Greetings to all those kind enough to read this, SlackTheKing here! I just had a couple things I wanted to say before you get into the 3rd chapter of A Slothful Journey.
I want to start off with a thank you! Thank you for taking the time to view and read through my story! Even if you ended up not enjoying it, the simple fact that you gave it a chance means more to me than you can ever know! And to those who have followed, favorited, or reviewed, an extra thank you to you! You all have been a driving force for me to continue the story and make it the best I can!
Some of you may notice this is the second Monday in a row that I've posted a chapter. It is my hope that I can achieve a chapter a week, posted each Monday. Of course, my writing is all dependent on my free time in any given week, so it may not happen, but that is my intentions at this time!
That's all I really had to say, so without further ado, here's Chapter 3!
Professor Birch was a well-known figure in the town of Littleroot, respected and adored for his jovial nature and his position as the Pokemon Professor of Hoenn. He was an Ursaring of a man: tall, broad, and bearded, though he would often say he was more of a Snorlax and pat his gut. Unlike the stereotypical attire of scientists, he could always be seen dressing casually, wearing a blue T-shirt under an unbuttoned white lab coat, khaki shorts with a black belt, and sandals on his feet. He was constantly out doing fieldwork, trudging through the hot and humid climate of Hoenn to study the habitats of Pokemon, observing their natural behaviors and interactions.
In fact, it was pretty rare to find the professor anywhere near his lab, and never for very long. Which is why it had come as a surprise for the people of Littleroot to find out that not only was Professor Birch at his lab, but he had been for the past few weeks. A few well-intentioned people had enquired, wondering if he or his family had fallen ill. The answers his lab assistants gave them only served to confuse them. "Professor Birch is currently undergoing the greatest challenge he has ever faced."
Professor Birch gasped as he wrestled with the colossal figure, his teeth bared as he swiped with his improvised weapon, leaving a series of marks upon his mortal foe. But as swiftly as he struck, the markings faded just as fast, a new, unblemished surface arising. He growled, reaching for the Pokeball at his side, calling out his faithful partner to help him combat the foe. Inferno, his Blaziken, erupted from the Pokeball, the foe wilting under the wave of heat produced by him. "Inferno, let's end this here and now! Use- "The office door slammed open as Miranda, Professor Birch's assistant, walked in, her heels clacking against the floor, her expression stern. "Professor Birch, for the twentieth time, you may not burn your paperwork!"
Her ice-cold voice seemed to strike Birch as he stumbled back into his desk. Inferno was in a similar state, the flames burning around his wrists snuffed out by the coldness of her tone. They both lowered their heads in shame as Miranda gave one last huff and shut the door loudly behind her, trapping Birch in the room with the foe dreaded by Professors all over the globe: paperwork. He cringed as he looked back, the stacks of paper seeming to loom over him as he slowly trudged back to his desk and resumed writing.
A few hours later, Birch rose from behind his desk, the last page signed and dated. He cracked his neck a few times, walking to the glass door on the back wall of his office. He stared out across the fields, watching the Pokemon meander around his enclosure. His face was relaxed, his eyes sparkling as he took in the result of his life's work, reminding himself what he had accomplished and still had yet to do, as he did every day. He glanced back to the massive stack of papers, filled out and stamped with his seal of approval. Although he hated paperwork and exaggerated at times, he would never grow tired of his job. The joy of witnessing the start of a Pokemon journey, the thrill of seeing both people and Pokemon grow and evolve, was a sensation he could never give up. He picked up a paper from the top of the pile and sighed, a slight grin on his face. '447 applicants this year, let's hope they know what they're getting into.'
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Malic's eye twitched as he looked at the crowd of a few hundred people meandering about in front of a large brick building. A huge Pokeball sign hung above the main entrance, barely visible in the early morning light. It appeared nearly identical to the red and white sphere, with the only difference being the central button replaced with the Pokemon World Organization symbol, an octadecagon Pokeball, with each corner having the symbol for one of the 18 types. Malic took one look at the loud and raucous crowd and promptly turned around, walking to the very edge of the clearing.
He found a decently tall tree and grabbed a lower branch that looked thick enough to hold his weight. He swung himself up onto the branch and draped himself lazily along it, resting his back against the trunk. He pulled out his sketchbook and opened it to a half-finished sketch of Gale, her wings unfurled and plumes streaming behind her. Pencil in hand, he set to work, aiming to finish the basic outline of her body and perhaps start on some finer detailing. An hour flew by, quickly joined by another. The once excited and rowdy crowd steadily grew quieter until only hushed conversations remained.
Malic, too absorbed in his drawing, didn't notice that after 3 hours of waiting, the first person departed from the crowd with a loud proclamation, "Screw this!" After a few more minutes, another person left, followed by a few more. As the 4th hour of waiting approached, about 40 or so had given up. Now, even the hushed conversations had died out, leaving the silence to be filled only with the occasional gust of wind, which carried the faint cries of Pokemon with it. Malic had completed his outline and now busied himself with details, focusing for now on the hair-like feathers that flowed off the Pidgeot's head.
Halfway through the 4th hour, the doors to the lab creaked open, and a thin man dressed in a lab coat exited the building. The crowd surged up and towards him, questions and accusations hurled towards him. He cleared his throat, his voice booming out over a speaker system. "Potential trainers, if you are still here, congratulations on passing the first test. To be a successful Pokemon trainer, you must possess certain capabilities, including patience. A Pokemon will not evolve in a day, you will not conquer the gym circuit in a week, and you must be capable of spending months on the road. If you couldn't manage to wait a paltry four hours, then you have no business becoming a trainer. Now, if you follow me, there are three check-in stations in the lab's lobby. Please form orderly lines to each and state your name when your turn comes."
The crowd flooded through the open doors, cheers and conversation filling the air once more. Malic placed his sketchbook back into his bag and hopped down from the branch, landing with a dull thud. He strolled towards the lab; the lines were already beginning to spill out of the doors. He took his place towards the back of the right line, with only the odd straggler or two behind him. The pace of the lines was quick, and in a few short minutes, Malic entered the lab lobby. It was a professional-looking room, with polished tile floors and a reception desk, and was well illuminated with large glass windows and lamps positioned around the room. In front of him, he could see the three booths made up of simple dark blue curtains drawn around a roughly square area.
Every few moments, a trainer would enter the booth and then exit out the other side and start walking down the large hall behind the booths. Soon, it was Malic's turn, and he brushed aside the curtain. In front of him was a nondescript man sitting behind a folding table with a large pile of papers attached to a clipboard. He didn't look up from the pages, simply saying in a nasal voice, "Please state your name."
"Malic."
The man flipped through the pages, pushing up a pair of small wire-rimmed glasses that kept slipping down his nose. He eventually plucked a page from the bundle. "Ahh...yes, well, here you are. No prior experience, well then, you go to group C in room 105. It's just down the hall, the 3rd door on your right."
Malic nodded without a word and made his way out the back of the drawn curtains, heading down the hall alongside a few other applicants. Eventually, he spotted 105 above a door and stepped towards it, sliding it open. The room was a sort of auditorium, with a small podium in front of two large whiteboards. Across from the podium was a series of seats, each row higher than the last. Most people seemed to sit towards the middle rows, though one studious-looking girl placed herself squarely in the middle of the front row.
Malic trudged up a staircase that ran up the side until he reached the second to last row. He settled into the seat closest to the stairs and idly glanced around the room. With a majority of the middle already filled, people began to fill in the rows closer to the front, some almost throwing themselves into seats. A few disregarded the fight for the front and instead chose to climb a few rows before finding a seat like Malic had done.
The room was plunged into darkness, the lights abruptly cutting out. The room remained dark briefly before a single spotlight shone down on the podium. Behind the podium, Professor Birch stood with his arms crossed across his chest and a broad grin on his bearded face. "Well, now, I see we have quite the turnout! For those who don't know, I am Professor Birch, the lead Pokemon Professor for the Hoenn region!" The rich baritone of Birch's voice reverberated clearly throughout the room, words reaching even the back rows with ease. "Now, if you are here, that means that you wish to start your own Pokemon journey. Well, it is my pleasure to assist you in that regard. Today, you shall be tested, and those of you that pass shall be given the opportunity to embark on your very own adventure." Birch presses a button on the podium, and the lights appear again. Another press causes a screen above the podium to switch on, with the PWO logo slowly spinning around.
"As you should all be aware, those participating in this program are sponsored by the Hoenn Pokemon League. What you might not know is that this program is also being overseen by the PWO, or Pokemon World Organization, as a sort of test run. As such, certain expectations are to be met to justify your sponsorship and the perks it provides. First, you must participate in the Hoenn League championship within two years of obtaining your starter Pokemon. Secondly, the eight gym badges needed to qualify for the league must come from the eight Hoenn Major Gyms." This statement garnered groans and whines from the crowd. Even Malic knew of the major gyms. Each held a master of their respective types, and some were even said to be on the level of the Elite Four. The typical Hoenn league challenger was expected to have anywhere from one to four Major gym badges, and even then, they were usually earned after repeated attempts. The accomplishment of obtaining all eight was reserved for the elite of the elite trainers, those who were considered prodigies of Pokemon training.
Birch raised his voice, cutting through the clamor. "Now I realize that this may seem quite the requirement, so to assist with this, the Hoenn League has decided to provide you applicants with some assistance." He pressed a button on the podium, and the screen shifted to a large room filled with shelves lined with dozens of Pokeballs on each shelf. "These Pokeballs each contain a Pokemon donated by one of the Hoenn gyms, and they will serve as your starter Pokemon. As many of you know, the traditional starters of the Hoenn region are Torchic, Treeko, and Mudkip. Unfortunately, there are not enough to go to all of you. As such, it was decided to combine them with other Pokemon donated by the gyms. You will choose a random Pokemon from the selection you see here. They will all be young and relatively inexperienced in battle. However," His face grew severe, and a chill settled over the room as his eyes scanned the faces in the crowd, "do not underestimate the deadly potential of Pokemon. Even a simple Wurmple is capable of killing a human. The weakest Pokemon is still stronger than a human. Going on a Pokemon journey is a serious endeavor. It is a genuine possibility that you could wind up being hurt or even killed in extreme cases. As such, we will need you to sign this waiver signifying your willingness to participate despite the risk."
A stack of paper was passed around with a bullet point version of what Professor Birch had said, as well as a small statement near the bottom.
I, as indicated below, acknowledge that I have been informed of the risks and stipulations of becoming a Hoenn Pokemon League-sponsored Pokemon Trainer, and by signing my name, I accept the terms as they have been dictated to me.
Malic received a copy and, after reading through the terms once again, signed his name without any hesitation. Looking around, he saw that many had already done the same. A few people ended up walking out, some in tears, but most of those seated remained so.
Birch collected them and riffled through quickly. He nodded to himself, placing the papers down and smiling at the remaining applicants. "Well, with that out of the way, you are all official candidates for the HPL New Trainer Initiative." A cheer broke out from the middle of the room that quickly spread. Birch allowed the celebration to continue for a while, then clapped his hands. "Now, if you follow me, we will proceed to the testing area."
A soft warm glow of sunlight quickly replaced the white artificial light of the lab as the group exited the auditorium, Birch leading them up to a wall made of crystal-clear windows, revealing a lush open grass field. A few hundred meters from the lab, a dense forest acted as a background for the field, the sunlight streaming through the leaves and illuminating the forest floor in erratic patches. To the right, the gently rolling grass fields are replaced by harsh pillars of stone and rough, rocky hills. On the left was a large, deep blue lake with a small stream that ran back into the forest, large smooth rocks dotting the banks on either side.
Birch walked past the window to a door with a small keypad off to the side. Punching in a long series of numbers, the door opened with a hiss of air. He motioned for the group to follow him and stepped inside. Malic followed along with the crowd and entered the same room shown on the monitor just a few minutes ago. His eyes were instantly transfixed on the shiny metallic surfaces of the shelves upon shelves of Pokeballs lining the room. Birch stood in the middle of the room with several of his aides, each holding a clipboard. "Please follow the person that calls out your name. They will take you to your section of the room." Birch called out as he shook a clipboard in the air.
"Mark. Jamie. Diana. Sloane. Darryl…." A multitude of names were called, each returning a few minutes later with a Pokeball in their hands. Some wore ecstatic expressions, clearly proud of their new Pokemon. Others were downcast, cursing their luck and shooting dirty looks at their Pokeballs occasionally. After about 20 minutes or so, "Malic."
Malic looked up and noticed that Professor Birch called his name. He stepped forward from the crowd. This was it.
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Birch peered up from the clipboard, the teen beside him muttering swears under his breath at the small Pokeball clasped in his hand. Whether they realized it or not, the tests had already begun. The delayed entrance to the lab hadn't even been the start. No, it had begun as soon as they were escorted to the lab. Each ranger completed a basic outline of observations on their assigned candidate, assessing things like basic personality and response to the more powerful Pokemon used to transport them. Several candidates were ruled out based on those reports, primarily those too obviously afraid of the Pokemon.
Finishing some brief notes detailing his potential concerns for Daryl, Birch scanned the next applicant's profile. Malic, seventeen years old, orphan, had limited options, a situation he had seen in far too many candidates but made them perfect for the League's purposes. After all, if they had no other option, they would have to become great trainers in order to survive. "Malic," he said without looking up; the listed address, Grovewood Orphanage, seemed faintly familiar to him.
Hearing no response to the name, he looked up to call the name again, only to be met with a pair of cyan eyes. 'I didn't even hear him.' It wasn't often someone could sneak up on him, much less a new trainer. His frequent research expeditions kept the senses he developed as a trainer sharp. 'Maybe not as sharp as I thought.'
"Just to make sure, you're Malic, correct?" The silent young man nodded; his expression as muted as his footsteps. Birch sighed as he motioned for the young man to follow him. 'Whatever happened to some good old-fashioned enthusiasm?' Birch mused as they walked past row after row of Pokeballs. It was an odd experience for the professor, seeing someone so nonplussed about receiving a Pokemon. He reasoned that perhaps Malic was trying not to get his hopes up, but even that wouldn't explain his lack of expression. Excitement, anxiety, confidence, and hope were all usual and even expected reactions and typically helped influence Birch's opinion on new trainers.
Candidate 419, Malic, displayed capability for stealth, moving within a few feet of the assessor, Professor Birch, without being noticed. Malic displays little to no visible emotion regarding receiving a Pokemon, potential signs of Pokemon trauma, resentment towards trainers/Pokemon, or a general lack of emotions. Emotional barriers could present issues with proper Bonding, will continue to observe.
Birch finished his small note just as they reached a shelf with dark blue tape on the upper portion, a few Pokeballs already missing. "Go right ahead, young man! Choose your very first Pokemon!" Birch pumped a fist in the air, hoping to inspire some sort of reaction from Malic.
Malic just stared at Birch with a blank expression for a few seconds before turning back to the shelf. Birch dropped the silly pose, his eyes focusing on Malic as he walked down the row.
There was a Pokemon for everyone; at least, Birch believed so. It was up to fate to see if Malic could choose the one right for him. Even if his mannerisms seemed off to Birch, the accurate indication would be how Malic reacted to whatever Pokemon he chose and how the Pokemon responded to him.
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Malic's heart was racing. The jacket, which had felt cool even in the Hoenn sun, was suddenly stifling, sweat pouring down his back. This was it. Ever since he had sent in his application, he had wondered what this moment would feel like and who his partner would be. Danes and Lukas, once they found out he was going to be a trainer, had bombarded him with all of the cool Pokemon he should get, from monstrous beasts like Tyranitar and Dragonite to their personal favorites of Sneasel and Scizor.
Even in the crowd of people, whispered prayers to Arceus for a powerful Pokemon seemed to be commonplace. Malic couldn't understand it. Perhaps his inability to comprehend stemmed from his lack of motivation as a trainer? Of course, Malic did want to become a Trainer; there was no doubt in his mind about that. But was becoming strong really all there was to be a trainer? Any Pokemon had the potential to be dangerous. Even common Pokemon, like the Tailow and Zigzagoon who hung around the Orphanage, had teeth and claws, not to mention whatever Moves they knew. Didn't they hear Professor Birch's warning?
Sparing a glance at the man, Malic held back a shudder. While the professor was friendly, and his antics somewhat amusing, Malic couldn't help but withdraw into himself as those eyes watched him. Cold, detached, judging, as if searching for every flaw he had. It was the same eyes, the ones everyone had when they visited the orphanage. When they rejected him. He quashed those thoughts as best he could, locking them back into the darkened corners of his mind, and tried to focus on the task at hand.
He looked at the rows of gleaming Pokeballs, each identical to the next. How was he supposed to choose from this many? Randomly grabbing one would be the easiest, but that didn't sit right with Malic. This was supposed to be his first Pokemon, his most trusted companion. How could he leave it to chance? No, there would have to be something, a sign of some sort. So, he began to walk.
He ran his hand along the shelves, his fingertips grazing each ball. Shelf after shelf, he paused on each ball for a second or two, hoping to feel, to know it was the one. Minutes passed, and Malic began to wonder if all he was accomplishing was looking incompetent in front of the Professor. After all, from what he had seen, most people had come back after a minute or two at the most.
The doubt grew as he grew closer and closer to the end of the row with nothing to show for it. Maybe he should just grab one? What did it really matter anyway? People like him weren't special. People like him didn't get…a glowing Pokeball? The Pokeball itself was ordinary, with nothing distinguishing it from all the others besides the wisps of white light drifting around it. As he stared at it, a dull throb began at the back of his eyes, growing in intensity the longer he looked until he had to avert his eyes. The pain subsided rather quickly, and when he turned back, the Pokeball sat innocently on the shelf, no glow in sight. 'What was that?'
Despite not knowing exactly what just happened, Malic had asked for a sign, and he'd be hard-pressed to think of a clearer one than that. He plucked the Pokeball from the shelf, the metal smooth and cool against his palm. Birch suddenly popped up from behind Malic, his head leaning over Malic's left shoulder. "What are you waiting for? Let's see what you got. Just give it a toss over there!" Birch pointed to an open space at the end of the shelves. Malic, feeling like a kid at Christmas, nodded and gently lobbed the Pokeball into the air. The red and white sphere burst open mid-air, a whitish-blue light hitting the ground and fading, revealing the Pokémon as the ball flew back into Malic's hand.
The Pokemon stood on two stubby legs with long arms that ended in 2 sharp-looking claws. It was covered in short tan fur except for the underbelly, which had a pink oval on it and two darker brown stripes running widthwise across its back. Its head was round with a tuft of spiked fur on top, and its face consisted of tired-looking, half-lidded eyes with dark brown rings around them, a pink pig-like nose and a dazed, half grin on its face. It yawned, peering around before turning to Malic. "Slaaaa?" It said in a slow, questioning manner, its head tilted to one side as it gently swayed from side to side.
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"Well, this is certainly a surprise. I didn't expect Norman to send a Slakoth in. It certainly is a big one, though. It might be a meter tall, maybe even a bit more." Birch mused, speaking loud enough to be heard as he watched Malic out of the corner of his eye. Despite its evolved form being the ace of a Major Gym Leader, even one considered on par with the elite four, many thought the Slakoth line worthless to train. They lacked the innate drive that most Pokémon possessed, and their slothful nature presented immediate roadblocks to training, something most new trainers lacked the patience to try and overcome. But, for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, Birch felt that might not be the case with this particular candidate.
So lost in thought, Birch didn't notice that Malic started walking over to Slakoth until he was nearly in front of it. "Hey, you should be careful! Remember, Pokemon can be dangerous if you…" His words halted as he saw Malic kneel before Slakoth, who looked back at him. Neither one moved for some time, seemingly content to stare at each other.
Birch remained still, his eyes darting between Malic's face and the sharp claws of Slakoth. He couldn't tell if it was stupidity or arrogance that had Malic getting so close to an essentially wild Pokémon, but at that distance, there wasn't much he could do. Any move he made could see an attack launched at Malic. Thankfully, Slakoth were passive enough that it would probably be okay, so long as Malic didn't try to touch it.
Malic raised a hand, his motions smooth and controlled as he stretched his hand over towards the Slakoth. "Shit," Birch reached down to his waist, fingers dancing on a Pokeball. The dopey-looking eyes lazily traced the hand as it came closer and closer to Slakoth's head until it made contact, gently pressing down, flattening the spikey tuft of fur. Malic began scratching lightly, and before long, the Slakoth seemed even more relaxed than it had previously. It even nuzzled in slightly, scraping its cheek against the Malic's palm. The petting continued for a while before Malic stopped and retracted his hand. Slakoth blearily looked up at Malic and remained motionless for a few more seconds.
Birch stood still also, though that was more due to shock than anything else. He had seen official starter Pokémon, bred to be more approachable and friendly towards people, react less kindly than that on first contact with a new trainer. Approaching Pokémon like that just wasn't done. Granted, it was a younger Slakoth, so the laziness coupled with its youth could make it more inclined not to react, but it was still essentially a freshly caught Pokémon. Birch broke from his thoughts as the Slakoth began to move.
Slakoth slowly stepped forward and started making its way around Malic until it was facing his back. Malic didn't move, remaining in the same crouched position, only turning his head to keep the Slakoth in view. 'At least he has the sense to do that,' Birch thought as he once again prepared a Pokéball. In a feline Pokémon, this positioning would be akin to hunting behaviors, but Birch couldn't imagine the same being true for a Slakoth.
Slakoth placed its arms on Malic's shoulders, slowly climbing up his back until it rested its head on Malic's shoulder. It nuzzled its cheek against Malic's before closing its eyes. Birch didn't know how it had happened, but the Slakoth seemed content with its new perch, and, for a moment, Malic was replaced by a dark-haired youth, Slakoth peeking over his shoulder.
His sense of nostalgia was broken by a laugh from the previously stoic boy. Malic stood, his Slakoth hooked onto his back and already snoozing. Though his expression remained unchanged, his eyes almost seemed to glow, alight with a spark that Birch was all too familiar with.
"Professor," Malic said, Birch finding his voice surprisingly smooth for a teenager, "Do I have to return him to the Pokeball? I think he wants to stay out here." Birch smiled. His previous doubts about the boy, no, the young man in front of him, were all but erased with that simple question. "No, I dare say you don't," he replied, watching as Malic gently pet Slakoth's head, light snores accompanying the small but genuine smile on Malic's face. 'Once again, I remember why I became a Pokemon professor. Uniting people with Pokemon, discovering new ways for us to live and grow together. I just wish they had an easier road ahead of them.'
Birch cleared his throat. "I believe it's time for us to return. More people need to choose a starter after all." Malic nodded, his smile shrinking but still there as Birch walked him back towards the group, his new partner snoring on his back.