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TEEN: A Sine of Things to Come: a Journey of Rediscovery

Ch 1: Given a Sine
    • chaos_Leader

    chaos_Leader

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    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    Given a Sine​

    It was dark, mostly.

    The light from the computer screen revealed only the lightly bearded face of Peter Sine, staring intently back at the screen. None of his facial features were especially notable, aside from perhaps a slightly lower brow and deeper set eyes, which only accentuated the intensity of his gaze. In fact, more than any other single aspect that could be seen of him, what stood out the most about this man was the sheer intensity with which he observed and scanned the images on that computer screen.

    It was a DAW program: Digital Audio Workspace. It showed a series of audio tracks, all spread out and lined up alongside one another. Occasionally Peter would open another display window, allowing parameters and details for each track to be altered. What was of far more interest though was not what Peter saw, but what he heard: what all those audio tracks represented.

    Through the professional studio-quality headphones clasped over his ears, there was music. It wasn't finished music though, barely started in-fact. He'd transcribed a few melodic and rhythmic ideas he'd come up with so far, but nothing more than a few lines in a few tracks. Apart from expanding those musical ideas, he still needed to experiment find the right voice to carry them: synthesizer or instrumental, heavily or lightly modulated.

    To conduct these experiments, Peter had one hand on the computer's mouse, and another on an electronic piano keyboard. The hand on the keyboard played the notes, produced the tones, repeated the melodies and rhythms in Peter's mind, while the hand on the mouse altered and tweaked the voice of the tone itself. He experimented with either sharpening or softening the tone, modifying the waveform, applying filters and reverb, and several other minutia.

    For Peter Sine, half of challenge and joy of composing music in an electronic medium was the genesis of a completely new voice itself. Composers who worked with primarily instrumental material have the limitations of the instrument itself, as well as what a human can and cannot do with it. Those same limitations though did provide a familiar structure for the composer to work with. In an electronic synthesized medium however, it truly is an audio blank canvas, with no limit to what can be produced aside from the imagination and ingenuity of the composers themselves. There's a reason it's called a "synthesizer" after all. In creating this unique and original voice, the artist quite literally synthesizes a new tone from raw waveforms. However, creating the tone is only part of the challenge: the newly created voice must then be integrated into a chorus of other voices, as part of a kind of audio team, to contribute to the music–

    * Ring! Ring! *

    Peter's work and train of thought respectively were interrupted by an incoming video call. A new window for the video call overlaid itself on top of the DAW program, imploring him to answer, which he had to. The incoming call window said it was from his boss, which was odd at this hour, at 4:30 am. Still, it must've been important.

    After quickly saving his work and closing the DAW program, Peter accepted the call. The window then showed a video feed of a portly, somewhat haggard middle-aged man with curly black hair. He was Donovan Joule, manager of the Kanto Radio and Communications Service, Viridian City branch, and also Peter's supervisor there. It was a decent enough job, working maintenance on the regional radio and telecom gear. It was the kind of technical-mechanical work Peter enjoyed and was reasonably skilled at. It also often had him working outdoors, for better or worse. The hours though could sometimes come at strange times, like it did just now...

    "Good morning Donny," Peter greeted. "What's up?"

    "Pete! I'm so glad you're awake!" the older man exclaimed with a kind of energized relief. "Something urgent has just come up, and I need your help to fix it."

    "You make it sound so ominous, boss," Peter replied in a sort of half-joking tone. It could get somewhat frantic for the clients, when their radio and communication gear fail on them, but it was hardly life-or-death situations. If it was for certain vital relay stations though, well...

    "It's the radio transceiver at the Professor's lab in Pallet Town, it's gone out," the supervisor explained. "We're off to get that fixed."

    "At this hour? What about Ethan? Isn't he on call for the off-hour emergencies right now?" It was supposed to be his day off today, which was why Peter was even up at 4:30 in the morning, knowing he could sleep in later. It must've been bad if he was being called.

    "I haven't been able to get a hold of Ethan," Donny answered. "It's why I called you. I know can count on you, even in these awkward inconvenient situations."

    "Ah, well, thanks for the vote of confidence," Peter responded as he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck.

    That was another aspect of Peter: that he'd always be willing to take the tasks nobody else wanted. He knew they had to be done, and when nobody else would step up to do it, Peter would be there to see that it was completed. Don had caught on to that, and over time Peter Sine became the go-to worker of the Viridian City service crew for such unpleasant awkward jobs, like this pre-dawn adventure to nearby Pallet Town he was being called on.

    "Look, don't even worry about coming into the shop, Pete," Donny assured with an easy wave of his hand. "I'll be over at your place to pick you up in about fifteen minutes. Can you be ready to go by then?"

    "Yeah," he answered. "I'll be ready."

    "I'll see you there." and Donny's image winked out in the window as he ended the call.

    A deep sigh escaped Peter once the call finished. It'd be another tough day, doing work when he least suspected he might. He'd put up with it though, not just because it's his job, but because it had to be done, and it's fallen on him to do it yet again. Such was the life of a commercial radio maintenance worker.

    The young man hoisted himself out of the swiveling computer chair and felt for the familiar light switch nearby. In an instant the darkness was obliterated by the sudden wash of light, and Peter took a moment to let his eyes adjust to it.

    Peter's apartment was meager, but cozy enough for a bachelor like himself. It had the usual necessary amenities: a place to sleep, a place to prepare meals and eat, and a place to relax, just like so many other units in his building, like so many other buildings in his neighborhood. Even so, Peter had done one thing to his modest living space that he felt stood out: he made a small studio for himself. In addition to the electronic piano keyboard at his desk, there was also a higher-end microphone, which was in-turn connected to a small audio mixing board and amplifier setup. Where other people may have hung pictures or meaningful posters on their walls, Peter had instead installed a series of foam acoustic panels, so he'd get a cleaner sound going into the microphone and coming out of his speakers. It was nowhere near as complex or complete as a professional studio, but Peter was reasonably satisfied with his setup. It got the job done, and that was enough for him.

    However, there was one notable non-functional item in Peter's studio: a thunder stone, set on a small display stand. A plaque in the stand read, 'Employee of the Month: March 2013'. Donovan Joule presented the stone after a particularly nasty storm had torn up half the radio gear this side of Kanto, and put the service crew through the wringer for weeks on end. Peter remembered being surprised to receive it, since at the time he figured he was simply doing his job. Nonetheless, it was a small token of appreciation for his work, and Peter had to admit, he kind of liked having it in his little home studio.

    In a few moments, Peter had briskly tidied himself up, and changed into a set of sturdy clothes suitable for work, including a hardhat, a pair of heavy steel-toed boots, and bright safety vest. Much like his face, Peter's physique was likewise rather mundane: neither tall nor short, neither skinny nor chubby. One could make the case though that he was somewhat strongly built. Peter himself would often claim that his body was built to be much thicker and stockier than he actually was, attributed to his lifestyle of physical labor and meager eating habits.

    About fifteen minutes had passed through Peter's preparations, and the young man unceremoniously stepped out of his apartment and went to the street. It was still dark out at this hour, with barely a glimmer of grayish light peeking over the eastern horizon; not enough light to see much of Viridian City itself. The air outside was cool and damp, as would be expected on a morning this early during the springtime, with just a hint of a breeze wafting though.

    Waiting at the street, just like Donny said he would, was a small utility truck idling in one of the nearby parallel parking spaces. It was one of the company vehicles, with the words 'Kanto Radio and Communications Service' painted on the side, along with the logo: a stylized radio tower and concentric circles that were supposed to represent the radio waves.

    After crossing to the passenger side, Peter opened up the door and climbed inside the truck where the smaller, portly figure of Donny Joule was waiting for him. A distinct bitter scent of coffee hit Peter's nose as he settled into the seat, and he saw a pair of paper coffee cups in the truck's cup holders in the dashboard.

    "Here, this is for you, as well as the coffee," Donny Joule said, handing Peter a paper bag. It was breakfast, probably from one of the convenience stores in the area.

    "Thanks," Pete bluntly replied as he received the bag, and fished out a simple biscuit sandwich and unwrapped it.

    "It's the least I could do for calling you in at this hour," the older man said as he put the truck into gear and drove off.

    "So what's the big deal about this Pallet Town job anyway?" Pete asked just before biting into the sandwich. It wasn't much as far as food went, but it was welcome nourishment all the same.

    "The Professor's laboratory is kind of a high-priority job in the first place," Donny explained, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him as he spoke and drove. "Still, we'd normally wait until regular hours to go to work on something like it. Today is a bit of a special case though, and we gotta have the radio up and running ASAP."

    "Special case?" Pete questioned, taking a sip of the steaming coffee, being careful not to spill the hot bittersweet liquid while the truck moved.

    "Today, Pete, is the day that the new batch of kids arrives at the lab for orientation, and then head out on that junior-trainer journey every kid tries so hard to be part of," Donovan Joule answered, offering a quick aside glance. "When I was that young, like most kids that age, I used to absolutely obsess over getting to be one of those lucky few picked by the Professor. I must've written hundreds of letters trying to get on that short list." his words carried a strong, sense of nostalgia.

    "But you didn't make the cut, right?" Pete asked between bites of the breakfast sandwich. "That's why you're with the maintenance crew, and not a professional Pokémon trainer."

    "True, maybe, but that doesn't mean I've stopped training the Pokémon altogether," the older man said with a small shrug. "Heck, I'll be entering the company tournament next month, and I bet I've got a shot at placing high this year with Amp backing me up."

    "Amp?! That rusty junk-pile of a Magneton?" Peter asked, almost in disbelief. "We use it for radio and telecom maintenance. It's trained to be a power supply, and to help us with signal testing, not for battling."

    "Oh ho! You'd be surprised just how much fight that 'rusty junk-pile' has in it!" Donny exclaimed with a hearty chortle. "I think the potential was always there, it's just been left untapped all this time, being in this humdrum life of servitude." He offered a small aside glance to Peter, and asked, "So what about you? You gonna enter the tournament?"

    "I don't train Pokémon," Peter confessed, shaking his head, "I haven't been interested in it for years, not since I was... well, that age."

    "That age?" Donny questioned.

    "You know, around ten to eleven, when every kid thinks they can take on the world with Pokémon," Peter explained sheepishly.

    "Yeah I gotcha," the other nodded, "So why'd you stop?"

    "I just... grew up, I guess," the younger man answered, then paused for a few moments, looking out into the dense Viridian forest pass by outside the truck window. "I mean, I figured a long time ago I wouldn't be good enough at training and battling to make it worth it for my living. Besides, I'm better at this anyway, and my music."

    "Oh yeah? Then maybe you should get the radio station play some of your tunes sometime." Donny suggested, "I'm sure they'd be happy to oblige."

    "I'll send it their way when it's ready, when I've got something good to show for it," Peter responded, "For now, I'm fine with just selling the occasional track online at the KrickeTunes music store on the side."

    "Good gracious, there you go again with the whole 'not good enough' routine," Donny scoffed with a sigh. "I've heard your stuff Pete: it's great, better than most of the new garbage from the so-called 'musicians' these days. Heck, if you put even half as much effort into training Pokémon as you do your music... well, lets just say I didn't just give you that thunder stone to sit idle on its display stand somewhere."

    A somewhat embarrassed tinge struck through Peter at that moment, knowing that's exactly what he'd done with the thunder stone. "I... just want to get this job done."

    "Alright, I didn't mean to pressure you like that," Donovan relented, "It's just something to think about is all."

    "Yeah, something to think about..."

    The rest of the short drive to Pallet Town was quiet and uneventful. Donny Joule didn't say anything more, and neither did Pete.

    It was true, what Peter had said, about how his interest in Pokémon dropped off early, despite how ingrained the creatures were into modern living. You practically couldn't go anywhere or do anything in the world without using or running into Pokémon doing something. Even the radio maintenance work Peter did often included Pokémon, like the Magneton named Amp he mentioned earlier. Yet even with the world teeming with so many Pokémon, with such close cooperation with humans, Peter Sine had managed to pursue other means that didn't involve them, namely in his music, which he published under the pen name of "Sawtooth". There wasn't a real need or viable use that he could think of for Pokémon, and he felt content with it. Shouldn't that be enough? What good was it pursuing those idyllic childish dreams, when there were radio antennas to be repaired, cables to be re-hung, connections to be made? Life, and the world, simply cannot wait for such wants.

    Peter and Donovan soon arrived in Pallet Town itself, just as the light of the sunrise began to bathe the area in a warm, golden light. It was a quaint little town, nestled in the rolling foothills of the imposing mountain range that formed the border between the Kanto and Johto regions. Peter had only been here once before, passing through for work. It was an instance when the major radio relay station between Kanto and Johto needed some of its gear replaced. They didn't even stop in Pallet town then, and simply drove right through. That meant this would be the very first time that Peter would be up close to the resident Professor's laboratory.

    A few minutes later, after a short drive up a gentle hill, the utility truck pulled up to the laboratory building itself. From what Peter could see on the approach, the radio transceiver array for the lab was installed on the top of a tower structure attached to the building, sharing that structure with a distinctive wind turbine. He already anticipated some major exterior work, with sensitive tools and equipment, and a safety harness. Good thing he had breakfast and coffee in his system.

    As Donny Joule turned the truck off, a lone figure could be seen stepping out of the laboratory building, and making his way toward the truck.

    "Looks like the Professor is here to receive us," the older man observed, and climbed out of the truck, along with Peter.

    The man who approached them could've only been the resident Professor. He was a very tall, round faced gentleman who sported a beaming smile and wire-rim glasses, wearing a bright floral print shirt with the ubiquitous labcoat over it. He clearly wasn't the famous Professor Oak, who'd normally taken care of the Pallet Town laboratory in the past. He was somewhat younger, with seemingly boundless energy and enthusiasm...

    Great.

    "Ah! There you are Donovan!" the tall rosy-faced man greeted happily as he shook Donny's hand. "Thanks again so much for coming on such short notice."

    "It's no trouble at all Professor, just doing my duty," Donny Joule replied politely.

    "Nevertheless, your work is so appreciated–" the professor stopped himself mid-sentence when he spotted Peter, and immediately approached him, offering his hand. "You're new here? Welcome! I'm Professor Jeremy Rose."

    He positively towered over Peter, who strained his neck making eye-contact.

    "Peter Sine, just a worker with Donovan," the young man replied, returning the hearty handshake that Professor Rose had offered, then asked. "Isn't this supposed to be Professor Oak's place?"

    "It is, or was," the professor answered, gesticulating widely as he spoke, nearly creating a hazard at his size. "Oak's celebrity status keeps him away from the lab so much; with radio shows, interviews, TV appearances, guest lectures. He's been needing someone to run the day-to-day functions of the lab for a while, which is where I come in, doing exactly that."

    "Ah, okay," Peter said with a nod. It made sense; even someone as tuned out of the news as he was knew at least a little about the famous Professor Oak of Pallet Town.

    "Anyways, I don't mean to be brief, but I'd like to get the radio back up and running again as soon as possible. We can chat later if you like, but for now, let me show you fellows out to the back..."

    At a brisk pace, Professor Rose led Peter and Donovan around the laboratory building, to a large field behind it. The structure Donovan and Peter were interested in of course was the tower: a tapering conical structure attached to the rear of the laboratory building. The wind turbine had been disabled for the moment, for safety of course. Large spinning turbine blades would be an obvious hazard to any worker scaling the tower to the radio transceiver antennas at the top.

    In the meantime, Donny Joule had briefly questioned the professor about the radio issues, "... and you're sure it's not interior connections?"

    "Tested all the points I safely could myself," Professor Rose confirmed. "I figure it's something exterior, at or near the top of the tower."

    "Makes sense. The weather or other factors frequently damages exterior components," Donovan responded, while he peered up at the tower through a pair of binoculars. "Yup, I think I see the break already: transmitting and receiving coaxial cables look like they've been torn loose at the antenna base. We'll have to go up and reattach that." he turned to Peter, "Pete, suit up and get ready to climb."

    "I see," the rosy-faced man said with an understanding nod. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

    "Once we're ready, you can show my assistant to the maintenance access point, and he'll go to work," Donovan answered, giving the young man a hearty pat on the back as he sent him on his way.

    Peter gave little response to the activity, and simply opened up the back of the utility truck to make the necessary preparations. The young man fished out a safety harness, an attachable tool pouch with all the necessities of electrical work, and a two-way radio. Hopefully he'd be able to check over a copy of the building's schematics so he'd know what to expect up there, but it seemed straightforward enough.

    Once he had the harness fitted, Peter checked the tool pouch to make sure it had everything he'd need: multimeter, hand-tools, soldering kit. He might need a few pieces of specialized gear or replacement parts, but until he could get a good look at the actual damage, there was no way to know for sure. He'd just radio Donovan with any details then.

    Satisfied, Peter stepped away from the truck and joined Professor Rose, who was waiting for him near the front door of the laboratory.

    "Right this way!" He led the young worker inside, explaining as he spoke, "We'll ascend the tower from the inside mostly, and..." Professor Rose stopped for a moment, noticing that Peter had fallen behind him.

    The young worker was simply taking in the sight around him, and had slowed considerably in the process. The space itself was quite expansive, two floors high with an inner-balcony occupying the second floor. There were a number of tables lined up around the area with samples, cases of Poké Balls, research materials, notes, not to mention lots and lots of Pokémon equipment that Peter didn't recognize. The most sensitive Pokémon-related equipment Peter had worked with so far was some of the components of the transfer and storage system, when he did some work for Bill's firm. Even in that case, most of the equipment itself was proprietary, and the employees of Bill's firm performed the sensitive maintenance themselves. The regional service crew were simply extra labor for the more mundane tasks, such as cable running and installation...

    "It's an impressive setup, isn't it?" Professor Rose said, standing conspicuously over Peter.

    "Yeah, sorry," the young worker responded.

    "There's no need to apologize," the professor said, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "I had the exact same reaction myself the first time I walked in here, when I was just starting off as a lab assistant for Professor Oak. The tower access is right this way..." and Professor Rose climbed a staircase up to the inner balcony.

    Peter followed closely, and asked. "You know Professor Oak?"

    "Of course! I spent nearly ten years under his tutelage after all," the Professor answered, as they continued across the laboratory's inner balcony, "He can be a little absentminded at times, but you'll find few people as devoted to Pokémon research and expanding our knowledge of them as Oak. Nowadays though, he's more and more involved in the public promotion of research, in being a celebrity scientist, as opposed to actual research..."

    They soon arrived at a small door with a number of warning labels, which Professor Rose showed to Peter. "But anyways, here's the tower access. Be safe out there!"

    The worker gave him a short nod and stepped through the door, into a tight spiral staircase that he started climbing. Soon it became too narrow for stairs, and gave way to an interior ladder that squeezed past the wind turbine's generator, right until the ladder came to a stop at an outer access hatch. Carefully, Peter unlatched the hatch, and swung it open, revealing the same rolling foothills of the area he'd seen earlier, but from a much higher vantage point. There was a little more wind out here, not enough to be a safety concern, but it was more of a gust than a mere breeze up here. The weather was just about perfect otherwise, without a single cloud in the sky.

    Before doing anything else, Peter found the outer safety rail, and attached the carabiner of his safety harness to it. Then he set about climbing the exterior ladder of the tower to the radio mast, just a few feet further up. It was a good thing Peter wasn't too afraid of heights, or else he'd never have gotten this job in the first place. Others would be justifiably terrified to be it Peter Sine's place, with at least a good hundred feet drop or more to the ground, and the buffeting wind wouldn't have helped matters. For him though, it was just another day at work, another tower to climb, another radio antenna to fix.

    The two-way radio attached to Peter crackled to life, and Donovan's voice came through, "How does it look up there, Pete?"

    At the top of the tower, Peter finally got a good close look at the damage Donny had spied earlier, and gave the details back through the two-way radio, "it's the coax cables alright: ripped right out of their connections in the junction box. Looks like it might've been some bird Pokémon by the damage to the cables themselves..."

    Indeed, the two send/receive cables connecting to the antenna mast were completely frayed on one end, and there were clear claw marks where something tore them out.

    "We could rewire them," Peter continued, "but if the cables are taking this kind of beating, I think we'd be better off just replacing them with heavy-duty reinforced cables, make this less of an issue in the future."

    "Good thinking," Donovan replied from the radio. "I'll send Amp up with the stuff."

    Way below, Peter could see the distant flash of a Pokémon being released from its ball, and a small glint that was Amp. That old Magneton was kept in Donovan's tool kit most of the time from what Peter could tell, right next to his wrenches and wiring gear. He still couldn't believe Donny was actually going to use it for battle, even if it was just a small-time company tournament.

    Peter heard a cry somewhere overhead. When he looked up, it looked like a bird Pokémon lazily gliding above, possibly a Fearow by its outline. He was almost willing to bet it was the very Pokémon that had ripped these cables out in the first place...

    In a few moments, a whirring hum steadily rose from below, and the triple-sphere and magnet body of a Magneton floated right up next to Peter, carrying a pair of short, sturdy coaxial cables. This was Amp, and its age showed, with it's rough, dented, and partly corroded surfaces in places.

    Peter reached out to retrieve the cables, commenting, "Donny's really got you battling, does he?"

    Amp just swayed a little bit in the air, and offered a tinny metallic "squawnk" noise as it's response.

    "As long as you're here, I suppose you could keep an eye out, make sure that bird overhead doesn't interfere," Peter said, pointing up to the circling Pokémon above them. "Maybe you'll even get a little practice in if you're lucky."

    The Magneton tilted itself up, to look at the Pokémon Peter supposed, and gave another squawnk.

    "... right," was all Peter could think of to say, and he began work.

    It was all pretty straightforward: a simple mater of removing the damaged coaxial cables and jacking in the fresh ones. Honestly, this was about as routine and humdrum a job as ever. Anyone in-theory could do a job like this, even that happy-go-lucky Professor Rose if he put his mind to it. The only real limiting factor here was that it was an exterior repair at the top of a tower, and that it just might have been more complicated than it was. Nevertheless, this was the kind of work the techs at the Kanto Radio and Communications Service, like Peter Sine, did on a daily basis.

    A few minutes later, and the tattered cables were swapped out for fresh ones.

    "I'm all finished up here Donny," Peter announced into the two-way radio. "I'll have Amp test the reception and–"

    "Squawnk!"

    "What is it?" he asked to the Magneton.

    Amp was positively going haywire: spinning its magnet and bolt appendages wildly, jittering and shaking in the air, all while emitting a rising whining hum. Peter had never seen this beat up old Pokémon act so strange before.

    "Amp, I don't understand–"

    * Crack! *

    A lightning strike? But there's not even a cloud in the sky...


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    And that was that!

    I wanted to carry this over into the next scene, and not leave it on as blatant a cliffhangover as this is, but it was approaching my personal 5k wordcount cap, and I'd rather not have a first chapter/prologue that drags on for that long. In any case, I hope you were able to find something enjoyable and/or interesting in that. And even if you didn't, any feedback you can give will be most appreciated. There is more stuff planned to come after this, and I hope I'll see you there!

    Edit note 01/15/2018:
    Cleaned up typos and grammar anomalies, tweaked a few lines. Added some character details to Peter: he publishes some of his music online, under the moniker/pseudonym/pen name of "Sawtooth." It's only a minor character detail, but its something that comes into play in later chapters.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 2: Shocked and Awed
    • Response in spoiler.
    Legacy said:
    Great beginning! Loved the description in that it informed and yet was flowing and subtle enough to not be boring. Love the realism interwoven in the story of the Pokemon world.

    I'll be excited to see where you take this.
    Click to expand...

    Thanks for the response! Hopefully this next chapter will be similarly enjoyable to read, and well received.

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    Shocked and Awed

    A sudden crack of thunder jarred Peter awake and he bolted straight upright. He found he was breathing heavily, and his heart was racing. He was on a sofa in some kind of sitting or living room, and someone had draped a blanket over him. A pattering din of heavy rain poured outside, with the occasional rumble and crack of thunder and flash of lightning outside the windows. There wasn't supposed to be any rain in the forecast for at least a few days, and yet there was one doozy of a storm raging outside right now...

    Peter wasn't alone in the room, far from it. Sitting across from him on another sofa were two children: one was a sandy haired blue-eyed boy, and the other was a redheaded girl, both about ten years old or so. Donny Joule was there in the lounge too, and so was the Magneton Amp, along with a dark haired boy near both of them.

    "See? I told you he wasn't dead," the girl said, her words dripping with smugness.

    "Whatever," the boy next to her replied and folded his arms, trying not to look at the girl.

    "Whoa, that's weird," the third boy uttered as he touched the Magneton, and his dark hair stood up on end from the static. Amp didn't seem to mind, not that Peter could really tell what the Magneton liked or didn't.

    "Pete!" Donny exclaimed and scampered to Peter's side, relief and joy all over his squat face.

    "What happened?" Peter asked his boss, with more questions coming rapidly. "Who are all these kids? When did a storm blow in? What's Amp doing out and about?"

    "Easy there, slow down, one thing at a time," the portly little man said, full of concern. "Firstly: are you okay?"

    "Look, I'm fine," Peter insisted, tossing the blanket aside. "Maybe I'm a little confused, but I feel fine otherwise."

    "You really don't remember what happened, do you?" Donny stated, astonished.

    Another crack of thunder ripped through the background clatter of the rain, along with a flash of lightning. The first two kids barely reacted to the noise, and were far more interested in Peter now. The third boy flinched a little, and Amp just floated nearby, seemingly oblivious to everything.

    "There was a lightning strike on that tower, even though the sky was completely clear. The strap on your harness snapped from the sudden shock, and the heat..." the portly little man handed Peter the safety harness he was wearing earlier, the strap was torn, just as Donny mentioned.

    "But, I blacked out, and if my safety line broke..." Peter looked at the harness, at the ripped and frayed strap, then looked up to the Magneton hovering around the other boy.

    "Pete, Amp saved your life," Donovan confirmed in a grave tone. "You fell after the strike, but Amp grabbed you and brought you down to safety. After that it just wouldn't stay in its Pokéball, so it's been out, hovering around you a lot."

    Peter couldn't quite believe it: his life being saved by a Pokémon he barely knew. Amp just hovered, apparently oblivious, or at least nonchalant to the boy who was so closely examining him.

    "I'm... not sure how I'd thank Amp," the young worker confessed.

    "That's okay. It seems happy enough just to be out for now." Donny assured, looking at the Magneton and the boy. "But damn this is gonna be a lot of paperwork. Gonna have to file an incident report and everything..." the portly little man muttered as he wandered off, leaving Peter alone with the children.

    "So, uh, you must be the junior trainers," Pete figured, looking over the children again.

    "We do have names, you know," the sandy haired boy piped up, leering back at Peter with his adamant eyes.

    "Come on, don't be so immature!" the girl chided, then turned to Peter herself. "Sorry about him, I'm Scarlet. Mr. Joule told us about what happened out there, and I hope you're feeling better."

    "And I'm Azure!" the boy announced proudly. "Remember the name, because you'll be hearing a lot more about me!"

    Peter paid little heed to the showiness of the boy, but couldn't really hold it against him. Azure seemed like a typical confident youngster, eager to take on the world, so proud, so innocent. The girl struck him as a clever one though, thinking and calculating behind her politeness, even at her young age. That third child was something of a mystery though, and Peter couldn't quite figure him out from what little he'd seen of him.

    "What about him, by the Magnaton?" Peter asked the two children in front of him, pointing out the other boy.

    "Oh," Azure gave the other boy a quick glance, and shrugged as he answered. "That's just Pine."

    "I haven't talked with him much since we got here," Scarlet added, looking thoughtfully at Pine. "He's kind of quiet."

    "There you are!" the professor's voice boomed as he strode into the lounge, and headed straight for Peter. "I'm so glad you're awake, and looking well too!"

    "I could be lucky, but from what I've been told, it's all thanks to Amp here," he said, gesturing toward the Magneton.

    "It certainly is a fine specimen, and it's done you a great service," the professor agreed with a nod, then turned to he children. "Azure, Scarlet, Pine, I just contacted your parents and let them know you're all safe. You will have to remain here at the lab while this storm blows over though, so I'm afraid the start of your journey will have to wait until then."

    "That's okay, Professor," Scarlet replied. "We understand."

    "Do we still get our Pokémon?" Azure asked with a worried pang to his voice.

    "Of course you do!" the rosy-faced Professor reassured with a beaming smile, and then turned to one of his other guests. "Peter, if you'll join us, I believe you may be able to help."

    "I'm not sure–"

    "–with the storm," Professor Rose cut him off. "I think you can help us understand where it came from, why it's happening. Right this way everybody!"

    The Professor led his guests out of the lounge and into the research floor that Peter had seen earlier. Not much had changed, aside from the storm outside, and a trio of Poké balls laid out on one of the nearby tables.

    "There was not one single cloud in the entire sky, and there was no foul weather forecast for at least a few days," Peter explained as they moved. "We wouldn't have done the repair if there was so much as a whisper of thunder."

    "I understand, but I think there may be something else at work," the professor said, and settled himself into one of the research stations, all his guests watching intently. "Did you happen to see anything while you were up there? Anything in the sky? Anything at all?"

    "All I remember is a bird Pokémon," Peter answered. "I think it might've been a Fearow, but it was pretty far off."

    "Bird... Fearow..." Professor Rose mulled, and did a quick browse through a Pokémon database. In a few moments he stopped on a page, and showed it to Peter. "Did the Pokémon happen to look anything like this?"

    The image on the page was a fearsome, yellow jagged-winged bird, with a long pointed beak.

    "I think..." Peter began, still thinking about it. This bird could have been mistaken for a Fearow at a great distance, like the distances he saw it from. "Yes, actually."

    "Then what you saw was Zapdos," the professor confirmed, stepping up from the chair at the station, "and it would certainly explain the sudden onset of this storm."

    "Zapdos?" Pine asked quietly, his curious eyes glued onto the database page.

    "Yes. Zapdos is one of the great legendary birds," Professor Rose explained. "Zapdos contains so much electrical power, that simply by moving to a new area, it could sometimes trigger a spontaneous lightning storm, much like the one now raging outside."

    "Wow!" Scarlet exclaimed, "A Legendary Pokémon right here!"

    "Can we catch it?" Azure asked eagerly.

    "Given time and good training, I'm sure you'll be able to!" the professor assured with a delighted chuckle. "To do that however, you'll need strong Pokémon partners to help you, the first of which you'll all be getting right now. Right this way..." Professor Rose led the group to the table where the three Poké balls were resting, "For you, we have something a little different this time."

    In quick succession, Professor Rose picked up the Poké balls, and with the distinctive pop and flash of materialization, released the Pokémon on the laboratory floor in front of him.

    "Sent all the way from Professor Sycamore in Kalos: Fennekin, Froakie, and Chespin," the professor revealed, and pointed out each one as he named them.

    Fennekin was a small fox with red tufts bursting from its ears. It vaguely reminded Peter of a Vulpix, but still seemed quite different. Froakie was a little pale blue frog, who's eyes seemed to constantly be on the lookout. The last one, Chespin, was a sort of rodent with a kind of green hood or helmet over its head.

    "These are so awesome!" Azure burst out in wide-eyed amazement, then asked, "which one are you getting, Scarlet?"

    "I'm not sure," Scarlet said, while she knelt down near the three foreign Pokémon. "They all look quite interesting."

    "What about Peter?" Pine asked the professor. "Does he get one?"

    "What do you mean?" Professor Rose asked.

    What was the boy talking about? Peter wasn't here to get a Pokémon at all.

    "Well, Mr. Joule has his Magneton, and we get to pick one of these Pokémon here, but Peter doesn't have any at all." the quiet boy turned to Peter, his small voice filled with a curious concern, "shouldn't he get a Pokémon too?"

    "I don't need any, I don't train Pokémon," Peter insisted. "I'm alright."

    "Nonsense! Besides, I know just the thing!" Professor Rose said with a giddy excitement, then turned to Scarlet and Azure, "Pine and I will be away for only a moment. Feel free to discuss your decision between Fennekin, Froakie and Chespin in that time."

    Pine and Professor Rose stepped out of the lab into another nearby room. Scarlet and Azure remained focused on the Pokémon in front of them, playing with them while they figured out who should get which of the three starters. For the time being, Peter just sat a moment, while Amp drifted nearby.

    "Squawnk?"

    "I don't know, Amp," Peter replied, only guessing what the Magneton was trying to communicate, "This is all a little weird. What am I supposed to do?"

    For a few moments, Amp just hovered, slowly twirling it's magnet appendages.

    "...right," was all Peter could think to say.

    Azure and Scarlet didn't seem to notice, so engrossed in the three small Pokémon. It was only a few more moments before Professor Rose returned with Pine. The boy had a Poké ball in hand, and held it with great care as he approached Peter.

    "Here," Pine said, holding out the Poké ball. "I picked it out just for you."

    Peter looked down at the little red and white sphere, unsure of what to do. It'd been years since he'd so much as held a Poké ball, or used a Pokémon in any kind of battle. He wasn't any good at training at the time, and moved on to other pursuits. All Peter could do was shake his head as he said, "I can't take this."

    "Why not?" the boy asked, somewhat taken aback.

    "Look, I appreciate the thought, I really do," Peter said, trying to reassure Pine. "I just don't have the time to train Pokémon for battle."

    "This isn't about a means of battling, Peter," Professor Rose explained, placing a hand on Pine's shoulder. "Just because you don't battle with Pokémon doesn't mean there isn't a place for them in your life. They can still enrich our lives, provide companionship, and even –on occasion– save lives."

    At this last comment, Amp actually bumped into Peter, nudging him forward toward Pine and the Professor. There was something about the way the professor said those words, with the clear tone of insistence, and a look that wouldn't take no for an answer. Reluctantly, Peter let out a small relenting sigh, and accepted the Poké ball from Pine.

    "Will you let it out?" the boy asked, with an air of anticipation about him.

    Still unsure exactly what he was doing, Peter tossed Poké ball to the ground at his feet, triggering the pop, hiss, and flash of materialization. When the light faded, it revealed an Eevee, a little brown furred creature with large pointed ears. It looked lost, confused, and nearly jumped when it saw the much larger form of Peter towering above it.

    "This Eevee is very young, and lonely, and could really use someone to look after her," the professor said. "She doesn't need to see a single scratch of battle if you don't want her to. She just needs a friend."

    Peter knelt down to the tiny Eevee's level, where she was pawing at the Poké ball it emerged from. She cringed a little when Peter came down, but wasn't frightened; more uncertain than anything else. The young man held out his hand, and the curious Eevee approached with caution, sniffing his hand and arm as it explored. When the little one seemed satisfied that she wasn't in danger from Peter, he gently stroked the Eevee by its ears. She seemed to enjoy the attention, and the Eevee rubbed itself against the young man's leg.

    "She likes you!" Pine observed cheerfully, crouching down next to Peter.

    Only then did Peter notice how quiet it had become. The constant pounding of the rain was no more, the thunder had gone silent, and brilliant beams of sunlight had broken through the thinned clouds outside. The most prominent sounds now were simply the content purr from the Eevee, and the amused chuckle Peter only just realized he made.

    "Ah, it looks like that nasty storm has started to clear up," Professor Rose deduced, and he went to Azure and Scarlet next to the other Pokémon. "Have you decided who your partners will be?"

    "I'm taking Froakie since he's the strongest!" Azure announced with pride as he held up the little frog. The Froakie didn't seem particularly pleased about it though as it squirmed in the boy's grip.

    "I think I'll take Fennekin," Scarlet concluded, while she stroked under the fox's chin. The Fennekin seemed to like this very much, and emitted a delighted little squeal at the girl's touch.

    "Don't worry Professor, I'll take good care of Chespin," Pine promised, and calmly approached the nervous Chespin.

    "I'm sure you and your Pokémon will do just fine out there, but before you all go, there is one last thing," Professor Roset said with his beaming smile, and held out three small red handheld devices for the children. "These are your Pokédexes. They contain a comprehensive database of known Pokémon, and will store data on the ones you capture. This helps with research, since we're finding more and more new Pokémon every day. And even among those we've already discovered, we learn new things about them just as often."

    "Thanks Professor!" Scarlet said while she accepted the Pokédex.

    "We'll make good use of them, you can count on us," Pine assured with a nod.

    "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" Azure piped as he scampered out of the laboratory, with the other children following close behind.

    All Peter could do a that point was watch, as a new generation of youngsters took their first steps down a path he had abandoned long ago. The Eevee he'd been trusted with seemed interested in the children, watching them leave with those curious big eyes of hers.

    "Come on Pete," Donny said as he came up alongside his assistant. "We'd best be best be heading back to the city."

    "Yeah..." Peter quietly agreed, and picked up the Eevee in his arms as he and his boss exited the laboratory. He didn't have the heart to return the Eevee to her ball so soon, and the little Pokémon didn't seem to mind.

    "I know what you said Peter, that you aren't any good," Professor Rose said as his final guests were stepping out into the world, "but if you are even the slightest bit interested, it is never to late to start again."

    The drive back to Viridian City was about as uneventful as it could be. Donovan Joule said barely anything, just dropping Peter off at his apartment complex when they arrived. The Eevee spent most of her time tucked in Peter's arms, watching the world fly past through the truck's window. For the most part, Peter himself wasn't quite sure what to think about how the day went. He'd survived a near-death experience, met a few young strangers, gotten an Eevee for his troubles, and still all he felt was a kind of tired, worn out confusion. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't, but in truth Peter just wanted to settle down, and let things mellow out.

    The young man opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside the familiar space. The Eevee scampered in past Peter's legs, and began exploring the brand new area for her. Peter made a mental note to check with the landlord about pet policies, and went to the bathroom in the back. He closed the door and washed his hands of the grease he'd accumulated from the repairs–

    But then the lights flickered, and flickered again.

    When Peter turned off the water faucet, he could hear a muffled crackling and sizzling sound, and caught a horrifying scent of scorched circuits when he reflexively gasped. He didn't quite know what to think, other than he had to see what it was, how bad it was.

    Peter Sine burst out of his bathroom, and into something beyond the worst he could imagine, where he truly and completely panicked.

    Gigantic electrical discharge arcs were leaping all over the apartment, hitting the computer, the mixing board, and all the gear in his studio. His most prized pieces of equipment were all being bombarded by what Peter could only assume was absolutely destructive amounts of discharged electricity. He felt his heart rate accelerate like a rocket booster, and his breath freeze in place while he tried to find the cause of it all. At the center of all this mayhem was the Eevee he brought home with him, but she wasn't an Eevee anymore.

    The Pokémon was bright yellow now instead of brown, with several pointed tufts of fur, and a more angled face. She was cowering on the floor, trembling like a leaf and holding her forepaws over her face, whimpering beneath the cracking hissing screams of the sparks. When she finally saw Peter, with huge terrified eyes, the bright yellow Pokémon cried out and scrambled clumsily to her feet, and came toward him.

    Peter froze for a moment, watching in horror as the not-Eevee brought her wake of electrical destruction closer and closer with each stumbling step. He remembered the Poké ball, and scrambled into his pocket to find it, only now realizing how clumsy his hands became in the moment–

    "Agh!" one of the discharge bolts landed on Peter's arm, causing it to spasm violently for a moment. The bright yellow Pokémon was only a few feet away now, gazing up at Peter through the sparks with a look pure fear on her face, and Peter felt he was staring back with the exact same expression.

    Peter finally wrenched the red-and-white sphere from his pocket, held it out in his trembling hand and shouted, "Return!"

    Thankfully the Poké ball worked exactly as it was supposed to, and the not-Eevee dematerialized in a bright flash, and was removed from the apartment, leaving an eerie silence.

    All Peter could do for a time was stand agape in wide-eyed shock, heart racing and chest heaving. Every last piece of audio equipment in his studio was bleeding a stream of black smoke, and the stench of vaporized metal from overloaded circuits stung in his nose. His music, is gear, everything he was working on, was reduced to a collection of smoking husks.

    Amidst the destruction, Peter saw the thunder stone and its display stand, knocked to the floor next to his desk...

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    Yup, another cliffhanger.

    At least this time we get a few things going: introduce some of the kids, drop a few hints. And still more to come.

    As always, feel free to shoot me any feedback you may have. I love to hear back from you.

    Edit Note 01/16/2018:
    I've done a few tweaks to staging and dialog, cleaned up some typos. No real major changes, mostly cleanup.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 3: Overload Bearing
    • Re: A Sine of Things to Come

    Overload Bearing​

    A good few hours had passed since Professor Jeremy Rose sent the fresh batch of junior trainers on their way. With luck they'd soon be arriving in nearby Viridian City, having whetted their eager appetites for the journey they'd only just begun. This would be the first batch of young trainers Professor Rose sent out since he took over day-to-day operations at the Pallet Town lab. Even when Oak spent more and more time away from the lab, when Jeremy Rose took care of more and more of the lab's legwork, old Samuel Oak would still make his way back to give another generation their send-off into the world as trainers. Admittedly it was a bit of a rougher start than what Professor Rose would've liked, with technical difficulties and the sudden onset of a storm, but it was the overcoming of such obstacles that made the journey all the more worth it, that made the experiences one earned hold that much more significance.

    The Professor mulled over this as he poured himself a hot cup of tea that had been brewing in the laboratory's kitchen, when a lab assistant approached him, full of concern, “Professor, there's a video call for you,” the assistant informed. “He says it's urgent.”

    “Who from?”

    “A rather distraught young man. He says his name is Peter Sine.”

    A flash of worry swept through Professor Rose. The tall man's rosy face suddenly went very pale, and his beaming smile vanished entirely. Without another word to his assistant, he abandoned his tea and started straight toward his computer. Why would Peter need to call him? What could've happened? It couldn't have been something to do with his Eevee, could it?

    It was only a few moments before Professor Rose returned to his desk, where his computer was displaying a video chat feed, where a grim faced visage of Peter Sine waited.

    “Professor,” the young man greeted dryly.

    “What's wrong?” the Professor asked as he settled into his chair. “You look shaken.”

    “It's the Pokémon you gave me,” Peter answered in a dull monotone. “I need you to take her back.”

    “I don't understand. You and Eevee seemed to get along so–”

    “She trashed my apartment!” Peter snapped all of a sudden. “All of the gear in my studio; the mixing board, the keyboard, the microphone, the computer; it's gone! It's all gone!”

    “What? How?”

    In a slow motion, Peter Sine held up a Thunder stone for the camera to see. It was grayed out, indicating that it was used up.

    “That little, innocent, Eevee found this in my apartment, and triggered an evolution,” the frustrated young man explained in a bitter tone. “She's not an Eevee anymore.”

    “So she's become a Jolteon already,” Professor Rose realized, only growing even more worried about what that meant. “That Eevee was barely away from her mother.”

    “That miniature apocalypse was firing off highly destructive electrical discharges all over my apartment from the moment it changed! I'm lucky she didn't start a fire that could've burned the building down, or even kill me!” Peter elaborated, while Professor Rose ran through options in his head. “That is why I am coming back to the lab, and you are going to take her back.”

    Peter was about to switch off the line of communication, until the Professor cut him short, “No no no hold on, wait!” he implored. “You're in Viridian City, correct?”

    “Yes,” Peter stepped aside, showing a quiet street that Professor Rose recognized as apart of Viridian City, “and I'm calling from a pay-phone outside, Professor, because my cel phone has been reduced to a paperweight.”

    “Take Jolteon to the gym there,” the professor suggested suddenly.

    “A gym challenge?” Peter asked as he leered back through the camera with skepticism.

    “Listen, just hear me out. The gym leader in Viridian City is an expert on Eevee and its evolved forms. He'll be able to help you, and Jolteon.” Professor Rose paused a moment, still seeing the bitter frustration eating at Peter, and he made a judgment call. “If it comforts you I will pay for the damages to your apartment and equipment, but please, take Jolteon to the gym and have the leader there look at her.”

    Peter took a few long moments to consider, and asked one more question. “And if he can't help?”

    “If he can't help, then there's no helping that poor Jolteon anyway.”

    “Fine, I'll go there,” Peter grunted, and the video call winked out in front of the Professor.

    The tall rosy-faced man let out a deep sigh of relief. Speaking of rough starts, this incident with the Jolteon was yet another snafu to add to his list. It was a bit of a risk to pay for Peter's damages, especially since it sounded like he had several pricey pieces of equipment ruined, but he had to take some responsibility for the hardships thrown in front of Peter Sine. Professor Rose could only hope the young man could find opportunity in the situation, instead of tossing this chance away all over again.

    Whatever may come though, there was one last call the professor had to make, and he rang the appropriate line on the video chat system.

    A few moments later, a young woman in a professional outfit greeted the Professor, “Viridian City League Gym. How can I help you?”

    “I need to speak with Blue Oak, immediately.”

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    Peter Sine walked up to the Viridian gym, up the staircase around the fountain out front. Both were made of fine marble, intricately carved in an impressive ornate style. He'd passed the gym a few times before when he went around the city, and even serviced some of the communication gear there, but Peter never had any direct contact with the gym leader himself. All he knew was that the leader was fairly young, closely related to Professor Oak, and could be hard to get a hold of sometimes.

    As Peter continued along the stone walkway toward the gym, between rows of marble columns, he noticed a figure casually leaning against the wall near the gym's front door. When he got closer, he saw the figure was a young brown haired man in a leather jacket, barely paying any attention to the area around him. He couldn't have been any older than Peter, possibly even a few years younger.

    “You Peter?” he asked Peter when they were close.

    “Yes,” Peter confirmed with a small nod.

    “Blue Oak, leader of the Viridian gym,” the leather clad young man said abruptly, and stepped inside the gym entrance, motioning for peter to follow, adding over his shoulder. “You'd better consider yourself damn lucky I'm even bothering with this.”

    “I was told you could help,” Peter said as he followed close behind.

    Blue waved passed the receptionist and continued straight through his gym's lobby without so much as a glance. The inside of the Viridian Gym was similarly ornate in its design as its exterior, if somewhat darker in its color scheme. The floors were a polished black granite, and the walls held several alcoves with statues; some of people, some of Pokémon.

    “Yeah, I can help, with a job far better suited for the Pokémon Center.” the young gym leader scoffed as he walked.

    “But the Professor–”

    “Is a snobbish, entitled jerk, trying to fill a pair of shoes that are just way too big for him,” Blue interrupted bitterly. “He hangs onto my gramps' coattails all these years, finally gets his tenure as an official Professor, and all of a sudden he thinks his word carries the same clout as the Samuel Oak. Already big Mr. smiley-face has me cleaning up his blunders, when he really ought to take care of this himself.”

    A door slid open in front of the pair, and they walked onto the main battle floor of the Viridian gym. The standard wide-open battling field was surrounded by a series of grand stone archways and columns, alluding to the long and proud history of the gym.

    None of it mattered to Peter at the moment, who was trying, seemingly in vain, to get the gym leader's attention, “I don't don't know what your problem is, but–”

    “Then let me tell you what my problem is,” Blue turned to Peter, motioning widely around him, his voice echoing through the battle floor. “I have a league gym to run: official challenges that I have to answer. I am here, in this building, to put trainers and their teams through their paces. I make them shed blood, sweat, and tears to make sure they're ready to earn the badge. Yet here I am, putting all that on hold, so I can do a checkup on some pet Jolteon.”

    “Who in their right minds keeps one of these as a pet?” Peter asked, fishing the Poké ball out of his pocket. He could've sworn he felt a small jolt of electricity shoot through his hand as he held the little sphere.

    “Most of Eevee's evolved forms are...” Blue trailed off, then sighed and rolled eyes as he said, “Whatever, let's just get this over with: send it out.”

    Peter obliged, and tossed the Poké ball to the floor in front of them. With the ubiquitous pop and flash, Jolteon materialized on the battle floor. The little yellow Pokémon was already engulfed in a torrent of electricity, firing off the same discharge arcs that wreaked havoc in Peter's apartment less than an hour ago. The hapless Jolteon simply cringed in fear, buckling herself down as close to the floor as she could.

    “Whoa...” Blue uttered. His tone had changed completely, and now he looked on Peter's Jolteon with an intrigued sense of concern. “Well, Professor Rose wasn't wrong about how bad it was.”

    “Do you know what's happening?”

    Instead of answering Peter, the gym leader produced a Poké ball from his jacket pocket and tossed it out next to Peter's Jolteon. With another pop and flash, a Jolteon of his own emerged, to which Blue ordered, “Blitz, give us a hand with this one!”

    Blitz gave a small acknowledging nod to its trainer, and approached Peter's terrified Jolteon. It didn't seen affected in the slightest by the barrage of electricity that struck it, and stood close, doing its best to reassure the young one. Peter's Jolteon looked back at the other, but made no motion toward it, still quite frightened. At the same time, the wild discharge arcs all were redirected into Blue's Jolteon, effectively containing the danger.

    “To answer your question, a number of things are happening here,” Blue began explaining. “When a Jolteon gets upset, or angry, or scared, it starts building up an electrical charge: basic fight-or-flight reaction. What's happening here though is a spontaneous, uncontrolled discharge. Your Jolteon is building up the charge alright, but it isn't dispersing built-up the energy in any controlled way, and just fires it off wildly instead. This can sometimes happen with Jolteon if the Eevee wasn't entirely ready to evolve, especially if it's a very strong one.”

    “Why is that?” Peter asked. “Isn't Jolteon is an electric type? Shouldn't it know what to do?”

    “Yes, but Eevees aren't electric type,” Blue said with a small shake of his head. “They aren't born with the innate knowledge and instincts of natural electric type Pokémon, like Pikachu are. They don't have prior experience or genetically ingrained instincts to guide them; they only become electric type from exposure to the thunder stone. When Eevee become Jolteon in their evolution, the capacity for channeling electrical energies is thrust suddenly upon them.”

    Blitz's attention, while it seemed effective to contain the dangerous discharges, didn't seem to make Peter's Jolteon any less anxious. She still kept hunkered down, even flinching away from the other Jolteon when it came close.

    “Normally this isn't too much of a problem,” Blue Oak continued. “A short adjustment period following the evolution, and the Jolteon can figure out the necessary skills on its own, most of the time. Considering just how young your Eevee was when the evolution was triggered though, and the sheer amount of power she seems to have the potential for... she just can't control it.” He motioned out to the pair of Jolteon, “Look at her: she's terrified, confused, and she's only making it worse for herself in this vicious cycle.”

    The young Jolteon spotted Peter nearby, and cried out in a desperate tone as she started to approach him. Blitz blocked her path though, much to the dismay of Peter's Jolteon, who cried out again as she gazed in worry at her owner.

    “What should be done?” Peter asked quietly as he watched the scene unfold before him.

    “One way or another, your Jolteon has to learn to control her new power, or she'll only cause more unwanted destruction...”

    Peter's Jolteon tried to jump out and rush toward him, but Blitz bit down on the scruff of her neck and dragged her back. The younger Pokémon protested with another cry as she squirmed in Blitz's grip, firing off another burst of electricity.

    “But like you said, she's terrified and confused, which means she's in no shape to learn anything,” Peter figured. He didn't show it, but it was difficult for him to see the the Pokémon struggle like this. There had to be something he could do to fix this...

    “You got that right,” Blue agreed. “Blitz can keep her company for a while. He'll keep your Jolteon safe, and it might help soothe her.”

    In response to another desperate fit, Blitz pinned the young unruly young Jolteon down on her side, holding her down under its forepaws while the other squealed in desperate protest. With her head against the floor, Peter's Jolteon stared back at him with wide, pleading eyes, and uttered a long mournful howl that reverberated throughout the battle floor, filling Peter's ears with the ringing of its cry. Seeing the scene before him, Peter Sine didn't believe that for a second that Blue's prescribed treatment would soothe the terrified young Jolteon. Something else had to be done...

    Then at that moment, something else is exactly what came to Peter's mind.

    “She needs me,” he said as he turned to Blue, a firm certainty to his words. “I need to go to her, that'll calm her down.”

    “Are you sure you want to do that?” the gym leader asked. “You're not going to be able to get close without getting hurt, and that's not going to help anybody.”

    “I'm aware...” Peter looked ahead again, where all he could do for the moment was watch the young Jolteon gaze back, and listen to her helpless pleas. Still, he had a plan, and got started on it, “I'll need a long extension chord and some tape, electrical tape if you have it.”

    “What exactly for?” Blue inquired.

    All Peter said as his answer was, “I've got an idea.”

    It seemed for a moment that Blue Oak might press him for more information, as he quizzically glanced between Peter and the two Jolteon. In the end though, he gave Peter the benefit of the doubt, and quickly made a call on his cel phone, to one of the gym staff it sounded like.

    “Get an extension cord and some electrical tape, and bring them to the battle floor...” Blue ordered. “Crack into the custodian's storage closet, it should all be there.”

    In the meantime, Blitz stepped off the young Jolteon, which simply laid helpless on the battle floor now, quivering as the discharge arcs fired off her body. Peter wasn't even sure if his idea would work at all, but it was the only idea that made sense at the time, and he had to at least try...

    Thankfully, not even a minute later, the receptionist the two had passed by earlier came onto the battle floor, carrying the extension cord and a roll of electrical tape as was requested.

    The instant Peter received the items, he pulled a multitool off his belt, flipped out the knife blade and cut off one end of the extension cord, revealing the three wires inside: the hot, neutral, and ground wires. He taped the hot and neutral wires away from each other and wrapped taped over the ends, taking great care to make sure a circuit wouldn't be completed between them. Then Peter striped the protective plastic coating off the ground wire, and taped the end of the cord to the back of his hand, with the bare copper of the ground wire extending just beyond his fingertips.

    “Plug the cord in,” he instructed to Blue, who did so with a small nod. Then Peter turned his attention to the two Pokémon on the battle floor in front of him, “Blitz, I need you to step away from my Jolteon, I'll handle her.”

    Blitz cocked its head toward Peter, and looked to Blue for further orders, who responded, “Let the man work Blitz, step back.”

    Blue's Jolteon gave an obedient nod and backed away from the other as ordered, while Peter stepped forward. As Blitz distanced itself from the other Jolteon, the sparks and discharge arcs picked up in intensity like they were before, no longer being safely contained by Blitz. The young Jolteon whined in a weak voice with her head hung low as she lay there, barely paying attention to her surroundings. She seemed to have given up hope, and Peter could hardly blame her, when all the Pokémon had ever done since her evolution was destroy everything that got close to it.

    Nevertheless, Peter Sine pressed forward, keeping his wired hand ahead as he approached Jolteon and entered the danger zone, where the uncontrolled discharge arcs flew out at random.

    With a loud snap, one of the bolts of electricity shot straight toward Peter, causing him to flinch at the noise and the half-expected electrical shock. Much to the young man's relief though, the bolt was caught by the exposed wire instead, completely missing his hand and leaving him unharmed. A few more steps closer, with the ground wire on his hand catching every spark and discharge arc, and Peter came within arms reach of Jolteon...

    The hapless Pokémon didn't even acknowledge Peter's presence, whimpering with her eyes closed and face buried in her forepaws, oblivious to everything around her. Even so, Peter knelt down next to the Jolteon, and laid his hand on the bright yellow fur of her back, just under the mane. Jolteon nearly jumped at the touch, releasing another blast of electricity that was again caught by the wire. Then the Jolteon saw that it was Peter, and stared back up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

    “You're gonna be okay little guy, I've got you,” Peter uttered quietly. He didn't know Jolteon understood, but it felt right to say it anyway...

    The Pokémon squealed as she jumped up and buried her face in Peter's chest. For a second, Peter was worried the Jolteon might accidentally shock him again, but it wasn't the case. The dangerous discharge arcs and sparks were gone. The only electricity Peter could feel now was a minuscule tingling sensation under his hands...

    It worked: he fixed it.

    That accomplished satisfaction alone was enough to spark a small sense of pride in Peter: the kind of pride one feels at the overcoming of a challenge, or solving a complex puzzle, but there was more here. In overcoming this particular puzzle, Peter was able to help an otherwise helpless creature in this Jolteon, who was now gratefully licking the man's face. He felt his face form a smile at the affection, and heard himself laugh as he scratched the Pokémon just behind her prominent ears.

    “I'll admit, I wouldn't have thought of that,” Blue Oak complimented as he approached the scene. “Nice work.”

    “It's just a crude grounding tether, like a miniature lightning rod,” Peter explained with a shrug as he removed the wire from his hand. “It catches discharges in the wire, redirects them into the building's grounding system through the power outlet, and ultimately into the ground through a series of grounding rods.”

    “Heh, funny enough, that's more or less exactly how Jolteon normally control excess charge.”

    “That so?” Peter asked, standing up.

    “Thing is, Jolteon have four such grounding rods,” Blue informed, holding up a hand with all fingers but his thumb extended, “they walk on them.”

    “The paws, huh?”

    “When Jolteon, and many other other electric types, build up an excess charge, and they can't simply discharge directly into their environment, they'll send the extra energy into the ground they're standing on to disperse it safely.” Blue crouched down in front of Peter's Jolteon, scrutinizing the young Pokémon through a tightly focus gaze. “This poor little pup here doesn't know how to do that yet, so she can only shoot out the energy every which way.”

    The young Jolteon shrunk away from the harsh gaze of the gym leader, slinking to the safety behind Peter's legs.

    “Then let's get started to change that,” Peter said as a sense of determination built up inside him.

    Blue nodded, and directed his attention to the other Jolteon waiting nearby, “Blitz, come here and give the little one a demonstration,” the gym leader ordered, motioning for his Pokémon to join the group.

    Once Blitz came close, Blue's Jolteon began to build up a charge. It's bright yellow fur stood up on end, and a few small sparks began arcing between the tufts. There was enough of a charge that Peter could even smell the electricity in the air. The younger Jolteon cringed at the sight though, uttering a quiet whine as the other neared. Peter crouched down, and stroked the worried Pokémon's back. The Jolteon was still a little anxious, but Peter's attention comforted her somewhat.

    Blitz held up a paw for a moment, and set it down on the ground. In an instant, the sparks all over its body disappeared, and its fur settled again as the charge was released. Then it cocked its head and gave a small yip at Peter's Jolteon, who cautiously stepped forward, pausing as she glanced back at the young man who'd helped her.

    “Go on, you got this,” Peter assured the Pokémon, and the Jolteon nodded before continuing on.

    With the young Jolteon at its side, Blitz repeated the cycle of building up a charge and dissipating it. Peter's Jolteon did her best to duplicate the process, building a charge, and attempting to disperse it in the same way. She had more than few mistakes though, firing off several errant bolts of electricity a fair number times as she tried. Blitz was able to safely catch the stray discharges though, and the tutoring continued. Peter mused that Blitz might be acting like a lightning rod, similar to his own trick with the extension cord...

    “Don't forget that Jolteon doesn't just build up a charge for nothing,” Blue Oak informed while the Jolteon practiced. “Electricity is the resource it draws upon to defend itself, allowing it to release the stored energy in concentrated bursts. It's the basic principle behind any Pokémon's electric type attacks, like a thunder shock.”

    “I see...” Peter replied, while he thoughtfully stroked the beard on his chin. “So the Pokémon acts just like a capacitor.”

    “A what?” Blue asked, eyebrow raised.

    “Never mind,” Peter dismissed, waiving it off as he said, “it's a technical term.”

    “Hmm...” the young gym leader murmured as he furrowed his eyebrows.

    As knowledgeable as Blue Oak was on the subject of Pokémon, Peter still sometimes forgot that his own area of technical expertise wasn't one most people weren't familiar with. As the minutes passed, the intermittent cracks of electricity became more and more sparse, until it nearly became silent on the battle floor. In reflection of the calming state of his training, Peter's Jolteon was gaining more control, more confidence in her movements.

    “I'd say your Jolteon looks like she's getting a grasp on the necessary basics. She should be safe now, but keep her practicing regularly just to be sure.” Blue turned to Peter, changing his tone to a more inquisitive one, “You are planning on keeping Jolteon, aren't you? Professor Rose mentioned that might be up in the air.”

    “I'm... not really sure,” Peter admitted, watching the young Pokémon entrusted to him. Jolteon was no longer the walking hazard she was mere hours before, but she also wasn't the innocent carefree Eevee just a few hours before that.

    “I'll tell you what: how about you take your Jolteon to the gym in Vermilion City, and let Surge take a look at her?” Blue suggested. “If you decide you don't want Jolteon when you get there, the Vermilion gym will make a great home for her. She'll be looked after by those who have experience and and in-depth understanding of what she'll need. If you decide you want to keep Jolteon though, Surge and the other gym trainers will be more than able to teach you about the finer points of electric types.”

    It seemed a sound option to Peter, a reasonable compromise, or an excuse to kick the can down the road if he were feeling cynical. Regardless, Peter Sine didn't have a clear answer whether to return Jolteon to Professor Rose as was his intention earlier, or if he would change his mind, and nurture the Pokémon that needed guidance. Even if Peter wouldn't be that guide, the Vermilion gym sounded like as good a place as any for Jolteon.

    “I'll keep it in mind,” Peter said with a nod.

    Blue Oak uttered a harsh whistle that got the attention of Blitz, and his Pokémon walked toward the gym leader obediently. At the same time, Peter's smaller Jolteon turned around to look back, ears perked up at attention. After a few moments, the young Pokémon followed Blitz, noticeably sluggish in her stride.

    “Blitz, return!” Blue called out as he raised the red and white Poké ball, catching the Jolteon in flash of light as it dematerialized, and ultimately disappeared.

    The other Jolteon's expression was a weary, worn out one in need of rest. When she was close, the bright yellow Pokémon let out a tired yawn as she slumped at Peter's feet. The young man crouched next to the Jolteon, and gently patted her on the head, feeling not even the slightest tingle of electricity at the touch anymore.

    “You did good little guy,” Peter said quietly, and removed the Poké ball from his pocket. “Return.”

    While he pocketed the little sphere, the gym leader turned to Peter, adding, “be sure to take your Jolteon to the Pokémon Center to recover her strength. Being as young and inexperienced as she is, even this simple training has taken a lot out of her.”

    “Of course,” Peter agreed, pocketing Jolteon's Poké ball as he stood up and looked to Blue. “Thanks for your help.”

    He offered the gym leader a handshake, which Blue returned, clasping Peter's hand in a firm grip.

    “Don't mention it.” Blue said, and clapped the other on the shoulder after he released the handshake, “I'll smell ya later.”

    “Yeah, you too,” Peter replied with an awkward smile, and he turned to leave the battle floor.

    “Oh, and tell that smug Professor Rosy-cheeks that he wins the bet:” Blue added after Peter had taken a few steps, “I owe him dinner.”

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    Sorry I took so long to get this chapter out. It was originally going to be longer, but I feel this comes to a good close here on its own, and any further material would be better suited to its own chapter later.

    Hope you liked it! Hopefully there's more to come, and sooner than this came.

    Edit notes 01/16/2018:
    Typo sweep, cleared up a few formatting errors. No major content changes.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 4: An Eclectic Charge
    • Re: A Sine of Things to Come

    Responses in spoiler tag.
    SerenaKetchum said:
    This was really fun to read. I'm drawn by your description and realism too. I think you're a very talented writer.
    Click to expand...

    Thank you so much your kind response!

    It's taken an absurdly long amount of time to get this next chapter out, partly because of writing blocks, partly because I've been busy, and partly because I have no excuse. I hope you enjoy this next next chapter, and I look forward to the thoughts and responses you have. Thanks again!

    * Ring! Ring! *

    “Hello, Donnovan Joule speaking.”

    “It's Peter.”

    “Pete? I didn't recognize the caller ID, you get a new phone or something?”

    “Yes, but that's not what I called for,” Peter answered wearily. “Something came up.”

    “You okay?” Donny asked with more than a little concern, “You sound beat.”

    “I'm fine, It's just... that Eevee, the one the Professor gave me, it evolved. The thunder stone you gave me triggered the evolution.”

    “Well good for you!” Donny said in hearty congratulations.

    “No, Donny, you don't understand...” and Peter went on to explain the fiasco with Jolteon and the training with Blue Oak that had only occurred minutes earlier, finally finishing with, “Even now, Jolteon is still shaky at best at controlling the new power.”

    “I see...” Donovan replied, sounding like he had many thoughts going on at once.

    “I called because I'm going on a trip to Vermilion City to take Jolteon to the gym there, and I need the time off.”

    “Say no more Peter!” Donny instantly responded, “Go, take Jolteon to Vermilion City, take all the time you need, I insist. Heck, after a crazy day like you had, the company is going to make you take at least a couple days off to recover, and I'm sure you could do with some time away anyway. Goodness knows you've saved up so much paid vacation time since you started. Use it already! You're supposed to!”

    “I'm just going to the Vermilion gym, I'll be back before you know it,” Peter said somewhat sheepishly over the phone. “It's not like I'm going on a training journey or anything.”

    “Alright, didn't mean to get carried away,” Donovan Joule said with a tone of finality, “You be safe out there Pete, and try to relax a bit while you're at it.”

    “Thanks a lot, I will,” Peter politely replied.

    “Don't mention it.”

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

    An Eclectic Charge

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

    The Next Day

    From a comfortable seat aboard the Magnet Train, Peter Sine watched the world go by through the window, while the young Jolteon in his lap propped herself up on her front paws and did the same. However, the young Pokémon was watching with much more awe and curiosity, so fascinated by the new world she'd never seen before, whereas Peter was still trying to straighten his thoughts out, trying to make some sense of what was going on with himself.

    After speaking with Donovan Joule and getting time off, the rest of that day was spent by Peter making arrangements for this trip. He purchased the magnet train ticket, packed the duffel bag now tucked under his seat with everything he needed for a few days of travel, and worked out arrangements with the landlord and Professor Rose.

    At least on that subject, the damages to the apartment itself were thankfully minimal and easily covered by the rental agreement's insurance. And since Professor Rose had agreed to pay the full price for Peter's damaged equipment, the young man had an ample surplus of funds to support his making the trip to Vermilion City. At some point though, he'd have to get all that gear replaced, but that'd be something to think about later. For now, the issue of this Jolteon, and what he would do about it, were first and foremost.

    Still, it seemed strange to Peter that Donovan was so insistent that he take the trip, practically pushing him out the door. Maybe it was just that subtle pressure Donny had given him before about Pokémon, about going out and training them again, and maybe Peter was just reading into things too much. Somehow though, he couldn't help the feeling that Donovan wasn't telling him something, something important...

    “Oh wow! What a cute Jolteon!” a young girl's voice squealed, wrenching Peter from his thoughts, nearly making him jump from his seat.

    An energetic girl, about seven years old Peter guessed, had rushed to the empty seat next to Peter, and leaned in close, entranced by the bright yellow Pokémon resting in his lap. Jolteon tilted her head at this newcomer, offering the child a perplexed look that reflected Peter's own sudden discomfort. It wasn't that Peter had any real dislike for kids, but this girl had rushed right up next to him, and he didn't really know what he was supposed to do, and so he ended up doing nothing.

    “Ilsa, leave the man be,” an older woman's voice urged in a gentle, but commanding tone.

    In the train car's isle, just beyond the girl, was a lady that Peter could only guess was Ilsa's mother, since they both had similar hair, skin tone and facial features. The girl responded to her mother's command and backed away from Peter, though she looked more than a little reluctant to do so as the woman put her hand on the girl's shoulder. With the mother's intervention, Jolteon seemed to relax, and took a small, tentative step into the empty seat next to Peter toward the girl.

    “I'm sorry about that,” the woman said with a polite bow of her head, “Ilsa is just so full of energy, she sometimes can't help herself if she really likes something.”

    “It's alright,” Peter assured with a polite smile as he scratched behind Jolteon's ear, to which the Pokémon purred in response, rubbing her head into the young man's hand. “She just surprised me is all.”

    “Mister, can I pet your Jolteon, please?” little Ilsa asked, gazing at Jolteon with wide, expectant eyes.

    Still unsure, Peter looked up to Ilsa's mother, maybe for some input. She must've seen that small confusion in Peter, and gave the young man a small approving nod, apparently satisfied that her daughter had politely asked permission instead of intruding into his space.

    “She's a little shy, but I don't see why not,” Peter answered, while Jolteon cocked her head, giving the young man a questioning look.

    “That's okay!” Ilsa squealed, and in her excitement practically pounced at the small yellow Pokémon.

    Jolteon though was caught off-guard by the sudden attention. She flinched at the girl's touch with a sharp yip, and sharp crack of electricity.

    “Ow!” Ilsa yelped as she jumped back, holding her hand with a look of utter shock.

    “Jolteon!” Peter scolded in a harsher tone than he'd intended, almost as shocked as the little girl was.

    At that, Jolteon jumped down off the seat and crept behind Peter's legs, where she cringed in fear; in that same confused terror Peter recognized from earlier. At the same time, Ilsa had backed away, clinging to her startled mother, the girl's expression and actions nearly mirroring those of the Pokémon that hurt her.

    In the meantime, Ilsa's mother was giving Peter an outraged glare that he could practically feel, like an icy chill from her eyes, as if the harm to her child was somehow his fault. In response, the young man only managed to mutter, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean–”

    “Hmph,” the mother huffed as she turned away, and led her upset daughter further down the isle.

    Frustrated, Peter shook his head and furrowed his brow as an exasperated grumble escaped his gritted teeth. Truly, it was incidents like this that really pushed Peter to make the trip. Even with the best of intentions, this Jolteon was still very dangerous, a walking hazard, not just to equipment or electronics, but to other people as well. There was no simply ignoring it, this absolutely had to be done–

    Peter felt something bump his free hand resting on his knee. He looked down, and saw Jolteon sitting there next to his knee, nuzzling his hand. The Pokémon looked back at him with a pair of wide, apologetic eyes and ears folded back, and let out a quiet whine as she nuzzled Peter's hand again.

    The young man let out a sigh and stroked Jolteon's head as he said, “I know you were scared, but the little girl wasn't going to hurt you. She just wanted to be friends.”

    Peter still wasn't sure if the Pokémon could fully understand him, or even if she cared. At least Jolteon seemed comforted by the attention though, as she rubbed herself against Peter's hand. Yet even now, when Jolteon was at her most content, Peter could still feel many small pinpricks of electricity jump to his hand as he scratched behind the Pokémon's ears. That couldn't possibly be normal, could it?

    That was another reason Peter was making the trip, probably the foremost one: because he simply didn't know. Despite all the hectic events that happened the day before; nearly falling to his death from a lightning strike, losing all the gear in his apartment, dealing with Blue Oak; it was not knowing about this Jolteon, not fully understanding what she needed, that truly bothered Peter the most. It was a problem, a mystery, a puzzle, a challenge, one he felt compelled to overcome himself, rather than trust someone else to do it for him.

    “Now arriving at Vermilion City,” a calm, prerecorded voice announced over the train's PA system.

    Immediately after, the Magnet Train gradually slowed down, and Peter gathered up his bag from under the seat and made his way down the isle toward the exit, while Jolteon trotted happily at his heels. Once the train came to a stop and the doors opened, Peter moved out of the train car onto the platform of the Vermilion City Station with all the other disembarking passengers.

    The station wasn't unreasonably busy for the time being, neither rushed nor empty. A quiet dull undertone of the many echoing conversations filled the air, occasionally punctuated by announcements over the station PA system. For a time, the Kanto-Johto Magnet Train didn't even have a line to connect it to Vermilion City, only going as far as Saffron City to the north. Yet in the time since the train was built, its popularity prompted the construction of new lines, connecting more of Kanto and Johto together. Still, Peter didn't have much interest in local history at the moment, not when he needed to see the local gym leader.

    Once they were out on the station platform, Peter turned around and looked at Jolteon, saying, “you need to keep your electricity under control while you're out here, or I'll have to return you to your ball, understand?” He held up the Poké ball for her to see, hopefully making his point clear.

    Jolteon replied with a shy look down, and gently pawed at the concrete beneath her feet. She seemed to know what Peter meant, and that was enough for him.

    Satisfied for now, Peter pocketed the Poké ball and proceeded through the bustling train station, and ultimately to where the Vermilion gym was. Being a host to a major League Gym for the Kanto Region, getting to the gym itself was thankfully straightforward. All Peter had to do to find it was pick up a visitor's guide pamphlet in the station, which had a rudimentary map showing the Vermilion gym's location, and follow the directions.

    In a lot of ways, Vermilion City reminded Peter of Viridian City: both were lively urban centers, as well as host to prominent League Gyms, though this city had its own unique traits. Instead of bracing mountain breezes blowing off the Kanto/Johto dividing range the way Viridian City had, Vermilion City had cool salty gusts from the ocean, with a busy port to compliment it. In fact, the Vermilion gym itself was built on an old shipping pier, jutting right out into the bay. It seemed a more appropriate place for a Water-type gym than an Electric-type.

    As Peter approached the gym's entrance though, there was no doubt about its type specialization. The structure was a fairly straightforward steeple construction with clean, angular lines, adorned with several gigantic, stylized lightning bolts. These bold architectural choices for the gym seemed dated and garish to Peter, like something that had been out of style for a few decades. Still, he wasn't here to be an architecture critic, and he made his way inside.

    Stepping into the front door of the Vermilion gym, Peter found himself in a reception area, similar in structure to the Viridian gym with the same, probably standardized amenities. This gym's interior however had no vintage or classical styling whatsoever, and was all straight clean lines and subdued metallic highlights. It all looked as if it was made strictly for function instead of form, which itself was a kind of aesthetic choice Peter supposed. The leader was called 'Lieutenant Surge' after all, and these spartan, utilitarian design choices would certainly reflect a military background.

    All the while, Jolteon followed close behind Peter, trying to glean some comfort from the proximity to him.

    In the center of the lobby was the gym's reception desk. A thin, bored looking man in about his mid thirties, sporting a long blond ponytail, was sitting behind it. He barely looked up when Peter approached, and only asked, “need something?”

    “I'm Peter Sine, here to see Surge,” Peter answered.

    “He can't see visitors right now,” the receptionist replied flatly. “Come back later.”

    “But, I need his help–”

    “Later,” the man grumbled, with a greater and more irritated emphasis.

    A small flash of irritation shot through Peter, and he felt his hand reflexively form into a fist at his side. Just when Peter was about to explain the situation, probably with a more irate tone than he'd do normally, he heard a set of footsteps as someone else stepped in to the lobby, and a polite, gentlemanly voice say, “it's quite alright, Vincent. I'll take it from here.”

    Peter turned, and saw that the voice belonged to an older, gentle faced man, between fifty or sixty years old he guessed. He was dressed sharply in a dark three-piece suit, and carried a thin briefcase in one hand.

    “My sincerest apologies, Peter. I am Gregory Voltaire,” the man said as as he approached, then set down his briefcase and offered his hand, which Peter graciously shook. “Surge is currently battling a challenger, but you are of course quite welcome to sit in and watch the battle while you wait to see him. Right this way please.”

    At that, Gregory picked up the case again and led Peter out of the lobby into a corridor, just as barren and sparsely decorated as the lobby. “You'll have to forgive Vincent, he doesn't normally cover the reception desk, and sometimes he is unclear on his duties. That is usually my responsibility.”

    “And you aren't there now?” Peter asked, glancing quickly back toward the lobby

    “You've met him,” the older man began, “I daresay you can understand why I don't entirely trust Vincent to make an important guest feel welcome.”

    “I'm important?” Peter asked as he followed, surprised.

    “Ah. yes, I suppose that's just like him,” Gregory said calmly, seemingly unperturbed, “Blue Oak called ahead about your Jolteon predicament: we've been expecting you.”

    Just then, the ground beneath Peter, Jolteon and Gregory quaked, and the low sound of a heavy impact reverberated through the corridor. Peter was nearly thrown off his feet at the sudden shaking as he yelped, “What the– Is that earthquake going on?!”

    “Indeed it is, as a matter of fact,” Gregory replied.

    The older gentleman seemed completely unaffected by the shaking floor, keeping immaculate posture as he continued toward the double door just ahead. Once there, Gregory motioned for Peter to enter the door first, which he did, closely followed by the unsure Jolteon poking her nose around the corner, and Gregory shortly thereafter.

    The double door opened up to the gym's expansive battlefield. Like the rest of the Vermilion gym, it was minimalistic in its design: the field itself was a simple rectangle of packed earth, the metal lined walls stood blank and unadorned by any ornamentation whatsoever, while the space was lit by several banks of bright lights hung overhead. Much of the space though was obscured by dust, kicked up from the packed-earth arena floor Peter guessed, which was only just settling, revealing a few more details.

    There were three people present in the arena, and two Pokémon. One man was standing off to the side of the battlefield in the referee's position, keenly observing the others, and paid no attention to the newcomers.

    At one end of the battlefield was a determined looking girl, about twelve or so by Peter's guess. She had a sturdy traveling outfit on, with her sandy colored hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. She must've been the challenger; she looked similar to so many other trainers Peter had seen pass through Viridian City to challenge Blue, all with that same fierce look that wouldn't accept defeat. In front of her was her Pokémon: a short, stocky black and gray creature with sharp tusks, and a trunk that looked more like a tire tread than something organic.

    At the opposite side of the battlefield stood the man who could only have been Lieutenant Surge. He was an exceptionally physically fit man dressed in a set of military style fatigues, and looked just shy of being middle-aged. His pale blond hair was spiked up with some sort of hair product, and a pair of sunglasses obscured his eyes, while the rest of his visible face sported a grim look. In front of Surge was his Pokémon: a simple half red and half white sphere, but it was covered in dust, scraped, battered, and wasn't making a single move as the gym leader looked on...

    “Right this way, Peter,” Gregory directed, motioning toward a wide bench nearby to the side of the battlefield. In a few moments, they were both seated, watching the battle as it unfolded.

    “Electrode is unable to battle!” the referee announced as the dust settled. “The Challenger's Donphan wins!”

    “Hmph. That's enough of that, return,” Surge grunted as he held out a Pokéball, and the Electrode disappeared into it with a flash.

    “Your wimpy Electrode never stood a chance!” the girl gloated from across the battlefield, her words inflated with pride in her Donphan's victory. “That Thunder Badge is as good as mine!”

    In response to its trainer, the Donphan reared up on its stumpy hind legs and let out a proud trumpeting bellow. When the Pokémon stomped back onto all fours, the reverberations were felt all through the battlefield, including by Peter and Jolteon, at which the little yellow Pokémon cringed worriedly.

    “You think so? The battle's barely started little lady,” Surge said calmly as he readied a new Pokéball, which he threw onto the field with great gusto. “Magneton, go!”

    With a familiar pop and flash, a Magneton emerged, hovering a few feet above the dusty floor. This Magneton seemed to be in much better condition than Donovan's Amp, being polished to a mirror-like shine, and emitting a powerful bass hum that resonated across the battlefield as it readied itself. Surge looked on with grim pride, silently daring the challenger to make her next move, which she promptly did.

    “Really? Magneton? That'll go down even easier!” the girl responded with a cocky grin, and turned her attention to her Pokémon. “Donphan, give that hunk of bolts your Earthquake!”

    An eyebrow rose from behind Surge's sunglasses and a smirk tugged at his lips, then he quickly called out, “Magneton, use Magnet Rise, outta the way!”

    With a hearty snort, the challenger's Donphan jumped straight up, coiling itself into a dizzying spinning wheel shape. When it hit the ground, the entire battlefield shook under the impact, kicking up another torrent of dust and nearly knocking Peter off his feet.

    Surge however stood undaunted, not the least bit fazed by the powerful Earthquake Donphan had used, while his Magneton rose out of the dust high above the battered floor.

    The opposing girl looked up with a small huff of frustration, but by no means worried as she called back, “so you think that's clever, huh? Donphan, use Fire Fang!”

    “Supersonic!” Surge's voice shot back at nearly the same time.

    After charging forward, the challenger's Donphan sprang up from the dust-clouded floor at Surge's Magneton, it's sharp tusks enveloped by bright flames. At the same time, an ear-splitting screech rang through the battlefield, actually causing a pain in Peter's head that wouldn't go away, even if he covered his ears. However, the screeching noise abruptly ended with a sudden metallic clang!

    When Peter looked up, now thankfully free of the noise, he saw a part of Surge's Magneton glowing bright red and warped from heat where Donphan's attack had struck. The challenger's Pokémon, while apparently unharmed, seemed to have other troubles, as it shook its head with an annoyed snort when it returned to its spot on the battlefield.

    “Alright, Donphan!” the girl said with satisfaction, raising her fist up in confident pride. “One more good hit like that and Magneton is going down.”

    “Don't be too sure,” Surge warned with a small chuckle before calling out, “Flash Cannon!”

    “Fire Fang again!” the challenger shouted back.

    Donphan cocked its head, seemingly unsure what to do. After a second, the stocky gray-and-black Pokémon charged straight forward, but didn't get further than three feet before it stumbled, tripped, and landed head-first into the ground, sliding another couple feet before tumbling to a stop. Floating ominously above the opposing Pokémon, Magneton's low bass hum Peter heard earlier now rose to a buzzing fever pitch as its magnets spun and twirled wildly. Then all movement came to a halt, and Magneton blasted a beam of pure white light into the challenger's hapless Donphan.

    When it was hit by Flash Cannon's beam, the sprawled gray-and-black Pokémon thrashed and screamed in pain, causing Jolteon to duck behind Peter's legs as she watched in horror. All Peter could do was lay a comforting hand on the trembling young Pokémon, saying, “it's okay. You don't need to worry–”

    “Donphan, no!” the challenger cried out, seeing her Pokémon laying motionless on the battlefield.

    “Donphan can no longer battle! Magneton wins!” the referee announced.

    Lieutenant Surge folded his arms across his broad chest and scoffed as he quipped, “I hope you weren't planning to sweep up my whole team with just that Donphan.”

    “Return,” the girl said through gritted teeth as she put her Donphan away, and prepared another Pokéball with fiery glint in her eyes. “We're not done yet, not even close. Meganium go!”

    The challenger thew the new Pokéball onto the battlefield, and with the same pop and flash, a tall, green sauropod-like Pokémon with what looked like a blooming flower at its neck emerged, giving a hearty call as it settled on its great legs.

    “I like your style little lady,” Surge replied with an amused smirk, before ordering. “Magneton, metal sound!”

    At Surge's command, Magneton emitted another ear-splitting screech, only this one sounded like giant rusty steel plates grinding against one another, making all who heard it wince at the agonizing noise, causing Peter to lose focus for a second. The challenger's Meganium looked like it had similar issues, as it ducked its head low, cringing in severe discomfort.

    “Fight through it Meganium!” the girl called out over the screeching noise, “Use Energy Ball!”

    Upon hearing its trainer the Meganium reared its head back, and a sphere of swirling green light appeared just above its nose. When the Pokémon flung its head forward, the Energy Ball shot toward Magneton and struck its target cleanly, cutting off the painful noise of its Metal Sound in the process. At the impact of the Energy ball, Surge's Magneton collapsed to the floor with loud clatter, and fell apart in a in a cluttered heap at the gym leader's feet.

    “Magneton is unable to battle. Meganium wins!” the referee dutifully announced.

    “You did good soldier, return and recharge,” Surge said as he held up Magneton's Pokéball and returned the battered steel jumble.

    “You've only got one Pokémon left, Surge,” the opposing girl said, brimming with confidence behind her Meganium.

    “And we save the best for last,” the gym leader said as he tossed a new Pokéball out in front of him. After the pop and flash, an orange rodent with a long, wire-like tail and sharp ears emerged.

    “You ready Raichu?” Surge asked, to which the new Pokémon replied with a confident yip, and it went into a ready pose. Satisfied, the gym leader called out, “then hit it with it a Thunderbolt!”

    “Hmph,” the challenger scoffed, unimpressed by Surge's Raichu, and gave her orders, “Meganium, Toxic!”

    With a great buzzing and crackling of electricity, Raichu was engulfed by a bright corona of sparks, before one giant bolt arced across the battlefield at the challenger's Meganium, striking the target Pokémon squarely, sending sparking arcs all over Meganium. Meganium wasn't out though, and at the end of it, the Pokémon flung one small, unpleasant looking gaseous pellet back at Raichu, which burst on the small rodent, releasing a foul-smelling odor that even Peter could smell from that distance. After a second, with the gas filling Raichu's lungs, the little Pokémon released a cough, and started to look unpleasant and sickly.

    “You'll need more than that to take down Meganium,” the girl said with a smug look.

    “Got that right,” Surge happily agreed, and ordered his Raichu, “give it another Thunderbolt!”

    “What, again?” the challenger asked, confused. “You know what doing the same thing over and over after it doesn't work is, right?”

    With another great crack, Raichu fired another thunderbolt at the opposing Meganium, which cringed and twitched at all the electricity jolting through it, before it collapsed heavily to the floor with a heavy thud.

    While the girl stood speechless, mouth hanging agape, Surge coyly answered the question she had jokingly posed just before, “Sure do little lady: persistence.”

    “Meganium is unable to battle. Raichu wins!” the referee announced heartily.

    With a sigh, the challenger held out a Pokéball and returned her defeated Meganium, saying, “I don't understand, Meganium should've been able to take more hits than that.”

    “And I'm sure it could have, normally,” Surge agreed, and explained further, “but your Meganium's ears were still ringing from Magneton's Metal Sound, making it an easy target for Raichu's Thunderbolts.” in response, Raichu struck a proud pose, while still sniffling from the poison in its system.

    “Smart play, but I've still got one more to go.” the girl said as she tossed out another Pokéball. “Let's do this Quagsire!”

    Another pop-and-flash, and the challenger's final Pokémon emerged. It was a short, stocky, dopey faced creature with smooth blue skin and beady eyes, and an expression that appeared to be just a dull happiness.

    “It's over, Surge,” the girl announced with utter confidence. “Your Raichu can only go on for so long before the poison takes it out, and Quagsire will outlast whatever you've got.”

    “Oh yeah? Then outlast this!” Surge bellowed. “Let'em have it, Raichu! Grass Knot!”

    At the order, Raichu sprang down on all fours, and channeled an energy into the ground. An instant later, thick blades of grass sprang up from the packed earth of the floor at Quagsire's feet. The green blades quickly wrapped themselves all around the Pokémon, whose beady little eyes suddenly got a lot wider at the constriction, and slammed Quagsire to the floor with heavy thump.

    “What!?” the girl gasped, completely taken aback.

    When the grass blades receded, Quagsire didn't get up again, and simply lay sprawled on the floor in front of its distraught trainer.

    “Quagsire is down. All of the challenger's Pokémon are unable to battle. The gym leader Lieutenant Surge wins!” the referee proudly announced.

    “I lost?” the girl said quietly as she held out a Pokéball and returned her beaten Quagsire. “I thought I was prepared to take on an electric gym.”

    In that time, Lieutenant Surge had stepped across the battlefield, and calmly responded to the downtrodden challenger's concerns, “you're in a whole other league now, little lady. We don't pull our punches with a seven-badge challenger: we plan ahead, and prepare our teams to cover our weaknesses. When you can think a step ahead of me, you'll defeat me, and earn the right to carry my Thunder Badge.”

    In a gesture of respect, Surge held out his hand, which the challenger shook, and looked back at the gym leader with a steely glint in her eyes, saying, “this isn't over, Surge.”

    “I sure hope not,” the gym leader replied with hearty chuckle. “It was a good battle, and I can't wait to have another just as good.”

    “Then I won't make you wait long,” the girl said as she turned away, and exited the the battlefield.

    As the challenger neared the door, she passed the bench where Gregory and Peter were sitting, and Peter caught a closer glimpse of the girl. Though she did her best to hide it, to put on a graceful face in the face of defeat, she actually looked very distraught. Her eyes were downcast in a frustrated glare, as if she'd experienced a great injustice, or treated worse than she felt she deserved–

    “Peter...” Gregory said, getting the young man's attention. He'd already gotten up from the bench, and motioned for Peter to do the same as he invited him onto the battlefield, where Lt. Surge and the referee were having a brief exchange. Most of it was just garbled mumbles at this distance for Peter, but when he and Jolteon came closer, the conversation was clear as a bell.

    “Horton, take these guys to the Pokémon Center right away,” Surge ordered the referee, handing him three Pokéballs. “They had one heck of a match, and need all the rest they can get.”

    “You got it, boss,” Horton replied with a nod, accepting the Pokéballs and the task that came with them, before he too turned and left the battlefield.

    As Surge watched Horton leave, he also spotted Gregory and Peter as they approached. “Gregory, is this who I think it is?” he asked, gesturing toward Peter.

    “Peter Sine, sir,” the young man answered, offering the small polite small bow that was common courtesy in Kanto.

    “He's the young man Blue Oak called ahead about yesterday,” Gregory confirmed.

    “Ah! Glad to see you made it!” Surge chortled, giving Peter a hearty slap on the shoulder that jarred the young man. “You catch the battle?”

    “I did, yeah,” Peter replied, gathering himself up. “You seemed a little harsh on that challenger though.”

    “Nah, that Johto girl's got way too much spunk to let it get to her.” Surge said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “A close defeat like that is only gonna only fire her up and spur her on. She'll be back, and she'll be ready I'll bet.”

    “Wait, she's from Johto?” Peter asked, a little confused. "What's she doing here?"

    “It's a bit of a weird situation, but it'll work out alright I think,” the gym leader answered with a shrug. When he saw Peter's interested gaze though, Surge explained further, “that last challenger is working to enter the Indigo League, and needs an eighth badge to do it. Problem is, one of the Johto regional gym leaders has gone missing and there's no replacement yet, which means she can only get seven there for now. Spunky girl that she is though, instead of waiting for another gym leader to step in for the Johto region, she hopped a boat here to Kanto and challenged me for her eighth badge! Ha! Gotta admire that drive in her, she'll be going places I bet.”

    “The League allows that?” Peter asked, perplexed. He wasn't too familiar with the minutia of Leage policies, but it still seemed out of place somehow. From what he understood, the eight qualifying badges for the Indigo League needed to be from the same region, either Kanto or Johto, not a mix of both.

    “Given the circumstances, the big-wigs in the League made an exception. Don't you worry though, every Gym Leader in Kanto is more than qualified to handle the situation,” Surge assured, then quickly changed tone as he got back on subject. “Enough about that though, you aren't here to blabber on about League politics. From what Blue grumbled about over the phone yesterday, there's something up with a Jolteon, yeah?”

    “That's right,” Peter confirmed with a nod. “Come on little guy, don't be shy...” he stepped aside to present Jolteon to Surge.

    “She's having trouble controlling his power. If she gets upset or scared, she'll fire off electricity at random, and she has trouble stopping it once it starts,” Peter explained.

    “She sure is a cute little spark, ain't she?...” Surge commented as he crouched down in front of Jolteon, slightly lowering his dark glasses to give the Pokémon a keen scrutinizing look. In response, Jolteon tentatively stepped forward, sniffing the air in front of the gym leader. After a few moments, Surge reached out and gently scratched Jolteon along her back, further commenting, “She's way younger than I recommend for evolution, that's for sure, but that was out of your hands from what I understand. Not only that, but it does feel like she's got a ton of power potential. It's a smart move that you've brought her here.”

    “So what can I do to help her?” Peter asked, impressed that the gym leader could judge Jolteon's power on touch alone. He must've felt that same tingling of electricity Peter felt earlier.

    “Well that all depends,” Surge responded as he stood up, towering over the Pokémon at his feet. “Has Jolteon fought in any battles?”

    “None yet,” Peter answered, shaking his head.

    “Then it's about time we change that,” Surge said as he stepped away and prepared a Pokéball, which he tossed out in front of him to the battlefield. “Elekid, go!”

    With the familiar pop and flash, a small bright yellow egg-shaped Pokémon emerged, and struck a fierce pose, insofar as it could at least, given it's less-than-threatening look. Jolteon though flinched at the sudden appearance of Elekid so close by, nearly jumping away. That's when Peter recognized Jolteon's power buildup, with much of her fur standing up on end and small crackles of electricity arcing between the tufts.

    “Easy Jolteon, you're gonna be alright,” Peter said, hoping to calm the Pokémon down, keep her under control. At hearing his voice, Jolteon seem reassured, and she eyed the new Elekid with a weary curiosity,

    “Alright, a battle it is then,” Peter told the gym leader, if a little reluctantly, “but I don't even know all of what Jolteon can do.”

    “That's okay, that's exactly what we're here to find out,” Surge assured. “Besides, I can tell you one move your Jolteon definitely knows already, and could be helpful against my Elekid: Charm,” he said, giving a big goofy grin and a proud thumb-up pose.

    “Charm?” Peter asked in a skeptical tone, with a now highly skewed eyebrow on his face.

    “Oh you bet!” Surge guffawed, motioning toward Jolteon, which seemed equally confused now. “Just look at that face: ain't she just the most adorable little thing you ever seen? Makes you wanna mellow out and relax instead of fight, doesn't she?”

    “Uh, yeah...” Peter said, scratching the back of head, “but how exactly is she supposed to use that cuteness in a battle?”

    “How indeed?” Gregory said as he stepped in, placing himself at one side of the battlefield between Surge an Peter. “When Jolteon directs her appealing charm toward the opponent, the target can be put at ease, and will be less inclined to put full force behind its attacks. It's an effective defensive measure that Jolteon can put it to good use, and she looks just precious doing it as well.”

    “Go on Peter, let's see Jolteon try it here,” Surge suggested.

    “Okay then. Jolteon, use Charm on Elekid,” Peter commanded. The Pokémon seemed confused though, and simply looked back at Peter, tilting her head to one side, at which Peter further explained, “make that face you always do with me, only do it with Elekid.”

    At that, Jolteon's ears stood up, and the Pokémon turned her attention forward again to the opposing Elekid. Striking a low-crouching pose that Peter had seen a few times before, Jolteon looked to the Elekid with big, appealing eyes. The Elekid for its part did seem affected by the attention, losing much of the aggressive bluster in its stance that it started the battle with, and stood much more relaxed.

    “Elekid, Low Kick!” Surge ordered.

    On hearing the order, Surge's Elekid let out a reluctant sigh, and halfheartedly advanced toward Peter's Jolteon. The Elekid did perform a low sweeping kick, but completely lacked the discipline, accuracy or follow-through Peter would've expected. All Jolteon had to do was step out of the way, and the attack, if it could even be called that now, completely missed.

    “See that?” Surge said proudly. “Thanks to Charm, Jolteon barely had to lift a paw to avoid Elekid's attack, even without any training whatsoever.”

    “Huh, utilized cuteness, I'd never have thought,” Peter said, genuinely surprised, as it was the last thing he'd have expected would be of use in a fight. Still, it had been so long since he'd participated in a battle, some of the more intricate battle techniques had been lost on him, or never would've occurred to him in the first place.

    “There are a great many useful techniques Pokémon can learn, many of which are not entirely obvious,” Gregory explained from the sidelines. “Knowing which ones they can learn and what they can do can potentially turn the tide of battle in an instant.”

    “Like your Raichu's Grass Knot?” Peter asked, remembering the challenger battle before. The young man could definitely begin to see why people could be drawn to advanced battling. There was so much that he needed to learn now, so many ins and outs, so many possibly unexpected turns...

    “That's right,” Surge said with a quick nod. “But of course Jolteon is an electric type, and not even this little spark can win battles with her cuteness alone.” An eager expression formed on the gym leader's face, and he pumped his fist, saying, “come on Peter! Let's see this power I heard so much about!”

    “If it's power you want, then it's power you've got,” Peter Sine said with far more confidence than he knew he had. “Jolteon, use Thunder Shock, and give it your all!”

    Jolteon promptly obliged with a fierce howl, and was instantly engulfed in bright flash of light as she discharged the stored electrical energy. The gym battlefield echoed and resonated at the immense power emanating from Jolteon, filled with a chorus of sharp snapping and crackling, accompanied with low buzzing undertones. Seeing and hearing all this in front of him, Peter Sine couldn't help but feel a sense of awe, and even pride, that his Jolteon was capable of so much...

    Then that sense of awe evaporated in an instant, replaced with a sudden fear.

    Instead of directing the electricity directly at the target as Jolteon was supposed to, the sparks and discharge arcs simply flew out at random, going every which way, and didn't stop. It was exactly what had happened in his apartment before, what had happened when he first presented Jolteon to Blue Oak.

    Then through the buzzing crackling torrent of electricity, Peter heard that desperate, terrified cry from Jolteon, and his heat nearly froze.

    One of the larger discharge arcs landed at Peter's feet, jolting the young man from his petrified stupor, and he sprang into action.

    “Careful Jolteon!” Peter shouted over the noise as loud as he could. “Remember the training with Blue! Direct the energy into the ground through your paws! You have to do it now!”

    Almost at once, the electricity dissipated, extinguishing the dazzling light show, and cutting off the noise, though its echoes lingered on for some time within the battlefield.

    Elekid didn't seem the least bit hurt, but did appear a little startled, while Surge looked on from behind it with a stern expression.

    Jolteon though was in much worse shape. The small yellow Pokémon simply stood there on the battlefield, trembling like a leaf, absolutely terrified.

    “Alright then, I've seen enough. I'm ending the battle,” Surge said in a firm tone as he held out a Pokéball. “Elekid, return.” and the Elekid vanished.

    All other thoughts were gone from his mind when Peter rushed onto the battlefield to Jolteon, he simply had to calm her down. Just as he got to Jolteon and knelt down to her level, the drained Pokémon collapsed, and Peter only just caught Jolteon.

    “You're okay little guy. You're gonna be fine, I got you,” the startled young man said, his tone wavering as he spoke to the Pokémon in his arms.

    On seeing and hearing Peter, Jolteon nuzzled herself into Peter's chest, or tired to. The Pokémon was so weak, so exhausted, that she could barely let out a relieved whine, and simply laid her head down on Peter's arm.

    His breath still heaving as he recovered from the panic, Peter looked to Surge, and said, “right, so you've seen Jolteon in action. What now?”

    The gym leader didn't speak right away, and simply stepped softly across the battlefield toward Peter and Jolteon, before he finally said. “There was a heck of a lot of flash in that Thunder Shock, but not much bang.”

    “I thought this Jolteon was powerful.”

    “Oh but she is, she's one of the most powerful I've ever seen, even at this early stage,” Surge clarified, “but so much of that power is lost, scattered, unfocused.”

    “Right, because she can't control it,” Peter said with a sigh, and gently petted Jolteon.

    “Well then Peter, it's time,” the gym leader said as he laid hand on Peter's shoulder, looking down at the Jolteon resting in his arms. “You know I can't in good conscious allow a Jolteon this powerful that can't control its own energy to stay in untrained hands. I'm set in my decision: Jolteon stays here at the Vermilion gym, where she can learn to control her power in a safe, controlled environment.”

    “I... I understand,” Peter said weakly with a knowing nod, his eyes downcast.

    “But that doesn't mean you have to leave,” Surge said quickly, stepping out in front of the other.

    “Huh?” Peter uttered, and looked up, and Jolteon did the same.

    “I'd like to keep you around, and train you as you train Jolteon,” Surge said as he offered a hand to Peter.

    “But I haven't used Pokémon for years,” Peter said as he stood up, satisfied that Jolteon had recovered from the shock of the battle, “and I was never any good anyway.”

    “That's not what I saw in you today, Peter,” Surge said as he shook his head. “I saw someone thinking on his feet, someone who learns fast and learns right, and who shows great respect and care for his Pokémon. I saw exactly the kind of person who could become an outstanding trainer, if you're up for the challenge ahead that is.”

    “What sort of challenge are we talking about?” Peter asked, with Jolteon standing now next to him, if still a little weary.

    “Not gonna sugar-coat it: training this Jolteon is gonna be a tall order,” Surge began, giving the Pokémon a steady gaze as he explained. “The regimen I have planed will be tough, brutal, dangerous even, and will demand a ton of patience before any results are seen. Despite that, I want you, and you specifically, to train Jolteon. Firstly it's because you two share such a close bond, a bond that will make things much easier on Jolteon, help the little spark through the tough times she'll face ahead. Secondly, I wouldn't even be proposing you train Jolteon yourself if I didn't see the potential in you that I saw just now.”

    “You're serious then.”

    “Dead serious,” the gym leader confirmed with a firm nod, and crossed his arms across his chest. “It's on you now, Peter. What do you say? You up for this?”

    Peter didn't need convincing, not anymore. He may have had doubts beforehand, but now there was much to learn, much to find out, and if he could put the new knowledge to good use, all the better. He knew what his answer was.

    “I'll do whatever it takes, and learn whatever I can,” Peter said, his words brimming with a renewed confidence.

    “That's what I like to hear!” Surge said, giving Peter another hearty slap on the shoulder.

    “When do I start?”

    “Tomorrow morning, be here and ready to go at eight o-clock sharp,” Surge replied, “I've got a busy day today with all these challengers headed my way, and I'll need some time to set things up for you and Jolteon. So until then, rest up, take it easy.”

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
    ​
    Edit Notes 01/16/2018:
    Grammar and formatting cleanup. no major content changes.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 5: Alt. Current State of Affairs
    • Re: A Sine of Things to Come


    There was a titanic, ear-rending crack and blinding flash. The brilliant white bolt danced across the swiftly shifting clouds overhead for several seconds, splitting into several smaller branches, crossing the breadth of the sky itself, before it finally flickered out. It was lighting, that much was clear, but it was lightning on a cataclysmic scale he never could have imagined.

    Once the lightning had finished, his vision cleared, and he could see he was at the bottom of a small grassy hill. A short distance ahead of him was Jolteon, standing at the crest of the hill. The Pokémon looked back at Peter and gave a sharp yip, beckoning for him? In just her stance and action alone, Peter saw the young Pokémon display a steadiness, a confidence, an absolute certainty never once seen in the few days they'd been together. It was as if Jolteon had grown up, and matured far beyond herself...

    Behind Jolteon though, against the ever-shifting gray of the clouds, was red-orange glow, lining the entire edge of the hill, eerily silhouetting Jolteon against the horizon. Now that the ringing in his ears from the thunder had faded, Peter noticed another sound: a pervasive low rumble, a constant but unyielding roar that became the background for all else. If there were any doubts that it was fire before, a scent of burning wood and ash all but confirmed that it was. Perhaps it was started from the lightning.

    Pondering this, Peter climbed the hill toward Jolteon, but Jolteon ran ahead, disappearing over the crest of the hill.

    “Jolteon, wait!” Peter cried out, chasing faster after the Pokémon.

    A sudden, harsh gust of wind swept across the hill, almost toppling him up from the shock. Though the air was dry as tinder, the wind still stung with an icy chill that cut to the bone. That couldn't have possibly been normal, not after hearing, seeing, and even smelling the ambient effects of fire...

    When Peter came over the crest of the hill, he came upon a scene that could be summed up as 'hellish', but there was more to it. He recognized the landscape as a place in Kanto, a few miles outside of Pallet town, with Viridian forest nearby to one side, and the ocean in the distance to the south. That's where the familiarity ended though: the entirety of Viridian forest was burning. Every tree he could see, every scrap of vegetation more than a hundred yards out, was engulfed in the great inferno. The ocean to the other side was no less tumultuous, as it churned and heaved, crashing against the shoreline with the largest storm swells Peter had ever seen.

    Before the horror of it all could sink in for Peter, something caught his attention, something nearby. The shapes of two strange figures closed in toward Peter, both of which were men of similar build, but it was all wrong. One one of them staggered in from the direction of the great firestorm of Viridian Forest, while the other lurched from the direction of the storm-ravaged sea.

    The man from the forest appeared to be on fire, wreathed in flame and burning alive. For an instant Peter was afraid for him, that he might have been caught in the fire, yet somehow the flames didn't bother him. On the contrary: he simply staggered his way toward Peter while he burned, with his breath coming in dry raspy wheezes. As the burning man came closer, and the shock of the sight began to sink in, Peter saw that he was accompanied by a Pokémon: a red furred creature with large ears, standing about as tall as Jolteon, slowly padding alongside the burning man: a Flareon–

    A sickly wet cough caught Peter's attention, from the direction of the sea.

    The other man walked slowly toward Peter, dragging his feet as he moved, with his head was downcast and his stance was hunched over. This one was completely drenched in water from head to toe, leaving a trail of moisture clearly visible on the ground behind him as he walked. He let out another wet cough, and in doing so sputtered up a small splash of water, as if he were drowning. He too was accompanied by a Pokémon of his own: a Vaporeon that slunk alongside the 'drowning man' as he moved toward Peter.

    “What do you want?” Peter asked them, stepping back.

    Both the burning man and drowning man looked up at him, and Peter suddenly realized that they both had his own face: they were him. The burning man's face, with Peter's half-charred features, snarled back at him, fuming in an infinite, livid rage. The drowning man tilted his soaked, dripping wet head up, showing Peter his own face, slick with water and pale as death. He looked back through reddened bloodshot eyes, displaying a blank look of hopeless, utter despair.

    At this, Jolteon stepped in the way of the burning and drowning man, taking a ready stance. The bright yellow Pokémon growled a stern warning to the others, accompanied by the crackling of electricity as Jolteon built up a charge–

    Seemingly from nowhere, Flareon charged into the scene wreathed in a bright corona of fire. It's own roar mingling with the roar of fire, the burning man's Flareon crashed into Jolteon with a speed a ferocity Peter never thought was possible. It knocked the yellow Pokémon aside with a pained yelp, and Jolteon tumbled to ground several feet away.

    “Jolteon!” Peter yelled out, and he began to rush toward him, until–

    “Augh!” a dagger of pain shot through Peter's leg, and he tripped, falling face-first to the ground. He couldn't feel the leg anymore, and when Peter looked at it, he found it was encased in a mass of blocky ice from his ankle down.

    The drowning man's Vaporeon passed Peter, giving him a disdained, scornful look, and went after the helpless Jolteon. Had the Vaporeon used an ice attack on him? Behind him, Peter heard the burning man cackle in low, sinister voice, while the drowning man gasped and gargled in a sick imitation of a laugh.

    With an outrage welling up inside him, Peter took the multitool out from the holster on his belt, and used its hard casing to smash the block of ice around his foot, shattering it like glass and freeing himself. He quickly scrambled to his feet, and flipped out the multitool's knife blade, and assumed as good a fighting stance as he could. His once-frozen foot still felt very numb, but even without that problem, Peter had never practiced much fighting, and knew he was only an amateur at best. That would have to be enough.

    Nevertheless, Peter Sine stood his ground against the burning man and drowning man, these sick perverted reflections of himself, calling out, “get back!”

    Neither of them were impressed, and both opposing figures reached for their belts and took out identical multitools of their own, clicking open the knife blade in smooth motions. With blade in-hand, the burning man screamed out in a guttural cry, almost bestial in his ferocity. The drowning man made barely a sound, but looked into Peter with his blank, unsettling stare through reddened eyes.

    At once, both of these doppelgängers lunged at Peter, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

    “No!” Peter shouted as he clutched his chest, feeling his heart race, and his breath shudder.

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

    Alternating Current State of Affairs

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

    He wasn't in the open field in the middle of a storm. Instead, Peter was sitting halfway up in a bed, in a sparsely furnished dormitory room: the kind that were rented out by Pokémon Centers for traveling trainers.

    At once he realized he was alive, and awake, and in the Vermilion City Pokémon Center where he'd spent the night. It had all been a dream, as he'd begun to suspect– no, not a dream, but a nightmare. Still, rationalizing it didn't bring any comfort to Peter, didn't make it any less unsettling. For a moment he posited how many people would apply symbolism or seek meaning in their dreams, and what the burning man and drowning man meant to himself–

    Then Peter shook himself more awake. There'd be time to figure that out some other time if it was important. For now, he needed to know the time, and checked the clock function on his phone that he'd set down on the bedside table. The time was 6:57 am, just few minutes before his alarm was set to go off in the first place. With a sigh, Peter reached up and clicked the lamp on, washing the dorm room in uncomfortably bright light that forced him to squint, at least until he got used to it.

    Jolteon was on the bed next to Peter, and had just awoken by the looks of it. She let out a long yawn as she stood up, and stretched out her legs before hopping down to the floor, eagerly looking back at Peter, waiting for him. The Pokémon looked eerily similar to what he'd just dreamed earlier; that beckoning look from atop the storm-swept hill; it was here again, but in a thankfully more mundane capacity...

    “Come on Peter, snap out of it,” he grumbled as he shook his head and hoisted himself out of bed, then went about his preparations for the day ahead. He had no idea what exactly to expect from Surge's regimen, only that it'd be, as he put it, 'brutal'. Whatever it was that the gym leader had planned, Peter intended to be ready for it.

    The next minutes went by about as routinely as Peter expected: he quickly washed up in the facilities provided, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and got in a quick shave and trim for the beard he'd neglected over the past couple days. Peter tended to shave most of his face, especially on the neck where it'd start to itch badly after a few days, but he almost always kept some beard on his chin and part of the lower jaw, as he did today.

    With his preparations complete, Peter proceeded to down the stairs to to the Pokémon Center's lobby. It was practically empty of people this early in the morning, with only the nurse behind the main counter, and one other, sitting at one of the nearby tables. Peter immediately recognized her as the young trainer that had challenged Lieutenant Surge yesterday. She had a plate of some breakfast in front of her with a glass of fruit juice. Next to the table was her Quagsire, with its face happily buried in a dish of food in front of it–

    “Good morning!” the perky nurse greeted with a beaming smile, nearly catching Peter off guard. “We have a complimentary breakfast spread prepared for our overnight guests.”

    The nurse gestured to a nearby table, which was brimming with a wide assortment of pastries, fruits, cereals and other simple breakfast fare. There were also a few pitchers of fruit juices, a couple pots of coffee and an electric kettle for tea.

    “I'll be sure to have some,” Peter replied after he glanced over the food. Then Jolteon, sitting down next to Peter, let out a small whine, and looked up at the young man with an imploring expression he'd come to associate with wanting food. Food meant for people probably wasn't what was best for Jolteon, but the Pokémon needed something.

    “While we're on the subject of breakfast, is there some kind of food available that'd be good for my Jolteon?” Peter asked, motioning down to the Pokémon.

    Following his motion, the nurse peered over the edge of the counter, and spotted the needy Jolteon, to which she exclaimed, “of course!” and reached down to retrieve an item from below the counter.

    “For Jolteon, I'd recommend this blend of Pokémon food rich in copper and electrolytes,” the nurse continued as she handed Peter a small package of the food. “Lieutenant Surge himself provides this for his own electric type Pokémon at the gym. You'll find more of it at any Poké Mart or well-stocked department store.”

    “Thanks a lot,” Peter said, and headed for the breakfast spread with Pokémon food in hand. It looked similar to most packages of Pokémon food Peter had seen, but with pale green and orange highlights around the edges. There was a small panel on the back where the food's producer explained the nutritional benefits of a copper-rich diet for electric-type Pokémon. Mostly it was that the tissues and organs for electrical manipulation use large amounts of copper, which made sense to Peter. Everyday electrical wires, cables and other components use copper because of its high electrical conductivity, so too should the case be with electric-type Pokémon.

    In a few minutes, Peter was sitting at one of the empty tables in the lobby with his own breakfast: a couple slices of toast, a few pieces of fruit and a cup of coffee. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him. Peter had also taken an extra bowl for the Pokémon food, which he filled and set down next to him for Jolteon. When he did though, he noticed something amiss: Jolteon wasn't there.

    The young man sat up straight in a flash of panic, quickly looking around the lobby, saying, “Jolteon?”

    “Well aren't you just the cutest thing!” a delighted girl's voice crooned behind Peter, followed by a happy giggle.

    Hearing this, Peter turned the source of the voice, and his immediate suspicions were confirmed. There was Jolteon, sitting at the girl's feet as she scratched behind her ears, lavishing the attention she was giving her

    “Careful!” Peter said in an urgent tone as he almost jumped out of his seat and scrambled to the other table. He wasn't sure if he meant to say that to Jolteon, or the young trainer. He just didn't want anyone to get hurt.

    Hearing and seeing him, the girl looked up, asking with some concern, “oh, is this your Jolteon?”

    “Yeah, sorry about that,” Peter answered, then suddenly realized he still had the bowl of Pokémon food in his hand, and that Jolteon was looking up at him with a wide-eyed look of great expectation. “She's still very young, and I'm still getting used to all the extra energy she has–”

    At that moment, Jolteon pawed at Peter's leg as he let out another needy whine. At this the young man finally set the food down in front of the Pokémon, which Jolteon sniffed for a moment before she began stuffing her face.

    “It's okay,” the girl responded with a polite smile. “She seems like a very sweet Pokémon.”

    She removed a small electronic item from her pocket, which Peter recognized as a Pokédex, similar to the ones Professor Rose had given the junior trainers a few days earlier. After the girl pointed it at Jolteon, a voice sprang from its little speakers, saying in a rigid mechanical tone, “Jolteon: the Lightning Pokémon. When angered or frightened, the hairs on Jolteon's body become charged with electricity, which it uses in electric attacks.”

    “Interesting,” the girl commented, looking over the data displayed in her Pokédex.

    “I uh... saw your battle with Surge yesterday,” Peter said. It felt like such an awkward change of subject.

    “Oh, that,” the girl muttered as she clicked the Pokédex closed in her hand. “It was an utter disaster, ugh!”

    “Actually, it looked pretty close from what I saw,” Peter said in a reassuring tone as he sat across from the other trainer. “You really had him on the ropes for a while there.”

    “If only that Raichu hadn't...” her sentence trailed off when she looked down at her beady-eyed Quagsire, which didn't seem to have a care in the world. With a frustrated sigh, she looked back up at Peter, asking, “did you challenge Surge, too?”

    “No, actually,” Peter confessed with a small shrug. “I'm not much of a battler.”

    “Then what the heck were you doing at the gym?” she asked in a slightly confused tone, with one of her eyebrows skewed in a look of puzzlement.

    “I was headed there to get some help for Jolteon,” Peter explained as he reached down and scratched the yellow Pokémon's neck. “I mentioned that she's very young, but she also has trouble controlling her electrical power. Surge agreed to train me as I train Jolteon, and I start today.”

    “Well if anyone can help your Jolteon with that, it'd be Surge,” the girl responded quickly. “Man, he's a lot stronger a trainer than I was expecting, but we'll get him good next time, won't we Quagsire?” the girl said to her pale blue Pokémon, which just blinked its beady eyes back at her with a blank look.

    Peter wasn't sure if that was a positive response or not from the Quagsire, but the girl seemed to think so, as she gently massaged the top of its head. Still, as long as Peter and she were here, there was something he wanted to ask...

    “Surge mentioned that you were from Johto,” Peter began, “that you're here in Kanto because one of your gym leaders recently went missing. Can I ask what that's all about?”

    “Beats me,” she replied with a quick shrug, then elaborated, “I mean Jasmine, the leader of the gym in Olivine City, just up and disappeared, without a trace.”

    “So nobody knows a thing?” Peter said in a concerned, questioning tone. “How long has she been gone?”

    “Jasmine has been known to leave the gym on other business, sometimes for a long while,” the girl explained. “She's even gone as far as Sinnoh before, but she'd always at least let someone know where she was going, and arrange for someone to fill in for her if she needed to. This time is different: Jasmine just wasn't there, and no one knows where she's gone. It's starting to get really worrying, actually.”

    “That doesn't sound good,” Peter replied with a tone of sympathy. “I hope it all works out alright.”

    “Yeah, me too,” the girl said in a not-quite hushed tone, then switched her demeanor to one of determination. “At this rate though, Jasmine is gonna be back at the Olivine Gym before I ever get a Kanto badge. If I'm gonna beat Surge and get my last badge for the Indigo league, I'll need to train my team extra hard to be ready for him.”

    That's when Peter noticed the clock on the wall ahead of him, and realized he was running dangerously short on time if he was gong to make it to the Vermilion gym. He stood up from the seat in a rush, saying, “It was nice meeting you...” but Peter cut himself short, realizing he didn't even know the name of this trainer he'd been talking with all this time, and only managed to say, “um... I don't know your–”

    “It's Alison,” the girl supplied as she suppressed a chuckle, apparently amused at Peter's missteps.

    “And I'm Peter Sine,” Peter quickly responded, and offered his hand to shake, “though it sounds more like 'Siné' if you're using the old Kalos pronunciation.”

    “That so?” Alison said as she politely shook his hand, her interest piqued. “Are you from Kalos?”

    “Sort of, but not really. It's complicated...” Peter said, stumbling over his words as he tried to sort out a way he could explain it quickly, until he finally just sputtered out, “My family has a lot of history in Kalos, and I was born there, but I grew up mostly here in Kanto.”

    “I see...” the girl replied.

    “Sorry for the rush, but I really need to go, or I'll be late for Surge's training,” Peter said in a rushed, practically gibbering pace as he gathered himself up and prepared to leave. “I'll see you next time you're at the Vermilion Gym though, right?” he added, while he snagged a piece of toast from his neglected breakfast on his way toward the Pokémon Center's exit.

    “Of course!” Alison called out in a slightly raised tone as Peter neared the door, and Jolteon followed suit. “Don't worry about it!”

    What? Worry? About what? Peter wasn't worried. He was just rushed, and pressed for time, and was doing his best to be polite. Maybe that's what Alison meant. Still, it didn't quite feel like that was it, like there was something else he was missing. It wasn't time time to fret about that anyway, he needed to get to the Vermilion gym, and fast.

    He'd stepped out into the cool morning air of Vermilion City, but didn't take much heed of it, and just started running. The only thing on the forefront of Peter's mind was getting to the gym, which he only had a few minutes to go by his estimations. Peter was reasonably fit and in shape by his guess, and even at the fast pace he traveled he only felt a little winded, though Jolteon trotted alongside him quite happily. The little Pokémon could have completely overtaken Peter at any point by how easily she seemed to move.

    In a few moments, following the route he'd taken yesterday, Peter found himself outside the Vermilion gym. Lieutenant Surge was already standing in front of the entrance in a firm stance, arms folded over his chest, watching Peter stumble to a stop with Jolteon. Surge's Raichu clung to his shoulder and upper back, watching with a similar scrutiny.

    “You're early,” Surge commented. “That's a good start.”

    “I'm here,” Petter sputtered out between gasps for breath. Apparently he'd run faster and harder than he'd expected, or he wasn't as in-shape as he'd thought. “I'm ready for anything.”

    “We'll see about that,” Surge said as he stepped into the entrance of the Vermilion gym, motioning for Peter to follow. “Training under me has a small number of conditions that you will need to adhere to– good morning Gregory,” he greeted, curtly nodding to the reception desk in the lobby.

    “Good morning sir,” Gregory replied with a tip of his hat as Surge passed, adding, “and you as well, Peter. Good luck with your training.”

    “Thanks,” Peter said as he gave the kindly man a quick nod, and followed Surge further into the gym, saying, “conditions, okay. What are they?”

    “The first and foremost of these conditions:” the gym leader began, holding up one finger as he looked back over his shoulder, still at his lively walking pace, “over the course of training, you and Jolteon will do exactly as I instruct, exactly as I instruct it, no exceptions. Deviating from my instructions could prove dangerous, destructive, even fatal.”

    “I understand,” Peter agreed. “We'll do exactly as say, no exceptions.”

    “Good. Second condition:” Surge continued, holding up two fingers this time, “once you begin training, backing out is not an option.”

    “Not an option?” Peter asked, a little unclear. “How much of a 'not option' are we talking here?”

    “If you can't train Jolteon after starting, I doubt there will be anyone anywhere who can train her the way she needs, and that will leave Jolteon only with unsatisfactory, unsavory, unpleasant options that I refuse to entertain.” At this, Surge stopped, turned on heel to face Peter, and lowered the dark glasses that covered his eyes, showing the young man a sharp, steely-eyed glare that could chisel stone. “Therefore, backing out of training once you start is, I repeat, not an option.”

    “Right, not an option, got it,” Peter said, and he realized he'd taken a step back away from surge.

    “Knowing that, are you still willing to go through with this training?” Surge asked as he replaced the glasses over his eyes, and his Raichu moved to his other shoulder, tail whipping past his face. “This is the last and only chance I'll give you to decide not to.”

    Peter knew the answer, of course, but he hesitated nonetheless. Then he heard a small whine at his side, and felt Jolteon nuzzle his fidgeting hand. Peter reciprocated the Pokémon's need, and stroked behind her ears, saying to Surge, “I came here to train Jolteon, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.”

    “Good, with that out of the way, you're ready to take on your first exercise,” the gym leader said in a firm tone, and he turned to opened a door behind him. As he stepped in, Surge motioned for Peter to follow, saying, “in here.”

    The room Peter and Surge were in now was small, about ten feet across, with only a little bit furnishing it. Of note was a workbench, tool chest and supply cabinet that Peter recognized as part of electrical work. Among the tools he saw immediately laid out were a soldering kit, spools of wire and containers of connectors, a variable power supply, and multimeter.

    Surge went to the workbench, where he prepared something Peter couldn't see, but said over his shoulder, “Professor Rose tells me you are an electrician of sorts, correct?”

    “Yes, of sorts,” Peter answered, looking around the small room, drawn in by his curiosity. “So what kind of exercise will Jolteon be doing here?”

    “Glad you asked!” Surge said with enthusiasm as he turned around, and showed Peter an item in his hand.

    All he had was a light bulb: just an ordinary incandescent lamp, commonly used in all sorts of everyday applications, from desk lamps, to wall sconces, to area lighting. What purpose could this serve in training electric Pokémon?

    “This is it?” Peter asked, confused and a little underwhelmed, as he'd been expecting something more. “That's the brutal training regimen?”

    “No, this is...” the gym leader said as he stepped aside, revealing what he'd been preparing on the workbench behind him. It was a very simple rig: a socket that would fit the light bulb in his hand, and two exposed leads. Surge screwed the bulb in place, stepped back, and gave a small nod to the Raichu on his shoulder.

    Responding to the silent command, Surge's Raichu hopped down onto the bench, touched the two leads with its paws, and the lamp lit up.

    “That's enough,” Surge said after a few seconds, and Raichu backed off. He picked up the small light bulb rig and handed it to Peter. “Here, have Jolteon try it.”

    With a small nod, Peter took the rig and set it down next to Jolteon, telling the Pokémon as he knelt down, “put some electricity though these two points,” he said, pointing to the exposed leads, “and light up the bulb, just like Raichu did.”

    With some trepidation, Jolteon touched the two leads with her paws and built up a charge, raising her bright tufts of fur on end. Then with a sudden flash and snap, the light bulb shattered into several shards, some of which flew into Peter's face.

    “Agh!” he grunted as he stood up, and brushed the shattered flakes of glass off. Luckily there was nothing serious. Jolteon cringed away from the rig, slinking behind Peter's legs and letting out a small nervous whine.

    “Hmm,” Surge grunted in a knowing tone, like he was expecting that to happen.

    From underneath the workbench, the gym leader picked up a large case of several more light bulbs and set them on top, coolly saying, “when Jolteon can light the bulb, without burning it out, or destroying it, come and find me.”

    Then Surge left the room, leaving Peter and Jolteon alone with one task. If that case of bulbs was any indication of what Surge was anticipating, It was going to be a very long day.

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    Edit Notes 01/16/2018:
    Cleaned up grammar/spelling/formatting.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 6: Lightning in a Botle
    • ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Lightning in a Bottle

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

    With a now all too familiar snap and flash, yet another light bulb was shattered over the workshop floor. At this, Jolteon flinched back from the light bulb rig with a yip of discomfort, shaking her head and pawing at her face as she did.

    Peter let our a weary sigh and knelt down in front of Jolteon, helping to pick out the glass shards caught in the Pokémon's fur. The shattered pieces of light bulb never got enough force behind them to hurt Jolteon on their own, but the Pokémon could accidentally cut itself on its own if Peter didn't help.

    “You're still using too much electricity, Joltoen,” Peter explained again for what felt like the hundredth time since they began the exercise. “You only need to use a tiny bit of power to light up the bulb. Do you understand?”

    With the glass picked out of her fur, Jolteon looked up to Peter with tired, worried eyes.

    “I know it's hard, but you have to learn this, or you'll always be out of control like you were when you evolved,” Peter continued while he cleaned up the rig and prepared a fresh light bulb. “You don't want that, do you?”

    In response, Jolteon let out a small reluctant whine, and lowered her head. Peter supposed the Pokémon understood the necessity of the exercise, but was struggling, disheartened by the failures. Peter could hardly blame her, since he too was beginning to have similar feelings, similar doubts if this would get anywhere.

    For hours now, there was no progress made whatsoever. Every time Jolteon tried to put electricity through one of the light bulbs, they'd always shatter from critical overloading. Every time, Peter would try to explain that Jolteon was using too much power and set up another bulb. Every time, the same thing happened again and again. By now they had gone through several cases of light bulbs, enough that Peter had resorted to using one of the empty cases to contain the shattered remains, and he'd need a new case soon if this kept up.

    “Okay, let's try it one more time,” Peter said again, trying not to sound frustrated as he set the rig down in front of Jolteon. Once more, Jolteon placed her paws on the two leads, while Peter spoke encouragingly, or so he hoped, “remember, just a teeny, tiny bit–”

    Before he could finish, the light bulb shattered with a brilliant flash, just as had happened countless times before.

    “Dammit Jolteon!” Peter snapped as he shot to a standing stance, barely resisting the urge to tear out his hair as he grunted, “the light bulb is only rated for twenty five watts of electrical power! If you give it much more, the filament vaporizes. With the mess you're making, you must be shooting off at least a few thousand watts worth of power! What do I have to do to make you understand?!”

    Jolteon tucked her ears down and cringed at Peter's frustrated outburst. Shaking with each step, the Pokémon backed off from the shattered bulb, and turned up to Peter with a dejected look. She looked like she might cry, or whimper.

    “I'm sorry Jolteon,” Peter huffed out in an exasperated sigh, holding his hand up to his forehead, “I just...” Peter's words trailed off as his gaze meandered to the workbench, to all the electrical gear laid out over its surface. A thought occurred to him at that moment, and Peter reached for the multimeter, muttering, “Huh...”

    The multimeter was a small handheld device commonplace in electrical work, with a pair of wires extending away with connecting pins on the end of each wire. The device could be set to test the power of a flowing electrical current, the voltage –the electrical charge difference between two points– or electrical resistance –how easily an electric current could flow between two points. It was this final parameter, measuring electrical resistance, that Peter set the multimeter to test for.

    With the preparations complete, Peter turned his attention to Jolteon. As he approached the Pokémon, Jolteon looked up, ears perked high, curious to what her trainer was doing. Perhaps she was a little anxious as well.

    “This won't hurt, I promise,” Peter said in an encouraging tone as he knelt down next to Jolteon. He propped the Pokémon on his knee with her forepaws exposed, and patted Jolteon on the back to comfort the slightly confused creature.

    Gently, Peter touched the multimeter's pins to Jolteon's paws, knowing for certain that simply testing for electrical resistance wouldn't harm her. In truth, it wouldn't harm anything, or anyone, no matter how sensitive the points between the pins were to electricity, since no electrical current was being sent anyway. Even so, Peter suspected Jolteon wouldn't be harmed by even an exceptionally powerful current. The way Blue Oak's Jolteon Blitz could contain electrical discharges back at the Viridian gym, the way it could redirect and channel currents, gave Peter an idea now how to help Jolteon with the light bulb exercise she was having so much trouble with now.

    “Excellent,” Peter said in a quiet but excited whisper to himself after seeing the multimeter's readings, then set Jolteon down and scratched behind her ears. In response, the bright yellow Pokémon simply looked up, tilting her head in a perplexed, yet intrigued expression.

    As Peter guessed, the results of multimeter's test showed very little electrical resistance, comparable to a high grade copper wire. Jolteon's body, at least through the paws, was an extremely effective electrical conductor. Newly energized by this idea, Peter went to the variable power supply on the workbench, and set its power output to a level that these light bulbs would accept without damage.

    “Remember back in Viridian City, when Blitz helped you?” Peter began explaining to Jolteon as he ran the wires and prepared the gear, his hands darting from tool to tool as needed. “Blitz caught all of your excess electricity, and channeled it through its body without being hurt in the least, so this should work, I think...”

    After all was said and done, Peter had one wire connected from the power supply to one of the leads of the light bulb rig, while the the other wire of the power supply was free in his hand. With this second wire, he knelt down and touched the exposed copper to the second lead to complete the circuit. With the circuit complete, the bulb lit up bright before Peter's careful, watchful eyes.

    Seeing this, Jolteon slowly stepped close next to Peter, cocking her head to the side as she watched the light glow. Then Peter disconnected the wire from the lead, snuffing the light out, and causing Jolteon's ears to twitch up at the sudden darkness.

    “We're going to try something else this time,” Peter explained. “Do what you did before, but don't send any electricity through the leads, just touch your paws to them,” he said as he mimicked the motions with his own hands.

    With a weary whine, Jolteon stepped forward, repeating the same actions she'd done countless times before this morning. She touched one paw to a lead, then the other–

    Before Jolteon could connect to both leads, Peter lifted up her second paw and held it gently in his hand. The Pokémon recoiled slightly at the action, more out of surprise than fear, and looked back to Peter with a confused expression.

    “You're okay, I've got you,” the young man reassured in a calm voice, then touched the power supply wire to Jolteon's paw in his hand.

    The light bulb lit right up before Peter and Jolteon, shining bright at its full intensity, and without breaking or burning out. Jolteon's entire body tensed up, her ears stood straight on end and her eyes opened wide in amazement as she let out a surprised, yet excited squeal.

    “Do you feel the power flowing through you, Jolteon?” Peter asked in a calm, but noticeably pleased tone. “It's what's lighting the bulb, and without breaking it. You need to use exactly this much power, no more, no less.” then he removed the power supply wire, breaking the circuit and shutting out the light again. Jolteon let out a disappointed whine when the flow of electricity ceased, and she pawed at Peter's knee with an expectant look in her eyes, like she was begging for a treat.

    “So you like that? That feels good?” Peter asked, holding up the wire.

    Jolteon's only response was to emit another expectant whine as she looked straight at the power supply wire, crouching restlessly low on all fours, as if she might jump for the wire at any moment.

    “Alright girl, easy, calm down,” Peter responded through a chuckle, and scratched behind Jolteon's ear. “Let's do this one more time: one paw on the lead...” he instructed the Pokémon, pointing at the light bulb rig in front of them.

    Jolteon practically bounced as she hopped to her previous position and stuck one paw on the lead. Once in place, she looked back to Peter and excitedly tapped her other paw on the floor, waiting.

    Once more, Peter connected the powered wire to Jolteon's paw, completing the circuit and lighting the bulb again. The bright yellow Pokémon cooed in pleasure at the feeling of electricity going through her, and she stretched herself out as much as she could without breaking the delightful circuit.

    While Jolteon was thoroughly distracted by the blissful feeling of the electric current, Peter gently placed her free paw on the other lead, and pulled the power wire away, effectively removing the power supply from the circuit...

    The light bulb stayed lit.

    Jolteon was now powering the light bulb under her own power, with no external assistance, and without destroying or burning out the bulb in the process.

    At that moment, Peter released the breath he'd been holding, and nearly shouted in excitement, “Jolteon! You're doing it!”

    The Pokémon snapped to attention at hearing that, with wide eyes and ears standing on end. She looked down at the light bulb rig, and saw for herself that she was indeed powering the light. Astonished, Jolteon stepped off the leads, darkening the light, then she replaced her paws on the leads. The Pokémon concentrated for a moment, letting out a small determined growl as she closed her eyes. Then after a quick moment of flickering, the light bulb shined again.

    “Yes!” Peter yelped in a gratified holler as he stood tall, pumping his fist in the air. “I knew we could figure this out!”

    Jolteon shrieked in absolute delight as she dashed all around Peter in a series of small bouncing circles. Then without warning, the little yellow Pokémon bounded up so high that she landed right on Peter's chest. The sudden jump almost caught the young man completely off-guard, but he managed to catch Jolteon and hold her against his chest. Then happy laugh escaped Peter as the ecstatic Jolteon licked his face.

    The door to the workshop opened, and Lieutenant Surge stepped in, almost as weary now as Peter had been for several hours. He immediately gave a quick sigh, and began speaking in an urgent yet forcibly calm tone, “Now look Peter, I know this training can be ridiculously frustrating, but–”

    Before the gym leader could even finish or Peter react, Jolteon hopped down and demonstrated the light bulb for Surge.

    Upon seeing the light, Surge stopped in his tracks for a few moments and stared intently at it, possibly to make sure the light bulb wouldn't suddenly shatter after a second. When the gym leader came to his senses, he marched proudly in the room, gave Peter a hearty slap on the back and joyfully guffawed, “well I'll be a Mankey's uncle!”

    Peter staggered forward a bit recovering from the unexpected back-slap, then quickly pulled himself together. “It wasn't easy, but we got this exercise down.”

    “Good, good,” Surge said with approval, putting his hands on his hips in a firm stance as he continued, “but you know this is just the start, right? You two got a whole lot more work ahead of you before your done for today. Lets get started!”

    The next several rounds of practice consisted mainly of variations of the first light bulb exercise. Instead of one ordinary incandescent bulb though, Surge brought out a wide array of lights. There were car headlights, small flashlight bulbs, fluorescent tube lights, bright halogen lamps, a heat lamp at one point, and even some tiny individual LEDs, and all manner of other different lights up to a thousand-watt stage spotlight. Each light had different properties and challenges for Jolteon to work around: different impedance characteristics, different margins of error, different thresholds to pass before success.

    All of it, as Surge explained, was meant entirely for the young Pokémon to become better acquainted with her electrical capacity, how to feel out the potential and impedance of a circuit, how to adjust her output levels to make the most of it at any circumstance. It reminded Peter of how musicians tune and warm-up an instrument before performance, or rehearsal, or practice.

    After a few more hours of constant training without a break, Jolteon became very tired. She struggled even to make a tiny flashlight bulbs so much as flicker before finally slumping down at Peter's feet with a worn-out groan. It was at this point that Surge demonstrated something most intriguing...

    “Look at her,” Peter insisted as he knelt down next to the exhausted Pokémon. “Jolteon can't go on anymore, she's used up so much energy, she's completely spent. I have to take her to the Pokémon Center.”

    “Yeah, that'd be the thing to do,” Surge agreed halfheartedly with a casual shrug. Then he peered over his dark glasses and smirked, revealing a bright gleam in his eye. “However, there is a little trick I'm gonna show you now, if by some chance you can't get to a Pokémon Center.”

    With cool purpose, Surge took hold of the power supply's wires, attached a set of two conductive clips to the ends of each wire, and then connected Jolteon's fur directly to the power supply. Almost immediately when the circuit was completed, Jolteon became more content, more relaxed, letting out a satisfied whine. It was as if she were being given a full massage treatment, easing away all her tiredness and bringing complete comfort.

    “We'll give her a few minutes to recharge, then we'll finish up today with one last challenge,” Surge said with a satisfied nod.

    “I did something similar to Jolteon before,” Peter stated, remembering how much the Pokémon enjoyed the flow of electricity through her. “It's how we figured out the very first light bulb.”

    “Oh yeah?” the gym leader said, raising an intrigued eyebrow over the top of his dark glasses.

    Peter explained the process he did for the first bulb, mentioning how Jolteon reacted to power flowing through her.

    As Surge listened, he gave Peter a series of knowing nods and quiet approvals. When the young man finished, the gym leader responded with further explanation, “when you hook Jolteon up to some power from an outside source, it recharges Jolteon's electricity reserves, but without Jolteon having to expend any energy generating electricity herself. The extra power also 'jump-starts' Jolteon's immune response and natural healing and recovery processes, allowing for a speedy rebound from all but the most serious injuries or diseases. It's a major way that wild Jolteon in packs operate: if one was sick or injured, the healthy pack members would all give a little extra power to the one in need. In this way, the pack sticks together like a tight-knit squad: no one gets left behind, and everyone has each other's backs.”

    “That's really something else, isn't it?” Peter said as he watched Jolteon become more and more energized with each passing moment, fascinated by the process.

    “The trait's been termed 'Volt Absorb' by the professors and the like, ” Surge further explained. “It works to a lesser extent across most electric-types, sometimes with different results, but Jolteon tend to be especially responsive. It's handy to use in a pinch, but it's best to have Jolteon work on being able to generate as much power as she can herself. We wouldn't want her secondary nervous system to atrophy after all.”

    “Secondary nervous system?” Peter asked.

    “You mean don't know?”

    “Know what?”

    “Ha! That's alright, most trainers don't know either, not unless they're a specialist,” the gym leader said with a chortle, giving Peter a knowing wink over the top of his glasses before continuing. “The electric organs of many electric-type Pokémon first evolved from a hyper-development of their nervous system. Eventually, these specialized nerve tissues could generate very large quantities of power, and discharge at dangerous levels. This same secondary nervous system also makes possible a kind of 'supercharging' of the Pokémon's muscles, so they can expand and contract far quicker than normally possible. This is why many electric-type Pokémon are much faster and more agile than others; why Jolteon can move so quickly compared to other Eeveelutions–”

    A long, high-pitched yawn interrupted Surge's little lecture as Jolteon stepped up and stretched herself out, appearing exceptionally relieved and relaxed. Once on her feet, the little yellow Pokémon began pawing at the clamps attached to her, then letting out an annoyed whine as she tried to bite one of them off.

    Seeing this, Peter knelt down next to Jolteon and removed the clamps himself, asking “you doing okay? Was the extra electricity good?”

    The young Pokémon's response was simply to rub herself against Peter's leg, completely content. That was answer enough for Peter, who scratched Jolteon behind her ears.

    “Aright, I think you're ready for my last challenge of the day,” Surge announced, stepping toward the door of the workshop.

    “What kind of challenge is it?”

    “Glad you asked,” the gym leader said with a hearty chuckle, then banged on the workshop door a few times before shouting, “bring it in, fellas!”

    When the door opened, Vincent carefully stepped backward through it, holding onto something huge that Peter couldn't quite see.

    “A little more to the left...” Horton's voice called out from the other side of the door as Vincent and his cargo bumped into the frame. “No, your left!”

    “What in the name of– I don't even–” Peter sputtered, practically at a loss for words when he finally saw what Vincent and Horton were carefully wheeling into the workshop.

    It was an absolutely immense spotlight, bolted onto a bulky wheeled tripod, so large that it barely fit through the door frame. It must have been at least a meter across the lens, and about a meter deep from front to back, with a thick power cable trailing behind it.

    “This...” Surge announced proudly, and slapped the side of the colossal spotlight, “is the most powerful lighting instrument we have in the gym. It uses a five kilowatt Hydrargyrum medium-arc iodide lamp–”

    “A what?” Peter blurted out, utterly befuddled by the term he heard.

    “I thought you were an electrician,” the gym leader said, eyebrow raised over one lens of his sunglasses.

    “I'm a radio guy, not a light bulb guy,” Peter retorted with a shrug.

    “It's a lamp, not a light bulb; get it right, please,” Surge insisted, then began his explanation, “What it basically means is that it's finicky, high-powered, and has multiple steps to turn on properly. The gas inside the lamp is normally inert, and needs to be ionized, stripped of its electrons, before full ignition of the instrument. Once ionized, Electricity flows through the excited gas between two electrodes, creating an extremely bright plasma.”

    “So, its like a fluorescent light then,” Peter conjectured, having worked with florescent tubes earlier for Jolteon's practice.

    “Similar, but quite not the same,” they gym leader said as he opened the spotlight's instrument housing to show the lamp itself. It looked not to unlike the other stage lighting incandescent lamp Jolteon had practiced on earlier, but with two electrodes and open space inside instead of a coiled filament, “Florescent tubes operate on a specific reaction, where electrons stumble into ionized gas atoms and drop a photon in the collision. The medium-arc iodide lamp relies on ionized gas inside the lamp to emit the light. They have kind of similar ignition procedures, but that's where the similarities end. Instead of clumsily bumbling into gas atoms, the electrons inside the medium-arc iodide lamp form a constant, unbroken plasma arc between the two electrodes, lust like a lightning bolt.”

    “So what you're saying is,” Peter replied, holding back a chuckle of his own, “this is like 'lightning in a bottle'.”

    “Ha! If you weren't so clumsy with your delivery, you could go into comedy,” Surge chortled in his jovial way. Then he turned his attention back inside the large spotlight, and pointed out where a piece of hardware appeared to be missing inside the housing, which now just had a couple of wires, “This thing is normally constructed with a specialized electrical ballast to assist ignition and limit current flowing through the instrument, since the lamp would destroy itself after a few seconds with just a constant current. For Jolteon's training through, I've had this ballast removed. That means she'll have to ionize the gas, ignite the lamp, then maintain a steady arc without any extra help from additional hardware. It's all on her.”

    At that, the gym leader closed the lamp housing and hooked up the spotlight's power cable to the practice leads Jolteon had been using all day long. Once done, he turned to Peter and Jolteon, saying, “alright, show me what you got!”

    With a little bounce, Jolteon went right to the rig once again, placing her paws on the exposed leads, ready to give it her all.

    “Easy girl,” Peter cautioned in a steady tone. “Start it off like the fluorescent light: send a stream of low power to ionize the gas inside the lamp.”

    The little yellow Pokémon concentrated for a moment, and Peter saw her fur ripple as she channeled the electricity. After a few seconds, Jolteon's fur settled, and she looked up to Peter with a confident look of expectation, waiting for her next instruction.

    “Good an ionized?” the young man asked.

    Jolteon pawed at the leads again for an instant, and gave Peter a small affirmative yip.

    “Oh! I almost forgot; you may want these...” Surge said suddenly, and handed Peter a spare pair of sunglasses.

    “Thanks,” Peter replied as he took the sunglasses and put them on, instantly darkening his vision. Then he turned his attention back to Jolteon, instructing, “okay, give it quick a thousand-watt pulse.”

    With a nod, the young Pokémon charged itself up, filling the workshop with the distinct smell of electricity in the air. Then with a quick snap, a small flash appeared on the other side of the spotlight lens. The circuit was complete, carrying the electric current through the ionized gas in the lamp. Now it was ready to take a little more.

    “Step up the power,” Peter ordered to Jolteon. “Two thousand watts this time.”

    Again, the spotlight flashed and faded, but a little brighter this time.

    “Let's do it for real now,” the young man said, growing more excited as he gave the final command, “five thousand watts, go!”

    With a confident howl, Jolteon quickly built up the full charge, and sent all her power through the spotlight. In an instant, the whole workshop was flooded with light brighter than the sun on a summer day. Even through the sunglasses, Peter had to squint to see the silhouette of Jolteon in front of him.

    “Now, slowly ease back on the power flow!” Peter ordered, “Don't let the decreasing resistance of the plasma catch you off-guard!”

    Jolteon let out an acknowledging yip, then a growl of concentration as the Pokémon did as instructed, easing back on the power flow. Sure enough, the light held steady, shining exactly as brightly as it had when first ignited at full intensity.

    It was working. Surge's bizarre training methods were beginning to pay off already. Jolteon had enough control to follow detailed instructions, and was familiar enough with her own power to make minor yet critical changes. For the first time since Jolteon evolved, Peter didn't feel worried she might destroy something or hurt someone at the slightest twitch–

    The spotlight flickered brighter for a moment, and again, even brighter the second time. Then with a mighty crack, the spotlight went out, accompanied soon after by a clinking and tinkling of shattered lamp shards scattering inside the instrument. Shocked by this, Jolteon jumped back from the leads, ears tucked back behind her head.

    “Dammit!” Peter spat as he ripped the sunglasses from face. “We were so close!”

    “Wow,” the gym leader uttered in a quiet tone, and slowly took off his sunglasses, revealing his eyes locked in an expression of genuine amazement. “Just, wow.”

    “Wait, that's a good result?” Peter asked suddenly, perplexed by Surge's response.

    “Honestly, I didn't even think you'd get the lamp to light up at all,” the gym leader confessed, scratching the back of his head. “I was gonna make this your next goal, and have you work on it tomorrow step-by-step.”

    “What does that mean for us?” the young man asked as he reached down, and stroked Jolteon across her back, since she still seemed a little worried.

    “For now, that means you're done for the day,” Surge answered with a firm tone of finality. “You and Jolteon should go and get some well deserved rest. Come back at eight am tomorrow again. I'll have something for you then.”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    After Lieutenant Surge dismissed Peter and Jolteon, the young man immediately went to the nearby Poké Mart. He picked up a few necessary items there, carrying them out in a plastic bag, and took them to the park just outside of the Poké Mart, where there were a few benches and picnic tables. For himself, Peter bought a can of lemonade and a small bento-style boxed meal common to Kanto, since he hadn't eaten for several hours and needed to consume something after such a long day. He'd also purchased several packages of the copper-and-electrolyte-rich food the nurse had recommended for Jolteon that morning, plus a small dish to serve it in.

    During that quick shopping stop, Peter was highly relieved that Jolteon had a firmer grasp on her power, with not one single shocking incident during the whole outing. She still had a tendency to run excitedly ahead though, rushing up to greet new people when Peter wasn't looking. He felt a little embarrassed every time it happened, but Jolteon put on such an air of friendly cuteness that everyone she ran up to didn't seem to mind. They loved it, in-fact, and Jolteon for her part simply relished in all the attention and affection she could glean from others.

    The park Peter and Jolteon went to was supposed to be a major construction project some years ago, but never got started. Eventually, the disused land was bought up by the Pokémon Fan Club, the Kanto Chapter of which was headquartered right in Vermilion City just down the street, and the land was refurbished as a cozy park, which served as a comfortable retreat from the busy city and bustling harbor. Indeed, including Peter and Jolteon, there were several other people and their Pokémon scattered about the park, all enjoying the day and each other's company.

    Once Peter found an empty bench and sat down there, he set aside his recently purchased goods, and served up a dish of the specialized Pokémon food for Jolteon, who'd been eyeing the package in ravenous anticipation from the instant Peter tore it open. Almost the moment Peter set the dish down, the young Pokémon immediately began stuffing her face in the most voracious display of appetite he'd ever seen. Then Peter started on his own food, opening up the boxed meal, breaking apart the disposable chopsticks provided, and took a few bites before taking a few moments to himself. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and out, and simply listened...

    Peter Sine had an excellent ear for detail, which helped with his music composition, as well as listening for and identifying radio interference patterns. Sometimes though, when he just waned to relax and unwind for a moment as a kind of meditation for himself, Peter would stop everything he was doing, and listen closely to all the sounds around him that he could hear...

    First and most obvious where the immediate sounds: mainly it was Jolteon happily munching her food at Peter's feet, and the occasional gust of wind blowing through. Then there were the sounds of the park: distant scattered conversations between people, the playful laughs they made when with their Pokémon, and the varying utterances of the Pokémon themselves. Next were more distant sounds: the engines and heavy industrial machines of the docks, rumbling, groaning and clanking in a thunderous, clattering chorus, muffled greatly by distance, but still very present. Beyond that was the swelling and crash of the ocean in the background: that steady, constant undulation of water, producing both a deep bass as the waves traveled, and a high white-noise-like rush when the waves crashed against the shoreline and against the pier. Even further beyond, behind all other sounds Peter could here, was the muddled din of the city itself.

    This din was of course made up of thousands upon thousands of individual sounds which not even Peter could identify, not at this distance. As sound waves propagated through the air, they steadily diffused, and mingled into the other sounds around it. This process continued until, at a great enough distance, everything sounded exactly the same: just a quiet, muddled din. A crash, a clink, a shout for joy, weeping in sorrow, a yell in anger, a sigh of apathy, a croon of love: it was all the same–

    All of a sudden, Peter was jarred out of his 'aural meditation' when he felt a nudge against his knee.

    As he'd expected, it was Jolteon who'd nudged the young man, but there was more to it. Somehow, the little yellow Pokémon had gotten herself a small rubber ball, which she set on the bench and pushed toward Peter's hand. Then Jolteon stared up at him with those big hopeful eyes she had, and let out series of short, pleading whines.

    “Jolteon, where did you get this?” Peter asked in a suspicious tone as he held up the ball he'd been provided, possibly by ill-gotten means.

    In response to the allegation, Jolteon simply struck a coy little pose and uttered a satisfied yip, with what Peter suspected was a touch of sass.

    Squinting a bit, Peter set aside his partly eaten bento and stood up, looking for an upset person in the park that might be missing a ball they were using. Knowing how much Jolteon loved attention, Peter suspected she might have just gone up to someone and begged. He may not have found anyone missing a ball, but after a few moments the young man did catch some movement in the corner of eye...

    “Ah– don't even think about it,” Peter said in a lightly threatening tone, and turned toward a surprised-looking Jolteon, who's nose was mere inches from his bento sitting on the bench. “That's my dinner. You already had yours.”

    After freezing in place a few seconds, having been caught in the act, Jolteon bounded in front of Peter and crouched low in the 'play' stance. She was nearly bouncing in place, yet the Pokémon's gaze became fixated on the ball, following every slight movement Peter made with it. When he still didn't throw it, Jolteon began to utter a series of playful growls and insistent yips.

    “Okay, okay!” Peter relented, jokingly adding, “as long as it keeps you out of my food.”

    With a great heave, Peter Sine hurled the rubber ball as far as he could, aiming for the far end of the park. The ball was barely out of his hand, and Jolteon had already dashed after it at blindingly quick speed.


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    Peter found he was on the Vermilion Gym battle floor, on that square of packed earth inside the immense metal box. He was wearing a clean pair of slacks, a set of comfortable shoes, a casual button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with a tasteful vest over it. It was all colored black aside from the vest, which was a subtle gray instead. It was exactly what Peter would wear given the choice if he wanted to dress presentably, but not too formally.

    Jolteon was there too, standing at Peter's side. She'd assumed an active stance, and was growling angrily at something behind Peter. When he turned, the young man quickly realized that what he was seeing wasn't real. So, this was another dream.

    There were two figures again, one with a Vaporeon and another with Flareon. They were the same two copies of Peter Sine who behaved much differently than Peter himself: the 'Burning Man' and 'Drowning Man' from the other dream. This time however, they seemed more reserved, more composed, more complete.

    Both were wearing the same outfit Peter himself was, but presented themselves very differently, almost polar opposites of each other.

    Rather than soaked, the drowning man was merely damp, as if he had just toweled off from a cleansing shower. He may have worn the same same outfit as Peter, but he wore it with a crisp elegance Peter himself never felt he could reach. The drowning man's version of Peter's shirt appeared freshly ironed, buttoned all the way up with an elegant silk tie fastened around the collar, and sleeves let down to their full length, held at his wrists with a pair of shining silver cuff-links. The slacks were clean pressed, and the vest fully buttoned and spotless. Instead of the modest chin-beard Peter favored, the drowning man was clean-shaven, and his hair was groomed in an immaculate slick-back look. He stood with a proud, haughty demeanor a short distance from Peter, staring down his nose at Jolteon with an air of absolute disapproval, while his Vaporeon sat obediently at his feet, gently swishing its flipper tail.

    “What are you doing here?” the drowning man asked in the most condescending tone Peter could have imagined, made especially disturbing as it was asked in his own voice.

    “What do you mean?”

    “Answer the question you stubborn dolt!” a third voice, also Peter's, bellowed from across the gym floor. “Don't you dare ignore us when we're speaking to you!”

    It was the 'burning man' doppleganger from the same dream. As soon as he finished, he stormed across the battle floor toward Peter and the drowning man in a blaze of outrage, with his Flareon close at his heels.

    Like the drowning man, he wore the same outfit as Peter, but markedly differently. In this case, it was as if he'd worked a double shift on a radio tower without a break, in sweltering summer heat, and maybe encountered a few problems along the way. The shirt wasn't tucked in and just hung loose, and the sleeves had been torn off at the elbow, or burnt away. The vest wasn't buttoned at all, and the slacks were worn at the knees and frayed at the ends. The burning man's beard had grown out a bit compared to Peter, with about an extra two days of stubble to go with it. His hair was completely unkempt and wild, like a frighteningly bad case of 'bed head' in all directions.

    The burning man arrived at the drowning man's side, spitting at Peter's feet as he passed, and glared at him through a pair of dagger-eyes.

    “I'm here to train Jolteon,” Peter answered his reflections in a firm tone. “That's what I'm doing.”

    “Yes, we know,” the drowning man drawled as he rolled his eyes, then turned them back to Peter. “Why must you train Jolteon?”

    Then the burning man took over, saying, “you never wanted Eevee in the first place, she completely wrecked your place when she evolved, and you could have let Jolteon be someone else's problem and carried on with living,” the burning man listed, counting each one on a finger, before exploding in Peter's face as he demanded, “what the blazes is wrong with you?! Are you some sick glutton for punishment or what?!”

    “Jolteon is my responsibility,” Peter insisted. “I have to see that she's properly cared for.”

    At this point, both Vaporeon and Flareon began to circle Jolteon, threatening her.

    “Your responsibility?! Since when?!” the burning man spat in disgust as he paced furiously in front of Peter, “Since the goofy new Professor and some sappy kid pushed her into your hands?! Your damn livelihood is your responsibility! Being a productive member of society and all that!”

    “Indeed,” the drowning man concurred, keeping arrow-straight posture as he elaborated. “Your work for the radio company has been going well. You have a productive future and prosperous career ahead of you. Your focus and energies should be focused there, gaining stability in your life.”

    “Damn straight!” the burning man cried out in agreement. “You did right getting where you are, but now is not the time to drop the ball and dump all that hard work to the ground. Get a grip, man!”

    “You care for Jolteon's well being, do you not?” the drowning man asked as he made a clean hand gesture toward Peter's Jolteon. “Then tell us: how do you expect to properly care for her if you become unemployed and destitute?”

    “I'm going right back to work as soon as Jolteon is safe and under control, I can have this both ways,” Peter assured them. “You make it sound like it has to be a decision between my job, and training full-time.”

    “Isn't it though?” the drowning man asked as he adjusted his necktie.

    “You know this isn't regular training, this is dead serious pro work,” the burning man reminded Peter, pounding a fist into his open hand. “It's work you have to totally dedicate yourself to in order to make it happen.”

    “Do you truly believe Surge would go to such great lengths,” the drowning man conjectured, “investing so much time and effort to train you and Jolteon, and simply allow you to go back to a life of humdrum work without a fuss?”

    “You can see it, right?” the burning man asked, like the answer was obvious from the beginning. “This Surge guy is really keen on you, he's gonna hype you and Jolteon up to the public, show you off. People are gonna want to see what you and Jolteon can do, and they are gonna want to challenge you, and knock you and down, make that defeat another notch on their belt. Now I know for a fact that you sir are too damn curious and interested in the potential to tell them 'no' like you should.”

    “And why should I tell them 'no' at all?” Peter asked, a sense of outrage growing in himself.

    “You know perfectly well why,” the drowning man answered in his cold, unfeeling way.

    “You aren't ready for this kind of life!” the burning man snapped. “You aren't cut out for training!”

    “Then why the hell does every single person I meet say otherwise?!” Peter snapped back, matching the burning man's intensity.

    Without giving so much as a second to breathe, the drowning man supplied his answer in the sternest, most cold-hearted voice Peter had ever heard his own voice utter, “because none of them know about Charmander, Sandshrew, and Paras.”

    The young man suddenly became very pale, caught off-guard by something he'd hoped was buried deep in the past.

    “That was years ago,” the young man retorted in a shaky voice that he tried desperately to keep steady. “It's different now, I'm different.”

    “Different? Perhaps,” the drowning man supposed with a dismissive shrug, “but 'different' insofar as the challenges you face are greater, with more at stake, and you have significantly more to lose. You have been a failure to Pokémon entrusted to you before, and you will be a failure to Jolteon in a tragically similar way.”

    “So please, do us all favor and don't be a failure at life too,” the burning man sneered.

    “You're wrong,” Peter growled at his doppelgängers, holding back his rage as much as his despair, “and I'll prove it to you.”

    “What I said was not a challenge intended to motivate you, but merely a plain statement of facts as they are,” the drowning man said with a sigh.

    “Yeah,” The burning man agreed with a small nod, not feeling the need to add any more fuel to this fire, “you're screwed.”

    At once, both of Peter's doppelgängers turned and walked away, with Vaporeon and Flareon in tow behind each of them. Peter went to pursue them, making it a few steps before a blinding bright light flashed overhead from every single light in the gym battle floor, accompanied by dozens of sickening cracks. Each and every lighting instrument overhead burst, and suddenly went out, plunging the battle floor into complete darkness.

    “Jolteon!” Peter cried out in a panic, “Jolteon, can you hear me?!”

    He couldn't see, but more frightening to Peter: he realized couldn't hear. He didn't hear the clinking of shattered lamps raining from overhead, he couldn't hear the burning man or drowning man, he couldn't hear Jolteon. He couldn't even hear his own feet on the ground as he carefully, cautiously stepped through the empty, silent darkness.

    Then out of the black, came a small, eerily mournful voice. “Where will you go when the floodwaters rise, and storm waves crash?” the voice was a child's, a boy's. It was a voice so stricken by grief, that it had fallen far beyond the stage of sobbing and tears, and was now completely devoid of life, “What will you do when the wildfire spreads, and turns your world to ash?”

    Then Peter felt something rush past his legs, nearly jumping away at the surprise of it.

    When he looked down, he caught a glimpse of something small, and possibly brown, darting ahead of him. Peter chased after the blurred shape, not sure if he was even heading in the right direction at all, but he went ahead anyway. A long drawn-out moment passed of Peter running, until he grew tired, or unsure, or both...

    Yet, when he looked up, he knew he'd come to the right place. Right as it was, it was also utterly wrong in every way Peter didn't want it to be.

    There was Eevee, the same one Professor Rose had given him that fateful day. Behind the shy brown Pokémon though, Peter saw another image of himself, but as a child, when he was eleven years old.

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    Ooooooooooh dramatic backstory teaser!

    I can still hardly believe I managed to get this chapter written and posted while stationed aboard the ship, mostly because oh how busy I've been these past few weeks. Most of this chapter, or at least the implications behind them, were already planned out well in advance. Some of them though were spur-of-the-moment, like the moment with the ball.

    Thank you to everyone who's read and left a review. Even if I don't always reply personally, I promise I do read them all. Sometimes I even take inspiration from your observations and use them to help construct the next chapter or three.

    Oh, and in case anyone hasn't noticed yet, the retroactive gender switch is in effect for Jolteon; he's a she now, and some of that sassy she-ness is hopefully starting to reveal itself.

    Edit Notes 01/16/2018:
    Cleaned up grammar and formatting. No major content changes
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 7: Shortcut Circuit
    • After a restless night at the Pokémon Center, and a brief, tired morning beforehand, Peter Sine arrived at the Vermilion Gym at eight am for the second day of training. Yet even in his sleep-deprived state, no amount of tiredness was going to stop Peter from following through on a commitment he agreed to make. It was simply a fact of how the young man operated: if he said he would do something, come hell or high water it would get done, or he'd at least exhaust every option he knew to try before he would finally stand down and allow himself to fail. If that meant arriving at the appointed time without a full night's sleep and with less breakfast than he'd like, then he'd arrive tired and hungry, but be there nonetheless.

    Jolteon for her part though seemed more ready than ever. The little yellow Pokémon ran circles around Peter all the way to the gym, sometimes butting her head against his leg if he was going a little slower than usual. At one point, Jolteon even snapped a small spark of electricity into Peter's leg, earning a razor-sharp glare and an annoyed scolding from the young man. She didn't try that again.

    When Peter and Jolteon arrived at the Vermilion gym, Surge was once again standing in a firm stance outside the entrance, waiting to greet them with Raichu on his shoulder. Something Peter noted as he approached was the bicycle helmet the gym leader had tucked under one arm, which had a bold yellow and black lightning bolt pattern on the outer shell. Perhaps Surge rode a bike on his way to the gym.

    “So,” Peter said, doing his best to mask the weariness of his voice as he spoke to the gym leader, “what's the exercise for Jolteon today?”

    “Nothing from me, nothing here anyway,” Surge answered as he shook his head, and handed the bicycle helmet to Peter. There was a key inside, for a bike lock by the look of it.

    Once Peter had the helmet and key in hand, the gym leader pointed to a nearby bike rack outside the gym, where a bicycle with an industrial-yellow frame was locked up tight.

    “And what am I supposed to do with all this?” Peter asked as held up the key and helmet, gesturing at the bicycle Surge had indicated.

    “You and Jolteon will take Route Six north to Saffron City,” Surge answered curtly. “Go to the fighting dojo and ask for Hideki. I had him arrange a training regimen for both you and Jolteon.”

    “Jolteon, and for me, at the dojo?” Peter asked, loaded with skepticism. “And for that matter, can't I just take the magnet train to get to Saffron City?”

    “I said you would be trained alongside Jolteon,” the gym leader said in a firm but flat tone. “I also said one of the conditions for training under me was to do exactly as I instructed, with no deviations.”

    “I'm not saying I won't do it,” Peter said, taking a defensive tone, “but I at least deserve an explanation of your instructions, so I understand the benefits for Jolteon and for myself.”

    Surge went quiet for a few moments, wordlessly eyeing Peter through his dark glasses, judging him? It seemed to Peter that the gym leader had changed significantly since they'd last met. Where yesterday Surge was quite excited over the simple training with a light bulb, now he seemed harsh and dour, as if he were treating Peter like a whole other person from the one he met before...

    “Fine,” Surge finally said after several tense moments. “The trainer training alongside their Pokémon is a vital part of the mutual partnership bond. This bond is highly beneficial for Jolteon's development, especially at her young age, when she needs the emotional support and guidance more than ever. I'm sure you saw it already yesterday, with how much more Jolteon can accomplish when you're there for her.

    “My plan for Jolteon's overall training is a daily alternation between electricity control and physical fitness, with battle practice once a week. Today, as you might have figured, is physical fitness day. Her physical regimen is focused on cardio and building endurance, as well as agility training and situational awareness. This can be taught at the Fighting Dojo far better than I can do here, especially with all the challengers I've been getting lately.”

    “And the bicycle?” Peter asked as he held up bicycle helmet and lock key. “How does this help with training?”

    “It's how you're getting to Saffron City of course!” Surge said with a hearty guffaw, “but it's also for Jolteon's cardio workout too. You may be training alongside her, but there's no way I'd expect you to keep up with a Jolteon's running pace on foot, no matter how quick on your feet you are. With a bicycle, you at least stand a fighting chance to keep up.”

    Considering how quickly Jolteon wanted to move on their way to the gym just before, it made sense. Satisfied with that answer at least, Peter moved on to another subject that was on his mind. “Okay then, so what do I do if I'm attacked by wild Pokémon out there? I don't think Jolteon is ready to fight them off yet.”

    “Got you covered,” Surge replied as he pulled a Pokéball off his belt and tossed it to the ground.

    With a pop and flash, an Elekid materialized between Lieutenant Surge and Peter. It was the same Elekid that had first battled Jolteon when Peter arrived in Vermilion City a few days earlier. The Pokémon let out a fierce growl, or tried to sound fierce insofar as it could, and flexed its small arms in a proud pose, ready for battle.

    “You remember Elekid, yeah?” Surge said as he squatted down to the Elekid's level and patted the Pokémon in his head. “I have to send him to the Saffron City dojo to practice some fighting techniques, so why don't you take him with you? He'll be able to help you and Jolteon if you run into trouble on the way there.”

    “So I'm an errand boy too now?” Peter asked, eyeing the proud little Elekid, while Jolteon sniffed the other Pokémon curiously. In response, Elekid made an annoyed grimace and grunted back at Jolteon, causing the latter to step back.

    “Consider it at least partial compensation for everything we're doing for you. As long as you're training under me, you may as well help with some of my gym's errands,” the gym leader explained as he stood up, and turned his full attention to the Elekid at his feet. “Elekid, today your mission is to accompany Peter Sine to the Saffron City Fighting Dojo. You will also defend him to your utmost abilities if he should come under attack from wild Pokémon en-route. Is that understood?”

    Like a good soldier to his commanding officer, Elekid snapped into a militaristic salute and gave Surge a sharp affirmative grunt.

    “Good. Then until further notice, I transfer command of Elekid to you, Peter,” the gym leader said, satisfied by Elekid's compliance, and handed Elekid's Pokéball to Peter.

    “Elekid, return,” Peter commanded as he held out the newly acquired Pokéball, and Elekid dematerialized into the sphere. Once he pocketed the Pokéball, the young man strapped the helmet on and headed for the locked bicycle, saying, “I guess I'm off to Saffron City then. Let's go Jolteon!”

    “Drop Elekid off with Hideki once you get to the dojo,” Surge instructed in a louder voice as Peter stepped further away. “He'll make sure Elekid is looked after.”

    Once the bicycle was unlocked ad the seat adjusted for Peter's height, he was off to the fighting dojo of Saffron City, with Jolteon running alongside.

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

    Shortcut Circuit

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

    The distance between Vermilion and Saffron City wasn't especially great. It could be comfortably walked in about two hours without interruptions, but a bicycle would cut that down to a small fraction of the time. Though the four major cities of Central Kanto; Celadon, Cerulean, Saffron and Vermilion; were all considered separate municipalities, their sheer proximity practically made them all suburbs of each other. Whether by foot, car, train, or bicycle in Peter's case, they were all easily accessible to one another. It was not at all uncommon for people to commute between the cities as Peter was doing now.

    It had been some time since Peter had last made regular use of a bike for travel. Between the expansion of the Magnet Train lines, and a lack of his own Pokémon to fend off wild attacks, a bicycle just became inconvenient for anything more than travel within the city limits itself. That, and when Peter was much younger, he absolutely dreaded going on those 'family bike rides' his mother and father would joyfully insist that Peter and his brothers participate in when they wanted to cultivate some 'family time'.

    Awkward childhood memories aside, travel by bicycle felt nice. You felt the wind in your face and hair as you moved, the blood was pumping through your veins as you pedaled, the scenery was always changing, anything by the road was immediately accessible to you whenever you wanted, and you were getting somewhere to boot. Additionally, you didn't have to contend with the headaches of automotive traffic nearly as much as you would in a car. It was pleasant, practical, and relatively pain-free, enough so that Peter could grudgingly appreciate why his parents liked doing it so much, and wanted to drag their kids along for it every chance they got.

    Jolteon for her part seemed to love every moment of the trip. She could easily keep pace with the bicycle at every point, even at Peter's top speed on the route's straightaways. For a moment, Peter jokingly considered if Surge would let him trade in the bicycle for a motorcycle instead, just so Jolteon could have a true challenge in her runs–

    A wild Abra appeared, having teleported right into the path of the bike just ahead.

    “Out of the way!” Peter shouted out as he frantically rang the bell on the handlebar.

    There was no time. The yellow psychic Pokémon wasn't moving, and just floated a few feet off the ground at a frightfully rapidly diminishing distance from Peter. Gritting his teeth, the young man gripped the brakes and swerved hard to avoid the oblivious Abra. In an instant, the strained wheels beneath Peter lost their grip on the path below, and the bike began to slip out from underneath him. In a sudden flash of panic, Peter clenched the brakes as hard as he could, locking the wheels in place. The bike stopped in its tracks alright, but Peter, still carrying his own formidable momentum, was flung off the bike toward a thick patch of grass at the side of the path.

    “Well, damn,” Peter quickly grumbled as he was hurled through the air, letting out a grumpy sigh in the process.

    Even in this moment of minor disaster, Peter Sine still had enough of his mental and motor faculties intact to tuck his limbs in and roll with the crash. The next instant he struck the ground at a shallow angle, softened by the grass, and gracelessly tumbled to a stop a few disorienting and dizzy moments later. He found himself sprawled in the grass a short distance from the bicycle he'd been thrown from, and other than a few bumps and bruises and a few grass and dirt stains on his clothes, the young man was fine. From what Peter could see from where he was, the bike was apparently fine as well, although the drive chain had jostled loose from the gears. That would be an easy fix with a few moments of attention–

    A telltale blip behind Peter let him know that something had teleported in. When he turned to see, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw that same Abra hovering a few feet away, curiously eying the scene it had caused.

    “Really?” Peter blurted out in an irritated voice as he picked himself up. “You couldn't have picked another place to teleport? Any place at all?”

    Although he was grateful for being relatively unhurt from the crash, Peter was more annoyed at the inconvenience of it all, how one little thing caused an unnecessary and lengthy time delay on his way to Saffron City, not to mention how his clothes were messed up, and how sore some of his joints were going to be later. At the same time, this incident with the Abra reminded Peter of his father's nosy Xatu: how it would teleoprt in at random, usually at inconvenient times to check up on him when he was still living with his family.

    With her ears perked up, and a touch of curiosity, Jolteon approached the nearby Abra–

    A loud growl from nearby interrupted everything. Peter, Jolteon, and even the wild Abra snapped their heads toward the source.

    A stocky Granbul pounced out from another nearby patch of grass, and with an angry roar, it charged at Peter and the two Pokémon next to him–

    With another blip, the Abra teleport away, leaving Peter and Jolteon alone.

    In a brief flash of panic, with a furious wild Pokémon closing fast, Peter clasped Elekid's Pokéball and flung it between himself and the incoming Granbul.

    “Elekid, go!” the young man called out as he scrambled onto his feet.

    The wild Granbul hesitated a moment when Elekid materialized in his path, giving an irritated growl at the newcomer that stood in its way. Not wasting an instant, Elekid immediately took an active stance, ready to defend Peter and Jolteon as he was ordered to.

    “Low kick!” Peter sputtered, hastily remembering one of the moves the Pokémon knew.

    With an affirmative grunt, Elekid dashed forward at the Grandbul before dropping into a low sweeping kick at the Pokémon's legs. The Granbul let out an angry roar when the blow connected, but didn't seem at all hurt as Elekid's kick practically bounced off his opponent's leg, only making it even angrier. In response, Granbul took a heavy swipe at the startled Elekid. The electric Pokémon bounced away with a pained wail, then landed sprawled on the ground a few feet away.

    With Elekid out of the way, the wild Granbul returned its full attention to Peter again, growling and grumbling as it padded threateningly toward the young man.

    “Elekid, get up! We need your help!” Peter yelled out as he took a few steps back. He began to wonder, if Elekid didn't get up in time, he might have to fight off Granbul himself. The bicycle helmet might work alright as an impromptu shield and weapon if it came to it, but–

    A light crackling of electricity jarred Peter from his thoughts. The young man suddenly noticed that Jolteon had slipped beneath his vision, and had placed herself between Peter and the wild Granbul.

    “Jolteon no! It's dangerous!” he called out in a sudden rush of panic. There was no way the little yellow Pokémon was anywhere near ready for a battle, not yet, not against this Granbul.

    Despite Peter's warning though, Jolteon dashed ahead at Granbul anyway. Yet rather than 'attacking' per-se, Jolteon simply dashed and jumped all around Granbul, uttering a series of yips and small barks. Jolteon wasn't fighting, Peter realized, she was playing. Whatever the case, Granbul was thoroughly distracted by the little yellow flash bouncing all around it, and did its best to remove Jolteon. She so easily outmaneuvered and outran the bulkier wild Pokémon though, as long as she didn't lose focus, Peter supposed she could probably keep the Granbul occupied indefinitely–

    No. Every second this went on put Jolteon at risk. It would only be a matter of time before the probabilities played out, a mistake would be made, and catastrophe result. That being the case, Peter had to minimize the time spent now, and he made a decision.

    His brow lowered into a determined gaze, and his stance became firm and full of purpose. Peter Sine held out the Pokéball Surge gave him earlier, and ordered in a clear voice, “Elekid, return!” In response, the confused and disoriented Elekid looked up momentarily before he was dematerialized back into his ball.

    “Just keep Granbul occupied for a few more seconds, Joltoen!” Peter ordered as he rushed toward the fallen bicycle.

    Jolteon didn't seem to acknowledge Peter's order one way or another, but continued to play and tease with the furious wild Granbul regardless. In any case, it bought enough time for Peter to get to the bike and get to work. As he guessed, it was just a simple matter of feeding the loose drive chain back into the pedal gear's teeth. Once the chain was seated, he gave the wheel a quick spin to make sure everything was still aligned. It spun flawlessly: good.

    And just like that, it was done. It only took a few seconds, but it would have been impossible while under attack from the wild Granbul. With his work finished, Peter mounted the bicycle, called out to his still playfully teasing Pokémon, “Okay Joltoen, let's go!” and began to drive off along the path once more.

    As soon as Jolteon saw that Peter was underway again, she abandoned the game with Granbul and happily resumed running alongside Peter, leaving the wild Pokémon in her dust.

    Between his sleepless night, hungry morning, and unexpectedly dangerous commute, the day was not off to a good start. That being said, it also wasn't complete disaster, not yet at least. Peter could only hope that his upcoming time at the Fighting Dojo would be time well spent, and worth the trouble today was putting him through.

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    Wow, that was a short chapter.

    This was originally meant to be the first part of a much larger chapter, but I know some of my chapters have dragged on a while, and could potentially make reading them a bit of a chore. So this is my way of trying out something to alleviate that. Also, at least for my chapter writing, they have to meet a requirement that each chapter has a self-contained arc of its own; a small-scale exposition/rising action, climax, and dénouement/resolution; a beginning, middle and end. Once I finished this part, I felt it could reasonably meet my personal criteria and still act as a transition piece. I also hope this chapter, with more hints of backstory/background, also begins to shift narrative gears from Jolteon herself, to Peter, as that's where the next major point of development will be.

    Speaking of, I've noticed several stories that run long on this site group chapters by "Arc". I may try that out later once different phases of development become more clear in the story. For the time being though, I'll stick to simply the chapters; there's few enough of them at the moment I think

    Thanks to everyone who's been sticking by this story as it continues to develop and grow! Your responses, feedback and reactions have been an utter boon to the creative process, and I hope to hear back from everyone again soon!

    Edit Notes 01/16/2018:
    Cleaned up formatting issues/typos. Tweaked narration a bit here and there. No major content changes.
     
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    • Ch 8: Step Up Transform
    • ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Step-up and Transform

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

    “Well, we made it,” Peter observed dryly as he locked the bike just outside the Saffron City Fighting Dojo.

    After the harrowing incident with an Abra and Granbul, the rest of the commute was thankfully uneventful. Running into wild Pokémon after Surge's Elekid was weakened could have ended badly. So it was with great relief, though not outwardly obvious given his reserved nature, that Peter Sine approached the Fighting Dojo with Jolteon at his heels.

    Peter didn't know a lot about the Dojo itself, only what he learned from hearsay. What he did know was that it used to be Saffron City's official League Gym until a little over ten years ago, when the Psychic facility next door was refurbished as a gym. Even so, the Dojo would still occasionally play host to high-profile exhibition matches, and was also used as a specialized training venue, the latter of which was what brought Peter here today.

    In stark contrast to the highly urbanized downtown of Saffron City where it stood, the Fighting Dojo was a fresh breath of rustic serenity. The entire block where it resided was free of any large buildings, and was instead reserved entirely for the walled Dojo compound and its surrounding gardens. The short gravel path just inside the outer gate leading up to the front door of the main building was lined with statues depicting many fighting-type Pokémon, with Machamp and the Hitmon family among the more prominent. The main Dojo building itself was a wide, perfectly symmetrical structure built out of sturdy wood, with a large sweeping roof that hung out over the outer walls: a fine example of traditional Kanto-style architecture.

    A few moments later and Peter was at the large wooden double door at the front of the Dojo, with a pair of heavy iron knockers crafted in the shape of Primape fastened to the outside.

    “Well, here goes nothing,” Peter muttered as he lifted one of the knockers with an aside glance to Jolteon, who just looked back with her head tilted to one side. Then the young man used the knocker on the door, which resonated with a deep thud!

    After a few seconds of waiting, the door creaked open, revealing a stern faced middle-aged Kantonese man wearing a traditional loose-fitting fighting uniform.

    “Excuse me, I'm looking for Hideki,” Peter said.

    “I am he,” the man answered curtly. “You must be Surge's new pupil, Peter Sine?”

    “Yes, I was told you'd arranged a fitness regimen for Jolteon and I,” Peter answered, gesturing to the Jolteon at his feet. The Pokémon didn't seem to be paying much attention, and just scratched herself behind her ear.

    “Correct,” Hideki confirmed with a firm nod, “but first, you have Surge's Elekid.” At that he held out his hand expectantly, waiting.

    Peter complied promptly, handing the Poké ball to Hideki after he fished it out of his pocket. Once he had it, Hideki released Elekid on the ground next to the two. The Pokémon however was still severely weakened from the run-in with Granbul earlier. Instead of his usual vigor, Elekid simply lay slumped face-down, unable to move.

    “What's the meaning of this?” Hideki demanded, shooting Peter a disapproving scowl.

    “Surge told me to use Elekid if I ran into any trouble on the road getting here,” Peter hastily explained, “Seems it was more than Elekid could handle.”

    “Perhaps, or more than you could handle,” Hideki said as he returned Elekid to his Poké ball with a sigh, “Nevertheless, this Elekid is clumsy and inexperienced, which is why he is sent here for practice and training; similarly with you, it would seem.”

    The older martial artist turned and stepped into the Dojo's entrance, with Peter following close behind.

    “Now hold on just a min–” feeling unjustly insulted, Peter attempted to explain the situation on the road earlier, but was cut off.

    “Katsuo! Shinobu!” Hideki called out in a loud clear shout.

    Almost immediately, two younger men arrived, both of whom were in similar simple training uniforms as Hideki. The old master handed Elekid's Poké ball to one of the students, while the other presented Peter with a neatly folded training uniform of his own.

    “Change, then we will continue,” Hideki instructed, motioning toward a nearby folding privacy screen.

    For the time being, Peter would just have to let that jab at him slide, and do as was expected. He accepted the uniform from the student, and went to change.

    The uniform consisted only of a loose pair of pants and a jacket, secured with a cloth belt. It was made of of light, sturdy material, fitted loosely, as not to hinder movement during training drills and sparring. It felt comfortable enough to Peter once he'd changed, and would work well for the training he was expecting. He couldn't help but feel a little exposed though, without his pockets and belt full of his familiar multitool, mobile phone, wallet and other everyday necessities. Never mind how absolutely helpless his bare feet felt, being outside the safety of the heavy steel-toed boots he was so used to wearing.

    Once changed into the training uniform, and all of his personal clothes and belongings secured in one of the lockers, Peter returned to Hideki, who'd been waiting patiently.

    “Follow me,” the older martial artist instructed as he turned and entered further into the Dojo.

    The main floor was a large column-lined square, taking up almost the entire size of the building. The center of the main chamber was occupied by the battle floor. Despite rigorous adherence to traditional building materials, there were certain key features that Peter noticed. Most importantly were a number of containment field and barrier generators placed around the central battle floor. It would be necessary for a major battle venue like this, considering how heated Pokémon battles can sometimes get, and the relative fragility of traditional wooden architecture. It just wouldn't do to have to rebuild the Dojo every time a major battle was hosted.

    Though the main battle floor was unoccupied for now, the areas surrounding it played host to a small number of trainers and their Pokémon as they practiced. The Pokémon of course practiced against each other, but the trainers practiced hand-to-hand against one another as well. In at least in a few cases, Peter could see some trainers sparring with Pokémon.

    Hideki led Peter past them though, and took the young man to a room off to one side. The room was a completely empty square space, about twenty feet across with a bamboo mat floor. The young man had a pretty good idea what the room was meant to be used for, and sure enough...

    “You will fight me hand-to-hand, any way you like,” Hideki stated bluntly.

    “Right now?” Peter asked, a little confused. “Just like that?”

    “It is how I will assess you, and how I will then decide by what method to train you.”

    “You can't just ask me, or don't you have something already laid out?”

    “Words, questions and answers, are fickle things; vague impressions at best. They are subject to whim, to personal motives, and to individual interpretation,” Hideki explained. “Your actions, your choices, how you respond under threat are all absolute and unambiguous answers. Therefore, you will fight me, and I will assess you.”

    Suddenly the older master dropped into a sturdy looking fighting stance, and called out, “Prepare yourself!”

    Jolteon jumped between them and started to build up a charge, glaring at Hideki feircely. It was as if the young Pokémon was trying to defend Peter from a threat.

    “Stay back girl,” Peter instructed, and stepped forward past Jolteon. “This is something I need to do myself.”

    And just like that, Peter Sine went into a simple boxer's stance and began sparring with Hideki. In the past, Peter used to train a little in boxing, more for the physical fitness aspects than for actual fighting. Still, it was the best he had, so it was what he used.

    For the most part, Peter kept his defenses up and his feet moving to always face his opponent, to always be aware of Hideki's position and possible moves. He generally waited for Hideki to make the first move, but even so, it felt like Hideki's 'attacks' were more like experimental prods than blows with any true intent to hurt, or even defeat. Peter's own exploratory jabs were all deflected with ease, but that was kind of the point. He wanted to see what kind of defense Hideki would put up in the face of a standard attack, wanted to see the movements he made, so Peter could come up with something...

    Peter jabbed with his left again, and followed up with a right hook, which Hideki easily deflected downward. Instead of backing off and putting the defense up again though, Peter instead kept the momentum of the right hook going. Peter pressed the attack forward, redirected his right forearm inward to form a close elbow-strike, and placed the foot he used to step forward behind Hideki's own. Between the shock of the elbow-strike, the force behind Peter's aggressive positioning, and the clever footwork to create a tipping point, he had caught the master off-balance, or so it seemed.

    Rather than fall backward, Hideki took the sudden rearward momentum Peter had thrust upon him and performed an impressive backward somersault, landing right on his feet.

    From that point on, Hideki stepped up his game. His prodding experimental strikes were replaced now by swift feints and brutal counterattacks. Every punch Peter threw was dodged or deflected, and returned with a counter blow. Thankfully Hideki never actually fully connected his attacks, and instead stopped his blows just before contact. Though Peter was never hurt, he knew each of Hideki's successful attacks would have been painful and effective.

    It was frustrating for Peter, since he felt woefully unprepared even for a simple 'assessment' as Hideki called it. How was he supposed to show his best qualities through a hand-to-hand brawl versus a master martial artist when he himself was never formally trained for such things? For that matter, this was supposed to be the start of a fitness regimen, not an induction into some kung-fu cult. It was all starting to feel like a waste of time–

    “Stop,” Hideki said suddenly, holding out his hand. “I have made my assessment.”

    “And what does it say?” Peter asked, straining a polite tone to conceal his cynicism.

    “You are sound of judgment, with a keen sense of awareness,” the older martial artist stated bluntly. “Your reflexes are sharp, and you have considerable strength. You are also a careful planner, as well as insightful and inventive.”

    “Thanks?” Peter replied meekly.

    “However,” Hideki continued quickly, “you are extremely hesitant and indecisive, unwilling to commit to attacks or counterattacks, easily thrown off by basic confusion tactics. This indecisiveness, as well as your relative inexperience, makes you fight like a clumsy bumbling oaf. Your inventiveness only shows when you have had time to deliberate the situation, and form a complete plan in advance; time you will seldom have in battle. With training though, you could become a force to be reckoned with, of this I have no doubt.”

    “So what you're basically saying is, 'I'm an awkward mess with great potential',” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Not like I haven't heard that line a hundred times now.”

    It was like a broken record to Peter by this point, simple 'fortune cookie wisdom' that everyone and their mother spouted about hidden potential. It was the kind of dribble that everyone gets told to help motivate them, that 'everyone is special', that 'anything is possible with a little hard work'. It wasn't motivating or inspirational: it was belittling, condescending, patronizing and quite frankly, insulting.

    “If I may ask, is your mind in conflict?” Hideki questioned quite calmly.

    It seemed like he had a point to make, so Peter humored him. “Suppose it is?”

    “If you are comfortable answering, I would ask the subject of your conflict.”

    “It's Jolteon,” Peter answered quickly, pointing to the small yellow Pokémon in question. After a second he realized that the answer was a little too sudden, and wasn't quite right, prompting him to adjust it. “I mean, it's what everyone is doing for me because of Jolteon.”

    “Can you elaborate?” Hideki pressed, tilting his head in interest.

    “It's like, because I have an exceptionally powerful Pokémon, and I'm not a total idiot, I'm expected to train her to the full extent of her capabilities,” Peter rambled, no quite sure if he was wording his concerns the way he wanted to. “It's not enough for that she simply be safe and happy: everyone wants to see her reach her maximum potential, and see how I handle her.”

    “Do you not want to train Jolteon?” Hideki asked.

    “I do, but...” Peter let out a sigh through gritted teeth, “If I'm going to be honest, this whole Dojo excursion seems superfluous and unnecessary for my training purposes, for what I need.”

    “Explain.”

    “I went to the Vermilion gym to train Jolteon,” Peter insisted, pointing a firm finger at her. “How exactly does my learning how to fight in this Dojo benefit her?”

    At this, Hideki paused a moment. Then he took a deep breath, and let it out very slowly, before beginning a calm an deliberate clarification. “Studying and practicing martial arts is not the same as merely learning how to fight. To train, whether it is a martial art or your own Pokémon, is to first train Internally: your mind, your spirit, your own life-force. Then you train Externally: the health of your body, your reflexes, coordination and awareness of surroundings. By training yourself both internally and externally, by developing a clear harmony between mind, body and spirit, you will become better prepared to train and guide others, like your Jolteon. It is true that such training and study benefits you first and foremost, but as Jolteon's trainer, what benefits you will benefit her by extension, and any other Pokémon you train.”

    “But is it really necessary?” Peter asked, still skeptical. “Do I need to develop all my mind, body, spirit, life-force things to be ready to train Jolteon?”

    “It is my belief that it is absolutely necessary,” Hideki said as a firm, certain answer. “Jolteon may gain control of her powers, but she is still a child, in need of parenting and guidance. If left to her own devices, will she gain control over her desires, her impulses, her willfulness? Will she continue to trust your judgment and guidance as she grows? If you are uncertain and indecisive, Jolteon will decide on her own, and her decisions may not align with what you want, or even what's best for herself. That will cause... problems.”

    Peter was reminded of Jolteon's likely thieving habits, as well as her struggle with her fear...

    “For many trainers, it takes a very long time and much hardship for them to learn this lesson on their own,” Hideki continued. “In my Dojo however, it is the very first lesson I teach: a fundamental foundation.”

    “Yeah well, I think I've had my fill of 'hardship' already–” Peter cut himself off, realizing he let that slip, and became a little annoyed at himself. “I don't think I need this lesson for me.”

    “I see,” Hideki said quietly as he lowered head, “I will not train you if you do not wish to be trained. Likewise, you should not train Jolteon if you do not wish to train her.”

    “But that's the thing,” Peter corrected hastily. “I do want to train Jolteon, but I'm not sure I need all this extra training everyone wants to push on me.”

    “Why, Peter, is this such a significant conflict in your mind?” Hideki asked much more sternly now, eyeing the young man with a relentless gaze. “Do you know the root source? Is it the 'hardship' you referred to, perhaps?”

    “It's... something I don't talk about, from my past...” Peter admitted, but without giving any more information. Bringing up that incident from years ago always made things incredibly awkward, hanging over conversations like a rumbling storm cloud once they knew. He preferred not to think about it at all if he could help it. “If it's alright with you, I want some time to think it over.”

    “Of course,” Hideki said with an understanding nod. “Feel free to use our training room, or the meditation gardens outside the Dojo. Take the time you need to contemplate, but return to me once you have arrived at a decision.”

    “Thank you...” Peter said, relieved Hideki didn't press the issue, and he turned to leave, “let's go, Jolteon.”

    “One more thing before you leave,” the martial artist interrupted, just before Peter was out of the room. “Surge tells me you are a musician, correct?”

    “I suppose I am,” the young man confirmed with a shrug.

    “In musical terms, what does it mean to be in harmony?” Hideki asked.

    “Harmony: it's when two or more different tones play at the same time, and the waveforms interact in such a way that they reinforce and build upon each other, producing a clearer, more robust sound,” Peter explained easily, as these concepts were second-nature to him, part of both his musical and technical skill-set. “It's a result of what's called 'Constructive Interference' in more technical terms.”

    “And when in disharmony?”

    “Thats dissonance: when the waveforms of two or more tones don't align well at all, break each other down, producing a grating, unpleasant, weaker sound. It's likewise a product of 'Destructive Interference'.”

    “Is harmony desired?” Hideki added as a follow-up.

    “Harmony is a lot more pleasant to hear, and dissonant tones really grind on the ears after a while. In short bursts though, a moment of dissonance that resolves to a solid harmony can be really satisfying to listen to. There's more advanced theory I could go into, but–”

    Hideki held up a hand in the 'stop' gesture, cutting Peter's in-depth explanation off. When the older master spoke, he took a more somber tone. “The answer to my question is not meant for me. It is something you must contemplate on your own.”

    Peter was beginning to accept that there was a lot on his mind, more than he cared to share for now, with Hideki watching every little twitch and putting words in his mouth. So he simply told the older man, “I'll be back soon.”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    Being away from the prying eyes of Hideki was an utter relief for Peter, and it gave him a chance to check on Elekid, if for no other purpose than to take his mind off things for a few moments, let his thoughts settle. After asking around, Peter soon found Surge's Elekid in another training room, shared among several similarly young Pokémon. To his surprise, Peter found Elekid practicing with a Riolu, of all things.

    Riolu, a small mostly blue bipedal canid Pokémon, were rare in Kanto, but not unheard of, particularly for trainers with a flare for the exotic. In Peter's limited experience, the few trainers of Riolu Peter had met all came across as little more than arrogant, self-important braggarts. They seemed overly interested in showing off their rare Pokémon, and couldn't wait to evolve it into a 'badass' Lucario. Peter had never actually seen the fully evolved form in person, and he could only guess the afore-mentioned empty-headed braggarts never managed to evolve the Riolu they were so very proud of.

    In the bout between Riolu and Elekid that Peter found them in, Elekid couldn't seem to land a single blow. Every punch and kick the rowdy little electric type used were sidestepped and dodged by Riolu with ease. For a second, Peter was reminded of his own woefully one-sided fight against Hideki, how unprepared he was to take on someone that skilled. It was a similarly dire situation here: no matter how much Elekid tried, no matter how fast he moved, Riolu was simply that much quicker. The little blue fighting type Pokémon actually looked rather bored to be fighting against Elekid.

    With an enraged grunt, Elekid threw a powerful uppercut, which finally connected, knocking Riolu clean off its feet–

    The attack missed. Riolu hadn't been struck by an uppercut at all, and had simply leapt into kicking counterattack that hit Elekid square in his face. Elekid tumbled back with a yelp of pain, collapsing in a heap at Peter's feet, and nearly startled Jolteon. Riolu finished the attack in a graceful backflip, landing on its feet with no trouble. With a huff, the blue Pokémon crossed its arms, and sneered down its nose at its defeated opponent.

    “You okay Elekid?” Peter asked, kneeling down next to the fallen Pokémon.

    Elekid pushed himself to his feet, snarling at the little blue fighting-type, hungry for another fight. Riolu leered back at Elekid, and turned its back with a dismissive wave. Elekid nearly had a fit of outrage at that, being snubbed like it was nothing.

    “Figures,” Peter muttered. This Riolu was demonstrating all the sour arrogant qualities which made this kind of Pokémon leave a bad taste in his mouth.

    “Riolu, apologize to Elekid at once,” a young woman's voice said from nearby.

    The woman who spoke stepped in next to the haughty Riolu. She was dressed in the Dojo's training uniform, similar to the one Peter and others here were wearing, and her long brown hair was tied back in tight ponytail. Riolu looked up at the young woman, tilting its head with questioning look, as if to ask 'why?'

    “It doesn't matter that you have more skill and experience, that's no reason to be rude,” the woman calmly insisted. Her tone and demeanor were gentle, but with a subtle hard edge beneath it. “Elekid is here to train, to learn, to grow stronger just like you. So please, instead of putting him down, help him practice and get stronger.”

    Riolu gave a weary look at the offended Elekid, and let out a reluctant sigh as it bowed in a gesture of humility. Elekid simply stuck out his tongue and pouted, unsatisfied by Riolu's half-hearted apology. The little blue fighting-type rolled its eyes at the insult, and looked back at the woman with an indignant 'I told you so' expression.

    “Come on Elekid, don't be like that,” Peter groaned, rubbing his forehead in minor frustration. “Riolu was at least trying to apologize.”

    “Oh, I'm sorry,” the young woman said meekly as she approached Peter. “Is this your Elekid?”

    “He's Lieutenant Surge's Elekid, from the Vermilion Gym, and there's no need to apologize. I'm looking after him, sort of,” Peter explained, and extended his hand as he remembered to introduced himself, “I'm Peter Sine.”

    “Pleased to meet you,” she reciprocated politely, returning the handshake Peter offered. “I'm Helena Cobalt–” Helena was interrupted when Jolteon jumped up and propped herself up on the woman's leg, looking up at her with wide begging eyes.

    “Oh! Why hello there,” Helena greeted as she pet Jolteon, giving the Pokémon the affection and attention she was begging for.

    “Sorry about that,” Peter said, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “She's my Pokémon.”

    “You don't have to apologize for her: she's just young,” Helena assured, and scratched behind her ears, eliciting a pleased squeal from Jolteon. “She's such a beautiful Jolteon, and so friendly too.”

    “Thanks...” that's when Peter noticed that Helena's Riolu had stepped up, and was watching him closely, not taking its eyes off the young man at all. “What is it? Is there something on my face?” Peter asked the staring little fighting-type Pokémon.

    Riolu just shook its head, then touched a paw to Helena and looked up at her to get her attention. Once the young woman turned to see what her Riolu wanted, the little fighting-type looked back to Peter again, with a look of concern that was mirrored in Helena as well.

    “Um, is everything alright?” Helena asked, “You seem confused, preoccupied.”

    Dammit.

    Peter knew Riolu could have minor empathic capabilities, similar in some ways to psychic-types. He really didn't appreciate this sort of mental prying, and the young man silently let Riolu know so. It should be able to feel the disapproval quite clearly, since Peter made sure to emphasize it in his thoughts. If growing up in a house with a nosy psychic-type had taught him anything, it was how to communicate to an empath clearly without words or outward cues.

    Riolu didn't seemed fazed by Peter's bitterness at all. The little blue fighting responded with a simple nod, and looked back up to Helena. At the same time it sent Peter a feeling of skepticism, like it somehow knew better...

    “I've... just got a lot on my mind,” Peter confessed, catching Helena's interest. “Heck, I don't even know what I'm doing here: going to this dojo, wearing this bizarre kung-fu getup. It all seems... unnecessary.”

    “Then, why are you here?” Helena asked curious.

    Peter went on to explain his situation with Jolteon, how she suddenly evolved, and how he was determined to train her. Then he summed up what he and Jolteon have done so far at the Vermilion Gym. Helena was easy to talk to for Peter: she listened politely to everything Peter had to say, and encouraged him to go on, even when he felt a little embarrassed at some points. She didn't make him feel silly or inadequate, or pass scathing judgment. Helena simply listened and let Peter say what he wanted to, all the way to the end.

    “So I agreed to train Jolteon according to Surge's instructions,” Peter said, finishing up his recap of the last few days, “but I think he's taking this whole thing a little overboard, like he expects me to be the next big ace trainer or something.”

    “I'm sure he has his reasons for sending you here,” Helena assured.

    “Yeah, well, I'm starting to think I might not like those reasons,” Peter grumbled, more suspicious of the gym leader now.

    “I don't know if it'll put things in perspective for you, but I understand what you're going through. It was very similar when I first started training Riolu:” Helena admitted, motioning toward her stoic fighting-type, “I was so confused, at a complete loss, a total wreck.”

    “That bad?” Peter said in a questioning tone, “but you both seem so suited to each other.”

    “Maybe, but we sure didn't start off that way, isn't that right Riolu?” she asked her Pokémon.

    Riolu gave a weary sigh and nodded in agreement, and Helena continued, her words heavy with hard experience. “He needs so much attention, and such rigorous daily practice. Fighting and martial arts is something I was never inclined to do in the first place, and I didn't think I could do it for Riolu. For some time, I seriously considered giving up Riolu to a trainer more suited to his temperament and needs, so he might be happier.”

    “But here you are, still with Riolu, and wearing a the whole kung-fu getup to boot,” Peter observed.

    “It was so hard for me when I first started my training with Riolu. I was afraid I wasn't up to the challenge, that I might hurt someone, or that Riolu would get out of hand and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. In the end though, I learned so much, and not just about training Riolu and martial arts. I discovered aspects hidden within myself I never thought were there...”

    Helena assumed a fighting stance, matched by Riolu, then both launched into a series of attack and defense maneuvers. Everything they did –every sweeping kick, every quick punch and every swift counterstrike– all flowed seamlessly together in a captivating display of grace and prowess. It was impossible to tell where one move ended and the next began. During this, Peter couldn't help but notice how beautiful Helena was when she moved: it was flowing poise, tempered by a sharp fierceness, and it was good.

    She and Riolu soon ended their brief demonstration in a saluting stance, accompanied by a small formal bow. Peter was left speechless by the spectacle, Elekid and Jolteon were in a similar state of awe.

    “I don't know if it'll help you make your decision, but I can tell you my experience stepping out of my comfort zone was absolutely invaluable. It was hard, and still is, but I have no regrets,” Helena said with a calm confidence. “I also have a feeling that, if you walk away from this, you'd spend a very long time wondering 'what if?' and that it would tear you up inside far more than if you had tried and failed.”

    Riolu gave Peter another look, and projected a feeling the young man could only call a dare, or a challenge. Somehow the spiteful little fighting-type could already tell that challenging his vanity was an effective motivator. How much was this little blue furball reading into Peter's mind anyway? He didn't know whether to be impressed, or infuriated. Riolu for his part was simply amused, and projected an air smugness right into Peter's mind.

    As long as this Riolu was trespassing in his mind, Peter decided he'd form a very specific, very deliberate thought for him to chew on,“We'll see how clever you are when Jolteon zaps your smug little butt in battle.”

    Then something happened that Peter didn't expect: he got a response, “bring it on, chump.”

    “Oh, its on,” Peter grumbled aloud, fighting the sudden urge to give any other outward cues. Riolu didn't need any to get the point, and there was no need to–

    “Did you say something, Peter?” Helena asked.

    “Uh,” Peter said, embarrassed that she heard that, “I mean, thanks for your help!”

    As the young man turned and left the training room with Jolteon on his heels, he could feel Riolu giggling in his head.

    “Keep it up, and we'll see who has the last laugh,” Peter added as parting words.



    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​



    Peter returned to the training room where Hideki was. The older master was sitting in meditation as he waited, and barely glanced up as Peter approached.

    “So, you have made your decision,” Hideki stated bluntly.

    Peter sat down opposite Hideki in the same meditative stance, saying, “I would be honored to train under you, so that my mind, my body and my spirit may be in harmony, that I may better train Jolteon.”

    Hideki gave Peter an intense scrutinizing look as he considered, and replied, “there is no hesitation in your voice, and I sense none in your demeanor. I accept you as my student, Peter Sine.”

    “Thank you for the opportunity,” Peter said, bowing his head.

    “Now that I have committed to training you, the next step is to determine how to do it: what style you will learn,” Hideki stated as he stood up, and began pacing through the training room. “It can be a style that shores up your weaknesses, plays to your strengths, sharpens your mind, or even all of them at once...”

    Jolteon bounded up and joined Hideki in his restless pacing, scampering at the martial artist's heels.

    “With Jolteon in mind, what do you think would be best for me?” Peter asked.

    “Hm...” Hideki stopped a moment and took a good hard look at Jolteon. At this the Pokémon sat back and tilted her head: an expression Peter came to know as slight confusion. After a few more moments, Hideki gave his summary, looking back and forth between Peter and Jolteon. “Jolteon is exceptionally quick to react to most threats, but you are hesitant and indecisive, which will only hinder Jolteon's natural swiftness. I believe you should learn to be quick yourself to best make use of Jolteon's quickness in battle. If not quickness of the body, then at least quickness of the mind and spirit, to be aware and alert, swift to decide and absolute in your communication.”

    “So how will I do that?” Peter asked as he stood up, eager to begin.

    “I could train you in such a way as to break down your hesitation, force you into a straightforward and aggressive style –your strong build would be suited to it– but it would undermine your natural heightened awareness, cleverness, and defensive leanings.” Hideki shook his head with a grunt, explaining, “it is a mindset more suited to a bruiser, and would encourage Jolteon to be more reckless and foolhardy by extension. No, we can't have that...”

    Hideki took a moment to consider things, and stepped slowly around Peter. He stopped after a few seconds and looked up, saying, “It's unusual, but I think I have another idea...”

    The martial artist assumed a rather bizarre looking stance, at least as far as Peter knew of fighting stances. Hideki leaned somewhat back, which placed all his weight on his rear foot, with his forward foot extended in front. His arms were likewise forward, with elbows tucked close to his chest. As far as Peter could tell, it looked like an impractical, unbalanced pose, unsuited for combat.

    “Match this stance if you can: observe the placement of my feet and hips closely, and replicate it,” Hideki instructed, and then added, “it will feel highly unnatural and uncomfortable at first.”

    “Okay...” Peter replied as he did his best to copy the stance.

    Sure enough, getting into the stance felt exceptionally odd. How did Hideki expect Peter to be able to effectively fight and train with all his weight on one foot? He felt like he could topple over at the slightest touch.

    “This is a basic stance of the 'Tempered Blade' style...” then Hideki launched into a demonstration of the style as he explained. “Tempered Blade makes use of a highly adaptable set of stances. The style focuses on balance, control, efficiency and adaptability. Though difficult to learn at first, it offers the capacity to react to virtually any incoming threat, while concealing your own capabilities from your opponent until necessary.”

    As Hideki demonstrated, Peter saw how the awkward-looking basic stance flowed into other stances, how the movement to and from stances was combined with attack, defense, and counterattack. It wasn't meant to be a stance to stay in for fighting, but merely a starting point that can go in virtually any direction.

    “This will be the basis for the style I will train you in,” Hideki announced as he ceased his demonstration, “I believe it suits your mentality well, and will greatly benefit you in other areas of training.”

    “Sounds good,” Peter said in a dry, but interested tone.

    “Then let us begin.”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    And there we have it! Dojo training begins!

    This is the second part of that "much larger chapter" the previous chapter was going to be apart of. As you could probably tell, this is pretty long, but hopefully not too dull. Also, focus is now shifting a bit away from Jolteon, and shedding a bit more light on Peter himself as a character.

    As always, your feedback is always welcome, and I look forward to hearing from you all!

    Edit Notes 01/16/2018:
    Cleaned up typos and formatting, not much change in content.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 9: Out of Phase
    • ------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Out of Phase

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

    The sun had dropped down in the sky a fair bit, but still hung around halfway between the horizon and azimuth: so it was late in the afternoon, or early in the evening. Peter Sine sat on the grass, beneath the cool shade of a tree a short way off the route path, having taken a short but much needed break during his commute back to Vermilion city. Jolteon was likewise resting next to Peter's feet, but she kept alert and aware, acting as a diligent sentry while her trainer laid back in weary repose. For now, Peter wanted nothing more than to relax a bit before he finished traveling the route.

    What a tiring, trying, strange day it had been...

    A small yip from Jolteon roused Peter from his rest. He found the little yellow Pokémon's ears perked up, and her eyes were focused keenly on an approaching figure in the distance.

    “Hey dude!” the incoming newcomer called out. “You, with the Jolteon!”

    As he came closer, it became apparent he was a teenage boy with olive toned skin and dark hair, maybe around thirteen or fourteen by Peter's guess. He was dressed in a worn pair of jeans, hooded sweatshirt, knitted beanie cap, and hauled a heavily laden backpack over his shoulders. With him was an energetic Growlithe trotting faithfully at the boy's heels. No question: this was a traveling trainer.

    “Can I help you?” Peter asked, hoisting himself to his feet as the eager trainer arrived. It was probably almost a good time to leave anyway.

    “Huh, your Jolteon looks pretty strong,” the teenager observed, while Jolteon cocked her head at him in curiosity.

    “Thanks,” Peter replied as he put on a polite smile through his weariness. “We've been doing some training lately.”

    “Awesome!” the trainer exclaimed with a beaming face. “Growlithe and I are training too, getting ready for our gym challenge against Lieutenant Surge.”

    “That's gonna be a tough battle,” the young man replied with a small nod, and scratched the back of his neck. “Good luck with that.”

    “Hey, since we're here and all, how about we throw down and have a match?” the olive skinned boy asked, eagerly pumping his fist toward Peter.

    That caught him off-guard for a bit, but he ought to have expected it, since these traveling trainer types were always ready to have a quick battle. With the day Peter had though, he didn't feel in any shape to indulge the trainer's request, and could only answer, “I uh... don't think I'm the right guy for that.”

    “Why the heck not?!” the boy demanded, throwing his arms up in a flabbergasted display of confusion and disappointment. “You got a pretty slick Jolteon there, and me and Growlithe could use the practice against Electric types.”

    “It's not that–”

    “You aren't afraid to lose, are you?” the younger trainer sneered back, cutting off Peter's response. “What do you think Growlithe, is this guy tough stuff, or just some wussy poser?”

    In response, Growlithe stepped in between Peter and the boy. The fire-type snarled up at the young man and uttered a fierce growl, while the air around the orange Pokémon distorted in wavy heat shimmer.

    Before Peter could react, Jolteon leapt between her trainer and the Growlithe that threatened him. She crouched low in and active stance, growling back at Growlithe as sparks crackled though the fur all over the little electric-type's body. To Peter's surprise and relief, Jolteon was totally in control of it: there was no fear or hesitation in her actions, and she seemed to have a firm grasp on her electrical power. As far as he could tell Jolteon wanted to fight.

    “You good for a battle, girl?” Peter asked, and why not? What harm could it do to have a friendly match?

    As her answer, Jolteon let out a proud howl, leering at Growlithe and the boy as she paced in front of her trainer.

    “Alright then, a battle it is,” Peter said with a nod. “Is a one-on-one okay: just Jolteon and Growlithe?”

    “Ha! Now that's more like it!” the boy exclaimed as he pumped his fist again, then added meekly, “sorry I called you a poser before, dude.”

    “It's alright. If nothing else, I aim to pose a threat to your victory,” Peter said with a little smirk as he stepped forward, offering a hand to the young trainer, “the name's Peter Sine, from Vermilion City.”

    “I'm Ismael,” the young trainer replied with a new tone of respect and appreciation, and shook Peter's hand. “Celadon City.”

    “Nice to meet you Ismael. Now lets you and I have a good clean match,” Peter said with an air of courteous formality, and the two prepared for their quick battle.

    A small grassy clearing nearby served as their impromptu battlefield. Ismael and Peter took positions opposite each other, while their respective Pokémon stepped forward ahead of them. In all this, Jolteon still growled and glared at Ismael and Growlithe across the clearing, with sparks crackling through her bright fur. She seemed almost... angry.

    “Take it easy girl,” Peter said to Jolteon quietly. “Growlithe never wanted to hurt me, they just wanted a friendly battle.”

    The Pokémon's reply came as a small huff and grumble, still eyeing her opponent across the grassy field. The weary young man wasn't sure if she understood or acknowledged his attempt at reassurance, but they'd agreed to a battle, so a battle it was.

    His next words were said loudly across the field to Ismael. “If you want the first move, its yours!”

    “Alright!” the boy said, shooting his arm forward as he shouted his command, “Will-O-Wisp and close the distance Growlithe, just like we practiced!”

    With a quick bark, Growlithe bounded forward across the grass, spouting small orbs of fire that raced ahead toward Jolteon, to which the Pokémon perked her ears up and cocked her head curiously. Oddly to Peter, the small flaming orbs didn't go straight for Jolteon, but instead seemed to position themselves around their target, slowly moving in, while Growlithe continued its approach...

    With a small start, Peter realized his opponent's plan and directed Jolteon, “don't let Growlithe box you in! Get out of there!”

    With blistering speed, Jolteon dashed between the flames and away from the fiery trap Growlithe had prepared, and–

    “Oh I don't think so,” Ismael said with a clever twinge to his voice, and ordered to Growlithe, “intercept with Flame Charge!”

    Growlithe bounded forward at its opponent, conjuring jets of flame to use as a booster of sorts. This gave the fire-type a fierce burst of speed, and it rocketed right at Jolteon, crashing into her with a hefty thump!

    Jolteon squealed in startled pain as she tumbled away to her side, skidding to a heap on the grass. As the little yellow Pokémon scrambled to her feet and shook herself off, Peter noticed a crackling in the air around Jolteon, and the snaps of many sparks through her fur. In a pang of worry, the young man felt for Jolteon's Poké ball as he watched. The little electric-type simply crouched low in that active stance, glaring back at the opposing Growlithe with her razor eyes while she emitted a low growl.

    “Easy girl,” Peter said, trying to reassure the frustrated young Pokémon. “We'll be ready for whatever comes next.”

    “Oh yeah? You ready for this?” Ismael boasted, and directed his own Pokémon, “Growlithe, Flame Charge and Dig!”

    With a howl, Ismael's Growlithe enveloped itself in flames and dove into the ground beneath its feet, leaving behind a vitrified bore hole in its wake. At this Jolteon took a step back with ears sprung upright, staring at the still smoldering hole.

    “Stay calm girl, I'll think of something...” Peter said quietly as he puzzled through the situation.

    Growlithe would have to emerge at some point, so it made the most sense to capitalize on the element of surprise and burst from the ground as close to or directly under Jolteon, giving her as little time to react as possible. If the timing of the attack could be pinned down though, it could be easy enough to avoid and counterattack, but the whole being underground element throws up all sorts of uncertainty...

    Peter felt a slight tremor under his feet, which must've been Ismael's Growlithe, passing through the soil below. After a scant moment of consideration, an idea occurred to the young man. Without wasting what little time there was left, Peter dropped down on all fours and pressed his ear to the ground, listening...

    “Dude? What the heck are you doing?” Peter heard his opponent ask through one ear, while the other listened for the telltale signs of the Growlithe. It was there: a steady kind of low rumble, rapidly increasing in intensity and pitch, and he could make out a vague direction it was traveling in.

    “Steady girl, wait for my signal...” Peter instructed Jolteon as he raised an arm, with the side of his head still plastered to the dirt.

    It was a bit ridiculous to look at perhaps, but he could use this for now, maybe. Hopefully Jolteon understood the instructions.

    “Dodge now!” Peter shouted as he swung his arm down.

    At once, Jolteon sprung away to the side just as Ismael's Growlithe burst up from the ground, wreathed in flames where its target had just been. With the amount of upward speed that fire-type had coming up from underneath, it'd be forced to hang in the air for a couple moments before gravity brought it back to the ground.

    “Thunder Shock!” Peter commanded before the surprise could set in for his opponent, before Growlithe could do anything else.

    With a sinister buzzing and crackling of electricity, and an intense howl from the Pokémon herself, a concentrated discharge arc sprung from Jolteon and struck Ismael's airborne Growlithe. The startled fire-type yowled in sputtering agony as it took the brunt of Jolteon's attack, until the orange puppy Pokémon flopped to the ground, and the relentless electric barrage ceased.

    Guilt suddenly took hold of Peter as he saw the slack form of Growlithe in front of him. That attack may have been enough to seriously injure Ismael's Pokémon, or maybe far worse. What if it was worse? What would that mean for Peter, for Jolteon? The little yellow Pokémon had stepped forward during her trainer's moment of stupor, curiously eyeing and sniffing her grim handiwork–

    “Growlithe!” Ismael cried as he rushed to the aid of his fallen Pokémon. Surprise and worry tainted his wide eyes and frantic words as he tore open his backpack and searched inside. “Come on, get up!”

    After a few seconds, Ismael fished out a small spray bottle that Peter knew was a potion, and sprayed the mist at a few points over the fallen fire-type's body. Yet no matter how the boy implored or treated, his Growlithe didn't budge, or show any sign of life at all. When Ismael knelt down and stroked his Pokémon's head, it finally opened a weary pair of eyes and uttered a weak whimper.

    “Better get to the Pokémon Center, and fast,” Peter recommended, still worried, but quietly relieved. “I think this is more than just a potion and some rest can handle.”

    “Yeah, I think you're right. Let's get you fixed up, buddy,” Ismael said in a low voice, and dematerialized his injured Growlithe into a Poké ball. Then he looked up, eyeing the the little yellow electric-type that was the cause of all this, and shook his head, saying, “man, your Jolteon's Thunder Shock is no joke: just one hit and Growlithe was down.”

    “I didn't know her attacks would be so intense,” Peter confessed, bowing his head in a gesture of humility. “I'm sorry.”

    “I'll just have to train harder and be more careful, that's all.” Ismael assured himself. then he looked to Peter, asking, “what about you? You gonna enter the League, or any competitions at all?”

    Honestly, the thought hadn't occurred to him, but now, after a battle like this...


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    Peter Sine stepped through the sliding doors into the lobby of the Vermilion Gym at a brisk pace with Jolteon trotting at his heels. The young man's steel-toed boots landed heavily as he swiftly moved to the reception desk, where Gregory was waiting.

    “Welcome back Peter,” the older gentleman greeted politely. “How was your trip to Saffron City?”

    “Fine,” Peter answered abruptly. “Do you know where Surge is? Is he busy?”

    “Lieutenant Surge is in his office, preparing to close down the gym for the evening, but he should be be able to accommodate you–”

    “Great, thanks!” Peter said, cutting Gregory off as he continued into the gym's main hallway.

    It was only a short walk to get to the gym leader's office, but all the while, Peter couldn't help but feel a little nervous on his way there. How would he react? What would it mean depending on the reactions? It didn't matter really: no matter what Surge would say, Peter had contingencies in place in his mind. Still, even having a plan –several, in fact– didn't ease the apprehension the young man felt, and it somehow made the walk feel much longer than it should have...

    When Peter did arrive outside the office door, which Surge had kept open, he was treated to an oddly mundane scene for one as unsubtle as Lieutenant Surge. The strapping veteran, still dressed in his trademark tank-top, cammo pants and sunglasses getup, was sitting behind a desk, squinting at a computer screen over the tops of his dark glasses, typing on a keyboard. It was probably necessary but otherwise dull housekeeping, but it mattered little.

    “I need a word with you,” Peter stated, and simply stepped right into the gym leader's office.

    “What's up?” Surge replied, barely more than a mumble as he briefly glanced away from his work. “How'd your first day with Hideki go?”

    He didn't answer the question. Peter didn't know how else he could say it, so just came out and said it straight, “I'm entering the company tournament with Jolteon.”

    At hearing this, Surge stopped everything. His fingers stopped the clacking of the keyboard mid-type, he rolled the office chair away from the computer screen, and his squinting eyes became that stern, scrutinizing gaze Peer had come to expect from Surge. With his full attention turned to Peter Sine, the gym leader then asked, strained with suspicion, “you're doing what-now?”

    “The Kanto Radio and Communications Service annual employee Pokémon tournament being held in Celadon City, coming up in a few weeks,” Peter explained, planting his hands on his chest. “I work for the company, so I'm entitled to enter if I choose to, which I now do.”

    “That's not part of my training program,” the gym leader said as he stood up, and leered down at the young man over his dark glasses.

    “I know, but I'm doing it anyway,” Peter replied, his tone unchanged from that flat but unwavering matter-of-fact timbre, unfazed by the pressure of Surge's disapproval.

    “Jolteon isn't ready for serious battling,” Surge declared, pointing out the small yellow Pokémon at Peter's feet, “and neither are you.”

    “We have three weeks to get ready,” Peter countered, holding up three fingers between the gym leader and himself, “and it's not even 'serious battling', it's just a little event the company throws for their workers.”

    For a few moments, Lieutenant Surge simply stood over Peter, arms crossed, brow furrowed, lips quivering in an effort not to grimace, and waited. In response, Peter simply waited right back. He looked back at the older gym leader through his steely, unflinching gaze, but still felt what may have been sweat run down his brow. He'd made his decision, and there was nothing Surge could say or do to make him change his mind about it, he was pretty sure.

    After many of these tense moments had passed, the gym leader seemed to realize this for himself, and he grumbled through gritted teeth, “fine, but I'm gonna ask one question, and I want to hear your answer in full.”

    “What question?”

    “Why?”

    “Why what?”

    “You agreed to my training regimen, Peter, you agreed to do exactly as I instructed,” Surge explained. His words came out in a low register, but with a deep resonating undertone that still commanded power, like the deep buzz of a live power line. “Why the change? Why do you suddenly need to enter this tournament?”

    A low, high-pitched whine at Peter's feet caught his attention: Jolteon. She'd hunkered behind Peter's firmly planted feet, and looked back up to Lieutenant Surge with fear in her eyes, bordering on terror. In response, the young man turned around and knelt down, comforting the startled young electric-type with the careful touch of his hand that he'd learned she enjoyed.

    “When I first arrived here, I was uncertain and desperate, and I needed someone to help point me in the right direction,” Peter explained while he continued to put Jolteon at ease, seeing how it worked, how much her state-of-being was improved. He then added over his shoulder to Surge, “thanks for that by the way.”

    “You're welcome,” the gym leader replied gruffly.

    “Thing is, I agreed to train Jolteon according to your methods for as long as it took to make her safe, and I've got a feeling she's catching on to her power way faster than you planned for,” Jolteon had come around now, and she delightedly rubbed her head against Peter's leg, letting out a satisfied yip. “What I didn't agree to was moving into the Vermilion Gym as a permanent resident, like Vincent.”

    “Whoever said anything about moving in?” Surge asked, sounding a little confused.

    “Whatever, not important,” Peter said as he stood up and collected himself, turning back to the gym leader and explaining, “I have a job to go back to, and I have to explain to everybody what exactly I've been doing with myself all this time. Entering the company tournament with Jolteon is as good a way as any for me to make my return. It'll also give everyone a good reason for my absence leading up to the tournament: training, which is what I'm supposed to be doing here if I recall.”

    “So you'd use this little tournament as an excuse for your absence, like you have to justify your choices,” Surge said with a scoff. “It's not enough to train for its own sake?”

    “I don't have to 'justify' anything, it's my choice what I do and how I live!” Peter shot back defiantly. “You can help me train for this tournament if if you want, or let me go if you don't. That choice is yours, I've already made mine...”

    Once again, Peter Sine and Lieutenant Surge found themselves staring at each other over the desk between them, with nothing but silence and time to be exchanged.

    “Alright, so that's how it is then,” Peter said quietly, and he turned to leave.

    “Peter, wait!” Surge said in a firm voice, just before he made it past the door frame.

    The young man stopped and looked back. He saw the gym leader let out a long sigh, shake his head, and say, “training for battle is... different from what I had in mind before. I'd have to make some changes.”

    “So what if its different? Let it be different,” Peter suggested with a mild shrug. “We should be able to adapt to changing circumstances, including training.”

    “And you're not wrong,” Surge agreed with a nod, adding, “just out of curiosity though: after you've competed in your company's tournament, what will you do then?”

    “I figure I'll just go back to work, like nothing ever happened,” Peter answered quickly, pausing just long enough to see if Surge's eyebrows formed that puzzled furrow again before adding, “that being said, I'd like to be able to change and adapt to whatever comes my way in the future, and I'd like to make my decisions well-informed with experience behind me.”

    “Hmph,” the gym leader grunted, “I take it your goal is to actually win this cute little tournament, am I right?”

    “I figure if I'm training here, under your guidance, then I ought to take a damn good crack at winning,” Peter declared confidently, adding, “I gotta do the reputation of the Vermilion Gym and its leader proud, after all.”

    Hearing this, Surge looked to Jolteon. Though his eyes remained hidden behind the dark glasses, the tightening of the gym leader's eyebrows and a slight twitch of his lips betrayed his grimace. Then with a quick huff, Lieutenant Surge stepped out from behind his desk, passed Peter, and marched right out of the gym leader's office.

    “You and Jolteon: battle floor, now,” he grunted over his shoulder without stopping.

    “What's going on here?” Peter asked as he tailed behind. “What does a battle have to do with anything?”

    “You can face me on the battle floor right now, or you can make good on your threat to walk away from my gym,” the older gym leader offered as his response, nearly mocking Peter's words before, “that choice is yours.”

    “This is insane!” Peter protested. “We can't battle you yet, Joltoen is in no shape to face you or your Pokémon, she needs more training!”

    “We live in an insane world, Peter!” Lieutenant Surge bellowed as he stopped and swung around to face Peter directly, gesturing widely all around himself, “Eevees accidentally evolve and go haywire, Gym leaders mysteriously vanish without a trace, and kids not even half your age take on the League and dangerous criminal elements... and they win,” then he turned and resumed his original path toward the battle floor, adding in a sour, condescending tone. “What's your excuse?”

    The young man stopped in his tracks upon hearing that. He was frustrated, anger boiling inside, but he tried desperately not to let it show while his teeth gritted and and his hand formed a clenched a fist. Then a small, but familiar growl at his side caught Peter's attention. Jolteon was crouched low, fur crackling with pent-up electricity, and eyes leering at Surge as he walked away. From what Peter could tell, the little yellow Pokémon regarded the veteran gym leader with the same defiant ferocity she had when Ismael and Growlithe challenged them earlier that day.

    In fact, Peter mused for a moment that if he hadn't gestured the command for 'hold', that Jolteon might have attacked Surge outright. In some ways, Peter was beginning to wonder how much of Jolteon's actions seemed like overt expressions mirroring his own thoughts and feelings that he normally kept in check, rarely expressed. It would explain what veteran trainers mean when they were 'in-sync' with their partner Pokémon, when each intuitively senses the others' intentions.

    No, it wasn't anything psychic or the like, but it could be psychological. When two waves from different sources interact, when they travel at similar or compatible rates in the same direction, they build upon each other and produce a more powerful, more resonant tone than either could on their own. When people, or trainers and Pokémon, interact and communicate, and they are a good fit for one another, so too are both stronger together than on their own...

    So this was Harmony.

    Peter Sine turned his attention down at Jolteon through his hard steely gaze, while the young restless thing looked back up at the man for direction. His expression wasn't angry, but onlookers might be forgiven to think so: it was simply the form Peter's face took when the muscles of his face flexed as a natural response to when he was determined and focused. Jolteon knew this, as she responded to his fearsome 'glare' with attentiveness, eagerly pawing at the ground beneath her. He gave the Pokémon a small firm nod, and strode forward after Surge while Jolteon trotted alongside.

    Peter and Jolteon arrived at battle floor a few moments later, where Surge and Raichu were waiting for them at the far end of the battlefield in the trainer's square. Apart from Peter, Surge, and their Pokémon, the Vermilion Gym's battle floor was completely deserted. The main lights weren't even turned on, leaving the floor with an eerie half-glow from the dim nighttime lighting overhead. The space had really been shut down for the evening, and Surge didn't seem to be compelled to set it all out again for whatever it was he had planned right now.

    “I have no excuse, Surge!” Peter announced as he took his place opposite the gym leader with Jolteon at his side. “I don't need one.”

    Lieutenant Surge didn't respond, and just stood there, arms folded over his chest, eyes hidden behind his dark glasses. As his only command, the gym leader quickly glanced down at Raichu and cocked his head forward. The electric mouse Pokémon obeyed the silent order and hopped forward, sparks crackling from the sacs on its cheeks.

    From his place, Peter pointed forward with the full length of his arm, looking through Surge's dark glasses across the battlefield and into his eyes, undaunted. Jolteon in turn leaped onto the battlefield opposite Raichu, fur dancing with sparks as she built up a hefty charge.

    Before Peter had a chance to get any of his bearings set though, Surge hollered a command across the battlefield, “Thunderbolt on Jolteon!”

    And Raichu obeyed. With a mighty crack, the orange rodent produced a bright lance of electricity that instantly connected the two electric-types. The attack filled the wide open battle floor with the flickering pale blue-white light, and the buzzing crackling of powerful electricity. The attack however didn't hurt Jolteon, not in the least. If anything, she became all the more infused with power. The sparks that had simply danced through her fur before now arced all around her, but she wasn't afraid, or out of control. Jolteon let out a howl, and prepared to advance on Surge's Raichu with all her might.

    That's when the gym leader issued another order. “Now, invert the charge! Reverse the current!”

    In a fraction of a moment, all of the electricity stopped; not just the attack, but all the electricity between the two Pokémon. The flicker of sparks and arcs winked out instantly, but the noise it caused still echoed and reverberated through the space for a few more seconds, until it died down to be replaced by a sudden, chilling silence. Then out of the silence came a weak, defeated whimper: Jolteon.

    The Pokémon staggered, utterly exhausted, struggling to stay on her trembling legs. Though she seemed physically unhurt, Jolteon's state appeared similar to her exhaustion after light bulb training, but to an extreme. Raichu on the other hand had flared to life with new vigor, with its cheek-sacs glowing brightly through the dimmed lighting. Peter could only surmise that Surge's Raichu had somehow siphoned off every last spark of electric charge from Jolteon, leaving her completely helpless...

    “Raichu,” Surge's firm voice called out from across the battlefield. “Focus Blast.”

    The orange rodent hopped forward and brought its forepaws together, and a bright light began to shine between them. Yet as the attack was prepared, there was nothing Jolteon could do to react, she was rendered too weak. At once panic arose in Peter when he realized Surge and his Raichu were serious, and weren't going to back down. That fear however was almost as quickly replaced by anger and outrage, that Lieutenant Surge –respected Kanto League gym leader– would stoop to such a petty low as this.

    “Screw this! Stop the battle!” Peter shouted, making no effort now to fight his rage or his disdain as he stepped onto the battlefield past Joltoen. “I won't let you hurt her like this just so you can prove a damn point!”

    Seething with disillusioned anger, the young man turned his back to Lieutenant Surge as he prepared to recall Jolteon into her Pokéball, then a laugh from the gym leader nearly sent him over the edge, “Don't stop, Raichu! Aim the blast at Peter!”

    Peter spun around on his heels when he heard that, only to see the bright light and hear the scream of Raichu's Focus Blast hurtling straight at him. The young man brought up his arms in from of him in an attempt to protect himself, and braced for the inevitable impact–

    There was a streak of yellow at the edge of his vision, and a sudden, terrifying wail of agony in his ears, but no impact. Instead, there was a skidding flop on the dusty battlefield floor, and a pained whine from Jolteon as she collapsed before Peter's eyes. She'd taken Raichu's attack for Peter in order to protect him.

    For a few dumbfounded moments, the young man could only stare slack-jawed at Jolteon, still processing the shock of the last few seconds. As he heard the approaching footsteps from the far side of the battlefield though, all of Peter's outrage came simmering back, “are you satisfied? Is your precious pride restored?” he spat in utter spite. “This is what you meant when you said 'she's not ready', isn't it?”

    “Wrong,” the gym leader answered firmly, yet calmly as he came to a stop a few feet from Peter and his defeated Pokémon. “I think Jolteon is far more ready than either of us have given her credit for.”

    “Then... what was the point of all that bluster and bravado? Using Raichu to attack me was incredibly risky,” Peter asked, shrugging and lifting his arms up. After thinking about it though, he came to a conclusion, one he should have guessed earlier: “this was some kind of a test.”

    “This was a test, but not a test meant for you. As far as safety goes, Raichu was already in on the gag, and only fired a very weak Focus Blast; it wouldn't have felt like anything more than a firm push,” Surge confirmed as he knelt down, examining Jolteon. The Pokémon groaned in quiet protest, but wasn't able to act, rendered too weak from her recent exertions, “I was testing Jolteon's resolve. I wanted to see for myself if she had the necessary motivation: the will to act.”

    “I'm guessing she has it,” Peter replied.

    The gym leader nodded, and produced a small rectangular battery from his pocket, the leads of which he touched to one of Jolteon's paws as he spoke. “Even when drained of all her electrical energy, and in the face of a powerful opponent, she still put herself in the line of fire to protect you. Never mind her power potential or anything else: loyalty and devotion as strong as hers is a rare thing, and I hope you will cherish it as we start training for your tournament.”

    Finished, both with his explanation and impromptu treatment for Jolteon, Surge scratched the small yellow Pokémon behind her ears and stood up. Though Jolteon was still visibly tired and exhausted from her previous ordeal, the extra power from the battery seemed to take the edge off her state, as she yawned and stretched herself out.

    “So, we're on then,” Peter said with a nod, satisfied. “What do you have in mind?”

    “There's a cafe at the end of the nearby boardwalk,” the gym leader directed. “Meet Gregory there at eight am sharp tomorrow, and be prepared to take notes.”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    And there we have it, the ninth chapter at last. I'm not sure precisely why it's taken me this long to update. I can't really blame writer's block entirely, since I had the outline for this chapter and several after pretty much planned out, lined up and ready to put together for a while. I suppose I can chock it up to my scatterbrained maritime lifestyle, but I digress.

    Its good to be back, and I hope I can catch up on everything I've missed out on.

    Edit Notes 01/16/2018
    Cleanup of typos, format and the like. no major content change.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 10: Dissonance vs. Harmony
    • Pre-contnent notes in spoiler
    EDIT: This chapter is now COMPLETE! I have taken the feedback I was given, cross-referenced with my ideas and note, and after fighting tooth-and-nail against both my work schedule and my procrastinating habits, I now have a fully armed and operational chapter for your reading pleasure. I'll keep part of my previous intro notes here in the spoiler tag for reference, but that's all it really is.

    EDIT 2 (1/10/2017):
    Cleaned up some sections after review and consideration.

    Also, before you begin reading, I must say that the end of the previous chapter has undergone some major changes. Namely: the final scene has been extended considerably with important content. If you have not already, please go back to the previous chapter and at least catch the newly added content.

    Alright then, here goes.

    Day 22: Tournament Day

    Jolteon stood on the battle floor in front of Peter, facing her opponent with a fierce resolve. The bright yellow Pokémon crouched low in an active stance, and with a hum and crackle of electricity, she began to build up an impressive charge. The tufts of fur across her body danced on end, with sparks snapping and dancing between them, bringing that unmistakable pungent ozone smell of electricity into the air.

    Sitting opposite Jolteon at the far end of the battle floor was a shadowy black Umbreon that hardly moved a muscle. The dark-type simply gazed back at the opposing electric-type through its stoic, blood-red eyes, waiting.

    “Begin!” the referee announced, and Peter issued his first command...

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

    Dissonance vs. Harmony

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

    Day Three: Strategy and Theory.

    Everything ached as Peter made his way toward the charming seaside cafe on the boardwalk that morning. Though he was aware of it, he couldn't quite appreciate the cool salty ocean breeze, nor the slowly awakening activity of the boardwalk. The young man all but ignored the passers-by, one of which was someone out for a morning jog, the mere thought of which made Peter cringe a bit in his limbs.

    The relentless training and drilling Hideki had put him through yesterday had left its mark. Like a brutal hangover for the young man's muscles and joints, his body wanted nothing more than to sit idle and relax, and objected every time Peter forced it to move. And yet move he did, because damned if he was going to miss or neglect the appointment he agreed to this morning with Gregory Voltaire. Thankfully for Peter though, today was supposed to involve more theory-craft and brainstorming than the high-strain movements of Hideki's training.

    Jolteon, for her part, happily trotted along without any apparent care in the world. For every few feet Peter moved, Jolteon darted every which way only to stop and investigate every little object that caught her attention. Only when Peter moved on, and Jolteon saw that he wasn't going to stop for anything, did the little yellow Pokémon follow in his relentless, steady footsteps.

    In a few minutes time, Peter at last make it to the cafe at the end of the boardwalk where Gregory Voltaire was waiting for him, sitting at one of the outdoor tables. The older gentleman opted for a somewhat casual but still smart sweater vest and flat cap look, and was reading from an old leather-bound book when Peter approached. Then Peter noticed that there were two mugs on the table: the one in front of Gregory looked like a kind of tea, whereas the other was a dark coffee, with no cream added...

    “Black with sugar, and a small pinch of salt,” Gregory said to Peter as he closed his book and set down on the table. “That is how typically you take your coffee, correct?”

    That stopped Peter dead in his tracks. That was precisely how Peter Sine took his coffee when he had the option to do so. For a few moments he simply stared, slightly awestruck, eyes bouncing between the coffee mug and the kindly old man who'd provided it. It wasn't until Gregory motioned toward the chair and gently nodded, silently inviting his guest to sit, that Peter finally acted.

    “Thanks...” the young man uttered quietly as he took a seat opposite Gregory, catching a whiff of the coffee. It had a robust, bittersweet smell that appealed to Peter's tastes. “Just out of curiosity, how did you know exactly the way I take my coffee? I mean, I've never met anyone else who adds salt to their coffee, and it always confuses everyone who sees me do it.”

    “Yes,” Gregory said with a nod, “and you would then explain to the intrigued observer that the small amount of salt mutes the coffee's harsh bitter notes, yet still preserves its full flavor and character. To answer your question however: I asked the right people the right questions. In so doing, I came across this information, and could prepare your ideal cup of coffee in advance.”

    While Gregory was explaining his methods, Peter had taken a sip of the coffee itself. It was medium dark roast, with its characteristic toasty taste, yet with very little of its usual harsh bitterness: the trick of the salt. In his own words, Peter said to Gregory, “it's very good.”

    “I'm glad you appreciate it,” Gregory said cordially, and went on to explain, “similarly, when one prepares for an important Pokémon battle or competition, asking the right questions, obtaining pertinent information, and using it to prepare an effective strategy is absolutely paramount to success.”

    “Right, which is why we're here,” Peter said after taking a longer sip of the coffee Gregory provided. It was clear the older man had gone through all this to impress a point on Peter, but he still couldn't help but wonder who Gregory had talked to, since so few people knew about his particular quirks. In any case, it was time to begin, so Peter asked, “how do we start?”

    “What can you tell me about the format of your company's tournament?” Gregory opened, folding his hands together. “Battling style, bracket setup, Pokémon restrictions?”

    “It's one-on-one battles, single elimination, with a single Pokémon per entrant for the entire tournament,” Peter answered.

    “I see,” Gregory replied. “It is a simple, straightforward formula, quite common for these minor community tournaments. It does however present its own challenges...”

    The older man took a moment and observed Jolteon, who seemed to have found the most fascinating empty paper cup in the world, and she proceeded to swipe at it with her paws while chasing it under tables and chairs.

    “In your particular case, Peter, since you shall enter the tournament with Jolteon, an electric type, it would behoove you develop a strategy so that Jolteon is able to reliably confront Ground types, or you shan't advance through the bracket past your first opposing Geodude or Sandshrew. Your thoughts on the matter?”

    The question caught Peter off-guard, as he didn't anticipate being put on the spot so suddenly. Jolteon may have had and astonishingly powerful electrical capacity, but it would mean little against something that was impervious. What else can she do? Still, watching Jolteon buzz through the empty outdoor seating of the cafe, with seemingly boundless energy to draw from, it gave Peter an idea...

    “I know what Jolteon lacks in raw physical power, she makes up for with dizzying speed and agility,” Peter began, half thinking aloud. “I've seen her effortlessly run circles around dangerous Pokémon. As long as Jolteon can stay mobile and dodge incoming attacks, she could use physical attacks like tackle or quick attack to gradually wear her opponent down.”

    Gregory simply listened, and nodded politely as he said, “yes, that is one way...”

    “I think I can feel a 'however' coming on,” Peter guessed.

    The older man raised an eyebrow, and replied, “tell me, exactly how does Jolteon achieve her dizzying speed?”

    “Surge mentioned something about electrically overcharged muscles earlier–” Peter came to an abrupt stop when he began to realize where this was going.

    “If Jolteon can build up some strength, she could use the same means she uses for her fiendishly quick mobility as a means to also deliver swift and powerful kicking blows,” Gregory confirmed.

    Then he reached down and opened the briefcase at his feet, from which he produced a small harness just about the right size for Jolteon. The harness had several small pockets, each with iron weights that could be added or removed to adjust the intensity of the work.

    “Have Jolteon wear this during your commutes to and from Saffron City,” the older gentleman instructed. “Doing so should help her develop strength, as well as boosting her already exceptional agility.”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    Day Five: Dojo Practice

    After another commute to Saffron city, and locking the bike outside, Peter once again entered the through the large, ornate double doors of Saffron City's Fighting Dojo with Jolteon at his heels and a sporty backpack strapped across his shoulders. This time however, Jotleon was wearing the weighted harness Gregory had recommended, and it certainly had an effect on the little electric type. Rather than her usual energetic pluckiness, she walked with slower, heavier footfalls, panting heavily as she plodded along behind her trainer.

    Moments later, they were at the dojo's 'locker room' –the privacy screen and set of lockers– where Peter made his necessary preparations for the day.

    “Don't worry girl, we're here,” Peter reassured the Pokémon between changing and storing his items. “No more running for a while.”

    In response, Jolteon uttered a little groaning whine and flopped down, eyes half-open with her tiredness.

    Once Peter had changed into the training uniform, he unfastened the weighted harness from Jolteon and stashed it in the locker with his normal clothes and backpack. Then he took a Poké ball from the bag, from which Surge's Elekid was quickly released. With the usual pop and flash, the proud little electric-type materialized next to Jolteon, flexing his arms in a futile show of toughness.

    “Could you give her a little power boost?” Peter requested of Elekid, motioning to Jolteon.

    At this, Elekid glanced down at the hapless Eeveelution with a puzzled look. Having seen the situation and hearing his order, Elekid built up a small charge, with some of it arcing between his head-prongs. Then he reached out to Jolteon's prone body with both hands, and discharged into her with a little snap of electricity.

    “Alright guys, let's go,” the young man directed as he turned and began heading back toward the dojo's main floor. “We need to find a practice partner for Elekid–”

    A small series of short whines caught Peter's attention, and Peter found that Jolteon hadn't budged. She instead had her gaze locked on Elekid with her wide-eyed begging face, making the small egg-shaped Pokémon more than a little uncomfortable.

    “You can't stay here, girl,” the young man insisted. “Someone else will need the space soon, and we have places to be, so lets go,”

    Elekid obediently complied with the order, happy to be removed from Joltoen pawing at his feet, and marched alongside Peter. Jolteon on the other hand let out a long whining groan in protest as she watched the others leave.

    “Don't you give me the 'I'm too tired to do anything and need more electricity' act, I'm not falling for it,” Peter grumbled, shaking his head. “Elekid just juiced you up, and you're not even wearing your heavy workout harness anymore. You need to take a real rest, and regenerate your own electricity. You can do it either inside your ball, or outside your ball, and I know you'd rather be out.”

    The young man punctuated this by taking Jolteon's Poké ball and holding it out in front of him. When she saw her ball and understood what was in store, Jolteon turned away, offering a dissatisfied groan as she flopped on her side.

    “We don't have time for this,” Peter grunted, rolling his eyes. “Return–”

    Suddenly Jolteon's ears flicked up as she built a quick charge, and discharged into the Poké ball's capture beam with a hefty crack. The surge of electricity in the beam caused it to sputter out and fail, leaving the intended Pokémon free, scowling up at her trainer.

    “Oh, so you're too tired to move, but not too tired to zap your own ball?” Peter asked as he leaned forward, laying on the sarcasm thick.

    In response, Jolteon turned away and flicked her nose up, offering an indignant little huff.

    “Alright, if that's the way you're going to be about it...” the young man said with a shrug, then turned to the Elekid at his side and motioned toward Jolteon. “If you will do the honors.”

    With an affirmative grunt, Elekid stepped up to Jolteon as he cracked his little knuckles, and scooped her up in his arms. Jolteon squealed and squirmed in protest at the rough handling, snapping off sparks into Elekid as the little egg-shaped Pokémon hauled her off, but to no effect. What pitifully little electricity Jolteon could discharge was easily caught and contained by Elekid, who wasn't bothered by it in the least.

    With the situation more-or-less under control, Peter proceeded with Elekid and Jolteon onto the main floor of the Dojo. Thankfully there was only a brief moment of struggle until Jolteon fully realized the pickle she'd gotten herself into, and resigned to being carried like the child she was behaving like; the child she technically was by all accounts.

    This was all getting complicated, very quickly.

    Hideki made mention of a Pokémon's potential willfulness and undesirable behaviors before, that Peter would have to act as much a parent to Jolteon as a trainer, if not more so, and it was beginning to dawn on him what that actually meant. What should one do when a situation like this arises? How does one correct undesirable behaviors? How much is enough, and when is it too far? Where were those blurry lines between fear, respect, and admiration from the one in your care?

    Soon after moving to the main floor of the dojo, Peter was approached by a familiar face; two actually. There was a young woman with ponytail-bound long brown hair, modest disposition, and a sour-looking Riolu at her side.

    “Hello Peter, welcome back,” Helena Cobalt greeted with a pleasant smile.

    Riolu for his part kept silent, showing little to no visible cues. The smarmy little fighting type did however project a feeling that could be described as 'sarcastic dull surprise', like he didn't expect or didn't want Peter to return.

    “Hey Helena, I'm glad I found you,” Peter said quickly, not really meaning to rush his words, but rush they did. “I need to go see Hideki for a few minutes, is it okay if I leave Elekid and Jolteon with you in the meantime?”

    “Oh, of course,” Helena agreed politely, patting the small blue Pokémon at her side, “Riolu is looking forward to practicing with Elekid again–”

    A muffled thump landed next to Peter, where Elekid hand fallen flat on his back with Joltoen flopped on top. The little egg-shaped Pokémon writhed under the weight, grunting in both surprise and embarrassment. Jolteon simply stretched out and yawned, then casually sauntered off Elekid, apparently quite amused with herself.

    At this, Riolu smacked himself in the forehead and shook his head, emitting a weary groan, ashamed to be made part of this again. Helena herself though giggled lightly at the situation, and knelt down to help Elekid back on his feet.

    “Come on little trooper, let's get you started with some warm-ups,” she encouraged Elekid, who proudly puffed up his little chest, yet impressed nobody.

    “Thanks!” Peter spurted out as he turned and left. “I'll be back to get them as soon as I can!”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    It was time for an evaluation. During his previous visit when his training under Hideki first began, the older martial arts master had prescribed Peter a set of basic movement drills for the Tempered Blade style to practice, which he did, all day long during that first visit. Peter had memorized the sequences, gone through the motions, and had continued to practice the drills when he had the time and energy to do so. A simple demonstration should be passed easily, or so he'd thought...

    “That's enough!” Hideki called out in a firm voice, standing up from his meditative stance.

    Hearing that, Peter came to an awkward fumbling stop in the middle of the sequence he was demonstrating, asking, “what's wrong? I know the sequence, and I'm performing each step.”

    “Merely knowing the sequences you have been tasked to learn is less important than comfort and fluidity of movement,” Hideki corrected curtly. “Your form is sloppy, unrefined, and I will not train you further until these movements have been made seamless.”

    “How can you expect me to master these movements so completely?” Peter protested. “I've only been given a few days to–”

    “A stable building cannot be constructed on an unstable foundation,” the older master declared. “The motions of the Tempered Blade style –the transitions between stances the accompanying actions– must be as smooth and as natural to your body as walking and breathing. Then, and only then, can it can be applied to practical sparring or more complex maneuvers. Would you attempt to learn a song on a new instrument you are not comfortable with?”

    Again with the musical analogies...

    The question did bring to mind Peter's own piano lessons years ago. It had taken months of daily practice, contorting his hands into the then uncomfortable and unnatural positions to produce the scales, arpeggios, and chords before he could so much as play a simple tune. In this respect at least, martial arts wasn't too much different from a kind of music: the body was the instrument, and the form was the song to be played. Thus, Peter was obliged to respect the tedium and precision that training demanded.

    “You're right,” the young man admitted, bowing slightly in a customary gesture of humility. “I still have a lot to practice, but what exactly can I do to help myself?” Peter asked, still unsure.

    “You have just done it: you've asked the question,” the older master said firmly, but with a small knowing smile on his face. “There is an entire dojo's worth of students all around you at your disposal, each with vastly varied techniques to their name, and equally varied methods of practicing them. Self-reliance is a worthy virtue, but so too is knowing when to seek the counsel of others...”

    Peter bit his lip, stopped himself rolling his eyes, and politely listened to Hideki lecture on about the value of seeking help from others. It was sensible advice, but advise Peter had heard countless times before from countless other sources. He'd asked for something specific, and the young young man wanted nothing more than a prompt and specific answer, not another clichéd rambling on common-sense concepts.

    When Peter could get a word in, hopefully without seeming rude, he interjected, “that's all well and good, but can we get back to my form, and what I could do to improve it?”

    With a nod and a moment of consideration, Hideki obliged, but not without giving Peter a keen, careful look, “I did notice your breathing was not synchronized with the movements of the form, and would contribute to the uneasiness of your current form...”

    The older Kantonian stepped in front of his student, assumed one of the stances of Tempered Blade, and demonstrated as he explained, “Notice how when I prepare an action, I inhale, and when executed, I exhale quickly,” then Hideki performed a series of attacks interspersed with defensive maneuvers, with slightly exaggerated breaths to emphasize his critique and advice.

    “Some will also voice the explosive exhalation with a Kiai as they act,” the master added, and did just that, shouting with his next actions, “Ha! Kiyah!”

    Once the ringing in his ears from Hideki's sudden shouts faded, Peter asked a follow-up, “and just adjusting my breathing to my actions will improve the form?”

    The older master came out of the form with a slight but sly expression, one that suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

    “Use that keen technical mind of yours: think of both the whole and its component parts,” he began, in an apparently less condescending tone than when he rehashed old ideas before. It made Peter wonder for a moment if Hideki was trying other approaches to teaching. “Martial arts is a full body experience. You may scoff at the lofty poetry that often describes it, at the lingering traces of spiritualism in reference to Auras and similar concepts, but you cannot escape the reality that one's body is, at its most basic core, a machine. Any machine –trainers and their Pokémon teams, a band playing music together, the complex system of springs and gears inside a clock, and even one's body practicing a martial arts form– will operate all the more effectively when all parts are at their best, and properly coordinated to work together.

    “Coordination of breath with action is but one major way I can see to improve your form. What other components of your machinery can you think to optimize?” Hedeki posited with an air of conclusion. “Go, and think on it as you practice.”

    “I'll see what I can do,” the younger student said with a nod, and began to leave.


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    After that reality check, Peter Sine found himself a quiet corner of the dojo, did a few quick stretches and warm-ups, and went over the movement drills of Tempered Blade once again. This time he did so with an emphasis on coordinating breath with action, as Hideki suggested. If he went through the motions a little more, made them that much more familiar, he could smooth over the movements and satisfy Hideki's demand for fluidity of motion.

    Think of the component parts: both separate and whole...

    As he had practiced and become familiar with the style and its stances, what Peter came to realize was that the stances all, in one form or another, prepared the practitioner's body to act. It wasn't the stances themselves that were the core of the style, it was the movement between them and the actions taken from them. Practically any action performed while in any of the style's core stances will naturally flow into another stance, in-turn readying the practitioner for another action. In this way, the flow of the style's footwork meant that most actions can be made to advance, or retreat, or sidestep. Thus the style had many aggressive 'advancing defense' actions to intercept and destabilize an opposing attacker's blows, as well as 'retreating attack' actions that may be used to disengage from very close quarters.

    It wasn't covered in these particular drills, but Peter also began to see how grappling techniques could be incorporated: simply replace some of the striking blows with grapples, use the style's footwork, and an opponent could find themselves in a tangled situation. In fact, it was quite likely an overall concept of Tempered Blade. Just as Hideki encouraged Peter to find his own method of practice, the style itself from the ground up felt incredibly receptive to new ideas and new actions. Rather than the technique or style influencing the practitioner, the Tempered Blade style practically invited the practitioner to experiment, to explore new ways of moving, and to add nearly any technique to its repertoire–

    “Peter?” Helena's voice asked quietly from nearby.

    He nearly stumbled and fell over when he heard his name, caught off-guard in the middle of an advancing defense and strike combination. Once Peter got his feet back underneath him, he swung around to find Helena standing there, with a touch of concern in her worried face and in her words.

    “Are you alright?” she asked. “You've been here by yourself for quite a while.”

    “Jolteon and Elekid, right!” Peter realized with a start, smacking himself in the head. “Gosh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean–”

    “It's alright, they're doing just fine,” Helena reassured him. “Elekid's technique has improved quite a bit since the last time he was here, Riolu has to put in a lot more effort now. What about you though? How did your meet with Hideki go?”

    “I'm... getting there,” the young man admitted, trying to mask his frustration. “I just can't seem to get the motions quite right, and my stance feels a little tipsy and off-balance, 'sloppy' and 'unrefined' as Hideki put it. I'm pretty sure it's just because I'm not all that familiar with the style yet, and it should settle in with more practice.”

    “True, it does take time to learn the forms, but there are things that can help you, or hinder you,” Helena said with a nod and some thought. Then something must have occurred to her, as she added, “I wonder...”

    The young woman walked around Peter for a bit, examining him a little closer than he was expecting.

    “Could you lie face-down and relax for me, please?” Helena requested. “I want to try something.”

    “Okay?” Peter uttered –unsure, but also curious– and did as Helena had kindly asked. A moment later he lay face down on the reinforced tatami mat floor of the dojo under Helena.

    Then without any warning, he felt a pair of gentle hands on his back. Peter nearly shuddered at the surprise of it, but quickly controlled himself. That's when he realized that Helena was feeling, exploring, prodding, examining through touch.

    “Ah! I thought so,” Helena said with a bit of satisfaction, then filled Peter in on her discovery. “Your muscles are all quite tense: I can feel knots everywhere, especially in your shoulders and lower back.”

    “What, really?” Peter said, a little taken aback. “But I don't feel much soreness or anything there.”

    “And when exactly was the last time you had even a halfway a decent massage?” Helena then asked in a prying tone.

    “I... um...” he mumbled, stopping to think about that question, and then had to say, “I'm not actually sure.”

    “Oh, this will be great practice! Don't move please,” the young woman declared with a sudden, disconcerting enthusiasm. “Riolu!”

    A few moments later, the little blue fighting type padded alongside Peter's prone form. He cocked his head to the side with a bit of confused curiosity, a feeling that Peter himself found himself mirroring. What use could that little smug-bucket possibly have here?

    Then Helena directed Riolu down to Peter's broad back, instructing, “Okay Riolu, feel all the knots in his muscles, see if you can feel how it creates tension, and disrupts his Aura.”

    A flash of worry jumped up at Peter as he felt a pair of tiny paws on his back now, feeling and examining much like Helena did before. Even more worryingly though, he sensed the sly glee of mischief swell up in Riolu's mind...

    “Now, use your Aura to relieve some of the knots...” Helena directed.

    Having a pretty good idea what the little brat had planned, Peter quickly formed an threatening thought,“Don't you dare–”

    A spike of stabbing agony suddenly shot up the young man's back, causing him to cringe and grimace, barely holding in a grunt of pain through his barred teeth. Riolu on the other hand was practically laughing in Peter's mind at his pain.

    “Careful Riolu!” Helena cried out, suddenly flustered, “I'm so sorry Peter! I'll fix this!”

    “It's okay, I'll be fine, mistakes happen,” the young man said with strained, forced politeness. “It'll take more than a little wayward Aura or whatever to take me out.”

    Peter instead directed his rage and anger into a thought for Riolu, “I swear, if Helena weren't here, I'd wring your little neck until the Aura popped right out of your eyeballs!”

    The feeling Riolu sent back in return was a disgusting little thing: something like teasing, or sticking out his tongue, 'amused disrespect'. Peter couldn't retaliate from this compromising position, and the little troublemaker knew it, and he relished in the opportunity.

    “Lets try that again, Riolu,” Helena instructed, “but this time, only use a little bit of Aura.”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

    And there it is!

    As always, I appreciate any feedback anyone has to give. I'd also like to offer a big thank you to those who have nominated and voted this story into the winter awards this season. I will continue to strive for my work be what I feel it can be.

    Edit Notes 01/16/2018
    Cleaned up formatting/grammar/spelling oddities. Also slimmed down the description of Peter's practice.
     
    Last edited:
    • Ch 11: Tension, Progression, Resolution.
    • Day Seven: Rest

    Peter first took a brief moment to collect himself, set his hands on the piano keyboard, and played a single note. As the tone rang out in his ears, the young man pictured the waveform in his mind: mainly a simple sine wave, flowing in even, gentle peaks and troughs oscillating at 220 Hz, 220 cycles per second. He pictured its place on a written music staff as well, 'Middle C' as it was called in the usual musical vernacular, one of the very first notes taught to those learning music.

    One note cannot stand alone.

    He played another note with the first, and a third. Like the lone note before, Peter pictured the music staff with relevant notation, and visualized the resulting waveform, but more importantly, Peter listened. Written music and graphic waveform were merely tools to represent visually what was ultimately an auditory experience. So instead, he listened to the trio of tones, carefully parsed out how each note interacted with the other two simultaneously, how they reinforced and strengthened each other.

    They were stable together, a sturdy foundation, but still it was only a static chord, with no movement or progression, lifeless.

    That's when Peter introduced a fourth tone to the mix, which caused tension, and grated against the stable harmony. Even in the visualizations in his mind this was apparent: the notes were crowded uncomfortably close on the music staff notation, and the uniform waveform became an erratic mess. Now was the interesting part, what to do about all this unpleasant tension?

    What indeed?

    To this end, Peter simply let go of any apprehension or doubt, and let his hands wander the keyboard. It was at once as simple as it seemed, and also fiendishly more complex. The young man's ear was trained, practiced, familiar with an extensive array of tone combinations. His hands and reflexes knew their way around the keyboard itself, knew where to find the notes that could created dissonances as well as build harmonies. That's not to say every note and chord that emerged was perfect, quite the contrary actually: to an unassuming listener, what Peter was creating seemed to be merely a disorganized hodgepodge of tones.

    Yet all the while, he listened.

    He listened carefully to what emerged from the aimless jumble: listened for interesting sets of harmonies, or an intriguing string of notes. When Peter's wandering fingers came up with something, he made a mental note of what it was exactly, examined it, put it to musical notation in his mind, and experimented with it. He played the harmonies, shuffled their individual tones around, bounced around them, wandered a bit off course to see if there was anything else interesting nearby, and–

    “Are you finding everything alright?” a polite voice asked, and Peter nearly jumped up off the simple piano bench when he heard the sales associate.

    Now out of that trance-like state, the young man settled back into an awareness of his immediate surroundings. Peter Sine was in a music store in Vermilion City, sitting at one of the high-end electric keyboards that were set out on display. Jolteon was there with him, sitting next to Peter's knee, with her head cocked a bit to the side in an expression of curiosity and interest. Off to his side was the stylishly unkempt sales representative who was working the store when Peter came in.

    “Oh, um, yes,” Peter uttered while he put on a polite smile for the store employee, who was only trying to do a job, “just doodling around the keyboard.”

    “It sounded pretty good to me.”

    “Thanks,” the young man responded humbly. He was only fooling around a bit, and didn't even mean to go so far in-depth.


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

    Tension, Progression, Resolution

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


    Day Twelve: Battle Practice

    In the Saffron City Fighting Dojo, Elekid and Jolteon practiced against each other, but only with direct physical attacks, no electric techniques, since their training here was meant to develop their close-quarters capabilities. They had been at it for a few hours now, while Peter monitored their practice, and he saw that Gregory's suggested weight and endurance training for Jolteon was paying off. Even after hours of rigorous practice, Jolteon was still keeping up with Elekid at every step.

    As expected, Jolteon's superb agility and mobility gave her an edge against Elekid, but only as far as footwork and positioning. Though she could get many attacks in, and in quick succession, Jolteon wasn't able to land any decisive blow against her training partner. Elekid simply endured the flurry of light hits, and struck back. Though Jolteon could dodge and evade most of the strikes set against her, when Elekid did finally land a hit, it hit her hard.

    Just then, Jolteon yelped in surprise and discomfort as one of Elekid's counterattacks struck home, knocking her off her feet and onto the floor of the practice room.

    “Alright you two, that's enough for now,” Peter called out to them. “Time for a break.”

    Responding to Peter's instruction, Elekid breathed a sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his forehead as he found a place to rest. Jolteon shook herself to her senses as she got to her feet, giving a snort of frustration. Though not exhausted, Jolteon was clearly worn down by the practice, panting heavily as she padded toward Peter. The young man stroked the weary Pokémon behind her ears to comfort her, and gave her a small battery to help recharge. Jolteon simply laid down at Peter's feet, battery in her paws, with barely any response.

    “Hmm...” Peter uttered, unsettled by Jolteon's bizarrely mute reaction. He needed to figure out something, hopefully sooner rather than later.

    Gregory's suggested training with the weighted harness had developed Jolteon's strength and endurance, but it hadn't yet helped with her technique. Elekid was able to endure the best strikes she had without much effort. If Jolteon was going to do well in the upcoming tournament, she'd need technique as much speed. Attacking head-on, however quickly Jolteon could do it, wasn't going to cut it.

    For the time being, while the Pokémon rested, Peter Sine took a moment to observe some of the others around the practice room. Like himself with Jolteon and Elekid, several other Pokémon sparred against one another as they were watched by their trainers, but not as many as expected. The large practice space had almost emptied at the moment, and Peter soon saw why.

    A small crowd had gathered around an ongoing sparring match nearby, occasionally whooping in delight and excitement. The wall of bodies between Peter and the bout masked the details of the scene, for now. Curious, the young man approached the minor spectacle, moving between and around a few of the other students to see what all the hubbub was about. Then he saw it: a sparring match.

    On one side of the fight was a fierce Poliwrath, puffing out its chest and showing off the spiral pattern on its torso. Behind the stalwart water type was a large, boisterous man wearing the dojo's training uniform, but also a curious mask with jagged white ridges across his head.

    “Careful now Poliwrath!” the large masked man hollered, nearly giddy with excitement. “Your opponent may be small, but makes up for it with pure distilled determination!”

    The aforementioned opponent, as it turned out, was Helena's Riolu. The little blue fighting type stood opposite Poliwrath in an active stance, glowering at his opponent with fire in his eyes, seething with a tenacity that Peter might even consider rage. Helena herself stood fast behind Riolu, keeping her eyes on her opponent.

    “Steady as it goes, Riolu,” Helena stated calmly. “Wait for just the right moment–”

    “Wait no more! The time is now!” bellowed the large man as he struck a grand pose. “Pour down the beat-down with all your might, Poliwrath!”

    Poliwrath followed the command and lunged at Helena's Riolu. Riolu though lunged right back, howling with sheer ferocity as he darted toward his opponent. From where Peter stood, it looked absolutely comical, how this jumped-up little tyke of a Pokémon was intent on meeting a Poliwrath more than twice his size head-on. Helena's Riolu was pretty good, granted, but not that good–

    In an instant, the two fighting Pokémon met, but it wasn't the horrendously one-sided clash Peter was expecting. At the last possible moment, Riolu had tweaked his course and positioning just to the side of and beneath the charging Poliwrath's center of mass. In a whirl of movement too quick to be seen clearly, Poliwrath was flung to the ground at Riolu's feet in mighty thump, followed by astonished gasps and excited cheers from the onlookers.

    For a few moments, Helena's Riolu drank in the attention and basked in his pride. The little blue fighting type stood triumphant over the toppled foe, turning his nose up with a gleeful smirk. Helena's own reaction was subtle: a small surprised smile. Possibly she felt embarrassed by her Riolu's showy behavior.

    The large masked man however seemed to be having the time of his life, as his booming voice cut through the moment with a hearty laugh, saying, “I hate to rain on a good parade, but we're not all dried up yet!”

    Then it happened.

    While still face-down and prone, Poliwrath spun its stocky body around on its arms, crashing into Riolu's legs. With a startled yelp, the smaller Pokémon toppled down as his legs were swept out from unde him, and he landed in the waiting arms of Poliwrath. In mere moments, Riolu was caught in a tight submission hold. No matter how he squirmed, no matter how he thrashed and fought with every desperate ounce of resolve, Poliwrath held firm. With his arms pinned and legs splayed away, all Helena's hapless Riolu could do was snarl and howl with rage against his foe's hold.

    At that moment, Helena rushed to her Pokémon's side, crying out, “that's enough!”

    Riolu barked back at her with defiance, still struggling against his opponent's hold, as if to assure Helena that he could still win this. Yet the more he twisted and writhed, the more Poliwrath tightened the grip, and Riolu let out a painful wail as his joints were strained even more.

    Then Helena turned to the large masked man, offering him a small humble bow as she said, “Mr. Wake, I concede defeat, even if Riolu won't. I'm so sorry for my Pokémon's stubborn behavior.”

    “No apology needed, water under the bridge, but if I may have a moment with Riolu?” Mr. Wake asked, motioning toward the two still-grappling Pokémon with an open hand.

    Helena looked at the scene a moment, then back to Mr. Wake, and with a nod answered, “alright.”

    The large masked man stepped in front of his Poliwrath and Helena's Riolu, still caught in a helpless grapple, and ordered, “let him go.”

    And just like that, the Poliwrath released the little blue fighting type and stepped away. Riolu was left laying on the floor panting for breath. He still glared and snarled at Poliwrath, until the great imposing figure of Mr. Wake knelt down to his level.

    “It's not easy to admit defeat, especially in front of such a lively audience,” the large man said, making a broad gesture all around to the now conspicuously quiet onlookers. Then he held out a hand to Riolu, saying, “but you don't need to be ashamed by defeat.”

    The little blue Pokémon stared at Mr. Wake's hand for a few moments with a perplexed look. At the same time the space went quiet, as all gathered watched with bated breath to see what would happen next.

    After a few stretched-out moments of consideration, Riolu cautiously reached a paw out to the man as he got to his feet. Yet at the moment he took Mr. Wake's hand, the large man quickly hoisted the little blue Pokémon up and onto his shoulder. Before Riolu could protest, or even express his surprise beyond widened eyes, the masked man was already taking center stage.

    “Let's hear it for Riolu!” Mr. Wake boldly proclaimed. “What a fighter!”

    To which the audience replied with a chorus of congratulatory whoops and cheers. Even Peter himself found he was contributing to the hearty applause as he clapped his hands. After a brief moment of this, the applause settled down to an excited murmur, and Helena's Riolu was likewise returned to solid ground.

    Peter moved through the gradually dispersing group to where Helena and Mr. Wake were, and came across a curious scene. Three of the dojo's students had approached the large masked man, offered a polite bow, and then spoke in perfect unison, “Crasher Wake sir, we humbly request to challenge you.”

    “Already?” Crasher Wake replied with a lively chortle. “Poliwrath ought to have a good rest before another battle, don't you think?”

    “Not a Pokémon battle, Crasher Wake sir,” one of the challengers corrected. “We wish to fight against you. ”

    “Ha! In that case I'm happy to stir up a few rounds! Who wants to go first!?”

    Then Mr. Wake swaggered his way out of this training room, with the posse of eager students at his heels. One by one, the rest of the students dispersed as well, some of them following the spectacle to where it would show next. It wasn't long until Peter and Helena were left more or less alone with their Pokémon in the training room, away from the gaggle of dojo students so enamored by the weird masked man.

    “Who was that, exactly?” Peter asked now that he had the chance to do so in relative privacy.

    “Him? That was Crasher Wake: a gym leader visiting from Sinnoh." Helena answered, "When Riolu saw him training, he just ran right up to Mr. Wake's Poliwrath and tried to pick a fight right there and then. Crasher Wake, being the um, splashy sportsman that he is, laughed it off and indulged Riolu, which brings us to now,” Helena explained, and switched to a mild scolding tone as she turned toward her Riolu, “and I hope you learned something from all this, mister: you can't just go and challenge everyone willy-nilly all the time and expect not to lose sometimes.”

    Riolu for his part had turned away with arms folded in a kind of begrudging pout, even now too proud to concede. However, out of all this, an idea emerged...

    “Actually, I thought it was pretty impressive how Riolu handled Poliwrath with that throw,” Peter said, moving to Riolu's side, directing his next words to the Pokémon as much as Helena. “Is there any chance Jolteon could be taught something similar?”

    At this thought, both Helena and Riolu looked at each other, and turned toward Elekid with a hard, scrutinizing look. In response, Elekid took a small step back as a worried look overtook his small face.

    “Elekid, we need your help,” Helena said in an encouraging a tone as she knelt down to his level. “Can we count on you to be a tough little trooper?”

    Upon hearing this, the look of worry on Elekid's face became one of utter, wide-eyed terror. He frantically glanced between Helena, Riolu, Peter, and Jolteon, but found no escape in any of them. Under Helena's gentle gaze and earnest request, the little electric-type summoned the courage necessary, then gave a perilous nod.

    “Thank you Elekid!” Helena said as she gave the Pokémon a grateful embrace. “Now lets get started!”

    From this point, Helena assembled a quick impromptu training session between Riolu, Elekid and Jolteon. Riolu acted as an 'instructor' to Jolteon, demonstrating and teaching the mechanics of the throw, while Elekid acted as the assistant and 'living practice dummy'. Though the motions of Riolu's throw couldn't translate exactly for Jolteon and her quadruped configuration, similar principles could be applied. In this way, rather than meeting force head-on, Jolteon could utilize her speed and agility to attain superior positioning, and use the force of her opponent against them.

    “I can't believe I didn't think of this before,” Peter uttered once the Pokémon settled into their routine, “it makes so much sense, and somehow it didn't occur to me.”

    “We all could use a little inspiration once in a while, or an extra set of eyes, or second opinion,” Helena reassured as she watched the three Pokémon practice. “Some things just can't be done alone, or at the very least shouldn't be.”

    Alone: that's how Peter had lived most of his life, and he'd been content with solitude in that time. It was peaceful, predictable, controllable. So much hand changed now, and he was far out of his element. This, right now, was a chance for Peter to not be alone for all this craziness, to at least have some support. Easy enough, right? Just ask the question, Helena was right here.

    Then again, it had been a long time since Peter last tried this, and it didn't go well at all. He shuddered as he recalled just how horribly that last foray went, silently cursing his own awkward faults. Suddenly this stopped being a good idea. It was a ticking time bomb of sorts, and he'd volunteered himself to disarm it. Frankly he'd prefer his chances with an actual bomb; those had wires, and Peter Sine was comfortable with wires–

    Oh come on! Of all the things to be afraid of or worried about, this had to be the absolute least dangerous or troublesome. This was how an ignorant, self-absorbed teen behaved, and was unbecoming for someone beyond all that. It's just conversation, make the words and say them already!

    “Well, speaking of things that shouldn't be done alone,” that's just great, he couldn't have opened with a more corny line if he went to a farm. No backing down now, time to finish what he started, “I'm going to enter a tournament in about a week with Jolteon, and I'd like some company for it. Would you like to join me?”

    There, it was done, and as far as Peter was concerned, he couldn't have botched that up any harder if he tried. He held his breath, and braced himself for the variety of polite, roundabout phrases that would all equate to a 'no'. He must have seemed like a damned fool to her, and he couldn't blame her for declining–

    “You're not putting Jolteon through too much strain and stress for this tournament, are you?” Helena asked with a suspicious undertone. “Fierce competition just isn't healthy for such a young Pokémon, especially if she has problems controlling her power.”

    “No, not at all, it's nothing too intense! The tournament is just a small time thing the company I work for does,” Peter answered quickly, “more importantly though, it gives something for me and Jolteon to work toward. My thinking is, if we do well there, then I know we'll be great partners for whatever lies ahead for us.”

    Was that good, or bad? As if it wasn't already weird enough, now Peter was left hanging, blindsided by prying questions instead of a simple 'yes' or 'no'. Could this farce just be over and done with already, please?

    “Well there's just no way for me to know that for sure from your word alone,” Helena huffed, and placed her hands on her hips, “I suppose I'll just have to come and see this tournament for myself.”

    “So, that's a 'yes', isn't it?”


    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​


    Special thanks to these fine folks for their help in The Samples Thread, without whom some key points wouldn't be nearly as interesting to read.
    @diamondpearl876
    @AceTrainer14
    @Beth Pavell

    Thank you for sticking with it this far, and as always, your feedback is most welcome.

    Edit Notes 01/16/2018:
    Cleaned up formatting/grammar/spelling and the like. Minor tweaks to narration voice. little/no content change.
     
    Last edited:

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