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[ 10 Years Before Present Day ]
Winter had co to Viridian City, turning everything white with snow. The city, usually busy, now looked like a scene from a fairy tale under the night sky. Bright lights wrapped around buildings, making shadows dance on the snowy streets. The air was filled with the slls of hot cocoa and the sounds of people having fun, along with the occasional jingle of bells from a sleigh.
In the alleys, a thin owth appeared. He was a shadow of what he used to be. His coat wasn't shiny anymore, and his green eyes seed desperate. He walked carefully towards a rich-looking woman.
Mrs. Lockwood was known for her wealth. She wore a fur coat and a fancy hat with a sparkling brooch. Her blonde hair was styled perfectly, and she looked like soone important.
owth purred near her. But she reacted with disgust. "Shoo, you filthy creature!" she yelled, swinging her bag at him. owth quickly ran back into the shadows.
Inside, owth thought, "Why can't they see I'm just hungry and cold? I don't an any harm." He missed the days when he was cared for, but now he had to fend for himself.
In the cold embrace of the alleyway, owth huddled against a brick wall, holding onto the ager crumbs of bread he had managed to scavenge. His eyes, now glassy with unshed tears, trailed off into his own world each bite a bitter reminder of his hunger and loneliness.
His thoughts wandered back to his past decisions, the years he had spent learning the human language in a fruitless attempt to impress owzie.
"If only... if only..."
The silence of the alley was abruptly shattered by the clatter of trash cans falling over. Two figures erged from the snowy veil, their shapes blurred in the dim light. One was a boy with a shock of blue hair peeking out from beneath a threadbare beanie - Jas. His mismatched clothes hung loosely on his thin fra, and his eyes flickered with uncertainty. The other, a girl with a mane of fiery magenta hair, was Jessie. Her patched-up dress bore testant to her tough life, but the spark in her eyes told a tale of unyielding determination.
Jas looked at Jessie, a crease of worry etched on his face. "Jessie, I'm not sure about this." Jessie, however, flashed him a confident smile, her gaze fixed on the ragged owth.
"Trust , Jas." She pointed a gloved finger at owth, her declaration echoing in the narrow alley, "Beco my Pokémon."
The sudden demand caught owth off guard. As he blinked in confusion, Jessie swung a stick at him. His surprise swiftly morphed into anger, and before he knew it, he had let his secret slip, "What da hell was dath for?"
Imdiately, owth clamped his paws over his mouth. His heart pounded against his rib cage like a trapped Spearow. Jas and Jessie exchanged a glance, their eyes wide with disbelief before they turned their gaze back to owth, shouting in unison, "A talking Pokémon!"
"N-no!" owth stuttered, his mind reeling as he searched for an excuse. "I an, ow, ow!"
The children weren't buying it.
"Co on, spit it out! You just spoke, didn't you?"
"You're mistaken, I assure you! Just a... just a weird ow," owth argued, backing up with every word he uttered. He could feel the cold brick wall against his fur.
"A talking Pokémon... we're going to be famous..."
anwhile, Jessie's eyes lit up with avarice, dollar signs practically dancing in her pupils.
"You," she began, her voice dripping with greed, "are going to make us a lot of money."
In the back alleys of Viridian City, behind an old restaurant, Jessie and Jas had built a ho from things people threw away. They used wooden boards, old tal sheets, and colorful tarps. It wasn't perfect, but it felt warm and hopeful.
Inside, Jas was walking back and forth, worried. He looked at Jessie and then at owth, who they had tied up.
"You're going to work for us," she said, pointing at him. Her eyes showed she ant it.
owth didn't say anything. He was hurt, but not scared.
"Jessie, we should give him so food. He's weak."
"Feed him with what? We hardly have food for ourselves!"
"We could look for food in trash cans." But Jessie didn't like the idea. "In the dayti? We'd get chased away!"
They all went quiet, listening to the snow hitting their roof.
"We could use our ergency money," she said, looking at a small jar with a little bit of money in it.
"But Jessie," Jas couldn't believe it. "That's for real ergencies, like if we get sick or sothing!"
Jessie looked at owth. "If we help him now, maybe he can help us make enough money for food. Isn't that worth it?"
Jas was about to argue, but then owth spoke up. "Don't we all need food? So, what's the plan for making money?"
As dawn broke over Viridian City, the usual quiet was replaced by a growing buzz of anticipation. A crowd had gathered in the city's central square, their eyes focused on two young children - Jessie and Jas. The duo had promised a spectacle that would forever change the way trainers communicated with their Pokémon, and now, they stood in the heart of the city, eager to prove themselves.
"Ladies and gentlen, trainers of all ages," Jessie's voice rang out, piercing the morning chill, "Today, we bring you a revolutionary breakthrough - the ability to teach your Pokémon to talk!"
With a loud whistle, she signaled for owth to join them on stage. owth's appearance caused a ripple of interest through the crowd, but the real test was yet to co.
Jessie coughed to grab attention, then signaled for owth to speak. owth, however, found himself paralyzed by stage fright. A sea of faces stared at him, their expectations weighing heavily on his tiny shoulders.
Seeing owth's hesitation, Jas frowned with worry. Jessie slamd her foot down on owth's tail, eliciting a yelp of pain from the Pokémon.
"What da hell was that for?!" owth scread in surprise and pain, causing a wave of gasps to surge through the crowd.
As the astonishnt turned into chatter, doubts and amazent intermingled among the audience.
"Can it really talk?"
"Is this so sort of trick?"
"I've never seen a talking Pokémon before!"
The collective disbelief was palpable.
Turning to face the crowd, owth mustered his courage.
"Of course I can talk! Jessie and Jas ain't lying!" he asserted, silencing the crowd. The quiet was broken when a child asked, "What's my favorite Pokémon?"
To which owth retorted, "How should I know?"
Questions began to flood in, but overwheld, owth took a step back. Seizing the opportunity, Jas swiftly whisked owth off the stage.
"We taught owth to talk," she proclaid proudly, "And for just 500 Pokédollars, we can teach your Pokémon too!"
Later that afternoon, back in their makeshift ho, the trio found themselves feasting on pizza - a luxury they hadn't enjoyed in years. Jessie and Jas thanked owth for his cooperation, and he blushed, a hint of pride seeping through his typical bravado.
As they sat around their humble al, owth voiced his curiosity. "What's the plan with all these Pokéballs?"
Jessie replied, her tone nonchalant, "I know soone who'd buy them off us."
Jas and owth exchanged worried glances.
"But isn't dat a cri ? Are we going to jail for this?"
Jessie reassured them, "No, we'll be gone before the end of the month. We're not sticking around long enough to get caught."
Neither Jas nor owth looked particularly comforted by her words, but they chose to go along with the plan. After all, it was their only ticket out of the harsh life they had been living.
Jessie's destination was an unassuming establishnt hidden away in the heart of the city's labyrinthine back-alleys. A quaint pawn shop, marked only by a simple, faded sign that read "Cash for Goods," served as the sanctuary for all things discarded and unwanted.
Inside the shop, a world of trinkets, relics, and odds-and-ends awaited, presided over by an old man nad Cyril.
As Jessie stepped into the shop, the chi of the doorbell brought Cyril's gaze towards her. "Ah, if it ain't young Jessie," he drawled, his voice rough as gravel. "Co to sell
more stolen wallets, have ya?"
Jessie rolled her eyes, dropping her bag onto the counter with a thud. "Not today, Cyril. I've got sothing a bit more interesting."
The old man leaned forward, interest piqued. "Oh, is that so?"
From within the bag, Jessie produced a Pokéball, placing it carefully on the counter. The spherical object glinted under the shop's dim lights, imdiately catching Cyril's attention.
"Pokéballs, eh?" he mused aloud, his aged fingers gingerly lifting the item for closer inspection. "Not exactly rare goods, these."
Jessie shook her head, her fiery hair swaying with the motion. "These aren't your average Pokéballs, Cyril," she said, her tone confident. "Trainers paid
500 Pokédollars each, believing I could teach their Pokémon to talk."
Cyril's chuckle filled the shop, his eyes twinkling with newfound respect. "A clever sche, lass. And you expect
to find a buyer for these?"
Jessie nodded, her eyes unwavering. "I know you can, Cyril. The real question is, how much will you pay?"
Thus, the intricate dance of negotiation comnced. Cyril started low, offering a price barely higher than the standard rate for Pokéballs. Jessie balked at the offer, countering with a figure three tis his. Threats and persuasions, interspersed with the occasional hearty laughter, bounced back and forth as the pair haggled.
...
As the sun rose and set over Viridian City, the trio found themselves trapped in an exhausting but thrilling cycle. Each day was painstakingly similar to the last, yet unique in its own ways, the promise of a brighter future fueling their tireless efforts.
Morning dew on the grass of Viridian City's park marked the beginning of their routine. Jessie would command the attention of passersby, her enticing words promising an extraordinary spectacle. "Ever wanted your Pokémon to speak your language? Co witness a miracle!"
Jas would assist in drawing the crowd, his loyalty unwavering. anwhile, owth would nervously prepare for his performance, rehearsing lines under his breath.
With the stage set, owth would inevitably steal the show, his human-like speech shocking and thrilling spectators. "What's da matter? Never seen a owth who can talk?"
Afternoons were a flurry of activity, counting and recounting the day's earnings, the stack of Pokédollars growing more substantial with each passing day. Jessie would then head out, her bag filled with Pokéballs, only to return later with a weightier bag and a satisfied smile.
"Another successful trade with Cyril?"
"You bet," Jessie would answer with a grin, tossing the bag onto the pile they'd accumulated.
Days turned into weeks, the constant grind becoming an integral part of their lives. The money stacked up, their dream transitioning from a distant desire to a tangible reality. And then, finally, they had enough.
The mont they stepped foot into the grand lobby of the city center hotel, their breath hitched. The opulence was unlike anything they'd ever seen; plush carpets, crystal chandeliers, and elegant furnishings bore testimony to a world far removed from their experiences.
"Wow, Jessie," Jas mumbled, eyes wide with awe. "I can't believe we made it."
Jessie nodded. "We did, Jas. But this... this is just the beginning."
.....
It was a day that began like any other in their newfound routine, but a surprise visit from a flamboyantly dressed, elderly woman soon disrupted the monotony. Madam Rochelle, the epito of Viridian City's elite class, was a vision in her lavish silk gown. In her company was her extravagant Furfrou.
Rochelle put forth a demand rather than a request. "I've heard of your marvelous skills, teaching Pokémon to talk. I wish for my Furfrou to converse with ."
Jessie, Jas, and owth exchanged swift, nervous glances before Jessie, with her characteristic bravado, assured Rochelle they could indeed assist her cherished Pokémon. Satisfied, Rochelle departed, leaving her Furfrou in their care, with a promise to return the next day.
However, the following morning brought a storm in the form of Madam Rochelle. She burst into their luxurious hotel room, her face pale and distraught, demanding the imdiate return of her beloved Furfrou. "I cannot endure another mont without my Furfrou! I demand him back, this instant!"
Jas tried to mollify her. "Madam Rochelle, we assure you, Furfrou will be back with you by tomorrow."
Their fears began to mount, however, as they sensed the precariousness of their situation, the looming threat of their exposure becoming increasingly evident. And soon enough, their worst fears were realized. rely hours later, Rochelle returned, the local police force in tow. The elaborate fa??ade they'd constructed crumbled, as they were apprehended, their hidden stash of Pokéballs discovered, and their elaborate ruse unveiled.
....
In Viridian City, night had co and Jessie, Jas, and owth were in jail. Jessie was crying. "Jas... owth... I'm sorry. It's my fault we're here..."
Jas tried to comfort her. "We're a team, Jessie. We stick together, right?"
Their talk was cut short when the cell door opened loudly. The police chief ca in with soone else - Giovanni.
"These are the ones I told you about, sir," said the chief to Giovanni.
Then he left them alone in the cell.
Giovanni looked around the cell before he spoke. "I've noticed you three. I have a job for you."
Jas was curious. "A job?"
"Yes," Giovanni replied. "Join Team Rocket."
Jessie looked at him bravely. "What if we say no?"
Giovanni smiled a little. "Then enjoy your ti in this cell. It's not as nice as a hotel."
....
"We should have said no," Jessie think to myself, looking back.
After eting Giovanni, life for Jas, owth, and her changed.
The next few years were tough. They had to either steal Pokémon from trainers or catch wild Pokémon and train them so Team Rocket could sell them.
The trio did many things for Team Rocket. They even joined Nurse Joy's dical School to steal Chanseys. They beca part of local bike gangs, only to steal their Pokémon later. Stealing was sothing they had to do, even though they didn't like it.
The truo didn't have any other options. They couldn't leave Team Rocket - they were too powerful in Kanto. All they could do was follow their orders.
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[ 10 Years Later ]
owth woke up in a car, confused. Outside, he heard jungle sounds, very different from what he was used to. He saw Jessie and Jas in front, looking serious. This was not like their usual life with Team Rocket.
"What's goin' on here?" owth asked. "Why are we in da jungle? Aren't we supposed to be in Saffron City?"
Jessie and Jas didn't answer right away.
owth felt uneasy.
"How long was I asleep? Don't tell
you left the mission. We can't betray Team Rocket."
Finally, Jessie spoke quietly. "I found my mother, owth."
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[Omake Paragraph]
To the partisans of Kyogre in the great eternal war which literally shapes Hoenn, Wingull is also known as the bird of victory.
Wingull spend their days flying above either the open ocean or those perpertual battlefields between land and sea called beaches. Whenever a wild Wingull is carried inland by wind currents or simply explores too far in that direction, it is almost always shot down and killed by Groudon worshipers, who fear their use in reconnaissance and espionage and despise them for being water pokemon. Team Aqua and its predecessors have historically used Wingull spies, after all, although they were far better trained in stealth than their wild counterparts.
Wingull is called the bird of victory because the only ti when they can venture inland unhard is after the sea triumphs over the land in battle. With no one left who is capable of knocking them out of the skies, their long, white, blue-striped wings take on the character of a flag of triumph, soaring triumphantly over the ho of a vanquished foe who can offer no further resistance.
But although pokemon and trainers fighting for Kyogre and Groudon wage war again and again, the sea rely gains or loses territory; it never disappears or becos strong enough to swallow Hoenn whole. Until the forces of Groudon regroup and rejuvenate, the victorious corsairs loot at will, and none do better than Wingull, the great pirates of the avian world. While whole cities, their armies beaten, move themselves inland to survive, these pokemon take their chance to loot everything from valuable jewels to poke balls in their long beaks. And then the Wingull carry their loot away, either to ransom it back for food or to line their opulent nests, and they wait for water's next conquest.
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