Chapter 11

~A Tale of Two Trainers~
-A Children's Story, Part: 2

Ashley and Bellsprout won their first battle. But the very next day, Eric and Wooper won their second.

They were both close fights.

'Just a few battles isn't enough!' said Ashley. 'We should have a hundred! And whoever wins the most of those will definitely be the one who's best.'

'I agree!' said Eric. 'Wooper and I will spend one week getting stronger. And you and Bellsprout should get stronger too! Then, we can meet again right here, and find out once and for all, who is the best.'

Eric and Ashley's fights became famous among their friends. Every Saturday night people would gather around to watch them duel.

Time and time again they would battle. And time and time again the winner would change.

This competition was turning out to be tougher than Eric and Ashley had first thought!

One week, after coming back from a loss, Ashley showed up with a brand new Pokémon. A Weepinbell! Her Bellsprout had evolved!

Ashley and her Pokémon won handily that day. They celebrated with a big party. There was cake, and cookies, and lots of yummy treats!

But by the time the very next week rolled around, Eric's Pokémon had changed too!

His Wooper had become a Quagsire.

Mahogany Town, underneath the "Souvenir Shop"

I looked over the rock face with a frown. 'This one's gonna be trickier than usual. We'll have to go slow or the whole section may collapse.' Damn it. This job won't be as easy as the one in Goldenrod. I'm going to be here at least a week or two if the blueprints they showed me are any indication.

There are two Grunts and a Scientist acting as my escort. The Grunts I recognize from past work. 'Oily' and 'Unga Bunga' are my mental designation for the pair. 'Oily' got his name because he looks like a rat. A wet yet somehow also unwashed rat. I don't know what product he uses in his hair but he should clearly toss it out and just go with shampoo instead.

'Unga Bunga' is exactly what you're imagining. Huge. Bald. Jacked. The definition of big dull-witted muscle. I don't actually know what Pokémon he has on his belt. I think they might just be the standard Rattata and Zubat that Rocket members get when they sign up. Either way, when one pictures the hypothetical trainer who's too thickheaded to understand how the basic type matchups work, his is the face that comes to mind.

The Scientist is new. Not just to me, but to Team Rocket as well. Most of the expansion that Petrel is having me work on is actually going to be for this new fella's lab. His name is Connors, he's 32, has some sort of PhD in Pokémon status conditions, was recently fired from the League for 'unethical and immoral research practices' and the reason I know all of this is because the man won't shut the fuck up.

"Of course that leads into the next obvious question!" He continues to ramble on. "If a Pokémon can obtain immunity from a toxin due to repeated exposure, does that translate into resistance to Poison-energy across the board or just from the one move? Does mithridatism against a certain Gloom's PoisonPowder also shield from an Ivysaur's? What about other Poison-energy sources? The barbs of a Nidoran or secretions of a Tentacool? Results have proven positively fascinating!"

'You know, cards on the table, the topic he's going on about is actually somewhat interesting. If it was on a piece of paper I would read it. But god, listening to his voice is just so grating.'

"When subject 'Rattata sixteen' was dosed repeatedly with an Oddish's PoisonPowder until immunity was achieved, it also developed a noticeable resistance to both Grimer's Sludge and the fumes of a Koffing. However, when exposed to the Poison-energy of an Oddish imported from abroad, 'Rattata sixteen's physiology reacted as though it had no protection at all. From this fact we can deduce that different regional populations-"

I tune the man out as a trio of Grunts come strolling down the pathway, all fully engrossed in their own conversation. Two of them appear fairly generic but the third has hair that's been distractingly dyed bright flaming red.

"..telling you dude, they're nuts over there!" Red hair states emphatically, his hands gesticulating as he tells the story. "And their leader? Total whackadoo. Gave this speech about 'wiping away the impurities' and the crowd just loved it. Zealotry man, it's a hell of a drug."

"And they really just walk around in public like that?" Grunt #2 asks. "Full regalia? Suits, glasses, hair, the whole thing?"

"Hells yeah!" Red hair confirms. "And a lot of the citizens want to join 'em! It's almost like a state-approved cult. Even one of their Elite Four is a member! But listen! That's not even the most important shit I found out over there. They got these crazy ass stones right-"

The rest falls out of earshot as the trio move along and soon enough my ear is filled with Dr. Connors jabbering away again.

"And so what if a few Pidgeys and Rattatas died! Nothing but rats-with-wings and rats-without-wings! They're as replaceable as replaceable gets! It's not as though I was trying to kill them. The goal of my work is for them to live. And 'Pidgey twenty-three' ohhh," his hand goes to his chest in academic remorse. "I had such high hopes for her! How was I supposed to know that a Seviper's venom would-"

My hand goes to the rock face again, pushing another pulse of Ground through it as I mentally plan the excavation. We might get a little of the groundwork started tonight -pun not intended- but I won't really be getting moving on this until the weekend's over. 'Those soil samples better be fucking worth it.'

Lake of Rage, North of Mahogany Town

"No disrespect sir, but aren't you a little old for this tournament?"

My round four opponent stands across from me in a brown business suit. A thick yet well-maintained silver mustache hangs over his upper lip and a formal trilby-style hat completes the ensemble. A near dead-ringer match for the classic 'Gentleman' trainer class from the early games. "How right you are young man." he responds politely, approaching to give me a handshake. "Carter." he introduces.

"Bradley." I respond, accepting the handshake and…a business card?

"To be honest I'm dreadfully embarrassed about the mixup." the man admits. "I'm on a bit of a personal trip from Hoenn you see. I was looking for a chance to stretch the ol' legs and blow off some steam when I encountered the sign up for this event. It sounded like a good spot of fun! It was only after yesterday's matches concluded that I realized it was designed for the young up-and-comers of Indigo. Quite the Dodrio's Egg on my face wouldn't you say?"

I pocket the card with a bit of a bemused expression. "They didn't let you know when you paid the entry fee?"

Carter huffs. "All the young woman at the counter asked was if I had at least two badges. Well I still have my old Badge case from Hoenn mind you, it lives right here in my breast pocket," He pats his coat. "And after that they just let me jot my name down. I'm not sure the madam even looked to see the Badges weren't local." He turns to the ref. "My deepest apologies for the time wasted, but I'm actually forfeiting this match and dropping from the event. Let young Bradley here take the win. I don't have time to stick around for a full two more days anyhow."

'Oh. Well that was easy.' "What are you doing over here on our side of the pond anyway?"

The gentleman removes his hat as the sun begins to beat down. "Well, as you saw from the card, my brothers and I are Pokémon breeders. Inherited the occupation from our dear old dad. Lately though, we've been trying to break into the TM business. I'm seeking a certain Pokémon to help us get started, but no one I speak to seems to know where to find it! I even sent a very polite missive to your League requesting information, but they didn't even bother with a courteous refusal. Just a complete stonewall!"

My head tilts. "What's the Pokémon? Not chasing down any Legends or myths are we?" I tease.

"Hardly." The man huffs again. "It's a curious little canine that goes by the name of Smeargle. Rumored to be able to replicate any move once it's seen it. The sticky wicket of it all though is that I've traveled every route from Blackthorn to Cianwood and I haven't even encountered a trainer who uses one! My brothers warned me it was known for being rare, but I think this elusive little nipper may truly have bested me."

A nostalgic smile sneaks its way to my face and I turn my face down to hide the chuckle. Just thinking of all the Smeargle strats that pervaded the online community back in my first life, one can't help but feel a little fondness.

'Oh Smeargle, you old rascal you. Lower base stats than a Ledyba and still managed to be one of the most problematic things you could see in an opponents lineup. I'll fight box art Legendaries and Mega-Rayquaza all day, but send out one little art doggo with a Focus Sash and Turn one Spore? Fuck ooooff my dude.' " It doesn't surprise me you missed them. I know where to find Smeargles though."

The man stiffens up, pausing in wiping his brow with a handkerchief. "Smeargles plural?" he asks.

"Smeargles plural." I confirm. 'There's a whole pack of 'em that lives near The Ruins of Alph. It's an annoying area to get to, -have to go through Union cave- but they're there.' I'm a tad embarrassed to admit I spent a little too long in that area while I was on my way to Azalea. I had some..let's call them 'foolish aspirations'..on picking up some easy Poké Fossils by smashing a few rocks open. Sadly, that seems to be one feature from the games that didn't translate over.

Carter perks up brightly...and then comedically slumps. "Truly the whims of Lady Fate are harsh indeed. At last, a lead in my search, but it only comes at the very eve of my journey. If I don't begin heading back towards Olivine by tomorrow morn, I dare say I'll miss my charter home. That's why I cannot stay for the whole tournament you see. My brothers are both capable men...but the business has suffered in my absence."

"No worries." I lean up against a convenient rock on the field. "I've got your card. It'll probably be a month or two before I can swing by the area I know, but when I do I can catch you a few of the Sketch Pokémon. More importantly," My grin turns predatory. "What can you offer me? You and your brothers are breeders right? I'm warning you, I only accept the best."

The Hoenn man puffs up. "And we only provide the best! Not like those dregs you'd find in the wild. Our business is one of pedigree! Carefully tracked genetic lines! Carefully cataloged heights and weights at certain age milestones! Why just in the S's we have Skitty, Slakoth, Spoink, Swablu-"

"Ground-types." I narrow his focus. "What do you have that's Ground?"

Carter suddenly looks unsure. "I can't give you a Marshtomp." he speaks quite seriously, if a bit regretfully. "There's regulations around anything related to our starter trio. And basically every Mudkip we hatch gets earmarked for Professor Birch's lab anyway. Even one's that we would note as 'below-average' by our in-house standards." He seems to turn his head up in thought. "I could offer you a Barboach?" he offers as a compromise. "A big healthy one that could turn into a nice and fat Whiscash. Very strong."

"Baltoy and Trapinch." I counter with. "That's what I'm looking for. Baltoy and Trapinch."

His mustache rustles in consternation. "Desert Pokémon, huh?" Two fingers tap at his chin. "Unfortunately that's one category we don't deal with… althooough never let it be said the breeder community isn't a tight knit bevy. I believe my brother James has a contact who could come up with something." He chortles to himself as an amusing thought strikes him. "Or as the young folk say these days, let's say I know a guy, who knows a guy."

I extend my hand. "Shake on it?"

"A one for one trade?" he smiles. "Two Smeargles for two desert Pokémon? I do believe so, yes."

"I'll get you extra if you can prepare multiples for me to look at. Even with good genetics as you say, I can be a little particular." 'Understatement of the century there, but it's the most I can say to him at the moment.'

"My dear boy," Carter laughs at the implied challenge. "My business is to peddle Skitty's to spoiled little girls to use in their contests. I believe I'm familiar with particular."

As the gentleman departs I feel the need to ask, "Hey Carter," I turn my head. "If we did have a battle, what Pokémon were you planning to field? And how far did you get in the Hoenn circuit anyway?"

The man grins a bit wistfully. "Well my Altaria seemed a bit much for this event. So I've been using Zangoose, Ludicolo, and Lairon. And I had seven Badges. Never could manage to squeeze out a win for number eight." He bids with his hat. "Until next time then."

'Damn. A Lairon goes down to us pretty easily. Four times weaknesses and all that. Zangoose could've been fun depending on its level. But a both Water and Grass-type Ludicolo? I think we just dodged a bullet on that one.'

And hey! Bright side of things! Free wins are kinda boring but this does keep us fully fresh for round five. Considering it'll probably my toughest fight to date, I may need to exploit every advantage I can get.

"No no no, don't you see?" The Ace Trainer across from me speaks again. "You're undefeated, I'm undefeated. We're both 4-0 right now. If we battle it out, one of our records becomes 4-1 and while that probably makes Top 8 anyway, it's safer just to draw. With four wins, one draw and zero losses, we're both guaranteed to make the cut. Besides, why take the risk of exhausting our teams right? Just save it all for tomorrow."

I take a glance towards the ref who audibly sighs. "Though some feel it is unsporting towards the other competitors, that is in fact how the scoring works." he confirms. "Wins are worth three points, draws are one each, and losses count for zero."

"See!" Ace Trainer Alton grins in victory, perhaps a little too smugly for my taste. "So what do you say?" He extends his hand. "Call it a draw?"

You know, Clarissa warned me that Day Two was supposed to be rougher and yet I didn't send out a single Pokémon.

I feel kinda gypped.