Hello Serebii Forums, this is my first ever fanfiction, so I'm really exicited about this post. For now I'll keep things simple to see where this goes. I hope you enjoy.
Rating: PG, Brief instance of swearing
The rails shook violently as the train enters the station. A robotic voice echos sharply through the station “Grand, please exit the train”. A crowd of people exited the train, the last one to exit is a young man of about 17 years old, but many would say he looked like he was in his early 20’s with a stern looking expression that made the deep crevices of his face look even more defined. He had the face of someone that knew hardship, the defined features of his face made him look almost like a Roman marble statue.
The young man looked about the station with nonchalance, it was an ordinary scene. Men and women wearing business suits walking to work with their Pokémon. Students wait on a bench toiling over their phone. Pidove scurrying about the station looking for scraps of food. And of course the homeless begging for money, some with their Pokémon doing pointless tricks to grab people’s attention.
“I always hate when they do that”, the young man said quietly to himself looking upon a homeless man yelling at his Zigzagoon,
”You dumb s***, you have to juggle the balls not bounce them!” The homeless man then proceeded to beat the Zigzagoon. This homeless man looked like any other beggar with the exception of a burn mark covering the enitre left half of his face which alone made him stand out amongst the other beggars.
“He could gain more attention than the Zigzagoon“, the young man thought.
The young man proceeded down the stairs and asked a passerby for directions, “Do you know how I can get to the Salvation Army outlet store”, the young man asked. “Head straight up Grand and make a left on Union”, said the passerby. “Thanks”, said the young man.
When the young man had arrive at his destination, he immediately headed to the receptionist’s desk. As the young man walked through the building he couldn't help but be reminded of home. The destitute people of the city gathering for food and warmth, the hall's grey crumbling paint, the cheap floruscent lighting, and the smell of the unbathed. This sight made him more convinced that coming here was the right thing to do.
“Do you know where I can find Sander Rugh?” he asked.
“Oh Sander, he’s in the back room helping bring in a new donation of clothes.”
“Thank you”, he muttered.
The young man proceeded to the back and there was Sander, carrying a large box out of a truck without any help from his Pokémon.Sander is man of about medium height, close to his 30's. While Sander doesn't have any set piece of clothing he usually wears, you can always identify him through the hair (which has a thick layer on the top while the sides are thin and have trimmed into it the word Elite) and a crystal see-through amulet with silver edgings wrapped around his wrist. His complexion is light brown and looks to be of Native American descent. His face is quite handsome with a sharp jaw line and piercing brown eyes. Perhaps that is why he is known was the Sparkling Sand for his facial features looked the best in bright light. It was quite unusual to see Sander struggling to carry the box by his lonesome while the other volunteers were being helped by their Pokémon to carry these larges boxes into the store. After all Sander is a member of the Elite Four: the strongest trainers in the world next to the World Champion.
The young man grimaced, he didn’t like introductions but this was important. “Hello sir, my name is-“,
“Oh, I know who you are”, Sander said with a smirk. “I was wondering when you’d get here, come help me with this stuff then we’ll talk”.
The young man did as he was instructed and began to reach for his Poke Ball, “Ah, you don’t need your partner’s help for this”, Sander said joyfully.
“Why not?” said the young man.
“Pokémon aren’t a means to an end, why bother your precious partner for something your able to do on your own.”
The young man shrugged and began lifting the boxes out of the truck. It was dusk by the time they were done with the boxes. The young man was tired and out of patience.
“So are you here to waste my time or what”, blurted the young man. Sander just smiled knowingly.
“Alright”, he said. “The reason I asked your mother to let me fly you out here, was so I could see you first-hand, and now that I have I’m almost sure you’ll be a success.”
“But what is it that you want me to do!” the young man asked impatiently.
“Your mother didn’t tell you? I want you to have a Pokémon battle with me.”
The young man couldn’t help but laugh, he had traveled to Chicago leaving his sickly mother alone just to have this fool ask him for a Pokémon battle. “I don’t have time for your games, Sander”, the young man said with a sudden menace and began to walk away.
“If you battle me, I’m going to pay for your mother’s hospital bill”, Sander said calmly.
The young man turned around staring blankly at Sander, he didn’t get this man’s game what is he trying to accomplish through all this.
“Alright, but if I win does that mean I become a member of the Elite Four”, the young man asked jokingly. “Sure you can have my title too if you want”, Sander said with a grin.
“Fine but don’t you dare think I’m some pushover, I’ll have you know they called me the Devil’s Hand back in Cali”.
“Oh, I know all too well”.
“Then get ready Sander, I, Rem Agudelo, challenge you!”