Kapitel 1237: 31
Three days were easy to spend. Not only was I given preferential treatment by Roxanne in the form of a guest-pass that allowed me to just sleep at the Rustboro Gym, but I was actually paid.
And it wasn't a measly sum, it should be said. Well, I mean it wasn't a ton, but it wasn't chump change. 200 total, 100 a day. And payment is payment.
This did not come my way as an incentive to sell my Onix or a Fossil egg to Roxanne, though she did bring up separate methods of purchase often which I was quick to reject. This actually came because, for those two days between the dreaded auction house bonanza, I wasn't planning on doing anything. I was just gonna enjoy a bit of a lounge with my Pokémon. And Roxanne, not being a fan of laziness in the slightest, found a little loophole in the by-laws of the school she taught at that led to my being paid.
The Rustboro City Pokémon Gym was closely associated with the Pokémon Trainer's School. The two were built within the same time period around one hundred years ago, and certain expectations were held of the two. The school was expected to produce interns and Gym Trainers for the gym, and without fail, either the Gym Leader or their highest rated Gym Trainer was to have a secondary teaching, tutoring, or administrative role within the school. It was actually written out that this was an expectation.
But, whilst the gym's contract with the school wrote out that they had to do this, the wording on the school's side only expected a Gym Trainer be available.
Meaning, they didn't care where said Gym Trainer came from. It was just assumed that it would be from the Rustboro Gym, but never was it specified.
Which, for those clever enough, or, more likely, unaddled enough, it would be a simple thing to determine that I happened to fit such a category.
You heard it right, folks: I played substitute teacher for two days while Roxanne belted out all the gym challenges she could in order to take Wednesday off.
And you know what?
It wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all.
I had three separate categories of battle classes: Beginner, Intermediate, and Advanced. With the beginners, who's ages ranged heavily but were all younger than eight, it should be noted, I did the irresponsible thing of giving them free reign. By that, I mean that while I wasn't letting them battle, I was willing to let them play with the Pokémon that they would eventually have the opportunity to battle with.
Surprisingly, this was not an uncommon method of getting brats into the game. And also surprisingly, the Pokémon owned by the school knew what to do.
Fully evolved Pokémon knew to be gentle with them, the unevolved Pokémon knew to back off when kids got too grabby, and somehow, some way, when it came to baby Pokémon, the kids instinctively knew to not be grabby little shits.
Alls well that ends well, I say.
With the Intermediate class, of which the majority happened to be my age, things were a little trickier. They naturally did not want to listen to me. I was their age; that was all the reason they needed. And honestly, I understood. Were I a brat, or at a least a bigger brat than I currently am, I, too, would not want to listen to another brat.
Alas, I needed to stamp them down.
Hard.
So, I opened the invitation. Whoever wanted to battle this out would be allowed to do so. Should I lose, that would be that. The class wouldn't need my assistance. I'd play movies or video games on the big classroom screen and they could ignore me however they wanted. But, should they lose, they would have latrine duty, because while I understood their aggravation, I was still their teacher, and regardless of my age, I was their teacher.
Of the seventeen students listed under the Intermediate rank, eleven of them offered to take me down a peg. All they needed was one victory.
I did not give them that.
See, at this point, it was expected that they would have their own Pokémon. I never stipulated they had to use them, knowing that the school Pokémon were well trained and eager to battle, but I also said that I would be using my own Pokémon. Pride cometh before the fall, and because I, a brat, was using my own team, they, the bigger brats, were going to use members of their teams too!
It went about as you'd expect it to go.
Eleven battles, eleven victories. Eleven Pokémon faced; one Pokémon used. Winter was smug as shit, preening like a damned ballerina after the trouncing he gave to those scrubs, and I rewarded him with some good scratches and proud parental platitudes. When I said I intended to use him more often, I damn well meant it.
That, and I didn't trust them to shut their mouths if I used Ramsey.
Roxanne was not necessarily thrilled to return during her break to find her class scrubbing toilets, but she also didn't vilify my actions. Instead, she proclaimed it a lesson learned, that looks could be deceiving, and that the school would never permit somebody unqualified to take a teaching position, temporary or not.
The Advanced class had smartly listened to me, especially after seeing some Intermediate kids scrubbing toilets, and though the majority of them were older than me, they swallowed their pride and did as I recommended. I didn't really teach them anything, at this point they knew more than needed. Instead just offered tips and tricks after watching them battle one another. I know that I probably didn't do much for them, just as they know I didn't want to be here.
And as luck would have it, those two days flew by relatively quickly, and on the third day, on Wednesday the 20th of May, I awoke, readied for a long slog of a day, and tiredly met Roxanne at the front foyer at 6:00am. She, punctual as always, was immaculately presented, looking not an inch out of place.
And, by her side, showing a tiredness that I too was feeling, was a big blue beast of a bro.
Standing at what seemed to be six and a half feet tall, corded muscles and deeply tanned skin were the most apparent features to be found. His blue hair spiked relentlessly, matted down only by a pair of thick swimming goggles, and his similarly colored eyes were drooped in sleep deprivation, though showing no signs of being unaware of their environment. Wearing board shorts and an overly large orange t-shirt, a surfboard strapped to his back, and a pair of simple sandals, he was the epitome of an anime-surfer dude.
Which begged the question; what was he doing here?
Why was Brawly, Leader of the Dewford Island Pokémon Gym, in Rustboro City. And more than that, why at such a shitty time?
"Good, you're here." Roxanne said, primly offering a curt nod of the head. "A little later than I'd hoped, but we will still be early. Are you packed and ready for this trip?"
"Yeah I'-" I began only to yawn. Loudly. Said yawn caused Brawly to echo with his own yawn, and Roxanne's eyes widened and her lips parted but she swiftly clamped her hand over her mouth to prevent a sound from escaping. "-I'm good. Why's he here?"
"Have you not been introduced? This is-"
"Brawly, yeah. I know." I said. "But why's he here?"
Her smile turned a little strained. "Brawly was always here, Jon."
Bullshit. "He's supposed to be in Dewford."
"Nah, man." Brawly jumped in. "I've been here since last night."
"Then why didn't I see you?" One would think he would have been seen, especially since I had some Taco Tuesday with Roxanne last night while we watched a nature documentary.
It was a strange thing, mixing such a chill food day with such a bland entertainment package.
Roxanne's strained smile became painful to see and ears flared red, and Brawly just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. What? What was I missin- Oh.
Ohhhhhh.
I raised my eyebrow, a questioning look on my face, and, maturely, held up my hands. One hand turned into a fist, save for the ring finger which remained stiff and straight, and the other formed a ringed shape. Then, even more maturely, I put my ring finger into said ringed shape and pushed and pulled it back and forth, with a very clear message to be seen.
Roxanne groaned and covered her face with her hands, literal pockets of steam escaping from her ears, and Brawly just grinned even wider and shot me a cheeky wink and a thumbs up.
And just like that, I discovered the power couple of the Hoenn Pokémon League.
Was I jealous? A little. The mind wants what the body doesn't understand, and Roxanne ticks all my physical boxes, plus she's smart as a whip. But I don't begrudge them this either. This world was, while not necessarily prudish, a little repressed. Must have been the Japanese mindset bleeding through.
People rarely just hopped into bed with one another unless alcohol or other factors were involved, and Roxanne didn't strike me as the type to do such a thing on a whim. In my mind, they'd had to have been together for at least a few months for her to be comfortable enough to even consider having sex, months that I did not know her, which thusly meant that I had no reason to show any semblance of bitterness.
"Are you two public?" I instead asked.
Brawly shrugged, a bemused look still sported over his face. "Sorta? We've been together for over a year now, but barely anybody really knows. We aren't in anybody's face about it, but we aren't subtle either. I think it's willful ignorance. Roxy just thinks people are dumb."
I nodded in understanding. I definitely knew about how the masses could be ignorant of obvious things. And that they could be dumb.
Also. Roxy? That's pretty fucking cute pet name.
Roxanne cleared her throat loudly, her face, while still pink at the ears and cheeks, was now set in a decidedly neutral manner. "Enough of this. The auction will take place in three hours, and if we want good seats and preferred showcasing, we need to leave now."
"You two need to leave now," Brawly cheekily chimed. "I'm just coming along to surf the sunrise. Mossdeep has some of narliest waves right now. I can't wait!"
Roxanne rolled her eyes, but they were filled with fondness towards her boyfriend. Their dynamic looked strange to outsiders such as myself, but they got along pretty great from the looks of things, and that, more than anything, told me what I needed to know. She then withdrew a simple Poké Ball from the pocket dimension that hid beneath her poofy little skirt and released a Pokémon.
Baltoy was silent upon its reveal. It was a small, still Pokémon, sporting a tan in coloration with red indentations lining a pattern over its face and stomach. It did not physical move its body, though through levitation it did bounce a bit, and soundlessly it hovered over to Roxanne. She calmly stroked its pointed scalp, and it leaned into her in greeting.
"Baltoy here will be Teleporting us to the Mossdeep City Gym." She said, still rubbing at its scalp. "From there, we will trek a mile south towards the auction house, where you will have the opportunity to submit your Onix for bidding."
"Toy." Baltoy bobbed up and down, signifying agreement.
"While you two go south, I'll be heading west." Brawly said, patting at his surfboard. "The gym's only a couple hundred feet from the ocean. It's perfect."
"Then what are we waiting for?" I asked. Why bother waiting around?
"Baltoy needed direction." She pointed out. Which was true. It's not like Baelish can Teleport where I want him to without knowing what I want. "And you need a warning. I've met your Natu and I know you two have Teleported around, but long-distance teleportation is vastly different from short distance. It is not going to be comfortable. The reason we haven't had breakfast yet is because I doubt you'll be able to keep it down."
Now that I can't allow. "Wanna bet?"
"As much as I would love to," she said, drawling and sarcastic. "No. Once again, we are on a schedule. Grab Baltoy's arm and we'll be off."
Brawly reached over and grabbed one arm, taking on a stern, serious face. A little bewildered, I grabbed the other.
And then…
It was impossible to really describe. I felt my arm twist away from my body, and I re-doubled my grip onto Baltoy. The next thing I knew, everything went black and I was being pressed hard from everywhere. My breathing was caught, heavy weights squeezed over my chest, my eyes felt as if they'd been forced into the back of my head, my ears muffled as if I were in an airplane for hours, and then, all of a sudden, it stopped and we were no longer in the front foyer of the Rustboro Gym.
I released Baltoy and fell to my knees, gasping hard to catch my breath, my stomach churning to release something but it was thankfully empty. Looks like I was wrong about the puking thing. Roxanne, looking worse for wear, was not nearly in such a predicament as I was though, and Brawly looked right as rain if not a little uncomfortable.
"Wha-" I wheezed, coughing. "That's nothing like what I'm used to!"
"There's a reason people don't often use Teleport for long distances." Roxanne ground out, taking deep inhales and exhales.
"No, that's not what I mean! I've been Teleported over long distances, from the Lake of Rage to Grampa Canyon. That was fine!"
Roxanne sighed, righting herself. "I know the area's you speak of; prior to my interning at Rustboro I did a tour of the Indigo League. Mt. Silver is the only real difficulty with that journey; the distance between the Lake of Rage to Grampa Canyon is roughly a third of what we just traveled. In truth, the more powerful the Psychic, the kinder the movement. Only trainers with Pokémon such as an Alakazam would Teleport long distances such as what we just did on the regular, and even then, they'd jump between different cities for the sake of comfort."
"Then why didn't we?" Seriously, what was the point in making me nearly dry heave?
She smiled ever-so-sardonically. "Two reasons. Baltoy is relatively young by its species standards, and needs the experience."
"And the other?"
"It's an event everybody that has access to Teleport should have at one point."
Grumbling, I stood, my legs wobbly but strong enough now to hold me up. Looking around, I eyed the clearing. We were stood in front of a dome shaped building, the symbol of a Poké Ball over its front doors, signifying it as the local gym. I turned around and basked rising sun over the cyan blue ocean waters to the west and eyed a cobblestone path leading to a modernized civilization to the south.
Welcome to Mossdeep City, I guess.
.
Brawly had, the moment we'd caught our bearings in full, declared his intention to break away, wanting nothing more than the enjoy the water. Roxanne magnanimously permitted his leaving, and after a searing kiss that caught her by surprise more than it did me, he split from us.
Then it was our turn to head out.
The auction house was quick to be found. Roxanne wasn't kidding, it was just under a mile away from the gym, at the immediate northern edge of the city limits, just a few blocks away from the path leading to the gym. The facility was riddled with metal fencing with a Closed firmly visible, much to Roxanne's grumbling about tardiness of staff, but that just meant we had time to grab some grub and wake up properly. Few restaurants were open at this time, and after fifteen minutes of searching we ended up settling at a 24/7 fast food joint called Burger Prince.
I cannot stress it enough how stupidly close to copyright some of this place is.
With a meal of grease and carbs and a conversation of inanity filling the void, forty minutes had passed, and after we left and trekked back to the auction house, another twenty too had passed, leaving us approaching just as an employee flipped the Closed sign to Open and the metal fencing lifted to reveal a well decorated lobby.
A largeish line of people stood outside the doors as they opened, probably just under a hundred folks, and in a stream of greedy intentions they piled in. Roxanne and I joined the back of the line, though she pouted heavily about it, and we were led to a staging ground. Seats filled the area, signing boards with numbers apparent based on said seats, and as we were directed to our assigned positions, Roxanne and I were separated. I ended up sporting the number 87, whilst she was bumped up to the number 26.
As we sat down, a woman took the stage with a microphone in hand. She was a dumpy little thing, with a fair face sporting dark blue hair and cobalt colored eyes, exuding a calm, taciturn aura. Likely in her thirties, she looked a woman just passed her prime.
"Welcome one and all to the Deepadome auction house," she said into her mic, speakers blaring her words all around. "I am Rachel; a mission control operator for the Space Center and, by way of volunteer, a moderator and consultant for today's event."
A cheer rang out amongst the crowd of people, more filing in whilst she spoke.
"It is currently 7:15am. Snacks and refreshments will be made available in fifteen minutes. Auctions will begin in another hour and thirty minutes after that, at exactly 9:00am. During this time, while you are permitted to explore the facility at your leisure, we ask that you please do not leave its vicinity. We have seating limited to five hundred bidders and leaving the building will lead to you possibly losing your slot, which we will not be responsible for."
Oh. Damn. Roxanne was right about needing to be here early. Maybe not as early as we had been, but still. There Early bird gets the worm and all that rot.
"Our auctions will be varied, though not everybody will be after the same thing. Categorically, they will be split up accordingly. Pokémon will not be sold at the same time as property, and the staff will determine what category we will be starting with twenty minutes prior to the start of the event, based entirely on how many submissions there are for bidding."
Fancy pantsy talk for just saying that they'll start selling based off popularity. If they get more Pokémon than anything else, they'll start with Pokémon. Then so on and so forth, until everything has been tried out.
Rachel waved a hand towards her left, meaning my right. "If you still have anything you wish to put up for auction, please head backstage so that our consultants can look over your product to determine its base value."
She then bowed and left, polite clapping following after her. I looked over at Roxanne, who was now holding a conversation with an elderly couple, and decided to head off to do my own thing.
Backstage was easy enough to reach. A stairwell from the seating area to the stage was available, and all I had to do was follow four other folks wanting to get rid of their stuff. We stopped at a judging booth, where a small pack of well dressed men and women sat in front of tables depicting different categories to sell.
I ignored them all and zeroed in on Rachel, who had positioned herself at the table that was labelled Pokémon. Approaching her, I was nearly bowled over by a pair of brats playing an obnoxious game of tag.
Taking a knee, ready to lay into them, I was stopped only by a pair of nearly identical hands to get shunted into my face. Blinking, I grabbed them, and was hoisted back up. Shaking my head, I looked at the kids, and quickly caught on to the fact that they were siblings, and more than that they were twins. Dark blue hair and light blue eyes, a boy and a girl wearing what looked to be blackened karate uniforms, each sporting sheepish smiles.
Rachel sighed from behind her table. "Tate. Liza. What do you say?"
""Sorry!"" They announced together, bowing slightly.
"Er," I fumbled, ire gone, replaced by bewilderment. "It's- okay?"
"Cool!" The boy, Tate, said. "Sweet!" The girl, Liza, cheered. Then, as one, they ran off again, shrieking in laughter as their game resumed.
"I swear they get that from their father," Rachel sighed with the barest hint of a smile.
Based on the fact that she did not seem too beat up about that, I'd say that that worked out well for her. "Right. I'm here to put a Pokémon up for bid."
She nodded shortly, standing. She beckoned me to follow her with a flick of the wrist and we were off away from the room. "Perfect. Do you know the procedures of putting a Pokémon up?"
"No." No point in lying.
"It's simple enough. I will ask you release your Pokémon and I will inspect it. Depending on their condition and the rarity of their species, I will help determine what price point we should start with."
"And, sorry if this sounds rude, what makes you qualified to go over that?" It's an important question! I don't want to get jipped!
"It's not rude at all." She assured me, opening a door. It led to a back clearing; a greenhouse some three stories tall filled with playground equipment. "I am the daughter of the Mossdeep Gym Leader, and though I will not take over my mother's duties, I was bred around the categorization of Pokémon and certified in my teenage years to be able to do this sort of work."
Sounds good enough to me. And that makes sense too; I'd always wondered how Tate and Liza, a pair of twins probably of ten at the time, were able to secure the roles of Gym Leader. But if it was a family thing, then yeah, that made sense.
Rachel stood away from me and beckoned me to release my Pokémon. I did so, Onix taking the field with a roar of greeting, the overhead light bouncing a cascade through her crystalline body. She peered through the area curiously, but grunted upon seeing me, understanding that this was happening.
Eyes wide, Rachel approached Onix. My rock-snake growled, but I zipped her up real quick by holding Thoros' Great Ball in hand, a sight that sent her stiff. Even if he wasn't the one to take her down, she well remembered him shitting in her mouth, as he was wont to do.
Rachel poked and prodded at Onix, murmuring things to herself and making notes on her phone. Then, she put her phone away and grabbed a Poké Ball. Enlarging it, she released a Slowbro onto the field, who, after noting its location, belched out a soft yellow cloud that drifted sedately into Onix's face. Yawn took effect, and after a couple of minutes my crystal snake was snoozing its troubles away.
"Go ahead and return your Onix." Rachel said as she returned her Slowbro, and I did as asked. She then beckoned me once more to follow her, and we ended up back into that backstage area, taking our place in front of her desk, where, luckily, nobody else was waiting.
"So, everything checks out. Your Onix looks hale and hearty as a whole, and though its sedimentation is unique, that will definitely help you more than hurt you. I put it to sleep just in case the bidding process scare it, however. Same as we do for all Pokémon."
"What's it base price going to be?" That is more relevant to me than her being asleep for the auction.
" 250,000. Quite the big number, highest of the lot!"
That-
Is…
…Uh…
"Shouldn't it be, more?" I mean, yeah, it was obviously a big number. More than anything I'd ever had. But still! Like, it was an Onix made entirely out of crystal. Isn't that, I don't know, a miracle?!
Rachel shook her head. "No, that's a more than fair price. Do you know the process with which many Rock type Pokémon gain their coloration?"
"Shiny's, right? Genetic blips that rarely happen."
"While most have the capability to be shiny's," Rachel allowed. "Some also do not. Certain Rock type Pokémon, such as the case of the Golem line or, in your case, an Onix, hold no capability of wielding what is commonly referred to as the Shiny gene."
I knew that already, though. I thought Onix was the exception was all. "But…"
She held up a hand, and I quieted down. "These Pokémon gain their coloration based on diet. When they first hatch, it is their first meal determines what color they will be, not their genetics. They will always consume sediments as their first meal, and whatever they eat the most of will be what their coloration is primarily based off of. But since these Pokémon also live deep underground and in dark caverns, they tend to eat everything available, giving them a grey coloration indistinguishable to normal stone. I have dealt with the bidding of Graveler the color of sandstone and Rhydon's colored like coal. True, your Onix is especially impressive and unlike any I have ever seen, but it is only special because of its first meal. When you add in the facts that when given a metal coat it will evolve to look like any other Steelix, and considering we've auctioned off proper shiny's before, as well as those wielding the King gene, the price is quite reasonable."
I blinked. I blinked some more. I felt my hand begin to shake, and my body shuddered with annoyance. Okay. Okay, deep breaths. In and out, in and out.
I wanted to punch something.
In and out, in and out. Don't argue with your paycheck. It's still more money than you had. "Fine. 250,000. What do I have to do to get it all settled?"
Rachel dug into the drawer of her desk and withdrew both a single piece of paper along with a pen. I read the contract slowly, making sure I knew everything. It was a simple piece, basically stating that I would be trading a Pokémon for monetary purposes, and after the biddings have begun, I no longer have any say in the matter. After signing the contract, Onix would essentially go into limbo, and whoever won the bid, after paying me my money, with a 5% cut taken by the auction house, of course, he or she would be its new master.
I signed the document, annoyed but settled. Rachel took the document back, eyed it, and then, confusingly, her face went slack and she looked me over with blatant confusion.
"Jon Snow?" She asked, her voice cracking. She looked like she was about to have a mild panic attack. "That's your name? You're positive?"
"Yes?" I'm pretty damn sure I know my own name. "Is there something wrong?"
"No. Nothing's wrong. Um… If- if I could ask. Where are you from, Jon? Hoenn?"
It's not like it's a secret. Weird to ask, though. "No. I'm from Shamouti Island, in the Orange Archipelago."
Her eyes closed, and I could physically see her fingers counting down from ten. "And you were born there?"
Oh! Right, my backstory. Gotta stay consistent! "I mean, I was born in the archipelago, but not on Shamouti. I was born on Kumquat Island. I moved to Shamouti like a year and a half ago."
"With your guardian?"
"Nope." I said, popping the P. And that's all I was going to say on the matter. Happy to keep my backstory consistent though I was, I wasn't going to play the orphan card all the time. Not with a total stranger that I wasn't trying to get anything out of, at least. It's a strategic ploy, something that should only be used after careful consideration. Like getting free shit or getting out of a bad spot. Something told me that Rachel wasn't the type to fall for such ploys.
She let out a shuddering breath, and an obviously strained smile was then plastered over her face. "Very well. Then one last thing. Please give me your Pokégear number. After this is settled, though I doubt there will be problems, there might be an issue or two with the transfer of your money. If any questions pop up on your end, I'd rather you contact me directly as opposed to the auction house landline."
Fair enough. I wrote my information down on the corner of our contract and then handed her Onix's Poké Ball.
She shooed me away, her smile stiff but warm still, and an emo looking guy with an orange rat the size of a can of soda on his shoulder walked up to her, intent on auctioning something.
I took my seat, pulled out my Pokégear once more, and began to waste some time.
.
.
Time flew by quickly. I ended up playing a couple of games of tetris, then, after growing bored of that, started calling people. Or trying to, at least.
Flannery was sadly busy, and I didn't have her grandfather's phone number. Something I should have grabbed a while ago, especially since he's looking after Drogon and Nagga for me.
Claire too was busy, but I knew not to bug her right now regardless. We'd chatted a little during my time at the Rustboro Gym, and while she was technically free due to the fact that the Silver Conference was happening right now, the role of a Gym Leader was never really settled. She had new Gym Trainer's to deal with today, and they deserved her undistracted attention.
Jasmine, however, while not able to talk by way of a phone call, was open to texting.
And, she was, to put it mildly, interested in my finds for her.
The conversation started simple.
Jon: I caught you a Lairon
Jasmine: !
Jasmine: Male or Female?
Jasmine: Is it special?
Jasmine: What moves does it know?
Jasmine: What do you want for it?
Jasmine: What Pokémon do you have right now so I don't mess up a trade?
Jasmine: laskdjfa;osdikfjasdlfkajsdf GIMME
And more one-sided dialogue such as this followed, all filled with the capitol lettering of the word GIMME.
In layman's terms, she was spamming me.
It got to the point that I tuned her out and felt it smarter to just put my Pokégear on airplane mode. Jasmine, while a very kind and fun girl, I had discovered she was not the best texter. In that, while she could text, and she would, she didn't stop until she got what she wanted. Honestly, I've known her for, what, almost a year by this point? I never knew that. Primarily because I rarely text.
Call me old fashioned, call me whatever you'd like really, but I never was able to get into my generation's preference to talk by way of text. Phone calls are more personal, they're faster, and nine times out of ten will just leave a better interaction. Texting only makes sense when a simple message needs to be relayed or when you can't reach the person you mean to contact by phone call. Such as why I started texting Jasmine in the first place.
I would make sure to fix this soon enough.
I would also, in hindsight, remember that Jasmine is thirteen years old and, as most teenage girls of a similar age are won't to do; spam.
Would'a-could'a-should'a remembered that little tidbit.
Ah well. My musings were cut short as the stage lights dimmed, and Rachel, now wearing a form-fitting suit, appeared. Stagehands rolled equipment from behind her, and a portly man in a white tuxedo took a podium, an overly large white cowboy hat sat over his head.
"We will now begin the auction." Rachel announced, to the raucous cheers of the packed space. "The owner of this auction house, Dale Deepadome, will moderate our first event; property."
His microphone clicked on, and he spoke so quickly it was hard to really listen, a country accent obvious to observe. "Welcome-to-Dale-Deepadome's-Deepadome,-directly-determined-in-the-Deep-city-o'-Moss!"
…Dear god…
Ignoring the physical manifestation of a genuinely shitty meme, the bidding process was actually pretty interesting. There were seventeen properties up for sale, three houses in Mossdeep City, one hot-spring deed in Lavaridge Town, one duplex in Evergrande City and twelve farming grounds established due south of Petalburg City. Prices were high and video tours were interesting, and when it all finished out, there had been over 5,000,000 spent.
Pretty damned cool.
Dale Deepadome left the stage after that, and Rachel took his position at the podium.
"We will now begin the bidding of our Pokémon category, where I will take over moderator duties."
I was quick to join in with the cheers this time around, because it was payday.
Rachel withdrew a Fast Ball from the pocket of her suit and released a sleeping Pokémon onto the stage. Video cameras zoomed in on it, allowing us in the audience to view it properly by way of the projector screens hoisted above Rachel's podium.
It was a small rodent-like thing resembling a squirrel. Standing at what I would estimate to be perhaps the size of Rachel's head, colored black and white with yellow accenting all around, it was viciously cute.
I hated it. It was too adorable.
"This is Emolga, the Sky Squirrel Pokémon." Rachel announced, to the ooh's and aah's of the crowd. Sky Squirrel? Hm? "Commonly found in the Unova region, this Flying and Electric type Pokémon is an unusual sight to see in these lands." Say what now? Did she just say it's a Flying type? "This specific Emolga, though young, is being sold due to its possession of a rare ability: Motor Drive. Motor Drive allows their bearers to take Electric attacks and convert them into speed, which not only increases its base capabilities in battle but will simultaneously make them immune to damaging Electric attacks."
Are you fucking kidding me?
That's- that's-
I take it back. I don't hate it.
I want it.
"We will begin the auction at 25,000. Do we have anybody for 25,000?"
Instantly, I raised my sign bearing the number 87.
"And we have a call!" Rachel declared, pointing a finger my way. "Do we have twenty-six?"
A well-dressed woman three seats in front of me raised her own sign bearing the number 174.
…From there I spent more money than I wanted to on a squirrel. Me and that woman, we had a little bidding war going on. Occasionally, somebody would join in, but we were dedicated. 26,000 turned to 47,000 in the span of two minutes, and with an aggravated snarl the woman turned around to look at her competition.
That it was with a child probably sent her off the deep end.
" 50,000!" She roared. And I felt my resolve start to weaken.
The crowd crowed at her, egging her on, and Rachel accepted her bid calmly. The amount of viciousness in her eyes made me pause, and wince. This had gone pretty far down the deep end, hadn't it?
I really wished that Onix could be sold first. Then I'd be more willing to spend my money.
She turned back towards me, her dark eyes dancing with glee. "Can't top that, can you, kid? You should leave this stuff for the big leagues. Trustfund runny dry?"
What did this bitch just say? That weakening resolve was starting to harden in my gut. "What would you even do with Emolga?"
"I collect all things cute, and my husband indulges my love of such things. Emolga will be a trophy and will want for nothing." She said, sounding proud and snooty and all around annoying.
Nope. Nuh-uh. I am not going to let you waste my time, nor will I give you the satisfaction of me tapping out. I stood, holding my sign up high, and announced to the world " 60,000!"
She shrieked as Rachel accepted my bid, and looked ready to jump out of her seat and attack me. The person sitting next to her physically had to pull her down, but after a whispered demand went through her ears the woman said nothing else, throwing her sign onto the ground in a fit of a temper.
Hah. Sucker.
Two minutes passed, and when no other offers came up, Rachel banged the gavel and announced my victory with a loud "Sold!" I whooped and hollered, and though I was annoyed to have lost the money Elm had paid me for that Kabuto egg, the fact of the matter was that money is meant to be spent, so long as it is smartly spent.
And in my mind, this was a smart investment.
I took the stage, shook Rachel's hand, took Emolga's Fast ball and returned it and was then led backstage, where that one emo looking guy with an orange rat on his shoulder looked me over. Dale Deepadome stood by his side, looking all together pleased.
"What are you going to do with Emolga?" Asked the emo dude, his voice scratchy like he smoked cigarettes all the time. The rat on his shoulder's cheeks sparked with arcs of electricity and muttered a "Dede" in a similarly questioning tone.
"Train it. Battle with it." I said, shrugging. No point in lying when the contract states I've already got it.
He tutted. "Her. Emolga's a her, not an it. And what about training?"
"Her." I allowed, correcting myself. Then I moved on to his second question. "I'm a Gym Trainer with the Fortree Gym. You don't get handed that spot for nothing. Training isn't an issue."
I know I've said I'm a Gym Trainer a lot. And I know, it's probably getting repetitive. But it is a status symbol, and just mentioning it showcasing a certain amount of competency.
Eyeing my up and down, a tension seemed to leave his body. "Good. I'm a breeder, and Emolga's special. She's a fighter, you see. I normally breed Pokémon to act as pets, but she wouldn't be happy in that role. You might have a bit of trouble with her at the start, but she's a sweety once she's comfortable with you."
"Sounds fantastic." And really, it did. It also explained why he was asking these questions. Breeders tend to care about the Pokémon they produce.
…though now I have a new question. "Why'd you ask, by the way?"
He shrugged. "If I didn't like your answer, I wouldn't sell her to you."
"But I would have already purchased her." I countered.
And eyebrow rose. "Do I have your money in my hands?"
"No…"
"Is her Poké Ball registered to you?"
"No- but-"
"But nothing." He said, cutting me off. Why do people like to do that so often? "I'm not the only breeder that's got a running gig with the auction, kid. And we've got some control over our buyers. If we don't like who we're selling to, then we can reject them and go for the next runner up. And the next, and the next, until we like who we sell to. Money is secondary to me when compared to making sure the home I'm sending Emolga to is right. Same for all the other Pokémon I raise."
That's-...
That's actually pretty damn impressive.
Unironically, I really respect this guy right now. I'd like to think I'd do the honorable thing and mimic his actions in his circumstance, but I also know me pretty damn well. I have a habit of being greedy and lazy and willfully ignorant at the best of times; I try to work on it, but I also, willfully and ignorantly, rarely make the effort to do so. If somebody offered me the right amount money for a Pokémon that I wanted to sell, I don't know if I'd ask further questions.
Fuck. I'm going to need to check out whoever buys Onix, aren't I?
Damn this guy for reminding me I have a conscience.
Ignoring that for now, I finalized the paperwork with the guy, who's name was Jerry, apparently, and Dale Deepadome. I cringed as I saw 60,000 leave my bank account but delighted in Emolga's Poké Ball disappearing in a mote of light, signifying that it was both mine and back at the Fortree Gym.
Then, once everything was finalized, a gavel rang throughout the backstage, and an announcement blared through the sound system. Rachel's voice echoed around. "Sold!"
I peered at the stage and stilled as I caught the tail end of my Onix disappearing back into her Poké Ball. I watched, circumspect, for the buyer.
And then Roxanne walked onto the stage, a bright smile adorning her face, her forehead reflecting the stage light as if a mirror.
There are various emotions running through my mind right now. Elation, in that there was absolutely no way I would have anything to worry about with Roxanne being the owner of Onix. Confusion, in that I knew she didn't have enough money to buy Onix. Worry, because I presumed that Roxanne took out a big loan, or cut a budget or something with her gym for this.
And then I settled on not giving a fuck, because money.
She came backstage, and we finalized a contract. I signed a document, transferred the rights to Onix over towards Roxanne, and watched as numbers filed onto my bank account. Looks like Rachel had nothing to worry about, the transfer was going without a hitch.
When the numbers ticked to a stop, then the hitch came. In the form of my breath, that is.
Because, as my bank statement showed, I was now the proud owner of 1,317,730.
I fucking stumbled, my head turned light and woozy, and like a bitch I saw rather than felt myself fall to the floor in a near-ass faint. Blearily, I looked up as Roxanne and Jerry tried to put me to rights, while Dale Deepadome pulled out his phone and started to record me.
In this instant, I don't think I can care.
I'm rich!
And then I blacked out.
I awoke to the comforting feeling of a bed, in a cool room with cream colored walls. Standing, I stumbled a bit, my legs a little weak, but after a few moments of adjustment I felt fine.
But I didn't know where I was. This was an unknown space, however. It didn't look like a hospital space, and it didn't look like either the Fortree or Rustboro Gym guest rooms.
Had I been kidnapped? Because of my newfound richness? Was I the victim of a bad movie plot?
Panicking momentarily at that line of thought, the kidnapping bit over the bad movie bit, I patted alongside my waist and breathed out a sigh of relief. All of my Pokémon were there, ready to come to my aid at a moment's notice against the likes of gold diggers and charity organizations.
But that begged my initial question. Where was I?
Not willing to explore alone, I released Baelish. He, naturally, was unhappy with being left in his Poké Ball. After pecking at me to showcase said aggravation, my temple purpling with bruises, he took his perch atop my head and I walked into the unknown.
No. Literally. As in I walked directly into an Unown.
I let out an oof and Baelish squawked at the suddenness of my stopping, and the Pokémon that I bumped into warbled out a cry of confusion. It was shaped like the letter N, its eye directly in its center, and somehow it looked cheerful to see me.
This is a strange turn of events.
"Do you, uh. Know where I'm supposed to go?" I asked it.
It bobbed its body up and down and bade me to follow it. I did, wary but willing. With Baelish here, and with the rest of my team on hand, I wasn't too worried. More confused than anything.
Unown led me into a lobby of sorts, a cozy space populated by nice furniture. And furniture wasn't the only thing it was populated by either, for the twins I'd seen earlier today, Tate and Liza, were there. They were facing each other, meditating with closed eyes; a Solrock and Lunatone hovering behind them. Beads of sweat rolled over they brows, and on either of their laps were small pillows, hovering a couple of inches off of their flesh.
"Good, you're awake." A voice said. A voice I recognized. I turned around, and saw Rachel sitting on a chair, still in her auction suit, looking honestly relieved. In her hand was a small picture frame. The Unown hovered over towards her, and she stroked the back of its eye, making it shiver in delight.
"You gave us quite the fright when you passed out like that." She said, smiling at her Pokémon.
"Sorry. I was, overwhelmed, I guess." And wasn't that an understatement.
She nodded in understanding. "I figured. From an orphan to a millionaire, that's a jump anybody would be overwhelmed by."
"Uhm…" That was a little harsh. And how did she know I was an orphan? I specifically made sure not to bring that up with her since it wouldn't get me anything.
Her eyes crinkled up at me and she frowned, looking contrite. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just- things are… You don't know how confused I am right now."
"I think I'm probably a little more confused. Where's Roxanne?" Where's my ride back home?
"Roxanne helped me bring you here, but she wanted to get lunch with her boyfriend. It's just passed noon, by the way. You've been asleep for a couple hours."
Huh. Maybe my body was doubling up on sleep while it was knocked out? I had been so hopped up on what-if's about today that I barely got a wink of sleep last night, and getting up early hadn't helped.
But that didn't much matter. "Where am I?"
"The Mossdeep Gym. It's where my family and I live." Her throat wobbled, and she didn't know where to look.
"What's wrong?" Why was she acting so shifty?
She closed her eyes, and counted backwards on her fingers. Then, opening them, she came to a decision.
"I'd like for you to look at this picture, Jon."
Brow furrowed in blatant confusion, I did so. It was, as stated earlier a small frame. The image was slightly distorted in its colors along the corners, but it retained most of its important bits.
The picture showcased a woman holding something. The woman was slumped against a hospital bed, her blue hair a riot of frizzy curls, and her amber eyes were tiredly looking towards the camera. Her skin was tanned and propped against her chest was, I realized, a baby with a mop of red hair and a- holdupaminute.
Are you fucking serious?
I looked up at Rachel, my eyes wide and incredulous, and she nodded at my blatant surprise.
"That," she said, her voice a little shaky. "Is my sister, holding her newborn son. Three days later, she left him at the house of a friend and ran away to parts unknown. We have different fathers, you see, and she took his last name while I kept our mothers. Do you know what her last name is?"
"…Smith?" I asked, hoping beyond all hope that my luck was not this backwards.
"Snow."
I groaned into my hands.
Winter/Pidgeot – Male
Moves: Tackle, Gust, Sand Attack, Agility, Double Team, Whirlwind, Quick Attack, Wing Attack, Steel Wing, Twister, Hyper Beam, Sunny Day, Heat Wave, Attract, Rest, Sky Attack, Aerial Ace
Ability: Keen Eye
Thoros/Gliscor – Male
Moves: Sludge Bomb, Slash, Poison Sting, Metal Claw, Dark Pulse, Dig, Guano, Attract, Steel Wing, Iron Tail, Sandstorm, Ice Fang, Crunch
Ability: Sand Veil
Viserion/Dragonair – Male
Moves: Leer, Wrap, Thunder Wave, Water Pulse, Attract, Water Gun
Ability: Shed Skin
Baelish/Natu – Male
Moves: Peck, Leer, Night Shade, Calm Mind, Protect, Teleport, Flash, Confuse Ray, Psychic
Ability: Synchronize
Ramsey/Aerodactyl – Male
Moves: Iron Head, Hyper Beam, Wing Attack, Bite, Roar, Crunch, Take Down, Supersonic, Headbutt, Rest, Stealth Rock, Earthquake
Ability: Rock Head
Rayder/Honchkow – Male
Moves: Astonish, Pursuit, Peck, Wing Attack, Taunt, Haze, Perish Song, Dark Pulse
Ability: Super Luck
Rhaegal/Shelgon – Female
Moves: Rage, Headbutt, Ember, Dragon Rush, Attract, Skull Bash, Protect
Ability: Rock Head
Hodor/Nincada - Female
Moves: Sand Attack, Harden, Fury Swipes, Absorb
Ability: Compound Eyes
Jon Snow – Male
Date: May 20
Orange League: Complete
Held Pokémon: Pidgeot, Gliscor, Dragonair, Natu, Aerodactyl, Honchcrow, Shelgon, Nincada
Stored Pokémon: Kabuto(x2), Kabutops(x2), Omanyte(x2), Omastar(x2), Charmeleon, Gyarados, Skarmory, Lairon, Delibird, Emolga
Currency: 1,317,730
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein