Plans Better Laid
The day me and my starter Pokemon got acquainted was an interesting one to say the least. I suppose, looking back, I enjoyed it: but certainly not at the time. I can't help but wonder if my journey would have turned out any differently if I had done something... better.
~ ~ ~
Chapter One:
One Hell of a Frustrating Day [Pt. I]
When the sun came up above the trees in Pallet Town, some people rose, others remained in their beds, dead asleep: but it was a guarantee that all but one resident would be up within the next three to four hours.
That one resident was Emma Claire Rose, fifteen years of age and quite the lazy lady. It was nine o' clock A.M. now, and if one was to head into her room, part of the smallest house of the small town, they would find her in her pajamas, snoring loud enough to intimidate a Gyarados.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
"For the love of Arceus!" Emma grunted, turning over and slapping a thin hand against the snooze button. "...Who invented alarm-"
She could not quite complete the thought: instead, her primal urge for more rest took over, and before she knew it, she was asleep yet again.
~ ~ ~
The morning, for the most part, was a series of fragmented memories. Memories of the most frustrating moments, and there were several.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
"Why?" she muttered. Another turn, and her eyes opened: she pushed locks of brown hair away, which had been matted to her face in her slumber, and examined the alarm clock on the wooden blue nightstand next to her bed. "Ten o'clock... oh, I don't have to be... thirty minutes..."
It struck her, and she sat bolt upright. "The walk to the school is thirty minutes. There are no buses running today-
craaaaap!"
~ ~ ~
Emma Rose stared at herself in the full body mirror standing in the corner of her room, nodding in approval of her appearance: in the situation, the red miniskirt she had grabbed and sleeveless blue blouse would have to work. She reached out onto her nightstand, grabbing at the white hat perched on top, and fitted it onto her head.
Another nod, and she took off.
Halfway down the steps, she realized that she had forgotten her bag. The bag that had her License in it.
"CRAAAAP!"
~ ~ ~
The next thing she remembered, she was blurring past the couch, and stopped to stare at the lack of a person there. This elicited a soft sigh: then it hit her again, and she zipped off out the quaint home, stopping only to lock the door behind her.
~ ~ ~
CRAAAAP!
Emma Rose, despite her slim figure, was not exactly the picture next to "fitness" in the dictionary. She hadn't done much running in her life past her younger days, playing in the fields with her long-time friend Robin. Even then, on most days, the two would sit inside with dolls and do comfortable, non-sweaty things.
Looking at Emma Rose as she slowed to a crawl next to the center of hatred in her life, you could tell that pretty well. Her hair was matted to her face (again) with sweat, her chest rising and falling like a hyperactive tide, her breath replaced by steady wheezing. She could not take it anymore.
Nathaniel Oak stopped his brisk walk and simply stared at her for a few moments, his eyes examining her, up and down- she saw it, payed careful attention to those green irises to make sure they didn't wander and stop for a rest in any specific places (great blackmail if they did, after all)- then, he let loose a low chuckle.
"The infamous Slaking of Pallet Town has arisen and actually might make it on time. I'm impressed," he quipped.
She glared daggers at him. She had only stopped because for some odd reason, her mind had registered him as a sign that things were alright now. Of course he had to be a jerk. No, "Are you okay, Emma?"s, or "Wow, nice job, you must be really excited about this"- he had to insult her.
"Nice to see you too, Oakie-dork," she gasped, slight pauses in between each word.
He began to walk, and she grimaced, starting to follow him. She did believe she was set now, though - if he was on schedule, she would be to, and if he was late, she wouldn't be in the spotlight. He nodded slowly.
"Robin is probably already there, I bet," he mused. "That girl has too much energy."
She did agree with that. Robin Byrd was a mutual friend, and really the only reason that the two teenagers agreed to stand each other. "Aye, that she does." As she walked, she ran her hands through her hair, trying to use them as a makeshift brush to at least make herself look presentable. "But, makes her a good candidate... unlike
you."
"Says the one who is about to die from... what, a fifteen minute jog?"
Okay, so she did overexaggerate the distance some. But she liked to relax! "Just be quiet, will you?"
"Says the one who stopped for conversation," he noted.
"I didn't stop for conversation!" she snapped. "I just... felt comfortable stopping."
"For conversation." A glint in his eyes. She caught it: present only for a second, gone as quick as her patience with him.
"Damn you," she muttered.
He grinned. "Wuzzat? Didn't hear you."
She glanced up: they were at the foot of the small hill the school stood on.
Oh god, a hill: she could already hear her aching muscles and her overworked lungs crying out in protest. "I said shove it where the sun doesn't shine, Nathan."
"In your mood?" he asked softly.
"Exactly- wait!" She stomped, and started to walk a little faster, attempting to outspeed Nathan. He upped his pace too.
"Running from your problems won't solve them," Nathan said.
"Acknowledging you're a problem?" she asked.
He stopped dead in his tracks, shutting his eyes. She stopped too, just staring at him as his lips curled upward into a smile. "I try to be."
"You're good at it," she deadpanned, before continuing on. Nathan did not try to catch up.
~ ~ ~
Once inside the school, the trip to the Professor's Laboratory was a breeze. On the way, she reviewed to herself what was going to happen today.
Today was the Annual Trainers for Education program's first event: founder and main supporter, also sleepy Pallet Town's one bright spot in the spotlight, Professor Samuel Oak would initiate the trainers into the program.
ATE was a program that, to Emma, was one of those things which sounded great in the long run, but the execution of it was going to be... difficult to say the least. Professor Oak would be examining the seniors at the academy and pick three of them. These three would be taking Pokemon out on a journey through the Kanto region, and when they returned to Pallet Town- blam, free trip to a college of their choice. She was somewhat curious how that was funded - maybe she should ask.
The Pokemon they would receive weren't all that prestigious, she had been told. They would simply be whatever Professor Oak had on him at the time. She was just doing this for the college trip anyway, so she really didn't care too much.
Pokemon Training, needless to say, with all of its physical and mental work, had not appealed to her that much. Sure, she had considered it in those days when Pokemon Training was the coolest thing ever, when every girl wanted to get themselves a Clefairy and every boy a Charmander and go out, taking on the world- but she had eventually decided to go against the crowd and further her studies.
She laughed. And now here she was, willingly signing herself up for it.
She turned the corner, and noticed Robin Byrd standing in front of the door to the Professor's room. She grinned, nodding.
"Not too bad lookin', Robin," she said, and it was the truth: the girl was roughly Emma's own height of about five foot two, but her body had the slightest signs of muscle to it, while Emma was just... skin and bones. That, combined with the jeans and white blouse she wore, and with her blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, blew Emma away in comparison, she believed.
"Look like you've had a rough morning," Robin said, her face scrunched up, a signature nervous tic of hers. "Run into Nathan on the way here, by chance?"
"Aye, slept in-"
"No big surprise there," Robin pointed out. Emma shrugged.
"And yeah, the jerk is on the way. Should be here any minute now."
Robin sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "You two should get along better. Nathan is nice when you're nice to him."
"Like he deserves it," she scoffed. Robin shook her head.
"He does! You just need to stop being so stubborn."
"More like he needs to stop insulting people every other sentence..."
"Every sentence is more like it," a voice said. She threw a glance over her shoulder, saw Nathan turning the corner, and shrugged.
Robin extended a hand, gently patting Emma on the head. Well, on the hat. "Alrighty! The Professor said we could come on in once all three of us were here. And I am right in thinking one, one and one is three, right?"
"And you completed ten years of academia?" Nathan asked.
"Math has never been my greatest subject."
And with that, the three of them bust out laughing.
When the commotion died down, Robin was the first to enter. Nathan pushed past Emma with a grunt and followed suit: Emma groaned and was the last to enter.
Professor Oak was an ailing man, Emma had always thought, especially when she had him for her history class two years prior. He would always spend at least five minutes - cumulative, note - through the entire fifty minute period to just sit and cough up a lung or two. His face was covered in wrinkles, devoid of any sort of color. His frame was small, and he walked with a slight hunch. Yet, he kept on ticking, seemingly infallible.
And he greeted the three youngsters with a grin and a wave.
"Grandpa," Nathan said with one of those brisk nods that Emma had never understood.
"Nathan," he said, returning the gesture, then chuckling softly. He followed this up with a cough, but Emma was used to that- Robin, however, stepped forward, only to jerk back, as if deciding against it, when the old man rebounded quickly. "And of course, Miss Byrd and Miss Rose."
"Emma," Emma responded. "I told you that a million times, Professor! Just call me Emma."
"Of course, of course."
"Good to see you, Professor," Robin said respectfully.
"You too, Miss Byrd. You too! Now then, shall we get down to business?"
~ ~ ~
That was one thing that cool, aloof Nathan Oak really didn't like about his grandfather. He had the smooth, get-down-to-business attitude, while Nathan enjoyed smalltalk, and time to gather his thoughts.
But, he supposed, he had to deal with it if he were to ever get this opportunity: something his late parents had pushed for was for him to get an education, and his grandfather had made sure to make him get that. But what Nathan really wanted was to head out and explore the world, and make a name for himself other than "Professor Oak's grandson".
It was a name he despised: and as he stepped forward and spoke, he held it in mind. "Good idea. Let's get this done so I can get out of here."
His grandfather cast him a quick glance, then nodded. "Aye. Strange for you to be so eager, Nathan, but I'm glad to see it!" The old man placed his hand on the mouse of his computer, the large screen in front of it flaring to life. "Love this new technology..."
Nathan was rather nervous, if he was to be honest with himself. He had annoyed the Rose girl for that reason, and intended to bug her more if possible. Wonderful stress relief.
The screen came to life, and the Professor opened up a program on his desktop, titled, "TFE INFO". If there was one thing he found amusing about his grandfather's computer habits is that he capitalized words almost at random.
Thankfully, the information in this program had been written by someone else.
"Take your seats, kids," he said, winking. "Time for one more class."
"But we already graduated!" Nathan heard the Rose girl whine. He chuckled.
"Afraid of more learning?" he asked. "Think your brain will explode after learning that two plus two equals four, right?"
"Quiet, Oak- er, Nathan," she mumbled.
"Relax, relax," the Professor said, "It'll only be ten minutes of information, then we can pick your starters, and blam- out the door you go."
~ ~ ~
All throughout the short program, Robin Byrd strummed her fingers nervously onto the hardwood countertop of the odd-looking desks that the Professor used. Her brain absorbed the information through osmosis, while her mind itself wandered in anxiety.
Finally, things ended.
"Now, does everyone understand the information? Any more questions?" the Professor asked.
Silence.
"I'll take that as a yes- so, Miss Byrd, why don't you recap?"
Curse you, silence!
"Of course, sir!" she chirped.
"First off, tell me what the Electronic Market Card is, and what it does."
She thought for a moment, then nodded. "The Electronic Market Card, or EMC for short, automatically records any money earned throughout your career as a trainer. The money is then usable at any Pokemart- and half of the money spent goes to the marts, per very nice agreement, and the other half comes back to the head honcho of the TFE program to deposit in the 'college funds box' for the three of us!"
Oak smiled widely. "Very good, Miss Byrd. Next, explain what TFE
is."
That she knew immediately. "TFE is a program which, in turn for a person going out and journeying with Pokemon for a year and a half, can return to Pallet Town for an all-expenses paid trip to the college of their choice, as long as their funds built up allow it."
"Albeit, I may slip in the extra few credits necessary to get you in if your funds are a tad bit short." The Professor winked. "Very good. Finally, list the requirements for officially completing the program."
That, she didn't know. She stared at him silently. Finally, Nathan spoke up, saving her from admitting her own lack of attention.
"The trainer in question must at least beat five Pokemon gyms, or catch and train a full team of six, or compete in at least five contests, depending on their preferences. You can't just go out and live in Viridian City for a year and a half."
The Professor nodded. "Very good, Nathan, very good. It seems that at least the two of you were paying attention."
Robin blinked. The two of them? What about- oh.
~ ~ ~
Next thing Emma Rose knew, she was looking up into the old and wrinkled face of Professor Oak, looming above her. Her mind, fresh off of sleep, did not quite register what was going on.
"What'cha doin' in my house, Professor?" she asked sleepily. Her bed was awfully firm, she suddenly realized.
"Since when did you live in the school, Miss Rose?" he asked softly, almost comforting with its gentleness.
"School- wha-"
CRRRRAAAAAAPPPPPP!
She sat upright almost immediately, perfecting her posture and staring stoicly at the bemused Professor.
"Forgive me, sir," she said, nodding quickly.
"It's alright. All I'll have you do is stay behind Miss Byrd and Nathan for make-up lessons." He smiled, then turned. "But for now, why don't we get you three your starters?"
Emma's mind suddenly went right back into its sleepy, dazed state. The thought was more nervewrecking than she had initially thought: in fact, her stomach was in a bit of turmoil. She stood, alongside the other two, and walked to the front of the room where the Professor proceeded to place a row of three small spheres, red on their top and white for the bottom, onto a desk.
"Now pay attention, here, at least," the Professor said. He pulled up a slideshow, this time pretty obviously of his own creation because of its basic properties. An image of a small quadrupedal green Pokemon with blueish-green spots all over its body and a bulb on its back appeared. "The Pokemon on the far-left is a unique type of Pokemon: a dual-type, holding two different classifications. In this case, under Grass and under Poison. Bulbasaur grows fast, and in the end, most trainers are satisfied with it's offensive and status-inducing capabilities."
The next slide featured a simple turtle, its tail curled, brown shell on its back and with a tiny, blue head sticking out, bipedal instead of quadrupedal. "Next, in the middle, is the monotype Squirtle, classified under Water. Squirtle is one of the weakest Pokemon at the start, but with proper care, it can turn into a powerhouse. Most trainers who pick it pick it for the defensive capabilities rather than offensive."
Finally, the third slide featured an orange, bipedal lizard with a thick tail, a tiny flame burning on the end. It had wide eyes, and Emma thought it to be rather cute. "Finally, we have the most common pick of the three. Charmander starts off as the Pokemon with the most power, and ends up as an offensive, flamethrower-spewing powerhouse- at the risk of being a glass cannon, or a powerful but frail beast. It takes skill to raise a Charmander successfully, but most people think it worth it in the end."
The professor exited out of the slideshow, then turned off the monitor. He nodded slowly, and examined the three young children. A smile crossed his lips. "Well, then- who's first?"
