There was a time, he was told, where the sky had once been blue. Plus, there was something called a "sun." He didn't know what that was, but apparently it gave something called "light" to the world below it. He was told that this "light" shimmered down to the Earth when the sky was nice and blue. He was told that if the sky wasn't blue, it would change to a deep, polished black by nighttime. It was a marvelous thing, he was told.

But the sky is a scary, clouded veil of dark violet. Not blue. Not black. Not the kaleidoscope of colors at "sunset" (whatever that meant). The sky was dark.


There was a time, he was told, where the place he lived in was once called Floaroma Town, where people and pokémon lived together happily. It was said that the field were always blooming with different flowers, and that the trees were abundant in only the sweetest, ripest berries. He was told that pokémon liked being with common people like him. He was told that this town was very peaceful.

But the town he lives in is called Town 31-4, where poor, hungry people wallow around the streets. The field is nothing but a heap of ash and cinders. The trees are bare and cold. The pokémon are bitter and violent. This town was anything but peaceful.

Like it always will be.

There was a time, he was told, where people called each other by something called "names." Not numbers. He was told that your name would be made up of three words. Not regular words like "Raven" or "Fire," but "name words." He didn't what "name words" were, but he liked the idea of it.

He liked the name "Hayden." It was much better than the numbers 2539 that was tattooed on his hand.

Right now, Hayden was kicking around gray pebble, hands shoved in his tattered pockets. His curly dark brown hair fell in front of his bright, amber-brown eyes. He stood tall as he absent-mindedly walked to Hob's eroding mess of a house.

Hob was very old, that Hayden knew. His name wasn't really Hob; he claimed it was "Barry" or something, but his hand that held the number of 26 told otherwise. It didn't necessarily matter, though. Everyone called the old man Twenty-Six, except for Hayden. He called Twenty-Six "Hob" because of the way he hobbles around.

Even though Hob was old, he had the personality of a child. Always wanting to be part of the action. Some people called him crazy because of the way he talks to little children. He tells them all about the days when pokémon were allies, not enemies. No one believed him. He told the fantasies where the world wasn't barren or cold or bitter. No one believed him. He said how he was there when the world turned over to the hands of Cyrus. No one believed him.

Hayden didn't believe him either, but he liked the idea of it. He liked the idea knowing there was some form of hope before the world came downhill. Even now, whenever he closes his eyes at night, he pretends to see a light blue sky with a "sun" shimmering down rays of "light."

But he always saw black.

"You're late!" cried Hob, wiggling angrily in that rotting rocking chair of his. "You know, I shouldn't even tell you a story! Keepin' me waitin' like that. . . Have you have no respect for the elderly? My time is numbered!"

Hob ranted on, his orange eyes as blazing as ever. Hayden ignored him; the boy silently sat down cross-legged on the damp, dirty, cement floor. If this world might have been like "before" like Hob told him, Hayden might have cared whether or not his shredded pants were getting filthy. Hayden didn't care though. His whole life has been nothing but a disgusting mess.

"Oh, whatever," Hob mumbled, crossing his bony arms childishly. "You're the only one who listens anyway.

Hayden didn't reply. Instead, he quietly traced circles in the dirt.

"Anyway, 2539—" Hob was interrupted by Hayden's quiet response.

"My name is . . . Hayden."

Hob scrunched up his wrinkly nose. Obviously, the guy didn't like to be interrupted. "Anyway, Hayden," Hob said. "Our story today is about time and space."

Hayden looked up. He always enjoyed story time.

"Long ago," Hob said with an air of mystery to his voice, "when I once had beautiful, golden locks of hair that drove the girls crazy,"— Hayden laughed at this— "there were two essential powers in life that no one dared to seize. These powers were called time and space. Two divine beings, Dialga and Palkia took possession of one power: Dialga took the power of time, while Palkia took the power of space. The two were never to meet again. Dialga then took home in a different dimension than ours, just like Palkia.

"People back then were respectful to pokémon. They thanked them and worked with them. In your case, Hayden, a Starly would not try to bite your head off back then. Everything was peaceful. But, there was one man who decided to stop this. He organized a team so he could take control of time and space. He took drastic measures; He stole the beings who guarded the three lakes of Sinnoh—And by Sinnoh, I mean Region 4-56— and created horrible things just so he could summon Palkia and Dialga from their rightful dimensions.

"I tried to stop them. . . I really did, but . . . !" By now, Hob's eyes were glazed, looking straight through Hayden. Hob sighed, taking a deep breath. "Long story short, I wasn't able to save the world."

The brown-haired boy looked at the old man with a strange mixture of anger, confusion, and disappointment. Hob didn't meet his eyes; he was too engulfed in the past to see his Hayden. The elder took in a exasperated breath, wobbling as he sat up from his rocking chair. Hob hobbled toward a dusty shelf, his bony finger clasping around a surprisingly well-carved wooden box. Hob waddled as awkwardly as a psyduck back to Hayden, who was still sitting like a small child.

"My time may be over," he said quietly, his eyes flaming, "but yours may be not. . . 2539— I mean, Hayden, you better clean up my mistake. Make this world right again. Or . . . Or else you'll have to pay a fine!"

Hayden cracked a small smile, taking the box from Hob's hands. Gingerly, he opened it.

A small, red and white ball was tucked safely inside it.


Here are the possible roles you guys can get:

(3) Protagonists

(5) Bad Guys

(1) Mysterious Guide (you know, a person to keep our protagonists on track)

Another of my OCs will be joining, but I promise you she's not a Mary-Sue.

Here are mine:

Name (numbers): 2539

Fake Name (letters): Hayden Baker

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Town: Floaroma Town

Personality: Quiet and soft-spoken. He is calm and calculating, and tends not to speak often. He's a bit naïve and doesn't know the evils in the world except for the ones that Hob told him of. He's not necessarily intelligent, living in such a horrible society. He's extremely terrified of Starly because, if you didn't read closely, you can see that there was a time a Starly tried to bite his head off. He's a bit scared of pokémon, but he doesn't hate them.

Appearance: Curly, dark brown hair and light amber eyes. He has a dark olive complexion, and stands tall around 6'1. He's fairly slim and muscular. Tattered vest over a light blue shirt that's cuffed at his elbows. Shredded shorts… and faded shoes that were once white, but are currently a gross brown.

Flaws: Too quiet, doesn't really understand the hardships in life, naïve, and is terrified by Starly.

Skills: very good with pokémon later on, knows which roots are edible, and is a trusty person for telling secrets.

Pokémon (ONLY ONE!): You'll see~!

How they got their pokémon: Hob (AKA Barry) gave it to him.

Love Interest: I'll search through the girl OCs

Role: protagonist

And here's the girl OC….

Name (numbers): 7162

Fake Name (letters): Kambri Eldin

Age: 15

Gender: Female

Town: Veilstone City

Personality: Mean and hot-headed. Very deceptive and untrustworthy. She curses like CRAZY, and runs into fights even though she's extremely weak. She's sarcastic and witty, and she has a hard time making friends or being nice for that matter. She hates to admit that she's wrong. As you open up to her, the tough charade is gone, and instead you see a poor, helpless girl trying to survive in this horrible world. She's really cute when you see her all helpless like that, actually, but you hardly see it. She's a tough piece of work. . .

Appearance: Messy, black hair tied by old rubber bands into a side ponytail. Her bangs fall in front of her steel-gray eyes and an annoying cowlick stands straight up on top of her head. She wears a tattered jacket over a tight undershirt and a men's cargo pants. (Yes, she knows it's for men but she doesn't care.) Black sneakers that are falling apart.

Flaws: Self-conscious, hot-headed, stubborn, easily offended, weak, HATES pokémon, and steals things

Skills: quick, always pushing herself, and understands the cruelty of people

Pokémon (ONLY ONE!): You'll see~!

How they got their pokémon: You'll see~!

Love Interest: I'll look through the male OCs

Role: protagonist (XD)

Your turn!

Name (numbers):

Fake Name (letters):







Pokémon (ONLY ONE!):

How they got their pokémon:

Love Interest:


Thank you! No Mary-Sues! No Gary-Stus! Also, password to send an OC is "Hetalia rocks!" If you don't then you won't be accepted. Okay? PUT IT IN THE REVIEWS SECTION ONLY!