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Pokémon Blue: Nuzlocke Run

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Posted

POKEMON BLUE

HARDMODE

pokemonhardmodepartonei.png

Part One: The Ends Justify the Means

Introduction

Well, hell.

They tell you, when you're young, that life is like a box of chocolate. You never know what you're gonna get. I don't think I've ever really understood just how many different kinds of "chocolate" there are until today. Yesterday I was drafted, and tomorrow I'm being shipped out to Viridian By some politician I've never heard of to die for some people I've never met. I haven't even been through training. They just handed me an AK-47 and told me I was drafted. And if I didn't show up they would take me by force.

Why do they care so much about me anyways? I'm just some kid living in some small town, if its even big enough to qualify for "town," of no militaristic value. Are they really running out of troops that fast that they have to recruit like this? And will it even make a difference? There's eight city states, they all hate each other, and they're all at war with each other. thats the way it is, thats the way it always has been, and thats the way its gonna stay. Why can't they just decide they hate each other enough to leave each other alone? What the hell difference does it make if I sit here and complain?

My friend Dustin got drafted too. He doesn't seem too worried though. I think he's looking forward to it. I've known Dustin ever since we were little kids, and we've always been friends. Its strange that he actually wants to go to war. Its so unlike him. In fact, I'm pretty sure this town is so friggin small we're the only two people eligible to go.

We're both getting our pokemon tomorrow, From Dustin's dad. There's only enough for each of us to have one. I wonder what it will be like. I've always wanted a pokemon. Under these circumstances though... I have no combat training. I'm worried It'll die at my hands. I'm worried I'll die, and leave it on it's own. What am I saying, It'll be fine, won't it? But then what about Dustin? What will he do if I die? what will I do if he dies?

Hell, maybe I'm worrying too much.

So, this might be the last time I write in this, but I'm going to carry this journal anyways.

-Harvey.

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Posted

Before I even read this, I gotta say: That is a bitchin' drawing! I want you to draw all the feet on my characters from now on!! The amateur "action" lines (or whatever you'd call 'em) add so much to the piece! I love this!!

Although, assuming you did your signature, I'm not too surprised. The dragon is very simple, but you can tell it was done by a person with talent.

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Posted

Why, thank you.

Anyways, here's an update.

Part One Chapter One

I'm surprised I woke up at all this morning. I spent so much time last night thinking. I'm exhausted. I didn't know it was possible to exhaust yourself from thinking. Though I'm probably over thinking it, I mean, I think if I stayed up past four I would be tired no matter what situation I was in. It doesn't make a difference though, I was still supposed to show up at the Lab at about ten in the morning. I couldn't sleep in.

I looked for the clock thats supposed to be in my room, but when I found it it was blinking 12:00. I went over to the box of gear I was given a couple days ago when they told me I was drafted. There was some pretty basic gear in there. There was a pretty solid helmet with a chin strap. I put it on and pulled the strap tight enough to wear I couldn't move it but I could still speak comfortably. I actually didn't think that part through, because there was a t-shirt and jacket I had to put on, too. I took the helmet back off and put the t-shirt on, then looked through the rest of the box to see if there was anything else I should get to putting on. I was already in my boxers to begin with, so I didn't have to worry about taking anything off. Unless I wanted to go commando, which, now that I think about it, will I have to? I mean, I'm a soldier now. Isn't that where the term comes from? I'm probably thinking through this too much. When did putting clothes on get so hard?

Anyways, I looked through the rest of the stuff, and wouldn't you know it, there was another pair of boxers with some wool tube socks. Ain't that grand. I felt through the boxers, and they were much less comfy than the ones I was already wearing, so I just put them off to the side for a second while I looked for some pants. I found some made of some pretty tough fabric that wouldn't tear from most things. It was pretty rough stuff, but you tend to get used to wearing clothes like that after a while, so I didn't complain. They fit pretty well, but they were wide, too. I got the feeling the guys making the gear weren't too worried about the gear fitting anymore, so much as they were just getting guys on the front lines. There were some long black boots too, but I put those off to the side again with the underwear. I looked through the box some more, and found a Utility belt. It had some pockets along the sides for assorted things, like ammunition, or pokeballs. I put it around my waist. Then I turned to the jacket, and put that one on over it. the sleeves were long too, like the pant legs, so I rolled them up. Then I slid on the tube socks, and the long black boots over those. They pushed up my pant legs pretty far, so I tucked them in a little. I decided it was safe to put the helmet back on again, after double checking the rest of the box.

There was one thing left, and that was a big black backpack, about as tall and as wide as my own back. Staring at it made me wonder how much it could hold at capacity. I looked like a fair amount. Maybe six gallons of some random liquid if you distributed it among all the packs. It was black with plenty of different pockets for different things. There was a bottle carrier on both sides, straps along the bottom for a sleeping bag(which I notably didn't have), a bunch of small pockets, and a large pocket for various purposes. Inside the large pocket was some dry just-add-water rations that probably didn't need to be cooked(but I probably will anyways), a small cooking pot, and some flint. I wondered if I would ever get a tent, but for now I just used the wool camouflage blanket that came with it. I looked through the smaller pockets to find some pokemon chow and more ammo clips. On the left shoulder strap was a knife sheathe, with a rather threatening knife inside.

Man, I really hope I never have to use that knife.

Anyways, I put the underwear in one of the smaller packs, and put the backpack on. I reached for the AK-47 they gave me. It fit so easily into my hands. That was probably a good thing, but it worried me a lot. It gave me the impression that instead of it being designed for me, I was designed for it. It made me feel like I was born to kill.

I'm not a killer. Not yet, at least.

So I took this whole get up to the full size mirror I had in the corner of my room, to see how I looked.

pokemonhardmodepartone1.png

God dammit I looked ridiculous.

I'll keep updating this chapter as I draw the pictures, guize.

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Posted

8D

keepitupkeepitupkeepitup

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Posted

Gotta do the next pic. The pics are the most time consuming part of all this.

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Posted

waiting to see how Bulbasaur is going to be drawn. After you constantly repeating the word Bulbasaur to everyone within shouting distance, this picture had better be good.

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