"Sir! The trainer and the riolu have now entered the town of Littleroot, as you expected! And what's more, the trainer's companion has left him! Suggesting immediate action, right away, SIR!" The messenger grunt saluted five times throughout his sentence, leaving Archie in no doubt that this was the same grunt who had reported to him before. He sighed, cursing himself for not firing this clown. Very little hope remained that this would be an intelligent conversation.
"Sir," the grunt said mechanically, "Since the trainer is reported to only have two pokémon, and is a beginner, I recommend that we take action! Even our lowliest grunts could take care of this trainer!"
Archie was hit by sudden inspiration. For once, the grunt had actually made a good suggestion, although for the wrong reasons. Still, he didn't deserve a raise, and it was unlikely he was ever going to get one, although he could just keep them hoping. It wasn't cruel, it was just motivational.
"Very good! You thought up a great idea there! Saying things like this deserves a raise! The next time you think up something as good as that, I'll give you one!" he said happily. "Send out our weakest grunt to go and battle that trainer!" The Aqua member beamed happily, and flounced out of the room.
Ahh, now he could see how it would all work, just like a globe puzzle. It took absolutely ages to put together, but you felt great until you realise there's one piece missing, at which point you scream, shout, demolish the puzzle, and realise you were sat on the missing piece. But it wasn't like that at all.
Hope still remained.


As soon as he started off down the hill, Tom noticed his body relaxing. He hadn't realised that when he talked to Holly, he was constantly on guard, making sure not to say anything stupid. His reputation was on the line. Talking to Holly had been a rather good workout, like juggling knives.
The place a champion first called home is, according to tradition, small, grubby, dull, and has a very high chance of any trainer at all living there becoming very rich and famous. If this was a fairytale, it would have stayed that way for generations to come. But for those who like to play on the rumours that spring up around such chances, it's a way of gaining money hand over fist.
Tom stepped into a colour explosion. There were fairs, stalls, noise, and lots of people packed between them (only a few people running in circles, screaming.) At least the place was better than Rustboro, but the site of a champion shouldn't really look like a, a, a tourist attraction. Tom cursed Holly for not telling him what was over a simple, quiet, deceptive hill, and stood there, letting his eyes wander past the tents, colours, and vendors who looked as though they had been slashed in the face several times by a sword, to the lonely laboratory standing in the distance. He wandered down to Littleroot, trying to keep his eyes on the laboratory, the large crowd and on the uneven ground, which was quite a difficult task. He also noted the pitches people made, which ranged from, 'Hey, you there!' to, 'You look like you haven't had any sleep in weeks- want to buy a raticate fang to take home with you?" And, he had to admit, he was getting ready for a fight again, and his pokémon were doubtlessly thinking the same thing, although maybe something that girl talk tends to include. After a while of walking, his mind said something to him. It was a whiny voice, and made him look back in horror to see if Holly had followed him.
'When are we going to get fed? Pokémon food may be specifically for us, but that doesn't mean we have to like it!' As his mind clunked into place, he ruled out that it couldn't be Holly, and there was too much emotion for it to be his conscience. This only left...
"Sylva? Is that you? If it isn't, I'd prefer it if you didn't answer," he said, caution vibrating from every syllable.
'Of course it's me, you idiot. I am sup-posed to be psychic, you know. And we are supposed to get food too.'
"Jeez, not even a trainer and I'm already being shouted at. All right, since I am in a vendor street, I will get you something."
'Thank god. Golde is hungry too, so get something for her as well. And make it good.'
"What's the magic word?"
'Gimme!'
"Close enough. I would've said the same."
'Stop talking, start buying!'
He sighed. It was probably best to get them what they wanted.
He dawdled through the throngs of people for a bit, searching for somewhere to eat, until he came across a stall with steam coming out of it, which he took as a good sign, and walked up to the front bar area. There was only one other person there, and he turned to look him. He was wearing a blue and white striped shirt, and was looking and Tom with his face screwed up.
"Hey, aren't you-"
He ran for it.


Holly walked amiably back to Oldale, her hair swinging in the breeze. It was the life: free to do what she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted, a loyal companion to leave with, and no-one to tell her off for being loud. And she was due a battle, although it had to be a good one. But there was still no one anywhere on this path, so she kept going, moaning to herself louder and louder.
As she flounced down the road, she noticed the people they had ran away from going back in the cafe. She grinned at her luck: now she could get past without anyone noticing, but the weird thing was that it still seemed to be about the lie they used. But since they were nowhere to be found, they looked like they were arguing about the fact that the arguing stopped.
Feeling like a good prank, she found a scarf in her bag, and she walked right down to the café they were at, and looked for the giant they had talked to before. She grinned when she saw her, slumped over a drink in a depressed state. Holly was glad she hadn't met her own conscience yet.
"Excuse me; are you the lady who wanted the shuckleberry? It's just that the person who was selling it told me to tell everyone he's going down to Littleroot to sell it there. He said to search for him quickly, because he doesn't have that many bottles left now."
There was a loud silence as everyone who was in the café digested what Holly had said.
As one person, they stood up, and started running towards the exit and out towards Littleroot, leaving a shaken Holly to wander carefully out of the bar.
She hadn't thought they would take her that seriously. Sure, the drink had been noted to make you feel better than ever before, which was probably why so many people wanted it, but the was a limit to how much it should affect you.
She looked at the withdrawing mob and thought, 'Nothing to do. Nothing, on those cold winter nights, on those hot summer days, on holidays and on workdays. The only thing that rules this town is the influence of alcohol, a pet zigzagoon that lies on the rug all day, and maybe a weird cup that looks flashy, means a lot and is worth absolutely nothing. The whole town is ripe for one good push. It's a pity it's never going to get one.'
Having thought this, she flounced off to Petalburg, ready to start her journey again, and grinning all the while. Another fundamental problem hit her.
"Jesus! I STINK!"

Tom stopped running, and didn't bother looking up. It was true- in a throng of tents pitched side by side; with one mighty leap, you could be free. As long as you realised it was one of your options before you were caught.
Now all he had to worry about was everyone's age-old right to starve to death. It was one of few things he found there wasn't any rules on. It seemed ages since his last proper meal. He sidled up to one tent and watched the vendor in action.
"Get yer hotdogs here! We got all kinds of hot dog, from spicy to sliced! Get 'em while they're-"the vendor mentally tried different ways of ending the sentence, and gave up. "Hot dogs! Get yer hot dogs here! How about you guv, you look hungry, eh?"
He had been spotted. At least he had been noticed by a vendor that was selling real food.
"Er, yeah. Can pokémon eat this stuff?"
The vendor looked shocked, and staggered to the back of the tent before coming back to the bar again.
"This stuff? This stuff, boy, is some of the best chow around. You'll never feel the same after you eat this stuff, guv. That's on my honour. Try a bit, why don't ya?"
The vendor handed a miniscule sliver of meat to him. He took it cautiously, not believing the honour part.
"For me or for my ralts?"
"Either, you can both eat it. Go right ahead, call em out!"
Tom frowned again, and threw Sylvas pokéball into the air. She emerged, and Tom held it in front of her. She sniffed it.
'It doesn't smell dangerous,' she said, staring at it warily. 'Can I eat it?'
"What do you usually do with food? Stand on your head and sing a song with it? Go on, eat it," he said, handing it to her. She took it, and popped it in her mouth. For the first time in a while, she looked content.
'Ahh, spicy,' she said, munching happily. 'Do they have a sour version of this stuff? Cos if they do, that'll do for me and Golde. Tastes great. Ask him, then!' Tom jerked, and popped the question to the vendor, who grinned happily.
"Oh, yes," he said happily. "We call it sauerkraut. Boom boom. Sorry, but I hardly ever get to use that joke. How much will you be having?"
After he paid for the food, he returned Sylva and said to the vendor, "Never use that joke again. I may shoot myself. Bye."


Tom reached the hill on which the professors' lab stood, and immediately knew something was wrong. His hair was standing on end. The air tasted like copper. The building was crackling. He sighed.
"Why is nothing in my life ever easy," he said to himself, trying to flatten his hair. "I bet somewhere in the world there some kind of anti-Tom, whose life is a constant procession of wonderful surprises. I hope I have a weapon when I meet him."
Before he could go into the lab, he heard a kind of screeching sound, like a turkey being strangled. Without warning, his pokéballs fizzed, sent out his pokémon, and imploded, ashes scattering across the hill. Sylva and Golde looked dazed when they were sent out, and with all the static in the air, Golde looked like a complete mess. Eventually their eyes focused, and they looked at Tom confusedly. He shrugged.
"Let's just find out what the hell is going on," he said, and walked into the building, Golde hopping onto his shoulders, Sylva following his lead.
It wasn't a pretty sight. Scientific equipment was strewn around the floor, there was a shining light ahead, the walls were cracked and ripped, and a very scared aide was whimpering near the entrance, who spotted Tom and clung to his leg, weeping in terror.
"Please help the professor! He was experimenting with a power degeneration machine and an electrode, in which pads are hooked up to the electrode-"
"Do you want help or not? Just tell me what I have to do to stop it and I will!" Tom said, cutting across the aide, who pushed his glasses back up onto his face, still trembling.
"It's rather simple but you are lucky this has only just begun because it gives you a chance to stop it in time so all you need to do is sever the link with the actual power generator in use with that of the pokémon actually and so the machine will then be capable of reducing the power input made by the electrode which is in stress making the machine overload in the first place and then the degenerator will be able to sort itself out making itself perform within it's usual parameters and will eventually shut itself down to make the electricity input usable but if you don't do this then the machine will generate a blast that will take out all machines with a range that could even reach Kanto!" The aide realised he hadn't breathed all through this impressively long sentence and got right on it.
There was a pause as Tom mentally inserted commas into the sentence and tried to figure out what it all meant. After a while of the aide gasping at him, he was able to simplify the information put to him.
"So basically, all I have to do is make the electrode faint, unplug it from the pads connected to it, and if I don't do this in time then..."
"Boom!"
Tom grinned. "So no pressure, then? We'll do it. How's the pay for this job?"
The aide looked at him disbelievingly. Tom chuckled.
"Just joking. You go outside, it might be dangerous." The aide nodded, and hurried outside. Tom adjusted his cap. The electrode glared at him cautiously. He was finally doing some good in the world, but good didn't usually stare at you in a scared manner. He shrugged off these feelings; he had a job to do.
"Go, Sylva and Golde! Let's take out this dude quick! Sylva, confusion, and Golde, use tackle!"
The pokémon carried out their respective moves, the electrode lifted off and flung on the ground from the confusion attack, and rolling over backwards from the tackle. However, it didn't look too badly hurt, just angry. It shot a thunderbolt at Sylva, who wasn't quick enough to avoid the blast, and collapsed onto the ground, smoking. Tom swore.
"Shit! That thing's powerful! Golde, don't let yourself get hit, or it's all over! Keep dodging and attack when you see an opening! You can do this, I know you can!"
Golde took Tom's words to heart, and moved as quickly as she could, using the speed from her quick attack (which was the first move that was her own: Tom had made up tackle) to avoid all the bolts being shot out by the electrode. Tom himself had to duck and cover behind an expensive looking piece of equipment while the battle raged on. He risked a peek around the apparatus and saw Golde facing the electrode. Then, she jumped over the electrode, and in one chop of a paw she severed the wires connecting the electrode to the degenerator, which crackled loudly and began powering down. However, in doing this, Golde lost her chance to defend herself, and was hit head-on by a thunder wave attack, and the paralysis made it hard to move her joints: a sitting duck. The electrode began crackling again, charging itself up for a very final thunder attack.
"NO! Golde, get out of the way! You can't get hit by this!" However, Golde was in an impossible position; even if the paralysis lifted, she wouldn't get out of the way in time. Golde could only look into the electrodes' miniscule pupils in a begging way. However, after the beating it had taken, it wasn't likely to be merciful.
The most accurate way to describe what happened next wasn't a pleasant one, because it didn't look nice to see anyone (especially Golde) look like their body stretched to the height of the ceiling and then had their feet snapped beneath their chin. However, this is what happened, along with a blue aura surrounding her. Golde contorted (twice) then vanished into thin air, leaving behind a few blue sparks in the air.
"WHAT! Where the hell did she go, you genderless asshole! So help me I'll-"
'Oh, shut up being gallant you idiot. You didn't think I'd be downed in one hit, did you?' Tom knew that sarcastic voice, and turned to see Sylva struggling to her feet, glaring at the electrode in fury.
There is a phrase that is to be said on these occasions, and it was one that Tom had been thinking of ever since he started his journey, having had contact with three of them. It was: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. This was close enough to the mark to qualify for that saying. As Golde reappeared beside Tom, Sylva let loose her anger on the electrode. Tom, sensing hell, wisely dived to the floor, covering Golde, and lifted his head around to see what Sylva was doing. It wasn't pretty.
'Hey! Asshole!'
A blue aura once again surrounded the electrode, this time smashing it up into the ceiling before letting gravity take its toll. It smashed the ground with a force strong enough to make the stones in the floor fly out from beneath it, and the electrode finally made a muffled buzzing noise, and stopped moving. Sylva collapsed, the amount of used energy throwing her into the darkness of her brain with a loud thump, and she collapsed. Tom wasn't sure who had won the battle, but it looked like he had, and he ran over to Sylva and picked her up, checking her pulse. It was still beating: she had only fainted.
"You did brill, girls," he said, relieved. "But where the hell is professor Birch? And were did that bedwetter aide go? Probably still pissing his pants outside. Let's go see him and get some answers, because I don't feel like much of a hero when I save a machine."
He picked up his battered pokémon, and went out into the daylight again, searching for the aide. They found him at the side of the laboratory, assuming the crash position and muttering to himself.
"IcantbelievethatjusthappenedohmygodwhatamIgonnadoBirchisgonnabefuriousandthattrainersprobablydeadbynowohcrapohcrapohcrap-"
Tom grabbed one of the aide's hands, got him standing, and punched him. The aide staggered, before focusing on Tom, who grinned.
"I've always wanted to hit a professor!"


The rampaging horde of people depressed by lack of alcohol made it over the hill to Littleroot, still searching for the state of euphoria that came from that wonderful drink...
They descended, like the state of the living dead: slowly, straight ahead, and with one purpose. Shuckleberry has been said, by Sidney of the elite four no less, to 'Steal your soul, is such a way that you lose all rational thought and live only to get more of it. It's a hellish curse, but a damn good drink. Another problem with it is that when it is drunk, all your nerves run on overdrive: you get more adrenaline, your heart rate increases, and all of your emotions increase tenfold: if a man taps an addict on the shoulder, then it's very likely that he is either being beaten up 2 seconds afterwards, or running down the street after the addict turns around. Avoid these people. Seriously.'
Some of the more desperate people started pushing tents over. A fire started. Littleroot town was being burnt over a prank, and so was years of history of champion-making, new adventures and tradition.
All in all, not one of Littleroots' better days.


"You saved many peoples' lives today-"the aide, having revealed his name as Josh, began.
"How'd I do that? I-"
'WE!'
"Sorry, WE only knocked out an electrode. It wasn't the hardest of heroic feats."
They were stood back inside the ravaged lab, with Sylva and Golde having a revive sprayed on both of them. Golde was still a little unsteady, and kept falling off Tom's shoulder, thumping on the ground. They had started talking about what had just happened. The machine that the electrode had been hooked up to was now motionless and the K.Oed electrode had been stuffed into a closet, as there was no poké mart for a while around.
"Weeell, did your pokéballs seem to splutter and disintegrate? That was caused by the small E.M.P that was around the lab at the time. There was also a small magnetic field, which may have made your hair stand on end a little: is that why your Riolus hair was so fuzzy?" Josh said, looking at Golde.
At that moment, he heard a strange sound, like a tiny chainsaw. It took him a while to realize Golde was growling in his ear. For the good of Josh, Tom started jerking his thumb at Golde and shaking his head. Thankfully, the aide understood, and diverted his speech subtly, coughing.
"Erm, yes. Well. Anyway. What the power degenerator actually does, put simply, is that it takes power away from the thing it is attached to. I was actually trying to turn the electrode back into a ball ever since I heard that a voltorb was made by a pokéball being exposed to a violent surge of energy. So I wondered: what about if we did it to an electrode? Unfortunately..." Josh finished lamely, waving his hand at the damage the lab had suffered.
The walls had been cracked, all the bulbs had popped, leaving glass on the floor and important equipment was scattered all over the place. Tom's heart sank. Most likely all the pokédexes around had been disintegrated in the short range E.M.P blast. When he told this to Josh, however, he cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, yeah, right, we just leave such equipment out the front of the lab, with a sign over it saying 'steal me,'" Josh said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Of course not, those pokédexes are expensive stuff, dontyerknow, and so, they are heavily protected. All we had in the outside lab was the stuff that looks expensive and is good for nothing, its just trashy stuff that's painted. And, in case you were wondering, the E.M.P blast could have shorted out pacemakers, hospital equipment, and so on. Well done. Give yourself a gold star." Tom was impressed. They may be a lab that invents things just at the right moment, (when someone important is there) but they actually knew what they were doing, too. Especially when it came to giving out gold stars.
"Well, I didn't walk up here to save lots of peoples' lives; I came for a beginner pokédex. Please. I did kind of save your ass and all."
"There's no way you're a beginner, but sure, why not? But... oh crap, that's a riolu isn't it?"
"Er. Yes? Of course it is! Does this mean you have to give me two gold stars?" he said, in the manner of someone trying to earn extra sweets by posing for auntie and uncle.
"No, it means we have to give you an advanced pokédex. That riolu isn't of our region, and our normal pokédexes won't have a clue what it is- and it doesn't like it when that happens." He said, half happy that he was rewarding someone who had saved his job, half-angry that he had to give away an improved model: they were costly and slow to make. Put simply, his face contorted strangely.
"But, where is it? You're the one who went into a damn long monologue about E.M.P. Shouldn't it be fried?"
"No, because we actually protect our equipment here. C'mon, I'll show you." And with that, Josh got up and started walking to the back of the lab. Tom followed him: there was no passage that he could see. Josh moved to the back of the desk, and started pushing it forwards, revealing a keypad in the floor. Tom groaned: it was so typically clichéd that someone would hide a secret passage under something.
"Stop there, please. Although it would be good for you to be sterilized, because you stink, (this got an annoyed frown from Tom, and a nod and grimace from Sylva and Golde) I'm not allowed to let you in here. The alarm would go off, and I'd be in even worse trouble than if the E.M.P-"
"Oh, get on with it. I have to sleep here tonight as well." Tom said, yawning- it was getting later on in the day, because of all the time he had spent around the stalls. Josh grumbled, and typed in the keypad, and the floor opened into a staircase going downwards.
"This could be a while, I don't... exactly know where it is," Josh said sheepishly. "Just stay up there, will you? Thanks."
Tom sighed, and lay down flat on his back, avoiding the glass. He was settling into a doze, until Sylva stuck her face over his. Before she could speak, however, Tom attacked with a question.
"By the way, how did you knock out that electrode? I'm kinda confused as to where you got all the energy from," Tom asked, squinting at her eyes.
Sylva did her best to explain, as the process of which pokémon learn moves is quite difficult to understand if you weren't one.
The thing was, pokémon don't just get to a certain level, and then a *poof* happens inside their brain and you can all of a sudden choose a new move to learn and forget another one. Ingrained in every pokémon's brain is the moveset that they can learn on their own, but the brain has to work for a while trying to figure out how it's actually done, otherwise when you use a move, say teleport, you find your body smeared across several dimensions that hadn't been discovered yet. And so, Sylva explained, that was why it took an interval of several levels to learn new moves. The more complicated the move is, the harder it is to learn, but for some of the more intelligent pokémon, they can learn new moves a slight bit quicker. It's easy enough to just say that the level intervals are totally random for each pokémon, but they will all always learn the same moves after a while.
Sylva realised that Tom wasn't really paying attention through this speech, and got Golde to hit him over the head. This did get Tom's attention, and he looked and Sylva angrily, who smiled at him sweetly.
'Time to learn your languages!' she said, grinning. She was going to be a teacher, and not just any teacher, one who could hurt a persons' mind if he got it wrong. Tom groaned.
This was going to be fun...Chapter End Notes:Well there we go. I'm not entirely sure about the ending, but I think it all worked out rather well after a while. As I've already said, I do need reviews for this; otherwise I may well... go off and not write more chapters, maybe. (Well, maybe that's a bit extreme, but you get the idea.) I can't improve with some help, you know.

As an old friend once said to me: A smart friend, a steel factory, and super high grade protection will be enough to communise and take over the world!

No, he wasn't thinking clearly