It was truly a relief when Paul felt Staraptor begin to descend back to earth. Even on the bird’s broad and feathery back, it was uncomfortable to sit for long periods of time. And the hours it took to get from Sinnoh to Kanto counted definitely counted as a long period of time.
Opening his beady black eyes, Paul turned his harsh gaze on the steadily-approaching ground, and his ever-present scowl deepened.
Despite the soreness in his limbs, the sea of green grass below him was not a welcome sight. Paul Shinji was a city boy. He was used to the smell of pollution and alcohol, and the sounds of cars whizzing by his house 24 hours a day. This clear air and quiet atmosphere was unfamiliar and suspicious.
Staraptor gave a carrying shriek when they were about twenty feet over the grass, and several townspeople looked up at the unfamiliar Sinnoh pokemon and its purple-haired rider in fascination.
Paul paid them no attention when they continued to stare, even after Staraptor landed and he got off its back. What did he care if a few small-town hicks couldn’t keep their eyes off him? At least they’d recognize him when he became Champion and his face was plastered on every television in the region.
The boy rolled his shoulders and stretched, looking around for the laboratory of the Professor he was to seek out. He spotted what had to be the lab nearby.
“You gonna be alright getting back to Reggie?” Paul’s voice was quiet, deep, and void of emotion when he addressed the bird.
Staraptor, who had been preening himself proudly before the people watching, stopped to give a derisive chirp, as if asking if Paul was serious with the question.
Paul couldn’t help but give a slight smirk.
“Okay. Well, bye.” He muttered, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his blue and black jacket, and turning away.
Before he could do so, however, Staraptor put a wing on his shoulder. The bird pulled off the glimmering contest ribbon pinned to his plumage with his pointed beak, placing it into Paul’s pocket.
“Ohh, no. It’s yours. You won it,” Paul muttered, gingerly picking up the ribbon and holding it out.
Staraptor stared at him harshly. A moment passed. Paul sighed grumpily.
“Fine.” He pulled off his backpack, pulling out the small ribbon case his
dear brother had forced him to bring. He opened it, dropping the ribbon in and then shoving it back into his pack.
Staraptor, satisfied, took off, doing a good-bye roll in the air and shrieking noisily.
But Paul was already slouching away.
Thinking of the ribbon case left him with a sour taste in his mouth. He wanted no evidence of his taking part in a contest. Paul found himself hoping deeply Professor Oak had a nice destructive Fire-type he could pick as a starter. He already had something for it to burn.
Paul paused for a moment at the laboratory door, suddenly self-conscious. He ran a bronzed hand over his head, flattening his chin-length purple hair. Looking down at his wrinkled gray cargo pants and disheveled jacket, he did his best to straighten both.
It wasn’t often Paul did anything like this, and the fact he cared about his appearance at all was a testament to the respect he had for Professor Oak.
After all, what was he to do? Barge into the lab, call Professor Oak a ‘geezer’ and demand a pokemon? Only an idiot would pull something like that.
With this in mind, Paul rapped his knuckle on the door of the laboratory, and he straightened from his usual slouch, pulling his other hand from his pocket.
He heard shuffling within, the creak of a computer chair as someone lifted themselves off of it, and finally footsteps approaching the door. Paul hardly realized he was holding his breath.
At last, the door opened, and Paul saw Professor Oak before him. He was a surly-looking man, with eyes as beady as Paul’s own, and thick eyebrows that rivaled his.
However, when the man smiled at him, his entire face softened.
“Ohh, you must be that beginning trainer from the Sinnoh region! Paul, is it? Here to get your starter? Please, come in.”Paul silently heeded, following the Prof. into the lab.
“Now where did I put those pokemon—Aha!” The Professor, who had been looking through a number of boxes, straightened.
Three pokeballs could be seen within.
“I have three choices available for you, Paul.” Oak told, and with that he let out the three choices. With a pop and a flash of red, a Slowpoke, a Pidgey, and a Mareep stood before him.
If Paul wasn’t so concerned about appearing respectable in front of Professor Oak, he would have beat him to a pulp with his fists.
He had travelled all the way to the Kanto region from the goddamn Sinnoh for these pieces of crap?
Slowpokes were disgusting, lazy, unreliable creatures that were a bitch to train. Everyone knew that. And they were pink. Pink was not badass.
Pidgey, though uncommon in Sinnoh, were abundant in Kanto, and picking it would be a waste of a starter. Not only that, but this one looked like the runt of the litter.
And lastly, there was the Mareep. If you wanted to look like a pansy, that was the way to go. The yellow and blue ball of static and fluff bleated cutely at Paul, wagging its light bulb tail. Paul shuddered.
“So what do you think? Which do you choose?” Oak asked, and Paul felt his lips twitch as he withheld his retort to the 'what do you think' question. Paul’s scowl got darker and darker as he deliberated, and soon he was back in his usual slouch, with his hands back in his pockets.
The drooling pink Slowpoke was out for obvious reasons.
The Pidgey was so common he probably could have walked outside wearing a blindfold and caught one by tossing a pokeball at random. Definitely not.
That left Mareep. Knowing that if he held if off any longer, it would become more difficult, Paul muttered,
“I pick Mareep.”
[/b]His eyes closed as if in pain, Paul contented himself with the reminder that as soon as he caught another pokemon, if the Mareep turned out to be a despised weakling, he could release it.
As Paul struggled to stop himself putting his head through a glass window and turning it until his head got cut off, Mareep began to dance merrily around his feet, bleating excitedly.
“Well, congratulations on getting your starter, Paul! It looks like he already likes you!” Oak proclaimed, with the look of one who believes they’ve just done someone a huge favour.
"Oh, I almost forgot! Here's your starter kit. It contains a pokedex, some pokeballs, and other things to help you out on your journey." “Thank you, Professor,”[/b] Paul’s reply was emotionless, but it came out from clenched teeth.
The fuming teen turned toward the door and slouched away, his Mareep following him like a puppy. As soon as he was back in the fresh air, with those hicks still watching, chuckling to themselves at the adorable pansy pokemon by his side, Paul grumbled to himself,
“Someone’s going to pay for this…”maleAblities:
Tackle
Growl