Example: Lost and Found

Author: EmBreon
Length: 25kish
Pokémon: Sneasel + Tentacool (Hard and Simple)
Grader: Jr

This isn't overkill on the example-ing, or anything. But it's, y'know, useful 'n whatnot. For probably one out of twenty-five people. Paha. AND HERE WE HAVE AGAIN A WONDERFUL STORY BY ANOTHER PRETTY PROLIFIC PE2K URPG AUTHOR... JUST FOR YOUR PERUSAL (and EmBreon is the fur to my favorite polar bear rug). Or something.

 

PG-13 for suggestive themes.​

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Somehow, he was walking down an empty road that would normally be full of traffic, had it been any other hour. He judged from the sightings of the local liquor store and gas station that he was about a half-mile from home. The crisp evening air was completely still; no wind blew through the small town to which he was so familiar with. It almost seemed unrealistic how quiet everything was, because if it hadn’t been for the sound of his own beating heart, he wouldn’t have heard anything at all.

It had been hours since the sun was last seen in the sky; the point in the night when everyone with normal sleeping habits would have long been asleep, as every home he passed during his journey had no sign or hint that a light was left on. Any other person would be unsettled by the fact that they were walking casually down the town’s busiest road at such a late hour, but he simply put off the idea that what he was doing was somewhat strange, and continued to head where instinct was telling him to go.

The remaining time that the young man spent traveling down the empty road took the good part of an hour. His hollow footsteps echoed into the dull night around him as he turned into the familiar driveway he recognized at once; a tidy driveway, of course. The very driveway owned by the Mayor of the city.

The home itself could easily be interpreted as one of great wealth. A ridiculous and over-sized water fountain was placed in the very center of the front yard. The glossy porcelain reflected the moonlight that shone through the clear night as the boy carefully walked passed. Water trickled from the arrow in the knock of a glass bow that the statue held pointed at the air, and in an arch similar to a running water fountain, the liquid streamed in to the clear pool of water below.

A stone pathway that led from the driveway to front door was hidden beneath the shadows of the darkness. He would most certainly have lost his footing if he hadn’t walked the same path so many times before. The moment he came to the front of the home, he reached blindly to the top of the door frame to retrieve a key he knew would be there, pushed it into the keyhole of the brass doorknob and quietly slipped inside.

This house, his house, was completely invisible to his eyes as they attempted to adjust to the light. But he did not wait for them, and instead traveled to the right and then to the left through darkness until he reached a door he could not see, pushed it open to a room he knew was there, and then collapse onto a bed he could only feel.

__________________​

The next morning came swiftly, something that would make sense due to the fact he had only just returned a few hours before dawn. Sometime during the night, a tiny clawed creature found its way onto his bed. Her navy blue fur and pointed ears made her appear somewhat cat-like, but the largely clawed hands and feet gave her half the appearance of a wolverine. A tiny ruby rested comfortably between her eyes, and the boy stroked his Sneasel softly as he sat up in his bed.

Something felt different about today. Not in the sense that he expected things to happen, but that he as a person felt different. He felt like he had never slept before, and that he would never need to, as though sleep were just a pastime to end boredom. His stomach did not protest to any lack of food, and strangely, he couldn’t remember what it felt like to be hungry, or even thirsty for that matter.

He shrugged off his thoughts, deciding he was just coming down with some kind of virus, and left his room. His nocturnal Pokémon awoke groggily at the sudden movement and quietly followed behind his heels. The two quickly began to hear a pair of voices rise in volume the closer they approached the front room.

“And who’s fault is that, Tom?!” a woman’s voice stung through the near empty room. “I am not the one who extended his curfew to his every whim, and I also did not raise his allowance. What did you think he needed it for? It wasn’t cookies or candy, and part of me says that you knew exactly what it was for!”

“Do not go pinning this on me! He is just as much your son, as mine.” This tone was much deeper, though just as fierce as the higher pitched voice of the woman who had just spoken. The man sat in a leather chair with a newspaper hiding his face as he spoke to the woman beside him, though not giving her the courtesy to look away from the black and white print.

“Yes, he is our son, which means both of us have the duties of parenthood. I am finished being in charge of all the punishment while you constantly contradict me and allow him to do as he pleases.”

“So be it, Susan. I will speak to him when he gets home,” the man said as he turned the page in front of him.

“How can you be so calm about this?! Cyrus did not come home last night! A Thursday night! He could be anywhere right now. He could be passed out at another godforsaken party of his like last month and we would have a tiny clue about it!” The infuriated woman glared at her husband sitting so nonchalantly in his chair. He face was red with rage, but the man gave her little notice as he calmly continued reading.

“As I said,” came his reply, “I will speak to him when he gets home.”

“I think you need to stop putting your job before your family, Tom. Unless it is the only thing you are interested in keeping.” Her comment seemed to poke the man’s heart like a needle as he folded the paper and bowed his head the moment he wife angrily left the room.

Cyrus breathed heavily behind the hallway wall that hid him from view. His parents apparently did not know he had returned last night. What happened last night? Why couldn’t he remember? He wanted to burst into the room and say he was there, but something held him in his place.

Instead, he sneaked back to his room to change his clothes and fetch his bag before quietly sneaking out the back door and heading to school, the clawed weasel following behind him as she always did.

__________________​

It was only a few blocks’ walk before he was trudging up the concrete steps to his least favorite building on the planet. It was an ugly place to him, very bland, and the sole decoration in front of it was a tall rusty pole with an American flag beating through the wind at the top.

Pubescent teens bumped his shoulders as they passed him through the large double doors into the main hallway, where the mass of them seemed to grow in such a confined space. Cyrus had always pictured that public schools were places that the government used to herd kids like cattle.

He maneuvered his way through gaps in the crowded hallway, getting a strong whiff of body over as he went, until a young girl with ginger hair came into his view. She struggled for a bit to remove a heavy book from her overstuffed book bag, and finally succeeding, she stuffed it inside of the locker she stood in front of. Cyrus had always seen her as being one of those nerds that hid their habits from everyone else, because she was practically a straight A student, though her out of school actions begged to differ.

Her bright red hair was pulled back neatly into a ponytail, revealing a smooth face full of freckles. But, unlike most, she could pull it off very well, and anyone with normal eyesight would find beauty when they looked at her.

“Hey, Morgan,” Cyrus said to her once he reached her side. The young girl simply continued to pull things from her bag to her locker, not acknowledging his presence. “Listen….if this is about last night, I- I don’t really know what happened. I can’t remember anything, and I don’t know why.”

She slammed her locker shut, as the metal-on-metal noise echoed through the emptying hallway. And slinging her, still absurdly heavy, backpack over her shoulder, she nearly walked right through him to the sound of the final bell.

“Morgan!” he called after her, but a few moments later she turned the corner and he could not see her any longer.

Confused, he headed in the opposite direction to his first class, wondering what could have possibly happened.

A boring day it was, as all the others were. He skipped lunch when the time came because his stomach still refused to eat, and sat through each class hour while each teacher lectured a half sleeping class. The bell that he liked hearing finally rang, sending his mind back to consciousness, and jumping from his desk, he strode to the door in hopes of catching Morgan again before she left.

He found her on the large sidewalk outside of the school property deep in conversation with a group of girl. Her broad smile widened to reveal a set of oversized teeth as she giggled and something one of them had said. Their conversation reached his ears as he stepped to her side, though, none of them gave notice that he was there.

“You supplying the party tonight, Morgan?” an obnoxiously skinny blonde girl asked.

“No,” she replied, “Supposedly, Cyrus was going to again. He said he conned his dad into raising his allowance, but I haven’t heard from him today… Anyways, I need to get going. I’ll see you girls tonight then?” A few nods of agreement, and the group split up to go their separate ways.

Cyrus didn’t bother to follow her this time. Why is everyone ignoring me? What does she mean by saying she hasn’t heard from me? His thoughts disturbed him, and he found it increasingly difficult to push them off this time.

His mind wandered throughout the ten or so minute walk it took him to get home. His heart raced at this supposed ‘talk’ he was going to have with his father, and part of him wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction. Best to just get it over with…

His found his mother doing the dishes in the kitchen sink once he entered their home. He walked cautiously to her side, struggling for words as he stared at her face which was focused intensely on scrubbing grime from one of their plates.

“M-mom?” he croaked, but no sooner had the word left his lips did the phone ring from the front room.

His mother, seeming shocked by the sudden burst of noise, reflexively dropped the plate from her hands and scurried from the room. Her face, for some reason, looked fearful as she nearly ran to the phone. Cyrus followed behind her to see her hand shake as picked up the cordless phone and place it to her ear.

“Hello?” she squeaked. A silence filled the room, for a moment, as it was safe to assume that someone was speaking on the other end of the telephone line. “Yes, this is her.” Another silence…

More awkward moments passed, but something changed in the atmosphere of the call. His mother’s eyes widened and both of her hands shook and twitched as she raised the other trembling one to her mouth.

“Ar-are you sure?” her voice rasped, a sound that only came from someone trying to hold back tears. “Th-that can’t be him, it must be someone else. It’s someone else.” More rasping before her eyes glazed over and liquid began pouring down her cheeks. “Nooo! It’s someone else!” she sobbed, and dropping to her knees, the phone fell from her hand and landed face up on the floor. And just before the person on the other side of the line hung up, Cyrus heard them faintly say, “I’m sorry…”

His mother buried her face in her hands, sobbing more sickeningly than he had ever seen her cry before. Her shoulders shook as she screamed in sorrow, a sight that anyone would hate to see.

Only seconds passed before the front door swung open and his father trudged into the room. His face was red with shock, his eyes wide as they scanned the area in search of her.

“Susan…” he said, approaching her. He reached down to lift her up and pull her to his chest where she continued to cry.

“Oh Tom! He’s dead-he’s dead….our son is dead,” she heaved in sadness, hiccuping into his shirt.

Cyrus stared at them, he wasn’t dead, he was right here! Couldn’t they see him? Watery tears fell from his father’s eyes; the first time he had ever seen him show any emotion at all.

It was dream, some twisted dream, he decided. He didn’t know what to do… He’d just go outside and wait to wake up; he couldn’t stay in here. He ran to the front door, ripped it open and ran. He kept running and running long after his lungs cramped for air and a stitch in his side seared with pain from the muscle movement. The boy didn’t stop until long after it started to rain.

The water soaked through his clothes, suctioning them to his skin. The raid poured from the sky, pricking him like needles as he attempted to walk through the harsh wind. His body was exhausted, and he sighed slightly in relief when a park bench came into view.

The closer he got, the more of the figure sitting on it as well became visible. An elderly man in a black poncho and sunglasses sat calmly on the far side of it. Why on earth would someone want to sit out in the rain? he thought, as he placed himself next to the man, in effort to catch his breath.

“Strange day for walk, might you say, eh?” the man croaked, looking out into the street.

Cyrus lifted his head in surprise, and looked wide-eyed at the man next to him. “Y-you can see me?”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I can see all of you.”

“All of who?” the young man voiced, extremely disturbed.

“All of you,” he said as though it were quite obvious. “The ones who were left behind.”

“What are you talking about?” Cyrus asked. And for some reason, this conversation didn’t seem as odd to him as it should have been.

“You’re dead, boy. You don’t think it’s strange that you’re walking around like a person when no one can see you?” He gripped a hooked cane that he clutched in his left hand, twirling it around with some kind of boredom. “Actually, I take that back. Your Pokémon can see you, if you didn’t know that already.”

Cyrus looked to his pants’ pocket where he kept Sneasel’s Poké Ball. She could see him, couldn’t she?

“This is not what is meant to happen after death,” the old man spoke again through the soft pounding of the rain. “You just haven’t moved on yet.”

The teenager’s mind wandered at this revelation. Everything was happening so fast; he had no time to adjust. How did he even die in the first place?

“Why was I left behind?” The question finally emerged from his mouth.

“Well,” the dark coated man stood up at this point, limping slightly on his right leg before looking in the general direction of the boy who remained seated on the park bench. “That’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own, isn’t it?” And at that, he turned slowly, tapping his cane out in front of him, as any typical blind man would when they attempted to walk away.

 

He sat there in silence for several moments after; it could have been minutes, or hours, but he couldn’t tell because daylight was hidden by the storm. Only once his heart had calmed did he bother to stand up and head home.

Susan sat in front of the television once he entered the room. A box of tissues was clutched to her stomach as she sobbed into a fresh Kleenex at the sight of the movie.

Cyrus recognized this picture. He remembered watching it before; he remembered being there before. Slowly, he made his way to the front of the couch at which she sat at, and quietly took a seat beside her to watch the movie:

__________________​

“There you are, boy. Give it a tug!” the voice coming from the person holding the video camera.

A small child about the age of 7 or 8 gripped a shaking fishing pole that hung over the edge of an old dock. He bit his tongue and pulled with all his might as a squid-like creature emerged from the depths of the water to glare angrily at the cause of its removal from the water.

“YAY! I caught it! I caught!” the child screamed.

“Not yet,” the man behind the camera said, half amused. “Remember what I told you? You have to battle it first.”

“Oh right,” sighed the young form of Cyrus. “Okay, come on out, Sneasel!”

A red stream of light emerged from the orb that the child had tossed excitedly into the air. Only moments later, the very same Pokémon that rested inside the Poké Ball he had in his very pocket appeared on the screen. She stretched happily to be rid of the confinement, and after a quick scratch behind her only pink ear, she crouched on the wooden plank of the dock in preparation of a fight.

The blue squid in front of her glared angrily at its opponent. Its long, dark grey tentacles pulse angrily in the water, and waiting for no one’s command, they reached out swiftly and wrapped around the Dark weasel, squeezing its bones painfully. The Constrict attack did not relent for several moments, and nervously, the clawed creature wriggled to break free.

“Oh no! Um…um…use Slash, Sneasel!” the child yelled.

Wincing in pain, Sneasel managed to break an arm free from Tentacool’s grasp and send a sharp claw slicing through the thin membrane that wrapped around the squid’s tentacle.
The fish screamed as blood began oozing from the fresh wound in its skin, and a quick spasm was all it took for Cryrus’ Pokémon to break free of the Water type.

“Oooh, goody! Maybe Fury Swipes now?” the young boy ordered questioningly, but before his friend had time to position herself for the next attack, the Tentacool had conjured an enormous beam of bubbles that came rocketing from its mouth and striking Sneasel like painful and repetitive punches.

His Pokémon took blow after blow of the Bubblebeam attack, and only once the red sacks of ooze ceased glowing on the angry jellyfish did the attack end.

“Sneasel..?” he whispered softly, looking at his loyal creature that heaved for air and strength. “Do you think you could try an Icy Wind attck?”

The Dark Pokémon huffed with determination, and still crouching, it conjured a frigid wind that surrounded the Tentacool, and struck it with pellets of hard ice. When the wind had died down, Cyrus noticed something strange about the water surrounding their enemy.

“I froze it!” he gasped, as he saw the solid ice in about a foot radius around the supposed fish. Burning with rage, the squid attempted to slap Sneasel across the face with its only free tentacle, but having the chance to dodge this time, the weasel skillfully sent a large dagger of ice rocketing into the face of their opponent. And after this hit, the Tentacool’s head drooped tiredly, nearly knocked out.

“I think you should be able to catch it now, Cyrus,” came the deep voice of the man behind the camera.

“Okay!” He clapped and then dug through his pant pocket to retrieve a new Poké Ball.

The moment the jellyfish Pokémon was sucked inside of the sphere, the picture went fuzzy, and his mother used the remote to turn the television off.

__________________​

“You always were quite stubborn,” she said sadly to herself. Susan stood and left him sitting there. The moment she was out of sight, his pocket began to twitch slightly before letting out a popping noise followed by a ray of misty crimson light.

Sneasel appeared beside him, looking dreary-eyed up at him as he sat in home that had no idea he was there.

Some muffled voices and then angry footsteps came closer from the hallway that lead to his parents’ bedroom, and seconds later his father appeared carrying a large suitcase; his mother followed him sternly, arms folded tightly across her chest.

“I’ll send the papers in about a month or so,” Tom said as they entered the living room. “All you’ll have to do is sign them.”

“Fine,” she said. “Take his weasel as well.” She glanced at the creature sitting beside its master on the sofa.

“Come on, then,” the older man sighed. “Let’s get going.” He motioned for the creature to follow him out the door, but the Pokémon remained where it was, clinging to her trainer that they could not see. “Fine,” he grumbled. Then, reaching into the hidden pocket of his overcoat, he pulled out a familiar red and white orb that immediately burst with an expected beam of clear light.

A brown horned Bug Pokémon materialized before them. Someone would probably say that it most resembled a beetle, but a mutated one at that. The fierce creature stood on two legs, with a hard and round body that had nothing else apart from rows of sharp teeth and a pair of horns half the entire length of its body in size.

“Let’s make this quick, Pinsir. Use Swords Dance,” said his father.

Cyrus was barely beginning to understand what was going on. But he couldn’t battle his father, he couldn’t do that. The Pinsir turned white, and began rotating counter-clockwise faster and faster until it was just some blurry cyclone. He could only watch it, unsure if his father would actually go through with attacking his Pokémon.

His question was answered, however, when the bug lunged towards Sneasel and gripping its neck in an angry Vicegrip attack the moment the spinning Swords Dance had ended.

“Stop!” Cyrus yelled, though no one could hear him. “You’re hurting her!”

Angry, something forced him to retaliate. “Faint Attack, Sneasel!”

At the command, the Dark and Ice type disappeared from the grasp of the beetle, only to reappear moments later in front of it with a strong-willed tackle. Pinsir was knocked back into the wall, sending picture frames crashing to the floor and chipping the neat paint.

“Be careful, Tom! This isn’t a battlefield!” Susan yelled at him in fury.

“I don’t understand what is wrong with it,” Tom said in annoyance. “She’s acting as though she’s getting orders to attack… Use Brick Break, Pinsir.”

“Metal Claw,” Cyrus grunted, wondering what was going to come of his Sneasel even if they had won.

Both of the attacks seemed to hit, though each blocked each other to some extent, lightening the blow. Sneasel’s claw that had turned silver collided with a bright yellow explosion from the beetle’s fist, and they each sent each other falling to the floor.

“Again!” Tom ordered.

“Quick Attack,” said his son.

This time, Pinsir sent himself charging toward an opponent that was no longer there, and into the wall on the opposite side of the room while Sneasel sped behind it, and rammed into him to only further increase his momentum. The combined attacks sent Pinsir tearing through the drywall, and with a sudden screech, it burst all the way through to the other side. At least, its head did.

If it had been any other less serious occasion, someone might have laughed at the sight of a Pokémon’s head being stuck in a wall, but this was not one of those times. In fact, Cyrus saw this as a strategy and asked his Sneasel to use Fury Swipes on the immobilized creature.

It obeyed, an fiercely, the somewhat cat-like creature dug her claws deep into the flesh of the Pinsir, one slash after another after another as the beetle screamed in agony. Only when she put all of her energy into the final blow was it enough to send the remaining half of the trapped bug through the rest of the wall.

Annoyed, Tom finally stated, “I didn’t want to have to do this…just use X-scissor on it.”

Cyrus’ eyes widened half in sadness, as they saw their opponent dash towards her and rip into her with an extremely effective Bug attack. He couldn’t think of any counter, he couldn’t speak, something just forced him to watch as his faithful friend was sent flying into the floor and knocked unconscious.

Tom grunted with little emotion, and calmly dropped an empty Poké Ball onto the chest of the collapsed weasel. As she disappeared into a sphere that was not hers, as the ball began to rock back and forth, a serious of thoughts and memories, and even revelation flashed through his mind.

He was the reason his parents were getting a divorce, he had been the one that held them together all this time, as well as part of what tore them apart. All of this, it was his fault…if only he could remember what had happened last night, if only he could remember how he died….

But he did remember…

__________________​

“Managed to sneak away from your tidy parents again, uh Cyrus?” a classmate smirked as he knocked back the remaining bit of beer left in his cup.

“Heh, yeah. Not like they notice me much anyway.”

Music blared in the background as a group of teens gathered around a small basement. A large silver keg stood in the center of the room that was constantly occupied by one person or the next aiming to refill their cups.

“And I’ll have to say right on at getting us this booze, bro. Wouldn’t be a party without it.” The same boy who had spoken before said.

“Yeah…not like I pay for it anyway.” Cyrus hiccupped, and attempted to stand before falling back in the chair he sat in. His eyes drooped drunkenly, and he managed stand up again on his second try. “I better be going,” he slurred. “Don’t want the ‘rents to know I’ve been gone all night, you know?”

“Sure, man,” said his friend, lightly punching him in the fist. “Later.”

Cyrus climbed the stairs of the random person’s home and out the porch door where he saw his car parked safely in front of it. He began stumbling towards it, and as soon as he was steps away, the sound of a screen door slammed open and a girl’s voice called out to him.

“Cyrus! CYRUS!” her voice rang through his ears like a headache. The girl ran to his side and nervously held his face. “You are in no position to drive, give me your keys, I haven’t been drinking..”

“Get away from me, Morgan!” Not realizing his strength, he pushed her to the ground. She stared up at him in horror as he jabbed his key roughly into the car door.

All she could do was watch, crying, at the car swerve down the street…

__________________​

Everything went black. He was…where was he? He couldn’t see or hear anything, until, as though someone turned on a light switch, the room turned white.

Though a ‘room’ wouldn’t exactly be the best word to describe it, as there were no walls or ceiling, it was just…white. Something that could be expected to resemble the inside of a cloud.

A sound of a tapping cane echoed around, followed by footsteps and a slight limp. An elderly man in a black overcoat and sunglasses materialized before him and once right in front of him, he leaned on his wooden cane.

“You…” Cyrus whispered. “Who-What are you doing here?”

“Well, boy,” the man grinned. “Seems like someone has decided to give you a second chance.”

The man reached a firm hand out and clasped Cyrus strongly on the shoulder. In one blink, the picture changed and he was back to where he had been the night before, the place he had just remembered:

__________________​

“Sure, man,” said his friend, lightly punching him in the fist. “Later.”

Cyrus climbed the stairs of the random person’s home and out the porch door where he saw his car parked safely in front of it. He began stumbling towards it, and as soon as he was steps away, the sound of a screen door slammed open and a girl’s voice called out to him.

“Cyrus! CYRUS!” her voice rang through his ears like a headache. The girl ran to his side and nervously held his face. “You are in no position to drive, give me your keys, I haven’t been drinking..”

“O-okay,” he slurred. And this time, he handed her the keys and climbed into the passenger side of the vehicle. Things will be different this time, he thought to himself as he glanced over at the girl who was saving his life. It will all be different.

__________________

 

Mine. D:

Plot/Story:
A boy is wondering around the streets and comes to his home, making his way to his room. Wakes up, sneaks past his mother and father to get ready for school. Gets to school, but no one seems to see him when he talks to them. He makes his way home and sees his mother making dinner, the phone rings: he’s really a dead kid. He runs off into the rain, and takes to an old blind guy. Comes home and sees his mom watching a video, then Sneasel comes out. He finds out how he died, and then is given another chance for life.

This was a very good story, not to mention, it has a good lesson in it: don’t drink and drive… if that’s what you were aiming for. Anyways, this was original, it seemed to have a nice flow to it, the beginning really sucked me in and I just wanted to read more as I read more. It had a nice original throw at it as well, it wasn’t like anything I’ve ever read before. You really did put a nice spin on it, I would’ve never thought the Tentacool was going to be fought for on the video tape, nevertheless, it was a nice interesting turn in the story.

This was defiantly effort taking, and took a lot of time to come up with… maybe. D: Again, it was original, and wasn’t so skip-e. I can’t really find anything that seemed boring, or old-schooled here. D:

I did like this a lot it was very taking, especially if you know how it is to lose someone in real life. :x

Introduction:
This was also great, you seemed to not just go out in one paragraph, you expanded the introduction of the characters to full force and didn’t just leave it at that. You explained where they were, what kind of place it was. I could see every part of the surroundings. And for the characters, you didn’t just go with the looks, like most people do, but you went a step further and showed their emotions, what they were like, which made the story at that much better.

Also, you brought out the plot in the story. Questions were asked which made me think, how did this happen, what did happen, so on and such. Which really got me hooked into the story which is what you are aiming to do.

Grammar/Spelling:
I didn’t find anything here, the only few things I saw were a few maybe typos. The plot really took me in, and I couldn’t really see anything else, as I was stuck in the story and just reading, not looking for mistakes, which is a very good thing. D:

And the things that seemed to just be typos, or something of the sorts.

“Would” should be “wouldn’t” I’m guessing, since they didn’t know where he was, and if they did I don’t think they’d be having that conversation. D:

“Girl” should be “girls” since a group is more than one.

Once again, it might just be typos, well, actually I’m pretty sure they were typos. But they took me out of the story for a few seconds, though they’re really nothing much to worry about, just don’t want to make too many of them.

Length:
Just above what the minimum for these two Pokemon, but the rest of the story makes up for this indefinitely. D:

Detail:
Why even comment on this, I don’t know. This was, like the rest of the story, great. It was really eye popping and made me able to see every single itsy bit of the story, which made it all the more fun to read, though I wouldn’t expect less. :x Anyhow, this was extremely vivid. You didn’t leave a single part of the story out, you told about the sky, the surroundings, the people, the Pokemon, the voices, the emotions (which most people tend to leave out). Everything was almost like it was in front of me just, as if I were watching a movie with color and everything. This really made me get indulged into the story, it connected the telling of the story, to the things in the story; it really made me happy. xD

I just want to pull out one thing, the emotions and personality that you put into the story. It really showed, in emotional stories such as this, personalities of the characters can divide the story in a good way or a bad way. The ones (personalities) you gave the people in your story were almost life-like, Tom, who seemed like a big tough guy, wasn’t emotional, and I doubt many bodybuilding like people, cry or show emotions very much, it was very life-like in a sense.

Kudos here as well. D:

Battle:
Or I should say battle/s/. These were probably the lower part of the story, but still very good through my eyes. The only problem I really saw with them was that there wasn’t many attacks used, you described them well, but each Pokemon only used three attacks in the Sneasel battle, which seems a bit short to me. :x Don’t get me wrong, these battles were very good, but they seemed out of the story really, like they didn’t blend well with it, like you wrote them in a hurry, but not the rest of the story, which is a bit weird. D:

On another note, I’ve yet to read a story where the story continues on after the final battle takes place, which is an interesting concept here, but it really explains the plot and doesn’t leave the reader hanging as to what is going to happen, and make them worry about everything. Which we don’t want.

Final Outcome:
Yeah, this was a great story. I didn’t find much wrong with it really. I think I sounded to nice, but I didn't see any horrid things, other than this grade. Dx But, whatever… your two Pokemonz are yours now. D:

Sneasel & Tentacool captured!

Don't even think about asking about the colors. :x