◄ Post #003 ►
Route 22 | 2:59 pm
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-------There was a great bursting sound as the capsule snapped apart. The Pidove feverishly shook the broken halves off of itself as it reappeared in a great flash of light before, just as suddenly, taking to the sky in but a few messy beats of its wings.
-------"Damn…"
-------The boy disgruntledly beheld the broken Pokeball, staring down darkly into the grass, though he personally knew it to be juvenile to expect any other outcome. That Pokeball he'd found seconds ago. It was old, chipped, incautiously tossed in some nonspecific patch of grass. But it was blue with the signature red stripes of a Great Ball, something far more valuable than an everyday, non-expensive Pokeball, and the boy thought, just maybe, he'd strike a jackpot for once. Find Squirtle a partner for no cost at all. But that was a pipe dream, the winged symbol of reality unsparingly reminded. That was that. Thus, Reagan gathered up his duffel bag and, with a single twitching Pokeball at his belt, he ambled off down Route 22.
-------The single, paved pathway from the gates to the Indigo League was very straightforward. Truly, so was every road in this side of Kanto. The linearity was for convenience's sake, to ease in newcomers to Pokemon Training, though Reagan did not gather this and was instead irked by all the simplicity of everything. Reagan Pate was a restive boy of eleven years who had taken his Squirtle with an anticipation of glamour that had yet to be fulfilled. The Training Dream, for him, had started five days prior and, from Pewter to Viridian where he forced to relocate, it had been endlessly beaten and butchered by dreadful monotony. A little boy's life was dry with Pokemon and it was dry without…
-------Halfway down the road, his period of pessimism was interrupted by the faint sound of music. He ignored it for a while, until the wind blew, seemingly carrying the rhythmical resonance along with it. Those notes were familiar, he realized. Reagan stopped so he could follow them.
-------A C, a G, an F, then a C… It was standard chord progression, but that synth sound was signature, and so were the singers. Why, it was none other than "Sing and Follow Me" by Cleffa Rae J. and Noctowl Town, blasting freely from the speakers of another young Trainer's Pokedex. Reagan could see the top of his head, brown hairs splayed due to the whipping wind, off in the distance. The boy was knee-deep in a decline of tall grass off the main road, apparently with the intent of Training, but he seemed, at the moment, distracted by the music as he bounced around in the blades with his two Pokemon. A Hoppip flitted around him, spouting endless, bubbly laughter as Cleffa Rae cooed, "Follow me, fol-low me-e…" A boisterous Mankey also leapt up and down to the music, rapturously kicking up grass with its flailing arms and legs in some crazed version of dancing.
-------If the trio's mission was to train, they were hardly succeeding, as Mankey more or less was driving the wildlife away; a hearty kick sent a cluster of bewildered Rattata scurrying for their lives. The song hits its climax and the boy jumped up out of the depression of the ground with his Hoppip. His fingers flew over the strings of a fabricated guitar as he matched the pace of a vibrant synth solo. This his Hoppip thoroughly enjoyed as she squealed louder than before, encouragingly bounding up and down, before a another breeze came and sent her spinning through the air before she could remember to brace herself. The boy was dumbfounded, horrified, and the Pokedex in his pocket that shone chrome-red in the afternoon sun nearly fell out entirely as he bolted to retrieve his partner.
-------Reagan was somewhat dumbfounded himself as the south-blowing wind sent Hoppip spinning uncontrollably in his direction. He saw the brown-haired boy in his tan jacket and blue jeans charging towards him, the pink Pokemon that preceded him--practically a pink blur--and then she struck him… like a cloud. Like a pillow stuffed with only one feather. Nevertheless, she was in Reagan's arms now and gave a grateful chirp at being caught.
-------"Lavender!" The other Trainer staggered over just as Reagan fully concluded what was happening. He gasped, mainly with relief, as he regarded how his Pokemon had landed safely, slouching forward with short-lived relief before Reagan spoke up.
-------"This your Hoppip?"
-------Obviously. The boy fervently nodded yes.
-------"And that's your Pokedex?"
-------The other Trainer's brow furrowed. He looked down at his jeans to see his 'dex tilting precariously from his front pocket and quickly drew it out. It was fortunate that it hadn't dropped out during his sprint.
-------"'Arthur's Playlist 1' has ended. Would you like to replay this playlist?" the Pokedex asked.
-------"Sure, okay."
-------Just like that, the device began to emit a bouncy, optimistic reggae-pop tune: "Give A Helping Hand." Reagan thought it saccharine and visibly cringed at the first few notes. Though the sound also brought the recollection of a question.
-------"It can play music?"
-------Arthur looked up, eyeing him curiously. "Yeah, this… uh… Johto model can."
-------"...there are different kinds?"
-------The brown-haired boy seemed especially baffled now. "Yeah…? I mean, there has to be, 'cause they give one to every Trainer in every region."
-------Reagan met the bewilderment with an incredulous look. "Every region of Kanto?"
-------Art ogled.
-------"'Cause I don't have one. And I just live in Pewter. Where are you from?"
-------"You don't-- Um… I'm from Pallet Town."
-------"Oh." Reagan sniffed. He inwardly felt dumb for inquiring. A kid around his age in a nice coat with a Pokedex right from the case could not have been from anywhere else but a humble, tranquil place settled by rich people: the town of Pallet. "I guess your mom and dad make a lot of money, huh?"
-------In the boy's wide brown eyes swam a turbid bout of emotions as he sought to definitely realize all the implications Reagan was throwing out at him. To the catechizing boy with the Pokeball at his hip, he answered softly: "No, we really don't… And I don't have a mom…"
-------"Then where'd you get your Pokedex?" Reagan responded with further incredulity and an edge, now, to his tone.
-------"P-Professor Oak… It was a big investment…" Arthur's eyes turned away to look elsewhere as he muttered the additional line. His interrogator acknowledged the sign of bashfulness; he too turned away. There was a minutes worth of silence, aside from the blatting reggae song. When it ended, Reagan held out his arms, moreover the Hoppip.
-------"You got the Johto Pokemon from Professor Oak too?"
-------"Uh… she blew in. Over the mountains. She was separated and…" Arthur's voice trailed off again with modesty. "...I wanted to take care of her."
-------Reagan blinked--"Okay"--before letting Lavender drift up from his arms and over towards her Trainer whose head she settled on jovially. The boy reached down, plucking the Pokeball from his belt. "I got Squirtle from a Trainer's Academy in Pewter City."
-------"That's cool," Art answered absentmindedly as he smiled up as his little convivial partner.
-------"Not really." Reagan turned sour to the fellow Trainer's surprise. "I mean, Squirtle's cool and all, but school was really boring since they just told us the same stuff about 'Potions' and 'status conditions' over and over again. I didn't feel like I was learning anything sometimes 'cause I was just sitting around bored. It might be different if you, like, actually paid for decent lessons that taught you good stuff all the way in Saffron or Celadon but… I dunno."
-------The tirade brought another wordless period of discomfort upon the two boys as they sat wallowing in the candidly-spoken truth. Arthur's fathers hadn't the money for legitimate scholaring in the big Kanto cities so Viridian had sufficed, suitably they assumed, but dissatisfaction still lingered with the boy. Evidently, it lingered with this other Trainer as well who must have had to settle with the free, League-funded teachings provided mainly in Pewter. Regardless on whether the subject resounded with them both or not, the frankness silenced them both. Another song came and went.
-------Reagan, finally, spoke again, in a language greatly familiar to every Trainer that made all boundaries to traditional conversation obsolete: "You wanna battle?"
-------Squirtle's Pokeball was in-hand and Arthur himself had a Pokemon already released; it seemed a perfectly convenient time and it wasn't as if the moderate-natured boy would be inclined to disagree. However, at the moment of the inquiry and the start-up of another high-energy song, Art's other Pokemon came leaping out of the grass, having recognized after quite some time that he'd been left alone amongst the wilds. Mankey bolted over the grass, down the path, feet flying beneath him. He darted circles around Arthur when he reached him, sparking laughter from his Trainer when he did so, before barrelling off to the side of the road--towards a rocky structure--and, as if to show off the fruits of labor, struck the wall of the rock formation with a flattened hand. Miraculously, where he'd stricken was left perfectly fractured.
-------Immediately, Arthur forgot all sense of inhibition. "Woah! Woah, woah, woah! Brutus, what was that? Did you just learn how to do that? Oh my Gyarados! Oh my Whiscash, that's awesome!" He sprung up, as did Lavender the Hoppip who gave a little sky-high dance.
-------Reagan just watched palely as Brutus returned the triumph, grunting and snorting before turning to Karate Chop that solid mound of rock again and again. He imagined, once, as debris flew from the points of impact, that they were bits of shell, that the targeted area was the still-developing back of his Squirtle. It was a very brief thought as Reagan tensed up immediately after before proclaiming, "Y'know, n-nevermind. I have to go back to Viridian."
-------He threw his bag over one shoulder and began to promptly do just that. Arthur turned to call after him, "Okay! I was thinking I could find someone to battle at the gates anyway!"
-------"Yeah, there's a whole lot of Trainers there. Some tourists and stuff too; it's a big crowd."
-------"Good luck with the gym!" they added, just before Reagan was out of earshot.
-------"Okay."
