RagTag
Prolouge: The Squirtle
"You won't fight." It wasn't a question.
The squirtle shook its head, staring at the ground. It dared not look at Alice. Alice, for her part, studied the pokemon for a moment. Its shoulders were stiff, and the expression on its face was something that Alice, with the vocabulary of a ten year old, could not describe. But there was one thing she could see in it, and it confused her. It was like…expectance. Like the squirtle knew that this would happen.
"You never planned to fight…" Alice said slowly, mostly to herself. "You-you're a pacifist."
Mutely, the water type nodded.
It's ashamed, Alice thought. And with good reason, too. In a world that was run by the best fighters, where you were judged by how accurate your water gun was, or how far you could shoot your hyperbeam, those who refused to fight had no place.
She had been surprised when no one chose the squirtle back at Professor Oak's lab. It looked perfectly healthy, though perhaps lacking in the enthusiasm department. Alice had picked it, partly because she didn't like the look of the foul-tempered charmander, partly because she knew of a boy who had his sights set on bulbasaur, but, mostly, it was out of pity.
Alice let out a sigh. "I can't have a pokemon on my team who won't fight. You'd be dead weight. Useless."
The squirtle gave no indication of hearing her words, but somehow, Alice knew it was listening.
"It can't send you to Oak's…what kind of life is that? And releasing you isn't an option either, I mean, you really don't seem like the type to survive in the wilderness." Pausing, the girl considered something. "I suppose I could give you away to someone…but who'd have you?"
"Who'd have you?" She reflected, was their problem. If they could find the answer to that one question, then it would all be Alright. (With a capital A)
The squirtle had remained silent, but it was looking up at Alice now.
"Tomorrow…yes, tomorrow we'll look."
The blue turtle nodded, and Alice withdrew it into the pokeball.
Scott Harolds watched enviously as trainers came into the pokemon center. He knew he shouldn't be here, taunting himself, but self-control had never been a particularly strong point of his.
Years ago, his best friends had left on their Journeys, while he stayed here.
Alone.
There was no one else in town near his age of fourteen. At least, not permanently. They were all trainers, and didn't stick in one place very long.
He wouldn't have given up leaving his home for anything, especially traveling across the continent…but it would be nice to have company other than his parents and Crazy Ms. Drewl from four houses over.
He must have been lost in his thoughts, because he was surprised to hear a girl's voice ask, "Are you okay? Only you've been staring at the same area of the wall for the past five minutes."
Scott looked around to see a girl, probably ten years of age, observing him.
There was nothing particularly outstanding about the girl, who had dull brown hair and rather bland brown eyes. Scott got the impression that, had she not spoken to him, he would have missed her completely.
The girl looked expectant, so Scott gave an answer. "I'm fine, just thinking, that's all."
Looking thoughtful, the girl noted, "I see you have no pokeballs on your person, or even a pack to carry them in. Does Nurse Joy have them? Are your pokemon being healed?" The girl glanced back at said nurse, who was in the process of giving a trainer back their great ball.
Scott thought that this was all extremely nosy of the girl, so he didn't say anything. He also didn't want the embarrassment of explaining that he wasn't a trainer or breeder of any sort.
"Do you even have any pokemon?"
Giving up, Scott let out a "No." but in a dead sort of voice.
Strangely, the girl seemed to grow eager. "And why not?"
In the same deadpan voice, Scott answered, "Because I'm not a trainer." He really wondered why he was telling her all this.
The brown-haired girl, on the other hand, had begun digging through her tan backpack, murmuring excitedly about her luck. When she looked up at him again, she was smiling, a pokeball in hand.
"You want it?"
Scott blinked. "Um, is there anything in it?"
Laughing, the girl released a timid-looking squirtle from the red and white ball.
"You seem like a decent sort of fellow to me, in the ten minutes we've spent together. Now, my squirtle here needs a home, one which I can't give." She explained.
Scott couldn't believe it. "Seriously? I can have it? For free?"
"Yes." The girl simply stated.
"But why? You don't even know me!" Scott nearly shouted, bewildered.
"Well, I'm not really on close terms with the squirtle, either," the girl continued, "so now you two have something in common."
Mumbling under her breath, she also said, "You're probably the only chance I've got, too."
Scott wasn't sure what she meant by that, but, since he knew he wasn't supposed to her it, ignored it.
Saying goodbye to the squirtle, the girl tossed the pokeball to him. Then she walked out the pokemon center door, without looking back.
"Er," Scott said, trying to get over the strangeness of what had just happened, "I'm Scott. Um…do you have a name?"
Feeling that this wasn't enough, he offered the pokemon some of his toast.
And the squirtle was happy.
Author's Notes: I figure that giving a pokemon away to strangers in the pokemon world isn't as odd as it seems. I mean, trade centers, any one? Also, I don't pretend to be a great writer, so any constuctive criticism on spelling, grammar, ect., would be helpful.
