Growing up with his father as his only parent, and his father being a Pokemon freak, it was expected that Michael Stanton be the same. After all, he was soon going to be old enough to go on his very own Pokemon journey, catching, training, and battling the creatures across the world, so he should learn what he could.
That he did well enough.
His mother was killed in a Safari incident with a Scyther some years back, but this only accelerated his need to learn how to control and train Pokemon to fight. His father usually gave him his Flareon to train on fire, rock, or water Pokemon in battles, so Michael could learn the need for true intelligence during battles.
For instance, Flareon's fourth fight under Michael was to be his first win. A Blastoise was sent out by the enemy trainer, and Michael let Flareon run in. As the Blastoise reared back for a Hydro-Pump, Michael used one of his favourite tactics.
"Flareon, use Quick Attack on the Blastoise's legs!"
Blastoise, readying itself to fire, not only was susceptible to tripping, but due to it's small legs and large shell, it would have some trouble getting back up, which it did. The Flareon's speedy attack knocked down the huge turtle Pokemon, and it attempted to push itself up, only managing to flip on its back. "Alright, you got it down! Now, use Swift!"
The fire-pet Pokemon leaped into the air, firing what seemed to be glowing stars from its mouth, striking the softer underbelly of the Blastoise and causing it to wince and shake in pain. Finally, the thing got back on its feet, eyes full of anger. It began running at Flareon, water pumping from the turrets in its shells to keep it in the area it was in.
"Give it some time!" Michael called, Flareon nodding and seeing what Michael meant. Flareon was backed into a wall, and with the Blastoise charging at it, it would most likely be critically injured. However, Flareon knew just what Michael was planning before he shouted "Ember!"
The fire Pokemon shot a few small flames at Blastoise's feet, causing it to stumble, giving the small dog-like creature enough room to jump out of the turtle's way before its head collided with the wall.
That was one of the last training battles Michael participated in before his eleventh birthday.
He began walking out the door, when his father called him back. "Michael, you look rather well equipped for this... But you need a Pokemon."
"I know Dad," he said as he adjusted his red and blue jacket, "That's why I was going to Professor Oak's lab."
"Well... Why don't you take Flareon?" he asked, a black and yellow ball in his hand. "After all, you two work great together, and--"
"Dad... I need my own Pokemon. I know how to battle, I know how to use tactics... But I haven't raised my own yet. I need to learn how to do that."
"Well, you raised a Magikarp!"
"...Dad, that thing STILL only knows Splash. I need to teach, raise, and bond with a Pokemon that could help me in the future, beyond being able to get water in my eyes." Michael sighed, shaking his head and smiling, as he turned for the door again. He put his hand on the knob, but turned his head back to his father. "If you need me, call me, alright? Take care of him, Flare."
The fire Pokemon released itself from the Pokeball, making a positive growl, and running to rub against Michael's leg. The boy grinned, before walking out the door, leaving his father and his Pokemon friends behind.
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He entered the laboratory, spotting Oak's grandson first. "Hm? What're you doing here, Michael?" Gary asked, his eyebrow raising.
"Came to get my first Pokemon, Gary. I suppose that's also what you came for?"
"Right-o." the professor's grandson responded, chuckling. Just as this conversation ended, a certain researcher walked through the front door, smiling.
"Well, if it isn't my grandson and my friend's son. How are you two?" Professor Oak asked kindly, proceeding to the table holding three Pokeballs.
"Fine."
"Doing good, Professor!"
"Good. Now then, you both came here for your first Pokemon, so let's get started and stop dilly-dallying, hm?" He then continued to the table, picking up the three Pokeballs and then putting them down in elemental order.
"Sir..." Michael began, curious. "There are three Pokeballs, but only two of us. Where's the third?"
"You know, I have no idea... Ash was supposed to be here by now... He must be sleeping in again, as usual. If either of you see him, could you please tell him to ask his mother to bring me some more of her home-made cookies? They're delicious!"
"...Uh... Right..."
"Well then, pick your Pokemon! Michael, why don't you go first."
Gary's ears seemed to twitch. "But, Grandpa, what about--"
"Patience, Gary, you'll get your turn."
Michael stepped up to the table, his eyes ablaze with happiness. He took the first Pokeball, and released the Pokemon. A lizard with a fire-tipped tail came from the glow, chirping and jumping in the air. Michael nodded, returning it to its ball. He went to the next, with the same effect. This time however, it was a blue turtle in a small shell, which seemed rather annoyed at being released. It was returned, and he continued to the third Pokeball.
He dropped it to the ground to release the Pokemon inside... And nothing came out. Confused, he turned to the Professor.
"Yes... The Pokemon I intended to put in there didn't like the ball very much, and refused to go back in. Would you like to see the Pikachu?"
Michael thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "No thanks, I already made my choice." He proceeded back down the table, and picked up the first Pokeball. "Charmander suits me just fine."
"Good!" Oak said happily, "It seemed to like you too! Gary?"
Without even waiting, Gary picked up the second ball. "Fire is utterly destroyed by water, thank you very much."
"That really shouldn't be your ONLY reason for--"
"Come on, Michael! Let's battle!" Gary threw down his Pokeball, the Squirtle inside appearing. However, the Squirtle seemed rather energetic now. Even if the choice wasn't made well, the Pokemon still liked Gary. Michael threw his own Pokeball, releasing the energetic Charmander, who growled at the water-type.
((To be continued in Chapter Two, Charmander's First Battle! *Corny anime music.*))
That he did well enough.
His mother was killed in a Safari incident with a Scyther some years back, but this only accelerated his need to learn how to control and train Pokemon to fight. His father usually gave him his Flareon to train on fire, rock, or water Pokemon in battles, so Michael could learn the need for true intelligence during battles.
For instance, Flareon's fourth fight under Michael was to be his first win. A Blastoise was sent out by the enemy trainer, and Michael let Flareon run in. As the Blastoise reared back for a Hydro-Pump, Michael used one of his favourite tactics.
"Flareon, use Quick Attack on the Blastoise's legs!"
Blastoise, readying itself to fire, not only was susceptible to tripping, but due to it's small legs and large shell, it would have some trouble getting back up, which it did. The Flareon's speedy attack knocked down the huge turtle Pokemon, and it attempted to push itself up, only managing to flip on its back. "Alright, you got it down! Now, use Swift!"
The fire-pet Pokemon leaped into the air, firing what seemed to be glowing stars from its mouth, striking the softer underbelly of the Blastoise and causing it to wince and shake in pain. Finally, the thing got back on its feet, eyes full of anger. It began running at Flareon, water pumping from the turrets in its shells to keep it in the area it was in.
"Give it some time!" Michael called, Flareon nodding and seeing what Michael meant. Flareon was backed into a wall, and with the Blastoise charging at it, it would most likely be critically injured. However, Flareon knew just what Michael was planning before he shouted "Ember!"
The fire Pokemon shot a few small flames at Blastoise's feet, causing it to stumble, giving the small dog-like creature enough room to jump out of the turtle's way before its head collided with the wall.
That was one of the last training battles Michael participated in before his eleventh birthday.
He began walking out the door, when his father called him back. "Michael, you look rather well equipped for this... But you need a Pokemon."
"I know Dad," he said as he adjusted his red and blue jacket, "That's why I was going to Professor Oak's lab."
"Well... Why don't you take Flareon?" he asked, a black and yellow ball in his hand. "After all, you two work great together, and--"
"Dad... I need my own Pokemon. I know how to battle, I know how to use tactics... But I haven't raised my own yet. I need to learn how to do that."
"Well, you raised a Magikarp!"
"...Dad, that thing STILL only knows Splash. I need to teach, raise, and bond with a Pokemon that could help me in the future, beyond being able to get water in my eyes." Michael sighed, shaking his head and smiling, as he turned for the door again. He put his hand on the knob, but turned his head back to his father. "If you need me, call me, alright? Take care of him, Flare."
The fire Pokemon released itself from the Pokeball, making a positive growl, and running to rub against Michael's leg. The boy grinned, before walking out the door, leaving his father and his Pokemon friends behind.
---------------------------------------------------------
He entered the laboratory, spotting Oak's grandson first. "Hm? What're you doing here, Michael?" Gary asked, his eyebrow raising.
"Came to get my first Pokemon, Gary. I suppose that's also what you came for?"
"Right-o." the professor's grandson responded, chuckling. Just as this conversation ended, a certain researcher walked through the front door, smiling.
"Well, if it isn't my grandson and my friend's son. How are you two?" Professor Oak asked kindly, proceeding to the table holding three Pokeballs.
"Fine."
"Doing good, Professor!"
"Good. Now then, you both came here for your first Pokemon, so let's get started and stop dilly-dallying, hm?" He then continued to the table, picking up the three Pokeballs and then putting them down in elemental order.
"Sir..." Michael began, curious. "There are three Pokeballs, but only two of us. Where's the third?"
"You know, I have no idea... Ash was supposed to be here by now... He must be sleeping in again, as usual. If either of you see him, could you please tell him to ask his mother to bring me some more of her home-made cookies? They're delicious!"
"...Uh... Right..."
"Well then, pick your Pokemon! Michael, why don't you go first."
Gary's ears seemed to twitch. "But, Grandpa, what about--"
"Patience, Gary, you'll get your turn."
Michael stepped up to the table, his eyes ablaze with happiness. He took the first Pokeball, and released the Pokemon. A lizard with a fire-tipped tail came from the glow, chirping and jumping in the air. Michael nodded, returning it to its ball. He went to the next, with the same effect. This time however, it was a blue turtle in a small shell, which seemed rather annoyed at being released. It was returned, and he continued to the third Pokeball.
He dropped it to the ground to release the Pokemon inside... And nothing came out. Confused, he turned to the Professor.
"Yes... The Pokemon I intended to put in there didn't like the ball very much, and refused to go back in. Would you like to see the Pikachu?"
Michael thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "No thanks, I already made my choice." He proceeded back down the table, and picked up the first Pokeball. "Charmander suits me just fine."
"Good!" Oak said happily, "It seemed to like you too! Gary?"
Without even waiting, Gary picked up the second ball. "Fire is utterly destroyed by water, thank you very much."
"That really shouldn't be your ONLY reason for--"
"Come on, Michael! Let's battle!" Gary threw down his Pokeball, the Squirtle inside appearing. However, the Squirtle seemed rather energetic now. Even if the choice wasn't made well, the Pokemon still liked Gary. Michael threw his own Pokeball, releasing the energetic Charmander, who growled at the water-type.
((To be continued in Chapter Two, Charmander's First Battle! *Corny anime music.*))