Two Forgotten Drafts.

[RaccoonGoon]

Note: I was cleaning some garbage out from under my bed when I found an old folder from school. Inside were some folded papers where I had hastily written down the opening paragraphs to some fan-fiction. I'm not sure if I intended for them to be part of the same story or not, I've long since forgotten. As with the past things I've posted here, these were written many years ago, and I didn't jot the date down on them. I'd figure I wrote them around 2015 or 2016 or so, but I'm not sure. In my quest to purge myself of the horseshit I've written in the past, I'm going to post the two following drafts below before I shred the physical copies.

[1] Hotel Richissime.
(Written ~2015 or 2016)
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They were wearing a drab olive green jacket with tears on the left shoulder, allowing the wiry stuffing to bleed out. Due to this the stitched-in badge was half gone, only the lower half remained to show what looked to be the snout of a Ninetails, holding the severed scythe of a Scyther in its mouth. Their normal brown trousers were dirty. The shirt beneath the jacket was simple and black. The boots on their feet were tan and square. I'd gladly describe the face, but there wasn't one. The head was a helmet. They lifted a leg and drove it near the golden doorknob to make the lock fail and the door fling open. The man on the bed was not prepared for a fight to the death. He was in his underwear, watching the television.

Oh, no, oh no no no, the man on the bed said.

The one who had kicked in the door flung a Pokeball inside the room, straight at the man. The ball smashed into his nose, surely breaking it, and the sudden flash of light blinded him just enough so the last thing he saw was the inside of a Krookodile's mouth before it snapped down over him, biting him in half at the waist. As soon as the Pokemon chewed and swallowed the upper half of the man, the person(?) who was still living walked in the room and picked up the Pokeball. Blood had gotten on it so they wiped it off with the cuff of their jacket sleeve. The Krookodile was returned after the time on the room clock was checked. One in the morning, or a bit after. The person(?) left the lower half of the man on the bed and left the busted door wide open as they left the Hotel Richissime. [End]

[2] Black City.
(Written ~2015 or 2016)
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The Hitmonchamp threw a left hook, catching the man under his right ribs. He in turn delivered a bare-knuckled uppercut into the Pokemon's jaw, feeling it crack under the impact. The fighters backed from one another, circled around each other a few steps, then went back to throwing punches. The crowd around them formed the ring. They were yelling and cheering. Hitmonchamp's fists became a flurry, crashing against the man's raised arms. When there was a pause in the attack he parted his arms a bit, his one eye peering at his oppenent. His left arm rippled its muscle and windmilled around, smashing atop the Pokemon's head, causing it to slump down, followed by the right arm swinging up in the same fashion. The blow shattered the center of Hitmonchamp's face. Sweat was replaced with blood as the creature was sent wheeling back. The roar of the crowd grew louder. Hitmonchamp fell onto its back, down for the count. The man breathed heavily and wiped the sweat from his brow. He examined his bloody and bruised and raw knuckles. One member of the crowd returned the defeated Pokemon as another stepped up and handed the winner a wad of money. He picked up his shirt and threw it on without buttoning it up and stuffed the money in his pocket. He left as the crowd was still howling. He walked up the stairs, out of the door, and into the alleyway.

Black City was a city that lived at night. He buttoned his shirt as he walked through the city to his apartment. Once at his door he patted his pockets. His keys were missing, he had forgotten them. He knocked. Then knocked again. The door was opened by a green haired girl wearing one of his large sweaters. She rubbed her eyes and smiled and wrapped her arms around him. She had to stand on the tips of her toes. He grunted in pain but hugged her back. She noticed this and looked up at him with concern. Soon enough his shirt was back off, his knuckles wrapped, and ice packs pressed against his torso. The young girl brought him a cold beverage and opened the can for him, lounging on the bed.

"Thank you, Lop'." he said, using the abbreviated version of Lopunny. The girl smiled and gently sat next to him on the bed. Her toenails were a shade of green, matching her own short hair. He pointed and smiled.

"Paint your toenails today?"

She smiled happily and got up on her knees, nodding. She plopped back down on her rear, stretching her legs and flaying her toes out as much as she could. The sweater came down nearly to her knees. He reached over and patted her shoulder. "You did very well, Lop'. Very, very good job."

She blushed and smiled more. She made a sound of happiness and content. Her tongue was missing. He smiled back and wrapped an arm around her, kissing her quickly on the cheek.

"Lets go to bed."

The lights were turned out and they got under the sheet. He took off the eyepatch and felt her curl up next to him. His body hurt, but he fell asleep all the same.

***

The Hitmonlee extended it's leg, smashing the door and sending it flying through the room. [End]

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