Tyler Kimball - Lessgently
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New Beginnings - Chapter 65
🕑 Added 2024-12-05 02:21:49 +0000 UTCEthan sat at his table while the Healing Machine worked its magic. His eyes never left the tiny screen that displayed the current condition of his two pokemon. Everything was fine, according to the readings, but the little bit of worry never faded.
“You did well.” Cynthia stated from behind him as she pulled up a chair. He’d heard her enter with Elm earlier, but ignored them for the moment. “It's clear to me that Pachirisu and Chatot like battling. I think with some practice, you wouldn’t let them down.”
“They loved it.” Ethan said, voice conflicted. “Do you ever stop worrying? You know, about their injuries?”
He felt Cynthia place a hand on his shoulder. “Eventually. When I was young, I did the same thing you’re doing now. I waited at the pokemon center for an hour straight, pacing a hole into the floor.” She gave him a gentle squeeze. “Pokemon are tough. They aren’t like you and me. I am telling you right now, there was no danger to their lives… Real life and death battles are vicious and usually one sided. I pray you never have to experience one.”
Ethan was silent for a moment, taking in the information. “I was surprised there weren't any bruises—You know, blood and stuff.”
The voice of Elm answered his unasked question. “It’s because of the energy pokemon use for their moves—Type Energy. When pokemon grow, their internal reservoir of energy also increases. This energy acts as a buffer. It can be actively used for moves, but it is always passively used for their defence.”
Cynthia continued for the professor, saying what he didn’t want to say. “When your pokemon faint, and then take damage… that’s when you will see injuries. The stronger the pokemon, the more powerful their moves and the more hits they can take. More energy equals a stronger pokemon. Of course, skill, strategy, and proper health can make up the difference. If that wasn’t the case, there wouldn’t be trainers at all.”
Ethan twisted to face them, trusting the machine to do its work. “So, they aren’t physically hurt? Like, at all?”
Elm nodded with a reassuring smile. “They’re fine, Ethan. Although, there are rare circumstances in which a pokemon can be injured or even killed outside of fainting; such as fighting a pokemon that simply overpowers their passive energy defences, natural causes like illness, or simple accidents. If a pokemon falls off a cliff or is caught in a collapsed mine, then they will be hurt. Some Status effects can also be deadly. Poison, for example.”
Elm looked at Cynthia with a questioning gaze as he fidgeted with his glasses. “Cynthia, may I have a word in private?”
“Of course.” Cynthia followed the professor into the kitchen, and Ethan heard the door to his patio open and close, leaving him alone.
He still had so much to learn about the world. Being cut off from others was really showing him his lack of knowledge. He could look up the information online, but if he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be looking for, then that doesn’t really work.
Elm was pretty suspicious of him now. Which, to be honest, was warranted. Ever since their little walk around the ranch and introduction to his pokemon, Elm had been a little off in their interactions. Asking questions everyone else probably already knows was probably a red flag, and these questions he just asked about pokemon damage might have been the final straw. He'd eat his shoe if they weren’t outside and talking about him.
A gentle poke to his side knocked him out of his thoughts. Looking over, Ethan saw Smeargle giving him a comforting smile. Ralts was with him as well, sitting on top of his beret’d head, dangling her tiny feet over the rim.
“I can feel your worry and concern from the guest room. It’s too much.” Ralts telepathically spoke, a hint of condescension in her tone. She pointed to the Healing Machine. “They will be fine. Do you think they never got into battles before they met you? That they’ve never experienced this before? Even I have battled foes!”
She got heated towards the end, as she jumped across the small gap between him and Smeargle to land on his left shoulder. With a small glare, she stared into his eyes. After Ethan looked away, downtrodden, she frowned and smacked her cheeks. When she spoke again, her mental voice was quiet. “Ah, my dear and gentle companion, I try to forget how your kindness shines like a gilded star amidst the harsh shadows of this world. Yet, I fear that very brilliance leaves you unguarded, vulnerable to the cold winds of reality."
She patted his head as she leaned in closer, her voice soft yet resolute, as though imparting wisdom beyond her years. "Yours is a heart too tender, a soul too pure, for the jagged edges of this realm. You give without measure, trust without hesitation, and see the best in all. Such virtues, noble as they are, may be a heavy crown to bear in a world that oft forgets its own harmony.”
“Ralts, do you know where I am from?” He asked, eyes swiveling back to the Healing Machine.
“No.”
“Well, I am not even from this world.” He said, gesturing around himself. “Last year, I just appeared here—And I mean here. In this small clearing in the smack dab of nowhere. There were no pokemon where I was from. I have no friends or family here for me, I only have you pokemon. I lost everyone once, I am scared to lose them again.”
Ethan heard a tiny thump, and he looked over to find Smeargle gaping at him. The poor painter's tail no longer clenched firmly in his hands, but flopped listlessly on the floor. Ethan shrugged. “If I battle, I am afraid I’ll lose you guys during it. If I don’t battle, I am afraid that you’ll leave me to find someone who will battle with you.”
Ethan reached up and grabbed Ralts, taking her from his shoulder and setting her in his lap. “You’re not my pokemon, and I know that not everyone would like to go out to battle, but some of you guys do. So, I’m in a rough spot.” He ran a finger gently over Ralt’s head, over her horn, causing her to fidget. “I just need time. I need to figure out what I want, what my pokemon want, and how to achieve each of our goals.”
Ethan then flicked her in the back of the head, causing her to gasp an audible, “Ral!”
He grinned when she turned to glare at him. “That’s for being mean to me. You punk.”
As was foretold, Ralts turned and started to wail at his stomach with feeble kicks and punches while growling. Smeargle chuckled, amused at the swift turn of events and plucked the little psychic off of him by the scruff of her toga-esque neck.
“Thanks, Smeargle” He flashed the painter a grin. “If you can do me a favor, can you go around and ask all the pokemon if they’d be interested in training or battling? We won’t be going for the gym badges like your old trainer did, but we could train, learn moves, and battle the occasional trainer working their way through the forest. Who knows, maybe we can enter a little tournament.” He pointed off to the quest room. “Paint or write me a list of names. We can talk about other things they may want to try as well. I think there’s competitions for contests? Singing, painting, dancing… that sort of thing?”
Smeargle nodded, stuck out his tongue in a happy smile, then scampered off with Ralts flailing in his grip towards the guest room to collect his supplies.
A minute later, Ethan waved to Smeargle as he carried some of his painting supplies outside, with a pouting, criss-crossed armed Ralts thrown under his arm. Then, the Healing Machine made a very familiar sound.
“Ding, ding, ding, Du-Ding!” Like a blast from the past, the ever familiar pokemon healing sound from his childhood signified the end to Chatot’s and Pachirisu’s healing. With a gentle click, the see-through plastic shielding unlatched from the top of the machine, allowing Ethan to grab their pokeballs.
Instead of releasing them then and there, he decided to ask Elm and Cynthia if it was wise. For all he knew, they could still be weakened and need rest. He escaped out of his house through his kitchen patio door, finding Cynthia and Elm talking to one another in subdued tones. They both paused their conversation, turning towards him at his entrance.
He raised a hand, showcasing the two pokeballs. “Came to ask if it was wise to let them out, or let them rest.”
They both smiled, and Elm answered him. “Let them rest for now. No battling or training for at least a day. That’s the standard procedure.”
“Good thing I asked then, because I don’t know the standard procedure.” Ethan replied with a casual nod as he clipped the balls onto his vest.
“Ethan…” Cynthia warned with a frown of displeasure, sensing the way the conversation was going.
“So, anyway… Professor, I’m sure you’ve realized I am a little weird—You know, being twenty-nine and not having some pretty basic information and all that.” Elm gestured for him to continue. “I’m not from anywhere in the Pokemon League. I’m from somewhere else where we don’t have pokemon, but have records and information about them in droves. I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t ask about my origins, but you’re free to ask about pokemon related stuff.” Ethan watched as Elm tilted his head in confusion, but the shining glint of research shined thoroughly in his eyes.
“I dare say, that definitely connected some dots. Some things just weren’t adding up, and not everyone gets the Champion to visit their humble abode to apologize.” Elm laughed as his phone suddenly rang. He dug into his lab coat, withdrawing his phone, then grew excited. “Perhaps another time. Chase is witnessing Gloom care for the saplings! I don’t want to miss it!”
Before he or Cynthia could respond, he was sprinting down the stairs, coat fluttering in the wind, and off into the meadow for his research.
“That man doesn’t change.” Cynthia sighed with a fond smile before turning her gaze to Ethan. Her smile faded, replaced with the confident visage of the region's champion. “I should get going as well, but I need to know your answer regarding Jessie and James. I’m not speaking as Cynthia, I am speaking as Champion. We have interests in them, and your ranch is out of the way, watched, and on a priority list. If they try to run, which I don’t think they will, they will be apprehended quickly. If they start trouble, well, I suppose what you asked for is going to come in handy.”
Ethan sighed and looked her dead in the eyes. “Why me?”
“You know them. Maybe not exactly, but you know them. The league has a vested interest in you and them, and I’m not going to lie to you and say that we don’t have eyes checking in on you once in a while.”
She looked slightly ashamed to admit that, but it didn’t really hurt his feelings. If some random dude showed up, went to the police, told them about the future and it was right? Well, he’d be looking after that person too. Cynthia gestured around his ranch. “Looker facilitated the building of this place, helped you get some of your basic needs, and paid for it. From what I know, if you don’t use any electricity for three days in a row, an alert is sent as an alarm. You have a League Porygon in your laptop, and Ranger Patrols have been scheduled along your offshoot path from Route 205.”
Ethan nodded along, sighing but understanding—
“Wait, there’s a Porygon in my laptop!?” Ethan nearly screamed in shock, his loud voice causing a gentle ripple of warning sounds from below the patio.
“Odd…”
“Oddish…”
“Oddddddd.”
“Sorry.” Ethan said with a wince, pacifying the sleeping Oddish.
“You do. It makes sure nobody sends cyber attacks or tries to track your location.” Cynthia nodded, then gestured inside. Ethan led the way, coming back to his table and grabbing his laptop. He flipped it open and spoke to it, looking like a madman. “Porygon? Are you there?”
For a few seconds, nothing happened, and Ethan thought that maybe this was a cruel joke. Then, Cynthia said, “Come out for a moment.”
Slowly, a small, sharp, blue, angular beak flowed out of his screen, very reminiscent of what Rotom had done previously. Following the blue, came pink, as the entire head of a Porygon came out and looked around. “Porygon?”
Its voice sounded like a Speak & Spell, very robotic and unique. Ethan instantly felt bad. “Thanks for the protection. Do you, uh, eat berries?”
“Ethan, you can’t feed berries to every pokemon you meet,” Cynthia chastised with a scoff. “Porygon can’t eat. They’re living data.”
“Oh.” Ethan, with a second to think, could see how not having a proper mouth would make eating an issue. “Well, hello. You can come out whenever you want and hang out, I guess…” Ethan slammed the table and jerked up in his seat, causing his chair to skid across the floor. “Oh! Can you go into my old phone and bring over all my data to put it on this laptop?!”
The Porygon looked to Cynthia and only after seeing her nod of confirmation, nodded in return. Porygon flew out of his computer and into his old Earth phone sitting a few feet away. Its body shrunk down to a much smaller size in the blink of an eye, the move Minimize if Ethan had to guess, then sunk into his phone with ease. A second later, it zoomed back out and back into the laptop.
With a flash of a download bar, which completed in less than a second, Ethan had a new music app on his desktop, a photo album, and a folder filled with other bits and bobs of miscellaneous information.
“Thank you Porygon! You have no clue how much this meant.” Ethan clicked on the photo icon, and saw all of his old pictures appear. Cringe selfies, random pictures of food, screenshots of memes, photos of friends and family… He had them all.
Ethan clicked on the photo he took at the bottom of the Statue of Liberty, and Cynthia peered over his shoulder to look as well. Her blonde hair trailing down his shoulder. The picture was depicting the skyline of New York City. “Oh? That is a very unique looking city.”
Ethan ignored her, and looked through the rest of his photos.
After thirty minutes, Cynthia stood and sighed. “It’s time for me to go. Do you have your answer?”
Ethan frowned, remembering the prior conversation. “As long as you come here with them when they arrive to make sure no trouble happens, you get me a firearm for protection, and take care of building what is needed for them to stay… Sure.”
Cynthia began to smile, but Ethan spoke with haste. “BUT!” Ethan looked her dead in the eyes. “But, If I say it’s time for them to leave, they’re gone. No ifs, ands, or buts—GONE! Deal?”
Cynthia extended a hand, grasping his firmly. “Deal.”
Comments
PlasmaticPi
Can't wait to see what happens when Brock and the others show up and find Team Rocket there.
Tyler Kimball
I choose to accept that Porygon as the data pokemon can just... do what he wants. If that wasn't the case, then I would be writing paragraphs of 'filler' coming up with reasoning for why/how it worked when, at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter for the story as a whole. :P
Tsume Eiranis
Thank you for the chapter So we have Jessie and James... Now we need Nurse Joy and the small village can start n.n
Elo2Coon
Vaporeon creppy pasta…
Elo2Coon
Heavy is the crown…
Lucida
Now you've raised an important question. Does the pokemon universe use the same file formats as ours? (pngs, mp4s etc) Are their systems programmed exactly the same? I guess porygon could have converted the files in the process too, which feels like a better explanation.
IV08004
https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=homework%20folder
Tyler Kimball
Homwork photo? I don't get that reference.
SpaceGoddess76
It would be cool if his phone had pics of Pokémon, &/or like a Pokemon Pokédex as a pdf file, &/or other Pokemon stuff.
Tanner
Prepare for trouble!
IV08004
I am surprised his phone had no “homework photo” that she didn’t accidentally see
