From: "STEFFAN HEDD ALUN" <sha3@aber.ac.uk> Subject: [PW!] The Schizoid and the Stag Date: Monday, May 17, 2004 10:09 AM "LOUD! LOUD-LOUD LOUD LOOOOUD! LOUD LOUD, LOUD LOUD-LOUD, LOUD LOOOUD!" "That's nice, Loudred," said Mike, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "You've learned to sing." Mike looked up at the sky. It was sunrise. He noted that the clouds looked particularly pretty today, but he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. "LOUD LOUD, LOUD! LOUD LOUD-LOUD! LOUD LOOOOUD!" Mike had to get as far away from Cerulean City as possible before people started to wake up. He knew the police there were looking for him, and he couldn't afford to be caught - he still hadn't found a way to prove his innocence, nor had he found anyone he knew and could defend him. He was currently heading south, having stopped briefly at a gypsy's tent. He'd been lucky enough to find that the gypsy wished him no ill, despite the fact that his psychic Clamperl had informed him that Mike was on the run. Still, he couldn't be too careful, and he needed to avoid strangers if possible. Walking through the grassy fields and jumping over fences, Mike began to feel happier. Admittedly, his situation seemed hopeless, but it was hard to worry in the countryside. He breathed the fresh air deeply, and rolled up his sleeves as the sun rose higher. "LOUD LOUD-LOOOOUD LOUD, LOUD LOUD, LOUD!" Mike started whistling along with Loudred's tune. He hopped over another fence. "REEEOOOOW!" "What the-" Suddenly, something small and white jumped out of the grass. Mike realised he'd stepped on it. "Meowth!" exclaimed the creature, extending its claws. Mike sighed. He wanted a battle-free day. "Go on, Loudred," he said. "Take care of it." "LOUD LOUD!" said Loudred, shouting a little quieter to show Mike his appreciation for being allowed to battle. "Use your Uproar, Loudred," said Mike. "Seeing as that's what you're good at." And, Mike added to himself, it'll hopefully send you to sleep afterwards. "LOUD!" Loudred blared as he walked around, creating an Uproar. The Meowth Growled. "Meowth!" The Meowth swung its claws at Loudred, then swung its other paw around for a second swipe. Loudred fainted! "What?!" spluttered Mike. Loudred had even managed to defeat a Gym Leader's Pokémon! How could he lose to a wild Meowth? "You go, Smoochum," said Mike. Despite her size, Smoochum was the strongest Pokémon on Mike's team. She approached the Meowth, and gave it a Sweet Kiss before preparing for battle. This confused Meowth, but not enough to prevent it from pelting Smoochum with a barrage of coins. "Quick, Smoochum, use your Icy Wind!" Smoochum created a harsh, cold wind, containing tiny fragments of ice. Even Mike, who was standing some distance behind her, felt the chill in an otherwise warm environment. The Meowth, however, was barely phased. It Scratched Smoochum, injuring her severely. "No!" said Mike. How could a wild Meowth be this strong? "Alright, everyone - run away. Leave it alone." Smoochum tried to obey, but the Meowth Scratched her again, forcing her back into the fray. Suddenly, Mike heard an unfamiliar male voice from behind him. "Go on, Weepinbell! Get it back here!" A yellow Grass Pokémon bounded past Mike, allowing Smoochum to retreat. "Vine Whip!" A couple of vines shot out from Weepinbell's sides, keeping the Meowth at bay. "Right! Gotcha!" The man walked past Mike, who saw that he was in his fifties or so. The man picked up the Meowth and threw the Weepinbell a PokéBlok. "Come with me," he instructed Mike. "Your Pokémon need to be healed." PokéWars!: Mike Smith "The Schizoid and the Stag" Steffan Alun Mike was sitting down in the man's small house, clutching a cup of tea. He hadn't realised how thirsty he'd become until he felt the warm tea trickling down his dry throat. He smiled as he finished the mug. "You look rough," said the man who'd rescued him from the Meowth. "You may want to use my shower before you leave. I can wash your clothes for you too, if you like." "That's very kind," said Mike. "You're very hospitable." "I like taking care of others," said the man. "That's why I do what I do. I'm the Daycare Man!" "Oh!" said Mike, realisation dawning on him. "We have a Daycare Centre back home in Goldenrod. Nice family, the Raisers. I used to see the father occasionally when I took my daughter to school. He has a son who's the same age. We became quite good friends, since we both had the same name." Mike looked around the small house, comparing it to the Raisers' place on Route 34. "There's more of them, of course, since Goldenrod's a busier place." "Yes, they're very good," said the Daycare Man. "They're breeders as well, though, which is a skill I never picked up myself. I just raise them." "That Weepinbell was very impressive," said Mike. "Ah, I've been using him to help me sort out the troublemakers recently," explained the Daycare Man. "That Meowth you saw often wanders off into the fields. She's a nuisance. I'm sure she's attracted by the wild Meowths there." "Ah, so THAT's why she was so strong," said Mike. "You were raising her here!" "Quite," said the Daycare Man. "That said, though, you could afford to strengthen your team a bit. You need to be able to look after yourself. How would you like me to raise one of your Pokémon?" "I doubt I'll be coming back here any time soon," said Mike uncertainly. "I won't be able to pick them up." "Alright," said the Daycare Man. "I have an idea, then." He walked over to a large book, and scanned a few pages. "Here we go. A while ago, a trainer left two Pokémon with me and then phoned me to let me know he wouldn't be returning." Mike gasped. Why would someone do such an odd thing? "Now, since I charge by the hour, he hadn't paid a penny in advance, so these two are just leeching." He picked up two PokéBalls. "I'm happy to take care of them, of course, but... Well, they're not the smallest of Pokémon, and they need a lot of space to stretch their legs." He walked over to Mike. "How would you like to take them?" he asked. "Really?" said Mike. "Wow, that'd be great." "They're pretty strong," said the Daycare Man. "I've been raising them for a long time. They ought to keep you out of trouble. Since I started raising them, one's grown by 13 levels, and the other's grown by 15 levels." Mike thanked him and took the PokéBalls. "That'll be an even three-thousand, then," said the Daycare Man warmly. Then, realising what he'd said, added, "Sorry. Force of habit, you know how it is." Strange how so many people in professional situations seem to accidentally say things that make no sense, thought Mike. "Now, go shower!" said the Daycare Man. "You smell like you've been living on the streets." "Alright," smiled Mike. "Oh, and by the way," said the Daycare Man. "Those Pokémon have nicknames, and won't respond to anything else." "Alright," said Mike. "What are they?" "The shizoid's called Janus and the stag's called Ugger." Mike suspiciously considered what type of Pokémon this man had managed to get him to take off his hands. TBC?