Story Notes:
Construction on story has been temporarily stopped due to an excess of writer's block
Age: 6
?sclaimer: I don't claim to own any characters in the story. The plot is mostly mine, with several events from Diamond and Pearl tying in, and any character you will never ever ever find in any Pokemon game in existence will probably be an original character. Depending on the character, I may claim to own him/her, but for people like Cynthia's parents, it's fine. No copyright violations intended. Specific other types of violations, maybe. *wink*
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"Your favorite color is black, is it not?"
"Yes," Cynthia replied with a sigh, pausing in her drawing. This was the fifth psychologist her parents had sent her to in the past year, all because she liked black and her first pokemon was a ghost/dark type. "And before you ask, my first pokemon was and still is a Spiritomb."
The psychologist looked startled. "How did you know I was going to ask that?"
"That's what the other four psychologists all asked next," Cynthia informed him, continuing to draw with the crayons and paper he'd given her.
"Oh. Has anything--"
"I'm a six year old girl and the only major event in my life was when I met Spiritomb. There's nothing to make me depressed," she interrupted, not even looking up from her picture.
"Huh," he said, writing something on his clipboard just like the first four doctors. Cynthia sighed. They're all the same, she thought. "Well, I think we're pretty much done here."
She finished the picture she was drawing and got up. The psychologist escorted her through the door and into the lobby where her father was waiting. Cynthia retrieved her backpack from her dad.
"Well, George," the doctor told him. "she seems to be perfectly fine. Just because she--"
"Likes black doesn't mean she's depressed, and she acts perfectly fine; yeah I know," George cut him off.
"I assume you knew what I was going to say the same way she knew all the question I was going to ask her?"
"If you mean that it's because that's what all the other doctors so far have said, then yes."
"I see," the psychologist responded. "Well, good day to you both."
"Bye," Cynthia said as they left.
"So, how did it go?" her dad asked her while they walked to the magnet train station.
"Same as always, daddy," Cynthia replied. "I even drew the same picture yet again." She held up the drawing.
"Same six pokemon, even?"
"Yep. What are their names again?"
"That one you already know," George told her, pointing to the Spiritomb. "This one's a Garchomp." He pointed to the tall, blue and red shark. "These are a Milotic and a Gastrodon." He gestured to the serpent and the reddish slug. "And these two are a Roserade and a Lucario." He pointed at the plant and the blue-and-black vulpine pokemon. "Why do you keep drawing these six?"
"Because I'm going to have them someday," Cynthia told him simply.
"How do you know?" George looked puzzled as they got on the train.
"I had a dream about it."
"Is that how you knew what they looked like?"
"Yeah. Oh look, there's one now!" Cynthia exclaimed, pointing at a woman who had just boarded the train with her Garchomp. "Wow. It looks just like my picture." She looked between her picture and the real thing.
"You're right," her father said, peering at the crayon drawing. "You drew this from a dream you had?"
"Yep. I'm gonna go talk to it!" Cynthia jumped off her seat and ran over to the woman and her pokemon.
"Cynthia, wait!" Her dad followed more slowly.
"Hi!" she greeted the woman, who had taken a seat near theirs. The pair turned to look at her.
"Um," the woman replied awkwardly. "hello."
"You're a Garchomp, aren't you?" Cynthia asked the land shark. "I've never seen a real Garchomp before!"
"Gar," it replied.
"I drew a picture, see?" she said eagerly, showing them the picture.
"Wow," the woman said. "This is really good."
"Garch," the shark agreed.
"Thanks," Cynthia replied happily.
"Didn't you say you'd never seen a Garchomp before. How did you know what it looks like?"
By this time, George had caught up to them. "She says she had a dream where she had these six pokemon," he said, gesturing to the picture.
"Well," the woman responded, looking like she didn't believe him. "that's different."
"Look," Cynthia said, opening her backpack, pulling out a rock. "I've already got one of them!" she continued as Spiritomb appeared from the rock.
"You've got a Spiritomb?" the woman asked. "Those are rare."
"Really?" Cynthia asked in wonder. She looked at Spiritomb. "You never told me that!"
You never asked, it replied. She scowled at it.
"Garchomp," the giant shark muttered.
He says that he doesn't think you could raise a Gible, Spiritomb told Cynthia.
"I could too!" she told the Garchomp. He looked startled that she knew what he said. Spiritomb turned and looked at him, and he glared back.
You told him that you told me, didn't you? Cynthia asked it. She'd learned how to speak with Spiritomb in her mind about a month earlier.
Yep, came the reply.
"Sorry about all this," George was telling the woman. "Cynthia gets overexcited really easily."
"Oh, that's okay," the woman responded.
"Let's go, sweetie," Cynthia's dad told her. They went back to their seats and sat as the train started to move.
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Half an hour later, they had gotten off the train in Veilstone City and were walking to their home in Celestic Town. One trainer thought that Cynthia was a trainer, because Spiritomb still hovered above her backpack, and challenged her to a battle. "But I'm not a trainer," Cynthia protested.
"Really?" the trainer asked. "Why do you have a Spiritomb with you?"
"He's my friend, not my pokemon."
"Is that so?" With that, the trainer hurled a poke ball at Spiritomb. Cynthia froze out of fear for her friend, but before either her father or the trainer had a chance to do anything, Spiritomb used a quick ominous wind to send the poke ball flying back at the trainer, then a dark pulse to create a cloud of darkness around him, blinding the trainer. At this point Cynthia's father picked her up and carried her home as quickly as he could.
Next time, Spiritomb told her. let him think I am your pokemon. If I hadn't acted in time, you probably would never have seen me again.
"Next time," Cynthia's father told her. "let him think Spiritomb is your pokemon. If he hadn't acted in time, you probably would never have seen him again."
After the double scolding, Cynthia began to cry and fled to her room, with Spiritomb floating along behind her. She closed the door and lay on the bed, trying not to think about what she would have done if Spiritomb had been captured.
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Walking into the kitchen, George taped Cynthia's drawing onto the refridgerator door, right next to the other five. "No more psychologists," he told himself.
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"Your favorite color is black, is it not?"
"Yes," Cynthia replied with a sigh, pausing in her drawing. This was the fifth psychologist her parents had sent her to in the past year, all because she liked black and her first pokemon was a ghost/dark type. "And before you ask, my first pokemon was and still is a Spiritomb."
The psychologist looked startled. "How did you know I was going to ask that?"
"That's what the other four psychologists all asked next," Cynthia informed him, continuing to draw with the crayons and paper he'd given her.
"Oh. Has anything--"
"I'm a six year old girl and the only major event in my life was when I met Spiritomb. There's nothing to make me depressed," she interrupted, not even looking up from her picture.
"Huh," he said, writing something on his clipboard just like the first four doctors. Cynthia sighed. They're all the same, she thought. "Well, I think we're pretty much done here."
She finished the picture she was drawing and got up. The psychologist escorted her through the door and into the lobby where her father was waiting. Cynthia retrieved her backpack from her dad.
"Well, George," the doctor told him. "she seems to be perfectly fine. Just because she--"
"Likes black doesn't mean she's depressed, and she acts perfectly fine; yeah I know," George cut him off.
"I assume you knew what I was going to say the same way she knew all the question I was going to ask her?"
"If you mean that it's because that's what all the other doctors so far have said, then yes."
"I see," the psychologist responded. "Well, good day to you both."
"Bye," Cynthia said as they left.
"So, how did it go?" her dad asked her while they walked to the magnet train station.
"Same as always, daddy," Cynthia replied. "I even drew the same picture yet again." She held up the drawing.
"Same six pokemon, even?"
"Yep. What are their names again?"
"That one you already know," George told her, pointing to the Spiritomb. "This one's a Garchomp." He pointed to the tall, blue and red shark. "These are a Milotic and a Gastrodon." He gestured to the serpent and the reddish slug. "And these two are a Roserade and a Lucario." He pointed at the plant and the blue-and-black vulpine pokemon. "Why do you keep drawing these six?"
"Because I'm going to have them someday," Cynthia told him simply.
"How do you know?" George looked puzzled as they got on the train.
"I had a dream about it."
"Is that how you knew what they looked like?"
"Yeah. Oh look, there's one now!" Cynthia exclaimed, pointing at a woman who had just boarded the train with her Garchomp. "Wow. It looks just like my picture." She looked between her picture and the real thing.
"You're right," her father said, peering at the crayon drawing. "You drew this from a dream you had?"
"Yep. I'm gonna go talk to it!" Cynthia jumped off her seat and ran over to the woman and her pokemon.
"Cynthia, wait!" Her dad followed more slowly.
"Hi!" she greeted the woman, who had taken a seat near theirs. The pair turned to look at her.
"Um," the woman replied awkwardly. "hello."
"You're a Garchomp, aren't you?" Cynthia asked the land shark. "I've never seen a real Garchomp before!"
"Gar," it replied.
"I drew a picture, see?" she said eagerly, showing them the picture.
"Wow," the woman said. "This is really good."
"Garch," the shark agreed.
"Thanks," Cynthia replied happily.
"Didn't you say you'd never seen a Garchomp before. How did you know what it looks like?"
By this time, George had caught up to them. "She says she had a dream where she had these six pokemon," he said, gesturing to the picture.
"Well," the woman responded, looking like she didn't believe him. "that's different."
"Look," Cynthia said, opening her backpack, pulling out a rock. "I've already got one of them!" she continued as Spiritomb appeared from the rock.
"You've got a Spiritomb?" the woman asked. "Those are rare."
"Really?" Cynthia asked in wonder. She looked at Spiritomb. "You never told me that!"
You never asked, it replied. She scowled at it.
"Garchomp," the giant shark muttered.
He says that he doesn't think you could raise a Gible, Spiritomb told Cynthia.
"I could too!" she told the Garchomp. He looked startled that she knew what he said. Spiritomb turned and looked at him, and he glared back.
You told him that you told me, didn't you? Cynthia asked it. She'd learned how to speak with Spiritomb in her mind about a month earlier.
Yep, came the reply.
"Sorry about all this," George was telling the woman. "Cynthia gets overexcited really easily."
"Oh, that's okay," the woman responded.
"Let's go, sweetie," Cynthia's dad told her. They went back to their seats and sat as the train started to move.
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Half an hour later, they had gotten off the train in Veilstone City and were walking to their home in Celestic Town. One trainer thought that Cynthia was a trainer, because Spiritomb still hovered above her backpack, and challenged her to a battle. "But I'm not a trainer," Cynthia protested.
"Really?" the trainer asked. "Why do you have a Spiritomb with you?"
"He's my friend, not my pokemon."
"Is that so?" With that, the trainer hurled a poke ball at Spiritomb. Cynthia froze out of fear for her friend, but before either her father or the trainer had a chance to do anything, Spiritomb used a quick ominous wind to send the poke ball flying back at the trainer, then a dark pulse to create a cloud of darkness around him, blinding the trainer. At this point Cynthia's father picked her up and carried her home as quickly as he could.
Next time, Spiritomb told her. let him think I am your pokemon. If I hadn't acted in time, you probably would never have seen me again.
"Next time," Cynthia's father told her. "let him think Spiritomb is your pokemon. If he hadn't acted in time, you probably would never have seen him again."
After the double scolding, Cynthia began to cry and fled to her room, with Spiritomb floating along behind her. She closed the door and lay on the bed, trying not to think about what she would have done if Spiritomb had been captured.
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Walking into the kitchen, George taped Cynthia's drawing onto the refridgerator door, right next to the other five. "No more psychologists," he told himself.