PokèDruids [PkmnWattys2016]

Introduction

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Okay, look. I'm obligated to say that this contains obscene material, okay? Good. And yes, I mean that I don't go ten chapters without saying the f-word once. I think. Well.... Maybe. And maybe some of it's disturbing. Oh well. So was that animal documentary thing. The one with the wolves eating other animals and all.

Point is, this could be technically rated PG-13 to rated R, depending on where you draw the line for language and inappropriate references. Or rated T if you go ESRB style. The rated T thing makes more sense for this story. So... Yeah.

Be careful. Still love you, though. ;)
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"Really? It's about time. I mean, I'm getting a head start of about negative four years here."

In the dimly lit oaken mess of a living room, there stood a mass of furniture. Preaching up the walls were unassembled shelves, holding the nothing of food the family of Pepe and his mother Mary could afford at any given time. While one might think something of the world of Pokemon to be prosperous, one ripe with life and friendship, no amount of love and family can equate to an actual morsel of food, just as how no amount of air will be the same as something solid and meaningful. On the ceiling of the shack of a house droops Angels whose form resembles that of wooden pillars ,not hopeful beings of respite. In the center preaches a table with various wrappers and scraps, praying ever to the holy lamp above- okay, enough with the church symbolisms, you came here to read Pokedruids, not some depressing article on a poorly kept house.

Aside from the shoddy everything, there sat a few worn plush dolls depicting long time favorite Pokemon such as one of an Eevee missing an eye, or a Totodile with all but one of the teeth torn off by a little child, lied about the dusty corners of this sad box of a home. The little tooth-tearing boy, who grew up to be the boy known as Pepe, who also happens to be sweeping in the middle of the room, responded to the opening statement a few paragraphs up by sustaining a neutral face while fostering a feeling of negative shock which would be best described as appaullment, except that that isn't actually a word. Apparently. Either way, a slightly dark skinned, mop headed 14 year old boy emitted the sarcastic response to the start of what would be a great milestone in his life, which is just what every Pokemon trainer awaits to hear at the age of ten, right before getting the crap beat out of him by a level 50 wandering monster, because not everyone lives in starter town. Boo-hoo.

The only vestments on this boy were his loose-fitting jeans and red sweater, of which a few holes opened to reveal a white undershirt. His Hispanic face was brutish, rough on the eyes for such a young face. Only the smallest patch of hair was atop his chin, although he was soon to receive more. One could not look at this boy without immediately thinking of the word 'peasant' or the like.

However, just as years easily take the vigor out of all but the greatest trainers, who have made the epics that are passed on until this day, it wears even more upon the will of those who cannot afford a pokeball (which would be ridiculous, considering 100 poke translates into 100 yen, which is about 0.10 USD and also happens to be the cost of a normal pokeball, which is stupid. Hence, the actual price of pokeballs is multiplied by about 1000 here. But enough economics). Pepe spoke to his mother again, but in a tone and phrase that would give reason to answer.

"I mean, yes, that sounds like fun, but I don't want you to push yourself if it means you'd have to-" and, stopping the sentence short of completion, a soft, feminine voice from a mother who goes by Mary spoke in immediate response, "Please listen. I'm not talking about buying you a pokeball or your first Pokemon myself. Instead, the professor from Ashport said he wanted to 'help another young trainer-'"

"'-another young trainer get a start in exploring the wonderful blah blah Pokemon.' Bullshit."

"Pepe!"