[98 / 3 / 35]
It's possible you're dead and this is some capricious god's idea of a practical joke. The last thing that comes to mind when you think of heaven or the afterlife is the Johto region from the Pokemon games. Yet, here you are. You don't remember dying, though. In fact, the last thing you remember is stepping onto the ---- bus on your way to night school. You remember putting on your earbuds as you sat down on a window seat, booting up your Switch and losing yourself in the soothing, meticulously pixelated world of Stardew Valley. A momentary escape from the dull tedium that is your life.
As for Pokemon, you haven't even thought about it since you were a kid. It was one of those pleasures that got exhausted by obsession. Cards, plushies, posters, Saturday morning adventures with Mr. Ketchum carefully recorded to VHS, the little plastic Pokeballs with the miniatures inside, and of course, the games. But a candle that burns twice as hot, lasts half as long. By the time you hit eighth grade you were already onto something else (girls, for one). And by high school, you had gotten rid of all your Pokemon paraphernalia at an impromptu garage sale. In retrospect the two hundred dollars you were so ecstatic about (and which got you a Playstation 2 two seasons before Christmas) wasn't an adequate return on investment. Some of the cards you sold then are now worth a hundred times as much.
But back to the matter at hand. You're in Johto. Ecruteak City, to be exact. You woke up in the Pokemon Center (which also treats humans, albeit not as conveniently), in a hospital bed. The Nurse (not actually named Joy, that's just a colloquialism here) said they found you inside the Burnt Tower, lying under some rubble. She said a bunch of kids found you, hooligans loitering around where they're weren't supposed to, and they ran to the nearest Jenny (again, colloquialism) for help when they spotted you. You were barely listening to all this when she explained it, too focused on the real-life Chansey that followed her around, pinching yourself furiously under the covers to see if this was a dream.
It wasn't.
No permanent damage, according to the Nurse, just a little bruising on your head and back, but they've kept you overnight just in case. It's now the morning of the next day. They've given you back your clothes, a Pokemon version of the same stuff you were wearing on the bus: a plain white tee, striped boxers, jeans, sneakers, and a windbreaker with a Pokemart logo on it in where the Nike checkmark used to be.
You dress in the bathroom and when you come out there's a Jenny in full regalia, sitting by the bed, holding a small notepad. She smiles and wonders if she can ask you some questions.
>Yes
>No
>Write-in
As for Pokemon, you haven't even thought about it since you were a kid. It was one of those pleasures that got exhausted by obsession. Cards, plushies, posters, Saturday morning adventures with Mr. Ketchum carefully recorded to VHS, the little plastic Pokeballs with the miniatures inside, and of course, the games. But a candle that burns twice as hot, lasts half as long. By the time you hit eighth grade you were already onto something else (girls, for one). And by high school, you had gotten rid of all your Pokemon paraphernalia at an impromptu garage sale. In retrospect the two hundred dollars you were so ecstatic about (and which got you a Playstation 2 two seasons before Christmas) wasn't an adequate return on investment. Some of the cards you sold then are now worth a hundred times as much.
But back to the matter at hand. You're in Johto. Ecruteak City, to be exact. You woke up in the Pokemon Center (which also treats humans, albeit not as conveniently), in a hospital bed. The Nurse (not actually named Joy, that's just a colloquialism here) said they found you inside the Burnt Tower, lying under some rubble. She said a bunch of kids found you, hooligans loitering around where they're weren't supposed to, and they ran to the nearest Jenny (again, colloquialism) for help when they spotted you. You were barely listening to all this when she explained it, too focused on the real-life Chansey that followed her around, pinching yourself furiously under the covers to see if this was a dream.
It wasn't.
No permanent damage, according to the Nurse, just a little bruising on your head and back, but they've kept you overnight just in case. It's now the morning of the next day. They've given you back your clothes, a Pokemon version of the same stuff you were wearing on the bus: a plain white tee, striped boxers, jeans, sneakers, and a windbreaker with a Pokemart logo on it in where the Nike checkmark used to be.
You dress in the bathroom and when you come out there's a Jenny in full regalia, sitting by the bed, holding a small notepad. She smiles and wonders if she can ask you some questions.
>Yes
>No
>Write-in
