Chapter one: Choosing your ‘friends’.
"Breaking news from the Indigo Plateau,
the Pokemon league is announcing an all new tournament open to any trainer from any region!
More details coming soon."
The TV newscaster announced.
Those words were all that it took, shaking his resolve and strengthening it. Lance slowly arose from the chains of his deep sleep with a sharp awareness of today's coming events. His eyelids slowly opening as he surveyed the room for a moment before coming into his usual dark state of mind. Today was the day he would get his starting Pokémon, one who would join him on a trip for the rest of his journey.
His mother, Sara Grey, owner of a top class Pokémon care farm, stood in front of him with a blank expression on her face. Her husband, Jack, had tried to convince his son to pick up the family trade, breeding and taking care of Pokémon and having a stable lifestyle. He had managed to talk his son out of becoming a trainer for a few years now. He passed away last winter, removing the barriers that tied Lance to this place. At the age of eighteen he suddenly decided to go out and seek his own fate. There had been some arguments from his mother -if one could call a scream-fest an argument-, about her son’s fate, the stupidity of it all. Finally the mother had given in and made an appointment with a local professor. Lance barely acknowledged her as he got dressed and made his way downstairs, grabbing some supplies before he left.
It would only be a short walk towards the professor, perhaps ten minutes, tops. Irritation filled his veins when he noticed the large crowd that had formed in front of the building, blocking his way. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who was trying his luck at becoming a Pokémon master. So there he stood, nearly a head taller than most around him, not to mention years older than the average brat here. People did not become a trainer at such an ‘old age’. He fought his way through irritation and kept his visage calm and emotionless.
After two hours waiting he finally had the items he wanted, a few pokéballs and a Pokédex. He only needed the former, yet the latter might come in handy, not that he needed any information. Due to his background he knew most Pokémon from watching them in his father’s and mother’s line of work, knowing their strengths and weaknesses. He ignored the professor the minute he had his starting set, walking out of the building and slamming the door shut, not caring that it might be seen as offensive. He was getting tired of these fucking kids hanging around and acting all excited. If he had stayed he would have been given a starter Pokémon, not that he needed one. He had a perfectly fine starter already in his backpack, something he took from home; a heirloom.(+5 Pokéballs+1 Pokédex.)
Two hours later, two hours of none stop walking away from his old life. The road had been even and so far he had not yet encountered anything of worth. He decided it was high time he would introduce himself to his new Pokémon, establish a firm line of command, seeing as they were not at the farm anymore. He was the master, the boss. He had heard of starter Pokémon being a bit rebellious if one did not have a gym badge, yet Lance doubted that would happen to himself. Funny enough Pokémon who worked and lived at the breeding farm were more likely to behave, not needing the badges. Lance suspected that trainers did not need a badge to gain respect from their Pokémon, yet were quick to use the lack of one as a blame for not being able to control one. Lance had gained an impressive strong build from working with his father and he had the mentality to use that said build if a Pokémon even considered irritating him. Besides that he also had a special trick he would use when it came down to it.
He grabbed the pokéball and threw it on the ground, watching a red light form on the ground, transporting his Pokémon to the ground. In his mind he already had a solid plan, a way to glory. He wasn’t going to be like any trainer that had been before him. He knew people his age already had years and years of experience behind them, yet they lacked something. Lance wasn’t shy to get his hands dirty, knock a few heads or abuse a few rears to get what he wanted. If a trainer’s Pokémon was too strong, Lance would follow, silently, and beat up that Pokémon trainer when he or she was asleep, or simply train harder.