From: Adrian Tymes ( Subject: Re: [PW!] New Beginnings Blow Newsgroups: Date: 2001-04-28 21:45:31 PST Rob wrote: > "No it's not." The Pokemon master shakes his head, surprised at Sarah's lack > of basic Pokemon knowledge, "Grass Pokemon are weak against Flying Pokemon. > Chikorita would have its leaf eaten by that Gym Leader's Bird Pokemon! > Besides, all of the Pokemon that Professor Elm hands out to new trainers > evolve. I'm not saying that Chikorita is a bad choice... I'm just letting you > know that it wouldn't be helpful against Falkner's Pokemon so that if you > chose it, you won't send it out against an enemy it has no chance of beating. > Totodile or Cyndaquil could stand a chance, but not Chikorita." > > "Oh, well... I need... need to think about it... then." Sarah says this while > she stashes the Sun Stone away in her bag, but she has already decided not to > choose Chikorita since the master thinks that it wouldn't help her beat > Falkner, which is her main reason for getting this new Pokemon. What follows > Sarah's comment is an awkward silence. She's never been good at breaking the > pauses in conversation, so she just stands still quietly, waiting for someone > else to speak up... Meanwhile, back at the table, Elm's wife raises an approving eye towards the two. "I don't mind him being involved in pokemon, but I was starting to wonder if he'd ever notice girls." Mimic glances behind himself for a moment, then shakes his head dismissively. "Mimic know type. Pretty sure both talking pokemon, not love. Besides, like said, Falkner already in line for that one." "You're kidding, right? Isn't he a little old for her?" Mimic shrugs, neither meeting nor avoiding the wife's gaze. "Mimic no judge. Besides, if that true and everlasting love like Mimic told about, age no matter - they as far apart in 20, 50, 100 years as far apart now, even if age ratio much closer." "I don't think they need to worry about what happens 100 years from now." Mimic glances at her, curious, then returns to cleaning his plate. "Apologies. Mimic forget most grow old and die." "You don't?" Elm shrugs. "Dittos don't age in the normal sense. They're constantly regenerating at all levels including genetic, much like cancer cells. In fact, in their natural form, they bear a certain resemblence to large cancer offense." Mimic calmly serves himself another piece of pie. "None taken. Is factually correct, and Mimic try not get offended at truth, so Mimic no deceive Mimic." He wolfs down the slice in one bite. "Mmm. Is good pie!" The wife, who had been about to caution Mimic on his manners, instead blushes. "Thank you." Another knock at the door catches their attention. As Elm's wife rolls her eyes, mutters a curse on a certain member of the medical profession, and goes to answer it, Elm stands up. "I don't know about you, but I'm full. I think we should wait on clearing the table until your friend there has fed her mareep; if you're done too, maybe it would help her convince it to come over if we weren't here. In fact, why don't we go make that call to Professor Oak before the food gets cold?" Mimic leaps off the chair, transforming into another Elm before his feet hit the floor. "Sounds good." In a slightly louder voice, he calls out to Sarah and company, "Table yours, if Barbie want anything." "Just don't let Barbie eat the tablecloth," Elm adds. It is only a few steps to the phone in the kitchen - in fact, the whole bottom floor seems to be one big room with a wall jutting out halfway into it to hang kitchen and other stuff on. Mimic wonders if this is one of those "sacrifice everything for the kids' sake" houses where the entire upper floor is a single bedroom, reserved for the child, and the adults sleep in fold-away futons on the ground floor with little personal space. These models were often upgraded to more substantial houses once the kids left, for instance on pokemon journeys, but this house had not been upgraded yet. Mimic also idly wonders where the bathroom is, not out of any pressing need but because he has just never seen one in these basic models. His wonderings are broken by a cry of, "MIMIC?!?!?" He allows a slight bead of sweat to reflect his former inattention as he turns to the already-connected videophone. "Hi, Professor Oak." "By the apricorns, it *is* you. I'd been tracking you in the papers, but it was like you just dropped off the face of the planet five years ago." "Mimic no know what mean. Mimic been here all along." "Listen, Mimic...I heard about the time-travel concert you had, just before you vanished. I need you to tell me where you went next." 'Elm' shrugs. "Mimic screwed up brother's chance at rebirth. Drake thought maybe Johto would get Mimic mind off it. Took bullet train, but needed teleport off before arrival. Things get hot." ", no, that couldn't possibly...well, no, given Mimic's luck I shouldn't be too surprised if it did. Ahem. Mimic, when you teleported off, you didn't arrive in Goldenrod, did you?" "No. Mimic, Drake, Memuyo arrive near cable car. Ride cable car, but car go boom after step off. Very strange." Oak's eyes grow wide. "So that *was* you! There were reports of something teleporting through a temporal vortex, arriving in Violet City. Some local vigilantes thought it was Team Rocket trying to get back on its feet and tried to stop them; for a little while, the press were having a field day with 'Violent' City. Say...this Drake and Memuyo wouldn't happen to be a dragonite and meowth, would they?" "Yes." "Those two were seen with what was assumed to be their trainer near the teleport, but the behavior fits you. Well then, Mimic, welcome to the future." "5 years pass? Hmm...anything major happen Mimic need know about?" "Actually, quite a few things. It'd take some time to describe them all..." Oak began tapping on the keyboard on his computer's end of the line. "...but I think I can...ah, there we go! As it happens, my assistant Tracey compied a list of the main history of the past ten years, to mark the turn of the decade for some of the major newspapers. The first half you already know, having lived through it yourself; the second half is what you'll be interested in. It'll get you up to a few months ago, anyway. You will, of course, want to take special note of the new pokemon types and species. I'll send the article over along with what pokedex information we have on the new types, but I've heard there's a more complete set of information at Earl's Pokemon Academy back in Violet City. If you check it out, could you report back to me on what you find? I've never had a chance to attend it myself, just visit briefly, but I've heard many good things about it." "Mimic will. And thanks." Elm blinks, a little confused. "How are you going to get the files over? Is Mimic a speed reader or something?" Mimic shoots Elm a look, then transforms into a pokedex and inserts himself into the videophone's slot. Oak smiles. "Transferring this amount of data will take most of the night, so I'll pay for the long distance charges. It's the least I can do, for now." Elm shakes his head and steps away from the phone, hoping that Mimic can both absorb data and sleep at the same time. Turning around, he finds his wife still at the door, as his son, Sarah, and Barbie go up the stairs. Knowing his son's habits, Elm doubts he will be down for the rest of the night, and will probably attempt to get Sarah to sleep in his room - with no sexual activities actually occuring, but giving him the ability to truthfully, if somewhat misdirectionally, brag to his friends that he "slept with" her. TBC? [Phant: given where Marcus was, the knock is probably him. Chance to interact, if you want, though Rob asked me to forward the story to bedtime.]