Counting Sheep - A Pokemon Trainer quest

Melati Meriwether makes her way towards you at an unhurried pace, visibly luxuriating in the sunshine she's soaking up, hood lowered on that slightly ridiculous outfit of hers (not that you'd tell her that). Your hometown of Violet City isn't the most southerly of the region's towns, but it's a nice early May day, and the breeze from the coast coming up from Route 32 is just what's needed to make sure the sun doesn't cook you too hard.

Visibly, your… mentor ? Is that an actual proper term ? Should you call her teacher ? Traveling companion ? Wait, maybe that sounds a little presumptuous ? Anyhow, the very famous and talented person who has somehow agreed to chaperone your beginnings seems to share your opinion, eyes half-closed and head tilted up towards the sky as if to maximise her exposure to the sun.

Well, perhaps you shouldn't word it that way in your head. It burns enough already, having waited until it felt as though you were older than anyone who's ever set out to follow the same path as you — the idea that you might need a chaperone… definitely rankles a bit.
Okay, more than a bit.

Even if the fact you already feel a little lost makes it undeniably true. You know all the things you could be doing, the decisions you could be taking, or the plans you could be making. But how are you ever supposed to choose ? How do you know which one is the correct decision ? The relief you felt at sighting Melati tells you all you need to know about just how ready you are — or aren't in this case.

You wait as patiently as you can for the couple of minutes until she reaches you, before shuffling off of your fencepost, and being seized by momentary awkwardness.

Seeing her up close, you're struck again by just how distinct she is. Even with the hood down, the fact that she's wearing a strange flowing purple robe at all is plenty odd, without mentioning the fact that it's covered in… what you could've sworn were cheap baubles, but are now pretty sure is actual gold jewellery. Arceus above, how much money is she wearing ?

Anyhow, it would probably be a bit creepier if… Well, you feel awful thinking about it that way, but if the woman wearing it wasn't so striking. You don't even mean that in any kind of lecherous way, she just objectively stands out in a crowd : the matching blue eyes and hair (you have no idea how long it is, considering it disappears into her robe, but it looks long), the sharp angular features of her face, including cheekbones you could cut yourself on, the fact she easily clears six feet or the way that she carries herself with absolute purpose…

Now that you think about it, you were too busy not thinking straight last time you saw her, but up close she's actually quite intimidating.

Everything you know about this woman was either from overhearing news reports or from the internet searches you made in preparation for this. But it's only now that you're standing there in front of her that you realise you know absolutely nothing about her and have absolutely nothing to say.

Thankfully, she doesn't seem to share your hesitation.

"You're here," she announces a little flatly, giving you a quick once-over as though to make sure you actually are.

What are you supposed to respond to that ?

"Ah, yes ?…"

"Hm," she grunts absently. "Let's get going. Can introduce each other better once we're out of sight and away from people."

Shooting a quick glance behind her, you indeed do notice that about half of the people walking around have turned around to gawk at her, and unless you're mistaken… Yep, one of them has a proper camera, so likely a paparazzi of some kind. You wouldn't have thought that was too common, especially in a quiet town like Violet ? Then again, the Snake Charmer's appeal is unfortunately not confined to her pokemon, and you imagine there's a somewhat larger fanbase for her than for the average trainer of her fame level.

Thankfully (and somewhat worryingly), the paparazzi suddenly sinks neck deep into the road, camera and all, before he can snap the shot. Considering the kind of rumourmongering that you would have dealt with, as your face would have been plenty visible in that shot, you don't feel as bad about it as you could.

While you observed what was happening, Melati didn't wait on you — she's already off, and you scramble a little to catch up. Her eyes are back to being half-closed and the look on her face is best described as quiet bliss, so you don't really have the heart to interrupt her.

About twenty minutes later, as you feel all the questions within you reach boiling point, she suddenly turns left on the otherwise perfectly straight road. You're confused, but only until the moment you see what she's heading for : hidden behind some overgrown ferns on the side of the well-traveled road, a worn dirt trail leads into the small forest there. Melati takes it without hesitation, though she makes a small moue of displeasure when the canopy's shade finally stops her from attempting photosynthesis.

You scramble behind her, wondering what this is about until you're just far enough in that you can't see the road you left anymore. At that point, she suddenly jerks her right arm to the side and you scramble to a halt, thinking she's giving you the universal gesture for stopping.

As it turns out, it wasn't for your benefit — a blur suddenly shoots out of the ground, and faster than you can make out its form, coils around Melati's outstretched arm and slithers onto her body. Presumably, at least — it's mostly hidden by that strange cloak thing. Finally, a head pokes out from her shoulder and you can make out what the creature is.

It's a Sandaconda, though it takes you a few instants to put a name into it. Not exactly a local staple. Considering just who it's coiling around, you feel fairly safe in assuming it's friendly — but how is it coiling around her ? These things are what, four metres long on average ? Even beyond how it fits, how is she even carrying it without breaking a sweat ?

These questions go unanswered as Melati's left arm (her only limb left free) goes to scratch the snake pokemon under its chin, letting it emit what you're going to assume is a pleasurable hiss. It just sounds like a hiss to you, but Melati is smiling indulgently now, so you'll just trust her on that.

As a side note : you laughed a lot upon reading that fun fact about people calling the police whenever they found her cuddling her pokemon, but you have a lot more sympathy for them now. It definitely looks very worrying from the outside.

"Good girl," she coos. "No one followed ?"

Another hiss, another answer you have absolutely no clue how to interpret — good thing it wasn't directed at you. You think that was a shake of its head, but you wouldn't bet your life on it. Unlike your new mentor, who seems content with the answer.

"Good. Go back for now Yasigi, I still need to walk."

With another happy (?) hiss, the Ground-type leans into her hand one last time, gives her cheek a happy nuzzle and then contorts and coils itself to put its head level with her waist, where it boops a pokeball with its snout and disappears inside it with a flash of red light.

"We're alone now, so we can talk," she explained laconically, finally turning towards him. "Reporters are annoying. Fans mean well, but they're even more annoying."

And then she sets off again.

"Is that why… Yasigi ? Buried that man with the camera ?" you ask, catching up.

She makes a wordless hum of agreement in answer, and you are starting to get the feeling she's just very economical with her words in general.

"Yasigi is my newest and least known party member. No one watches out for her, and she likes being underground."

So the Sandaconda has standing orders to watch out for people following her trainer and just… sink them if they look like they might be a bother. That sounds… a little dangerous and irresponsible would be your first reaction, but having actually seen it done, it was precise and surgical enough that even not knowing what was going on you didn't feel a twinge of panic at the sight, so she clearly knows what she's doing.

It's also suddenly rather obvious that for all her bluntness in conversation, Melati is clearly more tricky than you'd expected, or that her reputation suggests.

Any such thoughts are immediately thrown out the window, however, at another utterance from your companion.

"Finally," she says, gazing back behind you to where the road was well and truly out of sight.

And with these words, her arms dart back inside the strange cloak-thing (you really need a better word for it) and with a strange wiggle and clack the garish purple thing just falls off and ends up folded on her arm, somehow.

You don't have the time to appreciate the feat of engineering and dexterity, however, because you're too busy being mortified.

Thankfully, she is actually wearing something under that, even if with the amount of skin she was showing you had doubted for a dreadfully long and terrible, terrible moment that this was the case. That said, it's not exactly much. She was basically in athletics wear, the competition kind — a short halter top and some bloomers.

Huh, her hair is actually beyond waist-length. That can't be practical.

It's a good thing you're not a teenager anymore, because that means you can quickly quash your mortification in favour of embarrassment of another kind.

You think back to the last time you looked in a mirror, then look back at her again. Yes, she's more ripped than you've ever been, and then some. Not in a particularly buff way — in fact, she's whipcord thin — but rather in a clearly dense way. Like someone took a gymnast, or a dancer and just… stretched them out vertically. Actually, now that you have a closer look, her physique reminds you of a long or triple jumper. Lord Ho-Oh almighty, you're not sure you've ever met someone more in shape than her and you've had some drinks with your university's swim team.

Unfortunately, that closer look earns you a raised eyebrow from the current object of your attention, who is now done folding her cloak up and has stuffed it back in its bag. A sort of half-belt that held her pokeballs and had been attached to her robe is now secured to her shorts.

"I'm sorry," you manage to get out without sounding too much like you're tripping over yourself, "I wasn't staring ! It's just that… Well, I was, but that's because I didn't expect you to be so… muscled ?"

Alright, not your best impression, but you think that's mostly salvaged ? You were honest, and even if you stumbled at the end, you think you've managed to convey that was more because you were trying to find an appropriate word. Melati gazes at you inscrutably for a few excruciating seconds, before nodding.

"Hmm. Good. Shouldn't have any problem learning lesson number one, then," she tells you with a sagely nod before she begins walking again.

This time, you're expecting the abrupt change of pace, so you only trot awkwardly as opposed to run to catch up with her.

"Lesson number one ?"

"Trainer etiquette. We can be gone for months," she began in what you were going to call her usual monotone. "You should always wash your clothes when you have the opportunity, but you don't always have the chance. And we try and travel light. Exercise clothes are easier to sweat in, easier to wash and easier to train in, take up less pack space and weigh less. If you go a few days without finding a stream to wash your clothes in, good swimwear works too. Plenty of trainers wear that sort of stuff. Even if most don't go quite as far as me. But we all often show skin and shapes and curves. It's not an invitation to be a creep."

Huh, you'd never thought of it but that… actually makes a lot of sense. If you ignore the fact that hiking gear and wear exists, and that surely being half-naked at the mercy of the elements isn't ideal ?

Melati must have read your confusion, because she actually elaborates for once.

"Don't worry about it for now. You'll get it when you've toughened up. Comes with training," she explains (for a given definition of the word) before looking at you, tilting her head at a strange angle which remind you of something you can't quite put your finger on. "Works the other way too. If people staring bothers you, you're allowed to remind them they're rude."

Thinking back to your earlier comparison of your respective fitness levels… You're flattered, but you don't think that's going to be as much of a problem for you as it might be for her.

"Isn't that obvious ?"

"Some people don't seem to understand," she shrugs. "Sorry for springing it on you. Easier to check now if it was going to be a problem. Didn't get that vibe from you, but better to be sure."

Yeah, looking back on it… Considering how you approached her and what she seemingly gets to deal with, it's not surprising she'd make sure you didn't just ask her with some kind of lecherous delusion in mind.

"We spend too much time in the wild to dance around that sort of thing when we're actually with people," she continues, "and for most of us our pokemon's more straightforward attitudes to this stuff rubs off. Be upfront if you want to start something, back off and move on if they say no. Works for violence and sex both."

You choke on your breath at the unexpectedly frank statement.

"I… guess I can see how that'd come around. But can I ask… why lead with that ?"

She shrugs again. She does that a lot, it seems.

"Not really worth getting into the wilderness stuff until we start setting up camp. Actual training we can get into when we've met each other's team. Leaves Trainer etiquette, and since I was on the subject anyway, might as well be thorough."

Yeah, from a logical point of view, you can see how that might make sense. Doesn't mean you'd have personally ever figured it for a good conversation subject with someone you don't actually know.

So rather than pursue this particular line of conversation with someone whose current state of dress would have half of Johto's gossip rags trying to fit a full body shot on the front page, you're going to move on.

"Well, since we're on Trainer etiquette, anything else I should know ?"

"Hmm… Tips and small favours are always free for other Trainers."

She frowns.

"Proper Trainers, that is. The rest can put in some actual effort. We stick together, so don't be scared to ask for help, and try and give it when asked. Just don't abuse other people's generosity, and don't let them take advantage of yours. There's few enough of us that being on at least decent terms between us all makes life easier. Easier to maintain friendships and other relationships between us, too. Regulars don't really understand why you might need to drop everything for an urgent three-month trip to Unova that absolutely can't be delayed at a moment's notice."

While her voice was still as flat as ever, that was… too accurate to just be a random example. You wonder for a second whether her wisdom is just her projecting her issues at you, but… it makes sense.

"Less of a problem if you become a Leader. Stuck in one place. But for the rest of us, we make an effort to be on good terms, because often we're the only ones who keep up with each other. What else ?"

You think back to how much you struggled to connect to other people growing up, and even at university. How while a lot of your peers seemed to think your dream of becoming a Trainer was 'cool', they never seemed to actually understand what it meant, what it implied. They'd mention something about worrying about money, about the problems with living in the wilderness, about dangerous wild pokemon, all these and more, dozens of little things you'd accepted would be part and parcel of the lifestyle as soon as you were old enough to understand what they meant.

Yeah, you can see what she means now.

She hums a bit, looking for something to add.

"Ah. Know the difference between Trainers and regulars ?"

"I think I have that one down," you smile, finally not feeling too out of your depth at this.

"Probably not," she instantly dashes your optimism, though she follows it up with that strange head tilt again. "Sorry. I'm sure you do. But it's not the difference we make."

"What do you mean ?"

"There's three kinds of trainers," she explains. "That's Trainers like me, capital T. Regulars. And people like you. In-betweeners, or whatever you call them."

"What do you mean, people like me ?" you reply, feeling a little vexed at how casually dismissive she sounds.

"Ah. Sorry, that was rude. I think. If I didn't think you had the right drive, I wouldn't help. But you've just begun. Can't know for sure you'll stick with it."

You're beginning to realise that this sort of cold-blooded pragmatism is very much a Melati standard. It's not uncaring — she wouldn't have given you a chance if she truly couldn't care less — but she's not shy about admitting she's not going to get more invested than that until she's sure it won't be wasted effort.

So you swallow the angry protest that instinctively rose to your throat, and nod. It hurts to hear it said like that, because you've been waiting for so long to go already, it's been your obsession for so many years that any hint of disapproval feels like an attack on the core of your being.

But it's also good to remember you're barely on your first step.

"So, like the difference between Named Trainers and the rest ?"

She considers that for a second.

"Hmm, yes but no. It's not a bad way to see it, but Named and not are about strength and brand. It's an outsider thing. Trainer and in-betweeners is about… commitment ? Drive ? Something like that. Any Named Trainer is going to be serious enough that they're one of us. But that's for those who are already advanced. You can have the right commitment, the right desire but not have gotten there yet.

"A few months ago, helped out a new-ish guy. About half a year into his travels. Turtle trainer, wanted to be like the Shell Sage of Galar. Kieran something ? Had just caught a Shuckle and wanted advice on training pokemon with more cowardly streaks. He only had a Wartortle and a Grotle on top of that. Won't be a named Trainer for at least another year. Too weak. But had the right attitude and the determination. He'll get there, so he's one of us."

Ah… you hadn't actually thought of it like that. For most people, there was a significant gap between the moment they'd started training and the moment where they'd gotten good enough to earn their keep from it. Years, sometimes. It made sense that you couldn't be 'on probation' to other Trainers, so to speak, for that entire time.

A companionable (you think) silence falls over the two of you, as you carry on your way, deeper into the forest, which is getting denser around you. The terrain has actually begun to slope gently, and you think you can hear a stream down ahead. Or a small river ? Now that you're paying attention to it, the sound of rushing water is a bit strong for a stream.

"Why the surprise ?" Melati's voice startles you out of your thoughts.

"What do you mean ?"

"The muscles. Why the surprise ?" she inquires. For a moment, you're worried that she's offended, but she sounds genuinely curious. Nothing to do but answer.

"Well, it's not like I was surprised that you were in shape," you try and explain. "I know just about every Trainer has to be. It's more… You look like you're in better form than literally anyone I know, including university athletes. I wasn't expecting it to be by this much, I guess."

After your answer, she surprises you with a short… You hesitate to call it laugh, it's not quite expressive enough for that, but her face softens a bit and she inhales in a vaguely laugh-like way.

"I probably get more exercise than anyone but actual, professional dedicated athletes," she says. "Not even including traveling. And I cheat. But that's a lesson for later. When you've shown your mettle."

You want to know. You want to know so bad it burns, but you swallow down your curiosity, because that sounded pretty final. So instead you pick up on the other bit of information.

"More exercise ? Isn't it kind of hard to keep that up on the road ?"

"Depends on what you do. I swim and wrestle, it's not that hard to keep up."

Now you'll be the first to admit you're not an athletics expert — you weren't exactly on a sports scholarship or anything. In fact, you studied

[] Degree
- Write-in


But you think you know enough to be pretty certain that's not the correct build for someone who gets their exercise by swimming, wrestling and hiking.

Just as you're about to actually say that, however, Melati comes to a stop — and after getting out of your thoughts and actually looking ahead, you do too.

You've reached a clearing, where a small river runs. On either bank, a rough semi-circle has been cleared out, and while you're pretty sure there used to be a bridge between the two it was obviously washed away by something, if the half-rotted wooden posts facing each other on either side mean anything.

Around one of them, a Pidgeotto and a handful of Pidgey whose family time you've just interrupted puff themselves up irately, turning around to yell at the intruders… Before they take one look at Melati, visibly pale under their feathers and book it like she'd sent her Gyarados after them.

Huh, it's one thing to hear that wild pokemon have a feel for how strong a trainer is, another to see it in practice. The poor things were completely spooked.

Ahead of you, Melati finds a spot to sit down close to the riverbank, patting the grass around her as though to ensure she had the comfiest seat. You move to join her, but she halts you with her hand before you realise that she's reaching for her pokeballs.

Ah, yes, she might need the space, you blankly think as you realise you're about to meet her team.

"Yasigi, Sandaconda," she announces, releasing the critter you'd already met.

Then she looks you straight in the eyes, as the Ground-type lovingly coils around her waist.

"Particularities ?"

Oh sweet lord Ho-Oh this is a test.

"Um, primary habitat in Galar and Unova, sand sac whose contents can be blasted through its nose, ridiculous grip strength, confidence often linked to how full their sand sac is ?"

She stares a bit longer, before nodding and breaking out into an actual smile.

Huh, she has dimples.

"Good," is all she says, however, before releasing another. "Yero, Seviper."

The giant viper is actually not quite as big as the Sandaconda, but the fact you can properly see its full length makes it somehow even more threatening. That, and the look it shoots you as it scurries around the grass. Maybe it's giving you a happy doggy grin, but it's a reptilian instrument of murder and all you see are the two giant fangs glistening with venom that it's pointing at you. And that's not even its deadliest natural weapon.

Melati looks expectantly at you, and you pick up on what you're supposed to do.

"Originally from Hoenn, and although they get around in a lot of regions they're considered rare pretty much everywhere. Known for its unexplained rivalry with Zangoose, their incredibly sharp and venomous tail — there's a tentative scientific consensus they invented the move Poison Tail — and the fact that their venom is a potent paralytic."

Another nod, another small smile.

And another ball opened.

"Nekeh, Arbok," she calls as another giant mass of scaled flesh, this one bright purple, uncoils on the grass.

Unlike the others, it doesn't slither about immediately upon release. No, it stills, darts its tongue in your direction and then unfolds itself upwards.

When it rises to what has to be at least two metres in height, it suddenly bears down towards you and hisses, hood dramatically flaring. You're not too proud to admit you're absolutely terrified, and that the paralysis that seized you was only partly because of the pokemon's capacities as opposed to sheer intimidation factor.

But you don't flinch.

You had an Arbok, once, for a given definition of the term — it was part of a rental team you drew for a inter-training school tournament. It was a domesticated one, one that had gone straight from its breeder to a dedicated facility, and although you already knew it on an intellectual level you are happy to confirm that the experience didn't ready you in the slightest for coming face to face with the real thing.

And what a real thing it is — you know most Arbok aren't supposed to get that big. But this particular giant… It's pushing five metres, with a girth to match. If you were capable of moving you'd shake your head in awe, but you settle for watching it slither off, and you'd swear it looks smug from what it must think was a hilarious prank.

Maybe you're just projecting, but Melati's frown seems to agree.

"Nekeh, he's not for scaring," she scolds half-heartedly, before looking back at you.

"One of Kanto and Johto's apex hunters, especially in the grasslands, with a grip strength that can wreck steel, a capacity to paralyse opponents at a distance, poison spitting, venomous fangs… It even has ridiculous endurance," you offer unprompted, more familiar with one of Violet's local threats. It'd been decades since there'd been an incident, and the Routes were secure, but memory faded slow. "First time seeing a wildborn one up close, I can believe it."

"Nekeh is amazing," Melati… preened ? approvingly, and you had to wonder whether she saw the world through an entirely alien perspective from yours because while that wasn't wrong, you had the distinct impression you were coming at this from an entirely different angle.

She grabbed another ball, and you feel yourself tense a little.

All three snakes you've just seen were magnificent specimen of their species, but the next three… Well, you already knew what they were, so the surprise was a little ruined — but they were her three main performers, the three pokemon that had made her famous.

"Manasa, Serperior."

You weren't ready.

The average Serperior is actually smaller than an Arbok or a Sandaconda. Manasa is visibly bigger than Nekeh was, and he was already abnormal. It uncoils languidly, head making a round trip around its owner to receive a loving helping of scritches, before finally deigning to look down at you — and immediately the feeling of full-body paralysis you're becoming awfully familiar with seizes you.
You don't know how, but you can tell that it's judging you. And, from the disappointed look to its trainer, clearly finds you wanting. You're surprised by how vexed you are at the thought — the serpent is so majestic, glowing with the light of the sun rays it's visibly absorbing… Sure, it looks like an asshole, but so help you, you want that kind of awe-inspiring pokemon to approve of you.

Melati just sighs.

"No, Manasa, he's not for mating. He's a student. Can you please make sure nobody bothers us ?"

Okay, this time you're incapable of holding back a blush at the blunt statement. Wait, that's what it found you unworthy of ? Sure, that's not what you're here for, but now another separate part of your pride entirely is hurt on principle.

The majestic pokemon simply gives you another assessing look, eyes squinting, before giving what you're going to assume is the equivalent of a serpentine shrug and slinking off towards the edge of the clearing. In its wake, flowers spout, the grass grows greener and bramble bushes just emerge from the ground to give the two of you a private area within the clearing that no one could stumble on by mistake.

Sweet Celebi, you hate how impressed you are, but this arrogant reptile is arguably one of the coolest, most beautiful things you've ever seen, and the worst part is you can tell it knows that.

"Sorry," Melati explains, though her usual monotone kind of robs the apology of any energy. "Manasa thinks I should get out more. And that I am courting every man I introduce her to. She means well, though. Like all Serperior, she has a very feudal view of things, and since she considers me a fellow queen, she has decided I need heirs. Don't mind her, she won't do anything about it."

Once again, a fond tone pierces through her words — you're beginning to realise that this woman basically only emotes whenever snakes are involved. She's really fond of them, huh ?

A pointed look draws you out of that particular musing, and you remember the game you'd been playing.

"Serperior. One of Unova's iconic pokemon, with a paralytic glare that I thought was more of a myth until right now, one of the few pokemon capable of such fine control of internal energy that they can turn would-be attempts at debilitating them into a power boost, and a control of nature rumoured to be among the very best of all Grass-types, to the point that in the past entire noble houses and merchant clans were forged around access to a single Serperior's glade."

You don't have to fake your awe. You'd seen some on TV. Hell, you've seen videos of this particular one before. It just can't measure up to the real thing.

Besides, Melati seems overjoyed (by her standards) that you feel that way.

"Hmm. Manasa's mother was the owner of a partner glade," she adds proudly, and you refrain from the urge to whistle.

Those Serperior who granted access to their glade's produce didn't do so for free. They got resources and opportunities few others could boast of, and usually grew to become some of the greater members of their species.

You're now mostly certain that Manasa's mother is a Named pokemon. You also will tactfully not bring it up, because considering how paranoid those families with contracts are about limiting access to their resources… There's very little possibility Melati could have gotten an audience with the mother through the proper channels, and Named pokemon eggs didn't get sold. You earned the right to them.

Didn't she say something about a three-month trip to Unova that couldn't be delayed earlier ?

Yeah, if you're reading this right, for that kind of opportunity you probably wouldn't have let many things stand in your way either.

Idly, you wonder if she should be more careful about basically admitting to smuggling, until you think back to the point she made earlier. It's all about Trainer solidarity, isn't it ? She's given you the clues you need to guess that she earned the right to take and raise Manasa, so you know there isn't anything nefarious behind her ownership… And therefore there's nothing to oppose, is there ? Everyone knows Unova's iron grip on the Snivy supply is, despite all excuses to the contrary, the work of pure greed.

Without ever mentioning anything about it aloud, she has introduced you to the concept of conflictual relationship between Trainers and the authorities, the inherent problem with the fine line between human law and a pokemon's desires… And which side of that line she and no doubt most of her peers stand on. Seeing if you'll stand there with them.

You honestly cannot tell whether this woman is a cunning tactical mastermind or whether you are reading way too hard into what she's saying — so you just nod to show you understood, and decide to leave what exactly it is you've understood up in the air, rather than think about it any further.

Seemingly satisfied with whatever it is she saw in your gesture, she unclips her fifth pokeball, and opens it towards the river.

"Pep, Gyarados," she says, as though you needed to be told.

The creature that rises from the river's waters, which can barely contain it, is awesome, in the word's primal meaning. It is a source of awe.

It towers above you, and radiates power in a way none of the pokemon you've ever met have — and it's not as though you've never seen professional Battlers and even the odd actual Trainer's team up close. You thought you'd been genuinely awed before.

You weren't. Not compared to a paragon of one of the most iconic and revered pokemon species in the world.

A dragon is not a Type. It is a creature with the power to seize the world, the spirit to act on it, and the pride to see it through.

Elder Tashigi's words, Champion Lance's great-grandmother, when the Dragon Clan stood trial at the Indigo League for burning down an entire clan which had decided to breed Charizard — a Fire/Flying-type which shouldn't have fallen under their monopoly.

They had walked away from that incident scoff-free, though that had more to do with the army of angry Dragonites than it did with justice. Still, the only minor victory earned by the League that day was that while Charizard and what vanishingly few Aerodactyls remained officially fell under their umbrella, Gyarados were spared despite the Clan's insistence.

Mostly because, deep down, everyone knew that trying to control the world's Magikarp population was a fool's gambit. But it was still a minor moral victory.

Sometimes, you wonder if every dead League official is constantly rolling in their grave, knowing Lance is their Champion.

Still, that respect didn't come from nowhere. Gyarados were dragon in every way that truly mattered outside of competitive battling, and in front of its terrible majesty (and a maw that could swallow you whole without blinking) you do the only clever thing.

You bow.

After a few interminable seconds, you hear a huff of… something ? You can tell there's an emotion in there, and you are absolutely incapable of deciphering it. Still, the looming sense of impending murder recedes, and you allow your back to rise.

Melati is looking at you approvingly, but you only have eyes for Pep (that has to be the most ill-fitting name she could have given it, right ?). You almost regret calling that poor Seviper a reptilian instrument of murder. The serpent in front of you dwarfs even the Serperior, and if ever a creature you've seen was worthy of the nickname, it's that one.

"Scales that can stop steel, fangs that can rend it, a grip that sinks ships, and power enough that none of it matters," you quote, feeling yourself become a little faraway. Quoting centuries-old epic poetry off by heart is kind of embarrassing, but you're not sure you can describe what you're seeing with your own words. "The only dragon that took the title."

You can't help it. Twenty minutes ago, you could have calmly given a list of miscellaneous scientific facts about Gyarados, talked about where they're found or their historical significance and their prominent showings as local deities in many communities.

Instead you're fanboying like an edgy thirteen-year old, and you can't help it. You can't hide it. This is the kind of thing that made you want to become a trainer — Pep isn't just a pokemon, he's the embodiment of a legend. You've seen other Gyarados before. They don't measure up.

If you were afraid of sounding like an idiot, though… You shouldn't have worried. Melati is looking oddly… proud of you ? But you barely notice, because the beast swivels its head towards you and nods. Shallowly, just once, before turning away and diving underwater.

You don't think that curious Goldeen whom you briefly saw pierce the water earlier has long to live.

You also don't care, because that might be the highest compliment you've ever received in your life.

"Good," Melati's voice utters softly next to you. "You get it."

You do. Nothing else needs to be said.

You almost want to ask her to stop when she reaches for her final pokeball. It's too much, all at once. You feel like you're being overloaded with sensations you weren't quite as ready to handle as you'd imagined. But you have to see.

"Jura," she says, and it's not like she needs to introduce her final serpent.

Melati Meriwether, the Snake Charmer, was impressive for managing to raise and tame a wildborn Gyarados as a barely pubescent teenager. But she was admired for one pokemon above all.

Her Milotic materialises in the river, and once again you breath is taken, though for very different reasons. You've seen her before, of course — it's what made you seek out Melati in the first place — but that was from afar. It was already one of the most beautiful things you'd seen in your life, but now that she's up close and you can make out the rainbow sheen of each individual scale as she trills enchantingly…

It's not the same as with Pep. It's less overwhelming, in a sense. But Jura… the world ceases to exist around her. In any space she occupies, there is nothing but her. Nothing else could possibly capture your attention. For a moment, you even feel as though she's using some manner of Hypnosis, but a quick check of your thought processes shows nothing amiss. She's just beyond what you could imagine.

Then, all of a sudden, the overwhelming feeling… lessens, for lack of a better word. Jura herself isn't any lesser, it's more like… you can suddenly handle it better ? Next to you, Melati thanks her starter, and you suddenly realise that you've been staring slack-jawed for a handful of minutes now.

And that her Milotic apparently needs to actively restrains herself… somehow ? in order for you to be a functional human being in its vicinity.

"I don't think what I thought I knew about Milotic ten minutes ago applies," you admit with a tremble in your voice, still a bit shaken, and ripping your sight away from the pokemon to look at your mentor takes a bigger effort of will that you'd like to admit.

"That's alright," she assures you gently. "You understand."

That's the second time she says something to that effect, and you finally realise that she was never looking to see if you were knowledgeable about the species of pokemon she owned. She was happy that you'd known and remembered things about all of them, of course, but what she was waiting for was this.

Understanding and acknowledgment of their worth as individuals, and the weight a properly raised, properly trained pokemon has.
Looking at her again, you finally see it. The difference in years.

She isn't all that much older than you — you can't remember her exact age, but you remember she hasn't hit thirty yet. Unconsciously, you probably placed the two of you closer down the path of training for that reason.

The difference is that she has been raising her pokemon since she was ten. She has nearly twenty years of training experience. Almost your entire lifetime. It's one thing to be aware that she was considered a natural Training savant, but you'd never considered what that meant.

This isn't the pinnacle of training ; there's the Champions, the Elite Four, some of the Leaders.

But whatever those heights are, they look dreadfully similar to the willowy blue-haired woman currently smiling at you.

You've never felt so envious and admiring at the same time.

"You are one of us," she says contentedly, apparently seeing a reflection of that ambition in your eyes and finding it satisfactory.

Next to her, Jura croons happily, and then brings her head towards you to sniff at you curiously.

Unbidden, your hand reaches up — very slowly — and, looking all the while at Melati to make sure you have permission, you slide it under her chin and scratch, imitating the gesture you saw her make with her Sandaconda earlier. She nods approvingly, and the Milotic besides you trills happily.

You have reached ultimate zen.

Soon, however, she withdraws, and with a final smile (you don't exactly know how you understand that it's a smile, but you could swear it's one) she begs off and joins Pep, the two soon intertwining their coils affectionately as she inquires after his business.

You just breathe quietly for a moment, taking the rest in slowly. Yasigi the Sandaconda is still wrapped around her trainer, having apparently opted for a snooze, and Manasa the Serperior has found a tree to wrap herself around and from which she surveys her new temporary fiefdom. Yero and Nekeh, the Seviper and Arbok, went off hunting.

"Trial by fire, huh ?" you ask.

"The spirit is what matters. All the rest can come with time and effort, but if you saw this and didn't feel that fire, that desire… It would have been a waste of time."

You nod quietly. She's right. It's odd, really. Growing up, you were hardly the only one who dreamed of being an actual proper Trainer. Sure, there weren't many who thought they could handle that lifestyle, but there were some. All of them had always felt off to you. Like they didn't get it, except you would have been unable for the life of you to explain what it was.

Now you know. They would have seen Pep or even Nekeh, and they would have felt only fear. They would have seen Jura, and they would have seen the wondrous colours of her scales… but not the overwhelming power coursing through her, which makes so much of her beauty.

Or maybe you're being an arrogant gatekeeping asshole. But you feel oddly confident in that judgment. Maybe you'll get the occasion to judge — they all left at eighteen, but you think two of them haven't given up yet.

"Besides," Melati picks up next to you, "you've now gotten lesson number one when it comes to training out of the way. Care to tell me what it is ?"

You don't really have to think much about it.

"We make our pokemon more," you say. "It doesn't matter what we train them in, so long as we make them better versions of themselves."

She nods in response.

"Yes. Now why don't you introduce us to the one whose growth you will guide ?"


[] Swinub
[] Horsea
[] Magikarp
[] Krabby
[] Mareep
[] Onix
[] Nidoran♀
[] Slowpoke
[] Chinchou
[] Azurill
[] Hoothoot

---

A/N: Huh, I said it would be a shorter scene to make space for the final starter vote, and then... this happened. Actually, I started writing the bit I was planning on, finished it, and then realised that at no point was knowing what your starter is actually necessary for another three or four thousand words... so I wrote them.

A bit of a strange and meandering introduction into the world of Trainers, but you picked the strangest mentor of the lot. Simon and Elena would have given you a much more down-to-earth speech and far less theatrical team introductions, but Melati is very much an oddball in her approach. Part of me was kind of hoping you'd pick the other two because she's definitely harder to write, but she actually came through more smoothly than I was worried about. The others would have sort of tried to get a feel for your personality and aspirations... Melati just did one long test of character to make sure you were serious about this in the first place.

That said, by picking her, you got an early glimpse of what Elite Four-tier pokemon look like in Pep and Jura, with that Serperior also beginning to close the gap. Simon and Elena, despite actually being better battlers and being arguably more straightforward and relatable teachers, didn't have any pokemon that can compare. Which means you get to skip the rude awakening that would have possibly come for you had you picked one of the other two and not figured out that gap in quality before trying to throw down with one of the top dogs.

Final bit of chargen coming next update - I want your starter out of the way before getting into the meat of your personality and your name.

Reminder for votes :
[] Degree
[] Starter (Approval voting)