Notice: The Pokemon games, regions, characters, creatures, etc etc are all properly owned by their respective owners. This fiction is written entirely for personal entertainment purposes.
What?...
Excuse me?...
Oh, sorry. Hello there...before we formally meet, would you be willing to tell me...are you a boy or a girl?
...Aha! I knew it! I can see by the expression on your face that you've been subjected to the idiotic queries of the Old Man as well! I see he's still up and about, rot his senile mind. Eh, what's that? Why am I insulting the Old Man?
...Oh no. You approached me, and now you're hooked. You can't get away that easily now. The name's Maxwell. Maxwell Joshua Black, Max to no one and Josh to even less...you can call me Maxwell for now. As for the Old Man, well, he's a short story in a long, ongoing tale, and one I doubt i shall ever...*shudder* forget.
Oh don't get me wrong, in my own spiteful way I respect the Old Man, have no doubt. I just have a little...beef, if you will, with his continual presence and influence over this little region of ours. To make matters short, I aim to replace him eventually.
And his blasted Pokedex.
... Arrogance? Oh, yes, and likely foolish arrogance at that. The Old Man didn't get to be where he is now without being once clever, daring, and very, very good at garnering power, and I don't have anywhere near the experience, resources, or even will myself I'm sure to take him on and succeed. But I'll be damned if I won't try.
Why am I here, then? Well...that's the ongoing tale now really, isn't it? It's been long, dangerous, and thoroughly unpleasant. Blasted Pokemon, blasted Team Rocket, blasted Red...
Interested? Then sit down, and get comfortable...it's a long way to go. And get me a drink while you're at it, my throat's going to be parched by the time I get halfway through Vermilion.
Anyways, it all started when at the glorious age of ten years old, one Maxwell Joshua Black did something else instead of his Pokemon journey...
