This story features a Nidoking, a Pokémon I've always liked not just because it looks cool, but also because it's so versatile in the game. I enjoy having versatility because I like being able to adjust to whatever challenges come my way. It's a shame that it's all but impossible to do in real life, so I have to take it where I can.

The concept of evolution in the Pokémon sense...well, it's one of the many things in the Pokémon world which inspires a lot of questions when you look at it more closely. This is just my own take on it, I imagine others might have far different perceptions of the real implications.

Maturity

I've always held kind of an envy for human growth cycles. It's basically a continuous and gradual shift, changes that occur slowly enough that they're easy to adjust to. And it's consistent; it doesn't change a lot between individuals. I'm sure you'd probably disagree, but from my perspective it seems so simple and hassle-free.

It's so much different with Pokémon. Evolution is part of the natural course of events for us; at certain points in our lives, many of us will change our appearances drastically, and with the new bodies comes a host of physical differences which we pretty much have to adjust to on the fly. It may not look it, but it is generally fairly uncomfortable; your body becomes something it has no experience with, and you don't get any training period to get ready for it. Sure, we get stronger as a result, but knowing how to use that strength isn't part of the package.

And evolution itself is notoriously inconsistent. In the natural order of things, it would occur at pretty set periods in our lives, but that's usually only the case in very strict circumstances. Evolution can be accelerated - any trainer knows this, the more a Pokémon battles the faster it evolves. That's because fighting speeds the processes that lead to our evolution; basically, it tricks our bodies into thinking they're aging faster than they are. It's fortunate for us that there aren't any real detrimental effects because of it. Sure, a young Pokémon may be growing into an adult body before it really has an adult mind, but it's not really that much of an issue; a Pokémon under a trainer already has an accelerated maturity curve and often the bond of training further settles any problems associated with that, and most Pokémon would gladly trade time in those preparatory stages for a body that they knew wasn't going to give them any more unpleasant surprises.

Evolution can be restrained, too. Trainers know the time-honored technique of startling a Pokémon out of evolution, but in the wild it tends not to be quite so easy. A Pokémon often has to work to keep from evolving before they're ready, and for some being ready can be quite a long time. And a Pokémon that's secluded and doesn't get out and experience life grows much more slowly, constraining its evolution. This is something that happens not infrequently when a Pokémon really isn't mentally ready to evolve; they become reclusive hermits, ignoring the outside world just so they don't have to experience that change. Unfortunately, it usually doesn't help them prepare for the evolution, meaning they can stay like that for their entire lives if someone doesn't force them out.

But there's a certain subset of Pokémon for which the process of evolution is even more unusual. That's the subset that evolve using stones or other objects, who basically have some measure of control over their evolution.

Take, for example, my kin, the Nido families. From Nidoran to Nidorino or Nidorina, it's a process much like any other Pokémon, the product of natural aging and experience. But from there to Nidoking or Nidoqueen, our evolution is reliant on a catalyst, a Moon Stone. And it can happen literally any time after we reach that middle stage. Basically, once we've matured enough, we can evolve at any time we wish, just by having a Moon Stone handy. If you're in a den in the wild, there's generally no question of this; trained Nidos tend to need to rely on their trainers having access to them, but sometimes they wander off on their own to find them. Either way, there's still an element of personal control.

As you might imagine, there are some benefits and drawbacks to evolving from the middle to the final stage. Both stages grow in different ways and gain different natural techniques for battle, of which either group may be better suited for particular situations or environments. But even beyond that, Nidorinos and Nidorinas are basically a period of adolescence, a time where growth and experience is encouraged, freedom is greatly increased, and responsibility is pretty minimal. Their behavior and personalities reflect that; they're usually much wilder, more reckless and antagonistic, more carefree and self-centered. Nidokings and Nidoqueens, on the other hand, a lot more is expected of them. They're the adult, the ones in charge, and they're expected to have the maturity to keep control of themselves and others. Not that they can't be a little wild and rough, especially the Nidokings, for whom some bravado and tough attitude are rather prized by trainers. But they also have that added responsibility, and their bodies experience different influences which result in different behavior and personality.

So for us, there's a few different approaches to evolution. It's certainly not uncommon for a Nidorino or Nidorina to take that evolution almost right away. The big benefit of that is that you only have to spend time getting used to one new body rather than two. Sure, it does result in the burden of expectations on some who might not be mentally ready for them, but the changes in their body can help them cope with that. Other Nidorinos and Nidorinas prefer to wait, experiencing some of that mental growth before they take their last big physical step. Fairly common where learning some of what they're only capable of learning in those stages can be very advantageous for survival, but not exactly rare elsewhere, either.

I was a little different. I was one of those far less common Nidorinos who didn't want to evolve at all.

There may be a number of reasons a Nidorino or Nidorina might reject evolution entirely. I've heard those abused by angry Nidokings or Nidoqueens have their minds set against becoming one of them because they're afraid they'll do the same thing to others. Some don't want to go through that physical change again, and if they don't have to they avoid it as long as possible, which can be their whole lives. Some don't like the personality changes that come with it. Me, I was opposed to the idea of having that added responsibility. To put it simply, being an adolescent was fun, and the idea of becoming a Nidoking who had things he had to care about and be worried about was just repellent. I wasn't the only one I've known with that kind of attitude, but I think that tends to be a less common position than the others.

Regardless of the reasons, very few Nidos stick with it their whole lives. I was no exception there; I became a Nidoking in time as well. It was certainly something I had intended to stick with, as I'm sure many with the mindset initially do. And for most, it's just time that softens their positions. But not with me. I had a very different path. I evolved, not because I wanted to, but because of someone very important to me.

I was captured about a year and a half after I became a Nidorino. By that time, the number of friends and family my age who were still Nidorinos had dwindled to a pretty small number, and I was getting some pressure to join in. It fell on deaf ears; I didn't have to care about anything, and I didn't want to care about anything, and becoming a Nidoking would force me to. The choice was easy for me.

To be honest, I didn't exactly fight hard against being captured. It's not really a mysterious phenomenon among Pokémon, and hardly any different than just leaving home for good, which most Pokémon do at some point in their lives anyway. And trained Pokémon seem to have a pretty good life for the most part. There are some who don't like the idea of being kept, and I guess I don't blame them for it, there's a few things about the wild that are alluring. But I liked the idea, and I also was eager to get away from the pressure of my peers to evolve. So I put up enough of a struggle to make sure I was getting a solid trainer, and when I was satisfied I let her catch me.

Of course, she was pretty eager to get me to evolve at first, too. This was about as surprising as finding out that a Charmander isn't fond of water; Nidokings are stronger and more versatile in combat, so it was small wonder that trainers preferred them. I made my position very clear from the start, though, I was not going to evolve for anything. She tried a few times but eventually stopped putting pressure on me, perhaps thinking I'd come around on my own. I had no intention of doing that, but I wasn't going to let her think that if I could avoid it, so I went along with it.

It was a different life from back home. There were some tough spots, but I had no regrets overall. However, I won't say it didn't start off rocky with the others on the team. My attitude didn't endear myself to them. They were more experienced than I was, and I think they thought early on that I would adjust to be more like them pretty quickly. When I didn't, they started getting pretty testy. Naturally, being the Nidorino I was, I was pretty cocky, reckless, wild, and didn't accept the idea that I had any responsibility. Heck, wasn't that part of the reason I had let myself get captured in the first place? So, yeah, they weren't overly happy about that.

Six or seven months passed, me sticking in the team and fighting and just overall thinking that this was the life. I got pretty endeared to my trainer, too. She was a nice girl, very caring with all her Pokémon, and she had a good mind for battle, too. I'd gotten a good one, and I was really happy about that. And at some point I realized I wanted her to be happy with me, too. And I thought I was doing a good job on that front.

Well, I was wrong. I found that out when we were going through some forest and she had just switched out one of her Pokémon to be better suited for the wild Pokémon we might encounter there. For some reason, my teammates were ticked off, and I couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until we stopped to rest for the night that I found out.

I was trying to chat with her Fearow. This guy was far from the most pleasant Pokémon I'd ever met, but he was pretty personable with and well-liked by the others and I wanted to be in his good graces as well. So I was trying to chat him up, jus give a little small talk to endear myself to him. I tell you, it's not easy to give a guy the stink-eye and cold shoulder at the same time, but somehow he did it. He was just making it very clear that he wanted me to buzz off. And I was kind of irritated with that. I mean, I hadn't been nasty to him, at least not any more than any of the others had been when they were in bad moods. I thought it was unfair that I was getting such a cruddy reception, and I let him know it.

He almost exploded like an Electrode. It took a minute for our trainer to get him under control, but he made sure he had his say: that I hadn't been pulling my weight, that I irritated everyone with my immaturity, that I wasn't nearly as capable as any of the others and didn't act like I cared, and that he had been looking forward to me being switched out and that I was only still on the team because I had a favorable type against the Pokémon in the forest. Each accusation was like a psychic dagger, piercing me in the worst way.

Our trainer was clueless about what was actually being said, though she could tell Fearow had said something that bothered me. She seemed unsure what to do, but Fearow had gone back to treating me like I wasn't there, and I didn't want to start anything up again, so when she asked I acted like I was fine. Of course, I wasn't; what Fearow had said was really ringing in my head, and the worst part was that absolutely no one was coming to my defense. Their silence said as much as anything: they felt the same way, but just weren't quite blunt enough to come out with it like Fearow had.

The rest of the night wasn't much fun for me. Now that the cloud had been let loose there was no escaping it. Fearow pretended I wasn't there, the others didn't talk to me because they knew full well it would end up coming back to that, and I was pretty much mute and distant the whole time. She knew something was up, she could tell there was tension between us, and though she didn't know what exactly had them roiled at me she still figured it was eating me up. Before she went to sleep she took me aside and said to me that, regardless of how the others felt, she still cared about me and wanted me to be happy to be with her, and that I didn't have to be afraid that I'd be let go because of them.

I think that was really the breaking point for me. That was the moment that everything struck home. I had really grown to care about her, to the point that I wanted to prove myself to her and wanted her to be happy that I was there and fighting on her side. And yet, here I was, not fighting to my best potential, holding her back and causing tension with all the rest of her Pokémon. She had taken me in, kept me on her team even despite my refusal to evolve which she had probably been counting on right away, cared for me when I was hurt and given me endless praise and support, and what had I done in return? Not a hell of a lot. I sure hadn't made all her trouble worth her while.

All this time I had remained a Nidorino because I wanted to avoid responsibility. Turns out, I had missed the first rule of responsibility: often it finds you before you find it. All I was doing now was failing to meet it. So, at that point, the decision was an easy one. I knew she had a Moon Stone - after all, she hadn't been able to use it on me before. So, late that night when everyone else was sleeping, I fished it out of her bag and made the transition. There were no questions or doubt left in my head about it; after all, at this point I felt it was what I had to do in order to make things right to my trainer, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Of course she was shocked when she woke up that morning and found me very different from how I had been when she went to sleep. She was immediately concerned, thinking I had done something drastic and irrevocable out of sadness or despair, clearly remembering how hard I had fought against it the first time. One of those times I wished I could talk to her in a way she could easily understand, just to assure her that wasn't the case; I think I managed to eventually get that across to her pretty well, at least well enough to relieve her and make her know it wasn't anything she did wrong.

What did surprise me was how the others reacted; they were all pretty shocked and possibly even more wary than the previous night. I don't think they expected what Fearow said to actually sink in and drive me to that extent. I mean, it's a serious step to take, evolving, especially when you've been so adamantly against it before. Maybe they thought I was just going to stew about it or hate them all for pushing me to this. Fearow especially looked like he wanted to disappear, at least until I had reassured our trainer that everything was fine.

Thing warmed up pretty quickly. Over the next few days, I was taught new techniques for battle, and got used to my physical and mental changes. The improvement in my battle was such that I was startled at how badly I had been doing before, although how much of that was just attributable to the new techniques was hard to place. It was a lot easier to pinpoint how much impact the evolution had on my relationship with the rest of the team. They treated me with kid gloves for a while until they were comfortable that there weren't any hard feelings, and when I managed to show that I wasn't going to hold them back, they were a lot more friendly overall. Even Fearow, who took longer to open up because of what he would tell me later was lingering guilt over what he'd said.

And I couldn't have been happier with how everything turned out. I was finally holding my own where I had been falling short, and I was doing justice to a trainer who had done so much for me. Now I really understood what other trained Pokémon had told me when I was younger about the bond between a trainer and a Pokémon. It's hard to understand until you actually have it. It means so much to me to be able to make her proud of me, and I'm intent on getting even better so I can keep that up.

In hindsight, maybe things would have been better from the start if I'd evolved right away. But my hindsight has the benefit of a more mature and thoughtful brain than my Nidorino self; I doubt I ever would have seen it then. And, just like the other Nidos who were initially unwilling, in the end I'm very glad I made the decision to complete my growth and evolution. Because, like them, I learned that it's not the Nidoking that makes the maturity, but the maturity that makes the Nidoking.

Where I come up with these concepts, I may never know. My brain is a hurricane, and every now and then something gets flung out that you wouldn't expect to be in there. I have to latch onto those snippets or they may be gone for good.

The next time the hurricane gives something up, I'll see you again. If you have a thought of your own, throw it into the hurricane. If it has the right weight it may find its trajectory quickly. I think I've stretched this metaphor thin enough, so I'll be going now.