- Joined
- Dec 16, 2018
- Messages
- 15
- Reaction score
- 2
Author's Note: This is the first time in a while I've tried to write fanfic, and my past attempts were not nearly as inspired. The universe I'm creating here is extremely idiosyncratic to me as a person, and therefore probably will come off as a little bizarre. My friend described it partially as "G-rated Parasyte (the anime)". Hopefully, you find it as interesting as I do.
Rating Information: This fic in general is rated Teen. It will contain depictions of psychological abuse/manipulation and neglect, severe mental illness, and will contain references to self-harm and suicide (not glamorized); individual chapters will be rated Mature if appropriate and all chapters will be tagged accordingly. Mild to moderate violence and strong language (excluding slurs) may be used. Substances might be involved in the future, will also be tagged accordingly.
A weary-eyed man was sitting on a teal chair in the waiting area. Beside him was a suitcase, still bearing its tags from his flight from the remote Holon region to Castelia City, Unova, to visit his son.
“That will have to stay here,” said a young woman behind a desk. “I’ll watch it for you.”
The man nodded. “Sure. When can I go in?”
“Dr. Howen should be here any minute—” she paused, and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, he’s here now.”
The door beside the desk swung open and a man with graying steel-blue hair stood in its entranceway. The weary-eyed man stood. “Dr. Quarters,” greeted Dr. Howen. “Haiku’s surgery went very well. Rotom is fully integrated.”
“I spoke to Haiku on the phone before my flight,” said Dr. Quarters. “How is his condition?”
“So far it’s hard to tell,” said Dr. Howen, gently. “We won’t know the results of the treatment for several months.”
Dr. Quarters nodded. “Can I bring this inside? It was his birthday last week.” He held up a small white box made of thin cardboard and opened it up to reveal a blue-hued cupcake decorated like a casteliacone. A tiny white candle was placed on the top.
“Yes, but no candle lighting. Here, come inside.”
They walked through a narrow corridor and through another door, which Dr. Howen unlocked with a badge hanging at his waist. Then they entered into a larger space, which had teal couches sitting upon white tile floors, arranged in a vague horseshoe pattern around a TV, which was placed high on the wall. The couches looked distinctly uncomfortable. There was an air of sterility.
On one of the couches sat a boy, recently turned eleven years old, with lime green spiky hair and thick glasses. His knees were drawn to his chest. They were covered with bandages arranged over cuts and scrapes. A blue patient wristband was attached to the boy’s wrist.
“Hey, Haiku!” said Dr. Quarters. “How are you feeling?”
“Hey dad,” replied Haiku somewhat glumly.
Dr. Quarters showed his son the white box. “I brought you a casteliacone cupcake! For your birthday!”
That was last week, thought Haiku, and he said nothing.
Inside Haiku’s brain, a tiny light flickered. Words entered into the boy’s mind forcefully, yet smoothly: Your dad came a long way to see you, didn’t he?
Quiet, Haiku thought back, his eyebrows converging slightly with the effort of projecting his thoughts back to the Rotom in his brain. It was like throwing a ball – too little force and it wouldn’t connect, too much and it would refract off the wall and hit him in the face. When he thought back too hard, it would create interference, a harsh static hiss in his thoughts.
Finally, Haiku replied, “Thanks.” Then he turned and eyed Dr. Howen, peering through his spectacles at the name badge, though he knew the doctor’s name. That badge was the key in and out. If only I had one. “Dr. Howen,” he said, “Are you from the Hoenn region?”
“Unfortunately not,” said Dr. Howen. “I’m from Kanto.”
Haiku frowned. “I want to go back to Holon.”
You’ll go back to Holon someday!
“Holon is a very dangerous region,” said Dr. Quarters, rubbing his eyes. “It’s mostly wild, and delta Pokémon are stronger than normal Pokémon. You’re not ready to go off on your own in Holon. You’ll do better here in Unova. I grew up here, you know. And your grandma and grandpa can take care of you while you recover. Then, you can get to know Pokémon.”
“I already know one,” Haiku grumbled.
We’ll be friends, and we’ll go on adventures!
“You’ll get to know another as soon as you’re ready to leave the hospital,” said Dr. Quarters, smiling as he knew the surprise that awaited his son.
Haiku’s green eyes flashed with curiosity behind his glasses. “You’re giving me a Pokémon? What kind? Is it a delta Pokémon?”
The father’s smile faltered for a moment. “It’s not a delta Pokémon, no,” he said. “But it’s your favorite type!”
Haiku frowned. He knew the Pokémon his father was referring to was a ghost type. But ever since they put Rotom in his head, he wasn’t sure he wanted ghost types to be his favorite anymore. I used to think Rotom were so cool. I even wanted one – at first.
You’ll get used to working together, Rotom replied, cheerfully.
“That Pokémon will be waiting for you at your grandparents’ house,” said Dr. Quarters. “They’ll come to the hospital and take you back to Accumula Town as soon as you’re ready to leave.”
“When will that be?”
Dr. Howen interjected. “It won’t be for a little while,” he said. “We have to make sure you and Rotom are safe together.”
Haiku sighed and silently sunk back into the teal couch, placing the casteliacone cupcake aside. He’d already been in the hospital for a month. He dreaded the thought of staying another.
Reversal Mountain’s reddish stone face was orange-pink in the sun’s setting glow. The young man (now 17 years old) stood at its base, facing an old house. The house was made of orange and gold tiles, arranged like small square bricks; yet, something about it seemed… old, and faded in the sun. Its wooden doors were tied shut with a tired length of rope. Haiku easily removed the rope and the doors creaked open, sunset cracking into the darkness within the house.
Something strange in here, thought Haiku. I feel it.
I feel it too, replied Rotom.
Haiku quickly scanned the ground for any items that may have been abandoned in the dark house, which was lit only by a small golden glow coming through the curtains over the windows. He wanted to get out of here as soon as he found what he was looking for.
There’s a Full Heal to your left, Rotom indicated, and a pulsing red arrow appeared superimposed on Haiku’s vision – leading his gaze to the location of a Full Heal stashed under a desk. He grabbed it.
Suddenly, he heard the heavy groan of moving furniture behind him. Haiku froze. Ghost Pokémon? He turned his head to look over his shoulder slowly, not making any sudden movements.
No Pokémon, said Rotom. But there is someone with us. I’m a ghost type, too!
Someone with us? Haiku questioned. He eyed a couch wobbling in the corner of the room as if supernatural energy were trying to move it.
Then, there was a young girl’s voice. “You,” she said. “You’re different than the others.”
“Me? How so?” Haiku’s hand instinctively retreated to his waist, where five Poké Balls were attached to his belt.
“You’re like… half and half,” the girl said. She slowly faded into view – a girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, with long brown hair and very dark circles under her eyes, floating a few inches above the ground. “Half human, half ghost. Who are you?”
“I’m Haiku. I’m fused with a Rotom who lives in a device in my brain.”
“It’s not just Rotom,” said the girl. “A part of you has become a ghost as well.”
Haiku frowned, running a hand through his lime green hair (while his other hand rested by his belt). He didn’t know what the ghost girl meant by that, exactly, but he felt there was a truth to that statement – a part of him that had existed before the surgery was no longer there, but existed just as traces of its once existence, like a ghost.
“There’s something I’m looking for,” he said. “An item you might have in the house somewhere. Have you seen a Dusk Stone lying around?”
The girl nodded, and a couch blocking a doorway moved aside to allow passage. Then the girl faded away.
Down there, thought Haiku as he descended the staircase into the dark room. He stopped and held out a Poké Ball, and without being commanded a white light burst forth from the Poké Ball and took the shape of a lantern, which materialized into a black lamp-like Pokémon with glowing yellow eyes visible within a purple flame. Lampent’s blueish glow illuminated the dark room.
Found it! said Rotom, displaying the red arrows that led Haiku’s gaze to a corner where a purple stone was waiting on the ground.
Haiku picked up the Dusk Stone, turned it over in his hand, and examined it by Lampent’s light: at its edges it was purple and slightly translucent, but the center of the stone was black and completely opaque, trapping all light – it was like gazing into a black hole in the form of a stone. Its surface was smooth, polished, cool to the touch.
The young man smiled. He’d been looking forward to this moment since the day he left on his Pokémon journey – on his 13th birthday, two years delayed – over five years ago. His first Pokémon, a Litwick, had been indispensable on his journey so far. Now he could bring out his Pokémon’s full potential.
Haiku looked to his Lampent. “Ready, Hito?”
Hito made a ghostly sound of approval, not unlike the sound of leaves rustling in the wind on an October night.
The trainer held up the Dusk Stone to Hito. As the object grew near, Hito started to glow with blue light; by the time the stone touched his body, the blue light had enveloped his form and his shape began to change, twisting and expanding like filling a mold with molten glass. Then, the glow began to dissipate as the glass-like energy cooled and solidified into its new shape.
Chandelure has been registered to your Pokédex, Rotom informed.
“How do you feel?” asked Haiku. “You’re finally a Chandelure.”
Hito spun around in a circle and made a sound not unlike a faint glass chime. It sounded proud.
Now, thought Haiku, I wonder what that girl meant by half ghost? I’m pretty sure I’m alive. He thought of projecting that thought so Rotom could hear it, but decided against it. Whatever was going on, he wanted to understand it on his own terms.
Rating Information: This fic in general is rated Teen. It will contain depictions of psychological abuse/manipulation and neglect, severe mental illness, and will contain references to self-harm and suicide (not glamorized); individual chapters will be rated Mature if appropriate and all chapters will be tagged accordingly. Mild to moderate violence and strong language (excluding slurs) may be used. Substances might be involved in the future, will also be tagged accordingly.
1. Casteliacone
A weary-eyed man was sitting on a teal chair in the waiting area. Beside him was a suitcase, still bearing its tags from his flight from the remote Holon region to Castelia City, Unova, to visit his son.
“That will have to stay here,” said a young woman behind a desk. “I’ll watch it for you.”
The man nodded. “Sure. When can I go in?”
“Dr. Howen should be here any minute—” she paused, and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, he’s here now.”
The door beside the desk swung open and a man with graying steel-blue hair stood in its entranceway. The weary-eyed man stood. “Dr. Quarters,” greeted Dr. Howen. “Haiku’s surgery went very well. Rotom is fully integrated.”
“I spoke to Haiku on the phone before my flight,” said Dr. Quarters. “How is his condition?”
“So far it’s hard to tell,” said Dr. Howen, gently. “We won’t know the results of the treatment for several months.”
Dr. Quarters nodded. “Can I bring this inside? It was his birthday last week.” He held up a small white box made of thin cardboard and opened it up to reveal a blue-hued cupcake decorated like a casteliacone. A tiny white candle was placed on the top.
“Yes, but no candle lighting. Here, come inside.”
They walked through a narrow corridor and through another door, which Dr. Howen unlocked with a badge hanging at his waist. Then they entered into a larger space, which had teal couches sitting upon white tile floors, arranged in a vague horseshoe pattern around a TV, which was placed high on the wall. The couches looked distinctly uncomfortable. There was an air of sterility.
On one of the couches sat a boy, recently turned eleven years old, with lime green spiky hair and thick glasses. His knees were drawn to his chest. They were covered with bandages arranged over cuts and scrapes. A blue patient wristband was attached to the boy’s wrist.
“Hey, Haiku!” said Dr. Quarters. “How are you feeling?”
“Hey dad,” replied Haiku somewhat glumly.
Dr. Quarters showed his son the white box. “I brought you a casteliacone cupcake! For your birthday!”
That was last week, thought Haiku, and he said nothing.
Inside Haiku’s brain, a tiny light flickered. Words entered into the boy’s mind forcefully, yet smoothly: Your dad came a long way to see you, didn’t he?
Quiet, Haiku thought back, his eyebrows converging slightly with the effort of projecting his thoughts back to the Rotom in his brain. It was like throwing a ball – too little force and it wouldn’t connect, too much and it would refract off the wall and hit him in the face. When he thought back too hard, it would create interference, a harsh static hiss in his thoughts.
Finally, Haiku replied, “Thanks.” Then he turned and eyed Dr. Howen, peering through his spectacles at the name badge, though he knew the doctor’s name. That badge was the key in and out. If only I had one. “Dr. Howen,” he said, “Are you from the Hoenn region?”
“Unfortunately not,” said Dr. Howen. “I’m from Kanto.”
Haiku frowned. “I want to go back to Holon.”
You’ll go back to Holon someday!
“Holon is a very dangerous region,” said Dr. Quarters, rubbing his eyes. “It’s mostly wild, and delta Pokémon are stronger than normal Pokémon. You’re not ready to go off on your own in Holon. You’ll do better here in Unova. I grew up here, you know. And your grandma and grandpa can take care of you while you recover. Then, you can get to know Pokémon.”
“I already know one,” Haiku grumbled.
We’ll be friends, and we’ll go on adventures!
“You’ll get to know another as soon as you’re ready to leave the hospital,” said Dr. Quarters, smiling as he knew the surprise that awaited his son.
Haiku’s green eyes flashed with curiosity behind his glasses. “You’re giving me a Pokémon? What kind? Is it a delta Pokémon?”
The father’s smile faltered for a moment. “It’s not a delta Pokémon, no,” he said. “But it’s your favorite type!”
Haiku frowned. He knew the Pokémon his father was referring to was a ghost type. But ever since they put Rotom in his head, he wasn’t sure he wanted ghost types to be his favorite anymore. I used to think Rotom were so cool. I even wanted one – at first.
You’ll get used to working together, Rotom replied, cheerfully.
“That Pokémon will be waiting for you at your grandparents’ house,” said Dr. Quarters. “They’ll come to the hospital and take you back to Accumula Town as soon as you’re ready to leave.”
“When will that be?”
Dr. Howen interjected. “It won’t be for a little while,” he said. “We have to make sure you and Rotom are safe together.”
Haiku sighed and silently sunk back into the teal couch, placing the casteliacone cupcake aside. He’d already been in the hospital for a month. He dreaded the thought of staying another.
2. Strange House
Reversal Mountain’s reddish stone face was orange-pink in the sun’s setting glow. The young man (now 17 years old) stood at its base, facing an old house. The house was made of orange and gold tiles, arranged like small square bricks; yet, something about it seemed… old, and faded in the sun. Its wooden doors were tied shut with a tired length of rope. Haiku easily removed the rope and the doors creaked open, sunset cracking into the darkness within the house.
Something strange in here, thought Haiku. I feel it.
I feel it too, replied Rotom.
Haiku quickly scanned the ground for any items that may have been abandoned in the dark house, which was lit only by a small golden glow coming through the curtains over the windows. He wanted to get out of here as soon as he found what he was looking for.
There’s a Full Heal to your left, Rotom indicated, and a pulsing red arrow appeared superimposed on Haiku’s vision – leading his gaze to the location of a Full Heal stashed under a desk. He grabbed it.
Suddenly, he heard the heavy groan of moving furniture behind him. Haiku froze. Ghost Pokémon? He turned his head to look over his shoulder slowly, not making any sudden movements.
No Pokémon, said Rotom. But there is someone with us. I’m a ghost type, too!
Someone with us? Haiku questioned. He eyed a couch wobbling in the corner of the room as if supernatural energy were trying to move it.
Then, there was a young girl’s voice. “You,” she said. “You’re different than the others.”
“Me? How so?” Haiku’s hand instinctively retreated to his waist, where five Poké Balls were attached to his belt.
“You’re like… half and half,” the girl said. She slowly faded into view – a girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, with long brown hair and very dark circles under her eyes, floating a few inches above the ground. “Half human, half ghost. Who are you?”
“I’m Haiku. I’m fused with a Rotom who lives in a device in my brain.”
“It’s not just Rotom,” said the girl. “A part of you has become a ghost as well.”
Haiku frowned, running a hand through his lime green hair (while his other hand rested by his belt). He didn’t know what the ghost girl meant by that, exactly, but he felt there was a truth to that statement – a part of him that had existed before the surgery was no longer there, but existed just as traces of its once existence, like a ghost.
“There’s something I’m looking for,” he said. “An item you might have in the house somewhere. Have you seen a Dusk Stone lying around?”
The girl nodded, and a couch blocking a doorway moved aside to allow passage. Then the girl faded away.
Down there, thought Haiku as he descended the staircase into the dark room. He stopped and held out a Poké Ball, and without being commanded a white light burst forth from the Poké Ball and took the shape of a lantern, which materialized into a black lamp-like Pokémon with glowing yellow eyes visible within a purple flame. Lampent’s blueish glow illuminated the dark room.
Found it! said Rotom, displaying the red arrows that led Haiku’s gaze to a corner where a purple stone was waiting on the ground.
Haiku picked up the Dusk Stone, turned it over in his hand, and examined it by Lampent’s light: at its edges it was purple and slightly translucent, but the center of the stone was black and completely opaque, trapping all light – it was like gazing into a black hole in the form of a stone. Its surface was smooth, polished, cool to the touch.
The young man smiled. He’d been looking forward to this moment since the day he left on his Pokémon journey – on his 13th birthday, two years delayed – over five years ago. His first Pokémon, a Litwick, had been indispensable on his journey so far. Now he could bring out his Pokémon’s full potential.
Haiku looked to his Lampent. “Ready, Hito?”
Hito made a ghostly sound of approval, not unlike the sound of leaves rustling in the wind on an October night.
The trainer held up the Dusk Stone to Hito. As the object grew near, Hito started to glow with blue light; by the time the stone touched his body, the blue light had enveloped his form and his shape began to change, twisting and expanding like filling a mold with molten glass. Then, the glow began to dissipate as the glass-like energy cooled and solidified into its new shape.
Chandelure has been registered to your Pokédex, Rotom informed.
“How do you feel?” asked Haiku. “You’re finally a Chandelure.”
Hito spun around in a circle and made a sound not unlike a faint glass chime. It sounded proud.
Now, thought Haiku, I wonder what that girl meant by half ghost? I’m pretty sure I’m alive. He thought of projecting that thought so Rotom could hear it, but decided against it. Whatever was going on, he wanted to understand it on his own terms.