"Nothing is impossible, just highly unlikely. If I believe that, then the world seems much more interesting than if I didn't."
Jack, your average eighth grader in Grosse Pointe, MI, was on his way home from rehearsal, relieved to have no homework and frustrated as to what to post on DA next. He wanted to do either a dragon or Latios TF, but everything he came up with ended up cliche or flat out bad. It sucked. When he got home through the cold of January, He decided to try again at his project, this time going with the dragon.
"All right, nobody in particular, let's hope it works out this time," he said as he pulled a pencil, a filled-up notebook, and some paper out of a drawer. Jack began writing. It didn't even take five minutes for him to get disappointed with his work. He balled up the parchment and threw it at a small trash bin. It was an excellent three-pointer. That cheered him up a bit. He decided to do one of the many things he was holding off on. "Hey Mom? Could ya drive me down to Staples?"
"Sure. How come?"
"I want a new notebook. My old one's been filled up for months now."
"You have that many 'game notes'?"
Jack rolled his eyes. Once his mom caught him writing, and Jack said he was taking notes on one of his games. He figured it was better than telling her he wrote about people getting transformed into something else for one reason or another. That, he figured, would just make him look more insane than he already did. Now he wasn't sure if that was the best idea. "Sure. And it's not all notes. I do, ya know, actually write and draw stuff in it."
They were about a floor away, but Jack knew his mom was putting on her "oh really" face.
"Oh, really? What then?"
"Various things you would either find really interesting or would just make you think I've lost my mind." That much was true.
"Whatever. Go get your coat on."
Jack threw on a North Face hoodie, a Burton ski coat, and his Legend of Zelda hat. It was kind of his trademark. No one he knew had anything like it. Prepared for the inevitable chill, he stepped into the garage, climbed in the car, and started up his copy of Pokemon Black 2. He went to Staples, picked out a decent size notebook, paid up, and headed home.
When Jack opened the notebook, there was a warning label on the inside cover.
Warning: Do not write works of fiction in this product
"Pfft! What else would I write in this?" He decided to skip through the plot and just write the transformation scene. He'd work around it later. It wasn't too hard. Jack felt he could write someone into anything as long as he could get his hands on a picture. His work complete, Jack closed the notebook and slipped it into a drawer.
For the rest of the day something just felt off. Like, he wanted one of his stories to happen to him, except more than usual. Jack sped through dinner, and pulled out his notebook. He figured this could be a surge in his ability to write what he writes, and didn't want to waste it. He tore it open, and his previous entry was gone.
"What. The. F."
Cue eyeroll. "Yeah, sorry Mom!"
It made no sense. He was positive he had written that TF, and now it was gone. It didn't look like it had been stolen by his brother (it wouldn't be the first time), and Jack couldn't have dreamed it up. First of all, he didn't even own the thing for an entire day. Second, he never dream dreamed. Just daydreamed. So why was the page blank? His hands felt weird. They spontaneously bulked up and became more resistant. Blue feathers grew on the backs, and his fingers fused and hardened into three claws.
"Okay, that may explain it. It would appear I'm turning into a Latios. Awesome! Damn, I should stop talking to myself."
His arms shrank, particularly his lower arms, which were barely visible. The transformation continued to the rest of his body. Two massive wings rapidly (and painfully) sprouted from his back, destroying his shirt in the process. His eyes swiftly turned a deep red. His legs shrank until they were nonexistent, leaving these sort of stubs Jack assumed were his feet. Without his legs, he obviously was unable to stand up, but was fortunately on his bed. By now his entire body was covered in grey-and-blue plumage. A red triangle appeared on his chest. There were some rather sickening pops and cracks as his neck grew a few feet longer, and his face took on a slightly draconic look, and his ears grew upwards and pointed. His body gained quite a bit of mass, also becoming extremely aerodynamic, and it was done.
"Heh. Good thing I know how to handle this kind of this on a dime. Transformation Survival Guide for the freaking win! Plus, the Latis are just awesome. Yeesh, I thought I was going to stop talking to myself." As a complete Latios, Jack figured he would be able to float around, and could break the sound barrier if he wanted to. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do either.
"Jack, lights out. Get off the- Oh my God." His mom, not being a gamer, had no idea what a Latios was, so had the opposite reaction some other people would've had. She ran off to get her husband, and Jack was trying to figure out what to do. He figured that even if he thought he was speaking English, humans would just hear "Latios" for pretty much everything he said. Telepathy? Maybe. He was a Psychic-Type after all. But, like floating, he didn't know how. Refract light to appear human and distract his parents? Worth a shot. It was better than getting Animal Control called on him. Or he could just find Peter. He was quite the Pokemon fan (but not nearly as much as his brother), and knew one of the critters when he saw one.
"Peter! I am a Latios!"
Peter, curious, walked into Jack's room. He had a much more satisfying reaction to the legendary on his brother's bed. "Holy barnacle sauce, a Latios!" He was also incredibly random.
"The name's Jack. Got it memorized?"
"Wait here while I get Jack, kay? He is gonna have a total fangasm!!!"
"Maybe he would if he wasn't- Hey! Mother is having a spazz attack and I need you to explain what a Latios is to her so I don't end up in the Detroit Zoo!"
"YO! JACK! THERE'S A LATIOS IN YOUR ROOM! I DON'T THINK YOU WANT TO MISS THAT!"
"Peter, get back in your room! There's some kind of monster in here!"
"You mean Latios?"
"Yeah, Dad. You mean Latios?" Jack loved being a deadpan snarker,
It took a few hours, but Jack eventually got the message that he was turned into a Pokemon around the household. Needless to say, they were shocked. Ben and Peter, not so much. They knew beforehand about Jack's desire to be a Pokemon, and Peter kind of saw it coming sooner or later. Ben just took it the same way he took everything: with a "Meh, whatever." Floating and flying ended up much easier than Jack expected, refracting light wasn't to hard, but he never figured out telepathy. So basically, he had to remain completely silent when in public. A few hours after awesomeness (in Jack's opinion) happened, something appeared in his room.
"Ngh... Go away, Ben..."
"Sorry, but I ain't Ben."
Jack snapped fully awake. There was some kind of outline of a person standing right next to him. "Get. Off. My. Bed."
"That is sooo what she said. That's what you say this century, right?"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Well, if you must know, I'm Quentin Trembley. I was a wizard, but then I died. That notebook is something I enchanted, plus it's my Horcrux. Since you're a muggle, I'll explain what that is."
"I've read all seven Harry Potter books and seen all eight movies. I know what a Horcrux is, Trembley."
"Ah, whatever. The notebook should recharge in, oh, maybe a month. Then you can use it again for whatever you want."
"Maybe I'll give myself speech. Now I would like to get some sleep, thank you very much."
"I'll be right in the book if you need me..."