Just An Egg's Dream...
"Smells good Brock. Will it be ready soon?" She asked hopefully. Brock turned and nodded at her, "Actually, we're really just waiting for--"
"FOOD! Alright!! We eat!!"
"Pika, Pikachu!" Ash dropped the firewood he'd been collecting and raced over to Brock. However, he didn't get very far before Misty stuck her foot out, causing him to fall flat on his face. "Owe!!" Ash sat up rubbing his head. "What the hec did yah do that for?!"
Misty scowled at him, "Ash, quieten down already. Togepi's asleep."
Ash glanced at the sleeping pokémon and reluctantly apologised, before sticking his tongue out at the red haired teen. Both he and Pikachu moved to sit beside Misty on the log. Brock walked over beside his three companions and watched Togepi with interest.
"Hmm, I wonder what pokémon dream about." Brock thought out loud.
Ash laughed, "Oh, that's easy. Pikachu dreams about winning battles and collecting badges, just like me!" Pikachu leapt onto his lap, "Ay, Pikachu?"
"Pika!" Pikachu nodded grinning.
Misty smiled at the two then returned to Togepi in her arms. "Yeah, but I don't suppose Togepi really knows much about battling."
Ash rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I suppose you're right." Brock straightened up and walked back to prepare their dinner. "Well, I guess we'll never know. But it sure is nice to wonder about."
Ash smiled a little, then glanced at the sleeping Togepi again. "Yeah. Wonder...."
Porta Vista, April 10, 1912. The day of Titanic's maiden voyage. A crowd of hundreds blackened the pier next to the ship. On the pier horsedrawn vehicles, motorcars and lorries moved slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere was one of excitement and general giddiness. People embraced in tearful farewells, or waved to friends and relatives on the decks above.
A white Renault, leading a silver-grey Daimler-Benz, pushed through the crowd leaving a wake in the press of people. Around the handsome cars, people and pokémon were streaming to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and porters, and barking White Star Line officials in their crisp, new suits.
The Renault stopped and the driver scurried to open the door for an elegant young lady. She was dressed in a stunning white and purple outfit, topped with an enormous feathered hat. Seventeen years of age and stunningly beautiful; regal of bearing, with piercing aqua blue eyes.
The lady, Misty Waterflower, looked up at the ship, taking it in with cool appraisal. "I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the St. Anne."
A personal valet opened the door on the other side of the car and out stepped a dashing young cerulean haired man by the name of Butch Hockley.
Butch may have been handsome and rich, but he was arrogant beyond meaning. "You can be blasé about some things, Misty, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than the St. Anne, and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, training gyms, Turkish bathsneed I go on?"
Misty sighed huffily before glancing back at the enormous ship which would carry her to her long decided fate across the seas. Why did she always see things so differently to *her* people?
She smiled, "We haven't even left the port and already you're sea sick." The young woman set the pokémon down and smoothed out her long flowing dress. "Come, let us get back to the upper class fools." The Vulpix yipped and trotted ahead. She took one last glance back at the ocean and sighed.
Finally managing to tear herself away from the scene she walked along the boat deck, hardly paying any attention to anybody passing her. Suddenly, a sharp pain hit her arm, sending her flying back into reality. The young woman looked up with an unfriendly expression. Spikey auburn hair fell over his face, partly covering his soft brown eyes. But she had no time to notice his good looks.
She glared. "Is that how you always address a first class lady?" She snapped. The man simply grinned at her, cocking his head to one side.
"I have to admit I have a knack for knocking beautiful women off their feet." He smiled, slipping his hands into his pockets. The girl snorted in disgust and pushed passed the stranger. The man turned on his heel and followed her.
"Sowhat's your name?" He asked eagerly. The woman blinked in surprise as she realised he was following her.
"And why should I tell you? Don't you even realise who you are speaking to?" The man shook his head.
"That's why I'm asking." She sighed, irritated, but at the same time slightly amused. "Well, I tell you what." He said, taking her hand and leading her to the railing. "I'll introduce myself first. The name's Gary. Gary Oak." He extended his hand towards hers. The young girl took it reluctantly.
"Crystal soon to be Astor." She replied quietly.
Gary cocked his eyebrow. "Soon to be? Well what about at present?" He asked, still holding her hand in his. She swallowed nervously and gazed down at her feet.
"EmberCrystal Ember." Gary smiled, letting go of her hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ember."
Brock glanced behind him, then back at his old battered stopwatch. "Come on or we'll be late!" He shouted to his companion over the noise and bustle of the port.
"We're already late!" The young man shouted back as he tried to catch up with his friend who was already nearing the entrance to the ship towering above. His rugged black hair fell in front of his eyes as he continued to weave in and out of the bustling crowd. Frustrated, he flicked a dark lock of hair out of his face, but not in time to see the elegant young red hed directly ahead.
He crashed into her at full speed, knocking her off of her feet. The boy looked up with big pleading, dark eyesuntil he saw her. Her feathered hat had fallen from its perch, revealing a mass of silky orange hair. Her elegant form was so rigid and first class, yet something about her screamed out to him.
Through all the hustle and bustle, a gravelly voice could be heard calling her name repeatedly. "Misty! Let me through here. Misty! I'll save you my darling!!" It was Hockley of course, coming to the rescue as always. Lady Waterflower glanced up as she recognised the unmistakable form of her soon to be husband.
Finally, the young man's senses came to as he heard someone calling for the Lady he had blindly ran in to. Yet still, he could not move. It was as if the distant calling of her name had frozen him to the very centre of his being. MistyMisty? His mind repeated over and over until suddenly he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see the tanned face of his friend.
"Brock?" He asked, still a little dazed. Brock nodded hurriedly, oblivious to the goofy smile painted on his friend's face. On his shoulder sat a little yellow rodent who was crying out impatiently.
"Pika, Pika!" It cried, frustrated.
Brock stood up and glanced at his stopwatch for the hundredth time. "Come on. We're late enough as it is!" Brock exclaimed, turning on his heel and heading for the steerage entrance. The young man nodded and got to his feet. He paused, taking one last look at the mysterious lady he had literally fallen for.
A small smile danced on his lips as he watched her depart. MistySo her name's Misty
Over the noise of the bustling crowd, the rugged young man heard his companions call his name.
"Come on! We gotta go, Ash!"