Eevee TF Series
Ron reached into his pocket and searched for the map he had printed out before leaving home. He looked up to find a few street signs and matched them up with the names on the map. He calculated, while receiving strange looks from passersby, that his hotel should not be too far off.
next right, then
3 blocks, and then
a left?" He was trying hard to read the map while walking into and out of the crowds. He was not having much success however, running into several people along the way. Every time he bumped into someone he had to look up from his map and sincerely apologize before resuming his navigation. This happened five more times before he sighed in frustration and sat down at a nearby bench to study his route. Tired from the sleepless night and nervous in the face of the bustling new city, Ron stayed seated for a while to recover.
He took a short break to relax and take in his surroundings. Seated, he noted that the streets before him were not as busy with cars as he had thought, and people seemed to move around in thinner crowds. Looking up and down the street before him, he got a look at the taller buildings in the area, most reaching ten to fifteen stories. As he glanced around he realized that he had accidentally taken up a whole bus bench for himself and his luggage. He sheepishly peeked at the slightly annoyed commuters that were standing around him. Quickly he placed his bags on the ground in front of him, and a woman with a young child promptly took the seat he had opened up.
The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties, a few years older than Ron. There was no way she could be the mother of a child as old as the one she had on her lap. The boy was no older than ten, and was holding a small handheld gaming device in his meticulously busy hands. The electronic music pouring out of its small speakers was difficult to ignore.
Slightly uncomfortable, he was preparing to stand again, when the child yelled out-
"All right! GO VULPIX!" The boy's guardian quickly shushed him, but she was utterly ignored.
At hearing the name, Ron felt a bit intrigued. The name sounded familiar and somehow close to him. He leaned over to investigate. The child was absorbed in his game and paid Ron no attention until he spoke up.
"Hey, uh, whatcha got there?"
The suddenly startled child looked up at Ron with surprise, as if caught doing something wrong. Trying to show bravery, he replied, "Uh... sorry, ma sister told me not to talk with strangers, and you sure look strange to me."
Ron brushed the statement off and looked up at the guardian who was listening to her music player, completely unaware of him. He continued, "Sorry, I'm not trying to be strange, I'm just a little curious as to what's that you're playing with there."
The boy dropped his shoulders, giving in. "Well, if ya really must know, mister, I'm playing my new Pokémon game." He pointed to the lower-left part of the device's screen, turning it slightly towards Ron, and then pointed the top right. "That's my Vulpix, and the other one up there is an Eevee."
"I see..." Ron nodded, not having a clue what the boy was talking about. "And... pardon me for asking but, what do they do?" he continued, slowly becoming entranced by the shape of the creature in the bottom-left. His eyes narrowed into a perplexed stare. He was almost certain that the "Vulpix," as the boy had called it, was in fact the same thing he thought he'd seen in Don's cab as it was leaving earlier.
"Well," the boy paused to figure out how much he was willing to tell this strange stranger. "Vulpix, she's a fire-type and Eevee's a-" at this point, a city bus had crept up in front of the bench and opened its blue doors to pick up passengers.
"All right, Donald, let's go," said the sister, reaching for the boy's arm.
Resisting slightly, the boy defiantly grumbled, "Laura I told you, call me 'Don.'" After saying this, the boy got up, keeping eyes and hands tightly clenched onto his game. The older sister led the boy onto the bus, firmly holding his arm.
Wait a second, Don? Ron sat in a daze again. The memory of that fox-like image blinked back into his mind. Vulpix... Don... my cab driver, that kid
that accent of his
As he thought to himself, he was interrupted by bus driver yelling out the bus's front door, "Hey, you plan on getting on anytime soon?"
Ron stammered a bit, "O-ah, no... no, I'm just sitting here
" The driver shrugged. As the bus closed its doors, Ron looked over and saw that the child had left something on the bench next to him. It looked like some kind of toy, a metallic ball the size of his fist. It was painted with deep red on one half and white on the other, and had a small white button on the border. He had no idea what it was, but it didn't matter; he had to get it back to its owner.
Before he could even grab it however, the bus was already sailing down the next block, carrying the oblivious owner of the strange orb into the twisting, towering steel jungle. Before long, its blue paint was completely swept away by the swift flow of noisy, colorful traffic, blending into a camouflage; gone.
"Oh." Ron sat back down, and felt slightly guilty. It was most likely that little Donald would never see the little orb again. Ron looked over at the curious little ball, and picked it up to investigate. Perhaps there was a name or even a phone number on it, he thought.
His fingers felt the cool surface and lifted it up. To his surprise it felt a lot heavier than he expected. It fit almost perfectly in his hand, like a baseball. He gently touched the button with his thumb, but decided against pushing it, in fear that it might make some sort of embarrassing electronic racket.
He realized that he probably looked ridiculous for studying a child's ex-possession with as much fascination as he was giving it. In fact, he was getting quite a bit of attention from the crowds that were passing by him, some double-taking upon the sight of a grown man handling a colorful child's toy.
What is this thing? He thought impatiently. He tried without success to remember what the kid had told him. As much as he tried he just couldn't remember exactly what game the kid said that he was playing. At the time, he recalled being too engrossed by the images he saw on the lit-up screen. The strange orb he did remember seeing at some point in the kid's game. It must be related to the game somehow. Oh, this is stupid... but which game did he say?
Suddenly he began to hear indirect comments from the crowds about his appearance, and he heard the familiar name: "Pokémon," a few times in the passersby's conversations.
Yes! Pokémon! That's what it was. But, how does that help me? And what am I going to do with this
thing? Ron furtively put the ball into his coat pocket and pulled out his map again. Focusing on getting to his hotel and avoiding any more crazy encounters, he determined his location and that of his destination. "Huh?" He gathered his belongings, stood up, and turned around. In front of him was a two-story building. The sign on the front of it read:
The Black Cat Inn and Hotel
"Oh," said Ron, sarcastically, "well isn't that convenient." Ducking through the current of the crowd, he made his way to the elegant front door, trimmed in worn-out brass, and into the lobby.
The thick glass door closed behind him, and he suddenly realized how loud the streets outside were; the room was dead-silent. He half-expected the entire lobby to explode with laughter because of the foolishness he had just exhibited. Despite it being nearly impossible for the few people in the lobby to notice him getting lost right outside his destination amidst the crowds of people filling the city blocks, he felt like every eye in the room was on him.
As he walked up to the front desk of the lobby, he heard a sound that he had not heard in almost a whole day- his stomach. Indeed it was loud, but not nearly as loud as the streets of Coledge. He had been confined to a cramped little cab for several hours, and even though he recalled eating a filling meal before leaving his house, he was starving again. He also noticed a need to use the restroom, as Don's cab certainly was not accommodated with one. All of these facts in mind, he rushed to check in and receive his room key. As he approached, a young secretary talking into the hotel's phone behind a computer smiled gently up at him. She hung up the phone and looked back at him before greeting him.
"Hello sir, welcome to the Black Cat. Do you have a reservation?"
Confidently, Ron replied, "Yes, for Ron Caverte. That's C-A-V-E-R-T-E."
The woman immediately switched her eyes over to her computer. "C-a-v-e
yes, there it is. Mr. Ron Caverte. Here is your key, room number 3-116." She pointed to her left. "Down that hallway, take the elevator to the third floor, exit to your left, make another left, and it will be the last room on the left. Got all that?"
"Oh, I hope so. That's a lot of lefts!" Ron held out his hand and the woman handed him the key, along with a pamphlet about the hotel. He thanked the woman and headed around the counter the way she had instructed, and started confidently down the hall. For the first time, since leaving home, he had an actual idea of where he was going.
He found an elevator on the left of the hallway and pressed the only button that appeared, labeled "UP." He stood waiting for a while, and then heard the loud DING of the elevator. The doors opened. A man jogged out of the lift, and Ron jumped with a small yelp, but the athletic man was not what made him jump. Behind the man came a small, chocolate-brown dog on a leash. As the pair ran past, Ron made a brushing-off motion and, still staring at the dog running down the hall, walked toward the elevator. However, in the chaos he hadn't noticed the elevator closing on him, and he ran right into the door. Not the most graceful move, if a graceful move he had ever made that day. Annoyed, Ron pressed the button again, prepared for anything.
The door immediately opened without a sound, which again caught him off-guard. He rushed into the elevator with his luggage and pressed a button with a large, black "3" on it. The doors started closing, when someone from the hallway thrust their arm into the doorway.
"Hold up!" a woman's voice called from outside.
Ron reluctantly mashed the "DOOR OPEN" button on the elevator's panel, and the doors stopped closing, reversing directions to open up for the new passenger. While they squeaked open, the doors revealed another jogger with another dog. This dog was a little larger than the last jogger had, and its fur was bright golden-yellow. The woman motioned for her dog to follow as she slid into the car. The door finally closed, and the elevator started to slowly lift the three up.
"Thanks, man," she offered between gentle pants. "These ancient things they call elevators always take forever." She leaned over and scratched her retriever's back.
Ron didn't acknowledge the compliment. Instead he stood still and pointed at the dog in front of him. "Err
"Oh, that's Sassy. We exercise together."
"Well, I figured that, but
why are there dogs in the hotel?"
"Hah, you mean you've never been to the Black Cat before?"
"Erm... as a matter of fact, this is my first day in Coledge." He scratched the back of his head nervously. He decided he'd had about enough awkward social interaction for one day.
"Oh! Well then, excuse my ignorance," she replied with some sarcasm. "The Black Cat makes its reputation by offering a decent hotel experience without having to leave pets at home or in kennels. They allow any and all animals to stay here with their owners, without any complaints from staff or other guests. The doors and walls are mostly soundproof, and the rooms come equipped with accommodations for your animals. They even have pet food available for room service- it's a really interesting experience if you ask me. Definitely relieves some stress, having your pets with you."
The elevator chimed, and the doors eventually opened. The ride was in fact about two minutes between each floor. Ron reached over, avoiding the dog, and collected his belongings.
"Cool, we're on the same floor. Well I guess I'll be seeing you later then?" The woman and her dog quickly exited the elevator and flew right down the hall. Ron slowly stepped out after them and made a left, and followed the directions he was given, or at least whatever he could remember of them. He turned left at the end of the hall, and sure enough, there was room 116 at the end of the block of rooms, on the left side. He inserted his key card and the door unlocked itself. Ron sighed happily and pushed the door open.
The woman he met in the elevator wasn't kidding about the soundproof doors; the door was at least two or three inches thick, and took a bit of effort to swing open and to close it behind him. He was finally where he needed to be. The rest of the day was his. He could finally relax for a bit.