Hello everyone.
Welcome to Unknown Shores. My brand new pokemon fanfic featuring an OC in the word of pocket monsters that we all know and love. I hope you will enjoy it.
I do not own Pokemon in any of its forms, nor do I own the picture that you see as the profile of this story.
It started as most things do, with an idea.
It wasn't even a dumb or stupid idea, really. Just a silly one. Something people do everyday just to distract themselves, to escape reality if only for a bit. Who would've known better?
Certainly not me.
Have you ever heard of the concept of jumpchains? It's those "build your own adventure" quizzes about you 'theoretically' ending up in another universe where you roll a dice to decide some things and begin with a certain amount of points to spend on character creation, so to say, in order to make you sure you don't end up basically naked where you're going.
People have become quite adept at creating jumpchains for whichever universe they like. Be it fantasy novels, sci-fi movies, video games, mangas... the list goes on. Some of them are so simple you'll finish them in five minutes, and others are so complex you'll spend hours carefully picking your choice out of dozens of options and possible scenarios.
If you don't already see where this is going, well allow me to make it clear for you. It can happen. You never know when a ROB, or Random Omniscient Being as we call them, is gonna take a look in our dimension and just decide to yeet some poor bastard into another universe just for fun. Jumpchains are opportunities for them, as my... benefactor once told me.
I don't know if you, who are reading this, are a fellow Jumper or someone who simply happened to find those old entries laying around. Most people would consider this the ramblings of a lunatic who was so high on drugs she couldn't tell her hallucinations from reality.
But if you believe, somewhere inside you, that what I'm telling is real, or if you're simply interested in getting some entertainment out of this... then grab a drink, set a nice playlist of your favorite music tracks, sit back and relax.
Because you're in for a pretty long ride.
That day, she'd gone to sleep late.
Aileen remembers she'd been debating during the evening with some online friends about this and that, she doesn't exactly remember what about. What she knows for sure is that it was about Pokemon and that suddenly this one guy had interrupted everyone by posting a link to their latest jumpchain.
Everyone else had ignored them, of course, but Aileen had gotten somewhat curious and, between replies, decided to give it a try. Two hours later she had trouble keeping her eyes open as she finally spent what few points she had left on a couple of options that sounded like they'd make her character's life easier.
In hindsight, those had saved her life so many times down the line it's not even funny.
She'd been about to call it a night when she'd seen a button at the end of the page to "Send in your results!". She'd thought it was to see what others people had chosen but, once she'd clicked, nothing had happened. With a shrug, she had closed the browser and turned off her computer before going to bed, thinking nothing of it.
And if her vision had glitched for a moment, well Aileen simply assumed the lack of sleep and staying confined to her tiny apartment all day for weeks while working from home had been getting to her.
Little had she known, it would be a... very long time before she'd ever sleep in that bed again.
Aileen doesn't know what wakes her first, the light of the sun on her face, or the feeling of something sitting on her back as it pokes her shoulder repeatedly.
"Uuugh... Go away, Gospel. I'll feed you later." Aileen mumbles, moving an arm to shove her cat away and the weight disappears with a sound of... flapping?
Obviously she's still too out of it if she's imagining her cat making flapping sounds. With a grunt, she burrows her head deeper into the pillow.
Which feels as hard as a rock... and dusty...
Aileen startles, fully awake this time, and raises her head, blinking.
Rocks. Rocks and desert plains as far as the eye could see. "What the fuck?"
Bewildered, Aileen slowly sits up, brushing her long dark hair out of her face as she does so, and distantly noting she's fully clothed instead of wearing her sleepwear. She looks around, trying to make sense of where she is, amber eyes scanning the horizon. More rocks, more dust, and more plains. Although he can see mountains far in the distance. She pinches herself to make sure she's not dreaming but nothing happens aside from making the spot throb with pain.
Another flap of wings makes her head turn as a shadow passes over the sun above.
"Was that a freaking vulture?!"
"Breathe... Deep breaths... You're not dead yet, big girl." Aileen whispers to herself as she feels panic setting in, inhaling and exhaling deeply in an effort to stay calm. "Whatever happened, you're still alive and kicking. Don't focus on unimportant things. Survival comes first, as Mom often says."
Slapping her cheeks, the young woman rises to her feet and takes stock of her condition. Physically everything seems fine, though she's still reeling mentally. Neither her clothes nor shoes are the best for, well, trekking in a foreign wasteland, but it's better than nothing.
As for supplies though... well she's out of luck.
"To be without even a bottle of water under this sun..." Aileen grimly muses as she squints at the shining orb sitting high above her and swallows. "Also I have no idea where I am. What kind of bullshit is this?!" She hisses.
With another deep breath, Aileen takes off her jacket and puts it around her head as a makeshift protection against the sun's rays before starting to walk toward the highest rock she can see. Hopefully, a vantage point would be enough for her to spot some signs of civilization.
About an hour later, by her estimate, and sitting on top of a five-ish meters tall rock, Aileen can only sigh in frustration.
"I'm not even seeing any roads nearby. What kind of no man's land was I dropped into?"
Should she just head up north? The sun had moved a bit so she could roughly guess in which direction that is, and she couldn't exactly stay here in hopes someone would come by.
"And then there's this guy." Aileen mutters, her eyes narrowing as a shadow passes over the sun again. The damn vulture is nothing if not patient and likes to constantly remind her of its presence. She'd seen its silhouette at some point and, although she hadn't recognized the shape, the bird had seemed relatively small for a desert scavenger.
"Guess I better move again before it gets too bold." Aileen reasons as she stands up from her perch. "Wouldn't want it to get any ideas."
Then, just as she's about to start her climb down, a glint of reflected sunlight to the northwest catches her eyes and she freezes. Slowly turning, she squints hard. "Could it simply have been a mirage? The air's swelling with heat, so it is possible. Wait, no! There it is again!"
No mistake this time. She cannot see from there what the light is reflecting off, but she reckons it's a better choice than to just go in a random direction.
Decision made, Aileen climbs down from her vantage point and sets off in the direction of whatever is causing this reflection.
It's almost three hours of steady walking later that she comes upon what causes that glint.
"A... phone?" Aileen muses as she approaches the object and crouches down to pick up the device and dust it off. "Wait, no. That thing looks like..."
It's a Pokenav. An honest to God Pokenav.
"You're kidding me."
Although the screen's cracked, it looks genuine. Too much detailed to be a simple toy. Perhaps a phone modeled after it? With trepidation, she presses the central button.
When nothing happens, she doesn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
"This thing's battery probably fried after being exposed to the sun for who knows how long." She thinks as she tries to hit a couple switches before flipping the device close when it's clear nothing would happen. With a sigh, the young woman pockets it. "How did it even get here, though?"
Someone must've dropped or chucked it here. And unless it'd literally fallen out of the sky, that meant there should be-
With newfound hope giving her a second wind, Aileen starts searching around. And eventually finds what she's looking for: tire tracks.
Half faded though they are, they're still clear enough that she can see and follow them. The question now becomes, which way to go?
She frowns."One way goes toward the mountains, the other deeper into the wasteland. It's a coin toss."
The human body can survive about three days without water, but that's in normal conditions. And, assuming she cannot find her way to civilization by the end of the day, she still has to find shelter. It's common knowledge that nights in the desert are especially cold.
"There's no way I can reach the feet of the mountains by the time the sun sets but at least I know I'll find shelter, maybe even food and water once I do. Going further into the wasteland is a risk versus reward gamble that I'm not sure I want to take." A shadow passes over her. "And that critter's still here."
With a soft sigh and a nod to herself, Aileen stands up from her crouch and sets off again, following the tracks toward the mountains.
By nightfall, it's clear to her that, although she's made good progress, it's going to take her at least another day before she can reach the foot of the mountain range.
Fortunately for her, she'd spotted a rocky outcrop earlier in the day and, after moving a few rocks around, had managed to create a relatively comfortable space that, together with her jacket, should provide enough protection from the worst of the cold.
"Here's hoping that tomorrow will be a better day."
Tired, hungry and thirsty after a day of nothing but walking, sleep takes Aileen almost immediately.
When she wakes up again, her first thought is among the lines of "So, that wasn't just a very vivid dream".
Except maybe less polite.
It's not the first time she's gone a whole day without eating but those days were spent either in her bed or sitting in a chair, not trekking through kilometers of wasteland under the sun. The pangs of hunger she can somewhat ignore ("And besides," her mother's voice reminds her, "a bit of fasting never hurt anyone.") but awakening parched and half choking on dust? Not a good feeling.
Aileen remembers, when trekking in the Morocco mountains a few years back, just how much she and the others had been eating and drinking every day. The heat and physical effort had just burned their energy and they'd dehydrated faster than you'd think.
"At least my stalker seems to have left for easier prey." The young woman muses. She had not seen even a hint of a winged shadow since she'd started walking along the tracks again. But for all she knows the scavenger is simply hanging back and watching from afar, waiting for its time.
As the sun moves and she continues to trek through the wasteland, she can't help but wonder how bad she's going to freak out afterward if she survives this. "Ain't that a morbid thought."
She can feel her endurance waning, hour after hour. The time between rests has shortened and she's slowed down from yesterday's pace. Then again, she'd always been more of a sprinter than a long-distance runner. The mountains are closer now, but Aileen doubts she'll reach the foot of the closest one any time soon.
It's as she's sitting in the shade of a tall rock that she hears it. First faintly, so faint that she wonders if the heat finally got to her head. Then, slowly but surely, it gets louder. Until there is no mistaking it.
An engine.
Quickly, Aileen gets up and steps out from her resting place, scanning her surroundings with squinted eyes. It takes her only a few seconds to spot the trail of dust from the vehicle that seems to be headed somewhat in her direction.
"This is gonna suck but good thing I inherited dad's vocal cords." With that thought, Aileen coughs a couple times to clear her throat and takes a deep breath.
"HEEEEY! OVER HERE!" She shouts as loud as she can, waving her arms up and down. "HEEEEEEEEEY-*cough* *cough* ah shit, knew it." Aileen grimaces, massaging her throat with one hand while continuing to wave with the other.
Fortunately, it's clear that the driver heard - or at least saw- her as the vehicle, which Aileen recognizes as an ATV, heads directly for her now.
"Ho there, lass! Ya seem to be in a bit o' a rough spot." The driver, a man in his sixties if judging only by his beard and voice, calls out with a thick accent as he slows down to a stop. Now that he's closer, Aileen can see that he's clad from head to toe in biker gear. "What happened to ya? Them snagem ruffians cleaned ya out and left ya out 'ere to die?"
"Snagem?" The word sounds familiar to her, but Aileen's tired mind can't place it. "You could say I was robbed, yeah." She replies. "Robbed from my home that is." "Could I trouble you for a lift to the nearest settlement, sir?"
"'S no bother, lass!" The man laughs. "Besides, it'd be a damn shame if I'd leave ya to dry out there, after looking for ya all day!"
Aileen blinks. "You were looking for me, sir?" She asks, somewhat warily.
"Sure was! My pardner signaled there was someone lost out there, so o' course I went lookin'." The man replies. "Lucky he spotted ya, though. He doesn' usually go so far into the desert these days."
"Spotted me?" Aileen repeats, confused. "But I didn't see anyone else out here?"
"O' course ya wouldn't have!" The man chortles before raising his fingers to his lips and letting out a sharp whistle. "Come n' say hello, boy!" He shouts to the skies.
"Krow!"
A shadow passes above Aileen before dropping down onto the man's shoulder, talons gently gripping the old leather, and the young woman feels her mind blanking out.
A big crooked yellow beak. Raven-black feathers, sharp red eyes. And, perhaps most damning of all, that crest that resembles a witch's hat.
A Murkrow. A living, breathing Murkrow.
It's at that moment that everything suddenly clicks together.
"That desert wasteland, the Pokenav, Snagem. The freakin' pokemon."
Aileen sways on her feet.
"I'm in fucking Orre."
A hand clamping on her shoulder snaps her back to reality and her gaze focuses back on Murkrow's trainer ("God, it's weird to even think that"). "Ya o'right there, lass? Ya look like ye're about to faint any second."
Aileen blinks a few times before shaking her head. "Freak out later, survival still takes priority." "Sorry, sir. The heat must be getting to me."
"I hear ya." The man says, turning back to his vehicle before fishing out a bottle of water from one of the bags strapped to it. "Here." He presents it to the young woman, who takes it with a grateful thank you.
The bottle is cool against Aileen's skin and she thinks water has never tasted so good. She is careful to not drink too fast but, by the time she feels her thirst is quenched, the bottle is half-empty.
"Krow?"
The Murkrow, still perched on its -his, Aileen reminds herself, this is no simple animal- trainer's shoulder, tilts his head at her as if expecting something.
"Thank you too, little guy." She says with a smile, bringing one hand to cautiously scratch the flying-type. "I owe you one."
"Mur!" The pokemon preens, his chest puffed out, obviously enjoying the praise and attention.
"'S not often I see people thanking my pardner, lass." The biker comments.
Aileen snorts. "Murkrows may have a bad rep but I prefer to judge actions rather than words." She watches with a soft smile as the bird leans into her scratches and even nuzzles his beak into her hand. "You said you were willing to give me a lift, sir? I don't know about you, but I'm keen to get out of this wasteland."
"Hah!" The man barks, laughing. "Ya have a good head on yer shoulders, lass! That's more than most fools who come to this Arceus forsaken region can say! I can take ya to Phenac City no problem. Think ya'll be o'right there?"
Aileen's smile shifts into a frown. With no pokemon ("Pokemon!" her brain screeches), no money, not even any ID, she'd probably have to beg on the streets just to survive. Never mind getting out of Orre.
"By yer face, I guess that might be complicated?" Murkrow's trainer asks.
"Complicated is an understatement, sir." She snorts. "I have nothing but the clothes on my back and a broken Pokenav on me. And even if it worked, I don't have anyone that I could call for help. I could try and get a job, but without any kind of ID that's going to be difficult." "Not to mention what kind of propositions I might receive if I look desperate enough." She finishes internally with a grimace.
The man hums contemplatively for a moment. "Tell ya what, lass? How 'bout ya come with me, fix that pokenav of yers, get a proper meal, and sleep on it? Then we'll see what yer options are."
"That... sounds like a fantastic idea, to be honest, but are you sure?" Aileen asks.
"I wouldn't be offerin' if I wasn't!" The man laughs, climbing back onto his ATV as Murkrow takes off from his shoulder and into the sky. "Climb on, lass. We got a few hours of travel in front of us. And enough of that 'sir' nonsense. The name's Pompeo Malcom, but mah friends call me Pom."
"Then thank you, Pom." She smiles. "My name's Aileen Hawke. Please call me Aileen."
"Hmm... I think I'll stick to lass." Pompeo comments as the young woman climbs behind him, getting a laugh out of her.
And with a roar of the ATV's engine, they're gone, Murkrow's shadow following them as they speed through the wasteland.
The sun is basking everything in orange light by the time they arrive at their destination, a home trailer that looked old and battered by the winds and dust of the desert.
"'S not much, but it's home." Pom says as he opens the door, Murkrow jumping off his shoulder onto the back of the couch. "Sit down, lass. I'll get us some food."
"Oh don't worry, I've lived in worse." Aileen replies as she takes a seat in one of the two chairs around a small table.
The trailer feels homey and well cared for, despite some of its equipment showing signs of wear after years, if not decades, of use. Three couches surrounding a larger table with a small TV make the living room, joining with the kitchen and its many cupboards. There are a couple of doors to the right side, leading to what Aileen can guess are the bathroom and bedroom of the trailer.
Sure, it's a smaller space than any apartment she's ever lived in, but it's a far cry from some of the lodgings the young woman had stayed in when she first started working in other countries.
A plate of dried fruits being put on the table turns her attention back to Pom as the man, now out of his biker gear and in a simple white shirt, sits down. He's a lot more stocky than she first assumed, with wild grey hair complementing his beard, but there is a spryness to him that she's seldom used to see in men of Pom's age and those sharp brown eyes speak of experience and wisdom.
"Why don't ya dig in while I take a look at that Pokenav ya got? See what the damage's like?" He says.
"Don't mind if I do." Aileen says as she picks a dried date and pops it into her mouth, the sweet taste making the young woman close her eyes in delight for a moment. Taking out the Pokenav from her pocket, she passes the broken device to Pom, who looks at it with critical eyes.
"No outer damage." He notes, opening it. "Screen's cracked but not busted."
"I figure the battery probably fried in the sun." She chimes in, munching on a handful of raisins and throwing one at Murkrow, who happily snaps it out of the air.
Pom shakes his head. "Nah, lass. These things are built to survive pretty much any environmental hazard ya can throw at 'em short of being crushed under rocks ." He says as he grabs a small screwdriver and starts to work on opening the back panel. "And the battery doesn' deplete so easy. Even with daily usage, ya can count on havin' to recharge it once, maybe twice a month."
Aileen looks at the phone-like device in awe, an apricot halfway to her mouth. She vaguely remembers the Pokenav short-circuiting when splashed with water during one of the anime episodes but then again it had seemed weird for a device made for traveling to not be waterproof
She suddenly notices her hand is empty and gives Murkrow, who is looking way too pleased with himself as he swallows his stolen apricot, a flat look.
"Whoever threw it away must be a total idiot though." Pom muses as he finally opens the panel. "Even busted those things sell for several grands at least, if only 'cause the spare parts are top-notch."
Aileen chokes on a fig at that, thumping her torso to make the fruit go down. "Seriously?!" She exclaims. "I mean, I get that they're a pretty impressive piece of tech, but..." She trails off, looking incredulously between Pom and the Pokenav.
The man chuckles grimly. "I dunno where ya come from, lass, but lemme put it this way: people would kill, have killed, to get one of those. Ya gotta be careful when havin' that thing on ya." He says as he starts fiddling with the wires while Aileen grimaces at the device. "Hmm, looks like one o' the circuits got damaged. Probably an electric move o' some kind. Even with all the protections on that thing, 's still made of electronics."
"Do you think you can fix it then?" She asks, leaning slightly forward with Murkrow doing the same beside her.
"'Course I can." Pom replies, standing up to open one of the cupboards and taking out a welding kit. "When ya live in the deserts of Orre, ya gotta know how to fix yer shit if it breaks down or else yer ass is toast."
"That does seem like a necessary precaution." Aileen agrees with a sigh, leaning back with Murkrow once again copying her movements. Giving the bird another flat look, she gently flicks the dark-flying type's beak, causing Murkrow to let out a squawk and jump back. "If only money-wise."
"Hah! No kiddin'!" Pom barks, laughing. "Resources are tight in this part o' the world, lad. That means some people will charge ya an arm n' a leg for what would be nothin' in, say, Kanto." He shakes his head slowly, his smile turning into a frown. "It was different, back in the days when Phenac City was first built. Trade was flourishin', there was talk of expendin' into the desert, that's how Pyrite Town came about, and even buildin' proper gyms for a League. People were... hopeful. Optimistic, for Orre." He pauses as Murkrow hops to him and rubs his head against his trainer's, earning him a couple of scratches.
"Then Cipher came in and it was basically over. Corruption rooted itself in no time, people who refused deals were met with violence, and those who tried to fight back lost their pokemon, belongings, and sometimes even their lives." Pom sighs. "They didn' even bother to be subtle. Bled the country almost dry and then left the pieces of what was left to gangs an' bandits."
Aileen stays silent, a sympathetic expression on her face as she watches the aged man. "Pom must have seen it happen from the start." She thinks. "Maybe even got involved. I don't know where the events of Colosseum and Gale of Darkness fit in the world's timeline, but it was obvious that, even after Wes crushed Cipher and Snagem, the region wasn't able to get back on its feet. Things... simply became a better status quo."
Pom examines his repairs and, with a satisfied nod, starts screwing the panel back on. "Which brings me to my next question." He says, his eyes looking at Aileen seriously. "What are ya doing in this place, lass? Only people who come to Orre nowadays are those who have nothin' to lose... or who're runnin' away from the law. And ya look like neither."
The young woman rakes a hand through her hair with a sigh as a bone-deep tiredness sets into her. Her long locks feel dry and dirty after two days in the desert and she longs for something to tie them back into a ponytail.
"As you've probably guessed by now, Pom, I didn't come to Orre by design." She begins. "Someone -or something, I don't know- took me from my home and left me in the desert with no way to fend for myself. I've avoided thinking about this too much, for now, but I know that sooner or later I'm going to freak out because I'm in what is arguably one of the worst regions in the world and no way to go back home." She closes her eyes. "Right now, the only thing I can -must- focus on, is survival. Anything else can come later."
Pom hums thoughtfully as he finishes screwing back the panel and flips the Pokenav before pressing the central button and the device flips itself open, the screen lighting. "Like I said before, ya've got a good head on yer shoulders, lass." He slides the Pokenav to Aileen. "Ya just gotta be careful that Orre doesn't break it. An' it's very good at doin' that." He finishes, with a glance to his left.
With that said, Pom stands up. "I'll get started on dinner. Why don't ya try and see if everythin' works as it's supposed to in that thing?"
Aileen watches him move around the kitchen of the trailer for a moment before Murkrow pokes her in the shoulder. Turning to the pokemon, Aiden raises an eyebrow before the bird gestures at the wall with his beak and her eyes follow the movement.
A frame sits on the wall and Aileen has to raise her head a bit to look at it without light reflecting into her eyes. It's a picture of two people who seem to be in their thirties, and he easily recognizes Pom's hair and the beginning of the man's current beard, but it's the second figure that catches her attention.
It's a woman with rich auburn hair wearing a sundress and a large hat to protect herself from the sun. Two blue eyes peer at the camera above sunglasses and her mouth is quirked in a small smile as she leans against Pom, in his full biker gear minus the helmet, his arm around her waist.
They look happy.
"Krow..." Murkrow crows quietly with a sad expression, looking between the picture and his trainer. Aileen gives the flying-type a sad smile, scratching his head comfortingly. She can guess what happened, seeing as Pom lives alone in the trailer.
Picking the Pokenav with her other hand, she gazes for a moment at her reflection in the cracked screen, the sharp features she inherited from her mother paired with the amber eyes of her father and her paternal grandmother's nose.
She presses the button and the screen lights up again, greeting her with a 'Thank you for purchasing this Devon Corporation Pokenav! Please enter your personal information.'
"Welcome to the world of Pokemon." Aileen whispers to herself.
So.
First of all, allow me to apologize for my almost two years-long absence. I've been dealing with a lot of IRL stuff during 2020 (I'm sure I'm not the only one) and have only recently found the time and inspiration to properly sit down and write again.
I hope those of you've come here from " "Effect of a Titanfall" found the update of to be worth the wait. Hopefully the next one won't take nearly as long to come out.
For those of you who are wondering about my other stories... well.
"Wheel of Fate" is definitely abandoned until such a time that I can get over the writer block I have with it.
"Child of the Fell and Divine Dragons" is on hiatus pending its rewrite, and I honestly don't know when that's gonna be complete.
As for "HP and the Four Elemental Spirits", I have been working on it but writer block is kicking my ass there again, somehow. But I hope to have the next chapter ready soon.
As always, do leave a review if you'd like. I welcome constructive criticism but baseless flames will be ignored. And again, sorry for the wait.
This is MidnightFenrir, signing out.