Preface: Hello everyone, this story is about an individual from our world being placed into the pokemon world by Arceus. There is no world-ending threat, or at least not one that Arceus specifically wants him to resolve. There is no great mission or villain, no fantastic reward at the end of the journey. In the end, this journey is exactly what the original character (OC for those new to fanfiction) makes of it.
The OC can be considered a self-insert (SI) in that his life contains elements of my own. For example, I am also an international relations major in the Washington, DC area. That said, he is also someone who acts very much unlike me and possesses some skills that I do not.
This is a story idea that has been on my mind for a while. Some of my favorite stories are humorous takes that imagine an overpowered character in a different universe (e.g. post 4th War Naruto, Master of Death Harry Potter, etc.) and I figured I'd write the origin story of an overpowered OC.
Pilot: Over the Moon
Aaron Phantomweiss was a graduate student working for his Master's in International Security at a school in Washington, DC. Years of studying nuclear proliferation, terrorism, and the anarchy of the international community had jaded him somewhat. Nonetheless, he found himself daydreaming of being someone special. Admittedly, for him, "someone special" usually meant someone who could influence US foreign policy directly.
He knew he was plain, utterly normal with drooping, raven-black hair, icy-blue eyes, and a pale complexion that left him sweltering in the DC summer heat. If one looked closely, one might find that his eyes were shaped narrower than his Germanic last name would indicate, his hair much too dark to simply be European. Both were byproducts of his Japanese-American grandmother and Korean mother, traits he cherished about himself, even if he looked a bit awkward.
He was lured from his current musings by the chime of a bell. He stood at attention and put on his most winning smile. "Hello, welcome to Foodie Frank's! You wouldn't happen to be the party of twelve we reserved for tonight, would you?" he asked. Once he received confirmation, he gave a short bow and led them towards a pre-set table. 'Nothing like working as a restaurant host to remind you of where you stand on the social ladder,' he mused to himself as he walked back to the front of the establishment.
That night, he got home at 10 pm, took a shower, and promptly collapsed onto his bed in exhaustion, his midterm on Trump's East Asian policy completely forgotten. That was fine; he had another week to finish the essay. He mumbled a slurred greeting to his roommate before sleep claimed him.
X
"Do you want to be someone special, Aaron Phantomweiss?" a voice called in the emptiness.
He shook the sleep from his eyes and tried to focus on the voice. "Huh? What?"
"Do you want to be someone special, Aaron Phantomweiss?" the voice repeated. Somehow, it sounded inhuman. The words were English, easy enough to understand, but there was something else, something greater. The blackness receded and Aaron found himself sitting on hard stone. The mild discomfort was noted and immediately dismissed in favor of the shock to his system by the sight before him.
"Do you want to be someone special, Aaron Phantomweiss?" The pale, horse-like figure repeated. This time, his voice was tinged with annoyance brought on by impatience.
Aaron gawked. He moved his eyes up and down the figure, but he just could not process the message his eyes were sending to his brain. Before him was a pale, equine form with a black face reminiscent of a mask. Green eyes with crimson pupils stared imperiously back at him. Golden rings circled its body and one seemed to loop around its midsection. "Ok, now I know I'm dreaming."
"You are most certainly not."Arceus, for it could be no one else, replied. "You died and therefore cannot dream."
"Wait what? I died? How? Why?" He began to breathe heavily, or whatever the equivalent of that was for ghosts. Nothing in his limited experience could have prepared him for the mental backhand that startled him out of his mounting panic attack.
"Enough, Aaron, I will not permit you to act the fool," Arceus didn't say as much as declare and it was so.
"Ok, run me through this. I died," a minor tilt of the head he interpreted as a nod, "and the god of my favorite fictional franchise is here to greet me," another tilt, "Why? Why not any gods from any number of religions in my world? Don't tell me Satoshi Tajiri accidentally stumbled upon the one true religion while creating his game. Or maybe his gaming legacy is a front for a cult and I never realized? Or what if he's secretly a prophet? Or –" Aaron was cut off once more by a second psychic slap. He took a deep breath. "Thanks. Now can you please explain what the hell is going on?"
"The omniverse is diverse and I am one of several primordials, what you might call an Origin, that created his own multiverse. I picked you because…" Arceus seemed to trail off and three snickers filled the air.
"Oh, come now, father, just tell the human the truth." Aaron had to pick his lower jaw off the floor one more time as three dragons circled down from above. One was cobalt-blue, another violet, and the third reminded him of a centipede. "If you recognize our father, then surely we need no introductions?" the being he knew as Giratina said, her voice somehow deep yet feminine. Her voice seemed to trail off like the low note of a saxophone, filling the silence with echoes that did not exist.
"First question, are you a boy or a girl?" Aaron blurted out, then immediately shoved his fist into his mouth. The cobalt dragon laughed, his voice filling the void with the booming chorus of an entire drum line.
"No offense taken, little one," Dialga called, "The depiction of us beings you know as pokemon in your world is something of a running gag to us Elder Gods. We, as concepts made manifest, do not have a binary gender as you humans know it, but Arceus is called the Father so you can presume him to be male. I suppose myself and Palkia would be as well. Originally, neither of us cared much for such arbitrary definitions, but as we were worshipped in Sinnoh as male deities, we simply took on the forms prescribed to us by our priests. Communicating with mortals is simpler if we concede some of their expectations you see."
"As for Giratina, she chose to identify as a female just to spite our little family; she always was the rebel," Palkia chimed in, his voice rippling through the air like an ocean current.
"Shut up, brother," she sniped. She clicked her tongue in irritation and turned back to Aaron, "Look, the truth is that we are bored. Yes, immortals get bored, and if I have to stay with those two idiots with nothing to do for another decade, I'm going to go back to the Distortion World and never come out."
"Just out of curiosity, how did…" he halted, trying to phrase his question without offending a dragon goddess.
"I… just call it the legacy of a misspent youth. I was exiled for a time. Father sent me away to gain control over my powers. I am the strongest of us three, you know," she replied with no small amount of pride.
"Careful, sister, that sounds like a challenge," Dialga said with narrowed eyes.
"Enough." Silence filled the void as Arceus intervened before Aaron could watch a battle worth of the legends. Rather than fear, he found himself mildly disappointed. "The truth is, Aaron, that we have something of a game among us."
"Wait, so you killed me and dragged my soul across dimensions because you're having family game night?" he shouted indignantly.
"No, you died on your own. Do you remember arriving home tired and crashing on your bed? Yes, well that extra-dense memory foam pillow you got might be comfortable, but it wasn't very conducive for breathing," Palkia informed him in what he hoped was a helpful tone.
"Wait… so I died… because I fell face down into my favorite pillow and my body didn't correct itself in time to keep me from suffocating?" He looked around to four solemn nods, though he could've sworn Giratina's tail was twitching with what he'd bet his soul was laughter. "Fine, I give up. What now? Are you going to call up more souls and have us fight to the death or something?"
"What, no, of course not," four voices said as one.
"Ahem," Arceus cleared his throat, "We just want you to go on a pokemon journey. We get some amusement and you get to go on the journey of a lifetime. Two lifetimes in your case, but who's counting?" he chuckled at his own joke.
"No way," Aaron refused. "Thanks for the offer, but that's suicidal. I mean, really? Who would realistically trust ten year old children to care for and train a fire breathing lizard? And charmander is one of the tamer pokemon you can find."
"I assure you that's as ridiculous as asking for your grandson's gender or somehow traveling through seven regions within the span of a year. Most people in the pokemon world begin training with a partner pokemon as soon as they can manage, but they are not expected to travel at all and becoming a wandering trainer requires a license because my children are sometimes… unfriendly… to say the least. At any rate, the pokemon world is far more realistic than you know."
"That still doesn't tell me why I should romp around your world. I mean, no offense, but if you're going to give me a new lease on life, I'd like to live for as long as possible."
"Hmm, he does make a fair point, father," Palkia interjected. He then turned to Aaron. "You're worried about your own physical wellbeing, yes? What if we gave you our blessing?"
"Yes, that could work," Arceus said, "Aaron, I am not omnipotent."
"You called yourself the Origin; doesn't that kind of imply omnipotence?"
"No, it implies that I am the Creator of a multiverse. In other words, I do not have limitless power across the omniverse, only the ones modeled after myself."
"Fair. Now, what does that have to do with me traipsing across the pokemon world for your amusement?"
"Not much, but it does have a lot to do with you as a whole," Dialga cut in, his teeth coming together in metallic clicks. "You are your universe's incarnation of Sir Arion of Oldaron." Seeing the blank look on the human's face, he sighed. "Perhaps you'd recognize him as Sir Aaron of Cameran Palace?"
"Oh… Pfffttt hahahahahahaha, that's too funny. You're telling me that I am some legendary hero?"
"Oh, no, you're completely normal."
"Indeed, utterly plain."
"The only thing extraordinary about you is the way you died. It was extraordinarily pathetic."
"Agreed."
"You guys aren't exactly making me want to go along with your plan here…"
"Anyway, let's get back on track. You are an incarnation of Sir Arion, one version of his soul in an omniverse filled with limitless possibilities. You may be average, but your soul does have some connection to the hero of my world. It is with this connection that I drew you here. By manipulating this connection further, I can give you the ability to access aura, the life force of all things, to help you on your way," Arceus said.
Aaron stood, dusting his palms and looked around. He had missed the finer details of his surroundings thanks to the rather conspicuous deities, but the carvings on the floor really were amazing. Violet, blue, and red circles covered the stone floor in a triangle formation. It took a moment for the information to settle, but Aaron belatedly realized that he was standing at the center of the Mystri Stage. This information brought all of it crashing down for him, the weight of his new reality turning his normal cynicism into solemn contemplation. "I'll do it," he inwardly sighed at the glint of eager amusement in each of their eyes. "But, you've got to give me a bit more than the potential to use aura. It's one thing to say I'll have as much potential as Sir Arion or Aaron or whatever, but it's another matter for me to achieve it. Arion had to have studied as an acolyte or squire or some other junior rank before he became the legendary hero he was known as, right? Unlike him, I'm already a grown man. I'm twenty-three for your sake, Arceus, I can't just pick up an entirely separate craft and master it, especially not some ancient art form I didn't even know existed until five seconds ago. You've got to give me more to go on than that. And another thing, when does it end?" He sighed at the questioning glances. "I'm not necessarily against being your source of amusement, but when do I stop my journey? And what's waiting for me at the end?"
"You… are much shrewder than I had expected, Aaron. Perhaps there is more of Arion in you than I thought," Arceus said. "Very well, in your old life, you were fond of games. I will make a system similar to what you know as a Role-Playing Game. This way, you will both be more familiar with the mechanics of my world and be able to control your growth. Thus, you shall be responsible for your own destiny."
"Fine, but again, when does it end?"
"Hmm… that is indeed an interesting question. Let us say, when you truly become a master with a team of six dedicated to you."
"That's a rather arbitrary goal, but I suppose I'm just going to have to roll with it. What now?"
"Now you scream in agony."
"Wha—AGGHHHHHHHH!" Aaron didn't even get to finish that question before excruciating pain overtook all rational thought. The world mercifully faded to black.
X
You have slept in a bed. Your HP and MP have been fully restored. All negative status conditions have been removed.
Aaron groaned in discomfort as he sat up. He stared. The box wasn't disappearing. "So that was real then," he muttered to himself. He looked around to find himself in a typical hotel room with a small window, generic flower vase, and a plain lamp. "Arceus did say I'd get RPG powers, so… status?" As soon as the word left his lips, the already irritatingly familiar azure screen filled his vision.
Name: Aaron Phantomweiss
Level: 1 (0%)
Title: The Gamer
Ability: NA
HP: 50
MP: 80
STR: 3
DEX: 6
VIT: 5
INT: 8
WIS: 10
LUK: 2
CHA: 5
AP: 0
SP: 1
Description: Aaron Phantomweiss died and was given a new lease on life in the pokemon world as part of an agreement between him and the Origin. He is just trying to find his way…
"Ok, let's see here… my highest score is ten, so assuming that's about as high a score as a normal person can have… that makes five or six the average. Three Strength makes sense, I was never athletic. Oh, pale goat, I'm going to be doing a lot of walking, aren't I?" Aaron sighed. "Six Dexterity is reasonable. I may not be the fastest around, but that puts me at slightly above the norm but within the average range. I'm assuming DEX also covers deftness of fingers or similar skills since I dabbled in drawing and origami and whatnot. Vitality is normal. Intelligence too, I was going for my Master's after all," he said smugly, "and I suppose Wisdom would be higher too given that I was studying social science, not exactly what people call concrete by any stretch. Why is my Luck so low though? Are those guys somehow counting my death?"
Yes. A second blue screen popped up.
"You guys can hear me."
Of course, the screen replied, have you ever watched a movie on mute? Your left eyebrow is twitching, by the way. That can't be healthy.
Aaron did his best to ignore the chatty deities. "From what I can see, my HP is ten times my Vitality and my MP is ten times my Intelligence. That's good."
For thinking through some game mechanics, take +1 INT.
"Gee, thanks, could you be any less condescending?" he grumbled, but checked to make sure that his stat did rise. Even if he did agree to be their amusement, he wouldn't simply let himself get swindled out of his stats. "Wait, I'm sure you guys will stop being so responsive soon, so I have some questions."
Smart human, take another INT. We will answer three questions. The rest is up to you… until one of us gets bored.
"Lovely… I'll just pretend this is a tutorial then. First question: What do I do about my identity?"
That's easy. Father made you an identity. You are currently at the Lumiose City pokemon center, the southernmost one to be exact. Your room has been rented for one week. You will find your pokemon ownership license, passport, and general travel gear along with some money under the bed. In your bag, there is also a brief dossier on your fabricated history, including a nice sob story. I suggest you memorize it and get rid of the file.
"Wait, 'father?' Are you Dialg – No! Don't answer that, that wasn't a question."
Very well, what is your second question?
"When in the timeline am I? Clearly, this bed is modern so I'm not in the time of AZ, but did AZ create his doomsday device?"
Those are two questions, but I'll be nice. You are roughly at the start when Serena picks her fennekin. Yes, AZ built the doomsday device. I will offer no more details.
"Fine, play hardball. One final question then: What is the fastest way for me to get stronger that is available to me?"
Human sacrifice.
"Ok, why hello there, Giratina."
How?
"None of the other three would give an answer like that. Besides, it's not like I have any knowledge of rituals that'd let me get stronger from killing people." The blue screen shimmered and fizzled out into static before stabilizing.
Ahem, this is Dialga. There are effectively two ways to grow stronger: First, you can train your attributes through exercise, study, or similar activities. Second, you can train skills. Yes, you have skills, don't interrupt. Or rather, you can have skills. Please make note: YOU CANNOT CREATE YOUR OWN SKILLS. ALL SKILLS MUST BE ADAPTED FROM YOUR POKEMON, PRESTIGED, OR LEARNED THROUGH ANOTHER EXTERNAL SOURCE. Seeing how you have no skills at the moment, I recommend finding yourself a pokemon. This concludes your tutorial. Good luck, Aaron. The blue screen disappeared.
"That wasn't as helpful as I would have liked," Aaron mused, "but it's not like I learned nothing so there's that." Aaron concentrated hard and glared at his pillow until his eyes watered. "Shit, I really can't create any skills then. No Observe, never mind Heat Beam Eyes. Oh well, it was worth a shot. One more thing: Inventory!" His voice seemed to distort the very air for a moment and the azure screen returned.
Inventory (Capacity: 0/30 lb)
Aaron stared at the screen before letting out a whoop of delight. "Fuck yea, I know space manipulation!" After calming down, he noticed the weight limit. It dampened his spirits a little, but he made note of the 30 pound limit and immediately connected that to his pathetic three Strength. Looking down, he found himself standing only in his boxers and sighed. He dragged the travel pack he'd received from the deities from beneath the bed and spread out his belongings over his blankets. He was surprised to find that his "camping gear" consisted of something similar to his world's army combat uniform, or ACU for short. It was camouflaged and the material was a deep navy blue, denser than the standard cloth he could see the people strolling outside wearing. He found a second set and a vest made of ceramic plates he'd undoubtedly use for protection. All things considered, his outfit would weigh roughly 22 lb, three for the clothes and 19 for the body armor.
It was this fact that really brought the message home for him. He, Aaron Phantomweiss, required body armor. He, Aaron Phantomweiss, was in a world which required body armor. He, Aaron Phantomweiss, would likely die without this armor. He had to take a few minutes to digest this fact and all its accompanying implications. Thankfully, he found no more jarring surprises when he opened his rucksack. In it were a tightly rolled sleeping bag, rations, canteen, basic cookware, lighter and fluid, flashlight, what he thought was a GPS, an old fashioned compass, a small handgun he didn't know the name of with some packs of spare bullets, and his new wallet. The wallet contained ten bills with the number 100 printed on them. "Not a bad start," he mused." He quickly shoved everything back where he found it and was happy to push them into his inventory.
Inventory (Capacity: 24/30lb)
-Travel Pack
-Money: 1000 Credits
Given that his new vest weighed almost 20 lb, he was grateful for the small mercy. It was one thing to hear about how soldiers carried 60 lb packs every day, but an entirely different story to live it. "Now that I have the inventory somewhat in check… skills!" The screen did appear, but it was entirely blank. He wasn't too disappointed, Dialga had told him as much, but that blank screen told him just how weak he currently was. Even if he was unable to use Observe, he was fully aware that pokemon, and quite a few humans, would be able to take him down. His only real hope was that he'd get a decent starter and a fair shot before he ran into a wild tyranitar or something equally ridiculous. He shook himself from his thoughts and figured he'd start with the dossier.
"Let's see… 'Aaron Phantomweiss, sometimes goes by Arion, named for the Aura Master. Age: 23. Height: 5' 7". Weight: 152 lb. Hair: Black. Eyes: Blue. Skin: Pale. Background: Aaron used to live in Opelucid City in Unova. He had no early interest in pokemon battling and chose to join the city watch instead at the age of 15. Over the course of two years, he distinguished himself from his peers through his intelligence and hard work, though he was never considered particularly athletic or suited for a combat position. As a result, he was asked by his superiors to train recruits and handle logistics rather than run patrols. Aaron lost everything four months ago when Team Plasma's aerial frigate laid waste to the city using Kyurem's power. His parents perished in the attack, but Aaron's friends in the city watch and among the ACE Corps managed to evacuate him along with several dozen civilians. Since then, he left the Unova Region and has earned his pokemon ownership license. He has moved to Lumiose to try his hand at training…' Wow, that's dark. I mean, I can't feel bad for a hypothetical family or anything, but still. At least it tells me something about the happenings of other regions."
Aaron finally zipped up his vest and stepped outside. The outside hallway was plain with some colored tiles in seemingly random places for flavor. It more or less looked like a generic hospital. He followed the exit sign until he emerged into the lobby and encountered a pretty brunette. She sat at a counter with her head leaning against one hand while the other cradled a coffee mug like it was her firstborn. She hadn't even noticed him until his fake cough, the universal plea for attention, caught her by surprise. Startled, she gave a high squeak and almost tossed the mug into the air.
"Holy shit, don't do that!" she yelled.
"Don't talk to the receptionist?" he quirked an eyebrow.
Her cheeks reddened as she fumbled out some excuse about not getting enough sleep. "Anyway," she took a deep breath and said with more composure, "What can I do for you, sir? You're rather late for breakfast, I'm afraid. The canteen is already closed. Lunch won't start for another hour."
Her wooden smile silently screamed for him to go away, so he shook his head ruefully and took a step back. "Ok, thanks, miss. Can you point me to Professor Sycamore's lab? I'd like to ask for a starting pokemon."
She eyed him dumbly. Her mouth opened then closed, but no sound came out. After a few moments, she collected herself. "Aren't you a little old to be starting your journey? I thought you'd be a veteran with that outfit."
"Look…" he glanced at the nametag over her left breast, "Etoile, I've just recently sparked up an interest, ok? I just want to speak to the professor about it."
"Fine, fine, it's none of my business anyway. Go outside, take a right, and walk straight for two blocks. You can't miss his lab because it looks more like a small manor."
Aaron nodded his thanks and proceeded to do just that. As he stepped out his eyes narrowed to accommodate the dazzling sunlight. All things said and done, the cityscape did not interest him much. He studied in DC after all; the urban jungle was nothing new. What did catch his eye was several of what he assumed to be trainers riding on gogoats and weaving through traffic. The gogoats didn't look tired in the least while the trainers were whooping and hollering as they urged their mounts to go faster. Traffic, like on his world, moved at an average of about 35 mph. The goats were running at that speed, dodging traffic, carrying passengers, with no signs of exertion. "Pokemon are amazing," he mused.
X
The professor's lab was a manor, plain and simple. It covered half the city block; though to be fair, he probably needed that space if Professor Oak's lab in the anime was anything to judge by. The neo-gothic style was a little disconcerting at first, but Aaron shrugged and marched inside. "Of course the doors creak," he muttered. "Hello? Anybody there?"
"Out back!" a muffled voice called. Aaron followed the sound until he emerged into a garden. Turns out, the manor was shaped like a square donut; the center was just a hollow space open to the sky and filled with a synthetic forest environment.
Aaron froze. Back in his old life, he was unashamed to admit that he was a pokemon fan. He was good enough to rank rather highly on the Smogon OU ladder after all. Garchomp, one of the reigning kings of competitive play, was being petted and pampered by a man who could only be the professor. The azure dragon was crouched low, its snout rubbing the professor's outstretched hand. Aaron was unsurprised to note that the good professor was wearing a glove. A glove made of metal mesh. 'So the Garchomp has Rough Skin,' he thought. The dragon sniffed the air and gave Aaron a cautious look. Suddenly, it rose to its full height. The official pokedex entry noted Garchomp as being 6' 3". 'BULLSHIT,' Aaron screamed in his mind. The hulking dragon was easily twice that height, if not more. It lowered its head once more. Rather than wait for a friendly pat, the beast charged, causing a palpable distortion in the air. One moment, it was by the professor. The next, it had appeared an inch from Aaron's face, startling him and forcing him to land painfully on his backside. It glared menacingly and Aaron found a new appreciation for Lance's skill as the Dragon Master.
"Hahahahahaha." Rambunctious laughter filled the air as the professor doubled over in hilarity. It wasn't particularly malicious, but Aaron couldn't help but be annoyed. He had realized too late that the Garchomp was testing him. If the dragon was so rash as to attack everyone who visited the professor, there would be no way the professor would have kept it out, nor would he even be permitted to have a lab within city limits. "Garchomp, to me," he commanded, a hint of steel entering his voice. The dragon strolled back at a much more sedate pace. "Now, visitor, who are you?'
Aaron stood with as much dignity as he could muster and shook off the dust from his fall. "My name is Aaron Phantomweiss. I was hoping you could give me a starter."
Sycamore's eyes narrowed appraisingly. "You realize starters are only handed out to people who pass with a 95% or higher on their trainer's license exams? You don't sound like you're native to Kalos. If you travelled, you should already have a pokemon."
"I don't have a pokemon. I don't have a trainer's license either. I have an owner's license. It's why I'm here actually. I'd like to take a shot at training. I know it's a bit late for me," the professor scoffed, "but I want the chance at least. It's not as though I can't take the test, right?"
"True enough, though I'm going to have to run a background check to make sure you're not lying. ID please."
'Moment of truth,' Aaron thought as he fished his ID from his wallet.
"Interesting, this is Unovan, right? From Opelucid City… Ah, my condolences, young man."
"It's nothing. I'm not the type to dwell on stuff like that," Aaron said as evenly as he could.
"Well, it all checks out, Mr. Aaron Phantomweiss. You are free to take the test. Go back to the main hall and take a left. Head straight and you'll find my secretary's office. Let her know why you're here and Carol will show you what to do next."
X
Question 1: What is the strongest type?
Answer: No type is perfect; they each have their own flaws and benefits.
Question 2: Imagine that you are attacked by a pack of houndoom. What is your best course of action?
Answer: That depends on the pokemon in my team at the moment, but usually it will be to run. Only the strongest pokemon can take on a full pack of houndoom without serious injury. I would have a water type cover my retreat then use a flying type to fly away.
Question 3: Why is lucario considered a steel type?
Answer: Lucario have tough bodies. More than that, the spikes on their chests and limbs can act as weapons. They seem uniquely suited to channeling steel type energy.
Question 4: Ditto can be any pokemon in the world; some say ditto can even copy aspects of Legendaries. Yet, not one gym leader or elite four member has ever had ditto on his or her main team. Why?
Answer: Ditto may be able to copy all abilities of a pokemon, but ditto cannot copy a pokemon's natural vitality. Ditto, being amorphous, does not have much in the way of stamina and a few good hits will knock out even a ditto posing as a metagross. A ditto that takes an unfamiliar form naturally needs time to train and use that form. Transform, while a versatile move, has some serious downsides that makes it very difficult to train. Why have an imposter metagross with poor stamina when you can put in the effort to train the real thing?
'Ugh, I have no idea if that's right,' Aaron thought. 'I can tell you the effect of Gale Wing on talonflame, explain why entry hazards are so important, and talk about the benefits of weather based teams, but I don't know the first thing about pokemon biology,' he griped, 'Sycamore is going to think I'm an idiot-savant, isn't he?'
X
'This kid is an idiot-savant,' the professor thought as he looked over Aaron's answers. 'He's got a hell of a mind for tactics and strategy. I haven't even heard of some of these. Teach an arcanine morning sun and use it to tank hits? Who even uses a fire type as a wall anyway? Except Malva… but she's Malva… For that matter, who even calls it a wall?' He sighed and took a sip of coffee. He had returned to his office and Carol had come in carrying Aaron's test sheets ten minutes ago. He honestly hadn't expected much from the latecomer. It was a general truism that no matter how talented you were, training powerful pokemon took time, especially since some of them took many years to evolve and mature into their power. As such, trainers that met their primary partners through an owner's license before the age of fifteen had a massive head start. And yet, the regional professor couldn't help but wonder about the boy, man, who dropped by today. He was well dressed for the road, though he himself did not look to be as rugged as his preparedness might indicate. He knew quite a bit about tactics and strategy and if his test results were anything to go by, negotiation as well. However, he was a bona fide moron when it came to the habits of wild pokemon, how to track them, how to avoid them, diets, and other similar factors almost every aspiring trainer knew by heart. 'Remember, Sycamore, he never wanted to be a trainer. He was forced into it,' the professor ran a tired hand through his hair as he scolded himself internally.
Sighing, he stood and walked out into the lobby where the man was waiting. He cleared his voice to get his attention. "Good news, Aaron. You passed. You managed a near perfect score on tactical, strategic, and conflict resolution assessments. You got roughly half of everything else correct for a mediocre score of 72%. How you managed to do so well in one and not know the most basic questions of the other half beats me, but rules are rules. Carol," he waved to his assistant, "please print Mr. Phantomweiss' trainer ID." The professor turned back to Aaron and took another sip of coffee. "Look, Aaron, I'm going to be frank with you. You shouldn't be a trainer. You are a tactical genius as far as I know, but training involves more than battling. A good trainer must know about the life cycle of his or her pokemon. They must maintain their pokemon's proper nutrition, teach techniques, and when the situation calls for it, conduct operations on behalf of the Kalos League. You might succeed in some areas, but you fail so horrendously in others that I don't feel comfortable with giving you this license, no matter what the law says."
Aaron stood in silence and mulled over the professor's words. 'He's right. It's not too surprising. Sure, I was a ranked competitive pokemon player, but that doesn't mean I'll suddenly take this world by storm.' After a long moment, he spoke, "Professor, I am aware that I'm lacking in a lot of areas, but I'm not in a position where I can get out of being a trainer." 'Because the Origin and three elder gods will fry my ass if I don't,' he said in his head. "I've got another week's worth of time booked at the pokemon center. I don't plan to set out right away; the original plan was to sit in Lumiose and brush up on the local intel so I don't get killed in my sleep or something. Is that fair?"
The professor nodded in agreement. "Yes, this is wise. I'm glad you're not hot headed enough to run out into the routes like a fool. Even the routes closer to the city can be dangerous," he warned.
"No road is safe for an idiot," Aaron quoted a line from his world.
The professor gave another nod. "Indeed. Tell you what, I can't offer you a region-exclusive starter. Not only are they rare, their elemental abilities can prove very challenging for unqualified trainers. And like it or not, you're unqualified. Instead, if you come visit me every single day for the next week, I'll see what I can do about getting you a partner that's more appropriate for your level. I'll also take the time to cram as much information as I can into that head of yours. Agreed?"
Aaron thought about it and realized just how generous the professor was being. As a regional professor, he had to be busy. There was simply no way he wasn't, especially not with the mega stones cropping up all over the place. "Thank you, I'll take you up on that offer, professor."
Sycamore smiled. "Then we are agreed. Now, take the day to enjoy the city while I try to condense six years of Pokemon 101 down to six days. Lumiose has much to offer and even natives find something new regularly. Be here by 8am tomorrow."
Aaron left the lab with a brisk farewell. The three hour written exam was accompanied by a general physical portion. As expected of someone with 5 VIT, 6 DEX, and 3 STR, he passed without raising any eyebrows. As far as Carol was concerned, he was an average adult male, though on the weaker side. All things considered, it was five hours later by the time he received his test results. He had left the pokemon center sometime between breakfast and lunch, so he was starving. He quickly ducked into a restaurant called "Le Café Popote" and ordered himself a burger while trying to ignore the looks of condescension from the waitress and fellow patrons.
"Uncultured Unovan pig," a graying old man muttered in hushed French.
"Huh, I had no idea anyone could sound offensive in French," Aaron mused. "Holy fuck, I can speak French!"
"Monsieur, please quiet down. You are bothering other patrons," the waitress scolded.
Aaron rubbed his head sheepishly and gave her his best smile. "Sorry about that, mademoiselle. Just by any chance, could you please speak with me for a while? I'm trying to measure my understanding of the French language." 'Alright, calm down, Aaron. It's not like this is the weirdest thing that's happened to you.'
"French?" she tilted her head in inquiry, "What is that, monsieur? We are speaking Kalosi."
'Of course it's Kalosi… there is no France here.' He gave her what he hoped was a winning smile. "Sorry, sorry, Kalosi. I had a few friends back in Unova. They had a strange habit of giving the regions their own names. They would speak of their dreams at being pokemon masters and pretend to be secretive about it. You know how kids are. I'm afraid some of that rubbed off on me and it just slipped out now that I am actually in Kalos."
The waitress gave a charming smile. "Oh, that is adorable. For the record, your Kalosi is fantastic. You must have practiced a lot."
Congratulations, you've gained a Perk! Perks are a hidden mechanic in this game of ours. For the sake of convenience and expedience, this one is free. It only took you most of the day to figure it out. Idiot.
Languages: Allows the fluent comprehension and expression of all languages encountered in the pokemon world. Be warned, while they may be similar to the tongues of your world, they may hold nuanced differences. For example, French is called Kalosi.
"You could say that." 'But you'd be lying,' he finished in his head. 'Condescending assholes,' he thought before willing the notification box closed.
"Your choices in cuisine need work though, monsieur," she said gently. "Unovan may be more to your palate, but you are in Lumiose, the capital of culture! You should expand your repertoire, non?"
"You're right, I'll be here for a week before I hit the road again, so I'll be back to visit. You can recommend a dish for me then."
"Oui. I'm glad you are willing to explore. Oh, my name is Catherine, it has been a pleasure…"
"Aaron, Aaron Phantomweiss," he held out his hand. "Likewise, Catherine."
The rest of the meal went smoothly. The food wasn't quite as he remembered it in DC, but a burger was a burger and he enjoyed it nonetheless. 'I suppose I can't expect taurus meat to be exactly the same as beef,' he thought. 'It's definitely way leaner. Maybe that's why they put in so much ketchup, to add more moisture?'
X
Seven days passed in what seemed like a blur. He woke up at five, exercised for two hours, then returned to the pokemon center for the free breakfast. Then, after a quick shower, he headed out to the professor's lab by roughly 8am. He would help Carol with minor clerical work for two hours while the professor fed and cared for his pokemon then the two would spend the next five hours talking about various subjects a trainer should know with an hour somewhere in the middle for lunch. At 4pm, the professor would give him a handful of books to read and send him home while he'd return to his research. Aaron would head back to the center, drop off his goods, then run around some more while he committed the day's lessons to memory. He'd wash up again and return to the Popote for the day's recommended meal from Catherine. After returning home at roughly 8pm, he'd hit the professor's books until sleep took him.
'It's been a productive week,' he thought as he looked over his progress.
Name: Aaron Phantomweiss
Level: 1 (0%)
Title: The Gamer
Ability: NA
HP: 90
MP: 180
STR: 3 +3
DEX: 6 +4
VIT: 5 +4
INT: 10 +8
WIS: 11
LUK: 2
CHA: 5 +1
AP: 0
SP: 1
Description: Aaron Phantomweiss died and was given a new lease on life in the pokemon world as part of an agreement between him and the Origin. He is just trying to find his way…
Perks
Languages: Allows the fluent comprehension and expression of all languages encountered in the pokemon world. Be warned, while they may be similar to the tongues of your world, they may hold nuanced differences. For example, French is called Kalosi.
-Languages Discovered: Kalosi (French)
Inventory (Capacity: 24/60 lb)
-Travel Pack
-Money: 930 Credits
Overall, he'd gained 3 STR, 4 DEX, 4 VIT, 8 INT, and 1 CHA. That last point in Charisma threw him for a bit of a loop until he read the notification.
You have gained +1 CHA for chatting up that foxy waitress. Go chase that tail! (DISCLAIMER: This statement in no way reflects the opinions of the Celestial Dragons or the Origin with the exception of Giratina, that insufferable whore.)
He laughed for a good minute in the middle of the road, causing mothers covered their children's eyes and walk on the other side of the street from him. It was now the eighth day and he had checked himself out of the pokemon center after cramming everything he would need inside his inventory. 'Ah, inventory, the single most useful skill in a gamer's arsenal,' he thought. With an additional three points in strength, his inventory's capacity had shot up to 60 lb, allowing him to store the entirety of his gear except the protective vest with space to spare. 'After all, armor is only useful if you put it on.' He was currently waiting in the atrium of the professor's lab for his first pokemon. He knew, of course, that it would not be froakie, or any of the other starters, as awesome as that might be, but he couldn't help but be excited. Kalos had tons of major powerhouses after all. Besides, power in the pokemon came from a variety of sources, but one in particular stood out to him: mega evolution. It allowed a mediocre fourth rate like mawile to dominate the competitive scene, at least in his world, being banned from all forms of competitive play except the Smogon Ubers tier, a classification reserved for the likes of Groudon, Rayquaza, and Lugia. The professor finally returned.
"Well, Aaron, I've got to say, you've impressed me. I figured you'd have a bit more discipline than a fifteen year old, but I didn't think you'd put in this much effort into learning. I'm sorry to say I still can't offer you a regional starter however."
"That's fine, professor, it's nothing unexpected."
"Indeed. As a beginning trainer, I tried to get you a pokemon you could bond with easily while simultaneously having the potential for immense growth."
Aaron couldn't help but feel excited. There were many options that fit the bill in the Kalos region. 'Is it a honedge? Probably not, ghost types must be hard to train. Fletchling? Talonflame is strong as all hell.'
"I got you a bunny."
"What?" The expression of excitement on his face froze.
"Oh don't look like that, I swear that this little guy has immense potential. He was bred for greatness after all." He held out the familiar red and white sphere.
Aaron nodded dumbly and accepted the pokeball. 'A buneary, really? Wait, don't judge too quickly, Aaron. They must be rare in Kalos, since they're native to Sinnoh. They can also mega evolve so lopunny isn't a weak choice by any means.' A more genuine smile filled his face. "Thank you, professor, I'll treasure him."
"Well, go on then," Sycamore urged.
Aaron felt a knot in his throat, his hands suddenly clammy with nervous sweat. He threw the ball and a brilliant white light filled the room. The light faded to reveal a bunny. A gray bunny with massive ears that ended in tough, dirt-smudged, shovel-like ridges.
"A bunnelby."
"Yes, a bunnelby. I wish you the best of luck, young man."
Omake: The Professor's Lessons, Day 1: Potions
Aaron sat facing the professor. "So… what's lesson one?"
The professor gave a gentle smile and laid out several items on the table. "Do you know what these are?" Aaron's curiosity rapidly got the better of him and he picked up one to take a closer look. There were four spray bottles on the table, violet, yellow, pink, and blue. The one he had picked up was the smallest, with a violet tint and some sort of liquid inside.
Aaron grinned and replied, "They're potions, right? Standard," he held up his bottle, "super," he pointed to the yellow, "hyper, and max," he finished by pointing to the pink and blue bottles in turn.
"Very good, I'm glad I won't have to start from the very beginning. It's nice to see that the Opelucid City Watch has taught you the basics at least."
'Heh, sure, let's go with that,' Aaron thought.
"They are applied to heal wounds, and because trainers start at a young age, the potions are made to be… well…" the professor paused as he tried to find a tactful way to describe budding trainers.
"Idiot-proof?" Aaron supplied.
"Well… yes," Sycamore coughed. "At any rate, each bottle comes with specific instructions so I'd recommend you learn them. Knowing how to instinctively apply potions can and probably will save the lives of your pokemon some day." The young professor leveled an uncharacteristically serious look at the man sitting across from him.
"Yes, sir. I have a question, though."
"You don't need to ask if you can ask a question; that's rather redundant, don't you think?"
Aaron flushed a little as the professor chuckled at his expense. "Do potions work on humans?"
"That is a complicated subject, but the short answer is yes and no," he gave a small laugh at Aaron's confused expression and continued, "Potions are made of a wide array of ingredients, some of them extremely rare, but you have to keep one fact in mind: All potions, at their core, simply accelerate the body's natural healing process. Pokemon are much more durable than humans and have a much higher potential for regeneration, especially the likes of starmie and similar pokemon that are capable of the move Recover."
"So potions can help, but like any medicine, cannot exceed the body's natural limits?"
"Exactly! It just so happens that pokemon have much higher natural limits than humans. A standard potion is made up of oran berry concentrate. A super potion uses sitrus berry concentrate as its primary ingredient. For most people, the difference boils down to whether you like the sweet taste of oran berries or the tangy taste of sitrus berries. Both will push a normal human's natural regeneration to its maximum so it really doesn't matter what they choose to drink. However, pokemon can see much better results with a super potion because they have higher natural limits."
"Out of curiosity, what are the other two potions made of?"
"Hyper potions are much more expensive than super potions, not only because they are much more effective on pokemon, but because they are also difficult to craft. Say, how much do you know about berries?"
"I know that there are berries that heal besides oran and sitrus."
"Yes, good enough. In particular, the aguav, figy, iapapa, mago, and wiki berries all have immense restorative properties. However, pokemon that don't like the bitter, spicy, sour, sweet, or dry flavors respectively can suffer from some serious side effects if they consume too much. It's because these flavors are caused by nutrients that can react poorly with the pokemon in question."
"That doesn't make any sense. What does a pokemon's preference in taste have to do with what amounts to a severe allergic reaction?"
"Great question, and the answer is that the two have nothing to do with each other," the professor said with a bright smile on his face. "Confused yet?"
"Very."
"Well, it's not the pokemon's preferences so much as what this preference can indicate about that pokemon's natural diet."
"And by extension, you're saying that some pokemon can have negative reactions to some nutrients in berries they're not used to eating because they are not physiologically capable of digesting these nutrients properly. What can be considered nutrients for one species isn't necessarily true of others due to the sheer diversity of pokemon." 'So what he's saying is that this is a bit like dogs and chocolate, except on a much wider scale.'
"You are much more intelligent than your files indicate, young man."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Let's backtrack a bit to the original topic: hyper potions. They are exceedingly expensive because they must be standardized to apply to all pokemon, without triggering these allergic reactions. For some mysterious reason, Professor Horace Thurgood of Hoen found that these chemicals can balance each other out if combined in minute quantities. He mixed these five berries in small amounts, derived a concentrate, added some preservatives and other stabilizing agents, and created the first hyper potion about 60 years ago. This is why they are so expensive; they require a lot of know-how to create properly. The berries themselves aren't exactly common either. The largest orchards for these berries are all heavily subsidized by the Leagues, but still don't produce nearly enough."
"Woah, note to self: There is good money to be had in becoming a master herbalist."
"Hahaha, it takes a lot of work for that to prove fruitful, pardon the pun." The professor took a long draught of his mug before letting out a contented sigh. "As for max potions, they are the exception to what I said before. I said that potions drive one's natural regeneration to its limits. Max potions are dangerous because they temporarily break this limit. It can be a very good thing and has saved countless lives over the years, but it's not something that can be abused."
"What's the problem with breaking your limits?" 'It's what the Gamer power lets me do.'
"Well, nothing, but the energy for such a thing has to come from somewhere. The max potion includes everything used in a hyper potion plus one crucial ingredient: chansey egg. Chansey egg, when fertilized, is just that, an egg. However, before fertilization, it has the unique property of acting as a universal growth hormone, a hormone so powerful that it suppresses most of the body's metabolic processes in favor of regeneration. This rerouting of the body's energy may not sound like a big deal, but to an injured person who is already low on stamina, it can be fatal."
"I see."
"Anyway, because of the price tag, you likely won't have enough funds to afford a hyper or max potion until you get quite a few badges under your belt. That said, be sure to keep a few potions on you at all times. You never know when you'll need them."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, let us move on to what are often called status ailments…"
Author's Note
I'll try to leave a bit here to talk about the things I write and answer questions. The omake are canon. They are only included as omake because the information provided in them is not critical for the enjoyment of the story.
In game, the berries mentioned above restore ½ of the user's health, but will confuse the user if the user does not like the flavor. I figured this was the easiest way to include a game mechanic and adapt it to a more realistic setting. Scientists identify five tastes: sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and savory. The taste of spiciness is not normally considered one of the five primary tastes, nor is dryness. You will notice that in pokemon, salty and savory are replaced by spiciness and dryness. It's just one interesting example of how perceptions can change across cultures (because alternate universes definitely count as cross-cultural).
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new story. As for the other members of Aaron's team, I'm happy to listen to suggestions, though I reserve the right to ignore them. I'm also a massive nerd when it comes to pokemon and its competitive community, so you can expect a lot of in-depth knowledge about that.
That said, I will make a few promises going into this story, cross my heart. One, I will never inflate or deflate a chapter for the sake of word count. The words, "It's my longest chapter yet" will never come out of my mouth (or page) because that's a load of useless bullshit. Two, I will keep to the rules of the game I set forth. Three, I will respond to all reviews and PMs as timely as possible. Four, I will avoid trashy, baseless romance. If I write about love, the girl (or girls) in question will be significant to the plot. Five, I will do my best to develop the members of Aaron's team as individuals in and of themselves.
That's it for me; thanks for reading.
As always, constructive feedback is appreciated.
Pat reon Sorre