ClockworkJB
Aspiring Spacenoid
OMAWARI
By Clockwork JB
A detective/mystery Pokemon fic set in my own interpretation of Kanto/Johto. Haven't written any fics for quite a while, so this'll likely be a right mess, but I've gotta start again some time xD
AUTHOR'S NOTES
A quick note on the rating: Although there has yet to be any material posted which would warrant an "M" rating, I do have a tendency as a writer to slip in a little ultraviolence and other things which may be possible cause for objection where I feel they are required. I would also like to think that the issues discussed here are somewhat heavier than your average pokemon fic. From what I've seen so far though, most people on this forum posess a good deal of common sense - obviously, use your own discretion when deciding what you should or shouldn't be reading =D
-Setting-
In many ways the nation presented here mirrors both contemporary Japan and the Kanto/Johto of GSC. Pokemon and their use and treatment by humans is subject to many more laws and restrictions, most of which serve as a hotbed for contreversy, debate, protests and even violence. Therefore it's only natural that an organisation like the Special Pokemon Crime Investigation Team, would be created.
Reader's should keep in mind that law enforcment in Japan is far more centralised than in the US, with each prefectuaral branch coming under the umbrella of a national police force. The SPCIT, like many real-life special operations groups in Japan, is a national law enforcement agency.
Although the nation depicted here is somewhat more multicultural than Japan, the large number of foreigners depicted is more due to the fact that the events take place in Kabuchi, which as a port town has a higher number of foreigners in labour type jobs.
-Names-
In a Japan-like setting, Japanese names make for a much more immersive read than possibly jarring english ones For that reason the names of the majority of characters and places carried over from the games are from the original Japanese games rather than the translations. If you are unsure of any a quick Bulbapedia search will remedy this, otherwise I'll try and keep a list of names I've used as the story progresses and their english counterparts for the sake of convenience:
Kuchiba = Vermillion City
Yamabuki = Saffron City
CHAPTER 1
For Jonathan Grey, it was that odd stillness. It was always that odd stillness that made the hairs at the base of his neck stand on end, a creeping shiver that ran all the way down the length of his spine. Even with the noise and movement of the forensic team, the snapping of cameras, the flashing lights, the pulsating energies of psychic Pokemon, there was still that permeating feeling that time was suspended, a silent lingering of something just beyond human perception. The lingering sensation of death.
It just past dawn. The rain had abated some hours ago, but a heavy fog clung to the wharf, shrouding the darkened sea from sight. Shipping containers were stacked upon the pilings like great corrugated building blocks. Outside of the police perimeter, labourers had begun their early morning shifts, machinery rumbled to life and a low hum of activity slowly filled the morning air. Inside the perimeter however, the activity was begining to diminish. After the heavy rains, there was little left for the forensics team to discern. Already the body had been bagged and the team had begun to disperse.
"What've you got for me this time?" asked Grey, huddling over his steaming styrofoam cup. Senior Inspector Yamane sidled closer to stand beside him. A stooping, balding man, Yamane was the longest serving officer in the prefecture, having been with the force for over fifty years. He had earned a reputation for his unwavering belief in old-fashioned lines of inquiry, young Assistant Inspectors wary of his tendency to launch into one of his legendary monologues on the subject.
"Single victim, male, 31 years of age, died around 1 am last night," answered Yamane. He spoke in a low, steady tone, punctuating each point with a long pause. "He appears to have been killed by a powerful blow to the chest. The single Pokeball we found on him was empty."
"An attack by his own Pokemon?"
"Seems that way," said Yamane. "I'll leave the case report with you." He handed a folder over to Grey, then turned to leave.
"So you're finally okay with the SPCIT horning in on your cases," said Grey. He stared intently at the cup in his hands. Yamane paused.
"I'll accept the decisions of the top brass," said Yamane. "Just remember that we of the prefectural police use Pokemon." Bowing his head, the old inspector left Grey to gaze at his own reflection, distorted in his coffee. It had been four days since he had managed to fit in any sleep, and it was beginning to show. Eyes the colour of slate stared back at him, framed by darkened rings. His thick, russet hair was matted and unkempt, his normally clean shaven face sporting a coarse layer of stubble.
Life in the Special Pokemon Crime Investigation Team was rarely quiet, but the division had been under exceptional strain in the weeks following the Diet's announcement on amendments to Pokemon Protection Law. Protests by Pokemon rights activists had erupted into numerous small-scale riots. It was only a few hours ago that he had been in Yamabuki, tracking down the owner of a Donphan that had gone on a riot-related rampage, smashing half a block of storefronts. Now here he was in Kuchiba, facing a murder and yet another missing Pokemon. It occurred to him that his salary wasn't anywhere near high enough.
He took a long sip of his coffee, in a vain attempt to clear the unwanted detritus from his mind. He had a long day of investigation before him - he would have to brood upon his situation some other time.
---
The head office of Fortune's Shipping Company, like most of the structures in the harbour district, had seen better days. The damp sea wind had stained the brickwork, bleached the wooden door and left a fine saline crust in the windowpanes. The morning fog had lifted somewhat, and the golden early morning sun had only to contend with a light haze.
The victim, Miguel Mihura, a Brazillian nationalist, had been employed by the company for over three years, being the larger part of his time living in the country. The labourer's trainer ID had not turned up any registered Pokemon, so Grey had turned to his place of employment as the the man's first possible source of a loan-Pokemon.
Approaching the threshold, Grey twisted the handle and pushed, but the door stuck, locked. He knocked. A minute passed without any sign of reply so he knocked again, this time louder. Still no reply. He rapped upon the door a third time, even louder, and was about to announce "Police! Open up!", when a deep baritone from within cried "I've told you already, we can't do anything until the cops have finished!"
This statement was joined by the angered cry of a Pokemon, so that to Grey's ears it was a dissonant mess of noise. When the noise died down, the Pokemon having evidently calmed somewhat, Grey tried again.
"This is the police, I just want to have a few words with you about the incident last night."
"Oh!" The surprise from within was audible. After a moment, Grey heard the sliding of a bolt and the door edged opened to reveal a broad, hairy, flustered face.
"I'm Inspector Grey, of the Pokemon Crime Team," said Grey, flashing his badge. "I'm here to ask about Mr Mihura."
"I thought you were that Silph employee, come to bug me about their delayed shipment again," the man said, opening the door the rest of the way. Inside, the office was just as dilapidated as it was on the outside. A table stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by an assortment of moth-eaten chairs. Filing cabinets lined the walls, with papers spilling out hapahazardly onto the floor. A Machoke stood beside the man, arms-crossed, defiantly attempting to stare Grey down.
"I'm Delin Sun, chief supervisor for Fortune's Shipping" the man said. A short, muscular man, Grey couldn't help but compare Delin to the Pokemon standing by his side. Both wore the same scowl of annoyance. Grey wondered just how many times Silph Co. pressed the pair that morning.
"And Fortune had employed Mr Mihura for the last three years?" asked Grey, moving directy to the point.
"Yeah. He was as good an employee as we ever had here, diligent and never late for work."
"Did he have loan of a Pokemon from you or the company?"
"Yeah, I gave him Surly," answered Delin. "This here is his twin, Burly." He indicated the Pokemon beside him, who flexed its powerful biceps in response. A Machoke, Grey considered. An exceptionally strong Pokemon like that certainly fit with the preliminary cause of death.
"The Pokeball we found on Mr Mihura's body was empty," said Grey. "Have you seen Surly since yesterday?"
"No, not since quitting time last night," Delin glanced at Burly. The Pokemon shrugged and shook its head. "You don't think Surly did it do you? The two got on really well, I wouldn't have let Miguel look after him if they didn't."
Grey didn't answer, instead continuing with his questioning.
"Do you have any idea why Mr Mihura might've remained at the wharf last night?"
"Haven't got a clue. Miguel knows as well as anyone how dangerous the wharf is at night, even with the guard on patrol."
Grey supressed a sigh. His current line of questioning was getting him nowhere. He wrapped up his questions and left the office, his mind beginning to plot his next move in tracking down the missing Machoke. As he was walking the length of the wharf, a young woman passed him by. He heard the rhythmic click of her high-heels before he caught sight of her. She wore a suit and large shades, which hid what he had no doubt were exceptionally fine features. She carried a large black suitcase. It carried the Silph Co. logo.
She didn't give any indication that she had even noticed his existence as she strode by, blonde hair trailing behind her in the sea breeze. And with that, suddenly Grey had a newfound inclination to discover just what it was that Silph Co. were so desperate to have shipped.
By Clockwork JB
A detective/mystery Pokemon fic set in my own interpretation of Kanto/Johto. Haven't written any fics for quite a while, so this'll likely be a right mess, but I've gotta start again some time xD
AUTHOR'S NOTES
A quick note on the rating: Although there has yet to be any material posted which would warrant an "M" rating, I do have a tendency as a writer to slip in a little ultraviolence and other things which may be possible cause for objection where I feel they are required. I would also like to think that the issues discussed here are somewhat heavier than your average pokemon fic. From what I've seen so far though, most people on this forum posess a good deal of common sense - obviously, use your own discretion when deciding what you should or shouldn't be reading =D
-Setting-
In many ways the nation presented here mirrors both contemporary Japan and the Kanto/Johto of GSC. Pokemon and their use and treatment by humans is subject to many more laws and restrictions, most of which serve as a hotbed for contreversy, debate, protests and even violence. Therefore it's only natural that an organisation like the Special Pokemon Crime Investigation Team, would be created.
Reader's should keep in mind that law enforcment in Japan is far more centralised than in the US, with each prefectuaral branch coming under the umbrella of a national police force. The SPCIT, like many real-life special operations groups in Japan, is a national law enforcement agency.
Although the nation depicted here is somewhat more multicultural than Japan, the large number of foreigners depicted is more due to the fact that the events take place in Kabuchi, which as a port town has a higher number of foreigners in labour type jobs.
-Names-
In a Japan-like setting, Japanese names make for a much more immersive read than possibly jarring english ones For that reason the names of the majority of characters and places carried over from the games are from the original Japanese games rather than the translations. If you are unsure of any a quick Bulbapedia search will remedy this, otherwise I'll try and keep a list of names I've used as the story progresses and their english counterparts for the sake of convenience:
Kuchiba = Vermillion City
Yamabuki = Saffron City
CHAPTER 1
For Jonathan Grey, it was that odd stillness. It was always that odd stillness that made the hairs at the base of his neck stand on end, a creeping shiver that ran all the way down the length of his spine. Even with the noise and movement of the forensic team, the snapping of cameras, the flashing lights, the pulsating energies of psychic Pokemon, there was still that permeating feeling that time was suspended, a silent lingering of something just beyond human perception. The lingering sensation of death.
It just past dawn. The rain had abated some hours ago, but a heavy fog clung to the wharf, shrouding the darkened sea from sight. Shipping containers were stacked upon the pilings like great corrugated building blocks. Outside of the police perimeter, labourers had begun their early morning shifts, machinery rumbled to life and a low hum of activity slowly filled the morning air. Inside the perimeter however, the activity was begining to diminish. After the heavy rains, there was little left for the forensics team to discern. Already the body had been bagged and the team had begun to disperse.
"What've you got for me this time?" asked Grey, huddling over his steaming styrofoam cup. Senior Inspector Yamane sidled closer to stand beside him. A stooping, balding man, Yamane was the longest serving officer in the prefecture, having been with the force for over fifty years. He had earned a reputation for his unwavering belief in old-fashioned lines of inquiry, young Assistant Inspectors wary of his tendency to launch into one of his legendary monologues on the subject.
"Single victim, male, 31 years of age, died around 1 am last night," answered Yamane. He spoke in a low, steady tone, punctuating each point with a long pause. "He appears to have been killed by a powerful blow to the chest. The single Pokeball we found on him was empty."
"An attack by his own Pokemon?"
"Seems that way," said Yamane. "I'll leave the case report with you." He handed a folder over to Grey, then turned to leave.
"So you're finally okay with the SPCIT horning in on your cases," said Grey. He stared intently at the cup in his hands. Yamane paused.
"I'll accept the decisions of the top brass," said Yamane. "Just remember that we of the prefectural police use Pokemon." Bowing his head, the old inspector left Grey to gaze at his own reflection, distorted in his coffee. It had been four days since he had managed to fit in any sleep, and it was beginning to show. Eyes the colour of slate stared back at him, framed by darkened rings. His thick, russet hair was matted and unkempt, his normally clean shaven face sporting a coarse layer of stubble.
Life in the Special Pokemon Crime Investigation Team was rarely quiet, but the division had been under exceptional strain in the weeks following the Diet's announcement on amendments to Pokemon Protection Law. Protests by Pokemon rights activists had erupted into numerous small-scale riots. It was only a few hours ago that he had been in Yamabuki, tracking down the owner of a Donphan that had gone on a riot-related rampage, smashing half a block of storefronts. Now here he was in Kuchiba, facing a murder and yet another missing Pokemon. It occurred to him that his salary wasn't anywhere near high enough.
He took a long sip of his coffee, in a vain attempt to clear the unwanted detritus from his mind. He had a long day of investigation before him - he would have to brood upon his situation some other time.
---
The head office of Fortune's Shipping Company, like most of the structures in the harbour district, had seen better days. The damp sea wind had stained the brickwork, bleached the wooden door and left a fine saline crust in the windowpanes. The morning fog had lifted somewhat, and the golden early morning sun had only to contend with a light haze.
The victim, Miguel Mihura, a Brazillian nationalist, had been employed by the company for over three years, being the larger part of his time living in the country. The labourer's trainer ID had not turned up any registered Pokemon, so Grey had turned to his place of employment as the the man's first possible source of a loan-Pokemon.
Approaching the threshold, Grey twisted the handle and pushed, but the door stuck, locked. He knocked. A minute passed without any sign of reply so he knocked again, this time louder. Still no reply. He rapped upon the door a third time, even louder, and was about to announce "Police! Open up!", when a deep baritone from within cried "I've told you already, we can't do anything until the cops have finished!"
This statement was joined by the angered cry of a Pokemon, so that to Grey's ears it was a dissonant mess of noise. When the noise died down, the Pokemon having evidently calmed somewhat, Grey tried again.
"This is the police, I just want to have a few words with you about the incident last night."
"Oh!" The surprise from within was audible. After a moment, Grey heard the sliding of a bolt and the door edged opened to reveal a broad, hairy, flustered face.
"I'm Inspector Grey, of the Pokemon Crime Team," said Grey, flashing his badge. "I'm here to ask about Mr Mihura."
"I thought you were that Silph employee, come to bug me about their delayed shipment again," the man said, opening the door the rest of the way. Inside, the office was just as dilapidated as it was on the outside. A table stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by an assortment of moth-eaten chairs. Filing cabinets lined the walls, with papers spilling out hapahazardly onto the floor. A Machoke stood beside the man, arms-crossed, defiantly attempting to stare Grey down.
"I'm Delin Sun, chief supervisor for Fortune's Shipping" the man said. A short, muscular man, Grey couldn't help but compare Delin to the Pokemon standing by his side. Both wore the same scowl of annoyance. Grey wondered just how many times Silph Co. pressed the pair that morning.
"And Fortune had employed Mr Mihura for the last three years?" asked Grey, moving directy to the point.
"Yeah. He was as good an employee as we ever had here, diligent and never late for work."
"Did he have loan of a Pokemon from you or the company?"
"Yeah, I gave him Surly," answered Delin. "This here is his twin, Burly." He indicated the Pokemon beside him, who flexed its powerful biceps in response. A Machoke, Grey considered. An exceptionally strong Pokemon like that certainly fit with the preliminary cause of death.
"The Pokeball we found on Mr Mihura's body was empty," said Grey. "Have you seen Surly since yesterday?"
"No, not since quitting time last night," Delin glanced at Burly. The Pokemon shrugged and shook its head. "You don't think Surly did it do you? The two got on really well, I wouldn't have let Miguel look after him if they didn't."
Grey didn't answer, instead continuing with his questioning.
"Do you have any idea why Mr Mihura might've remained at the wharf last night?"
"Haven't got a clue. Miguel knows as well as anyone how dangerous the wharf is at night, even with the guard on patrol."
Grey supressed a sigh. His current line of questioning was getting him nowhere. He wrapped up his questions and left the office, his mind beginning to plot his next move in tracking down the missing Machoke. As he was walking the length of the wharf, a young woman passed him by. He heard the rhythmic click of her high-heels before he caught sight of her. She wore a suit and large shades, which hid what he had no doubt were exceptionally fine features. She carried a large black suitcase. It carried the Silph Co. logo.
She didn't give any indication that she had even noticed his existence as she strode by, blonde hair trailing behind her in the sea breeze. And with that, suddenly Grey had a newfound inclination to discover just what it was that Silph Co. were so desperate to have shipped.
Last edited:
