I had an idea. I should really stop doing that. Without further ado, my excuse for fanfiction.
Chapter 1: Nostalgic (Sammich)
"And Alder sends out Bouffalant! The challenger still seems confident, but Emboar is low on health and he knows it! Both sides are down to two pokémon! This is where-"
"You've watched enough battles, Sammich. Are you really that nervous?" Nora says, shutting off the TV.
"Why wouldn't I be? Everyone else is mais qualified than me! Hell, the moment I get whatever sorry excuse for a starter I get Miyako's gonna whoop my bunda with, like, a level ninety-five Salamence or whatever she has!"
Nora frowns. "If Miyako had a level ninety-five Salamence she'd be the champion por now. All you know for sure is that she's got a rare Eevee, and that shouldn't pose too much of a threat. Relax. Trust me, you'll do fine. Remember, pick the water starter, 'cause if you pick Snivy you're screwed unless you're Cheren or something, and afterwards invite your friends over here so I can watch you kick that tacky chick into seguinte week. Who the hell has a waist-length braid, anyway?"
"I'm sure it has cultural significance," I mutter into the table.
"Whatever. Eat your Mincinn'Os." Nora punches me in a way I guess was supposed to be friendly but actually stings like hell and slides my bowl of Unova's favorito cereal across the mesa, tabela to me.
I try to enjoy my (admittedly delicious) breakfast, but all I can think of is my journey. If all goes as planned I should return início in a ano or so with some shiny new gym badges and a ton of pokémon. Not that it is. All I've thought of getting slaughtered por Miyako and her team of overpowered Dragonites (or whatever she has), getting abandoned por my friends because I'm not good enough, and getting completely wiped por every gym leader I challenge. I'm also not sure about the starters. Since there are five of us, there'll be two duplicates, or three of one species. That means I need to adjust my choice accordingly so that I won't have a disadvantage to three of my four friends.
After I'm done eating I head towards the door. Going through the normal routine feels different now. It's strange how just putting on an laranja blazer can make one so nostalgic.
For the last touch, I remove a grey checkered fedora from the hat árvore that Nora gave me for my birthday last year. The hat fits snugly on my head. I stare in the mirror, one hand on the door, one hand adjusting the hat. Perfect. I open the door slowly, feeling the familiar Nuvema Town breeze on my face.
"Forgetting something?" Nora hands me my bag. How could I have forgotten?
"No problem." She smiles sweetly and pushes a morango blond hair out of my face. "Make sure to invite everyone over, 'kay? I wanna see you destroy all of them in a pokémon battle!"
I laugh nervously. "Sure thing."
And with that I open the door.
Nuvema Town is beautiful this time of year. The leaves are all kinds of red, and the ground is covered with them. During fall Nuvema seems to be in a state of perpetual twilight and I, for one, find that relaxing. I wonder if the rest of Unova is this beautiful. I doubt it.
"Hello? Sammich? Why are you just staring off into the distance?" I am startled back to reality por my friend, Cheren Noir, an erudite young man with short blue hair with the ever-present gravity-defying lock assuming a practically vertical position. His eyes are the weirdest shade of grayish-purple, not that you'd know that with all of the sun reflecting off of his glasses.
"Oh, just thinking. You know, that thing you do a lot?" Smoot, Watts. Really nailed the guy there.
"I can accept that. So what starter are you going to pick?" I've never heard Cheren ask a casual pergunta before. Something must be up.
"You're just going to pick whichever one has a type advantage to it, aren't you?"
Cheren laughs. "You got me, Sammich."
"If you must know, I'm choosing Oshawott."
"Good, because I wanted Snivy."
I stare at Cheren like he's insane, which I'm starting to think he is. "Snivy? Why? I've heard it has a type disadvantage to like half the gym leaders!"
He frowns. "Yeah, half, and one gym resists it."
"I wanted a challenge, I guess, and I figured you'd all pick Oshawott. Oh, we're here. Hi, Bianca. Hi, Hilda." Indeed, we had arrived at the lab. Bianca, a petite young woman with a circular green hat, and Hilda, an extremely tall brunette with an insane amount of hair that she somehow managed to fit under that boné, cap of hers, were waiting for us.
"Hey, guys! You excited or what?" Bianca can barely keep from jumping up and down.
"Calm down, Bianca. I'm excited too, but you look like you're about to go supernova."
"You should be excited. Not many have the chance to be defeated in battle por the great Orron." I turn around to see yet another familiar face-Orron, most of his face shadowed por his hat.
"Good to see you too, Orron," mutters Cheren.
"Wish I could say the same, but after today you won't see any mais of me, except my dust. Don't worry-I'll let you guys be gym leaders or something when I'm the champion. I hope that serves as a small comfort to you when you've lost to me. Anyway, whatevs. Where the pokés at?" Orron walks up to the door of the lab and pushes it open.
Professor Juniper looks up from her paperwork. "Oh, hi guys. Where's Miyako?"
"Why would she be here?" asks Cheren, "Doesn't she already have pokémon?"
"I guess so. In that case, come in, guys."
I enter the lab, knowing that it's the last door I'll go through as an ordinary civilian. Cheren enters behind me, polishing his glasses. Bianca skip-walks through the door excitedly, and Orron strides through the door confidently after her. Hilda gives her hat one last adjustment and follows him, closing the door after her.
"Okay, y'all," says the professor, "I have a choice for you. We have five starters here, and we also have the results of your trainer aptitude exams. Now, we can do the standard thing and give you a choice, or we can use your results to assign you starters. That'll get rid of picking for type advantages."
Crap. Knowing how I do on tests, I bet I'll get like a Farfetch'd or something. Oh, well. It's not like any of the others will agree. I mean, manipulating the factors in a battle is what Cheren does, and I'm pretty sure Hilda knows what she wants in a starter.
"That sounds good to me," says Cheren, putting his glasses back on. I can hear him mentally swearing over his lost advantage.
"Sure," agrees Orron, "If it's based on aptitude, whatever I get's going to own all of you anyway."
"Okay. I can live with that," adds Hilda. She seems pretty confident she'll get something good.
"Why not, as long as I get a pokémon." Bianca isn't any less energetic, of course.
"What about you, Sammich?" asks the professor. "The choice is yours."
Not really. Everyone else has already agreed. I steel myself for the painful reality of whatever terrible starter I get.
"Okay," I say, stepping forward, "Let's do this."
I have mais written, I'm just not sure if what I have so far is any good.