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Crimson DESTR0YA
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Posts: 1888

The posts to follow in this forum will be a public journal I am writing in correspondance with a playthrough of Pokémon Red Version. The narrator is me, not a character, and what I will be narrating will be less about the game (although I will include adequate details regarding team and significant fights) and more about my musings. This is a journal, not a narration. Not a journal in the "Dear Diary, Today I went to the mall / Brad is so cute / XOXOXO" sense; my subject matter will be strictly consistent of philosophical advancements made from evocations of past and present experiences with the game. I'm looking for a sort of personal philosophical exploration a la the styles of Kierkegaard and Dostoevsky (though the latter did so through characters, the former through himself, so his is the superior example).

These notes will be posted publicly, frankly, because I don't trust myself to handle them as though they matter if I don't, and because I do feel a genuine duty to share something of artistic value with the site, should these notes succeed in this manner. I'm mixing Pokémon and traditional philosophy because these are two of the few subject matters for which I have ever been able to feel true passion; Pokémon for more than 14 years now, traditional philosophy comparitively recently. This is the first time I have (blatantly) attempted this mixture, and is doubtful to be the last.

Finally, don't let the personal nature of these notes dissuade your participation; if you have a comment to make mid-run, do make it, and if I have a useful response I will respond, perhaps in a unique post, perhaps in the next day's entry. All this was supposed to be much shorter, and placed in italics above the first post as an introductory disclaimer. Looking back on what I have written now, I already see telling personal insights in what I have written, and so rather it will serve as just an introduction, not the preface I had intended for it. Which in itself is telling of the beginning of many things...


Not quite one week ago I received an unexpected package in the mail. It was a simple gift from one I very much like: a shirt featuring a Pokémon. I have included a link to an image of the shirt so to better illustrate how it served as the inspiration for these very words. The shirt, in a phrase, is to me a microcosm of the very beginnings of what I have already stated to be one of the few things this world has ever given me to feel true passion for. It's hardly a unique passion to me, and was even less so at the time of my introduction to it back in the year Nineteen-Hundred and Ninety-Nine. I was actually a bit of a late bloomer in the realm of Pokémon fandom, as most of my peers (it's true, at that age I already saw my classmates as peers more than friends) had gone apeshit for Pokémon the grade before. It's with no small amount of pride that I claim none of them to still be as accomplished in that field as I, today. It's with no embarrassment that I make that claim, either. No true embarrassment. Were any of them to ask me now I would feign embarrassment, a small chuckle as I made the bold proclamation that I at 22 still frequent the world of Pokémon. For the truth is I'm embarrassed that I'm not embarrassed...


You probably thought the above was merely an aside, and that in the second passage already I've managed to get distracted from the topic. But in truth, the above notions flew back to me upon receiving the shirt. I was taken back to Nineteen-Hundred and Ninety-Nine when I saw that shirt, in a way and with a severity, a raw reality, that no other image nor song nor First-Gen sprite nor feeling of awkward isolation has ever managed to invoke in me. The image of a fresh young trainer, setting out into a new frontier, alone save for his one first friend, a vague image of the promise of the future high above, out of reach, right where it belongs... All within the silhouette of that one first friend.


It's true, for all my musings and proclamations of superiority already painfully, shamefully evident in the few shallow excavations I have thus far made, my Pokémon origin story is hardly unique. It seems to me to be the most clichéd of them all. My first main series game was Pokémon Red. I puzzled long and hard, studying the covers, the descriptions, the mascots, Red in my left hand, Blue in my right. I regret to admit to you that I don't remember why I chose Red. It wasn't for Charizard. It's true I loved the look of Charizard, but I was equally awed at the sight of the mighty Blastoise. It wasn't for a preference for the color Red over Blue, though if America had gotten the same Red and Green introduction as Japan, I bet Green would have won out. And it certainly wasn't because of any mechanical knowledge of the gameplay differences between the two versions. No, I don't remember, and I wish I did. I remember the moment I came to the decision, oddly enough. I distinctly remember deciding Red was the one for me, putting down Blue, and giving the Red box to my mother to purchase for me. But not why. Isn't history the same though? The deeds always survive the assault of time longer than the intentions...


My first Pokémon was indeed Charmander. I'm sure I picked him because I picked Red. While I didn't make the decision of Red over Blue based on Charmander over Squirtle, I certainly sealed the fate of Charmander over Squirtle when I picked Red over Blue. One did not simply pick Squirtle in Red Version. I don't remember quite what led me to choose him over Bulbasaur, though. Best I can tell based solely on subtle reaction to my implementation of different theories into the memory as I recall it over again, the Fire type seemed stronger to me. Yes, this is a belief I held on to for quite a while longer in Pokémon and other RPGs alike. I'd go on to pick the Fire starter in my first run of every Generation up until I picked Oshawott in Black Version. And I distinctly remember, as I picked Cyndaquil in 2000, Torchic in 2003, Chimchar in 2007... I did so not because I picked Charmander in 1999. I did so because they were the Fire ones.


I've probably fooled you again into thinking I've gone off-subject. But no! Truly, all of this, every word I've typed here, and some I've omitted, and some emotions and neuron-firings that fail to translate into words of English all presented themselves to me in the moment I received that shirt! All of this could have been more efficiently expressed as "Casey sent me a shirt that made me decide to play Red Version again," I know. And that is just so. I spent the latter part of that week hashing out the details of the run (a process I do indeed perform before every new run of a Pokémon game, whether I intend to stick with the plans I made or not) and just today brought the run to life.


--------------


I. Did he who made the Lamb make thee?


So it began. I retrieved my Gameboy Color in Lime Green and my copy of Pokémon Red Version and seated myself to start this trip back to Kanto. The Gameboy was indeed the one which gave me my first Pokémon adventure: the same screen, although scratched and scarred, displayed the images of my first self and my first companions, and the same buttons, although worn and tired, inputted the commands I gave to that very self and companions. The Red Version cartridge, sadly, was not the same. I have no idea what became of that cartridge. I lost it sometime early on in the year 2001; I lost my original Silver cartridge at the same time. I don't know how or when or why they were forgotten, hidden, buried, misplaced, stolen, or otherwise removed from my reality, but they were just so. This Red Version was a replacement. It had been purchased on a family trip somewhere up north, at a Walmart we passed along the way. It would have had to have been sometime after the misplacement of my original in Spring 2001, but obviously before Walmart stopped selling games for the original Gameboy in the area of 2002-2003. For all the value I place on symbolic sentimentality, I'm noticing I sure don't remember surprisingly important details about these games.


I placed the cartridge in the system and flicked the tired old switch, once again breathing life into the game. I selected "New Game" without a thought or a glance at the old file; I knew what was on that file and I knew it had to be erased. It was a run I had started in 2008, the last summer or my high school life. I had started it with the sole intention of testing the "Mew Glitch" which I had only that summer heard about. Upon the success of the glitch though, it would later go on to comfort me during a time of extreme pain in my life. I remember vividly playing it on a trip that was very much pleasant, but marred by the distraction of heartbreak. I often respond with cruelty, after the fact, to entities I associate with extremely painful memories, even if those entities were benevolent during those times. I don't know if any insights can be extracted from that observation.


I read Professor Oak's introduction, but I barely retained any of it. Just as back then. It was time to name myself. My first Pokémon trainer's name, I'm afraid to admit, was indeed "ASH." But this was my return to Red Version, not an attempted recreation of that time. So I wanted to be as I call myself now: "NICK," in all caps so as to stay consistent with other individuals as they are referred in in-game text. My rival kept the same name as I gave him back then: "GARY," of course. Even after facing him in later games as "Blue," and reading the Pokémon Special/Adventures manga and learning he was truly "Green," and after reimagining him in my own Nuzlocke headcanon as "Mitsuo"... Professor Oak's grandson, and my first and only inspired Pokémon rival is still Gary, to me.


I was now in control. I hit A and chuckled at the blatant self-promotion of the Super Nintendo system in the player's bedroom. When I first played, I had no idea what a "SNES" was. I was probably one of the first of the kids to whom the SNES was an outdated console. I barely even knew it. When I was very young, my parents had an NES I played such games as Duck Tales and Jungle Book on, but I didn't know until years later it was called a "NES." To me it was always just "The Nintendo." I did have interactions with a SNES when I moved to a new house when I was 6 years old; it belonged to my neighbors, but at that age I wasn't sophisticated enough to know the difference, so to me, it was just "a different Nintendo." And that Christmas I got my Nintendo 64, which of course graphically and otherwise blew both of the aforementioned machines out of the water, and was largely my (sentient) introduction to video games. So, by the time I got Pokémon, the N64 was the standard, and the SNES was a reference that went right over my head. I of course grabbed the freebie potion from the PC.


I talked to everyone in town before heading into the tall grass. I don't remember if I did so 14 years ago or not, but I wanted to see if I could extract any other memories still below the surface. I failed to do so. I entered the grass, triggering everyone's first cutscene. I was then at the lab. I could choose. I made the same decision as before. I picked the Ball on the left: I picked Charmander.


Something was missing. I grabbed my first Pokémon all over again, but there was no flood. There was no joy. I was happy to be playing, of course, and pleased with my pick in Charmander. But despite my best efforts, this did not feel like a new journey. I knew, of course, Gary would pick Squirtle. And I knew as soon as I passed the threshold of the bookcases that he was going to challenge me to battle. I knew that, barring crit hax and awful IVs, if I just spammed Scratch I would win. And I knew that if I did win, my Charmander would grow to Level 6. There was one difference between now and then: Experience. I was drawn back to William Blake's Songs of Innocence and of Experience. I was specifically drawn to remember the dichotomy of The Lamb and The Tyger. The same poem, in two different realities. Side by side you could hardly even tell the same hand penned both. Each is unrecognizeable to the other. They are the same, but once both are read, the second grows stronger, after having consumed the life of the first, leaving it moot, irrelevant, obsolete, meaningless.


I named my starter after the Tyger.

September 22, 2013 at 11:31 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Tamoria
Member
Posts: 234

This is a pretty interesting project, and I always really like seeing others' backgrounds/nostalgia feelings towards Pokemon. And I gotta admit, I'm darned proud I got that shirt for you too, I'm glad you took to it so much! I'm afraid a majority of the philosophical content will go right over my head, but I'm always happy to read what you write!

And for what it's worth, I don't remember nearly as much detail about this kinds of things, so I'm pretty in awe of how much you do recall. I did recently finally remember my very first starter though! I'm absolutely sure it was Squirtle. Back in the day I chose my starter based on which I thought was cuter. Well, I say back in the day, but I'm going to be completely honest, I still base my starter almost completely on aesthetics. Anyway, I thought Squirtle was the cutest of the first gen starters, and that Wartortle had a really elegant design. It was this kind of mindset that caused my first choices in the next generations to be Chikorita, Torchic, Turtwig, and finally Oshawott, and why I'm currently conflicted between Chespin and Fennekin. 


I wish I could claim that was relevant but in my case that was pure old fashion getting distracted. While I stand by that most of your philiosophy references will without a doubt sail right by me, I'm pleasantly surprised that did I recognize this one. I really like those two poems and how they go together, and while I'm pretty detached from religious wonderings, I was still pretty impressed with the question they posed and how the two went together. To be fair though, between Blake's visions and the fact that my first introduction to him was this (we studied one work from various artists in Academic Decathlon and why the hell they went with that horrible thing for Blake I will never know or understand), I've just never been able to take his works completely seriously. Nonetheless, it's tied in brilliantly here and I think that's a fantastic name to go with!

--


September 23, 2013 at 8:30 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

II. Innocence as purity? As loss? No... As Exchange.


This is a standalone journey. While part of its purpose is to draw certain parallels to my first, I will also make an attempt to separate it from not only that run from 14 years ago but also from every other trip through Kanto I have made in that timespan as well. So being, I've decided to take an angle I have never taken before, at least not during the main adventure: I'm going to try to "catch 'em all," as it were.


I had forgotten just how diverse this (comparatively) primitive game's early Pokémon selection was; already I've caught 13, with my last save occurring inside the Pokémon Center in front of the entrance to Mt. Moon. To my knowledge, I've caught everything available to me at this point, except for Butterfree and Beedrill. Since it's so much easier to get a Caterpie/Weedle to Level 10 later in the game when wild Pokémon provide the opportunity to grant the required amount of experience instantly, I've decided to save that task for such a time. I cannot confirm that I have captured everything available to me at this point, however; well, of course I can, but I won't.

I almost always play Pokémon with a sort of guide. When I was young, including my first ever run of Pokémon Red, I played with a physical Player's Guide. In more recent years I've abandoned the hand-holding of the Player's Guide in favor of the less intrusive though potentially more vast guide of the Internet. This time through, I'll be using neither. My experience alone will be my guide. As such, whatever holes remain in my knowledge of Gen 1 Kanto shall serve as the pratfalls I am to avoid in this run.

My first run was basically mono-Charizard. My starter had reached his final form before I had even entered Rock Tunnel. I had six Pokémon with me at all times, but I have almost no memory of them at all (I remember carrying the free Hitmonchan and Lapras with me, but that's all). I of course had dedicated HM users, for all but Cut, which I foolishly spent on my precious Charizard (oh, how redeemed I felt when I traded him to Silver and expunged that mistake from my record with the Move Deleter!). Experience tells me now that only using my starter is, to use a technical term, pants-on-head retarded, and I will certainly not be emulating that particular aspect of my innocence.


The Tyger is still undoubtably the core of my team, and easily its highest leveled member. I have plans for the final team, and I have yet acquired none of the other five prospective final members. As such, I'll not spend too much time on any of the rest of them, but I will certainly share my team at every step of the way.

I am currently carrying a Rattata, Spearow, Pikachu, and Jigglypuff. The Rattata I named Vanille, after one of Casey's newly acquired pet rats. I'm rather fond of the name, and I think it captures this Pokémon and its evolved form's essence well (if I misspelled her name, please don't correct me until I've reached Lavender Town, as I can do nothing about it 'til then). It dawned on me upon her capture that I've never used a Rattata or a Raticate in any run of mine, so I'll be sticking with her until she must be replaced by something stronger. The Spearow's name is Eyrie. I decided on this bird instead of Pidgey merely because it has access to a Flying move at this point, while Pidgey will not until much later, by my recollection (curiously, Gust is considered a Normal-type move in this Generation). The Pikachu's name is Verlaine, after the post-Baudelairian French poet of the same surname. I have no deep connection to make between the mouse and Verlaine's poetry; I merely spotted a book of his works on my shelf, which happens to be colored a vivid yellow. The Jigglypuff, finally, is Ballmoon, an extremely obscure reference that no one is likely to be interested in in the slightest. I have little experience with Jigglypuff, but I did raise one in this cartridge's previous run that I alluded to before, so for this run her use will be limited to Singing wild Pokémon to sleep for easier capture.


In starting with Charmander in Red Version, your only real strategy with the available selection of Pokémon is to take advantage of Rock-types' low Special. So I defeated Brock with just the Tyger; he evolved upon his victory. In my first run, I had such a hard time beating Brock that I actually trained my starter in Viridian Forest until he evolved, and then finally defeated him with a Charmeleon. Though I remember coming damn close my first try... I had almost managed to knock out his Onix, but was sadly left with a Metapod I'd caught wild and thus knew nothing but Harden. Of all the things to lament about innocence lost... that's certainly not one of them.


But what is to lament about innocence lost? Is it truly a loss, or is it a gain? Is it an evolution like that of the Tyger? He has grown more capable, in a tangible way: his statistics jumped gradually. I, too, have grown more capable, in such tangible ways as knowledge and comprehension of prior mistakes I know not to repeat. But it's not merely a gain... my shirt, my precious shirt no longer reflects the Tyger. Has the innocent stage of walking alongside my partner in his purest form already ended? Have I already achieved the height of my inspirational image? And what of the great beast, the full realization, flying majestically at the pinnacle of the image? Is that not experience? Is that not what the Tyger and I are striving to achieve? We've changed, he and I, but not one of us is that. Have I already outgrown such dreams? Have I already missed the train? Or were they all just illusions to begin with...

Yes...


A soothing, langourous smoke fills the air. The armchair terrorist yawns, and whispers in my ear...


"You'll never get that far."


He lies, of course. It's just part of his charm. I've learned so by now. The knowledge of the lie never made it less beautiful, somehow... But who is he? I'll tell you, dear Reader! ... But no. Not for now. First you must squirm in your innocence. It's just part of the process.

September 26, 2013 at 6:23 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

III. You taught me that innocence is a chrysalis, a phase designed to end.


I am very weary, this time. Too weary to be intentionally artistic like I was last time. Believe it or not (but you must, this very project proves it), philosophical examination is a voluntary pastime for me. I've been hitting the stuff a little hard of late, and as such my mind is just a bit oversaturated. So, this time it's just my voice, and my memories. Any insights that come out of this day will be purely unintentional.


I hiked through Mt. Moon today. It wasn't nearly as treacherous or exhausting as the imprinted memories from my innocence lead me to recall. I also recalled only four possible captures, all of which were first encountered in this mountain cave; I caught them all. I had plans for none. But one... One worked its way in, I think.

Clefairy was always the crown jewel of Mt. Moon. It is the rarest Pokémon in the cave. It's not the strongest; Geodude's potential to become Golem steals that crown. But to me, from 14 years ago and still to this day, I've always had a terrible time finding Clefairy in Mt. Moon. Of all the runs I've had of the cave in all the Kanto adventures I've had, all of my encounters with Clefairy could be counted on one hand. As such, I have almost no experience with Clefairy. My old competitive battling buddy CJ had one that gave me fits in a couple of battles. And of course I got trolled by Pokéfan Jude's Clefairy in White 2's Celestial Tower. But as for training one... no. Nothing. All I have is a vague memory of messing around with Metronome with a Clefairy that I had raised with some of Missingno.'s Infinite Candies. But I put no heart or effort into that Clefairy. Nor had I ever.


Naturally, she stayed true to form this time; I needed 30 minutes to find mine. I caught her fairly easily. I of course mentioned my lost innocence, and my connection to the Tyger... But this Clefairy is the closest to the Lamb this game is capable of giving me. I don't know what it does. I don't know how it feels. I have notions based not on knowledge, but on what I've been told and on what my own imagination can conjure. Yes... Her name is Eleanor. A Clefable wasn't one of the six I had planned for earlier. But now... we will see. I will use her until I no longer wish to. If that time never comes, so be it.

By TM, I have given her Mega Punch for strong STAB and Water Gun to take advantage of her highest stat, Special. I love that Water Gun is a TM, and that so many unexpected things can use it. I could have taught it to Vanille, if I'd wanted to! That is an element I wish would return to the series...

Of course, having passed through Mt. Moon, I have two Moon Stones. Eleanor can reach her next form whenever I feel like giving it to her. I will enjoy my Clefairy first, though. Her backsprite is adorable. Her Pound hurts way more than it looks like it should. Sing is useless for battles but quite helpful for catching wild Pokémon. I like my Clefairy.


She swept through most of the cave. Although Vanille helped too, enough to learn Hyper Fang. I had also never before stuck with a Rattata long enough for it to learn Hyper Fang. The accuracy is annoying but the move is very powerful, even in her unevolved form. There wasn't much for the Tyger to do here. Eyrie and Verlaine are largely getting left behind, experience-wise.

I chose the Dome Fossil, strictly because on my other active Gen 1 file, a Yellow Version run I started not too long ago, I chose Helix. Neither Kabutops nor Omastar is good for much of anything in this Generation; their movepools are far too shallow, and their secondary Rock typing is a hindrance, not a help (they can't even learn Rock Slide by TM!).


I left the cave, grabbed an invisible Great Ball that intuition alone guided me to, and felt the melancholic sense of unease I always feel when I make the irreversible leap down the ledge into Cerulean City. I know the west has no more to offer me; least of all in this run, in which I'm meticulously catching every new Pokémon I find. But the uncertainty of my first run still lingers, coupled with an irreversible act of progress... Nothing about the situation makes me feel comfortable. Am I the only one, I wonder?


I talked to everyone in Cerulean City; they really didn't have much to say. I made a mental note about the man who wants to trade the only Jynx in the game for a Poliwhirl. I got an invisible Rare Candy from the backyard of the house of the guy who explains all the badges. Gary appeared, and Vanille swept him with Hyper Fang. I really underestimated those rats for all these years, it seems. Further on in the Route, she evolved. I stopped using her after that, as she is now easily my highest leveled member. I need to use the Tyger more.


I stopped my progress after the Nugget Bridge because at some point in here I vaguely recall a trainer who is of vital importance to the Mew Glitch; this much information I will look up online. I will perform the Mew Glitch, but not for a Mew I intend to train for this run. For a Pokémon Stadium challenge, for competitive Gen 1, I don't know. I'll have to remember to write more about Mew next time, though...

September 28, 2013 at 11:52 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

IV. I was deafened by the din!


I did one thing today. It wasn't even relevant to the journey, in the long run. And yet for the sake of what I'm trying to accomplish, it may as well have been the climax, in a way. Today I committed an act that in my innocence I would have found both joyous and inconceivable. Today I performed the sacrament of my childhood known as the Mew Glitch.


As soon as I learned what it was, I wanted a Mew more than any other thing in the world. Honestly, I think I can remember a time in which that statement in all its grandeur was completely true (were you not aware of just how small my world was as a youth? How pathetic my wants?). I yearned for the chance at a Mew. My heart ached when it was revealed to be inaccessible. The movie and manga helped none. Toys, especially plush, helped little more; I became an avid collector of all sorts of Mew memorabilia, and oh how precious little of it there was to be found in the deep South! Yes, it was here no doubt that I first learned to resent my homeland! The opportunities I was denied merely because I existed here! I knew of the giveaways elsewhere. I was made particularly aware of the Pokémon Center - a real, honest to God Pokémon Center! - in Manhattan. This, no doubt, was the cause of my idealistic view of New York City as a youth that sadly carried on into adulthood.


Please don't misunderstand me; I was no doubt a warped and mentally ill youth. But what I wanted with this degree of passion I'd not feel even for another human being for years later on was not a misguided yearning for Pokémon as reality, for an actual, physical Mew for my own pet. No, I never was that far gone. I had this loathesome consciousness of reality that took me years to do away with. Honestly, I mean this will full sincerity, my life's greatest passion would have been fulfilled had a Mew existed on my copy of Pokémon Red Version! The cry and the sprite and the no doubt asinine moveset I would have given it would have been enough! And if I'd ever loaded it up in its full three-dimensional glory in Stadium? I might well have dropped dead on the spot! If only I lived in New York City... If only the rumors about the truck were true... Or if only...

If only they'd discovered the Mew Glitch sooner.


It seems as though this trick was discovered in the year 2003; I would not know of it until five years after that even, that's how detached I became from the franchise for a dark, wasted time of my youth. But there was no DLC, no expansion pack required. I had everything I needed to perform the Mew Glitch in Nineteen-Hundred and Ninety-Nine. Everything but knowledge.

At first, it struck me as strange that this glitch could be discovered so long after the game had ceased to be relevant. But really it's a miracle it was discovered at all. And yet... rather like the watchmaker argument (and just as fallacious, but do bear with me), it seems to all fit so perfectly, in hindsight:

1. Take advantage of flawed trainer encounter mechanics and limited rendering capabilities by walking down into the line of vision of a trainer outside of Cerulean City, then pause and Teleport away just as he notices you.

2. Battle a trainer who has Pokémon with EXACTLY THE RIGHT SPECIAL STAT. One point off in either direction will result in the eventual encounter of anything but Mew. TWO such trainers exist in areas adjacent to the aforementioned glitch trainer.

3. Return to glitch trainer's Route, whereupon the pause menu is mysterously brought up. Upon closing, a battle with a WILD Mew begins!

It's all so beautiful, so masterfully organized! Now, I'm not actually attempting to persuade you to believe that this trick was intentionally inserted. Every story makes perfect sense when followed from end to beginning. But it still has a certain harmonious discord to it that only the Missingno. Glitch could surpass (more on that later, too. Oh, so much more! I shudder to think how much more).


Yes, I did that trick today that I could only have ever dreamed of back then! What I might have given up to have learned of that trick fourteen years sooner! Had Lucifer presented himself to me with the trick back in Nineteen-Hundred and Ninety-Nine, why, I would have found my soul a paltry price to pay for such knowledge!

...But that's precisely the point, isn't it? Knowledge, and knowledge alone, is what made this height of heights available to me. But knowledge never comes easily, and not a damned moment before it is ready to be locked away, and more importantly, before its recipient is ready to lock his innocence away. Even if one is lucky enough as a youth to be raised by one who possesses and wishes to share such knowledge, more often than not it slips through the child's mind as water would through his hands. Or worse still, it's absorbed, but in the sick and distorted form of blind indoctrination! But that's only true of valuable knowledge...


Yes, not for the first time, perhaps not for the last, I realized my first ultimate goal in life. And I admit, the cry, the sprite, the Pokédex entry, all made me feel a slight bit, a sliver, an incomprehensibly minuscule fragment of the wonder I felt for the tiny pink cat back then.

For all this buildup, this emotional outpouring, this intricate autopsy into the psyche of an isolated eight-year-old, you no doubt took it as fact that this Mew would be a permanent member of my team. But no! It won't even be a temporary one. I've already realized this dream of a life with Mew. In Yellow, and in Black before that, and in Emerald before that, when Toys-R-Us finally let me realize my dream in 2005 with a genuine giveaway Mew to call my very own. I remember that day vividly... They didn't cap how many you could receive, so I got a strange look when I told the woman specifically that I only wanted one. And one was all I got. I still have that one... I couldn't nickname that one. I didn't want to back then anyway. But even today, because of the pedestal of pedestals I placed Mew on as a child, I have trouble naming them. "Euphorion" is the best I've got. Faust's son with Helen was the realization of his highest joy, as Mew was with me. Knowledge, sin, and the queerest of black magics was needed to bring Euphorion to this reality, as Mew was with me. And the bundle of joy strove for far too much, crashing and burning under the weight of his own star, bringing an end to the ecstacy far too soon, as... but you know the rest...

October 1, 2013 at 2:35 AM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

It's been two weeks since I last updated this? Bullshit. It'll be awhile longer too, I'm afraid, as the wide world of Pokémon Y Version has got my full, undivided gaming attention for the rest of this month, likely. I had hoped to finish this project completely before it came out...

--

The destructor has gone

October 15, 2013 at 12:55 PM Flag Quote & Reply

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