Chapter 2 – Character Creation and Sensible Starters

One quick note to head off certain comments that have been raised by many times in response to this chapter and the next: This world isn't meant to be 'realistic' in a gritty, grim, or bloody sense. Other 'realistic' pokemon stories throw game mechanics out the window in favor of, in essence, magic animal battles. Sort of like the anime. But this story is meant to be 'realistic' despite all the outlandish game mechanics actually existing within it. So, yeah. Don't be surprised about turn-based battles, health points, and so on.

Outside the train station, the light of the sunrise shone upon a large sign that read:

'WELCOME TO PALLET TOWN'

Finally here, the boy thought.

The train hadn't actually taken all night to get to Pallet, but the passengers didn't have to get off until 7:30 AM, a good thirty minutes before the station opened to admit new customers. The train had a strict 'All pokémon must be kept inside their Pokéballs at all times, thank you' policy, so it was only him standing there at the moment.

Now, to find Professor Oak. But first...

The boy released his Meowth from their balls. He set them to searching for Items while he searched for the lab.

Pallet was much larger here than in the games, but it was still small enough that he could see most of the town from where he stood. He pinpointed what was probably his destination well off in the distance, but it took almost an hour before he finally stood in front of one 'Pokémon Lab/Ranch/Prairie, Property of Samuel Oak'.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it slid open automatically on his approach, making a noise that probably alerted the occupants to his arrival. I guess this place is more open to the public than I thought it would be.

He walked inside, then up to the service desk. He rang the small bell on top of the desk and waited a few minutes, then rang it again. He was about to ring it a third time when a young man in a lab coat opened the door behind the desk.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," said the man. He set down a stack of papers on the desk, then shifted his attention to the visitor. "What is it?"

"I'd like to see Professor Oak," the boy requested politely. "I'm a new Trainer."

The man gave him a critical once-over with his eyes, then said, "Professor Oak is out on his morning jog. He should be back at 9:00 AM. I can get you started in the meantime." The man opened a drawer on the desk and removed one clipboard, one pen, and a piece of paper. "Have your parents fill out this form, unless you think you can do it yourself. There's a waiting area right over there." He waved his hand in the direction of an open space with a couch and coffee table.

"Thanks!"

Moments later, he was sitting on a couch and staring at a blank 'Trainership Application Form'. Curiously, among the many things he had to fill out, there wasn't a space for his name. For the spaces that did exist, a few items were easy, like gender, but most of them he either didn't know it or didn't have, like emergency contacts, date of birth, or even the current date.

He ended up putting down N/A's wherever he thought he might be able to get away with it, and just making things up otherwise. He couldn't make up the date, however, so he had to hunt down a calendar, which he eventually found on a public terminal in the waiting area. From there, he worked backwards, making up a birthday that would put him at age ten.

At one point, the front door to the building opened, admitting a green-haired girl that looked to be around his age, wearing a white dress.

Through the open door, he saw all five of his Meowth waiting for him outside. He paused in his form-filling and retrieve their Items, realizing as he put them in his bag that he might be in the lab for a while. So, taking the Meowth around to the side of the building, he gave them a new instruction: "Man (Bring) Human (Items) hume (here) man human (while I am) human (busy). Human (I will) man human (give you) hume (food) human man (afterwards)."

With that taken care of, he returned to the waiting area and began filling out his application again. He continued entering in answers that were true or mostly true (Place of Birth: Viridian City, Place of Residence: N/A, Phone Number: N/A), until he finally had a completed application in front of him – for a stretched definition of 'completed'.

He only noticed the green-haired girl was sitting across from him when she began making small noises of distress. He glanced over and saw that she too was filling out an application.

"Need help?" he asked, since the front desk was currently empty.

She glanced up at him, surprised, then grateful. "Yeah," she sighed. Her voice carried clearly through the small distance between them. "I don't know how to answer half of these."

"That's okay," he said, scooting closer. "Neither did I."

Minutes later, two fresh applications were placed on a desk, and a bell was being rung. A few more minutes later, a lab assistant was reading skeptically.

"You do realize you have to answer these questions, right?" he said eventually.

"I... couldn't," the boy said sheepishly.

"Me neither," said the girl beside him.

The man pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sure if your parents were here, they would be able to fill these out properly."

"I don't have any," the boy answered.

"I have a mom and dad," the girl said. "But they... aren't available. Besides, I heard that anyone could become a Pokémon Trainer at age ten, regardless of background."

The man looked at the girl, exasperated. "That's true, but you need to at least have a background in the first place."

"But what if my background is that I have none?" the boy asked. "What if I have amnesia, and all I know is that I want to be a Pokémon Trainer?"

The girl giggled.

The man looked at him without humor. "In that case, I would recommend a trip to the hospital." The man sighed, glancing at the forms again. "Most of these aren't technically necessary. Your Pokédex can serve as a phone, you don't need a place of residence if you're on the road... but the one thing you absolutely must have is an emergency contact. I can't file these otherwise."

There was a pause as the two children thought about that for a moment. Then the boy finally asked, "Do you know how I could get an emergency contact?"

"Oh, oh, me too!" said the girl.

"I thought you said you had parents!" the man said, his voice rising with frustration.

"I... don't know their phone numbers," she said sheepishly.

The man pinched the bridge of his nose again, harder this time. Eventually, he said, "You know what? I think I'll let Professor Oak handle this after all. I'll let you know when he's ready."

"Thank you!" the two of them said simultaneously, the girl bowing as she said it.

The man left the desk, mumbling something about it being "too early in the morning for this."

"So," the girl said, when they sat down again. "Why do you want to be a Trainer?"

"Because it's always been a dream of mine," the boy answered promptly. "And now I finally have the chance to achieve it!" The boy posed, and the girl giggled again. "What about you?"

"Well... I've always found pokémon fascinating, I guess," she answered. "Plus, I'm looking for something important, and I think I'll have a better chance of finding it as a Trainer."

"What are you looking for?"

"It's a secret," she said. "By the way, what's your actual background?"

"It's a secret," the boy said, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Fine, be like that," she hmphed, crossing her arms. Then, sniffing the air, she asked, "Do you have food in your backpack?"

"No, just Pokémon Chow," he said, pulling out the bag to show her.

Her eyes widened. "Why do you have that much pokémon food? That's a lot for your Starter."

"I already have pokémon that need food."

The girl tilted her head. "Are you joking again? If you're a new Trainer, you shouldn't have any pokémon. New Trainers can't catch pokémon until they get their license."

The boy was suddenly nervous. "They can't? Is there a law against it?"

She brought a finger to her chin, looking thoughtful. "No, I don't think so. But you need to weaken Wild pokémon before Capturing them, and you can't do that without a Starter pokémon."

"Some Wild pokémon are easy enough to Capture that you don't need to weaken them first to have a decent chance at Capturing them," his brain answered automatically. Then, he said, "I already have five pokémon."

Her eyes bugged out. "Really?"

"Yup," he said, sounding smug. "I could show you later. I have their Pokéballs right here." He put the chow away, opened a separate compartment from the main one, and pulled out five shrunken, red-and-white balls. "You're sure it's not against the rules for me to have pokémon already?"

"No..." she said, her eyes on the balls. "Just unusual. So, what pokémon do you have?"

Before he could answer, the door to the lab opened and a voice called out, "Professor Oak will see you now."

"Meowth," he said, standing up and walking to the open door leading further into the lab.

The girl frowned, probably expecting more, but followed behind him.

They passed many high-tech pieces of equipment as they followed the lab assistant, application forms still in their hand, then came to a stop in front of an open space containing a table, upon which rested three Pokéballs. And next to the table, frowning at a clipboard in his hands, stood...

"Professor Oak!" the lab assistant called, catching the man's attention. "I have some fresh Pokémon Trainer applicants here to see you."

"You do?" the man asked, briefly looking over them both. "Jeremy, I told you that I only handle the trainers who have made appointments."

"This is... an unusual case," the man said. Then, turning to them, he asked, "Why don't you two hand him your applications?"

Professor Oak looked at the man with a raised eyebrow, then at the two children, then at their applications after receiving them.

"I... see..." he said, his eyes on the applications. "Unusual indeed."

"I thought you would know what to do."

Professor Oak nodded. "I'll figure something out. Lucky for them, my next appointment only has one current applicant. You may return to your station."

The man, looking relieved, left without another word.

The two of them now stood nervously before the Pokémon Professor.

"So," Professor Oak said, "No phones, no emails, no home addresses, no emergency contacts, and a number of other empty answers besides," he summed up. "Care to explain?"

"Anyone can become a Trainer at age ten," the girl said firmly.

"And we want to become Trainers," the boy added.

"Even if my parents can't be here," the girl continued.

"Or I don't have any," the boy finished.

The Professor sighed. "I can see why Jeremy brought you to me," he said. "I don't suppose you two could simply take 'no' for an answer?"

The two shook their heads.

"Despite the dangers, time investment, difficulties, expenses, frustration, or anything else that goes along with traveling the region?"

They nodded their heads firmly.

"Right," the Professor sighed deeply. "Very well then, come along."

The boy's jaw dropped in shock. "You're accepting our applications? Just like that?"

"No," the Professor shook his head. "Not just like that. First, you will be making email accounts. Then, I shall tell you the numbers of your Pokédex, which will double as phone numbers. Then I shall tell you this lab's phone number, which you may use as your emergency contact. Young lady, you will be telling me the names of your parents. Young man, you will be telling me the names of your current caretakers. Then you both shall answer these applications again, only with some semblance of propriety. And then I shall accept your applications."

All in all, it took another half-hour to get everything sorted.

For the boy, most of that time had been dedicated to one thing: convincing the Professor that he had no current caretakers. According to the girl's remarks, he guessed that the age of majority in this world was ten, meaning that he didn't technically need a guardian. And according to Professor Oak's reluctant acceptance, which came with much frowning and sighing, his guess was probably right. For whatever reason, the pokémon universe did NOT coddle their children, though even HE had to admit that independence at age ten was taking it a bit too far.

Other than Oak's skepticism, the only difficult thing was deciding on an email address. He eventually settled on cleveruseofgamemechanics(atsymbol)pokéweb(period)net,* then filled out the rest of the form.

After submitting his application for the second time that day, he was finally standing before the table with three Pokéballs.

On his left stood the green-haired girl, but on his right there now stood a new addition to their little group: a boy with spiky blond hair and an 'I'm cool' attitude.

Suddenly, the lights of the lab dimmed, almost throwing them into complete darkness.

Then, a single light came to life.

A man in a lab coat with white hair and a friendly smile was illuminated in the spotlight.

"Hello there!" the man said brightly. "Welcome to the world of Pokémon! My name is Oak. People call me the Pokémon Prof-"**

"Yeah, yeah," interrupted a voice. "We know that already, gramps. Can't we just move on to the part where we get our pokémon?"

The man deflated dramatically. "Gary, can you please let me finish? This is for the other two applicants, not you."

"Actually," said the boy standing beside Gary, "I don't mind skipping the lecture." It's not like I haven't skipped it a thousand times already. "I know what I'm getting into."

The Professor deflated further.

"I'd like to hear it," said the girl.

The Professor picked himself up again. "There, you see, Gary? Someone appreciates a good introduction to their journey. Now, where was I? Ah, yes!" He brought out a Pokéball, releasing a Nidorino. "This world is inhabited by creatures called Pokémon! For some people, Pokémon are pets. Others use them for fights. Myself, I study Pokémon as a profession-"**

"You know what?" the girl interrupted. "They're right, you can skip this part."

At this, the Professor deflated completely. "Kids these days," he mumbled, ignoring her giggling, "have no appreciation for the classics. Very well then." The Professor clapped his hands together, bringing the lights back on. He also returned the Nidorino to its ball. "Before we begin, please take a Pokédex and enter your name and gender."

This took a minute. The boy, having already decided what his name would be, entered two letters into the system. He was only slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to name Gary, too. 'Stupid' Oak, 'Loser' Oak, and 'Smellya' Oak all had nice rings to them. Or he could have just gone with the classic 'Dicks' Oak, a name immortalized as the pinnacle of rival names by a well-circulated pokémon comic strip. But it seemed that Professor Oak wasn't quite so forgetful about his own grandson's name as the games would have you believe.

When all three were finished, they looked up to the Professor.

"All ready? Excellent. We will now move on to your first pokémon."

"All right!" shouted Gary, a fist clenched in front of him.

"Actually," said the girl, "it won't be the first pokémon for all of us. He-" she pointed at the boy standing next to her "-already has five."

"Say what?!" shouted Gary, looking shocked.

Even the Professor looked astonished. "Is this true?"

"Yup," the boy nodded, taking out five Pokéballs from their compartment in his bag. "They're not in their Pokéballs at the moment."

"May I see one of those?" asked the Professor. "As well as your Pokédex?"

"Sure," he shrugged. He knew he could trust the Professor to handle them with care.

The Professor opened a small compartment that slid open on the side of the Pokédex. "This is how you will register Pokémon you have captured to your trainer ID," Oak explained, placing the miniature Pokéball in the compartment and pressing a button. The Pokédex made a beeping noise, and a Meowth appeared on the screen. "Why don't you each give it a try?"

Each Trainer took a turn entering one of the Pokéballs into the boy's Pokédex while the Professor fiddled with a computer on the wall.

"I have an application that allows me to track the progress of all Trainers in the region," the Professor said by way of explanation. "This way, I can see what pokémon you have caught and how you are coming along as a Trainer. Now..." he trailed off, pulling up an empty window, then typing in some information. "Trainer... Ex," he said, reading the name off the screen. "I see you already have..." he squinted at the screen. "Five Meowth." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "WHY, pray tell, do you need FIVE Meowth?"

The boy who had named himself Ex suddenly grinned, realizing he had the opportunity of a lifetime. "Well, what kind of Trainer would I be if I didn't catch 'em all?"*** he asked enthusiastically.

He had always, always wanted to say that.

Then, for good measure, he added, "What do you want me to do, NOT catch every Meowth I see?"***

The Professor pinched the bridge of his nose harder, while the girl giggled, and Gary stared at him dumbly.

"Are you stupid or something?" Gary asked, blunt and to the point.

"Nope," the boy said, grinning. "Just joking around."

"I should hope so," said Professor Oak. "Otherwise I may have had to reconsider allowing you to become a Trainer." He squinted at the screen again. "Your pokémon already have Held Items?"

"Sort-of," Ex said vaguely, resisting the urge to brag. He didn't want to give away the Pickup Party technique while he was still using it. "Can we get back to the Starter pokémon?"

"Very well," Oak said, turning off the terminal. "There are three Starter Pokémon: Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle. The first is Grass, the second is Fire, and the third is Water. You will choose your pokémon according to your order of arrival this morning."

"WHAT?!" shouted Gary. "No fair, gramps!"

"It is extremely fair, Gary. I told you yesterday to wake up early."

Gary crossed his arms, pouting.

"So I get first pick?" Ex asked. At Oak's nod, he walked up to the table, but did not make his choice immediately.

"Come on, hurry it up," said Gary.

"Hold on," he replied. "I'm thinking. There are a lot of factors to think about."

"Like what?" the Pokémon Professor prompted.

"Type advantage, for one," he said, his brain taking over. "The first Gym is Rock and the second is Water, so choosing Bulbasaur should trivialize the most difficult early battles. Squirtle would also make the first Gym a breeze. But Charmander would make the first two Gyms a challenge."

He paused, took a breath, then continued.

"Then there's team composition to consider. Bulbasaur knows a lot of Status Moves, like Sleep Powder, Poison Powder, and Stun Spore, which will make Capturing Wild pokémon considerably easier. On the other hand, Oddish has the same Typing as Bulbasaur, learns the same Status Moves, and could fill the exact same role."

He took another breath.

"Squirtle is essentially a standard Water pokémon, except it can walk around on land, unlike the fishy Water Types. But other than serving as the team's Rapid Spinner later on, and a few other things, a Poliwag can do all the same things as Squirtle, not to mention Vaporeon."

Then he took a final breath, and finished.

"Charmander starts as pure Fire, meaning a Vulpix or Growlithe or Flareon or Magmar could theoretically fill his spot, but it eventually Evolves into Charizard, meaning you wouldn't have to Capture any Flying pokémon to have a Flyer on your team. Plus, the only other Fire-Flying Type in Kanto is Moltres, so the role it plays in a team is pretty unique."

His eyes had gone distant as he thought aloud, only refocusing when it was over. When they did, he realized everyone was staring at him.

Professor Oak beamed brightly. "That is an astute analysis, Ex. You are very well-read."

The boy wearing red shrugged. "I do my research."

"Well, I know what I want now!" Gary declared. "Bulbasaur sounds like the best!"

"I want Bulbasaur," said the girl. "My hair is green and everything. You're wearing blue! You should choose Squirtle."

"You're seriously going to choose your pokémon based on the color?" Gary demanded.

"No, I want Bulbasaur for all the reasons he-" she pointed at Ex "-said. The color is just a bonus. Besides, I thought boys wanted a challenge," she taunted. "How can you be the strongest Trainer if you choose the easiest pokémon?"

She makes a good point, Ex thought.

"Fine!" Gary shouted. "Then I want Charmander!"

"No," Ex denied him, "I think I'll take Charmander."

Gary glared at the boy with hate-filled eyes.

"Charmander is the hardest to replace," he explained, picking up the Pokéball and placing it in his Pokédex. "And I think I'll have a better chance of beating Brock's Rock pokémon at a Type disadvantage than the two of you would. Besides, Squirtle still makes the second Gym a challenge."

"My turn!" said the girl, walking up to the table and happily registering the Bulbasaur as her own.

Gary, grumbling, took Squirtle's Pokéball for himself. "Hey gramps!" he suddenly shouted. "Can I battle this dweeb?"

"Not yet," Oak answered, turning on a new terminal. "I want you each to become familiar with this machine first. It is a standard PC. You will find many like it on your journey, every time you visit a Pokémon Center. Once you learn how to operate it, I'll let you outside so you can battle."

Gary grumbled some more, but didn't argue.

The terminal didn't quite boot up like it did in the games. A few seconds of high-speed security measures, including facial recognition, fingerprint scanning, and trainer ID verification shot across the screen almost too quickly for Ex to see it all. Only after the machine confirmed his identity did it move into familiar territory, mostly matching what he expected. And speaking of expectations...

Would you like to Open up Item Storage?_

Yes_

Would you like to Withdraw an Item?_

Yes_

Please select an Item..._

Potions_

How many would you like to Withdraw?_

x5_

You have Withdrawn five Potions! Your Item Storage is now empty. Returning to Main Menu...

Ex watched with wide eyes as five Potions materialized beneath the screen of the terminal, in an empty space probably built expressly for that purpose.

"Woah, how'd you do that?" Gary demanded.

"Item Storage," Ex explained, grabbing the Potions and putting them in his bag. "New Trainers are given five Potions, right Professor?"

"Indeed they are," Oak agreed. "Though most young folk are too hasty to realize it."

"Maybe you should include that in future orientations," Ex remarked, shutting down the terminal and moving aside so someone else could use it. "Have everyone learn Item Storage by withdrawing their allotted Potions."

"I think I shall," Professor Oak said with a nod. "Gary, you next."

"Can I head outside?" Ex asked as Gary took his place. "I need to take care of something before the battle."

"Go ahead," the Professor said distractedly, then calmly instructed his impatient grandson on the machine.

"We'll catch up with you," the girl called after him.

Ex hurried out the doors, intent on preparing for his first official battle. He made a quick pit-stop at his Meowth's Pickup pile of plunder, smiling as he noticed one Item in particular.

He scooped up everything except that one thing into his bag, then released Charmander from its ball.

"Charmander!" the creature called out.

"Hugh human man (Hi Charmander)!"

The Charmander jumped as it was addressed, looking at Ex with wide eyes.

"Hugh human human hume man man man (You're about to have your first battle). Hugh hume human hugh human (Here's what I want you to do)..."

"You ready?" asked Gary. "Go, Squirtle!"

A white light coalesced into a blue turtle with a squirrel-like, swirly tail.

"You're supposed to wait until I say yes," said Ex. "Go get him, Charmander!"

His own charred salamander walked onto the battlefield, the fire on its tail burning brightly. Its mouth was closed and its eyes were narrowed in determination.

Alright, said his brain. Same strategy as always at the start of any game.

"Let the battle begin!" shouted a referee.

Spam, spam, spam.

"Charmander, use Scratch!"

One of Charmander's claws glowed white, and Charmander charged the Squirtle with speed.

"No! Squirtle, dodge!"

Oh, right, his brain thought. Trainers in the anime would often tell their pokémon to dodge incoming attacks.

But Squirtle couldn't get out of the way in time, and it cried out in pain as the attack connected. Charmander hopped backwards, awaiting his next command.

Can we do that, too?

"Squirtle, get him back with a Tackle!"

Only one way to find out.

"Charmander, dodge!" he shouted.

Charmander sidestepped the Squirtle's full-body lunge.

Tackle Missed, his brain supplied. Does that mean we can dodge incoming attacks? Or did that only happen because Tackle has 95% accuracy?

Think later, fight now, he shot back hastily.

"Charmander, Scratch again while it's down!"

The Squirtle cried out in pain, and Ex could almost see the Health bar drop, though he estimated his opponent was still in the green. At least three more.

"Squirtle, don't take that lying down! Hit it with a Water Gun!"

Wait, what?! Ex thought, suddenly panicked. Squirtle shouldn't know that yet!

It doesn't, his brain pointed out. Look.

Squirtle was looking at its Trainer, tilting its head in confusion – not the Status Condition, but the mental one.

Sweet, he thought.

"Charmander, go for another Scratch while it's distracted!"

"Gary!" shouted Professor Oak from the sidelines. "Squirtle doesn't know any Water Moves yet! He only knows Tackle and Tail Whip."

"What?!" Gary shouted as his Squirtle cried out in pain yet again. "Fine! Squirtle, use Tail Whip!"

Before Charmander could leap out of range again, the Squirtle's tail began glowing white. The squirrel-tailed turtle spun in a circle and its tail passed through Charmander, causing his pokémon to visibly shudder.

Charmander's Defense fell, his brain noted.

Crap, Ex thought.

"Just ignore it, Charmander, and hit it with another Scratch!"

Another pained cry, and Squirtle appeared to be panting heavily.

In the deep yellow, his brain observed.

"Squirtle, hit it back with a Tackle!"

For the first time that battle, his own pokémon cried out in pain. A part of him wanted to rush out to comfort his Charmander, but it was very small compared to the rest of his psyche, which was so thoroughly desensitized to pokémon battles by this point that nothing short of a pokémon's actual death could faze it. He had no trouble keeping a cool head.

"That's okay, Charmander, push through the pain and use Scratch!"

The attack connected, and Gary's pokémon was shoved back, impacting the ground painfully. Squirtle struggled to get up, and Charmander was panting heavily.

Squirtle's in the red, his brain observed. But Charmander's in the yellow.

What?! he mentally shouted. Charmander was at full Health before, and he only took one Tackle!

Critical Hit, said his brain. With Defense lowered.

Lucky prick, he cursed. Good thing I don't rely on luck.

"Charmander, do it!"

And suddenly, with a wash of light that removed all its injuries, the Charmander was suddenly on its feet again, letting out a loud roar.

"WHAT?!" shouted Gary, too distracted to issue an attack.

A distraction which Ex exploited. "Now, finish it with a Scratch!"

The Charmander's claw glowed white again, and it rushed the struggling Squirtle.

"No! Dodge, quick!"

But the Squirtle could barely move at that point. The attack connected and Squirtle was knocked away again, skidding on its back. When it came to a stop, there were swirls in its eyes.

"Squirtle is unable to battle!" shouted the referee, raising a flag. "Charmander wins!"

"And with full Health too," Oak added. "A Flawless Victory."

Ex smiled as Charmander roared again, letting out a small gush of flames from its mouth.

Charmander has learned Ember, thought his brain.

"Wait, ref!" Gary objected, recalling his Squirtle to its ball and rushing over to the man wearing a striped shirt.

Ex left his own Charmander outside its ball as he leisurely strolled to the same destination. He knew why Gary was about to complain.

"He cheated!" Gary shouted, pointing an accusing finger. "He healed his pokémon in the middle of the battle!"

Ex raised his own arms in the air innocently. "I didn't use a Potion to do it." Then he paused. "Out of curiosity, would that have been against the rules if I had?"

The ref nodded. "Restorative, store-bought medicines may not be used during official Pokémon battles."

So Trainer battles here will be like player v. player battles in the games, his brain confirmed. No Revives, no Full Restores, no X-Stat items. I wonder if it's Shift or Set?

"But Held Items are fine, right?" he asked.

The ref nodded. "So long as your pokémon can use it without your assistance."

Ex grinned, then looked at his fuming rival. He briefly thought back to his instructions to his Charmander.

He presented a Berry to Charmander.

"Human hugh human man hugh human (I want you to put this in your mouth). Human hume hugh human human (Eat it if you get low on Health)."

"Hear that, Gary?" Ex taunted. "Totally fair play."

"That was a great battle," said the girl, cutting Gary off from replying. "Even though you only used Scratch."

"Yeah!" Gary agreed – probably with her second statement, not her first. "You should have tried using more Moves, like I did!"

"And end up losing like you did?"

"I'm a bit surprised at your strategy myself," said Oak, interjecting himself into the conversation before Gary could rise to the bait. "Why did you only use Scratch?"

"It's a common mistake to use more than one Move in your first battle," Ex shrugged. His brain took control of his mouth as he said, "There wasn't much else I could do if I wanted to win. The only other Move Charmander had was Growl. If I was going to use it at all, I would have used it at the start of the match, but I was afraid Squirtle might get a Critical Hit and bypass the Growl – which he did."

At least, it works that way in the games, his brain added mentally. Even if Squirtle had a lowered Attack, a Critical Hit would have brought its Attack back up to normal for the duration of the Crit. And if Charmander had somehow managed to raise his own Defense, the Crit would have ignored that too. Crits ignore Stat changes that would negatively impact the Critical Hit - like lowered user Attack and increased enemy Defense - but they do NOT ignore positive changes - like DECREASED enemy Defense. Squirtle's Tail Whip was not ignored by the Crit.

Ex's brain resumed out loud again. "Tackle has lower accuracy than Scratch, and Charmander has a higher Speed than Squirtle, so even if we both ordered the same number of attacks, Charmander had a better chance of coming out on top than Squirtle did, even if Gary used the same strategy. The only thing I was worried about was Gary using Tail Whip on the first move, then Tackling the rest of the way. Or getting a lucky Crit, but there's nothing I can do about that. Any turns I spent using Growl were turns I wasn't spending lowering my opponent's Health. The smartest move was to Scratch all the way. Plus, use a healing Item for insurance."

That, too, is true in the games, his brain concluded. For the 1st battle, attacking nonstop is always the best move. And if you STLL can't win that way due to bad luck, the games give you 5 Potions in your home computer for a reason. Although that wasn't an option here.

"How did your Charmander heal itself?" the girl asked. "You said it had a Held Item?"

"Yup," Ex confirmed, grinning. "Oran Berry."

Gary slapped his forehead. "Of course!"

The girl blinked. "Where did you get an Oran Berry?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," he smiled smugly. Which reminds me... "Hey Professor, how do my Meowth always know where to find me? They haven't had any trouble yet, or gotten lost, and I thought you would know how they do it."

The Professor raised an eyebrow at the question. "Captured Pokémon have a link to their Pokéballs," he explained. "So long as their ball is in your possession, they will always be able to find their way back to you. The reverse is true as well; your Pokédex can track the location of your Pokémon at any time, so long as you have their ball."

So NOT sense of smell, then, he thought. "Sounds useful. Is there anything else like that I should know?"

"Oh, a great many things," said Professor Oak, "but I'm surprised you even need to ask. You struck me as the sort to have read up on all things Pokémon by now."

"There are gaps in my knowledge," Ex replied. "Especially when it comes to how all the pokétech works. I know what most of it does, but I don't know how."

"And it seems you're a bit lacking about the finer details of pokémon in general," the Professor said with a nod. "I can write up a list of some of the more useful things to know and email it to you. You won't be too busy on your journey to read it, will you?"

"I'm sure I'll find the time," Ex assured.

"Excellent!" Professor Oak beamed. "Now, we're almost done with orientation. Gary, Ex, I would like you both to take out your Pokédexes and open them to the 'Battles' section. You will see that your most recent battle has been recorded in video, audio, and text format. You may review any past battle at any time to help yourself improve. Furthermore, since you are providing a valuable service to me and Kanto every time you battle, a small amount of money has been deposited into each of your accounts, in addition to your starting funds."

"Wait," Ex interrupted. "I have a bank account now?"

Professor Oak, a certified Pokémon Official, nodded. "A Trainer's Account, to be exact. And since you won the battle, you earned a bit more. Gary should have earned ₽100, while you should have received ₽175.**** Also, since you provided commentary on your strategy afterwards, I am forwarding an additional ₽500."

"What?!" Gary shouted again. "No fair!"

"Come to think of it," the Professor continued, "your contributions to the orientation in the lab deserve compensation as well. Your analysis of the three Starter pokémon and your tip on Item Storage will both prove useful for many future Trainers. I'd say that deserves another ₽2,000."

"Hey! What gives, Gramps? Why is he getting all the kudos?"

"Gary," Professor Oak said sternly, "discovery and innovation are the entire reason why Trainers get paid to battle in the first place. Keen commentary will be rewarded, while quibbling complaints will be ignored." Then he turned so that he was addressing the three of them. "And I should warn you all that this is why repeat battles will not earn you any money."

"You mean I can't earn money by wiping the floor with Gary ever again?" Ex asked impishly.

"Hey!"

"You can," the Professor said, ignoring the banter. "But you must have a significantly different team if you wish to earn more money by battling a Trainer you've already beaten. Also, you must wait at least a week before a second battle will yield monetary compensation, regardless of team composition. The amount you earn depends on the strength of your opponent's pokémon and the variety of their team. And, of course, whether you win or lose."

"So you're saying we should all battle each other right now to get the maximum reward," Ex's brain said out loud. "And to get the weekly countdown started."

"No, I was not saying that at all," said Professor Oak. "But feel free to do so if you wish."

"But my pokémon's Fainted!" objected Gary.

"I have some Revives," Ex said. "I could give you one," he offered, "in exchange for your Potions."

Gary's eyes narrowed. "You can have one Potion."

"No," Ex said, shaking his head. "If I tried to sell them at the store, a single Revive would get me the same amount of money as five Potions. One Revive to five Potions is an even exchange."

"You don't have to barter only in Items," Professor Oak interjected. "The Pokédex may be used to exchange money between accounts. New Trainers start with ₽2,000 in their virtual wallet."

"I'm fine with either," Ex shrugged. "Just so long as I get the right amount. Buying Revives at the store would cost ₽1,500. But since I could only sell it for ₽750, that's all I'm asking for."

"It's a good deal, Gary," Professor Oak coaxed. "Besides, don't you want to win a battle before setting off for Route 1?"

And so, one (bought and applied) Revive later, Gary's Squirtle was soon battling the girl's Bulbasaur.

"Professor Oak?" Ex asked as he watched the battle.

"Hm?"

"How did my Charmander learn Ember so quickly? I thought that would take a few battles."

The first rival battle isn't enough for two levels, thought his brain. Ember is learned at Lv 7, and we should have started at Lv 5.

"Pokémon will gain significantly more battle Experience from Flawless Victories," the Professor explained. "Your Charmander was at full Health when the battle ended, and so she gained enough Experience to learn Ember."

Gary won his second battle, despite his Type disadvantage – not that Typing really mattered at this level. Soon, the Squirtle was shooting bubbles into the air in triumph.

"And what about Squirtle just now?" Ex asked. "He shouldn't have gained enough Experience defeating Bulbasaur to learn Bubble."

"He gained plenty of Experience from fighting your Charmander," the Professor corrected. "That, in addition to this most recent battle, has put him well above the Bubble threshold."

Another divergence from the games, thought his brain. Your pokémon gain Experience even if they Faint, and you can earn money even if you lose.

Another bought Revive later, and the girl was asking Ex if he'd like to battle her.

"I don't know," Ex said, rubbing the back of his head. "My Charmander just learned Ember. It would be pretty unfair against your Bulbasaur."

"You could use one of your Meowth," she pointed out.

She won that battle, her Bulbasaur shooting seeds into the ground afterwards that grew at a rather fast pace. Ex hadn't let her win; the Meowth he used was still skinny, just like the rest of his team except Charmander. Meowth was fast, but it had trouble dealing substantial damage.

That could just be the Base Stats at play, not anything to do with Meowth's health, his brain pointed out. Meowth's base Speed is 90, but its base Attack is only 45.

"Well," said Oak, clapping his hands together. "Now that you've all got a feel for battling, both on the losing side and winning side, orientation is officially over. You may begin your journey at any time, though I would recommend stopping by the Pokémart and the Pokécenter before you head off to Route 1."

"Professor Oak?" Ex caught the man's attention before he could depart, even as Gary rushed off. "You said I could earn money for discoveries about Pokémon?"

"Absolutely," Professor Oak said with a nod. "You have another?"

"Well," Ex said, a bit hesitantly, "I'm not sure if it's an original discovery, but I figured out a way to give instructions to my pokémon outside of battle..."

Sometime later, well after the three Trainers had departed with their Starters, a fourth was rushing toward the lab, mad at himself for waking up late and hoping Professor Oak would still be able to give him a pokémon. Unfortunately, the only Starter pokémon remaining in the laboratory was not a Starter at all; it was an unruly Pikachu. But that's a different story altogether.

* The email address isn't a reference (at least to my knowledge), but HOO BOY was it difficult getting that to work. I had to replace the word "mail" with "web" after "poké", type out the word 'atsymbol', and use 'period' instead of 'dot'. This website DOES NOT LIKE email addresses, even entirely fake ones with bogus website names. Unless that's an actual website; I haven't checked. Sorry for the weird formatting.

** Professor Oak's orientation begins with the opening lines from the first Pokémon Red and Blue games.

*** The "What kind of trainer would I be..." and "what do you want me to do, NOT catch..." jokes are quotes from episode 3 of Pokémon Rusty, a fantastic YouTube series made by Dorkly. I'd be surprised if anyone reading this hasn't seen it yet, but if you haven't, I highly recommend it.

**** Winning your first battle against your rival in Pokémon Red yields ₽175.

A/N: About Ex earning so much from Professor Oak, remember that ₽2,500 equates to $25, which is less than half what you could make in a single day working minimum wage. Not much, in the grand scheme of things.

The 'rough around the suspension of disbelief edges' of this story are mostly over now that we've passed Ex's application for trainership. If you could tolerate that scene, and the others so far, you should be fine for the rest of the story. Unless you find the girl annoying; her personality next chapter might turn some readers off, but it will get better over time.