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Hello, and welcome to the wonderful world of Pokemon!
…or is it the Wonderful World of Pokemon?
…
Eh, doesn't matter.
My name is Jaaaeeeeeff.
Jeff.
Yep, Jeff.
It doesn't really matter, I think. I'm obviously lying, but who cares.
Anyways.
I'm coming to you live, from the wonderful Pari-er, Lumiose! The City of Lumiose!
Bustling, circular, Eiffel Tower in the middle, Electric Gym, the works.
If it's not yet obvious that I'm not a local…
…though to be fair, I've been here for years and years now. Last game I played was…Sun and Moon, I think? Years.
Anyways.
Ahem.
Welcome to Lumiose! And Welcome to the Sunshine Gym and Daycare! Pokemon Gym, not…Planet Fitness Gym. Though we have treadmills n'shit, too.
So.
Gyms.
The Lumiose Gym, headed by…uh…Clemont? Is still the League Circuit Gym. No, not Clemont. He stepped down last year. Somebody.
The world of Pokemon is, largely, on the scale and scope of Earth's Pokemon-less civilization, if more…advanced, societally. The presence of Psychic powers and mind reading tends to do that to politics and the dealings between nation states and
I should probably start from the top.
AHEM
The World of Pokemon, for ease of understanding, is divided around power blocs. In lieu of nation states, organizations stand at the top of the political food chain. Lumiose, and the region of Kalos that it lives under, is headed by the International Pokemon League (IPL), which sets the rules and regulations of the regions it manages.
The IPL is based in Kanto, and other regions under its umbrella are: Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, and, most recently, Alola. The regions of Galar (north of Kalos) and Paldea (Southeast-ish of Kalos) are in discussions with the IPL to enter its management.
Being under the IPL, among other things, means the establishment of a local Elite Four, which acts as the public face of the governing body.
Other such bodies similar to the IPL exist, and high level wrangling often occurs between groups for control of the regions. As an example, the Dawn Cloud Collaborative Association (DCCA) manages the regions that, comparative to Our Earth, are in the ballpark of China, Vietnam, Mongolia, ish.
That's heady and very beyond what we need to worry about as mere civilians. It's international politics.
So, again, receiving the benefit of the IPL means following its rules, like the creation of an Elite Four, a local Pokemon League, and all the bells and whistles that comes with. Now, Kalos's population at last census was somewhere around a hundred and fifty million people.
Context: Kalos is based on France. Kanto, the region of Kanto in Japan.
In the Pokemon world, both are of comparable size. Kanto's pop just crested 400 million, mind.
The Pokemon League must be accessible to anybody that qualifies within the region, and sifting through 150 million people…hell, even one percent of that, 1.5 million people, is a big ask.
Thus.
Access to the Pokemon League and the Elite Four is given to all trainers who can complete the Kalos League Circuit. There's no limit for the first attempt, and subsequent attempts must be done within one cycle, starting at the tail end of one league challenge and ending at the beginning of the next one.
It's a little different per region, but for Kalos the timespan of each cycle is between one to two years. So, if the League decides on March as its challenge time, then the next one will not be earlier than March of the next year.
The reason for this is logistical: venues, advertisers, travel, rest, healing, so on.
The Kalos League Circuit, then, is the eight badges you get from the Gyms in Kalos. Essentially, the Gyms register and compete, without Pokemon Battles, on who gets to be within the Circuit. Each gym can be unseated at any time, but the gym's status as a League Circuit Gym is only changed at the beginning of the next League Cycle.
I make the point of mentioning the 'without Pokemon Battles' bit because the Gyms must, in essence, show that they're able to take challengers, accommodate the schedule, produce the badges, advertise, traffic, so on, so forth. All the boring logistical stuff with a bit of cultural fluff, like "Why do you feel like you are a good representative of what Kalos has to offer" kind of thing.
Also there's significant support for a Gym from the IPL in the whole 'training Pokemon' department so a competition on direct numbers is basically not going to work. Like…the Lumiose Gym has somewhere north of 150 Pokemon who are earmarked for those who challenge it as the last of the eight badges. The next largest Gym and its direct competitor for its seat has…twenty, tops.
Slight non-sequitur: I have the ability to see a Pokemon's game stats, more or less. It...it has its uses. Not very good uses, but uses.
Lumiose's endgame team, so to speak, all tend to hover around levels 40 to 50. Most challengers going in have one, maybe two aces in their team that barely, barely scrape 40.
The reason for this, and we'll definitely go into detail later, is that in the real world, actions have consequences and shit's complicated. Pokemon are tough, but not so tough that they can shrug off all damage.
For example, let's say an Eevee is matched against something significantly heavier like a Lairon and eats a Body Slam. Revives and the Pokemon Center will get it going again, but if the slam breaks a leg, then the little thing will suffer significant speed penalties until the leg heals and it goes through proper rehab. Again, Pokemon are tough, and the treatment is top notch, but fast is not instant, and retraining always takes time.
On the flip side, Pokemon fights are not nuzlocke. Nobody dies in a fight in a Gym setting, or between two trainers agreeing for a fight, because everybody communicates and understands that this is, in essence, a friendly match. But, accidents do happen, passion does happen, and shit gets bad if weight classes are not respected.
It's like boxing. Nobody walks away from a boxing match being confused at the lack of death.
This is why the Bad Guys (i.e. Team Rocket) are scary, because they're not usually in the business of holding friendly matches.
This is a rabbit hole we can go down for miles and miles, so let's get back on topic.
The Pokemon League Circuit, as you may have guessed, is the highest rank circuit you can achieve. There is technically a higher circuit, the IPL Circuit, but that's invitation only.
By virtue of the League Circuit being the highest, there are automatically lesser, though still official, circuits, and, of course, informal circuits.
For example, the informal 'Simp Circuit' is Shalour, Laverre, and Snowbelle, since all three gym leaders are pretty. Laverre is Valerie, Snowbelle is Wulfric's daughter, and Shalour is Korrina, though she's on maternity leave. What's her face, Serena, is filling in.
Non-sequitur again: people desperately want Korrina to come back because Serena is an IPL Circuit Champion and she takes absolutely no prisoners. It's so fun to watch.
For a Circuit to be official, it just needs to be confirmed by the IPL and the local league as being legitimate gyms and fitting to the circuit rank they're applying for.
The ranks are: Local, Area, Open, Graded Circuit Level 3 (C3), C2, C1, Sub League (SL), League (L).
It's very straightforward, mostly. Local is for a region within a city, Area is city-wide, Opens tend to be city plus nearby towns. Sub League is like League, but easier, and Graded Circuits tend to do whatever they want and are usually sponsored by a large company. Per IPL rules, only C3 circuits and above have prize money from the IPL.
So, to qualify for a chance to get, say, the League Voltage Badge, the trainer must have accomplished at least one of the following within the current or previous cycle: won a local circuit, best-of-four or higher in an area circuit, qualified for an open circuit, gained one gym badge ranked C3 or higher.
For circuits below C3, you'd have to get that rank in all the gyms of the circuit or above, as there is no 'final' battle. Depending on how much flexibility a trainer has, it's sometimes easier to scrabble for a C3 badge instead.
There are limits as to how many gyms can be in a circuit, and because having a strong but clearable circuit is good for advertising and business, most circuits don't go above five gyms.
The Lumiose Gym, plus three of its annex buildings, are a part of eighteen different circuits, with the lowest being C2. The Voltage Badge is only issued for the League Circuit, they have lesser ones for the lower circuits.
Our Sunshine Gym, of which I am just an employee, is a part of four local circuits. Local circuits only give badges upon winning the entire circuit, with each individual gym condition registered to the challenger's IPL trainer log. In lieu of a badge, we have candy and stickers.
There's no requirement of being locked to a circuit, it's just bad PR to start on a circuit and hop to another one halfway. But, y'know, life happens.
Speaking of challengers.
…
On the schedule for the day, we have two challengers in total. Both in the afternoon. After school's out, to nobody's surprise.
The first is a young, eleven-year-old girl. She enters, cowering behind her mother. "H-hello." She says, after a little coercing from said mother for courage. "M-my name is Marina, I'm here to, uh, challenge this gym for the Small Sweet Circuit."
Small Sweet. Local, sponsored by Skittles™. Not actually Skittles™, but you get the idea.
I'm on duty today, of the three trainers in this gym. The gym leader isn't here, because his kid has soccer practice. "Alright, can I see your trainer card?" She takes out her phone and hands it to her mother, who hands it out to me with a smile that's a mix of pride and understanding (if a little exasperated). I scan it with an IPL scanner, and it registers the attempt. "Wonderful, thank you." I say to both. The girl hides harder while the mother laughs slightly and kind of forces her out into the open. "Which part of the circuit are you on?"
I know, because her card tells me, but it's common practice to ask.
"T-this is my first gym." Marina says, now getting more and more flustered because her cover is now behind her. She's very cute.
First Gym. "Ok. Per the Small Sweet Circuit rules, we cannot have more than three Pokemon for this fight. How many do you have?"
Marina takes out a Premier ball. "Just one." It's dusty and shows signs of incredible use…looks like a Series 4? God that's old. Probably her mother's ball. "I would like…" She looks back to her mother, who nods encouragingly. "I would like two chances, please."
Oh, that's rare. "Alright then." I nod. Two chances means having a harder first round in exchange for a second round in case of loss. Small Sweet rules says I need to match the challenger count plus one. It's rare because more people are ok with losing once and coming back next week, rather than ten minutes later.
We move to the combat area, a large, depressed rectangle with a pokeball sign drawn in the middle. It's about the size of a basketball field. It's depressed because we need retaining walls in case a Pokemon flubs an attack and are too poor to build the walls.
The Gym is basically one large building. The inside of the building is the daycare, mostly, and the outside is the gym. Y'know the kind of building that has one section of it hollowed out, so it looks like a box with a leg? It's like that. On the outer ring of the battle area, about, oh, six feet from the retaining wall, is a waist-high picket fence that separates the area from the road beyond. We have five onlookers, tops. They live nearby.
I wheel out a cart attached to a wheeled rack of ten pokeballs. On the cart is a computer and a tray. Marina puts her ball on the tray and the data scans out to be a Sentret.
Which…is not native to Kalos. Like, at all.
But, ok. The Sunshine gym is a grass gym, so she's…not going to have the greatest time of this.
Per the circuit rules, I need one lower, one higher. The computer estimates the Sentret's battle power and gives me a total of seven recommendations for the two categories.
Let's give her an easier time of it.
.
[Battle Start]
.
Sentret takes onto the field, Marina takes her position in the trainer box. Basically, where the basketball hoop would be, on her side of the field. I take my position.
Marina sends out Sentret.
Go! Cottonee!
Note: vocal commands are given but not transcribed for efficiency.
The Sentret is about double the height of the Cottonee. The Cottonee is about the size of a basketball, if a little larger.
Sentret, a rodent-like creature with an extremely robust tail, charges at the Cottonee with Scratch. It connects and digs deep with its hands.
Cottonee, being a ball of animated floating cotton, clings and Absorbs energy from the Sentret's arm.
The Sentret, likely not used to this specific reaction, cries out and tries to shake the Cottonee off.
Marina tries to get the Sentret to calm down, but she is significantly quieter than the Sentret, so no orders are getting through.
I move so Cottonee can see my body language and get it to disengage, since we want her to keep going for a bit.
As soon as we let go, the Sentret immediately Defense Curls and balls up. Marina practically needed to beg to get it to listen to her again. I'll note here that, in this real world, traded pokemon don't have loyalty issues. Well, no more issues than your own captures, anyways.
In any case, she gets her buddy to calm down. It rushes in on all fours for a Quick Attack, using its tail to do the smacking. It very obviously does not do a lot of QA with its tail, since the attack is rough and lacks muscular synergy.
Cottonee takes the hit and is sent back flying. It's very light.
The Sentret takes heart in the hit and circles around for a second go. Now more confident, its body language is much better and its attack definitely has more oomph behind it.
Cottonee coats itself in a layer of Stun Spore.
The hit connects and the Cottenee flies far back, leaving behind the cloud of Stun Spore to cling to the Sentret's fur. It takes into effect easily enough.
The Sentret suffers and twitches, confidence gone.
Cottonee readies up some Swifts, and slaps the Sentret for two hits before the Sentret breaks and gives up, escaping out of the ring and into Marina's mother's arms.
While still coated in Stun Spore.
Match over, Gym wins.
.
[Battle End]
.
Marina's mother, laughing, pets her Sentret and the three of them return to the waiting area, where we have chairs and water for recovery. As they sit and let the Stun Spore run its course, I sit and face Marina.
"Alright, round one is over." I say. She nods. "There are some things you should work on."
My special ability comes into play, but this is mostly just experience talking.
"First things first, practice with Sentret before you get into a gym battle. I know it looks easy on video, but there's more you have to do than just attack."
I press a button on the computer, and it projects a digitized recording of the fight onto the ground between us.
"Like, right here." I pause the video as the Sentret charges in with Scratch. "Cottonees in general are very light. A physical attack should always be aimed towards the ground, and it's always the second hit that deals damage." The video shows a sideways swipe, which causes the Sentret's claws to stick. "Keep this in mind whenever there's a big weight class difference."
Marina nods.
"Second, and this is why I say you have to practice: disengages are hard." The video shows the Sentret frantically trying to get the Cottonee off of its arm. "Sentrets don't have the strongest arm strength to begin with, so you need to figure out grabs and breaks early and get them nailed down. The second gym in this circuit is the Tapper Gym, and they're a Fighting type gym."
Marina nods. "We live closer to that one."
Well gee no wonder you came here first. It's about ten minutes away at a brisk walk.
I nod. "Ok. Sentret, how're you feeling?"
The Sentret hops down from Mother's arms and gives off a sense that it's fine-ish.
"Alright, here." I beckon it closer and grab gently onto its paw. It instinctively tries to tug its arm away, fail, then panic the way that animals do when captured before calming down. "To break a grab, use your tail."
The Sentret thinks on it for a bit and shakes its head no.
I laugh. "If you're grabbed, it will usually be against a heavier opponent. So, again, being off the ground is a plus. Here." I move my other arm behind it. "Jump on."
The Sentret thinks for a second, looks to Mom for approval, gets it, and jumps into the hand like it's sitting there. It's very plush, and the fur is well kept and groomed, spores aside.
"Alright, now grab my hand."
It does. There's not much force. I should note that a part of my work uniform involves gloves.
"Bite."
It does. It's a nibble. It knows it's not in danger.
"Now hit my arm with your tail."
It does. Again, a light bump.
"A hard enough hit will do damage, if not cause them to let you go, so watch your landing. When you're ready, we'll do this again."
Sentret nods, and makes an exaggerated tap on my arm with its tail. I let go, and it falls the six inches or so onto the ground, rolls back, and gets into battle stance on all fours. Good battle sense.
"Yep, like that." I pat it on its head. "If you're heavier, the other side will take a lot of damage, and if you're light, you can make use of your opponent's weight." I look at Marina dead in the eyes. "These are the basics of close quarters combat. Practice." Normal types are both the easiest and the hardest to train because they're so reliant on having good fundamentals, and that takes time.
Marina does not avoid my eyes, and she nods firmly.
Now then, special skill, go!
…
Sentret.
Level 8.
Age group: mature.
EV distribution: high attack, speed, health.
Dietary type: housepet.
Moveset acclimation: self-defense.
…
Plus other values, but these are the ones that stand out.
Going by all of this, and the Sentret's behavior, I'm going to assume that Marina's mother used to be a trainer and traveled with it, before settling down for a significantly more laid-back life. The fact that it's used to a self-defense kind of moveset implies that there's bigger Pokemon in Marina's household that plays a bigger role in the family hierarchy.
Movesets are the series of four moves that a given Pokemon specializes in. All Pokemon remember all moves that they've ever learned, and are able to learn, within reason,other moves through watching, tutoring, etc. Like, a Pokemon that can learn Fire Punch would also be able to learn Fire Fang, and vice versa. Learning does not equate full usage, mind: Hitmonchan and Hitmonlee can both learn Fire Punch, but Hitmonchan has a much higher damage ceiling.
Thus, having four moves is not a hard limit, just a recommendation. Having movesets that synergize is also great, given it's no longer turn based. Some basic synergies would be Leer+Razor Leaf, Defense Curl + Rollout, Taunt+Stun Spore, Agility+Brave Bird, etc. Like, predictable stuff. Leer helps unnerve the target and expose weak points in their guard so Razor Leaf can hit harder, so on, so forth.
And, yes, EV training, levels, all that jazz, everything erodes with time. If Pokemon are not exercised according to the expected level of performance, they will eventually lose that level of performance. Keeping level 100s at peak fighting condition is an expensive task, especially if they're calorie-heavy final evolutions.
…
So, with that out of the way, Martina spends ten minutes training with the Sentret under her mother's watchful eye and we're ready for the second round.
Marina. Sorry. Marina.
Thus, once again.
.
[Battle Start]
.
Sentret versus Cottonee, second go.
This time, the Sentret waits for us to make a first move.
Problem: it's not moving from its position. That's not good.
Not good for the Sentret, I mean. We've already proven that we can use status effects, so giving us time to set up is not great.
Also, this is dead time. The Sentret is being very alert and paying attention, but being alert in of itself is not enough. If there's no contact, there should be Growls, Leers, Charm, whatever. Prime time to spam debuffs if there's no dodging going on.
…then again, we're not doing any of that, because Cottonee doesn't have that as a default moveset, and I'm supposed to pull my punches as gym number one of a local circuit, soooo…
…Let's instigate.
Cottonee uses fairy wind, whipping up a cloud of pale, pink-ish energy.
Sentret flattens against the ground as best as it can and takes some chip damage before rushing in with a Quick Attack. Good.
Quick Attack's best position is as an attack of opportunity counter, especially after the opponent uses a special that leaves them open like this.
Sentret slams its tail against Cottonee and bounces it against the ground. The physics isn't really there for the Sentret to recover, so its trajectory doesn't change a whole lot.
So it gets to inhale a mass of Stun Spore.
Now, this is actually dangerous, and not in a good way, so the match is paused and the Sentret gets to inhale vaporized paralyze heal so it doesn't asphyxiate.
Healing items are provided to the trainer, and the package differs depending on the circuit's rules.
After the Sentret gets its breath back, we ask both it and the trainer independently if they want to continue. Both say yes, so we get back to it.
This time, the Sentret is significantly more confident in its approach, QA right at the green light.
Cottonee evades by flying up, but it's not a natural flier and Sentret's big foofy tail catches it and bats it down just fine.
This is Cottonee's biggest weakness, especially with the power level we're playing with right now. Without the time to set up or the ability to latch onto the target, she essentially has no moves that work. Swift, despite its billing as an unmissable attack, does in fact miss when the combat range is so short.
Thus, with no time to rest, Cottonee taps out in short order.
My ace now gets the chance to shine.
Go! Petilil!
It's a little sprig of a green grass fairy girl thing. It's cute. Mono-Grass, though.
Weight-wise, it's about a match for the Sentret. Mobility-wise, it doesn't even come close.
Petilils are able to move under their own power, but it's a rather lax jump and glide and makes them easy targets in the air, moreso than Cottonee, who at least have their superlight weight.
I usually just carry them around in my arms. They're cute.
Either way, Petilil hits the ground and Ingrains immediately.
Sentret charges for a standard Tackle. Not much speed behind it.
Petilil releases Stun Spore all around it.
Sentret cancels the Tackle, because Marina guessed it right and had it cancel as soon as Petilil started moving. It then rolls into a ball and sweeps the air in front of the Petilil with its tail, fanning away a chunk of the Stun Spore, then goes into a QA and slams into it face-to-face.
Petilil, being rooted and already of equal mass, takes all of the damage and then slaps its little nubby arms and head leaves around the Sentret, then Mega Drains.
The Sentret, in a rough position after its attack, struggles to get free for a solid ten seconds before getting its tail on the ground and then springing up. If nothing else, it feels like the Sentret is getting its old senses back.
Petilil uses Bullet Seed. The trails of seeds going up into the sky looks like AA fire, and the Sentret…well, the Petilil isn't great at predictive targeting, so the Sentret manages to defend with its tail and land mostly unharmed, where it quickly makes distance so dodging is easier.
I should note that the Sentret is kind of predicting Marina's commands by at least a full second at this point. Like, she went "get out of there" when he got grabbed, and when we started shooting seeds he started to defend before she went "watch out."
In my case, I've been giving orders maybe every other attack, because at some point the micromanaging gets stupid.
Anyways, Marina tells the Sentret to keep defending while she moves to a better vantage point (she hasn't moved from her trainer box). Which, again, is bad. Gotta spend the time doing something.
Petilil is using Growth.
Marina has moved to the left side of the box, so that means she's going to attack from that side.
Which they do. She says something quietly to her Sentret and it runs in with a QA.
Cutesy, but at this level the effective repertoire of the Pokemons are so small there's no point hiding it.
Like, there's nothing stopping the Sentret from learning Giga Impact beyond the fact that it lacks the speed, physique, control, and raw power necessary for Giga Impact.
Anyways, it charges in, senses the Stun Spore that Petilil reupped, and…Rollout? It rolls into a ball and slams into the Petilil.
Ok.
Like in the grand scheme of things that's not a bad idea, because we're rooted and it's not, but…there's a limit to how much speed and power you can gather with Rollout, because changing directions is a thing.
And, like, it takes a hot second, but Ingrain isn't permanent, y'know?
Sentret rolls around outside our strike range and gathers as much speed as Marina lets it. When she's confident, she directs it to attack.
Now, Rollout's power drops dramatically if the user needs to confirm the objective before going in, because, y'know, it's hard to look at things when you're spinning.
Sentret does not look, and instead trusts Marina's directions on where to go.
The timing lets Petilil break Ingrain, and it leaps into the air before the Sentret can connect.
Again, Sentret can't see shit and Marina was not expecting the leap, so it smacks into the retaining wall and is dazed.
Petilil has been using Growth for a while now, so it lands after its jump and then jumps again. Before the Sentret can recover, it lands and Mega Drains for victory.
…
In the grand scheme of things, good attempt.
…
We talk for a little bit more, then bid goodbye.
…
Second person cancels, because they had something else come up. No bigs.
…
The rest of the day is spent tending to the rooftop garden for me. During the evening hours is when the Gym comes alive, more or less. The other two trainers show up, along with the gym leader and his son, and we get some regulars.
Like, it's called a Gym for a reason, and all that. Trainers from the neighborhood come to train, and we have battles like normal. Our usual clientele in this fashion tend to be big little kids. Pokemon world education feels like Earth world vocational education, with mastery as requirements for going up a grade.
Which…yeah, it does mean there are some people who get, uh, mixed up with people far younger than them, and vice versa. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it's nothing a good Psychic type can't handle.
The levels go from Grades 1 through 9. Beyond that is specialized education–college, ranger school, etc. Average age of a Grade 9 graduate is about 19 years old.
So, yeah, our gym's primary participants are kids that are just about out of Grade 1. Pokemon caretaking and battling are core curriculums, so the ones that live nearby come here to train and learn.
…well, their parents pay for tutoring, but yeah.
I'm taking care of the garden because, strict to the studs, I'm the least experienced gym trainer here. The other two trainers, Grade 8s, are both miles above my analytical skill, control, command efficiency…you name it.
It's not a surprise, really. I wasn't born in this world and I don't have special control powers. So I tend the plants.
I like tending the plants. The Gym has four Petilils and they take turns requesting the hose. The Cottonees like getting hosed down, too, but they have no weight so they actually take damage. I have a watering can for them instead.
It should be mentioned that Pokemon of all types have no issues with a water bath, the difficulty is in understanding what needs to be done and how to do it. Charmanders will tear you a new one if you just try to toss them into a bath, for example.
I guess the point I'm making is that Petilils are cute.
Incidentally, the total Gym roster is: five Petilils, seven Oddishes, two Cottonees, a Leafeon (Gym leader's ace), and some Fletchlings. I'm not sure if those birds are a part of the gym or if they just hang around, to be honest.
I mean, they have fun and don't bother anybody, so I guess it's fine.
…
[One Week Passes]
…
Oh, fun times.
One of the local trainers (Grade 7) has caught too many Pokemon while on a school trip.
That in itself is not necessarily a problem–gotta catch 'em all–but the problem is that his family is in no way rich enough to support having that many pokemon, nor do they have caretaker agreements with a ranch or a nursery.
Or, putting it another way, it's like not having box storage in a Pokemon game.
Sooooooo
The Pokemon that his family can't afford to raise (read: all of them) are being surrendered to any locations willing to take them, which means that our Gym and our neighboring Gym both take half.
There's an in-game mechanic that lets you Release a Pokemon, which would be neat, except in this real world the relationship between a Pokemon and its Trainer is mutual. The Pokemon is not made subservient by the Pokeball, the Pokemon makes a point of agreeing to the contract.
Pokemon that are willing to play along with trainers do so because they wanna. Likewise, if they don't, they're not going to jump out from the tall grass at all.
Like…it can't be stressed enough that, in the relationship between Pokemons and Humans, the reason why it's mutually cooperative is because the Pokemons decided that it would be mutually cooperative. Pokeballs, the tools by which humans enforce that contract, were not created as a result of pure human ingenuity.
So, telling Pokemon that 'they can just go home now' is a really fast way to get your throat torn open. They're willing to be captured after being defeated as a measure of respect for that particular human, and breaking that respect unilaterally is incredibly bad.
Ergo, we're taking care of them until they're adopted to new trainers, or have had enough and return home, or we get a more appropriate caretaker to take them.
To that end, we now have…three Ponytas.
…huh.
Ok I'm gonna go find that guy and smack him for catching six horses while living deep in the city. Excuse me.
.
.
.
{ === + === }
Author Notes:
This is loosely based on Gen 6 rules, though I'm rather, y'know, loose with how it's adapted. Feel free to point out things that should be included in the Pokemon descriptions or performance.
Also: I consider the Pokedex notes on Pokemon to be extreme cases, such as Slugma's body heat, and thus will not be considered to be standard action. As in, a Slugma will require special care and handling, but not "specialized ultra-high-temperature gear" handling.
