Tommy rocked back and forth on a rocking chair as he looked on to Prof. Pine's private Pokémon ranch from his balcony in the lab's lodges.
When Tommy's family relocated to the super-region, they settled fairly far away from Rootdry Town, and although at the time that was a rather trivial matter, the subsequent relocation of Prof. Pine to Rootdry Town would go and turn the small community into somewhat of a Mecca for those wishing to continue their Pokémon journeys.
And so, many trainers went straight to Rootdry Town after migrating to the super-region, expecting to find a leader, a light beacon in Prof. Pine, and subsequently left on their respective journeys after obtaining their starter Pokémon.
On the other hand, here he was. Tom Yerington, 12 years old, veteran Pokémon trainer from Unova and officially incapacitated.
Tommy looked down and inspected his arm's cast. It had some sort of blue wrapping over the white plaster, and a shoulder strap that numbed the back of his neck. Tommy sighed; it was still so hard to come to terms with the fact that he had broken his left arm…
It still seemed like yesterday. He'd reached Rootdry Town thanks to the miracle of public transportation, but after he'd received his starter, the professor insisted that there was some Team Plasma business that needed to be discussed. Two hours, lunch, an escaped Archen and a tumble down a flight of stairs later, Tommy's arm was broken.
Ever since then, Tommy's life had revolved around the concept of Team Plasma, and what they may or may not do with the legendary Pokémon who may or may not be (but most likely are) in their possession. The very thought of Team Plasma seemed to sadden Tommy.
However, a sudden buzzing in the distance suddenly caught Tommy's attention; the sound seemed to be gaining strength, and the boy could now make out a faint "Emooooool… GA!" Tommy's Pokémon startled him as it glided past his face and right through the open sliding door, into the room. Less than a second later, the doorbell became the second noise to distract Tommy from his thoughts.
"Who is it?" Tommy asked before opening the door as if expecting a name.
"Breakfast, Master Yerington." A tall butler with an immaculately thick mustache responded from the other side of the door.
Tommy opened the door and became assaulted by the strong odor of thick-sliced bacon, broccoli quiche, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. On the butler's second hand, was a smaller plate with Pokémon food labeled as "Great for your small Field-group critters!"
"Thank you." Tommy said as he retrieved his food and sent the butler off. The child sat on the small table that overlooked the professor's ranch once more, and found it amusing that less than a week before, this breakfast seemed glorious while now it tasted of incarceration…
"I have to get out of here. Tonight."