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Ever Grande City, Hoenn League Headquarters || January 1st

Dana returned her Swampert silently, her eyes focused on the building in the distance: Hoenn’s Pokemon League, where she’d struggled hard for her third championship title years ago. The building was still very much the same, save for perhaps a fresh coat of paint and some new additions to the garden.

What are a few thunderbolts to a Salamence who’s fought tag teams of Raichu? Dana thought, frowning as she scanned the horizon again. The entire day had been a mess of confusion, with the weather channels predicting anything from hail storms to hurricanes, yet the sky remained defiantly clear in spite of speculations. Flying, of course, had been banned for the day, and though Dana was sure that—somewhere in the world—there was definitely some rule-breaking going on, she also knew that as a champion, she would have to support the League’s decisions, no matter how ludicrous.

Making me Waterfall up here, she thought, her frown deepening for a moment before she let it drop completely. It should all blow over soon.

Briskly making for the League building, Dana glanced down to check her watch to ensure that she was on time. A clap of thunder from above interrupted her action, and a subsequent smattering of raindrops prompted her to call out her Venusaur, who pulled up a makeshift umbrella of leaves and vines that Dana ducked under, dusting water from her clothes. However, a wet gust of wind undid her work, pulling a curse from Dana as her Venusaur made to shield her.

Can the weather make up its mind already, she thought irritably. More thunder sounded, and just as Dana had started off for the League building again, the earthquake started. The ground shook, the sky trembled, and Dana clutched her Venusaur’s vines tightly, feeling her annoyance spike.

And then it was over. The earthquake had stopped, the rain had let up, and even the soppingly heavy clouds had cleared.

Hoenn, Dana thought, dispelling her annoyance with a sigh as she reached down to return her Venusaur. She stopped short, snapping back up to scan over her surroundings.

Where—

Where the Pokemon League previously stood, there was now a crystalline lake, stretching out into the distance. Reeds faded into pines from the lakeshore, and the waterfall Dana had ridden her Swampert up was now a misty forest of evergreens. At her side were a smattering of Pokemon, some hers and some not, and her Venusaur had vanished.

“Venusaur!” she called, making to return her Scizor and Clefable while keeping an eye on the newcomers. Ivysaur, Combusken, Marshtomp, Duskull—

“Arceus above,” she breathed, eyes widening. “Dusknoir?”

The Duskull drifted over, half-hovering, half-walking, and almost tripping over its own feet, almost as if it weren’t used to its own body.

---

---

Toronto, Ontario. Canada. || January 10th

Dana was—despite how much she hated to admit it—nervous. Her Pokemon, who were all gathered into the spacious hotel room provided for her courtesy of Professor Elm, provided little comfort seeing as they’d all been severely weakened, some even devolved. Here she was in a strange land surrounded by strange people who spoke another language and looked at her as if she were an alien—which, she supposed, she was.

In the few days after she’d arrived in “Ka-na-da,” which was apparently the land she now resided in, she’d been held at gunpoint multiple times, handcuffed through it all and separated from her Pokemon after she’d instructed them to stand down. The guns levelled at her had not scared her so much as her new reality: dead Pokeballs and Pokedexes, surrounded by weakened and devolved Pokemon and people with whom she shared no common tongue. That they lacked Pokemon was the only comforting part; although they initially took her other Pokemon from her, her Dusknoir—now Duskull—would stay by her side, hidden in her shadow, silently awaiting her word. Against her Duskull, the guns the natives of the land wielded had seemed rather nonconsequential, and she was assured of her safety despite being packed away into trucks and cells.

All the same, the appearance of Professor Elm, who ordered her uncuffed and delivered to a hotel room, was exceedingly comforting. The professor had few answers for her, and though he saw to it that she was reunited with her Pokemon and well cared for, Dana couldn’t shake her nervousness: where was she, and what had happened? Her nervousness quickly gave rise to annoyance, though, and she found herself constantly critiquing her “team”—a slew of Pokemon she’d withdrawn on a whim, confident that she could swap them out once she’d arrived at the League. The least she could have done was bring a flier. Having her Salamence or—if that was to be devolved upon arrival—her Xatu at her side would be much more reassuring than her current mismatched menagerie, if not for their ability to fly then for Xatu’s ability to teleport. Instead, she was left with a bunch of half-evolved, severely weakened Pokemon she had had no mind to use other than for their ability to scale waterfalls and shield her from the rain.

At the very least give me something to do—research, train, learn, she thought, turning back to the window through which she was observing the city. In this strange new world with so many unanswered questions, surely there something for her to do—some way for her to help the investigation effort to get the trainers back home, yet here she was, staring out the window.

---

---

Washington D.C. U.S. || March 2nd

The plane ticket was, as Camden resolved, the last thing he’d ever use his parents’ money to pay for, which worked out fairly well since he later found out that he’d be reimbursed for travel expenses anyway. And to think that I was considering taking the bus, he thought as he filed into the testing center. He’d arrived early for testing—exceedingly so—not so much because he was confident as because he wanted to get the test over and done with.

One and a half months to study for a single exam pretty much guarantees passing for everyone, doesn’t it? Camden thought as he looked around at the test takers beside him. Bookish or athletic, excited or nervous, all sorts of trainer aspirants could be seen. Wonder what the test will be like.

The subsequent announcement gave Camden pause. Practical exams? he thought, intrigued by the idea. Would he be allowed to see Pokemon up close already? He predicted no trouble on the written portion, though; a month and a half’s study of all the Pokemon trivia he could dredge up was enough to have covered all the geography and ecology anyone wanted, and distinguishing animal and Pokemon was a simple matter of recognizing a Pokemon for a Pokemon. “Survival techniques” was the only one that gave him pause, but if it was a matter of Pokemon world foliage, then there was no problem at all.

They could have just announced that they were testing these things, Camden thought irritably as he received his written exam. How’re they hoping to get properly prepared candidates if they don’t even tell them how to prepare?

The start of the testing period was called, and Camden flew through the questions rapidly, noting down the questions that gave him pause so he could go back and deliberate them thoroughly after he’d finished the rest. As he’d predicted, the franchise-related trivia proved to be little problem for someone that could list off which berries were native to which regions, but he struggled more with the more native things.

Comfrey? Sounds familiar, but that’s about it, he thought, flicking his pencil in annoyance. Why do I even have to know its medicinal properties—isn’t civilization a bit past mashing up voodoo pastes?

Filling in his best answers—slightly-informed guesses, more like, mostly based on whether or not the plant sounded like something he’d seen before since everything that wasn’t poisonous would have somehow found its way onto some snobby restaurant’s menu—Camden scanned his answers through for any more notations before rising and turning his exam in. He’d never been one for deliberating over his gut instincts, especially not after the times when he’d changed his correct answer to the wrong one, giving into hesitation.

The next portion of the exam, as it was announced, was a physical one that seemed to draw on various parts of Camden’s life that he’d thought he could leave behind for good. Well playing lacrosse for four years should mean I’m faster than the average Joe, and—never thought I’d live to think this—Uncle Ted’s hunting trips might actually be of use, with his strange concepts of “what a man ought to know” and that nonsense. As long as there’s no butchering and gutting involved, that part should be fine as well Camden thought. As for identifying flora… Camden pulled a face. The flowers and woods, maybe, but definitely not bushes. Interior decorating is the farthest I went into poking around plants, how much help that’d be for exotics is questionable.

And so the exam went, with Camden keeping time from one station to the next but losing some time at every station as he tried to recall his Uncle’s booming voice. Thankfully, he made it through all the tasks without problem, though stalling a bit at each, but the clipboard-wielding examiner waiting for him at the end provided the real challenge.

“That one,” Camden panted, hands on his hips as he simultaneously caught his breath and bought himself time, “that one should be from some south Asian country, right?”

The examiner said nothing, merely noting something on his clipboard before showing Camden another picture.

“Poplar,” Camden said, recognizing the tree. Susceptible to insect attack, he thought, glancing at the examiner as he again, without a word, noted something down on his clipboard. Well, I’d say I’d get roughly half right. On a good day.

And so it went, Camden half-asking, half-answering the examiner’s questions until finally the clipboard-armed man was satisfied and Camden was allowed to proceed to lunch, during which he inhaled some food and waited patiently until the next part of the exam began.

Interviews, Camden thought, grinning. Finally, something in my corner of the field.

@LuckyBlackCat@Cerces22@Zarkun@Dusksong

@LuckyBlackCat@Dusksong
Camden and Ryan were both taking their exams on the same day. Only Camden was in Washington D.C., USA, and Ryan was in London, England. Despite the pond between them, their exams were being conducted in the exact same format, just the same as everyone else in the world.

With the written exams and practical exams now finished and lunch packed away into hungry bellies, the two young men entered their final exam room, the interview room. Ryan's interviewer was a short stalky man, by the name of Eugene; he seemed rather genuine and welcoming. Camden's interviewer on the other hand was a tall lanky man named Oliver; he was more the 'no-nonsence type', direct and to the point.

Then came the moment of truth, the surprise Pokemon reveal, the moment where they would be judged on their base instinct reaction. For Ryan, his surprise Pokemon would be a small 1 foot tall Cherrim (Overcast Form). For Camden, things wouldn't be as pleaseant, because his Pokemon would be a 5 foot tall Cofagrigus with a malicious aura about it. The interviewers watched their reactions very carefully...

Meanwhile...

@LuckyBlackCat@Dusksong
Mililani and Dana were now sitting through a long winded debreifing given in the English language that they had spent a little more than two months learning. Of course the accents were completely different as Mililani was still in London, England, and Dana had been taken to Ottowa, Canada. Nevertheless, the topics covered were the same. They were being asked to help prepare this world's first Pokemon trainers while a way home was being researched.

When the meeting was over, the two ladies were given brand new Pokeballs for their Pokemon, as well as credit cards. Now able to hide their Pokemon on their person, they could explore their surroundings with a little more freedom, but there would always be at least one government official tailing them at all times...


@LuckyBlackCat@Dusksong
It was the second week of April, on a Tuesday, when Ryan recieved his congradulatory call. The following day, over in Seattle, USA, Camden recieved his. They would then find "The Email". Naturally, the two did not wait long to reply.

Less than an hour later, they recieved another confirmation email containing their plane tickets. Their flights would obviously start at different airports, but the end destination would be the same: Norilsk Airport, Russia....


@LuckyBlackCat@Dusksong@Zarkun@Cerces22
Two white minibusses arrived to pick up the trainers from the airport, while a third cargo van would carry their suitcases. They were only allowed to bring one suitcase each and one carry on. There were no outward complaints about luggage restrictions though. After all, they were all about to become Pokemon trainers! As chance would have it, all four of our would-be heroes were boarded onto the same bus (i.e. Circe, Forest, Ryan, and Camden).

It was a short ride, to their final destination, about ten minutes to be exact. As they stepped out of the busses, they were instructed to line up, military style. The military feel was driven home by a scowling faced man that paced back and forth, waiting on everyone to line up. Behind the man, a few more people were gathered (about twelve). None of these people seemed to be military affiliated.

The very second the last person stepped off the second bus, the man stopped pacing back and forth. With a thick Russian accent, he began to speak, almost shouting, "Okay! My name is Seargent Sokolov! While you are here, I will be your primary intructor! It is my responsibility to make sure you all learn skills to survive in environments like this! We will run twice a day, every day. By the time you leave, you will either want to give up, or you will become strong. This is up to you!

"Lucky for you though, today is free! Behind me, you will find your home for the week. The rooms are small, but you get your own, and they are well made and new. Me? I think you are being spoiled! If it were up to me, we would start running now, and we would sleep in tents!... Okay! That is all for today, but be ready. Tomorrow, at 08:00, we run!" The moment his little "welcoming speach" ended, he turned and marched toward a small building off the the right. A couple of confused individuals began to follow him. He stopped them right away, first pointing to where he was going "My home." and then pointing to the larger building "Your home."

The large building they would be calling home for the next week also seemed to be home for the others that were gathered behind Seargent Sokolov. Some of them already turned around and began to walk off in that direction. Others seemed eager to walk toward the would-be trainers, and say hello...

Fifteen minutes earlier...

@LuckyBlackCat@Dusksong@Zarkun@Cerces22
Liz, Jason, Mililani, and Dana were all in the cafateria when Professor Rowan entered the room. There were about 20 other people in the large space, none of them too excited, pretty quiet. This made the professor's mild mannored announcement easier to hear. "Excuse me everyone. I have just recieved word that the trainer canidates are getting ready to head this way from the airport. They should be here in about fifteen minutes. They will be dropped off just outside. Some of you may want to go out and greet them. After all, they will be your training companions for the next seven weeks."

Professor Rowan himself would wait for the new arrivals in the front lobby to say hello while they got checked into their rooms. The lobby was a wide open communal space that closesly resembled Pokemon Centers in the anime. To the right, a double door connected to the cafeteria. Straight ahead of the main entrance double doors led to the medical wing. To the left, double doors led into a wide open room that seemed to have no other purpose than to be a large room (maybe for battles?). On either side of the medical wing, there were stairs leading up to the rooms that each trainer would be claiming. Floor two was reserved for Pokemon World trainers, but floors three and four were open for the taking.

---

---

U.S. || Washington D.C. || March 2nd

Camden liked Oliver. He was brief, concise, and unusually curt, wasting no time between videos and sometimes not even bothering to ask for a response before moving to the next clip. He frequently interrupted Camden with rehearsed lines and seem to give consideration to neither the frills nor witticisms Camden threw into his responses. In fact, sometimes he didn't even write anything down after hearing Camden's response, which would have been fine if not for the fact that Camden was sure that some of his comments should have warranted at least some amount of amazement.

Okay, Camden hated Oliver and his stuck-up frown, his last-century glasses, and his suit that was a hideous shade of grey that definitely didn’t do anything to help the man’s pallid color, all of which came together in a bleached-looking presentation of a man who looked like he’d lived the past century in a bomb shelter and had only recently managed to find his way out. But that was all beside the point; Camden liked Oliver and would continue to tell himself so until he himself believed it because learning to like the interviewer would help him build rapport. So, of course, the only conclusion to draw from all of his targeted observations was that Oliver, however poorly-dressed, was, in fact, a man of great intellect—so much intellect, in fact, that earthly presentations were beneath him.

Not that I believe that for a second, Camden thought, a politely inquisitive look fixed firmly on his face as he took in a clip of a deer writing in a cloud of purple dust.

“The poor deer,” Camden said, shaking his head. “If only it'd seen that Oddish camouflaged among the ferns.”

Oliver, as always, said and wrote nothing. However, instead of switching the laptop to the next video, he closed it.

“That’s all then, Mr. Montero,” he said, his voice—unpleasantly nasally—echoing faintly in the small room. Camden nodded, making to rise from his seat, but Oliver interrupted him. “One more thing, though—”

“Holy—”

Camden let loose a string of expletives, stumbling back and nearly tripping over his chair as a large golden coffin rose out of the table in front of him, distorting the very air around it with swirling shadows that materialized into two ghostly arms.

Confagrigus, Camden recognized through his curses. It was another second before he cut himself off, remembering where he was and what he was doing. Righting his chair and calmly sitting down, he calmly met Oliver’s bespectacled eyes through the translucent ghost looming threateningly above him.

“You know, this would be more believable if you acted a bit surprised,” he said, figuring the game was up. The earlier interview was clearly just a ruse to relax him so the final test—the surprise appearance of a Pokemon—could play out properly.

No wonder he didn’t bother writing much down, Camden thought, grudgingly impressed.

Oliver adjusted his glasses. “Becoming a trainer would mean that you’ll regularly come face-to-face with Pokemon who will be much less benevolent than our friend here. What makes you think you can handle it?”

“I know what I want,” Camden said, “so it’s just a matter of getting it. I overestimate myself, but when I do, I make sure to live up to my original expectations. I improve my shortcomings and I make certain that I don’t fail a second time. I look towards the future—run and meet it halfway.”

“You’ll run out and meet him,” Oliver said, indicating the Confagrigus, “halfway?”

“With a dark-type Pokemon at my side, yes,” Camden said. “I’m confident, not suicidal.” He glanced at the Confagrigus again, eyes scanning over the detailing on the ghost-type’s sarcophagus shell.

Egyptian-looking, and though a bit tarnished, it’d be stunning after a good polishing, he thought.

In the background, Oliver had fallen silent, but Camden was too absorbed in the Confagrigus to mind. This was the first time he’d been so close to a Pokemon—a real, living Pokemon—and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to sit and let the sight sink in.

Only two hands on this one—hiding the other two in its coffin, perhaps? he wondered.

The Confagrigus, as if just noticing his eyes, grinned wider, baring its teeth. Camden grinned back.

“You should consider using all four hands next time,” he said pleasantly. “It’d make you look bigger.”

The Confagrigus blinked, then uttered forth a few low, dusty screeches that seemed more to fade than echo in the small room. It took Camden a moment to realize that the Cofagrigus had chuckled.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Montero,” Oliver interrupted, his pen quick on his notepad as the Cofagrigus slid back down through the table with one last, slow blink at Camden. “You’ll receive word of your results next month.”

“Thank you as well,” Camden said, a bit disappointed that the Pokemon had gone. He probably wouldn’t see another up close until long after results were announced in April.

As he walked out of the building, Camden was neither confident nor dejected; rather, his thoughts were swirling, and he grinned with giddy anticipation for what the future held.

A ghost-type with Will-O-Wisp or a dark-type with Dark Pulse? Which looks better? he wondered. Should I get both? Or a dual-type, for greater versatility?

---

---

April 11th, 20:46 Local Time || U.S. || Kensington, M.D.

The email’s arrival did not surprise Camden much, having awaited it since the first day of April, but he was a bit miffed when it finally arrived. Clearly, he wasn’t among the first trainers to be chosen, and though he wasn’t surprised since his testing experience hadn’t exactly instilled confidence in him, he was still a bit annoyed that he’d only just made the cut—likely falling, it seemed, around or below average at best.

Well, all that digging away at things like mugwort and buchu better pay off, he thought, sending back a quick response. They better not have encouraged me to memorize a bunch of plants for nothing.

He paused, glancing at the clock and sighing as he realized that he still had a few hours before he ought to sleep. Having decided on his independence, he’d chosen to stay in D.C.rather than going home, but the decision posed a few practical problems. Luckily, he’d been able to find a job at a corner flower shop in one of the suburbs around D.C., where a sympathetic widower was willing to let him live in the spare room in exchange for his help around the shop. His hours were on the longer side—eight in the morning to five in the afternoon, lunch breaks excluded—but Camden couldn’t complain. It was more than he could’ve asked for, and he was also frequently exposed to odd plants the owner brought in, which were usually throwaways from people who bought first and thought second about the work required. Most died quickly after they arrived, since people didn’t tend to realize that their plants were wasting away until it was too late, but those that recovered were moved into the owner’s private collection: a makeshift greenhouse on the balcony, where a small house of cooing pigeons lay, surrounded by a modest tropical garden.

The widower himself was a kind, lonely old man, who regularly attended various clubs around town—book, poetry, and chess included. On Sunday, he would join a group of retirees and bus to the city to tour the free museums. A rough calculation—once a month for twenty-seven years—told Camden that he’d been to the Smithsonian museums over three hundred times, yet the man still claimed they worth visiting.

“They change every few months, those museums,” he’d say, laughing. “We always have a little competition to see who finds the new exhibit first. I’m pretty sharp-eyed for my age, if I do say so myself.”

Camden himself had toured the exhibits multiple times throughout the last month, but more to procrastinate from his gruelling tasks of memorizing the difference between this and that fern than out of interest in the museums themselves. However, he had found himself impressed by some of the exhibits, mostly around the art and history museums; history seemed to whisper up from the oil paintings, and though there was no dust to be found on the historical artifacts on display, their well-worn edges spoke of times past.

Tonight, though, Camden found himself too put out to attempt to continue his studies. No way am I looking at any more cactus concoctions, he thought, stretching before pulling out his 3DS. Time for some more ‘research’ at the Contest Hall. I wonder when I’ll be allowed to actually catch my own Pokemon…

---

---

May 4th, 14:07 Local Time || Russia || Norilsk Airport

Blinking blearily, Camden rolled his suitcase over to where the others were—gathered at the side of the nearby cargo van—before moving to board the bus. The plane ride over had done a number on him; Camden been uncomfortable with heights for as long as could remember, and when the captain turned on the seatbelt light, citing some “slight turbulence,” in the skies, he knew it wasn’t going to be smooth sailing.

Never flying without Ambien again, he thought, rubbing his temples as he filed onto the bus. Once he was in, he sat down in a window seat near the front, pinching the bridge of his nose. Think happy thoughts: you’re going to get a Pokemon soon, and there’s no flying required for that. Both feet firmly on the ground all the way…

If Jason were to ever be forced with choosing between Paris and France, or this god-forsaken country, France would win every time. He made sure that he'd done up the heavy jacket he'd bought properly again before muttering to himself. "Pourquoi les gens vivent-ils dans ces conditions volontairement..." He had almost wholeheartedly embraced the French language, taking time to learn the English language only in so much that most everyone they would meet would at the very least have a basic understanding of it. He appraised those around him, noting they were all trainers as well, and pretty sure that, at some point in his hunt for the legendary Latios, he had met some of them.

Still, as he adjusted his sword on his hip so he could sit more comfortably, he kept to himself, allowing Lucky out to get a feel for the auras of those around him. Rowan came in some time after and informed them that their human charges, and soon to be counterparts, would be arriving soon. He left shortly after and, after some hushed discussion amongst the others, several trainers headed outside, Jason among them. No harm in meeting them. Always good to know who could be tripping into my way once I set off to see if Latios is in this world. He observed the Russian drill sergeant yell at them and then waited, watching the two groups begin to mingle.

---

Even as the buses pulled up, Forest knew what they were. Not only that, he was having flashbacks to when he'd gone to Fort Sill for his own basic training. Course, that had been in hot and humid Oklahoma, this was nice, frozen and freezing Russia. Which was NOT a trade up if he was being honest. The ride had been uneventful, going from the airport to their temporary home for the week. Disembarking was quick enough, but the moment he stepped on the line, he snapped to attention, knowing what was coming.

And sure enough, the man started in on the classic drill sergeant shout, though it was with a heavy Russian accent. They were told what they needed to know and shown where they were staying, and then the man left. The group of people behind him were hesitant for all of ten seconds before they moved towards the people of Group 3. Forest himself hung back a bit, trying to get a feel for who they were before he spotted the pokeballs. From there and with a grin, he just tried to find one he was OK with talking to.

@Balthazar007

May 2020 Russia Liz

Liz sat in the cafeteria leaning her head in her hand. She lazily relaxed while waiting on any news while she took in the other trainers. They all looked well versed in travels and battling. She wanted to battle them to see how she stacked up, but she didn't have her main team, and Ade and Hades had very little real battle experience.

A man named Professor Rowan entered the room, she faintly recognized him from the TV show this world produced on pokemon. He announced that the prospective trainers had arrived and that the Pokemon world trainers could get a look at their future partners. Circe casually walked out the door and leaned against the wall, she called out Hephaestus who took position next to her looking around.

"Keep an eye out, one of these people will be our traveling partner." Hephaestus nodded his head silently and kept his eyes open.

May 2020 Russia Circe

Circe had her headphones on, Avenge Sevenfold blasting away. All she could see was snow. She had to get past this trial to take the next step to owning a Pokemon. After traveling for what seemed like hours but was actually most likely 20 minutes, they stood outside in a line. A stringent man paced back and forth, and some people stood behind him. A man with a sword, the woman from D.C. and a Monferno next to her. Circe stared at the Monferno, to see one up close was awesome for her. Then the Russian drill sergeant began chastising them.

And just as suddenly they were dismissed, with the promise of a big run tomorrow. She walked into the barracks and tossed her stuff down and went right to sleep.

---

Canada || Toronto, Ontario || January 13th

“I am a Po-kee-mon tray-ner,” Dana enunciated, brows furrowed as she stared intently at the “U-two” video playing on the screen of the laptop she’d been given. Her efforts at studying had yielded a slow trudge forwards, which she was grudgingly forced to accept. The only upside was that all she had right now was time; confined to her room, she had an excuse to pour daylight into the slow process of memorizing words and phrases. She’d chosen to focus on English, of course; the number of people who spoke French didn’t even begin to touch the massive population of English-speakers, and Dana had little mind to learn something she deemed less than productive. And, though it’d been years since she’d done any actual studying, she pushed onwards, since progress was progress, though slower than was desirable.

“Po-kemon trainer,” Dana repeated, pausing the video. “Hello, I am a Pokemon trainer.”

---

---

Canada || Toronto, Ontario || January 26th

“Small espresso and plain bagel,” Dana said to the cashier, tacking on a “please” after a brief pause. Though her Pokemon might have been confined to her hotel room, her person was not, and neither was her Duskull, who slunk through the walls, invisible except for a faint pair of red eyes showing every now and then to let Dana know he was still there.

“Not from around here, eh?” the cashier asked, entering her order. “How long have you been here?”

“One month,” Dana said after a moment’s thought.

“Well, hope you like it here,” the cashier said, handing Dana her order. “Have a good day.”

“Thank you,” Dana said, walking out the shop. Her English was coming along fine, and though she was sure she was still reading some of the phonetics incorrectly—dragging out or cutting short sounds here and there—she was moving at a pace that she could be satisfied with.

Another month or so and I should be able to hold actual conversation, Dana thought, pace brisk.

---

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Canada || Toronto, Ontario || February 11th

“Disturbed” only just began to cover how Dana felt when she finally tried her hand at one of Earth’s Pokemon games. It was as if she’d lived in some sort of story but come to life. Her mind had moved to reject the notion of her possibly being a fictional character—her life and memories vivid in her whirling mind—yet here was the proof, lying in front of her in the form of a curious handheld device, bland text and soothing colors over pixelated recreations of Pokemon species she’d given no second thought to.

Does it have no concept of dodging? she wondered in annoyance as her in-game starter—a Rowlet—was knocked out by a wild Ledyba. The level system in the game was a crude simplification of actual Pokemon battles, and Dana didn’t appreciate the fact that she was forced to stay on the routes, prevented by the game’s mechanics from venturing into the trees.

How can anyone stand playing this? she thought, snapping the device closed and setting it down with an irritated sigh.

“Duskull,” she said, trying out her Pokemon’s name in English. “Is the Professor in?”

The Duskull blinked twice at his trainer.

“Let me know when he gets back,” Dana said curtly, turning to face the window again. That her hotel room had a good view of the city was the only reason why Dana wasn’t inclined to go and find her own quarters; from her window, she was able to remind herself daily of her newfound alienness.

They live neither Pokemon nor trainers, getting by purely with what their technology can grind out, she thought, her eyes skirting down smooth skyscrapers and across bustling streets before she finally averted them, turning back to her laptop.

---

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Canada || Toronto, Ontario || February 22nd

“I’ll get a Caffe Americano, medium, and a whole wheat bagel to go, please,” Dana said, reciting her practiced order to the cashier, who noted it down diligently.

“Will that be all?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dana said, pulling out the cash that she'd been given upon request. News had come of a March briefing to be hosted by Professor Elm, where the main language would be English rather than their native language. In response, Dana had sped up her schedule, pushing back her research into Earth’s many societies—through pictures, mainly, but falling back on a dictionary devised by the professors when necessary—to focus on mastering the language first. Her accent was still heavy, and but she would be comprehensive when by the date of the briefing.

“Here you are,” the cashier said, handing Dana her order. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Dana said, exiting the shop, the faint red glow on the wall disappearing into the ground after her.

---

---

Canada || Toronto, Ontario || March 1st

“So, any questions?” Professor Elm asked the meeting drew to a close. The room shifted uncomfortably before someone spoke up. Dana, though, had tuned out. In fact she’d frozen completely; a possibility had just occurred to her, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Have all the trainers been transported to Earth?” she asked once the professor had answered the last question.

“Well, there’s no way to say for certain,” Elm said, adjusting his glasses, “but I would expect so, yes.”

Dana stayed silent through the rest of the meeting, her mind running through distant memories of long-past times and faraway places.

---

---

Canada || Algonquin Provincial Park || March 14th

Having been forced to spend two months grinding away at a language—sitting around and doing nothing had never been an option—she was now somewhere close to fluent. She, therefore, had managed some semblance of productiveness, however dull and slow, but the same couldn’t be said for her Pokemon; though she’d done what she could in her hotel room—teaching them the necessary amount of English and having them practice creative exercises daily—she knew that being cooped up had done little for their actual battling prowess.

“Ivysaur, Razor leaf. Clefable, Disarming voice,” Dana said, her Pokemon jumping into action immediately after she’d delivered her commands. Her Duskull drifted beside her, silently observant. The morning air around was cool and crisp, reminding Dana that the last time she’d been here, she’d been unable to communicate and completely unaware of what had happened. Now, though, she knew exactly where she was and what she had to do.

In another day or two they should be near battle-ready, Dana thought, watching as the Clefable, knocked back by the Ivysaur’s Razor Leaf, picked itself up to fire forth a Disarming Voice. It should have been able to dodge that. They’re evenly matched in speed.

“Again!” she called. Again, the Ivysaur threw a Razor Leaf at the Clefable.

---

---

Canada || Toronto, Ontario || March 19th

Dana slammed down her laptop screen, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her Duskull floated over, hovering silently at her side.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head and sighing.. “It’s nothing.”

Shouldn’t she be happy that her searches had returned nothing? Such meant that she had one less thing to worry about, one less problem to deal with.

---

---

Canada || Toronto, Ontario || March 25th

“Sentret, Furret,” Dana read. The sheer number of Pokemon names she was set to memorize made her head spin, but she pushed on. “Tyrogue, Hitmontop, Hitmonlee, Hitmonchamp.”

---

---

Canada || Algonquin Provincial Park || April 13th

“Again,” Dana said, sending her Combusken and Scizor back into the woods. They were to catch a deer and bring it back alive, which they’d successfully done a few times already after some initial ugly results.

Her Duskull drifted out of the ground before her, blinking twice.

“Tell me when he returns,” Dana said, dismissing the Duskull, who sank back into the ground. She’d known about her tail for a while. Sometimes there were two, but there was usually just one person shadowing her. Part of the reason why she’d chosen to be so careless with her Combusken and Scizor was to test whether or not her hidden follower had a mind to expose themselves. So far, the answer had been no; they’d instead helpfully cleaned up after her, disappearing mutilated deer from the forest grounds after she’d gone. Of course, she made sure that she found an isolated area for her Pokemon to practice, lest some civilian get involved, but all the same, she didn’t like the fact that no one had thought to inform her of her shadow.

They should know I’m watching them, Dana thought, watching as her Combusken returned with a knocked-out deer raised above his head, her Scizor following close behind. Not assuming so would be very careless of them.

---

---

Russia || Near Norilsk Airport || May 4th

At the announcement that the to-be trainers had arrived, Dana rose from her seat, turning to head upstairs to her quarters. Greeting the newcomers sounded like a dreadful waste of time, seeing as they’d be training together for the next few weeks, during when there would doubtlessly be time for socialization. And, if they failed to acquaint themselves with each other then, it probably just wasn’t meant to be.

For the sake of going home, Dana thought as she walked away.

---

---

---

---

---

May 4th || Russia || Near Norilsk Airport

At the announcement of their arrival, Camden shook off what queasiness was left and got off the bus, taking in the barren, snowy landscape. Having lived in Seattle all his life, he’d grown accustomed to mild weather and a chance of sparse snowfall during the winter. However, it seemed Russia would be freezing temperatures and chilly snowstorms all year round, seeing as the snow looked fresh despite it being May already.

Their drill sergeant, Sergeant Sokolov, promptly left after establishing himself, leaving the group to their own devices. Thankfully, another group arrived shortly—a group of trainers, judging by their Pokeballs. Camden’s eyes grew wide as he scanned them over, trying to guess at which ones had experience with Pokemon contests.

The first two months had been a nightmare for Mililani. The worst part hadn't been recovering from the concussion, which had thankfully only been mild, or the gruellingly intensive English lessons. It had been the separation from her only friends, caged "for their own good and for the safety of the public" or so she'd been told. Despite the officials' reassurance that they were alive and uninjured thanks to their timely intervention, and to Naia and Auoli managing to restrain a frantic Keahi, her nagging worry grew each day.

Finally, though, she was to see them again. She held on to the thought as she sat through Professor Sycamore's speech, hands clenching into fists in her lap.

Preserve the ecosystem? Act in the best interest of Pokemon? Oh, for sure. Like she hadn't heard all that before. How had these professors managed to learn English so quickly anyway? Smart as they were, wouldn't learning a language take more than a few days? Mililani's scowl deepened as she thought over two possibilities. One, Aether Foundation had royally screwed up and let this Ultra Wormhole thing get out of hand. Two, there was something the professors weren't letting on. Something they wanted to drag her and many other trainers into.

She sighed as she stood up once the speech finished. Technically, she didn't have to go along with this, but it would feel irresponsible not to. She'd need to think this over.

The only thing that lifted her mood was receiving the six capsules and the credit card on the way out. She hurried after a man who showed her into a large room, a rarely-seen grin lighting up her face at the sight of her companions, released from their cages one by one.

Naia squealed, wrapping her flippers around her trainer. Palila danced over with joy, pom-poms waving, and not even Ohanna could contain her excitement as she nuzzled Mililani. Auoli drifted towards her, the worry etched into his face giving way to serenity, and Keahi ran up to her with a cry of relief. Giving a little squeak, Liko rested on her shoulder.

"Hey, everyone." Mililani's voice trembled, tears forming in her eyes. "It's been so long!" She hugged Naia back, letting the other Pokemon gather round, not caring that Liko had started braiding flowers into her hair. Whatever happened, she and her Pokemon would make sure to stick together.



Leaning against the headboard in a spacious room, Mililani frowned at the TV. She wasn't normally one for luxury, something that reminded her of her father's hotel, and the airs and graces he put on. She'd needed to check in to a larger room to accommodate the considerable size of the Drampa currently curled around the bed, though. No way was she keeping her team stuck in Pokeballs for longer than she had to, after their recent experience.

"Damn you, Lusamine," she spat, thumping her fist down on the duvet as scene after scene of chaos played across the screen. Rampages, destroyed towns, injured humans and Pokemon alike. Aether Foundation had to be behind this, she was almost sure. A different report started, showing a bunch of aspiring trainers bubbling with enthusiasm as they left a testing centre, reminding her of her other theory. She shuddered at the thought of all those people getting screwed over.

As Naia cuddled up next to her, she petted the Brionne on the head while staring into space, mulling over what to do. Grimacing at footage of a canine creature - a dog, as the locals called them - attacking a Skitty, she knew she only had one option. She'd once dedicated her life to protecting Pokemon and their ecosystems, and she couldn't exactly give up on that, especially not now. With a sigh, she picked up her phone, entering the contact number she'd been given.

Admitting her acceptance of the duty through gritted teeth, she resolved to remain on her guard the entire time.



She couldn't believe she'd gone and signed up for this, Mililani thought, sipping her coffee as she sat at a distance from the other trainers. She cast her gaze to the window every so often, tense from a mix of apprehension and the sub-zero temperature she'd had to endure. The weather in London had been bad enough, but it was nothing compared to the stinging cold of Russia.

Palila displayed the opposite attitude about having arrived here, dancing to try and cheer up her trainer as well as Naia, who gave the other people wary glances while curled up under the table. Since her devolution, all progress the Water type had made with her confidence seemed to have been undone.

"It'll be alright, Naia," Mililani reassured the Brionne, leaning down and tickling her behind the ears. "I'll make sure it'll be alright." Even to the trainer, her own tone lacked certainty, and she hoped she'd be able to keep her promise.

Looking up at the sound of footsteps, she found herself face to face with Professor Rowan, who announced that their travelling partners to be had just arrived. She rolled her eyes as she stood up, letting out a groan. "Come on," she called to her Pokemon. "Let's get the meetings and greetings over with." In a flash of red light, she let out Ohanna, who took in her surroundings.

"Well, seeing as our newest adventure's officially started," she grumbled, "could you keep a look out for anything suspicious?" The Lucario nodded, sticking by her side along with the other two Pokemon as Mililani zipped up her new winter coat and stormed out.

Icy wind whipped at the trainer's face, making her shiver despite the many layers she'd wrapped herself up in. If she ever got home, she'd never complain about the heat of Alolan summers again. Sweeping her hair out of her eyes, she slowed her trudge through the snow at the sight of the gathering.

With an excited squawk, Palila darted towards the group, wildly shaking her pom-poms as she gestured for her trainer to come over. Mililani huffed through clenched teeth, arms folded as she drew closer. Now she really did have no choice but to introduce herself.

---

This was going to be absolute cakewalk for him, Ryan thought, exhilaration flooding him as he sprinted through the field. He clambered over walls and under bars just as he'd done many times before, but this was different. This would allow him to live a dream he'd only thought possible in games.

A confident smile crossed his face as he pulled a rope into a clove hitch knot around a post before any of the nine others in his group could. "Take note," he said, tugging at the end. "This is how you do it." Two of his fellow trainers in the making scowled. Why did they have to look so unimpressed? He was just helping, getting them to take his example.

By the time the end was in sight, his confidence was soaring. Running ahead of the group, he gripped a rope hanging above a muddy pool, preparing to push off. Just as he did, the most magnificent sight he'd seen yet caught his eye. In the distance, a dinosaur-like creature rose and glided above the trees on leafy wings. A Tropius. He'd seen a Tropius with his own eyes...

His foot slipped. Clinging to the rope like a cat that had climbed a curtain and didn't know how to get down, he wobbled across the pool before coming to a stop halfway. A second later, he dropped, finding himself up to his waist in thick squelchy mud.

Trying to ignore his teammates roaring with laughter, he crawled out, dripping everywhere as he staggered the last few paces to the end. Even the examiner seemed to struggle not to chuckle. It was in a much more deflated tone that Ryan listed the names of the plants he'd seen. The things he'd been taught by his mother about wildlife from childhood would redeem the situation... wouldn't they?

At lunch break, he quickly washed and changed into the spare set of clothes he'd brought along. He'd expected mud, just not quite this amount. Hopefully the earlier written test would make up for that little mishap. The examiners would surely be impressed at the way he'd matched up Pokedex entries to some of the most overlooked Pokemon.

Once again presentable or close to it, he strode into the interview room to be greeted with a warm smile by a man who introduced himself as Eugene. As he answered the man's questions, Ryan's self-assurance started to recover. He'd been expecting a formal interview by a stuffy schoolteacher-like person, so a relaxed chat was a welcome surprise.

Despite Eugene's warning that some videos may be disturbing, Ryan leaned in, eager to watch the scenes that played across the screen the interviewer presented. His eyes widened at the first - a flock of Fletchlings perched on a branch, their songs a melodious chorus. "That's going to add a whole new dimension to birdwatching," he commented, before wincing at the next two videos. A Liepard devouring a lump of bloodstained feathers that was probably once a pigeon, and a team of firefighters as well as a group wielding tranquiliser guns dealing with the aftermath of a Ponyta herd's rampage through a grassy field.

"Wow, brutal," he said. "But I guess that's why trainers are needed. And I know this isn't going to be an easy road, but trust me, I can handle it."

Eugene nodded, turning his kindly eyes from the screen to the aspiring trainer. "Now, before you go, there's just one more thing..." As a red light flared, Ryan turned. To his side, on the floor, stood a Cherrim, petals folded.

"Hey, little one..." Ryan stood up, speaking softly as he crouched. In this form, Cherrim tended to be quiet and timid. He held out his hand, waiting for the flower Pokemon to edge forward, before gently petting its sepal. The Grass type squeaked, rubbing its head against his fingers.

The time he got to spend with the Cherrim didn't seem long enough before Eugene announced he was afraid he'd have to recall it, but thanked him and wished him luck on his results. Soon enough, Ryan reminded himself as he left the building with his head held high, he'd have Pokemon of his own. The bag of filthy clothes weighed on him, though, and his brother's words from a few days ago came back to him. This wouldn't be as easy as the games.



As he scrolled through his mother's blog, marvelling at all the Pokemon she'd managed to get snapshots of, Ryan's stomach tightened with anticipation and worry. Why hadn't he heard back yet? Surely, aside from the mud puddle incident, he'd done pretty well? They wouldn't deny him this opportunity, would they?

The ringtone of his phone snapped his attention from the laptop screen. As he answered, the caller's announcement flooded him with relief. He'd passed. As if there had been any doubt he would in the first place.

It wasn't long afterwards that the email arrived in his inbox. His high spirits dampened slightly as he took in the message - sure, he'd done pretty well, above average even, but why hadn't he been in the top few? Oh well. He was going to become a Pokemon trainer, and that was what mattered.

He grabbed his phone again, eager to tell his friends and family the good news.



Even with the lingering effects of jet lag, Ryan was buzzing as he hauled his suitcase off the minibus. The cold didn't bother him; in fact, the crisp air of a new place fuelled his excitement. He took his place in the line, listening intently as the dour-faced instructor barked announcements.

The corners of Ryan's mouth lifted a little. Running twice a day? No problem. He wouldn't even have minded tents, though admittedly, he wasn't going to complain about the more comfortable lodgings. The seargent could treat the group like weaklings all he wanted. He'd prove that musclehead wrong.

Just a few seconds after the seargent marched away, a group of trainers arrived on the scene, three of whom stood out. A girl whose vibrant pink hair and alternative style clothing seemed to tell the world not to mess with her, a white-haired guy with a sword strapped to his waist, and a dark-skinned girl who glared out from under a mop of pink and blue tresses as she hung back from the others. All around them, a myriad of creatures the trainer-to-be had never seen in the flesh until now followed. Two Lucarios, a Monferno, a Brionne, and an Oricorio who zipped right over, chirping in delight as it waved its pom-poms in a frenzy.

"Hey," Ryan said, strolling over to the newcomers. "To think I'm actually getting to meet Pokemon trainers."

@LuckyBlackCat@Cerces22@Zarkun@Dusksong

15:00 Local Time

The last few days had been hard on everyone. As promised, they ran twice a day in the bitter cold, even the trainers from the Pokemon world, at least most of them. Professor Rowan had spoken with them, strongly encouraging them to participate in all activities with their planet Earth counterparts. Even still, a handful of Pokemon world trainers (5 to be exact) were not very cooperative. The most out spoken of the group was easily a young lady named Julia who refused to leave the main facility for any reason at all, nevertheless a three mile run.

As the group arrived back from their first jog of the day, she sat in the lobby, bundled up underneath a cozy brown blanket watching something on a tablet. A few people were lagging behind, leaving the door open longer than she would have liked. "O! M! G! Can you people shut that damn door already!?"

A loud argument erupted immediately between her and another girl. "Shut your ugly face! At least you have the option to stay behind!" The second girl was from Earth. She complained the loudest every time they went for a run. Honestly, the two girls were more alike than not, but that didn't mean they had to get along.

The sound of a gunshot and breaking glass snapped them out of it. Surprised, everyone looked over to where the sound came from. A few feet to the left of the main doorway, Sergeant Sokolov stood with his gun pointed out a window and down to the ground. The last of the stragglers walked through the doorway very cautiously. As if nothing had happened, he put away his gun and began to speak, "Okay, today we have new plan."

Just then, Professor Rowan busted through the double doors that led to the medical wing (also the laboratory wing). "What in the world was that!?" Slowly, silently, heads began to turn toward Sergeant Sokolov. Without a word, the man shrugged his shoulders as if to ask, "What?". Professor Rowan shook his head in disappointment, but then, after a deep sigh, continued speaking. "No matter, I suppose. Alright then everyone. I was going to wait until after lunch, but since I'm here now, I have an exciting announcement to make. Our new Pokedexes have arrived! I'll be handing them out after lunch. And that's not all. With the help of this new technology, we're going to go searching for Pokemon!"

After the surprise announcement, Professor Rowan exited from the way he came, but not before shooting a serious look over to Sergeant Sokolov. A faint smile flickered across Sokolov's face but only for a second. "Do not think you not run today!" He said, addressing the excited crowd. "We look for Pokemon, AND we run!"

3 Hours Later... 18:10 (Local Time)...
In the main lobby, Professor Rowan walked everyone through the features on their new Pokedex. It was basically a glorified satellite phone, designed to work in any environment, even underground. The greatest feature about the device was definitely the area scanning feature. With direct access to other Pokedexes and a link to the internet, the device could give advice on which direction to travel.

According to the data: about 20 miles to the South East, Clefairy sightings were confirmed by locals up in the mountains. 10 miles to the north, there were unconfirmed reports of some kind of ICE-type Pokemon near the large lakes. 12 miles to the south, Paras sightings were confirmed sporadically across the land. 6 miles to the west and slightly south, wild Stantler were spotted in small heards walking across fields. And in nearly all directions, wild Foongus were spotted close by to bodies of water where the grounds were muddy.

In most cases, there would be shuttle mini-busses to take them most of the way to their chosen destination. The only two exceptions being: one, the northern path to the unconfirmed ICE-type Pokemon, because there were no roads to take, and two, the Foongus, because there was no need; a few people even recalled seeing a Foongus on one of their runs.

"Oh, and one last thing." One of Professor Rowan's aids walked up beside him holding a large box. "I have three Pokeballs for each of you. Should you find yourself lucky enough to be in throwing distance, feel free to give it a shot. It's simple, just push the expansion button and give it a toss. Maybe you'll get lucky and catch your first Pokemon. But now, the question remains. Which direction are we traveling? Let's take a vote. Put your hand up if..."

(Quick Note: In the future, simply mention that you're scanning the area, and give a good description of your location, or give me exact coordinates to your character. I will respond with an IC post that has an "According to the data:" paragraph that shows where to travel to find nearby Pokemon.)

@Balthazar007

May 7th FUCKING STILL IN RUSSIA Curce

Circe came in the door just as the slave driver Sergeant Sokolov fired a gun outside to stop the bickering of two other people. She bounced around about to say something when Professor Rowen walked in the door hurriedly. After he questioned what had happened he excitedly handed out Pokedexs and Pokeballs. Circe laughed to herself, POKEBAllS AND A POKEDEX OF HER OWN!! Now she could catch her own pokemon finally!! Now she looked around joking for an old man to explain how to capture pokemon. The professor explained that there were several Pokemon sightings around, and while she knew they had to catch them all the unknown ice pokemon was to good of a lure to pass up.

"I vote for the ice pokemon!! Let's head out now!!" She looked to the seven other trainers she had bonded with over the past few days, she was still learning their names, but they talked here and there.

-------------------

Liz

Liz sat quietly listening to the events that had transpired quickly, rolling her eyes hard at the nonsense of it all. The little girl Circe she called herself bubbled and bounced around. She suggested going north, for such an energetic girl, she did have a dark side, she was what this world called a Gothic person.

I bet I know what she hopes to be out there. She followed everyone as they got ready to go. About a hour or two later they were deep in trudging through snow heading towards the unknown ice pokemon location, all wondering what Pokemon could be out there.

@Balthazar007

(If I understand this right than you will want this...

69°49'50"N 88°29'11"E)

About a hour or two later they were deep in trudging towards the unknown ice pokemon location, all wondering what Pokemon could be out there.

Professor Rowan brought up the rear of the pack, visibly struggling, while Sergeant Sokolov kept up the pace from the front. The Professor's struggle only added more merit to the conditioning that they had all received in the last few days. Despite all this, the man still had a slight smile on his face. He just had to be there when they encountered their first Pokemon.

Many people were beginning to get discouraged. "We've been running for hours! We've went about ten miles already right?" A young man complained. "I thought the dumb thing said we'd find that ICE-type by now."

Through winded breath, Professor Rowan let out a fatherly laugh, "Good observation young man. But- but we can't expect the Pokemon to stay in one- one place. Can we now?"

That's when IT appeared, a wild Foongus. Running on the left side of the pack, Forest was the first person to spot the creature. It was hidden behind a tiny bush, but the top of it's head was clearly visible. Others behind him were quick to follow his line of sight, and soon the whole group had stopped to watch.

(Quick Note: The Foongus is level 10. A standard Pokeball has a catching power of 10 (if you don't battle the Pokemon) and a catching power of 20 (if you defeat the Pokemon in battle). Since Forest doesn't have a Pokemon yet, he has no other choice but to throw a Pokeball as is and hope for the best, IF he chooses to use one of his Pokeballs on this Pokemon.)

It took him three days to acclimatize to the cold weather, but it was still pretty damn cold, even for him. All the same, there was never a complaint from the young former Guardsman, who was almost always at the front of the pack with a few of the more in shape Earth trainers and the Pokemon trainers who bothered to actually try. The hike so far had reminded him of the hikes he'd gone on with his Young Mens group from his church, and he enjoyed it, until about the five mile mark where people started complaining.

For the most part, he tuned it out, figuring eventually they'd realize that the more complaining they did, the more exhausted they'd get from wasting their breath. And here they were, ten miles in now, and they were not just continuing to complain, but he was almost positive they had gotten louder. "We've been running for hours! We've went about ten miles already right?" A young man complained. "I thought the dumb thing said we'd find that ICE-type by now." Forest opened his mouth to lay into the guy who'd been bitching close to the longest, but Rowan beat him to the punch, explaining how real Pokemon acted versus what they'd all chased down in the games.

I swear, it's like these dumb asses expected us to just play Pokemon the Game: Real Life Edition. As he shook his head, he spotted something out of place in the snow, the top of a mushroom that didn't quite fit with all the different types he knew and he realized after a moments thought it was a Foongus. Being from a generation that Forest didn't know as well, it took him time to remember the name, and it certainly wasn't what he'd wanted for his first Pokemon, he pulled out one of the balls and tapped the button, expanding it. "No time like the present I guess. Here we go." Pulling back, the young man flung the ball side armed at the mushroom Pokemon, smacking it on the head before it turned into a beam of red light and got pulled into the ball, which then fell to the snow and began the classic wiggle sequence.

...Pulling back, the young man flung the ball side armed at the mushroom Pokemon, smacking it on the head before it turned into a beam of red light and got pulled into the ball, which then fell to the snow and began the classic wiggle sequence.

The Pokeball rolled back and forth three times. During that time, a crowd gathered around, sharing in the anticipation.

Then the dreaded sound that would haunt any Pokemon trainer's dreams, "POP!". The Foongus escaped, but didn't run away. Confused, it hopped out from behind the bush. Standing in front of the large crowd, the little creature was hit with a case of stage fright.

Very carefully, Professor Rowan spoke, "Bad luck Mr. Forest, but the little guy didn't run away, if you'd like to try another ball..."

Result: No Luck

(Quick Note: This post extends your dibs on trying to catch this Pokemon by another 24 IRL hours.)

It made the third shake and Forest found himself holding his breath. For real? I caught it on my first try? And, as happened with the first two hundred pokeballs he expended on trying to catch Moltres in Fire Red, after the third wiggle, the mushroom Pokemon escaped. "Go figure." He'd had no way to weaken it first anyways, so he couldn't say he was surprised.

When Rowan said he could try again, the ex-Guardsman shook his head. "Someone else feel free, I'm saving these other two for the Ice Type. Stupid damned mushroom."

"Good going, Ohanna." Panting, Mililani turned away from the punching bag to her Lucario, who gave her own bag one more hook before stepping back and grinning up at her trainer. The Fighting type didn't seem tired in the slightest. "Heh... Maybe I shouldn't have tried to compete with a Lucario," she said with a breathless laugh. "But how about one more round?" This was so much better than slaving away in that Arceus-forsaken Russian weather with that overexcitable bunch who didn't have the first idea what they were doing, and a good way of working off pent-up irritation...

Which of course surged right back at the sound of babbling and footsteps, followed by an argument. Then, an unexpected noise made both her and Ohanna whirl round. A gunshot.

"What in the name of the Island Guardians...?" Mililani rushed from the training room to the lobby, where the seargent stood pointing his gun at a broken window. His and Professor Rowan's announcement stirred up mixed emotions. Soon, it would be time to do what they were all here for in the first place, help the stranded wild Pokemon, although Mililani couldn't help but wonder what these upcoming trainers' idea of helping would be.

...

Julia and the Earth girl weren't the only ones to butt heads. Since getting a Pokedex, one girl who seemed to have modelled herself on one of those Hex Maniac trainers from Hoenn and Kalos, complete with tangled black wig, kept yammering away at anyone within earshot that this was the best thing that had ever happened on boring old Earth.

"So... Let me get this right," Mililani snapped, hands on hips. By now she had a fairly decent, if still heavily accented, mastery of English. "Towns got destroyed, trainers and Pokemon are stuck here with no idea how the fuck to get back, people DIED... and you're saying it's the best thing that ever happened?!"

The girl, who called herself Lilith but the officials addressed as Laura, snickered. "Pfff, that's their problem. And just think!" Her purple contact lenses shone. "Maybe that means more Ghost types for us!"

Stunned speechless, Mililani could only think of one thing to do. She stepped forward, raising her hand. Before the slap could hit home, a white flipper settled on her shoulder. "Rinaaa," Naia soothed, with a gentle pull. Mililani took a deep, shuddering breath. Then, both girls turned round at the sound of a cough, finding themselves faced with a rather unamused assistant of Professor Rowan.

"May I suggest that both of you rein it in if you want to stay on the project," the assistant warned. "As you'll undoubtedly know, there's only so much Seargent Solokov will put up with. Besides, Professor Rowan's speech is about to begin."

Seething, Mililani stormed towards the lobby. If she got kicked out, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. "Can you believe we're stuck with this bunch?" she grumbled to Naia, whose blue eyes were wide with concern. One good thing that had happened here, at least, was thanks to the training facilities and people willing to battle, Naia had once again become a Primarina.

When the Professor followed his lecture by asking the crowd to decide which Pokemon to find, Mililani raised her hand. She knew the question had been meant for the Earth people, but she had some input of her own. "I say either the Grass types or the Stantlers should be our main concern," she announced. Mushroom Pokemon generally dealt with the cold better than most Grass types did, but temperatures below zero were still a major issue. "Most Grass types will have trouble surviving here, and the Stantlers are surely struggling to find food..."

A chorus of voices drowned out her suggestion, settling the vote. The Ice type. Mililani rolled her eyes. Of course. Of freaking course everyone would go for the one that could actually thrive best here, just because it seemed to be one of the more sought after types.

"Remind me again why I signed up for this," she muttered to Naia under her breath.

...

In truth, she knew why she'd signed up. As she reluctantly jogged with the trainers-to-be, Ohanna ran by her side, scanning the area for any sickly or distressed Pokemon. When the group came to a sudden stop, the Lucario's effortless sprinting nearly caused her to crash into the guy in front - not what anyone would want a Pokemon with three protruding spikes to do.

"Careful there." With her hand on Ohanna's shoulder, Mililani peered ahead. Sure enough, they'd encountered a Pokemon. Not one she'd ever seen in person before, but she'd seen enough pictures to know what the tiny red-and-white mushroom was. A Foongus.

As one man tried and failed to catch it, Mililani tensed. What if it didn't want to be caught? It hadn't tried attacking or fleeing, and yes, it was better off under a trainer's care than out in the cold, but would said trainer see things that way? Or was everyone so hyped up about catching Pokemon that they'd forgotten why they were meant to do so in the first place?

---

Ryan had managed to keep a steady pace near the front for most of the run, spurred on by the anticipation of getting his first Pokemon. He still could hardly believe it, three Pokeballs and a Pokedex of his own. His brother would be so jealous. Now, though, his muscles began to complain, unused to quite this amount of jogging despite his regular outdoor activities. How much longer would the search take?

As it turned out, it barely took any longer at all. The guy he'd been struggling not to lag behind approached something, the rest of the group gathering round. Ryan advanced, noticing something red standing out against the snow. Something that looked like a Pokeball partially hidden behind a bush, but as he drew closer, he recognised the Pokemon that had popped up several times during his search for items in Pokemon Black.

So that was what a Foongus looked like in real life. As odd as it was to see a mushroom with a face, that pattern was rather striking. Since its introduction in Generation Five, Ryan had found it rather underappreciated, and it turned out the guy who'd spotted it shared that view as he flung a Pokeball.

... Or not. The moment the Foongus burst out, the guy gave up, dismissing it as a "stupid damned mushroom."

Remembering the Pokedex entry about its toxic spores, Ryan kept a safe distance, but the mushroom Pokemon showed no signs of hostility. Instead, it hopped out, stopping in its tracks when it saw the crowd.

"Hey, it's alright," Ryan reassured it, slowly approaching and crouching down. "I know this must be confusing, but it'll be better for you to come with one of us than stay stuck out here." Hoping he'd managed to calm the Foongus somewhat, he reached for a Pokeball. "Well, here goes!" Thankful for all the after-school basketball practice he'd had as a teen, he threw the capsule. It hit its target, which disappeared in a flare of red light.

Ryan watched the Pokeball rocking on the ground, tension growing. Would he be the first of the group to get a Pokemon?

... Thankful for all the after-school basketball practice he'd had as a teen, he threw the capsule. It hit its target, which disappeared in a flare of red light.

Ryan watched the Pokeball rocking on the ground, tension growing. Would he be the first of the group to get a Pokemon?

As the red light began to engulf the small mushroom Pokemon, a small smile appeared on it's face. The ball then hit the ground and began to shake. Once. Twice. Three times. And then nothing. All was quiet.

The crowd stood in silence for a moment, before Professor Rowan spoke up through chattering teeth. "Congratulations Mr. Ryan. It- it looks like you're the proud n- new trainer of a Foongus."

It was a quiet celebration with only a few others offering praise, but most people were too cold to speak. Then came Sergeant Socolov's steady voice, "We need to move to keep warm. Now." He then turned and began to run, the rest of the crowd soon followed.

Result: Congratulations!

---

Twenty Minutes Later...
There was no more complaining, only silence as they ran across the desolate tundra. Then, without much warning Sargeant Socolov slowed down to a stop and spoke. "Okay. We go back now."

A young man in the crowd began to speak. "But wh- what about the- the ICE-type Po- Pokemon? We- we haven't f- found-"

Sargeant Socolov did not let him finish. "Quiet, we have run long enough. We go back now." Slowly, Sargeant Socolov walked right through the middle of the group to take the lead once more from the other side. But just as he reached the other side of the group, he stopped. "Well, look at that."

About twenty yards away a wild Alolan Vulpix stood, completely still (aside from a wagging tail). Little did anyone know, she had been following them for the last fifteen minutes.

(Quick Note: The first person to respond via the OOC section has dibs to try and catch this Pokemon. You then have 24 hours from that post to post IC before your dibs expires.)

@Balthazar007

May 7th Circe, why am I still in Russia?!

Circe saw the Foongus only moments after Forest did, but by than it was to late he had already thrown his pokeball. Sadly though he failed to capture the Pokemon and Circe felt bad for the guy, who quickly gave up trying. But not seconds after Ryan took his turn catching the wild mushroom on his first shot.

Sergeant Sokolov told everyone to head back to camp since it looked like the ice type wasn't making any appearence today. But on their return trip the Alolan Vulpix appeared before them. Excited, she ran to the front of the group and tossed a pokeball before anyone else could react. As the Pokemon went into the ball she turned to the others.

"Sorry guys, didn't mean to butt in front of everyone. I couldn't help myself." She said embarrassed with a smile. She turned to the pokeball to see if her luck would hold out.

-----------------------

Liz

She was use to the exertion and the cold, but could tell Mililani wasn't, so while they ran she called out Hephaestus and had his flames attempt to keep her warm.

"I know your from what the Earth trainers are calling the core world, and that your region was mostly warm and tropical. Hopefully Hephaestus can warm it up a bit for you. We original trainers got to stick together a bit yea know??" She said as they came to a stop. The wild mushroom pokemon Foongus had appeared and after one trainers failed attempt, an other succeeded. And just as soon as they arrived they were on their way back.

Suddenly a Vulpix appeared, but this was an Ice-type Vulpix. They called it an Alolan Vulpix here. The bright goth girl Circe cut through the crowd and throw a ball before anyone else, apologizing afterwards. Liz rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. These Earth Trainers needed a lot more self control...

@LuckyBlackCat

...Suddenly a Vulpix appeared, but this was an Ice-type Vulpix. They called it an Alolan Vulpix here. The bright goth girl Circe cut through the crowd and throw a ball before anyone else, apologizing afterwards. Liz rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. These Earth Trainers needed a lot more self control...

The little Alolan Vulpix tilted her head in curiosity as the ball came flying toward her. Then it sucked her inside and dropped to the ground.

It only shook twice before the Pokemon Popped out. Seemingly unphazed, she began to play with the now useless Pokeball, knocking it back and forth, occasionally looking up to her audience of humans.

Result: No Dice

(Quick Note: This gives you 24 IRL hours to try again, or else loose your dibs.)

A proud grin spread over Ryan's face as he held up the newly-occupied Pokeball. "You see? That's how you go about it," he lectured the others. Didn't that other guy know that running up to a wild animal and throwing things at it would only spook it? He hoped his fellow beginner trainer hadn't scared the Foongus too much. At least the mushroom Pokemon had visibly relaxed afterwards, enough to go along with him.

As much as he wanted to get back to headquarters and spend time with his new Pokemon, the mission's objective still wasn't complete. His spirits bolstered, he sprinted to the front. He was, after all, the first of the group to catch a Pokemon...

Twenty minutes later, it turned out expending his strength like that hadn't been the best move. Gritting his teeth and trying to ignore the stitch developing in his side, he forced himself to keep going as people began to outspeed him. This wasn't a race, at least not to the others, but no way was he going to break his streak of success. Mustering his remaining energy, he made a wild dash towards the front...

And promptly fell forward into the snow, sending powder flying up. Cringing at the sound of snickering, he staggered to his feet and dusted off his coat. "Heh, laugh all you want!" he called to the two people who rushed ahead, their jeers continuing. "I st-still beat you to it in the P-Pokemon catching department!" Trying to stop his teeth chattering, he patted the round shape of the Pokeball zipped up in his pocket. No matter what, he reminded himself, he was the first official trainer on the project. Maybe, once those two idiots had their own Pokemon, he'd show them a thing or two in a battle.

Despite the ache in his bruised knees, he resumed a jog, only for people to slow down around him. Just when the sargeant announced it was time to head back, something caught everyone's attention. A short distance away stood an Alolan Vulpix, wagging its tail like a friendly little puppy.

The bubbly goth girl he'd seen around a few times seized the opportunity, bouncing forward and throwing a Pokeball. Just a moment after vanishing into it, the Vulpix popped back out, seemingly treating this as a form of play as it batted the capsule around.

Considering the girl's enthusiasm and the fact that he already had a Pokemon, Ryan wasn't going to go for this one, but he peered closer. This was a good observation opportunity, and maybe he'd have to gently advise the goth girl if she made any more mistakes.

---

@Cerces22

Flexing her numb fingers above the Monferno's flames, Mililani watched a blond-haired guy's attempt at catching the Foongus, this time successful. For a moment, given the way he'd comforted the poor nervous Pokemon, it looked like he might have the right idea. Then of course he had to go and brag, casting more than a shadow of doubt over whether the capture had been entirely for the Pokemon's sake, if at all.

"D-Don't you let it g-go to your head," she warned, barely able to speak for shivering, before everyone resumed running. An eternity seemed to pass as the bleak landscape stretched endlessly on with no sight of the Ice type the group was so keen on finding.

When the sergeant finally announced it was time to call it a day, Mililani slowed her pace. "W-Well, hopefully the Ice type will do alright out here until s-someone can find it," she muttered to the pink-haired girl and the two Pokemon. "And th-thanks, Hephaestus." Although she had a Fire type of her own, she wasn't letting Keahi out here, considering his possible unpredictable reactions to wild Pokemon.

The sudden appearance of the Pokemon they'd nearly given up on, a Vulpix with white fur that marked it as being from Mt Lanakila, drew everyone over. Shivering violently despite the nearby Fire-type's warmth, Mililani observed from a distance. Many of the Earth people, she'd noticed, had this fascination with certain Pokemon from Alola, specifically the ones with different forms in other regions.

Just as she'd expected, someone rushed right forward, flinging a Pokeball. Mililani shook her head, letting out a long, drawn-out huff, breath misting into the air. Unsurprisingly, the fox leapt back out of the capsule. Why did so many people think charging over and hurling a Pokeball before the Pokemon even knew what was going on was the best way to catch one?

"Oh d-dear Arceus, what is w-with this bunch?" she mumbled to the girl who'd let out the Monferno, in Poke so nobody from Earth would understand. Given the earlier act of kindness, she wasn't going to entirely shut out this woman, but she wasn't going to let her too close either. From what she'd heard, Liz had a reputation as a champion, and some champions went to any extreme to reach the top. Extremes she hoped none of these beginners would end up resorting to.