Trainer Chronicles: Operation Hoenn
Prologue
"There have been more and more sightings of Team Magma and Team Aqua these past three weeks," the female news reporter reported. "It appears that they have gone back to their evil ways. But if their last attempt failed, and their ingenious leaders under the protection and watch of the PF, what can they do. To other news..."
"Aaaww…. What do those evil people have to do now?" an old woman said, glaring at her TV. She was dressed in worn out clothing; a dark pink t-shirt and light brown Capri.
"Grandma, you really think they're gonna just let their plans wait till the Hoenn Region is recovered completely?" a young boy said. He had messy, chest-nut brown hair, and was wearing a dirty, wrinkled t-shirt and blue jeans with mud at the knees.
His deep brown eyes shown brightly as he grinned. "You'd have to be outta your mind."
"Well, still. They should have. I mean, they wouldn't like it if we took their Teams down while they were weak!" the old lady countered.
"We stole their leaders while they were recovering from their defeats and threw 'em in jail. Now, before you go make something up, I've got sufficient proof, and I'm not waiting her to hear it. I've gotta finish milking the Miltanks," the boy answered back, before turning around and walking out the door.
The boy walked into his room, dirt all over him from his rumble with the Miltank. I guess kicking them when they're not gonna listen was a bad idea. He thought.
His name was Chase Okea, and he was Fifteen.
"CHASE! TAKE A SHOWER NOW!" his grandmother cried from the bottom floor.
"Yes, oh Grand Mistress of this Household!" Chase answered back.
The sun rose over the horizon, waking the young boy from his slumber. Another miserable day it was going to be. He was fifteen, had no parents, and was being raised by his farmer grandmother who was too old to do the work, although she had enough money for the rest of both their lives. So he worked. All day.
He finished Pokemon School three years ago, so he had nothing to do for the rest of his life but farm. He was sick of this life. Really sick. He needed to do something, but he didn't know what. So, off to work.
He got up, and changed from his green pajamas to his regular black t-shirt and blue jeans.
"T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house-"an old man with graying hair was saying to his brown and off-white zig-zagged Pokemon before he was cut off by Chase.
"It's not Christmas yet you crazy buffoon!"
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I've told you that like, FIFTY TIMES THIS YEAR! GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD. IT'S ANNOYING!"
"Okay. T'was the night before Christmas…"
Chase sighed, as he walked on to the market place in Oldale Town.
Why can't Littleroot have a PokéMart? Chase thought ruefully. Why can't my grandma go?
He walked on. He was staring at the wild life when he saw a trainer battling a pink worm Pokémon with spikes from its tail to the top of its head.
Suddenly, Chase had an idea. He was going to become a trainer. Now, all he had to do was get a Pokemon. But how?
More questions rang in Chase's head as he walked to Oldale Town.