From: A person in a place with a thing. (newhaights@aol.comanyte) Subject: [PW!] Fated Attraction Newsgroups: alt.games.nintendo.pokemon Date: 2001-05-27 21:43:45 PST (OOC: Quite possibly the quickest I've ever written a PW. ^_^ ) "So, what are you gonna do now?" "*sigh* I dunno." Mara and Andrew stood there, on the outskirts of Saffron City, watching Gads before he disappeared from view. "Probably return to the Dojo." "Cool..." Neither one of the two wanted to leave, that was plainly obvious. They had spent the last year together; they had experienced so much together. Andrew didn't want to go back to wandering Kanto alone. And although Mara believed that her fellow Dojo members would be with her forever, she would still feel...alone. Andrew decided to be the one to speak. "Well, I guess this is goodbye." "Yep." They just stood, still hesitant. Mara approached Andrew, and gave him one last reassuring hug. "Don't worry," said Mara, pointing to her heart. "The three of us will always be together, in here." Andrew sighed. "Thanks. That's nice to hear." As Mara walked away toward Saffron, Andrew pondered. 'Goddish, now that it's back to just me, what *am* I going to do? Aw, hell, I'm gonna be bored again.' He decided, while he was trying to think of an answer, to take out his guitar. "C'mon out, Snicker," he said, as he tossed the PokÚball to the ground. As soon as the Pikachu appeared, he sensed that Andrew was depressed. <<What's wrong?>> "It's back to just us again." <<What do you mean, back to just us?>> "Gads has left to do something, and Mara's going back to the Dojo. We're on the road by ourselves again." <<Oh . . . . so, anything you wanted me to do?>> Snicker asked, concerned. "Not much...I figured you may want a jam session while I figure out what we'll do now." <<Sure! That always cheers me up!>> "It's gonna be the blues..." <<Eh, play it anyway. The blues never helped anybody who didn't give them to someone else.>> ** http://members.nbci.com/newhaights/PW!/sign.jpg ** Andrew sat down, facing the Saffron City sign, tuning his guitar. He took Snicker's harmonica out of his case and handed it to him as he bounded over. Clearing his throat, Andrew began to sing... Oh, we met a year or so ago, yeah we met in Celadon Yeah, we met about a year ago, I was sleepin', and he tripped up in Celadon We made our introductions, seemed like nothing could've ever gone wrong One of 'em had hair of blue, the other had a tail The second got his tail from Bill's, north of C-town and along the trail He tried to get Bill to fix it, but 'twas to no avail Now my friends have left me, had more important things to do I guess they had to go and find themselves, maybe I should do that too... ...what's this note say on the sign here? I can't read it. Well, can you? Snicker took the harmonica solo, oblivious... "...Snicker, I was talking to you. Can you read this note?" <<Oh. ^_^;;>> Snicker put down the harmonica and looked closely at the note written in the corner of the sign. ** http://members.nbci.com/newhaights/PW!/signclos.jpg ** << . . . "Bomb Ball Bashers"? Sounds...weird. >> "Yes...it does." Andrew stood blankly, waiting for the inevitable conclusion to hit him. "Y'know, Snicker," Andrew eventually said, "I think I figured out what we're gonna do next." *** At Saffron Railway... *** "One for Goldenrod, please." Although Andrew looked alert while ordering the railway ticket, he was lost in thought. He mulled over what he gleaned from the sign. ' "At any cost?" Sounds like a radical group...I wonder what kind of people are in it...can't be much, there seem to be only two people in it. And what do they have against Electrode anyway? I mean, they're not exactly godlike or anything...all they are is fast, y'know...but s'long as you keep them to themselves, they're not that bad, they just blow themselves up...' "Excuse me, son." Andrew snapped back into full consciousness. "Yeah?" "You're under arrest." *** The police station in Goldenrod was rather bleak. Or at least the interrogation room was. White walls, fluorescent lighting...gah, it was like a cubicle in there. Even the computer's hum was putting him to sleep. At least there was a window open. Andrew felt it was going to get a bit stuffy in there otherwise. "So what are you holding me for again?" "Public disturbance, attempt to cause riot, and public endangerment," Jenny stated plainly. "Mmm-hmm." Andrew was incredulous. "And slander," added Jenny's partner. "Wha?" "You can't accuse just any actor of threatening you, y'know," Jenny explained. "Panopticon was working on that movie at the time, and having to straighten this out caused a huge backup, not to mention wasting OUR time." "But I had reason..." "Yeah? What *kind* of reason?" "Well, me and the kids I was hanging around with at the time, we're all real big -- well, let's just say we've had our differences, Panop and us. Moreso the other two kids and him." "Mmm-hmm." "So I see the headline in the newspaper that they're making Blade Sprinter, and I see him turning the corner, so what was I *supposed* to think? If he saw me, he'd rip me to shreds! I was lucky the last time I was involved in a fight." "Nonsense. He wouldn't have attacked you. Panopticon told me himself, he doesn't even know you, and anyway, the movie's so far behind schedule that he wouldn't have the time to chase some kid off the set." "B-but..." "Can it, kid. Tell it to the judge." While the three argued on, a shadowy figure floated through the window. Unnoticed by the two police officers, it let slip a barely audible "...mag..." as it circled the computer and zipped out of the room. Unfortunately, it wasn't completely stealthy. "What was that?" asked the officer as he saw the top few sheets of a pile of paper fall to the floor. "What was what?" Jenny responded. "I just heard something fly out the window -- wait a second, the computer's acting weird. Lemme check it." He went over to the computer and tapped the mouse. Up popped a webpage from the Kanto Medical Records. "That's odd...this wasn't here before." The record in question was Andrew's. "Uh-oh...it's frozen..." As he tried to scroll the page, it moved about erratically, eventually stopping on the Mental Health subsection. "Hrrm." He checked the references on the page. He checked the history on the browser. "Can I see your PokÚdex, please?" Andrew handed it to the officer; he then checked against basic statistics. "Hrrm. I have no idea where this page came from...but it says here you're...prone to these sorts of outbursts." "Huh?" "It says here, you're known to run screaming from practically nothing, screaming and halucinating that someone's about to get you...then try to rationalize it later." "Uh...yeah! That's it! . . . Uh, kind of a congenital condition, I'm afraid. Did it since I was 5." "This says 6." "Who's counting?" "Well, this checks out...I suppose, since nobody who was startled by your outburst is pressing charges -- nobody's pressing charges, matter of fact -- you're free to go." "Thanks, Officer." "As a matter of fact, we'll pay for the ticket, to show you we're sorry for the inconvenience." "Really?!" "No. Psyche." Andrew groaned...'stupid police sense of humour.' TBC? (OOC: Next stop, Goldenrod. Andrusi, you can either send Andrew packing from Goldenrod with the usual BBB-initiation rite ^_~, or you can have me write him into Ecruteak and pick it up from there. I'd rather you usher him into Ecruteak. ^_^ ) -- NewHaights: NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION. NOBODY.