Chapter 1: In which a story begins


There are few things in this world that will excite a ten year old more than the prospect of adventure.

Actually, scratch that. Ten year olds are pretty excitable. There are probably a ton of things that would excite a ten year old just as much, if not more than the prospect of adventure. A swimming pool full of orange soda, for example. Or a rocket-powered skateboard. Or a viking dinosaur that plays bass guitar in a heavy metal band. This list could go on, but as I myself am a ten year old, I am simply too excited by the possibilities to continue.

And so we return to the topic of the day. Adventure. Adventure is what every kid dreams of. Adventure is what turns children into adults. I mean this quite literally; the law states that adventure is the right of passage into adulthood. And so once a year, great researches are required to enlist a large group of ten year olds as temporary aides and send them off towards their coming-of-age adventure. That is why I was rudely awakened one April morning, shoved into some new clothes, kicked out of the house and told to go visit Professor Dogwood.

The infamous Professor Dogwood was widely known to be a genius in his field, the studying of pokémon natures. He could tell the nature of a pokémon simply by looking at it, and then tell you how your pokémon would most likely perform in just about any endeavor. Unfortunately, he was also widely known to not care in the slightest for his employees, and the only help he was able to hire came in the form of the annual batch of often unprepared ten year olds like myself.

Approaching his lab, you could tell the lack of workers. The grass was overgrown and heavily weeded, the windows were dirty, the paint was chipped and there was enough junk lying around the property to supply a large chain of thrift shops for a couple years. I briefly wondered whether or not he would miss anything if it disappeared, before joining a tired and uncomfortable looking group of kids standing in front lab entrance.

"Hey Retta," a blonde standing by a broken bicycle yawned my nickname. This was a neighbor of mine, Elsie Gardener. I shuffled over to her and inspected her outfit before responding.

"You too then?"

She laughed. "Yep, my mom had me in this dress before I knew what was going on... I packed some more reasonable clothes while she wasn't looking though." The dress she was referring to was a pale shade of orange, tight, frilly, and covered in white lace. It was exactly the kind of thing her mother would dress her in, while the more reasonable clothes she mentioned were likely a pair of sweats and t-shirt; her usual attire. She pointed towards my own outfit and said, "Bet your sis dressed you, huh?"

She was correct. My older sister had come home from her adventure a month ago full of wisdom and experience. She suddenly knew exactly what I should be doing at every moment of my life and subsequently began micromanaging me into oblivion. This morning she had come into my room brandishing a bag full of equipment she deemed necessary and the clothes I was currently wearing; a floral print tank and a pair of khakis with enough pockets to carry around an office supplies store. She had then weaved my red hair into a pair of tight braids whilst telling me exactly what my team should be and how I should train them before handing me a book of every map in the world (full of her own annotations) and sending me on my way. I told this to Elsie.

She laughed again; it was pretty much her hobby. "At least you've got someone to call for trainer tips!" She told me. "My parents won't tell me a thing! They just kept saying," she slipped into a deeper voice, "'You'll learn soon enough' or," now a lighter, airier one, "'You'll have to figure that out on your own!'" Her impersonations were spot-on. A couple of the other kids looked around for Mr. and Mrs. Gardener.

Before I could respond, the doors slammed open and a tall man stepped out of the dark lab. The professor casually lit his cigarette and scratched his head before addressing us. "Right, so it's that time of year again..." He sighed. "Okay. You will each receive a pokémon and pokédex from me. Your mission is as follows: You are to catch one pokémon of each species, and record their behavior. This mission will last as long as it takes for you to do so. I expect you to fully evolve each and every one of your pokémon, and you must report back to me with at least one pokémon egg for the next group. If you have any questions, ask someone else." He then pulled a ball of paper out of his pocket and uncrumpled it. "So... when I call your name, enter the lab and choose your pokémon. Joey Adams, Whitney Allen..."

He barely paused between names. Kids scrambled to move through the crowd as they were summoned, pushing other out of the way and causing everyone there extreme discomfort. One by one the crowd entered the building, and one by one they came out again with their chosen pokémon partner. Elsie popped in and out with her Solosis and giggled "I'll wait for you, kay?" as she passed me. It wasn't too long before "Henrietta Reynolds" was called; my turn. I made my way to the front of the thinned crowd and through the doors into the lab.

There were no lights on inside. The room I had entered was full of pokéballs haphazardly strewn anywhere and everywhere. It was as if the professor had just shoved them in a bag as he got them and then dumped them all out. Pokéballs littered the table, the sofa, the floor, the shelves, there was even a couple balancing on top the fan blades. Guess I could just take any one of them and be on my way.

I looked around. Most of the pokéballs were plain, but some were greatballs, heal balls, quick balls, and a few were partially see-through; apparently he didn't care which kind he bought. I could see a Starly, a Tepig, a Wurmple... I didn't really want any of those. Making sure not to trip, I carefully made my way across the room, looking for a pokémon that caught my eye. What was it that Sis suggested? Pikachu? Electric types are really cool, but taking my sister's advice... my eyes landed on a Shinx.

Perfect.

I picked it up and let it out of it's pokéball. It looked confused for a second, then looked up at me and growled happily. Guess it's glad to see me. I checked it's back legs and found them to be solid black; so it's a he. "Should I nickname you or something?" I asked him. He purred in reply. "Alright then. Let's go..." I chose the first name that came to mind, "Fitzgerald." He expressed his feelings about his new name by jumping around my legs and following me back outside.

The professor glanced down at Fitzgerald as he handed my my pokédex. "Jolly nature... high in speed, low in special attack," he mumbled.

"Thanks," I said, though I don't think he was talking to me. And with that, I left.


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