S: Yours truly. Just 'cause.
T: Who else? Thierry Blackwell.
B: Basil, too.
S: Okay... it's not often somebody interviews a wild Pokemon, for obvious reasons. Luckily for us, Thierry is a pretty reasonable guy, so he agreed to this interview rather than, y'know, clawing my face off. We've arranged for an Alakazam to act as translator, so... here's hoping this goes off without a hitch. First of all, thanks for agreeing to this, Thierry.
T: No trouble. It's not like I really had a choice, considering that I am your character and all.
B: Hey. Thierry. Mind the fourth wall.
T: Right. Statement redacted.
S: Actually, the fourth wall pretty much caved in the moment this interview began. So... I couldn't help noticing you have a name.
T: That's very perceptive of you.
S: ...Right. It's a little unusual for Pokemon to have names, though, especially surnames. Care to shed some light on that?
T: Gladly. The name Thierry means something along the lines of "ruler of the people." Which doesn't apply to me in the slightest. Unless we count this interview, I have never had contact with people before, and I don't rule over any territory at all.
B: Except for our cave.
T: Really, my name is meant to be a play on theory, though it isn't actually pronounced that way. It's sort of like saying Terry while faking a bad accent. Tyair-ee.
B: Tee-airy. Thierry. Rhymes with fairy.
T: Thank you, Basil, that will do. *ahem* My surname--the "black" part of it, anyway--is a tribute of sorts to film noir. Noir is French for black. The "well" part of it was mostly because Thierry Black sounded too cheesy, and... I don't know, I do my job very well? Whatever you were thinking at the time. You really fancy yourself clever, don't you?
S: That I do. So what about everyone else in Central Square?
T: They don't think you're that clever either.
S: Not what I meant.
T: Oh, right. Well, Basil's name came from Basicladus, which is a genus name for a kind of moth. Bagworms or Carolina somethings or... whatever they are. All of the members of Team Deceivers have names that relate in some way to trickery. Rook is a slang term for a swindler or cheater, Chichane is derived from chichanery, and Jazz is also slang for insincerity.
Gypsy's name is a play on gyp, which is a term for ripoff and therefore fits with the Deceiver theme. Firebrand, by definition, is either something that's on fire, or somebody who stirs up trouble, kindles revolts, that sort of thing. Possibly both. Quid... well, quid nunc is Latin for "what now," and quid could also refer that old term for a British pound, which fits with his role of informer. Stool pidgeon. Whatever Quid is.
B: You... you don't actually pay Quid to talk, Thierry, do you?
T: That would be like paying a Spoink to bounce, Basil.
B: Oh, wait. What about Hemlock and Neiro? We're forgetting them!
T: Hemlock... basically, a poisonous plant. Neiro comes from oneiro, the Greek word for dream. The less said about those two, the better.
S: Amen to that. But as fascinating as it is to hear about the meaning behind the names, that still doesn't explain why wild animals have names.
T: Wild animals? I resent that.
B: Resent? Did you already send it once? And why would you be mailing wild animals, anyway? Pelipper won't like that.
T: Basil... never mind. It's true that in human-inhabited areas and isolated communities, most wild Pokemon won't have names. Some do, but their kind take names as deeply personal things that are only to be shared with those very close to you. Amongst Pokemon, it's perfectly acceptible to call another Pokemon by their species name. In terms of formality, it's somewhere between being on a last-name basis with somebody and calling them "hey, kid." Many of the Pokemon in Central Square do have names, if only because of the high population. It's a little annoying to go by "Pikachu" when there are twenty other Pikachus in the neighbourhood. Last names are a strictly northern tradition, though. Probably because the north is even more crowded than the south.
S: Yeah, about that... explain to me exactly where you live. I mean... I played Blue Rescue Team a while ago, and I don't quite remember some of the stuff you described in the story.
T: Ugh... those silly games of yours have about as much in common with my world as a Nidoran does with a Heatran. There might be some similarities at a glance, but that's it. I live on an uncharted island, sort of an independent nation, if you will. If you dig through our history textbooks, then you'll see the land referred to as Arcadia, but nobody actually calls it that these days. No real need for a name. Most of the population lives up north, where I hail from. There are a few places of interest, but the only one you really need to know about now is Frostview, the largest city on the island. Down in the southern half of the island is Central Square, which is neither central nor a square. There are other noteworthy places in the southern end, too, but I'll save the geography lesson for another time.
B: There was a real big gold rush up north years ago, which is why the north got so crowded. Even if the weather is real ugly up there. And, uh... for what it's worth? I looked at an atlas this one time, and I'm pretty sure we're to the east of the place where that famous Go-Getters team lives.
T: Who else? Thierry Blackwell.
B: Basil, too.
S: Okay... it's not often somebody interviews a wild Pokemon, for obvious reasons. Luckily for us, Thierry is a pretty reasonable guy, so he agreed to this interview rather than, y'know, clawing my face off. We've arranged for an Alakazam to act as translator, so... here's hoping this goes off without a hitch. First of all, thanks for agreeing to this, Thierry.
T: No trouble. It's not like I really had a choice, considering that I am your character and all.
B: Hey. Thierry. Mind the fourth wall.
T: Right. Statement redacted.
S: Actually, the fourth wall pretty much caved in the moment this interview began. So... I couldn't help noticing you have a name.
T: That's very perceptive of you.
S: ...Right. It's a little unusual for Pokemon to have names, though, especially surnames. Care to shed some light on that?
T: Gladly. The name Thierry means something along the lines of "ruler of the people." Which doesn't apply to me in the slightest. Unless we count this interview, I have never had contact with people before, and I don't rule over any territory at all.
B: Except for our cave.
T: Really, my name is meant to be a play on theory, though it isn't actually pronounced that way. It's sort of like saying Terry while faking a bad accent. Tyair-ee.
B: Tee-airy. Thierry. Rhymes with fairy.
T: Thank you, Basil, that will do. *ahem* My surname--the "black" part of it, anyway--is a tribute of sorts to film noir. Noir is French for black. The "well" part of it was mostly because Thierry Black sounded too cheesy, and... I don't know, I do my job very well? Whatever you were thinking at the time. You really fancy yourself clever, don't you?
S: That I do. So what about everyone else in Central Square?
T: They don't think you're that clever either.
S: Not what I meant.
T: Oh, right. Well, Basil's name came from Basicladus, which is a genus name for a kind of moth. Bagworms or Carolina somethings or... whatever they are. All of the members of Team Deceivers have names that relate in some way to trickery. Rook is a slang term for a swindler or cheater, Chichane is derived from chichanery, and Jazz is also slang for insincerity.
Gypsy's name is a play on gyp, which is a term for ripoff and therefore fits with the Deceiver theme. Firebrand, by definition, is either something that's on fire, or somebody who stirs up trouble, kindles revolts, that sort of thing. Possibly both. Quid... well, quid nunc is Latin for "what now," and quid could also refer that old term for a British pound, which fits with his role of informer. Stool pidgeon. Whatever Quid is.
B: You... you don't actually pay Quid to talk, Thierry, do you?
T: That would be like paying a Spoink to bounce, Basil.
B: Oh, wait. What about Hemlock and Neiro? We're forgetting them!
T: Hemlock... basically, a poisonous plant. Neiro comes from oneiro, the Greek word for dream. The less said about those two, the better.
S: Amen to that. But as fascinating as it is to hear about the meaning behind the names, that still doesn't explain why wild animals have names.
T: Wild animals? I resent that.
B: Resent? Did you already send it once? And why would you be mailing wild animals, anyway? Pelipper won't like that.
T: Basil... never mind. It's true that in human-inhabited areas and isolated communities, most wild Pokemon won't have names. Some do, but their kind take names as deeply personal things that are only to be shared with those very close to you. Amongst Pokemon, it's perfectly acceptible to call another Pokemon by their species name. In terms of formality, it's somewhere between being on a last-name basis with somebody and calling them "hey, kid." Many of the Pokemon in Central Square do have names, if only because of the high population. It's a little annoying to go by "Pikachu" when there are twenty other Pikachus in the neighbourhood. Last names are a strictly northern tradition, though. Probably because the north is even more crowded than the south.
S: Yeah, about that... explain to me exactly where you live. I mean... I played Blue Rescue Team a while ago, and I don't quite remember some of the stuff you described in the story.
T: Ugh... those silly games of yours have about as much in common with my world as a Nidoran does with a Heatran. There might be some similarities at a glance, but that's it. I live on an uncharted island, sort of an independent nation, if you will. If you dig through our history textbooks, then you'll see the land referred to as Arcadia, but nobody actually calls it that these days. No real need for a name. Most of the population lives up north, where I hail from. There are a few places of interest, but the only one you really need to know about now is Frostview, the largest city on the island. Down in the southern half of the island is Central Square, which is neither central nor a square. There are other noteworthy places in the southern end, too, but I'll save the geography lesson for another time.
B: There was a real big gold rush up north years ago, which is why the north got so crowded. Even if the weather is real ugly up there. And, uh... for what it's worth? I looked at an atlas this one time, and I'm pretty sure we're to the east of the place where that famous Go-Getters team lives.