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- Seen Dec 31, 2021
Hello, people who may or may not read this.
Generally, this'll be pretty mild, all things considered. There'll be no gore and pretty minor violence, unless something unforeseeable happens and I take a turn for the grim. There will be language. I'm a potty-mouth myself, so I'm actively trying to cut it down, but expect people to sound age accordingly.
The entire thing's planned out, even if only the first three chapters are written, so I'm hoping to stick with it.
My goal is to write a Pokemon Academy story that isn't an aggressive vortex of cliche. Also, fun. It needs to be fun.
Chapter 1
*
The upside to having your secret training facility on an island that no one knows exists is that it's really easy to keep it a secret. Theodore Reading scrutinized the incoming freshmen class from his office window, the entire island available to see due to the fact that his office's walls were all windows. The general upside to having your own secret training facility was that you could make it as prestigious and exclusive as you wanted.
The trouble was that, somewhere on the docked ship was a wild card. Someone had managed to destroy almost all records of who belonged and didn't belong to the incoming students, and Theodore would be damned if he wasn't impressed. He'd developed and guarded the records system himself, and yet someone had managed to get in, alter his records, and now the count of incoming new students was 133 instead of 132. And he had no idea who. It was just so commendable.
Sunlight danced from the sky, shimmering on water, and just generally making things beautiful. The barrier that encapsulated the island somehow made it invisible and impossible to locate without altering the way the weather worked. Again, a system in place by Theodore. He briefly considered what it would be like if that would be the next portion of his system to be infiltrated. His desire for peace ended that fantasy quickly.
A clock struck an hour somewhere and suddenly there was no more time for reflection. Theodore Reading turned from the window and strode to the center of the office, cane in hand. His limp was practically nonexistent, but it never hurt to be prepared. And it looked dignified. Public image was more important than what actually was.
The carpet in the room was made of an intricate pattern of shapes that seemed geometrically infeasible, and yet, was. The center was, just like the room, a massive circle. It was into this circle that Theodore stepped, his cane tapping the floor three times. In response, he felt like he was falling, briefly. And then he wasn't.
Theodore Reading stood behind a podium, in front of his students. Each student was uniquely qualified to be there in some way or another. Hell, even the extra one, if the infiltration wasn't a fluke. The institution, unnamed as it were, was designed with future world leaders in mind, whether it be in Pokemon research, or military action. If you wanted to be a part of the student body, you needed to be the best of the best.
"Hello students," his voice echoed forth, seemingly without aid. There was, of course, an Alakazam back stage that simply made each student hear the voice as if it was being spoken directly to them. Psychic Manipulation of the Brain was an advanced level course, by invite only. Theodore taught the class himself.
There was a reactionary shuffling by some, utter, uncomfortable silence by others. The beginning of a smile formed on his lips.
"Yes, students. You may be wondering why you're students, when so many of you are accomplished in your own fields. We have, in our presence, researchers, breeders, trainers, and much more. The answer is, of course, because I said so. You see, I am fabulously wealthy. I do not intend to die that way. You will be my legacy."
"Some of you will be warriors. Some politicians. Some of you will lose and discover yourself. Hopefully for the better. I welcome you to my school. For the next three weeks, your classes will be assigned. After that, you will have free reign of our academy. Every weekend we will have War Games. Do listen to your seniors. You have much to learn."
With that, Theodore Reading tapped the ground three times with his cane and disappeared completely. A brief murmur rose over the crowd before lightning crashed from the sky, hitting exactly where the old man had been standing. The flash ended, and Theodore was there once again, a sparkle in his eye, an unapologetic grin on his face.
"Before I forget, you may call me Principal Reading. Now, if you excuse me, I must be impressive elsewhere." Theodore turned and walked off, his body fading into nothingness with each step. And then, he wasn't there. The crowd didn't react this time. What was there to say?
-
Chelsea Manson was not amused. This was just ridiculous. Some old man shows up, gives a speech, leaves, and they're expected to what? No. That was bull. She had received an invitation to what she had been promised would be an exclusive, elite training camp. Now it just looked like a sophisticated zoo.
She stretched in her seat, adjusting her red cap. Her cropped blonde hair always had a tendency to get in her eyes, unless she took counter measures. The cap was one such measure. Chelsea glanced at the backpack in her lap. It contained almost all of her possessions in the entire world. She was not thrilled to be carrying it around so openly like this.
The crowd around her rose and sort of shuffled forwards, towards the glaringly white building behind the clearly-thrown-together stage in front of them. Chelsea followed along, her eyes glancing around the crowd. This sucked. This sucked balls. And if what the crew on the boat said, and the old guy's speech certainly made it seem true, she was going to be stuck her much longer than she had planned on.
So lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice the small boy bump into her. Her hand automatically snatched the back of his shirt, latching firm, and it took her brain a split second for her to realize what she had done, and why. Once it caught up, her already sour mood darkened immediately.
"Give it." The boy, couldn't have been much older than 12, looked up.
"Give what?" His face was convincingly innocent. Almost.
"Kid, I've been a trainer for 9 years. I've kick so much ass that people think I've been doing it for twice that long. I'm not stupid. My Pokedex, please."
A dark look crossed the boy's face momentarily, but he consented and handed her a black handheld. She pocketed the electronic device and let go of his shirt. The boy glared at her, adjusting how the neck of his shirt fit him.
"Who do you think you are, anyways, stealing like that?" The boy looked her dead in the eye. His eyes were the kind of gold normally associated with an angry predator's. They, combined with the look of fury on the boy's face, would have been intimidating if the boy wasn't also a good head shorter than her.
"None of your business." He spat the words, turning and dashing further into the crowd. Chelsea reviewed the scene in her head. She'd kick that kid's ass the next time she saw him.
Chelsea entered the front doors of the building and was immediately assaulted with the scent of a bonfire. It practically choked her. A smoky, wood smell. It was nice, but much. Just much. That was the problem with this place. The kid thief, the crazy old guy, the scented air. It was all much. Too much.
Well, that sold it. This place was going to continue to suck. Tremendously.
-
Warren Hammer took in a ragged gasp of air. He needed a glass of water to swallow his horse pills, and unfortunately, he had none. He shouldered his duffle bag and kept on trudging along with the group. His chest ached like no other, but he ignored it. It wasn't too hard, once you got used to the fact that the pain wasn't going to end any time soon.
Warren took a shorter test breath, trying to see if it came any easier. It didn't. He would have sighed, but he couldn't really afford to lose that much air. The pristine, white building was close, but he had no idea how much longer before he could take his pills. Hopefully not too much. The strain in his chest was beginning to get unbearable.
The doors to the building were wide open, propped to welcome in the crowded of newcomers. Apparently the senior students were already off talking or eating or whatever it was they did. Warren had a feeling that it probably had to do with the weekly War Game that Principal Reading had mentioned.
Warren began assessing the student body around him. Most weren't fighters. Which was fine. These War Games were probably just glorified paint ball. But still. He began counting the number of visible Pokeballs, trying to gather an average. He wouldn't get taken by surprise. Getting shot in the chest was a good teacher. Warren inhaled and sure enough, it still hurt. He really needed his pills soon.
A blast of air hit Warren as he stepped into the building. The air carried the scent of mint and- and it didn't hurt to breathe. A deep gulp of air, the kind someone drowning couldn't even remember. The kind Warren hadn't been able to remember. The past three years lay in ashes in the back of his mind. Warren smiled.
The checkerboard linoleum floor looked completely new. It shone and squeaked and did everything a spotless floor was supposed to do. Ahead of the group was a staircase that ended on a platform, before splitting off in two directions. Apparently, living arrangements weren't co-ed.
A man with flaming red hair stood to the left side of the split, ushering the guys of the group to follow alongside his half of the fork. The man spoke in a light, airy accent that Warren couldn't place. The man explained that there were seven floors to the building. The first floor held classrooms and the dining area, the second through fifth floors held student living quarters, with each successively higher floor holding students of a higher year. The next floor was teacher and staff living. The final floor belonged solely to the principal.
The red haired man's language was quick and efficient. He explained things with no hesitation and the relaxed ease of someone who just knew he was better than you. Warren blew a puff of air at him and grinned. The air even tasted like mint. This place was too good to be true.
Warren found his room halfway down the hall. His room was startlingly bare. The walls were red brick, there were two twin beds on opposite ends of the room, a desk situated at the foot of each bed, a bathroom that apparently adjoined with the neighboring room, and a closet. All in all, it was still significantly better than what he was used to.
Warren threw his duffel bag on to a bed and fished around in his pocket for his pill bottle. He dropped two large, powder blue pills into his hand, closed the bottle and threw it on the bed. He tossed one pill in his mouth, cupped some water from the sink in his free hand, and swallowed. He mimicked the motion for the next pill. He had no idea if it would be necessary in his new, awesome, minty environment, but it was always better to be safe than sorry, at least until if his medication was redundant.
"Oh, a junkie." Warren turned to door, guessing the speaker was his new roommate. He was. And one look seemed to be all that was needed to confirm something Warren had feared. He was going to hate him.
-
Beth Davis assigned a mental point to Totally Awesome. The air even smelled like books. Her roommate was being a bit of a gloomy gus, but this place was fantastic. The island was completely invisible from the outside, which meant some powerful Psychic Pokemon monitored the island. Or possibly an around the clock team. Maybe even, there was a machine. Though, she had no idea what kind of machine would be able to do that, or what it would look like. She had to find out.
Beth finished situating her books and camera on her desk and looked at her blonde roommate. Blondes were so cool. It was a recessive trait, which meant that the girl's parents were carriers, at the very minimum, so there was this chain of blonde alleles disappearing into the past on both sides of her roommates' family. That was pretty cool.
Of course, Beth's red hair, green eyes, and color blindness made her infinitely more special, but she would never say that to- Chelsea, she believed the girl's name was. Of course, Beth was actually absolutely certain that Chelsea was her roommate's name, she almost never forgot a fact, but it would be creepy to admit that the knowledge was such an automatic thing, even in her inner dialogue.
"So, roomie, what are you in for?"
"Excuse me?" Chelsea spoke harshly, impatiently.
"Well, you heard what Principal Reading said. Researchers, breeders, trainers, and much more. Which are you? I'm a researcher, through and through. Though, I also take pictures, so I might be a 'much more'. I'm not completely certain. So not really through and through. Half and half? No, that sounds stupid. Hmm. Oh. Um, you?" Long pause. Minus a point from categories Tact and Brevity.
"Oh. Trainer." Well that was obvious. Still, Beth had thought to ask. It was more polite than making the obvious assumption, even based on the obvious evidence of the girl's attitude and numerous Pokeballs.
"I could never have been a trainer-"
"It beneath you?" Touchy. Either Chelsea was always on edge, unlikely, or something had upset her. Time to run a little maintenance.
"Not at all. Too demanding. I mean, I'd like to think that I'm tough, but being a trainer takes a special-" Beth paused here. Her next choice in words would be important and deliberate. "Constitution. You know, like a mindset and sort of physical strength and just, it's all way too tough for a city girl like me. So, research."
Chelsea's eyes widened slowly. It wasn't that she was surprised. It was just that she had released her narrowed glare.
"Damn right, training's tough. Most people get all hoity toity and act like anyone can do it."
"Most people are idiots who speak before thinking."
"Amen to that. Sorry about being all snotty, earlier," Chelsea was actually smiling now. Beth mentally gave herself a point back into Tact.
"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day? Until dinner, that is."
"I figured I'd check out the grounds, see the battling arena in the back, stuff like that."
"Would you mind if I joined you?" Beth prepared herself for an incoming rejection. In her 18 years of life, she got turned away, rejected, and shot down more times than she could count. That's not actually true. 408 times in the past 8 years, since she started counting. That was almost once a week.
"Not at all. Just keep up and don't get too loud."
"Me, loud? What makes you think that I'm loud?"
"Gut feeling."
-
Rexplode Geyser was loving this. This private island was sweet as…as ambrosia, or something else that's super sweet. It kinda stung that he hadn't formally been chosen to attend, but he was here and he wasn't planning on going anywhere. He had even given himself a sweet new name for the occasion. Rexplode Geyser. You don't mess with a guy with a name like that.
Rex had dumped his stuff in his room as soon as he could. He knew he'd have a roommate, but he didn't stick around to meet him. There was more important things to do. For instance, anything but sitting still. What was the point of being on an invisible, private island if you weren't going to do anything awesome?
Of course, by definition, everything about an invisible, private island was inherently awesome. But Rex liked to live life in the moment, which really just meant he had poor impulse control. So he was going to go exploring, self-awareness be damned.
The sun was high in the sky, just past its apex. So a little after noon, then. Cool. Dinner was in roughly five hours, which meant Rex could manage to only be bored for a couple hours before dinner. Good. Better than life outside the island where he'd be bored for all five. Rex winced. His parents were going to be pissed he had run away again. But his brother would be super impressed, hopefully.
Jacob was kinda a legend at the Rustboro Trainers School and Rex always had to live in shadow. The fact that battling wasn't his primary goal in life meant that the shadow only stretched further back. Luckily, Rex had found his escape route. It seemed a little counter-intuitive, but he thought it was brilliant. Sneaking into Jacob's school, under a new identity. He would have to avoid his brother until he could stand as an equal to him, on his own merits, but that wouldn't be too hard. Rex had plenty of merits.
Rexplode counted them off in his head as he climbed one of the trees lining the courtyard, behind the school. It was still kinda boggling that there were so many trees, but he had grown up in the middle of a city. He was sure he'd adapt. He was a smart kid.
Smart enough to sneak onto an invisible island. He was focused, too, when he had a goal. Curious. Eh, curiosity was a little weird. He wasn't sure if he had too much for it to qualify as a merit or not, so he threw it into the Not A Merit category for the moment. So far that, and the fact that he had never kissed a boy were the only two things in it. One of those was fixable, though. Rex just had to keep looking. Hmm. Maybe curiosity would fit into the Merit category, then?
Rex was so absorbed with his internal dialogue, he failed to grasp the branch above him. The word spun briefly, and then things went black.
-
Dominic looked at the stuff on his bed. Not a lot. He had managed to snatch a few things here and there from the other students, but overall, he had not a lot. Except for It, and he would never let anyone else see It. Too dangerous. Dominic understood danger instinctually and deeply, the way only a lifetime of being someone's prey could instill. So It would remain attached to a necklace, a small circular lump underneath his shirt.
He looked across the room at his roommate. The man must be in his mid-to-late twenties. Tall. Hair buzzed short. Muscles. How he had ever confused the man for a substance abuser, even for a second, was beyond him. The man, Warren, was sorting through things from his duffle bag, occasionally casting Dominic a glance or two. He didn't trust Dominic. Well good. He shoudn't.
Dominic looked at the Pokedexes he'd managed to nab. He'd give them back to their owners just as soon as- done. He had successfully copied the information from their Pokedexes to his. He checked his personal one and let out a low whistle. That old guy hadn't been lying when he said these trainers were the best of the best. Dominic's Pokedex now listed over 350 different species of Pokemon.
Dominic stuffed the electronics back into his pocket. He would drop them off with different teachers, or give them to students to drop off to different teachers. Everyone got their database back, and it couldn't be traced to him. Perfect.
"Ok, kid, I've been trying to ignore it, but-" Warren began, sounding weary. Dominic felt heat flush in his chest, his ears popped and his vision went wide.
"Back off." His back was to the man, but he could still feel Warren react. He could feel it, in his skin. The slight shift, the way it affected the air. He knew the man had looked puzzled and sat on his own bed. He Knew. The unnatural feeling, almost anger, the Knowing, was reassuring.
"What's your deal, kid? I mean, confusing me for an addict, I get. Kinda. But I feel like you should explain-"
"So you can mock? Pretend to understand? No. I don't think so. And you better not touch my stuff. If I see you near it, I will kill you."
"I- look, I don't know what your life was like. I get that it was hard. Mine was no walk in the park either, but I'm aware that it was probably easier than yours. I'm just trying to reach a middle ground, ok?"
"You don't touch my stuff and I won't touch yours."
"Ok, agreed. Absolutely. I'll sign it in blood, if you want me to."
"That won't be necessary." Dominic could feel the man's sincerity in the air, even with the attempt at humor. He could feel it needle-press into the base of his skull. How dare this man pity him? How dare he? Maybe he doesn't. Dominic gulped down a gasp and turned to look at the man across from him.
"I'm going to go out. I'll try to have some sort of schedule down so you'll know when to expect me in the room. I'll stay out of your hair, you stay out of mine."
Without further prompting, Dominic left the room and shortly, left the building. The outside air was purer. Better. He smiled and touched It. Then he yanked his hand away from his chest and continued his walk. He looked through his Pokedex, staring intently at certain Pokemon listings here and there. Tropius was holding his attention when he heard a crash. He looked up and noticed, for the first time, that he had circled the building and was wandering a courtyard behind the school.
Dominic's eyes were pulled to the source of the crash, instantly and automatically. There was a boy, older than him, sprawled out on the ground. The boy had managed to break his fall on absolutely nothing. His left arm was twisted, and blood was soaking his shirt. Dominic knew exactly what to do. He turned and walked away.
This action led his gaze to the Woman from earlier, walking with another girl. Dominic swore and turned back to the fallen boy. He glanced back. No other options were leaping to mind. The blonde she-devil wasn't going to be nice to him, but maybe he could win over her friend. He still had a minute before their path would lead them to notice him. He could swing it. Hopefully.
Dominic walked up to the boy, knelt on the ground, and cradled his upper body in his lap. The picture of a concerned friend. Dominic darted his head around a few times, as if looking for help.
"Anybody?!" he called out, his voice pitched perfect for sympathy and attention. He had mastered the tone years ago.
"Oh no!" It was a female voice and not one that belonged to the Woman. Score.
"I- my friend. He was in a tree and- and…" Dominic drifted off, casting his eyes to the ground.
The female, the one that wasn't the Woman, walked into view and bent down, studying Dominic's face. Her's grew puzzled, and she stood back up, walking to the Woman. She whispered.
"It's weird. I can't tell if he's telling the truth or not. I…I don't know. Normally I can read people kinda easily. But this kid…" her whisper faded. Dominic Knew she had finished talking and not just lowered her voice further. He could feel it in the air.
"Hey kid, what's your name?" It was the Woman. Crap.
"I- Ivan," he sniveled out, his mind cringing and racing. Did they buy it?
"Ivan. Could you look up at us. We need to talk to you." Crapcrapcrap.
Dominic clenched his fist, closing his eyes tightly. Sometimes you had to know when to fold them. And sometimes, you kept on trying to play despite your better judgment. He could have bolted, but this was one of the latter cases. Dominic twisted, turning to face the woman, without dropping the boy in his lap. He heard the Woman gasp. Whelp, the game was over and he had definitely lost.
"It's you! You little shi-" the Woman stopped herself. "Beth, get a teacher. I bet this kid was the one who pushed him."
"I'm a pick pocket, not a…an assaulter!" Dominic fumbled with his words. He'd never lost this quickly before. He wasn't quite sure how to move on from the point.
"Oh yeah. I bet you just found this kid here and weren't thinking about stealing his Pokedex at all." The red-headed girl gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth in a way that most people don't actually do.
"No! I was just walking and-"
"And what?" This time it was the red-head who spoke. That hurt. She had seemed nice-ish.
"You can't expect me to answer a question if you keep interrupting me!" Dominic's mind was reeling.
"Oh yeah?! Well-" The Woman began, before her friend cut her off.
"No. He's right about that. I'm not going to say he isn't a little…what you were going to say. But he can't answer our questions if we don't give him the chance."
"What if he lies?" the Woman's tone was almost whiny. If the situation wasn't so awful, Dominic would have laughed.
"Are you kidding me? Between the two of us, we'll catch him, no problem. Trust me, Chelse" Chelse. Short for Chelsea. The Woman's name was Chelsea.
"I guess."
"Now, kid," the red-head began, "you get one shot to explain. You screw up and we're going to see what we can do about having you expelled.
"I just found him here. I was exploring. But the Wo- Chelsea was coming and I knew she didn't like me and I panicked and-" Dominic rushed over the words. He was hoping this con would be more successful. He was telling the truth after all. Just a better version.
There was a pause. The girls consulted each other before coming to a mutual agreement. They turned back to the boy. This time, Chelsea was in front.
"Why did you try to pick my pocket earlier? A Pokedex isn't just some toy. It can't be replaced."
"I was going to give it back!"
"Huh. I think he was telling the truth."
"I agree. What do we do?" The girls were facing each other. They didn't notice the slight stirring from Dominic's lap.
"Um, can we actually get this guy to the infirmary? You know, because he looks like he's broken his arm."
This snapped the girls out of their talk. They stared at Dominic as if he had grown another head.
"I can't be the only one that remembered he was here, right?"
The girls blinked.
*
Theodore Reading was enjoying this move in day more than most. Ms. Robinson had just contacted him, telling him that there were some students that required attention. The students were brought into the room the old fashioned way, through a ladder that met the floor on the far wall of the office. Once the students were inside, Ms. Robinson gave her boss a polite, curt nod, and hurried down the ladder.
The principal of the…this place looked at the students in front of him. Two girls and a boy. Theodore Reading blinked. Hmm. Special students. On move in day. This was wonderfully fortuitous.
"I take it you three aren't here because of some poorly planned menage a trois went wrong?" The silence that assaulted him was almost painful. "Apparently I'm the only person in the room with a sense of humor. Very well, who wants to begin?"
The silence that assaulted him this time was painful.
"Ok, someone speak up, or I will shuffle through your memories, and I will not be gentle about it. You were invited to my place of higher learning because I respected what you could become. Don't disappoint me like this, or I might be forced to ask you to leave. I hate being bored."
The threat hung in the air. The dark-haired boy just glowered at the floor. Hmm. Surprisingly moody. The blonde girl was doing the same. This surprised Theodore less. The girl standing in between them, though, she practically had to restrain herself from bubbling forth. Good. Just like it should be.
"We found Ivan with another kid and a lot of stolen Pokedexes and he's a pick pocket and tried to pick Chelsea's pocket earlier. Except she caught him. And when we were exploring your facilities, which are above state-of-the-art, by the way, we found Ivan with the kid we talked about. And the kid had fallen from a tree and broken his-"
"Arm?" Theodore offered, trying to give the girl time to catch her breath. He smiled. Yes, the red head was exactly what he expected. She was nodding furiously at this. Theodore smiled and readjusted his glasses.
"Chelsea, you and Ms.-" a quick flicker of thought, "Davis may leave. When you arrive back to your room, there will be a fruit basket awaiting the two of you, along with a coupon for a personal favor from me for each of you. You will be wise to save those. They do not come easily."
"Mr. Ivan, though I doubt that is your real name, you will stay behind so that we may exchange some words."
All three of the students in front of him looked like they were struggling for words. Theodore smiled and reached for his cane. He tapped it twice and then there was a Mr. Mime in the room. The Pokemon nodded to its master before grabbing the girls by their arms. It disappeared with them a moment later.
The boy gaped at what had just happened. It was clear that he had absolutely no idea how to react. Excellent.
"Now Mr. Not-Ivan, I would like to invite you to sit so that we can discuss your actions and their consequences."
The boy looked around the room. There was no seat, with the exception of the borderline throne that the principal was occupying.
"Sir, there doesn't seem to be a chair."
"Please, Sir was my father. You can call me Theodore. Or Teddy. Maybe Ted. Or Principal Reading. Whichever you prefer. And if you really wanted a place to sit-" The cane was tapped against the floor once. A plush chair was now opposite the desk. "you should have only asked. Please be seated."
The boy sat in the chair. His pockets were slightly rigid and bulging. Ah yes, the stolen Pokedexes.
"Do you always carry your ill-gotten loot in your pocket?" The boy looked at his lap and shuffled.
"Only when I'm giving it back, sir."
"You were going to give it back?" A nod. "Well, that changes everything. No punishment. Just don't do it again." The boy's head snapped up so fast that it should have broken. "Oh, and on your way out, stop by the first door on your right. Mr. Francis, the school's librarian lives there. Ask him for Myths and Legendaries: What's the Difference? by Brian Anderson. It contains the answer to some of your questions. The others can only be answered by living life. Oh, and do leave the Pokedexes on your way out. I'll return them on my own."
The boy's mouth hung unabashedly open. He emptied his pockets on to the table. 12 Pokedexes. How he managed to fit all those on his person was better left between him and the confines of space. The boy turned and left, scrambling down the ladder. Theodore Reading smiled and tapped his cane twice. Performer, the Mr. Mime reappeared. A nod and the Pokemon grabbed the devices before blinking out of the room.
Theodore Reading removed his glasses and smiled a smile that was befitting of a man years younger. Ah, to be young and disobey the instructions of your Wise Old Mentor. Life was a strange cycle. He liked it quite a bit.
Generally, this'll be pretty mild, all things considered. There'll be no gore and pretty minor violence, unless something unforeseeable happens and I take a turn for the grim. There will be language. I'm a potty-mouth myself, so I'm actively trying to cut it down, but expect people to sound age accordingly.
The entire thing's planned out, even if only the first three chapters are written, so I'm hoping to stick with it.
My goal is to write a Pokemon Academy story that isn't an aggressive vortex of cliche. Also, fun. It needs to be fun.
Chapter 1
*
The upside to having your secret training facility on an island that no one knows exists is that it's really easy to keep it a secret. Theodore Reading scrutinized the incoming freshmen class from his office window, the entire island available to see due to the fact that his office's walls were all windows. The general upside to having your own secret training facility was that you could make it as prestigious and exclusive as you wanted.
The trouble was that, somewhere on the docked ship was a wild card. Someone had managed to destroy almost all records of who belonged and didn't belong to the incoming students, and Theodore would be damned if he wasn't impressed. He'd developed and guarded the records system himself, and yet someone had managed to get in, alter his records, and now the count of incoming new students was 133 instead of 132. And he had no idea who. It was just so commendable.
Sunlight danced from the sky, shimmering on water, and just generally making things beautiful. The barrier that encapsulated the island somehow made it invisible and impossible to locate without altering the way the weather worked. Again, a system in place by Theodore. He briefly considered what it would be like if that would be the next portion of his system to be infiltrated. His desire for peace ended that fantasy quickly.
A clock struck an hour somewhere and suddenly there was no more time for reflection. Theodore Reading turned from the window and strode to the center of the office, cane in hand. His limp was practically nonexistent, but it never hurt to be prepared. And it looked dignified. Public image was more important than what actually was.
The carpet in the room was made of an intricate pattern of shapes that seemed geometrically infeasible, and yet, was. The center was, just like the room, a massive circle. It was into this circle that Theodore stepped, his cane tapping the floor three times. In response, he felt like he was falling, briefly. And then he wasn't.
Theodore Reading stood behind a podium, in front of his students. Each student was uniquely qualified to be there in some way or another. Hell, even the extra one, if the infiltration wasn't a fluke. The institution, unnamed as it were, was designed with future world leaders in mind, whether it be in Pokemon research, or military action. If you wanted to be a part of the student body, you needed to be the best of the best.
"Hello students," his voice echoed forth, seemingly without aid. There was, of course, an Alakazam back stage that simply made each student hear the voice as if it was being spoken directly to them. Psychic Manipulation of the Brain was an advanced level course, by invite only. Theodore taught the class himself.
There was a reactionary shuffling by some, utter, uncomfortable silence by others. The beginning of a smile formed on his lips.
"Yes, students. You may be wondering why you're students, when so many of you are accomplished in your own fields. We have, in our presence, researchers, breeders, trainers, and much more. The answer is, of course, because I said so. You see, I am fabulously wealthy. I do not intend to die that way. You will be my legacy."
"Some of you will be warriors. Some politicians. Some of you will lose and discover yourself. Hopefully for the better. I welcome you to my school. For the next three weeks, your classes will be assigned. After that, you will have free reign of our academy. Every weekend we will have War Games. Do listen to your seniors. You have much to learn."
With that, Theodore Reading tapped the ground three times with his cane and disappeared completely. A brief murmur rose over the crowd before lightning crashed from the sky, hitting exactly where the old man had been standing. The flash ended, and Theodore was there once again, a sparkle in his eye, an unapologetic grin on his face.
"Before I forget, you may call me Principal Reading. Now, if you excuse me, I must be impressive elsewhere." Theodore turned and walked off, his body fading into nothingness with each step. And then, he wasn't there. The crowd didn't react this time. What was there to say?
-
Chelsea Manson was not amused. This was just ridiculous. Some old man shows up, gives a speech, leaves, and they're expected to what? No. That was bull. She had received an invitation to what she had been promised would be an exclusive, elite training camp. Now it just looked like a sophisticated zoo.
She stretched in her seat, adjusting her red cap. Her cropped blonde hair always had a tendency to get in her eyes, unless she took counter measures. The cap was one such measure. Chelsea glanced at the backpack in her lap. It contained almost all of her possessions in the entire world. She was not thrilled to be carrying it around so openly like this.
The crowd around her rose and sort of shuffled forwards, towards the glaringly white building behind the clearly-thrown-together stage in front of them. Chelsea followed along, her eyes glancing around the crowd. This sucked. This sucked balls. And if what the crew on the boat said, and the old guy's speech certainly made it seem true, she was going to be stuck her much longer than she had planned on.
So lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice the small boy bump into her. Her hand automatically snatched the back of his shirt, latching firm, and it took her brain a split second for her to realize what she had done, and why. Once it caught up, her already sour mood darkened immediately.
"Give it." The boy, couldn't have been much older than 12, looked up.
"Give what?" His face was convincingly innocent. Almost.
"Kid, I've been a trainer for 9 years. I've kick so much ass that people think I've been doing it for twice that long. I'm not stupid. My Pokedex, please."
A dark look crossed the boy's face momentarily, but he consented and handed her a black handheld. She pocketed the electronic device and let go of his shirt. The boy glared at her, adjusting how the neck of his shirt fit him.
"Who do you think you are, anyways, stealing like that?" The boy looked her dead in the eye. His eyes were the kind of gold normally associated with an angry predator's. They, combined with the look of fury on the boy's face, would have been intimidating if the boy wasn't also a good head shorter than her.
"None of your business." He spat the words, turning and dashing further into the crowd. Chelsea reviewed the scene in her head. She'd kick that kid's ass the next time she saw him.
Chelsea entered the front doors of the building and was immediately assaulted with the scent of a bonfire. It practically choked her. A smoky, wood smell. It was nice, but much. Just much. That was the problem with this place. The kid thief, the crazy old guy, the scented air. It was all much. Too much.
Well, that sold it. This place was going to continue to suck. Tremendously.
-
Warren Hammer took in a ragged gasp of air. He needed a glass of water to swallow his horse pills, and unfortunately, he had none. He shouldered his duffle bag and kept on trudging along with the group. His chest ached like no other, but he ignored it. It wasn't too hard, once you got used to the fact that the pain wasn't going to end any time soon.
Warren took a shorter test breath, trying to see if it came any easier. It didn't. He would have sighed, but he couldn't really afford to lose that much air. The pristine, white building was close, but he had no idea how much longer before he could take his pills. Hopefully not too much. The strain in his chest was beginning to get unbearable.
The doors to the building were wide open, propped to welcome in the crowded of newcomers. Apparently the senior students were already off talking or eating or whatever it was they did. Warren had a feeling that it probably had to do with the weekly War Game that Principal Reading had mentioned.
Warren began assessing the student body around him. Most weren't fighters. Which was fine. These War Games were probably just glorified paint ball. But still. He began counting the number of visible Pokeballs, trying to gather an average. He wouldn't get taken by surprise. Getting shot in the chest was a good teacher. Warren inhaled and sure enough, it still hurt. He really needed his pills soon.
A blast of air hit Warren as he stepped into the building. The air carried the scent of mint and- and it didn't hurt to breathe. A deep gulp of air, the kind someone drowning couldn't even remember. The kind Warren hadn't been able to remember. The past three years lay in ashes in the back of his mind. Warren smiled.
The checkerboard linoleum floor looked completely new. It shone and squeaked and did everything a spotless floor was supposed to do. Ahead of the group was a staircase that ended on a platform, before splitting off in two directions. Apparently, living arrangements weren't co-ed.
A man with flaming red hair stood to the left side of the split, ushering the guys of the group to follow alongside his half of the fork. The man spoke in a light, airy accent that Warren couldn't place. The man explained that there were seven floors to the building. The first floor held classrooms and the dining area, the second through fifth floors held student living quarters, with each successively higher floor holding students of a higher year. The next floor was teacher and staff living. The final floor belonged solely to the principal.
The red haired man's language was quick and efficient. He explained things with no hesitation and the relaxed ease of someone who just knew he was better than you. Warren blew a puff of air at him and grinned. The air even tasted like mint. This place was too good to be true.
Warren found his room halfway down the hall. His room was startlingly bare. The walls were red brick, there were two twin beds on opposite ends of the room, a desk situated at the foot of each bed, a bathroom that apparently adjoined with the neighboring room, and a closet. All in all, it was still significantly better than what he was used to.
Warren threw his duffel bag on to a bed and fished around in his pocket for his pill bottle. He dropped two large, powder blue pills into his hand, closed the bottle and threw it on the bed. He tossed one pill in his mouth, cupped some water from the sink in his free hand, and swallowed. He mimicked the motion for the next pill. He had no idea if it would be necessary in his new, awesome, minty environment, but it was always better to be safe than sorry, at least until if his medication was redundant.
"Oh, a junkie." Warren turned to door, guessing the speaker was his new roommate. He was. And one look seemed to be all that was needed to confirm something Warren had feared. He was going to hate him.
-
Beth Davis assigned a mental point to Totally Awesome. The air even smelled like books. Her roommate was being a bit of a gloomy gus, but this place was fantastic. The island was completely invisible from the outside, which meant some powerful Psychic Pokemon monitored the island. Or possibly an around the clock team. Maybe even, there was a machine. Though, she had no idea what kind of machine would be able to do that, or what it would look like. She had to find out.
Beth finished situating her books and camera on her desk and looked at her blonde roommate. Blondes were so cool. It was a recessive trait, which meant that the girl's parents were carriers, at the very minimum, so there was this chain of blonde alleles disappearing into the past on both sides of her roommates' family. That was pretty cool.
Of course, Beth's red hair, green eyes, and color blindness made her infinitely more special, but she would never say that to- Chelsea, she believed the girl's name was. Of course, Beth was actually absolutely certain that Chelsea was her roommate's name, she almost never forgot a fact, but it would be creepy to admit that the knowledge was such an automatic thing, even in her inner dialogue.
"So, roomie, what are you in for?"
"Excuse me?" Chelsea spoke harshly, impatiently.
"Well, you heard what Principal Reading said. Researchers, breeders, trainers, and much more. Which are you? I'm a researcher, through and through. Though, I also take pictures, so I might be a 'much more'. I'm not completely certain. So not really through and through. Half and half? No, that sounds stupid. Hmm. Oh. Um, you?" Long pause. Minus a point from categories Tact and Brevity.
"Oh. Trainer." Well that was obvious. Still, Beth had thought to ask. It was more polite than making the obvious assumption, even based on the obvious evidence of the girl's attitude and numerous Pokeballs.
"I could never have been a trainer-"
"It beneath you?" Touchy. Either Chelsea was always on edge, unlikely, or something had upset her. Time to run a little maintenance.
"Not at all. Too demanding. I mean, I'd like to think that I'm tough, but being a trainer takes a special-" Beth paused here. Her next choice in words would be important and deliberate. "Constitution. You know, like a mindset and sort of physical strength and just, it's all way too tough for a city girl like me. So, research."
Chelsea's eyes widened slowly. It wasn't that she was surprised. It was just that she had released her narrowed glare.
"Damn right, training's tough. Most people get all hoity toity and act like anyone can do it."
"Most people are idiots who speak before thinking."
"Amen to that. Sorry about being all snotty, earlier," Chelsea was actually smiling now. Beth mentally gave herself a point back into Tact.
"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day? Until dinner, that is."
"I figured I'd check out the grounds, see the battling arena in the back, stuff like that."
"Would you mind if I joined you?" Beth prepared herself for an incoming rejection. In her 18 years of life, she got turned away, rejected, and shot down more times than she could count. That's not actually true. 408 times in the past 8 years, since she started counting. That was almost once a week.
"Not at all. Just keep up and don't get too loud."
"Me, loud? What makes you think that I'm loud?"
"Gut feeling."
-
Rexplode Geyser was loving this. This private island was sweet as…as ambrosia, or something else that's super sweet. It kinda stung that he hadn't formally been chosen to attend, but he was here and he wasn't planning on going anywhere. He had even given himself a sweet new name for the occasion. Rexplode Geyser. You don't mess with a guy with a name like that.
Rex had dumped his stuff in his room as soon as he could. He knew he'd have a roommate, but he didn't stick around to meet him. There was more important things to do. For instance, anything but sitting still. What was the point of being on an invisible, private island if you weren't going to do anything awesome?
Of course, by definition, everything about an invisible, private island was inherently awesome. But Rex liked to live life in the moment, which really just meant he had poor impulse control. So he was going to go exploring, self-awareness be damned.
The sun was high in the sky, just past its apex. So a little after noon, then. Cool. Dinner was in roughly five hours, which meant Rex could manage to only be bored for a couple hours before dinner. Good. Better than life outside the island where he'd be bored for all five. Rex winced. His parents were going to be pissed he had run away again. But his brother would be super impressed, hopefully.
Jacob was kinda a legend at the Rustboro Trainers School and Rex always had to live in shadow. The fact that battling wasn't his primary goal in life meant that the shadow only stretched further back. Luckily, Rex had found his escape route. It seemed a little counter-intuitive, but he thought it was brilliant. Sneaking into Jacob's school, under a new identity. He would have to avoid his brother until he could stand as an equal to him, on his own merits, but that wouldn't be too hard. Rex had plenty of merits.
Rexplode counted them off in his head as he climbed one of the trees lining the courtyard, behind the school. It was still kinda boggling that there were so many trees, but he had grown up in the middle of a city. He was sure he'd adapt. He was a smart kid.
Smart enough to sneak onto an invisible island. He was focused, too, when he had a goal. Curious. Eh, curiosity was a little weird. He wasn't sure if he had too much for it to qualify as a merit or not, so he threw it into the Not A Merit category for the moment. So far that, and the fact that he had never kissed a boy were the only two things in it. One of those was fixable, though. Rex just had to keep looking. Hmm. Maybe curiosity would fit into the Merit category, then?
Rex was so absorbed with his internal dialogue, he failed to grasp the branch above him. The word spun briefly, and then things went black.
-
Dominic looked at the stuff on his bed. Not a lot. He had managed to snatch a few things here and there from the other students, but overall, he had not a lot. Except for It, and he would never let anyone else see It. Too dangerous. Dominic understood danger instinctually and deeply, the way only a lifetime of being someone's prey could instill. So It would remain attached to a necklace, a small circular lump underneath his shirt.
He looked across the room at his roommate. The man must be in his mid-to-late twenties. Tall. Hair buzzed short. Muscles. How he had ever confused the man for a substance abuser, even for a second, was beyond him. The man, Warren, was sorting through things from his duffle bag, occasionally casting Dominic a glance or two. He didn't trust Dominic. Well good. He shoudn't.
Dominic looked at the Pokedexes he'd managed to nab. He'd give them back to their owners just as soon as- done. He had successfully copied the information from their Pokedexes to his. He checked his personal one and let out a low whistle. That old guy hadn't been lying when he said these trainers were the best of the best. Dominic's Pokedex now listed over 350 different species of Pokemon.
Dominic stuffed the electronics back into his pocket. He would drop them off with different teachers, or give them to students to drop off to different teachers. Everyone got their database back, and it couldn't be traced to him. Perfect.
"Ok, kid, I've been trying to ignore it, but-" Warren began, sounding weary. Dominic felt heat flush in his chest, his ears popped and his vision went wide.
"Back off." His back was to the man, but he could still feel Warren react. He could feel it, in his skin. The slight shift, the way it affected the air. He knew the man had looked puzzled and sat on his own bed. He Knew. The unnatural feeling, almost anger, the Knowing, was reassuring.
"What's your deal, kid? I mean, confusing me for an addict, I get. Kinda. But I feel like you should explain-"
"So you can mock? Pretend to understand? No. I don't think so. And you better not touch my stuff. If I see you near it, I will kill you."
"I- look, I don't know what your life was like. I get that it was hard. Mine was no walk in the park either, but I'm aware that it was probably easier than yours. I'm just trying to reach a middle ground, ok?"
"You don't touch my stuff and I won't touch yours."
"Ok, agreed. Absolutely. I'll sign it in blood, if you want me to."
"That won't be necessary." Dominic could feel the man's sincerity in the air, even with the attempt at humor. He could feel it needle-press into the base of his skull. How dare this man pity him? How dare he? Maybe he doesn't. Dominic gulped down a gasp and turned to look at the man across from him.
"I'm going to go out. I'll try to have some sort of schedule down so you'll know when to expect me in the room. I'll stay out of your hair, you stay out of mine."
Without further prompting, Dominic left the room and shortly, left the building. The outside air was purer. Better. He smiled and touched It. Then he yanked his hand away from his chest and continued his walk. He looked through his Pokedex, staring intently at certain Pokemon listings here and there. Tropius was holding his attention when he heard a crash. He looked up and noticed, for the first time, that he had circled the building and was wandering a courtyard behind the school.
Dominic's eyes were pulled to the source of the crash, instantly and automatically. There was a boy, older than him, sprawled out on the ground. The boy had managed to break his fall on absolutely nothing. His left arm was twisted, and blood was soaking his shirt. Dominic knew exactly what to do. He turned and walked away.
This action led his gaze to the Woman from earlier, walking with another girl. Dominic swore and turned back to the fallen boy. He glanced back. No other options were leaping to mind. The blonde she-devil wasn't going to be nice to him, but maybe he could win over her friend. He still had a minute before their path would lead them to notice him. He could swing it. Hopefully.
Dominic walked up to the boy, knelt on the ground, and cradled his upper body in his lap. The picture of a concerned friend. Dominic darted his head around a few times, as if looking for help.
"Anybody?!" he called out, his voice pitched perfect for sympathy and attention. He had mastered the tone years ago.
"Oh no!" It was a female voice and not one that belonged to the Woman. Score.
"I- my friend. He was in a tree and- and…" Dominic drifted off, casting his eyes to the ground.
The female, the one that wasn't the Woman, walked into view and bent down, studying Dominic's face. Her's grew puzzled, and she stood back up, walking to the Woman. She whispered.
"It's weird. I can't tell if he's telling the truth or not. I…I don't know. Normally I can read people kinda easily. But this kid…" her whisper faded. Dominic Knew she had finished talking and not just lowered her voice further. He could feel it in the air.
"Hey kid, what's your name?" It was the Woman. Crap.
"I- Ivan," he sniveled out, his mind cringing and racing. Did they buy it?
"Ivan. Could you look up at us. We need to talk to you." Crapcrapcrap.
Dominic clenched his fist, closing his eyes tightly. Sometimes you had to know when to fold them. And sometimes, you kept on trying to play despite your better judgment. He could have bolted, but this was one of the latter cases. Dominic twisted, turning to face the woman, without dropping the boy in his lap. He heard the Woman gasp. Whelp, the game was over and he had definitely lost.
"It's you! You little shi-" the Woman stopped herself. "Beth, get a teacher. I bet this kid was the one who pushed him."
"I'm a pick pocket, not a…an assaulter!" Dominic fumbled with his words. He'd never lost this quickly before. He wasn't quite sure how to move on from the point.
"Oh yeah. I bet you just found this kid here and weren't thinking about stealing his Pokedex at all." The red-headed girl gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth in a way that most people don't actually do.
"No! I was just walking and-"
"And what?" This time it was the red-head who spoke. That hurt. She had seemed nice-ish.
"You can't expect me to answer a question if you keep interrupting me!" Dominic's mind was reeling.
"Oh yeah?! Well-" The Woman began, before her friend cut her off.
"No. He's right about that. I'm not going to say he isn't a little…what you were going to say. But he can't answer our questions if we don't give him the chance."
"What if he lies?" the Woman's tone was almost whiny. If the situation wasn't so awful, Dominic would have laughed.
"Are you kidding me? Between the two of us, we'll catch him, no problem. Trust me, Chelse" Chelse. Short for Chelsea. The Woman's name was Chelsea.
"I guess."
"Now, kid," the red-head began, "you get one shot to explain. You screw up and we're going to see what we can do about having you expelled.
"I just found him here. I was exploring. But the Wo- Chelsea was coming and I knew she didn't like me and I panicked and-" Dominic rushed over the words. He was hoping this con would be more successful. He was telling the truth after all. Just a better version.
There was a pause. The girls consulted each other before coming to a mutual agreement. They turned back to the boy. This time, Chelsea was in front.
"Why did you try to pick my pocket earlier? A Pokedex isn't just some toy. It can't be replaced."
"I was going to give it back!"
"Huh. I think he was telling the truth."
"I agree. What do we do?" The girls were facing each other. They didn't notice the slight stirring from Dominic's lap.
"Um, can we actually get this guy to the infirmary? You know, because he looks like he's broken his arm."
This snapped the girls out of their talk. They stared at Dominic as if he had grown another head.
"I can't be the only one that remembered he was here, right?"
The girls blinked.
*
Theodore Reading was enjoying this move in day more than most. Ms. Robinson had just contacted him, telling him that there were some students that required attention. The students were brought into the room the old fashioned way, through a ladder that met the floor on the far wall of the office. Once the students were inside, Ms. Robinson gave her boss a polite, curt nod, and hurried down the ladder.
The principal of the…this place looked at the students in front of him. Two girls and a boy. Theodore Reading blinked. Hmm. Special students. On move in day. This was wonderfully fortuitous.
"I take it you three aren't here because of some poorly planned menage a trois went wrong?" The silence that assaulted him was almost painful. "Apparently I'm the only person in the room with a sense of humor. Very well, who wants to begin?"
The silence that assaulted him this time was painful.
"Ok, someone speak up, or I will shuffle through your memories, and I will not be gentle about it. You were invited to my place of higher learning because I respected what you could become. Don't disappoint me like this, or I might be forced to ask you to leave. I hate being bored."
The threat hung in the air. The dark-haired boy just glowered at the floor. Hmm. Surprisingly moody. The blonde girl was doing the same. This surprised Theodore less. The girl standing in between them, though, she practically had to restrain herself from bubbling forth. Good. Just like it should be.
"We found Ivan with another kid and a lot of stolen Pokedexes and he's a pick pocket and tried to pick Chelsea's pocket earlier. Except she caught him. And when we were exploring your facilities, which are above state-of-the-art, by the way, we found Ivan with the kid we talked about. And the kid had fallen from a tree and broken his-"
"Arm?" Theodore offered, trying to give the girl time to catch her breath. He smiled. Yes, the red head was exactly what he expected. She was nodding furiously at this. Theodore smiled and readjusted his glasses.
"Chelsea, you and Ms.-" a quick flicker of thought, "Davis may leave. When you arrive back to your room, there will be a fruit basket awaiting the two of you, along with a coupon for a personal favor from me for each of you. You will be wise to save those. They do not come easily."
"Mr. Ivan, though I doubt that is your real name, you will stay behind so that we may exchange some words."
All three of the students in front of him looked like they were struggling for words. Theodore smiled and reached for his cane. He tapped it twice and then there was a Mr. Mime in the room. The Pokemon nodded to its master before grabbing the girls by their arms. It disappeared with them a moment later.
The boy gaped at what had just happened. It was clear that he had absolutely no idea how to react. Excellent.
"Now Mr. Not-Ivan, I would like to invite you to sit so that we can discuss your actions and their consequences."
The boy looked around the room. There was no seat, with the exception of the borderline throne that the principal was occupying.
"Sir, there doesn't seem to be a chair."
"Please, Sir was my father. You can call me Theodore. Or Teddy. Maybe Ted. Or Principal Reading. Whichever you prefer. And if you really wanted a place to sit-" The cane was tapped against the floor once. A plush chair was now opposite the desk. "you should have only asked. Please be seated."
The boy sat in the chair. His pockets were slightly rigid and bulging. Ah yes, the stolen Pokedexes.
"Do you always carry your ill-gotten loot in your pocket?" The boy looked at his lap and shuffled.
"Only when I'm giving it back, sir."
"You were going to give it back?" A nod. "Well, that changes everything. No punishment. Just don't do it again." The boy's head snapped up so fast that it should have broken. "Oh, and on your way out, stop by the first door on your right. Mr. Francis, the school's librarian lives there. Ask him for Myths and Legendaries: What's the Difference? by Brian Anderson. It contains the answer to some of your questions. The others can only be answered by living life. Oh, and do leave the Pokedexes on your way out. I'll return them on my own."
The boy's mouth hung unabashedly open. He emptied his pockets on to the table. 12 Pokedexes. How he managed to fit all those on his person was better left between him and the confines of space. The boy turned and left, scrambling down the ladder. Theodore Reading smiled and tapped his cane twice. Performer, the Mr. Mime reappeared. A nod and the Pokemon grabbed the devices before blinking out of the room.
Theodore Reading removed his glasses and smiled a smile that was befitting of a man years younger. Ah, to be young and disobey the instructions of your Wise Old Mentor. Life was a strange cycle. He liked it quite a bit.
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