Chapter 6.5 - Celadon City
AetherX
make plove not warble
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- Jun 10, 2010
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Re: "Unpredictable" (PG-13)
Yay, finals are over! Now I can get back to writing... Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you have been a tremendous help.
This chapter was interesting to write. I had some trouble figuring out the best ways to convey emotion and give subtle hints as to the personality of the character himself. My apologies for any possible lack of realism in the hospital scene, I've beensmart fortunate enough to stay out of hospitals and avoid major injuries (for the most part).
Time to step back into the shoes of the Flygon trainer. He gets a name this time, I don't know why I've been holding it back. You'll get a lot of background on his character. For those of you worried about Flygon, this is the chapter to look to. No action here, by the way, just character development, deal with it.
Chapter 6.5
The Flygon trainer caused quite a stir when he finally stumbled into the streets of Celadon. He was drenched in blood, both his and his Pokémon’s, despite the fact that he had done his best to bandage their wounds with scraps of clothing. He had no energy to ask for help, all he could do was collapse on the sidewalk. Exhaustion and blood loss tugged at his consciousness, but he refused to give in. He had to save Flygon. Only when several good Samaritans carried him and his Pokémon to their respective medical centers did he finally allow himself to lapse into unconsciousness.
He awoke days later in a hospital bed. His arm was in a cast and sling. “What’s going on?” he asked, delusional, as he opened his eyes.
Then the memories rushed back in a deluge.
“Flygon!” he called out loud, sitting up quickly. This was a bad idea. Pain shot through his entire body, especially his ribs. It was complete and utter agony. The man cried out in pain as he fell back onto his pillow.
The noise caught the attention of a nurse outside in the hallway, who hurried to his side. “Mr. Weiss, you’re awake! This is good. You probably shouldn’t be moving around much yet.”
Damn, thought the man, they must have found my ID card. I guess there’s no way of hiding my name now. Hopefully they’re discrete.
“Thanks for the heads up,” he groaned. “and please, call me Nolan.”
“All right then Nolan, how do you feel?”
“Like I just fell hundreds of feet out of the sky,” Nolan replied, smiling sardonically.
The nurse clearly didn’t catch the implied irony of the statement. “May I ask what exactly happened?”
He almost laughed, but stopped himself when he realized how much it would hurt his ribs. “You did look at my ID card right?”
“Yes, I….”
“Then you shouldn’t be surprised to know that I’m not going to answer that question.”
She just shut her mouth and nodded. She had seen the symbol of the International Police Corps emblazoned upon the man’s identification card.
Nolan was satisfied; it had been worth the trouble to get that symbol imprinted on his ID. Even if he technically wasn’t a member of the IPC, he fancied that since he fought for many of the same ideals, he didn’t have to feel guilty for the forged seal.
“What about my Flygon? Is she alright?”
She looked at him quizzically for a second before saying, “Oh, that’s right. They said you were found with a Flygon.”
Nolan began to get edgy. “Was she taken to the Pokémon Center? Is she okay?”
“I don’t actually know, but I could go check if you want.”
“Yes!” he practically yelled, before taking a deep yet painful breath to calm himself down. “Could you please do that for me?”
The nurse, a little taken aback from his outburst, nodded. “Of course.”
She left the room and Nolan stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know what he would do if Flygon died. He closed his eyes to stem the inevitable tears.
This had all been his fault. He should have known that the helicopter was armed. He should have brought his other Pokémon with him. He should have gotten to the city faster. He should have had some sort of first aid kit with him to treat her wounds.
There were so many memories of Flygon. When he fell into the then Trapinch’s trap in the desert and was almost eaten alive before his Grovyle finally managed to knock her into submission for his Poké Ball…. When she evolved into a Vibrava in the middle of his gym battle against Norman…. When she broke out of his Poké Ball and finally evolved into a Flygon in order to subdue the legendary Pokémon Rayquaza, even after it had defeated Sceptile…. The first time he flew with her, high above the foggy peak of Mt. Pyre and the beautifully endless ocean around Hoenn.
The mere thought of Flygon being dead sent an intense pang of guilt through his heart. It was like a weight that held him onto the bed. An empty spot, devoid of any feeling but sadness.
Nolan had to keep reminding himself that no, Flygon was not dead. Whenever he told himself this, a tiny part of his brain whispered back, “not yet.”
Before long, exhaustion pulled him out of his misery and into a nightmare filled sleep.
*****
The nurse’s return woke Nolan not much later and he sat up, more slowly this time, eager for news. “Well?”
“I talked to a doctor at the Pokémon Center and he said that your Flygon was on the mend…”
Nolan let out a whoop.
“…it had to undergo fairly drastic surgery and won’t be able to get up and around for another couple weeks, but it’s okay.”
“Can I go visit?”
“You aren’t allowed to get up at all until your own wounds heal more…”
Nolan interrupted again, “and how long will that take?”
“Another day or so until you can walk, but you shouldn’t be leaving the hospital for another week at least.”
Nolan shook his head. “I’ll be out of here in four days tops. Do what you need to do, but get it done by then.” Without waiting for a reply, he lay back down and closed his eyes. A total giddiness enveloped his body, almost making him visibly shiver. Flygon was alive!
*****
Nolan pushed his lunch tray away from him. The hospital’s food wasn’t that bad, but it left a slight aftertaste in his mouth like he had just thrown up.
It was three days after he had originally woken up, and his doctor had said he was making a remarkable recovery. Currently, the man was out of the room examining some x-rays and test results from earlier that day.
Nolan decided to lay down to stare at the ceiling, a pastime he found rather entertaining in situations such as this.
About ten minutes later, the short bald doctor finally walked into the room. “Well Nolan,” he said, “it looks like you are doing amazingly well. Your arm and ribs are healing nicely. The… ahh… wounds in your shoulder don’t seem to be infected, so we will probably be able to remove the bandages in another day or so. And of course you seem to have recovered from the shock and exhaustion you were originally diagnosed with.”
“Soooo….” Nolan looked at him expectantly, his eyes again asking the question he had been pestering the doctor with over and over for the past three days.
“Yes, you can go. But come back tomorrow so we can have another look at those bandages. We’ll discuss when the cast can be removed then as well.”
“Excellent,” Nolan pushed his sheets off him and climbed out of his bed. He was already fully dressed in anticipation of the doctor’s news. He pulled his backpack out from under his bed and swept from the room, thanking the doctor profusely.
Nolan blinked in the sunlight as he stepped outside the Celadon Hospital and brushed a blond hair out of his eye. The sun felt good on his normally tan skin, which was now slightly paler due to being cooped up inside. With his backpack on a single uninjured shoulder, he began quickly walking to the Pokémon Center.
Rather than wait for a nurse to come help him at the currently empty front desk, Nolan walked straight back into the medical rooms. Almost immediately he was accosted by a doctor.
“Hey, you! You’re not supposed to be back here,” said the man as he strode over to Nolan.
The trainer ignored the statement. “Where’s my Flygon?”
“Oh of course, you’re the Flygon’s trainer.” The Pokémon doctor looked Nolan up and down, examining his cast and bandages. “I’m sorry but your Flygon is resting right now. I’m afraid I can’t permit visiting until later today.”
Nolan nodded, “Alright I’ll be back in two hours.” He desperately wanted to see his friend, but knew that her health was more important.
The doctor seemed surprised at the lack of argument but said nothing more.
Back in the lobby of the center, Nolan walked over to the transfer machine. He punched a few numbers on the keypad and waited as the comm-screen showed a “connecting” animation. A few seconds later, the big joyful face of Littleroot Town’s professor filled the screen.
“NOLAN! How’re ya doin m’boy?” Birch shouted with a grin, which faded upon his noticing Nolan’s injuries. “What the hell happened t’you? You all right? Where’s Flygon?”
The trainer smiled slightly before saying, “I’d rather not talk about it right now. Could you please send over my other five Pokémon?”
“Absolutely kid, the normal crew?”
Nolan rolled his eyes. “No, a Sandshrew and the four Zigzagoon I caught on my way to Petalburg. Yes, the normal crew.”
The professor laughed heartily. “Alrighty then, just let me get ‘em rounded up.” He disappeared off screen for a minute, in which Nolan heard him yell “HEY! NOLAN’S BOYS! YOUR TRAINER WANTS YA!”
Professor Birch had nobly agreed to watch over Nolan’s Pokémon whenever he was on a mission. Birch had been one of the few people he had confided in as to what he was actually doing in Kanto and Johto.
Immediately after the shout, Nolan’s Gardevoir teleported on-screen with a flash. Seconds later the giant, evil, grinning face of his Banette took up the entire screen as it materialized in front of Gardevoir.
Nolan laughed as Professor Birch brushed it aside. “Now now, get back in yer Poké Balls. Alright Nolan, transfer’s ready from my end.”
Nolan hit a few more buttons. “Okay, ready to receive.”
He watched as one Poké Ball dropped, then another, into the basket next to the monitor from a large chute that went in to the wall overhead. He had never really done any research on how these things worked, but he had been told that it operated using the same system as a Poké Ball. The energy that Pokémon were converted into when they go inside the ball could be transported over long distances near instantaneously to another Poké Ball at another machine.
“Professor, why do you insist on calling my Pokémon “boys”? Most of them are actually female. Flygon’s female, as is Gardevoir, Sceptile’s a boy but I’m pretty sure Banette’s a girl…”
“Aww quit yer nitpickin’. Besides, it looks like you’d make a pretty shoddy professor, Banette’s about the manliest ghost-type I’ve ever seen!”
“Alright fine, you win. Banette is my newest Pokémon after all, I’ve only had it for a few months.”
“Y’know, any trainer but yourself would say a few months was enough t’ completely bond with a Pokémon.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nolan replied as the fifth ball dropped into the basket, “a year at least, probably more. Anyway, I’m set here. See you around, Professor.”
“You’re one of a kind m’boy, one of kind. Keep out of trouble.” With that he signed off.
Until Nolan clipped the five new balls on to his belt, he had forgotten about the smashed one. To make matters worse, he currently had no money to buy a new ball for Flygon. “I guess we’re going to have to keep one out at all times. This is going to be a long few months….”
*****
NEXT: Tim challenges Misty!
Yay, finals are over! Now I can get back to writing... Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you have been a tremendous help.
This chapter was interesting to write. I had some trouble figuring out the best ways to convey emotion and give subtle hints as to the personality of the character himself. My apologies for any possible lack of realism in the hospital scene, I've been
Time to step back into the shoes of the Flygon trainer. He gets a name this time, I don't know why I've been holding it back. You'll get a lot of background on his character. For those of you worried about Flygon, this is the chapter to look to. No action here, by the way, just character development, deal with it.
Chapter 6.5
The Flygon trainer caused quite a stir when he finally stumbled into the streets of Celadon. He was drenched in blood, both his and his Pokémon’s, despite the fact that he had done his best to bandage their wounds with scraps of clothing. He had no energy to ask for help, all he could do was collapse on the sidewalk. Exhaustion and blood loss tugged at his consciousness, but he refused to give in. He had to save Flygon. Only when several good Samaritans carried him and his Pokémon to their respective medical centers did he finally allow himself to lapse into unconsciousness.
He awoke days later in a hospital bed. His arm was in a cast and sling. “What’s going on?” he asked, delusional, as he opened his eyes.
Then the memories rushed back in a deluge.
“Flygon!” he called out loud, sitting up quickly. This was a bad idea. Pain shot through his entire body, especially his ribs. It was complete and utter agony. The man cried out in pain as he fell back onto his pillow.
The noise caught the attention of a nurse outside in the hallway, who hurried to his side. “Mr. Weiss, you’re awake! This is good. You probably shouldn’t be moving around much yet.”
Damn, thought the man, they must have found my ID card. I guess there’s no way of hiding my name now. Hopefully they’re discrete.
“Thanks for the heads up,” he groaned. “and please, call me Nolan.”
“All right then Nolan, how do you feel?”
“Like I just fell hundreds of feet out of the sky,” Nolan replied, smiling sardonically.
The nurse clearly didn’t catch the implied irony of the statement. “May I ask what exactly happened?”
He almost laughed, but stopped himself when he realized how much it would hurt his ribs. “You did look at my ID card right?”
“Yes, I….”
“Then you shouldn’t be surprised to know that I’m not going to answer that question.”
She just shut her mouth and nodded. She had seen the symbol of the International Police Corps emblazoned upon the man’s identification card.
Nolan was satisfied; it had been worth the trouble to get that symbol imprinted on his ID. Even if he technically wasn’t a member of the IPC, he fancied that since he fought for many of the same ideals, he didn’t have to feel guilty for the forged seal.
“What about my Flygon? Is she alright?”
She looked at him quizzically for a second before saying, “Oh, that’s right. They said you were found with a Flygon.”
Nolan began to get edgy. “Was she taken to the Pokémon Center? Is she okay?”
“I don’t actually know, but I could go check if you want.”
“Yes!” he practically yelled, before taking a deep yet painful breath to calm himself down. “Could you please do that for me?”
The nurse, a little taken aback from his outburst, nodded. “Of course.”
She left the room and Nolan stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know what he would do if Flygon died. He closed his eyes to stem the inevitable tears.
This had all been his fault. He should have known that the helicopter was armed. He should have brought his other Pokémon with him. He should have gotten to the city faster. He should have had some sort of first aid kit with him to treat her wounds.
There were so many memories of Flygon. When he fell into the then Trapinch’s trap in the desert and was almost eaten alive before his Grovyle finally managed to knock her into submission for his Poké Ball…. When she evolved into a Vibrava in the middle of his gym battle against Norman…. When she broke out of his Poké Ball and finally evolved into a Flygon in order to subdue the legendary Pokémon Rayquaza, even after it had defeated Sceptile…. The first time he flew with her, high above the foggy peak of Mt. Pyre and the beautifully endless ocean around Hoenn.
The mere thought of Flygon being dead sent an intense pang of guilt through his heart. It was like a weight that held him onto the bed. An empty spot, devoid of any feeling but sadness.
Nolan had to keep reminding himself that no, Flygon was not dead. Whenever he told himself this, a tiny part of his brain whispered back, “not yet.”
Before long, exhaustion pulled him out of his misery and into a nightmare filled sleep.
*****
The nurse’s return woke Nolan not much later and he sat up, more slowly this time, eager for news. “Well?”
“I talked to a doctor at the Pokémon Center and he said that your Flygon was on the mend…”
Nolan let out a whoop.
“…it had to undergo fairly drastic surgery and won’t be able to get up and around for another couple weeks, but it’s okay.”
“Can I go visit?”
“You aren’t allowed to get up at all until your own wounds heal more…”
Nolan interrupted again, “and how long will that take?”
“Another day or so until you can walk, but you shouldn’t be leaving the hospital for another week at least.”
Nolan shook his head. “I’ll be out of here in four days tops. Do what you need to do, but get it done by then.” Without waiting for a reply, he lay back down and closed his eyes. A total giddiness enveloped his body, almost making him visibly shiver. Flygon was alive!
*****
Nolan pushed his lunch tray away from him. The hospital’s food wasn’t that bad, but it left a slight aftertaste in his mouth like he had just thrown up.
It was three days after he had originally woken up, and his doctor had said he was making a remarkable recovery. Currently, the man was out of the room examining some x-rays and test results from earlier that day.
Nolan decided to lay down to stare at the ceiling, a pastime he found rather entertaining in situations such as this.
About ten minutes later, the short bald doctor finally walked into the room. “Well Nolan,” he said, “it looks like you are doing amazingly well. Your arm and ribs are healing nicely. The… ahh… wounds in your shoulder don’t seem to be infected, so we will probably be able to remove the bandages in another day or so. And of course you seem to have recovered from the shock and exhaustion you were originally diagnosed with.”
“Soooo….” Nolan looked at him expectantly, his eyes again asking the question he had been pestering the doctor with over and over for the past three days.
“Yes, you can go. But come back tomorrow so we can have another look at those bandages. We’ll discuss when the cast can be removed then as well.”
“Excellent,” Nolan pushed his sheets off him and climbed out of his bed. He was already fully dressed in anticipation of the doctor’s news. He pulled his backpack out from under his bed and swept from the room, thanking the doctor profusely.
Nolan blinked in the sunlight as he stepped outside the Celadon Hospital and brushed a blond hair out of his eye. The sun felt good on his normally tan skin, which was now slightly paler due to being cooped up inside. With his backpack on a single uninjured shoulder, he began quickly walking to the Pokémon Center.
Rather than wait for a nurse to come help him at the currently empty front desk, Nolan walked straight back into the medical rooms. Almost immediately he was accosted by a doctor.
“Hey, you! You’re not supposed to be back here,” said the man as he strode over to Nolan.
The trainer ignored the statement. “Where’s my Flygon?”
“Oh of course, you’re the Flygon’s trainer.” The Pokémon doctor looked Nolan up and down, examining his cast and bandages. “I’m sorry but your Flygon is resting right now. I’m afraid I can’t permit visiting until later today.”
Nolan nodded, “Alright I’ll be back in two hours.” He desperately wanted to see his friend, but knew that her health was more important.
The doctor seemed surprised at the lack of argument but said nothing more.
Back in the lobby of the center, Nolan walked over to the transfer machine. He punched a few numbers on the keypad and waited as the comm-screen showed a “connecting” animation. A few seconds later, the big joyful face of Littleroot Town’s professor filled the screen.
“NOLAN! How’re ya doin m’boy?” Birch shouted with a grin, which faded upon his noticing Nolan’s injuries. “What the hell happened t’you? You all right? Where’s Flygon?”
The trainer smiled slightly before saying, “I’d rather not talk about it right now. Could you please send over my other five Pokémon?”
“Absolutely kid, the normal crew?”
Nolan rolled his eyes. “No, a Sandshrew and the four Zigzagoon I caught on my way to Petalburg. Yes, the normal crew.”
The professor laughed heartily. “Alrighty then, just let me get ‘em rounded up.” He disappeared off screen for a minute, in which Nolan heard him yell “HEY! NOLAN’S BOYS! YOUR TRAINER WANTS YA!”
Professor Birch had nobly agreed to watch over Nolan’s Pokémon whenever he was on a mission. Birch had been one of the few people he had confided in as to what he was actually doing in Kanto and Johto.
Immediately after the shout, Nolan’s Gardevoir teleported on-screen with a flash. Seconds later the giant, evil, grinning face of his Banette took up the entire screen as it materialized in front of Gardevoir.
Nolan laughed as Professor Birch brushed it aside. “Now now, get back in yer Poké Balls. Alright Nolan, transfer’s ready from my end.”
Nolan hit a few more buttons. “Okay, ready to receive.”
He watched as one Poké Ball dropped, then another, into the basket next to the monitor from a large chute that went in to the wall overhead. He had never really done any research on how these things worked, but he had been told that it operated using the same system as a Poké Ball. The energy that Pokémon were converted into when they go inside the ball could be transported over long distances near instantaneously to another Poké Ball at another machine.
“Professor, why do you insist on calling my Pokémon “boys”? Most of them are actually female. Flygon’s female, as is Gardevoir, Sceptile’s a boy but I’m pretty sure Banette’s a girl…”
“Aww quit yer nitpickin’. Besides, it looks like you’d make a pretty shoddy professor, Banette’s about the manliest ghost-type I’ve ever seen!”
“Alright fine, you win. Banette is my newest Pokémon after all, I’ve only had it for a few months.”
“Y’know, any trainer but yourself would say a few months was enough t’ completely bond with a Pokémon.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nolan replied as the fifth ball dropped into the basket, “a year at least, probably more. Anyway, I’m set here. See you around, Professor.”
“You’re one of a kind m’boy, one of kind. Keep out of trouble.” With that he signed off.
Until Nolan clipped the five new balls on to his belt, he had forgotten about the smashed one. To make matters worse, he currently had no money to buy a new ball for Flygon. “I guess we’re going to have to keep one out at all times. This is going to be a long few months….”
*****
NEXT: Tim challenges Misty!
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