First let me say I don't own anything related to pokemon in a legally binding sense.
This story has been eating away at my brain for a couple of months now. It's still very much a work in progress. I am designing a lot of things from the ground up for it. Unlike some stories I have run into that have used a similar approach I will not be making up any new pokemon. The basis for this tale is pretty simple – what if pokemon existed? How would the world be different if pokemon replaced a large portion of the animals and plants we were used to, and if trainers, battling and contests replaced celebrities, organized sports and beauty pageants (as well as other similar activities.) That is not to say those things do not exist, but what if the pokemon related activities were on par with them in our world. So yes, this does not take place in a region from the games, but instead in our world. Trainers exist all over the world, and the primary part of this tale will center around the USA. I've had to revamp gyms, I have given them dual types and placed them in cities around the country that make sense, such as Pittsburgh for a Steel and Ground type gym. My idea for the Elite Four is similar to the Olympics, held rarely and has international competition between the best trainers from each country.
Because training is meant to be seen as a position of some fame, it must be earned accordingly. It is also not given to just anyone. It always irked me that ten year olds were running around with monsters capable of laying waste to a small village, as such that portion has been redesigned as well. Trainers are evaluated under strict conditions, they essentially apply for the job. It is also unlikely to succeed in your application by yourself, you normally require a backing from a company or you need to submit applications as a Team. This story will introduce and follow a group of seven trainers. The focus of each trainer exceeds my own work, to make each of them as unique as possible I have collaborated with friends to give each more depth and personality. In some cases this may mean a certain tale has a Co-Author and I will try to give them credit where it is due.
Chapter 1 – Beginnings (A New Troupe)
Time: 9:00 PM (Present)
Place: Forest
A fire crackles in the middle of a camp ground. Tents line the perimeter of the firelight, and seven people sit on logs surrounding the flame. Seven more figures sit near these people, these figures have strange shapes and seem to act as pets to the person nearest to them. The forest is dark, quiet and still. Around the campfire the people are telling a story, a story they all share. Each storyteller adding a little more from their own experience, each adding their own color to the picture the words paint on the nocturnal canvas. The first person begins...
Time: Morning (Past – 3 years ago)
Place: Home
"So tired..." A yawn breaks up the first thought of the morning. Slowly the young man rises from his bed. Long, unkempt hair falls around his face, but a small smile is growing as he wakes up.
"Today. Finally, it's today. Shower, call people, eat something..." The young man mumbles more to himself as he makes his way to the bathroom to clean up. Planning out the course of what should be the beginning of a very important "adventure."
Freshly showered, the young man picks up his cell phone and begins to dial – time to rally the troops.
"WAKE UP!" Some of the friends are already up, some are rudely surprised. "We've got an hour to be there, it's finally today, we finally made it!"
Each one of these young men applied for this opportunity over three years ago. The drawing is national and the participants are exorbitant. Each year since the young men have entered into the drawing, and each year they have failed. Until this year.
This year the men were finally chosen, among those in their district to represent the hard work, dedication and responsibility of being a trainer. Each young man will receive today, in formal ceremony, the starter they have chosen for their very own.
The requirements are fairly simple. A moderate education, a proof of workmanship, and a formal letter recognizing responsibility and discipline. In the end all were easy to acquire by the young men, and need only be updated and resent each year to show further interest in becoming a trainer.
In all these young men's lives there has been one common goal for many years, to become trainers. To live the rigorous and rewarding life, filled with excitement and competition, of a trainer. Each one of the young men has been planning for as long as they can remember regarding his training experiences. How each day will begin, how each day will end, how each week will progress, and each month will see them rise in standing and skill. How each adventure would bring them closer to their partners, friends, and other trainers. When the young men finally became eligible for entry they did so with soaring spirits.
These spirits were crushed when they all received rejection notices that year. The next two years they received more rejections notices, always the same form letter explaining how they could re-submit their information for approval next year and to have a good day and good luck. Finally, this year they achieved the first step of their goal. They would come to see that it was not the first step they had taken, but it was instead more like opening a door and being held in shock by the amount of options now before them. No, they had not taken a step with acceptance, only been shown how many more paths were available than they ever thought possible.
What is a trainer? Why work so hard for these goals? Who are these young men? The latter first.
These young men are named Thomas, Tobias, Joshua, Dom, John, Simon and Cameron. Each is between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-five, presently, and eighteen to twenty-two in this introduction. They all passed some extent of formal education, they all worked honest jobs, they have all been friends for over seven years. Their goals were all different before knowing one another and none originally had the hopes of one day being a trainer. It's not important now what particular event may have led this group to change and devote themselves to a common cause, right now they are interested in talking about a different old story. What is important, is that without each other there is no way it could have been realized. Without a group to enter the registration the chances of success are much lower. Only for rare cases has a lone trainer been accepted and awarded a starter on their own. Groups, however, enter quite commonly. Proving themselves through a diverse number of skills and some form of social unity, whether it be discipline, training, or friendship. Some groups become "Trainer Teams" similar to professional sports teams. Other groups are people who signed up to work with those sharing similar interests, and have been paired to best suit their psychological and physiological methods. The most diverse teams, the most random teams, are those based on friendships. The level of unity gives them a much larger natural variety, at the same time these groups are the most chaotic and in some cases the most likely to fall apart over time. Maybe not out of malice, but instead selfishness.
Trainers must be dedicated to improving personally, as well as improving their partners. However, those partners are not always other people. Those partners are usually what are known as Pokemon. To explain what a pokemon is is nearly impossible, because it would be like trying to explain what an animal is or what a plant is or what a rock is. Not only that, but also like trying to explain what a person is or why they act and think and feel the way they do. Each pokemon is unique, like each person. And like each person, there are pokemon that are similar to each other and those that are drastically different. In size, shape, color, and personality. So how do trainers know which pokemon they want to train? That is what the analysts and judges work to determine for new trainers. Each trainer is given a variety of personality tests and extensive interviews. Starters weren't always determined like this but the days of choosing at random have fallen away to help give rise to more person-to-pokemon relations. In other words, pokemon enthusiasts got tired of new trainers hurting and abandoning their starters and wanted to find a way for trainers to always have at least one loyal and like-minded pokemon.
All of this and more rattles around inside Thomas' mind as he reads the brochure given to each of the people attending the award ceremony. Primarily, it's a lot of bunk. Fluff built up to help encourage use of the contests for awarding starters. Individuals don't just go around handing out pokemon to new trainers in hopes that the two will go together instantly. Though there may have been some level of fun in actually working with and struggling with a new pokemon, there is sure to be plenty of that when trainers begin their new lifestyle. Looking up, Thomas sees all of the winners of this year's contest for the area. Over fifty new trainers. They will be broken down into further groups and awarded in their teams. Expediting the awards process is necessary or it could turn into a riot if trainers began loosing new pokemon around each other in the middle of the ceremony.
"As of today you will begin to accept a responsibility that this committee has deemed you worthy of undertaking. You will represent your hometown and yourselves on the path to great things, whatever it is you may choose to do with your pokemon." The screen over the stage panned out and a clear view is given of the arrangement of trainers sitting in fold out chairs at the center of the stadium. One by one the Teams are called to the stage, the screen zooms in on each group as they approach the side of the stage. There they wait to be called individually to receive their starters. The trainers all knew how it worked even without the practice session last weekend, they had all watched televised events just like this for the past three years, the difference now their names would get called and they would get pokemon of their own.
"Locust Pack." Finally. The group of young men ascend the stairs around the stage and stand together sharing a collective and growing grin and pride. Their image is projected overhead to all the attendees within the stadium. Standing under the lights, rows of cameras following them, and people cheering their praises.
"Members of Locust Pack, you have been formally accepted as trainers. Do you accept this honor?" The old man behind the mic extends his gaze from the young men to all the stadium while an assistant removes a clear plastic pokeball holder from the cart, seven pokeballs held fast waiting for the hands of their partners.
The young men speak immediately, loudly, and in unison. "We do!"
"Approach and receive your official starters. These are your pokemon, awarded by the judges and National Pokemon League facilities nationwide. First, Dominic, Garrett. Your starter, Eevee." The balls are picked up one by one, and handed to the trainers as they approach.
"Thank you."
Garret Dominic, Dom to his friends, is one of the shorter of the group. Standing a little over Simon and a little under Thomas, and proportioned to look like small brick wall, Dom is muscled from his years of practicing and teaching martial arts. His hair is dark and curly falling onto his forehead, he rarely accumulates much facial hair. Known for wearing shorts regardless of any conditions, rain or shine, sleet and snow, and also for almost never getting sick thanks to his iron stomach. There are few people that can down as much caffeine as Dom, drinking some amount carbonated sugar with almost every meal, and also maintaining a supply of assorted candy in his everpresent backpack. Today he surprised everyone just by showing up in a pair of nice pants, concealing a pair of shorts underneath, and a white button down dress shirt making him look like a muscular butler.
"Lamont, John. Your starter, Charmander."
"Thank you."
John Lamont is roughly six foot four and his head of dark hair is usually covered in a black ball-cap bearing white "W." Dressed normally in t-shit and jeans he looks like someone that has done labor jobs in his life, large arms, legs and a barrel chest. He keeps a neat trimmed goatee of black hair on his chin, and a complimentary mustache furrows his lip. Walking on stage he waves to the crowd and give a big grin. In an orange dress shirt and black dress pants he seems to absorb the spotlight momentarily, before graciously accepting his pokeball and moving to the opposite end of the stage to wait for his team members.
"Moon, Tobias. Your starter, Dratini."
"Thank you very much."
Tobias Moon stands a head over most men and has short cropped, light brown hair. He looks like he should have been born to a farmer and has the face of a down home boy. Normally dresses in a pair of beaten up jeans with a flannel button down over a casual T. Though criticized often for seeming "country" he takes it well and in stride. His compassion for the well being of others is apparent, and he is always willing to help. As he takes the stage he is wearing a white, long sleeve button down with gray slacks, he shortens his wide gate to take the stairs one at a time and shakes hands with the speaker as he takes his pokeball.
"Parker, Joshua. Your starter, Doduo."
"Thank you."
Joshua Parker is a thin young man, a mop of dark hair on top, rarely more than stubble on his face. Usually keeps to a generally neutral look as though he is always thinking or entranced. Though he does not vocalize many thoughts or plans he has a very analytical mind. Usually dressed in tan or khaki colored shirts and pants he looks almost professional when he is not hunched in thought. His reflexes are quite quick and he is slow to anger. Today he is dressed in a button down, light blue over shirt and dark gray slacks.
"Stephenson, Cameron. Your starter, Wooper."
"Thank you."
Cameron Stephenson is of moderate height and build, about five foot nine and a little bulky. His limbs are a little too long for his body and his skin still holds a faint tan from his earlier years living along the beaches in Florida. Though it has faded now his skin is still darker than the rest of the group's, and he likes to keep himself outside and enjoying the sun when he can. Though not particularly athletic there is not much fat on his body, and his legs stay decently exercised from running. He came on stage with a wide grin and a rare choice of a sea green button down, if untucked, shirt and dark blue slacks, without a belt.
"Wagner, Thomas. Your starter, Sneasel."
"Thank you."
Thomas Wagner appears as a tall young man, approximately six foot. He wears thin rimmed glasses, black t-shirts and dark cargo pants on most days. He is Caucasian, with hazel eyes and long brownish blond hair held back in a pony tail, he usually has at least a thin, dark brown beard from "forgetting" to shave. He does not smile often, but is usually smirking due to his sarcastic nature. Straight faced with only a day or two's facial hair, Thomas came on stage wearing a black polo and black slacks, looking eerily like a priest with a day off.
"Wilde, Simon. Your starter, Croagunk."
"Thank you!"
Simon Wilde is a short, round young man. He always looks like he's fresh from a fight he didn't win. Disheveled hair, short and dark brown hanging around his eyebrows constantly being moved away, wrinkled clothes that appear to be well worn and traveled, and usually a fresh scab or scrape or cut somewhere on his arms or legs. Though he keeps himself clean shaven and can act quite professional Simon always seems to get short staffed by his appearance. A more loyal and trustworthy friend you may never find, now if only he could find an ironing board. Doing his best to be presentable Simon was clean of face with a red button down shirt and dark brown slacks, looking clean pressed for a change. Though short sleeves did little to hide the fresh scab on his elbow and bruise on his upper arm, as well as that annoying lock of hair he could not seem to keep from falling over his left eye.
Each of the members took their seats once more, it was difficult enough to sit back down much less to listen to the last part of the speech before they were dismissed.
"Congratulations new trainers! With this final addition your acceptance is complete, these are your pokedexes," Stadium personal made their way through the crowd of trainers handing out what appeared to be red flip phones, "use them wisely and handle them with care. These are the tool of the trainers, because knowledge is a great tool and a wonderful resource, each of you will now have the ability to examine and record data about pokemon you have encountered." Flipping open his pokedex, Thomas looked at the display. A soft blue and gold glow appeared on the screen and a symbol shaped like trees in a v-formation, the symbol of Forest Labs, formed in the middle while the device loaded. The small keyboard underneath was a crisp black and white, and a large, white roller was on the left side apparently for viewing long lists of information. "You are also recommended to submit your pokedex to a yearly review, wherein any new or proven data may earn you special rewards from the committee. Now, you are officially trainers. . ." Noise deafens the trainers and lights blind them as they finally stand center stage and pictures immortalize their feelings and realized dreams. The new door had swung open, what lay waiting for them now?