EVERYONE: Raindrops

[UselessBytes]

Raindrops tells the story of Marcus, a man who is unsure of his place in the world that is slowly dying around him. He wanders the Hoenn Region amidst endless rain, searching for answers to give himself purpose and helping people along the way, trying to fill the voids he sees in the world around him. This story is a strange one, as it does not focus on the plot so much as it does the characters, and how they grow and develop. It is episodic in nature, and therefore it is not necessary to read the whole story to appreciate its value and the messages it brings. However, I only hope you enjoy this strange story enough to stick with it to the end.

-UselessBytes



CONTENTS
Session 1 - Wanderer
Session 2 - Victim
Session 3 - Dreamer

I, unfortunately, have been burdened with the great task of recording my research for mankind to one day study, in hopes that it may help them understand the dire situation we, humanity, had placed ourselves in. Perhaps, along the way, those who read my work will also come to understand the man who unknowingly freed us from our self made doom.

Session 1

Wanderer​

Alan frowned as he looked at the hole in the roof of the small building he called home, watching the ever present rain splash against the shingles and slip into the hole, slowly filling his abode with water.

Alan pulled his jacket tighter, fending off the wet chill of the rain. He glanced over at the pile of damp lumber that sat behind his home, ready to be used in case of an emergency like the one he currently was facing. He removed his wrinkled hands from his jacket pockets, sighing, and headed over to the pile. He bent down and took hold of a piece, struggling to lift it.
He tried for several minutes to hoist the large beam onto his shoulder before admitting defeat and slipped down onto his knees. He stared numbly at the pile of lumber that had so easily bested him and cursed his growing age and waning strength. Perhaps, he thought, he could still salvage some valuables from his home before it was completely flooded, and make his way towards Mauville. Maybe he could find shelter there.

Sighing as he gave in, Alan pulled himself off of the ground. He had been a fool to think he could survive alone in his old age. He should have abandoned the dilapidated house years ago, and now he was paying for it. He turned to the door, and resigned himself to search for anything he’d need to make his way to Mauville.

“Hello there! You look like you could use some help.”

Alan turned around with a start, catching sight of a man some distance away. He peered through the rain, trying to make out the man’s features. He wore a simple white rain jacket, and a damp pair of blue jeans.

As the man drew closer, Alan could start to make out his features. His skin was pale, as was most everyone’s, due to the never ending cloud cover. His face was warm and friendly, despite the strings of dark, wet hair that hung in front of the man’s face. On his shoulder sat a Pokémon that Alan didn’t quite recognize. It was small and slug-like in nature, and its glistening skin was a soft blue, the same color as the rain itself.

The man walked up to him, his eyes scanning the scene behind Alan. He frowned. “That’s quite the hole,” the man said. “I do hope you intend to fix it.”

Alan paused for a moment, and then shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve gotten too weak in my old age to do much about it.” He sighed. “I was a fool to try and live out here alone much longer. I suppose this is ol’ mother nature’s way of tellin’ me it’s time to move on.”

The man frowned again. “Well, that’s no good. I take it you grew up here, in this house?”

Alan nodded. He’d lived in the building all his life.

The man took another long look at the hole in the roof. “I’d say you’re wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

The man’s frown turned into a smile. “You’ve called this place home for so long. What right does anyone or anything have to take that away from you? No right, I’d say.” The man plucked the slug-like Pokémon, which so far had merely been observing, and placed it at his feet. “Now, try and stay out of the way, Shellos. I don’t want you getting hurt.” The Pokémon, Shellos, let out a happy squeak, and slithered off towards a puddle, in which it began to splash around and play.

The man’s smile widened. “There’s a simple joy in the way Pokémon behave, don’t you think?”

Alan shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never owned one.”

“I see. I don’t believe I ever have either.”

Alan paused, confused. Didn’t own any Pokémon? The man clearly did, the small one he’d called Shellos was proof of that.

The man chuckled at Alan’s reaction. “I get that look a lot, I’m afraid. Shellos isn’t mine. In fact, he’s never been in a Pokéball. He just seems to like me enough to stick around. Should he choose to, he could just leave, and I’d have no right to stop him. By the way, I never caught your name.”

Alan jumped at the chance to steer away from the man’s strange philosophy. “The name’s Alan.”

“Alan. A nice name. Mine’s Marcus.”

“Well, nice to meet ya, Marcus.” Alan stuck out his hand to shake and Marcus took it.

“Well, now that we’re introduced, what do you say we get to work, Alan?”

Alan once again paused. “Pardon?”

Marcus gestured to hole in Alan’s roof. “I did say you looked like you could use some help didn’t you?”

Alan was stunned. “You’re tellin’ me you’re gonna try and patch up that hole?” he asked.

Marcus nodded. “More or less. I could use your help, if you’re willing.”

Alan quickly nodded. “I gotta say, I’ve never met a stranger so eager to help someone else.”
Marcus sighed. “Most people aren’t so helpful, I’ll admit. It makes me sad. Selfish people make for a dreary world, and I daresay this rain makes the world dreary enough.” He bent down and hoisted a beam of wood onto his shoulder. “Now Alan, you wouldn’t happen to have a ladder, would you?”

* * *​

Alan grunted as he and Marcus lifted the last of the wooden beams into place and nailed it down, sealing off the once-gaping hole in Alan’s roof. Alan took a step back from their work, admiring it. “I’d say it’ll hold pretty well, at least until I can get a professional out here to fix it up for good. I can’t thank you enough, Marcus.”

Marcus smiled, putting down the hammer he’d been holding. “It was nothing. I was happy to help.”

Alan sighed. “At least I don’t have to abandon this old place, now. It means so much to me, and I almost let it all go. Thanks for talkin’ some sense into me. Now I won’t have to move into Mauville.”

Marcus perked up upon hearing the words. “Mauville? Is it near here?”

Alan nodded. “It’s a half day’s walk north. You can’t miss it. That where you’re headed?”

“Yes. I won’t be staying for long, though. I’ll just be passing through,” Marcus said, staring in the city’s direction.

“Well,” Alan said, “if you don’t mind me askin’, where are you gonna end up?”

Marcus paused for a moment. “I’m not sure. I’m just wandering, for the time being. Walking the Earth, one might say.”

Alan frowned. “Well, I won’t say it’s not strange. How do you make a livin’, if all you do is wander?”

Marcus shrugged. “Odd jobs, mostly. It’s not hard to sustain yourself when Pokémon Centers offer free lodging, after all.”

“I guess I didn’t consider that. Though, it’s gettin’ a little late. You probably won’t make it to Mauville before the day is out, I’d guess. You’re welcome to stay the night here, if you’d like.”

Marcus smiled. “I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you, Alan. It’ll be nice to have shelter from the rains for the night.” Marcus looked up at the sky. He reached up and pulled down the hood of his jacket, letting the rain soak into his hair. Alan chuckled. This Marcus sure was one strange man.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop, Alan?”

“Huh?”

“The rains,” Marcus explained. “They’ve always been here, right? Never stopping? Surely they have to stop sometime.”

Alan shook his head. “I doubt it. I’ve never seen ‘em stop, all sixty eight years of my life. Rain, day in and day out. That’s just the way the world is, I guess.”

Marcus sighed. “That’s horribly bleak. I’d like to imagine the world has something more to it than endless rain. Something more than a constant fight for survival. Surely the world has something to look forward to other than endlessly drowning.”

“Y’know, Marcus, I don’t think I’ve met anyone who asks as many questions as you seem to.”

Marcus smiled again. “I get that a lot. Now, let’s get off this roof and out of the rain.”

* * *​

Alan poured out a second mug of coffee and placed it on the table in front of Marcus, who took it and drank eagerly.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything for that little one,” Alan said, gesturing to Shellos, who was happily squirming around under the chair that Marcus sat in.

Marcus shrugged. “It’s okay. Shellos is tougher than he looks. He can go for a couple more hours without anything.” Shellos let out a squeak, as if to affirm Marcus’s statement. “I won’t stay for long, though. I’ll be heading out as soon as it’s light out.”

Alan chuckled. “That’s a shame. I’ve got a ton of other housework you could’ve done.”

Marcus laughed as well. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. I can’t stay in one place for too long. I might get too comfortable and give up traveling altogether!”

Alan let out a hearty laugh. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Marcus shook his head. “No, no we wouldn’t, friend.”

“Friend, eh? Good to know someone I’ve barely met considers me a friend. I don’t have many of those left nowadays.”

“Everyone’s friends, deep down,” Marcus commented. “At least, that’s what I think. I find that if you look hard enough, there’s something to admire and treasure in everyone.”

“I sure will miss your little philosophy lessons, Marcus.”

Marcus smiled. “Really? I’ve been told they’re exhausting more times than I can count.”

“Hey now, I never said they weren’t.”

The two men laughed, and continued to chat as Marcus stared out the window into the ever familiar rain. He watched as it splashed against the ground, against the window panes, against the leaves in the trees, and against the whole world around him.

As the whole world drowned, Marcus did his best to stay afloat, picking up stragglers like Shellos along the way. Yes, the whole world drowned, but Marcus refused to let it.

“Do you know why I help people, Alan?” he asked.

“Can’t say I do.”
“Because this world is drowning. Not just in the rain, but in it’s own misery and selfishness. People only look out for themselves these days. There’s not much I can do to change that, but if I can help just a few people, I feel like I’ve made some progress in the right direction. It’s a hopeless struggle, but I keep it up. It’s what keeps me going.”

“You know, Marcus, the world could use some more people like you. If I were thirty years younger, I might’ve just joined you on your little journey.”
“I appreciate the thought, Alan. It’s good to know someone cares.”

Alan looked up at the patched hole above his head. “I’m sure there are others that do, Marcus. If I’ve learned anything in my life about people, it’s that there’s all types of ‘em out there. You’re proof of that I’d say. It’s just a matter of finding them.”

“A matter of finding them…” Marcus muttered, fidgeting with the mug in his hands. “Maybe I’ll end up finding some of them.”
“Maybe you will,” Alan said. “Say, Marcus, how long have you been travelin’?”

Marcus paused for a moment to think. “Almost a year now, I think. I’m not certain, though. It’s hard to keep track of the days.”

Alan whistled. “That sure is a long time to be traveling. Where’d you start from?”

“Fallarbor. I lived there with my father, before he passed. I started this journey shortly after he died.”

“I see. Well, if you ever come back this way again, feel free to drop by,” Alan offered.

“I’ll take you up on that, for sure. Nothing beats catching up with old friends after a long while.”

Alan nodded in agreement. “I’ll agree with you on that one. Best of luck on your journey, Marcus.”

“Best of luck, indeed.”

 

[Beth Pavell]

I'm going to ignore the worldbuilding questions the premise poses. They are - or will be - important to answer if they end up impacting the plot, but for the time being it's not really something that needs to be picked apart. Getting some of the first points out the way, the prose works fine and I didn't notice any technical issues. I wouldn't bother with the adjective "simple" in most clothing descriptions - I'd don't know how that cliché got started, but in almost every case it's either redundant or doesn't add much.

Marcus' dialogue is very on the nose. Sentences like this:

Most people aren’t so helpful, I’ll admit. It makes me sad. Selfish people make for a dreary world

I don't think I've ever come across someone saying in real life. Online, certainly, in posts along the lines of "Mean people suck!". I can't imagine an adult saying something like that (As I get the impression Marcus is supposed to be). Charitable adults tend to just shrug and say it's nothing. It's possible this may be more of a British trait than an adult trait, I suppose.

In any case, this:

“Really? I’ve been told they’re exhausting more times than I can count.”

Comes across as very self-aware from you, the author, because they are in the short space of this chapter. Frankly they're a bit sanctimonious. I can't help but think these ... philosophies could be better shown by Marcus' actions rather than told directly to Alan. It also has the problem of directly spelling out your drowning metaphor, which is a shame, because it's a good one. Too good really, to put smack in the foreground.

 

[UselessBytes]

WARNING: This chapter talks a bit about drug abuse. It doesn’t go in depth or anything, but it’s a topic discussed nonetheless.


As best as I can figure, the rains started ages ago, long before anyone around today was born. Perhaps it has been centuries, even. How the world did not simply drown, I have yet to figure out, and I have come to accept that I probably never will. What I do know, however, is why the rains started.

Session 2

Victim​

As usual, the roof of Mauville Complex B was near empty. The rain soaked concrete paths that crisscrossed the roof of the massive building were slick and wet, traveled only by those who didn’t wish to be seen, and those who wished to dirty their hands. It was a place for unspoken deals.

Melody, however, had nothing to do with any of that. She was one of the few regular visitors to the roof of the Mauville complex, but also one of its most innocent. Never before had she taken part in the shady dealings that went on in the pouring rain. She came up to the roof for a different reason. She came up to the roof to hide.

However, her hiding space seemed to have finally failed her.

“There you are. Whatcha got for me today?” said a brutish boy. His face was young, but twisted into a cruel sneer that would scare most adults.

“Go away,” Melody mumbled, pulling the hood of her jacket further over her, as if she was attempting to disappear into it, and turned away from him, dangling her legs over the complex wall.

The boy lashed out and ripped the hood off of Melody’s head, exposing her brilliant red hair to the rain. She let out a yelp as she did so, drawing the attention of the few people on the roof alongside them. Sadly, no one moved to intervene, and instead went about their business as if they’d never witnessed the event.

“I’ve had a pretty frustrating day, so I’m impatient at the moment. I said, whatcha got for me? Let’s see some cash, loser.” The boy held out his hand expectantly.

Melody was silent for a moment, and then reluctantly pulled a wad of bills from her pocket and put them in the bully’s hands, still facing away from him. She didn’t want anyone to see her crying, even if the rain did hide it.

The boy frowned, counting the bills. “Only fifty Poké? You call that cash?” the boy scoffed. “You know, you shouldn’t sit so close to the edge of the roof. It’d be a real shame if you just happened to… fall,” the boy said, his voice full of fake concern. He kicked at Melody’s back, making her yelp again and clutch at the roof’s ledge. He laughed at her fit of panic, and then turned away, heading towards the stairwell that led back into the top level of the complex. “Bring more next time, or you’re in big trouble.”

Melody choked back sobs as he walked away, trying not to make any noise. It was common courtesy on the roof to keep any opinions or emotions to yourself.

“Well, that certainly was a nasty encounter.”

Melody jumped, scrambling to her feet to face the stranger who’d snuck up behind her. The man who’d spoken smiled at her, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes.
“You seem like you could use some help, miss,” Marcus said. “Isn’t that right, Shellos?” Marcus asked. The sluglike Pokémon on his shoulder agreed with a knowing squeak.

Melody quickly yanked the hood of her rain jacket up and backed away slowly, before turning and sprinting away, her boots slapping against the wet concrete.

Marcus’s smile drooped into a frown. “Well, I guess she’s a little shy. She definitely does seem to have a problem, though.” He glanced over at Shellos, who nodded vigorously. Marcus looked up at the dark, cloudy sky. “It’s getting late. I’ll look for her tomorrow.”

* * *​

The shrill sound of a school bell pierced the air, and a dozen teenagers shuffled towards the door. One girl, however, stayed at her desk, flipping through the pages of notes in front of her. The teacher looked up from his desk and frowned.
“The bell rung, Melody. You should be getting home,” The teacher said.

Melody looked up from her notes. “Sorry, Mr. Becker. I’m just worried about the test tomorrow.” She picked up her notebook and slipped it into her battered bookbag, heading for the door. “Have a nice day, sir.”
“You too, Melody. Don’t worry about the test, you’ll do fine. You’re one of the best students in class,” Mr. Becker said, waving away her doubt.

Melody smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Becker.” She ducked out the door, hoisting her bookbag onto her shoulder. She wove through the crowd of students and pushed through a door labeled “C-D Transit”. Melody stepped out into the rain, pulling her hood up and letting the door close behind her. She took a deep breath of the rainy air as she strolled through the open courtyard towards a set of doors labeled “Complex D”. The building they led into was smaller than the rest of the massive complexes that made up Mauville, and it was dirtier too. The other complexes were kept clean and freshly painted; Complex D was covered in chipped paint and sodden moss. Most people liked to forget that Complex D even existed.

Melody pushed through the doors and into the familiar dim halls she called home. The rest of Mauville was clean and polished, with tile floors, and beautifully painted murals covering most of the walls. In Complex D, the walls were plain and unpainted, and the floors were hard concrete. Everything was utilitarian to a fault.

Melody made her way through the cramped halls, passing by all manner of junkies, beggars, and homeless. For most, Complex D was the only shelter they had from the rain. They weren’t allowed into the other three complexes.

Melody came across a door bearing a hand painted sign that read “Carter”, her family name. She pushed the thin wooden door open, stepping into her home and removing her shoes. “Dad, I’m home-” She froze as she looked up. Sitting across from her father in the cramped main room was the same man she’d seen on the roof the day before, his Pokémon sleeping on his lap. Oh crap, she thought. How did he find me? Did he tell dad about what he saw?

“Ah, good. You’re home. This man is renting your brother’s room for the night.” He turned back to the man. “Marcus, this is my daughter, Melody.”

Marcus smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Melody. I hope you’re okay with me staying here.”

Melody was silent for a moment. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she said. Did Marcus not tell her father about the scene on the roof, or was he waiting until Marcus was gone to lay into her? She tossed her bookbag onto a small table by the door, and excused herself to her room before she could find out the answer.

“That’s strange,” Melody’s father said. “She’s not normally that shy.”

* * *​

Melody sat in the threadbare chair in the corner of her room, hugging her knees. This was bad. Her father was too honest for his own good. If he found out about her situation with Victor, he’d insist she go to the authorities, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. If the Mauville Police knew you were hiding something, they wouldn’t stop until they found out.

A knock came at her door. “It’s Marcus,” a voice said, muffled by the door.

Melody rolled her eyes. ”Go away.”

Melody heard him sigh through the door. Maybe I should at least talk to him, make sure he doesn’t tell my dad, she thought. “Alright, come in.”

The door creaked open, and Marcus came in, his Shellos now awake and sitting on his shoulder as usual. “I noticed you were pretty shocked to see me. If I’m honest, I was pretty surprised too. I had no idea that I was renting a room from your father.”

Melody let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. So he probably hadn’t told her father yet.

“But, I am still curious what you were up to,” Marcus continued.

Melody snorted. “Yeah, like I’m gonna tell you. Anyone who knows is another risk it’ll spread.”

Marcus shrugged. “Probably not me, actually. I’m leaving town tomorrow, and probably won’t be back for a good while.”

“Lucky you. I’m stuck in this dumpster for life,” Melody huffed.

“Dumpster?”

Melody rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dumpster. In case you didn’t notice, Complex D isn’t all that nice.”

Marcus shrugged again. “I’ve stayed in worse. Tell me more about Complex D, though. What’s up with this place? Why do you hate it so much?”

Melody groaned. “Man, you’re clueless. Look, you’ve seen the other complexes, right? It’s pretty clear.”

“No, actually. I saw the entrance of Complex C, but someone pointed me here for cheap housing. I haven’t seen much outside of Complex D.”
Melody paused. Marcus clearly wasn’t very observant, at least in her opinion. How could someone not see the differences? “Well, it’s a pretty stark contrast. Complexes A, B, and C are all really nice. Clean, decorated, underpopulated, all the desirable stuff. A is where all the tourists go. It’s got the hotels, the casinos, the shops, all the tourist trap stuff. B and C are general residence, where all the citizens live and where the grocery stores and schools and all that stuff is.”

“And Complex D?” Marcus asked.

“Complex D is where everything else is. It’s cheap housing because they don’t bother to keep the place running. If you can’t afford a house in B or C, you end up in D. It’s full of overworked, underpaid people just struggling to survive, like my dad. And once you’re in, it’s hard to get out. Living in Complex D makes getting better jobs tougher, just because anyone who’s hiring sees you as a deadbeat, who probably does drugs in some back alley.”

Marcus nodded. “I see. So, I take it Complex D has something to do with the situation on the roof the other day?”

“What? No! That’s my business, stay out.”

“So there is a connection,” Marcus mused.

Melody sighed. This guy clearly didn’t plan on letting up. “Alright, I’ll tell you what’s going on, but only if you promise to keep it a secret.”
“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Marcus agreed. “Shellos won’t either.” Shellos squeaked proudly, affirming Marcus’s promise.

“Alright, the guy’s name is Victor. He’s a bully and a thug. I pick pockets for him over in Complex A. I meet up with him on the weekends to give him what I stole. Most of the time, it isn’t enough for him and he threatens me.”
“Sounds like a textbook bully,” Marcus noted. “Why don’t you just refuse?”

“It’s... complicated.”

“I’m sure it’s simpler than it sounds in your head,” Marcus assured.

Melody shook her head. “It’s not like that. It’s something I’d rather not share.”

Marcus nodding knowingly. “That’s alright. I understand. Although, I’m afraid I can’t really help you if I don’t know the whole situation. I wish you the best of luck with your bully situation. You’d probably be better off if you talked to your father about it, by the way. He’s a very understanding man, from what I’ve gathered.” He turned towards the door, gripping the handle and opening it to leave.

“Drugs.”
Marcus paused, waiting for her to continue.

“I had a drug problem a year or two back. One of the kids in my class got ahold of a crate of morphine. I don’t know how, but I was in a bad place at the time and I jumped at the chance to distract myself. Naturally, I got hooked. Started picking pockets to fuel my addiction. Luckily I was able to kick it once my father found out.”

Marcus sat down on the floor in front of her. “I see. So, how does this relate back to Victor?”

Melody sighed. “Victor doesn’t live in Complex D, but he’s here often enough. He sells weed here occasionally, and I guess through that he figured out about my old addiction, as well as my, um, affinity for picking pockets.

“So, he started using that knowledge to get me to pick pockets for him. It started up about two months ago, maybe a little longer,” she finished.

Marcus frowned. “I could see how that would work if you were still addicted, but why does it matter now? You said you’d kicked the habit.”

Melody shook her head. “It’s still a big problem. The Mauville Police are super strict when it comes to drug abuse. If you’re caught using, or even with a history of using, you’ll find yourself with court ordered therapy and a work ban for at least six months, and I can’t afford either of those, especially the therapy. My dad is already dirt poor, and a therapist would bankrupt him. Not to mention the work ban, which would ruin my plans of getting a job to help my dad out.”

“So Victor hangs the threat of telling the authorities about your past drug problem over your head to get you to pick pockets. That certainly is troublesome,” Marcus mused.

“Now you see why I just put up with him.”

“I most certainly do,” Marcus affirmed, “but I still think you can stand up to this Victor without fearing retribution.”

Melody scoffed. “Victor isn’t one to make idle threats. He isn’t bluffing.”

Marcus shrugged. “I never said he was. There are other ways, though. Tell, me, does he have a history with the Mauville Police?”

Melody nodded.

“Good,” Marcus said. “That already makes them less likely to believe him. Is there anyone else that would side with him?”
“Not likely. He’s a scumbag and a cheat. Most of the people in Complex D wouldn’t hesitate to wash their hands of him,” Melody explained.

Marcus stood up. “Well, then there’s a good chance that the police wouldn’t seriously pursue the claim. You already possess some sort of security in this matter.”

“So I’m supposed to tell Victor to shove it and hope the police don’t take him seriously? Sure, that’s an excellent plan,” Melody said sarcastically. “That’s not a risk I’m gonna take.”

“I figured you’d say that. It’s not the only option,” Marcus said. “There’s more than one way out of every problem. You just have to be patient.”

Melody groaned. “Fine, I’ll indulge you and your rambling. What’s your plan?”

“There is no plan. Just tell him you won’t pick pockets for him anymore. Tell him you don’t want to jeopardize your father’s situation any more than you already have in the past.”

Melody snorted. “And you think he’ll just shut up and go away?”

“No,” Marcus said, “I think he’ll understand. If you really open up to him, that is. Everyone has a reason for what they do, and I have a feeling that maybe his isn’t so different from yours.”

“You really think he’s not just a back-alley street rat?”
Marcus smiled and looked down at Shellos, who had started napping in his lap. “I don’t think anyone is all bad. Deep down, everyone has a good intention, no matter how twisted their actions. It’s just a matter of uncovering them.”

“I guess it’s a nice enough idea. I’m still not convinced that Victor’s a good person, though.”
Marcus prodded Shellos, waking the small Pokémon and lifting it onto his shoulder. “He may not be at the moment, but perhaps you could be the one to help him along that path.” Marcus turned to the door and pulled it open. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, so I probably won’t see you again. Think about it, at the very least.” Marcus pulled the door shut behind him as the still groggy Shellos gave a tired squeak goodbye.

Melody groaned and buried her face in her hands. Just what was this guy talking about? No one like Victor could be a good person, or at least not without therapy and a whole lot of time.

Yet, she found Marcus’s ideas comforting. The idea that everyone had a little good in them deep down gave her a bit of hope, albeit fleeting, that she and her father could hold on long enough to make it out of Complex D.

“Maybe he’s got a point,” Melody told herself, staring at the floor.

* * *​

Melody took a deep breath, wiping the rain off of her face and fidgeting with her hood as she waited. She glanced over at the older man smoking a few yards away, but he was absorbed in his own task, paying her no mind.

After what seemed like an eternity standing out in the rain, the door to the roof stairwell creaked open and a familiar face dressed in a thick letterman slipped out, his face marred by a grumpy sneer. He walked over to Melody.

Melody took another deep breath. She’d been preparing herself mentally for nearly a week for this encounter. Marcus’s words still rang clearly in her head.

“So you decided not to hide for once, eh?” Victor asked. “That’s nice, I suppose. Makes it a lot easier on me. Now, where’s the money?”

Melody paused, steeling herself. “I don’t have it.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I don’t have it. I didn’t steal any this week,” Melody repeated.

Victor frowned, but he didn’t look surprised. He opened his mouth to speak, but Melody cut him off.

“Why do you do this, Victor?”

Victor paused for a moment, puzzled. “What, you mean take cash outta your hands? ‘Cause I like having more money and you’ve got a convenient weakness. Now, cough up. I know you’ve got something, at least a few Poké.”

Melody shook her head. “I don’t have anything, and I don’t believe you.”

Victor rolled his eyes in frustration. “Don’t believe me? Legends above, you’re dense. I said, I like money and you’re easy to extort. It’s as simple as that.”

“No, it’s not!” Melody said, raising her voice. The man smoking looked up at the sudden outburst, but dismissed it.

Victor was taken aback, but quickly recovered his composure. “I’m telling you, that’s the truth. Now let’s see some cash, loser.”

Melody shook her head again. “Tell me Victor. What do you need all this money for? I know it’s not just spending money. I can tell.”

Victor grit his teeth. “You’re really starting to piss me off, loser.”
“I don’t care. I’m not letting up until you tell me what’s really going on.”

Victor opened his mouth, ready to yell, but paused, calming himself down. This girl was hitting deeper than he’d expected her to. What happened to the timid kid he’d bullied into giving up money before?

“Y’know what?” he said, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth. Have been for a while. Get lost. I’ll find someone else to mess with.”

“And you won’t tell the Mauville Police about me?”

Victor thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “Nah. I’ll hold that over you another time.” He opened the door to the stairwell and disappeared inside, letting it swing shut behind him.

Melody let out a sigh of relief. She remembered what Marcus had told her the morning he’d left.

“Bullies like him are pretty common. They’re ashamed of their weaknesses, so they use force and intimidation to get what they need without anyone else knowing. Put up some resistance and push them to open up, and they’ll usually back down.”

He’d been right. She hadn’t quite figured out what Victor had been struggling with, but she’d confirmed that he was struggling with something, and had gotten him off her back, to boot. That was good enough for her.

The older man who’d been smoking laughed and flicked away his cigarette, making Melody jump. “You wanna know something, young lady?” Melody remained silent, but the man continued anyway. “I’ve come up here to smoke away from my wife for almost fifteen years now. I come up here and watch my surroundings, and listen to everyone. Most of the time it’s nothing special, and they’re something new every time. But not you. You were a constant. Every week, for the past six months, you and that boy have gone through the same routine, until today, where all of a sudden you had the courage to stand up to him. I hate to pry, but what on earth changed so drastically?”

Melody blushed. “I had some good advice.”

The man laughed again. “Must’ve been some advice, young lady. Maybe I’ll meet someone that wise one day. Maybe they’ll change my life like they did your’s.”

Melody nodded, and the made her way to the same stairs that Victor had left through. The man pulled another cigarette from his pocket as she left, and shielded his lighter from the rain as he lit it. He took a puff and blew out a cloud of smoke, chuckling. “Some advice indeed.”

 

[Beth Pavell]

Couple of things to note before I start off. First the idea of the roof of Mauville as a kind of recidivist hangout was a good one. There's something kind of noir about it, and it makes a degree of sense given that this version of Mauville is rather like a very big apartment complex.

"Legends above" has to be the best way of bringing legendary pokémon into a common curse I've read. I'd not be upset to see that become a cliché.

There's a problem with the plot of this chapter, though, and I think it's ultimately down to the rating. The plot is about poverty and counter-productive social welfare and people falling through the cracks ... but you've tried to do it on an Everyone rating, which means that you've got a drug dealer giving up on some of his income because she tells him "no". You've tried to get round that by painting him as essentially a playground bully - problem is, even if bullies really did back down in the face of courage, the picture of Complex D you've painted conflicts with that.

There's only so heavy you can get on an Everyone rating, I get that, and there's your problem, right there. Could I buy Marcus helping out a kid in danger of falling through the cracks in society? Yeah, I think I could. There are thousands of people like that in the real world, performing small miracles that no-one ever remembers for basically no thanks. Do I think the execution needs work? Yes, I'd say so.

 

[UselessBytes]

Well, In truth, I don’t know precisely why they started. What I do know are the legends. People say that the rains are a punishment, and usually claim that they came to flood the world as penance for humanity’s sins. Each legend has its own variations, but most of them seem to blame greed, selfishness, vanity, and other similar traits. However, the legend that goes into the most detail tells a much more frightening story.

Session 3

Dreamer​

Lilianne had big dreams.

She had small dreams, too, and even medium ones. She just liked to focus on the big ones. They were more exciting. They were the ones that made her parents nervous, the ones that made the other kids call her crazy. They were the ones that danced through her head when she couldn’t sleep at night, the ones that made the therapist say she wasn’t mature enough for a Pokémon of her own.

Lilianne put down the notebook she’d been doodling in, a cartoonish picture of a flower with a yellow circle peeking out of the corner of the page drawn in it. “There, that’s what I think it looks like,” she said, pushing it towards the nicely dressed man who sat across from her.

The man frowned, peering over the top of his glasses at the picture. “I see. So you really think you’ll see the sun one day?” the man asked thoughtfully. He rubbed a hand through his ragged patchwork of a beard as he studied the picture.
Lilianne nodded. “Absolutely. The rain is too gloomy. It’s gotta be happy sometime, right?” Lilianne said with a smile.

The man smiled. “If you say so, Lilianne. I think that’ll be all for today. How about you go get your mom for me?”

Lilianne nodded and skipped out of the room. “Mom!” she called into the modest waiting room. “Dr. Thatcher wants to talk to you!”

A middle aged woman stood up near the back of the room and made her way towards Lilianne, clutching her handbag. “Thank you, sweetie. You wait out here while I talk to Dr. Thatcher, okay honey?”

“Mhm!” Lilianne agreed, smiling. She skipped further into the waiting room, looking around at all the people in it. None of them were like her, most were quiet and sullen, looking for Dr. Thatcher to free them from their depression and anxiety and worries. Lilianne wasn’t concerned with any of those things. She was only here because her mom thought she was a tad crazy. She figured it was her dreams about seeing the sun that put her mom on edge.

Lilianne peeked out a smudged, rain specked window and peered out into the downpour. The massive hanging tree houses that made up Fortree were all lit up, the numerous lights making the dark forest shine. People and Pokémon alike moved quickly across the web of wooden bridges, eager to get to their destination and get out of the rain. Lilianne liked to imagine that the sun would make things just as bright, without the need for lights.

A bell chimed as the door to the waiting room swung open and a man walked in, brushing the rain off of his white jacket and cradling a small Pokémon in his other arm. He looked around the waiting room, catching sight of Lilianne. He smiled at her, and then made his way to the reception desk, and then began to speak with the receptionist. Lilianne stared at the man as he talked. She knew all the patients that saw Dr. Thatcher, and this man wasn’t one of them. He finished talking with the reception, and let out a soft laugh. He stepped away from the desk, and headed back out the door, still carrying the Pokémon in his arms. Lilianne watched him as the door swung shut behind him, muffling the sound of the rain falling outside. Lilianne paused, intrigued by the man. She’d never seen him before, and there was something about him that made her feel… drawn to him.

Lilianne skipped back towards the room where her mother was talking with Dr. Thatcher.

“So, are you sure there’s nothing wrong with her? There’s got to be, the other kids outgrew this stuff ages ago… Oh! Hello, darling. What do you need?” Lilianne’s mother said with a start once she noticed Lilianne was there.

Lilianne smiled, as if she was oblivious to her mother’s insensitive comment. “I’m gonna go walk around. I’ll see you at home!”

Lilianne’s mother sighed. “Oh. Okay, honey. Be safe.”

Lilianne. “Of course, mom. It was nice seeing you, Dr. Thatcher!”

Dr. Thatcher smiled. “It was nice seeing you as well, Lilianne. I’ll see you next month.”

Lilianne skipped out of the room once again, headed for the door. She pulled up the hood of her pink jacket to protect her short brown hair from the downpour, and slipped out the door. The rain beat down on her, falling heavier than usual. She heard the gentle splash of footsteps in a puddle, and turned to see the man from before ducking into the Pokémon Center. Lilianne skipped off after him, dancing across the slick bridge between the two treehouse platforms. The bridge shook and rattled as she crossed it, the wood creaking as if it were about to snap. Of course, Lilianne wasn’t afraid. She’d been scolded countless times about being reckless around Fortree’s many bridges, but it never stopped her. She wasn’t afraid of the old bridges snapping or breaking like her overly paranoid mother was.

She breezed into the Pokémon Center and caught sight of the man again, talking to the nurse at the counter. This time she could clearly see the Pokémon he was carrying with him, a small Shellos. It was sleeping, but it appeared to be doing so fitfully.

Lilianne approached the man as he handed his Shellos over to the nurse.

“That’s a cute Shellos. You don’t see a lot of those in Hoenn. Where’d you get it?” The man started, and turned around.

“Oh, hello. You’re the girl from the therapist’s office, aren’t you?” He asked. Lilianne nodded. “Well, I got Shellos here a while back, in Rustboro. But you’re right, Shellos aren’t native to Hoenn.”
“Mhm!” Lilianne agreed. “I’m Lilianne. What were you doing in Dr. Thatcher’s office?”

The man laughed. “Well, you’re certainly bold, Lilianne. I asked someone for a doctor, and they sent me there. I guess they misunderstood what I was looking for. I’m Marcus, by the way.”

“People tell me that a lot. They usually say I’m weird or annoying, too, though. Nice to meet you, Marcus.”

Marcus laughed again. “Well, you’re surprisingly chipper about that particular fact. It’s nice to meet you too, Lilianne. May I ask why you followed me all the way here from Dr. Thatcher’s office, young lady?”

Lilianne shrugged. “No reason in particular. You seemed interesting. And hey, I’m seventeen! You can’t be much older than me.”

Marcus stepped away from the counter. “I’m twenty-three, actually. I’d say six years is a good bit older. Why do you find me interesting?”

Lilianne skipped away from the counter, and Marcus followed. She sat in a waiting chair next to a small table, and Marcus sat across from her. “It’s simple,” she finally answered. “You’re like me.”

“How so?”
Lilianne spread her arms wide an gestured to the Pokémon Center around them. “Everyone in this city is so gloomy and sad. They all worry, worry, worry, and never smile. All they focus on are the bad things, and they worry themselves into a hole! And then they go whine to Dr. Thatcher about it. But you smiled at me, a stranger. No one does that around here. Heck, they don’t smile at people they already know! You, me, and Dr. Thatcher. We’re the only happy people in the whole city.”

Marcus frowned. “That’s certainly a saddening thought. Why are you so happy, then, if you’re always surrounded by other’s misery?”

“I dunno,” Lilianne answered. “I guess I kinda just ignore it all. Everything’s already gloomy enough, with all this stupid rain.”

Marcus put a hand to his chin, thinking. “I guess that’s a valid answer. I do agree that the rain does put a bit of a damper on things from time to time,” he said. “Say, if you’re so happy, then why are you seeing Dr. Thatcher?”

Lilianne giggled. “Oh, my mom thinks I’m crazy. Dr. Thatcher doesn’t believe her, though. He always says I’m perfectly fine, but my mom insists that something’s wrong with my brain,” Lilianne explained, twirling her finger next to her head. “Dr. Thatcher is pretty cool about it though. He listens to me when I want to talk about my dreams. Everyone else just laughs or makes fun of me.”

“I see. What dreams do you have?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ve got a lot. Small ones, big ones, medium ones. My favorite one is the sun, though.”
Marcus paused. “The sun?”

“Yeah, you know, that big glowy ball in the sky all the history books talk about?” Lilianne said.

Marcus nodded. “I know what the sun is. I’ve just never met someone who seemed so eager to see it.”

Lilianne intrigued Marcus. There was something about her that reminded him of himself. The dreams, the way she was different, it was all familiar to him.

“But yeah, I want to see the sun,” Lilianne continued. “But I mean, who wouldn’t? It just sounds so cool! I can just imagine how bright and warm it would be! And everyone would finally be happy, like me and you!”

“You know, Lilianne,” Marcus started, “When you came up to me after I saw you in Dr. Thatcher’s office, I figured you’d be one of the usual troubled souls that manage to find me. Clearly I was wrong.”

“What do you mean, ‘troubled souls’?” Lilianne asked.

Marcus stood up, leaning against the table. “You see, I’ve got a habit of running into people who could use some help. I figured you’d be one of them, but there’s not much that I can do to help you. You’re just as well off as I am.”

Lilianne laughed. “If you want to, I’m sure I can think of something for you to do.”
A call from the nurse’s counter snagged Marcus’s attention as the nurse he’d talked to approached him, holding Shellos, who was now awake and happy.

“Shellos seems to be okay now. The problem was nothing major,” the nurse explained. “If the fever picks up again, please come straight back.”
Marcus reached out and took the small Pokémon from the nurse. “Of course, of course. I’ll come right back if anything happens. Thank you.” The nurse continued to talk about Shellos with Marcus as Shellos slipped out of Marcus’s arms and made its way towards Lilianne.

“Hey there, Shellos,” Lilianne said, petting the small Pokémon as it rubbed up against her arm. “How did Marcus help you? Maybe he can help me see the sun!” Lilianne said, laughing.

“Hmm, that might be a little above my paygrade,” Marcus said. Lilianne looked up, noticing that the nurse had left. She laughed again.

“Oh, I know that. Wishful thinking is all. Well, I should probably get home before my mom starts worrying. It was nice to meet you, Marcus.”

“It was nice meeting you as well, Lilianne.”

Lilianne stood, and skipped out the Pokémon Center doors, waving goodbye as she did. Marcus smiled. Lilianne certainly was an interesting young lady.

Marcus stood up, placing Shellos on his shoulder, and headed for the door himself. Shellos gave an affectionate squeak as Marcus stepped out into the rain, enjoying the rain against its skin. Marcus looked out into the dark forest and sighed, pulling his hood up over his head.

“Help you see the sun, eh, Lilianne?” Marcus muttered. The dim lights adorning the various platforms that made up Fortree cast long shadows all about, almost creating more darkness than they dispelled. It reminded Marcus of Fallarbor, where the rain mixed with ash from Mt. Chimney, painting the sky a thick black, and draping the ground in a fine mix of water and soot.

“Sounds impossible doesn’t it? I think we ought to try, though. What do you say, Shellos?” Marcus asked. Shellos squeaked in agreement, as it always did. Marcus chuckled. “I figured you would say that.” Marcus looked up at the clouds, trying to envision what it would look like for the sun to peek through. “I’ll do my best, Lilianne.”

 

[Ghostsoul]

I, unfortunately, have been burdened with the great task of recording my research for mankind to one day study, in hopes that it may help them understand the dire situation we, humanity, had placed ourselves in. Perhaps, along the way, those who read my work will also come to understand the man who unknowingly freed us from our self made doom.

The story opens in a pretty mysterious and unique way. It opens a lot of questions for the plot ahead and is effectively an 'open' introduction.

Session 1

Wanderer

'Session' is also a unique choice in terms of naming individual chapters and the importance of them.

“Alan. A nice name. Mine’s Marcus.”

“Well, nice to meet ya, Marcus.” Alan stuck out his hand to shake and Marcus took it.

“Well, now that we’re introduced, what do you say we get to work, Alan?”

Alan once again paused. “Pardon?”

Marcus gestured to hole in Alan’s roof. “I did say you looked like you could use some help didn’t you?”

Alan was stunned. “You’re tellin’ me you’re gonna try and patch up that hole?” he asked.

Marcus nodded. “More or less. I could use your help, if you’re willing.”

The dialogue flows well during this part. The pace and exchange between the two characters are good.

Marcus sighed. “Most people aren’t so helpful, I’ll admit. It makes me sad. Selfish people make for a dreary world, and I daresay this rain makes the world dreary enough.”

This feels a bit heavyhanded? If you want kindness vs selfishness to become a major theme in the text then it's best to weave it into backstory and character rather than showing it through dialogue immediately. Perhaps have Marcus mention how betrayl makes him nervous, or have him suspect Alan is dishonest? This will stop it from feeling too forced.

Marcus paused for a moment. “I’m not sure. I’m just wandering, for the time being. Walking the Earth, one might say.”

The idea of Marcus being a simple 'wanderer' is also an interesting concept. How will Marcus and Alan's lives conflict because of their mentality and lifestyles. There are also a lot of myths to do with 'wanders' even in Pokemon, with characters like AZ.

Marcus sighed. “That’s horribly bleak. I’d like to imagine the world has something more to it than endless rain. Something more than a constant fight for survival. Surely the world has something to look forward to other than endlessly drowning.”

Again, the metaphor is nice but the way the theme is tackled makes it lose it's grace a bit.

Alan poured out a second mug of coffee and placed it on the table in front of Marcus, who took it and drank eagerly.

It's crossed my mind that there are very few physical descriptions of anything, anywhere in this story. (We don't get to see inside the characters head too much either) It's incredibly dialogue heavy, which in itself is fine but with everything else very sparse. I feel as if I can only wonder where I'm supposed to be and what kind of setting it is.

As the whole world drowned, Marcus did his best to stay afloat, picking up stragglers like Shellos along the way. Yes, the whole world drowned, but Marcus refused to let it.

The same metaphor is a lot nicer here. I'm guessing the world drowning is a kind of 'arc image' which we'll see throughout the tale.

“Because this world is drowning. Not just in the rain, but in it’s own misery and selfishness. People only look out for themselves these days. There’s not much I can do to change that, but if I can help just a few people, I feel like I’ve made some progress in the right direction. It’s a hopeless struggle, but I keep it up. It’s what keeps me going.”

This sentence suffers the same issue that I've already mentioned. Not only that, but you've already proved your point with the other lines of dialogue you've had Marcus say in the chapter (which is a rather short chapter anyway). This also makes Marcus appear a bit of a one-note character, who exists kind of to prove a point and not much else. Which is a shame since he seems to be a really interesting character.

This story has a lot of potential, especially in terms of its dialogue and characters. I think you do a good job building a mysterious atmosphere and I think you can continue building up this atmosphere. However, there should be more care given in the show vs tell in terms of the characters philosophies and the themes you've chosen for the story. I would also practice some more descriptive writing, use the 5 senses and such. Sometimes it's quite hard to picture where the characters are. If it's an unexciting environment just a little bit of description should be fine, however.

 

[Beth Pavell]

I found with Chapter Three that I didn't have much come to mind about the plot, or even much about the characters here. It strikes me as something like more of the same. I do question Lilianne - I get that she's supposed to be an oddball, but I honestly thought she was supposed be a child until she claimed she was seventeen? A teenager who skips everywhere?

As I recall, this is supposed to be a "What if?" kind of story, so I suppose I can make some comments there. The sun here seems to be treated in a kind of semi-mythical way, and I'm not entirely convinced on that. I could buy that nobody remembers what sunshine feels like anymore, or really believes that it ever will be a thing again ... but they'd still know about the sun, surely? It would still be a demonstrably real phenomenon.

Some small typos here and there, mostly with the missing line breaks between dialogue.

 

[Gama]

This is certainly an interesting concept for a story - individual episodes about a variety of characters that meet the protagonist all set before the backdrop of an eternal rain in Hoenn for as long as anyone can remember. (Something to do with Kyogre and/or Team Aqua perhaps?) I've enjoyed reading the three sessions so far and am looking forward to reading more!

Given there are both Monster of the Week style issues and also an overall plot, I'll be interested to see how long this story continues with the same format of being very separate individual episodes rather than revisiting some of the characters and events from earlier "sessions".

The plots of the individual sessions are decent enough, though fairly light on the ground in the sense that there's really only one event per session. Same can be said for most of the characters: I think "one-dimensional" is probably a tad harsh because they're all quite interesting, but they do seem to mostly have one issue they're facing that Marcus engages with them on. That's not a problem per se because, as I've said, they're all quite interesting, but I do wonder whether the format might wear if you persist with it indefinitely.

At certain times, a bit more context could be useful, especially when describing characters. I've found it difficult to place how old most characters are, for example. Marcus's age is a mystery until Session 3 and (as Beth has already said above) until Lilianne said she was seventeen I thought she was meant to be about six. Don't be afraid to just explicitly state (roughly) how old a character is when you're describing what they look like.

I like the introduction of Marcus. He's an engaging and intriguing character from the get-go. His philosophy is interesting and that he's the only person who asks why it always rains and always has is interesting. (Also an interesting world aspect.) I did initially wonder whether Marcus is a shade manipulative: he was extremely helpful to Alan, of course, but did he perhaps have getting a place to stay in mind from the moment he offered to help? He certainly seemed quick to accept the offer of somewhere to stay.

In terms of writing style, I've found it overall to be really good, engaging, and technically solid. I think there is a tendency (admittedly less so in the later sessions) for your writing to spell things out for readers beyond what is necessary. Here's an example from session 1:

The man frowned again. “Well, that’s no good. I take it you grew up here, in this house?”

Alan nodded. He’d lived in the building all his life.

"He'd lived in the building all his life" isn't really necessary. We get this information (or near enough anyway) from Alan nodding in response to Marcus's question. Similarly, I think at times character speech really spells out what you want readers to think of Marcus and other characters beyond what is necessary: they do tend to comment on their philosophies and how the world perceives them more than feels natural. It would improve the way this story reads if you could trust your readers to interpret the story "correctly" a little more.

Anyway, looks like Marcus has finally latched on to the mission of making the sun shine again. Is this the start of the individual sessions building up into a grander story? While I am certainly enjoying the episodic nature of your story, I think I would like it if they did build into something bigger. I'm also very keen to find out more about Marcus and Shellos!

Overall, great story and a very fresh idea, both in terms of concept and form. I look forward to reading more!