Culture Wars (Chapter 13, Critical Inquiry Into Education)

[Magmar]

Hi all! So, I haven't written a fanfiction in eons, and I thought I'd try something new and take a stab at writing again. I've been inspired to get back into it, so I've started with a basic concept, spent two hours just designing a protagonist, and so here we go. Let's bring some new life back to the Fanfic forum! Cheers

Initial notes: The story will take place in Kanto. Only the original 151 Pokemon will be mentioned.

Culture Wars

: Premise :

At the center of the worst disaster in the history of the world, Damian Czszewicz makes a wish. His wish comes true, and he finds himself in a foreign world where nothing he learned in his sociology program applies. Trapped on an alien world populated by curious creatures, Damian's only chance for success is to adapt to the peculiar lifestyle of its inhabitants. Even the children are forced into participation in the violent mainstream culture. There is no concept of race here, or ethnicity, or religion. There is only life, and it wasn't like life on Earth at all. How can Damian integrate into this new society?

Chapter 1: The World Has Turned and Left Me Here

It was senior week at Suffolk University, and Damian Czszewicz had never felt so alive. As the barren Boston streets began to show hints of spring, the air filled with the smell of pollen and the sounds of music and laughter. It was time for t-shirts and shorts, Ultimate Frisbee on the Commons, and parties every evening. It was the very best time of year.

The sky was particularly blue on this Tuesday, April 25, and the temperature easily surpassed 70 degrees. Sea breezes pushed flower petals down busy city streets. The pavement shone back up at the Sun, radiating its dirty heat upwards, killing the last of the winter frosts. Nature was celebrating, too. It was a wonderful time to be alive and here.

Always the optimist, Damian couldn't bring himself to look down. His dreadlocks felt scratchy as they rubbed against his shoulders; he was wearing a sleeveless shirt outdoors for the first time since October. The sun just looked so beautiful, so bright and warm, and Damian knew his days here were numbered. Graduation was in less than a month.

It was the first time since January that Damian was not walking with a backpack full of textbooks. He had just sold them back to the bookstore. It was the last Thursday of classes, and he only had one exam this term. He had defended his research project in his seminar class. Other than his math exam next Wednesday, he had effectively finished his major and minor. One more exam, and he was finished.

He felt light on his feet. He felt alive. He felt free.

Watching Damian play Frisbee on the Common, a passer-by may wonder why this man never seemed to not be smiling. Whether it was his pride in graduation, his successful defense of his independent research into the sociocultural advantages of societies that lack a strict gender dichotomy, or just his gentle demeanor, there was something about Damian that made him somehow seem so much cooler than most other 21 year-old college students. Damian was the perfect best friend; he never caused trouble. In fact, it was rumored that he had never been in a fight. Never sarcastic but always armed with a good story, Damian was more comfortable in his own skin than most people are in their favorite pair of sweatpants.

Nobody knew he would disappear overnight.

--------

It was about 11 p.m. when Damian returned to his apartment in Cambridge. A large third-floor apartment just three miles from campus, this was his first experience of true independence, having lived in the dormitory in his previous years at the school. Although he had a part-time work-study job checking students into the campus gym, his parents paid his rent and utility bills. His father was a dentist, his mother was an accountant, and his older sister was a math professor. He never had to do without, but he wasn't handed everything in life.

As usual, his three roommates were smoking marijuana and playing a video game. Although he tried marijuana once, it wasn't Damian's cup of tea and he stopped as soon as he started. He was never into drugs and didn't smoke cigarettes either. He enjoyed drinking at parties or at local concerts with friends, and was always first in line to go down to a pub for a White Russian or a Long Island iced tea with as many slices of lemon as the bartender would allow. If there was one thing Damian disliked more than canned vegetables or Tyler Perry movies, it was carbonation.

After saying good night to his roommates, Damian went into his room and switched on the small fan in the window. It was a humid night; it might thunder at any time. He checked his iPhone and saw he had had messages from two of his friends with benefits, Jay and Beth. They both wanted to come over and watch a movie. Self-identifying as pansexual, Damian could have gone either way, but tonight was a night for relaxation. Tomorrow was the unofficial Senior Night, and there would be many parties.

Damian looked around his small room for his laptop. He wanted to watch a movie, perhaps a Harry Potter movie or another French film. He was really getting into foreign cinema, but he loved falling asleep to Harry Potter. He didn't really have nightmares, but sometimes he'd dream he was at Hogwarts. He was cool with that. His best friend since middle school, Lana Lovejoy, reminded him so much of Luna Lovegood; the name could have been selected by JK Rowling out of sheer irony of Lana's life. He missed her.

Damian browsed his Netflix account for a while, but eventually selected a Polish romance film that he had never heard of. Despite being Polish, Damian didn't know the Polish language at all. His mother's mother was a Jewish World War II refugee from Poland who had escaped to America just before the invasion of Poland. His grandfather was from Haiti, and so was his father. He often joked about being the only Haitian Polish Jew on campus; his older sister, Sandra, had often told him to be a good sport and to have fun with his identities. This had inspired him to study gender in the first place; he felt his own identity was so unique that surely there were limitless unique identities in the world, each with their own experiences. He learned to never expect someone to intuitively understand how to pronounce his last name the first time; he also became accustomed to the strange looks older people sometimes gave him when they thought his name and his being of color did not match up. He accepted it as a sign that he was ahead of the times with his own mindset, and vowed to dedicate his life to changing the culture so that a future Damian Czszewicz might not have to deal with the same awkwardness.

The movie began. Damian checked his iPhone one more time. He had gotten his daily horoscope, 12 hours late ("Dearest Gemini, today your expectations will be exceede--click to continue reading") and a news alert about an earthquake in Asia. He plugged in the phone and sat on his bed, untying his favorite pair of black combat boots. It was then that he realized it was garbage night, and it was his week to put the trash out on the street. "Dang it," Damian said under his breath, pausing the film and re-tying his shoes. He stood up and went to leave his room, but stopped and looked in his full-length mirror for a second. He still wasn't even used to seeing himself in shorts and a tank top. It was the first proper day of spring, after all. His slim frame looked back at him, his long dreads half in front of his collarbones, half behind his neck. He had an athletic build but very slim. His chinstrap and goatee were dyed with strawberry blonde highlights. His skin had gotten lighter over the winter; if he landscaped again this summer, he would get the tan back. Damian's shirt only came down to the belt of his shorts; if he raised his arms, his bony ilia were exposed. He was not afraid to wear a little less.

Knowing the temperature had dropped a bit, Damian reached for the nearest t-shirt and put it on over his tank top. It was his favorite shirt, a Silversun Pickups shirt he had gotten at a show last August in his hometown in Delaware. He had met the band that day; although they were not his favorite, the shirt was autographed by the band members. He wouldn't admit it, but he had never washed the shirt. He briefly checked himself in the mirror again. Somehow the shirt exposed even more of his waistline, but he didn't care. He dressed like this half because he felt sexy, and half in solidarity with his women friends who occasionally got cat-called and harassed while walking in the city streets. If he was present, he'd retort that everyone is beautiful and deserves to be comfortable in their own skin.

Noticing his shirt again, Damian grinned a bit remembering the concert. His bright white teeth, perfectly in a row, were a testament to his father's effectiveness as a dentist. His acne was flaring up a bit, as his skin got oily in the springtime. Although his skin was not perfect, he was happy with his body. He never felt ashamed.

Damian left his room and went straight to the kitchen to grab the garbage. It was mostly full, but in general the roommates were consistent with taking care of things around the house. He changed the garbage bag, noting that soon they would need more bags for the bin. They still had two more months on their lease, so another trip to the wholesale outlet would be necessary. He went out the backdoor and hauled the garbage bag into the bin. Pushing it out into the street, he saw his roommate Joanna sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette. He walked over to her.

"What's up Jo-Jo?" he said, noticing that she was frantically texting on her phone.

Joanna, who was usually calm and collected like Damian, looked up at him. "Did you hear about the earthquake in Texas?" she asked, appearing alarmed. "It happened about a minute ago. My whole family's from Texas."

Damian grew concerned for his friend. He put a hand on Joanna's shoulder. "I didn't hear about this. Did you hear from your mom or brother at all yet?" It was then that Damian recalled that the news alert spoke of an earthquake in Asia. "I heard one just happened in Asia, too."

Joanna nervously took a drag of her cigarette and quickly replied, "There were two in Africa on top of the Russian earthquake."

Damian began to feel the nerves in his stomach bubble up. He noticed the sky had gotten cloudy and there was heat lightning in the sky. He realized he had subconsciously grabbed his phone and it was in his pocket. Taking out the phone, he saw three news alerts regarding the earthquakes Joanna was talking about along with a notice for a severe thunderstorm warning. He pulled up the weather app and saw there was a storm approaching, but elsewhere the map was quiet.

His phone chimed again. Earthquake in Bangladesh. Catastrophic damage.

"Shit," Damian said, as Joanna seemed to suddenly look relieved. "What did you hear, Jo-Jo?"

"Family's fine, the earthquake happened on the other side of the state," Joanna said. "But I guess it was really, really bad."

"There was one in Bangladesh too, now," said Damian.

"Oh my God," Joanna replied. "I was so effing scared for a minute. Let's go back inside."

Damian and Joanna went back into the apartment. Joanna went into the kitchen and took some Midol out of the cabinet. "It's that time on top of everything else," she said, sounding quite sarcastic.

"Gotcha," said Damian.

"Watching anything good?"

"Some Polish romance movie, since you know, I epitomize Polska."

Damian and Joanna laughed. "Alright D, I'm going to lay down for a bit," Joanna said. "See you tomorrow? Senior Night!"

Damian grinned. "Yeah Jo-Jo, can't wait to rage like wildfire!"

Joanna went into her room, and Damian went back down the hall to his room. As his hand touched the doorknob, his phone chimed twice consecutively. Damian went into his room and checked out his phone again. Another of his friends with benefits was trying to get some tonight, and there was a tsunami in Sri Lanka as a result of the Bangladesh earthquake.

"Damn, what's this world coming to?" Damian said, reaching for his laptop. He plugged his phone into the charger and turned the volume off, minimizing Netflix on his laptop and going to a news website. The headline read,

HELL ON EARTH: Earthquakes, Floods

Thousands killed as consecutive major earthquakes strike populated areas

"Oh God, oh, this is awful," he said quietly, putting down his laptop and reaching for his phone. He had just received another alert about an earthquake in New Zealand. This time, he dropped the phone back onto the nightstand and sat upright on his bed, eyes wide open. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

A rumble of thunder shook the house, and rain began to hit the roof. The storm was ordinary; these earthquakes were not.

Trembling slightly, Damian stood up and pocketed his phone again. He went to his other roommate Alex's room. Alex was a geology major at another local university. Damian knocked on the door and Alex said to come in. He was reading the same news article, but was getting into the text. "Dude," Alex said, spinning in his office chair to face Damian. "I can't believe this. Something's gone wrong with our seismic structure as a whole. The whole world is splitting apart!"

Damian was shocked. He knew something was wrong on a greater scale, but his minor in Biology wasn't the right kind of science to help him understand. However, the world is splitting apart... He could understand that. "Are there going to be more earthquakes then?" he asked.

"Yes, although I think we'll be safe. We're not on a plate boundary here," said Alex.

Damian's phone vibrated this time. An earthquake in Kentucky. "Alex, is Kentucky on a plate boundary?" he asked.

"No, dude, why, did something happen?"

"Yeah, man, it looks like Kentucky just got struck too."

"Oh, shit!"

"Then this means that..."

"Dude, this means that it's not the plate boundaries that are causing it," Alex said, looking suddenly very nervous. "This means that it could be anything but whatever it is, it's unprecedented. It's unknown. It might even not be anything to do with the earth itself."

Damian felt the temples of his head begin to feel that tightness he would feel whenever he was spontaneously stressed. His vision also got a little blurry. "I'm gonna go lie down, man, if y'all need me you know where to find me," Damian said.

"I'll be here," said Alex. "I'm keeping an eye on this. I sent my professor a quick email. I'll let you know as soon as we think we have anything figured out."

Damian's legs were shaky as he went back to his room. His phone vibrated again, but he ignored it this time. The apocalypse could very well be happening, right now, here in his time, and humanity might not be able to stop it. He thought about calling his parents, but noticed that it was past 11:30 and they were likely long in bed. They will surely find out tomorrow. Maybe Lana will be awake, thought Damian. He again opened his phone. Earthquake in China. Earthquake in Uzbekistan. Oh, God.

Damian sent a quick hello to Lana, hoping she'd still be awake. He was still shaken up, but his movie had finished loading. Realizing he was powerless to control the situation and that these disasters were still too far away for him to help at all, Damian decided to finish the movie and lay down. However, he was very nervous; he didn't even take his boots off.

The rain continued to fall, echoing from the roof throughout his room. Another rumble of thunder, and Damian was asleep.

--------

It was about 3:30 in the morning when Damian suddenly awoke. It was no longer raining, and his room was still there, and his feet hurt from being in the boots all night. He rubbed his eyes; he couldn't see anything in the darkness. He swore under his breath when he realized he had kicked his laptop off the bed while sleeping. He must have had a bad dream.

Instinctively, Damian reached for his phone to check the time. He could barely make out the numbers on the phone: 3:28 a.m. He realized he had notifications, so he opened the screen to check them.

Then he remembered the earthquakes.

There had been at least 30 more.

"Holy crap," said Damian.

He saw Lana had texted him. "Hey, I hope you're safe xo," the text read. He decided to reply in the morning. Damian fumbled for his laptop and found it on the floor. He picked it up--no damage, thank God--and went back to the news site. This time the headline read,

"AT LEAST 1 BILLION KILLED IN GLOBAL EARTHQUAKE OUTBREAK"

One. Billion.

Those two words jabbed into Damian's mind. He felt his heart break. It was worse than his first breakup, or his most recent breakup, or when his friend died in a drunk driving accident. It hurt more than losing Grandma. It struck him like lightning, straight to the heart, and it sunk into his chest like a rock in water.

Something rattled in the corner of his bedroom. Damian could see a little better now, but not well. He switched on his lamp and noticed that one of his pictures had fallen off the wall. Otherwise, it was completely quiet, and he could hear his heart pound in his chest. He felt something in his stomach grumble, and the sound startled him more than it ever would on any other day. He looked back to his laptop and noticed that somehow, it was a little harder to read than it normally is. The words looked a bit blurry, but only a little.

Damian's bed began to vibrate slightly. He noticed that the fan in his mini-fridge had just switched on, and it often vibrated loudly. But not like this. Something--oh, no, not this--

Everything began to rattle. The rattling sound was soon overpowered by a roar, with the sensation of pushing a rickety lawnmower across a bumpy yard with all the vibration of electricity at once. Books fell off their shelves, and the room began to sway. Damian felt his heart clench tight in his chest. Fight or flight had just kicked in, and the adrenaline was soaring.

Why, then, why was he laying on his bed, sobbing uncontrollably? He knew he should leave, but he just couldn't stop crying, the tears wouldn't stop coming, and he felt scared, and alone, and stupid for just laying there. But it was Boston's turn, it was time for him to experience what at least 1 billion more had already experienced. His rational mind was off, his compassionate and sensitive heart overflowing with emotion.

I want to live, I just want to live, and for everybody to live, he was saying in his mind, over and over. I don't want anybody to die, I want the suffering to end, I can still help everybody, this world will become beautiful and safe for everyone--

Something that sounded like a crack of lightning exploded overhead. Damian picked himself up and looked towards the sky, which he was surprised to see. Damian screamed, "I wish I wasn't here!"

Everything went black.

--------

It smelled like grass.

Damian's brain hurt like he had been hit with a rock, or a truck. His eyes ached and they ached to be open. He wanted to move his fingers, to grasp at something, but his eyes were clamped shut and he saw nothing but technicolor spheres and sparkling stars. He felt so much pain, but it was lessening, and it was all coming from within.

He could still smell grass, and the pins and needles faded to the sensation of grass. His face was in grass, and he felt alive. He was breathing, and it hurt less each time, and the air smelled sweet and fresh. He knew he had to open his eyes, but didn't want to stop dreaming. I have to open my eyes. But he was so afraid to open them.

Now he could feel sunlight on his forearms. He thought he could hear a man's voice. Someone was calling to him. He could touch, he could hear--now he must see.

Damian opened his eyes and saw nothing but spots and stars, but they began to fade. His head hurt and so did his chest. He felt like he must have fallen a great way. Soon he saw a lush bluish-green, the color of beautiful lawn. He knew he had to look up. Slowly, he pushed off the ground. He immediately felt nauseous and fell backwards. He could identify a wooden sign which was feet in front of him. It was in English, at least he thought, but it was something he had never seen before.

A man in a white lab coat, much like he wore in his evolutionary biology laboratory course, was approaching him. His grey hair glowed with bright spring sun. The sign read, Welcome to Pallet Town.

There was a village, and there were people looking with great curiosity from behind a wooden fence. The man continued to approach him. Damian opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He wanted to ask where he was, but he was too disoriented.

He felt the grass behind his head again. He must have fallen back. The sky was fading back to the familiar blackness with spots and stars again. The dizziness returned, and Damian slipped out of consciousness.

--------

<3 Please provide any feedback you may have so far! What do you want to know about Damian? How can I improve where this is going? I know it's a random take on the story, but I feel good about writing this and want to keep going.

[Magmar]

I'm having fun writing this so far. I want to see the world through someone else's eyes, and Damian Czszewicz has a unique perspective on the world. He's so open-minded, but how will he experience Kanto? In this chapter, Damian will learn about Kanto and ask questions no one has ever asked before. And so begins his journey.

Each chapter will be the title of a song on my graduation party playlist.

Chapter 2
Leave You Traveling

You know I've been traveling for a long, long time
I've seen the ends of this world and the cold in your eyes

The room was warm, the bed comfortable, but wires kept Damian Czszewicz trapped in place. Something cold was in his arm, and it burned like alcohol on a fresh wound. But his headache was nearly gone, and his eyes no longer felt like they were bursting from his skull. It was just a moment of dreaming, but it could have been days. Damian was awake and alive.

His eyelids opened slowly. The room was brightly lit with many windows and full of strange machines. Damian could smell fresh air; the windows were all open, and the room felt sterile like a hospital. The air was sweet to his taste, and he wanted more. He wanted to move, but his body still hurt. All was still, except the air mixing with air, and an older man in one corner, washing his hands in a sink. There were peculiar, round objects on a tray nearby; they were red on the bottom, white on top, and appeared to be containers of some sort. Damian thought the man must be a doctor, or some form of scientist, and questioned whether he was in hospital.

Damian wasn't sure if he should speak. He wanted to engage the man, ask where he was and how he had gotten there. He could barely remember the words "Pallet Town." He had never heard of Pallet Town, and wasn't sure how he had gotten there. It took all of him to sit himself up. He felt the tug of the wire in his arm, and carefully positioned himself upright. His movements caught the attention of the older man.

Damian opened his mouth to speak, but the man spoke first. "Hello," the man said.

"Hello," Damian croaked. He was surprised at how hoarse his throat was. The older man approached him with a cup of cold water, and Damian drank. "I..."

"You came from the sky," the man said, as though the occurrence were not too unusual. "I heard a loud noise, like a crack of thunder, and there was a bright light. I went outside and saw you lying in the field. Tell me, are you a scientist? Were you experimenting with Psychic Pokemon?"

Damian had followed this conversation until that point. He was a scientist, indeed, but a social scientist, and in all his studies of biology, he had never heard of the term "Psychic Pokemon". What was he talking about? This was not the time for questions, but maybe this speak of "Psychic Pokemon" could explain the tremors felt around the world.

The world... Damian's world. Was he in the same world?

"I was in an earthquake..."

The man gazed directly in Damian's eyes. He had a strong gaze, and appeared to be of a strong build as well, like an athlete who had retired to science and was pursuing a careers that suited the mind more than the body. "My name is Professor Samuel Oak," he said.

"You're a professor?" asked Damian. "Do... do you teach at Suffolk?"

"I don't teach much these days," said Professor Oak. "I'm a scientist. You are in my laboratory. Do you know where you are?"

Damian knew the answer was Pallet Town, but he wasn't quite sure where Pallet Town is. Now he knew he was under the care of a professor in this town and that, at least for the time being, he was likely safe. He also had realized that spring was further along in this town than it was in Cambridge, and the people here were not grieving as if great earthquakes had torn apart their land. And they knew English here, so the places he could be were certainly limited...

But where is here?

"I'm in a town called Pallet," said Damian. "But this town... how long was I asleep?"

"About forty-five minutes," replied the Professor. "It's about 9:30 in the morning. You were dehydrated, so we called in the town nurse. She put you on vitamins and fluids."

Damian was quiet, taking in the scenery. The floors were clean, made of hardwood and glistening with fresh wax. It was far more comfortable than any other hospital he had seen, certainly preferable to the hospital in Delaware where he had his appendix taken out at age eight.

"You came to us from the sky. How strange..." the Professor said again.

Damian knew he had to test the theory of whether he was in an isolated community, or whether he had been sleeping for days. He was completely disoriented; he knew not the date nor whether he was even on the same continent he was before. All he knew was that it was 9:30 in the morning, and it might be a Friday in April and he might be in Massachusetts or New Zealand. Logic brought him to the question that he knew he must ask.

"Tell me, Professor Oak," said Damian. "Were there any earthquakes here last night?"

"Oh, no, no earthquakes in this part of the country," the Professor replied. "We've gotten typhoons before, but never an earthquake that I know of, and I've lived here all my life."

So there are typhoons here, thought Damian. But no earthquakes?

"Um, Professor, what day is today?"

"Today is Friday, the 26th of April," the Professor said.

"I have another question..." Damian was hesitant to ask about the earthquakes around the world. He was afraid of the answer. "Professor, did you hear? About the earthquakes elsewhere..."

The Professor never took his eyes off Damian. He appeared to be studying him, observing every movement, his body language, the way his eyes shifted around the room with curiosity and a little anxiety. "I did not hear anything about earthquakes," he said. "It wasn't mentioned on the radio or TV. Were you in an earthquake?"

"It was close to 4 in the morning," Damian said. "It was early... and great earthquakes struck around the world. When my house began to collapse, the news had said there were over one billion killed."

As those last words escaped Damian's lips, he suddenly became so worried for his friends and family, wherever they were. They could be dead!

But the Professor seemed confused by this news. It wasn't as though the earthquakes were a tragedy to him; he seemed genuinely confused that Damian had reported over one billion people had lost their lives. The question he asked confirmed to Damian that something here was different, and he might not be anywhere near home.

"There aren't more than a million people in the world," the Professor said. "Who... are you?"

"Damian Czszewicz, and I'm from... the United States," said Damian.

"Oh? What are those?" asked the Professor.

Damian had never heard someone ask him what the United States are, as if they had no concept of countries and states and governments. It finally occurred to Damian to ask the question that had come to mind over and over. "They're on Earth," said Damian.

"We're on Earth!" the Professor said excitedly. "Do you mean there are other places where people live besides Kanto?"

Damian had never heard of Kanto. The way the Professor had pronounced it, Kanto could be anywhere. But there really weren't English-speaking places where people had never heard of the United States, right? Especially places with this level of technology. Damian considered for a moment whether he was in a deliberately isolated part of the world, like North Korea only more extreme.

"Where is Kanto?" Damian asked the Professor.

"We're on the coastal plain of a large island," replied Professor Oak. "This is where people live here. There are a few other small settlements on the coast elsewhere, but we've only recently begun to interact with them."

Damian's body began to feel sore once again. He laid back down in the bed, feeling the headache begin its slow ebb and flow between his eyes. "Professor, I don't feel well," Damian said, knowing he had much to think about. Where on Earth was he? And what happened to his family?

"You should rest," the Professor said, pulling the light blanket up to Damian's shoulders. "The nurse should be back any minute now to check on you. There's a sick Pokemon on the other side of town."

That word again...

The chimes on the door jingled as the nurse entered. Damian thought he saw something large, and pink, and round enter the research laboratory. His eyes closed before he could take a good look, and Damian was asleep.

[Charles Legend]

You got to be joking Magmar you only spent spent two hours just designing a protagonist, and your basic concept? how on earth did you manage to pull that off?!

Now understandably I may not be the best person to give feed back on any problem areas, however I will say it was an interesting twist on the start of a Pokémon story.

If I'm not mistaken your story's over all them seems to be "a Stranger in a Strange Land" the Stranger in this case is Damian Czszewicz and the Strange Land being Kanto.

In my opinion which dose not account for much these days, is that your story is well built on a solid foundation and has sturdy structural framework, at lest from what I can tell but as you may know I'm no expert.

Anyways Magmar good luck with this story any any others you may write in the future.

~Charles Legend

[Magmar]

Thanks, Charles! Yes, I started working on Damian's profile (which is on one of my sticky notes on my screen) around 3:15 p.m. the other day. Chapter 1 was done in about four hours. When my mind gets creative, it simply creates. I started writing this at 2:40 p.m. today, and I'm sure a full chapter will appear in a couple of hours.

I appreciate and value your feedback. Nobody is "unqualified" to provide feedback. This story will not improve without everyone's help. Yes, Damian is a stranger in a strange land, but he will learn that the things that made him feel different before do not matter here, but it is his ideas that set him apart. He will also use Pokémon, although I haven't decided how competitive he will be.

Chapter 3
Bridges, Squares

...The tides are moved by sun and moon,
The spring will last from March til June...

When Damian awoke, the first thing he noticed was just how warm it was in the room. It was noon, and the strong spring sun filled the air with energy. The morning breeze had stilled, and the room grew intermittently darker; clouds must have arrived.

Damian noticed that the needle in his arm was removed. He was no longer confined to the gurney. Sitting up, Damian spun round, his feet dangling off the bed. He pushed the sheet off his lap and stood straight. He felt sore and still a bit tired, but for the first time, Damian Czszewicz stepped foot in Kanto.

He could remember his conversation from earlier, but not many of the details. He remembered the word Kanto, and was aware that he was in a laboratory in a town called Pallet, not far from the sea. Damian couldn't remember much else, but a Professor called Oak had spoken with him, and had taken him into his house when he was sick. And this was Earth, but it wasn't any Earth he ever knew.

On a wall in the far side of the room, a colorful poster caught Damian's attention. Damian slowly made his way to the wall, noticing that despite his collapse that morning, or some other morning on some other day which Damian did not know, his legs felt light and free. His head no longer hurt, and his vision was fully clear. He approached the poster slowly, realizing that this was a map, a beautifully handmade map that labelled a town by the sea called Pallet, and this must be a map of all of Kanto.

There were many towns here, squares connected by bridges, all with colorful names that sounded exotic and serene. There was a Lavender Town, an island called Cinnabar, and a place called the Safari Zone; Damian thought it must be some sort of nature preserve for the wildlife here. Somehow the town called Pallet felt more significant, like a painter's tool filled with every color, and this was the beginning of a great adventure into a strange world where there was only one country, called Kanto, and there was no capitol, at least according to this atlas of this world.

By the map was a small table, and on it was a rather ordinary lamp. Damian found the switch beneath and was very nearly surprised that there was electricity, and light bulbs, and an ordinary lampshade on an ordinary lamp. By the lamp was an ordinary photograph in an ordinary wooden frame, and a younger Professor was looking back at him, and there was a young nurse standing by his side. There was nothing foreign about any of this, except for the third smiling face in the lamp.

A creature that resembled a balloon, pink and soft, smiled cheerfully at the camera. Its shape was like an egg, and its eyes were small and radiated light as if they could brighten a room on their own. It looked alive, and joyful, and like it belonged there; yet it was nothing like any creature he had ever heard of on Earth, but this was Earth, and yet it wasn't. It wore the same hat as the nurse, who also had hair in bubblegum pink.

Damian remembered the Nurse.

He remembered lying in bed, depleted of energy, and the Nurse entering the room, happy yet concerned, with something pink trailing behind her. It must have been this creature, this extraordinary monster with bright eyes. Damian thought the animal must be sentient and of exceptional talent and intelligence, like an alien that came to this world on a shooting star, and the people here loved it, and it loved the people, and helped them heal their sick and wounded. Are the people here hidden from the rest of the world, protecting these creatures from exploitation? thought Damian.

He picked up the photograph and touched the creature's image, questioning whether the energy of the creature would transcend physical barriers and fill him with soft warmth and happiness, as even the image of the creature made him feel relaxed, and happy, and filled with warmth. No, this was an ordinary photograph behind ordinary glass.

"What are you...?" Damian said quietly, holding the picture even closer to study the anatomy of this creature.

"It's a Pokémon," said a voice from behind. Startled, Damian dropped the photograph, and the glass shattered when it touched the floor. An ordinary photograph in ordinary glass.

Damian turned around and there stood the Professor, and the Nurse, and the Creature. "I'm so sorry," Damian said, his eyes focusing immediately on the mysterious, egg-like monster. Its eyes looked upon him with great curiosity. Damian saw that it had hands, and feet, and appeared to be covered in a strong, rubber-like skin. An egg was nestled in its pouch; it must be female, he thought.

"Your name is Damian, isn't it?" said the Nurse. She was still smiling, her soft features so full of love and concern.

"How did you know my name?" asked Damian.

The Nurse wore an apron, and she reached inside the pocket and pulled out a wallet and Damian's iPhone. "These were in your pockets when you were found," said the Nurse. "My name is Joy, and I nursed you back to health. You have an identification card. You're Damian Sketsawicks."

"Czszewicz," Damian replied instinctively, pronouncing it properly, like Shez-a-wits. He was used to that. "Thank you for finding my stuff."

This time, the Professor spoke. "You have money and identification like we have never seen before," he said. "You're from a town called Delaware, in a land called Newcastle, and are still in school, even though you are an adult. You are like nobody we have ever met."

Damian smiled for the first time since arriving in this world. He even stifled a small chuckle. "Actually, I'm from a city, and the city is Newcastle," said Damian. "And I go to college. It's... it's what some adults do where I'm from. We pick something we are passionate about and study it closely for four years after we finish, uh, high school..."

Damian questioned whether high school existed here, either. But there were professors, and nurses!

"What's a high school?" asked the Professor.

I knew it, thought Damian. "Where I'm from, the uh, culture is different," said Damian, tapping into his sociology training at the University. "When you are 5 years old, you go to school. You finish up when you're 18 years old or so, though I was 17 when I finished up. Then you can go to University if you want, and have the grades to get in. You study something special there, something you like. I studied gender and biology for four years."

"Interesting..." said the Professor. "Here, we send children to school until they're 9 or 10 years old, then they leave home to train Pokémon after they finish the school year where they turned 10."

That word again... Pokémon. If they can be trained, then they must be animals...

Something clicked in Damian's mind. The pink creature looked up at him, her eyes full of wonder, and Damian somehow knew, he had a feeling, that this creature was the Pokémon that was to be trained.

"Hey," said Damian, looking directly at the creature. "Are you a Pokémon?"

Her eyes closed, her smile widened, and she responded in English, sort of: "Chansey!"

"Every Pokémon speaks their own language," said Nurse Joy. "This one, she is called Chansey, and she's just one species of Pokémon."

The Professor added, "Here, we have more than 100 kinds of Pokémon, each unique and special in its own way."

"There's more than 100 Pokémon?" Damian said, astonished. "You mean, there are more than 100 different species?"

"Chansey, Chansey!" replied the Chansey.

"Are there no Pokémon where you live?" asked Nurse Joy.

"No, I mean, I don't think so," said Damian. "And these creatures, there's more than 100? Are there animals here?"

The Professor replied, "Yes, Damian, there are animals here who are not Pokémon. There are thousands of different fish, and there are birds, and cows, and worms, and they do not behave like Pokémon. Pokémon are different. Unlike animals, the Pokémon coexist with us. We study them, and we train them."

Damian thought of the Galapagos Islands, Svalbard, and other places he learned about in his biology courses. There were places where animals evolved differently, and they coexisted with other species, and unique species populated these isolated worlds. But he learned nothing in class that seemed anything like Chansey, and he had never heard of these Pokémon.

"Are they all just like Chansey?" asked Damian. "And when you say that you train the Pokémon, do you mean like Chansey has been trained to be a nurse?"

"Chan-sey chan," replied the Chansey, shaking its head as though to say no.

Nurse Joy put her hand on the head of Chansey and scratched. The Chansey trilled with delight. "Chansey can only say her name," said Joy. "In fact, Chansey is just one of hundreds of Chanseys in the world. They're quite rare, and one of the smartest Pokémon. They're docile, but can fight if a trainer wishes."

"You can train Chansey to fight?" asked Damian. "But why would you want to?"

This time, the Professor spoke. "Damian, Chansey is a rare, docile, and sentient Pokémon. However, Chansey is just like most other Chanseys. She can learn to read, and write, and nurse, but we have called them Chansey because of their unique language. Pokémon are called for the sounds they make, as most Pokémon can only speak using a few unique syllables."

"That's fascinating," Damian said. He was still hesitant to approach the Pokémon. "But, Professor, you haven't answered my question. Do you send 10 year old children on journeys to find their own Pokémon, and these children train their Pokémon to fight others?"

"Precisely," said the Professor. "It's a part of life, but not all of us do it. Everyone tries to be a Pokémon Trainer when they are a child. They go out and find Pokémon in the forests, the sea, and the mountains. There are so many different kinds. Not everyone chooses to make them fight, but the Pokémon become our friends, and we study them closely. The Pokémon like to fight. Naturally, they're highly territorial."

"It's rare that a Pokémon is seriously injured," said Nurse Joy. "They heal remarkably quickly."

This notion of training Pokémon didn't feel right to Damian. It felt violent and cruel. This casual attitude toward training, and sending children out on their own, was foreign and strange. But something about this intrigued Damian. In his gender studies courses, Damian had learned so much about different cultures that managed to endure despite globalization, surviving on their own without iPhones and electricity. And here was a new culture, just begging to be studied closely, and Damian was curious about these creatures called Pokémon that loved to fight.

But he was still sad, and curious, but the sadness was so strong. He missed his family, his roommates, his University; he wondered if he would ever see them again. "Professor Oak," said Damian. "I still don't have any idea how I got here, but you assure me that this is Earth, right?"

"We call this planet Earth," said the Professor.

"And there's a Sun, and a Moon, and tides?"

"There is a star called the Sun, and a satellite called the Moon," said the Professor. "There are other planets, called Mercury and Mars, and Venus, and Jupiter, and Saturn. Yes, this is Earth."

Damian questioned whether he had somehow found himself on an alternate Earth, a different reality in another dimension, where these Pokémon exist and so do things from the ordinary world from which he came. These spectacular creatures, all 100 or so, must be fantastic to study. But if he was here, he knew he must find a way back home, and it seemed that the way out of town, to find the way back, must be to explore the world filled with Pokémon.

"Professor," said Damian. Something was screaming No! between his ears. His conscience was kicking him, shouting, punching. This must be my way out, replied his curious side, his raw instinct, the fight-or-flight that he rarely used because he just wasn't violent. "If there's a way home, it must be elsewhere. Is there a place here that is considered magical, or spiritual, or unusual in some way?"

The Professor turned to Nurse Joy, who turned to Chansey, who looked at Damian and smiled. Her eyes had clenched shut with bliss, as she seemed to be born filled with endless happiness; "Chan-seeey!"

"I think I know just the thing," said Professor Oak. "Damian. There is a place north of here, deep in the mountains, where there is a cave. That place is called Mt. Moon. It's a magical place, filled with gentle creatures, much like Chansey here, yet different, but it is also filled with dangerous creatures as well. Your way home may just be there. But," he said, his voice growing serious and tough. "Damian, you can't just walk to Mt. Moon. You'll have to travel on foot. And there will be more creatures on the way, who are also violent and will attack you. If you want to travel to Mt. Moon, you'll have to become a Pokémon Trainer."

Damian thought of Alex and Joanna, of his family back home, of Lana, and of his third-floor apartment in Cambridge, in Massachusetts, in the United States, back on Earth, which was somewhere, maybe here, but it wasn't here. The answer was clear, but difficult. If he was to travel home, he would have to travel around here first and find the way.

"I'll go," said Damian. "What do I do?"

"Well," said the Professor. "Many young Trainers start their journey here in Pallet Town. The Pokémon nearby are not as strong. Here, let me get you a map, and we'll go over the logistics."

The Professor reached into a drawer in the sideboard nearby and pulled out a paper map. It was folded neatly, like a road map you'd find in a glove box, yet was much larger than the elaborate map Damian had seen before and had more things carefully marked. He spread the map out on a table, and Damian approached. On the way, his hand brushed the head of Chansey. Her skin was cool, and thick, much like Damian had imagined it would be; she appeared to be covered in a flat, soft fur, much like a short-haired dog. She's real, he thought.

Professor Oak pointed to a square on the map near the bottom left. "Here's Pallet Town," said the Professor. "There is a clear path between here and Viridian City, the next village to our north." He traced his finger northward. "You should stop in Viridian City and visit the Pokémon Center there. You'll meet a nurse, just like Nurse Joy, and she also has a Chansey. You can stop there and rest for free. There will be a store there where you can stock up on supplies. Oh, don't let me forget, you'll need money before you go," the Professor added. Damian nodded. "From Viridian, you'll head north through a great forest, but as long as you can see the Sun, you can tell which way is north. You want to continue through the forest, sticking close to the path, until you find another road. This road will take you to Pewter City, a city in the mountains. From Pewter City, you'll head east, but you'll want to make sure you have plenty of supplies. You'll be following the road until you arrive at the entrance to the cave within Mt. Moon."

Damian hadn't been able to retain most of these directions as the map was completely foreign to him. However, Mt. Moon was clearly labelled, and the path seemed straightforward. The only obstacle was this forest, where there was no easy road.

"What will I look for in Mt. Moon?" asked Damian.

"The Moon Stone," replied the Professor. "It has highly magical properties and, like you, came from the sky. If you find yourself in Mt. Moon and cannot find the Moon Stone, or you cannot find your way home, you should continue down this path to Cerulean City and ask where to find my friend Bill. He lives in a house by the Cerulean Sea, which is north of the city. He may be able to help you."

Damian nodded. He understood these directions, but had no concept of the amount of distance between these cities. He realized that there must not be public transit here, so it was not as easy as taking the T to travel quickly between the Boston suburbs.

"What will I need to bring with me?" asked Damian. "I don't have any identification and I won't be able to just use an ATM to take money out of my savings account."

"What's an ATM?" asked Nurse Joy.

Damian shrugged. "It's something we use where I come from. Here, let me show you my ATM card." Damian took his wallet from Nurse Joy and pulled a small, green credit card out of the front pocket. "This card can connect to my bank, and I can use it to put money in or take it out of the account. It requires a machine that can dial the bank and confirm I have the money."

"That's such a different way to do things," said Joy.

"Chansey!" said the Chansey.

The Professor reached into another drawer and pulled out a small, red device that looked like a mini-computer and a calculator all in one. "Damian, this is called the Pokédex," said the Professor. "If I input your information, it will serve as your identification here. Unfortunately, your storage envelope won't help you if you get into any trouble."

Damian chuckled at the thought of a wallet being referred to as a "storage envelope."

"Money is entirely electronic here. I can wire you some funds and establish an account directly through the Pokédex, but I can't give you much. I'm still waiting on my payout from a large research grant I'm owed for groundbreaking research on other Pokémon, a species that's not unlike Chansey," said Professor Oak. "Now, let me tell you how the Pokédex works. When you find a Pokémon, point the Pokédex at it so that the small light at the top can scan it. You will then unlock information on that Pokémon and understand how to fight it, if you choose to or if you have no other choice. Unfortunately, the only Pokédex I have here is one designed for young trainers. It's our strict policy not to disclose information on the Pokémon until the trainer has seen it. To see as many Pokémon as possible is a rite of passage. That is the point of training."

Damian vowed to himself that if he were stuck in the Pokémon world, he would immediately create a Wikipedia for Pokémon.

"Because Pokémon are dangerous, you need Pokémon to defend yourself while traveling," said Nurse Joy. "That's why we train them, and why we make them fight. They grow stronger as they are trained, and they can protect you as long as they trust you, but you must trust them."

"As you travel, you'll meet stronger and stronger Pokémon," Professor Oak added. "You'll meet other trainers who will want their Pokémon to fight yours. They want to be able to defend themselves as well. You see, not everyone in Kanto is a good person. You may meet some people who want to don't want to be the best Trainers. They want to rule over the entirety of our world, and exploit Pokémon. You have to be careful and stick to your values."

Damian had, thus far, understood everything. He felt better about the concept of training Pokémon, but still had no idea what training would entail. He didn't even have his own Pokémon to fight with him!

"Tell you what," said Professor Oak. "I'll put your information into the Pokédex. I just need your name and birthday, and your blood type in case you get hurt."

Damian handed his driver's license to Professor Oak, who studied it for a moment before typing. "My birthday is June 13, and my blood type is B positive," said Damian.

The Professor finished inputting Damian's information, then reached into his own pocket and pulled out an identical Pokédex. He pressed a few numbers on his own Pokédex, then made the backs of the two computers touch one another. "There, now you have 5,000 Poké-dollars. Oh, you'll also need Poké Balls."

“What are those for?” asked Damian.

“Oh, Poké Balls are used to store Pokémon,” said Professor Oak. “You see, Pokémon can be converted to data, and stored in Poké Balls. When you meet a Pokémon that you want to train, you’ll have to weaken it with another Pokémon, then throw a Poké Ball at it. If the Pokémon is weak enough, it will enter the Poké Ball and submit. You will then be its trainer until you choose to release it. They can be put into the Poké Ball at any time and also summoned at any time.”

The Professor reached into the same drawer and produced six small spheres. They were identical to the Poké Ball that Damian had seen in the room earlier. “These are empty, so you can have them and capture Pokémon with them,” said the Professor. “Damian, I know this is a lot to take in, but we have one more order of business to take care of before you leave here to travel to Mt. Moon. You still need your own Pokémon.”

Damian nodded his head at the Professor, then turned to Nurse Joy. She was curious, too. They were both wondering what kind of Pokémon the Professor had in mind for Damian. The Professor had walked to another sideboard, this one against the wall by the sink, and called Damian over. In the drawer were three Poké Balls, each looking the same as the other; nothing distinguished them apart from one another. This could be complicated, thought Damian.

“Now, Damian,” the Professor said. “You will choose one of these Poké Balls. You will not know which Pokémon is inside. This Pokémon will be your guardian, and you will be its guardian as well. You may choose only one, and your bond with your new Pokémon will be sealed. Now, reach inside, and let fate guide you, that same fate that brought you here.”

[Magmar]

I've found that writing is a slow process when you want to cover all the bases.

This is good practice! I tried to make Damian's introduction to the Pokémon world happen slowly, so that all his questions are answered. I have no outline that I'm following, but I think I know where this is heading now.

Chapter 4
This is for Real

For a physical challenge I’m notoriously born
Intravenous delivery, electrolytes and more...

Damian Czszewicz had no idea how it all happened. It may have been a dream, after all, because the last thing he knew before his world fell apart, he was in his bed, in his apartment, in a city, in a world that had fallen to pieces. And here he was, not even twelve hours later, in what was surely a dream world, filled with monsters and mysterious creatures and people who knew nothing about his world, yet it was real, and he was here, and he had a choice to make.

If you told Damian twelve hours ago that he would be training mysterious creatures to fight one another in order to safely travel around the world on foot, he would have thought you had lost your marbles. Today, Damian had lost everything, and he wasn't sure if he had also lost his own marbles, but he was on the verge of adventure, and you can never be too old for adventure.

Three Poké Balls, each filled with a surprise, a pet if you will, yet a guardian. They were each different, perhaps different species of these creatures called Pokémon, or perhaps differently colored versions of one specie, and possibly quite dangerous. He had to choose one, and he could never go back.

Damian looked at the three red balls in the drawer. There was no way of distinguishing what was inside them. Something about this moment was very exciting, like a baby's first step, or a child traveling to Disney World for the first time. Do they even have a Disney here, thought Damian, and his hand began to hover over each ball in turn.

He could have imagined it, but something was different. Each seemed to be filled with life, a life that he could not see, but one radiated a gentle warmth, much like the sun on a winter's day; one felt full of life, yet the energy was not warm or cold, but almost felt like it was pulsing; the third had a cooler air and a certain dampness that felt like his hand was hovering over fog.

His intuition told him that there must be a fish-like creature in the cool one. He wasn't sure that a fish would be practical for the road, but if he had to travel over water, a fish would be useful. The Poké Ball that radiated heat baffled him; surely whatever was inside was quite large, or exceedingly hot... perhaps a dragon? While a dragon would be a fabulous travel partner, he didn't think he knew enough about this world to possibly tame a dragon. And there was a third, which had an air to it that reminded him of flowers and new life. The thought of a sentient plant crossed his mind. While raising a sentient tree as a friend would be fascinating, he wasn't convinced that it would be very good at protecting him from a fast creature, or one that breathed fire like a dragon.

For a split second, he wished that there was no way to tell; surely chance could be better to him than making the wrong decision based on intuition, and intuition was not based on fact. But for just a second, he recognized that he was thirsty, and so his hand shifted to the Poké Ball that seemed to radiate fog. His hand wrapped around it, and he lifted it up. It was light and felt like plastic, but it was sturdier than any plastic he knew. Even with the hard shell around the edge, he could tell that there was a creature inside, and it had a heartbeat, and it was already bonding with him. Besides, certainly the Professor wouldn't be giving him a useless travel companion such as a fish; but the thought of the Professor gifting him with a tree or a dragon felt silly as well.

Water, Fire, Plant. The opportunities in each ball presenting themselves to him and, much as his father used to ponder what to make for dinner, and his mother used to ponder what kind of vehicle was best for the family, and his sister would ponder what the best kind of tennis shoes were for running, he pondered whether his intuition was keen to this sort of situation, or whether his mind was playing games with him, or even whether this was all indeed a highly detailed dream and he would wake up and go to Senior Night parties with his friends.

"Professor," said Damian. "You told me there was no way to tell what kind of Pokémon were in these capsules. However, I think I can tell a difference."

"Go on," said Professor Oak.

"Well, the ball in my hand probably houses an aquatic Pokémon. It feels cool to the touch, and it seems to radiate fog and humidity. Conversely, there is one over here that radiates heat, and it reminds me of spirit and hope. The third one feels like neither, but has an air about it that reminds me of nature and spring. I've thought about this, and I've made my decision. I just have to ask if I am right in my assumptions."

"If the Poké Ball you hold is the one you desire," said the Professor, "then tell me you have chosen, and I will tell you."

Damian thought for a second more. Something about the colder capsule felt refreshing, and if he ever needed water, surely this Pokémon could track it down. He wasn't anticipating encountering fire, and while a plant Pokémon would be useful in the forest, logic told him that water just might be the most useful. "I have chosen this one," Damian said, forcing the words as though he wished he had no need to make any decision.

The Professor smiled at him. "Your intuition is keen, Damian, and you are one of very few trainers that I have met who can tell these sorts of things. Damian, what you hold is a Water Pokémon. Her name is Squirtle, and she will be your travel companion. Go on then, call her out!"

"How?" asked Damian.

Professor Oak had forgotten that Damian had no concept of throwing a Poké Ball to release a Pokémon. "It sounds like it could hurt your Pokémon, but you have to throw the Poké Ball to summon her. Go ahead and try it."

Damian wasn't surprised by anything anymore. "Come on out, Squirtle!" he said, lightly tossing the ball up into the air. The ball opened in mid-air, and a bright pink light poured from the ball and fell to the ground like lightning. As the lightning began to fizzle out, a pink shape began to materialize before him. The transformation may have only lasted a second, but it seemed to take forever; the shape transformed into the form of a blue turtle that could stand on her webbed feet. A long, slimy tail flowed from her orange shell; her eyes were large and red. It was borderline horrifying and precious at the same time.

"Squirtle?" she said, looking up at Damian.

Professor Oak put the Pokédex in Damian's hand. "Use this like I told you earlier. Point it at Squirtle, and the Pokédex will tell you about her."

Damian pointed the Pokédex at his new friend. It spoke in a robotic voice, but enunciated each syllable carefully to ensure the comprehension of the listener. "Squirtle, a Turtle Pokémon," said the Pokédex. "Squirtle is a very rare Pokémon and is a Water-type. It can spray its enemies with water from its mouth."

Damian had felt relieved that the Squirtle could walk, and the ability to spray enemies down with water must surely be useful. He wasn't sure how committed he was to making her fight and grow stronger; that was contingent upon what was waiting for him on the road ahead.

"I guess we're travel buddies, Squirtle," said Damian. He picked up the turtle and observed her anatomy more closely. She was light, yet dense; her shell was solid and had ridges and grooves, like a soccer ball. She seemed somewhat like a turtle, but her skin was aquamarine, and her eyes were wide and mahogany brown with a tint of maroon when the light struck them from the right angle. The Pokémon did not seem to mind being held, either; these creatures called Pokémon must immediately bond with the person meant to raise them.

"Now Damian," said the Professor. "Did you want to give your Squirtle a name? Many trainers call their Pokémon by their species name, and some give them a more personalized name."

Damian thought about the nomenclature of these creatures. Squirtle seemed to be a pun on squirt and turtle, yet her ability to speak a language consistently entirely of the word 'Squirtle' seemed convenient and very nearly cliche. "I think I'll call her Squirtle anyway," he said to the Professor. "Do you mind being called Squirtle, um, Squirtle?"

"Squirtle," the Squirtle replied, shrugging its shoulders. The human-like body language got its point across. These creatures must have evolved with the ability to communicate with humans! Apparently, the Squirtles don't mind being called Squirtle, although Damian had never met a family with a dog named Dog or a hamster named Hamster.

Nurse Joy had left the office. The Chansey called Chansey was sitting on Professor Oak's sofa, holding the egg from its pouch in its arms and cradling it as thought it were already an infant. Damian put down Squirtle and pointed his Pokédex at the Chansey, curious to learn more about the creature.

"Chansey, the Egg Pokémon," chirped the Pokédex. "It brings happiness to its human friends and other Pokémon. It lays infertile eggs regularly and shares them to provide nutrition to hungry or sick Pokémon. It is naive and skittish, and one of the rarest Pokémon."

In the moment, Damian appreciated the kindness of Chansey and wondered whether he had been nursed back to health so quickly due to Chansey's kindness and love for humanity.

Damian turned to the Professor. "Professor," said Damian. "When should I depart for Viridian City?"

"I think you should leave tomorrow," replied the Professor. "You need time to bond with your new friend Squirtle, and I think dinner is in order. I would love to hear more about where you come from, and you're going to need a tent and some food for the road. It just so happens that I keep trainer kits here, which will have some bedding and medicine for your Pokémon."

Nurse Joy returned with two paper bags. "I brought dinner from the Pokémon Center," Joy said, placing her bags on a counter top. "There are kibbles for Squirtle and Chansey, and I brought cheeseburgers for us."

Damian couldn't believe he was about to eat a cheeseburger, but he was feeling famished, and really wanted a glass of water. The Professor seemed to be childishly excited about eating a cheeseburger. Damian observed his interactions with Joy. They seemed to be normal people, just like people back home, but somehow nicer; their lives seemed to revolve around helping Pokémon and the people who use them.

"Damian, don't you want to eat?" asked Joy. "Let's all have a seat with Chansey and talk about you. I'd love to hear about your country and the kinds of Pokémon you have there."

Damian wasn't sure that there were any Pokémon back at home, but he obliged anyway. And so they sat together and talked about the Internet, and public transit, and what it's like to stay in school for most of your young life. His world seemed foreign to them, but they appeared to understand that it was merely different. They had never heard of government, but had police and firefighters; they had no concept of religion, but existed in harmony with their Earth and the animals, plants, and Pokémon around them. They had never heard of a god called God, but revered their Earth as though everything around them was a manifestation of the spirit world.

The Pokémon world, this Kanto, was a world of peace, and there was almost never war. They had never heard of the concept of race; they couldn't believe that in Damian's world, people were categorized and treated differently based on what part of the world their families were from and whether their skin was light or dark. "Of course, there are people here who look more like you," said the Professor. "But we don't think of them as different. There are Squirtles with different colors of skin, and we call them all Squirtle and they are happy to be Squirtle. Likewise, there are humans with different colors of hair and skin, and some are smart and some aren't, and some are tall and others are short, but we are all the same species, and we all live here together. We call ourselves human, and that's all there is to it."

"Where I'm from, your experience is shaped based on your identities," Damian said, drawing on both his own experience and his training in gender studies. "People treat you differently depending on what you look like, and if you're a man, people expect you to do certain things and if you're a woman, people expect you to do other things. They don't raise their girls to fight and work, and they don't raise their boys to want to be teachers and work in research. They want boys to fight and girls to putter around the house taking care of the chores."

"Well, that's absurd!" said Nurse Joy. "Here, boys and girls go on the same journey then choose their careers. Everyone receives the same training!"

Even though they couldn't talk back in English, Chansey and Squirtle listened carefully to the conversation.

"It's like that back on Earth... er... back home," Damian said. "But it's not the same. If you're a guy and you want to be a nurse, some people think you're weak. If you're a girl and want to build stuff and play sports, some people think you're not fulfilling your role as a woman."

"Women and men have different roles?" the Professor asked, his mouth full of cheeseburger. "That's bizarre. Here, men and women are professors, and men and women are nurses, and men and women are Pokémon Masters, and boys and girls are taught to be trainers and to love the Earth and those who live on it."

Damian finally took a bite of his cheeseburger. He had been hesitant to eat; he wasn't sure what the cheeseburger had come from and whether his body would reject it as food. But it was most certainly a cheeseburger, and it was fresh and juicy like a cheeseburger, with the texture and flavor of a cheeseburger. It was like a relic from back home, as if he had taken the cheeseburger with him on this mysterious journey.

"Damian, so you mean to say that some people are never taught that they have the same chances as anyone else to be what they want to be?" asked Nurse Joy. Damian nodded, his mouth full. "That sounds like a sad place to grow up."

Damian had agreed that there were things about his world that he wanted to change, and yet here was a world where all those things were so very different; it felt like he had stumbled upon a utopia, and nothing that mattered back home mattered here. He still wasn't sure where money came from and whether this place called Kanto was more like a Communist country or an Amish commune, or whether this place was like nowhere else that existed on his Earth.

As he finished his cheeseburger, he reflected on Nurse Joy's words. A sad place to grow up. He remembered his sister, who had to work even harder to prove herself a competent mathematician; his father and mother, who were born in a year where their marriage would have been considered sacrilege if they lived further south than Delaware; and himself, who was onetime asked how he had gotten into University and whether it was reverse discrimination, and another time was asked if he was really a Jew, because that one ignorant guy at that one party had no concept of how Jewish heritage was passed on and that even though Damian was of color, that he was one-quarter Polish and a grandchild of a survivor of World War 2. All these social barriers don't exist here.

Squirtle crawled into Damian's lap and curled up into her shell, full of kibbles and ready for sleep. Damian placed his hand on Squirtle's shell and closed his eyes, too, reflecting on this strange world and how he now felt even more like a stranger.

[Charles Legend]

Thanks, Charles! Yes, I started working on Damian's profile (which is on one of my sticky notes on my screen) around 3:15 p.m. the other day. Chapter 1 was done in about four hours. When my mind gets creative, it simply creates. I started writing this at 2:40 p.m. today, and I'm sure a full chapter will appear in a couple of hours.

I appreciate and value your feedback. Nobody is "unqualified" to provide feedback. This story will not improve without everyone's help. Yes, Damian is a stranger in a strange land, but he will learn that the things that made him feel different before do not matter here, but it is his ideas that set him apart. He will also use Pokémon, although I haven't decided how competitive he will be.

Your welcome, I will say that you sure put a lot of thought into describing your story world which helps me to picture your setting, it's also interesting you gave Damian a female Squirtle.

But yeah I thing your doing a good job at explaining things and not info dumping stuff line I tend to do, However I do wounder if Damian will ever catch a Chancy of his own, perhaps in the Safari Zone.

~Charles Legend

[Magmar]

Thanks for replying again, Charles. I now have a rough idea of the direction the story is going, but I'm really flexible to what will actually happen. I just kind of write as I go. On that note, it's finally time for Damian to begin his journey!

Chapter 5
Watery Hands

You're made of water, I'm made of sand

The sun had barely risen when Damian woke up. He wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping, but it felt like he dreamed a hundred different things. There was a clock on the wall, which read 6:15.

It was now the last Saturday of April, at least he was led to believe. It had been a full day since he arrived here in this peculiar Earth called Kanto. The sound of birds chirping was reminiscent of home, but he could swear the birds here spoke to one another in their own language. He wondered whether the birds of his Earth could speak to one another as well. He had only heard noise until today; now, he could hear communication.

Damian's stomach let out a low roar. He realized that he hadn't used the restroom in an entire day. Looking around the large laboratory, he finally noticed a small room in one corner. He began to stand, but something small was in his lap, and it was stirring. It was Squirtle.

He had forgotten about Squirtle until now, and he finally remembered that today he would set off on a journey home, but had a long way to go. There was much to do to get ready for today. Squirtle began to stretch her rubbery, watery hands, pulling out of her shell and yawning with a raspy voice. Damian picked Squirtle up and placed her beside himself on the sofa, then stretched himself as he finally stood.

Damian made his way over to the bathroom and was nearly surprised to see there were ordinary toilets here. He sat on the porcelain throne and realized it had been a long time since he last sat on a toilet and wasn't using his cell phone.

His cell phone... Professor Oak still has it! Could I use the phone to contact home??

Damian wrapped up his business and stood in front of the ivory sink bowl, placing his hands underneath cold water. After soaping and rinsing, he splashed his face with water, surprised that his face wasn't dirty. Joy had cleaned him up well. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He needed to shave his neck beard, and his dreads were unkempt, several locks displaced from their usual ponytail. Stretching again, Damian let his braids fall from the ponytail. His head felt lighter. He noticed that he needed to braid his dreads closer to his scalp again; they had been growing out. But who in this strange land called Kanto knew how to manage dreadlocks?

He was still wearing his Silversun Pickups shirt. He questioned whether anyone here knew what the Silversun Pickups were. He wondered what kind of music was popular here, or even existed here. Damian was so full of questions. He wanted to know everything.

Leaving the restroom, Damian noticed that Squirtle was once again asleep. Scratching his lower side, Damian noticed there was something small and round attached to his belt loop. That's right, Squirtle's Poké Ball, thought Damian. He considered calling Squirtle back into her Poké Ball, but thought she looked comfortable and should get all the rest she could. Today was a big day for the both of them, and Squirtle would also need to be ready.

Damian noticed that on the small dining table, there was a small red calculator-like object. His Pokédex was there. He sat at the table, picking up the device and examining it more closely. It had several buttons that he had never used. He began to explore the Pokédex's capabilities. It could be muted like a cell phone; it could also recall information on Pokémon that he had analyzed with it in the past. There were only two entries in the Pokédex. The device was able to tell him where he could find Chansey in the wild; he was a little disappointed that he wasn't going to travel towards the city called Fuchsia to visit the nature park there. Squirtle apparently no longer had a wild habitat anymore; they must be close to extinction. He learned that there were different types of Pokémon and that Squirtle was a Water-type. Chansey was called a Normal-type.

A familiar smell slowly overtook Damian's senses. It reminded him of breakfast... Turning around, he saw that Professor Oak was awake and frying up bacon and eggs. "Oh! Good morning," said the Professor. "I saw that you were studying, which is exactly what you should be doing this morning."

"Good morning," Damian said, standing up and stretching his back again. "Professor, before I travel today, I have a few more questions that I need to ask."

"Ask away, and if you'd like a cup of coffee, there is some in the French press," said the Professor.

Damian thought about what he wanted to ask first. He wasn't the biggest fan of coffee, but as he grew older, he had learned to enjoy a fresh cup in the morning, especially on exam days. He reached for a plain enamel mug and put one sugar and one cream in, pouring himself a serving of coffee.

"I was wondering," Damian began.

"Oh, no need to worry, Damian," the Professor said, interrupting his inquiry. "As part of my stores, I have plenty of clothes for travelers. You should have a week's worth packed in your parcel."

"Well, thanks!" Damian said, appreciating that he wouldn't need to wander a mysterious countryside for weeks in his favorite shirt. "But, Professor, what I really wanted to know is where the device that Nurse Joy recovered has gone. The thing in my pocket."

"Oh!" said the Professor. "I put it in your parcel as well. I figured you wouldn't want to travel without it, since it comes from your home. Unfortunately, I couldn't get it to turn on, and I don't have a wire that connects to it."

Damian was surprised that in this world full of technological marvels, there were no cellular phones. "Professor, if you were to want an electronic device to work, but didn't have access to any batteries or a wire that could charge it, what would you do?"

"I'd find an Electric Pokémon and try that way," the Professor replied.

"There are Pokémon that are electric?"

"Oh, yes," said the Professor. "There are several types of Pokémon. Psychic-types, Fire-types, Electric-types, even Dragon-types. You'll have to use your Pokédex to learn more about them, but you should know that Squirtle won't do well in a fight against an Electric-type."

Damian thought about the implication of battling a dragon with his little Squirtle. He silently hoped he would never encounter a dragon on the way to finding the Moon Stone. "Professor, what else should I beware of? Squirtle is young, and I don't think she can face a dragon on her own."

"There aren't any dragons anywhere close to here, and by the time you encounter one, I'm sure Squirtle will be much stronger," said the Professor. "Squirtle won't do well against Dragon-type Pokémon, or Electric or Grass-types. She'll be fine with Fire-types, and she should be able to hold her own against any Ground or Rock Pokémon you meet. Most of the others are an even match, although Ice-types will be at a disadvantage if they face Squirtle."

Ice. Ground. Rock. Fire. There seemed to be endless kinds of Pokémon, but Professor Oak had said there were only about 100. Damian swore to himself that he would try his best to never put Squirtle in a situation where she would have to face off against a dragon.

It was time for breakfast. Squirtle had finally woken up, making her way over to where Damian was sitting and making herself comfortable on a dining chair. Professor Oak brought over some bacon and scrambled eggs, a small plate of kibbles for Squirtle. Damian noted that Squirtle kibbles resembled chocolate truffles. He asked if all Pokémon ate different kinds of food. The professor assured him that most kinds of Pokémon he would meet on the way to Mt. Moon would eat the same kibbles.

Once breakfast was finished, Professor Oak put the plates on a nearby counter and began to show Damian how the Pokédex can function as an identification device. He explained the concept of using Poké Balls to catch Pokémon, and that Damian should expand his arsenal of Pokémon so that he would be able to handle any type of threat he should meet on his journey.

When the conversation turned to the subject of facing off against another trainers, Damian listened intently, searching his mind for any types of strategy. He didn't want to waste his time being pushed around by other trainers. He learned that when you win a battle, it is customary to receive money from your opponent and vice-versa. When Damian asked how much money, the Professor told him to give what he can. Finally, the Professor explained that while you can use potion items to cure and heal Squirtle and other Pokémon, they benefit greatly from resting at a Pokémon Center. Damian was also cautioned that Squirtle doesn't have infinite energy and, if she is pushed too hard, she will be unable to fight, leaving Damian to face any threats alone.

--------

It was 8 a.m., and for the first time, Damian stepped outside of Professor Oak's laboratory. His body felt heavy from the full backpack, but he was grateful for the change of clothes. Squirtle was in her Poké Ball, presumably taking a nap again; the Squirtle was very young, after all, and required a fair amount of sleep.

The town was much bigger than Damian had thought, yet there were few buildings. It was rather rural, with grassy hills and distant woodlands. There were a few people scurrying about on their errands; a few folks seemed to be on their way to work. It seemed like an ordinary suburb, except there were no cars here.

"Damian, if you need anything, you can always call me from the nearest Pokémon Center," Professor Oak said. "Please, do not hesitate to ask me for anything."

"Alright," said Damian.

"You should also keep one thing in mind. You can only have six Pokémon at the most with you at any time. Any Pokémon that you catch after six are teleported back to my office. You'll have to call me from a telephone if you want to switch them out. The switching will happen electronically and pretty much instantly."

"Got it... So which way do I go from here?" asked Damian.

The Professor pointed to a road that led away from town. "This road is called Route 1. You can follow it straight north into Viridian City. It's about a day's journey."

Damian glanced quickly at the map, then looked up at the road. He nodded to the Professor. "Listen, Professor, thank you so much for all you've done for me," said Damian. He held out his hand, and the Professor shook it. Damian was doubly surprised; for one, he didn't expect the gesture of shaking hands to be culturally present in Kanto; for another, he was impressed at the Professor's strong grip. It was hard to tell through his lab coat that the Professor was a well-built man.

"I wish you the best of luck on your journey," the Professor said, breaking his grip on Damian's hand. "If you need anything at all, call me immediately. I'll be waiting to hear from you when you arrive at Viridian City."

Damian nodded his head again, thanking the Professor one last time. From here on out, he was on his own, and it would be contingent on both his wits and his ability to control Squirtle to get himself to Viridian City. Even though it was just a day's journey, the road would be filled with mysterious creatures the likes of which Damian had never even heard of.

Waving farewell, Damian approached the road north. There was a break in a white picket fence that signified that this was the path through the grasslands. The way back home.

"Alright, Squirtle," Damian said, putting his hand on the Poké Ball on his waist. "We have a long day ahead of us..."

[mattbcl]

This critique covers everything you've posted so far, so I hope you'll forgive its length - I figure that if I'm going to offer a proper review, it should cover as much area as possible. Starting with chapter 1...

--

Firstly, allow me to say that I'm enjoying what I see so far. What you've put together is a character as real as you can possibly make him, and although it's going to take some time for me to consider him relatable, it's been a long time since I've seen this much depth poured into a protagonist.

Now, I would like to say that chapter 1 gets off on something of a slow foot, if only because you spend a lot of it describing Damian and his background. You offer chunks of it at a time, and interspersed among these chunks is action, which helps to ensure that the pace doesn't cut out entirely. That's good; you don't want it to feel too bogged down by revealing every single detail about the character right off the bat. Save some features about him for later down the road, where a challenge to his ethos, memory, history, or what-have-you should come along. There should be some nugget tucked away that, while it won't mean anything to a reader just now, will provide him with the right nudge to keep himself - and the pace of the story - flowing evenly.

Your introduction is very detailed and specific, and the characters involved (not just Damian) do come off as the sort to have "senioritis" - in that life was good and things were going well, and as long as the earthquakes weren't rocking the boat in Massachusetts, they invested hardly any emotion in the events. My first impression of Damian is that he's emotionally detached when it comes to social consequences - there's the news of natural disasters happening worldwide, and he's wrangling updates about that while at the same time trying to blow off several friends with benefits.

To his credit (and the credit of the author), it steadily becomes more real to him as he continues receiving updates - and then he gets a snap of reality when the ground shakes beneath him, too. It's a little strange to think he would want to lie down in the wake of all this news, but everyone reacts differently to a crisis. His reaction to the earthquake that finally hits Cambridge in earnest also threw me for a bit of a loop, but as you write, his rational mind was turned off at that moment... he's scared half to death that the apocalypse has come.

My favorite bit of exposition in Chapter 1, then, is when he awakens in the fields of Pallet. You scaled back the level of description somewhat, and I actually think it's perfect. As a reader, I like having some descriptive details left out so that I can help to populate my own mental image, which may not necessarily coincide with someone else's.

--

So, chapter 2. Your description of Prof. Oak's lab is about on par with Pallet Town, though perhaps just slightly more dense - not a bad thing in this case, since what Damian sees is important to the setting, and helps identify it for those of us who already know it.

I especially enjoy how Damian is trying to make everything around him make sense in terms of his own world. That's how most people would react, I think - you wouldn't immediately jump to the conclusion that you've somehow been transported to an alternate universe. So everything he perceives, he's trying to take comfort in its familiarity, because it both is and is not an alien realm.

Your tenses switch back and forth a little, which can be a bit jarring. For example: "Damian knew the answer was Pallet Town, but he wasn't quite sure where Pallet Town is." I do understand, though, that what you're trying to convey is not just narration, but also Damian's thought process in real-time. If I might offer a suggestion on this point, have him engage in more italicized internal dialogue - like you did when he was going into stream-of-consciousness freak-out mode in chapter 1. That mental chatter can help sort out the tenses - he can still think in the present tense, while you continue to narrate the story in the past tense.

Damian falling asleep at the end of the chapter comes off as a bit of a deus ex machina, especially since there was a Chansey walking into the room at the precise moment he was closing his eyes... but I realize it was rather necessary in order to allow for a clean break in narration.

--

I like the concision in the beginning of chapter 3. A quick recap that Damian runs through, in trying to collect all the facts regarding his whereabouts. I also like how he's trying to, once again, take comfort in how "ordinary" things are in the setting he's in - up until the moment he sees Chansey in the picture, like it's no big deal. His fantasizing about Chansey's origins sound a little on the mark for someone who's had no experience with the Pokémon world, but if he's an imaginative fellow, I can give that a pass.

I notice that so far, Nurse Joy and Professor Oak have used relatively few contractions when they speak - they use some, but it seems to be more rare for them than for Damian. Was that on purpose, or did it simply come out that way as you were writing it? I find it fascinating.

Thank you very much for writing out the pronunciation of his last name. That would have driven me bonkers.

I'm enjoying Damian's application of his major... social sciences. He can't help but be fascinated by this culture that no one from his Earth has ever encountered.

I would again encourage a greater use of internal dialogue to help with your tense separation - my eyes get stuck on sentences that would otherwise be easy for me to absorb and breeze through. This happens most where the narration focuses on Damian's mental struggles, and I think it inadvertently twines with his thought process.

--

Chapter 4 introduces a possibility that Damian had not yet addressed, and I'm glad to see it: what if it's all a dream? But he's willing to go with it, as long as it gets him back to where he belongs. Also, I'm loving your description of what it's like to have his hand hovering over the respective Poké Balls - it hadn't occurred to me that they would have an aura about them to help with identification, and I really like that take on it. His intuition again seems just a little too conveniently correct regarding their origins, but then again, your imagination can run amok in a place like this.

I had to chuckle at your pointing out "Squirtle" was an awfully convenient name for that Pokémon, something he's liable to discover many times over in the course of his journey.

I've been waiting for the uncomfortable moment when Damian has to sit down with the Professor and Nurse Joy and explain, in depth, more of what it's like to live in this world. I appreciate that you were concise with that segment, yet you also gave it the attention to detail and respect it deserves... it may sound odd, but it's just the right amount of bittersweet. It's difficult not to fall in love with the Pokémon world through a computer screen, but I imagine falling headlong into it would make the average person pine for home, no matter how flawed that home was - and all the while, Nurse Joys, Officer Jennys, and Pokémon professors are wondering why you would ever want to go to a place like that.

--

Chapter 5. Actually, by this point it's getting a little more difficult to offer a critique. You seem to be developing your style of narration, and so far everything is fairly self-explanatory, as he's getting ready for his journey. But the anticipation is building - I do want to see what happens next.

It occurs to me that I'm jumping up and down on tense confusion without really providing proper examples... let me rectify that. "Damian was also cautioned that Squirtle doesn't have infinite energy and, if she is pushed too hard, she will be unable to fight, leaving Damian to face any threats alone." It confuses me mostly because this is narration of (presumably) events that have already occurred, but is framed as a hypothetical future scenario. If you find yourself doing this, you may want to play around with the wording. I have confidence, however, that you'll be able to achieve a smooth flow with it as you continue.

--

In conclusion... I'm enjoying the story! Hope there's a steady stream of it, because I haven't exercised my reading skills in a while, and if I'm gonna write, I ought to be reading, too.

[Magmar]

Thank you for all your feedback, Matt. I'm getting to know Damian through the story, and it's hard to separate my own worldview from Damian's. I deliberately designed a character that was dissimilar to me so that I can separate myself from him. I like to think of how Jo Rowling wrote about Harry Potter, a boy who didn't share her own experience. It's a challenge!

The end of Chapter 5 was a bit rushed because I want most of his exposition on the world to happen in this chapter. I'm sure that Damian, with his highly educated perspective, could talk to Professor Oak for the remainder of the story. But then, he wouldn't discover anything! He's got to hit the road in order to explore this mysterious world. Otherwise, it's just going to be like one of those fanfictions that grows boring very quickly, where the protagonist is just a little too smart, you know?

Chapter 6
I'm Not Afraid

I didn't want a second chance,
Now that's exactly where I am,
Back where I didn't want to be...

Damian stood on the threshold of journey, looking out onto the grassy hills of the road ahead but feeling conflicted about leaving behind this comfortable village that took him in when he needed it most. Life is full of challenges, and to Damian Czszewicz, challenges are just one part of the grand adventure, and solving sociocultural enigmas is his calling.

But as he stood on that blessed threshold, where the wilds of an unknown world called him, he felt the homely village beckon back, telling him to be safe, to stay, to explore other options to find his way home. There was an air of cognitive dissonance; Damian wanted to go home so badly, but he didn't want to leave this village and face monsters of which he knew nothing.

There he stood, looking back on the town called Pallet, where beige buildings with colorful roofs stood silently. It was like a rural village in Delaware, just without pavement and cars, where people seemed to interact with an air of openness and sincerity. There lived a Professor, and that Professor was wise, and mature, and there was a Nurse, and she was steadfast and strong, and there was a monster, and its name was Chansey, and they were all friends.

That one moment of doubt seemed to stretch the entire day, but as the morning waxed to day, the sea-breeze began to blow again. Damian felt the winds blowing onshore as if they were pushing him along the path, telling him that it was okay to go, that the world was good to good people, and his lifetime of good karma would reward him with the way home.

If there was one thing that seemed obvious to Damian, it was that he was at an enormous disadvantage in this world called Kanto. Children would set off on great journeys to become master trainers of Pokémon, and surely they knew who more than two of these mysterious Pokémon were by they time they set off on their adventure. These children, who were barely 10 years old, understood what a Water Pokémon was and how to use strategy to win against other trainers and wild Pokémon. Damian still had no idea, but it seemed like a great game of rock-paper-scissors, only infinitesimally more complicated, with distinct rules that could be learned through rigorous studying. All he knew was that his new friend called Squirtle would easily beat a Fire Pokémon, and that there were other Pokémon that could use electricity to overpower Squirtle easily. The power of Electric Pokémon was an intimidating concept, but he would have to wait for an encounter to truly understand the power of these monsters here. Damian hoped he would never meet one of these Electric-types here, for although he was not afraid, he felt that perhaps his Squirtle was not strong enough to handle what was hiding in these fields and trees.

Maybe if I catch a Pokémon that is strong to Electric-types, or really work to cover my bases, I'll have a safer journey, Damian thought as his hand hovered over Squirtle's Poké Ball.

And so with one hesitant step, Damian began his journey north, ready to walk trails no human from his Earth had ever walked before. He felt lonely, wishing he could run into anybody from his world, that he could hear that everything would be okay. It would take all of him to extinguish these burning doubts within his mind.

--------

He may have walked two miles before he finally stopped to rest. There was an uphill path ahead, and on that path were several brick ledges built within the hill. They made the perfect stoops to stop and sip from his water canteen.

It was now close to noon, and he still hadn't encountered any wild Pokémon. He noticed that there were small ants that crawled on the dusty road and dutifully carried foliage to their homes. It was like he never left Boston in the first place, just a more rural suburb like he would see in Delaware.

Sipping from his canteen, Damian wished his phone worked and that he could use headphones to listen to music on the long journey. I'd probably be more vulnerable if my ears are blocked, Damian thought. He closely observed his surroundings for anything that seemed unusual, but the scenery looked just like his Earth. There were rolling hills with patches of tall, blossoming grass. The sky was huge, reminiscent of his road trip to the West Coast after his sophomore year of college. He had seen skies like this in Montana; they seemed to stretch forever, and he could see clouds for dozens of miles in any direction. He realized he had gone slightly uphill for most of the walk; he could still see Pallet Town in the distance. He thought of the Professor and the Nurse, how they had helped him and cared for him. He wondered whether the people of his Earth would ever show such kindness to a stranger.

There was a patch of tall grass about a dozen feet to his right. Damian noticed that the grass was moving, as though an animal were rustling about in pursuit of something to eat. His curiosity piqued, Damian stood up and made his way over to the grass. This could be my first chance to use Squirtle in a battle against another monster.

Entering the grass, Damian felt the sensation of a peculiar aura. There was something else living here. For a second, he wished that Professor Oak was here, armed with the wisdom of what this Pokémon could be; but this was his journey, and whatever was scurrying about here was surely not beyond his capability to handle.

The rustling grew closer. Damian reached into his pocket where his cell phone would usually be and pulled out his Pokédex. He pointed it at the rustling grass, but the device was silent. He would have to approach the monster on his own. Damian pushed the grass out of his face and found himself inches away from discovering the creature. It was time for his journey to begin.

Peeling away the final layer of grass, Damian found an animal that resembled a mouse, with a long, curly tail and large teeth. Its purple fur clung close to its body; its underside was white, its eyes red. The Pokédex finally responded to the monster before him. It began to flash blue, and spoke to him:

"Rattata, a Mouse Pokémon," the Pokédex said. "It is a Normal-type Pokémon. Acommon sight, Rattata is one of the most populous Pokémon. It will eat anything and everything. It is easy to train and loves to fight."

Damian closed the Pokédex. The Rattata stared at him, its head pushing back into its body and its hind rising into the air. It wanted a fight, and Damian wanted to try his hands at a Pokémon battle. Reaching for his waist, Damian found the Poké Ball that held his friend within. "Come on out, Squirtle!" he yelled, throwing the Poké Ball towards the Rattata. Squirtle appeared in a flash of red light, facing her enemy with simultaneous curiosity and eagerness. This was Squirtle's first fight against a wild Pokémon, and she was ready to prove her worth to Damian.

"Squirtle, beat it up!" Damian yelled, but Squirtle stared back at him, looking confused. The Rattata reared back and charged at Squirtle, tackling her to the dusty ground. Squirtle quickly jumped up and looked back at Damian, desperate for a command.

Reopening the Pokédex, Damian asked what Squirtle could do to fight. "Squirtle can use three attacks," the Pokédex said quickly. "Squirtle can Tackle, use Tail Whip, and use an attack called Bubble."

Damian wasn't sure what to do, but commanded Squirtle to use Tackle. Squirtle nodded her head and reared back, charging at the Rattata and knocking it down. The Rattata slowly got up and growled at Squirtle, its high-pitched voice crying back at Squirtle. Damian could have sworn that the creature perfectly enunciated its name.

"Okay, Squirtle! Good job!" said Damian. "Now use your Bubble attack!"

Squirtle replied with an understand call of her name, and pulled her head back into her shell. Facing Rattata directly, she blew a rapid stream of bubbles that seemed to explode lightly on impact, knocking Rattata backwards. The Rattata replied by swinging its tail at Squirtle, but the move didn't seem to have much effect. Squirtle's shell was too strong for the Tail Whip to damage her.

"Alright," said Damian, reaching for one of his vacant Poké Balls on his waist. "This is our chance, Squirtle! Okay, Poké Ball, go!" Damian threw the Poké Ball head-on at the Rattata. The ball opened, sucking Rattata inside. Rattata vanished in a display of red light, much like Squirtle did upon being recalled back into her Poké Ball; the device wiggled and wobbled as the Rattata struggled against captivity. The moment seemed to last for ages, but at last, the device was silent, and Rattata became a part of Damian's team.

Damian was relieved that the battle was over. It seemed that battling Pokémon wasn't as intense or violent as he had originally anticipated. And now he had a new friend, a Rattata, which if the Pokédex was correct, would readily obey him and grow quickly. He had learned how to capture a wild Pokémon and had succeeded on his first try.

Squirtle ran up to Damian and hugged his leg. "Squirtle!" she cried out, sharing in his good feeling. Damian put his hand on Squirtle, proud of her for obeying him so readily. This is what it means to trust your Pokémon, thought Damian. You have to trust them to listen to you, to follow your commands.

Damian decided not to recall Squirtle into her Poké Ball. He knew that if he followed the road ahead, he would be at Viridian City in a few hours. Leaving the patch of grass, Damian looked back on Pallet Town one last time, then continued on his journey northbound, Squirtle bouncing by his side.

[Magmar]

This is the part where I'm having a bit of trouble. I think Damian needs a companion. I'll keep working with what I've got, and we'll see what Damian ends up doing to remedy this.

Chapter 7
I'll Be Your Friend

So you come chasing after me,
But I’m just barely out the door…

The noontime sun shone strong in the sky. It was a clear day, and the dusty path seemed to bounce the heat back in Damian's face. It was a bit warmer than he'd experienced in Boston at this time of year, but Spring wasn't quite as far along; many of the trees were still covered with clusters of small leaves, eager to blossom as the branches stretched towards the azure sky. It was a beautiful sight, and certainly did not seem alien to Damian.

Yet here was a world, populated by these mysterious monsters and people who learned to adapt to their presence and coexist with them. It was full of life, this Earth, and everything from the dirt on his shoes to the wind at his back was teeming with energy. It wasn't like the Earth he knew. His Earth was alive, too, but compared to this world, his Earth could have been dead for years.

And how Damian missed his world! His heart ached for the companionship of his best friend Lana, for his phone to vibrate with an annoying text from his mother, for his roommates to leave a pile of dirty dishes--those simple things were the things in that moment that Damian missed the most. Damian missed having a city to go to, a bicycle to ride across paved roads, and manufactured beaches with warm sand that crunched beneath his toes and hardened the soles of his feet.

Damian felt like the alien here, even though he was surrounded by such peculiar and beautiful creatures that his Earth had never imagined. He felt like a stranger, even though he was welcome here and, as long as he didn't give it away too readily, no one would know that he could have born in this world yesterday based upon what he knew about this land called Kanto. His heart was full of so many conflicting thoughts and emotions. The weight of the cognitive dissonance was like a force of gravity, planting his boots to the path beneath him and holding him back from moving. But deep inside, Damian had hope, a spark of light, that there was a way home and this would be just one grand adventure. It was the spark that kept him moving, and so Damian pressed on.

He worried whether there would be a home to return to. His Earth had crumbled apart, rebelling against the life that inhabited it, pulling itself to pieces and undoing the millions of years of progress that life had made. He wondered if he could return to that very moment in which he found himself here, or whether he would travel back to today, only home, or if he would arrive 50 years in the past, or 500, or 500,000 years before was even born. He questioned whether he'd have a taste of a future he was never meant to see--or perhaps he was already there, on a future Earth, where animals had evolved into these sentient creatures that he was instructed to use as tools to achieve his own goals. It didn't feel fair that he was the one here, and that he didn't have someone to relate to, that there were no strangers here. But still, Damian pressed on.

His mind was lost in thought; he had all but forgotten about Squirtle and Rattata, and could have easily forgotten about Pokémon entirely. His mind was so focused on what was not there, that his Earth was not there, and it took the rustling of grass further up the way to divert his attention back to reality, at least his reality, or what he perceived to be his own reality.

With all these thoughts racing through his mind, Damian didn't feel like picking a battle with a wild Pokémon, but he knew he had to do it if he wanted to get to Mt. Moon safely. As Damian approached the grass, several auburn birds flew from the patch. Damian fumbled for his Pokédex and, opening the little red computer, pointed it at the closest bird.

“Pidgey, a Bird Pokémon,” chirruped the Pokédex. “These Pokémon leverage the power of the wind and physical attacks in order to fight off prey. Their diet consists of bugs and seeds.”

“Okay,” Damian said, speaking out loud for the first time in a while; his throat felt hoarse from his own silence. “It’s time to try Rattata in a battle. Come on out, Rattata!”

Damian tossed the Poké Ball into the air, and his new friend emerged in a flash of pink light. Rattata looked around and, locating a Pidgey that was pecking at the ground for seeds and worms, shifted his body so that he was facing its newfound foe.

“What can Rattata do?” Damian asked the Pokédex. The computer obeyed his oral command, displaying a selection of techniques that Rattata knew. “Tackle, Quick Attack, and Tail Whip. Okay, Rattata! Try your Quick Attack!”

Rattata turned to Damian, then turned back to the Pidgey. The Pokémon was now watching Rattata with interest. Rattata stepped back once, twice, then charged at exceptional speed toward the Pidgey. He slammed his purple head into the bird, which was knocked over. Fussed, the Pidgey quickly stood up and, facing Rattata, flapped its wings quickly. The dry dirt around Pidgey flew towards Rattata, hitting him full-force. His eyes closed, Rattata began to retreat.

“Oh, damn it, come back, Rattata!” Damian shouted, recalling Rattata back into his Poké Ball. “Alright, then, Squirtle, it’s up to you!”

With two quick flashes of pink light, Rattata vanished, and Squirtle appeared, her eyes on the Pidgey. She opened her mouth wide and, much to Damian’s surprise, ejected a powerful stream of bubbles from her mouth. The bubbles seemed to explode around the Pidgey, disorienting the bird. The Pidgey flapped its wings again, but the wave of sand and dust blew far to the right of Squirtle.

“Squirtle, tackle the Pidgey down to the ground! We’re going to try to catch it!” yelled Damian.

Squirtle nodded her head and charged at the Pidgey. She jumped into the air by about a foot, landing neatly on top of the Pidgey. Pinned down, the Pidgey struggled, unable to escape Squirtle’s grip.

Damian seized the opportunity. “Alright, Poké Ball, let’s catch this Pidgey!” Removing one of the four remaining empty Poké Balls from his belt, Damian threw the red capsule at the Pidgey. It opened in another flash of pink light, drawing the Pidgey into its chamber. Squirtle fell to the ground and looked at Damian, a hint of confusion on her periwinkle face.

The Poké Ball jiggled and wobbled, and in an instant, it was still. The Pidgey was now a part of Damian’s team. As if his hand was magnetic, the Poké Ball soared through the air towards his open palm. But something wasn’t right. The Poké Ball was knocked aside as though an invisible hand had brushed it aside. Damian ran over to the spot where the Poké Ball had fallen aside and noticed a small stone that was not covered in dirt.

“Who threw that?” said Damian, looking from left to right. With a cry of “Squirtle, Squirtle!” Squirtle pointed behind Damian and, following her head, Damian turned around.

From a short distance in the direction Damian was traveling, there was a woman running toward him, gasping for air, a look of wild frustration on her face. “Don’t pick up that ball! I need that Pidgey!” she yelled, drawing large breaths as she came to a stop in front of Damian. Something about her felt strange to Damian. She didn’t look like she belonged here, in this world, and his instinct told him that most people of her age in Kanto had long since moved on from arguing with other adults over young Pidgeys.

Squirtle looked at the woman, then looked at Damian. Something about the two was similar, and Squirtle could sense it, too.

“How can I help you?” Damian asked, unable to stop staring at her chest. It had nothing to do with her figure, which was full, or her low-cut shirt, which was revealing: but it had everything to do with the design of her shirt, which bore the figure of a thin man with shaggy hair, and the words printed above his portrait.

Those seven letters astonished Damian, and he was confused, and a bit frightened, and completely astonished.

“Can I help you is the question,” said the woman, pulling the shirt up to cover her breasts completely. Damian noticed that the woman had many tattoos. She picked up the Poké Ball, then threw it up into the air; the Pidgey flew into the air, cooed aloud, then flew to Damian, perching on his shoulder.

“Oh, that’s no good!” she said, clearly disappointed and a bit annoyed. “I really need all the Pokémon I can get! But it looks like Pidgey’s allegiance is already with you.”

“Where did you get that shirt?” Damian asked point-blank, becoming aware that the Pidgey had sunk its clawed feet into his shoulder. “I’m not from here, but I didn’t know The Cure was a thing here.” A humorous thought crossed Damian’s mind; he didn’t think hipsters were a thing here.

Comprehension flashed across the woman’s face. She looked up at Damian, her dark brown eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses, her pink hair sticking up at odd angles. “You… you must be Damian, I heard all about you from the Professor!”

“And who exactly are you? And why do you need my Pidgey?” Damian asked, being unsure of where to begin this conversation.

“My name is Tanya, but my friends call me Grey. My friends back home, that is…”

“Grey,” Damian said, looking Grey directly in the eye. “Are you from Earth? I mean, I’m sure this is Earth, too, but are you from, well, not here?”

Grey looked at Damian, recognizing that Damian really was the person she had heard all about from the Professor she spoke to in the city called Viridian. “I was brought here during an earthquake… I’m from New York, a very big city in the world I’m from.”

“And I’m from Boston, well, I’m from Delaware, but I’m going to school in, well, I mean, I went to school in Boston, and then I ended up here,” said Damian. “So there are more of us who ended up here? I thought we were the only ones.”

“We are the only ones, according to Professor Wood,” said Grey. “The Professor has this computer, and showed me how time and space had shifted for just a moment, and two waves of energy passed into this world. She was just on the phone with another Professor when I left. I heard her say your name, well, she was trying to, she kept mispronouncing it. I started heading in this direction, and I guess I was going the wrong way, but I had a gut feeling that this was the way to go.”

Damian’s brain swam with too many thoughts at once. He didn’t know what to say. Squirtle was chasing a moth, jumping at the air, trying to catch it in her palms. Curious, Damian raised his Pokédex to Squirtle.

“A moth,” said the Pokédex. “That is a moth. It is not a Pokémon. Don’t waste your time.”

Damian chuckled a bit, and so did Grey. “Snarky, isn’t it, this Pokédex. But, you know, it’s interesting…” He didn’t know where the words came from, but he began to tell Grey the story about how he also woke up in a field near a town called Pallet, and how he had no idea where he was or what he was doing here, but that he needed to go to a place called Mt. Moon in order to, possibly, find the way back home. His story ended as the first patchy cloud of the afternoon covered the Sun, causing the temperature to drop a few degrees.

“I’m going that way, too,” said Grey. “Professor Wood told me to go to Mt. Moon and find the Moon Stone.”

“Well then, why don’t we travel together?” said Damian. “We’re both trying to get back to Earth, well, our Earth anyway, and I’m sure if we work together, we’ll find the Moon Stone much more quickly.”

Grey shrugged. “Suits me,” she said. “By the way, what Pokémon did you find so far? I’ve only got a Charmander.”

“Squirtle and Pidgey, and a Rattata,” said Damian. “I guess, between us, we’ve got four, and four’s better than three, and two’s better than one. Viridian City is north of here, right? The direction you just came from?”

Just then, a Pidgey swooped down from the sky and landed right in front of Grey. A look of determination on her face, she chucked a Poké Ball at it, hitting the bird full on in the face. Damian’s jaw dropped as the bird was sucked into the Poké Ball in that familiar flash of pink light and, much to his surprise, the Poké Ball broke back open, flying back into Grey’s hand. The Pidgey looked at her with consternation and annoyance written all over its pointed face, kicking sand up in her general direction.

“Ugh, these—effing—Pokémon!” yelled Grey, throwing the Poké Ball again. This time, it hit the bird on the side, sucking the now flabbergasted Pidgey inside. The ball wiggled back and forth but, to Grey’s relief and Damian’s amusement, the Poké Ball grew still.

“That’s one way to do it,” said Damian, trying not to laugh aloud as a look of triumph appeared across Grey’s face. “I usually use Squirtle to wear the other Pokémon out, then try to catch it when it’s tired.”

“I don’t have time for that, I’ve got a graduation back at home that I’ve got to get to,” said Grey. “I’m supposed to graduate next month! Plus my birthday’s this Tuesday, and it would be nice to be home for that.”

“Me too,” said Damian. “That’s all the more reason that we should try to get back home. So, it’s north, right?”

“Yeah, the city’s this way. Let’s head back to Viridian, I’m hungry and don’t feel like cooking,” Grey said honestly.

Damian was amused and relieved by the presence of Grey. At least he wasn’t alone in this peculiar world. Now, one became two, and three became five, and there were safety in numbers.

[Magmar]

So Damian has a friend. Grey is shameless and gritty, and such a nerd. We'll see how long this relationship lasts!

Chapter 8
Expo '86

Sometimes I think this cycle never ends,
We slide from top to bottom, then we turn and climb again...

Walking down a dirt path is much more exciting when you've got company, and time passes much more quickly when there are two of you, rather than one. And while Damian wasn't truly alone for his adventure, it was nice to have a friend who could speak English. When traveling with Grey, things were bound to get... interesting.

The sky had begun to grow more overcast as the afternoon wore on, but Grey insisted that their destination, Viridian City, was little more than an hour away. A slight breeze began to pick up from the direction of Pallet Town; the air smelled a bit salty. Damian checked the map on his Pokédex and noticed that Pallet was a coastal town, and they would be heading inland.

"So what do you reckon the Moon Stone is?" Grey asked Damian, turning back, as she was leading the way.

"Probably a rock," said Damian. "I'm guessing there's none other quite like it in this part of the world, because the Professors seem to revere it."

Grey shrugged. "Whatever it is, I hope it's got WiFi and a way home. Maybe it's like that show, Doctor Who, and there's a rift through time and space."

"I've never seen Doctor Who," said Damian.

"Ugh! I live for Doctor Who! I wish the Doctor would rock up right now with the T.A.R.D.I.S. and take me far away from this place. It's nice and all, but I miss my own bed already."

"With the what?"

"The T.A.R.D.I.S.," said Grey. "It's a Time Lord spaceship. It's not too complex, see, it travels through time and space..."

"But it's fiction," said Damian, not really feeling this conversation at the moment. "We're not getting taken back home in a T.A.R.D.I.S. and there's no Doctor."

"I thought Pokémon was fiction, too, I'd never heard of anything like this," said Grey flatly. "But here we are. So you can go ahead and be Captain Realism and I'll keep my mind open. Who knows how we're getting home?"

"Maybe we'll fly there on our Pidgeys," said Damian, shrugging. "Hey, can I see your Charmander? I haven't seen it yet."

"Oh, well," said Grey, shrugging back at Damian. "You see... I wasn't really okay with this whole battling thing. I'm a pacifist and so I set the Charmander free."

"You're joking!" said Damian, putting his palm to his face. "We need the Pokémon to protect us, because some of them are dangerous. No wonder you were just chucking Poké Balls at whatever you saw!"

"Relax, Damian!" exclaimed Grey. "I was just joking. I'm serious when I say I really don't want to force my Charmander to fight, I want her to be peaceful. Just because it's necessary to make Pokémon fight doesn't mean it's the right thing to do, Damian."

Damian thought for a moment, then said, "You're right, Grey, the last thing I wanted was to make my Squirtle fight. I guess as long as it's self-defense, then we should be okay, but we shouldn't go picking fights wherever we can, just because we can."

"Besides, Damian, how threatening are these Pokémon anyway? Mice and birds, Damian, we could just as easily step on them, or throw rocks and they'd leave us alone. But doesn't that sound cruel? What's the difference between stepping on a Rattata and making your Squirtle do it for you?"

Grey had this way of saying everything that was in the back of Damian's mind. He was really starting to enjoy her company, but he worried that the journey would get more difficult if every time there was a Pokémon in the way, he would be given a guilt trip for asking Squirtle for help. Yet, no one was forcing him to fight; it was he who would be forcing Squirtle to fight, after all.

Damian noticed something in the road ahead. "Hey, Grey, what's that?" he asked, as Grey was closer. They jogged toward the mysterious roadblock ahead, only to find that it was another Pidgey, pecking away at the ground for worms and bugs. This one was the fattest Pidgey they'd seen yet.

"Oh, dude!" exclaimed Grey. "Hey, let me try my Pokédex and see what it says about this one."

Grey's Pokédex opened with a faint click and began to chirrup to Grey and Damian. "Pidgey, a Bird Pokémon. You should know what it is by now. This one is an excellent hunter, but has gotten too good at it and has gained weight from all the excess nutrition."

"It's a snarky little talking wallet, isn't it?" said Damian. "Mine gives me attitude sometimes, too."

But Grey was in her element now. For some reason, she needed to have another Pidgey. She put three Poké Balls in her hand at once and, not caring what would happen, threw them all at the Pidgey at the same time. There was a popping sound, and the closest Poké Ball absorbed the Pidgey; the others flew back at Grey, nearly hitting her in the head.

This time, the Pidgey broke out and became visibly agitated with Damian and Grey. "Pi, PI!" the Pidgey cried, blowing sand in their faces. Running back, Grey felt the hard jab of the Pidgey's beak on the back of her head.

"Dude, the freakin' Pidgey! It's gone crazy!" yelled Grey. "What do we do?"

"We have to battle it to make it stop!" yelled Damian, choking on dust and pebbles.

Grey let out a growl that sounded half-frustrated and half-desperate, then threw a Poké Ball up into the air. "Come on out, Solidarity!" she exclaimed.

"Chaaar!" cried the Charmander, and with one fell swoop, the Charmander had jumped on top of the Pidgey, pinning it to the ground. As the dust cleared, Damian could just make out the outlines of the Charmander and Pidgey as they began to attack one another.

The Charmander seemed to step back from the Pidgey as if in retreat, but exhaled powerfully in its direction. Flames shot from the Charmander's mouth towards the Pidgey and, in a quick motion, the Charmander jumped into the air and extended the claws in its hands. One scratch was all it took for the Pidgey to be still.

"Oh, no! Solidarity, did you kill that Pidgey??" yelled Grey. She ran towards Solidarity and the Pidgey, which appeared to be breathing. "Oh, thank God it's alive."

The Pidgey slowly stood up and got to its feet. With an indignant "Pi!" the bird spread its wings, flying away and leaving charred feathers in its wake.

Damian was speechless. The display of violence from Solidarity the Charmander took his breath away. This creature, this Charmander, was dangerous, and Grey didn't seem to have much control of her. He recognized the opportunity to use his Pokédex to learn more about Charmander.

"Charmander. It's a Fire-type Pokémon," said the Pokédex. "Be careful. This Pokémon can breathe fire. It has sharp claws which can pierce skin. If the flame on its tail goes out, it will die."

Her eyes were large and bright, its body reptilian, its teeth sharp and, sure enough, a small flame burned on the tail of the Charmander called Solidarity. And in that moment, Damian realized this wasn't about getting around just mice and birds anymore, but Pokémon could be dangerous, and he questioned, in his mind, whose great idea it was to send children out into the wild to tame these creatures.

[Magmar]

Now that I've moved across town into my boyfriend's apartment (ch-ch-ch-changes!) I've got some time to update again. I still needs a job

But until that happy moment comes where I'm employed, I've got some extra time and rather than sit around watching Roomba eat crumbs I'll update this. Damian and Grey discover the joys of Pokemon battling, and finally Viridian City--and oh, they have bars.

Down with the establishment!

Chapter 9
The Compromise

Meet me in the middle, well come on let's make up a dance,
And we'll agree to call it the compromise

The air was a bit warmer in the valley, and after a half hour of clumsily navigating downhill and powering up the last steep stretch of Route 1, Damian and Grey could see the city in the distance. The clouds had passed, the warm spring sun pulsed in the sky, and a few dark clouds were moving in from the rest. It looked like, if it was going to rain, they would stay dry.

To Damian's surprise, for the first time since leaving, he could see other people, the exception being Grey, in the distance. It looked like there were other Pokémon, too, but it was a bit too far away to tell. Here at last was their first landmark, the first checkpoint that stood between here and being home again--Viridian City. The lush green fields spoke to the name of the city, and Damian felt a touch of his own Earth when he identified Viridian City's skyline. It was the first step, and he estimated that in about a week, they'd be searching Mt. Moon for the Moon Stone.

"Well, should we get going?" said Grey, having caught her breath from the steep climb. She wasn't as used to physical exercise as Damian, living in the same building as her classes at her university.

"Yeah, Grey, it might rain soon, there's some dark clouds coming from the west," answered Damian, pausing to enjoy the breeze from the summit for a brief moment before allowing his legs to lead him down the hill. He was grateful that he chose to wear boots on the night he was sent to Kanto, as they made walking easier. Grey was wearing flats and leggings, not ideal travel clothes.

Damian and Grey found they covered distance quickly when traveling downhill, and it couldn't have been more than ten minutes when they found themselves finally in another valley, about half a mile separating themselves from the city. A short way ahead of them, Damian noticed someone sitting against a tree, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked young, probably hadn't hit adolescence yet, and his t-shirt was white, the Poké Ball logo printed on his chest.

Damian had a habit of smiling to children, as though to say that not all adults were evil, and so as he walked by, he caught the child's eye, smiled, and waved a hand. He was surprised when the kid jumped to his feet and ran up to him.

"Hey, mister!" said the boy, gasping for breath; he must have been playing earlier. "Do you want to have a Pokémon battle? I've just caught one!"

"Um..." said Damian, noticing that he was about two feet taller than the boy. "Don't you have friends your age to be playing with?"

"Of course I do!" said the boy, and he puffed out his chest as though he were very important. "I'm Abel, and I'm going to be a Pokémon Master! I need to train my Pokémon and make them fight everyone to grow stronger. Will you battle me?"

"I'm Damian, and um..." Damian turned to Grey, who shrugged. The brutal battle of the Pidgey against Grey's Charmander, Solidarity, was fresh in his mind. "I guess so."

"Alright! Great!" yelled Abel. "Let's have a one-on-one battle. Winner gets 150 Pokédollars, how's that sound?"

Pokédollars... thought Damian. Everything here revolves around Pokémon. It's kind of weird. "Well, let's give it a go, but I warn you, I'm pretty tough!"

Damian wasn't sure why he was going through with the fight, yet he knew this was something he had to do for the time being. He didn't have to agree with it; all that mattered was making it to Mt. Moon, and if he had to humor kids with Pokémon battles for a little while, at least he could make a little extra money doing it, regardless of whether he agreed with the whole institution of Pokémon violence.

Abel stepped backwards from Damian, then thought carefully as he hovered his hand over two Poké Balls. After a moment of consideration, he chose one, and tossed it into the air. "I choose you, Crank!"

The Poké Ball revealed its bright, pink light, and in an instant, a small, brown creature with stubby arms and bright black eyes stood in front of Abel. Its skin appeared to be hard, like steel scales of bright auburn, and its tail looked heavy, as though it were made of stone. It let out a loud croak, its voice grainy and high-pitched.

"What's a Crank?" asked Damian and Grey at the same time, flipping their Pokédexes open and pointing them at the Crank.

"Sandshrew, a Ground-type Pokémon," chirruped the Pokédexes simultaneously. "It burrows deep underground, making mazes out of tunnels that confuse predators. It eats bugs and the roots of vegetables."

"Okay, so it's not a Crank, it's a Sandshrew," said Grey. "It's a Ground-type, so Charmander won't work."

Damian thought for a moment, recalling his conversation with Professor Oak. She should be able to hold her own against Ground and Rock-types, said the voice of the Professor in his memory. Squirtle can spray its enemies with foam from its mouth, the voice of the Pokédex said in his memory.

"Alright, then, go Squirtle!" yelled Damian. The pink light poured onto the ground, and Squirtle emerged from her Poké Ball. She looked at Damian, then at the Sandshrew called Crank, and understood.

Abel yelled, "Crank! Give the Squirtle your Scratch attack!" The Sandshrew jumped up into the air and bore its claws. Damian was surprised at how agile the Sandshrew was, leaping into the air and pouncing down at Squirtle.

Out of instinct, completely unsure if Squirtle could even do this, Damian shouted, "Squirtle! Withdraw into your shell quick! Then use your Bubbles!" In one quick motion, Squirtle had withdrawn into her shell, becoming nothing more than a small orange shell with a curly, fluffy blue tail poking out the back. In an instant, the Sandshrew's claws struck the shell, and the sound of something sharp breaking into pieces was heard.

The Sandshrew called Crank jumped back, startled and in pain. Squirtle reappeared out of her shell, completely unharmed, and exhaled a stream of bubbles at the Sandshrew. The bubbles exploded around the Sandshrew, and it yelped and curled into a ball, staggering while doing so. Abel yelled at the Sandshrew to try scratching Squirtle again, but the Sandshrew did not respond. It quivered in its round, protective pose, unwilling to fight any longer.

"Ugh! Dammit, Crank, return!" yelled Abel, recalling the Sandshrew. "Alright, Damian, you won, but that's just cuz you're an adult. Your Squirtle's probably way older than my Sandshrew."

"Actually, little man, I got this Squirtle only yesterday, and I never trained Pokémon until then," said Damian. "Good battle, though!"

"There's a Pokémon center in the city, so you can get your Sandshrew fixed up there," said Grey.

The boy nodded, then pulled his Pokédex out of his pocket. He pressed it to Damian's, and a small counter on the corner of the home screen increased by 150. "I gotta go, my Sandshrew's pretty messed up. I'll win next time!" said Abel, and he ran towards the city.

"Well, that's over," said Grey. "You're a natural, Damian!"

"Nah, it's Squirtle who's the natural," said Damian, picking up the Squirtle and setting her down on his shoulder. "We should go into the city, it's starting to get pretty dark out."

As Damian and Grey entered the city, a rumble of thunder shook the ground beneath their feet.

****

Damian was amazed by the size of the Pokémon Center, a tall, domed building adorned with the Pokémon insignia: the Poké Ball. Damian wondered whether there was some kind of national flag for Kanto, and whether that flag had the Poké Ball on it, or whether, due to the lack of other nations in this world, there was any need for a flag at all. Damian followed Grey into the Pokémon Center, walking through automatic sliding doors that parted as they approached and closed behind them. As soon as the doors closed, he heard a sound like a roar, or applause, echo through the high-ceilinged building; it had begun to downpour outside. A flash of lightning illuminated the glass ceiling, and the thunder that followed was muffled, yet distinct, over the sounds of Pokémon Trainers and nurses chatting.

There was a reception area ahead, and a short line of Pokémon Trainers, two carrying Pokémon that looked exhausted. There were three trainers and, to Damian’s disappoint, none of these trainers looked older than 12, and the two trainers carrying Pokémon were holding Rattata. “I guess we’re not seeing any new Pokémon in here,” said Damian to Grey. “What do we do? Just give the nurse our Poké Balls and hang out?”

“That’s the gist, yeah,” said Grey. “It’s a free service, which is miraculous in this day and age. I guess Pokémon Country or wherever we are has subsidized health care.”

“Well, thank God for that,” said Damian, and the pair moved forward as a young girl stepped out of the queue, her arms now empty, and her facial expressions spelled relief. “I met a nurse back in Pallet Town. Her name was Joy, she was really nice.”

Grey raised an eyebrow. “The nurse here’s name is Joy…” she said, crossing her arms. “Maybe she works two jobs?”

Damian could see over the heads of the two trainers in front of him. He noticed that the receptionist had pink hair in rounded braids, just like the nurse he had met. They must be the same person, he thought. “So, Grey, what’s there to do in this city? I didn’t bring an umbrella, I wasn’t even sure if they’d been invented yet here.”

“Well,” said Grey. “I think, and I could be wrong, that there are some bars around town.”

“There’s alcohol in Kanto?”

“Probably Poké-vodka at the Poké-bar on Poké-street,” replied Grey, rolling her eyes and speaking with a bit of crass in her voice. “We’ll see what they’ve got, there’s one right next door, and it looks like a townie pub. Maybe they’ll have real food.”

“Here’s hoping,” said Damian, and they stepped forward in the queue again. They were next in line. The girl ahead of him was holding two Poké Balls and speaking softly to the nurse who, according to the nametag on her apron, was Joy.

Joy spoke with care, assuring the girl that her Pidgey and something called Ekans would be fine. She collected the Poké Balls from the girl, gave her an empty cup, and directed her to a water cooler. “Make sure you hydrate, you can get thirsty fast when you’re on the road,” said Joy. “I’ll be done with your Pokémon in about a half hour.”

The girl nodded and bounded off to the water cooler. Grey stepped up to the counter. “Oh, hello again, Grey!” said Joy. “Did you find any good Pokémon today?”

“I caught a Pidgey,” said Grey. “It’s kind of a stupid Pidgey. And I’ve still got Solidarity, my Charmander. That’s it so far.”

“Well, let me give you a tip,” said Joy. “If you travel west from here, you’ll find some Pokémon you wouldn’t otherwise find on your trip into the forest that’s north from here. You should check out the Pokémon there.”

“I’ll get to it, thanks,” said Grey. “Here’s my Poké Balls, I’ll see you in half an hour?”

Joy handed Grey a cone-shaped paper cup. “Make sure you have some water while you wait,” she said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Grey took the paper cup and walked to the water cooler. Damian approached the counter and placed three Poké Balls on the counter. “Hi! It’s nice to see you again, Joy.”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” said Joy. “Did you come from Pallet Town? My cousin Joy works there.”

“Wait, you’re not the same person?” asked Damian, staring a bit rudely at Joy. “I met you in Pallet Town, you helped me out—“

“No, my cousin Joy is the nurse for Pallet Town. I’m a year younger than her, and I used to work for the Lavender Town Pokémon Center, but my younger sister Joy runs that Pokémon Center now, and I transferred here because I like helping children. There’s more kids coming through this route,” said Joy.

“So you’re all named Joy,” said Damian. “And you’re all nurses. Is being a nurse what you always wanted to do? And was your mom named Joy? What’s going on?”

Joy looked offended at the comment, but took the three Poké Balls from Damian. “So you’ve got a Squirtle, a Pidgey, and a Rattata. I’ll have them ready for you in a half hour. Have a glass of water.”

Damian took the cup and, feeling a bit frustrated, approached the water cooler. He noticed that the water cooler bore the brand name Cerulean Spring, but was otherwise identical to the Poland Spring water he was used to seeing in Boston. He poured a cup and drank it down, then poured a second and sat next to Grey.

“So, Grey, where do you reckon we’ll spend the night?” asked Damian.

“Well, the Pokémon Center is a 24-hour facility, and there are free beds for trainers here,” said Grey. “Usually Joy’s older sister, Joy, takes over in the evening and works the overnight. Isn’t it funny that they’re all named Joy?”

“I think it’s strange, it’s like they’re clones or robots or something,” said Damian, noting that among other things he wanted to understand about this world, he wanted to meet the mastermind behind the army of Joys that seemed to love nursing so much. He filed the mystery of Joy in the back of his mind. He would address this issue another time; maybe somewhere on the road to Mt. Moon, there would be another Joy who was a bit more open-minded, or maybe a nurse named Jeff or Kevin or Gabi. “So, Grey, you want to hit up the pub before we crash for the night? I’m starving.”

Grey nodded. “Yeah dude, I could go for some dinner and a bev. Oh, I hope they have vegan stuff.”

“You probably won’t like my favorite drink then, it’s got milk in it,” said Damian. “Ever have a White Russian?”

Grey had said something, but Damian froze for an instant. He had made a decision in his mind, right then and there, that he was going to ask a question that could lead to more clues about where this Kanto world really was. There were too many similarities to his Earth here, and the answer might be hiding in the local pub after all.

----

“Damian, where’d you go?”

Damian didn’t realize he had gotten lost in thought until he heard Grey’s voice so clearly in his ear. “Grey,” said Damian. “Tonight, when we go to the pub, we’re going to have a drink, at least I’m going to order one…”

A door next to the reception area swung open, and a Chansey walked out, pushing a small cart that had soft drinks and Poké Balls. Carefully, the Chansey passed out the Poké Balls to the three younger trainers, leaving five on the cart. The Chansey gave Grey and Damian their Pokémon, then scurried back through the swinging doors.

“I wonder why it was so fast, she said half an hour,” said Damian.

“Well, our Pokémon weren’t exactly maimed, so I’m sure it didn’t require much to fix them up,” said Grey, shrugging. “Hey, let’s go check out that bar down the street. I wonder what they’ve got.”

Damian followed Grey outside. The sun was finally beginning to set, and the storm had abated. The last few black clouds were dissipating, and the yellow sun shone from behind foliage, casting a glow on the city. For the first time, Damian appreciated just how very large Viridian City was. There were many houses, giving most of the city the feel of a large West Coast suburb, but there were also a few taller office buildings. As they walked down the pavement to the pub, Damian appreciated that there was life here beyond Pokémon battling. They arrived at the pub, which wasn’t called the Poké-Pub or the Poké-Bar after all, but was a pub called Lili’s and looked like a speakeasy from what he could see from outside. The pair walked into the nearly empty pub and sat at a round table in a darker corner. The interior was filled with dark red carpeting and garnet draperies, dark hardwood furniture, and cushy benches. Two couples about their age were playing pool and drinking martini-like beverages; Damian was surprised for about the hundredth time that very long day, but his surprise was that there were hipsters in Viridian City.

“Dude, they’ve got hipsters,” said Grey to Damian in a low voice. “Poké-hipsters.”

Damian laughed. A waitress approached their table and set two ornate menus down on the table, then pulled sets of clean silverware and napkins out of her apron. “Welcome to Lili’s, is this your first time here?” asked the waitress. “My name’s Zoe. Can I see your IDs?”

Grey pulled her Pokédex out of her cardigan pocket and placed it on the table. The machine projected a beam of light about a foot into the air, and Grey’s picture appeared in the beam of light. “Tanya McDougall, nickname Grey, born April 30, 1991,” said the Pokédex.

“Alright, you’re of age,” said Zoe. “And you, sir? Nice hair!”

“Thanks,” said Damian, not being sure how to trigger the Pokédex to give his identity to Zoe, but he placed the sarcastic device on the table, and it spoke.

“Damian Sz-skz-ewoks, born May 24, 1991,” said the Pokédex, but Damian blushed and grabbed the device, shoving it back into his shorts pocket.

“My last name is not ewok!” said Damian, annoyed. “It’s Czszewicz. Shez-a-wits. Stupid machine.”

Zoe and Grey laughed. “You’re so cute when you’re angry,” said Zoe. “My Pokédex called me Zoo for the longest time. Don’t take it too personal, surely by now you’re used to the Pokédex screwing up your name?”

“I just got it yesterday,” said Damian.

“Oh, you mean you’re a new trainer? Aren’t you a little old to just be starting out?” asked Zoe, who then gasped. “Sorry, that was insensitive. I know it requires a lot of bravery to get out there and do it. So would you like a drink? We’ve got some specials tonight, the Bulbasour martini is very popular.”

“I’ll try a Bulbasour martini,” said Grey.

“And I’ll have a White Russian,” said Damian.

Zoe nodded and scurried off to the bar, where a large bartender with more beard than anything else began mixing the Bulbasour. Damian watched with interest as the bartender poured something resembling Midori into a tumbler, adding a clear alcohol that could have been Poké-Vodka based on the label, and a host of other things from smaller bottles and juice containers.

“Hey, Damian,” said Grey. “I think I know what you’re up to. You’re brilliant, you know. I never would’ve thought of it.”

“There should be no concept of ‘Russian’ here if this place is truly disconnected from our world,” said Damian. “We’ll see what they can do.”

The sound of glass shattering echoed through the speakeasy, and Damian and Grey immediately turned to the pool table. A large, pink creature had appeared on the pool table, and they watched as Poké Balls poured from one of the women’s pocketbook onto the floor, a strap broken, as she tried desperately to catch them. Two more of the Poké Balls popped open, revealing two fish-like Pokémon that flopped helplessly on the floor.

“Oh, shoot!” yelled the woman, picking up the Poké Balls that were now empty. “Goldeen, Magikarp, get back in your Poké Balls now! And Slowpoke, you too, ugh! This pocketbook was so expensive!”

Her ginger hair frazzled, the woman stood up and apologized to the bartender. Zoe and the bartender shrugged their shoulders, and the bartender pointed toward a broomstick and dustpan hanging on the wall nearby. Annoyed, the woman began to sweep up the remnants of her Bulbasour.

“Jeez, Misty, you’re always dropping something,” teased a guy with brown, wavy hair. “It’ll be a miracle if you’re not a Christmas cake.”

“You’re—my—fiancée!” yelled Misty. “And unless you plan on braking off our engagement, we’ll be getting married next week and then you’re stuck with me!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop,” said the guy, rolling up his flannel sleeves and revealing a great deal of ridiculous, Pokémon-themed tattoos. “I’ll get you another drink, or do you want to do Squirtle shots?”

“I’ll do as many Squirtle shots as you want, as long as it’s not cheap beer and fennel afterwards,” grumbled Misty, and she turned to her friend to resume conversation.

Damian and Grey didn’t even notice that Zoe had returned with their drinks. Grey accepted her Bulbasour, and Damian was surprised when Zoe provided what appeared to be a well-made White Russian in a martini glass.

“Hey, Zoe, can I ask you a question?” said Damian. Zoe shrugged.

“Alright, so, I was wondering, are you sure this is a White Russian?”

“Yeah, they’re quite good, it’s one of my favorites,” said Zoe. “Mark makes really good White Russians. Is this your first time at Lili’s?”

“Yeah, it is. So, Zoe, I was wondering if you could help me figure something out. What’s a Russian?”

Zoe put her hand to her chin thoughtfully, then said, “I really have no idea what you mean, I always thought Russian was the name of the person who made the drink, or some brand of alcohol that used to go into it.”

Damian couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face. He turned to Grey; she looked disappointed, too. “Thanks, Zoe,” said Damian. “While you’re here, could I put in an order for a chicken salad?”

“You got it, dude,” said Zoe. “And will you be having anything, Grey?”

“I’ll have a cranberry walnut salad, but vegan Poké-Dressing if you’ve got it. Why… is it called Poké-Dressing?”

“Because Poké is the name of the biggest corporation in the land,” said Zoe. “Wow, I thought everyone knew that! Poké manufactures clothes, farms foods, and hires most of the adults around here. Pokédex. Poké Ball. They run the banks, they subsidize Pokémon Centers… they pretty much do everything. There’re not many other businesses, at least in some parts of the world. Here in Viridian City, you won’t find many Poké outlets, people always buy local. But it's sad to say things are changing...”

If Grey had one hobby that she loved most, it would be crushing the establishment of big business. She looked like she found the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, or like she had just witnessed a dog lay a dozen eggs. Damian knew in that moment that Grey had just found a greater purpose for being in Kanto than he had.

When Zoe took the food orders to the kitchen, Grey said, “So how do we take down Poké?”

“It doesn’t sound like Poké is that terrible of an organization,” said Damian.

“Then why,” said Grey, “do you think Zoe mentioned buying local in Viridian City? I wonder how much power this Poké business has over the other towns in the area.”

[Magmar]

Who runs the organization known as Poké? What are Pokémon? And as Damian and Grey begin to dig deeper into the mysteries of Kanto, soon they'll learn about power, and control, and how this world operates. But there will be a time for answers, and time will tell (as I write, honestly) how quickly they get them.

Author's Note: This is a more lighthearted chapter. As Damian and Grey get used to being in Kanto, at least a bit more than they've already adjusted, their personalities are starting to shine... (and it becomes obvious that Grey's kind of crazy)

Chapter 10
Power Doesn't Run On Nothing

...So let the sun bathe, let the sun bathe,
We'll still have life, we'll burn even brighter...

The sun had just risen when Damian woke up in the hostel at the Pokémon Center. As there were so few trainers staying the night, Damian and Grey had gotten a room to themselves, and Damian, a light sleeper, was glad that Grey slept so quietly. Grey had been awake before him, as she was sitting on her bed fiddling with her Pokédex by the light of the early morning sun.

It was Sunday, the 28th day of April, and the sky was a brilliant orange. Damian rolled out of bed and moved to the window to get a closer look at the morning, wondering whether he'd hear church bells or whether today was anyone's sabbath in Kanto. Everything was still, and the dew on the lush grass was undisturbed.

"Hey Grey," said Damian, turning to his roommate. "What are you looking up?"

"I'm trying to get more information on Poké," said Grey. "I can't find anything on the Pokédex other than the About tab in the menu, and there's just a copyright date, the version of the software on the Pokédex, and a hotline for product malfunctions. Their hotline only has four numbers in it, too, so I guess not many people have phones."

"Ah, gotcha," said Damian, reaching for his backpack and pulling out a pair of clean socks. He put on the socks, thinking that he was already tired of hearing Grey speculate about Poké, but he was curious, because if this Poké organization controlled so much of Kanto, then they just might control the culture of Kanto.

Grey sat up and left her bed, and Damian was a little surprised that she was wearing her flat, plaid shoes under the covers. "I smell breakfast, hopefully they've got toast without butter or soy milk here," said Grey as she made her way towards the door. "I could go for some coffee, too. Imagine if there's no coffee! I'd die. I'd keel over and die."

"I'd probably drop dead in about 6 hours," laughed Damian as he tied his boots. He'd showered and changed his underwear the night before, but had accidentally put on the same shirt. He reached into his bag and found a clean, plain black t-shirt. He took off his tank top and reached for some deodorant.

"Damn, Damian, I didn't realize you were so ripped," said Grey.

Damian never felt 'ripped'; he was pretty skinny, but he did have somewhat defined abs, and although he had a fair amount of acne still, he was raised to never feel ashamed of his body as long as he took good care of it. He muttered a sheepish "thanks?" and pulled on the shirt, then they made their way out of the hostel, bags in hand, to wash up in the bathroom.

He wasn't used to seeing his own face in the mirror, because the Damian who lived in Kanto felt like a very different Damian than the one who lived back in Boston. His face was a reminder that he hadn't changed who he was just because he was here, and waking up today was another reminder that this was all most likely not a dream. The light weight of the Poké Balls against his waist was a reminder of the three living, breathing creatures who slept inside, who were counting on him to keep them safe so they can grow up and not be the prey of a more dangerous creature, and whom he counted on to keep him safe as well. The Pidgey, the Rattata, the Squirtle--three little companions that needed each other and needed Damian, or so he assumed.

Making his way upstairs, Damian caught the smell of freshly cooked waffles. He entered the kitchen and saw that breakfast was set up like a European continental brunch, and there was Grey, having a conniption of a lifetime; there were indeed many waffles, and the waffles were vegan, and there were strawberries, syrup, blueberries, blackberries, and some other fruit that he didn't recognize. Grey had piled her waffle several inches high with mounds of fruit and sprinkled it with powdered sugar. The effect was almost absurd: Simple things make Grey's day, it seems, thought Damian.

Damian chose to opt out from having waffles and instead had a poached egg and toast with blackberry jam. He found that the food here filled him up faster; Grey had speculated that there probably weren't growth hormones or genetic modification in the produce, which means more food and less chemical contamination. Sipping on his porcelain coffee mug, Damian silently agreed.

"So, should we head west, or head into the forest today?" asked Damian.

Grey looked at her map, then said, "I think there's something to be explored there. The nurse wouldn't tell us to go there if she wasn't really trying to help us. Plus, we should get as many diverse types of Pokémon as we can, because there's bound to be types that get in our way later on and we might not be able to use the ones we've got to get by easily."

"That's a good point, Grey, I agree. Let's brush our teeth and head out soon."

"I'm almost afraid to try their toothpaste," said Grey. "It's called Jest. Not Crest, but nearly identical, and I don't want to know where the name came from."

Damian shrugged and put his plate into the bin for washing, then quickly brushed his teeth. Grateful for the opportunity to use a clean toilet, Damian finished his preparations for the day's adventure, almost afraid of what would happen if he had to use the toilet while on the road, wondering how Grey was expected to pee in the woods.

Ten minutes later, Damian met Grey outside of the Pokémon Center after having stopped to thank the third nurse named Joy that he had met. It was time to head west, into the hills away from town, and see what kind of Pokémon were out there.

----

It only took fifteen minutes to find the rough terrain of Route 22. It seemed that this terrain was teeming with life. Damian saw the rustle of leaves in the trees, the fields of tall grass, and even a pond with rippling water. "Wanna check the pond first?" Damian asked Grey.

"Yeah, I'd love a Squirtle! I hope there are Squirtles in the water," said Grey, and they made their way over to the sandy soil by the pond. They stood in wait for about ten minutes, then finally, Grey said, "I don't know how we're supposed to catch them!"

"Do you think we're supposed to fish?" asked Damian.

Grey looked upset. "I hope not. Hooks are painful and that's kind of cruel," she said. "Almost as cruel as Solidarity lighting that Pidgey on fire."

"At least you've got your Pidgey to push around a Pokémon until it's weak enough to catch," said Damian. "Why don't we try using our Pidgeys to catch some Pokémon? I bet they can fish, and they could pick up whatever they find in their talons, unless it's big like that pink creature that messed up the pool table at Lili's."

"Great idea, Damian," said Grey. "Come on out, Pidgey!" She tossed one of her Poké Balls into the air, and her Pidgey emerged, stretching its wings, calling with a loud, cooing voice, and promptly crashing into a tree branch.

"Your Pidgey's kind of stupid, you're right," said Damian. "I think they're all pretty stupid, though. Come on out, Pidgey!" Damian's Pidgey, however, didn't crash into a tree. It flew through the air gracefully, hovering over the pond in wait of a fish Pokémon.

Grey's Pidgey caught up with Damian's, and together they soared over the pond. Ultimately, Grey's Pidgey was the first to dive into the water, and it emerged a few seconds later with a proper trout in its beak. It landed in front of Grey, who pointed her Pokédex at the fish.

"That's a trout," said the Pokédex. "This is not a Pokémon, but it's edible."

"I'm a vegan!" yelled Grey, and she closed the Pokédex in frustration. They watched her Pidgey eat the trout, and laughed when it tripped over a twig and fell over. "I've got the dumbest Pokémon there is," said Grey bitterly. "It's alright though, I just need to find more, and I've still got Solidarity."

"Your Pidgey'll learn, eventually, I think," said Damian. "I guess I just got lucky. Maybe I should let Squirtle play in the water?"

"Only once we figure out whether anything dangerous lives in this pond, we don't know what kind of Pokémon there are in the water," said Grey, warning Damian. "If it's just a bunch of trout, then I think we'll be fine--oh, look, your Pidgey's diving!"

And with one graceful swoop, Damian's Pidgey dove into the water, but emerged with empty talons. Following the Pidgey's lead, Grey's Pidgey then dove into the water, but this time, it emerged with a Pokémon in its claws.

A large fish, almost too big for the Pidgey to carry, flapped hopelessly in the claws of the Pidgey. It was bright orange and had long whiskers, and Damian could see the scales of its hard skin as the Pidgey approached. Damian and Grey simultaneously pointed their Pokédexes at the Pidgey, and they chimed in unison:

"Magikarp, the Fish Pokémon. It's completely useless. It just splashes around. It's even dumber than the Pidgey that caught it."

"Oh, great," said Grey. "Well, Pidgey, drop the Magikarp and poke it with your beak, and maybe I can catch it." The Pidgey obeyed, and the Magikarp flopped around even more helplessly in the muddy sand. It began to make its way toward the water, using its bounce as a way of gaining distance, and it hit the water. Something pink beneath it let out a loud, grumbling noise, and Grey, having no idea why she was doing what she was doing, threw all four of her empty Poké Balls in the general direction. The Magikarp and the pink creature were absorbed into the two balls; the other two Poké Balls shot through the air and landed in Grey's open palm. In a completely unexpected turn of events, both Poké Balls grew still, and Grey had two new companions for their journey.

Damian cheered for Grey, wondering what he'd be able to catch next. This was beginning to become fun. Grey went to the water's surface and, using a long stick, rolled the Poké Balls towards her feet, trying to keep her flats dry. She picked them up and tossed the Poké Balls back on land, saying "Alright, whatever's in there, come on out!"

The Magikarp emerged, splashed about hopelessly, then bounced into its own Poké Ball. The fish stumbled a bit, then was sucked back into its capsule. The other Pokémon was a beautiful fish with a sharp horn on its forehead and a long, flowing fin; it looked like a smaller version of the Pokémon that they had seen with the short-tempered hipster at the bar last night.

Grey pointed her Pokédex at the fish, and it chimed: "Goldeen, a Fish Pokémon. It's useless on land, but unlike Magikarp, it can be used effectively in battle. It uses its horn to jab at enemies. It is named for being the Queen of the Goldfish. Your Goldeen is male."

"Sweet! I can has Goldeen!" yelled Grey. Damian rolled his eyes at the use of Internet meme-speak, but high-fived Grey nonetheless. "Dude! This is kind of fun. It's like collecting, but we know that eventually we're going to put them back in their natural habitat anyway, right?"

"That's a good justification, but yeah, I agree, this is fun," said Damian. He felt lighthearted and happy, and the warm sun felt nice on his skin. He wondered whether he'd tan this year; already having dark skin, he didn't usually get much of a tan, but sun had helped his acne clear up for the summer. Although Grey was slightly lighter, she didn't have any acne, and the wild look of near mania on her face as she held the two Poké Balls, one in each hand, was kind of endearing.

"Dude, I just saw something blue run through the grass!" yelled Grey, and the pair made their way through the sand towards the tall grass bordering the pond, playing an interesting game of Easter Egg Hunt with the young Pokémon that lived around here. The Pidgeys had found a rather large fish and were having second breakfast, so Damian decided that it was his turn for a try, and called out his Rattata.

"Hey, Rattata, it's your turn!" he yelled, tossing the Poké Ball into the grass and, like a magnet, the ball again returned to the palm of his hand. Rattata appeared in the flash of light and, after a bit of scurrying, it emerged, chasing after something blue that hopped away from the mouse. It screeched at the Rattata, and the awful pitch of its voice made the Rattata retreat.

"Oy, Rattata, use your Quick Attack!" yelled Damian. Rattata charged at the blue creature, which was knocked over by Rattata, tumbled over, and slowly got up. In the meantime, Damian pointed his Pokédex at the little blue rabbit-like Pokémon.

The Pokédex beeped, its screen flashed, and it spoke: "Nidoran. She's a Poison Pokémon, so be careful. Her teeth are sharp, and she can bite off a human's finger if her trainer isn't cautious. Unlike most other Pokémon, she will evolve into a different species from her male counterpart."

"Gender differences? Now we're talking!" said Damian. "I've been curious about that for a while now! Rattata, do that thing where you slap the Nidoran in the face with your tail!"

Rattata obliged, using its Tail Whip technique. The Nidoran growled loudly and raised her claws, scratching at Rattata. However, the Rattata was too quick, and in that moment of distraction, Damian chucked a Poké Ball at the Nidoran, and it was quickly captured. "Oh, we are on a roll today!" he said confidently, high-fiving Grey again. "This is almost painfully easy, what's next?"

As if on cue, a bird Pokémon they had not yet seen emerged from the trees and began to swoop towards Damian and Grey. They ducked out of the way; this bird had a sharp beak and sharp talons, much sharper than Pidgey's, and it was out of reach for Rattata; in a blur of color, the two Pidgeys flew in front of Damian and Grey and directed the wind from their wings at the bird, deflecting its attack. The bird instead flew face-first into the sand, and it lay still, its head buried in dirt.

"Pokémon aren't very smart, are they?" said Grey, shrugging and haphazardly tossing a Poké Ball underhand into the air, the ball colliding with the bird's backside. The Poké Ball wiggled a bit, but burst open, and the Pokémon emerged, furious, although Grey had technically released it from being trapped in the sand.

Damian pointed his Pokédex at the bird, and it spoke again: "Spearow, a Bird Pokémon. It is more aggressive than Pidgey. It relies on its sharp claws and beak as its primary weapons, and learns very quickly. This Spearow is male."

"You know, I don't think there's any rule against this..." said Damian. "I'm going to try something. Let's see what happens. Go, Nidoran, Rattata, Pidgey, and Squirtle!"

The Nidoran and Squirtle appeared together; Rattata ran up from behind Damian, and the Pidgey flew onto his shoulder, eyeing the Spearow, which looked angrily at Damian. Grey laughed, saying "Come on out, Solidarity! Femme! Champagne! And Turd Bird!"

Solidarity the Charmander, Femme the Magikarp, Champagne the Goldeen, and Turd Bird the Pidgey appeared together, but the fish weren't much help. "That wasn't as cool as I expected," said Grey, recalling the Magikarp and Goldeen just in time; the Spearow had charged at them, hunger in its eyes. "Oh, crap, it wants to eat my Pokémon! Let's play more Pokémon capitalism and catch it!" she yelled as Solidarity the Charmander shot flames from her mouth at the Spearow. The bird narrowly avoided Solidarity's flames and began to charge at Damian.

Damian had been laughing at the name 'Turd Bird', and really appreciated Grey in the moment. "Squirtle! Use your Bubble attack!" he yelled, and the Squirtle drew in a deep breath, unleashing a spray of bubbles at the Spearow. They popped on impact, causing the Spearow to become blinded; it nearly crashed into the ground again. "Alright, Nidoran, use that Scratch attack, quick!" Obediently, the Nidoran jumped on the Spearow and clawed at it, and feathers flew in the air; the Nidoran jumped back defensively, growling at the Spearow.

"Turd Bird! Kick up the sand so the Spearow can't see!" yelled Grey, and the Pidgey kicked dirt in the Spearow's general direction. The bird let out a loud squawk, then cried even louder as a flash of light emerged through the cloud of sand. When the sand was clear, Grey stood triumphant, the Spearow now a part of her team.

"Congrats! You got it!" said Damian. "What are you going to call this one?"

"Bush Junior, because the way it was looking at Femme and Champagne, you'd think they were made of oil," said Grey, and they both laughed. It wasn't even 9 a.m., and they had already caught four new Pokémon. Nurse Joy was right--this was the perfect spot for catching Pokémon. "Damian, who knew that capitalism could be so much fun?" Grey added, and they laughed more. This really does feel like a game, thought Damian.

The sound of something shouting interrupted the celebrating, and Damian and Grey turned around, surrounded by their horde of Pokémon which had begun to do whatever they wanted. A boy was running towards them, who looked like he should be in elementary school; he looked angry, which threw them for a loop. "Hey! Hey, you two! You can't gang up on Pokémon like that! The rules are that you can only use one at a time!" He stopped in front of them, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

"Hey, little guy, it's no big deal. We're trying to do what we can so we can get out of here," said Damian. "What's the matter?"

"You're--breaking--rules!" he said, gasping for breath. "You can't use more than one Pokémon to fight another at a time. That's not fair."

"Whose rules are they, exactly?" asked Grey.

"The Pokémon League set official rules for trainers," said the boy. "And now to show you how wrong you are, I'll beat you in a fair battle!"

"Whoa, wait," said Grey. "There's a Pokémon League? Who runs it?"

"The Poké Corporation does, duh!" said the boy. "There are rules so that we don't catch too many Pokémon, it's to protect the endangered species. I learned that in 5th grade last year."

Grey shrugged. "Listen, kid, I don't know whose rules you follow, but we're from a land far away where there aren't any Pokémon, and we didn't even know there were any rules. Besides, who's going to know what goes on out here? Where is Poké Corporation?"

"It's in Saffron City," said the boy. "And I'm not a kid! My name's Charlie, and I'm 11, so I'm not a kid. And since you asked," he said, pointing at Damian's Pokédex, "That's how they know everything that goes on. The Pokédex is also used for making sure you aren't breaking any rules."

Grey looked at Damian, her eyes a bit wider. "They're spying on us? There's surveillance?? What is this, the NSA?!"

Charlie spoke up again. "Yeah, and I bet once they know what you're doing, they'll send the police after you."

"There's police?!" yelled Grey. "I thought we found a world without police brutality!"

"Charlie," said Damian. "I wouldn't worry too much about what we do. We're foreigners, we didn't know better. If I promise you that we'll never, ever do it again, will you leave us alone?"

"Not until I beat you in a Pokémon battle," said Charlie. "I want to battle her. Two on two. I only saw you use your Squirtle in battle against that Spearow."

"Fine, kid, if you want a battle, you've got it," said Grey. "My name is Grey, and I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to beat you."

The two began to stare each other down. Grey was taken aback by the realization that there were police here; Damian was surprised that there were rules in play for what you could do in the wilderness on your own and that there was a corporation powerful enough to dictate laws; and Charlie looked determine to prove that he was right, that his rules were absolute, and he could beat these cheaters at the game of Pokémon battling.

Grey and Damian recalled all of their Pokémon into their balls, and Damian sat on a nearby tree stump. Noticing that there were some small bugs around the stump, Damian allowed his Pidgey to come out of its capsule and snack on the bugs, and the bird hungrily feasted on ants and beetles. Grey and Charlie had made distance between themselves and, finally, Charlie threw a Poké Ball into the air.

"I choose Oddish!" he yelled, and in a flash of pink light, a small, purple beet-like Pokémon appeared, green leaves waving in the light breeze from atop its head. Damian and Grey both pointed their Pokédexes at the Oddish, and once again, they chimed together:

"Oddish, the Weed Pokémon. No, not that kind of weed." (Damian heard Grey say, 'They've got weed here?') "When it gets older, it can paralyze and poison its foes with spores from its leaves. It absorbs energy from other Pokémon, and is a Grass and Poison-type."

Grey thought for a moment, then said, "Alright, kid, you got it. I choose Solidarity!" Her Charmander emerged from the Poké Ball, staring at the Oddish with curiosity. "Solidarity, use your Ember attack!"

"Oddish, use Acid!" yelled Charlie, and both Damian and Grey were surprised that Pokémon here that use Acid, and the plant sprayed a jet of gangrene-colored liquid at Solidarity. Solidarity was hit in the arm by the spray and yelped; in anger, it turned to the Oddish and unleashed flames from its mouth, causing the plant to immediately catch fire. It let out a screech then fell over, severely burned.

"I told you, kid, we're a bit smarter than you, and we know what we're doing," cautioned Grey. "Do you really want to continue?"

Charlie recalled the Oddish, muttering under his breath. "It's okay, because I've got another Pokémon! Alright, it's time to use Caterpie!"

A flash of light, and a small, green caterpillar appeared before him. It wasn't even a foot long, but its eyes shone with the signs of youth. The Pokédexes noticed the presence of a new Pokémon and said, "Caterpie, a Bug-type of Pokémon. Caterpie is young and quickly evolves. They are shy, because they are often prey to Pokémon like Spearow."

Grey told Solidarity to stick its paw into the water nearby in order to soothe the wound, then said, "Kid, you should have known better. Alright, I choose Amnesty!"

"Amnesty? I thought it was Bush Junior," said Damian, and he realized what Grey was doing as soon as the flash of light illuminated the area. Her Spearow appeared and, noticing the Caterpie, immediately dove at it. Charlie wasn't able to call a command before Amnesty picked up the Caterpie in its talons and pecked at its forehead. The little worm squealed, and Charlie had no choice but to recall the Caterpie from Amnesty's claws.

"Damn you!" swore Charlie. "Alright, let me see your Pokédex. Here's 100 Poké Dollars. I'm out of here," he said, and he quickly jogged away in the other direction, swearing loudly about cheaters.

Damian walked up to Grey, his Pidgey on his shoulder. "Good job, Grey, I'm glad you won that battle. But I wonder if there's some truth to what that boy was saying, about the police and all."

"I hope not, I hope he was bluffing," said Grey. "Well, now that we've got the hang of this, let's let our Water Pokémon enjoy some time in the pond. We can see what else we can find in the grass with the others, and Solidarity needs some time to recover from that Oddish. Can you believe it dropped acid?"

Damian, who had been drinking from his water canteen, spat laughing. "Grey, you crack me up every time!" he said. "We shouldn't be too greedy, though. I feel like we might be abusing the system."

Grey swore, telling Damian what she would like to do to the system and exactly what she would do it with. They laughed again, let Squirtle, Femme, and Champagne out to exercise in the water, then began peeling back tall grass, looking for whatever other wild Pokémon they could find.

----

Chapter 10 Recap:
At this time, the teams are starting to grow. Here's a brief summary of the Pokémon owned by Damian and Grey, and their approximate levels. I'm not going to lean too heavily on levels for the story, but this should give an idea of about how old/powerful the Pokémon are.

Damian:
Squirtle (F), Level 9
Pidgey (M), Level 8
Nidoran (F), Level 6
Rattata (M), Level 8

Grey:
Charmander (M), Level 11, "Solidarity"
Pidgey (M), Level 4, "Turd Bird"
Spearow (F), Level 9, "Amnesty" (not Bush Jr.)
Goldeen (M), Level 10, "Champagne"
Magikarp (F), Level 5, "Femme"

[Magmar]

I was halfway through writing Chapter 11, and my computer crashed (I thought MacBooks were supposed to be, like, eternal machines…) and lo and behold, due to the nature of the crash, I lost my chapter! I was so bummed, because I was having great fun with Damian and Grey, and their misadventures with Mankeys and Officer Jenny(s), that I’m not sure I can re-create the same magic in this rendition of the chapter.

Introducing the Poké Corporation was spontaneous and went against my original plan, because my original plan had far more to do with the journey back home and less to do with new, unusual objectives that may arise as a result of the journey.

And so, we begin Chapter 11, and Damian will get his first introduction to the city life of Kanto in Pewter City, as he’ll reach Pewter City on a weekday (without giving away too much).

Chapter 11
No Authority

There is someone who knows everything there is to know,
And there is someone who is too afraid to let it show,
We live by consequences, we never seem to get it right,
Come with their circumstances, and sometimes we may lose the fight…

Damian and Grey had separated for an hour, searching the tall grass for signs of hiding wildlife, wondering what other kinds of Pokémon could live here. Nurse Joy was right; there was a great diversity of Pokémon here, but Damian hadn’t been able to discover any new species. He was intrigued that male and female Nidoran were so different, but decided that having one Nidoran was enough for the time being; he wanted to be sure that, if he had to fight a Grass-type Pokémon like Oddish, he could perhaps have room in his traveling party for a Fire-type like Charmander.

Poison-types, Normal-types, Flying-types, Water-types, Fire-types, Grass-types, Ground-types… there were so many different kinds of Pokémon. Damian wondered how many types there could be. He remembered hearing about other types in passing, but couldn’t recall what they all were. His Pokédex was no help, either; after his Pidgey finished a battle against the fifth or sixth Rattata he had found that morning, he had discovered that the Pokédex wouldn’t reveal data about Pokémon he had not seen. The Pokédex seemed incomplete, like a diary with pages that needed to be filled but couldn’t be written about the correct information, as though the entries were reserved for dates and times that were yet to happen. He did discover that Pokédexes have names, and his was called Ernie; he decided that he would simply refer to it as a Pokédex, because he didn’t call his iPhone Olivia or his laptop Camille.

It was 12:30 in the afternoon when Grey called out to Damian. He emerged from the woods, swatting at thirsty bugs that stubbornly flew at his legs for sustenance. Grey was on the sandy beach, returning Femme, Champagne, and Solidarity to their Poké Balls. Squirtle ran up to Damian and tugged on his leg; she yawned, signaling that she was ready for resting in her capsule. Damian recalled Squirtle, then faced Grey.

“Did you find anything in there?” asked Damian.

Grey grinned. “I found the most interesting Pokémon in the grass and I caught one. She’s a wily little devil, but she’s all tuckered out and sleeping in her Poké Ball. Then I found a Rattata, but realized I was out of Poké Balls and couldn’t catch it.”

“Cool,” said Damian. “What did you catch?”

“She’s absolutely manic, you’ll see later. Her name’s Manatee.”

“Oh, dear,” said Damian, and he imagined in that moment what sort of damage a manic manatee could cause if left to her own devices. “It’s lunch time, wanna go to the Pokémon Center and let these guys rest up and grab a bite?”

Grey nodded. “Yeah, we might as well, it’s what, ten minutes away? Then maybe we should make our way toward the forest. Although it’s really quiet here and I don’t want to leave…”

Damian agreed, but felt that it was probably for the best if they eat for free rather than consume their food rations when they don’t really need to. “I kind of want to head toward the forest, too,” said Damian. “After the forest, there’s one more city, then Mt. Moon. I guess it’s not such a long journey after all.”

----

Lunch at the Pokémon Center was buffet-style, much like breakfast, and Damian and Grey were the only people at the lunch; the food options were fewer than those at breakfast, consisting primarily of rice, vegetables, and chicken in a sweet sauce. Grey was happiest knowing that she could eat just about everything there; Damian was grateful just for lunch.

“So I’m kind of surprised about something,” said Damian, halfway finished with his meal. “Even though we have a half hour while our Pokémon get rest, I would’ve thought, and this could be really presumptuous or even classist on my part, that there would be poorer people eating here just for the free food.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” said Grey. “No, I don’t think you’re being classist, but I haven’t really noticed variance in socioeconomic class here. Nobody seems to be very rich and nobody seems to be living in the streets. This is the first time in a long time nobody has asked me for spare change since I moved to New York City.”

“Do you think it’s Poké Corporation?” asked Damian. “I wonder if unemployment is nonexistent. Poké could hire most people, and with training Pokémon, I bet that some people are professionals, like we have athletes back at home.”

“I hope people find good work,” said Grey. “You know, doing what they want and not just becoming nurses because their name happens to be Joy.”

Damian nodded, his mouth full of chicken. They ate in silence for a few minutes and, their plates clear, Damian found takeaway containers and filled two up with dinner for the evening. “I think we should stop at the store and see about buying some more Poké Balls. If we meet something that’s too powerful, we might be able to just catch it and clear the road. I’m actually a bit nervous about going into the forest, and we’ll have to go through a cave, too, and climb a mountain.”

“I kind of miss having a bike,” said Grey, putting the takeaway containers in her backpack. “Okay, let’s go see about getting some shopping done before heading north.”

Damian and Grey gathered their Pokémon and, thanking Nurse Joy (the same Nurse Joy they’d met last night), stepped outside. “Where’s the store?” asked Damian.

“It’s right in front of us,” said Grey, and Damian noticed that if he had been really paying close attention, it was impossible to miss the store. There were neon signs in the windows advertising a sale on Poké Balls (Buy two Poké® Balls™, get one free!) and poison antidotes (Kakuna in your cauliflower? We’ve got you covered!), new product announcements (try Poké® Super Repellant™, guaranteed to keep away mosquitos and Metapods for up to one (1) hour or your money back!), and a product recall notice for faulty Poké® Burn-Away™ (Scarred by Charmander? Please exchange all Burn-Away™ manufactured between 31 March and 20 April to a certified PokéMart™ and mail receipt to Poké Corporation®, 1 Industrial Park Drive, Saffron City for a full refund and a voucher for six (6) free Poké® Balls™ courtesy of your friends at Poké Corporation®). Damian and Grey entered the store, which had several aisles of diverse Pokémon food, antidotes for all kinds of poisons, cures for various ailments, and even replacement batteries for a Pokédex™.

“Do you think we should have all of this stuff just in case?” asked Grey. “Burn-Away tee-em, Paralysis Relief trademark, Pokédex batteries registered trademark of Poké Corporation…”

Damian laughed at Grey’s sarcasm. “I think we should just get what we came here for, because I’ve got loads of antidotes and such from Professor Oak back in Pallet Town, and if something comes up, Pewter City’s not too far away.”

“I agree, but still, I’m surprised at how corporate this store is! I don’t even see cheaper, alternative products, or anything made by a small business besides some of the local foods. Talk about a monopoly! I bet these prices could be cheaper, too…”

“Yeah, Grey, I’m with you on that,” said Damian. “Two hundred Poké Dollars tee-em for just one Poké Ball, but at least the net price is a bit cheaper with the sale that’s going on.”

Damian and Grey grabbed twelve Poké Balls each and approached the service counter, noticing that there were various types of blowing gum and candy bars with names like “Slowpoke Gum™, Voted #1 Chewing Gum by Readers in 2013 February PokéMag™” and “Jynx Bar™, Chocolate on the Outside, Cherry on the Inside, by Poké Corporation®”. Grey scanned her Pokédex tee-em for 1,600 Poké Dollars, and Damian approached the cashier.

Luke, the cashier, was a short, freckly, bearded man with a nose ring and a Mohawk, and his red apron sported a beat-up nametag that said “Three Years of Service at PokéMart™”. He scanned the barcode on each case of Poké Balls, then charged Damian the same amount as Grey. Damian scanned Ernie the Pokédex, but stopped before taking his bag of purchases from the counter.

“Hey, Luke, right?” said Damian, and the cashier nodded. “I’ve got a question. Are there any other stores in Viridian City where I can get stuff like this? I’m just curious, first time here.”

Luke shrugged. “There’s no other stores that carry the Poké brand, and they’re the only ones that make the real stuff,” he said. “Where are you folks from? There’s no competition for Poké, they drove out the other pharmacies and shops when they built here, although they jacked up their prices once there wasn’t any more competitors.”

“We’re from another city,” said Grey, pushing her way to the counter and forcing Damian to tiptoe on his boots to see Luke over a stack of Frosty Breeze Frostbite Cure™ by Poké Corporation®. “Actually, stuff’s loads cheaper where we come from. Did you say that the Poké Corporation forced the competition out?”

Luke sighed and rolled up his sleeves, revealing heavy tattoos and enormous forearms. “Yeah, and they even bought this spot and tore down the pub that used to be here, the only one in town with a stage big enough where my band could perform. I really hate Poké, but they’ve won, what’s a guy like me gonna do with no Pokémon? Had to sell my strongest Pokémon to afford my rent in March, Poké controls all the electricity and drove up the electric cost once the other power plant in the northeast got bought out. Heat’s not cheap, you know.”

“Did they take your other Pokémon, too?” asked Damian. “That’s so unfair, man!”

“Nah, but I don’t have the time to take care of ‘em anymore, and can’t really afford it to be honest. Pokémon Centers are great, but they aren’t charity cases for the poor. I had to give ‘em all away, gave my Oddish to a kid a few weeks ago. Always wanted to be a Pokémon Master since I was a kid, but couldn’t afford to travel with my mom sick and my dad running a gym halfway across the land,” said Luke. “You guys trainers? You might meet him.”

“Oh, if your dad left you and your mom alone with no money, I’d love to meet him,” said Grey angrily. “What’s his name? I’ll pay extra close attention for his gym.”

“Surge,” said Luke. “You haven’t heard of him? He’s full of himself and always talking about the glory of war, but can’t take care of us. I’m Luke Surge, but he might not even remember he’s got a kid.”

“You’ve got war?!” yelled Grey. “When was it? What happened?”

“I wasn’t even born yet the last time there was a war,” said Luke. “People used Pokémon to fight their wars for them, but the Pokémon didn’t want to fight after a while, and people had to fight using only themselves as weapons. Without Pokémon, people turned to knives, but the war didn’t last long after that—when you’re up close and personal with someone you’re about to kill, it’s much harder to do it, I reckon. Oh, no, it’s so much easier to send your Pokémon to fight for you, but once they realized what’s going on, they wouldn’t do it anymore. We gained nothing from the war, but it helped Poké Corporation rise to power, and slowly they took over.”

Damian’s body had tensed up as he thought of people using Rattata and Pidgey to fight to the death. “You mean to tell me,” said Damian, anger in his voice. “You mean… Poké Corporation capitalized on the carnage of war, and people like your own dad, who fought in a war, were too beat down from war to stick up for what’s best for the world? Did you learn nothing from the war?!”

“Dude, you talk like you haven’t heard of the war,” said Luke. “Everyone knows what happened. People began to get too good at using Pokémon to achieve their means, and soon battling wasn’t enough. People wanted more than just Pokémon battles; they wanted to dominate each other. Their solution was to teach kids when they’re young about how to raise Pokémon, to have little kids go out into the world before they got hungry for power and to learn to coexist with Pokémon. It wasn’t all bad, you know, but some folks, like me, just didn’t want to only use Pokémon our whole lives once I got tired of the battling lifestyle. I wanted to make music, but even that’s become impossible.”

A long silence followed that comment, but Grey spoke first. “I hope you haven’t given up hope,” said Grey.

Luke smiled weakly and rubbed his flat nose. He stood up from his stool; he was shorter than Grey, but built like a brick. He opened the door behind the register counter, and Damian and Grey followed him inside. There were subwoofers, free weights with a bench, a nearly empty bar, and a full set of drums. “After all this time,” said Damian. “You’ve clung to your dream.”

“I won’t give up, dudes,” said Luke. “They can have my money and my Pokémon, but they can’t take my dream. I told you, it’s not all bad.” On the bar sat one picture in a small frame that showed Luke and several friends, some holding guitars and others, including Luke, holding beers that, to their surprise, had the Poké Corporation logo on them.

“So you live here?” asked Grey, picking up a broken drumstick and tapping a cymbal with it.

“Upstairs,” said Luke. “My mom’s deaf, so the noise doesn’t bother her, but she can feel my drums through the floor, our ceiling. She says I pay beautifully.”

“You are beautiful,” said Grey. “Don’t forget that.”

“And if we’re ever in this town again, and if we’ve got the money, I’m sure we can get you a place to jam again,” said Damian. “We’ll find a doctor, too, for your mom.”

Luke’s eyes grew pink and watery. “I appreciate it, dudes,” he said, wiping his face on his forearm. “Hey, you gonna be in town tonight? I’m thinking of hitting up Lili’s for a beer or two, and if you need a place to stay, I’ve got a futon upstairs.” He put his hand on Damian’s shoulder and grinned through his beard. “I’m single, too, you know, if you guys are, well, interested.”

Damian looked at Grey, who looked surprised at the comment, and Grey responded, “Hey, you’re cute, I really mean it, but we’ve got a very specific mission and we’ve got to go.”

“Oh,” said Luke, looking a bit crestfallen. “Well, I’m sure you’ve got your own dreams to chase after and all, so I’ll be seeing you.”

“It’s not like that,” said Grey firmly. “We’re prisoners, yet we’re free. We’re trapped in your world, your pitiful corporate nation, and we’ve got to try to get home. But if we find the way back, we’ll remember you, and maybe you can start a new life with us back in our world. It’s a lot like yours, but there’s doctors and there are places that can treat your mom.”

“Really?” asked Luke. “You’d really do that for me?”

“It’s a promise,” said Damian, putting his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I promise we’ll come back for you, Luke Surge, and you are a brave man.” Damian leaned closer to Luke and kissed him on the mouth. Luke returned the kiss and, for a moment, they were wrapped in a fierce embrace. The bristles of Luke’s beard tickled Damian’s face, and Luke’s nose ring poked at his own nose. Damian quickly pulled away, realizing he was getting caught in the moment. “Sorry, Luke, we’ve got to go…”

Grey approached Luke and gave him a tight hug then, looking into his eyes, kissed him deeply as well. Damian thought for a moment that it was probably the strangest thing he’d ever done, meet a stranger while traveling with a friend he’d only known for a day and begun to share a man between them. They pulled apart, and Grey said, “Have you still got a Pokédex? We can exchange contact information that way. There’s a way to send email through the Pokédex, right?”

Luke reached into the back pocket of his jean shorts and pulled out a worn-out Pokédex. “All you’ve got to do is tap them together, and we’ll be connections. We can send emails when you’re in a city, as long as you can tap into the Poké Network. You’ll need to be near a Pokémon Center or in a house that’s got access.”

Together, the three of them tapped Pokédexes together, and on Damian’s screen, Luke’s face appeared. The picture was of a younger Luke, with no beard or piercings, and his nose was fuller. Very little information appeared; according to the brief profile, Damian learned that Luke’s birthday was 22 August, was 24 years old, and had six badges. Unsure of what the badges meant, he hugged Luke one more time and, leaving the room, grabbed his and Grey’s purchases off the countertop and stepped outside into the hot spring afternoon. Grey stepped out behind him and said, “Should we go to the forest?”

“Yeah,” said Damian. “I think we should. Let’s be honest, though, and I know we’ve got a lot to talk about, but really, how hot was that guy?”

“Gorgeous,” said Grey. “What a story, though! There’s war here, and a monopoly, and poverty that’s covered up so well that you can’t even tell on the city streets! I want to go to Saffron City.”

Damian looked directly into Grey’s eyes and saw the resolute anger behind them. It was his anger now, too, and he also wanted to find out more about this Poké Corporation that had destroyed the world of Luke Surge.

“We’re going to have to get stronger, aren’t we,” said Grey. “If we’re going to take down the Poké Corporation, that is. And for the record, I’m totally cool with however you identify, in terms of liking guys and girls and all that.”

“I’m pansexual,” said Damian.

“I’m Grey-sexual,” said Grey. “I do what I want! But don’t worry, Damian, it won’t get awkward between us. We’ve got a mission. We’re going to take down the Poké Corporation.”

As they made their way up the paved road towards the north exit to the Viridian Forest, it struck Damian just how serious their new mission had become. It wasn’t going to be easy to convince Grey to leave once they found their way home in Mt. Moon, but now Damian really wanted to stay, too, and figure out a way to bring people like Luke and Zoe the future they deserve.

[Magmar]

*puts the é back on copy-paste*

The Poké plot was totally spontaneous. I’ve realized I’m getting a bit ahead of myself with the story, and I’m not covering all the bases—and contradicting myself here and there. I gave Grey’s Pokémon two different names, which won’t work, and Charlie the Bug Trainer conveniently didn’t notice that Damian was breaking rules by using both Squirtle and Nidoran to take down a Spearow. Whoops! Gotta be more careful.

And now, justice for all! Into the woods we go.

Chapter 12
Hearts of Oak

And I saw for all of us, she spoke:
“Won’t you stand up for the hearts of oak?”

The forest was filled with winding roads and teeming with wildlife, but Pokémon were difficult to come by. Other than the occasional passing Pidgey, there were mostly squirrels and mosquitoes to be found here, and the challenge of traversing the forest without using Poké Super Repellant™ was great, for the mosquitoes were hungry.

“Dude, do Pokémon even live here?” asked Grey, swatting at an exceptionally pesky mosquito. “There’s got to be some reason Pokémon Trainers don’t just, you know, walk around this forest. Something’s gotta live here.”

“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” said Damian. “Maybe there’s another way to keep the bugs at bay without using that foul repellant.”

Grey sat down on a tree stump, thinking, and Damian sat on the path, crossing his legs and enjoying the break. It was now close to 5 p.m., and they were getting hungry. “I mean, they’re bugs, right?” said Grey. “Maybe we can use our bird Pokémon, and they’ll just eat the bugs. Or maybe, they can… that’s it!” Grey stood up, then selected two Poké Balls that hung from her studded pleather belt. “Come on out, Amnesty, Turd Bird!”

The flash of light was no longer peculiar or unusual, but the glorious appearance of the keen Spearow and the clumsy Pidgey was always surprising; Amnesty soared overhead in a circle, and with a loud thunk, Turd Bird once again collided with a tree.

“Alright, Turd Bird, Amnesty! Use your wings to create a blast of wind that will keep the bugs out of the way!” yelled Grey. “And Turd Bird, I love you, but try to look where you’re going.”

The Pokémon squawked as if to say, “Got it!”, and began to flap their wings together with vigor and determination. A large blast of wind soared past Damian and Grey, and they were sure they noticed a spray of black dots veer off the beaten path in either direction.

“That’s brilliant! Grey, you’re so clever,” said Damian. “I think my Pidgey could probably help. Come on out, Pidgey!”

Damian’s Pidgey joined Turd Bird and Amnesty, hovering overhead and, every few minutes, blasting away a swarm of mosquitoes. After resting their legs, they stood up and began heading back down the path.

“Do you think the Nurse Joys are really cloned?” asked Damian. “I’m pretty sure of it, but it just seems like such advanced technology considering they haven’t got cell phones here.”

“I bet they are. There’s no reason their personalities should all be the same,” replied Grey, jumping over a protruding root in the worn-out dirt path. “Cloning just feels kind of wrong, but it’s cool nonetheless…”

Damian turned to Grey. “I don’t think it’s the right thing to do, either, but maybe they needed more nurses after the war. I wonder how many people died? How long the war wa—OW!”

He had collided with something hard, and a bit slimy, and very, very green. Dangling from a string that was stuck to a high tree branch, something large, immobile, and heavy swung from the force of the impact. Damian and Grey watched curiously as the object swung round and round, slowly coming to a stop.

“What the hell is that thing?” asked Grey, pointing her Pokédex at it. Damian did the same:

“Metapod. This is a cocoon Pokémon. The Pokémon inside is sleeping, getting ready to evolve. It usually takes only three days to evolve.”

“Pokémon evolution again,” said Damian thoughtfully. “Well, I’m curious. What do you think? We should try to catch it and see what happens.”

“I don’t see why not,” said Grey. “I bet we’ll be here for at least another three days, which sucks because my birthday’s Tuesday and I really, really wanted to be home, but I want to see what this evolution is all about.”

Damian reached into his backpack and pulled out a fresh Poké Ball. “Alright, I kind of want to check this out. Go, Poké Ball!” The Poké Ball ricocheted off the hard skin of the Metapod, but despite the distance between them, the Poké Ball opened, and the beam of red light absorbed Metapod, capturing its spirit and body within. It appeared that the Metapod was unable to resist, because the Poké Ball grew still almost immediately.

“Well, now we’ve both got a useless Pokémon,” said Grey. “Hooray for us!”

Damian envisioned an excited eleven-year-old jumping up and down with jubilation over capturing a Metapod and laughed out loud. “I wonder what’s inside the cocoon,” he said. “I wonder whether the cocoon used to be a larva, like a caterpillar.”

“Hmm, caterpillar, Pokémon, caterpillar,” said Grey, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “I think Caterpie might be the obvious answer, according to Captain Obvious here.” Grey tapped her Pokédex into her other hand. “I noticed that Caterpie and Metapod are listed right next to one another in the Pokédex, and they can both be found in this forest. I just put two and two together.”

“Well, I guess Pokémon evolution isn’t too different from what we call metamorphosis, then,” said Damian. “I wonder if other Bug-types do the same thing. We should see what else lives in here.”


And so Damian and Grey pressed on through the dark woods, curious about what else was hiding in the thickets of brush and towering trees. They walked on for about half an hour, speculating further about what would happen to the Metapod once its three days had passed, when they saw a man about their age resting beneath a willow tree. If it were not for his brightly colored sneakers, they may have missed him; as they approached, they noticed he was studying a yellow Poké Ball closely. They had only seen red Poké Balls, so this piqued their interest.

“Hey there,” said Grey as they approached the man. “Do you know how much further we’ve got to go until we get out of here?”

The man looked up at Grey, then turned to Damian. His stubble suggested he had not shaved in several days, for his beard covered his neck. His white tank top was scuffed, his cargo shorts torn, his sneakers bright but dirty.

His voice was raspy; he croaked as he spoke. “You’ve got about a full day’s journey ahead of you, and the sun should be down soon,” he said. “My name’s Chris, and I live in the forest about a mile from here. You folks look tired, need a place to stay?”

“Thanks, but we’ve got a tent,” said Damian. “I was hoping to camp tonight.”

“You’ll be lucky if you find a patch thin enough to pitch a tent,” said Chris. “You’ll be eaten alive by the mosquitos if you sleep out here.”

“That’s awfully forward of you,” said Grey. “How can we know if we can trust you?”

“Are you doubting me, girl?” growled Chris. “You should show your elders some manners.”

“Excuse me?” said Damian, his temples constricting as his anger began to boil from within. He did not like being disrespected. “We appreciate your offer, sir, but I think we can find our own way out of the woods, thanks.”

“I don’t like your attitude, boy,” sneered Chris. “You’re lucky I don’t get up and take care of you lot, heh heh, it wouldn’t take me long at all…”

“Damian, this guy’s creepy,” Grey spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “We should get out of here.”

Damian didn’t break his eye contact with Chris. He was torn between walking away and taking care of Chris, whether with Pokémon or with his own fists—but Damian wasn’t prone to violence. The fear that this man would follow them if they tried to escape was pulsing in his head; he knew that this was a case of fight or flight, and flight was unlikely, as Grey didn’t have running shoes and wasn’t a runner.

Damian took a deep breath, his heart beating harshly between his lungs and ribs, then spoke. “I challenge you,” he said. “I challenge you to a Pokémon battle.”

“What!” yelled Grey. “You can’t be serious, we don’t know what this guy can do!”

“No, no, this is what we’ve got to do,” said Damian. “Chris here needs to be taught manners, you see, and you took care of the last battle against the kid when we were by the beach. I’m going to win, and then we’re going to ask him some questions.”

“Boy, you’ve got yourself a deal,” said Chris. “I’ll fight you, three on three, and if I win, I’ll be taking that backpack and your Pokémon. If you win, you can ask me whatever you want, but I might not answer.”

Damian still hadn’t broken eye contact. If there was one thing that set off his anger, it was disrespect—and Chris needed to be taught a lesson or two about respecting others.

Chris stood up; he was very tall, but wiry and vascular. His fingers were grubby, and his odor reminded Damian of someone who smoked too much. Chris walked down the path then turned, facing Damian and Grey. “Three on three,” croaked Chris. “We’ll see what you can do, boy.”

Damian turned around to face Grey, then recalled his Pidgey into its Poké Ball. “Hey,” he whispered. “If it looks grim, could I borrow your Charmander? He could be a big help.”

“I’ve got your back,” said Grey. “If all else fails, I’ll have my Magikarp sit on him.”

Damian nodded. He faced Chris, who had selected two red Poké Balls and the golden Poké Ball, putting the other three in his baggy shorts pocket. “Alright, kid, let’s see what you can do. I’ll start with… Ekans.”

One of the red Poké Balls exploded in a flash of pink light, and a long, purple snake uncoiled out of the glow. Damian opened his Pokédex and pointed it at the snake called Ekans.

“Ekans, a snake Pokémon,” said the Pokédex. “It is a Poison-type. It can wrap itself around its prey and constrict it, crushing the prey before feeding.”

“Oh, crap, this sounds dangerous,” said Damian. “Grey… you’re good at this, what do you think I should do?”

“I don’t know man,” said Grey. “That Ekans sounds dangerous!”

“Well, if it’s a Poison-type, I’ve got an idea,” said Damian. “I don’t think it can poison other Poison-types, so I’ll use Nidoran!”

His Poké Ball expanded in his hand, and he threw it towards the Ekans. Nidoran’s form appeared in a flash of light; she looked at the Ekans with curiosity, but did not seem afraid.

“Alright, let’s go!” yelled Chris; his voice croaked more harshly as it became louder. “Ekans, frighten it off with your Leer!”

The Ekans stared at Nidoran, its eyes pouring into hers; Nidoran looked startled but resolute. “Nidoran, snap out of it and use your Fury Swipes!” yelled Damian. Nidoran broke the gaze from Ekans, and attacked the snake with furious swipes from her claws. The Ekans hissed in anger and pain as Nidoran slashed at its skin, and in one quick motion, the Ekans had charged face-first into the Nidoran, its teeth sunk into her left paw. Nidoran yelped out in pain, then raised her right claw high; she swung her claw down, slashing into the neck of the Ekans.

Ekans had begun to bleed from the neck wound. It detached its fangs from Nidoran and raised its head high into the air, hissing loudly before collapsing backward, writhing on the dirt path.

“Ekans, come back!” yelled Chris, and the snake was immediately recalled into its Poké Ball. Nidoran limped back toward Damian and held out her paw, Damian picked up Nidoran, then turned to Grey.

Grey looked pale-faced. “That was so violent,” she said, horrified. “Quick, let’s get one of those vials of potion out of your bag, maybe we can help Nidoran heal.”

Damian put Nidoran down and plunged into his backpack for his first aid kit. He found the kit and opened it, finding a vial labeled “Poké Healing Potion™--Fixes Minor Wounds” and uncorked it, pouring the potion onto Nidoran’s paw. The effect was instant; the wound closed, and Nidoran looked relieved, as though she was no longer in pain.

“That was amazing!” said Damian. “Alright, Nidoran, you’ve earned some rest. Come back in your Poké Ball.”

Chris held the other red Poké Ball in his hand; he looked furious. “If you killed my Ekans, I’ll kill you!” he yelled.

Damian felt a twinge of pity from deep within his stomach. “I’ve got potions that can fix it up if you need one!” he yelled back.

“I’ve got my own, boy, now shut up and fight!” yelled Chris. “Come on out, Sandshrew!” The surrounding forest turned a rosy shade of pink as the Sandshrew emerged from its Poké Ball; somehow, this Sandshrew looked older than Crank the Sandshrew, but Damian knew that his Squirtle was older now, too, and there was no question of who to use in this battle.

Squirtle appeared from her Poké Ball, as if she knew she was being called, despite Damian not verbally summoning her. She eyed the Sandshrew carefully, recognizing that it was quite strong, stronger than any foes she’d faced before.

“Sandshrew, this is going to be a cinch!” yelled Chris. “Dig underground!”

The Sandshrew made a chirruping noise as it made its way over to the grass by the path. The softer earth worked to its advantage; the Sandshrew quickly dug a hole into the earth, disappearing from sight.

Squirtle looked around, confused, and began to walk around. She wasn’t sure how to handle this situation; the Sandshrew had vanished, and Squirtle had no way of knowing where it had gone. Cracks began to appear beneath her feet; the Squirtle yelped and vanished into her shell as the Sandshrew emerged from the ground as though surfacing after a deep dive, grabbing Squirtle’s shell within its hands. For a moment, the Sandshrew stood on top of the shell as though surfing, then focused its weight on the gravity pulling the shell back down to the surface. There was a loud thunk, and the impact had left its mark. Squirtle emerged from her shell, trembling, and the Sandshrew swung its sharp claws across her face. Squirtle screamed in pain; Damian yelled, too.

“Squirtle!” he yelled. He watched as Grey went into his backpack; She must be looking for a healing potion, he thought. He raised Squirtle’s red Poké Ball into the air, ready to recall her. The Sandshrew raised its claws, but this time, Squirtle was prepared; she drew in a deep breath and, rather than a stream of bubbles, Squirtle released a powerful jet of water that caught the Sandshrew full in the face. The Sandshrew was thrown through the air by the jet, colliding with a tree; the Sandshrew slid down the tree, its face forward, unconscious.

Damian rushed forward, picking up his Squirtle and carrying her back to his bag. He easily found a healing potion and poured it on her face; Squirtle looked tired, but grateful, and fell asleep in his arms.

“You’ve earned your rest, too, Squirtle, come on back in your Poké Ball,” said Damian, and he recalled Squirtle. Chris recalled the Sandshrew, swearing loudly and kicking a nearby tree; the sound of shoe on bark was louder than expected; Damian was surprised by Chris’s strength.

“Boy, you’re in serious trouble,” growled Chris. “I’d like to see what you do about this. Come out, Metapod!”

Damian was surprised to see that Chris had selected Metapod, since Metapod couldn’t battle. However, this was no time to ask questions, and he decided to give his Nidoran another opportunity to use her quick claws. “Come on back out, Nidoran!” he yelled, and Nidoran appeared, facing the Metapod with a look of confusion on its face, as if to say, I can’t believe you’re making me do this.

“Nidoran, use Fury Swipes!” yelled Damian. Nidoran obeyed, charging the Metapod and tackling it to the ground. The Metapod did not fight back, but stared resolutely as Nidoran slashed and clawed at its skin, but was not making any headway on damage.

“You can’t beat my Metapod,” said Chris. “Its skin is hard as steel. You’ll never penetrate it with your weak little Pokémon.”

Nidoran’s scratches became weaker; her arms moved more slowly, and with an air of regret, Nidoran backed off the Metapod, returning to Damian.

“Damn it, I guess this just won’t work,” said Damian. “Alright, Nidoran, return.”

Damian weighed his options for this battle. He had a Pidgey, but Pidgey wouldn’t be able to crack the shell; Squirtle and Nidoran were exhausted; his own Metapod would probably be useless as well; and Rattata wasn’t much better than Pidgey, just quicker.

He turned to Grey and was surprised to see her appear out of the nearby shrubbery, leaves tangled in her pink hair and clutching a Poké Ball. “Damian, you know what to do. Use this,” she said. “I promise this will work, the Pokédex said so.”

Damian accepted her Poké Ball. He turned to Chris, who stood with his arms folded, a smug look on his face. “You won’t win,” said Chris. “And you can’t use her Pokémon in this battle—trading during a battle is against the official rules!”

“It’s his Pokémon, not mine!” yelled Grey. “It’s from a Poké Ball registered in his name, and you can’t tell him he can’t use it!”

“Grey, what are you talking about?” asked Damian, a sense of urgency building in his voice. “I’ve only got five Pokémon!”

“You’ve got six now,” said Grey. “I saw a new Pokémon but couldn’t carry it because I’ve already got six, so I caught it for you. Go ahead—use this Pokémon. I promise you that you’ll win.”

Damian wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but he did know that he trusted Grey not to sell him out, especially with their mutual safety at risk with this fight. “Grey, I’ll try it,” said Damian. “Alright, Poké Ball, I choose… this Pokémon!”

Nothing familiar emerged from the Poké Ball. What did appear was a small, worm-like Pokémon with a sharp horn on her head. Damian opened his Pokédex and pointed it at the little worm, which looked no bigger than Caterpie.

“Weedle, a Bug-type Pokémon,” said the Pokédex. “It is venomous. Its venom is concentrated in the horn on its forehead. It evolves into Kakuna. Its attacks are Poison Sting and String Shot.”

“Well, Weedle, let’s see what you can do!” yelled Damian. “Use your Poison Sting on the Metapod!”

The Weedle obeyed him, and charged the Metapod with her poisonous stinger facing forward. The Weedle jabbed at the Metapod repeatedly and finally punctured its tough skin; her stinger pierced beneath one of the folds of the Metapod’s hard shell, and the eyes of the Metapod, although it lay still, began to gloss over.

“You poisoned my Metapod?!” yelled Chris. “How dare you! Alright, Metapod, return!”

Damian and Grey let out cheers, high-fiving each other. The Weedle stared at Damian, curious about her new master. “Good job, Weedle,” said Damian. “Welcome to the team. How’s about you rest in your Poké Ball for a bit?”

The Weedle obeyed the pink light, returning to her capsule. Damian and Grey then faced Chris, standing back-to-back, arms folded. “Alright, Chris, we’ve got some questions for you, and you better be ready to answer,” said Grey.

“We’re not messing around,” said Damian. “You’re going to answer our questions.”

“We don’t take kindly to bullies,” said Grey.

“And we don’t take kindly to disrespect,” added Damian.

“I feel so cool right now,” whispered Grey to Damian.

Damian nodded. “Let’s get to the bottom of this, Grey. Chris!” he yelled, raising his voice to address Chris, who was still spitting and swearing. “Take us somewhere that we can talk, and don’t try any funny business. We’ve got ten more Pokémon than you’ve got, and we aren’t afraid to use them."

[Magmar]

Let's all be spies!

Chapter 13
Package Thief

All the kids around are scared,
They keep their distance…

The walk to Chris’s cabin was brief, and the path, although clearly carved through the brush, was grown over. Deep into the forest wandered Damian, Grey, and Chris, and when they finally caught sight of the wooden house, the sun was setting. The windows were lit, and there was movement from within the house.

Chris approached the door, then turned to Damian and Grey and said, “Alright, listen. I don’t know what you’re expecting to find in here, but you’ve got to promise me that you’ll touch nothing and harm no one inside. I promise you they’ll return the same respect.”

“That’s fair,” said Grey. “Lead the way, Chris.”

Chris opened the door and stepped inside; Damian and Grey followed after him. There was an adult-sized, pink bicycle resting against the wall; a smaller, aquamarine bicycle rested behind it. The house smelled of fresh pine and savory seasoning. Potpourri sat in a jar atop a wooden dresser, and the floors were scrubbed and polished.

A high-pitched cry broke the silence, and Chris’s waist was wrapped with small arms, green nail polish on the stubby fingers. A tuft of golden hair was visible at Chris’s side.

“I missed you, Daddy!” said the high-pitched voice, and the face a young girl appeared at Chris’s waist level. She looked about nine years old.

“Grey, Damian, this is my daughter Angela,” said Chris. “She’ll be ten this fall.”

“I’m in fourth grade!” said Angela. “Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you,” said Damian, shaking the small hand. “I’m sorry, Chris, I didn’t realize we’d be intruding on your family.”

“My partner, Sharon, is making dinner,” said Chris, and a tall woman with long, golden hair turned around and waved to them. “Last night was my dinner shift, but Sharon’s much better at cooking. I do all the cleaning around here, because Sharon works in Pewter City managing the Poké Post.”

Damian shut the door behind them as Grey took off her flats. He began to unstrap the laces on his boots. “You do have a beautiful place, Chris,” said Damian. “I have to ask: If your wife works and you’ve got a daughter, why do you lurk in the forest and give travellers grief?”

“You two ask good questions,” said Chris. “There are vandals, thieves, punks who pass through the forest, and they need a warning not to mess with those who reside here. It’s frowned upon, you see, to live apart from officially designated villages, although when Sharon’s parents built this house, it wasn’t an issue. That was… before the war.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with living in a more rural place, is there?” asked Grey. “There’s more room to grow your own vegetables and you can really see the stars.”

Chris folded his arms; Angela still hadn’t let go of his waist. “It’s hard, you know, for a parent to live out here. If you’re single or just have a partner, it’s no big deal because Poké doesn’t want to recruit adults anymore. Poké wants the kids, they want us to put kids like Angela in their schools so they can learn to obey the rules of the Poké Corporation.”

“Is there something wrong with the schools? What rules?” asked Damian.

“Take a seat,” said Chris, and the four sat on the two linen sofas by a fireplace. The fireplace was not lit; the weather was too warm for heat. “Alright, I don’t know how you two managed to get this far in Kanto without knowing the law, but if you don’t know, then you don’t know. Angela, did you do your homework?”

“I did, Daddy!” said Angela. “I did the math and the science, but I haven’t started Pokémon homework yet, but Mommy said it’s not due until Wednesday. So can I go play with Giddy, please?”

“Alright, Angie, but I’ll be checking your homework tomorrow,” said Chris. “Go ahead and play with Pidgey, make sure she gets plenty of bugs to eat, and wash your hands before dinner.”

“Yay!” exclaimed Angela, and she jumped off the sofa and ran to the dresser, opening a drawer and taking out a small red Poké Ball. She went outside, carefully closing the screen door behind her, and her footsteps trailed off; Grey noticed a small bob of blonde hair from beneath the window by the fireplace and saw a flash of pink light.

“I homeschool her,” said Chris. “I stay home with Angela and teach her, and on weekends I check the forest for Pokémon that could help protect us. Sharon uses an address in Pewter City, so Poké thinks we live there, and it only takes a few minutes from here on bicycle to get to the city. She’s amazing, Sharon is.

“Now, you were asking what happens in the schools here, which is curious because surely you two went to an elementary school here? Well, after finishing the fifth grade, some kids—most, really, who are able—go off to train Pokémon. Some kids continue on with school, learning about business and law and more advanced topics. But that’s frowned upon, see. Most families have been tricked into believing that it’s better for kids to have adventure while they’re young than it is for them to learn more, and eventually question, the rules of Poké Corporation.”

Grey said, “So why wouldn’t you want Angela to go to school? Isn’t school better than living in the woods?”

Chris lowered his head, his fists clenching his shorts. “If I let Angie go to school, she wouldn’t just learn about math and how to read. She’d learn that there is no other way of living than following the Poké way—battling Pokémon until you’re an adult, then either finding a job working for Poké or establishing a career as a leader of the Pokémon battling lifestyle. Gym leaders, they’re called, and they’re some of the best trainers there are. We’ve got a semi-annual tournament called the Pokémon League, and if you’re rich enough or good enough to get a sponsor, you can compete for prizes and fame and glory. I want Angie to want glory, and fame, and money, but only if that’s what she really wants. Pokémon Academies stress that glory, and if you choose to send your kid on to continue their education, even if it’s what your kid really wants, the Poké Corporation frowns on that. If they know you’ve got a kid and haven’t put them in a Pokémon Academy, they’ll fire you, they’ll make it hard for you to ever get a job again. They’ll find a reason to arrest you. They’ll lock you up and force your kid to go to their schools.”

“That’s terrible,” said Damian. “But they’ve got the option to go on to school, right? Kids can do a sixth year, and seventh year and more, right? Isn’t that required to become a nurse or professor?”

“You can go back and do your schooling later,” said Chris. “Most of the professors and nurses are just trained in their profession after they’ve done a journey. But I bet you’re wondering about all those Nurse Joys, aren’t you?”

“We have been,” said Grey. “Where did the Nurse Joys come from?”

“Nobody knows!” said Chris, his hoarse voice growing louder. “No one has a clue where the nurses came from, or the mysterious police officers who all look the same. One day we had your regular doctors, the next day they were all replaced by these nurses, and the Poké Corporation took over all the hospitals. Called them Pokémon Centers, made it free and easy to fix your Pokémon up after a fight and travel on. It became so much easier, so much cheaper, to live as a Pokémon Trainer, that most kids saw the appeal of prestige and battling and chose to continue training instead of studying. Most of the schools closed, at least those that teach you after you’ve turned eleven.”

“Are you going to let Angela go to school, if she wants to?” asked Damian.

“If she wants to, we’ll move to Pewter City for good and put her in the Pewter Secondary School, it’s one of the best,” said Chris. “Sharon agrees it’s the right thing for her. And if she wants to train, then yeah, I’ll let her train, but I’m not doing what so many parents do and pulling her out of school the day she turns ten. No, she’ll finish her fifth year, and she’ll learn how to survive in the woods, and I’ll make sure she’s got a good group to travel with or travel with her myself. Imagine sending your own ten-year-old daughter or son out there to walk the world without anyone to defend them!”

“I’d be scared,” said Damian.

“I’d be terrified!” said Grey more aggressively. “There are adults out there who could do horrible things to these children, and if you’re in the woods who’s going to protect you?”

“Poké insists that Pokémon will protect you in times of danger,” said Chris. “But imagine sending Angie out there tomorrow with just a Pidgey! There are people out there a hundred times stronger than her, and who’ll protect her if a powerful Pokémon knocks out her Pidgey or worse? Trainer crime is rare in this part of the world, but in areas near Celadon City, I’ve heard things can get rough. I’ve heard kids get robbed, but Poké covers it up. Poké just wants kids to stop learning.”

“Why would Poké want to stop kids from learning?” asked Damian. “Don’t they already control the schools? It seems irresponsible!”

Chris raised his head and looked Damian directly in the eyes. “Do you remember what it was like to be a teenager? You asked a lot of questions, didn’t you? They don’t want kids to ask questions. If Poké can convince kids that being a Pokémon Trainer at age ten or eleven is the right thing to do, the only thing they are supposed to want to do, then kids will go on to train Pokémon and never learn how to think critically, to ask questions. Poké’s got ways to make sure your kids are in line. They’ve got the police, they control the police, and if rumor is correct, they’ve also got vigilantes who work for them, thugs who wander about Kanto making sure there aren’t people like me out there, living a life outside of their customs.”

“So you were making sure that if vigilantes were to go through the woods, you’d find them first,” said Grey, understanding what Chris was doing and why he was so rough with them. “And they’d think you’re crazy, or homeless, and if you can beat them in a battle, they’d leave you well enough alone.”

“Close,” said Chris. “My Pokémon are trained to throw the fight if they’ve got to. If I sense real danger, I’d rather lose and run for it, concealing the fact that I’ve got much more powerful Pokémon just in case I really have to defend myself. If they think I’m just some bum living in the woods, living off the land, they’ll leave me be. They’ll pat each other on the back for kicking my sorry butt, and go off to Pewter City to bully the trainers there and have a drink if they’re old enough. I didn’t hold back with you two, though. I had a feeling you were new trainers when I saw the kinds of Pokémon you’ve got. All local, all relatively young.”

“Well, I appreciate you not holding back,” said Damian. “That was an interesting strategy, using Metapod.”

“Thanks for the antidotes, by the way,” said Chris. “I appreciate you not leaving me with a poisoned Pokémon in the woods.”

“I have a question, and it’s random,” said Grey. “I was wondering what you study if you go on with your education, since you said the Poké Corporation tries to control what kids learn. It sounds like kids in their sixth year learn critical thought, as you said, but I’m just curious. If you haven’t figured it out for sure, we’re not from Kanto. We’re not even from your world. How we got here is a long story, but we know what we’ve got to do and where we’ve got to go in order to get home. So what will Angie learn in school, otherwise?”

Chris stood up and walked over to the dining table, upon which Sharon, who had been listening but not contributing to the conversation, had set extra place settings for Damian and Grey. He picked up a pamphlet from the middle of the table, then walked over and handed it to Grey. Damian read over her shoulder:

Pewter Secondary School
An Alternative Means to Success

At Pewter Secondary School, we believe that children who are either unfit or unwilling to pursue Pokémon training as a career can still become productive members of society.

One of Kanto’s four institutions of higher education, Pewter Secondary School is committing to providing your child a well-rounded education.

Upon acceptance, first-year children will be required to study math, language arts, civics, physical science, History of Pokémon, and several electives. The courses will continue through third-year.

Third-year students take comprehensive examinations to determine fit for future education. There are two branches of school at Pewter Secondary: Technical and Comprehensive.

Technical students can study electric technology, nursing, or business in order to develop their skills in a set niche. Seventh-year students must complete an apprenticeship with one of several local sponsoring businesses, including Pewter Technologies®, the Pewter Pokémon Center, and Poké® Manufacturing. These students shall take courses that will enhance their skills, enabling them to develop expertise in their field and advance the science and health of Kanto.

Students who elect comprehensive education take a more general approach to their coursework, focusing their studies in courses such as biology, physics, language arts, social science, and art.

Students in the comprehensive education program are not required to complete an apprenticeship in seventh year. The Career Center can help these students find summer apprenticeships upon graduation from Pewter Secondary. Many students find meaningful work as laboratory assistants for professors, researching the history of Kanto, and contributing to the advancement of our society.

Pewter Secondary School has a night course program through the School of Technology and Innovation for children and adults over age eleven who have worked as Pokémon Trainers and would like to further their careers. The night program, sponsored by Poké Corporation®, will omit the general comprehensive requirements, instead focusing solely on the field of study elected by the student. Each June and December, students who have completed the necessary coursework receive certificates in their concentration.

Graduates of Pewter Secondary School have gone on to become professors, doctors, writers, scientists, and business executives—there are endless opportunities for your child here at Pewter Secondary School!

Regards,

Janice Jones
Headmaster, Pewter Secondary School

P.S.: Please note that although Pewter Secondary School has high retention of students, if at any time a student chooses to become a Pokémon Trainer and drops out of the program, completed coursework will be evaluated in order to provide a proper certification.

Grey put the paper down on the wooden coffee table, looking back up to Chris. “It sounds like Poké Corporation has put their hands in the pot and stirred it up,” said Grey. “Even though Angela will get a great education there, should she choose to go, it sounds like the school is highly regulated and the curriculum is controlled.”

“I figured, but still, some of the great dissenters of our time have walked the halls of Pewter Secondary School,” said Chris. “If it helps Angie open her mind and see her own version of the truth, rather than keep it shut until her values match those of society, then I’ll find a way for her to go.”

“Chris, I’ve got an idea,” said Grey. “What if we pose as students of the school and sit in on classes for a day? We’ll deliver a letter to Sharon at Poké Post, she’ll bring the letter home and the two of you can read and decide what’s right for Angela that way. It’s not fair that you have to watch from afar, and it’s not fair that you don’t have access to the information of what really goes on in the schools. Don’t your tax dollars pay for it?”

“What’s tax?” asked Chris.

“It’s when you give a portion of your income back to the governing body to fund public services,” said Grey.

“We don’t pay taxes here,” said a voice from the kitchen, and Sharon emerged, clutching a wooden spoon. “Everything we buy comes from the Poké Corporation. In a sense, it’s what you call taxes. In Pewter City, everything is subsidized by Poké.”

“There are no small businesses? None at all?” asked Damian.

“There’s a few pubs and an art shop,” said Sharon. “There’s a museum, a tattoo parlor, and there’s also a community garden for fresh fruits and vegetables that you can’t buy anywhere else. But that’s it. Poké runs everything else. It’s not obvious, but you can tell if you look closely. Poké runs everything.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Grey. “We’ll go undercover and report on what students are learning at the school. We look young enough to fit in—we’re both 21 years old, which isn’t much older than the seventh years at Pewter Secondary. We’ll pose as comprehensive students and really figure out the extent of the brainwashing.”

“That’s nuts!” said Damian. “How are we going to infiltrate an academy?”

“Easy,” said Grey. “When I came here, I had been holding my bag, and I’ve brought all my makeup. Damian, get ready to look 16 again. Plus you’ve got some acne, and I’ll just cover my tattoos up with long sleeves. We’ll spy on the students as they enter, then we’re going to play school.”

“Play school…” said Damian.

“You two are crazy,” said Chris. “But tell you what, let’s have some dinner and we’ll talk.”

----

Damian, Grey and Chris spent hours planning their espionage. Through Chris, they learned that the school does not have uniforms; that the school was only a half hour walk from the cabin; that the paths through the forest were deliberately twisted and wound around, and behind the cabin there was a direct route to Pewter City; that Pokémon are allowed on school grounds as long as they are kept in their Poké Balls (except during Pokémon Training electives); kids get tattoos as young as age 13 here, so Grey doesn’t need to cover up; and as long as they acted a bit more immature than they did and didn’t ask any questions, they’d have no problem.

Damian mulled the plan over in his head as he tried to sleep; the sleeping bag on the wooden floor wasn’t comfortable, but the pillows that Chris and Sharon had provided were quite comfortable. After practicing juvenile slang and attitudes in his head while counting to 100, he fell asleep; he didn’t count past fifty-five.