Episode One: Into the Horizon

The cameramen smiled as they filmed the young girl. They occasionally gave a thumbs up or a nod whenever she spoke to the camera, and didn't forget to give encouragement when she was doing a good job, silently of course, as they didn't want to make the editing of the documentary too difficult, firstly because it would mean the documentary would take quite a while to edit if they had to painstakingly edit the sound and cut out everything a member of staff said, and secondly because they knew that the editors would shout at them for it.

They followed Rosie onto the boat and continued filming her. The shot was perfect, Rosie was standing on the boat and a gentle breeze had whipped up and was blowing through the air, causing her hair to flow in the wind in such a perfect way. It was truly a perfect shot, or at least very close to perfect. When Rosie stopped speaking the camera's were put away. "Cut!" said one cameraman. They then went on to shower Rosie with compliments, such as how they thought the words that she had chosen were perfect and how she had done a great job at styling herself that morning. The had considered getting a stylist but the documentary didn't have a high enough budget for such luxuries, and they most definitely did not want to blow their budget on things that were completely necessary. Besides, the way she had styled herself gave her a natural and believable look, and since it was the style of the documentary, it was meant to seem like they were capturing the true meaning of her journey, and having her looking unnatural or too dolled up could really cause the documentary to get a bad name.

A small crowd gathered around Rosie and the camera crew, perhaps around nine or ten people. They gasped in amazement that something just so happened to have been in the process of filming on the very ship that they had just so happened to have ended up on. One boy approached Rosie from the crowd. "So you're heading to Dewport? Am I perhaps right in saying that you're going to challenge the Rustboro City gym?" he said.

The boy smiled at Rosie. "I'm returning to Rustboro City for my rematch against the gym leader, the last time I battled Roxanne I selected my Roselia to battle against her as it has a type advantage against her Rock typed Pokemon, but, as the name goes, they were as tough as rocks themselves. I've trained my Roselia hard and even practised to counter her techniques, but even still I have doubts about victory" the boy spoke, sounding almost triumphant about his 'glorious' defeat against the gym leader of Rustboro City, Roxanne. He then leaned in close to Rosie's ear and whispered, "I wouldn't want a poor little girl like you be humiliated on camera." He then pulled back and began walking towards the other side of the ship, waving with the back of his hand. "Well, I have things to do, good luck in your gym battles, young miss, you'll need it," he concluded, arrogance writhing in each and every syllable he spoke of the sentence. "What a jerk..." one of the cameramen commented after they once again stopped recording with their large handheld camera.

A foghorn blew from one of the large pips on top of the slightly rusty ship. The ship had departed quite a few moments ago now, and looking back, the horizon was slowly but surely minimizing, Rosie's home town seeming to be walking away from her after everything that she had been through there, without even so much as a wave. Of course, she was the one that was leaving it. One of the members of the camera crew turned to Rosie. "Looks like the ship's departed a little further, we'd like you to make a farewell comment on camera and then you can have some free time on the ship, we'll do another shoot tonight and you can talk about what you've been up to on board, and what kinds of thoughts have been on your mind," she said, rolling the camera. The other members of the small crew also began recording, and the boom mic was lowered again, ready to amplify Rosie's words.

As Rosie explored the ship the scent of delicious, fresh baked pastries and cakes, with a hint of savory laced within it wafted through the air of the hall that she was in. The halls were all very basic, the walls were painted a very monochrome white which also expanded over the doors and the ceiling, an occasional circular disk-shaped light built into the ceiling blocking the boring and basic white of the ceiling, and the floor was overspread with a loop pile carpet, not exactly soft but better than nothingwhich was a faded, almost pastel red in color, and this particular hall was no exception to this standard design scheme. A nearby door had a special "KITCHEN, STAFF ONLY" sign printed over the blurry, translucent pane of acrylic.

The door suddenly burst open and a man in a white uniform with a tall white hat emerged, the door making a slight creaking noise as it was swung open. The smell burst out of the door the second it was pushed open, the smells becoming more clear and concentrated. For the brief second it was open it seemed that inside was a bakery, as some pastries lay on a surface and there were various kilns and stone bake ovens, the actual kitchen must have been attached to the bakery, hence why the pastries were giving off a stronger smell than the more savory foods. The door swung shut as quickly as it had opened, and The man stopped in front of Rosie, his smart black shoes making a clicking sound as he did so. "Are you lost, my dear?" he asked Rosie with a smile on his face.

The man looked down at Rosie and chuckled lighty, his nose twitching slightly as he did so. "Not exactly, the dining room is attached to the kitchen, so I'm afraid it's over at the other side of the ship," the man spoke, with a smile on his face as he did so. The scent of fresh baked treats was fresh on the man's uniform, although there was no sign of anything having been spilled or splattered on his uniform, it was fresh and clean, perhaps the fragrance was just so strong that it rubbed off on your after being in the bakery for an hour or such.

The man then rose back up to his feet, keeping the smile on his face. "Don't worry though, it's not too far. In fact, I'm heading that way anyway, I'm trying to get to a storeroom for some ingredients and it's close to the dining room. If you're stuck, I could take you there if you would like?" he offered, still smiling at Rosie.

The man once again chuckled, and smiled down at Rosie. "Honestly, I love everything that I bake, I always wanted to become a baker and well, I guess my dreams came true, but honestly, there is one thing I love to bake more than anything else. You have to promise not to tell any of the other bakers, though," he said, a little patronising to Rosie but sweet in the same sense. He stopped walking for a second, his shoes once again making a clicking noise, and bent down to Rosie. The smell of baked treats from his uniform once again built up slightly as he did so. "My favourite thing to bake," he whispered, "Is a bagel. It may sound a little boring at first, but what I like about them is that they each have their own personalities, according to who is eating them, and there are limitless possibilities. For example, one person might fill them with cream and strawberry jam and sugar coat the top, making a sweet tasting bagel, and another might fill their bagel with Parma ham and mozzarella with butter, making a savory bagel." He smiled at the girl and spoke again, "I guess they're kind of like people." He then got up and walked on through the halls, leading Rosie to the dining hall.

The dining room was quite busy at that time, now that the ship had left the dock and everyone had settled down a little many of them must have decided to grab breakfast, similar to what Rosie had done. A waitress suddenly approached Rosie, holding a plate. She had a smart uniform consisting of black shoes, a black skirt, a white shirt, a black bow tie and a black vest. She also had a white handkerchief loosely draped over the forearm of her right arm. She smiled and lowered the plate. "Complimentary from the chef," she said sweetly before returning to the kitchen. On the plate was a warm, fresh bagel, and there was a note that said, "Toppings are on the counter. From Daniel." The note was referring to the food counter, where there was a section with various toppings and filling for things such as bagels and baguettes. It must have been from the baker that she was talking to a short while ago.

Suddenly a small pink creature found its way onto Rosie's lap! It was a Cleffa! The little star shaped Pokemon looked around, seeming lost, panicked and worried. After Cleffa's little moment of panic it all of a sudden fell asleep! It was now curled up on Rosie's lap, the sweet warmth of its body heating Rosie's lap up. She made a purr-like noise as she slept, almost resembling a yawn. It was lying perfectly still, except for the puffing of it's chest from the inhaling and exhaling of air. The tips on top of its head twitched occasionally in an adorable way. After about fifteen, twenty seconds of sleeping it suddenly sprung to life, cheering "Cleffa! Cleffa!" It jumped up and down on Rosie's lap, full of cheer and glee. It suddenly stopped, it must have remembered that it didn't know where it was again. It then started to panic, flailing around slightly and looking all around to see where it should be, but it seemed so far it had no idea where in the world it was meant to be, or even where it had come from. A very forgetful Pokemon indeed.

The Cleffa did its own version of "calming down", by stopping hyperventilating and jumping up and down. Instead, it look around in a panicked fashion,exclaiming its name several times. It didn't jump around but it tapped its feet as it did so. The dining room was still quite busy, some people were walking around as well, and it definitely didn't help poor Cleffa see where she was meant to be. It very much seemed that Cleffa was lost, but it seemed that even Cleffa wasn't sure where it was meant to be. Perhaps it was a trainers Pokemon, it would make sense as if a Pokemon were to loose its trainer it would be difficult for them to locate the trainer again, especially if they are a busy place like the dining room.

The Cleffa kicked its legs wildly as it was picked up. It giggled and flailed a little. Supposedly the sensation of Rosie's hands on her tiny little body felt ticklish to the little pink fairy Pokemon. After being elevated to above human head level it had quite a good view of the dining room, meaning it was in a perfect position to find out where it was meant to be.

After a little while of looking around in a circle, Cleffa suddenly exploded in excitement. It flailed its arms, pointing desperately in a certain direction, its legs kicking very hard. It seemed that it had spotted something, perhaps it was its trainer, perhaps it was where it was meant to be, perhaps it was where it had come from, that was for Rosie to find out.

Cleffa smiled, giving a call of its name. It then hopped onto the floor and squeaked along the floor with its little, somewhat pointy feet. It was quite a small Pokemon however, and wasn't even taller than most people's knees. A truly tiny Pokemon, Cleffa became confused and disorientated with all of the feet swinging past it. Everyone was going in a different direction, it didn't know what was happening. It stopped walking and began to look around frantically. It had gotten lost again. It began to panic and started flapping its arms, squealing its name and looking around in all directions.

The little baby Pokemon, Cleffa, was lifted into the air once more. It stopped flailing around and relaxed a little. The little Fairy Pokemon looked around again. It then began to point in a direction again, the same one as before. Now that Rosie was standing up, it was possible to see where the little Cleffa was pointing. In the direction of Cleffa's hand, was a little girl, probably around 5 or 6. She was crying and looking around frantically. What seemed to be her mother was holding her comfortingly, as if trying to calm her down and stop her from panicking. It seemed that the girl was Cleffa's owner. Cleffa must has wondered off, and the little girl must have been looking for her lost little Cleffa.

"St-Starla, is t-that you?" the little girl asked as Rosie spoke, rubbing her tearful eyes before turning the wide ovals toward the older trainer and her own Pokemon. The little girl's wails quickly subsided as the Cleffa jumped from Rosie's hands into the excited, loving arms of her trainer. The two seemed to speak to one another as if they were identical twin siblings, in a language that only the two of them could comprehend. The Pokemon's little round tail wagged rapidly back and forth, causing the little girl to slightly rock on her feet from the momentum. The girl's mother lowered her daughter gently to the ground and smiled toward Rosie with a warm, motherly type of aura.

"Oh, thank you so much!" she said, "we've been looking for poor little Starla all day! My little Emmie has been frantic and crying all day, it feels nice to get a little peace! She turned and seemed to dig around in a small purse resting on her hip for a moment and withdrew a piece of paper money. "It's not much," she smiled, "but here's my thanks for reuniting my two little girls. I think this is the first time they've ever been separated. And all because they were too excited to see the oddly colored Surskit that's rumored to be around here somewhere. We never caught a glimps, but little Starla was determined and went on her own, maybe she saw it!" She held her hand out and offered Rosie $200.