Party l N/A
Inventory l N/A
Current Location l Littleroot Town ; Birch's Lab
Present Time l 5:37 PM
About damn time she arrived in Littleroot. The sky was lightening at this point, the sun beginning to dip beneath the dense, leafy treetops that surrounded the small town. Connie would've paused, if she could, to spit and swear because this was
terrible. Her mother could be such a hag sometimes; she'd forced her to walk the entire distance, from Petalburg to Littleroot. A "warm-up" she called it, to prepare for all the walking Connie would have to during her journey.
Pfft, "warm-up." Just a nicer way of saying I'm fat and need to get more exercise. I see the sweeping looks she gives me, the oh-so-subtle hinting at taking morning jogs, drinking more water and eating healthier foods. Seriously, it's not my
fault I look this way, is it?
Analyzing further was useless, anyhow. Her mother was miles back and they'd stay separated by an even further distance soon, now that she was out and about with her license. It made Connie feel almost homesick, as she looked about the fittingly-named Littleroot and felt an iffy sensation aflutter in her chest. This wasn't Petalburg in the slightest sense. It smelled, looked and overall was different. Obvious news, but also hard-hitting.
People were looking at her now, the pudgy, panting girl leaning against a tree, fighting hard to gain her composure. Her freckled face was red and she seemed to be sweating underneath her heavy clothing: thick corduroy shorts and an even thicker sweatshirt. Paired with her girth and camping-sized backpack, her exhaustion was understandable. Some were walking from their front porches with nervous smiles to offer help; the stranger needed it. She had to be a stranger, anyway. The Littleroot community was a tight one and everyone seemed to be friendly with everyone else. If no one knew this girl, she had to be from elsewhere, come with a purpose. Everything did happen for a reason, after all.
"Connie! Oh, there you are! It's mind-boggling how I couldn't find you in Littleroot, of all places, even when you're at the top of the list!"
Professor Birch, the heavy-footed, brown-haired giant that he was, seemed similar to the newcomer from the distance. But the girl he addressed as Connie had more rounded features, not squared like Birch's. And the way in which he called to her was unlike kin. She had to be one of the expected Trainers! The thought elated the entire town. A crowd was forming and they watched eagerly as the two interacted.
Connie tried her hardest to ignore the attention out the corner of her eye. It was only reddening her face. She could only offer a stifled "Hello" to the ecstatic professor that loomed over her.
Of course, he had much more to say. "Connie Bennati!" he repeated with satisfaction as she shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Man, I've had the roughest day today, but you probably don't want to hear about all that. No offense but you seem bothered yourself. Something up?"
"N-nothing much. Just... yeah, nothing, really." The crowd was really bothering her now. Connie shot a few nervous glances in their direction.
"A long walk?" He was still beaming; it was difficult to look him straight in the face. "I understand. Today's a big day for you anyway, so I'd understand if you were tensing up. But please, follow me! Your starter, as well as your entire future, is waiting for you in the laboratory!"
Current Time: 6: 25 PM
The evening passed on in a pleasant manner. Birch's wife had situated them with cups of tea as Birch himself insisted they converse. He was in a very hospitable mood, it seemed. At first the conversation went slowly and quite awkwardly on Connie's part, as Birch inquired about her background; why she wanted to become a Trainer, where she was from, what did her parents think, etcetera. The pace began to quicken, however, as a much more interesting topic came to surface: Connie's experience with Pokemon. Then she was talking up a storm. She dabbled a bit on her blog, chattered on and on about her knowledge on League competitions and mentioned her constant studies and by the time she began blathering on about how much she disagreed with the official tier listings, the clock spelled out 6:25, well over the time it'd been when she arrived in the lab.
"Augh!" Connie nearly knocked her fragile teacup onto the floor, but fortunately Birch was swift enough to save it. "It's so late now! I got so carried away, I'm sorry! I expected to reach Oldale by seven, but at this rate--"
The professor interfered with another one of his radiant smiles. "Oh, no need to apologize! The conversation was pretty engaging! I never knew you could talk so much, Connie. But, yeah, you're right. We need to get moving! I'm gonna get fired if I keep caring about the Trainers I give Pokemon to."
The two exchanged smiles, Connie's a more sheepish one, before the actual business began. With brow-raising speed, Birch flew across the polished tile floors. He was a fast worker, after all, though an unorganized one by the looks of his office space. The professor's desk was littered with paperwork galore and he tossed up the mess like a Poochyena burrowing its business in the front yard. It was cringe-worthy to Connie, so she focused on the long table just behind Professor Birch. Four brand new Pokeballs were lined up delicately and underneath each one was a much less official-looking sticky note. Scribbled on each in tiny, scribbly handwriting: "TORCHIC, FIRE. TREECKO, GRASS." There was a space here, where Mudkip most likely would have gone. "SLAKOTH, NORMAL."
Connie didn't bother reading the last one. She knew it contained Meditite, whose typing was intriguing but, unfortunately, its stats and limited movepool were a definite turnoff. Without a real powerhouse, a solid backbone to the team that could both take hits and serve them out, the novice Trainer wouldn't stand a chance against any Gym Leader or, for that matter, the Elite Four. Slakoth was a risky move but Connie understood that sometimes taking the path with higher stakes would, in turn, have the better payoff. There were also more than enough opportunities to catch a Rock-type counter for Roxanne's gym on the way to Rustboro. The real risk was Slakoth itself, whose Truant ability was much less than desirable. However, its Defense was not mediocre, like Treecko's and Torchic's. Quadruple weaknesses irritated her, so Mudkip was an instant no-go, and she was glad someone had already made that mistake. Besides, it was slimy, blank-eyed and gross. Perhaps Connie was just biased, choosing a future Slaking, but-
"And that's the gist of it, really!"
Birch's bellowing of rules and regulations stunned Connie from her period of deep thought. She'd been too concerned with the shiny new Pokeballs, their tops reflecting the overhead lights above, she'd missed most everything he'd said. Fortunately, he hadn't noticed. Not that Connie needed to hear everything she'd read thoroughly since her early teenage years for the hundredth times. It was time to steer this encounter in the appropriate direction.
"I already know which starter I want: Slakoth," she exclaimed and reached for the desired Pokeball. Birch seemed surprised by this, probably because it gave him less excuse to chat. The disappointment didn't last as he found a loophole.
"Ah, Slakoth! Yes! A risky choice, but I think you can handle it, Connie. You showed some extreme Poke-knowledge a few minutes ago. You'd make a wonderful researcher!"
Connie rolled her eyes at this. "Researching's pretty boring, honestly. I just like the battling part and analyzing that."
Taken aback, Birch fumbled around in his lab coat pockets, looking for something and trying to discard the comment as if it were nothing. "R-right. Anyway, since you've already chosen your starter, you're officially a registered Trainer. Er, congratulations and may luck be with you on your journey..."
A bursting sounded and Connie drew her hand back with a yelp. Birch didn't need to look up to recognize why. Even the biggest Pokemon-loving nerds always made the same mistake of opening the Pokeball in their hand. Trainers didn't throw them down just to add an extra flourish, it was a safety precaution. But it was too late now, as the Slakoth of question was sprawled out on the floor at their new Trainer's feet.
Connie clasped her stinging hand in an effort to stifle the pain, ogling her first Pokemon the entire time. Well, there it was. It wasn't breathing, it wasn't moving and its eyes were shut. It seemed she'd suffered her first loss just seconds after becoming officially registered.
"It's not dead, don't worry yourself." Birch's swiftness was supreme and he noticed her fear before even Connie truly had. "Slakoth isn't called the Slacker Pokemon for nothing. When it's asleep, virtually nothing can wake it up. Scream in its face, shove a finger up its nose, drop a brick on its head... doesn't matter. It'll sleep until it wakes up or doesn't." The final implication sent another apparent rush of terror through Connie and the professor wished he'd left that note out.
He was quick to talk more in an effort to cover his mistake and, of course, hear his own voice. "Things you should know about Slakoth--"
"Base 60 stats for HP, Attack and Defense. 35 base stats for everything else?"
"Well, that's correct, but you're gonna have the raise the thing too you know. Not just battle with it. Feed it, clean up its droppings, you know. But don't make that face, Connie. You probably chose the best Pokemon to care for, in all honesty. I pity the girl who chose the Mudkip (and for other reasons too) since those you actually have to feed more than three leaves a day. I'm not kidding. Slakoth needs little to no maintenance and you can tell it's well-rested at all times, can't you? Feral Slakoth are worse on the whole 'constant sleeping' thing. Twenty hours a day! Can you believe it? They hardly ever move! They're basically just fuzzy rocks, but this little guy is different. Specially-bred Slakoth like this one have more efficient sleeping schedules, based on their bloodline. His bonus egg move might be worse than what it could be, but he'll at least rest on two hour intervals. Right now he's in the middle of one. As long as you keep a schedule, you should know when he's battle-ready and when he's not."
Connie didn't lift an eye from the sleepy slacker for the entirety of Birch's speech. He most likely mentioned some other tidbits that she missed but the idea was there. Yet, she was still suspicious if the professor was honest on the whole interval idea, though his comment about Slakoth resembling rocks was on-point. It was almost fascinating how still the clawed creature kept while slumbering. Hopefully he'd awaken soon. For now though, the Pokeball seemed the best place for him to stay. Recalling what an Ace Trainer had done during a streaming, Connie poked the middle button on the Pokeball and withdrew her Pokemon just as Birch gave his final words.
"Packing him up already?"
"Yep. He's no good at the moment."
Birch scowled. "Now, don't talk like that. He's your lifelong partner. Let him out in an hour or so, when he's conscious, okay? Don't leave him cooped up in there until tomorrow morning, promise?"
Connie hesitated for a second, as she was already turning for the exit. "...fine. Oh, and I need-"
"-the Pokedex and Pokeballs? Already got 'em here!" The exchange was made. That and a few nods and parting looks before Connie stumbled out into the ever-darkening Littleroot. Perhaps she should be bursting at the seams with excitement but instead she was bubbling with stress and disappointment.
