natalie-plays

[natalie-plays]

The First Gym || The First Lesson

When you’re five years old and not too sure of how your own world works, let alone the smaller, simpler one inside your yellow GameBoy cartridge, any small task can prove impossible. Any accomplishment can prove a miracle.

Viridian forest was a formidable maze to my child mind, especially since my Pikachu had been poisoned halfway through. He hung on for dear life as I stumbled my way through the woods, falling for every trap and wrong turn. In those days, every step whittled down the hp of a poisoned Pokemon, dropping that number to zero and fainting your Pokemon if you didn’t do anything about it.

I made it to the front desk of Pewter City’s Pokemon Center with 1hp to spare. After the nurse fixed up Pikachu and the rest, I was free to claim my reward: the chance to explore my my new surroundings. Pewter City proved to be more or less a letdown. The only exciting part of the city is the museum, and five-year-old me wasn’t interested in looking at on-screen exhibits. She was interested in catching more Pokemon.

My team was littered with common first-route specimens: Caterpie, Pidgey, Rattata. The usual suspects. I wanted something cool, like on TV, and I knew I wasn’t going to find it here. I headed east, to leave the lifeless Pewter City behind and find the next patch of tall grass.

Just before I made it out, a local stopped me and told me I was going the wrong way. He told me I had to face Brock, the gym leader of their fine city.

I wished I could have assured him that no, I did not want to face Brock. Professor Oak sent me on a mission to complete my Pokedex. So unless there was an entry to be gained on the Pewter Gym Leader, I wasn’t interested. But before I had the chance to say any of it, the stranger led me across town and left me at the front doors of the gym. I shrugged and tried to exit the town again. The guy stopped me again, brought me to the gym again. I tried it several more times with the same result. It seemed this man would not be satisfied until I beat Brock, and so began my first experience with the level check mechanic.

Brock smashed through my team again and again. Even though my rag-tag team of normal and electric types could scrape by Geodude, Onix carelessly tossed the survivors to the side every time. Over and over I would black out, end up at the Pokemon center, heal up my party, and try again. Over and over Brock would crush the dreams of a five-year-old trainer. 

But it was Oak’s dream I couldn’t give up on just yet. I had to catch them all, and I would never be able to if I did not leave Pewter City. And I would never leave Pewter City if I could not defeat Brock. It was time to regroup.

I returned to the city limits, just outside of Viridian Forest (I didn’t dare go back in). I met Pidgey after Pidgey in that patch of grass and used Thundershock on every single one. Pikachu’s level skyrocketed, and I marched back up to Brock to show him what was what.

I wish I could tell you that was enough, but you already know the answer. Pikachu’s attacks just weren’t working. His Thundershock had no effect, and his Tackle wasn’t much better. Brock wiped the floor with me for what seemed like the millionth time and I, dejected, returned to the city limits to lick my wounds.

This wasn’t fair, I told myself. If I’d gotten Red or Blue version, I would have picked Squirtle or even Bulbasaur and made quick work of that smug rock-type trainer. I stood still for a while, staring at the mouth of the cave I could not reach and hoped that a Squirtle would just pop out of it, like how in the show Ash always seemed to get the Pokemon he needed most at just the right time.

No Squirtle came.

With no player’s guide, no family, and no phone to access the assistance of my friends, I was completely on my own for this one. I marched back into that patch of grass and got my hands dirty, leveling up my rats and birds until their stats dwarfed those of Brock’s Pokemon. It took hours. It was really boring. This was my first experience with level grinding.

At the end of this story, I did beat Brock. I didn’t search for a new solution to the problem. I brute forced it, beating him with only normal and flying-type attacks. This isn’t a story about thinking creatively. It’s a story about perseverance and growth.

Were there better solutions to the problem? Yes. But at the time it was the only one I could come up with. I am better at Pokemon now (but not by much). I know how to defeat Brock without too much trouble. And every time I do, I think of how much work I had to do to make it to this point. The grinding of five-year-old me laid the foundation for all of the other mes who refused to meet the same fate.

There are other aspects of my life, both in and out of game, that make me feel like I’m bashing my head against a wall repeatedly. Programming, searching for jobs, trying to fish in Sun and Moon. Sometimes my only means of fixing the problem is getting down to business like I did on Route 2. And when that’s the case, the only thing that gets me through is knowing that someday I’m going to laugh about it, and maybe make an embarrassing blog post about how poorly I went about solving the problem.

[natalie-plays]

A Topical Discussion of the Effects of the Moon on Kanto

Each town in Kanto has one thing that sets it apart. The people of Cerulean are proud that Pokemaniac Bill lives relatively close to them. Viridian dwellers, surrounded by the constant threat of poison-type pokemon, probably bathe in antidote and repel and don't think twice about it. And the people of Pewter? They're just really, really into the moon.

An entire floor of Pewter's two-floor museum is dedicated to space travel, and according to the attendant the exhibit is new ("We have a space exhibit now"). A senior citizen fondly remembers the lunar landing (which apparently took place on the same day it did in our universe ). The Space Shuttle Columbia stands proudly on display (although it doesn't exist in our world anymore). In our world, both the 1969 Lunar Landing and the Columbia shuttle were the work of NASA, an American organization. But whoever did these things in their universe, it wasn't the people of Kanto. And it definitely wasn't the people of Pewter City. For all their obsession with space, there's no actual space station or research center. So why are they so obsessed with space?

One item on display in their space exhibit holds the answer: the object they claim is a meteor, fallen from space. It's a Moon Stone, obtained from the mountain that separates Pewter City from its neighbor Cerulean to the east.

In all the Pokemon World, there are only six pokemon currently known to evolve upon exposure to a Moon Stone. Four of them are found in Kanto, relatively close to Mt. Moon. Jigglypuff is found right at the base of the mountain while Clefairy is found throughout.

In certain areas of the mountain the moon can be viewed clearly. And when it is full, Clefairy come out in droves to dance around and celebrate, a ritual still largely not understood by humans. Clefairy aren't found in many other places, and when they are it's in mountainous regions that share as special of a connection with space as Mt. Moon does (e.g. Meteor Falls, or Mt. Coronet).

While humans may have not made it to outer space until 1969, it's entirely possible that pokemon have been making the journey long before we even dreamed of space travel. The Pokemon anime implicates Clefairy as extraterrestrial species. Considering the species' obsession with the moon, we can assume that this is the case.

But the assumption that Clefairy are from space begs us to ask why their exposure to space rocks triggers evolution. Exposure to the moon stone allows Clefairy to mature the way it would if it were still in space. Perhaps Clefairy itself (or even Cleffa) is an earth-like mutation, the species adapting to its surroundings.

But what of the other Pokemon that evolve from moon stones, specifically the Nidoran line? These Pokemon don't have any noticeable connection to space, and they resemble other species of the area. This is an example of the reverse happening: the DNA of a native earth species adapting to exposure from space. Not every Pokemon reacts to moon stones, though. Not even Eevee, which has the least stable genetic makeup out of all known Pokemon. What gives?

It helps to remember that Eevee is most likely not a Pokemon native to Kanto (you can't catch it anywhere in the wild), but most Pokemon that evolve via moon stone are. Over time, generations of Nidoran and Jigglypuff have evolved to adapt to the exposure of moon stone radiation. Perhaps, if they are not aliens, they are some of the oldest native species of Kanto, because they have gone through this adaptation process where others (such as Zubat or Paras or Mankey) have not. Perhaps they just have the right stuff when it comes to DNA.

We've spent a lot of time on Moon Stones, but it's also worth pointing out that the moon doesn't need to drop stones on the planet to mess with it. While Eevee doesn't evolve by Moon Stone, the Pokedex does say that moonlight is what scrambled Eevee's DNA into Umbreon's. Lunatone is observed most active when the moon is full. And, as we can see from recent reports, Alola is most definitely a hotbed for moon-based activity (and sun-based!). Pewter and Kanto's connection to the moon is just one thing it has with the destination of our newest adventure. 

We’ll get to the rest in a little under 17 days.

[natalie-plays]

You can do that

Since the #Pokemon20 Super Bowl ad was released, I’ve been thinking a lot about the angle that they’re playing here. Young people being inspired by each other, believing in themselves, and achieving their own dreams has been a theme of the Pokemon franchise since the very beginning. But “You can do that” has been a sentiment found in Pokemon games before this commercial put it into words.

And it starts with my most favorite character in the whole series, who I had the honor of running into in Pewter the other day: Gym Guy. 

We don’t know much about Gym Guy, save for the fact that he really knows his stuff and his one vice is gambling. He really really wants to help, to the extent that even if you refuse his offer he tells you, “It’s a free service!” before giving you the advice anyway. 

In fact, most people you meet are a lot like this. An NPC in Pewter City remarks that even though most of the trainers that come to challenge Brock are all Bug Catchers, Brock is “totally into it.” It doesn’t matter to him that these kids have late-blooming Metapod who can only harden until their exterior matches that of his Onyx. Brock is so in love with what he does that the last thing he wants to do is keep it to himself. Pokemon are just so cool that the culture has to be shared with everyone he meets.

Everyone wants to help you out. The Relatable Guy from Viridian City shows you how to catch Pokemon (after he’s had his morning coffee). Trainers will offer you advice upon defeat. There’s really only one dude who ever gives you trouble for not knowing how to do something, and he’s portrayed as kind of a douche anyway. 

What I’m trying to say about this is that in the Pokemon universe, Gatekeepers aren’t really a problem (unless you’re trying to get to Saffron City, I suppose). There are no extreme circumstances you have to face to earn your place in the Pokemon community. You simply just have to stay in the ring.

What is a Gatekeeper? To put it simply, they are the one who asks you to “name five of their albums” upon noting the name of the band on your t-shirt. They’re the one who reminds you that they have enjoyed or known about a thing longer than you have. They try to use fandom or knowledge to gain some sort of status or power within a community when, in reality, that’s not how this sort of thing is supposed to work. 

Since 1996, the creators of Pokemon have been smashing that idea into tiny bits, and I’m pleased to say I feel like the community surrounding them has been following suit for a long time now.

The first time I ever tried my hand at competitive battling, I was fourteen years old. I made my mother drive me out to a tournament two hours away from my house. Everyone there was a blast to be with. I went up against a lot of guys who were all older than me, but not one of them made me feel like I didn’t belong there (not even the one who beat me). In fact, everyone was too excited to even be there and see the Pokemon-themed decorations to really notice there was much of a competition going on at all. This blurry photo is fresh from my first and only win at that tournament. Note the Squirtle under my arm!

Since 2010, I’ve been going to a tiny, college-based anime convention in Hoboken, New Jersey. They have a Pokemon League at the convention, made up of mostly students and alumni. In my high school days, I’d follow my friend’s little brother around and help him collect badges from the Gym Leaders there. Win or lose, everyone was just happy to be playing Pokemon. Now that I’m grown I go to school there and give out badges myself, and I’m still just happy to be playing Pokemon.

From the forums I’ve frequented to the pockets of online batters to the RP community right here on Tumblr, I’ve never once felt like someone was inhibiting me from learning or doing anything. Even when I’d lose a lot online, the people in that specific room would keep requesting matches with me until I beat them. My friends online have always supported my writing and world building, and it makes me happier than I think they know. I know I’ve played Gatekeeper in the past, whether I noticed it at the time or not. We’ve all done it. But it feels so much better when you don’t do that. I want to be Brock, or the Gym Guy. If we build each other up, we can get to the top faster than we could alone.

The creators of Pokemon have done more than just create a game. They’ve created an environment in which it is almost impossible to feel discouraged. Give a listen to any of the theme songs from the Pokemon anime, or anything off of 2BA Master (hottest record of the 90s, hands down). They’ve been telling us we could do this for years. 

So go out and achieve your dreams. Believe in yourself in the way the creators of Pokemon taught us how. You can do that. We all know you can.

[natalie-plays]

The State of Affairs in Kanto

There was one thing that struck me about Oak’s Lab that I did not remember (or otherwise didn’t catch) from previous playthroughs. If you check his email, he’s got a letter from the Elite Four:

Calling all Pokemon trainers! The elite trainers of Pokemon League are ready to take on all comers! Bring your best Pokemon and see how you rate as a trainer!

Pokemon League HQ Indigo Plateau PS: Prof. Oak, please visit us!

(Ignore the fact that he looks absolutely pissed I’m snooping on his computer)

There’s something about having to advertise over email that you are “ready” to take on trainers that implies that you very recently weren’t ready, which means the Indigo Elite Four is a fairly recent thing. 

But we already suspected that. Blue won’t have to fight anybody to become Champion, which means there was no champion before him. Lance is a tough guy, but there’s no way that he’s gone undefeated for a long period of time only to be taken down by two ten-year-old boys right in a row. They were simply the first to make it there.

The infancy of the Tohjo Elite Four may also be why we see such a huge turnover in the three years that follow its creation. Agatha and Lorelei leave, and Lance takes Red’s place as Champion. Disorganization is a common symptom of brand new establishments. Perhaps that was what drove Agatha, Lorelei, and Red from the organization. Or maybe they just weren’t up for the jobs after spending enough time with them. I’m sure all three characters had their reasons for leaving, but I can’t rule out the possibility that it had something to do with the concept of the Elite Four being relatively new.

Growing up I had believed that Blue being the First Champion was just an oversight in storytelling. It felt like a new concept because beyond the Fourth Wall it was a new concept. But seeing this email, now I realize that this was intentional from the start. And even though introducing a new concept to a world is a great plot device for introducing that same concept to your audience, it raises some serious questions.

How long has it been between the invention of Pokemon Battling for sport and the creation of the Kanto Pokemon League? Is battling Pokemon a relatively new thing too? Signs point to no. A few characters have throwaway lines about how Professor Oak was quite the talented Pokemon Trainer in his youth. So although the Pokemon League began after Oak’s retirement, the focus of it existed long before.

Most importantly: if this hasn’t been going on until recently, where did the idea come from? And why now?

The idea that the Pokemon League is a fairly recent thing for Kanto gets stranger and stranger as we are shown more and more of the Pokemon World. With each installment of the main series, the Pokemon League becomes less of a new thing and more of an institution. Check out Kalos’s Pokemon League.

This castle is old, perhaps even predating the modern age. The Kalos league, like all other leagues besides Kanto’s, already has a champion. But Kalos’s castle is easily the oldest-looking structure that houses an Elite Four. Perhaps Kalos has one of the oldest (if not the oldest) Pokemon Leagues around. It may even serve as a model for other leagues. This may begin to answer where this concept came from. The why is a little more complex.

It is important to examine what the Pokemon League is for. As we know, the Pokemon League is not made up of just the Elite Four. Although it is clear that the four of them are in charge, and that they have no trouble ceding their power to a trainer who can defeat all four of them in quick succession, their power extends to eight gyms stationed across Kanto (and eight more in its neighboring region of Johto, which we find out a generation later).

Through these gyms, the league regulates the distribution of badges, which, among other things, grant trainers the ability to use certain moves that make exploration easier (Surf, Fly, Cut, etc). In other words, most privileges in this world come with increased aptitude for battling and handling Pokemon.

In return, citizens of Kanto are protected (in theory). People who have no experience with Pokemon are kept from engaging in risky behavior (e.g. surfing/flying on the back of a Pokemon). They are not allowed in areas deemed too dangerous for them (Cerulean Cave). This is indicative of some sort of social contract between the league and the citizens of Kanto. If the Pokemon League isn't the head of government in Kanto and Johto, it certainly is a prominent branch.

But, as stated above, it is also a new branch. A government lacking in experience is bound to make all kinds of mistakes. And therein lies the source of many of the problems you encounter in-game: A disorganized government leads to the rise of organized crime. Lax leadership breeds lax laborers and ruins infrastructure. Make no mistake; the infamous Team Rocket that runs rampant in these parts of the world did not flourish on its own. The success of that institution is rooted deeply in the failure of government at the regional level.

There may be more clues that point towards the origin of the state of Kanto and the circumstances in which I found myself when this game dropped me into a small bedroom in quiet Pallet Town. If they exist, you can be sure I will post them here. 

[natalie-plays]

The First Steps

There isn’t much I remember about life before Pokemon: bits and pieces of preschool, a circus-themed birthday party, and my old dog Bailey. I remember waking up early one Saturday morning with nothing to do and bothering the heck out of my sleeping mother. Groggily, she turned on the television to the first cartoon she could find before rushing back to her bedroom.

I didn’t understand why there were plant dinosaurs joining their voices in song on a moonlit night, but it all seemed too fantastic for words. I waited a full week until the next Saturday morning, and I watched the show again. And again. And every Saturday morning for the next five years.

I recently looked up the date of this monumental occasion. It was April 3, 1999. I was four years old. Bill Clinton was the president. Cher’s Believe was at the top of the charts. None of that stuff mattered to me more than this Bulbasaur evolution ritual.

And while I didn’t get my hands on the game until over a year later, something in me changed. The world was no longer about going to school and coming home. Now there were other places to go. Now there was adventure to be had.

I grabbed my bug-catching net and vest and creeped about the house, pretending there were Pokemon hiding in every room. (It did not surprise me to learn years later that Satoshi Tajiri’s idea for Pokemon came out of a passion for bug catching.) My adventure companion was, of course, a giant stuffed Pikachu. His origins are lost to my memory, but he proved to be the most faithful and trustworthy of friends. When it was late and I couldn’t get to sleep, he would stay up just for me, and we’d go off exploring, meeting all different kinds of Pokemon. Most of the time these were just reenactments of the last episode I’d seen. Sometimes Pikachu would fall in love with a wild young forest-dweller and consider giving up the raucous life of the adventurer, and I’d perform all sides of the gripping, heart-wrenching dialogue right there, in my bed, with all my other stuffed animals to watch.

The thought that you are somewhere else where anything can happen is a powerfully addictive thought. When Oak told me that “a world of dreams and adventures with Pokemon awaits,” I took it very seriously, and I am ready to seize another one of those adventures for myself now.

So today, I start my very first Pokemon Journey all over again. At Oak’s lab, I chose Squirtle because that’s the starter I’ve used the least in all my times playing. I named him Cooper. You can learn more about Cooper and all the Pokemon I’ve obtained by accessing Someone’s PC.

Turning it on, the game didn’t feel different like I thought it would. It’s still the same old Pallet Town, same old neighbors who don’t know my name despite the fact that I live in one of the only three buildings in the entire town, same old Samuel Oak projecting his failed dreams and aspirations onto me. As someone who grew up in a small town (albeit not quite as small), it feels like home. 

Probably my favorite part about Pallet Town is that there’s really only one place to go: up.

Pallet is the only town in Kanto that has only one way in or out on foot, and you don’t get to explore the seas to the south until you’ve already gotten your adventuring credentials. That makes it a perfect place to leave from, start an adventure, and capture Pokemon. Nowhere to go but forward, fearlessly, forever. (Never mind that the power of this is lost when the game forces you to return to Pallet to deliver Oak’s parcel immediately after reaching Viridian for the first time)

But that exit also serves as an entrance, and I don’t doubt that was a huge factor in Oak choosing a spot for his lab. Pallet isn’t exactly a place people stumble upon on their way to somewhere else. While Viridian may get lots of through traffic from the Indigo Plateau, and the Viridian-Celadon-Saffron area is just one gigantic hub of activity, Pallet is removed from all of that. A perfect place to settle down, start a family, and research Pokemon. Oak certainly has the life. No wonder he’s trying to get me to do his work for him!

It’s a good thing I don’t mind. Pallet was structured to draw you out of it. The game relies on your desire to enter the tall grass to have Oak stop you and push the narrative forward. Red’s mom even tells him before he goes, “All boys leave home someday. It said so on TV.” The kid was born and bred to be a Pokemon master, and with my help (and Cooper’s water gun) he’s gonna get there.