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TEEN: No Region For Old Men (RG/UP collaboration)

Ultra Pidgeot

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Today, a most unholy of team-ups was created. RaccoonGoon and myself have teamed up to write a collaborative piece of Pokémon fan fiction. Enjoy!

(An important side note, while the two characters in this fic have a 7 year age difference between them in official canon, we are choosing to ignore that for the sake of readability and fun. Once more, enjoy!)

The golden morning sun rose over the gentle hills to the north of Nuvema town. Paperboys cycled down the broad streets, deftly arcing the news over sprinklers, fences, and angry dogs. A solitary milk truck coasted from home to home, replacing cases of empty bottles with ones full to the brim. Men dressed in smart suits emerged from homes, kissing wives goodbye and stepping into streamlined cars and heading off to work.

Samuel Oak sat up in his bed, running his fingers through his short sandy brown hair. He swung his legs off his bed and began heading down. As he trudged through the immaculately clean living room, his Growlithe bounded up to him, crashing into his knees. The young Samuel stooped over and scooped the small Fire Type into his arms.

“Hey, Gulliver? How’re you, buddy?”

Gulliver yipped happily and licked at his owner’s face. Samuel wrinkled his nose and laughed. Gently, he placed his Pokémon on the floor. Now awake, Sam walked into the kitchen, where his mother sat. She was sipping on a small glass of orange juice.

“Oh, good morning, Sam. How’re you?”

Sam opened the mint green refrigerator door and looked around inside, grabbed a half full bottle of milk. He plopped it down on the table before grabbing a bowl.

“Tired. Has Dad called?”

His mother set the glass of juice down and picked up the paper. She rifled through the pages.

“No. Last night he said for you to call him, remember?”

Sam poured the last of the Sugar Pops into his bowl and drowned them in milk. He ate a spoonful, chewing slowly, thinking about what to say to his dad. After breakfast, he headed to the living room, collapsed onto the sofa, and pulled the rotary phone off the side table. He slowly dialed his father’s number. After 3 rings, he could hear his father’s voice.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Hey Pop. What’s up?”

Sam could hear the sound of papers being shuffled, and, somewhere off in the background, what seemed to be a jackhammer.

“Nothing much. We’re running into problems getting this Poké Transfer to work. We’ve had some, erm...unfortunate accidents involving Rattata...”

His voice trailed off. Sam gulped.

“Are those Rattata gonna be okay, Dad?”

“Oh, probably. Hey, listen son. I know the move to Nuvema has been hard for you, but this job, I just couldn’t pass it up. It’s summer anyway. Go out and make some friends. It’ll be good for you and Gulliver. How is he, by the way?”

“He’s great, dad. Real swell. I haven’t gotten to use him in battle yet, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“That’s great. Hey, listen, I gotta go now, but stay safe and have fun, okay Sammy? I love you, son.”

Sam’s hand darted over the receiver and he sighed. His dad was so mushy sometimes.

“I, uh...love you two, Pop.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

Sam hung up the phone. Looking up, he saw his mother leaning against the doorjamb. She was frowning slightly.

“Something the matter, Mom?”

She strode over and patted her son’s unkempt head.

“No. I’m just worried about you. Your Dad was right. Go make some friends. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m sure.”

She patted him once more and he stood up. He took the stairs to his room two at a time, Gulliver happily bounding along behind him. Once inside, he opened his closet and pulled out a pair of freshly starched denim pants and a brown plaid button down. He walked over to his dresser and rummaged around in it for his dad’s old boy scouts belt. He pulled it through the belt loops, making sure the clips for his Pokéballs were in the proper position. Next, he turned to Gulliver.

“Okay, bud. I know you hate it, but you gotta get in the Pokéball.”

Gulliver whimpered and attempted to dive under Sam’s bed, but the swirling red light caught him before he could and pulled him into the small metallic sphere. He clipped it to his belt before bending over and pulling on his tattered canvas sneakers. He rode the rail down the stairs, earning a scolding from his mother. After she was finished, he pecked her on the cheek and bounded out the door. Once outside, he strutted across the perfectly manicured lawn. He knew the footprints he was leaving on the brilliant green blades would earn him another scolding from his mother, but he didn’t care. Inside the garage, he grabbed his old backpack. It was full to the brim with dried berries and a few dozen empty Pokéballs. He swung his legs over his cherry red Schwinn and took off down the street. He banked slightly to the right and headed in the direction of Route one. His parents didn’t say his friends had to be human.

He continued to glide along the asphalt, however, upon seeing a large gaggle of people crowded around a wooden stand, he applied the brakes and slowly came to a stop. A tall, severe man was gesturing to the crowd with a heavily polished wooden cane, and alongside him was a smaller, but similar looking kid around his own age.

-x-​

A small crowd was forming in front of the Nuvema Town Poké Lab. It was approaching lunch time in the small town, yet men with suits and briefcases, woman with grocery sacks, and small groups of children, boys chewing bubblegum, holding either baseball mitts, or girls with dolls and toy teapots, were fixated on one point.

A haughty man in a dapper looking business suit was slapping his cane against a large wooden sign that rested on the grass. It read it red paint-

“Rowan Family Healing Potion! Magically Heals Poke-Related Injuries in a Jiffy! 1 bottle for 20p!”


Directly next to the sign was a table, which held the strange vials of pink liquid. Behind the table was a young boy, no older than 16. He also had on a professional looking business suit. Blue vest, dark tie, and white office shirt. His dark brown hair, however, seemed messy, despite being combed. The older gentlemen addressed the crowd by again slapping his wooden cane against the sign.

“Ladies and gents, if I may have a moment of your time.”

His voice was regal and heavy, yet civilized and proper. The crowd grew silent as they looked at the salesmen.

“The Magical Healing Potion is the birth of medicine and science! It can instantly heal and revitalize an injured Pokémon! Sean, Sean, do release that Shinx you have.”

As commanded, Sean, the young Rowan, dug out a Pokéball from his coat pocket and tossed it to the ground. In a flash of light, a small lion cub looking Pokémon was revealed. It had blue and black fur, lightning colored eyes, and a spark-like tuft on the end of its tail. The Flash Pokémon stood on three legs, as its front-left paw had a small thorn stuck in it.

The crowd gasped at seeing such an alien Pokémon in Unova. The gasps turned to “B’awws” as the Unovans noticed the thorn sticking out of its paw. Truth be told, Rowan hated that he had to inflict pain on his only Pokémon for these stupid demonstrations. Worse yet, he hated having to travel with his father everywhere. He didn’t want to help sell some medicine, he wanted to explore, battle, and study the world of Pokémon.

“Yes, yes. This is truly a sad sight, indeed. But watch, folks.”

Crouching down to the Shinx, he grabbed a hold of its paw, gently took hold of the thorn, and abruptly yanked it out, causing the Shinx to wince. With the thorn out, however, the Pokémon still limped, keeping its paw raised.

“Now, as you can all see the Pokémon is still injured. So we simply get this dandy little Potion…”

He swiped a bottle of the pink liquid from the table and popped off the top.

“And apply to the injured Pokémon!”

He poured the Potion onto the injured paw, which at first sizzled, then cooled. The small bloody hole where the thorn had been closed up, instantly healing the Shinx. Shinx let out a small roar and stood on all four of his paws, feeling better.

The crowd began to explode with hushed whispers and theories.

“Black Magic, I tell you!”

“Why, what’s next, Ethel? Something that cures Poison? Machines that heal Pokémon?”

“It’s a trick, you con-artists!”

Slowly but surely, the crowd began to break apart. Some forming a line to buy these new-fangled Potions, some leaving and scoffing at such an idea.

“Yes, yes, form a line. 20p for one dose of this glorious creation! Tell your friends in other towns!”

Sean allowed his Shinx, Ambrose, to hop up into his lap as he took the money and passed out the Potions. Same routine, different town. He expected the same sales here that they received in Kanto- Average. They had been shunned from Johto, as that Region seemed to rely primarily on Berries. They made a killing in Hoenn, as sprawling lines overtook beaches. They hadn’t tried their luck in Sinnoh yet, which was odd to Sean. Sinnoh was their home Region, after all.

As soon as the Potions were sold, Sean instantly got to work packing up the surplus inventory into a few messenger bags. His father was busy talking to another gentlemen. He had a thick brown beard, a yellow sweater covered his thin frame, and his narrow eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke.

“I see you have a helper. I wish my boy Cedric would help me and the missus around the house. He’s always out “exploring”, as he calls it. He’s about your boy’s age, I believe…”

“Yes, well, us Rowan men stick together. Make good business that way.”

It always seemed like other boys his age were running around in the wild, catching Pokémon or winning battles. He met a kid his age on Cinnabar Island in Kanto with a Ponyta. A boy a few years older than himself in Mahogany Town had dreams to start a Gym someday. Why was he the only boy in the world forced to wear a business suit and spend everyday with his father?

“Well, best of luck with your travels. How long will you be in Nuvema?”

“Oh, I suppose a few more hours. We’ll catch lunch and be on our way. Thank you again for letting us take up the space in front of your establishment.”

The two men firmly shook hands.

Sean zipped up the bags and returned Shinx, before walking towards the two older men.

“Um, Mister Juniper, it’d be real keen if I could take a-”

Before he could finish, a swift slap to the back of the head was administered to him.

“What did I say about using slang?”

“Suh-Sorry father. Sir, would it be too much trouble to take a look inside your lab?”

“Of course not, sonny. C’mon in, I’ll show you all the charts and readings.”

Sean hardly doubted he’d be a “Pokémon Professor” someday, but was still impressed by all the research that had been done on the subject.

We like to study where Pokémon come from. What’s the common ancestor? The…”

Professor Juniper led Sean into the lab, letting the door close behind them. Mr. Rowan pulled a golden pocket watch from his suit and checked the time.

Pidoves chirped. Lillipups chased Purloins chasing Patrats. A cracking of a baseball could be heard from the local sandlot. The jingling of an ice-cream truck sounded, followed by the cheers from children. A burger joint could be spotted, neon sign advertising special deals and tasty soda.

“When in Unova….”

Mr. Rowan unbuttoned his coat and made his way to the restaurant. Sean would see the sign and put two and two together.

-x-​

Samuel was about to go and buy one of the awesome “Rowan Potions”, but, much to his chagrin, he had only 15p in his wallet. Oh well. He had a good hundred or so Oran berries in his pack, so he should be set. The severe looking teen disappeared into Mr. Juniper’s lab. Sam once more mounted his bicycle and headed off. After a matter of only minutes, he’d arrived at the entrance to Route One. Rolling fields of grass stretched out before him, the long, slender blades occasionally stirring as some kind of Pokémon scurried through it. Sam inhaled the warm scent of the grass; let the cool breeze blow through his hair. He hopped off the bike and wheeled it towards a tree. He propped it against the flaky bark, taking care not to scratch the glossy red paint.

Sam pulled his battered Pokéball off his belt, pressed the switch, and watched Gulliver materialize on the ground amidst a swirl of light. Once entirely there, he barked playfully and jumped at Samuel.

“Good boy. Hey, c’mon, let’s go catch us a friend!”

-x-​

“Thanks for showing me all that neat-o stuff, Mister Juniper!”

Sean exited the lab, only to find the Potion bags and the sign abandoned, his father nowhere to be seen. Looking around, he noticed the hamburger joint’s sign sticking into the skyline.

“Of course…”

He walked towards Main Street and walked behind a bus stop, peering into the restaurant. There, sitting in the cushy red booth was his father, a rather large cheeseburger and milkshake in front of him.

“He would stuff his face while I was preoccupied….”

A sudden feeling of sadness mixed with anger swept over him. He wasn’t hungry, but he would have thought his own father would have waited for him so they could both go to the restaurant. He was half of the business, after all.

“Since he went of on his own, I’ll go off on my own…”

Flashes of the Juniper lab went off in his mind. Snap shots of different Unovan Pokémon hung on the wall of the Juniper lab. Kids all around the world, some younger than himself, were catching and training Pokémon. Why couldn’t he?

He withdrew his black leather wallet and opened it up. He had enough for a few Pokéballs. He had a Pokémon of his own. He was near a Route that held Pokémon.

It was settled. He scanned the area for a blue roof, a Mart. Finding one a block or so down, he darted towards it, coat blowing behind him. He pushed open the heavy metal doors and went straight to the Pokéball counter. He decided three was enough for now.

“That’ll be 60e!” The young man with the bright red bow tie behind the counter said, ringing up the price on a brass cash register.

“Here you are.” Sean slid the bills to the young man, who in return handed over the bagged Pokéballs.

Sean exited the Mart. A sense of rebellion flowed through his being. His father had only let him have Ambrose, and that was because he was a family pet, and they needed him for demonstration. If he knew he was planning on catching more, he’d blow his top. Extra Pokémon were extra mouths to feed, extra things to take care of.

Route 1 was a simple route. Straight, grassy, pleasant. Sean released Ambrose, who purred loudly and rubbed against his owner’s leg.

“Cut the kitty act, pal, we’re going to catch you a friend.”

Instantly, Ambrose straightened up. His yellow eyes narrowed and small claws were extended from his paws. The duo slid into the tall grass, Sean peering for any movements and Ambrose adjusting his ears ever so slightly to the faintest rustle.

Suddenly, a small terrier looking Pokémon exploded from the grass. It was a small little thing, and the only thing visible on its face were its two eyes.

“Er, ah! Ambrose, use..bloody, what was that move called? Sizzle? Crackle?”

Before a command was given, the Lillipup ran straight at Ambrose with full force, knocking the Spark Pokémon over.

“Blast! Ambrose, are you ok?”

He stood up, shaking off the pain and bearing his teeth at the enemy Pokémon.

“Okay, use a Spark attack!”

Ambrose raised his fur and let out a small jolt of electricity Lillipup, who dodged it right in time.

“I know you’re not a battler, Ambrose, but try another Spark!”

Again, the Lillipup dodged the attack.

“Maybe if I just chuck a Pokéball at it…”

Sean hurled the red and white sphere at the Normal Type. The capsule opened around the Pokémon, enveloping it in a light. The ball, now holding Lillipup, fell to the ground. It shook once before exploding, shattering the Pokéball and revealing the Lillipup, perfectly fine.

“But…it...I..don’t…”

Before anything else was said, another dog-looking Pokémon burst onto the scene; its body engulfed in a wheel a fire. It crashed against the Lillipup, sending it sprawling to the ground, KO’d from such an attack.

Sean felt his neck tighten as he saw another teen standing a few yards away.

“You barbarian! I was going to catch that!”

“I’m awful sorry, mister, but I didn’t know... It was purely accidental.”

Still, Sean fumed. His first attempted capture cut short by some kid and his mutt.

“That was the Lillipup that ran off from me and Growlithe here a few minutes back….”

“Hmpf. I’ll have you know my perfectly tuned Shinx can simply catch us another, erm, one of those things.”

The other boy scratched his head.

“That looks like a cool Pokémon… Want to battle each other?”

Sean wouldn’t dare admit that his Shinx had never battled before. He knew Ambrose couldn’t win; it couldn’t even handle a simple wild encounter. Yet he couldn’t let this ruffian know that.

“Hmpf. I usually don’t get involved with such…rash activities….But if we must. Ambrose, get ready.”

Shinx looked up at his owner. Was he serious? He couldn’t be serious. A stern look from Sean convinced the Spark Pokémon, however.

Ambrose took a few wobbly steps forward, facing the opposing Pokémon and its Trainer.

-x-​

Sam’s opponent seemed, well, confused. He didn’t know he was trying to capture a Lillipup, he didn’t seem too confident in his battling abilities, and he didn’t look like he knew his Shinx’s moves too well.

“Well, okay, Gulliver. Get ready. Open with, oh... Bite.”

Samuel’s opponent pointed at Growlithe and commanded him to perform a Spark attack. The two Pokémon rushed towards each other, Shinx gathering a cloud of electricity in his soft blue fur, while Gulliver bared his teeth. The two collided in a small clearing of grass, Gulliver wincing in pain as he took the small feline in his teeth and shook him about vigorously. Gulliver spat the Electric type from his mouth and carefully backed away from his opponent until he bumped into his trainer.

“That was good, Gulliver, but this time, use Flame Wheel, and make it as powerful as you can, okay?”

The small dog nodded in response. The muscles throughout his small frame tensed, ready to attack. Sam’s opponent balled his fists in anger.

“Spark once again, Ambrose!”

Ambrose, or whatever he was called, raced towards Gulliver, who also bounded forward. The two Pokémon gathered clouds of energy around them before leaping into the air, sailing towards each other. They collided midair, flying backwards from the impact. Gulliver yelped in pain and rolled backwards in the dirt. He stood on rubbery legs that threatened to give out from underneath him at any moment. Shinx, however, stayed down, panting. Samuel’s opponent approached his friend.

“Ambrose? Come here.”

Gently, he scooped the Pokémon up off the ground and cradled him in his arms. He reached behind his back and pulled a simple potion from his messenger bag. He bit the cap off and thrust it into Shinx’s mouth, forcing him to consume the healing elixir. Slowly, the Shinx’s eyes slid open and he stood warily. The other teen returned his Pokémon to its Pokéball and turned to Sam.

“You. This is not over. I will not be defeated by some commoner such as yourself. We shall cross paths again. Mark my words.”

He shuffled off into the grass, leaving Sam alone. He shrugged and pulled a couple of dried Oran berries from his bag. He tossed them toward Gulliver, who eagerly pounced upon them. After he’d eaten them, he seemed in much better spirits.

“Okay, Gulliver. Let’s give this friend finding business another try, shall we?”

Gulliver barked happily and the duo set off into the grass.

-x-​

How could he be so stupid? He made his Shinx battle another, stronger Pokémon. Shinx wasn’t cut out for fighting, not yet anyway. He was just glad he had a Potion in-hand during the battle.

With a sigh, he returned to town and sat down next to the other bags of Potions and sulked. Today was a bust. He failed at catching a Pokémon, failed at battling, and failed at looking like an actual Trainer.

Mr. Rowan returned to the scene, mustard stain on his chin.

“Ah, yes. There you are, my boy. Ready to head to the next town?”

Sean looked up at his smug father. He knew he should help his father and his renovating invention...yet the feeling of being beaten couldn’t escape his head. If he wasn’t running around with his father all the time he could get better. Get stronger. Catch any Pokémon he wanted.... Beat that ruffian and his mutt.

“Dad.... I don’t think I want to....”

He trailed off. He couldn’t just leave his father to do all the work. Not now, anyway.

“Herm?”

“Nothing, dad. Never mind.”

“Right-o. Then let’s go. I’ll get you a bag of crisps at the service station at the edge of town.”

The two Rowans stood up, each grabbed a bag, and hoisted the sign into the back of their blue pick-up truck they had rented.

“I don’t know what I’d do without your help, son.”

“Erm, yeah dad. No problem....”

The engine started as the truck veered towards the highway, en route to Accumula Town

-fin-​

And there is Chapter 1! Like, comment, review, whatever! Just give us feedback!
 
Last edited:
No Region For Old Men
Chapter 2
By RaccoonGoon

The blue pickup truck slowly pulled into the parking lot of the Accumula Town Inn just as the sun was going down. In the bed of the truck were a sign and a crate; the Rowan Family Healing Potions were stowed inside. Behind the wheel was a robust gentleman with a salt and pepper mustache on his stern face. In the passenger seat, Sean Rowan gazed out the window. Another town, another hotel. Same old, same old.

“Here we are. I’ll go check in at the desk while you make sure the crate is locked and bolted.”

Mr. Rowan walked towards the inn lobby and Sean got to work checking the locks on the crate. The thing was too heavy for somebody to steal, and if they did steal it, they wouldn’t get far. After everything seemed okay, he grabs the two briefcases tucked behind the crate. The burgundy-red colored one was his father’s while the navy blue one was his own. In a twisted way the two pieces of luggage reminded him of the day’s past events.

Ambrose, his Shinx, had been thoroughly defeated by another young boy’s Pokémon. On top of that, he had failed at capturing another Pokémon. Things were just not looking good for him. Stuck helping his father, stuck in the same boring pattern, stuck knowing that somebody else was living an exciting life.

“That boy….” He muttered as he pushed open the door to the inn with his shoulder.

Mr. Rowan approached him and took a hold of his own suitcase, key in hand.

“We have a room on the second floor. C’mon now.”

Both Rowans entered an elevator with a young man, in the inn’s work attire, was sitting on a stool near the button panel.

“Which floor, gentlemen?”

“Second story.”

“Right-o, sir. Second story, going up.”

He clicked a button with a “2” on it, allowing the elevator to rise. A few pings sounded as the elevator came to a stop a few moments later.

“Son, I must tell you something.”

Mr. Rowan pulled out a second key from his pocket and handed it to his son.

“I feel you’re old enough to have your own room.”

Sean was taken back. He wasn’t expecting something like this, but welcomed the idea nonetheless. He could clear him mind that way, relax. Plan.

“Thanks dad. Which room is it?”

“A few down from mine, room 27. I’ll be staying in room 24.”

“Oh, ok. This is pretty keen da-”

“Cut the slang. You’re a Rowan, not one of these….Unovans…”

“Yes sir.”

“Now go on, rest up. We’ll have to be up by 6 tomorrow. And don’t order room service.”
And with that the two went to their rooms. Sean’s room was lavish for such a small inn. Emerald green carpet, a queen size bed with emerald sheets, a miniature refrigerator, a record player, and a small desk, stocked with a golden fountain pen and a stack of white stationary.

“Man…My own room.”

He set the suitcase on the bed and clicked the latches, opening it. He pulled out a toothbrush and a tube of “DentaClean” brand toothpaste and set them beside the suitcase. Next he threw his coat in the chair and kicked off his loafers, not caring, which way they flew.

“Hmpf. Now what…”

He looked back at the door and made sure it was locked. Giving it a few pulls to make sure, he tenderly removed his luggage from the bed and stood on top of it, his feet sinking into the soft mattress.

“Ambrose, get out here.”

He tossed his Pokéball onto the floor, allowing his Shinx to run free.

“Hop up here with me. Tonight we’re our own men. Tonight, we do what we want.”

Ambrose backed up a few feet, then ran and jumped at the bed. His front claws grabbed a hold, and he pulled himself onto the bed with his owner.

“I’ve wanted to try this for sixteen years….”

The teen started to jump up and down on the bed, letting his arms flail about him. With getting his own room for the night, being tired, and finally trying something his father wouldn’t allow, he started to laugh. A deep, needed laugh. The perfect way to take his mind off his troubles. Ambrose jumped along with the human, he too happy, mostly because his owner was happy.

After a few more minutes of hopping and laughing, he let his legs give out, making him plop down on the bed. A few more chuckles escaped him as Ambrose curled up beside him, tired.

“Yes…Well, I must brush my teeth and get ready for bed.”

By the time Rowan had showered, cleaned his face, brushed his teeth, and put on his night wear; Ambrose was already asleep on a pillow.

“Rest well, little buddy.”

With that, he flicked off the lamp and crawled under the sheets. He still didn’t know how to go about asking if he could travel on his own. It was obvious he wasn’t any good at battling, but with practice, anything was possible. But how could he practice if he always had to help with the Potion business?

Ambrose’s purring broke his concentration. It was a silly dream. He had tried his hand at being a Trainer and failed. That was that. He wouldn’t let it bother him any longer.

Sean scuffed Ambrose’s fur and drifted off to sleep.

-x-​

In room 24, Mr. Rowan was sitting at the desk, filling out papers and forms at a mad pace.

“So if we add fuel costs, along with the cost of living…”
He slammed his fist down and rubbed his face with his hand. They would have to sell at least eight hundred more Potions to make a profit. He went back to writing.

“If our contacts in Orre would get back to me we…Blast, where was that stock form?”

Standing up, he goes to his opened briefcase and ruffles through the stacks of papers and clothing.

“I could have sworn it was near the front of-”

Two baseball sized items caught his eye. They were red and white, and had a gloss like look to them. Brand new.

“What the devil…. These are Pokéballs…”

He held the two items to the light, examining them.

“How did these get in here? We didn’t pack these.”

Then it hit him. Rowan must have bought them in Nuvema Town while he was at the restaurant. He must of put them in the wrong briefcase whenever they packed everything up.

“That little rapscallion….”

Was his son planning to catch anything with these? Did he want to catch more Pokémon? Did he want to travel?

Mr. Rowan sat down on his bed and looked the Pokéballs over. He wasn’t stupid. He knew most kids left home at age ten to travel the Earth, catching and Training Pokémon. It was a fad that had begun ten years earlier. To him, it was quite barbaric, just an excuse to become a ruffian. But a fad was a fad. He knew his son longed to be one of those “ruffians.”

“Herm. He wants to cut it on his own, eh?”

Mr. Rowan smiled as he returned to the desk and started writing something down on a blank sheet of paper.

-x-​

Sean’s eyes snapped open. He looked around him. Ambrose was still sleeping on a pillow. His suitcase was on the floor, his clothes scattered about the room. Things looked right, but didn’t feel right.

“What time is it?”

He looked at the bedside clock. 8 o’ clock. Had his father slept in? They were late!

He kicked off the covers, making Ambrose wake up.

“C’mon Ambrose! We have to wake dad and get going.”

He hastily pulls up his pants and buttons his vest.

“Socks, where are those accursed socks?”

Ambrose, still sleepy, slinked to the foot of the bed and watched the teen scramble around the room.

“What are you staring at? Return.”
Ambrose was about to protest, but was sucked into the Pokéball mid-meow.

Sean grabbed his coat and thrust his right arm through the sleeve before a knock came at the door. He answered it. A man dressed in the inn attire stood looking fresh and peppy.

“Sean Rowan?”

“Erm, yes. That’s me.”

“Ah, excellent. You’re father wanted me to deliver these items to you.”

The bell hop handed him an envelope and two Pokéballs, the ones he had bought the day before.

“Oh, erm, thank you.”

“Yes sir.”

The bell hop held out his hand, stupid grin on his face.

“Tip?”

Sean looked at the man and scoffed.

“Here’s a tip. Take a breath mint.”

The door slammed shut.

He tore open the envelope. Inside was a thick stack of bills and a small note.

“Sean, I found the Pokéballs you bought and realized what had to be done. You’re a young man now; you should follow your own path. So, I see fit for you to go around catching those portable monstrosities or whatever you scamps call them. You’ll receive this note two hours after I depart, leaving you no chance to catch up to me. You’re truly on your own now, son. Never lose the Rowan Family sternness.

-Your father.”


Sean couldn’t believe it. His father was allowing him to go explore like all the other kids. Sure, he felt glum about the fact that his father would have to do all the work now, but the fact remained: Sean was free to become a Trainer strong enough to never lose!

He hurriedly finished dressing, and then sprinted to the elevator. Once in the lobby, he slapped his room key on the counter and ran out into the morning sunshine. He was on top of the world. In fact, the world belonged to him and Ambrose now.

“First things first. Have to trade in this suitcase for a backpack or something.”

He looked back at the road into town.

“Then I’ll catch something I’ve had my eye on….”

Chapter 2, brought to you courtesy of RaccoonGoon!
 
Hmm. I'm not entirely sure what to say.

You handled your characters pretty well, but some of the dialogue could've used revising. It seems like you two couldn't decide what kind of dialect to go with when it came to the Rowans. They seemed partly British and partly Old Westerners.

Speaking of the Old West, this story felt very "Old West", what with the traveling salesman angle and all. But at the same time, you have very recent and modern inventions, like hamburgers, neon lights, refrigerators, and (presumably) Poké Balls.

But I'm still waiting to see where you're going with this.
 
No Region For Old Men
Chapter 3
By Ultra Pidgeot

Samuel and Gulliver stumbled from the waist high grass of Route One, racing towards Nuvema town. As the golden sun began to dip below the horizon, they shot through quaint streets, passed immaculate lawns. Stopping momentarily on the side of the road, Sam glanced at his wristwatch. They had five minutes before they were in trouble. He looked at Gulliver, who was panting heavily, saliva puddling under his face.

“Sorry, pal. But we’ll get home faster with you in here.”

Gulliver was absorbed into the metallic sphere and once more, young Samuel set off. He rounded the corner and was on his street. He angled towards the low white picket fence around the border of his house’s lawn and gracefully vaulted over it and continued his sprint to the front door. He burst through, startling his mother.

“Sam! Where’ve you been?”

Panting, he dragged himself to the sofa and collapsed on it, chest heaving. His mother protested immediately and slapped at him.

“Get off this couch! You’re absolutely filthy! What have you been up to?”

“Sorry, Ma. I lost track of time. Gulliver and I were exploring Route One. We battled this weird kid and nearly captured a Lillipup and...Man, it was great.”

He collapsed on the mint green carpet, replaying the day’s events in his mind. His mother rose, flicked off the television set, and extended a slender hand to help him up. He took it and rose.

“Now, Sammy, go wash up. You’re coming with me to Accumula town tomorrow.”

At this, Sam’s previously smiling face fell. As his mother headed to her room, he followed her, dragging his feet in protest.

“Aw, mom...why? I wanna go back to Route One tomorrow and explore and-”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“None of that. We’re leaving early, so you’ll have the whole afternoon. We’re just going to grab a new spark plug for the car. And before you ask, no. Mr. Travista doesn’t have one at his hardware store here in town. I called and asked. Now. Go heat up your dinner. I want you in bed no later than...”

She grabbed his wrist and twisted the face of his watch to where she could read it.

“No later than ten thirty. Understood?”

“Sure...”

He grumbled something else she couldn’t quite understand and trudged off to the kitchen. On the counter was a glass pan of what appeared to be meatloaf. He placed it in the oven and turned up the temperature. While it was reheating, he turned the television to channel five and watched a rerun of Leave It To Bidoof. He rose at the episode’s conclusion and pulled the meatloaf from the pan and absentmindedly poked at it with his fork. He finally finished and covered it with tin foil before putting it in the fridge. Yawning, he released Gulliver and poured some kibble into his bowl.

“Alright, bud. Eat up. I’m gonna go shower off.”

Sam headed upstairs and showered, the grime and dirt of the day swirling down the drain. He stepped out some fifteen minutes later, toweled off, and headed for his room. Gulliver was waiting on his bed, chewing contentedly on an old sneaker he’d pulled from underneath Sam’s bed. Sam laughed at him and petted his head, crawled under the sheets, and fell asleep.

-x-​

Sam awoke to his mother standing over him, shaking him vigorously.

“Sam, wake up! We need to leave in-oh, you’re up.”

“Sure am...”

He swung his numb legs away from his mother and headed for his overflowing dresser.

“Sam, hurry up, we’ve got to go in fifteen minutes and you still need to shower.”

He grumbled about he’d showered the previous night, pulled out some denim pants and a short. He turned on his heel, glaring at his mother.

“You gonna watch me change or something?”

She made a sort of surprised oh! sound and stumbled out, closing the door behind her. Sam pulled the pants on, bent over and rolled them up slightly, as they were here his father’s and were several inches too long. Next, he pulled on a white under shirt before donning a red plaid shirt. He stomped down the stairs, Gulliver running along happily beside him. His mother saw him and grimaced.

“Sam... Those clothes... It’s hot out, and you can’t take Gulliver with you. He’ll just get in the way.”

Same rolled up the sleeves quickly.

“There. And Gulliver will stay in his Pokéball.”

He flashed it and absorbed Gulliver quickly, stashed it in his pants pocket, and headed out the door. Exasperated, his mother followed him out and climbed into the car. The ride to Accumula was quiet, save for the radio his mother turned on. After what seemed, to Sam, like an eternity, they reached Accumula. His mother pulled on her hat and headed into the store, while Sam waited behind outside. Once he was satisfied she could no longer see him, he released Gulliver, who barked happily. Sam shushed him.

“You gotta stay quiet. I don’t want mom to hear you.”

Sam craned his neck, looking around town. He saw a sign for a drug store a ways away and popped his head inside the auto center.

“Hey, mom? I’m gonna walk to that drug store and grab a soda? Okay?”

Somewhere, far from the entrance, she answered.

“Sure thing, I’ll pick you up when I’m done.”

Now excited, Sam strutted off towards the store, Gulliver amiably bounding alongside him. He passed several rough looking kids, clothes in tatters, Pokéballs hanging from their belts. He approached one and tapped the young man on the shoulder.

“Hey, what’s-”

He was cut off by the teen throwing his arms over his head and running away at full tilt. As he did so, he screamed back to Sam.

“Our eyes never met! It doesn’t count!”

Sam scratched his head in confusion, but decided to continue to the drugstore regardless. He passed multiple other similar youths, bedraggled, laden with Pokéballs, and doing their best not to make eye contact with him. Finally, he reached the drug store. Before he could enter, an older man behind the counter halted him.

“Sorry, kid. Unless you have a Pokéball, I can’t let you in here with that, uh, what is that?”

“It’s a Growlithe, they’re not from here. they’re from Kanto.”

He withdrew his Pokéball and returned Growlithe before strolling in and perusing their wares. The drug store was small, but stocked to the ceilings with items. Sam walked up the counter and purchased a malt before sitting down in a booth towards the back of the establishment. He sipped on it leisurely, examining the various patrons entering and leaving the establishment. Most of them were the ones he’d seen stumbling into town.

Then, one of them entered the shop that was somehow...different. She had the Pokéballs around her belt, but she was neither tired nor bedraggled. On the contrary, her clothing was pristine, her face bright and full of life. Sam found himself admiring how her wavy brown hair framed said face, and how soft her features were. Then, he noticed her glance in his direction. He gasped in surprise, accidentally inhaling the ice-cold malt he was consuming. He coughed and spluttered for a moment before regaining his composure. When he looked back up, she was covering her mouth with her hand laughing softly. He stood and strode over to her, putting on his best stern face.

“What’re you laughing at, exactly?”

She smiled softly and stared forward, watching the man behind the counter retrieve some pills from the shelf.

“You making a fool of yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pay the man here.”

She placed a few dollars on the counter, told the man he could keep the change, and began to leave. Sam strutted after her, noticing a few Pokéballs dangling from her belt.

“Hey!”

She spun and glared at him. Her tone was terse, angry.

“What?!”

“I see you’re a trainer. Well, uh, so am I! So... Battle me!”

“Fine, but I hope your Pokémon is strong, as I have three to your one.”

Sam grinned excitedly. He’d wiped the floor with that weird kid, couldn’t he do the same with a girl?

“Oh, it’s strong all right! Gulliver, go!”

He released Gulliver, who landed and glared at the enemy. The female trainer scoffed.

“Pff! This will be easy! Palpitoad!”

Sam didn’t know what a “Palpitoad” was, but he felt confident Gulliver could manage it.

“Okay, Gulliver, use Flame Wheel!”

Gulliver surrounded himself with a veil of fire and ran headlong at his bumpy blue enemy.

“Palpitoad, use Mud Shot, then finish him with a Bubble Beam!”

Before Gulliver could make contact with his opponent, a thin jet of mud coated him, dousing the flame. Immediately afterward, a stream of bubbles exploded around him, knocking him to and fro. He staggered about for a moment before collapsing, unable to battle any longer. Sam fell to his knees, distraught.

“How did you...?”

The female trainer helped him up and proffered him a small yellow crystal.

“Simple. Palpitoad is a Ground and Water type. Both his types are super effective against Growlithe. Use this on him. It’s a revive crystal. It’ll wake him up, but he’ll still need healing. Bye now.”

She turned to leave but stopped and slowly turned back to Sam.

“I guess you haven’t been on the losing end of a battle before, have you?”

“No. This was only my second battle.”

She bit her lower lip, unsure of how to continue.

“Well, it’s tradition for the loser to give the winner some money so they can buy healing items. I don’t suppose you-”

Sam cut her off by pulling a 5 dollar bill from his pocket and holding it out for her to take.

“It’s all I have left, sorry.”

“Oh, it’s fine.”

She smiled sheepishly and walked off. Sam glumly returned Gulliver to his Pokéball and headed towards the auto center. His mother was apparently just finishing up, as she wasn’t in the car yet.

“Oh, hi Sam! Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Sure.”

He slid into the seat.

“Something the matter, son?”

The car backed out and headed down the street.

“I lost at a Pokémon battle to a girl. I can’t just keep Gulliver little like this.”

At this he turned and faced his mother.

“Ma, I wanna go be a Pokémon trainer. Rough it in the wild, catch new Pokémon, battle other trainers.”

“I figured as much. You’re getting to be that age, anyhow. I’ll let you go on one condition.”

Sam’s face lit up, a massive smile replacing his frown.

“What is it, what is it?”

“Calm down. Just... be sure to call me whenever you get the opportunity, okay?”

“Sure, sure!”

She sped up as the car entered the highway.

“We’ll back your bags as soon as we get home, understood?”

“Yes!”

Sam hooted and hollered in excitement as they headed home.

There it is. Be sure to comment!!!
 
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