Local Teenagers of WA: USA present:
A Reserve 38 creation
A very special Christmas gift to your follow author, Denmawarlight
'Tis the Season
Christmas is a very special time of year. A time filled with love, family, and holiday cheer. Gifts are given, and gifts are received, and so is love. The falling of Yuletide carols fill the air, as down the soft embrace of the snowy weather. The white crystals entertain millions of children, as well as Pokémon; the snowball fights, the new versions of games and new places to hide and seek, the loving feeling that snow shares with all. A very magical time indeed.
However, not all Christmases are cold. In a large area of eastern Unova lies a large patch of land untouched by nearly all forms of weather, whether it be rain, wind, thunder and lightning, or, yes, even snow. Weather here does not exist, as people say, for the sky in this stretch of land, the Sun Fields, is constantly warm and cheery. Daytime is comfortably warm, nighttime is just the right amount of cool. Twenty-four seven, nearly three sixty-five. The occasionally rain slips in, but that is all the warm fields will allow.
The Sun Fields is a very pleasant area, home to various species of Pokémon. The land is covered in tall green grass that reaches the knees of humans, and trees, wide, thick, and tall, litter the area in widespread patches. Lakes of all sizes dot the area, all only three day's walk apart, and are filled with sparkling water so clean and clear one can see the bottom of even the deepest lake, not that they are all very deep to begin with. The grass gradually turns to a healthier, darker green around the water's edge, and a flurry of berry bushes thrive nearby as well. Hills and cliffs also range throughout the Sun Fields, some simple and round, others tall and rocky. They provide shade in the afternoons, as well as a natural upset in the geography's layout, adding to the beauty.
And along the rocky wall of one of these tall hills lays a well-traveled dirt path. And on this path walks a boy, seeming to be around the age of seventeen. He strides along the dirt path with a confident smile on his pale face, partly blocked but the overly high collar of his red and white jacket. As the boy walks, a gust of warm wind hits his back, sending the spiky mass of his blue hair forward into his eyes. He brushes is back with a flick of his hand, which is clothed in a brown, fingerless glove, as is his other. His brown-red eyes scan the path before him as he sticks his gloved hands into the pockets of his blue pants. His small pack strapped around his waist bounces slightly against his left hip. His red shoes knock pebbles into the air as he walks.
The boy's smile fades to a small smirk as the warm air seeps into his jacket. He reaches up to his collar and brings the zipper down, opening the jacket and exposing his faded red shirt. "Pfft, no snow, no rain . . . Yeah, Merry Christmas . . . " He looks down at his feet and his gaze follows a gust of wind. " . . . Dust in the wind . . . " The boy looks up at the sky. Not a cloud to be seen.
The sun continues to beat down on the land, sparking a fun time of play for the local Pokémon. Bug-types hide and seek, while the reptiles and Grass-types sit and lay out on any rocks around, soaking up the sun. The passing boy smiles as an Oddish retreats underground, leaving its bushel of leaves to the sun.
As the day progresses, so does the boy's journey. The heat has gotten to the teen, forcing him to strip off his jacket and tie it around his waist. Still following the path around the large rock wall next to him, the boy looks ahead, seeing a large cluster of bushes next to a lone tree. The tree has no low branches and is wide topped. " . . . A little break can't hurt," he says to himself.
The boy speeds up in order to get to the bushes quicker, but regrets the decision. The extra force he has exerted has given his body and extra boost of heat. However, the teen is still happy about his choice. He reaches the bushes, and sees that the rocky cliff comes to a stop and curves around in a ladle formation. This ladle holds a grassy shore and a lake, topped off with a splashing waterfall. The waterfall is silent, letting little noise escape from the lake's surface. The water in the small lake is a very clear blue.
"Perfect." The boy unhooks his pack from his waits and walks to the edge of the water. He lays the pack on the grass beside a bush. The bushes give the lake a bit of a secluded privacy, which makes the boy smile. He sits by the water's edge and tosses off his shoes. He is not wearing any socks, and immediately sticks his feet in the cool water. "Ah . . . my puppies are burning . . ." He pulls his feet from the water and pulls off his shirt. He lets out a sigh of relief as the cool air off the water's surface hits his bare chest.
The boy could not help but look down at his reflection. He showed no muscle growth whatsoever, seeming like just a frame of a human. He was indeed strong, however. Smiling, he tosses his shirt next to his pack and proceeds to remove his pants, but pauses for a moment. " . . . Might as well." The boy bends over and unzips his pack, grabbing the three pokéballs that slept within. He tosses them up into the air, watching them pop open and his Pokémon form in front of him.
A strong-headed Gigalith, a graceful Staraptor, and his faithful partner Dewott all stand before him. The boy smiles. "Alright everyone, this is break time. Go have fun, go relax, go chat with the other Pokémon. I'll be right here relaxing, alright? His Pokémon nod to him, then depart. Staraptor flies off to the north, Dewott takes off to find another patch of water, and Gigalith slowly makes its way into the tall grass. After a while, it sits and brings its legs close together, proceeding to nap in the sun.
The boy closes his pack, then unhooks it and tosses it to his shirt, then begins to undo his pants. He even throws off his boxers and dives into the water. Moments later, he pops his head above the surface, his wet blue hair falling past his nose. The boy swims back and rests against the edge of the pool, stretching his arms out along the bank. "This is great. No one to disturb me, no annoying sounds of the city, just . . . nature." He closes his eyes behind his wet hair and relaxes.
After a period o time, the boy wipes his hair from his eyes. " . . . Hugh, you deserve this." Hugh stares at the waterfall across the lake, not even thirty feet from him. He looks over his shoulder at the tree. A small Pokémon, a Sentret, is climbing the tree, and stops momentarily to look at the boy. It jumps off and runs into the thick grass.
A splash grabs his attention. Hugh looks back at the waterfall, seeing nothing but water. He observes how graceful it seems to be, the majestic way the water dances as it falls. He lets his head rest against the shoreline and once again closes his eyes. " . . . Just a break . . . "
. . .
Life is a lonely creation. Solitude, eons of loneliness, all that time spent alone. The world is, what, millions of year old? Billions? Even though life is new, life, at the same time, is old. As one new life comes into being, another is extinguished. All life must fade.
Shaking his head at the thought, the Pokémon frowns. It has been quite some time since his encounter with his counterpart, a time that has left him to think about the lesson he learned that one fateful day; why must we fight? Do we fight for entertainment? For territory? For protection? All he knows is power, destruction, and violence . . . well, all he knew. As the years have passed, he has not engaged in combat since, and his knowledge has grown from being silent and watchful.
The Pokémon stands from his sitting position and walks backwards to the front of his cavern. The rounded walls and ceiling are made of brown stone, however, bushels of emerald jut from the floor near corners, giving the cave a greenish hue. A fire pit made of chunks of emerald sit in the middle of the cave, still warm with the ashes of the last fire. The cave is filled with the gentle sound of running water.
The Pokémon turns to the source of the noise; the waterfall the conceals his cavern. The water is falling at such a rate it seems like a slightly shimmering wall. The Pokémon stares at himself through the wall of water. His violet tail swings behind him as he does. His pale purple skin seems tight and sickly in the green light of the cave. With a large three-fingered hand he reaches up and touches on of the two dull horns on his head, then slides it around to grab the loop of flesh connecting from his head to his back.
His own words, the ones he believed ever so all those years ago, echo inside his head. Behold my power! I am the strongest Pokémon in the world! The Pokémon shakes his head. Pokémon and humans can never be friends. Again, the Pokémon staggers and shakes his head. It is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are. The Pokémon's expression softens. And so . . . who am I?
. . . I am Mewtwo.
Mewtwo stares at his reflection in the wall of translucent water before him. He squints to look past his reflection. " . . . A human?" Mewtwo leans forward to better observe the sight before him, when suddenly his footing slips and he falls forward into the path of the waterfall.
Before he could hit the main pool below, Mewtwo teleports to the top of the waterfall. He shakes his head to rid himself of any water droplets, and envious thoughts of his counterpart's invisibility come to his mind. Down below, the human looks around, obviously hearing the splash. He shrugs and relaxes again.
Mewtwo lowers himself onto the rock and sandwiches himself between the flowing water beside him and an Oran berry bush, staring down at the human. He notices how the bends and curves of his face fit so well with his shoulders, how well toned the boy is. This human, Mewtwo thinks, is so . . . very like that one from before. I can feel it in his spirit. Mewtwo sees the boy stretch, and hears his joints softly pop. "Ah . . . Hugh, you need to do this more often."
Hugh . . . that's his name. Mewtwo grabs a berry from the bush and pops it into his mouth, then rests his chin on his crossed arms, chewing silently. His eyes lazily scan Hugh's form, taking in every feature. The soft jut of his chin, his prominent collarbones, the length of his wiry hair, the smoothness of his skin. A perfect specimen, Mewtwo says to himself. He scoots forward a bit on the rock to get a slightly better view. The water is crisp and clear, only rippled slightly by the waterfall's interruption.
Hugh brings his hands together in front of him. "Maybe I should build a nice place out here. Yeah . . . just me and my Pokémon . . . " He shakes his head. "Nah, I got a place of my own already." He rises a bit to look over his shoulders.
Mewtwo takes advantage of his distracted nature and teleports to the nearby tree. He grabs a nearby branch of the wide-topped tree and brings it close to cover himself. He waits . . . and waits . . . and waits.
Mewtwo brings his face up and looks down at the pool, at Hugh. His eyes widen a bit at what he sees. Hugh is lying in the pool, the water hitting his chin, his mouth slightly open. His arms are moving slightly, and through the clear water, Mewtwo can see him stroking himself. Mewtwo finds himself mesmerized at the site, staring at Hugh's member. He is big.
A small noise escapes from Hugh's mouth, and with that Mewtwo turns onto his back. The branch creaks slightly as he does, but holds. He's pleasuring himself, Mewtwo thinks to himself. The sight, even though its just a few yards away, materializes in his mind. As Mewtwo imagines his little sight, he looks back to the real deal. A spark of heat ignites in Mewtwo's stomach, followed by a yearning. What is this?
Mewtwo looks down at his stomach, then lays his head down on the branch. Looking up, all he sees are leaves and speck of sky. The burning in his gut grows. Shaking his head, Mewtwo closes his eyes. Maybe I'm just tired. He opens them again and stares back at Hugh, who is still busy. Maybe . . . Maybe I want him. Mewtwo closes his eyes, trying to educe a form of self-hypnosis. He succeeds and falls asleep where he lies.