this fanfic is at least 6 years old, so be warned
It had been an average day for all of them. They woke up late, ate leftover takeout for breakfast, didn't bother to bathe and snacked on dry biscuits from a large, fast-emptying tin. Though early afternoon, most of them hadn't really moved much from their sleeping positions of the previous night.
Crystal would have eaten him alive - if she knew.
Basically, their daily routine would be lazing around the apartment, and the first half of this day in particular was spent like any other - just being lazy. Of course, this was just the first half.
Anyways, the Pokemon found this phase of laziness justified. The past few months had been, in his opinion, simply crazy. Mostly thanks to his Trainer, whose endless whining and begging and moaning had gone on for so long that the Pokemon had gotten tired just looking at him.
Sceptile kicked back in his chair, his unique tail waving contentedly. Eventually, his Trainer had succeeded in his… endeavours, and they were now living the life in a middle-class apartment. Well, actually, he had no idea. It could be one of those really cheap apartments that resembled motel rooms for all he knew. Pokemon like him didn't bother with human trivia.
The television screen blurred for a second, and Sceptile rubbed his bleary eyes with his hands, wrist-blades hovering dangerously close to his face. His gaze hadn't left the TV much for the past few waking hours, and the effects were starting to creep up on him. It wasn't healthy, he was aware of that, watching TV for that many hours on a daily basis. But his sharp eyesight couldn't be spoiled as easily as most (at least, he told himself) and he was still awfully fit for a Pokemon-turned-couch potato (again, according to his conscience).
The horribly boring, thousandth replay of some Hyper Rank Contest that took place years ago switched to a documentary on Hoenn's starter Pokemon; a terribly-recorded home video was playing to the narration. In a small pen, a young Torchic scampered about on clawed feet, chirping incessitantly in excitement. Sceptile smirked.
The narrator's mediocre voice droned on about it being among the most researched discovery of its generation or some shit while the Torchic tripped over its own feet and fell into a water bowl. The programme suddenly changed again, now to a live broadcast of a battle between some random trainer and Gym Leader Winona in the Fortree Gym. Sceptile sighed. He'd usually be interested in this kind of show, but watching the challenger release a shivering Breloom onto the arena made him want to curl up and cry somewhere.
Groaning, the Grass-type stretched a clawed foot towards the bed from his sprawled position on the wooden armchair, swiping at the boy lying on the mattress. "Change the channel, change the channel!" he ordered the holder of the remote.
Though he only heard a slew of garbling, for he couldn't understand Pokemon language, he knew the gist of what the starter was trying to say. "Look, Sceptile, I can watch whatever I want! You hogged the TV all day yesterday!" his trainer snapped, pushing the foot away from him.
Emerald had made himself comfortable on the single, springy bed, lying on his stomach and surrounded by empty soda pop cans. He was glowering at Sceptile, clutching the remote controller in his small hands possessively. His hair was in a long ponytail, since keeping his usual hairstyle at home was awfully problematic (it was probably the same case for pants, since he was in his boxers). All his mechanical gear was piled up messily in the corner of the room, abandoned until they were required, leaving a small, growth-stunted 14-year-old kid on the bed.
Eyebrows furrowed, he flipped through the channels at a faster rate than before, more desperate to catch some interesting show so that he wouldn't have to surrender the remote. Pausing for a second every once in a while, he was still unable to find an interesting program. Sceptile grumbled mutinously.
"–reports of drug trade–"
"–S.S. Tidal expanding–"
"Call now and you'll receive a free–"
"–big sale at Slateport Mar–"
"But I love you!"
The starter Pokemon immediately cawed in interest, sitting up straight and staring that the TV screen. Emerald looked from Sceptile to the TV with a disgusted look on his face. "This shit again? Seriously, Sceptile?"
Sceptile shushed him.
The TV began howling, "No, you lie! It is lie! LIIIIEEE–"
The screen went black. Sceptile squawked in surprise.
Emerald set down the remote. "That's enough disgusting shit for one lifetime. Get enough of it from those two."
Snorting in defiance, Sceptile snatched up the controller with amazing speed and flicked the TV back on to show a man running away from his admirer. His trainer stared at him in astonishment, and the starter smirked. Nobody messed with a Sceptile's show, not even their trainer.
Emerald groaned. "Whatever, there's only crap airing nowadays…"
With his starter ignoring him, the blonde boy was now officially bored. Why, yes, he actually had many things to do - sorting out his dirt pellets, cleaning his equipment, doing his hair - but all of them could wait until he achieved motivation to do them. And while he was sure that he was forgetting something, he was convinced that it could wait, too, or else he would've remembered what it was.
"So bored…" he whined, as he played around with Snorlax's Pokeball, rolling it around on the bed. The snoozing Pokemon within didn't stir - even if he released the thing, it wouldn't have awakened.
Emerald groaned. There was nothing (fun) to do, all because of his senior. Crystal gave him quite a long break to get settled into the apartment, and settled he was; about six months' break, maybe even longer. She never told him exactly when she'd need his help again, which didn't help his boring situation at all.
He wondered how she was doing, working as Professor Oak's most trusted and best assistant (though she denied it) without his help. Her daily workload was, and is still legendary in the Pokemon world, although not many knew.
If he hadn't known better, he would think that she was trying to get rid of him from the lab.
Grabbing his Pokenav from its place on the pillow, he decided to give her a call. She hadn't answered him at all for about three months or so, and he had no idea why, but he presumed that she'd been too busy to pick up her Pokegear. But, maybe she needed him now? He selected her name on the list of contacts, skipping a few contacts he never even knew he had. ("Senior Blue…?")
The line rang for a while, but Crystal never picked up her Pokegear; as per usual, it went straight to voice mail. But this time, her voice mail was a lot different than from when he last called her.
"-this how you do the voice mail thingy… AHA! Finally! Hey there, this is Gold from New Bark Town, the hottest Pokedex Holder in existence! If you have a message for Super Serious Gal, don't bother, since she's busy being serious! So serious, she didn't even notice me swipe her Pokegear! I mean seriously it's been like-"
Emerald cancelled the call immediately with a sigh. There wasn't any point in leaving yet another voice mail. Apparently, Crys didn't even have her Pokegear…
Clattering from the kitchen told Emerald that Sudowoodo had dropped something, again. Sounded like a pot. He sometimes wondered why she even bothered to act like some surrogate mother, doing the cooking and all, when she couldn't even get a firm hold on anything without weird green ball things as fingers made that happen a lot - okay, all the time. (Not to mention that both he and Sceptile agreed that they preferred takeout.)
"You okay?" he called anyways. He heard some fumbling and a clank on the kitchen counter, signalling that she was quite fine, thanks.
Now that he thought about it, his Pokemon were always this problematic, and he never really kept a close eye on them. He suddenly looked up and searched around the room. His gaze finally landed on Dusclops, who had opened the window and was 'looking outside' by sticking half of his bulky gray body out of it.
"Dusclops!"
The Ghost-type immediately shrunk back inside, banging his head on the window in the process. (Emerald had long ago stopped questioning why his Ghost-type was solid.) The phantom shuffled away from the window to the corner. Sudowoodo's head peeped out of the kitchen to see what was going on.
The trainer sighed at his most troublesome Pokemon. "I already told you, if you want to go outside, you can!" he admonished, rubbing his temples, "Mantine and Mr. Mime are already out there, doing stuff at the beach. I don't know what, but probably really fun stuff."
Dusclops' single eye drooped, giving him with a guilty look. The Ghost-type had always been a bit immature. But not daring to go outside alone? How old was he? Could ghosts even age?
Sceptile clucked his tongue in annoyance from his comfortable position on the armchair, warning everybody - AKA Emerald - to shut up. There was about to be a smooching scene on TV.
Emerald let out another deep sigh, and decided to let the matter drop. "It's okay." Dusclops brightened up. "I guess it is a little boring just hanging around here for months… maybe we should go out more. Or, we could go out like, now."
Making up his mind on the spot, he headed for the bathroom, giving one of Dusclops' big gray hands a brief pat along the way. He opened the compartment behind the bathroom mirror, which revealed that the small shelves were filled with dozens of hair gel bottles.
"We can try the beach too, maybe beat up some kids' Pokemon…"
He grabbed one bottle at random and untied his long, glossy hair. Dusclops helped take his hairband, standing in the doorway and almost filling it completely.
Then Emerald began the complicated process of styling his hair into the shape of a crescent. It took amazing skill and concentration, mind you.
"You know, Dusclops," he said whilst raking handfuls of gel through his hair, "I really think that I've been forgetting something impor-"
knock knock knock
"Nobody ordered pizza, right?" Emerald called to his Pokemon. He could almost hear Sceptile roll his eyes.
Sudowoodo slipped out of the kitchen, covered in broken eggshell bits, and peered through the door's peeping hole. It was her sudden gasp that alarmed everyone.
"Who is it?" the Dexholder whispered to the rock-type as he and Dusclops exited the bathroom, staring at the door anxiously, as if expecting some mass murderer to burst in any moment wielding a revving chainsaw - or, even worse, a pair of lovey-dovey adolescents. Sudowoodo merely inched away from the door, a nervous look on her face, and he slowly began to suspect the latter.
Emerald crept over, and with a boost from Dusclops, he peeked through the hole to see who it was that scared his Pokemon. Upon seeing the impatient-looking, smartly-dressed man at his doorstep, his head jerked backwards in shock, smashing into Sceptile's curious face.
"Oh shit." Was all he could say. Now he remembered what he forgot.
"Rental."
Dusclops looked confused, and Sceptile clutched his throbbing nose, rolling his eyes. Only Sudowoodo and Emerald seemed to be freaking out.
"I totally forgot that I promised Crys that I'd pay for everything myself!" he whispered frantically. Completely forgetting about his hair which was only halfway done, he quickly went to put on some clothes and his gear.
Sudowoodo put her hands (greenballthings) to her mouth. "Oh no!" she wailed miserably. "My poor, baby orphan trainer… he's being kicked out of his first real home, after months and months of hard labour, blood, sweat and tears to achieve it and I can't do anything, no, Sceptile, what do we do-"
"Shh." Sceptile gave the hyperventilating rock-type a glance. She was overdramaticizing the situation again. "Come on, even if we get kicked out of here, we're already used to camping outside. 'Sides, we could use some drama to spice up our lives. I'm getting restless. Right, Dusclops?"
Dusclops was staring at the door, which the landlord had been knocking away impatiently from the other side.
"Huh?" The Ghost-type asked.
Sceptile nodded, putting a hand on Sudowoodo's shoulder. "See? He agrees with me."
"O-oh, but Rald!" she continued to whine, eyes darting around the room as the boy in question returned to the doorway wearing his clothes and gear. He stared at Sudowoodo questionably for a moment until Dusclops nervously tugged at his sleeve, pointing at the door.
Unaware of his pokemons' conversation, Emerald cautiously twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open. As expected, his landlord was right there, arms crossed and expression unreadable. The tall man looked down at the young trainer.
"Good morning, Mister Emerald…" He drawled, eyes moving from the boy's half-done crescent hairdo to the pokemon trio huddled together behind him. "…and company."
"Yeah, what?" Emerald snapped, annoyed at the man's unimpressed look, albeit still quite nervous, despite the fact he knew what was going to happen. Sudowoodo bonked the back of his head for being rude, while Sceptile chuckled quietly.
"You know what." The man retaliated sharply, before recomposing himself. "It's been quite a while since you promised to pay rent, hasn't it?"
The Dexholder had trouble meeting his gaze. "Maybe, maybe not…"
"Six months, to be exact." The landlord crossed his arms. "I'm going to cut to the chase; this is my final visit, Emerald. Do you have the payment or not?"
"Er." Emerald exchanged awkward glances with his Pokemon.
"Well, not now, I mean, soon, I kinda forgot-"
"Then I'll have to kick you out." Sighing, the man opened up his briefcase on the floor and began picking through some files of paperwork. Emerald groaned internally.
'What do I do?' he thought, 'If Crys hears about this, I'm dead!'
"Can't you postpone-"
"Like I did the past six times? No."
"How 'bout-"
"No."
"A-"
"No."
"Come on! Just give me a little longer!" The boy said desperately, eyes wide in hopes of getting some sympathy.
But the man whom he was pestering remained unfazed, pulling out a handful of papers. He straightened his red tie and looked down at him with a serious stare. "Mister Emerald, you haven't paid a single penny of rent for the past six months. I've given you enough time!"
Panic began to get a hold of Emerald's heart. "No, just wait! I'll get the money from somewhere-"
"No. I'm sorry, but you'll have to find a new place to stay." Shaking his head, the landlord took all his printed documents back and placed them inside his briefcase. Sceptile made a hissing noise, ticked at the man's rudeness, as the short Dexholder broke out into a cold sweat. 'No, no, no!'
"Please! One week! Just one week! I'll give you the full payment!" He pleaded, tugging the man's sleeve with an extendable hand, much to the surprise of his Pokemon. Their shock was justified; normally, Emerald would have too much pride to beg, but this was a very desperate situation. A situation so desperate, he'd have to resort to one of the most desperate measures of all desperate measures. Yes, that desperate.
A snort. "That much money in one week? Please." He shook off Emerald's hand, and held out his own hand, palm open. The boy frowned and reached into his pocket.
"You're talking to a Pokedex Holder-" He tried emphasizing on his Dexholder status, but the landlord seemed indifferent- "-who conquered the Hoenn Battle Frontier, not to mention saved the whole place, in one week." Emerald huffed, putting the keys to his - well, no longer his - apartment in the landlord's hand, who rolled his eyes. "Getting that money will be easy." Sceptile glanced away.
"If it would be so easy, why didn't you pay on time?" The man slid the keys into his pocket, before turning to leave. This guy obviously did not care for his achievements, qualifications or simply amazing hairstyle. Damnit.
"I was busy!" Emerald snapped, fuming silently. It was no lie; he may just be an assistant to an assistant of a famous researcher, but even that position came with one too many responsibilities. 'You'd think a Pokedex Holder would get a little more respect!'
"Haha, sure." He exited the apartment, standing by the door. Sceptile swished his leaf-like tail crossly, the green blades rustling, indicating that the man leave. "Now if you please, pack up your things and be gone by tomorrow morning."
The green-eyed boy said nothing for a moment, his mind on hyperdrive, thinking of a solution. The was simply no way that he could let himself be kicked out of his apartment. Just, no. Hell. No. It would mean the end of him, and the memories would haunt his mind forever.
Sceptile stared at Emerald. 'He's probably overexaggerating the consequences.'
Sweat trickled uncomfortably down his forehead. The ass of a landlord had taken his leave without another word, uncaring of his predicament, walking away with an arrogant stride. Bastard. What to do, what to do? Shit, he's leaving, here's your last chance to bargain-
The words left his mouth before he could actually register what he was saying.
"I'll pay you three times what I owe!"
Well, that captured the man's attention. He stopped in his tracks and glanced back at Emerald, interest apparent in his beady black eyes. Not surprising, with him being such a greedy asshole. Sceptile and Sudowoodo gawked at their trainer in disbelief. Dusclops idly played with the brass doorknob.
Emerald gulped. Whatever he had just blurted out, there was no turning back now, since there was no way he was taking the words back. Although he was unsure of where this was going.
"Three times?"
"That's… that's what I said."
Emerald's oppressor turned around fully to face him, an eyebrow raised and an irritating smile on his face. "And how would I know you aren't just bluffing?"
Emerald knew he was bluffing. "No, I'm not bluffing. I'll get you the money."
It was obvious that the landlord wasn't convinced when he whipped out a small black calculator out of his pocket, punching in a few digits before showing the boy the total. Emerald squinted to see the number.
"…18000 P-PokeDollars." Well shit. "Hahaha, no sweat!"
The man brought his arm back down, eyeing the Dexholder with scrutiny while Sceptile smacked his own face with his clawed hand. Emerald could see that the landlord was still very doubtful whether he would actually deliver the money. To be honest, he himself didn't think so; but there was no way in hell he was retracting his, albeit impulsive, statement. He had already lost nearly all his pride by begging, and he was struggling to salvage whatever he had left. His poor, precious pride.
Sceptile chirped softly, reminding him that he still had to convince the man. The one in question looked about ready to leave, not believing that a fourteen-year-old boy could scrounge up that amount of money in time.
"How about a bet?" Emerald offered, hoping his voice sounded inticing enough. He had betted and won against the whole Battle Frontier, which gave him the idea (not to mention a much needed confidence boost) of making another one. The landlord let out a gruff, 'Hmm?'
"I'll pay you three times what I owe, within a deadline of one month-"
"One week." The landlord interrupted.
"Thirty days?"
"Two weeks."
"Three weeks, alright?!" Arceus, this man was irritating.
"…Fine, continue." He sighed. Emerald rolled his eyes.
"Within a deadline of three weeks… um," The boy put a finger to his chin, thinking. "And then I get to stay in this apartment. For free. Forever!"
"And if you fail to do so," the landlord said almost immediately, a cocky smile on his face, "You move out, and you will be in my debt for the rest of your life until you pay me. And, you'll have to give me all of your hair gel." He ran a hand over his thick, gelled hair, eliciting odd looks from Emerald and his Pokemon.
"I can't find any good quality ones that aren't ridiculously expens… wait."
"…Hahaha…"
A moment of silence.
"Get your stuff and get out of that apartment." Sceptile pushed an angry Emerald inside, who grumpily tossed the few belongings he had (or cared about) into a brown knapsack, including Snorlax's Pokeball. Sudowoodo wasn't helping, trying to cram everything he didn't need inside. He was done in two minutes, and went back outside to the landlord, who was still waiting there.
"…I will drop by to collect all your hair gel at the end of the third week." And with that, the man turned around once more and strode off in a professional fashion towards the stairway. The Dexholder snorted, and Sceptile hissed after him.
"We'll see about that." Emerald grinned at his Pokemon. They all met his gaze with a confused one. "We're the best battlers in Hoenn. We'll just go on over to the Battle Frontier, beat a bunch of suckers, and swim around in a bathtub full of reward money like we always did in the past!"
Sceptile's eyes widened in realization, and smiled along with his trainer. Sudowoodo nodded slowly, Dusclops mimicking her.
This would be just too easy for them!