You know what's easy? Pokemon battling. At least for me anyway. Maybe it's because I've been battling my whole life, but I've always been able to easily win most battles. This isn't to say that the road to the league was easy, I've lost many friends-But I've made new ones I suppose. It's... Bittersweet.
when I found Dutch he was dying, for how much meat he had on his bones he might as well have been dead. Shivering in a trash can, mange destroying his coat, and suffering from extreme malnutrition he struggled his feet and growled. So I did the natural thing, I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and shoved him into my book bag. I had just caught my first Pokemon.
The ease of my first "catch" wasn't because of my latent skills as a trainer, but merely because Dutch, at the time, was too weak to put up any resistance. He probably hadn't eaten in days. This wasn't surprising though, with humans expanding their towns Pokemon had to learn how to survive in the city or die. Morbid as it seemed, this was just, in its basest form, another form of natural selection.
In any case this houndour was just a pup, it couldn't have been expected to survive on its own anyway. I had seen it before, crippled pidgeys and broken rattata dying in the alleys, the slums of a city like this could break Pokemon easily, and humans even easier.
Securing the straps of my bag tightly around my shoulder, I pulled my hood on and walked briskly out of the trash filled alley I had been standing in. Angling my body south I practically jogged home. It was getting late, and in this part of town being out after dark got you robbed or killed... or raped.
Hugging the walls I made my way to my house quickly and quietly. With the light quickly receding darkness began stretching its long fingers over the streets. Hastening my pace I turned onto my street and practically ran to the small apartment I shared with my older sister above the eZ-mart. After Fumbling with my keys for a few seconds I jammed them into the locked door and entered my building. Closing the building's front door I sighed in relief. I had managed to avoid trouble on the streets. In this town I owed a few people money, and they would find a way to take it, even if I didn't have money... They were very creative.
A pitiful squeak arose from my bag, reminding me why I had been made late in the first place. Climbing the stairs to my unit I pulled the weak pup from my bag. It's fur was matted and dirty and suffering from mange. It had a scar on one eye and was definitely missing a few teeth. My new Pokemon was truly an ugly sight, but even in its weakened state it looked proud, his small horns forming a sort of regal crown.
I held him gently in my arms as I ascended the stairs and unlocked my front door. Craning its neck it faced me and released what would have been a flamethrower, but in his weakened state it was no more than a cloud of smoke.
"good thing our fire alarm is broken," I said with a slightly crooked grin. Looking at the swirls of smoke still floating around my head I said, "from now on I'm gonna call you Dutch." All I received in response was a growl."I guess you're pretty hungry huh?" I walked over to my tiny kitchen and pulled open the fridge. There wasn't much, just some milk, some assorted vegetables and ketchup. My sister loved ketchup... Sighing I closed the fridge and opened the freezer. In it was 4lbs of frozen ground beef and a small tub of pistachio icecream.
I looked at the small dog Pokemon, grabbed the ground beef and asked, "you eat this stuff right?" i recieved another growl. "guess that's a yes."
I turned around and walked two steps to the microwave and poped the chunk of beef into it. As I waited I looked into my reflection in the floor tiles. I was tall and gangly, and all around awkward. My brown skin looked darker in the murky reflection of the tiles and my nappy black hair looked almost non-existent. I suppose the only good feature of my body was my eyes. They were a deep hazel with flecks of gold. Naturally my physique tended to attract bullies, but after a few encounters they learned not to mess with me. I wasn't a particularly good fighter so when two guys tried to jump me after school I picked up metal pipe up off the ground and smashed one of them in the face. the other guy left his friend and ran. I didn't feel bad, I soon learned that in these streets, unlike the Pokemon battles I saw on tv, anything goes...
I returned my gaze to the microwave. 30 seconds.
"I swear microwave minutes move slower than normal minutes," I mumbled impatiently.
Dutch, apparently figuring that he was safe for the time being rested his head on his paws. Through a lidded eye he followed my movements around the room lazily but carefully. At the sound of the beep he raised his head in alarm and let out another growl.
"chill out, it's just the microwave." I walked over and pulled out the now defrosted meat.
Turning on my heel I walked over to Dutch and placed a good sized chunk of the meat in front of him. Neither of us moved, to my surprise Dutch, despite how invariably hungry he had to have been, didn't touch the meat. "c'mon, it won't bite," I said, nudging the meat closer to him.
Dutch almost seemed to roll his eyes, if Pokemon could speak I feel like he would have said something similar to 'no shit'. I realized that he wasn't eating not because he was scared, but something deeper. Was he too proud? I wasn't quite sure.
"well I'm not going to leave you alone untill you eat it," I said as I arched my eyebrows.
Dutch cocked his head to the side, appearing to consider the ultimatum. Finally he bent down and snapped up the slab of grounds beef I left on the floor. After the first tentative bite, he ravenously gobbled the rest and looked at me impatiently for more, his eyes flicking to the remaining meat in my hand to my face then to the ground -untill then I had always thought Pokemon were animals that were just good at following orders, but this houndour, as well as many of my other Pokemon, seemed to show a higher level of intelligence compared to a normal animal. Some of them are without a doubt smarter than me- laughing I tore off another chunk, this one slightly larger, and tossed it to Dutch. He snapped it out of the air before it reached the ground and swallowed it. I continued this for a few minutes, trying to make Dutch eat slowly so he wouldn't throw it all up again. Once I had exhausted my supply of meat he turned his head away, as if tired of my presence.
"we aren't done yet," I made a grab for the scruff of his neck, but he twisted out of my grasp. "c'mon! You smell like shit, you need a bath!" if he at that point knew what a bath was, he hated it. His upper lip curling, he backed away slowly.
"I won't hurt you, c'mon," I cooed as I edged closer to the still wild houndour in my living room. He stopped growling at the softness in my voice but his upper lip remained curled. Making no sudden movements I bent down and slowly scooped up the skittish houndour into my arms. "so... How am I supposed to wash a fire type?"
Several hours and canine bite marks later I had succesfully completed washing and brushing Dutches coat. He was skinny, malnourished, still a tad bit mangy, and missing an eye yet he still seemed almost regal in is bearing. This observation meant little to me. At the time I nevef cared about a pokemon's outer appearance (besides basic hygiene) if it helps it win. So as far as I was concerned as long Dutch could fight I would be fine with whatever he looked like.
I smiled as Dutch let out a surprisingly adorable yawn, pawed at the living room carpet for a bit and curled into a ball. The rise and fall of his tiny rib cage gradually slowed untill he was asleep. At this moment my sister unlocked the front door and stepped into the living room.
"damn work was such a pain in the ass tod- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" she bellowed loud enough to hurt my ears.
"it my new pokemon-"
"You can't have a fucking Pokemon! Mr. Trowel will kick us out. We can't afford to find another place!"
"well that's why I'm leaving on my Pokemon journey."
"what?"
"I'm-"
"are you fucking stupid?"
"I-"
"do you know how dangerous it is to leave the fucking city? If you think I'm gonna let you do that shit you really are fucking stupid."
"I've been waiting for a chance like this my whole life and now I've got a Pokemon. What if I get big? I'll be able to get us out of this dump." Dutch, haven awoken from his short nap, picked this moment to growl as if in agreement.
The lines in her face softened, rather than angry she looked defeated. "so you're just going to leave me?"
"I won't be gone forever... Just a while. And you'll be able to see me on the television anyway." I lowered my voice attempting to be soothing. My sister wasn't one for emotional outbursts but ever since our parents had died two year prior, she had been a bit... unbalanced.
"when are you leaving?"
"as soon as Dutch is healthy enough to fight. So maybe a week or so"
"you named it Dutch?"
"yeah... Look I-"
"you're almost 18, you can make your own decisions." with that she turned around and walked slowly to her room and shut the door.
I returned my gaze back to Dutch who was once again curled into a tight ball napping.
2nd story ive started. gives meh feed back!
dex enthry #1 houndour: the dark pokemon. Houndour are known for their aggressive behavior. They often pick fights with much larger pokemon using the noxious chemical flames produced in their bodies to do battle. their flames are said to leave burns that never heal. houndour are willful and such hard to train, and most are very..."forthcoming"... with their flames. As such houndour and their evolutionary lines are not popular choices for beginning trainers despite their abundance in parts of Johto.