-The Dragon King-
-Yankee in Wonderland: Ch2-
Marcus stared up at the sterile white metal plates that made up the roof of the room he’d been imprisoned in.
“Patient was found knocked out in the middle of the forest with no ID or belongings on him, and was admitted into the Human recovery ward with various minor injuries.” A young and perky nurse with bright pink hair said out loud as she tapped things into the tablet she was holding. “Current hypothesis is that he was attacked or kidnapped by a wild Pokémon.”
“Patient has a name you know.” Marcus mused out loud, even though he knew it didn’t matter. “Patient has told you his name several times.”
“Patient has blond hair, blue eyes, and an oval shaped head.”
“Oval? My head’s not an oval, I definitely have a jawline.” Marcus cut in, slightly offended. “It’s the only reason my ex ever dated me.”
“Patient height is 5 feet and 11 inches tall.”
“11 and a half , really if you’re going to round it, round it up to 6 feet. You know, a nice whole number, for ease of cataloging.”
“Patient may have self esteem issues.”
“I do not.”
“Patient is fit but underweight for his height.”
“Living off field rations will do that to you, especially when you’re expected to ration the rations.”
“Patient has recounted wild stories with total confidence, regardless of the fact they make no logical sense. Potential sign of mental tampering, theorized Ghost or Psychic influence. Considering the name the patient has given, and believes is theirs, does not show up in any database, the idea of mental tampering has significant weight.”
“What do you mean ‘believes’? It is my name.”
“Patent has numerous scars, further reinforcing the theory of a Pokémon attack. Some of them are weeks if not months old, suggesting prolonged trauma. Combined with how intricate the mental tampering seems to have been, the patient might have been held hostage for a long time.”
“The scars add to my roguish charm.”
“No signs of drug or alcohol traces in the patient's blood test.”
“No by choice, I assure you. Alcohol sounds like the best way to process everything that’s happened recently.”
Nurse Joy, THE Nurse Joy from the anime and video games, looked up from her tablet and gave Marcus a deadpan stare.
“Patient is uncooperative, and an asshole.”
“Patient might be more cooperative if Patient was called Patient’s name.”
“Current best hypothesis is that the Patent was attacked by a feral Ghost pokemon, and was dragged out into the woods where he was attacked and had his memories altered to remember a fake war as a form of long term mental torture. I’m choosing to follow the recommended protocol for this sort of situation and keep him here for a month to see if his memory condition improves, but beyond tending to his physical injuries, there's not much more we can do without the aid of a high end psychic. End entry.” Nurse Joy’s tablet turned off and she handed it to the big pink blob sitting behind her. “Would you be a dear and take this to my desk for me.”
“Chansey!” The Pokemon saluted and waddled out of the room.
She then sighed and turned to Marcus.
“I’m sorry for being rude, I’ve had a bad day, and just because you’re riling me up that doesn;t make it right. I know this must be hard, trust me, I understand. But in cases like these, where a Pokemon might have messed with your head, I legally can’t call you by any names or reference to any events that don’t have real world verification. Doing so runs the risk of permanently damaging your mental state.” Nurse Joy smiled at him apologetically. “But I promise we’re going to do everything we can to get you back up on your feet.”
“Nah, I’m sorry, Miss. I’m just pissed at my current situation and am taking it out on you.” Marcus sighed and flopped back down on the medical bed with a sigh. “You don’t deserve it.”
“Oh honey, you have every right to be angry about what happened to you, you don’t need to apologize to me. Compared to some of the pokemon I have to deal with, you’ve been practically a saint.” She patted him on the head, in a way that would have been condescending if she wasn’t so sincerely emotional. “We’ll help you put your life back together the best we can so you can figure out what you want to do with your future.”
“I already know what I want to do. It’s blatantly obvious.” He gestured out the window of his hospital room, to the world beyond. Well, it was a really shit view, that was just the brick wall of the building next door, but still! There was a world beyond! “I’m gonna become a Pokemon trainer!”
“So you’ve told me.” Nurse Joy’s smile became just a tiny bit strained, and the head patting became less genuine. “Just know that the world is a wide place and there are countless possibilities. Don't shoohorn yourself into one goal, and don’t give up hope we can’t get your old memories back.”
She stood up and walked towards the door with a wave. “I’ll knock and tell you when Dinner’s ready. You’re free to walk around town and explore in the meanwhile, to see if it will jog your memories.”
Mark watched her go with a sigh and draped an arm over his eyes.
“What a mess.”
It wasn’t every day that a crazy sci-fi doomsday device throws you into another reality, and not just any reality, but the one from your favorite games as a kid. Talk about crazy. If he hadn’t literally been hit over the head with a real life Pokemon, he wouldn’t believe it.
He still kinda couldn’t believe it, honestly.
Maybe the nurses were right, and something did fuck with his brain.
No. He needed to kill that train of thought before it could go any further! What he went through was REAL! He knew it was real, he had the scars from it, and the battle knowledge to prove it.
And more than that! He had English! Whatever the fuck people around here were speaking, it wasn’t English. That is a whole language, both written and spoken, which had caused Nurse Joy to look at him crazy when he first opened his mouth.
Actually, how could he understand the people here anyway? They weren’t speaking English, but he still somehow knew how to converse with them in the local language. Just casually having the entire native language deposited into your head when you drop into a new reality, just seemed too convenient to be normal. Did something happen to him?
He tried to think back. He went underground, shot the machine, there was a blast of white, then he was falling into black, and black and black and blackblackakcakcakccccccc…
His eyes glazed over for a brief moment before snapping back into focus.
What was he thinking about?
He lost his train of thought there for a moment.
Whatever, it probably wasn’t that important anyway.
A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts.
“Excuse me, Mister?” Nurse Joy called. “Your friend is here to visit you.”
“Oh, not this idiot.” Marcus grumbed under his breath and looked around the completely empty room for some excuse. “Don’t send him in! I’m busy with, uh… various important things.”
But it was too late, the door was already opening, and in walked a boy. He was short, maybe under five feet tall. He had strawberry blond hair that dropped just past his shoulders, pale white skin, and big purple (yes purple) eyes.
He wore a puffy white hoody, baby blue pants, and a pair of white running shoes with light blue laces.
Normal people might have described him as “cute” or “dainty”.
Marcus, who had survived Army boot camp, would describe him as thin, underweight, and horribly out of shape.
This was Casey Ranger, the person who, to Marcus’ eternal humiliation, had been the one to find him bleeding out in the woods and drag him to the Pokemon Center.
“Hey Mark-”
“Only my friends are allowed to call me Mark.”
“Well it’s a good thing we’re friends!” Casey chirped.
“That’s not- Ughh.” Mark groaned in exasperation. “Why are you here?”
“You were really banged up, and I was really worried you might not make it! I wanted to come by to check that you’re doing better.”
“Ah.” Marcus said blandly as it clicked in his head. This is one of those ‘best friend moments’ where the plot gives you a companion or a rival before your journey.
Yeah. No thanks.
“As much as I would love to stay and chat, I‘m afraid that Nurse Joy ordered me to go out and see the city.” He hoisted himself off the bed and waved a hand vaguely in the air. “Go out, see the sights, smell the roses, and hear the cacophony of noise that is the city. Because it might help me remember some things.”
“Oh! That’s a great idea! Can I-”
“Nope.” Mark cut him off, already closing the door. “Goodbye.”
-The Dragon King-
Apparently Pokemon Centers kept spare clothes around specifically to lend out to trainers after Pokemon attacks. This is because Pokemon moves were capable of breaking boulders, shooting acid that ate through metal, or burning an entire forest down, and could ruin even the sturdiest of outfits with a glancing blow.
(And typically, if you were brought in after a wild Pokemon Attack, you had been hit with a lot more than a glancing blow.)
Also, fun fact from Nurse Joy, Ghost type attacks on people were uncommon but frequent enough that there was a ranking system. What they thought happened to him, where he had been hypothetically kidnapped, physically tortured for months on end, and had his memories fucked with to the point he couldn’t remember his past and was an entierly different person, was a level 4.
The scale went up to level 5.
On a totally unrelated note, he wasn’t going to be trying to catch a Ghost type anytime soon.
Unfortunately free clothes meant really cheap clothes. So here he was, walking down the street in khaki shorts that felt like they were made of cardboard, and a generic t-shirt that somehow gave him with more itches than the Dust Bowl had given him. And that had been a week-long fighting retreat through the Nevada desert, in the middle of summer, with a single change of clothes, and zero showers!
But enough about the downsides of his situation! He was in the Pokemon world! (Somehow)
There were Pokemon! They were around! Just existing and doing things! There went a girl with a Pikachu laughing on her shoulder! There was a trainer having her Rapidash practice fire spin in the park! Over there was a Delibird helping sell ice cream!
He saw two guys on the TV duking it out with a Charizard and a Nidoking! It was AWESOME! Like Holy Shit!
He had landed in the heart of Eternia city, in the middle of his favorite region, Sinnoh, and baby was he fucking sold!
Marcus couldn’t help the giant grin on his face as he walked around and just took in the world around him.
It was everything he’d ever imagined it being.
Or at least, it would be as soon as he cleared up one tiny issue.
“Okay, what’s going on here?” He asked as he turned around and confronted his stalker. “Is privacy illegal now?”
“Nonono! Nothing like that!” Casey fidgeted, nervous at having been confronted. “Nurse Joy asked me to keep an eye on you in case you fainted or your injuries acted up.”
“Of course she did.” Mark rolled his eyes. “How old are you, even, anyway? You’re acting like a lost puppy.”
“Oh! Don’t worry, Mark! I’m 18, about to turn 19 in a week!” Casey’s face lit up. “Hey! My parents are holding a party! Why don’t you come?”
“I refuse to attend any party that doesn’t have alcohol.” The veteran gumbeled
“I wish I could have alcohol, my parents say they won’t let me try any until I’m at least 30. Does it taste good?”
“The best made ones taste like shit and burn your throat the whole way down.”
“Oh gosh, that sounds horrible! I understand why my parents won’t have any. Why do you drink it if it’s so bad?”
“I dunno, I’ll tell you when I find out.” Mark shrugged and walked off.
“H-Hey!” Casey yelped and chased after him. “Wait up!”
Marcus sighed and turned around again. “Okay, I’m going to be blunt since you can’t seem to pick up on cues. Why are you following me around? It is creepy.”
“O-Oh, uhm.” Casey fidgeted awkwardly. “W-Well I’ve always wanted to be a trainer, but I was born sickly, and my parents haven't ever let me leave the city. I-I’m almost 19, and still haven't started my adventure! The trainer school says the prime years to start your journey is between the ages of 14 to 16!”
“That sounds like a stupid idea.”
“Most people say it’s too late when you hit 18! And not only am I starting late, I’m still sickly. I don’t have a lot of stamina, have a poor immune system, and my asthma acts up all the time. But you- you still have so much confidence about starting a journey, even though you’re like, really old looking !”
“Gee, what a compliment.” Mark grunted. “I personally think 27 is pretty young.”
“You’re 27 !?” Casey’s eyes bulged. “I thought you were like 23! But you’re old !”
“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult. Either way I’m kind of offended.”
“So hearing you being so determined to be a Pokemon trainer, just really inspired me!”
Marcus let out a long drawn out sigh.
Casey just stared up at him with a wide smile.
“Look, kid-”
“I’m not a kid.”
“-I don’t give a shit.” Mark held up a hand to silence him. “I’m the last person you should be looking to for advice, or as some kind of role model. You’re not just barking up the wrong tree, you might as well be on the wrong side of the Mississippi river.”
…
“What’s a Missapippi?”
-The Dragon King-
Apparently there were “qualifications” to getting a Trainer license. You either need to A: personally have a person of respected stature, such as an official region Pokemon Professor or Gym trainer, sign a legal document as a guarantor, saying you were qualified. Or B: you needed to pass trainer school.
Yeah, you know that stupid school section they try to get you to do at the beginning of some of the games? The one where the NPCs will blabber about basic type matchups and tell you what berries do, even though you could just read the item descriptions? That was an actual important part of the world.
It was Bullshit!
I mean, it kind of wasn’t, because Marcus himself would set up something similar if he was in charge of the licensing. But it was bullshit because he had to take a class for literal 10 year olds instead of running out and getting started on his childhood fantasy!
Marcus readjusted the books under his arm as he made his way down a far too colorful hallway. The books were ragged, taped together, and smelled bad, but the Trainer School gave them out to students for free every year. You only had to pay for them if you broke them, or failed to return them at the end of the year.
Which was useful, because Mark was flat broke.
“Well, well, well, look what the Shtarly plucked from the guttersh and dropped on the ground.”
The absolute snottiest and brattiest voice Marcus had ever head caused him to physically stop in his tracks. It was the sort of cartoonishly stereotypical voices you could only find on TV.
“You look like you’re twenty yearsh old.”
“I’m not! I’m only 18!”
“Ha! 18? I was being sharcashtic, have you really failed the classh that many timesh? What an absolute losher!”
Marcus followed the sounds of the voice, and when he peaked around a corner of the Hallway, he found Casey backed up against a wall. But no one else was nearby?
“What a misherable creatsher you are.”
The voice spoke again and Marcus looked down to see a kid. Like, an actual child. He couldn’t be more than 11. The kid was chubby, mildly overweight, with big buck teeth, and the largest pair of glasses he’d ever seen.
And he seemed to be… bullying someone almost a third of his height taller than him?
“I’m sorry, what’s going on here?”
The two turned to him and the small child chortled in amusement. “Well, if it ishint another kosher failure nerd.”
“I’m Matthshew Birtsh. My great uncle is the famoush professhor Birtsh. And I scored the highesht on the entranshe exam, which meansh I’m favored to passh thish year, and I did it while being the youngesht in our classh.”
Matthew Birtch (“Mathshew Birtsh”) crossed his arms smugly and looked up at Mark with a “whatcha gonna do about it” face, as if what he had just said was impressive or something.
Was… was this a thing? Young kids who managed to qualify earlier than other people, like Ash did, looked down on and made fun of older people who were becoming trainers later than them?
Mark looked at Casey who seemed to not see anything out of the norm here.
“What? Are you shpeachlesh before me? Don’t worry, mosht are! Before the ashtounding name of Birtsh, you-”
“Hey, kid.” Mark nodded as Casey. “You said you looked up to me as some kinda inspiration before? I stick with what I said before, it’s a terrible idea, but let me at least show you how to deal with this problem.”
Marcus glanced around, double checking for cameras or any prying eyes.
Then he reared back and punched the little shit right in the fucking face.
-The Dragon King-
A slight oversight on the plan “smack the child” was that Casey was now following him around and looking at him like he was some sort of mystic sage.
Marcus was a bit uncomfortable with being a role model to anyone, considering how much of a fuck up his life had been, so he’d mostly been answering any big questions with quotes from his dad, and broad “interpret it how you want to” kind of responses.
But Casey’s parents were apparently loaded with cash, and Casey was willing to use a bit of his generous allowance to buy Marcus lunch at the school, so he didn’t have to run back to the Pokemon Center for a free meal. So, you know, it balanced out.
(The bribes were working)
At least the brat from the first day had been too prideful to taddle to the teachers. He confronted Marcus the next day and told him that he would make him regret being born. “Onesh I get my shtarter!”
On another note.
A major unforeseen upside to being in a game/anime world is that you get game/anime designed people.
“Alright class, welcome to the second half of your education. This is where we start going over the more complex parts of being a trainer, and really see if you're ready to go on your journey!”
The trainer school teacher, the almost stereotypically named Miss Apple, blew every single crusty dusty old ass female teacher from Mark’s old world out of the water. She was an absolute fucking bombshell MILF, who had porportions the likes of which you’d only see in anime, and might as well be wearing the “mommy teacher” kink like a badge of honor.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
And she was single.
“Ho-ly shit.” Mark whistled under his breath. “I take it back. Going back to school might not be so bad after all.”
-The Dragon King-
Hit a target with a Pokeball? Easy.
Marcus had played some baseball as a kid, he loved the game but was never good enough to make it past the kiddy leagues. He’d spent more than a few seasons in America’s favorite pastime, and throwing a Pokeball was kinda like throwing a baseball, just it didn’t have as good of a grip, and the balance was all off.
Once he was adjusted he was nailing bullseyes left right and center. Easy top place. Easy 100 on the test.
“Hwa!” Casey shouted and he threw his mock pokeball, only for it to fly over the top of the cut out Mareep and miss it by a mile.
“No. That’s completely wrong.” Marcus sighed. “You’re lobbing the thing like a rock, you gotta pitch it. Copy me, your form is all fucked up. Hold it back, level with your head, then forward and in. Not up and over, forward and in!”
-The Dragon King-
“I don’t know why they have Baseball here, but I’m not going to question it.” Marcus said as he pushed the door open to a Baseball shop.
“The sign clearly says ‘Batball’ though?”
“Shut up Casey, I’m trying to ignore that. You asked me for help throwing and said you’d pay for the training gear, so follow my lead.” Mark said before strolling up to an overweight guy behind the counter. “One bucket of baseballs, and a metal baseball bat, for my size, please.”
The shopkeeper stared back at him with a completely vacant expression.
“He means a bucket of Batballs, and a Batball Bat.” Casey chimed in, standing on his tippy toes to look over Mark’s shoulder. “And why do we need a bat?”
“First: That name sounds dumber every time I hear it. Second: We need the bat besaaauuuse, uh, I’m going tooo, uh. I’ll be trying to smack the balls out of the air while you aim for a target behind me. Yes, that’s why we need it! If you want to be consistent you need to learn how to hit your mark even in unfair circumstances.”
-The Dragon King-
“Well done!” Miss Apple clapped her hands, somewhat astonished. “Full bonus points to Mr Cross! You only had to list 20, I’ve never heard someone recite all the Kanto Pokémon with such confidence or so quickly! Especially without any sort of reference or hesitation!”
Marcus leaned back in his chair, looking smug.
“Literally how?” Casey whispered from next to him.
“There was a really dumb and catchy rap that played on TV, back when I was a kid.”
“Now would you kindly list 15 from the Galar region?”
“...The what?”
-The Dragon King-
“These are a favorite among trainers with bird type Pokemon.” The shopkeeper said as he held up a pair of thick leather gloves that ran all the way down to the elbow, and looked more like armor than gloves. “With these babies on, you can hold your arms out, and your flying types can perch on you without worry. You won’t be able to feel anything but the largest talons through these! And typically by then, they’ll be too large to perch on you anyway.”
Marcus whistled appreciatively, but couldn’t help but wince at the price tag. “That is exactly what I need, but don’t you think the price is a bit high?”
“Nah, this is made with premium Bouffalant leather. Anything less would get ripped apart after the first evolution.”
“Ouch. Look, I’m interested, I really am! You completely sold me! I have to get this. But my paycheck doesn’t come in for another two weeks. I don’t suppose you could hold one of these in stock for me?”
“For two weeks? Yeah I could do that for you.”
“Awesome! You’re the best, dude!” Marcus finger gunned the cashier as he walked away.
Time to go to his “job” where he did a daily run around every vending machine in the city, looking for spare change. This was only, what, his fourth straight week of doing it?
-The Dragon King-
“-nd Fairy is the most mysterious of the Pokemon types. Scientists only put together enough evidence to have it labeled as an official type a few years ago, and it took the combined effort of Professors from regions all over the globe! Fairy’s are very enigmatic, and we know very little of them”
Casey and the rest of the students listened to the teacher with wide eyes, but Markus wasn’t paying attention at all.
Fairy type was some dumb, weird, fluffy BS type that Game Freak shoehorned into the newer games in an attempt to make their outdated combat system exciting again. It was forced into X and Y even though there was only, like, basically 10 or so Pokemon that had the type. And most of those weren’t even new ones! They were already existing Pokemon that had been retroactively changed. Those were also, coincidentally, the last games he ever played.
Any Pokemon he played after that was emulators or fan remakes of Platinum, the Black & White games, or HeartGold.
“A carnivorous omnivore, the Salamence line can eat fruits and vegetables just fine, but their massive protein intake requirements means that the vast majority of their diet has to be made of meat.” Mark hummed and flipped the page of a Pokepedia. “So you like meaty things, do you?
-The Dragon King-
Marcus slowly made his way through the edge of the forest, and stepped into the outskirts of the clearing he’d first landed in. It had taken days to track down on his own, but he’d managed it through stubbornness and trial and error.
He walked over to the base of a tree, kneeled down, and scowled as he raised up a burnt piece of rope.
Both of the rabbit snares he’d made had been ripped up and burnt away. Granted they had been kinda shit, considering he hadn’t made one since basic training, but still.
The traps had been ruined and the hamburger he had used as bait, which had been his lunch, was missing.
He turned the piece of rope over and a chunk of ash fell off, revealing blueish purple embers.
“Clever girl.”
-The Dragon King-
The early school tests were so easy he actually fell asleep during a couple. It was all basic type matchups and different types of pokeballs. He passed them all with perfect scores.
The later tests were a bit rougher. Trying to remember vague city trivia from NPC dialog he’d read years ago was surprisingly difficult, but still doable. And going with his gut seemed to work when trying to highlight where certain types of Pokémon could be encountered in the region.
The final stretch of tests were difficult, but not in the good way, where it made you actually use your brain. They were difficult in the bullshit way. The way that required the boring memorization of obscure facts, rather than any brainpower.
“What is the historical significance of the Great Marsh being a nature reserve? Who cares? What legal exemptions are Rangers given that regular Trainers don’t have, under Sinnoh Common Law section 14? Don’t know. What was the founding date of the first gym in Sinnoh? What version of the Ace Trainer’s license is required to act as an international emissary in emergency situations?” Marcus scoffed and crumpled up the test that was covered in red marks. “Who the crap actually cares about any of that?”
“M-Mark! That was the final! It’s 10% of your whole grade! You can’t just write ‘ I don’t care ’ in the blanks!”
“I can and I did.” Mark laughed and tossed the paper wad into the trash. “I only needed a 30 on it to pass the class and I got a 42! Easy win.” He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Besides, none of that was in the games, and you saved the world without it, so there’s no way it’s that important.”
“None of it was the what?”
“Nothing.” Marcus rolled his eyes and relaxed back into his seat. “Well now that we’re officially trainers, what are you thinking about getting as your first ‘mon?”
“I was thinking of something simple to start with, that’s easy to take care of, but that can grow with me into a competitive ace. Something like a Starly.”
Mark scoffed and kicked Casey’s chair. “That is the most boring first pick I’ve ever heard. Aim bigger.”
“A Staraptor is plenty big.” Casey pouted. “And you need to be in the top 3% of the entire Region’s trainer schools to qualify for a lab starter- which neither of us are.” He sent a sideways glance to Mark’s crumpled test in the trash can. “What about you, what ‘BIG’ starter do you want to catch?”
“Oh, I’ve got my first pick already locked in.” Mark grinned sharply. “I’m gonna catch that fucking Bagon that’s been scampering around in the woods, the one that headbutted me.”
“You want to have a Dragon as a starter?” Casey asked incredulously. “Not even the majority of Dragon type specialists started with a Dragon. They’re super hard to keep in line.”
“Maybe if you don’t know what you’re doing. You just need a few Gym badges and they’ll listen to you without question. Trust me.”
“If you say so…”
The bell rang and the teacher began handing out blue envelopes to all the students, which contained their final report card.
Some had notes telling students not to give up just because they had failed, and to try again next year. Others had a note of congratulations taped to a beginner level trainer license, along with a graduation present.
“Here you go students! Don’t feel bad if you failed, the pass rate for the class is only 30% on average. But those of you who did pass, even barely -” Miss Apple muttered under her breath as she glanced at Mark. “-are rewarded with a single state-sponsored Pokeball to go out and catch your starter with! Tomorrow we have one last lesson, and then a field trip! You can either choose to get help from a teacher, or an approved family member, because tomorrow we’re headed outside of town to help you find and catch your first Pokemon! But remember, don’t go into the tall grass alone, without a Pokemon to fight for you.”
She waved to the teenagers as they left the classroom, some much happier than others, but stopped Mark and Casey before they could leave.
“Could I get a quick word with you two for a moment? Alone?”
“With me?” Marcus ran a hand through his hair and put on his best smile. “You can talk to me anytime you want, how can I help you?”
“First I want to say that I’m very proud of you two for passing my class.” She said as she took a seat behind her desk. “But I think it would be best for you, if we had a real talk about your chances as trainers.”
“What do you mean?” Casey questioned, while Mark crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
“While we make the class hard to make sure that only the students actually capable of holding their own can go on a journey, there’s still a reason that we encourage trainers to start their journeys in their teens. It lets you finish maturing and take the first steps of adulthood alongside your Pokemon. You grow up together. That forms a near unbreakable bond that’s hard to replicate. If the two of you decide to do the full gym circuit, and push to the Elite four, well… By the time your pokemon fully mature, and are at an Ace level, you’ll have started to age, you won’t be able to physically keep up with them anymore.”
“I don’t think age is what keeps people from being able to ‘keep up’ with monsters capable of summoning tornados.”
“That’s not what I mean. If you have Ace level Pokemon who see their trainer as incapable or unworthy of leading them, and you don’t have a deep and completely stable bond with your partners…” Miss Apple winced. “There have been cases where that’s gone really bad, and has led to a lot of deaths over the years.”
“Cut to the chase.” Mark grunted. “What are you trying to say?”
The woman looked at the two of them regretfully.
“I’m saying you should give up becoming trainers. That’s my honest opinion.”
“But I passed! I studied so h-hard! I w-waited y-years! I-I-I-” Casey hiccuped, tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to spill out.
“I’m sorry honey, I really am.” Miss Apple said gently. “But someone needed to be honest with you. It would be best if you packed your things, and just went home.”
“Yeah, well someone needs to be honest with you too, bitch.” Marcus shoved his way between the bombshell of a MILF and the crying Casey.
“I thought you were really hot, like really hot. And before those absolutely dumbass words came out of your mouth, I had been planning on asking for your number after today. Hell, I was fucking ready to put off my childhood dream adventure by a couple weeks, to have a few lunch dates with you and see if we could hit it off. But now you opened your mouth just then, said those words, and I realized just how much of a dumbass you are.”
He leaned forward, tapping a finger on the desk.
“Here’s my honest opinion . Those words were stupid. Your class is stupid. Your opinion is stupid. You should feel stupid. And you’re going to be stupid, when I take down Cynthia and get crowned champion of the entire fucking region.”
Mark slammed his hands on the desk and pushed himself to his full height.
“Fuck this school, fuck you, and fuck that bonus class day tomorrow! I bet you were gonna try to get me to catch a Bidoof or something stupid anyway!” He scowled and barged out of the room. “Come on Casey, don’t listen to the stupid lady. We’re taking the Pokeballs that we earned , and leaving.”
-The Dragon King-
The next day came far too slowly, and it found Marcus angrily marching down the streets in the early morning light, towards the ever ominous Eterna Forest.
That fucking bitch.
What was the point of being sent to the Pokemon world, if he wasn’t going to be a Pokemon trainer!?
She was wrong, and Mark knew she was wrong. He actually knew a lot of things that she didn’t! Like the fact that Ash Ketchum was kind of important.
That’s right.
Ash, fucking, Ketchum. The golden, forever 10, posterboy of the entire franchise. He existed in this world. Marcus had looked him up on the school PC. Ash was something of a D tier celebrity online. He hopped from region to region and participated in practically every available tournament, but while he always gave a really good effort, he could never quite come out on top.
But strangely giant chunks of his online profile were just… missing. It was like he would occasionally just fall off the earth for months at a time, and even certain events that are usually extremely well recorded to prevent fraud, such as gym battles, were just completely missing any records that they ever happened.
It was almost like there were reasons for very important people to put a lot of effort into wiping some events that Ash was tied to from public record. Like say, Legendary sightings, or international conspiracies.
You know who else existed?
Red. THE Red. The missing Kanto champion who swept across the region like a nature, obliterated the Elite Four within a year, and then defeated the only real challenge he ever faced, his rival, to take the throne of champion. Then he crossed over into Johto and demolished the entire region in less than two months, before disappearing into the wind, and leaving both nations’ power structures completely in ruins.
His win record was 100%, he was the only trainer to ever become champion without losing a single battle, let alone do it twice . And no one knew where he was.
No one except Marcus. Red was up on the top of mount Silver, unceasingly training his monstrous team against the most dangerous area in the region, where fully grown Tyranatars were a common sight.
Red was sitting there. Waiting for a challenger.
And Marcus knew that because he’d played the games. He played the games, he watched the anime, he knew how this world worked.
Granted, this was real life now. He was fully willing to accept that things were a lot more dangerous and gritty here than what he’d seen through his screen. But people like Ash and Red existing was proof, he knew how this world worked at its core.
“I’ll show her what a real Pokemon trainer is.” Mark grumbled under his breath as he headed towards the woods, passing a pond with an old fisherman sitting on its edge. “Gonna catch the Bagon, and then take on the Gyms.”
“You’d best not be headin out into the Eterna Forest, for a few days, lad.” The fisherman called out. “Twas a full blue moon last night. The spirits ‘avn’t settled on down yet.”
“Spirits?” Marcus turned to look at the fisherman. “You mean Ghost Pokemon?”
“I said full moon, not new moon, didn’t I? There are things much worse out ‘n about right now.” The old man shook his head. “You go in now, and you’ll get pulled into the Deep Woods, lad. Where the shadows stretch even in the height of day, and the canopy blocks out the sun. Foul things lurk there.”
“I’m not stupid, and I’m in plenty good shape, I’ll run from anything dangerous. Besides, Ghost types are all nocturnal, and I know exactly where I’m going. I can handle a few Pokemon. ”
“They ain’t Pokémon!” The man hissed. “They say they are, an brush it all off, but I’ve seen it with me own eyes! They’re not natural, I tell you!”
“Yes, and other Pokémon, such as fire breathing Lizards, and genuine Ghosts are natural.” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going into the forest for a bit. Only like ten minutes, and I’ll be out. Do you want to elaborate on what you’re talking about, maybe give some advice? Or are you going to continue to be vague, and not say what it is you think is in the woods?”
“Advice ye say. Ha!” The fisherman laughed darkly. “Aye, I can give ye advice.”
“If yeh get lured in- and they do try to lure folks in, then be as careful as possible, and don’t trust anything! Not even your own eyes!
“If they ask to have your name, don't give it! Make something up! But never your real name! Giving your full name to ‘em is a recipe for disaster!
“Don't eat the food. Don’t accept any gifts. Never, NEVER, say ‘thank you’! Not for anything, it implies that you’re in their debt.
“And if you see a person in there…” The old man shivered. “Count the fingers, don’t look them in the eye, and do NOT make any deals!”
Marcus blinked at him blankly, then turned and walked away from the crazy old guy who was probably on drugs and/or got licked by a Gastly as a kid.
This was Pokémon, it was an action series. There were dragons, and ghosts, giant meteors careening towards the planet, and evil organizations that wanted to blow up the world. There was a lot of bad stuff but it was all up in your face, fit for TV. This wasn’t some old German fairy tale about Fey.
That just wasn’t how Pokemon logic worked.
Pokémon had legendaries like Kyogre and Groudon leveling mountains in epic fights! It didn’t have Fey making cryptic deals, like loopy back alley drug dealers who were high as a kite on their own supply.
He knew how this world worked.
…
Right?
-The Dragon King-
“All right, class, welcome to our last lesson!” Miss Apple clapped her hands. “This is very important, so listen closely. Before we head out to catch your starters, we’re going to talk about Type Energy!”
She motioned to the words written on the board.
“Type Energy is the energy that Pokemon naturally generate and use to perform moves. It’s the fire for a flamethrower, it creates the cold gust of an icy wind, it’s what makes quick attack’s speed possible! But despite this, no one is 100% certain how it works, not even the Professors can agree! That’s why we don’t test you on it. Now can anyone tell me why a balanced type team is recommended by the League?”
A kid in the back raised their hand and she pointed at him.
“Because it rounds out your team against potential weaknesses, and lets you better plan for different challenges.”
“Very good! That’s true, but it’s also so that the different Type Energies can cancel each other out, and help negate the effects on you. The main drawback with this is that if you specialize with one type, like most gyms do, you never have to worry about conflicting personalities or internal fights within your team.”
The class muttered in confusion at this.
“That’s right, TE can have effects on people. Over long periods of exposure to significant amounts, Type Energy can start changing the way you think and act. It’s why parents usually have children interact with weak Pokemon while growing up, so they can start developing a resistance to it.”
“Are we gonna be in danger from our own Pokemon?” One of the kids cut in.
“Pokemon are always dangerous, and you need to be careful, but TE isn’t all that bad. Just like how Pokemon adapt to work with their trainer, TE can help you better adapt to your Pokemon, and forge an even closer bond. As long as you journey alongside your pokemon, your resistance to TE will naturally increase over time, even as their output of it increases as well.”
Miss Apple stepped up to the board and took the time to write out all the types in different columns.
“Now let’s go over the different kinds of TE, so you can better understand it, and know how to deal with it.”
“Normal type energy is the most adaptable, the most diluted, and the ‘cleanest’ variation of Type Energy. It has no measurable effects on Humans except in e really high doses, where it kind of just makes you not want to try new things, and is perfect for building up a resistance to TE.”
“Next is the biggest group, which are the elemental types. Fire, Water, Grass, Ice, Electric, Ground, Rock, and Steel. These are some of the most basic types and even they can still have an impact on people. It’s not the same for everyone but if you watch long enough you’ll find patterns, such as Fire type users often being quick to get pumped up, or Grass type users becoming especially fond of flowers and gardening.”
“The next group of types after the elemental ones is a much smaller one, only composed of Bug, Fighting, and Flying. They have more complicated and abstract effects on a person’s mind, but are by and by still not too harmful if managed properly. It’s the next groups where things start to get dangerous.”
Miss Apple stepped over to the other side of the chalkboard, where only six types were listed.
“The dangerous category can be split very neatly into two sections. The first is composed of Dark, Poison, and Psychic Type Energy. High amounts of these can wreak havoc on an individual exposed to them for long periods of time, even if it’s not even all that much. They can completely change personalities, as well as have physical effects on your body.
“Poison TE will wear down your immune system, and can make you incredibly sick. Dark type specialists often suffer from depression from the amount of Dark TE they’re exposed to, and have the highest rate of suicide among all trainers. Psychic TE exposure can cause memory loss, recollections of things that never happened, schizophrenia, and in extreme cases, even cause people to develop weak psychic abilities of their own if they are exposed to enough of the TE early in life.”
The teacher tapped the board and drew a circle around the three types.
“The Pokemon League heavily recommends not catching a Pokemon that is a ‘pure’ Psychic, Dark, or Poison type, until you have at least obtained two gym badges. These Pokemon require a skilled and experienced trainer to manage properly, and have some of the highest rates of turning on their trainers. But our last category is by far the most dangerous, and makes even these look harmless.”
Miss Apple took a moment to erase the entire board, and wrote the three final types in big bold letters.
“The Pokemon League recommends that you don’t take on a Pokemon with a Secondary typing of these until after your second Gym badge, that you not take on a Pokemon with a Primary typing of these until after your third Gym badge, and that you don’t specialize with them in general.”
GHOST. She underlined the big word and drew an angry Gastly next to it.
“Ghost types stretch the barrier of what a Pokemon is. They are souls that have clawed their way back from the other side after death, and have lost all of their past but their most traumatic memories. They have not only seen death, but have experienced it first hand, and have a uniquely cheap view of any sort of life- why would they care about the death of others, considering they are already dead themselves? Forming a true bond with them is exceptionally hard, considering what it takes to have something in common with a Ghost type, and is usually only achieved by Trainers who have lost people dear to them, or have a truly macabre personality.
“They range from playful spirits that enjoy mostly harmless pranks, to vengeful poltergeists that thrive off of misery and suffering. Some of the most exotic theories from various Professors even suggest that some Ghost Pokemon might form, not just from dead Pokemon, but from souls of dead Humans as well, and that constant exposure to Ghost TE increases the likelihood that a person will turn into one when they die.”
“But while the Ghost type category is mainly dangerous because of the Pokemon it contains, these next two are just as, if not more dangerous because of what their TE can do to you.”
Miss Apple walked to the center of the room and coughed into her fist, making sure she had everyone’s attention.
“Listen VERY CAREFULLY, class. If you have been sheltered for most of your life, and have grown up without contact with very many Pokemon, DO NOT catch either of these last two types until you have built up a resistance to TE from interacting with other Pokemon.”
-The Dragon King-
Marcus grumbled under his breath as he fought his way through the underbrush of the forest. Where did that fucking clearing go? It had been kinda deep into the woods, sure, but it was still pretty close to the edge! It hadn’t even taken him half this long to walk to it last time!
“Dragon Type Energy is ancient. It’s the purest form of TE, nothing but raw power , and is theorized to be the original type of TE that all others branched off from. There’s a reason that most legendaries, most notably the trinity, all three of Arceus’ direct children, are all primarily Dragon types.”
“Where the Hell did it go? I could have sworn it was right here ! Clearings don’t just move on their own!”
A hoot and a faint ringing caught his ear and he turned his head to find the path he was looking for sitting right to his side.
“Oh, it didn’t move, I’m just fucking blind.” Mark slapped himself on the head and began walking down the path. “Geeze, I can’t wait until I’m an actual trainer and have a source of income. I would kill for a flashlight, this place is way too dark for the middle of the day.
Marcus’ brow furrowed as he said that, and he slowed to a stop.
“Dark in the middle of the day?” He said again aloud to himself. It hadn’t been dark last time, and that sounded awfully familiar to what the old man had said.
He forced himself to blink a few times, and suddenly… Wait, what? No, this path didn’t look familiar at all! What had he been thinking?
He frowned, shook his head, and walked back the direction he came from, while sending a hesitant glance back over his shoulder as he left.
“Dragon TE is ANGRY, it’s AGGRESSIVE, it wants to COMMAND, and it wants RESPECT. Dragons are some of the most territorial and hard to control of all Pokemon. They will not follow a trainer they view as weak, they will not follow a trainer they do not respect, and the only thing a Dragon respects is power.”
“Oh, here it is!” He scowled as he stumbled into the clearing from the complete opposite direction of the city. “Bagon, oh Bagon! Come on out, I want a rematch with you, ya little fucker! I need payback for the skull fracture you gave me with that bobble-head looking noggin of yours!”
“Dragon TE is dangerous because of how INTENSE it is, it can completely overwhelm people, and rewire them from the inside out. According to the ancient Draconid Tribe of Hoenn, Dragon energy is like a Dragon itself, you have to fight it for dominance and force it to obey you, but if you fail to do so, then you will wind up obeying it.”
It only took a few seconds for the little blue Dragon to come marching out of the bushes to defend its territory. From this direction, Mark could see a small nest hidden in the brush.
Bagon growled, baring its fangs. Unfortunately the threat was less effective thanks to the bread crumbs on its face, and the fact that there were pickle slices, just randomly sitting on the ground from where it had come from.
“Some of the greatest Dragon type masters alive have spent decades building up resistances, and working to control Dragon TE, such as Gym leaders Lance, Clair, and Drayden. But if you’ve ever watched them at all, it’s easy to see the TE’s influence on their personalities. Even the Hoenn league’s famous Drake of the Elite Four, well… the fact he legally changed his name to Drake should say it all. ”
“Wow, okay. That was my Hamburger! You know, I only get two small meals a day from the Pokemon center, but I still gave up one of those to use as bait, and you have the audacity to not even eat the pickles?”
“BA!” The Bagon laughed and made a show of stomping the pickle into the dirt, before shooting a small gout of blue-purple fire.
“Shit!” Mark shouted and dove to the side. “Oh I’m going to make you regret that!’ He said as he picked himself up and pulled the metal baseball bat off his back.
“Dragon TE will overrun a new trainer and cause them to blaze like a wildfire, they will shine brightly, but burn out quickly. Sometimes the stress is too much and they burn out mentally, or they break emotionally, or, in the worst case scenarios, their body can’t keep up and they burn out physically.”
“You little shit.” Marcus grinned and his bat made a loud clap as he slapped it into the palm of his leather glove. “I’m gonna fucking enjoy this.”
-The Dragon King-
“Excuse me, Miss Apple?” A kid in the back of the classroom raised his hand. “Why is the Fairy Type on the list of the most dangerous ones?”
“Ah, that’s a bit of a tricky question. Mainly because we don’t have all of that answer yet.” the teacher shrugged.
“Fairies are very similar to Ghosts in a lot of ways. They’re rare, isolationist, and don’t really seem to fit in our world. Their diets are a perfect example of this, and shows how incredibly strange Fairy types can be. Fairies have shown to not take much sustenance from the content of the food they eat, instead how much care and love went into making the food, is what determines its nutritional benefit to them.”
“Fairy TE can cause a variety of effects on a person, from changing their hair color to pink, to changing their personality, to causing them to have massive emotional mood swings. And with the recent paper that Professor Oak published, suggesting Fairies can use the TE they give off to manipulate emotions…” Miss Apple trailed off with a frown.
-The Dragon King-
“Mark? Hello? Anyone?” Casey called out as he stumbled through the woods.
Mark’s determination the other day had inspired him. He wanted to catch his starter on his own too! So he had run to the edge of town to go tag along with Mark, but when he got close, Mark walked into the woods and kind of just vanished.
“MARCUS! Where did you go? Is anyone there!?”
A hoot of an owl, and the soft ringing of a bell caused him to turn left, where there was suddenly a path where he had almost sworn there hadn’t been one before.
“Hello?” He leaned forward, and almost screamed when he noticed a pair of small, pink, glowing eyes staring at him from the darkness. “Wh-Who’s there!?”
A detached voice giggled behind his ear, causing him to jump and turn around, to find there was nothing there. When he looked back at the path, the eyes had gotten closer, and out of the shadow of the trees floated a small white Pokemon holding onto a red flower like an umbrella.
“Oh thank Arceus, you’re just a Floette.” Casey sighed in relief and crouched down. “What are you doing little fella? I didn’t know you guys were in this region.”
The little flower Pokemon let out a soft airy laugh that sounded like wind chimes, and was carried off by a passing breeze, deeper into the darkest depths of the forest.
Casey followed.
“It’s best to avoid Fairy types until you’re more experienced. Especially considering how much about them we still just don’t know.”
-Chapter End-