*~*The Felicities and Fallacies of Pokémon Training*~*
Chapter Third: Great Expectations II
Written by the Duke of Briarcliffe
*~*
Author's Note: All right, here's the new chapter. For those of you who were wondering when Duncan would finally go to the Gym, then today's your lucky day because he will be. I'm sorry if you felt that the previous chapters were a bit superfluous but I, as a writer, thought that building up the characters would be most effective before actually delving into the plot. Our opinions may very on that subject. Well, I hope that you like this. —The Duke of Briarcliffe
*~*
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."—Jane Austen, authoress of the novel Pride and Prejudice
*~*
Well, in this case, the single man, Duncan Beechcombe, was in possession of a great fortune and was not in want of a wife, or even a steady girlfriend for that matter. However, he was in want of an apprenticeship to the Celadon Gym Leader. And he was in want of a future as a Gym Leader. And, although he didn't outwardly admit it, he was desperately in want of some sort of control over his Chikorita, Nasturtium.
The morning after his ass kicking, Duncan awoke as the steady sunbeams poured over his room. Spilling its essence onto him and making him quite warm. Raising up, a sudden pain shot through his backside, and he recollected that he had slept the night through on the hardwood floor. And well...you can imagine how that might feel. The only time he'd done that was when he slept over Madison's house as a child.
He delicately rubbed the areas of his elbows. The skin had been lacerated by the thick green vines and still was chafed and red. His stomach hurt still: Nasturtium had really knocked the wind out of him with that tackle attack. His ankles were no better; he thought he couldn't walk anymore. All in all, she'd inflicted a good amount of damage. Enough to convince him that he hadn't caught the wrong Chikorita, yet enough to influence him to deduce that it would take a while to get through to her.
Reluctant to actually release her again, he contented himself with just staring at the pokéball. The sunlight did a really good job in making it look like a divine object. Mrs. Beechcombe really knew how to make something look appealing to the eye. He chuckled to himself, having not talked to them since his arrival in Celadon.
Deciding that there was no time like the present, he emerged from the pallet of blankets in order to get ready for the day. He planned on making a trip to Celadon Gym and chatting with the Leader, in hopes of scoring an apprenticeship. It was the daily plan.
The warm temperature of the water that stemmed from the silver showerhead felt good to the body. It warmed him down to his feet as he washed away the grime of yesterday's stroll through the City. After brushing his teeth and doing every other morning necessity, he began to sort through his bags for something to wear.
He figured that it would be some sort of class, so he should wear something like her wore the other day. Presentation is key in almost any circumstance. So, with his travel iron, he rubbed over the garments and put them on. He grabbed the immobile sphere and placed it into the pocket of his cargo pants, for he'd not the chance to buy a band for the necklace.
Heading downstairs, he came upon his friend, who was as much awake as himself and drinking another Pepsi. Madison rolled his eyes upon receiving his friend and asked him, "When will you ever learn?"
Duncan shrugged. "It's a class," he said matter-of-factly.
Madison nodded, not wanting to ruin his friend's confidence in what it was when he, having been the son of a Gym Leader, knew everything that could possibly concern a Gym. There are some things that one just has to learn on his/her own. Why stop him now?
"So," Madison casually said, "you're finally going to the Gym?"
"Finally? Waterflower, we've only been here for a day. And yes, I am." He peered into the fridge and frowned upon seeing that the only things there were a six-pack of Pepsi and a six-pack of Vanilla Coke. "We need some food."
"Tell me about it," Madison agreed. He absently tugged at the end of his white t-shirt that read Virgin Mobile: I'm Cheap and I'm Easy. "I haven't seen any grocery stores around."
Duncan squinted at the bright red lettering and the cell-phone with the blue background. "Where do you find those?"
"Random, at the Cerulean Mall. You know... where everything isn't Armani Exchange? It's the best store in the world."
Part of Duncan's right lips went up higher than the left as he said, "I know where Random is and no, everything I own isn't from Armani Exchange...Structure and the Gap are just as fine."
Throwing his hands up in defeat he declared that was the typical prep and walked to the door that led to the outside hallway. "While I'm out I'll get some grub. Won't say that it'll be groceries, but there'll be food here. And, why don't you get a phone while you're out?"
With that said, he pulled open the door and left the loft, leaving Duncan to his own devices. Deciding that Pepsi isn't the best breakfast food, Duncan soon left the apartment.
It was pretty early, maybe 8:47 or so, yet he still pushed on. Who knows? It might've taken him hours just to find the Gym and it wasn't like he had anything better to do than wander around the streets in an attempt to find it. Firstly he needed to find a bus schedule or a map.
He looked around the city. The random convertible or station wagon sped by, probably people rushing to the jobs that they were already late for. A Spearow stood sentinel on top of a streetlight, scanning the environment for a little rat or some other morsel to feed on. The little shops on Bijou Boulevard were beginning to open up shop, turning the closed signs to the open side and flicking on the light switches. The smell of perfume was suspended in the air, almost overpowering in a sense. The scent produced from the various varieties was a sweet one. Duncan believed that if the creators could somehow capture this one scent, it would be of constant demand.
An odd scent at the corner made his nose twitch in curiosity. It was familiar. As he neared the shop, it soon became clear. It was a coffee shop named Café au Lait. He strolled in automatically, drawn to it.
It was small and had the homey feel to it that attracted people from all places to it. Large glass windows lined two of the walls. Chestnut brown couches and armchairs were placed against the windows; cherry oak coffee tables were set in between the chairs. A young boy and a young girl played checkers in one. At the vertex, the corner, where the two walls met was where the beverages were served. Steam billowed from the canisters. The air smelled of vanilla flavoring.
Sitting himself on a cushioned metal stool, he waited to be assisted. In little crates there were raspberry-orange scones and blueberry muffins. In tall glass canisters, there were chocolate biscotti and jelly beans—all of which looked completely appetizing.
A young woman with a black apron on yelled over to another person, a guy with orange hair. "Could you hurry up, Todd? My shift is almost over and I have to go drop off James. I just have to serve this guy right here." Then, she rushed over and asked him what he would like.
"A French vanilla latté, please," Duncan replied.
"Coming right up," she answered. In one fluid movement, she swept up a insolated cup with the Café au Lait insignia on it and placed it under a faucet that streamed out the opaque liquid. Then, twirling the vanilla flavoring she was a bartender, she pushed the nozzle and the flavor was squirted into the cup. She slammed it down onto the counter and told him the price. He delved into his wallet and produced a five, and she hurriedly gave him the change.
Then, she rushed out of the store, hanging up her apron and hat on a hook near the door. Duncan regarded her figure as she retreated and wondered who James was and why she was in such a hurry to drop him off wherever it was that he had to be dropped off at. He shrugged his shoulders and removed himself from the seat, and walked from the door.
*~*
Celadon Gym had been vastly renovated since the devastating fire a few decades ago. The blazing inferno had completely destroyed the grassy are that was the arena, damaged textbooks, and ruined the stores of unique perfumes. The gym now took on a greenhouse persona, but the difference is that, you can't see into it, but from the inside, you can see out of it. There were three separate zones: the deciduous forest area, the tropical forest area, and an area especially devoted to flowers and other plants that could be used for medicines. It was located in the North Bubble. Basically, it was a large dome with four smaller, yet still proportionally large, domes branching off of it. In the East Bubble, the perfume was made and it where the pokémon were kept. The Leader's office was there also. In the South Bubble, there were the classrooms. And in the West Bubble, there was the exercise room. The middle dome, called the Atrium, was where the Gym Matches and some of the classes were held, as well as the personnel.
Duncan strode through the automatic doors and to the large counter where the receptionist resided. From what he could see, she had on a tan vest with a green t-shirt; the name Rebecca was embroidered on the left chest-pocket. Short brown hair fell to her shoulders. She smacked loudly on some gum as she watched TV through her portable television. She barely noticed that Duncan was standing there.
"Hello."
No response; just incessant smacking.
"Hello?"
Still no response.
"Hello! Miss!"
She jumped up like ten feet into the air and clutched her heart. Her breath frantic, she asked, "What do y—Welcome to the Celadon City Gym. I'm Rebecca, how may I help you?" Her voice was much too pristine and chipper.
"That's more like it," Duncan grumbled before he too perked up and said. "I would like to meet the Gym Leader."
She stared blankly at him. Then she performed a gesture with her hand going up in the air and that involved her shaking her head. He was a bit confused so he remained silent.
"Well?"
He frowned. "Well, what?"
She groaned. "You must not be from around here." Then, in a deliberately slow voice she explained: "Here in Celadon City we have two Gym Leaders. Well, not exactly. But it is run by a mother and her daughter. The mother is named Erika and she's been the primary Gym Leader for many years, ever since she was twenty. She mainly just teaches the work that involves books. Her daughter, Aerin, is the official Gym Leader. She handles all of the matches and the physical side of the classes. Now," she said, leaning forward to look him in the eyes. "Who do you want to see?"
"I'm want to obtain an apprenticeship."
She quirked a brow. He definitely isn't around here. Nobody talks like that. Her eyes scanned his studious attire, from the crisp shirt to the un-scuffed shoes, minus that dark stain in the middle. And nobody dresses like that either.
Her perusal of him in the way that she was doing it made him feel positively uncomfortable. He unconsciously tensed up and his ears felt like they were on fire. The fire was beginning to spread towards his cheeks when someone intervened.
"Rebecca! Why are you staring at him like that?" The voice was decidedly soft and feminine. And she didn't sound that young but not too old: middle-aged, probably in the mid-forties. Duncan turned around to face the source of the voice. Relief flooded through his body.
The woman smiled, a cheeky smile. Her cheeks glowed, showing that she was healthy. A bright pink headband shone like a golden halo—meaning that she was an angel. She had such a positive aura about herself. Her hair was still dark blue, cobalt blue, and not gray. She was kind of tall, about 5'8" or so and she donned a pair of khaki chinos and a tan vest much like Rebecca's.
"Mrs. Watercress! I didn't know that you were there!"
She grinned sweetly. "If you're going to flirt, then stop being so forward about it."
"Me? Flirt with him?" she bit out. "I'm sorry Mrs. Watercress but he is not my type."
"That's what they all say, Rebecca. That's what they all say," she repeated. Then she turned to Duncan. "What brings a handsome young man like yourself here?"
"Oh, hi," he said, scratching his head. He extended his hand. "I'm Duncan Beechcombe and I'm here to ask if I can study under you."
She touched her heart. "Really? I'm honored that you would choose to come here out of all the other Gyms. Tell me now, what is your purpose in this, Duncan?"
"I would like to become a Grass Pokémon Gym Leader. And, in order to become one of the best, one has to train under the best. And I here, that you're the best Gym Leader around here."
"Well said, Duncan. I'm impressed that you called me the best, but really, my daughter, Aerin, is much better. I'm past my prime as far as pokémon training goes." She smiled self-deprecatingly.
"Of course you aren't Mrs. Watercress. A fine wine only gets better with age," he replied.
"I'm touched. You know just what to say. I think that I wouldn't mind having you as a student. But, unfortunately, today's the day when Aerin takes over."
"Oh."
"Don't be discouraged. You just have to fill out a few forms for me and give me a down payment for your enrollment. After that, you can go to the Atrium and meet my daughter. I'll be right back."
She then disappeared behind a corner, leaving Duncan all alone. He found his way to a chair and sat there, twiddling his thumbs. A smug smile displayed on his face, he looked around the room. Rebecca was staring at him with her eyes narrowed.
"Suck up," she grumbled as she busied herself with some paperwork behind the counter. A tendril of hair peeked over her head as she let out a loud sigh.
He rolled his eyes. She wouldn't know about student material if it kicked her in the ass. He quickly canceled that assumption upon the remembrance of last night when his ass was kicked—by a pokémon, by a Chikorita—by Nasturtium. His heart raced.
Moments later, Erika strode into the personnel room and gave him a manila portfolio with his name on the tab in a thick permanent marker. He quickly filled out the sheets with a provided pen and paid all of the fees in full with his debit card. It came to about $375 in all.
"Well," she gasped, surprised that he had paid the fees automatically, as if it didn't matter. It didn't. He was just so wealthy, after all. "I'll lead you to the Atrium. Follow me, young man."
He stood up and followed her. They passed long windows that contained replicas of various grass pokémon and of the different perfumes and colognes that the Gym manufactured. The walls were lime green on one side and blue on the other. When they arrived at the Atrium, Duncan found that the walls were pink and yellow—very girly.
There, in a small circle, was a group of young people. All of them were females. And they were all chatting freely. The colors of their hair reminded Duncan of the rainbow—red, orange, yellow, green, violet, and blue. It made him feel a bit uncomfortable knowing that he was the only guy.
As if on cue, every head in the room turned to face him, like they were all Hoot-Hoots. Their intense looks made him feel like he was in seventh grade again. All of those eyes upon him at once; it was enough to make anyone feel awkward.
"Hey girls," Erika said cheerfully. "You all have a new friend. His name is Duncan Beechcombe." No reply. "Don't all say hello at once, it might be overwhelming to him." Silence. "Aerin Watercress! I've taught you better than that. Now what do you say when there's someone new?"
"Mom!" a young woman cried. She sighed as she got up from her place on the springy grass turf, her head down. She was only about 5'5", average height. Her hair was the same cobalt blue as her mothers, as were her eyes. It tumbled down to well past her shoulders; a silver barrette shined brightly in the sun that was visible through the glass roof. On her slim body was a pair of faded overalls and a small baby-tee under that. "Hi, I'm Aerin. Welcome to Celadon Gym." She lifted her head to face him, a tinge of scarlet blooming in her cheek.
"I'm Duncan, pleased to meet you."
He observed the little group until his eyes fell onto a pair of girls that were giggling their little hearts out. Another girl smirked out loud and shook her head. He recognized her. She was the girl from the Pokémon Center. What could she be doing here?
Erika backed away. "Make him feel at home, girls."
"Bye Mrs. Watercress," the chimed sweetly.
Once she was gone, Aerin hurriedly sat down. She patted the ground beside her. "Make yourself at home, we're just talking about our pokémon. Take a seat." She was nice enough, unlike the others.
He half-smiled.
"Oh, you better get him a seat. He's too good to sit down on the grass," the girl from the Pokémon Center told Aerin. Her hair was the color of honey. Two massively curly tendrils of hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her teal eyes glinted as a snarl curled on her lips. Her skin look soft and tan, although not the color tan one would get from the Sun.
"Yeah," another girl with red hair joined in. "Wouldn't want to ruin those shoes or those khakis with a grass stain."
He suddenly felt very self-conscious. His cheeks went from lukewarm to hot as insults were piled up into a heap. He wanted to leave. People were no different here than they were while he was in school.
"Enough, girls! Look, you're making him blush. Come on Imagen, how would you feel if you were new?" Aerin defended him. Duncan's heart welled with relief.
Imagen, the blonde, sneered at him. "Look who's blushing now, Aerin."
Aerin cheeks flushed an even deeper red. "Imagen," she growled. "Come on Duncan, take a seat. Don't mind Imagen, she's a bitch." She grinned. "I'm just kidding, Imagen; but you can be at times."
"Whatever, Aerin," she said in a mock-angry voice.
He reluctantly sat down on the ground. He should've taken Madison's advice after all. The khakis were not a good choice.
"So," Aerin began. "Where's your pokémon?"
"Yeah," all of the girls joined in.
"He probably doesn't even have one," Imagen grumbled as she folded her arms in disgust.
"Do you two know each other?"
"He was at the Pokémon Center yesterday, looking for Nurse Joy. He probably just wanted to brag about his family to her because that's what he did with me," she responded.
"I wasn't—"
"You were," she interrupted.
"I do have a pokémon. A great pokémon," he defended himself. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold and silver pokéball.
"That's just the ball," Imagen said, unaffected. "Now show us the pokémon."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Gladly." With that he said—"Pokéball, go!"—and the ball fell in front of him. It opened.
But nothing was there.
A chorus of laughter ensued. Even Aerin couldn't help but join in.
"Pitiful," Imagen said.
*~*
Concluding Statements: So, did you enjoy this chapter? I'm sorry this wasn't as funny in the last, but I had to get the introduction over with. If you want to, you can give me the names of the girls and their pokémon in your reviews. That would help a lot. Remember, they all have to be grass pokémon too. (In a dramatic, announcer's voice) Where's Nasturtium? Will Duncan ever fit in? Find out in the next chapter of The Felicities and Fallacies of Pokémon Training! —The Duke of Briarcliffe