A Realistic Pokemon RP
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FULL NAME: grayson leo harding
it is you, your three brothers, your mother and your father. you grow up on the south side of saffron city, away from the bustling fun of pokemon gyms or the technobabble of silph co. it isn't peaceful -- none of saffron really is. but it's home.
your father works for silph co. when you are little you imagine he comes up with the great ideas. you tell your classmates that your papa invented the master ball. they laugh at you, but you know it's true. one day, just like your brother's day a year or so ago, he takes you to work with him. you hold his hand as you walk, excited to see your papa make real science happen. in the locker room -- which should have been your first hint -- you watch papa slide into his uniform. a jumpsuit. with pockets and a nametag, which reads 'joe', not ken. you stand by his side as he leads you to his spot at the conveyor belt, and you watch him screw cap after cap onto max potion. you feel strange. disillusioned, yes. but proud. prouder than you ever could have been of a man who sits at a desk thinking of things all day. you are proud of your father's overworked hands and his sleepy dedication. of the overtime he works and the naps he doesn't take at home. you go home happy.
your mother is a psychic. you don't believe her. you know pokemon can be psychic, and you hear stories about sabrina, but your mother? she plays tricks and is very good at sleight of hand. you watch people leave your home with tears in their eyes and 50p less in their pockets. as a teenager, you sit at her table, and you smile like she smiles and she knows you've never once believed her. she takes your hand in hers -- she has freckles on her knuckles like the ones on your cheeks -- and runs her thumb over the meat of your palm. she turns your hand over, tracing the lines curiously, eyebrows perking at what she discovers. "baby, you're gonna take care of us all someday. more than now." your eyes roll before you can stop them, and you both laugh. everyone knew that already. she continues on, and closes your fingers over your palm, touching your fist with fingertips. "oh baby, someday you'll have a pretty wife. and she's gonna love me." that's when you know she's full of shit.
marius is the pokemon trainer of the house. older than you and bigger and stronger and sometimes, braver. he's very good and you look up to him, even if you're the one to keep your little brothers safe. the day before marius' pokemon adventure starts, he sits with you at the train tracks like you do every weekend (watching the johto tourists come clambering into the city). he sets a pokeball in your hand -- you have never been particularly interested in pokemon, too focused and driven on your family. "someone's gotta keep you safe, too." he says with wisdom beyond his years, and you hold the ball between two hands. you walk home in silence and it's not until he leaves the next day that you lay in your new top bunk and release the pokemon inside. machop seems surprised to see you, and you surprised to see him, but you're inseparable after that.
kingsley. kingsley is fiery. obsessed with power, control and being right. you know something has gone wrong when he starts disappearing for days at a time, brings home unexplained pokemon, won't change clothing in front of you or your brother anymore. you can sense it, too. feel his energy change. he goes from playfully spirited to angry. one day you see him on the streets... in his uniform. with the hat and the crimson capital r on his chest. your stomach drops, and without thinking you summon machop to your side, and you kick his rattata's ass and you tell king if he doesn't take that god damn thing off you never want to see him home again. you don't mean it. but he doesn't come home.
it's just you and jon after that. the house is quiet. papa loses his job -- everything becomes automatic like in kalos, kanto slowly catching up with the times. you and jon start riding your skates over to celadon to try to escape the stress and the fear of home. you throw your skates over your shoulders and take the elevator to the top of the department store for lemonades, and then you pop into the bottom floor for scratch offs. you scratch them together, in unison, and you always lose. so jon double dares you -- he double dares you a lot -- to buy a real lottery ticket. you do. you run machop's numbers and the next three minutes and twenty-two seconds nearly kill you.
as a millionaire, you feel... strange. and as someone with money, who hadn't really worked for it at all, you feel worse. sickened by yourself. but fuck is it fun. for a while you just buy your family big meals every night. you take them onto the town. you and your mama play slots until midnight, dressed to the nines. and then you get weary, and you think of the future. like you always have. of keeping your family safe.
it starts in saffron, where you go to the north and you buy a house for cheap. you don't hire anyone to work for you -- jon helps. and your papa. and machop, of course, who proves to be the strongest and fastest of you all. you re-plaster walls and fix roofs yourselves. the intention all along is to sell it, but you give it to your family. so you and jon can have separate rooms. so your mama can have a work room for herself. so papa can watch tv without turning the volume down to 5.
they refuse. your mama is downright offended. she says, "since when is our house not good enough?" and that settles that. you sell the property for twice its original value and you start learning how to invest to gain. you think like a person with money. you and machop make a name for yourselves, and soon half of saffron is designed by you and built by machop.
there's a moment you know it's time to leave. your father supports you fully and your mother doesn't talk to you for four whole hours. you ask her if you'd left at eighteen, like marius, would she be mad? she softens and hugs you tight, her face in your neck, and she makes you a big helping of curry to take on the road.