Chapter One - Starting Point
Converged upon Cherrygrove, a meeting point for people and nature alike, the group make their final preparations before finally setting off on their Pokemon Journey.​

The tiny Cherrygrove City sits on a corner of the continent where the beach meets the forest, a picturesque location that barely qualifies as a city - some would call it a large town.

Rustic looking houses intermingle with more modern amenities such as shopping centres and the brand new Cherrygrove Pokemon Centre. Throughout the city, large patches of flowers can be seen, blending nature in with the contrasting human developments and surrounding the locale are thick woodlands and, to the west, the sea. There is often a pleasant natural aroma hanging in the air over Cherrygrove.

The beautiful scenic views and nature trails around Cherrygrove allow for pleasant outings surrounded by the wild without ever straying too far from the city itself and, despite Cherrygrove only being a day away from Violet City on foot and even less to Newbark Town, give it an isolated feel. Cherrygrove is typically an extremely peaceful place to live.

Notable Locations
None really unless you count one of several small nature trails or the beach.

Available Wild Pokemon

. . . approaching Route 30: the burden of being a token 'best one'

It's only posing as a Pokémart.
------She knows the moment she halts in front the double doors and they fail to open for her. But, unfaltered, despite the incessant tug of a Girafarig's teeth on the hem of her skirt, she pushes through into the convenience store.
------Immediately, the place smells cynical and chemical to her — a hospital smell, and she would know. The nefariousness is as palpable here as the irony of the peeling, Clefairy-print wallpaper; she recalls all those efforts to reverse the "Big R" days, and what aspects of prior criminality went unaccounted in the process. It's apocalyptic, the floor and shelves swathed in disarray. Amidst the snap and crackle of the sound system, a man belts from a time past:

------Are you happy? / In the warmth of last night / I softly whispered as I held you tight.

------Though there isn't any use in studying — everything else is all just first impression — and she is very much sick of sightseeing in this town, so she strides to the countertop at the face of the room. And the cashier just watches her. Respiration mask on his face, yet a lit cigarette in his fingers, the butt red-hot. A reminiscent round scar, a perverse bindi of a burn mark on his forehead. Besides that, he is tensed figure of gauntness and steady black eyes.
------A Murkrow partner peers imperiously overhead. Silent — even as the music croons, this place is silent. And the way Lana-Noon forces through to stand beside her, she anticipates any attempt to leave will be more so them being let out of this place.
------And yet, there is very little for her to fear. Oetsu Mihra smiles and says to the shopkeeper, "Good morning."
------No response.
------Nothing lost.
------"Let's cut the crap, yeah? I have the money for ten Pokéballs. But I know the system."
------Lala-Noon strangles a cry of resistance; Mihra makes her offering in clattering, flattering coins, falling over one another from the girl's hands onto the countertop. The cashier considers it with little more than the metallic reflection in his eyes; he's staring at her.
------"So," Mihra continues. "Let's barter. 2000 Poké, exactly, for one Premium Ball." She leans over her hoard, supported on freckled arms, with the same crooked, cocky smile. "I don't need to explain how that's the perfect deal, you know."
------But she was going to, anyway, until the cashier interrupted.

------"Kid. You know the Professor?"
------Her Girafarig swallowed hard. And Mihra, she dialed back, confused. "Uhmm." Not knowing how to answer, and sufficing, in a mumble: "I guess."

------In that instant, it wasn't a matter or question of "whether she did" as he rasps next, "Do you know them." There is something in the man's hand as his arms hang unfolded, and as he slides his thumb across it, Lala-Noon recognizes before she can even rephrase - a blade juts to life between the shopkeeper's fingers: a box cutter.
------The girl is stricken with a sense of mortality that she hasn't in a long time. Physically, she freezes, but the words come flying: "You can pull a weapon on me if you want, doesn't matter, if you know me, you know I don't have that long anyway, so you're just loading even more charges on you then you'd reasonably need already, what with being a retired gang lord."

------Lala-Noon moves first. She is between Mihra, the counter, and the cashier as the cashier vaults the latter. One arm is poised with the box cutter, the other acts as leverage, just as Mihra had propped herself. Seconds before. With it pressed against the counter top, she perceives the bulge of lean muscle, once subtle. The man is pale, not with sickness but an apparent hunger that brings color to his dark eyes. He has dropped his cigarette in the space behind him.
------They can't break for the door, though Lala-Noon glimpses back anyway with a longing. The Murkrow adds a low croon to tune of Yukata Ozaki¹, a putrid, black reminder of its presence like the subtle insignia of a cigarette burn. There are close to a thousand scenarios of what it could do, many of which involve uninhibited Pursuit, none of which they are in sufficient position to counter.
------The cashier rasps,"Don't care. And not retired. Do you know them."

------Mihra doesn't dare to breathe, but at least knows exactly what to say. "I don't have contact information, but I have a location. I'm meeting three other Trainers at the base of Route 30: Jack Siegal, Kilian Warren, and Hugo Colthearts. I can give you contact information for any of them, at least one of them probably knows more than I do, and I don't know much. But we're inevitably going to meet them either on the way or at Violet."
------"So you don't know where they are."
------"No, and I don't know anything about who they are or what they do. I'm just like everyone else there."

------The more she speaks the more breath she loses, like running, running for her life on automatic, nothing going to her head. The cashier is strangely cool throughout it all, and she manages to channel that survival instinct so arbitrary to her into a loathing, having her spill and continuing to stand there, blade in one hand, brow heavy with disgruntlement, like he's the one at a loss.
------Begrudgingly, he does retract the box cutter to his side, behind the countertop. "Nhh, fuck." Set back a bit, he dips into the store depths to recuperate, leaving Mihra and her partner under the gaze of the Murkrow.

------He appears shortly after with a package, plunks it on the counter, tears it open with the cutter, still in his hand. Everything in and about this place lingers. When he opens the box, he takes out a little white sphere and hands it to Mihra.
------"Seriously?"
------"You paid for it. Overpriced rinky piece of shit."
------"This is seriously supposed to pacify me."
------"Dumb kid. I'm not letting you go."
------She shuts up.

------The man turns to vanish again, behind the curtains. To busy herself, she turns the Premium Ball over and over as it grows to fill the cup of her hands. Lala-Noon nuzzles her shoulder in the current span of peace— a CRACK echoing from the back sends her taut again, as the cashier CRACKs and CRACKs again, barking, "HUH!? That's fucking right, punk!That's fucking right! You won't say SHIT—!"

------"Oh, no" It hits like a spell. Mental tumult, and not enough time to register, and a certain self-hatred from failing to register in the first place. Dumb, dumb kid - it was true. But she didn't deserve this. Fuck, she just wanted to catch a Rattata or something in a fancy ball.

------The cashier reemerges, again, all too casual. "Don't cry, kid. Don't wanna scare the cops."
------"Mm." She's heard that quip before. She hadn't planned to, but wipes her eyes all the same.
------"What're you gonna do…?"
------In response, the cashier jabs a finger towards whence she came. "In a few minutes, some 'personal aides' are gonna escort you through Route 30 with your gang: Siegal, Warren, Colthearts. They're not gonna do anything to you.They're just gonna follow you, and you get them through the route."
------There was no successive, affirmatory, "Got that?" There was simply quiet, steady understanding. And regardless if he knew, the silent swear of revenge, that this was not over.

------Lala-Noon was wracked with anxiety, and she put a hand on the Girafarig's shoulder in an effort to steady her as the Murkrow launched into motion, wheeling overhead like a bird of prey.

Johto's Routes 30 and 31 join together to form a long path to the next city along, Violet City. Not a particularly impressive road, these routes are a relatively simple journey over a dirt road with thick woodlands on either side as the salty sea breeze disappears behind you. That being said, it's an uphill trek until route 31 begins and it's easy to find yourself stuck climbing up a ledge if you stray too far from the beaten path.

Every now and then travellers along this road will pass the homes of those who prefer solitude to living directly within either Cherrygrove or Violet City.

Notable Locations
Mr. Pokemon's House
Mr. Pokemon's House: This is a small home with a spacious backyard, the home of "Mr Pokemon". Originally he was an extremely famous breeder, known for many noteworthy trainers achieving great success with Pokemon he bred. He is now semi-retired but still offers his servers to a select few lucky customers such as Professor Elm or other people of influence.

Available Wild Pokemon