From: Adrian Tymes (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Subject: Re: [PW!] New Beginnings Blow
Date: 2001-04-28 21:45:31 PST
> "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
Mimic glances at her, curious, then returns to cleaning his plate.
"Apologies. Mimic forget most grow old and die."
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 cysts...no 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
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
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
"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."
"Hmm...wait...no, 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?"
"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
"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.
[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