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Description
Perspective
Rival's POV: The game hates you.
Pokemon Gen I/FRLG

Chapter I
Palette Swap

The door creaked open as Gramps strode in, confidence in his stride as he navigated through shelves, tables and busy aides. Finally. I had come half-an hour early, and in reward for my punctuality, he showed up nearly an hour late.

"Gramps!" I scowled, marching up towards him indignantly. "I'm fed up with waiting!"

"Blue?" His eyebrows creased in confusion. "Let me think..."

I twitched, annoyed. This was an important day for me, and Gramps had just wasted the effort I put into waking up early with his absentmindedness.

I still remember the time that he even forgot my name – his own grandson!

"Oh!" He finally exclaimed, realization dawning upon his face. "That's right, I told you to come. Just wait."

More waiting. What was he- Who's that behind him? Red?!

"Here, Red." Gramps smiled affably at him, gently leading him to a table where the last of Gramps's Pokemon – and some of the rarest he ever owned – rested in their Pokeballs. "There are three Pokemon here." I tensed at his proud laughter. I don't believe it. He can't really mean to- "They are inside the Pokeballs. When I was young, I was a serious Pokemon trainer. In my old age, I have only three left, but you can have one." He did. My fists clenched tightly at my side. "Choose!"

I exploded.

"Hey, Gramps!" I snarled. My nails dug into the skin of my palms at the unfairness of it all. "What about me?" He told me to come, and I came here first. I waited for over an hour. And he would give my Pokemon to Red?!

"Be patient, Blue!" He admonished with a stern eye. "You can have one, too."

But not before Red, he left unsaid. Gramps would not listen to anything I had to say – not when he was like this. I struggled to rein in my temper, but my shoulders still shook with anger just barely bridled.

We had been best friends, once, Red and I. I taught him courage, and he taught me patience. Everyone always said that he was a sweet, shy boy, and I learned to tolerate his lengthy quiet, and to read his body language – to understand him. But that was a long time ago, and many things had happened since then.

Many things.

Red turned to me and opened his mouth as if to speak, but I cut him off, bitterly gesturing at the Pokeballs with a wide sweep of my arm. "Heh, I don't need to be greedy like you! Go ahead and choose, Red!"

He shifted and looked at his feet, as if unsure, before turning to Gramps. I gritted my teeth at his antics. Gramps only smiled fondly and patted him on the head, over his cap. "Now, Red, which Pokemon do you want?"

He spared me a glance before he dawdled to the table and picked up the leftmost Pokeball.

"I see," Gramps nodded sagely. "Bulbasaur is your choice. It's very easy to raise."

And Bulbasaur was. Even their evolutions maintained their gentle temperament, and they are considered some of the easiest Pokemon to handle, in addition to being very affectionate towards their trainers. But Red merely scrutinized it and set it down before picking up the next one.

"Hm!" Gramps smiled, as if to a secret joke he would not share. "Squirtle is your choice. It's one worth raising."

I tensed quietly, rooted to the spot. Had I been allowed first pick, I would've chosen Squirtle. Like Gramps had said, it was definitely worth raising. It was well balanced both offensively and defensively, with great survivability thanks to its shell and a powerful jet of water. Blastoise are some of the most powerful water Pokemon known, and its element would mean an advantage in the first two gyms – Viridian and Pewter, ground and rock – whilst it would be right at home in the third gym – Cerulean, water. As a water Pokemon, it would also be able to learn Ice moves, which would be vital in fighting and capturing the Pokemon that were arguably the rarest and strongest amongst non-legendaries – the mighty dragons, so powerful that some trainers even honour them with the title of pseudo-legendary.

But Red put the Pokeball down again. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, and hoped that neither Red nor Gramps heard it. Make up your mind, already, Red! He strolled over to the last Pokeball and rolled it between his hands repeatedly, a pensive look upon his face. I could tell he wanted this one, but was hesitating for some reason.

"Ah!" This time, Gramps folded his arms, pleased. "Charmander is your choice. You should raise it patiently."

But yet again Red set down the Pokeball. I twitched, impatient. Gramps was starting to sound like a broken track record. I suppose Red was carefully considering his choices, but he was really pushing his luck. He should be satisfied with getting a free Pokemon from my grandfather, before even I myself got one from him. And yet Red still had the gall to be picky about it.

To my great relief, Red finally made his choice and picked up Bulbasaur's Pokeball. The way he cradled it in his cupped hands, as if it were a fragile thing that could be easily broken, irritated me. He looked like a little kid who knew nothing about Pokemon or Pokeballs, handling it that way. Or perhaps a beggar pleading for a bit of generosity. I sneered. Not that Red was ever in danger of becoming a beggar.

"So, Red, you want to go with the Grass Pokemon, Bulbasaur?"

Red nodded at Gramps, and minimized then attached the Pokeball to the first slot on his belt. Without even a single word of thanks. Ingrate.

By now my patience was really starting to wear thin, but I strode around him to the other side of the table, and reached for the Pokeballs. Faced with the choice, I hesitated, but only for a beat.

I firmly took hold of Charmander's Pokeball.

"I'll take this one, then!"

I would get more chances to capture water Pokemon later. For now, my priority was to show Red that he hadn't yet taken everything from me. I still had my battle skills and strategies, learnt after long nights of poring over thick and difficult books in this very laboratory.

I still had my talent, my ambition, and my victory.

I turned to challenge Red to a battle, but he was already retreating from the lab. Again, without a single word. I gripped my Pokeball tighter in my hand, and marched towards him.

"Wait, Red!" I taunted at his back. "Let's check out our Pokemon! Come on, I'll take you on!"

I tossed the Pokeball to the ground, and deftly caught it on its return arc. Somewhere behind me, I registered the disappointed sigh of my grandfather. You don't understand how much this means to me, Gramps. I have to defeat him.

Charmander was still very young, and it blinked big glossy eyes around the whole room, waving its tail about. It flexed its claws as the air warmed from its tail flame, and I smiled. This was a strong Pokemon. I could practically feel the immense potential roiling inside its tiny body. I nodded at it, and it seemed to acknowledge me as its master, as it trotted towards me and coughed a bit of smoke from its mouth.

I knelt down and patted it on the head, rubbing my hand over its warm orange scales. In response, it pushed its head approvingly against my palm, the coarse texture of its scales scratching against my skin. I would have no time to train it, but the type advantage should put the battle in my favour. Even without any real battle skills, its tail flame remained dangerous, especially to Grass Pokemon.

Then Bulbasaur materialized across the floor, and I nudged Charmander towards it. At my prompt, Charmander waddled in its direction, curious.

"Growl," I heard Red's familiar whisper command, and a low growling sound filled the air as Red's Bulbasaur crouched lower to the ground.

Charmander tilted its head at the noise, and I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Charmander, attack it with your claws."

At my command, Charmander scrabbled forwards and poked at the Bulbasaur playfully with a finger.

Bulbasaur recoiled in horror from the claw's touch, whining.

"Growl," Red said again, and his Bulbasaur repeated the move, pressing its body to the ground as the rumbling noise was emitted from its throat. How endearing. In young Pokemon, the act of growling was not designed to intimidate, but to exude a facade of harmlessness and thus cause the opponent to let its guard down.

My eyes narrowed.

If this kept up much longer, Charmander would refuse to attack Red's Bulbasaur at all. I couldn't afford to lose this battle. I had saved up money for the past three years to prepare for this day, and I would have to fork out half of that if I lost here. No, I had to end this now.

"Charmander, smack it with your tail."

But Charmander instead turned its back to the Bulbasaur and tilted its head at me, puzzled. I bit off a curse as Red's eyes gleamed at the opportunity.

"Tackle," he whispered urgently. "Now."

His Bulbasaur's eyes mirrored the gleam in its trainer's, and it barrelled forwards to crash into my Charmander's vulnerable back.

And just like that, it was over.

Description
Perspective
Rival's POV: The game hates you.
Pokemon Gen I/FRLG

Chapter I
Palette Swap

The door creaked open as Gramps strode in, confidence in his stride as he navigated through shelves, tables and busy aides. Finally. I had come half-an hour early, and in reward for my punctuality, he showed up nearly an hour late.

"Gramps!" I scowled, marching up towards him indignantly. "I'm fed up with waiting!"

"Blue?" His eyebrows creased in confusion. "Let me think..."

I twitched, annoyed. This was an important day for me, and Gramps had just wasted the effort I put into waking up early with his absentmindedness.

I still remember the time that he even forgot my name – his own grandson!

"Oh!" He finally exclaimed, realization dawning upon his face. "That's right, I told you to come. Just wait."

More waiting. What was he- Who's that behind him? Red?!

"Here, Red." Gramps smiled affably at him, gently leading him to a table where the last of Gramps's Pokemon – and some of the rarest he ever owned – rested in their Pokeballs. "There are three Pokemon here." I tensed at his proud laughter. I don't believe it. He can't really mean to- "They are inside the Pokeballs. When I was young, I was a serious Pokemon trainer. In my old age, I have only three left, but you can have one." He did. My fists clenched tightly at my side. "Choose!"

I exploded.

"Hey, Gramps!" I snarled. My nails dug into the skin of my palms at the unfairness of it all. "What about me?" He told me to come, and I came here first. I waited for over an hour. And he would give my Pokemon to Red?!

"Be patient, Blue!" He admonished with a stern eye. "You can have one, too."

But not before Red, he left unsaid. Gramps would not listen to anything I had to say – not when he was like this. I struggled to rein in my temper, but my shoulders still shook with anger just barely bridled.

We had been best friends, once, Red and I. I taught him courage, and he taught me patience. Everyone always said that he was a sweet, shy boy, and I learned to tolerate his lengthy quiet, and to read his body language – to understand him. But that was a long time ago, and many things had happened since then.

Many things.

Red turned to me and opened his mouth as if to speak, but I cut him off, bitterly gesturing at the Pokeballs with a wide sweep of my arm. "Heh, I don't need to be greedy like you! Go ahead and choose, Red!"

He shifted and looked at his feet, as if unsure, before turning to Gramps. I gritted my teeth at his antics. Gramps only smiled fondly and patted him on the head, over his cap. "Now, Red, which Pokemon do you want?"

He spared me a glance before he dawdled to the table and picked up the leftmost Pokeball.

"I see," Gramps nodded sagely. "Bulbasaur is your choice. It's very easy to raise."

And Bulbasaur was. Even their evolutions maintained their gentle temperament, and they are considered some of the easiest Pokemon to handle, in addition to being very affectionate towards their trainers. But Red merely scrutinized it and set it down before picking up the next one.

"Hm!" Gramps smiled, as if to a secret joke he would not share. "Squirtle is your choice. It's one worth raising."

I tensed quietly, rooted to the spot. Had I been allowed first pick, I would've chosen Squirtle. Like Gramps had said, it was definitely worth raising. It was well balanced both offensively and defensively, with great survivability thanks to its shell and a powerful jet of water. Blastoise are some of the most powerful water Pokemon known, and its element would mean an advantage in the first two gyms – Viridian and Pewter, ground and rock – whilst it would be right at home in the third gym – Cerulean, water. As a water Pokemon, it would also be able to learn Ice moves, which would be vital in fighting and capturing the Pokemon that were arguably the rarest and strongest amongst non-legendaries – the mighty dragons, so powerful that some trainers even honour them with the title of pseudo-legendary.

But Red put the Pokeball down again. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, and hoped that neither Red nor Gramps heard it. Make up your mind, already, Red! He strolled over to the last Pokeball and rolled it between his hands repeatedly, a pensive look upon his face. I could tell he wanted this one, but was hesitating for some reason.

"Ah!" This time, Gramps folded his arms, pleased. "Charmander is your choice. You should raise it patiently."

But yet again Red set down the Pokeball. I twitched, impatient. Gramps was starting to sound like a broken track record. I suppose Red was carefully considering his choices, but he was really pushing his luck. He should be satisfied with getting a free Pokemon from my grandfather, before even I myself got one from him. And yet Red still had the gall to be picky about it.

To my great relief, Red finally made his choice and picked up Bulbasaur's Pokeball. The way he cradled it in his cupped hands, as if it were a fragile thing that could be easily broken, irritated me. He looked like a little kid who knew nothing about Pokemon or Pokeballs, handling it that way. Or perhaps a beggar pleading for a bit of generosity. I sneered. Not that Red was ever in danger of becoming a beggar.

"So, Red, you want to go with the Grass Pokemon, Bulbasaur?"

Red nodded at Gramps, and minimized then attached the Pokeball to the first slot on his belt. Without even a single word of thanks. Ingrate.

By now my patience was really starting to wear thin, but I strode around him to the other side of the table, and reached for the Pokeballs. Faced with the choice, I hesitated, but only for a beat.

I firmly took hold of Charmander's Pokeball.

"I'll take this one, then!"

I would get more chances to capture water Pokemon later. For now, my priority was to show Red that he hadn't yet taken everything from me. I still had my battle skills and strategies, learnt after long nights of poring over thick and difficult books in this very laboratory.

I still had my talent, my ambition, and my victory.

I turned to challenge Red to a battle, but he was already retreating from the lab. Again, without a single word. I gripped my Pokeball tighter in my hand, and marched towards him.

"Wait, Red!" I taunted at his back. "Let's check out our Pokemon! Come on, I'll take you on!"

I tossed the Pokeball to the ground, and deftly caught it on its return arc. Somewhere behind me, I registered the disappointed sigh of my grandfather. You don't understand how much this means to me, Gramps. I have to defeat him.

Charmander was still very young, and it blinked big glossy eyes around the whole room, waving its tail about. It flexed its claws as the air warmed from its tail flame, and I smiled. This was a strong Pokemon. I could practically feel the immense potential roiling inside its tiny body. I nodded at it, and it seemed to acknowledge me as its master, as it trotted towards me and coughed a bit of smoke from its mouth.

I knelt down and patted it on the head, rubbing my hand over its warm orange scales. In response, it pushed its head approvingly against my palm, the coarse texture of its scales scratching against my skin. I would have no time to train it, but the type advantage should put the battle in my favour. Even without any real battle skills, its tail flame remained dangerous, especially to Grass Pokemon.

Then Bulbasaur materialized across the floor, and I nudged Charmander towards it. At my prompt, Charmander waddled in its direction, curious.

"Growl," I heard Red's familiar whisper command, and a low growling sound filled the air as Red's Bulbasaur crouched lower to the ground.

Charmander tilted its head at the noise, and I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Charmander, attack it with your claws."

At my command, Charmander scrabbled forwards and poked at the Bulbasaur playfully with a finger.

Bulbasaur recoiled in horror from the claw's touch, whining.

"Growl," Red said again, and his Bulbasaur repeated the move, pressing its body to the ground as the rumbling noise was emitted from its throat. How endearing. In young Pokemon, the act of growling was not designed to intimidate, but to exude a facade of harmlessness and thus cause the opponent to let its guard down.

My eyes narrowed.

If this kept up much longer, Charmander would refuse to attack Red's Bulbasaur at all. I couldn't afford to lose this battle. I had saved up money for the past three years to prepare for this day, and I would have to fork out half of that if I lost here. No, I had to end this now.

"Charmander, smack it with your tail."

But Charmander instead turned its back to the Bulbasaur and tilted its head at me, puzzled. I bit off a curse as Red's eyes gleamed at the opportunity.

"Tackle," he whispered urgently. "Now."

His Bulbasaur's eyes mirrored the gleam in its trainer's, and it barrelled forwards to crash into my Charmander's vulnerable back.

And just like that, it was over.