I Have No Childhood

I love Pokémon. I've loved Pokémon ever since it was first introduced to me in the form of the anime, at its release. It's a bit of a wonder, then, how White is my first step into a new region. My first games were Fire Red, then Soul Silver, two bits of nostalgia I'll never have. I feel I've failed somehow.

Spawning thoughts such as these was this little drawing (or series of drawings, rather) by the artist of the highly recommended webcomic Awkward Zombie. I don't know if it's jealousy or what, but my soul is a little crushed that I'm being sent back to freshman year instead of my childhood. My brain knows it's not my fault. It's not like I could scrounge together the kind of money it would take to get those games on my own. (First of all, it would have to occur to me to try that.) I've never felt this way about any series I've gotten into late before. What's so different about Pokémon?

I have no idea.

Let's rattle some other things off, shall we? Final Fantasy. I've never finished one, so I don't attach much emotion. Fable? It doesn't have the same magic. Halo was an acquired taste for me. And--hold that thought. Magic. What is this magic?

Huh. The Pokémon series has never really had much in the way of self-contained stories. There's a whole world of possibilities out there, and the highly customizable teams only provide the gasoline for your spark of imagination. Not to mention the ridiculously imaginative creatures that you're set loose with. That's probably why I am so constantly tempted to write and immediately regret fanfiction for it all the time.

Anyways, this was going to be a more conventional post of my first impressions, and not an essay on missed nostalgia. Which is a phrase I am going to wonder for a long time how to work into everyday conversation.

Our protagonist and his/her friends seem never to have stepped out of town before. That, coupled with the fact that they don't look ten years old this team around, and a few other things I can't focus hard enough on because I want to get this written so I can go back to playing and thinking of other ways to combat run-on sentences, seems to suggest some kind of growing-up theme. Also, the question of whether it's really right to train Pokémon in battle. (Though the answer's been around since Silver.) This is really early in the game, and probably common knowledge anyway, so not spoilers, right? Moving on.

The "nova" bit of Unova was probably no accident. Nova, of course, meaning new. This game is doing all sorts of things that have never been done in its series before. First off, you won't be seeing any of the Pokémon you've come to know and love until after the Elite Four, if rumors are to be believed. And at least the first tournament will only have new Pokémon qualify. Not to mention the less meta bits of the game. And this is something I can get behind. I have never had a chance before to see new Pokémon firsthand, learn their strengths and weaknesses, grow to hate and love them rather arbitrarily. I suppose I could have done it in the past by choice, but there is a large difference between that and being forced.

Aaand that does it. I give up trying to wax philosophical, if only because my dear Lillipup is calling my name with tears in his eyes. Well, it's either my name or "feed me."

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Nerdiness

In case there are some overzealous lawyers around, I DON'T OWN YOUR CRAP, OKAY? Oh, wait, except it's not crap or I wouldn't be borrowing some, would I? Though some would borrow crap. That's not me, though.

In more legalese terms, I do not own any of the games I make reference to or anything, nor am I so much as affiliated with them.

PMcC:

One of our greatest wishes as gamers is an opportunity to go pro. For some weird reason, people would rather watch football on television than Soul Calibur and such. Well, barring that, we look for an opportunity for our staggering knowledge of trivia to come in handy.

Well, when you're pretty much a god (and that, my children, is a discussion for another day), you tend to get your wishes in some way or another. And sometimes your friends get involved.

I guess it all started with another accident at the mad scientists'. Those seem to happen quite a bit. She still trusts us, for some reason. "Just don't touch anything!" Honestly, Flux, what else is there to do here?

Honestly, I'm beginning to think it's a bad thing that she trusts us, as she's working on fabric-of-reality type stuff.

Knocking down the huge, blinking-lights thingy couldn't hurt, could it? Especially since the batteries didn't seem to be inside it? "But then," said Mort, "How is it blinking?" Thankfully, we managed to cover our tracks and get the helm out of there before Flux showed up.

Right now, I'm trying to think of my decision to run as a blessing instead of a curse...

It was a typical day at Edward Teach High. Y'know, nothing fun that should be, and something odd like English being the best thing ever. But still, you end up looking forward to lunch all day. Except after it, of course, when you look forward to tonight's Guitar Hero party.

Gotta have the cliques in a stereotypical high school setting. You know, preps, jocks, emos, girls who are way hot but probably total jerks. Can't think of the word you would typically use for thems. I was glad I didn't look like a nerd/geek, the conglomerate that had to be made because of increasingly small numbers, since our territory (i.e. table) was at the end of the room. There was probably jeering and all that. Or maybe everybody's too self-absorbed to care. I noticed Mort and Cassie didn't seem emotionally scarred.

In fact, I realized as I sat, Mort was the only one who looked all that nerdy. And that was pretty much just the glasses.

Mort took a break from simultaneously eating a sandwich and playing Pokémon to do the secret handshake. All the best groups have to have those, I tried to reassure myself as I glanced self-consciously about. Luckily, he and Cassie were too locked in epic combat to notice.

Deciding it best not to disturb them, I ate in silence for a while, regarding other nerds busy playing their Yu-Gi-Oh and Magic: The Gathering and, on the far end, Dungeons and Dragons. Basically too focused to have a conversation with. Socializing was tough today without a DS, deck, or very special piece of paper.

One game ended with a frustrated sigh and a triumphant laugh. Mort gave his famous line: "What kind of self-respecting trainer uses potions?"

"Yeah," Cassie jokingly agreed, "Or EV training, or breeding, or far too many vitamins."

"At least I fight with honor."

"At least I fight with power!" she laughed, taking a swig of chocolate milk.

I managed to stop Mort before he managed to start playing his dejected game of Dr. Mario. "How's it going?"

He looked surprised. "How do you think? I just got my butt kicked. You wouldn't believe the Special Defense on Cassie's--"

I rephrased the question. "How is your life outside the virtual plane?"

He had to think for a moment. "Well, I've been a little worried that Flux is gonna invent a death ray and need test subjects."

"I don't think she knows about the last one yet."

A loud beeping silenced the room. We kind of learned our lessons that time when they turned the intercom way up to be heard and we were deaf for the rest of the day. Not fun.

"Attention, students."

Yeah, why bother? You've got it.

"Please do not be alarmed."

Fire drill.

"This is not a drill."

Excitement sparked up. A real fire?

"The school is now under quarantine."

Better not be a real fire. But with our staff...

"The cooties virus--"

Uh-oh.

"--has made a sudden reappearance."

As long as we're quarantining the virus out...

The principal's voice... changed in some way. I couldn't quite make it out right then. "Inside the school."

The entire school broke into screams of "Oh, crap!" and similar.

Laughter. I hoped it was of the oh-man-this-is-gonna-hurt-best-case-scenario variety. "Fortunately, there are enough biohazard suits--"

Phew.

"--for me."

No, that was evil laughter.

"I have to thank the local mad scientist for the mutant variation. I hope there are at least 493 of you."

What was that supposed to mean? And why did that number seem so familiar? Wasn't the local mad scientist Flux? Didn't she teach Basic Mad Science class here?

As the school erupted into general chaos, Mort answered one of the questions I hadn't actually asked out loud. "493. There are 493 Pokémon..."

"What a coincidence?" Cassie said hopefully.

"I don't think so. Just don't ask." I sighed, mentally preparing myself for the horrors ahead. "Mort, this is partly your fault."

"What?" he demanded.

I corrected myself. "I mean, if my theory's correct."

That seemed to be a relief. I wondered what that could mean.

Mort, Cassie, and I banded together. All the rest of the nerd/geek clique were "too old for that stuff" to listen to us. Originally, we thought we should meet in the Mad Science classroom, but then we remembered Flux's odd behavior recently and decided on the band room. No one would take refuge there.

I took charge. I had a tendency to when Tracy wasn't around. "So, Mort," I said, hitting my most authoritative pose, "any exits open?"

He scoffed. "I told you it was a dumb idea. Angry mobs have already tried all of 'em. And they seem to be unbreakable."

"Cooties is probably going fast," I muttered. "Cass--what did I send you to do again?"

"Mad Science room is locked. No sign of Flux."

"Hmm." I wanted to say "good," but I wasn't sure this was good. "Either of you infected yet?"

Mort checked his hand. "Not that I can tell."

"I think I'd notice," said Cassie.

"That's good," I said. "Okay, let's go over it again. No way out, no way to get to Flux, no way to the principal. But I refuse to just let us sit here until we have to resort to cannibalism."

"It'll only kind of be cannibalism by the time we're through," said Cassie.

"As long as I don't get Nidoqueen, I think I'm good," said Mort.

"Could that happen?"

"Maybe. I don't--"

"It didn't happen with the pandemic."

"Yeah, well, there were only, like, three Pokémon in the pandemic. Hardly a reasonable--"

"Will you two stop talking about it like it's inevitable?" I yelled.

"Will you stop pretending it isn't?" Cassie replied, much calmer than I was. "Look, I'm thinking we can wait, and then figure a way to escape with our new powers."

"Also, I better not get Magikarp or Chikorita or Goldeen, or, like, Jynx--"

I massaged my temples, groaning quietly. "No, escape isn't an option, either. Then it would spread."

"Would it really be that bad, a world of Pokémon?" Cassie asked, sounding as philosophical as she could.

"Yes," was the short answer. "You remember the pandemic? Think that, but superpowered."

She had an excellent imagination. I could see her horror clearly as she said, "I see."

"I'm hoping, say, Bulbasaur. Though I guess Butterfree wouldn't be that bad, even if it is girly, 'cause it can learn some--"

"Shut up, Mortimer!" I snapped. "I think I have a decent plan now."

"Well, let's hear it then!" said Mort, clearly ticked off.

I pushed back my anger. A leader was stronger than this. "Okay. We need a cure, and we can't leave and spread it, even if we could. This kind of stuff couldn't be done by a normal scientist; we need a mad one. That's Flux. I don't care what just happened; she's our only hope right now."

Mort was stunned. He didn't expect logic from me. I guess I get that way when I'm stressed.

"Can we wait a while, though?" Cassie asked. "I wanna try out the Pokémon thing for a little while. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"You might be Jynx."

The sheer horror of this paralyzed her. All except for her mouth, I guess. "Right. Let's get to it."

This is the end of side 1. To continue listening to "PMD: EoN," please fast-forward to the end of the tape and flip it over.

Best. Game. EVAR.

In case you hadn't noticed, Pokémon Mystery Dungeon 2 is my favorite video game of all time. The gameplay honestly isn't all that great without some motivation. So how the crap is it such a great game?

The answer, my friends, is the plot.

The plot is what makes a truly great game. Don't give me any of your graphics crap, Microsoft. You too, Sony. (Of course, the graphics aren't bad or anything. It's just that this generation of consoles, you can't see imperfections in the 3D-ness unless you get waaay closer than you'd want to. Hecks, I couldn't tell on the GameCube.) Gameplay had better not be dumb, either. If I have to go through a bunch of /crap/ to get the story done, I--don't like. Also, crappygamedesigners, there's a fine line between fun-challenging and /stupid/-challenging. Also music. Music makes a good game. Good music, of course.

Anyways. The plot. I don't know. It's one of those games that I cried at the end of. I-it was touching, what can I say? (Oh, good, now I have to address the issue of crying in video games.) Everything seemed well-timed. Just when I was getting tired of pointless exploration, I get some real tasks. I admit I haven't gone all the freaking way through. It's just I get hungry for more world saving and start the game over.

So, about the crying thing. Have you ever cried during a movie before at a character's death or death equivalent? Or a book, Brian forbid? (I'm not sure I used that phrase correctly.) What's the difference? I'll tell you what the difference is. In a book, the character's actions are all in your imagination. In a movie, you watch them happen. But in a video game, the actions are, essentially, actions you have made. The video game is the only medium that can identify you with the character so fully. Why can't they be seen as what they are, another storytelling medium? Probably because a lot of them actually aren't, but let's not get into that.

Anyways, we managed to get off the topic of the ultimate game and onto the topic of my philosophical superiority. My apologies.

Umm... I'm pretty sure I can end this post here, right? Please? Well, I don't care what you say; I'm done.

Sporking with Dex 'n Izzy

Credits: Everything was my idea. And Izzy's, but she doesn't actually exist.

No, no. Story credits: Oh yeah. This week's episode was brought to you by:

Glacial Eidolon, famed (or not) writer of Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: The Black Fear.

Dextrose: Hey everybody, and welcome to the first episode of Sporking with Dex 'n Izzy!

Izzy: Since nobody actually sent us something to spork (not like we can expect them to), we're gonna have to go to Fanfiction.net... on our own.

Dextrose: -shudders. but in a manly way.-

Izzy: Ready to go?

Dextrose: Erm, let me gather up some lances first...

-several minutes later-

Izzy: Here it is. The fabled Fanfiction.net. A land of--

Dextrose: Yeah, I know. Let's just get it over with.

-they enter-

Dextrose: So, uh, let's stick to a genre I know. Games fan fiction. -examines categories- Wow. I didn't know people made fan fiction about this stuff. Army Men? Bubble Bobble?

Izzy: I saw a Bill Nye the Science Guy one once.

Dextrose: You're kidding.

Izzy: I wish.

Dextrose: -more manly shuddering- Oh my freaking Brian. Tetris.

Izzy: Zoombinis?

Dextrose: LET'S GET OUT OF HERE! Pick one and go!

Izzy: Pokémon! That looks relatively safe.

Dextrose: Oh my. How about not? Let's do a Pong one...

Izzy: You know what? Too freaking late. Got your Sporktastic Lance ready?

Dextrose: Yeah, okay. Got the brain bleach and Cure Disease +3 ready?

Izzy: Check and check. Here we go.

Dextrose: -holds breath-

Izzy: Random story... Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: The Black Fear.

Dextrose: Probably not a misnomer.

Izzy: Calm down, Dex. Maybe you should start being as manly as you always claim.

Dextrose: Or... lizard-manly.

Izzy: Whatever. "'Watch it, scum!' A tiny purple rat with--"

Dextrose: Ratatta?

Izzy: Yeah, I guess... "blah blah larger gray bipedal weasel--"

Dextrose: Furret!

Izzy: Linoone?

blah blah key distinguishing features: one of her ears was red and and slightly larger than the other...

Dextrose: Oh, it's that one thing. What's it called?

Izzy: Sneasel?

Dextrose: Yeah. No. Not was I was thinking of. It was... you know, um... Zangoose.

blah blah Sneasel...

Izzy: Aww yeah! Score one for the Izz.

malicious thoughts... unrestrained rage... mind blinded in rage...

Dextrose: Ooh. The Sneasel is an angstmaster.

Izzy: Angstmaster?

Dextrose: You can leave the mastery comments to me, thanks.

[PURPLE PROSE]

Dextrose: -drowns-

Her destination? She did not know. She was a Decivilizer: a term associated with outcast criminals

Dextrose: Really? Outcast criminals? I let /my/ criminals run around free.

serving time of banishment from villages.... Decivilizers were often nefarious pickpockets and murderers who bore ill will towards society

Izzy: Oh, good. And I suspect I'm supposed to sympathize with her?

Dextrose: Whoa, whoa. Murderers?

Izzy: It's certainly a dark world of Pokémon you've created.

Dextrose: Don't they just, like, poof back to town if they die?

Izzy: Be quiet; we might miss something good to spork.

She may have been a criminal, but she still had morals.

Dextrose and Izzy: Riiiiight.

"Let we of the Heart of Arceus pray to our god for the wellbeing of ourselves and our children... let we of the Heart pray to Arceus to stop this era and restore prosperity...

Izzy: And now, Pokémon religion.

Dextrose: -manly giggles-

A young Mareep,

Dextrose: Yaaay!

...couldn't comprehend why, of all things, Arceus had ignored her prayer and everyone else's.

Dextrose: Try praying to me -poses-

Izzy: Blasphemy, Dex. Sit down.

"Get over here, we've got some [Briandarned] Aggron on our [bottomuses]!"

Izzy: And now, Pokémon swearing.

Dextrose: I love how the author goes into such detail over... Pokémon... details. Okay actually I don't, but you know what I mean.

a huge red exoskeleton

Dextrose: He he he... that phrase just cracks me up for some reason.

Izzy: If you were to ask me, there's no time for purple prose in a fight scene.

yelling colorful swears as he did so.

Dextrose: Oh, goldenrod!

thick armored skull was pounded into a pulp

Izzy: Pokékilling... just seems wrong.

Dextrose: Poképrophecies aren't exactly wrong, but... dang it, stupid copy-paste! -mutters-

her eyes were among the best she'd seen

Dextrose: She looks at her eyes?

copper-colored orbs

Dextrose: Oh my freaking Brian. They're /eyes,/ okay?

incredulous nature of the situation soak into her cranium.

Dextrose: Drip... drip... drip...

pale red fur... bright red fur...

Izzy: Geez, make up your mind!

"My... my... my... my... my... my... my... my... my..."

Izzy: Looks like somebody's keeping up with a word count.

skewering the small rodent's body in one fell swoop.

Dextrose: -cries- More Pokékilling! Waah!

Authors Note: Nothing much happened... besides fluff

Dextrose: Well, now the truth comes out, doesn't it?

Izzy: Here comes another Pokémon! Let's try to figure it out.

five-foot tall purple Promethean hulk of pure muscle, his very body embodying the essence of fitness

Dextrose: I vote Machoke.

Izzy: Probably...

rabbit-like, impressively sized ears

Dextrose: Huh? Rabbit of muscle?

Izzy: I don't got a clue.

Dextrose: Horn... spikes... pearl-white chest... Giant muscular Ratatta? With, uh... spikes?

Izzy: Or maybe...

Nidoking

Izzy: Awright! Two points!

Dextrose: No way. You didn't say before.

Izzy: Hey, I think it has a Scottish accent.

Dextrose: Heh.

"Verawen."

Dextrose: A-ha! So they /do/ have names!

Izzy: vu-RAY-win? ve-ruh-win?

Dextrose: Let it go, Izz.

"Name's Fjalburin."

Izzy: I'm not even gonna /try/ that one.

Dextrose: Okay, making up for the lack of copy-paste. Verawen's the Sneasel. She's teaming up with a dude named Epsilor.

Izzy: I was all intrigued.

Dextrose: And it's a freaking Bronzor.

Izzy: Hey, another character.

yellow-and-cream colored bipedal shrew

Dextrose and Izzy: Sandshrew.

Sandshrew

Dextrose: So, what do you think? Do we each get a point or neither of us?

Izzy: Whatever.

Dextrose: And it's named Griva.

Izzy: GREE-vuh? Gree-vaaaaaaaaaaa!

Dextrose: ...

he was winking at herself

Dextrose: Um... Izzy, fetch the Big Book o' Grammar.

Izzy: How about I get you an underling to do your dirty work?

Dextrose: No, no, my dirty work is washing dishes.

the Sneasel's heads

Izzy: And now, Pokémutants.

Dextrose: So they're called Team Nemesis? Who let them have that name?

Izzy: Would it be the Nidoking with the unpronounceable name?

Dextrose: I guess... but that's not the point. I'm making fun, Izzy. Not logic crap.

Izzy: Fine, fine.

Dextrose: So should I worry about the "not using the story or characters without permission"?

Izzy: Uhh...

Dextrose: Oh, wait. We're obscure enough to get away with sporking.

Izzy: We can hope.

Dextrose: Okay, next chapter. Braindead Vulpix's point of view, apparently.

Izzy: Can we find a more blatantly bad fanfiction next time?

Dextrose: Quiet, I'll miss something.

Izzy: Just the purple-prosation of the same room for a second time.

Dextrose: SSH!

ovoid

Dextrose: No comment.

"Xochicalco," I half-lied.

Izzy: I'm not even gonna touch that one.

Dextrose: What the helm. Witty comment about how that name /better/ be a lie.

furor

Dextrose: No comment.

"Yer mouth spews [poop] as well as your [bottomus]!"

Izzy: You barfed up your butt?

"woot ya did was completely unacceptable."

Dextrose: I thought he was speaking in chatspeak for a second there.

blah blah blah end of chapter 4.

Dextrose: That's all, is it?

Izzy: Apparently so.

Dextrose: Good. -shudders-

Izzy: Shall we abscond, then?

Dextrose: -checks wrist sundial- Either it's bedtime or I'm at the wrong angle again.

Izzy: So I noticed that last shudder wasn't "manly."

Dextrose: What?