Post by Hat on Jul 28, 2014 4:13:18 GMT -5
"F-Finally...."
A young man's shaky foot met solid ground, and the traffic leaving the boat was finally allowed to proceed. Hanging off to the side of the crowd, Samson breathed several sighs of relief. He had only been on a boat once in the past, when he was only 10 years old, and years of being landlocked didn't do him any favors in getting over his childhood seasickness. Sure, he was always near boats, but being on one for days was a different story. A very different, very horrible story. It would take more than that, however, to keep his excitement down.
He was here. Finally, the day had arrived when he would begin the adventure every kid dreams of: to travel an entire region with pokemon at their side. The conditions back home made it unfeasible for kids to go off adventuring at 10 years old like they used to, and the pokemon wildlife in general had retreated farther away from society, making it a trying task to make much progress as a trainer. The Caspian region was a golden opportunity for Samson to realize his dream - but of course, he had to start working towards it first.
His walk to the ranch had him repeating to himself over and over the details of his new start. It was a simple checklist - he had to introduce himself, state his trainer class, specialization, and then decide on a starter pokemon. The last part in particular made him anxious on every repetition, but in a good way. He hadn't ever really had his own pokemon to raise before, borrowing his parents' for use in practical assignments or practice at the Battle Tower... and they were all fighting types, to boot. At this point, he didn't really have a choice but to specialize; he had no idea how to raise anything else, and knew that it would be a step in the wrong direction to assume he could just figure it out on his first time in the field.
"...amson Maxwell, from Olivine... er, do they want city of birth, or city of residence? Maybe I'll just...mm.. specialist... fighting type..."
Before he realized it, his forward vision was obscured by a small cottage. As he looked up, he finally caught a view of the landscape he had promptly ignored until now - the sight nearly leaving him breathless.
Hundreds of pokemon of all types were scattered about the ranch, the variety of which could not possibly be seen in the wild, much less anywhere near the major cities back in Johto. He felt his anxiety drain away at the sight. If this was a sample of what awaited him on this journey, he wouldn't hesitate any longer.
Three firm knocks on the door. He methodically took a step back, placed his small backpack on the ground, and waited for his cue.
A young man's shaky foot met solid ground, and the traffic leaving the boat was finally allowed to proceed. Hanging off to the side of the crowd, Samson breathed several sighs of relief. He had only been on a boat once in the past, when he was only 10 years old, and years of being landlocked didn't do him any favors in getting over his childhood seasickness. Sure, he was always near boats, but being on one for days was a different story. A very different, very horrible story. It would take more than that, however, to keep his excitement down.
He was here. Finally, the day had arrived when he would begin the adventure every kid dreams of: to travel an entire region with pokemon at their side. The conditions back home made it unfeasible for kids to go off adventuring at 10 years old like they used to, and the pokemon wildlife in general had retreated farther away from society, making it a trying task to make much progress as a trainer. The Caspian region was a golden opportunity for Samson to realize his dream - but of course, he had to start working towards it first.
His walk to the ranch had him repeating to himself over and over the details of his new start. It was a simple checklist - he had to introduce himself, state his trainer class, specialization, and then decide on a starter pokemon. The last part in particular made him anxious on every repetition, but in a good way. He hadn't ever really had his own pokemon to raise before, borrowing his parents' for use in practical assignments or practice at the Battle Tower... and they were all fighting types, to boot. At this point, he didn't really have a choice but to specialize; he had no idea how to raise anything else, and knew that it would be a step in the wrong direction to assume he could just figure it out on his first time in the field.
"...amson Maxwell, from Olivine... er, do they want city of birth, or city of residence? Maybe I'll just...mm.. specialist... fighting type..."
Before he realized it, his forward vision was obscured by a small cottage. As he looked up, he finally caught a view of the landscape he had promptly ignored until now - the sight nearly leaving him breathless.
Hundreds of pokemon of all types were scattered about the ranch, the variety of which could not possibly be seen in the wild, much less anywhere near the major cities back in Johto. He felt his anxiety drain away at the sight. If this was a sample of what awaited him on this journey, he wouldn't hesitate any longer.
Three firm knocks on the door. He methodically took a step back, placed his small backpack on the ground, and waited for his cue.
If you become active again let me know on PBS