I know theres a whole bunch of takes on this, so I hope I put a new twist on it. Tell me how it is.
“…………”
It all unfolded slowly- He and his amazing Pokemon, training for years in that God forsaken mountain, the eerie silence that seemed to echo down the rock corridors, the satisfaction of making his Pokemon, his partners, his best friends, becoming some of strongest pocket monsters in the world.
Apparently, however, not the strongest.
But he was, due to the title, a Champion at one point. Some would even say, due to his incredibly strong Pokemon, a Master, a Pokemon Master. He had truly mastered Pokemon and all of it’s aspects. Catching rare, unique creatures, Training simple Pokemon to their highest, and Battled with extreme talent.
And the sacrifice, oh, the terrible sacrifice of prestige. He left home at a young age, traveled around the land, risking his life to stop a criminal force known as Team Rocket, and defeated the terribly powerful Elite 4.
But that was only the tip of the iceberg.
After becoming Champion, a law was passed. After the Kanto-Johto War, the two neighboring Regions agreed to open up to one another, building a connecting Route to cross the Regional Border. They even collaborated the construction of Ferries and, more importantly, the Magnet Train, boosting both Region's infrastructure.
This, at first, seemed great to the “Pokemon Master”. This new law allowed him to train at that cold, formidable mountain that divided the Kanto-Johto landmass. Mt.Silver. Pokemon there were strong, the endless caverns were damp and chilled. For three years, three long, torturous years, he and his Pokemon lived off of bland food rations and raw Zubat. Yes, Zubat. The mighty “Master” had to resort to slaughter. But what was slaughter of innocent Pokemon when you were the best? His only parent, his mother, worried about him of course, but he never checked in with her. He was to busy becoming a god among lesser Trainers. He never checked in with Elite 4 base, causing one of the former Champions to resume his title. He didn’t even tell his old Rival or mentor where he was going. That was his past. His weak, pitiful past.
Oh, he had sacrificed, that was for sure. His friends, his family, and even his sanity. But not his Pokemon. No, never his friends. These were his true family now, up on the freezing summit. They enjoyed the raw Zubat as much as he did. He, and his "family" had sacrificed a lot.
Perhaps that was why he was speechless at his defeat.
He had thought this new border law would only make him stronger, but he was wrong, terribly wrong. At that point he hated that stupid border law. Some punk kid, a little brat who had got lucky, managed to make it to the top Mt.Silver. This guy, with some Fire-Badger- thing and a stupid smirk on his face had apparently started his journey in some town smaller than his own home town. Just some mediocre Trainer from Johto. Since when was Johto known for strong Trainers?
But the fact remains that this kid had went on the same kind of journey, beat the same Elite 4 more or less, and had gathered sixteen total Gym Badges- he had completed the Kanto Gym Circuit as well as the Johto one, something the so called “Master” overlooked to do while training on Mt.Silver.
The fact remains that this kid with a golden hat had done the same things, and more, then he ever did, and defeated the oh-so powerful “Master’s” team of perfectly tuned Pokemon. Not even the skill of his prized Pikachu triumphed against this Johto-bred Trainer and his array of superb Pokemon.
He was always silent, sure, but when his last Pokemon, his Charizard, hit the cold ground, knocked out, he couldn’t even comprehend speaking to the person that bested him. In a matter of minutes the mighty Pokemon Master was the loser, he had fallen from grace, he…..he had failed. He and his Pokemon both, failed. He was no longer a Champion, Master, or anything else but a failure. A loser.
He couldn’t say anything.
He ran past the victor and ran down towards the base of the mountain. All he could hear was silence. Sickening silence. Silence that reminded him of all the hard work, all he had to sacrifice, all the time he had wasted- just to be beaten by some lousy Johto kid.
He kept running even after he exited the mountain. He didn’t care which direction he was going, he didn’t care about his injured Pokemon that needed to be healed. He didn’t care how bright the sunshine was. He didn’t care he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts, the only thing there was silence. Sickening, sickening silence.
He didn’t remember passing out from exhaustion, but he awoke in his old room in Pallet Town, still the same as it was over 3 years ago. He doesn’t remember what words his friends and family told him as he was resting in bed….heck, he doesn’t remember how long it took until he got out of bed and walked around.
He does remember never leaving his house again. He remembers never talking again, except to his mother and his mentor, Professor Oak, and even that was rare nowadays as Professor Oak took routine trips to Johto and even Sinnoh at times. He remembers not hearing from his Old Rival again, Blue Oak. He had a gym to run now, or so his mother said. He remembers not battling his Pokemon ever again, or even speaking of such a thing.
He remembers the cold, dark mountain he lost himself in, the years of training, he remembers the Johto-kid’s name: Gold. Fitting really.
He also remembers the deathly silence that truly overtook him at his loss……
“………………”
----------------------------------
"To Be A Master"
by Pontius
by Pontius
“…………”
It all unfolded slowly- He and his amazing Pokemon, training for years in that God forsaken mountain, the eerie silence that seemed to echo down the rock corridors, the satisfaction of making his Pokemon, his partners, his best friends, becoming some of strongest pocket monsters in the world.
Apparently, however, not the strongest.
But he was, due to the title, a Champion at one point. Some would even say, due to his incredibly strong Pokemon, a Master, a Pokemon Master. He had truly mastered Pokemon and all of it’s aspects. Catching rare, unique creatures, Training simple Pokemon to their highest, and Battled with extreme talent.
And the sacrifice, oh, the terrible sacrifice of prestige. He left home at a young age, traveled around the land, risking his life to stop a criminal force known as Team Rocket, and defeated the terribly powerful Elite 4.
But that was only the tip of the iceberg.
After becoming Champion, a law was passed. After the Kanto-Johto War, the two neighboring Regions agreed to open up to one another, building a connecting Route to cross the Regional Border. They even collaborated the construction of Ferries and, more importantly, the Magnet Train, boosting both Region's infrastructure.
This, at first, seemed great to the “Pokemon Master”. This new law allowed him to train at that cold, formidable mountain that divided the Kanto-Johto landmass. Mt.Silver. Pokemon there were strong, the endless caverns were damp and chilled. For three years, three long, torturous years, he and his Pokemon lived off of bland food rations and raw Zubat. Yes, Zubat. The mighty “Master” had to resort to slaughter. But what was slaughter of innocent Pokemon when you were the best? His only parent, his mother, worried about him of course, but he never checked in with her. He was to busy becoming a god among lesser Trainers. He never checked in with Elite 4 base, causing one of the former Champions to resume his title. He didn’t even tell his old Rival or mentor where he was going. That was his past. His weak, pitiful past.
Oh, he had sacrificed, that was for sure. His friends, his family, and even his sanity. But not his Pokemon. No, never his friends. These were his true family now, up on the freezing summit. They enjoyed the raw Zubat as much as he did. He, and his "family" had sacrificed a lot.
Perhaps that was why he was speechless at his defeat.
He had thought this new border law would only make him stronger, but he was wrong, terribly wrong. At that point he hated that stupid border law. Some punk kid, a little brat who had got lucky, managed to make it to the top Mt.Silver. This guy, with some Fire-Badger- thing and a stupid smirk on his face had apparently started his journey in some town smaller than his own home town. Just some mediocre Trainer from Johto. Since when was Johto known for strong Trainers?
But the fact remains that this kid had went on the same kind of journey, beat the same Elite 4 more or less, and had gathered sixteen total Gym Badges- he had completed the Kanto Gym Circuit as well as the Johto one, something the so called “Master” overlooked to do while training on Mt.Silver.
The fact remains that this kid with a golden hat had done the same things, and more, then he ever did, and defeated the oh-so powerful “Master’s” team of perfectly tuned Pokemon. Not even the skill of his prized Pikachu triumphed against this Johto-bred Trainer and his array of superb Pokemon.
He was always silent, sure, but when his last Pokemon, his Charizard, hit the cold ground, knocked out, he couldn’t even comprehend speaking to the person that bested him. In a matter of minutes the mighty Pokemon Master was the loser, he had fallen from grace, he…..he had failed. He and his Pokemon both, failed. He was no longer a Champion, Master, or anything else but a failure. A loser.
He couldn’t say anything.
He ran past the victor and ran down towards the base of the mountain. All he could hear was silence. Sickening silence. Silence that reminded him of all the hard work, all he had to sacrifice, all the time he had wasted- just to be beaten by some lousy Johto kid.
He kept running even after he exited the mountain. He didn’t care which direction he was going, he didn’t care about his injured Pokemon that needed to be healed. He didn’t care how bright the sunshine was. He didn’t care he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts, the only thing there was silence. Sickening, sickening silence.
He didn’t remember passing out from exhaustion, but he awoke in his old room in Pallet Town, still the same as it was over 3 years ago. He doesn’t remember what words his friends and family told him as he was resting in bed….heck, he doesn’t remember how long it took until he got out of bed and walked around.
He does remember never leaving his house again. He remembers never talking again, except to his mother and his mentor, Professor Oak, and even that was rare nowadays as Professor Oak took routine trips to Johto and even Sinnoh at times. He remembers not hearing from his Old Rival again, Blue Oak. He had a gym to run now, or so his mother said. He remembers not battling his Pokemon ever again, or even speaking of such a thing.
He remembers the cold, dark mountain he lost himself in, the years of training, he remembers the Johto-kid’s name: Gold. Fitting really.
He also remembers the deathly silence that truly overtook him at his loss……
“………………”
----------------------------------
The End
