PokèDruids [PkmnWattys2016]

No More

"A Bidoof? You gave me a Bidoof!?" Needless to say, Pepe was furious. His starter Pokemon was a dumb bastard, and nothing could change that. No amount of training or studying could allow a Bidoof to become great or powerful. No one even dared to carry one around, unless they did so because no one else was idiotic enough to carry one. Even a Bidoof knows its existence in that form forever marks it as unlikeable. The professor wasn't exempt from this belief either, but had reasoning to make Pepe keep such a disappointment.

"Now, Juan-"

"I'm still Pepe."

"- There's no reason to complain about receiving a Bidoof. I'm giving you a 100 kilopoke (1 kilopoke= 1000 poke, duh) gift, and this is how you act? You should be more grateful- You don't even have to fill out a pokedex!"

Pepe looked down in an awkward shame, realizing just how inappropriate he had been acting in the face of such a generous gift. A generous, half arsed, selfless and thoughtless gift. "But... I mean, a Bidoof? Instead of, you know, anything else?"

"It's all we can do to help the overpopulation. Come on, you've had your show and free starter. Get going on an adventure somewhere." And with that, the creature was recalled into its ball.

Pepe was frustrated at this conclusion, but had no reasonable way to respond to this. He walked briskly through the door, leaving the professor to his work, which consisted of infinitesimal improvements to the existing design of the pokeball or improving the vast codex of Pokemon, going beyond the simple species and classification of the creatures and into common genetic structure, as well as the special genes that make them powerful or weak or giving the long-sought off-color gene.

As he walked out of the complex, Hank came to the immediate front of Pepe and inquired, "Whaddya get?"

"You aren't going to believe me."

"What, was it a Charimander!?" A subtle shake denied this. "Oh, a Bidoof?" A nod. "...Really? I... Wow. Uh... I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I was going to release it anyhow. Don't worry." As if it was intended to be felt, Pepe felt the subtle smile of a green-cloaked woman from somewhere unseen.

"Dude, give it a shot. At least let it battle once."

"Fine."

"And hey, if you like it and it likes you, you just might keep it. This is a serious opportunity."

"Well... If it wants to." Another feeling similar to the one before fell upon Pepe, but more malicious and eager, in the smallest of change in aura.

"See? It's not that bad when you think about it." As the two headed off towards their homes, Hank caught a glimpse of the old "Poke'cad". "Remember when we where younger? Those were good times."

No one really thinks much of the academy. It was a host to a weak liberal arts program along side whatever they felt like teaching about Pokemon. The classes there were meant to advocate the mutual and equal relationships between Pokemon and humans. Classes covered topics from how a Pecha berry could cure poison and a Chesto berry somehow caused a Pokemon to wake up in battle in the first grade. Second grade, trainers learn how to run from and defend against a Pokemon attack. Third, legends of the wars between Pokemon and humans were observed, and it was learned that no one wanted war, and that Pokemon had savagery and magic in their hands, and nearly killed off all of the humans in a far land called Utopia. In the fourth grade, the end of the war was taught, about how humans created a weapon that would remove Pokemon from the island eternally and used it against them, and how soon after the land suddenly disappeared, all only 200 years ago. In the fifth grade, before focusing solely on liberal arts, simple first aid was taught for caring for Pokemon, and no one left without having drilled into your stupid little head that if a Pokemon died, it's YOUR fault and no one else is to blame, even if the thing committed suicide. Which is weird, because that's what both Pepe and Hank wanted to do every day in that class.