This world is inhabited by creatures that we call pokemon. People and pokemon live together by supporting each other, but now the scourge threatens the safety of the entire region. Kohaku has become a dangerous place, where children stay at home and only brave souls go adventuring.
Welcome to KOHAKU. Come for the nightmares. Stay for the tea and crumpets.
The season is SUMMER. It is easy for survivors to forage for food from the land, as there are entire abandoned farms ready for harvest. On the downside, you can smell the corpses.
swarms
GRAND OPENING !
Welcome to KOHAKU REGION's grand opening! If you're interested in joining, come check out our grand opening giveaway!
Convenience stores were odd. Karp Rosewater was on the short side, so a creepy old man loitering outside offered to buy him cigarettes. He ignored, got spat at (not on), and was almost jipped at the counter, inside. He asked for a map of the city, and the foreign cashier tried to overcharge him. The cost was quite visible, but still, this fool tried to cheat him. A life on the road wasn’t worth all this hassle, he thought. The kid wasn’t complaining once he hit the streets more organized.
Karp improved his walk with a little people watching (don’t judge). This city was perfect for that brand of gobbledygook. Comfortable middle-aged women walked with passion and over-thought their domestic stresses. Young folks jogged. They had to look mighty fine for their significant others, of course. Tardy for the biggest meeting of their careers, a few businessmen frantically crossed intersections. This place was a homier Proserpina. Karp felt quite a balance here; he smiled ‘til he reached the big ass lab.
“HOUSEKEEPING!” The Cura Villager shouted as he hopped up the porch-steps. Much more earnest candidates left footprints that Karp simply skipped upon. He then knocked a cute tune on the wooden entrance. He figured whoever lived here would appreciate it.
Had Ms. Sybil called for housekeeping again? Or was it Mr. Krauss this time? How many times did he have to insist that his work place was clean enough as it was? Every paper had its place, despite them being scattered across desks and stacked to his knees from the floor. It was an orderly mess! "C-coming! I-I'll be right there!"
The door creaked as the researcher pulled it open just far enough that he could peek outside over the rim of his glasses. "Y-you have the wrong home!" Cypress stuttered in a panic, trying to close the door as his face brightened with a blushing red. "T-try... try next door! M-my work space is clean as it is."
The professor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his hands rubbing clean on his lab coat. He hadn't been expecting company. Were the Rattata back in their cages? Were the chemicals out of this young man's reach?
The villager itched the side of his nose and awaited some kind of welcome. Karp knew he heard some racket on the inside before a man’s voice affirmed that the place wasn’t vacant. In no time, he’d be out of the metropolises and doing outdoorsman things like swimming in rivers, chasing wildlife, and poking dead scourge with a lengthy stick. The excitement gathered in his throat. He tried and failed at breathing deeply to seem calm. His face was flushed, and to the onlooker, he looked like an uncomfortable brat in a tank top. Luckily, he was greeted by an equally discomfited science guy. One who thought he was actually housekeeping. Karp chuckled so hard he almost slapped his knee. His eyes watered and everything. It took a ton of self-control to return to a respectable state.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m no housekeeper, nor am I a prankster for that matter.” He had to wipe beneath his eye: the tears were escaping. “A man in a suit told me to visit. I shall be engaging the scourge threat these upcoming months and detailing my journey.” Karp stuck out his hand to shake. It seemed like the right thing to do. It probably was.
"A-aha! An Eos trainer," Cypress gasped whence he'd realized his mistake. He threw the door in, an apologetic smile breaking across his face as he went in a nervous handshake. He politely bowed a couple of times, as an apology, and tried to usher the boy inside. How could he have been so rude? So clueless?
They had work to begin immediately if this boy wanted to fight the threat outside of these walls. The researcher waved his hand, insisting that the trainer followed. "R-right through this door!" He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaned against the door, which fell right open- Cypress catching himself on a desk before he could fall on his rear. The man's laugh only grew more nervous. Maybe the boy hadn't noticed.
After all, there was a wide selection of Pokemon scattered across the floor tiles, chasing one another's tails, and dozing in the corners. Cypress's expression turned to horror. He had left the room for no more than thirty seconds, and the Pokemon had already resorted to chaos.
The speed at which life moved was facetious. The second after he put out his hand, he was escorted inside, in a rush. The panic this professor conveyed was invigorating. The boy had to hasten to meet this man’s hustle. There weren’t any introductions or “here have some tea”s. This was business; a whole different ballgame than Karp’s norm. The boy followed the signal like a professional. He adapted at once to the pace of the scenario. The occasional noise that the scientist made was a little off-putting. There was little judgment, however; the boy merely figured that the man was peaking a very exceptional caffeine rush.
Within moments, Karp found himself deeper in the esteemed laboratory peering down at a set of potential partners. The ends of his smile nearly stretched off his face. This is bloody fantastic.
“Hey, pal. Maybe you do need a little housekeeping.” The boy naturally walked into the pokechaos and knelt to greet the creatures. The seedot rushed him, trying to topple him over. It seemed malicious which Karp didn’t abide by. The pichu was particularly adorable but did not seem appropriate for his job description. He was going out to hunt some mythical apocalyptic monsters not gather flowers and picnic. The koffing reminded him of his father’s damn hankering for the cheap and unfiltered. He wasn’t in the mood to relive a childhood of secondhand smoke wheezing.
A moving shadow on the ground had him looking up. A golden cotton swab descended from the ceiling sky with glory. Karp could only point in wonder. The swablu perched on his extended hand and faced him with the dead pan of the century. This one was a badass.
The researcher had plucked a Pokeball from the table, clicking the button and letting it grow in size in his hand. It was the Swablu's ball, and he handed it to the boy. But, with it, Cypress also started to pile five more Pokeballs, a potion, a revive, and a trainer card too. The man was eager to get this new trainer on the road to saving the region.
Thinking he remembered everything, Cypress scuttled back, his fingers tapping together and smile nervously widening. "That's it then! U-unless you have questions. I... I-I have answers," the man coughed, gaze bashfully darting to the side. He was a professor, after all! Of course, he had the answers. But he didn't want to sound too proud admitting it. "I-if not, then don't let me take up anymore of your time!"
Shifting from his choice, he watched the prof’s very mechanical procedure. Karp had no doubt that this four-eyes gave out critters on a daily basis. Each and every day, the scourge became more of a threat. The same suits that sponsored him must’ve sponsored many others. Holding his new belongings close, the boy wished to play an important role in this war.
“One more thing. You’ve probably studied this scourge.” Karp breathed deeply, showing a sober side for once. He filled his pockets with inactivated balls and items while speaking. “What’s my chances out there, really?”
Cypress's shaking hands had stopped and his lips had pursed into a thin line. His head lowered and eyes darted away. He knew it was a serious question and, when it came to the scourge, the researcher had to answer honestly. "With one low-leveled Swablu, you won't stand a chance against the scourge," Cypress stated, his voice suddenly taking a rather grim tone to it.
The man let a silent and hesitant moment pass before he let out a short bout of nervous laughter, his timid smile trying to get onto his lips again. "B-but with training! Lots and lots of training... you'll go far! P-potential. You... you have that," Cypress shuffled where he stood, taking a sudden interest in staring at his own boots.
Convenience stores were odd. Karp Rosewater was on the short side, so a creepy old man loitering outside offered to buy him cigarettes. He ignored, got spat at (not on), and was almost jipped at the counter, inside. He asked for a map of the city, and the foreign cashier tried to overcharge him. The cost was quite visible, but still, this fool tried to cheat him. A life on the road wasn’t worth all this hassle, he thought. The kid wasn’t complaining once he hit the streets more organized.
Had Ms. Sybil called for housekeeping again? Or was it Mr. Krauss this time? How many times did he have to insist that his work place was clean enough as it was? Every paper had its place, despite them being scattered across desks and stacked to his knees from the floor. It was an orderly mess! "C-coming! I-I'll be right there!"
