Set 7 of the pokédex mini drabble collection. I'll update the page as I finish more pokémon that fall into this number range. In general these drabbles will cover a wide range of genres/subjects/etc., hence the vague summary below; if anything warrants a special note, however, it will be mentioned here.
Genre: Varies, usually General
Rating: Varies, usually K
Approx. Wordcount: 100 words each (700 total)
Newest Additions: 309 Electrike, 316 Gulpin, 323 Camerupt, 325 Spoink, 330 Flygon on 12/03/2016
"Shame about Nightstone," Diamondeye said, shaking his head. "He was a good sableye." The other sableye nodded solemnly, some raising the rocks they'd been gnawing on in a toast.
"A good sableye," echoed Rockgnasher. "The kind of guy who'd give you the gems off his back if you were hungry."
"And poor Rubyglare all alone..." Goldseeker gave Rubyglare a sympathetic look. "Such a shame, losing a mate in his prime..."
"He was a good sableye," Rubyglare agreed. "But there'll always be a part of him within me." She smiled and took another bite of the sparkling sapphire in her hand.
Most pokémon appreciated the forest's wide selection of berries, but the meditite found it more stressful than anything else. So many enticing colors, so many wonderful flavors, so difficult to narrow down her options... oran, wiki, grepa, nomel, or maybe that leppa over there...
She could hear the master sighing behind her, imagined him rolling his eyes as she compared an aspear and a babiri for the third time. Time spent scrutinizing berries was time not spent achieving a higher state of being, blah blah blah.
She only got one berry a day. What was wrong with making it count?
Lillipup, Growlithe and Riolu bounded into the car, tails going a mile a minute. Electrike followed, frowning. "What do you want me to do?"
"You stick your head out the window and open your mouth and then the car goes and whoosh! It's like you're running super fast!" Lillipup said. The others cheered.
The car started. Electrike poked her head out next to Riolu. There was definitely wind in her face, but at what... like forty miles an hour?
She pulled her head back. "I don't see what's so great about that," she huffed. "I can run faster by myself!"
"Catch, Charmeleon!" Graham threw the popcorn into the air. Charmeleon scrambled to catch it in her mouth... and failed.
"No points," said Ricky, tracking the score in his notebook.
Purrloin tried a fancy backflip to reach his trainer's popcorn. He missed. Mienfoo only just grabbed hers by vaulting over Charmeleon's head.
"Now Molly has three total, Elsa has two, Graham has three and Kevin has... fifty-six," said Ricky.
The other kids groaned. Kevin shrugged and idly flicked another kernel to his pokémon. Then another. Then another. Each fell neatly into his gulpin's gaping mouth without so much as a twitch.
Why, Jared wondered as his camerupt plodded up and down Route 117, did two cousins have to turn ten on the same day? Why did they both have to love eevee? And why was he the only one in the family with an espeon, a ditto, and the ability to give little Tony and Tina the best birthday presents ever?
Riding along on Camerupt was pretty relaxing, though. She was warm, at least, and comfortable in spite of the lumps and stones.
Plus, he thought, patting the tiny volcanoes on her back, she came with two convenient built-in egg holders.
Spoink's pearl was looking decidedly dull these days. What was he supposed to do for a replacement, though? He'd experimented with every sphere in the house:
Lizzy's basketball? Too big, too flat.
That rubbery superball from the vending machine? Too bouncy. It rebounded off his head and hadn't stopped ricocheting around the hallway.
Grandma's bowling ball? Noooot gonna happen.
His poké ball? Nope. It just kept pulling him inside. But it gave him an idea...
"Ta-da!" he squealed, flouncing into Lizzy's room to show off his new look. Lizzy's voltorb bounced between his ears, angry smoke billowing from its seam.
She was going to die in this desert. No water, no shade, no rescue... a gale kicking the sand into a storm...
She raised her head at the first few notes. There were no words, just a melodic humming, rising and falling with the wind.
The sandstorm made it impossible to see, but if she could follow the sound...
She stumbled on; she didn't know how long. The song grew louder, clearer, then died away. The sandstorm faded with it. An oasis sparkled before her.
There was no sign of the singer—only a green flash vanishing into the sky.