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Slate, The Generalist Master
S.S. Anne I - Why is the World Moving?

S.S. Anne I - Why is the World Moving?

S.S. Anne I - Why is the World Moving?

The S.S. Anne was not the first of its name nor would it be the last. It was a business that had been run by the same family for generations, changing their methods and ships to match the times. In recent years this took the form of a moderate sized cruise ship that could traverse the distance between Celadon and Fuschia city in three days.

However that would only be in optimal conditions. The weather, status of the sea, current season, and the whims of the Wild Pokémon could force that time to stretch up to a week. It was a risk all travelers took, knowing that their planned arrival time was very much in flux.

Slate had a much bigger problem than a variable arrival time.

“Bleh.”

“You’re such a baby. It’s been two days since we left!”

Slate clutched the railing and tried to ignore the waves crashing beneath him. Unfortunately the ship dipped slightly and he felt a fresh wave of bile rising.

“Bleh.”

“That was a tiny one, come on. Fortify!”

Elvira’s encouragement was anything but, however the gentle back rub she was giving Slate was highly appreciated by the seasick young man. Vulpix nudged Slate’s knees with her paws, offering her own comfort.

“Bleh. Alright, I think that was everything I ate in the last year. I don’t know when I ate so many Razz Berries though,” Slate said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Elvira shrugged. “I think in Celadon. At that bakery that made muffins in the shape of Pokémon.”

“Oh yeah. I kept buying Bulbasaurs because she loved the tiny ones of herself. Every bite broke her little heart.”

“Tasty though,” Elvira said, drooling slightly. Slate grimaced.

“No more food talk, please. I’m going back inside and hoping this passes quickly. I want to be functional for the tournament tomorrow.”

They could have traveled to Fuschia in any number of ways but fortune favored them. The tournament they took part in Pewter months ago came with an added bonus of being invited to another tournament in Celadon. That tournament would take place tomorrow, on one of the Battle Decks on the S.S. Anne, with a number of other skilled Trainers. And the prizes were rumored to be very special indeed.

“What Pokémon do you think they’ll put up for prizes at this one?” Slate asked Elvira as they made their way indoors. A number of other Trainers and travelers surrounded them, going to and from the various amenities onboard. Slate staggered around a trio of giggling children who were dancing after a Spinda.

Spinda’s erratic movements hit Slate full force, causing him to collapse against a wall. A nearby Trainer laughed at Slate but turned his attention back to two Machokes who were arm wrestling. Elvira pulled Slate upright.

“Come on, let’s get some juice in you. I’m hoping for some Ghost-types. Most likely more Pokémon from another region, although the real question is which one?” she said.

“One?” Slate asked, falling into an empty chair. Vulpix hopped up onto his lap and curled into a ball and he ran his fingers through her soft fur, trying to distract himself. “The Pokémon we won in Pewter come from two different regions.”

Elvira waved down a server and placed an order for drinks. “That’s a good point. I hope I win or win a Pokémon that I can trade for one. Is that Clair? Hey, Clair! Over here!”

Slate turned and saw a tall Trainer stride toward them, the cape that flowed down her shoulders billowing in a captivating manner. She ignored Slate entirely as she nodded to Elvira. “Hey El, I wondered if you’d show up. How’s it going? How is everyone?”

The two young women caught up while Slate accepted their drinks and eagerly downed them. His juice went down easily but Elvira’s coffee was as black as her soul and twice as unpleasant to suffer through. His coughing caught their attention.

“I don’t know you,” Clair said. She paused, her eyes flicking up and down Slate’s body. “What’s wrong with you?”

Elvira clapped an arm on his shoulder, swiping her coffee back. “Slate apparently gets seasick which destroys the image I had built up in my head of his invincibility. Help me collect blackmail material for later, Clair-Bear, and we’ll ferret out his secrets.”

“Let me die in peace,” Slate muttered. Clair finally cracked a smile.

“So he’s a drama queen,” she said. Slate flipped her off. “So well-mannered. Your mother must be proud.”

Images of Maggie flashed through his mind. Slate mustered up the energy to glare at Clair before shoving himself to his feet. He caught Vulpix who bared her teeth at a surprised looking Clair. “I’m going back to our berth.”

“What was that about?” Slate heard Clair ask before the pair were swallowed up by the crowd. Slate pushed his way through it while draping Vulpix across his shoulders.

“How are you doing, Vulpix?” he asked her, scratching her chin in the way he knew she loved. Her tails thumped his back.

Vulpix pushed her face against his before giving him an affectionate lick. He bore it good-naturedly, this wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time she did this. A little bit of Poké-breath was more than fair in exchange for the companionship she gave him.

“That’s good. Let’s try to find some soup or something to see if it settles my stomach.”

All of the counters and tables Slate came across were picked over by the other passengers, leaving crumbs behind. A passing server told Slate the kitchens would soon close for the night and that he might have better luck if he ordered from one of the restaurants on board.

“Let’s just go back to our berth. I’ll eat something from our supplies and we’ll catch an early night before tomorrow,” Slate told Vulpix. Someone tugged on his sleeve. He turned and nearly flinched at the Seviper almost touching his face.

“Where did you get your Vulpix?” Slate was so distracted by the Seviper that he didn’t see the teenage girl it was wrapped around, hanging off her shoulders and wrapped around her waist to support itself.

“I won her in the tournament that brought us here,” Slate said after a moment of thought. Vulpix barked at the Seviper, causing it to back off. The girl nodded.

“I raised Seviper from an egg. She’s been with me ever since she hatched. I’m Lucy by the way,” the now named Lucy held out her hand.

Slate shook it and noted her firm grip. “I’m Slate. Have you been a Trainer long, Lucy? Seviper looks strong.”

And Seviper did. Its long body was wrapped firmly around Lucy hiding its true length but with how neither she or the Pokémon trembled at the action spoke of familiarity with the action. And even if that Pokémon was light that was still no easy feat to do casually without extensive training. Pokémon were far denser than they appeared.

“I’m not a Trainer, not yet! I have another year before I can start my journey,” Lucy said with a small pout. She then gave Slate a sneaky grin. “My sister and I have been training Seviper when our parents aren’t watching. She’s going to be the strongest Seviper ever!”

Slate smiled at that. “So no tournament for you?”

“Not this year. But next year I’m going to enter! These tournaments always have the best prizes. My family always gets tickets to watch but I can’t wait to participate.”

That made Slate pause. “So you know what the prizes are? Could you share?”

Lucy gave Slate a suddenly shy smile, confusing him. “Well, I’m not supposed to, but I suppose I could. If you, you know.”

Slate almost nodded. He understood. “It’s alright,” he said, reassuring Lucy.

She blinked at him in shock. “It is?” she asked, her face turning red in embarrassment. Slate nodded.

“I understand entirely,” he told her. “I feel the same way.”

“You do?” Lucy’s face was practically crimson at this point.

“I do. But you’ll have to ask Vulpix for permission.”

Lucy blinked at Slate. “I do?” turning her gaze to the curiously watching Vulpix. Vulpix’s tails thumped Slate’s back.

“Of course! It’d be rude not to,” Slate said.

“Well, I suppose?” Lucy shared a look with her Seviper. She nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“You want to pet her, after all. It’s very important to get her permission to do so,” Slate said, certain that everything was clear.

Lucy’s face went through several rapid changes of emotions and colors as she processed Slate’s words. She nervously giggled, surprising Slate, before looking down at the ground, her face completely red.

“Vulpix, could I pet you?” she asked in a quiet voice. Vulpix’s tails thumped against Slate’s back faster.

“She’s saying yes,” Slate said with a small smile. Lucy reached out a hand and gently rubbed Vulpix’s head. She withdrew it a moment later.

“Thank you,” Lucy said. She finally looked back up at Slate although he noted her face was still red.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Your face is red.”

Lucy nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes! I’m fine. Everything is fine.” The redness intensified the longer Slate looked at her.

“If you’re sure then.”

The conversation died down between them as both Trainers looked at one another expectantly. The longer it stretched the more Slate was confused and he wondered if Lucy was the forgetful type.

Just as he was ready to open his mouth to say something, Seviper suddenly hissed, looking to the side. Though Slate saw nothing other than a crowd of passengers and their Pokémon, Lucy saw something that made her wilt.

“That’s mom and dad. I’ve got to go but I’ll be rooting for you to win!” she said as she began to walk away.

“Wait!” Slate said. Lucy whirled around, breathing heavily and with wide eyes. “You didn’t tell me what you know,” he said with a grin.

Lucy swallowed nervously before she squared her shoulders. She walked back to Slate and leaned in close to his ear to whisper. And with each word, Slate’s eyes grew bigger and bigger.

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“Good luck,” she said, her hand lingering on his arm.

“Thank you,” Slate said, watching her walk away with a smile on her face. A smile grew on his as her words sank in. He turned to Vulpix.

“We need to win,” he told her.

Vulpix’s tails thumped his back.

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“Why are you in such a chipper mood? Shouldn’t you be clutching a bucket?” Elvira asked.

Slate only smiled. The night was rough and not just because of his seasickness keeping him awake for most of it. The little sleep he did get was disrupted by the other Trainers in their berth, each tossing and breathing in a way that kept Slate awake. He finally gave up on it and lay there, Vulpix on his chest, trying to master the shaking in his limbs and queasiness in his belly.

The light breakfast helped, especially when it didn’t come back up. Slate had followed Elvira and Clair silently to the registration area, standing behind them as they waited in line.

Clair shot Slate an unreadable look but said nothing. He wondered if they’d get a match in this tournament but pushed that thought aside. He needed to focus to keep his breakfast down.

Or to distract himself. “How do you and Elvira know each other anyway?” Slate asked as they shuffled forward.

Clair glanced at him out of the corner of his eye before replying. “Our grandparents were old friends. Our families have always known one another,” she finally said.

Elvira snorted. “That’s one way of putting it. Her family tried to exterminate mine a few hundred years ago. And every few decades since then. It’s only our parent’s generation that stopped that although I have a few uncles who still plot.”

“The Viper and Stag?” Clair asked. Elvira nodded.

“You’d think the war was still going on with how they talked,” Elvira said as they approached the front. “Have you guys decided which Pokémon you’re going to use?”

“Vulpix,” Slate grunted.

Elvira rolled her eyes at him. “And the rest? You’re spoiled for options unlike some of us.”

“We’ll get you more Ghosts,” Slate managed to say without throwing up.

“We might give you Slate once he kicks the bucket,” Clair snarked. “And you’ll see what I field on the field. Leave the shadow games to your miscreant uncles.”

Clair broke off from their group to register at an open attendant with Elvira moving toward another. Slate shuffled forward slowly, earning him a few snickers from some of the closest Trainers. Clair finished up quickly and Slate took her place.

“Trainer ID,” the bored man said. Slate handed his over and the man pinged it for information on his terminal. “Uh, whoa. Okay, which title do you want to be registered under?”

“Trainer is fine,” Slate said. The man nodded, typing away at a computer.

“Alright, Trainer Slate. And which Pokémon will you be using? Three Pokémon max, no swaps and no healing items may be used between battles,” he rattled off quickly.

Slate had spent the entire night thinking about it. These tournaments were just as much about stamina as they were about skill and power. He needed to field Pokémon who could go the extra mile no matter what.

“Vulpix.” Was an obvious choice. With the humid air and her precision, Vulpix would be able to be very effective in the tournament.

“Growlithe.” Was more difficult. Slate had considered Lairon before he realized his Pokémon’s greatest strengths would be negated by the vessel: a lack of land. Bulbasaur was likewise limited due to the lack of wildlife she could use for cover, but Growlithe would benefit from the open field.

“Flaaffy.” Slate had almost considered using Scyther but the tournament area had a roof that limited aerial Pokémon. With such a limitation on Scyther’s mobility, Slate’s choice was made easy. Flaaffy would be a perfect, and brutal, counter to most Pokémon.

The attendant nodded before handing Slate a paper with the number 15 on it. “Pay attention to the scoreboards. If you miss your scheduled battle you forfeit with no exceptions. Thank you for participating and goodluck.”

Slate thanked the man before shuffling toward where Elvira stood against a wall. He leaned against it gratefully and tried to relax.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Elvira asked. “You’re not looking too good.”

He waved his hand at her. “I’ll be fine. I just need the world to stop moving.”

“The world is always moving. And we’re on a boat so we’re doubly so.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

Fortunately for Slate’s sanity and stomach the tournament was about to begin. A man in a purple striped suit stood on a platform and held a microphone to his lips. The crowd quickly silenced itself and anticipation pooled in Slate’s belly.

“Hello everyone and welcome to our annual Kanto tournament! It heartens me to see so many familiar faces and even more new ones, I look forward to seeing all of you battle your hearts out. For those of you who don’t know who I am, I am your host, your patron, Joseph Stone!”

Slate joined the crowd of Trainers in applauding the man. Joseph Stone, the president of the interregional Devon Corporation, was known even in Kanto. The man’s family was famous for its generosity, and it was a rare week that went by that they weren’t spotted giving a rare Pokémon or stone away to promising Trainers. The tournaments were an extension of that and were very popular with new Trainers seeking to gain powerful Pokémon.

But even experienced Trainers participated. Even if they weren’t adding the Pokémon to their own roster, the Pokémon won could fetch a wide range of sums depending on the Pokémon in question. The Alolan Vulpix Slate won in Pewter would be considered one of the more common prizes, whose rarity only had to do with the distance Alola was from Kanto. But Slate didn’t mind that as he found Vulpix’s versatility and power were more than adequate. That she worked well with him and his other Pokémon was ice on the Ice-type.

But the entry into the exclusive tournaments, like the one they were aboard the S.S. Anne for, promised to have much rarer Pokémon. A fact that President Stone confirmed.

“Now, I know there has been a great deal of secrecy around this tournament, and you’re all Garchomping at the bit to know more,” he paused, chuckling to himself. A few Trainers politely laughed alongside him at the poor joke. Slate’s fingers dug into his palms, the weight of his Poké Balls heavy on their belt.

“There has been a good reason for this as we had to seek special permission from the Pokémon League to give away this year’s prizes. For you see, this year and only at this tournament we have permission to give away Pseudo-Legends!”

The crowd of Trainers went wild. Beside Slate Elvira whooped and hollered alongside them, speaking excitedly to Mimikyu who sat on her shoulder. But Slate was one of the few Trainers in the room who stood silent, contemplating what that would mean.

Pseudo-Legends were a very small class of Pokémon that stood head and shoulders above other Pokémon. Each region only had a handful of these powerful lines and they were usually the Pokémon that dominated and conquered the surrounding area, resulting in the rise of civilizations across the known world. So common was this phenomenon that the Regions who didn’t possess a native Pseudo-Legend line could be counted on one hand with fingers left over.

What made these Pokémon so special was a subject of ongoing debate. The commonly accepted theory was that these Pokémon were the remnants of fallen Legendary Pokémon, the Pokémon who held near total dominion over their respective domains. The Pseudo-Legends lost much of that power but stood heads and shoulders above other Pokémon with their innate power. They were highly sought after Pokémon for this fact alone.

They were also heavily tracked by the Pokémon League for most Trainers. Properly trained and sufficiently grown, these Pokémon could cause untold amounts of destruction. All Trainers were warned of the consequences of improperly rearing these powerhouses and warned of failing in restraining them.

Once, a few years ago, Slate had sat in the Mt. Silver Pokémon Center watching the news with the Doctor and Nurse Joys. A wild Kommo-o had been attacked in its nest in the Vast Poni Canyon by Poachers, who sought its eggs and young for their own gain. The Kommo-o killed sixteen of the men and dozens of their Pokémon while the others retreated to the nearby city for safety, so certain that they wouldn’t be followed.

The Kommo-o descended on the city like a furious God, tearing it apart while Trainers tried to stop its attack. The newscopters followed the attack from afar as the enraged Pokémon ripped apart a city that once housed 20,000 people. When the Pokémon was finally killed, over 3,000 people were injured while nearly 600 were killed.

An investigation afterward confirmed the Kommo-o was nearly three hundred years old and had once been owned by a Trainer on the island who had long since retired and died. But this was the truth of Pseudo-Legends. They were long lived, powerful, and forces of nature.

And the Devon Corp was offering them.

“Why aren’t you excited?” Elvira asked Slate with a grin on her face.

“I found out last night,” he grunted. Elvira gasped.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were with Clair.”

“No excuse.”

Anything Slate could say that would forever go unsaid as President Stone calmed the audience once more. “Yes, I know. We have six Pseudo-Legends with us today and four of you will be walking away with one. Would anyone like to know what they are?”

A deafening roar answered him, causing him to laugh. “Very good, very good indeed. Well, first up we have a Bagon from Champion Drake! He’s a feisty little bugger with a thick skull. Very strong.”

On the wall behind President Stone a display lit up, showing off the Dragon-type someone might win. The Trainers clapped eagerly and more than a few eyed it with interest.

“Next up we have a Beldum from my family’s colony. It’s a curious little one, eager to explore the world and to grow. I wonder which of you will claim it?”

More scattered applause but louder than the applause Bagon received. An image of a Beldum appeared next to Bagon, floating calmly.

“And then we have a Gible! But this is a very special Gible you see, freshly hatched from an egg laid by the Gabite of Sinnoh’s new Champion!”

The room burst into applause as the Trainers talked among themselves about owning a Gible with such a lineage. While Champion Drake of the Orange Islands was strong, most Trainers didn’t equate him to a “real” Champion from one of the other Regions. Slate would withhold his judgment until he ever met the man, if ever.

“How about something a little more local? From the den of your very own Champion Lance, a Dratini!”

That earned a respectable amount of applause. Slate couldn’t help but glare at the blue Pokémon that appeared on the projector, knowing that one day it would evolve into a Pokémon that still haunted his nightmares. Maybe he could send Flaaffy after a few Dragonites until they both felt better.

President Stone seemed to be hitting his stride. “Or perhaps the darker side of life calls to you. It’s spooky, it’s kooky, it's from Elite Four Agatha herself, Dreepy!”

Slate was briefly distracted by Elvira’s soft gasp but turned his attention back to the newly revealed Pokémon. It was interesting, in a ghostly-arrow sort of way. He wondered how it would battle.

“And last but certainly not least. Fresh from Paldea, one of the rarest Pokémon in the world. It’s a Dragon-type. It’s an Ice-type. It’s Frigibax!”

This earned the loudest applause yet as the Trainers discussed a dual-type Pokémon that negated one of its worst weaknesses. Dragon-types had long reigned across the known world, even with their weakness to Fairy and Ice-type Pokémon. A Dragon that could outright ignore one of those weaknesses would be a prize for any Trainer. The image that appeared was small but Slate didn’t doubt that it would evolve into something amazing.

“And every one of these Pokémon comes with a complimentary Pokéenergy reading, free of charge! You’ll know exactly what you’ll need to train them into true behemoths!”

President Stone allowed the shouts and cheers to go on for a little bit longer before he calmed the crowd. “Excellent. I’m glad you’re all excited for the prizes and now it’s time for you to show us your skills! Pokémon! Trainers! Are you ready?”

Slate couldn’t help but join in the excited crowd of Trainers. “Yes!”

“Then let us begin!”

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Time Tracker:

Days passed in Chapter: 5

Total Days: 185

Trainer Card:

Name: Slate

Occupation: Trainer, Healer, Trainee Joy, Field Healer, Saffron Gym Trainer (Former)

Ambitions:

* To find his long lost Starter

* To become a Generalist Master, a Master of all Types

Badges: Boulder(II), Cascade(II), Thunder(II), Marsh(III), Rainbow(II), Graystone(I)

Trophies: Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament Qualifier (3rd)

Carry Limit: 8/14

Key items: Aron’s Rock

Pokémon: 8

Name: Scyther (F)

Type: Bug/Flying

Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy, Silver Wind, Agility, Roost, Light Screen, Double Team, Bug Buzz

Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure

Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)

Type: Ice

Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray, Draining Kiss, Icy Wind, Mist, Aurora Veil, Freeze Dry

Core Moves: Swift, Rest, Detect, Endure

Name: Lairon (M)

Type: Steel/Rock

Potential Moves: Dragon Rush, Iron Defense, Rock Polish, Heavy Slam, Stone Edge, Dig

Core Moves: Rest, Protect, Swift, Detect, Endure

Name: Chansey (F) (Non-Combatant)

Type: Normal

Potential Moves: Seismic Toss, Life Dew, Drain Punch, Calm Mind, Gravity, Heal Pulse, Soft-Boiled, Trailblaze

Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure

Name: Flaaffy (M)

Type: Electric

Potential Moves: Charge, Thunderbolt, Cotton Guard, Thunder Punch, Ice Punch

Core Moves: Rest, Endure, Swift, Protect

Name: Machoke (F)

Type: Fighting

Potential Moves: Counter, Revenge, Poison Jab, Snore, Close Combat, Bulk Up

Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Substitute, Endure, Protect

Name: Bulbasaur (F)

Type: Grass/Poison

Potential Moves: Ingrain, Sludge Bomb, Petal Blizzard, Trailblaze, Petal Dance, Leech Seed, Growth

Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Substitute, Protect

Name: Growlithe (M)

Type: Fire

Potential Moves: Morning Sun, Crunch, Dig, Flamethrower

Core Moves: Rest, Endure, Swift