Pokémon Undefeatable

[Misfit Angel]

BANNER GOES HERE LAWL​

Welcome! You've stumbled across Undefeatable, a story about a down and out former Pokémon trainer named Stephanie who seeks to put herself back together and resume her unfinished journey. Along the way, she intends to take back that which was stolen from her (or at least what she can take back), rebuild her confidence and come out of it stronger that before. Her primary motivation is to prove herself not just to those who've lost faith in her, but to herself as well; she set lofty goals when she started her adventure, and she's determined to see if she can reach them.

The setting for this story is the tri-state region of Kensacola, a Caribbean-inspired chain of islands. Much of the action takes place on Kensala Majora, the largest island of the region, and one that is split in two (similar to Haiti and the Dominican Republic). The western half of the island is stable and propserous, while the eastern half struggles with corruption, poverty and waves of violent crime. Hundreds of islands, collectively known as Kensala Minora, dot the surrounding seas. Across the northern sea lies Kensa, an untamed jungle peninsula attached to a much larger landmass. The officially recognized gyms of the Serene Sea League are dotted across all three areas.

Many regard this league to be one of the most difficult to challenge in the world. Not because of the skill of the gym leaders or its Elite Four, but because of the dangers involved in traveling the eastern portions of Kensala Majora, the hot and humid weather which makes hiking across the island difficult, the ludicrous amount of paperwork and red tape involved with moving between the three states, and the fact that gyms frequently lose their official recognition in favor of others. All just more challenges for Stephanie to surpass, eh?

Map coming soon once I've finished making it look nice

Content warnings: the following will crop up at some point:
[ very strong language ] :: [ graphic violence ] :: [ references to drug and alcohol abuse ]
[ mild sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]

Content tags: what will you find within?
[ original characters ] :: [ original region ] :: [ "fakemon" ] :: [ gym challenge ]
[ primary focus on the protagonist's recovery ] :: [ secondary focus on pokemon training ] ​

Table of Contents
Part 1: Crossroads

• Prologue - My First Steps
• Chapter 1 - My Decision

 

[Misfit Angel]

Undefeatable
Prologue: My First Steps​

That night, I finally found the strength to do something about my life, a life that had more or less ended long ago. A life that had stopped progressing as I had wanted it. A life that was trapped in the past, reliving the worst experiences I could imagine, and hoping it was all just a bad nightmare that I would finally wake up from.

- - - - -​

I was laying down in bed, listening to a lengthy playlist of dreamy chill out music. The front-and-center bass line smoothed my nerves and melted my anxiety away. The peppy and surprisingly soft percussion cheered me up. The jazzy tones of a softly played piano relaxed me and made me feel as if I weren't resting on an uncomfortable spring mattress. Ambient sounds of the ocean accompanied the track, as did a hefty breeze blowing through palm fronds, taking me from that dark room and whisking me away to a placid beach. I could almost feel the breeze, smell the salty sea air. I was there at some point before... physically, on that beach, lost in blissful memory.

All of that was shattered when my phone started to ring. At first, I was happy: it'd been the first call that I'd gotten in a few weeks. But then I picked it up to see who it was, and that happiness drained from me.

Call from: Mom

Sigh.

I dropped the phone back onto the bed and turned my back to it. It's not like I hated hearing from my mother, but talking to her was just such a god damned drag most of the time. And considering everything that'd happened in the past year... I had a long conversation full of 'I told you so's in store for me the next time I spoke to her. That night was not the night for that conversation.

That night was eight months to the day when my life was dramatically changed for the absolute worst. Eight months ago, I was an up and coming Pokémon trainer, making my way through the Serene Sea League. I'd been at it for almost a year, and I'd gotten pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself. In that year, I'd earned two badges from across the region -- most people still don't have their first badge by the end of their first year. I placed third in the Leste Torneio Perito as well, which is no small feat for someone with my level of experience. I'd even gotten a chance to meet and train alongside the league champion, Edwin Greybell, a rare opportunity for people who hadn't yet completed the gym circuit.

But in all that time, I was always following in the shadow of my childhood friend, Cynthia Ward. Synth, I called her, because of her extremely analytical nature -- she always loved joking that she were some sort of android, and sometimes I started to believe it. Synth was always several steps ahead of me. My two badges were met with her five. She predictably took the first place prize in the Torneio Perito, wiping the floor with everyone else, myself included. In fact, that chance meeting I got to train alongside Edwin? I was only there, pushed away into the background, because I was her travel buddy. She was the person who Edwin was actually interested in meeting.

As impressive as both of us may have been, it didn't make us invincible. They say that even the most well trained and well equipped soldier in the world is no match for an insurgent who's having a lucky day. All that training, equipment and experience, it's not going to change the arc of the bullet as it leaves the barrel of the insurgent's rifle. That lucky shot is still going to get him right in the head, and there's nothing that'll save him. What do I mean by that?

Eight months ago, Synth and I were in the city of Porto Orquídeas on the eastern half of the island. In most situations, girls like us could handle ourselves. We had powerful Pokémon by our side to defend ourselves. For the most part, we had street sense, and we knew when trouble was brewing around us. After a few encounters with petty criminals and pickpockets, we were careful to remain highly aware of our surroundings. But none of that prepared us for what happened that night. We were coming out of the Orquídeas gym after Synth had successfully challenged and defeated the gym leader. We were happy and excited and ready to celebrate -- we were careless -- and we had our guard down, because all of a sudden, we were swarmed by ruthless gangsters. That's pretty much the last thing I remember... I remember reaching for one of my Pokéballs before being grabbed and thrown against the wall... and then I woke up in a hospital on the other side of the island, several days later.

When I came to, the first thing I noticed was that I was in bad shape. My left arm was numb, both of my legs were in casts and breathing was difficult and painful. I also had a concussion, which accounted for the fiery headache and blurred vision. Over the next few days, I learned that everything had been taken from me. My Pokémon, my backpack, my money, my innocence... even Synth herself. They told me that she put up a fight in my defense... But with the speed and power that those thugs had hit us, she couldn't put up much of one. My childhood friend -- my best friend -- gone in an instant.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, furrowed my brow and growled to myself in frustration. I told myself that I'd remember the positives of my friendship with Synth, but they were drowned out easily by the horrors I'd experienced that night, and in the following weeks. Those memories were starting to drown me. I looked around for a distraction without realizing I had already set myself up to fail.

When I was discharged from the hospital, I was completely broke, and not just in a physical or mental health sense: I didn't have a single bronze shell to my name. Not only was my cash on hand stolen by those thugs, my bank account was emptied by my lengthy hospital stay. I had nowhere to go, couldn't rent an apartment, and flying home -- which I was stubbornly resistant to -- would have taken my mother a couple weeks to arrange. With nowhere to turn, I appealed to Synth's parents to help me. They agreed to take me in... and they gave me Synth's childhood bedroom. I was not prepared for the mental torment that would put me through.

I woke up to daily reminders of her. Posters of boy bands hung from her walls, reminding me of her youthful innocence. Her old high school diary was still on her desk. Every now and then I'd read from it and be reminded of how much she valued her life, how often she laughed at her goofy life experiences, and how much she loved the world and the people around her despite their numerous faults. Her cute and colorful wardrobe greeted me every time I opened a drawer to grab one of my own drab and conservative outfits.

Admittedly, I'd gotten used to most of that stuff over the past eight months. But still, that night... as I looked around the room for a distraction from my thoughts, I only magnified them. I needed some fresh air, maybe that would calm me down.

I pulled myself to the edge of the bed and grabbed onto the arm rest of the wheelchair that sat next to it. With great effort, I clawed myself into the chair and wheeled it towards the doorway to the balcony of our 22nd floor condo. I grabbed the handles on the doors and slid them open; a blast of warm tropical air surged inward, blowing my unkempt blonde hair out of my face. I carefully wheeled my way out onto the balcony and stared out into the skyline of the city I'd called home for the past eight months, the city of Port Fortune.

The city was so beautiful at night, and I think that's why I was so comfortable staying there despite the bad memories. The skyscrapers glowing with bright and glittery light, strobes of neon flashing along the street below that stretched all the way to the sea... The moon reflecting off of the ocean, the palms along the shore dancing in the breeze... As terrible as things were, you just couldn't beat that level of natural beauty, complimented by human ingenuity.

With my chin rested in the palm of my hand, I stared up into the starry sky. In hindsight, that wasn't the best idea. It wasn't a full moon that night, but it was just a day off from one. It brought back memories of when Synth came to visit me back in my childhood home of Susqanna Falls. She pestered me to join her as her travel partner as she stomped across this wondrous island nation to compete in its competitive Pokémon training league. I was hesitant, because it was such a big decision for two girls as young as we were, but... I made that decision under the full moon, almost two years ago, and I wished I could have gone back to that point and tell myself not to do it. My life would have been radically different no doubt, and probably for the worse, but at least Synth would likely have still been here.

There was nothing I could do. Sitting on that balcony in that damned wheelchair, lazing about in bed listening to music, talking with Synth's parents, all of it would have reminded me of her and what happened to us. I couldn't think of anything I could do that wouldn't have crushed me with emotion as those bad memories surged back, short of drinking myself into a coma. Out of ideas and against my better judgment, I picked up my phone to listen to that voicemail my mother had left for me. I figured that anger would be a better emotion than sorrow... Not that my mother has the natural effect of making me angry, but because I had a feeling I knew what I was going to hear.

I slouched back in my wheelchair and pressed the play button.

"Stephanie? It's been a while since we've talked, and I wanted to check in on you.

Mel tells me that you're doing well. You've been getting out of the house, I hear! That's great! And apparently your mood has been improving, as well? That's also wonderful to hear! How are your legs doing? Mel tells me that Dr. Warner has said you've made a full recovery, yet you're still using your wheelchair..."

I uncomfortably fidgeted, digging my nails into the cushioned arm rest. Any harder and I might have broken one of them.

"That worries me, Steph. Your legs may be healed, but you're not progressing when it comes to your full recovery... Have you been skipping on your physical therapy sessions again? You know how important they are! I'm beginning to think that staying on Kensala Majora is the reason you've stopped making progress. Now that your legs are healed... It's time for you to come home. You have a loving family here, we can look after you! We can find out what's wrong and fix it, together! Mel has already started making arrangements for you to fly back home. I'd rather you come home now, since things obviously aren't working as well as they should, but she insists we wait a bit and try one more therapy session.

"Things will be simpler and easier when you come home. You'll be happier, safer, and your future will be more secure. You've always been welcome to come back and help out on the maple syrup plantation, and you still are. Heh, your brother is in over his head with the business expansions that your father started to make before he passed, he'd be happy to have your help with that! The plantation aside, you're also at the age where young women should really be settling down and starting a family, rather than getting yourself in trouble with all of your dangerous misadventures. If you wait any longer, that sweet boy Todd might go looking somewhere else...

"Anyways, I'm proud of everything you've achieved so far in your recovery, and I hope you continue to make progress! Call me back when you can, and remember: I love you."

I sighed deeply and turned my phone off. Despite my suspicions that I would be, I don't know why I was so surprised that I had gotten more of the same. Phone calls from her were always so formulaic. She would always tell me how proud she was of me, but would word it in a way that would exclude my achievements as a Pokémon trainer. She would ask why I'm not doing the things she's demanding of me; this time it was about my therapy sessions -- which I do still go to -- rather than her usual request: attend church services and rejoin the flock of sheep.

Sheep. That is literally what people of our faith happily called themselves, and it always amused me that nobody ever seemed to see the irony in that.

Most important to her was that I returned home, get together with that socially broken goof I'd known since I was a kid -- Todd, what a dumb name -- and carry his children like a good little housewife should. She was obsessed with pairing the two of us together and getting grandchildren out of us. Her obsession bordered on... just plain fucking weird and creepy.

Ugh, starting a family? She thinks that's the panacea that'll bring me happiness? Is she fucking kidding me? I can't even imagine it! How would that even do the trick? Wake up next to some hairy ape every morning, fix him breakfast, pick up his dirty clothes, listen to his problems and keep the house clean and orderly, all while I pat my expanding belly and count down the days until my next child is born? Fuck. That. My mother and two older sisters -- and sadly my younger sister, too, I recently learned -- may have been fine with being suckered into that lifestyle, but not me. I have greater potential -- we all do -- and I'm not going to squander it.

I guess I really shouldn't blame her. My mother and sisters are profoundly simple women and tragically don't know any better. The 'traditional' way of life is a disease, and it's spread throughout my homeland, but... that's another discussion for another time. What mattered in that moment was me. Being able to see the world -- even the small corner known as Kensacola -- had taught me there's more to life than just being a housewife; I was always interested in being more than what our Divine Creator planned for me, but finally experiencing a different and less repressed culture fully inspired me to reach my limits.

Reaching my limits... that was something I hadn't thought about in such a long time...

At one point in my life, I thought it was possible that I would one day cross the field of a packed stadium, give it my all during my challenge against the league champion, and claim my place in history. That's a thought that hadn't passed through my mind since I started that long journey, almost two years ago. I crashed and burned and lost everything, but surely I still had that potential. And if I had that potential... I could actually still do it, right? It seemed impossible now, considering my Pokémon were gone... But maybe I could get them back somehow?

If I did resume my league challenge, it'd have to be under different terms. I'd have to be more cautious of my surroundings to avoid a situation similar to the one that took Synth away from me. That would also involve picking a better team; my Sentret may have been cute, but he was kinda useless as anything more than a cuddly pet.

And if I had another go at it... I'd have to dedicate my performances to Synth's memory. She's the person who set me on that path, the person who inspired me, and the person who pushed me when I made my early mistakes and considered quitting. She never gave up on me, even at the very end.

While I was thinking it over, there was something in the back of my mind that was bugging me. I reached for my phone and listened to the voicemail again to confirm my suspicions: my own mother didn't tell me that she believed in me. I got that feeling from most people I knew, even my generous hosts. I fell face first into the dirt and ate shit, through no fault of my own, and suddenly it was like I couldn't be trusted to have dreams and aspirations anymore. No, I was to crawl back home, stop being a rebellious upstart and start behaving like a good girl.

Well. Maybe I should show her, show everyone who stopped believing in me, or never did in the first place: I wouldn't be defeated that easily.

In hindsight, it was a profoundly dangerous and stupid idea, but I reached out, grabbed the railing and lifted my butt off of that wheelchair. With both legs under me, I teetered on one as I kicked the wheelchair back and away from me. As I leaned on the railing for support, I instinctively looked down, and a sense of vertigo rushed over me like a tidal wave as I clamped my eyes shut. The jittery wobbling of my legs almost saw me collapse onto the balcony, but I just knew I had to be strong enough to stand on my own. With a deep breath, I stood up tall and loosened my grip on the railing until my hands were merely hovering above it, just in case.

For the first time in eight months, I was standing. On my own, no support! I was close at my last one, but I hadn't even achieved this in my physical therapy sessions! I looked up at that almost-full moon and made my decision: I was ready to take back my life and live it on my terms. I didn't know how or where to start again, or when I even could, but I was going to resume the journey that ended eight months ago.

I was terrified, but excited at the same time; those were my first steps on the long walk ahead of me.

 

[Adamhuarts]

I've been looking forward to this new project of yours after hearing you talk about it for some time now and I'm pleased that it's finally here.

The prologue was pretty decent to me all things considered. It did a good job of telling us the kind of person Mel is and you did a good job of showing us her mental turmoil in this brief prologue. It is true that all it takes is a bad day to send someone's life down to hell and it's heart breaking what befell them.

Honestly I'm surprised Synth died in the incident. With these kinds of stories focusing on someone living in someone's shadow you'd expect them to just kinda break away from the other and prove themselves some other way. Except in this case Synth is gone forever, so it'd be interesting to see whether her death will continue to loom over Mel and or if there might have been some bitterness between them while the former was still alive.

I bid you good luck on this story. It shows a lot of promise and I'd like to know where it goes from here.

 

[kyeugh]

i'm a sucker for beaten down characters picking themselves back up, so i thought i'd give this fic a look. i never did get around to reading land of the roses, so this is my first real plunge into your work—what better place to start than a new fic?

your setting caught my eye right away. archipelagos are always fun, especially for a pokémon setting, and the inspiration you've drawn from caribbean culture is interesting. i couldn't help but giggle at the name "kensacola," not because it's particularly silly, but because i live about a few hours east of a city called pensacola and it initially read to me as a riff on that. :p anyway, i'm excited to see how the setting influences the story! tropical settings really do it for me and the caribbean isn't so far from home, so that'll be fun.

broad-stroke thoughts on this first chapter: you do a good job at setting up your viewpoint character and sort of painting her situation concisely, although my impression was that it might have been too concise. the structure of this chapter is basically stephanie sitting in her room -> reflecting on her mom -> recalling her past -> listening to the voice mail -> considering her family situation -> getting out of her wheelchair. i think a lot of this information (particularly the bits about her past and family situation) is better revealed inline rather than in an expository, explanatory fashion. in this chapter, the story is more or less told to us directly through stephanie's thoughts, and this introspective recounting constitutes the bulk of the chapter.

given that most of the chapter is kind of outlining her backstory anyway, i wonder if you couldn't have just written the relevant bits outright instead rather than having stephanie explain them to the reader? like, put us in her shoes, maybe at the tail end of her journey, make us feel her frustration, jealousy, devastation. when reading, there's already a degree of separation between the reader and the events; having the narrator tell the story in a conversational way rather than putting us there is another degree of separation that makes the emotional moments hit a lot softer. stephanie's hospitalization would feel much lower after we experience her highs in the moment rather than retrospectively, and her recovery at the end of the chapter would feel all the more earned. given that this story seems to orbit around stephanie's recovery, i think we definitely could've benefited from a more involved dive into her background. but it's not a dealbreaker at all, and this story is still young! i guess we'll have to see how it unfolds.

some specific nitpicks/thoughts:

That night was not the night for that conversation.

this reads kind of clunky. i think you can just say "tonight" here.

In that year, I'd earned two badges from across the region -- most people still don't have their first badge by the end of their first year.

interesting! there was just a discussion in chat today about the length/scale of trainer journeys, and it seems like you're on the longer end of that spectrum. i wonder how that will color the pace of this fic going forward.

We had experience with being aware of our surroundings, thanks to a few encounters with petty criminals and pickpockets. For the most part, we had street sense, and knew when trouble was brewing around us.

these two sentences feel kind of redundant. i think you could probably rephrase the first one and it would flow better—the concept of being "experienced" in "being aware" seems sort of odd to me, since awareness is more of a passive attribute than something you can really hone experience in. maybe something like: "For the most part, we had street sense, and knew when trouble was brewing around us. After a few encounters with petty criminals and pickpockets, we were careful to remain perfectly aware of our surroundings."

When I was discharged from the hospital, I was completely broke, and not just in a physical or mental health sense: I didn't have a single bronze shell to my name.

omg, are bronze shells the local currency? i love that.

"Stephanie? It's been awhile since we've talked, and I wanted to check in on you.

Mel tells me that you're doing well. You've been getting out of the house, I hear! That's great! And apparently your mood has been improving, as well? That's also wonderful to hear! How are your legs doing? Mel tells me that Dr. Warner has said you've made a full recovery, yet you're still using your wheelchair..."

I uncomfortably fidgeted, digging my nails into the cushioned arm rest. Any harder and I might have broken one of them.

"That worries me, Steph. Your legs may be healed, but you're not progressing when it comes to your full recovery... Have you been skipping on your physical therapy sessions again? You know how important they are! I'm beginning to think that staying on Kensala Majora is the reason you've stopped making progress. Now that your legs are healed... It's time for you to come home. You have a loving family here, we can look after you! We can find out what's wrong and fix it, together! Mel has already started making arrangements for you to fly back home. I'd rather you come home now, since things obviously aren't working as well as they should, but she insists we wait a bit and try one more therapy session.

"Things will be simpler and easier when you come home. You'll be happier, safer, and your future will be more secure. You've always been welcome to come back and help out on the maple syrup plantation, and you still are. Heh, your brother is in over his head with the business expansions that your father started to make before he passed, he'd be happy to have your help with that! The plantation aside, you're also at the age where young women should really be settling down and starting a family, rather than getting yourself in trouble with all of your dangerous misadventures. If you wait any longer, that sweet boy Todd might go looking somewhere else...

"Anyways, I'm proud of everything you've achieved so far in your recovery, and I hope you continue to make progress! Call me back when you can, and remember: I love you."

this is a pretty long voicemail. don't they cap out at like a minute or something? i guess it doesn't really matter that much, but the thought occurred to me while i was reading and it kind of took me out of the flow for a moment, so i thought it was worth a mention. also, in that first line, you want "a while" rather than "awhile." it helps me to remember that "awhile" is an adverb that can be substituted for "for a while," so if doing that doesn't feel right (i.e. "It's been for a while."), you probably want "a while" instead.

For the first time in eight months, I was standing. On my own, no support! I was close at my last one, but I hadn't even achieved this in my physical therapy sessions! I looked up at that almost-full moon and made my decision: I was ready to take back my life and live it on my terms. I didn't know how or where to start again, or when I even could, but I was going to resume the journey that ended eight months ago.

I was terrified, but excited at the same time; those were my first steps on the long walk ahead of me.

given that stephanie has been sort of living off the support of others for a while, this is a nice and symbolic ending to the chapter! again, a mini-arc introducing stephanie and synth and the tail end of their adventure before it's cut tragically short would be good, and this would make a perfect ending to that arc, i think. but i digress. :p

solid stuff so far! regardless of my comments on the inclusion of a more in-depth exposition, you do a good job setting up the story for us with what you've got, and it's a fun premise. it's kind of your stock standard base for this type of trope, but that's okay—sticking to the books on this stuff is not a bad thing, and the setting is really interesting. i know this story's individuality will shine through as we progress, and stephanie seems like a protagonist who, despite her baggage, has a lot of attitude and a strong drive. i'm looking forward to seeing her as she interacts with the world you've built.

 

[Misfit Angel]

It did a good job of telling us the kind of person Mel is and you did a good job of showing us her mental turmoil in this brief prologue.

The main character is Steph/Stephanie, rather than Mel/Melissa, who is the lady that Stephanie is staying with. This is something I'll look over and see if I need to make more clear :)

or if there might have been some bitterness between them while the former was still alive

I hadn't thought about this way. I wonder if I can come up with some unfinished business between them.

i couldn't help but giggle at the name "kensacola," not because it's particularly silly, but because i live about a few hours east of a city called pensacola and it initially read to me as a riff on that. :p

Yeah, total accident on my part that it ended up being one letter off of Pensacola (and part of the region basically being Florida to boot!). I picked "Kensa" off a big list of brainstormed names that I've been sitting on for almost a decade and decided to add "cola" to it since it sounded like a tropical Spanish colony name and bam, I come up with a name that basically already exists :P

sucks that I got rid of all of the spanish influences in favor of portuguese in the end, now it makes less sense

i think a lot of this information (particularly the bits about her past and family situation) is better revealed inline rather than in an expository, explanatory fashion. in this chapter, the story is more or less told to us directly through stephanie's thoughts, and this introspective recounting constitutes the bulk of the chapter.

This is actually a very solid point, and something I may have to consider as I get into the next couple chapters, where her family situation comes up some more.

given that most of the chapter is kind of outlining her backstory anyway, i wonder if you couldn't have just written the relevant bits outright instead rather than having stephanie explain them to the reader? like, put us in her shoes, maybe at the tail end of her journey, make us feel her frustration, jealousy, devastation. when reading, there's already a degree of separation between the reader and the events; having the narrator tell the story in a conversational way rather than putting us there is another degree of separation that makes the emotional moments hit a lot softer. stephanie's hospitalization would feel much lower after we experience her highs in the moment rather than retrospectively, and her recovery at the end of the chapter would feel all the more earned.

I actually had a try at writing some of this, and none of it worked properly. I think the biggest issue I had is that I'm pretty bad at starting a story on a high point in a character's life. It feels like I'm cheating or skipping the build up, even if the point of the story is to yank that all away from them at some point.

None of it particularly worked, but I tried opening the story with the following:
- Stephanie and Synth just before they were set upon, planning Synth's challenge of the gym in the hours beforehand, to show what they were together.
- The brutal attack by the thugs. Not only did I have trouble with the process of writing it (I've already fallen in love with this character and nobody will hurt my precious baby), but starting the story with such brutal violence probably wouldn't have worked in its favor.
- Time spent in the hospital. That just didn't work for me. Hospital settings evoke very powerful and negative emotions for me, which distracted me from the writing process.

Writing is hit and miss, and while I think I got the points I wanted across, there's always room for improvement. :)

given that this story seems to orbit around stephanie's recovery, i think we definitely could've benefited from a more involved dive into her background. but it's not a dealbreaker at all, and this story is still young! i guess we'll have to see how it unfolds.

Stay posted! Without spoiling anything, an upcoming chapter (hopefully the next one, but possibly the one after that depending on how long the scene I'm writing now ends up) sees her in a position where she has to confront what happened to her in a more head to head manner. I might be able to sneak in some flashbacks or something similar.

this reads kind of clunky. i think you can just say "tonight" here.

I'm actually unsure of this one. I dunno if you saw my frequent lamentations on Discord of finding it difficult to stay in one tense within first person writing, but this specific instance was one I agonized over. "Tonight" just feels kinda weird in a story that's being told from a past perspective.

As far as clunky, clunky might be something to get used to. I'm writing this from the character's voice, which is basically my IRL voice. One of the big things about me is that I no talk proper like even IRL, so this stuff just kinda bleeds into my writing. Yes, talking to me is a chore for most people, which is why I don't talk when I don't have to

interesting! there was just a discussion in chat today about the length/scale of trainer journeys, and it seems like you're on the longer end of that spectrum. i wonder how that will color the pace of this fic going forward.

I'm actually not sure yet! I figure she already has a lot of the knowhow and expertise, and it just comes down to building and training her new team. Timewise, I'll probably weigh in on the side of longer, since I'm still trying to get over the fact that I smushed 40 chapters of action and intrigue into three weeks in my original run of Land of the Roses and absolutely hated that sense of time scale.

maybe something like: "For the most part, we had street sense, and knew when trouble was brewing around us. After a few encounters with petty criminals and pickpockets, we were careful to remain perfectly aware of our surroundings."

you probably want "a while" instead.

(y)

omg, are bronze shells the local currency? i love that.

Yep! It's more or less the same as other currencies in my settings, going from 100 bronze -> 1 silver, 20 silver -> 1 gold. I'm not sure yet if it's round coins with a shell scallop shell featured on them, or a scallop shape in general. Probably a small detail that doesn't need to be decided.

 

[Misfit Angel]

Undefeatable
Chapter 1: My Decision​

I'd already made a choice of my own, but would others let me have it? The next step in resuming my journey was convincing those around me that I was ready for it. Maybe I even had to convince myself. After eight months of depression and more or less being a vegetable, doing so was likely to be more difficult than I initially imagined.

- - - - -​

"I must have been in worse shape than I realized..." I mumbled to myself. I was seated in my wheelchair in front of Synth's vanity, tugging at my hair with a comb, trying to get some particularly nasty knots out.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the past week had kind of blurred together. When I got home from last week's physical therapy session, my ego was battered and bruised. I was indeed close to finally standing on my own two feet again, but the fact that I didn't achieve it was immensely disappointing, and I took it pretty hard. Other than bathroom visits, that was the last time I left Synth's bedroom. I didn't even realize it, but I was staring into the abyss, and maybe I was even close to jumping in. But feeling that cool wooden balcony under my feet last night woke me up; I had to pick up the pieces and put myself back together, or I was never going to get my life going again.

I only had one life, better make it count, right?

Putting myself back together was an insurmountable task. Even getting a week's worth of tangles out of my hair was starting to frustrate me! Imagine it: learning to walk again. Building up my confidence. Being able to enjoy the public world again. Living my life without fear that something bad would happen to me just because I left a bedroom. But, you have to start somewhere... You need to walk before you -- no, crawl before you can walk.

Nearly half an hour had passed since I started. By the time I was done, I was surprised I had any hair left on my head at all, I'd pulled out so much of it! I still looked reasonably presentable, but my hair was only part of it. Next came my clothes. I wheeled myself over to the dresser and took a deep breath before I opened the top drawer. Despite forcing myself to see them on a daily basis by that point, it still brought forward a surge of painful memories; on the left side were some of Synth's old clothes: a delicate sundress covered in floral designs, a gaudy magenta tank top, ripped white jeans and other... 'fun' stuff.

Fun hadn't been my style since I was a kid, so I looked to the right side for my own clothes. My wardrobe consisted of airy blouses in pale colors, such as mint, baby blue, pastel pink and my favorite, plain old white, as well as form-fitting knitted sweaters and vests, mostly navy blue and black. The next drawer down was stuffed to the brim with pair after pair of black khakis -- picking a color was always such a difficulty! Atop the dresser was, for some bizarre reason, the most controversial part of my appearance: a selection of three ties -- red, black and navy blue -- as well as a black bow tie.

People always gave me shit about the way I dress. Admittedly, I stuck out like a sore thumb on Kensala. Everyone else was always running around in tank tops, shorts, flirty short dresses or sometimes just completely topless -- not the worst sight to see, I digress -- and there I am, looking like I'm ready to teach privileged children at a boarding school. 'You're such a square!' people would say. But this is who I am, even if it is uncomfortable sometimes in this climate.

With a wobble, I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked... good. Sharp. Most importantly, I looked serious, and I felt like that was what I needed if I was going to approach the Wards about my plan to resume my journey. I balanced my collar, adjusted my tie and made some last minute adjustments to my hair, then slowly made my way out of the room. As I entered the hallway, I could hear the familiar sounds of the KBC's morning newscast coming from the kitchen, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee was thick in the air.

I took my first step into the kitchen, and Synth's mother -- Melissa -- dropped her mug of coffee, spilling it all over the table, her lap and the floor.

"Oh my god! Stephanie!" she shouted. Her voice quivered and her eyes widened.

"Good morning," I said.

Behind the sprawled out newspaper was Synth's father, Damian. Without a beat, without even checking to see the damage his wife had done when she dropped her coffee, he simply greeted me, "Morning, Stephanie." Outside of those two words, he didn't even acknowledge my presence. It wasn't particularly unusual -- he always seemed pretty detached from me over the past year -- but that was the one morning where his attention was almost necessary.

"Damian, put that newspaper down and look at her!" Melissa crowed.

He lowered his newspaper and looked in my direction. His eyes widened as well when they met mine. "Well holy shit, look at that! You're on your feet!"

"Mhmm! Still a little wobbly, but... I'm walking again! I spent a couple hours practicing last night... I'm sure you heard me fall over a few times."

"It's so wonderful to see you on your feet again! This is the progress your mother has been waiting for!"

I laughed and raised my hands in a shrug. "What about the progress I've been waiting for?" I took a seat at the table across from the two, grabbed one of the free mugs from the center of the table, and poured myself a steaming cup of coffee. "I'm sure she'll be happy to hear that I've made my first steps since... you know. But I don't know if she'll be really happy."

She tilted her head to the side in what felt like a condescending way. Surely she already knew, but she asked anyways. "What do you mean?"

"Well, last night was... I think it woke me up. My mother called last night and told me that I'm going home. The decision had already been made, without my approval or even talking to me about it. She said I'm not making enough progress, which is probably fair of her to say, but... I want to stay here on Kensala!"

"Don't you miss your family?"

I took in a deep breath and held it for a brief moment, as I was unsure my answer would be received well. "Uhh... Kinda, but not really? I wasn't very happy when I was living with my parents. They already had ideas of what I should do with my life, and it was the source of a lot of needless strain and stress. Going back now would just be more of the same, and considering the life I've lived since I came here, would probably just make things worse."

"Well... That's something you're going to have to talk to her about. She's already started making preparations for you to go home."

"Yeah, she mentioned that. She..." I bit my tongue. I was about to bring up the fact that Melissa was also in on my mother's plan to send me home against my will, but thought to myself: what good would that really accomplish? It'd cause an argument at the very least, and likely show that I was more trouble than I was worth... I had to show that I wasn't. "Before I talk to her about it, I want to talk to you guys about it."

Damian lowered his newspaper again and stared at his watch. "What's on your mind?"

I lowered my eyes and stared into that steaming mug of coffee. "It might take awhile to get started again, but... I want to resume my challenge of the Kensacola League, and I want to dedicate my performances to Synth's memory."

For the third time, Damian lowered his newspaper, only this time putting it down and onto the table. I couldn't quite read his reaction; his blank expression gave no hints of whether he approved or not. Melissa on the other hand was much easier to read. I could tell right away that she disapproved. Not out of anger that I was making a bad decision, but uncertainty. I can't say I blamed her.

"Steph, I don't think that's a good idea. It nearly got you killed, and that was when you were at your strongest. You can barely walk!"

"That's why I said it'll take time. I don't intend to just walk down to Angel Bay tomorrow or anything like that --"

"Did you make this decision to avoid going home for a few more months?"

...She may have been right about that. I didn't want to admit it to them, but I realized that I did make my decision while riding a wave of emotion; anger at my mother for trying to steal me away again, sorrow over what happened to me and Synth, disappointment that my recovery wasn't progressing, and fear that my future was in danger of being taken from me.

"Maybe a little? I do want to do this for more reasons than just having an excuse to not go home... That was my life, my passion and my dream that was taken from me, and I want to take it back. I don't want to be defeated by a setback like that. If I'm going to be defeated at all, I want it to be because my best efforts weren't good enough. Not because I got sucker punched by some thug."

A slight smirk appeared on Damian's face. "Look at that, she's still got some fire in her."

"I'm not sure that's something to celebrate, considering everything that's happened to her..."

"If you're saying we should snuff out that flame... Look, Stephanie's a legal adult. A bright young lady. This decision is rightfully hers to make."

"What if it's the wrong decision to make? We can't ignore the fact that if she goes on this journey again, she'll be going back to the east side of the island..."

"What is it with everyone trying to take my decisions away from me? Why am I not entitled to do what I want with my life, and learn from any mistakes I make?" I demanded. I got no answers. "Maybe I have learned a thing or two about the east side of the island that'll have me more prepared now. Besides, who knows? I might not even stick to it. I plan to take small steps first, and I might see that I'm in over my head. I'm prepared to call it quits if I am, and even considering going back home. But if I do stick to it, things will be different this time. I won't make the same mistakes."

I could almost see the gears whirring away in her head, and she eventually sighed. "If you're serious about this, we're going to need to speak to your mother about it. Probably a therapist, too, to make sure you're not making a decision for the wrong reasons."

"And speak to a therapist about your stubbornness, Mel!" We all could have used the lighter mood from Damian's unexpected joke, though Melissa didn't seem to take it quite as well as we did.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather talk to my mother about this myself. I know you don't agree with my decision, so... I don't want that conversation being two against one. Hope you understand."

"That's fair enough, I suppose..."

Damian reached for his mug of coffee and downed the rest of it in several greedy gulps. "Right! Gotta go, the shop floor won't run itself..." He leaned over in my direction and wrapped his massive hand around my shoulder. With a heavy shake, he told me, "You're a strong girl, Stephanie. Don't let your mother bully you. Good luck."

I offered a smile. "Thank you. I'll try."

- - - - -​

I waited until that afternoon to make the call home. Not because I needed time to prepare what I was going to say -- I'd already written down a few notes before I went to bed the previous night -- but because I was scared. Phone calls are bad enough on their own, but one that would define my future for better or most likely for worse? Suddenly, jumping off that balcony to my doom didn't seem like the worst idea...

When someone has already made a decision for you, and then built plans off of that decision, and probably already spent money on it, how do you tell them that you're not going to do what they ask of you? I spent about an hour wrestling with that question, and I'd made no progress towards finding the answer. My mother already decided that I'm returning home to our lovely little cabin in Susqanna Falls, to tend to the maple trees and settle down into a boring life bereft of any interest or adventure... but why should I? I'm an adult, I can take care of myself... I think.

I shook my legs like pendulums as I sat in my wheelchair.

Okay, maybe I couldn't take care of myself. Not fully. But I had the drive to reach that point, and that's what counted, right?

Just thinking that pushed me to finally hit the call button on those numbers that had been punched in for nearly an hour. Before the first ring had even finished, my mother picked up the phone. I was always fascinated by how quick she was; she must have been a witch.

"Hello?"

"Hi mom."

"Stephanie! How are you?"

"Better than most days, I think! Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"I guess Melissa didn't call ahead and tell you?"

"No. I haven't heard from her. What's happening?"

"Here, let me show you. Gonna turn on my cam, you watching?"

"Uhh... Let's see... I remember how to do this!" she murmured. Eventually a video feed of her face popped up in the corner of my screen. She appeared to be in the middle of wandering the plantation back home. Moderate snow accumulation on the ground flooded the image of her with a bright and harsh white, a sharp contrast from the heat wave baking Port Fortune at the moment.

"Gimme a second!" I pleaded. I placed my phone down onto the table beside me, giving her a view of the thoroughly uninteresting white ceiling of Synth's room, then pushed myself out of the wheelchair. I was more wobbly than I wanted for this display, but it would have to do. I picked my phone back up and slowly started to angle it downward -- first my chest came into view, followed by my belly, then my hips and finally, the pièce de résistance, my legs.

Her face lit up like a holiday tree and she nearly fell over, catching her balance against the shed behind her. "By the Prophet..."

"Yep! I'm standing on my own!" I happily confirmed. "Even better, watch this..." I took my first step forward, and then the next until I was outside on the balcony, out into the shining sunlight and blazing heat. I angled the camera around to show her a view of the city from my vantage point. "I still have a ways to go, but I took my first independent steps last night. No support bars needed!"

"Steph, that's wonderful! When I called last night, I was beginning to worry that you'd given up hope... And now I see how wrong I was!"

"Well, that call was what inspired me to try. Nothing like a call from you to light a fire under my ass. Like usual."

Warmth radiated from her face as a smile appeared on it.

I hated to put that smile in jeopardy, but it was time to stand my ground. "So, umm... We do need to talk about stuff, don't we?"

"Yes, we do. I hoped to get to it last night while I had the paperwork in front of me, but... I've been shopping around and have picked out your flight ho--"

Fuck! She already did spend money...

"Mom, slow down," I interrupted. "We need to talk, not just you, and I have to say something first. I'm scared to say it, because I know you're not going to like it, but... I'm not ready to go home. Not yet!"

Her expression darkened, enough so that I rushed to turn my camera off to avoid seeing it. She sighed heavily, and I could tell she was annoyed. Very annoyed, and I couldn't blame her. "Of course you're not. You always say that, and I always give you more time. Unless you can give me a very good reason why you're not coming back, I'm not going to do that this time. You've been making decisions lately that actively harm your recovery, and I can't stand aside and let you do that to yourself anymore."

Oh boy. If missing one or two physical therapy sessions because I was stuck in bed with depression was a bad choice, she certainly wasn't going to like the reasons I wanted to stay.

"I've not been making the fastest recovery, I admit that. But I think I just displayed that my recovery is going to speed up considerably!"

"Which you can do here at home."

"I could, but... Kensala Majora is a relaxing environment. It's paradise!" I answered back. "Well, the western portions are, at least."

"Susqanna Falls is paradise as well!"

I suppose she wasn't wrong about that, but it was a different kind of paradise... One that didn't necessarily agree with me. The scenery was peaceful, the people were nice and the bounty of nature was nearly limitless, but Susqanna Falls was also very far north and experienced long and bitter winters. Outside of the odd icy attack in my Pokémon battles, I hadn't seen snow in person in almost two years, and frankly I wasn't interested in seeing it again so soon.

"But it also gets cold there, and winter's not over yet. I'm enjoying the weather here."

"That's not a good reason to avoid coming home, Steph. If that's your only reason, I am profoundly disappointed in your stubborn and spoiled behavior. I didn't raise you to be like this."

Okay. You want to play that way? Time to just get this over with.

"Another big reason I want to stay here is that I want to try to resume my journey now that I'm in the final stage of my recovery."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments, until I heard a sharp inhale. I could tell that she was fighting back tears over what I just said, and to be honest, I felt pretty bad about that...

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that. That's your real reason, isn't it? Not because Kensala is a paradise, or because you think you'll recover quickly now, but because you're just too stubborn to give up."

That was half of it, and probably the easier half for her to accept. I debated with myself over telling her that I also didn't want to go home because I didn't want to fall back into that old and simplistic lifestyle I left behind, but... That would have been too much to hear, I think. Despite me and my mother's differences in opinions and lifestyles, and how much I moan and groan about her, I'm not heartless and I wasn't ready to shatter her into pieces.

"I know it seems insane, but... I had so much taken away from me, mom. My hopes, my dreams, my confidence... Not to mention my best friend. I need a chance to reach out and take back what I can before I leave this place, or I'm going to have a very rough time adjusting to life back in the Republic."

Another of her sighs followed, as did another prolonged moment of silence. "I think I can understand that feeling, Steph. Or at least I can imagine it... Last night was eight months to the day, right?"

"It was."

"It must be a very emotional time for you... A lot is going through your heart and your mind right now, isn't it?"

"Yeah..."

"What's really telling you to do this? Your heart or your mind? It's possible that you're getting swept up in your emotions again, Steph."

"I thought about that earlier... I'm not really sure. Mel suggested that I book an appointment with Dr. Schweitzer to help me figure that out."

"That sounds like a good idea." There was a long pause on the line before she finally spoke up in a sheepish tone. "Do you intend to ever come back home?"

"Sure!" I answered confidently, despite not being as confident as I sounded. "If things go according to plan, it could be awhile, but I eventually will... The Divine Republic isn't all bad! I just..." I wanted to choose my words carefully, or I risked spilling the beans on the other reason I didn't want to go home, the reason I felt would have just killed her heart completely. I settled on a soft lie. "I just... enjoy my life here a little too much to give it up right now."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, Stephanie, but please, hear me out?"

"I'll listen."

"I've kept quiet about it for the most part, but I worry that you've been taken from us -- not taken as in you've been killed, obviously. But... Taken from the path we all share, away from your brothers and sisters of the faith. I worry that we'll never see you on that path again. I may not be as worldly as some other people and my experience is limited, but I do know the reputation that Kensala has as a land of cruelty, cynicism, greed, and vice. The stories that I hear from Mel and her friends concern me greatly."

She was spot on about that, it was a bit of a culture shock when I came here. I was scared for my safety when I saw my first mugging, shortly after leaving the airport. The level of abject poverty that was visible almost everywhere was unsettling. The fact that there's a brothel operating just two blocks away in the middle of Port Fortune still makes me a little uneasy. Drugs flow through the streets like water, leaving all sorts of squalor and hopelessness in their wake. But... I'd gotten used to it all, I guess? Maybe that's what she meant all those times she said I was being led astray; these are symptoms of a society in agony, and I was getting used to it...

"Thankfully you've been safe cooped up in the Wards' home over the past few months. But now you intend to go back out into the darkness? That terrifies me more than you could imagine, Steph. Port Fortune may look like a nice place from above on that balcony, but it's all a trick. An illusion. Danger lurks in every alley, and people hide their true intentions behind crooked smiles. Outside of the city, it's even worse -- and don't even try to tell me it's not true, because you've experienced all of these things yourself! You only ever escaped all of that danger because you were stronger than you are now. Without that strength... I worry about your future, and it's why I want you to come home."

I could sense a crack forming. All throughout my childhood and teenage years, my mother -- and the various clergy of the faith -- always told me and my siblings that it wasn't our strength that kept our lives in order, it was the strength and will of our Divine Creator. His -- or Her, though I personally prefer His -- plan was all we needed, and now suddenly my personal strength was a variable in that holiest of equations. For a woman of such unshakeable faith to say something like that was... kinda heartbreaking? It also told me just how much she wanted me to go home, which made my decision to stubbornly resist her demand a lot more difficult.

"Mom, please. I've not abandoned my faith. Maybe I haven't taken it as seriously as I promised I would, but... I still feel the Divine Creator's light. It's why I'm still alive, isn't it?"

"Yes..."

"My experience eight months ago has taught me that maybe I should take my faith a little more seriously, so I promise to do that. But, about strength of body... I know that I am in no position to go stomping across the island as if nothing has happened. When I took my first steps last night, I quickly realized that my legs are in poor shape. I fell when I practiced my walking -- a lot. This journey I intend to resume, it isn't going to start tomorrow, or even next week. I'm going to take baby steps to see if I'm even capable of it. If I'm not capable, then it's time to go back home -- and that's a promise. I just want a chance to take back everything that's been taken from me. Is that too much to ask?"

"I suppose you deserve that much, after everything you've been through. Just... be careful? And please, don't push yourself too hard to prove yourself. If you're not able to do what you want, there's no shame in admitting defeat."

What in the blazes? She was actually encouraging me, just after calling me a spoiled bitch and telling me that I was on the road to damnation? I can never read this lady, I swear.

"I should get back to work... I still have to start on dinner as well, your sisters are coming over for dinner! Maybe you could call back later and we could all have a family get together?"

"I think I could do that!" I answered. I kinda didn't want to, but... family is family, right? At the very least, I wanted to stay on my mother's good side by humoring her, and this seemed like a good opportunity. Besides... Having a chance to catch up with Jessica, Tiffany and Alenya, talk about their lives as housewives and see my nieces and nephews would certainly motivate me even more to stay here on Kensala, heh!

"Thank you for talking to me about this, Steph. I disagree with and I'm disappointed in your decision, but you don't know how happy I am that you didn't blow off this discussion, like you have so many times in the past."

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad am I?"

"Well... I wasn't going to say it!" she said with a laugh. "Good luck on your recovery! Let me know how things go?"

"I will."

"Good bye. I love you."

"You too, mom."

And with that, my phone went silent. The whole world around me did...

Well! That conversation went better than I expected. Despite her numerous and egregious shortfalls as both a mother and a compassionate human being, maybe I assume the worst of my mother too easily... Hell, maybe even that assessment of her character was a little too harsh... But I did still have to show that I was capable of doing this, or it really would be time to go home, and that conversation didn't do enough to convince me it'd be a good idea. It was time to book an appointment with Dr. Schweitzer...

 

[kintsugi]

It's not like I hated hearing from my mother

That lucky shot is still going to get him right in the head, and there's nothing that'll save him. What do I mean by that?

Your tenses get (understandably) confused this chapter -- there's the main story, which is told in past tense, and then the backstory, which is further in the past, but is this purposefully in the present tense because the whole story is actually being retold at a later date?

That night was eight months to the day

dropped an 'ago' here I think

region -- most

yay

I was only there, pushed away into the background, because I was her travel buddy.

This is a really interesting bit to me in particular -- usually travel buddies progress through the region at the same rate, so the fact that Synth has more than twice as many badges is unusual. Did they split up at some point while Steph got more badges?

my bank account was emptied by my lengthy hospital stay.

ah, the true antagonist, prohibitively expensive healthcare, rears its head again. curious to see how this interacts with a world where training is common -- presumably pokemon treatment would have to be relatively inexpensive and also highly advanced for battling to be sustainable at all, in which case human medtech would probably follow suit? maybe?

Every now and then I'd read from it and be reminded of how much she valued her life, how often she laughed at her goofy life experiences, and how much she loved the world and the people around her despite their numerous faults.

I like the situation you set up here. Steph is clearly going through some trauma, and she's not exactly in the best space for it (physically and mentally). It makes sense that she'd be frustrated and confused here, and I think you illustrate those concepts well, but these lines feel really flat to me. It's like reading an obituary for someone instead of having a personal, undiluted look into their inner narrative of their childhood best friend dying -- these all feel trite and impersonal, descriptors that could be applied to anyone. First person is for being really emotionally involved, but Steph's thoughts on Synth in particular feel very distant. The bits earlier about her boy band posters feel more personal, but overall they end up getting drowned out by Steph's inner monologue throughout this chapter and I'm left with no understanding of who Synth was supposed to be, or even who Steph thinks Synth was supposed to be.

Which? Maybe is part of the point here? Stephanie's interactions and thoughts for Synth's parents sort of suggest that she isn't... the most empathetic towards a pair of people who lost their only daughter in a tragic murder, so maybe part of the arc is Steph coming to terms with how well she does or doesn't know Synth at all.

"Anyways, I'm proud of everything you've achieved so far in your recovery, and I hope you continue to make progress! Call me back when you can, and remember: I love you."

I like the emotions you convey between Steph and her mom here -- there's a lot of really good projected dread and guilt here. I agree with qva that this felt way too long for a voicemail, and the paragraph of "things will be simpler and easier" felt like too much exposition. If she's been away from home for eight months, surely these topics have come up before?

Sheep. That is literally what people of our faith happily called themselves, and it always amused me that nobody ever seemed to see the irony in that.

Not clear what your system of organized religion will be here, but if it's based on the groups that currently refer to their followers as flocks, I think that's based on the Bible stories about shepherd and flock -- but they at most use "flock" and rarely use "flock of sheep", because most people, like Steph, recognize that self-referring as animals, especially sheep, sounds dumb as hell.

Am also! Very curious! About how organized religion develops in a world where gods are real. Do they have parables? Would those parables even refer to sheep at all or would the timeline have been such that organized religion wouldn't have developed when shepherding was still a common profession?

In broad strokes I like how you portray Stephanie here. In a word I would call her angry -- she's angry at the people who hospitalized her, she's angry at her mom, she's angry at the world; most of all, she's angry at herself. I like that you show how her anger blinds her -- she shits on her mom's ideas for her life because that would end with Steph sitting around doing nothing, while Steph has also spent a non-trivial time sitting around doing nothing -- and in her case she's very rightly justified to have done so, but that particular criticism on her mom's religion struck me as heavily ironic. I have a much more clear understanding of Steph's anger and hatred for the "thugs" who attacked her and Synth than I do for Steph's love for Synth, because ultimately Steph's fixated on them, not Synth. She's obsessed with how distressed with how Synth's room makes her feel, but she doesn't really consider the emotional weight that her living with Synth's parents, in her room, has on a couple that had their (only?) daughter brutally murdered less than a year ago -- and the way she treats them in the next chapter definitely hammers that home. And all of this culminates into Steph deciding to say fuck it, get back up, and get back into the ring out of sheer spite. She touches on the ideas of being Synth's legacy, but I struggle to buy it -- from the focuses of this chapter it really feels more like she's mad at herself and she's projected it on everyone else, and I'm really looking forward to how you dig into that dynamic.

(Side note, didn't really have a good place for it, but what exactly were the attackers after? Steph gets knocked out almost immediately, so presumably they take her money/stuff; maybe Synth puts up a fight and she gets killed by mistake, but then they go back and break both three of Steph's limbs while she's unconscious for shits and giggles? Or if we go for the alternative, where these are fsr just a bunch of evil gangsters who go around murderkilling people because they are evil, then Steph surviving is also unrealistic -- if they want to kill tourists, then they did a really shitty job lol. Also really curious to see how you want to make organized and non-organized crime function in a world with pokemon -- people mug people because their victims are unlikely to be able to defend themselves; attacking a trainer with your bare hands is really, really risky and dumb. Interested to see what happens when they crop up again.)

Qva made some good comments about this chapter's pacing that I'm generally seconding -- a lot of this chapter was expository and I don't know if it needed to be (and it also makes everything feel really removed; see notes above about grief re: Synth). It's a complex topic to tackle and I admit I didn't expect her to make such a hard 180 from lying in bed all day to suddenly deciding to walk for the first time in eight months -- and the fact that most of this chapter is focused on the past/all the reasons Steph wouldn't walk, rather than the recovery, made that even more jarring.

I know you mentioned trying to start this story further in the past and not having it work, and I do think those would be awkward spots to start in because of the requisite timeskips after -- I almost wonder if it would be better to start later, when Steph is already on the journey V2, and introducing these struggles more gradually across it as we dive into precisely why this is journey V2 instead of V1.

Also didn't have a good section for this, but your fake regions are fun and I'm looking forward to seeing what tricks you've got in this one!

 

[Pen]

I'm intrigued by the set-up you have here of a trainer who's already tried a pokemon journey once making the journey a second time, with a load more emotional baggage. Definitely not a set-up I've seen crop up before.

Qva and kintsugi's reviews already touch upon some of the main concerns that cropped up for me reading--namely, that we get a ton of exposition combined with a character deciding to make a life-altering decision with no real trigger. The chapter is so focused with conveying the necessary context and backstory, that I'm not getting a great sense of who our protagonist is. She's clearly angry, upset, and has a bad relationship with her family, but I don't get much of a sense of her as a person. She seems to be a bit of a follower, at least in relation to Synth, but sounds independent-minded as relates to her family's religion and gender role prescriptions. Her decision also comes out of nowhere to me.

If you haven't had any success in starting the story somewhere else, one way to make this lying in bed and thinking stuff be a bit more grounded could be to focus more on physicality--start with her attempts to stand and walk, and have the thoughts follow from the actions, rather than opening with her lying in bed.

The narrative voice throughout struck me as odd for a first-person POV situation. Her thoughts are fairly ordered and clinical even though this must be something that's really hanging over on her. Take [we were swarmed by ruthless gangsters. That's pretty much the last thing I remember... I remember reaching for one of my Pokéballs before being grabbed and thrown against the wall... and then I woke up in a hospital on the other side of the island, several days later. ] I don't find this particularly convincing as a traumatic experience someone had lived through. What were she and Synth talking about as they walked, when did they first notice something was wrong? The flash of a knife? The cocking of a gun or the flash of a pokeball? Did the gangsters approach them from the front or the back? Did they say anything or attack in silence? Did it hurt when she hit the wall, and where?

I'd also like a bit more context on why they were attacked, whether it's normal for muggings to turn violent, why Synth was killed when the MC wasn't. Is the idea that they killed Synth because she fought back?

I told myself that I'd remember the positives of my friendship with Synth, but they were drowned out easily by the horrors I'd experienced that night, and in the following weeks. Those memories were starting to drown me.

This falls a bit into telling not showing because we are getting her first-person narration, but the memories don't really seem to be drowning her. She presents what happened clearly, sequentially, and analytically. I would expect non-sequential memories, things being recalled more by association. This narration doesn't give me the sense of someone who is drowning in bad memories.

I stared up into the starry sky. In hindsight, that wasn't the best idea. It wasn't a full moon that night, but it was just a day off from one. It brought back memories of when Synth came to visit me back in my childhood home of Susqanna Falls.

This bit, for example. This is associative, but there's so much distance put in by the "in hindsight" and "it brought back memories." It would feel more immediate to say something like, "I stared up into the starry sky. The moon wasn't full, but would be in a day or so. The moon had been full when Synth came to visit me two years ago at Susquanna Falls. For hours she talked my ear off--she was going on a wonderful journey, through a wonderful island, and it would be so much better if I came too. We sat out on the balcony under the full moon, sipping my mom's overly sweet lemonade. When I finally told her yes, she didn't say anything, but turned to me with a smile that lit her face brighter than the moon."

I'm just making stuff up here, because from what we have now, I'm not sure how this interaction would have gone down. How does Synth sell it? Why does the MC agree? What was Synth's reaction when she did so? Having the memory fleshed out in that way would show their relationship a lot more clearly than the protag making vague statements about what their relationship was like. (Also, from the descriptions we are given about Synth, she strikes me as more bubbly than cool and analytical--adjectives like cute, colorful, goofy crop up to describe her.)

My Pokémon, my backpack, my money, my innocence... even Synth herself.

reminding me of her youthful innocence.

These invocations of innocence struck me a pretty strange. "Youthful innocence" doesn't sound like the way someone of the same age would describe their dead friend.

Ugh, starting a family? She thinks that's the panacea that'll bring me happiness? Is she fucking kidding me? I can't even imagine it! How would that even do the trick? Wake up next to some hairy ape every morning, fix him breakfast, pick up his dirty clothes, listen to his problems and keep the house clean and orderly, all while I pat my expanding belly and count down the days until my next child is born? Fuck. That.

There's a lot more passion in this diatribe than we get about Synth, which seems a bit odd.

I'd have to dedicate my performances to Synth's memory. She's the person who set me on that path, the person who inspired me, and the person who pushed me when I made my early mistakes and considered quitting. She never gave up on me, even at the very end.

This doesn't really convince me. She almost makes devoting her performance to Synth sound like a necessary burden. Maybe she doesn't actually like Synth much? There's definitely a strong vibe of 'I'm always in your shadow' and that could create an interesting ambivalence, especially when she's staying with Synth's family. Drawing out more some resentment for Synth and maybe some corresponding self-loathing for feeling that way could provide a compelling internal tension.