lichhen
gay
- Pronouns
- he/they/ze
- Partners
-
holAAA friends. i don't really have folks to share my writing with right now, and i've been wondering if my pokemon fanfic is becoming comprehensible at all.
i guess i feel really self-conscious because, with writing, i've done mostly self education. my experience in academics and in writing groups seems to be that my ideas take more explaining than i realize? or perhaps just don't make sense. i'd love some feedback to know if this story makes sense as a pokemon fanfic, or if there is a direction i could go to improve. i feel like i have taken quite a bit of liberty with anything canon.
i want to share an excerpt of this fanfic idea, which i hope helps illustrate what it's supposed to be all about. if i should share more, then i will, i just don't want to share too much and be boring and convoluted.
this excerpt starts in the middle of chapter one.
We’ll Meet At The Lighthouse | A Romantic Pokemon Adventure
summary:
Bill Sonezaki, of PC fame, and gym leader Surge were involved in the creation of Mewtwo - and Mewtwo had more than just one explosive incident during development.
slowburn Bill x Surge
based loosely on Bill and Surge’s (very few) interactions in the Pokemon Special manga
the light is where not to go.
additional tags:
au, utopian speculative fiction, characters have been altered in many ways, for example many characters use wheelchairs and it’s not always stated immediately, and other character traits, challenge assumptions or whatever, this is 300 years into the future so identity and expression is gonna be different, there is a happy ending, astronomy, heavy astronomy references that i try to explain enough to make sense, futuristic setting inspired by the pokemon world, the setting’s history draws from “real world” history, pokemon worldbuilding, pokemon lore, realistic pokemon, gender expansive characters, disabled characters, slow burn, dwarfism, nonverbal characters, wheelchair users, part-time wheelchair users, ambulatory wheelchair users, fat characters, trans characters
........................
Chapter One: A Cepheid Variable, page 2
summary: It’s morning for Bill and the pokemon who live at the Sea Cottage. Surge is there to meet him.
......
“Yarp!”
Among the large rocks decorating the kitchen counters and backsplash, another dwebble unfolded in a palmful of tiny red fingers.
"Thanks to y’all for running the cottage with those acoustic waves of yours," Bill said. “You been out watching the stars tonight? Spot your familiar cepheid flickers?”
Dwebble shuffled along. The radio emanated as Bill poured coffee into his #1 BABY BOSS mug.
"...scandal of the year. Dr. Oyèrónkẹ́ Fuji, former Director of the National Institute of Genetics, has not been heard from for four months now after the Institute’s break-in and the doctor’s home was found abandoned, robbed and vandalized…' 'Well, the doctor did have reasons to disappear.' 'You mean they had enemies.' 'I mean, you don't become one of the greatest medical doctors in the world without someone deciding to dislike you…'”
“What the fuecoco are we listening to..?” Bill took a sip of the coffee. It was black and scorching. It ran a trail of fire down his throat and sucked him all into one point of bursting matter; it reminded him of twilight with his grandparents and Abra and their mugs of almond cream coffee.
He chased it with a swig of lukewarm water and gasped afterward. Dwebble tittered at him, warming herself by the coffee pot.
A window spanned almost the entire kitchen wall. Through it, the world was still fading black, a stroke of sky glowing with stars, aircraft, and satellites.
He gazed into the desaturated, purple night, reflected in the swirl of his coffee.
For as long as he could remember, he had been at the whim of an erratic drive to create, to ask, to climb. There were periods when the ravenous desire calmed, and many periods moreover where he could hardly get himself out of bed.
His grandparents got him through his childhood in Goldenrod, Johto. Whenever he went over, his grandmom and Kadabra would show him how to use the telescope to find cepheid variable stars, stars that flicker in a reliable pattern. You could use them to tell where you were in the universe relative to other stars, the time they dim and the amount of brightness directly relative to its distance and place in time. They would also give Bill their clothes in piles on his bed at their house. His grammy, grandmom’s wife, would make battered vegetables with gooey centers, tomato steak with mayonnaise sandwiches, and all kinds of coffee with a latte machine and a cabinet full of syrups. Eevee would spare Bill the task of eating everything by himself. His grandparents’ walls were covered in cases and frames of Bill’s and their other grandchildrens' creations. Science projects, art projects, photos documenting their smallest accomplishments. Mostly things that haunted him with embarrassment.
When Bill moved to the Sea Cottage, in a hidden cove a three hour drive from the nearest gas station, he struggled much less with getting out of bed. The change occurred immediately after the move from where he used to live, deep in central Vermillion. Now, for the first time in his life since adulthood, he got up to sustain and to create. To see the flickering stars at each twilight. He achieved career success, finally, after living hell in academics. He could find the cepheids even without a telescope, because no artificial light could reach the Cottage. The sky opened to the unfiltered galaxy, its cloudy core always loud and clear.
Eevee wanted Bill to join them for a star-gazing walk; that was usually their intention when they crooned at him while taking a step or two towards the back porch door.
“Not now, honey,” he said as he shrugged on a jacket. "I'm working with Nidorino today. You can join me on my walk to her lighthouse, though, if you don't mind waiting and missin’ the blink of a few cepheids. ‘Least you’ll still have the shadow, though, right darlin’?"
You’ll have the shadow. Bill could hear Eevee return the colloquialism they picked up from Kadabra and grandmom.
Eevee flicked their tail, picked up Dwebble and disappeared through the front flap door.
"Thought so." Bill stepped into his power chair. He strapped himself in and lowered it into a seated position, grabbing a lid for his coffee.
Nothing made Bill happier than to settle down in his custom chair and ease into his current project, often traveling the mountains and beaches that smothered the sea cottage, to meet with pokemon who had answers and better questions.
Before he opened the back door to leave, he looked up. "Abra? You and the laptop ready to go?"
Silence.
“C’mon y’all,” Bill groaned, glancing around.
"Now why on earth are the windows still closed?" He was surprised he hadn't noticed earlier. Some pokemon or other always opened the windows before sunrise. "Abra?"
Abra’s disappearance gutted him. For he was no longer sitting comfortably, secure that he would see Eevee and Abra and Dwebble again, and have another chance at taking a walk.
The next moment he woke up alone in his guest room, every door locked and every stashed pokeball gone.
Bill's body was aching from whatever had happened while he was unconscious.
Bill grew up in a neighborhood on the sandy beach hills of southern Goldenrod, where crime was spoken of only in reference to the newest action film. Even when he lived in Vermillion, he always felt far away from that world. Criminals only existed as some far-off, fictional entity.
He heard crashing and banging, the cottage shaking as unknown invaders took it apart.
"Excuse me…" He whispered at the door. "Hello?"
No response.
i guess i feel really self-conscious because, with writing, i've done mostly self education. my experience in academics and in writing groups seems to be that my ideas take more explaining than i realize? or perhaps just don't make sense. i'd love some feedback to know if this story makes sense as a pokemon fanfic, or if there is a direction i could go to improve. i feel like i have taken quite a bit of liberty with anything canon.
i want to share an excerpt of this fanfic idea, which i hope helps illustrate what it's supposed to be all about. if i should share more, then i will, i just don't want to share too much and be boring and convoluted.
this excerpt starts in the middle of chapter one.
We’ll Meet At The Lighthouse | A Romantic Pokemon Adventure
summary:
Bill Sonezaki, of PC fame, and gym leader Surge were involved in the creation of Mewtwo - and Mewtwo had more than just one explosive incident during development.
slowburn Bill x Surge
based loosely on Bill and Surge’s (very few) interactions in the Pokemon Special manga
the light is where not to go.
additional tags:
au, utopian speculative fiction, characters have been altered in many ways, for example many characters use wheelchairs and it’s not always stated immediately, and other character traits, challenge assumptions or whatever, this is 300 years into the future so identity and expression is gonna be different, there is a happy ending, astronomy, heavy astronomy references that i try to explain enough to make sense, futuristic setting inspired by the pokemon world, the setting’s history draws from “real world” history, pokemon worldbuilding, pokemon lore, realistic pokemon, gender expansive characters, disabled characters, slow burn, dwarfism, nonverbal characters, wheelchair users, part-time wheelchair users, ambulatory wheelchair users, fat characters, trans characters
........................
Chapter One: A Cepheid Variable, page 2
summary: It’s morning for Bill and the pokemon who live at the Sea Cottage. Surge is there to meet him.
......
“Yarp!”
Among the large rocks decorating the kitchen counters and backsplash, another dwebble unfolded in a palmful of tiny red fingers.
"Thanks to y’all for running the cottage with those acoustic waves of yours," Bill said. “You been out watching the stars tonight? Spot your familiar cepheid flickers?”
Dwebble shuffled along. The radio emanated as Bill poured coffee into his #1 BABY BOSS mug.
"...scandal of the year. Dr. Oyèrónkẹ́ Fuji, former Director of the National Institute of Genetics, has not been heard from for four months now after the Institute’s break-in and the doctor’s home was found abandoned, robbed and vandalized…' 'Well, the doctor did have reasons to disappear.' 'You mean they had enemies.' 'I mean, you don't become one of the greatest medical doctors in the world without someone deciding to dislike you…'”
“What the fuecoco are we listening to..?” Bill took a sip of the coffee. It was black and scorching. It ran a trail of fire down his throat and sucked him all into one point of bursting matter; it reminded him of twilight with his grandparents and Abra and their mugs of almond cream coffee.
He chased it with a swig of lukewarm water and gasped afterward. Dwebble tittered at him, warming herself by the coffee pot.
A window spanned almost the entire kitchen wall. Through it, the world was still fading black, a stroke of sky glowing with stars, aircraft, and satellites.
He gazed into the desaturated, purple night, reflected in the swirl of his coffee.
For as long as he could remember, he had been at the whim of an erratic drive to create, to ask, to climb. There were periods when the ravenous desire calmed, and many periods moreover where he could hardly get himself out of bed.
His grandparents got him through his childhood in Goldenrod, Johto. Whenever he went over, his grandmom and Kadabra would show him how to use the telescope to find cepheid variable stars, stars that flicker in a reliable pattern. You could use them to tell where you were in the universe relative to other stars, the time they dim and the amount of brightness directly relative to its distance and place in time. They would also give Bill their clothes in piles on his bed at their house. His grammy, grandmom’s wife, would make battered vegetables with gooey centers, tomato steak with mayonnaise sandwiches, and all kinds of coffee with a latte machine and a cabinet full of syrups. Eevee would spare Bill the task of eating everything by himself. His grandparents’ walls were covered in cases and frames of Bill’s and their other grandchildrens' creations. Science projects, art projects, photos documenting their smallest accomplishments. Mostly things that haunted him with embarrassment.
When Bill moved to the Sea Cottage, in a hidden cove a three hour drive from the nearest gas station, he struggled much less with getting out of bed. The change occurred immediately after the move from where he used to live, deep in central Vermillion. Now, for the first time in his life since adulthood, he got up to sustain and to create. To see the flickering stars at each twilight. He achieved career success, finally, after living hell in academics. He could find the cepheids even without a telescope, because no artificial light could reach the Cottage. The sky opened to the unfiltered galaxy, its cloudy core always loud and clear.
Eevee wanted Bill to join them for a star-gazing walk; that was usually their intention when they crooned at him while taking a step or two towards the back porch door.
“Not now, honey,” he said as he shrugged on a jacket. "I'm working with Nidorino today. You can join me on my walk to her lighthouse, though, if you don't mind waiting and missin’ the blink of a few cepheids. ‘Least you’ll still have the shadow, though, right darlin’?"
You’ll have the shadow. Bill could hear Eevee return the colloquialism they picked up from Kadabra and grandmom.
Eevee flicked their tail, picked up Dwebble and disappeared through the front flap door.
"Thought so." Bill stepped into his power chair. He strapped himself in and lowered it into a seated position, grabbing a lid for his coffee.
Nothing made Bill happier than to settle down in his custom chair and ease into his current project, often traveling the mountains and beaches that smothered the sea cottage, to meet with pokemon who had answers and better questions.
Before he opened the back door to leave, he looked up. "Abra? You and the laptop ready to go?"
Silence.
“C’mon y’all,” Bill groaned, glancing around.
"Now why on earth are the windows still closed?" He was surprised he hadn't noticed earlier. Some pokemon or other always opened the windows before sunrise. "Abra?"
Abra’s disappearance gutted him. For he was no longer sitting comfortably, secure that he would see Eevee and Abra and Dwebble again, and have another chance at taking a walk.
The next moment he woke up alone in his guest room, every door locked and every stashed pokeball gone.
Bill's body was aching from whatever had happened while he was unconscious.
Bill grew up in a neighborhood on the sandy beach hills of southern Goldenrod, where crime was spoken of only in reference to the newest action film. Even when he lived in Vermillion, he always felt far away from that world. Criminals only existed as some far-off, fictional entity.
He heard crashing and banging, the cottage shaking as unknown invaders took it apart.
"Excuse me…" He whispered at the door. "Hello?"
No response.
