Pokemon Goals

[LordCowCow 840]

[radio414 907]

All little Timmy Bobbysoxer knew was war.

Oh, sure, he "knew" other things, like how to count to a thousand or how to make little Scorbunny ears with his shoelaces and so he wouldn't trip on them, but any time he tried to learn anything more, his thoughts would drift off to reminisce about his heroes. People like Oichi or Hideyoshi, even Nobunaga if he was in the right kind of mood, these were his people, even more than the kids at the playground who said they were totally into war, but when Timmy asked them what Pokémon was linked to the great warlord who had united the kingdom of Ransei, all they ever said was "what?" or "you made that place up."

It was Eevee. True war historians would have known that.

Timmy was a fan of Pokémon battling, too (who wasn't?), though it wasn't for the same reasons as everyone else, as far as he knew. It seemed to Timmy that to everyone else, a Pokémon battle was to demonstrate a trainer's bond with their Pokémon. That was what everyone said on TV, anyway. And Timmy could easily imagine caring about those same qualities. What he wanted, though, more than anything else, was the glory.

Oh, to win a Pokémon battle! The stakes didn't matter to Timmy; even the mildest of confrontations would do. But the idea of winning, the idea of being congratulated by an opponent, when he closed his eyes he could almost see it happening right in front of him.

All this (and more, but mostly this) was why, when Timmy Bobbysoxer turned ten years old, when the local Pokémon Professor announce they were giving out 'Dexes and Pokémon, he jumped at the call and ran all the way to the lab, just to get in line. He didn't even think about which specific Pokémon he wanted, he just knew that he had to have one.

The line was already tremendous when Timmy got there. To his young eyes, it must have been a mile long. And yet, the Professor seemed to have just the perfect Pokémon for each child who approached. Kids who dug around in the dirt got Onixes and Geodudes. The twins who refused to leave each other's sides were handed a Plusle and a Minun. As the line slowly shrank and Timmy was able to get closer to the Pokémon left available, one immediately caught his eye.

It was an Eevee.

Of course! Who didn't know about his fascination? The Professor certainly would have known, and gone out and found just the right Eevee for him. It all made sense. Everything in Timmy's life up to that point made sense.

Which was why, when Timmy's turn finally came and the Professor gave him a Pikachu along with his Pokédex and a few starting Pokéballs, while the kid behind him (the obe who was always indecisive and a bit boring) they got that coveted Eevee, Timmy was crushed. He tried not to let it show, after all, he hadn't even known it was an option until he was already in line, but deep down, he knew his disappointment was there for all to see.

What good was a Pikachu anyway? Sure, Timmy had heard of Pikachu that could surf or could wrestle or race faster than any other Pokémon, but none of that was useful to Timmy. An Eevee could be anything. A Pikachu was just an electric rat.

It would be no surprise to anyone, then, that Timmy Bobbysoxer's first Pokémon battle was against that dirty, stinking kid who'd taken his Eevee. The battle was as fierce as endless volleys of thundershocks and tackles could be, but it was Timmy and his Pikachu who came out on top.

But then something Timmy was never able to explain happened. Or, to be more specific, nothing happened at all. His opponent just gathered up their fainted Pokémon and disappeared into the crowd of onlookers. They didn't even pay for Timmy's victory; the Professor had to do that after the fact. And worst of all, Timmy didn't feel anything. There was no glory in what had happened. Even the onlookers, who had politely clapped when it was all over, had already started to disperse.

Timmy Bobbysoxer is still chasing victory. Sure, he has won many Pokémon battles, but he's never quite achieved that sense of elation that he's looking for. The idea of that feeling grows stronger by the day, too. The bigger his accomplishment, the bigger his inevitable disappointment becomes. It's become almost too much to bear.

And Timmy's never seen that Eevee kid again. He wants to. He wants to make the Eevee kid apologise from taking his glorious moment away from him. But even though he gets glimpses out of the corner of his eye, even though he'll occasionally hear an Eevee happily cry out after it's trainer, whenever he looks, he never sees anyone or any Pokémon of the sort.

(oc dont steal)

Edited February 24, 2020 by radio414

[Summer Damian 16]

That is... the best post ever.

I like how you wrote from the perspective of someone who doesn't care about the things that the world emphasizes about battles. It reminds me of gamers who, say, play Pokémon to win the Pokémon contests. The irony of the protagonist not getting the Pokémon he thought he deserved, but rather the starter that everyone liked, really helped enhance this contrast between Tommy and the rest of the Pokémon world.