WAAPT: The Forum

CW: 09/11/01 mentioned

THE BRAKER TIMELINE

ARC 1: THE PRE-GALAR AND GALAR ARC

CHAPTER 1

9/11/01, Wyndon

This wasn’t the Braker family’s first time having seen a Unovan tragedy. 

Elijah Braker’s adoptive Unovan father, Donald, had been there at the scene in Driftveil City when the Unovan president, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, had been assassinated in front of millions of people when driving along in a motorcade. His father had relayed the story to him well: he’d gotten so choked up on the news that day that he openly cried talking about what he had seen. Elijah thought it was a bit of a pity that Donald had had no Pokemon; they definitely could have helped him after he had gone through something like that. Even so, the story touched him so much that when he eventually married his future wife Maria McCullough, a Crown Tundraner, and the two of them had a kid together, he named said kid in part after the deceased president.

He named his child Leonard Kennedy Braker, who was at the moment… not doing much of anything, really, except staring at the family’s television screen with very little emotion on his face. That was, of course, the complete opposite of his father, who was glancing at the screen with his jaw dropped, watching in horror as clips played of members of Team Plasma destroying the Battle Company, with a Latias and Latios shooting off Dragon Pulses and Ghetsis’ Hydreigon launching a Tri Attack that froze the top of the building. People were running out of the Battle Company for their lives, planes were running into it, and all the while Elijah continued watching, transfixed with horror; his eyes widening; his breath catching in his throat… 

“MARIA! MARIA, GET DOWN ‘ERE! YOU NEED TO SEE WHAT’S ON THE BLOODY TELLY!” 

There was a pause from upstairs, before a Black Crown Tundraner with messy long brown hair and blue eyes frantically came running downstairs into the living room, dressed as practically always in her pink Crown Tundra parka, black pants, and bright blue sneakers. She looked around for a few moments, practically rattling things off a mile a minute and barely even seeming to pay attention to the television. 

“Wha’?” she asked frantically. “Wha’ is it; did Cir United finally win the–” 

“No, nothin’ about that,” said Elijah, practically out of breath as he pointed at the television. “Look what’s happenin’ in Unova.”

“Unova?” asked Maria, laughing a bit. “Why d’we need ta worry about Unova; we haven’t been there in–” 

And then she saw the destruction on the television and her eyes widened in shock. 

“...oh,” she said simply. 

Elijah nodded gravely. 

Dumbfounded and horrified, Maria went over to the couch to sit down, and the two of them continued to watch the news for about 10 more minutes, neither one of them saying a word. They watched, struck, as headlines reading BATTLE COMPANY DESTROYED BY PLASMA; TENS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE AND POKEMON KILLED flashed at them on the screen. 

Their son, meanwhile, was still watching the news and all of its devastation with what one would initially assume to be no emotion whatsoever– though this had been fairly common with him despite him being only 3 years old. In truth, however, he was feeling some level of emotion, though what it was he didn’t quite know. Sadness, yes. Fear, yes. Anger… well, he didn’t have any real idea yet as to who Team Plasma were, so he didn’t really feel any anger, but all of a sudden he wanted to know more. Clearly they didn’t like the Battle Company, for some reason– likely because they didn’t like battles– but why didn’t they like battles? Even more puzzling than that, he noticed that both of his parents– who were still staring in shock at the telly– were crying, for some reason, as if they had had some kind of connection to the Battle Company. And yet, how could a company devoted to Pokemon battling have that much of an impact on his parents, neither of whom had any Pokemon– or, for that matter, an impact on every other person on the planet? Especially those that didn’t really battle that much, since he knew that those people existed–  he knew his parents, after all. 

None of it really made that much sense to him. And he wanted to know more. 

After around 10 minutes of staring had passed, Leonard Braker suddenly heard movement coming from behind him; Elijah and Maria had shifted. A bit uncomfortably, at that. The two of them slowly stared at each other, not sure what to do or say, before Maria spoke first.

“...Doesn’t your father work there?” she asked. 

“Yeah, ‘e does,” said Elijah, his breath still a bit caught in his throat. “I’ve got to give ‘im a call. See if ‘e’s safe and all that.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Maria. “Wouldn’t want to know the worst has happened.” 

Choking back a few sobs, and with great panic, Elijah stood up and started looking for the phone in an attempt to try and call his father. Braker, meanwhile, looked up at his father and blinked, slowly coming to a bit of a realization. That was right. His grandfather did live in Unova, and work at the Battle Company. He was starting to get a bit concerned now. Granted, not too concerned, but definitely a bit. He at the very least hoped his grandfather was alright, especially  given the fact that he didn’t have any Pokemon of his own.

After a few more moments, he saw Elijah come forward, with tears in his eyes, holding the phone, which was attached to a long spiraly-looking cord. Elijah hit a few buttons, and within seconds, a ringing sound emerged from the phone; Maria looked over at Elijah with great concern evident on her face. Elijah held the phone up to his ears, all while Braker tried to multitask, his eyes flipping between his concerned father and the immense destruction that was occurring on the television, intercut between stern, serious-looking newscasters intoning the grave news as if they hadn’t just been witness to a national tragedy.

Ring. Ring. Ring…

“...Hello?” Elijah asked, his voice trembling. “Dad? You there…?”

From Braker’s perspective there was absolute silence, but the immense sigh of relief that Elijah let out after the silence had ended told Braker everything he needed to know. Good, his grandfather was alive. Now back to the news… 

While Braker was fixated, Maria heard the sigh of relief and lit up instantly.

“‘E… ‘e’s alrigh’?!” she asked. “Is tha’ wha’ yer sayin’?!”

Elijah nodded in Maria’s direction, and the latter grinned.

“Oh, that’s a relief to ‘ear!” she said.

Elijah momentarily nodded, before turning his attention back to his phone conversation with his father.

“So, you got out of there…?” he began. 

Maria was watching the whole thing with relief and worry for a few moments, trying to focus on her husband’s conversation with his father– only for her mind to suddenly wander all of a sudden as she turned her attention back to her son, who was absolutely engrossed in a world that, in Maria’s opinion, he didn’t really need to be engrossed into at that age. The screen was cutting back and forth between droning newscasters and endless amounts of death and destruction, but Maria just knew she wanted her son to just… be a kid. That was something he’d never really been that interested in doing, really. Her son loved to read, but didn’t really enjoy doing things like playing with toys, even when he was a baby. His main concerns were “sleep”, “eat”, “learn to crawl”, “learn to walk”, and then– once all that was done– “learn to read”, something he was still doing at that moment. Sure, she was proud of him for all of those moments, but it almost seemed like Braker wanted to work more than he wanted to play– and now, here he was, watching endless amounts of destruction and horror on the news and not being scared by it in the least.

From behind her, Maria could hear the conversation between Elijah and his father continue:

“...where are you at now?

“...huh. Really?...

“...well, glad to see you’re safe, anyways. Hope you have fun at Mum’s….

“...Oh, no, don’t worry; we’re fine.”

Eventually, Maria shrugged. It sounded like everything was going well. Turning her attention back onto her son for the moment, she grabbed the remote control. 

“Now, now, Len,” she said, “are you sure ya wanna watch this? You’re only 3 years old, sweetie; you should watch something fun instead!”

Braker just stared up at her, seemingly uninterested. Maria promptly grabbed the remote control  and switched the channel; within a few moments Binka began to play on the screen. Braker stared at it for a few moments, almost as if he didn’t know what to think, before eventually responding with three words:

“Change it back.”

Maria blanched.

“‘Change it back?!’” she blurted out. “A-are you sure? There’s a lot of things you won’t be ready for that are on that screen, Lenny.”

“Change it back,” Braker repeated, nodding. 

Maria blinked for a few moments, looking back and forth between the cute fat Galarian Meowth on the screen and Braker himself, before eventually shrugging.

“Alrigh’ then,” she said. “If that’s what you want to do.”


She hit another button on the remote, and soon afterwards the news came back on, with all its headlines and destruction intact. Braker nodded, then resumed his watch. From behind her, Maria heard Elijah breathe another sigh of relief, followed by a slam; when she turned back to face her husband, he had gotten off of the phone.

“Well?”  she asked. “‘Ow did it go?” 

“He’s alright,” said Elijah happily. “Left before Team Plasma even got there; saw a Latias and left within seconds. He doesn’t think some of his colleagues were so lucky, though.”

“‘E’s with your mum now?” asked Maria. 

“Yep,” said Elijah. 

He turned back to face the television, only to blink when he saw what was on.

“The news is back on?” he asked. “I thought you turned it off so that Len could watch Binka .” 

“I did,” said Maria, looking towards her son, “but… he wanted to watch the news.” 

Elijah blanched a bit, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“He wanted to watch the news?!” he cried. “He wants to watch all that destruction? You sure that’ll be good for ‘im?”

Maria shrugged. “It was what he wanted.” 

Elijah paused for a few more seconds, then shook his head in disbelief before exhaling.

“A-alright, then,” he said. “I just… don’t want him to be traumatized too much by this, y’know?”

“Ah, ‘e’ll be fine!” said Maria. “He’s still got lots of time ta watch other shows; what’s the worst that can happen? I didn’t think he was ready to see that stuff on the screen, but apparently he is; and he’s only 3 years old.” 

She sighed.

“But yeah… I get what you mean,” she said. “I hope things don’t turn out too badly for him, either.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The events that followed over the next 7 years of Braker’s life would, to any normal parent, not be considered “too badly” at all; as a matter of fact, if someone who wasn’t Braker’s parents had looked at him, they would have deemed him a child prodigy and someone who was incredibly smart and mature for his age. 

From that fateful day in 2001, Leonard Braker became absolutely obsessed with the news, and finding out as much information as he could about the events that were going on in the world. Nothing at all fazed him; not destruction, not death, not anything else, and very quickly he began to develop some very mature and complex perspectives on life that would make most people do a double take. At 7 years old he developed a celebrity crush on Anderson Cooper, and that was how he realized he was gay; he came out then and there and his family, of course, supported him. As the years went by he became so obsessed with reporting the news that he made a family newspaper, and would give it to all of their neighbors; this continued weekly. Before he had even entered middle school he had already decided he wanted to be a journalist. 

And he was exceptionally hardworking. He took notes on every single thing he saw and rarely used the computer for note-taking even once. He bought encyclopedia after encyclopedia and went to the library numerous times a day. He was exceptional in school, and teachers praised him repeatedly. Any other parent would have been showing off their child and calling them the next big thing. Any other parent would have been drowning in accolades and posting pictures on social media. Braker and his family lived in Wyndon; people would absolutely want to see this.

But Elijah and Maria Braker were not most parents.

They absolutely loved and supported their son and were willing to do whatever they could to support him, but they kept noticing every time their son left school and did his homework that he would then spend time watching the news and continuing to take notes and do work. They offered to play games with him; watch a television show with him; do something with him, and every single time, Braker would always respond with the same thing:

“I’d love to, but I can’t. Too much work to do.” 

Braker, of course, meant no offense by this, and his parents understood that, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still concerned. Sometimes Braker would have fun days at school, and his parents would be incredibly happy for him. 

“Wasn’t that fun?” they would ask, and Braker would respond:

“It was fun, in the moment, but I would much rather be doing work. Death is going to get us all eventually; can’t have fun for very long.”  

And then he would go upstairs and immediately get to work on his homework, and his parents would just stare at each other in equal parts concern and pride for their son. Clearly, they figured, he had a thing for the news, and was very obsessed with journalism and getting the latest stories, but it was practically the only thing he enjoyed doing. He also, funnily enough, did not enjoy fictional shows; he found them too unrealistic and immature for the most part. That being said, however, there was one major exception to the rule: a show that started airing in 2002 called Galamory, which he absolutely adored to no end. If he wasn’t watching the news, he was watching it– but eventually he outgrew Galamory and just switched straight to the news. 

Of course, the one thing people were wondering during this time was what would happen when Braker would turn 10, and what his first Pokemon was going to be. His parents were wondering it too; they knew that you could get a Pokemon license and a Pokemon anytime after he turned 10, but given how much work he was putting himself under, they figured that he wouldn’t live up to the expectations of his neighbors and family members.  

Which was a shame; they– especially Maria–  wanted Braker to get a Pokemon. 

They wanted him to have fun.  

But Braker, so it seemed, already knew what he wanted to do in life– and all that was confirmed when he turned 10 years old.  

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

8/19/08, Wyndon 

On the morning of August 19th, 2008, ten-year-old Leonard Braker woke up to find a massive surprise waiting for him. Upon him coming down the stairs, he was absolutely shocked to find him being greeted by his absolutely ecstatic parents, who had already prepared for him a massive cake decorated to look like a newspaper, with the headline LEONARD BRAKER 10 YEARS OF AGE; ELIGIBLE FOR FIRST POKÉMON on it in big bold lettering. There were also a ton of newspaper balloons, as well as the GBC being on. Nobody else had come to the party; Braker didn’t really have any friends. The most surprising thing of all, at least to Braker, was the fact that in the middle of the room, underneath the cake, was a glass container holding a ton of PokeBalls. 

“SURPRISE!” they cried out. “Happy birthday, Lenny!” 

Braker looked around for a few moments, not knowing what to think, before eventually bursting out into a grin and running towards his parents.

“Thank you,” he said eventually. “I love it so much! Especially the newspaper; how on Earth did you manage to make the headline that bold?!” 

He approached the cake a bit more, only to break out into an even bigger grin when he saw the rest of the cake. 

“More than that, even,” he said, “how did you make the text legible ?!” 

Maria smiled. 

“We got a bit o’ ‘elp from a local cake decorator,” she said. 

“Well, at any rate, I absolutely adore it,” he said. “That being said, though, can we eat the cake and open the presents after lunch? Later on after dinner I’ll be making a newspaper for the event.” 

“Of course,” said Elijah. “Still trying to work hard as always.” 

“Then after that I have homework to do,” continued Braker, “then a trip to the library to get more journalism books, and journalism business books, and—”

“Wait a second,” said Maria, suddenly interrupting. “Journalism business books?” 

“Yeah,” said Braker. 

Maria and Elijah took a look over at the giant container of PokeBalls. 

“You’re going to go into a journalism business?” Elijah asked. 

“Well, not right away, but I at least want to prepare for it,” said Braker. “Oh, and I also want to learn how to invest in stocks and what-not so that I can make enough money to get into a good journalism school in the future so neither of you have to work harder than you already are to pay.” 

“Give yourself a break, sweetie!” Maria laughed. “Haven’t you done enough?” 

“No,” Braker responded simply.

Maria and Elijah glanced at each other. 

“Well… alright, then,” said Elijah. “If that’s what you want to do, we’ll take you to the library as soon as you have your cake.” 

“Thanks,” said Braker, smiling. “Oh, and while I do appreciate the offer… I don’t want a Pokémon.” 

Maria looked down, heartbroken, while Elijah just winced. 

“You… don’t?” Maria asked.

Braker shook his head. “I don’t want it to be compounded with all the other responsibilities I’ll eventually have to do. With all of the horrors happening in the world I find the idea of owning a Pokémon… a bit immature.” 

Maria and Elijah were so shocked they could barely speak, and both of them turned to look at each other with great concern. The former was especially concerned: this had already been going exactly as she had feared, and now her son was saying he was too immature to own a Pokémon, too?

She would have forced him to pick a Pokémon then and there had Braker not intervened. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll pick one when I feel ready to,” he said. “I know that I’ll be studying Monese in high school and college anyways, and Kyrellik in the latter as well, so I’ll probably get something by then. Just… not at the moment. I know how much you wanted me to though.” 

Elijah looked over at the PokeBall container again. 

“Well, then… what are we going to do with all of these PokeBalls?” he asked.

“Keep them,” said Braker simply. “You need Pokémon of your own, don’t you? Or, better yet, give them away to the neighbors who’ve bought copies of The Braker Telegraph . Perfectly fine with me, really.” 

With that said, he started to head into the kitchen, all while Maria and Elijah Braker continued to look at each other in concern.

“I’m going to make my breakfast and then head upstairs,” he said. “You two can call me down when it’s lunchtime.” 

“A-alright then…!” said Maria, trying to hide her concern with a cheerful smile. “Happy birthday!” 

“Thanks, mum!” said Braker, before heading into the kitchen. 

For the next few moments a tense silence fell over the Braker parents, who were standing there stock-silent in their living room. Within a few moments, however, the silence was broken, as Maria burst into tears then and there. Elijah looked at his wife in immense concern. 

“W-what’s the matter?” he asked. 

“Our son doesn’t want a Pokémon…!” Maria bawled. 

“Yeah, but… we expected this, didn’t we?” asked Elijah. “We’ll be fine.” 

“I know that, but…” Maria paused for a few moments and held back a bit of tears. “I just… I was ‘opin’ ‘e’d get one. ‘E’s become so obsessed with the news, and all of these mature things; I just want ‘im to ‘ave fun for once in his life! I figured a Pokémon would be the best way for him to do that!” 

“I know,” said Elijah, patting his wife on the shoulder, “but our son has other goals, and we should try and support them. He said that he’d get a Pokémon when he was ready.” 

“I know…!” sobbed Maria. “But… I don’t want him to become too invested in his work. I… I fear what ‘is adulthood is gonna be like, y’know…?”

Elijah just shrugged, then held his wife as she continued to sob. 

About 5 minutes later Leonard Braker came out with a fully-cooked waffle and a bottle of water. He promptly went upstairs and didn’t come out until lunch. 

Later that night, he used what he had learned from the books he had gotten in the library to invest in his first piece of stock at just 10 years old: 

The Geographic Society. 

His course was set. 

THE WAAPT CONTINUUMS
BRAKER TIMELINE
ARC 1

CHAPTER 2

5/7/18, Wyndon— The Braker Household

Leonard Braker was, of course, busy. Immensely so. 

He’d spent the last 10 years of his life trying his best to get a career in journalism. He’d gotten quite a lot of stock from his GeoSoc investment, he was now in college, and as he had promised he would do in college, he was studying journalism as a major, along with Monese and Kyrellik. For the last ten years now he’d done practically nothing but watch the news, take notes, write his newspaper, ask people if they wanted to be interviewed, and studied like crazy. 

At the moment, though, he wasn’t studying for journalism. 

He was studying Monese. 

He’d been given an assignment to watch Gym Battles at home and translate the Monese found within it. This was fairly interesting, given that Monese wasn’t a phonetic language like Kyrellik was and as such was a lot harder to translate. Thankfully, though, he was taking notes like crazy, all the while watching some random Trainer with a gray jacket and red headphones on battling Acerola in the Elite Four. That being said, though, the information he had was… limited.

He didn’t know the Trainer’s name, and neither the Trainer nor the mon had said much of anything the entire time. He didn’t know what other Pokémon the Trainer had, besides the Delphox that was currently out on the field. It was the only good battle that was on, and he had turned on his TV midway through the battle— though it was more accurate to say the end of the battle. All he knew was that it was currently Delphox vs. Froslass, and given the type advantage, the former was likely to win. 

For a few moments, he considered turning the match off and switching to another battle, one that had more dialogue and— crucially— more Monese, since it wasn’t really being spoken at all. 

And then he heard something from the screen. 

“ This one goes out… ”

He glanced up at the screen and saw that the Trainer and his Delphox were preparing a Z-Move— and knew that Monese would be evident at any moment. This was clearly a cue. The good news was, though, this was a lyric— and for lyrics, anyone could guess the song if they could play “Name That Tune”. 

Well. Thank goodness his parents watched it, then.

And especially thank goodness that he knew the song. 

He glanced down at his paper and continued writing, absentmindedly singing the next lyric along with the Delphox on the screen: 

<“to the one I love…”> 

He paused, watching as the Delphox subsequently let loose with an Inferno Overdrive that hit the Froslass and knocked her backwards, causing her to faint. 

“Huh,” he muttered, as he continued writing. “Call-and-response songs for Z-Moves. Unconventional, but enjoyable.”

He stopped writing after a bit and looked up.

“Though… considering the song, would the next lyric after that be ‘this one goes out to the one I left behind’ or ‘fire!’?” 

—————————————————————————-

5/8/18, Wyndon— The Braker Household 

Another day, another battle with… whoever this was. 

As before, the mons and the Trainer were mostly silent, so Braker wasn’t really paying attention to the fight on screen. He only knew two things: the strange Trainer was A) battling Olivia and B) had a Blaziken who was currently out on the field against an Armaldo. 

From what he could tell, they were probably a Fire-type monotyper, but he didn’t want to assume anything. Yet. 

Of course, his time was split between his assignment and the battle itself, so he didn’t hear much of anything, until: 

“ Face down in the dirt, she said— ”

He didn’t notice the Blaziken on the screen start glowing with an orange light, nor did he see the Trainer hold up his Mega Stone— which was in his headphones for some odd reason— but Braker responded along with the Blaziken in an instant: 

<“—this doesn’t hurt—“> 

He kept going, not noticing the Blaziken’s shape start to change. 

“—-she said, ‘I finally had enou—’” 

He looked up, and saw that the orange light had faded; a Mega Blaziken was now on the screen to a mass cheering crowd. 

“…oh,” he said. “The Blaziken Mega-Evolved. Neat. He does it for Megas, too.” 

He paused, then shook his head. 

“…dang it, this is distracting me…” he muttered, turning all of his attention in that moment back to his work.

He was so distracted by his work, in fact, that he failed to notice the Sneasel evolution that subsequently occurred on screen, denying his Fire-monotyper assumption. 

——————————————————————————————

About halfway through Braker’s work, he started to get hungry, so he began to head downstairs in order to see if he could go and get himself some lunch. Upon him getting downstairs, he saw his parents eagerly watching something on the television. Maria, in particular, had an expression of extreme cuteness proximity on her face, but Braker didn’t pay much note to either the television or his mother’s expression.

“Hello there,” he said simply as he headed over to the kitchen. “I was getting pretty hungry; figured I would go downstairs and get something to–”

He turned his head to face the screen and paused when he saw who they were looking at– it was the same Trainer from before, now battling Kahili. Apparently, this channel was broadcasting this Trainer’s entire Alola League run.

“Oh, you’re watching the Fire-type monorainer, too?” he asked. “Funny; I just saw him on the TV for my homework assignment today; he’s got a Mega Blaziken.” 

“...Fire-type monotrainer?” asked Elijah, tilting his head in confusion. “What are you–”

He was about to say something else when the television interrupted:  

“ Look at me now, I’m making my play! ”

“‘Just’,” Braker added, knowing full well where this was going and recognizing the lyric as being from one of his parents’ favorite songs.

Sure enough, within a few seconds, his parents were on their feet and screamed so loudly that Braker couldn’t hear the television:

“ DON’T TRY TO PUSH YOUR LUCK; JUST GET OUT OF MY WAY! ”

Braker, startled, turned to face the screen and saw a massive Gigavolt Havoc move hit Kahili’s Toucannon for a few moments, all while his parents continued to sing “Back in Black”. Loudly . He rolled his eyes a bit, smirking at them. 

“Ah,” he said. “So he’s not a fire monotyper. Alright, then.” 

He left and headed off to the kitchen to go make his lunch, never seeing the Pokemon that had made the move. By the time he was midway through making a ham and cheese sandwich, his parents were on their feet whooping and cheering like crazy.

“‘E WON, BABY!” cried Maria.

“Put on some AC/DC!” Elijah shouted. “We’re CELEBRATING!” 

Braker rolled his eyes, and went back to making his sandwich. Ten minutes later he had finished, and promptly headed upstairs to get back to his work. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He got an A on the assignment, of course, despite the relative lack of speech on the part of the Trainer he’d seen. Of course, he’d watched other battles, too, so he presumed that would have helped. For whatever strange reason, though, he found himself very much intrigued by the mysterious gray-shirted Trainer, and figured that the next time he showed up in a League, he would continue to watch his fights in order to get more Monese lessons in him. He loved the assignment so much, in fact, that even after that he continued to watch battle after battle, writing down everything in Monese that he could find and translating it. 

Of course, it was a lot harder to do that than it was to translate Kyrellik. That came really easy to him. It was speaking it for him that was the problem— and that proved, ultimately, to be his class undoing. 

On one particular day of his Kyrellik courses, his teacher announced a special guest would be giving a lecture on the language for the day. He didn’t know who it was, but he made sure that he would give his full attention to the guest, and dressed accordingly. 

When he eventually came into the room, the last thing he expected to see was a massive Paldean Tauros towering over him, giving him a steely glare that gave him a lot of pause. For a few moments, he considered interviewing him, but eventually after a few moments thought better of it and instead sat down in his seat, equal parts awed and terrified by the giant bull in front of him. Around him, the rest of his fellow students seemed equally on edge.

“ This is going to be our guest speaker?” muttered one of them.

“I would have liked it better if it were a human…” said another.

“That Paldean Tauros looks so scary…”

“I wonder who he is?” 

More whispers continued amongst the students, but in a matter of moments all of them were interrupted with a loud thud that hit the floor. The students quickly fell silent and turned to face the direction of the thud, only to find that it was the Paldean Tauros’ hoof that had hit the ground. Said Paldean Tauros was continuing to stare everyone down with his intense glare. Finally, after a few moments, the Paldean Tauros finally spoke up.

< Prïket ,> he said, a bit harshly. (Hello.)

“… Prïket, ” the students responded, still a bit caught off-guard. 

< Sü jok sois Rancorpüjin, > said the Paldean Tauros. < Sü jok sois au prasidepaïk yü au IPPA, et sü jok wou sois parleptük yü tok tadar. > (I am Rancorpujin. I am the president of the IPPA, and I will be your lecturer today.)

Braker’s eyebrows instantly raised upon hearing those four letters. He had heard of the IPPA before— it had been mentioned previously in the Kyrellik class as the main linguistic hub for Pokémon. He promptly raised his hand, noting something else. 

< Cheüt? > Rancorpüjin asked. < Hokt-sois tok? > (Yes? Who are you?)

Braker responded— in Kyrellik, of course, since the class was almost entirely in it.

“ Sü jok sois büreka, ” he said. “ Sü nom yü tok… sü nom yü tok sois ‘brutal with words’?” (I am Braker. Your name... your name means "brutal with words"?)

<“ Phrases ”,> snapped Rancorpüjin. < Rancor pü jin, ne rancor pü palabt.> ("Phrases". Brutal with phrases, not brutal with words.)

“ Tümil ,” Braker apologized, meekly, embarrassed that he had forgotten his Kyrellik lessons. (Sorry.)

< Chok cheüt, > said Rancorpüjin, turning to face the group of students, < sü nom yü mok de sois ‘brutal with phrases’, et sü jok autik ta sois plü rancor mit ka tadar. Kot tadar, sü kirümetük yü tok fragüt mok ta donüs tok qükü… palabparlüs testi. > (But yes, my name means "brutal with phrases", and I will be very brutal with them today. For today, your teacher has asked me to give you all... a pronunciation test.)

A pronunciation test. 

Braker shuddered. Pronunciation in Kyrellik was not his strong suit, and he knew that. Yes, he could form sentences; yes, he could write things down in Kyrellik; but he couldn’t pronounce some of the stranger sounds for the life of him. Just earlier, he couldn’t correctly say “tümill”! 

The entire class began nervously muttering amongst themselves again, but were quieted eventually by a hoof being stomped on the ground by Rancor. 

< Sü kirümetük yü tok parlük mok zjït tok qükü sois rellachük ou tok benkit, > Rancor said sternly. < Sü chob woüt permït zjït deromp, et ne wou jok. Sü jok sois autik ta testüs tok qükü ou tok palabparlüs, et palabt, et si tok fallit…> (Your teacher told me that you all have been slacking off on your studies. She will not let that happen, and neither will I. I am going to test you all on your pronunciation, and your vocabulary, and if you fail...)

He glared up at the class. 

< Sü ro sois au kirümetük yü bittüs zjït tok autik.> (It is the teacher's request that you leave.)

That last word reached Braker’s ears and caused him some amount of dismay. It was true, to some extent; he had been slacking off a bit on his Kyrellik lessons— but that was only because of the rest of the immense amount of work he had to do that he knew he couldn’t slack off on. His pronunciation wasn’t too great either. And worse of all, this was a general Ed class that directly counted towards his major, meaning if he failed this, he probably wouldn’t be graduating. Still, though, he knew there were a lot of kids that were doing worse than him, and he knew that. So long as the vocabulary section was long enough, he would be fine. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous and intimidated by Rancor though. 

More importantly than that, though, he could barely believe that this was apparently done on request of his Kyrellik teacher, a person who he’d never seen angry before in his life. Were the rest of the students really doing so bad that she had to bring in the IPPA president to set them straight?! 

A quick look at the horrified faces of the rest of the students, and then at the extremely disappointed looking face of their Kyrellik teacher who was right next to Rancor, told Braker everything he needed to know.

Hoo-boy. 

This was going to be a nightmare for him. 

———————————————————————————————————————

By the end of Rancor’s absolutely brutal test in pronunciation and vocabulary that he had promised, there were only 4 students still standing. 

None of those 4 students included Leonard Braker. 

The test, as it turned out, was mostly pronunciation, and was conducted one student at a time. Leonard Braker, who was not good at reading things in Kyrellik and who was not used to being in such a stressful environment, wholeheartedly failed his Kyrellik exam and— as had been promised— was kicked out of the class. Sure enough, he ended up failing that class— the first one he had ever failed, as well as what would eventually be the only one.

Still, the Rancorpüjin lesson made a massive impression on him, and Braker only worked even harder than he ever had before. His parents didn’t even mind that he had failed Kyrellik, but Braker certainly did, and practically threw himself into study for the next 3 months, going on even until the summer break happened. His daily schedule now really could not involve much of any fun time: he had to review his journalism stuff, watch the news, continue writing his newspaper, and now he had to study both Monese and Kyrellik like crazy. It got to the point where he only ever came out of his room for food. Maria and Elijah were so worried about him that they frequently went to check on him, but Braker wouldn’t come out. 

He only allowed himself a few short breaks, and regretted the fact that he had ever been interested in that one gray-shirted Trainer from those battles.

As the start of his birthday month came around, however, he would soon find himself right back where he had started.

——————————————————————————————————————

08/03/18, Wyndon— Braker Household 

Still no word yet on a name , Braker thought to himself as he watched the battle on the television in front of him, taking notes for the sake of Monese study and review. 

It had been a few months since he’d last caught up with the “Fire monotyper”’s battles, and apparently the Trainer had beaten the Alolan champion, because now he was in Sinnoh, battling against Roark’s Rampardos with a Weavile. Once again, he’d turned the television on mid-battle, and once again he was taking notes on any Monese used.

There still wasn’t much of any.

That being said, it was a bit fun, if also a bit distracting, to try and guess the next lyric. 

Unfortunately, though, today he’d have to do it the other way around. 

He glanced up again at the screen, and was taken a bit off guard by the Trainer’s Weavile grabbing a Z-Crystal. What he heard next was something that was clearly a lyric, but also something he couldn’t get right away. Either he wasn’t very well-versed in Weavile-based Monese, or he just didn’t recognize the song at the time. 

The Trainer’s response, however, cleared everything up at once: 

“ Something lost and never seen. ” 

Braker snapped his fingers in recognition as the Z-Move went off. 

“Ah,” he said, taking down notes. “It was ‘Freak on a Leash’.” He chuckled. “Good thing that’s the only lyric from that song I know…” 

———————————————————————————————-

08/04/18, Wyndon— Braker Household 

Eterna and Veilstone? Nothing. What a shame. 

Pastoria, Braker figured, might be better. Of course, when he turned on the TV again later that night, Braker was a bit confused by what he saw. Instead of the Trainer with the gray jacket, he was now looking at someone about 13 or so— some pop-idol princess with a Sylveon theme, he figured. 

And for whatever reason, this girl had a Galvantula— who she was currently returning— and a Luxio, who she was just now sending out. For a moment or two, as the Luxio struck Crasher Wake’s Quagsire with an Ice Fang, he asked himself why someone clearly choosing to model her performance look after a Sylveon was an Electric monotyper, but then he shrugged. Maybe she just liked Electric-types. 

Seconds later, though, he was broken out of his reverie by a female voice singing: 

“ Was this over before~… ” 

He shot up instantly; this was one of his favorite songs.

“<Before it ever began?>/Your kiss, your calls, your crutch, like the devil’s got your—”

He glanced at the screen, stopping as the Luxio hit Quagsire with a Breakneck Blitz. 

“—ohhh, she’s gone for Normal,” he said. “Interesting.” 

He paused for a few moments, wondering how this Sylveon cosplayer knew about the two-way call-and-responses, but eventually shrugged. 

“She probably just saw his battles and was inspired by him,” he said. “Pop idol, after all. Wonder how he’ll react though.” 

—————————————————————————————————-

08/05/18, Wyndon— Braker Household 

The next day, the gray-shirted Trainer was back, and had fought against Fantina and won— with a Staravia, along with an assortment of other mons— including a Sylveon, funnily enough. He had been slightly disappointed when no call-and-response cue happened during Hearthome, and even more disappointed by the fact that no one spoke at all during the whole thing. He was begging for some kind of change— but alas, this Trainer was very much the silent type. Hopefully, Canalave would give some kind of reprieve— and in one way it did. 

This time, the challenger on screen was instead a 30-something year old man with red glasses, a mustache, a track shirt, and katanas— and he had a Luxio too, funnily enough. This was was a far better battler than the Sylveon-themed pop idol was, though— she’d paralyzed Aggron with Spark and prevented a Metal Burst in the process.

What a strategy, Braker thought to himself— and then he noticed a glowing blue Z-Crystal behind the Luxio’s ear. 

Like in Oreburgh, the mon went first.

Unlike in Oreburgh, though, Braker recognized this melody straight away; his parents had put on All-Unovan Rejects for him all the time in his youth. 

< You never seemed so tense, love~ > 

And then, along with the jock on screen: 

“Never seen you fall so hard; do you know where you are?” 

Braker grinned as the Luxio bit and froze Aggron, and continued singing to himself as he went into a bit of a nostalgic reverie.

“And truth be told I miss you/And truth be told I’m lying…” 

< BREAK! > 

Braker laughed. 

“No time for those, Luxio; I’ve got work to do,” he said. “I’ll note your contribution, though.” 

———————————————————————————————————————-

08/06/18, Wyndon— Braker Household 

The next battle happened early the next morning; Braker was unfortunately still asleep by then. Even so, though, Braker had a feeling the “Fire-type monotyper” would win fairly easily, given that he knew Snowpoint was next. 

He even knew what the call-and-response song was, if only because he heard Maria squee like a baby and then proceed to play and sing “Misery Business”— one of her favorite songs— at the top of her lungs. 

He had a lot of work to do, though. He couldn’t be distracted.

Yet for the rest of the day, as Braker studied, wrote, and watched, the song kept playing in his head on repeat. 

That was, until later that afternoon, when Braker once again went down to get lunch. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Braker happened to come downstairs at precisely the right moment, as it turned out. 

His parents were eagerly watching a 20-something year old man wearing fingerless gloves and a blue shirt taking on Volkner’s Electivire with a Dusk Lycanroc. Braker turned to face them. 

“Hi there,” he said. “Just getting lunch; I have a lot of Kyrellik study work to do after this.” 

“Alright then,” said Elijah.

He paused, looking at the screen again.

“Heh,” he said. “Shame ‘e’s not Ground-type; isn’t it, Len?” 

“Indeed,” said Braker stoically, getting out a loaf of bread from the kitchen to make another sandwich with, and not really sharing his father’s enthusiasm. 

That was, until a male voice came from the screen: 

“ I~ wanna rock and roll all night… ” 

Instantly, the Braker parents shot out of their seats, and Braker joined them from the kitchen, raising his fist eagerly: 

“ AND PARTY EVERY DAY! ” 

The Braker parents erupted in screams and cheers, while Braker went back to work in making his sandwich. By the time he came out, “Rock and Roll All Nite” was blaring, the TV was off, and Braker had missed some major revelations about the Trainer he’d gotten to know from the television. 

Namely, with one touch of a special Sun Stone, invented by Gisnep, the Dusk Lycanroc had revealed that he was the Trainer all along, that the other Trainers Braker had seen were all his Pokémon, and that the two Luxios he had seen were one and the same. 

It would take Braker 4 years to figure that information out.

05/16/19– Wyndon Stadium– Graduation Day 

Unfortunately for Braker, he never saw another battle with that Trainer again. Not because he didn’t want to see it, but because he had so much work to do. According to his parents, though, that Trainer won the League and sang two Nine Inch Nails songs that Braker had never heard of in his life. 

The good news, though, was that his fall semester went very well, and he passed that Kyrellik class with flying colors. The even better news was that the spring semester was also his last semester, and that meant he was going to graduate soon– assuming, of course, that that semester went well. 

Fortunately for him, it did, and now here he was at Wyndon Stadium, surrounded by all of the other members of the Class of 2019 from Wyndon University, dressed up in his cap and gown, waiting for the president of the university to bring him and the others up on stage to receive their diplomas. The wait ended up being incredibly long due to the massive amount of guest speakers that were there: for one thing, every single Gym Leader in Galar gave a speech congratulating the class of 2019, then someone from Feluv came in and talked about them graduating from Wyndon University, moving to Feluv, and joining the MTI; then Leon came and gave a speech; and then, finally… 

“Alright, it is now time for the conferring of the degrees. Will the class of 2019 please stand up?” 

Braker smiled, as he and the rest of the class stood up and basked in the mass amounts of applause and cheers that emanated from the stadium. For a few moments, he looked around, trying to see if he could find his parents, but the mass amount of people in the crowd made it incredibly difficult to find where they were. Still, though, he had a feeling that both of his parents were there, cheering for him. Maria probably had tears in her eyes seeing it. 

Even better yet, he was in the first row. He was going to get his degree very, very soon.

After the applause and cheering finally died down, the president of the university stepped forward and gave the announcement that Braker had been waiting for. 

“Will the first row of students come forward and have their degrees conferred.” 

Braker wasn’t the first one in the line– he was behind a few other students in the first row– but he was still very happy. Fairly soon, the line began moving, as the people in charge of announcing went through the names of a few people that Braker did not know. Eventually, Braker found himself next up in the line, with a woman next to him; instantly Braker knew that this woman was the person who would be announcing his name. He got out the graduation card with his name on it and handed it to the woman, who knelt down next to him.

“How’s your name pronounced?” she whispered, while the other  person kept going through names.

“Leonard Braker,” said Braker. “Exactly as it’s spelled.” 

The woman nodded. As the last person in front of Braker left the stage to head back to their seat, Braker stepped forward and the woman next to him turned to the stage.

“Leonard Braker!” she announced.

Braker shook the president’s hand as the crowd cheered and more names began to get called, before the photographer in front of them motioned for them to turn to face him. The president and Braker both turned to face the photographer and smiled as the photographer took a few photos of the two of them. Once the photos were done, Braker promptly left the stage and went back down to sit in his seat. As soon as he was once again seated, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness.

He had finally done it.

Even so, though, he knew that his work wasn’t done. He knew full well his parents would want to celebrate his graduation, and he was definitely happy to, but he knew what he was going to do once he got home.

First things first– he was going to show his parents his home.

His investment in GeoSoc had paid off and paid off incredibly well, as Braker had made enough money from the investment to buy himself a house, which meant that he was going to emancipate himself from his parents that day . After that, he was going to go right to work, and try to apply for journalism school after journalism school after journalism school to see if they would accept him. Money definitely wouldn’t be an issue, since his GeoSoc investment had paid off so well, and the vast majority of his grades were good save for that single Kyrellik fail, so that wouldn’t necessarily be an issue.

Something told him he was going to be accepted fairly quickly. 

It wouldn’t really matter to him if most of the journalism schools rejected him, though, because there was one single journalism school that he wanted to get accepted into: the PEFE School of Journalism. It was his dream journalism school and one that he’d been researching for a very long time. According to numerous reviews, it was the best journalism school in the entire Pokemon world, and was part of the greater PEFE University on the Sevii Islands. If he got accepted into that school, it would be massive.  

The rest of the names passed very slowly, but eventually, after a long, long while, the last student got off of the stage and went back to their seat. The president of the university turned to face the students, all of whom were still standing.

“As of now, you have all officially been conferred your degrees from the university,” he said. “Congratulations to the Class of 2019.” 

The crowd roared. Braker, and a few others, waved at them. 

“And now,” said the president, “you are allowed to mark this momentous occasion and cement your status. Please indicate your new status by transferring your tassel from right to left.” 

Braker was so distracted by his thoughts of showing his parents his new house, and of the many letters he would be sending to various journalism schools, that he almost forgot to turn the tassel, but eventually realized what was happening. Quickly, Braker grabbed his tassel and turned it to the left, being careful not to accidentally pull the tassel off of his cap.

The crowd, once again, lost their minds and roared. Braker glanced around happily at the crowd, still unable to believe that he had actually done it. 

The president spoke some final words of encouragement to the students that Braker didn’t hear, as he was once again distracted by what was going to happen after the graduation ceremony was over, before eventually he heard “Pomp and Circumstance” playing again and the sounds  of all the various students around him getting up to leave the room. Braker got up out of his seat, grinning and tossing his cap in the air before running it over to pick it up and exiting the stadium pitch. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Braker re-entered the stadium waiting room, looking around for a few minutes for any sign of his parents. He took a deep breath, his entire body practically pulsing with excitement. 

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, “where are they…? I know that they had to have come to this; neither one of them would just up and leave me like tha–”

“LENNY~!”

Ah. There they were.

A bit startled, Braker turned around, and sure enough saw his parents running towards him with massive grins on their faces. As he had expected, Maria had tears in her eyes, and ran up to give her son a big hug. Elijah, meanwhile, merely put his hand on Braker’s shoulder– though as Braker looked up he could also see tears in his father’s eyes too.

“You did it~!” Maria exclaimed, letting go of her son. “Oh, we’re so proud o’ you, Lenny!” 

Braker smiled.

“Thanks, mum,” he said.

“Well done, Len,” said Elijah. “When you get home, we’re going to celebrate as much as possible, you ‘ear me?” 

Braker, in response, just laughed.

“Oh, the celebration’s going to begin a lot earlier than you would think,” he said. 

Elijah paused.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You remember that investment I made in GeoSoc stocks when I was 10, right?” Braker asked.

“Yeah,” said Elijah. “What about it?”

“Well…”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wyndon, Braker’s House– After the Ceremony


“SHUT UP!” Maria shrieked with joy. 

Braker just nodded.

The three of them were standing in front of a 2-story blue house with a black roof and four windows visible from the outside. Maria was absolutely flabbergasted with joy, while Elijah grinned, staring up at the house and nodding.

“You’re kidding,” he said. “Man… I can’t believe you actually got enough money for this.” 

“A-are you going to be moving out?” asked Maria.

“That’s the thing,” said Braker. “I’m already moved out.” 

Maria stood there in shock for a few moments. “W-wha–?! But– we saw–” 

Braker smiled.

“As soon as we left early for the graduation, I headed off to the bathroom and called moving truck people to move everything from my room out of your house and into mine,” he said. “You can go home and check the interior of it for yourself; my room’s all barren.” 

Elijah glanced over at his son. “Seriously?” 

Braker nodded again.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Elijah asked. “Can we go inside and see it?” 

“Of course,” said Braker. “That’s why I brought you here.” 

“Alright, then!” said Elijah.

Maria squealed, and the three members of the Braker family headed into the house.  

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Maria and Elijah entered Braker’s new house, they were absolutely stunned by what they saw at the front door. 

The front door, which was black, led to a massive corridor surrounded by walls and pictures of Braker with his parents. That, in turn, led to the living room, which had brown wooden walls, blue carpet, and all the things that would normally be expected of a living room. There was a massive television, a couch, and a chair– the last of those two things were both orange in color. The most impressive thing, however, was what was on the walls– namely, every single edition of The Braker Telegraph, the family’s newspaper, was hung up on the walls in order of publication. 

Elijah and Maria were stunned.

“No way… ” muttered Elijah.

“Is– is that every single edition?!” cried Maria.

“Every single one,” said Braker. “This was why I kept all the editions in a safe place.”

“Wow~!” cried Maria, jumping up and down and clapping her hands enthusiastically. 

“Is that the kitchen?” asked Elijah, pointing over to an orange-walled room with a small table, a stainless-steel refrigerator, a stainless-steel microwave, a stove, an oven, and a ton of cabinets.

“And the dining room, yes,” said Braker. 

“Huh,” said Elijah. “Looks nice.” 

“Can we see your room?!” Maria cried excitedly.

Braker chuckled. “It’s the only other room in the house, besides the bathroom and laundry room, so yes. All my stuff is in there.” 

Maria once again squealed with joy and practically ran up the stairs that were next to the massive corridor. Elijah and Braker, both of whom were watching, laughed a bit, then went over to follow her. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Suffice it to say, Braker was not joking about his room being the only other one in the house besides the bathroom and laundry room (and the rooms downstairs), because– as Braker’s parents would both discover– Braker’s room was absolutely huge. 

It had blue walls, much like the downstairs living room, an absolutely massive bed with teal sheets and white blankets, multiple cabinets and doors, a huge television, a giant desk for Braker to do his work on, and a bunch of objects that had been transferred over from Braker’s house. Namely, books. Journalism books, investment books, and the like galore were sprinkled throughout the bookshelves in Braker’s room– and neither Elijah nor Maria could get enough of it. They complimented Braker on his room, asking him why it was so big; Braker responded:

“Oh, that’s to make room for any Pokemon I get… assuming, of course, that I get any.” 

Of course, the idea of Braker having Pokemon was enough to make both Maria and Elijah even happier.

After the house tour was finished, the Braker family went straight to their son’s celebratory graduation lunch, where Braker’s parents shared the happy news with their parents. Braker’s grandparents were absolutely delighted by the news, and were quick to congratulate Braker, both on the graduation and on the new house.

Once the Braker family finished their lunch, they went back to Braker’s house for something a lot sadder, at least to them: saying goodbye to their son now that he was fully emancipated.

Of course, Braker had to remind his parents multiple times that they weren’t actually saying goodbye and that their houses were literally a few miles apart from each other. That being said, though, even he had to admit that this was hard for him. He’d lived with his parents for the longest time, and even though he was busy working most days, he’d still had some great memories with his parents– namely working on editions of The Braker Telegraph , which he took seriously, but his parents enjoyed reading. Once Maria and Elijah had hugged and kissed and cried multiple times over their son, they finally left the room to head back to their house.

“Good luck, Lenny~!” Maria cried. “Don’t forget to call us!” 

“I won’t,” Braker responded. “You can rest assured of that.” 

With that, Elijah and Maria waved at their son a few times, and he waved back, and the three of them stared at each other for a very long time until eventually Elijah shut the door. 

And Braker was left alone. 

Braker stood there for a good few moments after his parents had left the room, not knowing what to think or what to feel. He was feeling all sorts of emotions at the moment: happiness, sadness, pride, a bit of regret for not interacting much with his parents, immense satisfaction at the fact that everything he had been working towards was finally coming to fruition and that all that workaholism from his childhood hadn’t been for nothing. 

Yet at the same time… he also had another feeling.

Namely… one of dissatisfaction . 

Something, he felt, was missing in his life. What that thing was, he didn’t know yet, and it didn’t make any sense to him. He knew it couldn’t be Pokemon– he was getting one when he was ready to, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Besides, he’d survived without one for this long; he could last a bit longer. Maybe it was something else. 

He blinked, suddenly feeling something in his eyes, which he wiped away. As he looked closer, he realized, to his slight shock, that he was crying. Not that he had never cried before… but it certainly wasn’t something that happened often.

Maybe he just missed his parents? 

…Yeah. That had to be it, he figured, nodding to himself. That was all it was; he just missed his parents. He’d get over it eventually.

He glanced over at his desk, shaking his head and wiping his tears away as best he could.

“Who am I kidding,” he said to himself. “I have work to do; acceptance essays to write. I can’t just be standing here missing my parents and grappling with my feelings; that can wait until afterwards.” 

He glanced over at the numerous papers that were on his desk, as well as the computer that was on it. Wasting little time, he got onto his computer, headed straight to Goodrle, and typed in: 


journalism school acceptance applications  

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days– the next week – was nothing but a total workload for Braker. Over the course of the next week, he wrote essay after essay and applied for practically every single journalism school that he could think of, in the hopes of him eventually getting accepted. He wrote out every single essay on a piece of paper first, revising it and revising it, until he thought it looked good enough for him to send– and then he sent it. 

And sent another. 

And another. 

And another. 

By the end of the week, Braker had sent out applications to 30 journalism schools across the Pokemon world– and the only one he hadn’t tackled yet was the PEFE School of Journalism.

That was about to change.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

05/23/19



PEFE School of Journalism (PEFE University) Application Form 



Full Student Name: Leonard Kennedy Braker 

Preferred Name: Braker 

Date of Birth: 19/8/98 

Sex: M 

Gender Identity: Gay 




Preferred phone number: +44 020 5555 5555

Preferred email address: programusinterruptuslb@goomail.com  

Permanent home address: 45 North Road, Wyndon, Galar, N64 4FY




Citizenship status: Galarian 

Language proficiency: 

Galarian 
Monese
Kyrellik 

Demographic Information: Afro-Galarian; Unovan grandfather 



Family: 

Parent 1: Mother  

Is Parent 1 living?: Yes 

Parent 1 full name: Maria Elizabeth Braker 

Parent 1 former name, if any: neé McCullough 

Birthplace of Parent 1: Crown Tundra 

Parent 1 preferred contact method: Phone 

Parent 1 preferred phone number: +44 020 1234 5678 

Parent 1 occupation: Cartoonist (retired) 

Parent 1 college attended: None 




Parent 2: Father 

Is Parent 2 living?: Yes

Parent 2 full name: Elijah Donald Braker 

Parent 2 former name, if any: None 

Birthplace of Parent 2: Wyndon

Parent 2 preferred contact method: Phone 

Parent 2 preferred phone number: +44 020 8765 4321 

Parent 2 occupation: Carpenter 

Parent 2 college attended: Wyndon University 




Education: 

Secondary/high school: Wyndon High School

College: Wyndon College 

Degree Achieved: BA 

Cumulative GPA: 3.488



Writing: Personal Essay 



Please choose from one of the following categories. 




- Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story. 
- The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?
- Reflect on a time when you questioned or challenged a belief or idea. What prompted your thinking? What was the outcome?
- Reflect on something that someone has done for you that has made you happy or thankful in a surprising way. How has this gratitude affected or motivated you?
- Discuss an accomplishment, event, or realization that sparked a period of personal growth and a new understanding of yourself or others.
- Describe a topic, idea, or concept you find so engaging that it makes you lose all track of time. Why does it captivate you? What or who do you turn to when you want to learn more?
- Share an essay on any topic of your choice. It can be one you've already written, one that responds to a different prompt, or one of your own design.

Response (Question 2):

I don’t consider myself to be a failure, by any stretch of the imagination. As a matter of fact, I’m quite possibly the hardest-working member of my family, which is saying a lot considering how hard my parents and especially my grandfather have worked for many years. I’m very proud of the work I’ve done, both at home and at school, and I have always done my absolute best every single year.

That being said, however, as you may have noticed, there’s a reason I don’t have a 4.0 cumulative GPA. 

The story begins in 2018, towards the end of my junior year of college. At that time, I was taking a Kyrellik class, which I was– for the most part, anyways– doing fairly respectably in. I had a B at that time, which of course wasn’t good enough for me, though my parents were more than happy with it. The main problem was my pronunciation. I did all of my assignments and got fairly good scores on my vocabulary tests, but reading tests weren’t my strong suit. I am not a linguist. I couldn’t pronounce some of the harder sounds in Kyrellik, namely the Q, the H, and especially that tricky double LL, widely regarded as one of the most difficult sounds in Kyrellik, and as such was docked plenty of points for my reading tests by my teacher. My Kyrellik teacher was very nice, and treated me well, yet as the semester went on I could tell she was decidedly starting to get frustrated with the other members of her class, who were– from what I could tell–  very much decidedly unstudious. Still, though, she never actually snapped at any of us, and I couldn’t recall a day when she had gotten angry in her life.

That was, until May 10th, 2018.

That day, I entered my Kyrellik class to find Rancorpujin, the strict, severe Paldean Tauros CEO of the International Pokemon Phonetics Association, or IPPA, standing in front of all of us. I was rather intimidated, but even so, figured that he was just there as a guest speaker: that was what our Kyrellik teacher had told us the day before, after all.

Unfortunately for me, I was wrong. 

My teacher, as it turned out, had lost her patience, and had brought in Rancorpujin to settle things. He told us all that he was giving us a pronunciation and vocabulary test, and that whoever failed would be asked to leave and would end up failing the whole class. This greatly unnerved me, but I naively told myself that the test would be mostly vocabulary based as opposed to pronunciation. 

Unfortunately for me, I was also wrong.

It was mostly pronunciation, and by the end of it, I was one of all but 4 students who ended up failing their Kyrellik class.

Logging on to the computer a few days later and seeing a massive “F” next to Kyrellik shook me to my absolute core. Prior to this, I’d gotten an A in every single class. I’d never failed a class before– much less a linguistic one– and my heart practically sank to the bottom of my chest seeing that I had. What on Earth was I going to tell my parents? How was I going to fare for the rest of the summer? I’d been slacking off a bit on my Kyrellik work due to all the other work I had to do taking up my time, especially after the excitement of seeing some Trainer with a gray shirt and red headphones whose name I never got going through the entire Sinnoh League. This was solely on me, I realized. If I was going to be a better student and be able to graduate next year, I needed to study and study hard .

Reluctantly, I called my parents that day to tell them I had failed my Kyrellik class. To my slight shock, they weren’t nearly as disappointed as I’d figured they’d be. I explained to them what happened and why I had failed, and if anything they were more upset with the teacher and especially the IPPA and Rancorpujin for it. My father explicitly told me over the phone that he was going to sue the IPPA and Wyndon University for it, which I thought was a bit much. 

I, of course, didn’t see it like that.

Rancorpujin, for all of his intimidating harshness, taught me something very important that day: you can’t let anything distract you from doing what needs to get done. Not other work, not battles on the television: nothing is more important than the work you’re doing right now. I studied Kyrellik like crazy during the summer break, focusing especially on pronunciation, and it  paid off: I got an A that semester, graduated, and am now sending you this college application form right now.

Of course, even if I hadn’t failed Kyrellik, I would still probably be applying for this school. But if that failure in Kyrellik hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have learned what I know now: nothing is more important in your life than the work you’re doing right now. You can’t be focused on other things. You can’t be focused on all the other work you have to do. That can wait until you’ve done what you’re done right now. Nothing is more important than work, and nothing is more important than present work. 

I hope to bring that ethic to your school of journalism should you choose to accept me. 

Legal and Financial Information: Lorun ipsum blah blah blah tuition stuff blah blah blah here are the fees you must pay blah blah blah you are responsible for any accidents blah blah blah I the undersigned agree to all of this.

– Leonard K. Braker 


Send application? 
> Yes

Your application has been sent. You should hear back in 14-15 business days. 

06/06/2019, Wyndon– Braker’s House

It had been 2 weeks– 14 whole business days– since Braker had sent in his application to PEFE University’s School of Journalism. In that time, he’d been thinking about what he wanted to do now that he was fully emancipated from his parents. His first thought was ending The Braker Telegraph , since now that he was emancipated the neighbors didn’t need to hear about the stories of his family anymore. Instead, he had a different idea for how to get the news out to people.

Livestreaming was becoming a thing, so… why not go onto a streaming site, or onto UTurn, and broadcast there? 

Of course, though, it wasn’t going to be that easy, Braker thought to himself as he sat in his desk chair in his room. There were still plenty of work-related things that he had to do– namely, he first had to get an education in journalism, see if he could find an audience, and then he had to find a way to format his content in such a way that it would get out to a mainstream audience. Of course, though, there was no better way to get an education in journalism than to see if anybody had accepted him.

Which, he figured, he might as well do right now.

His heart pounding, Braker got onto his computer and logged on to his email address, eagerly waiting to see if anybody responded to him. He actually knew a few of the universities he had sent applications to had – and they had all rejected him. Still, though, he didn’t mind too much– none of those universities were PEFE, which was the main one that he was hoping for. 

He checked his inbox, and instantly his heart rose when he saw a notification with the email address:

PEFEU@goomail.com

To make things even more exciting, the subject read “Application Response.”

Braker’s heart started pounding even harder now. This was it. His dream university had sent him an application response, and he was about to find out if he had to go on a plane to the Sevii Islands. 

He clicked on the email, opened it up, read it over, and– 

…Oh.



Dear Leonard Braker,

Thank you so much for your application to be accepted into our college’s School of Journalism. Unfortunately, however, we regret to inform you that you have been rejected. Your essay was incredibly compelling, but unfortunately your GPA did not meet our standards for being accepted into our college. Still, we hope that you will come and visit us one day. 

Sincerely,
PEFE University Staff


Braker sat there for a good few minutes in silence, disappointment and sadness welling up inside him.

He hadn’t been accepted after all.

He wasn’t going to his dream university.

It didn’t make any sense to him. Sure, he had failed one Kyrellik class, but that was it! He had a 3.4 GPA! He had graduated cum laude from Wyndon! There was no way that PEFE University would reject him just on the basis of that alone! 

He shook his head profusely, then opened up a new tab in his Goodrle. It didn’t make any sense. His hands shaking as he tried desperately to stop himself from breaking down, he typed in: 

is PEFE university a selective college

Within seconds, a link to the PEFE University website came up, labeled “Admission Questions”. Braker stopped shaking a bit. Finally, he thought to himself, this would be the answer he needed. He clicked on the link and read through it, eventually coming to a section that read:

Q: How good of a GPA do I need to have to come here?
A: PEFE University is not selective with their students. So long as your application is good enough, we will accept you so long as your GPA is 3.0 or higher.  

“I knew it,” Braker muttered to himself, his face turning grave.

So he did have a high enough GPA after all, and it was apparently the application that was the problem. He couldn’t think of where he might have gone wrong, though. He began to wonder for a few moments if he had made his college essay too impersonal, or not descriptive enough, or anything similarly to that, but then shook his head. No. That couldn’t be it. He’d seen people with– at least according to the standards of college essay websites, anyways– much worse personal essays make it into certain colleges. So, if that wasn’t the issue…

“...oh no ,” he suddenly said to himself, as the horrifying thought came to him. 

He hadn’t even considered the possibility of it at the time, but now the idea felt so convincing to him as to be real. He had a very good feeling now. It wasn’t his grades that led to his rejection. It wasn’t his essay, either. No, it was something else entirely.

It was his sexuality . 

He knew that PEFE itself had a ton of LGBTQ+ members, but he also knew that the people in charge of PEFE University were A) all white and B) all straight, and that in the past the university had come under fire for their anti-LGBTQ+ stances. It had to be the fact that he was gay. There was no other option he could possibly think of. Instantly, all of Braker’s sadness faded away, instantly replaced by a righteous anger. How? How could PEFE University reject him for something like that ?! Something he couldn’t possibly change?! It was horrible! The only thing he could do about this was get the news out there and speak out about this!...

…and yet he couldn’t. He didn’t have the training. He didn’t have the formal education.

No journalism group was ever going to hire him for anything. 

His anger faded away, replaced again by intense and immense sadness, and almost immediately he got up and sat on his bed.

“I… I can’t ,” he muttered. “I want to do something… but if the most respected journalism school in the entire Pokemon world doesn’t want me… then…” 

He was so devastated he felt tears coming to his eyes again. He knew very well that he had to call his parents and tell them the bad news, and that there was no way that he was going to ever be an effective journalist. Saddened, he pulled out his phone and dialed his father’s number, then waited while it rang.

Ring… 

Ring… 

Ring…  

Ri–

“ Hello? ” Elijah’s voice asked from the other end of the line.

“Hi, Dad,” said Braker sadly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“ Woah… uh… y’alright, Len?” asked Elijah, immediately noticing his son’s devastation. “ You sound upset. ” 

“I got the letter back from PEFE University that I told you about,” said Braker. “And… well… they rejected me.”

“ Aw, that’s awful, ” said Elijah. “ Sorry to hear that. Did you at least get accepted by the other schools you applied to? ” 

“No,” said Braker.

“ Oh, ” said Elijah.

“They said that the reason why was because of my grades, but I don’t believe that for a second,” said Braker. “I looked online, and their website says that so long as you have above a 3.0 GPA and so long as your essay is good enough, they’ll accept you.”

“ Hm, ” said Elijah. “ Maybe your essay was the issue? ”

“No, I don’t think that was it, either,” said Braker.

“ Well, then, what do you think it was? ” asked Elijah.

“My sexuality,” said Braker.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“...Hello?” asked Braker. 

More silence, and then eventually:

“ ...who the bloody ‘ell do they think they a– I’m going to sue them, too, ” said Elijah, his voice trembling with rage. “ I’m going to sue the ‘ell out of them and make them wish that they ‘ad never reje– ” 

“I… don’t think that’s worth it, Dad,” said Braker suddenly. “I don’t want you to lose any money, and besides, this is PEFE we’re talking about. They’d probably beat you within seconds.”

“ That doesn’t matter! ” Elijah protested. “ They shouldn’t reject you just because of your sexuality! ”

“Yeah, but what am I supposed to do about that?” asked Braker sadly. “You can’t change people’s minds. If PEFE University doesn’t want me, then I don’t think any journalist or journalism organization is going to want me either.”

“ Oh, don’t say that, ” said Elijah. “ There could still be a chance that someone out there hires you. ”

“...No,” said Braker sadly. “No, I don’t think there is.”

“ What about CNN?” asked Elijah.

“That’s the exception that proves the rule.”

There was once again silence on the other end of the line.

“...I’m going to go,” said Braker. “Thanks for trying to lift me up, but I really don’t think anyone’s going to hire me for anything. Journalism is a competitive business; that’s just the truth.” He sighed. “Bye.”

Before Elijah could say anything else, Braker hung up from the phone and put it down. Subsequently heartbroken, he shut his computer down, sat on his bed, and cried. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From that day on, Leonard Braker fell into a deep and inconsolable depression.

Braker had practically given up on any intention of being a journalist and doing anything even remotely related to journalism, and he definitely wasn’t given any confidence by what was going on now. Everywhere he looked, he saw a ton of news related to absolutely terrible things and people: people were dying at young ages; natural disasters were practically everywhere, and perhaps worst of all, there was still the Second Skybreak, and all of its natural consequences. From what he’d read, it’d been caused by an evil team of Pokemon from Feluv known as Team Folklore, though one of its members, a Hydreigon named Trapper, had no involvement in it. It had apparently broken the multiverse, causing people to fall through Ultra Space and/or get transported directly to the Kyrell Archipelago– and the last thing Braker wanted was for people to get trapped, neither in Ultra Space nor as a Pokemon. Worse yet, Braker was reminded of it every single day whenever he went outside– up above him was a crack in the sky that he figured would suck him in at any moment.

So for practically an entire year, Braker, downtrodden by everything going on in the world, stopped going outside, or doing anything related to the news at all.

His confidence completely shaken, he stopped searching for journalism jobs, and instead tried to look for anything he could do online. Every time, though, he was disappointed whenever he found nothing. He still called his parents every day, and both Elijah and Maria were shaken by Braker’s depressive state. They tried to cheer him up by mentioning various things they had done, such as going to a Weird Al concert– but when they revealed that he’d been sucked through the skybreak and woke up in the Kyrellik Archipelago’s Grass Continent Irforki as a Dracovish, all of Braker’s spirits were lost. Nothing his parents did made Braker feel any better, nor did anything, really.

The one thing that would have even remotely come close was a single headline, on January 8th, 2020:

WILLIAM GISNEP, GISNEP CORPORATION DEFEAT FANATIC; CLOSE MULTIVERSE RIFTS; SKYBREAK OVER 

…but Braker didn’t see that headline, he was so depressed.

Eventually, however, after a long time, Braker finally had accepted the fact that nobody was ever going to hire him, and decided to go outside for the first time. 

He left his house and headed straight to the Wild Area on a Flying Taxi, not taking any notice of the fact that the sky above him had been repaired.

That was in May 2020.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

05/13/2020, Near Motostoke– The Wild Area

Leonard Braker was sitting in the Wild Area, looking out miserably at the Pokemon that were near him. Once again, he never stopped to take any notice of the fact that the Skybreak had been repaired, or the fact that Trainers around him were dropping Gisnep’s name left and right– all he could think about were all his shattered dreams.

He never imagined in a million years that anyone could possibly serve to restore his confidence.

Meanwhile.

On the other side of the Wild Area, a Wobbuffet and a Galvantula were walking side by side and glancing up at the sky, with both of them having very different reactions to the event. The former looked almost too serious regarding the whole thing, though of course, given that he– and it was a he, for the lack of lipstick– was a Wobbuffet, it was only natural for him to look as he did. He had on square glasses and merely took a few cursory glances at the sky, mostly looking over at his arachnid companion. Said Galvantula, meanwhile, looked absolutely delighted– and also very, very fluffy and soft, softer than probably any other Galvantula known to mankind. He turned to face the Wobbuffet, practically boiling over with joy.

<Oh, thank the stars!> he said. <Isn’t this amazing?! Nothing strange or freaky has happened for months now, and it’s all because of Gisnep! Oh, he’s such a good Pokemon! Why, if I were to meet him, I’d thank him personally, and then give him the biggest, floofiest hug in the world!>

The Wobbuffet sighed.

<Cuddles,> he said, <you do remember you liked all the strange and freaky things that happened as a result of the Entralink skybreak, correct?>

The Galvantula– Cuddles– paused.

<...oh, right,> he said. <I did like a lot of the sillier things that happened, didn’t I?>

He giggled to himself a bit.

<Still, though,> he said. <I’m just happy that nobody really got hurt, and that everything’s back to normal again.>

<Yes,> said the Wobbuffet. <I’m especially happy with that– I didn’t like seeing things that were simultaneously true and untrue at the same time.>

Cuddles tilted his head.

<True and untrue?> he asked. <What do you mean by that, Walter?>

<As in, both physically real, and yet at the same time unrealistic,> the Wobbuffet responded. <Your concern was that no one got hurt; my concern was normalcy. We are very much not the same.>

<Oh,> said Cuddles.

He paused suddenly, then looked up at Walter with big sad puppy-dog eyes.

<...is that a bad thing?> he asked. <That’s not a bad thing, is it?>

Walter laughed a bit.

<Oh, no, Cuddles, you don’t have to worry about that,> Walter said patiently. <No, it’s not a bad thing at all. Both of us are different; both of us have different concerns; yet both of our concerns are valid to an extent. The Skybreak was an absolutely traumatizing event for many people, and in that regard, it is good to be concerned about other people getting hurt.>

<Oh!> said Cuddles, brightening pretty quickly. <Well, thank goodness for that!>

<Yes,> agreed Walter, <thank goodness for that indeed.> 

The two of them continued walking along, before Cuddles suddenly noticed something out of the corner of one of his Compound Eyes. 

<…Hey, Walter?> Cuddles suddenly asked. 

<Yes?> Walter asked. 

<I-if nobody got hurt,> Cuddles continued, pointing over to a nearby tree with a sad expression on his face, <then… what’s that person doing over there? He looks sad…> 

Walter tilted his head and turned to face in the direction of where Cuddles was pointing with his pedipalp, and while it wasn’t visible on his face, what he saw concerned him greatly.

Sitting down in front of a tree was a young, early-20 something Afro-Galarian man… and he looked absolutely miserable. 

Walter glanced over at the man, who didn’t appear to have any Pokémon. 

<I’m not sure,> he said.

<D-do you think he might have been hurt?> Cuddles asked, his voice trembling with concern.

<…He doesn’t look hurt,> Walter said, taking another look at the man. 

<Well, do you think he might be sick, then…?> asked Cuddles. <Clearly something happened to him…> 

<I don’t think it’s that, either,> said Walter. <At any rate, I think he’s just… sad, for some reason.> 

<Should we help him?> Cuddles asked.

<I don’t know,> said Walter. <He might have some personal problems that he doesn’t want to get in to.> 

Cuddles paused for a few moments, as if considering Walter’s words, before gaining a determined expression on his face. 

<…Well, I already told myself I wasn’t leaving anybody behind again!> he declared. <I’m going to go help him!> 

With that, he went off in the direction of the Afro-Galarian man, leaving Walter behind. Walter blinked for a few moments, looking after Cuddles, before raising his hand up. 

<…alright, then,> he said. <If that’s what you want to do, I’m not going to stop you.> 

He was about to head off on his way before he stopped to take another look at the man. Now that he thought about it… the man did look miserable, for whatever reason. He had always told himself to stay as far removed as possible from other’s situations, and not try to pry into things without their express permission. That’s how the great news anchors conducted themselves, after all. And yet, at the same time… it didn’t feel right to him to not help this man. He looked too miserable to not have had anything happen to him. 

Perhaps there was a story here, after all. 

<…on second thought, actually…> he muttered to himself for a bit, before eventually nodding as he came to a decision.

His mind made up, he followed Cuddles as he approached the man sitting by the tree.

Leonard Braker was still sitting down by the tree in the Wild Area, looking absolutely miserable, and not really saying much of anything. He had no idea what to think anymore, or what to believe in, or whether or not he truly was going to ever become a journalist. To him, everything seemed far too bleak for him to keep going. On the other hand, though, he was at the very least very happy that he had gotten outside; surely this would be a better fit for his mental health than  staying inside his house the whole time. He took a few deep breaths, and while it did make him feel a bit better… in the end, it didn’t really accomplish much of anything, really.

He looked away for a few moments, opting to focus on the scenery for now, when all of a sudden:

<Excuse me?> 

Braker stopped upon hearing a high-pitched, innocent-sounding, childlike voice coming from near him, though of course to any random person it would sound like a bunch of cheetah-like squeaks and chirps. He turned back in its direction, expecting to see some poor, innocent child, but instead saw only a Galvantula, looking up at him with big, sweet puppy-dog eyes and what looked to be incredibly soft and fluffy… hair? Fur? What exactly was it that a Galvantula had, anyway? 

Well, at any rate, whatever it was, it certainly looked fluffy.

The Galvantula blinked and tilted their head.

<Are you alright, mister?> he asked– for it was a male, as evident by the voice. <You looked really sad over there, so I wanted to see if I could come and help!> 

Immediately, Braker found himself smiling despite his incredible sadness at the moment.

“Well, thank you,” he said. “That’s… rather kind of you, actually.”

<Awww, you’re welcome, mister!> said the Galvantula.

“But yes, I am sad,” said Braker, sighing afterwards. “As a matter of fact, I don’t really feel anything but sadness right now.”

Immediately, the Galvantula’s eyes widened in horror.

<Oh no!> he said. <W-what happened? Are you okay?> 

Before Braker had a chance to respond, he noticed a male Wobbuffet wearing glasses coming up in his direction, following the Galvantula and seeming to have concern for Braker’s state of mind as well. Clearly, Braker figured, these two mons had noticed Braker in his upset state and had come over to help. The Wobbuffet glanced down at the Galvantula for a few moments.

<Cuddles?> the Wobbuffet asked. <What’s going on?>

Instantly, the Galvantula– whose name, apparently, was Cuddles– turned to face the Wobbuffet. Upon seeing him there, Cuddles brightened immediately.

<Walter!> he said. <Thank goodness; you decided to come and help after all! This man over here is quite sad for some reason; I don’t know what’s going on…> 

<I see,> said Walter. <Well, then, in that regard, I suppose it’s a very good thing I came over.> He turned to face Braker. <What exactly is the issue here, young man?>

“Well,” said Braker, “I… I tried to apply for the PEFE University School of Journalism about a year or so ago after I graduated from college, and… I didn’t get in.”

Upon hearing that, Cuddles covered his mouth with his pedipalps in shock. Walter, meanwhile, merely adjusted his glasses.

<Oh no…!> Cuddles gasped.

<A shame,> said Walter. <At any rate, I suppose you could theoretically try again next year.>

“I could ,” Braker admitted, “but why bother, really? If PEFE University, the biggest school in the entire Pokemon world doesn’t want me as a student, and all because of my sexuality at that, then why even bother with becoming a journalist in the first place? Besides, the world is just getting worse and worse, every single day, and nothing anyone ever does is going to cha–”

<Hold on a second,> Walter suddenly broke in. <Am I hearing this correctly? You were rejected because of your sexuality?>

“Well… that wasn’t what they said in the letter they sent me,” said Braker. “The letter told me that I was rejected because my grades weren’t good enough, but I looked up how high your GPA has to be for PEFE to accept you, and they said they accept any GPA higher than 3.0.”

<And your GPA was…?>

“3.4,” said Braker.

<...I see,> said Walter. <Well, then. They’re clearly fraudulent. That is something I won’t stand for in the least. I’d definitely report this, Mr…?>

“Braker,” said Braker. “Leonard Braker.”

<Braker,> repeated Walter. <Well, then. As I said before, this is absolutely something that needs to be reported. This has to go on the news immediately; I simply cannot accept fraudulence like this, and to reject you from attending on the basis of your sexuality… > He shook his head. <Simply unacceptable.>

“I know that,” said Braker. “My father said he wants to sue them.”

<He should,> said Walter.

Braker laughed a bit, the first time he’d done so in a while, before eventually sighing.

“Even so…” he said, “what on Earth am I to do? I had a dream of wanting to be a journalist, but now… if PEFE won’t hire me… then surely I doubt anyone else will…”

<W-what?!> cried Cuddles. <Y-you can’t give up! I’m sure someone’s going to hire you for journalism work someday!>

“It’s too late,” said Braker. “I already gave up a year ago.”

<D-do you need a hug?> asked Cuddles, coming forward. <O-or a cookie? Or anything else to–>

He was suddenly stopped by Walter raising an arm.

<I don’t think he needs those things right now, Cuddles,> said Walter.

<Oh,> said Cuddles sadly, putting his head down. <Sorry.>

Braker glanced at the downtrodden Galvantula for a few moments, not wanting to see the poor thing sad at all. He paused for a bit.

“Actually,” he said, “I could probably use a hug.”

Cuddles instantly brightened upon hearing this, and ran up to Braker in delight.

<Really?> he asked.

Braker nodded, and Cuddles became so excited he jumped up into the air. 

<Yippee!> he said. <Huzzah~! Oh, thank you, Lenny~!> 

Braker laughed again, and Cuddles ran right up to him and wrapped his legs and pedipalps around him in a giant hug.

“My mother calls m–” Braker began– only for him to suddenly stop.

He suddenly felt like he was being surrounded by a massive comforter on all sides, and the resultant hug felt so warm, soft, and relaxing that he barely wanted to let go. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch Cuddles’ fur, and was shocked by what he found– Cuddles’ fur was so soft and warm and fluffy that some part of him almost wondered if Cuddles wasn’t a real Galvantula, and was instead a plush toy. But no, he could feel him breathing. He was definitely real. Braker looked down and once again found himself staring at adorable Galvantula puppy dog eyes, giving him a head-tilt.

<What were you going to say?> Cuddles asked.

Braker, caught off-guard by the hug, didn’t respond initially– but eventually managed to say:

“...M-my mother calls me Lenny.”

Cuddles giggled. Braker’s heart melted almost immediately by how absolutely adorable it was.

<That’s so sweet!> he said. 

“...a-anyways,” Braker began, “as I was saying before, I already gave up a– dear Arceus , your fur is soft! A-are all Galvantula this soft or…?”

<He’s far fluffier than average,> said Walter. 

“I– I can tell!” Braker sputtered out. “This feels so nice I almost don’t want to let go!”

Walter smiled a bit. <He has that effect on most people.> 

Eventually, after a long while, Braker finally pulled away, and glanced down at Cuddles in awe.

“...Cuddles, was it?” he said eventually.

<Yep!> said Cuddles.

“I… hoo !” Braker said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I can see why your name is Cuddles; dear Arceus! That felt really nice, thank you!”

<You’re welcome!> said Cuddles.

“But anyways,” said Braker. “As I was saying before, I’ve already given up on becoming a journalist. I gave up on that a year ago. The world is just too harsh and unforgiving for that kind of thing.” 

Walter and Cuddles blinked.

<Well, that’s not true at all,> said Walter simply.

“...well, there’s been nothing but bad news everywhere I’ve looked,” said Braker.

<That’s not true, either,> said Cuddles. <There’s been a bunch of good news recently! You just haven’t seen it!>

<You never see it, unfortunately,> said Walter. <Practically all that the news wants us to see is bad things, because they’re far more newsworthy nowadays. It is very sad and unfortunate. I remember back in the old days when they would report on actual newsworthy events, many of which were good news events. Not anymore.> 

“Exactly,” said Braker. “Nobody wants to see good news anymore.” 

<No, that’s not true!> said Cuddles. <A lot of people want to see good news! Just because PEFE rejected you doesn’t mean you have to give up on being a journalist! In fact, I think you could be the person the world needs right now by reporting all the good news in the world!>

Braker stopped short for a few moments. He hadn’t thought of that.

“...really?” he asked.

<Really,> said Cuddles.

Braker paused, looking down at Cuddles and over at Walter in shock.

“I– I don’t know if I can do that,” he said, “where can I find–” 

<Lenny?> Cuddles suddenly asked softly.

“...what?” Braker asked.

<Look at the sky,> said Cuddles, pointing directly up at it with a pedipalp.

Braker slowly followed Cuddles’ gaze, looking up at the sky above him for the first time in a long time. He blinked for a bit, not seeming to notice much of anything.

“...what is it?” he asked. “I don’t see anything.”

<Exactly,> said Cuddles.

Braker glanced at him, a bit confused– and all of a sudden his eyes widened and his heart raced with excitement as he slowly began to realize it.

“Wait a minute !” he said. “They– they closed the Skybreak!” 

<Yes!> said Cuddles happily. <That’s what I wanted you to see!>

Braker looked over at Walter in absolute shock.

“How… how on Earth– when did this happen?!” he cried out.

<You didn’t see anything about this, did you?> asked Walter. 

“N-no!” Braker said. “Not at all!”

<It happened in January 2020,> said Walter. <Only a few months ago. Gisnep and the Gisnep Corporation defeated this thing called the Fanatic and closed up the gaps in the sky.> 

Braker stood there, mouth agape, looking up in awe at the now-closed sky he had failed to notice all those months ago in the midst of his depression. He looked over at Walter and Cuddles in utter disbelief.

“W-why– why on Earth didn’t I see anything about this?!” he asked. “This sounds like major breaking news!” 

<It was ,> said Walter. <Just about every major news station posted about it, and it was all over Chatter and UTurn and other social media sites. The only problem was that people weren’t clicking on the good news stories, and if they did see it, they were mainly focused on the one bad aspect of it.>

“Which is…?” asked Braker.

<That the infighting between the members of the Gisnep Corporation led to the Fanatic’s summoning,> said Walter. 

“Oh,” said Braker.

<Everybody on social media was sending death threats to executives of the Gisnep Corporation,> Cuddles added. <It was awful.> 

“Death threats?!” cried Braker. “And for what?! Nobody deserves death threats for anything!”

<Precisely my point,> said Walter.

At once, Braker rose, incensed by the whole thing.

“T-this is huge !” Braker cried out. “This news is so good it deserves to be reported! Nobody should be sending Gisnep executives death threats! I can’t believe that nobody saw this!” 

<Well, would you like to report it?> asked Walter.

“Y-yes!” Braker said. “Absolutely! If anyone’s going to report this news it’s going… to be… me…” 

He suddenly trailed off, hit by a realization as he stared over at Walter and Cuddles in shock. After a few moments, he laughed in uproarious joy the likes of which he hadn’t felt since he had graduated high school.

“Well, what do you know!” he said happily. “I– I think I’ve got my confidence back!”

<Huzzah~!> Cuddles cried out.

<That,> said Walter, <is precisely what we wanted to achieve. I’m happy to hear it, Braker.> 

Braker grinned.

“Oh, thank you!” he said. “Thank you two so much! I… I really needed that!”

<You’re welcome!> said Cuddles.

<Same here,> said Walter. <Well, then, in that regard, I suppose we should be on our way now. We’ve done what we came here to do.> He started off, motioning for Cuddles to follow him. <Farewell.>

Braker was about to say goodbye to them and see if he could go and record something about the good news of the Fanatic’s defeat– but all of a sudden he stopped.

He felt like he owed something to the two mons he’d just seen right now. They had, in more ways than one, helped to bolster his confidence back up: Walter by giving him the straight truth of the world and empathizing with Braker’s plights about the news, and Cuddles by showing Braker the sun that was hidden underneath all of the clouds. There was absolutely no way he could leave those two mons behind– especially poor Cuddles, who he didn’t want to see sad in the least! 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an OB-1 and two PokeBalls. He hadn’t used that OB-1 since the day he got it, since it had something he couldn’t yet use, and didn’t feel very comfortable using. 

Now, however… now. Now he felt ready.

He clenched onto both of the PokeBalls and nodded, then stepped forward.

“Hold on!” he said.

Walter and Cuddles both turned to face Braker, who was walking towards them with a grateful smile on his face.

<Oh?> asked Walter.

<Is something the matter?> asked Cuddles.

“No… nothing’s the matter,” said Braker. “As a matter of fact, I think both of you really helped me today.”

He held up his two PokeBalls.

“I’ve always said I would get my first Pokemon when I was ready,” he said. “How’d you two like to celebrate the occasion?” 

Walter stood there in absolute shock, while Cuddles’ reaction was enthusiastic and immediate– he ran forwards, and started jumping up and down in pure joy.

<Yes, yes, yes~!> he said. <Oh, thank you thank you thank you sooo much! We’re going to have an absolutely great time together! I’m going to give you so many hugs, and tons of cookies, and lots of warm soft blankets to snuggle on, and–>

<A-alright, Cuddles,> said Walter, approaching him, <let’s not get overboard, now.>

He turned to face Braker.

<You want us to be your starter Pokemon?> he said simply.

“Yes,” said Braker.

<Well, then,> said Walter. <In that case, I would be honored.> 

Braker smiled.

“Thank you…” he said. “...Walter, you said it was?”

<Yes.> 

“As in Cronkite?”

<The very same.>

“Well then!” Braker clapped once, then held up the two PokeBalls. “That’s all I need to know!” 

With that said, he threw both of his two PokeBalls into the air, and simultaneously Walter tapped it with his arm and Cuddles tapped it with his pedipalp. Just as simultaneously, the two mons got sucked into their PokeBalls, and they fell to the floor within seconds. Braker watched, his heart racing, as the two PokeBalls began to shake.

1. 

2.

3.

… click ! 

Braker instantly broke out into a massive grin, pumping his fist enthusiastically as he pulled out his Pokedex.

“Yes!” he said. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes~! Hahaaaaa!”

Immediately, he scanned both of the PokeBalls, and within a few seconds information about them popped up onto the screen:

Name: Walter
Gender: Male
Species: Wobbuffet
Nature: Calm
Characteristic: Sturdy body
Current moveset: Counter, Mirror Coat, Destiny Bond, Encore, Safeguard, Amnesia

Name: Cuddles
Gender: Male
Species: Galvantula
Nature: Jolly
Characteristic: Impetuous and silly
Current moveset: Electroweb, Volt Switch, Thunder Wave, Electro Ball, Swift, Facade, Protect, Disable, Giga Drain, Rain Dance 

Braker nodded upon seeing the information.

“Hm,” he said. “Calm and Jolly. I suppose those fit well enough.”

He reached the Pokedex for his pocket. “Now to call my pa–”

DING! 

DING!  

“Hm?”

Braker instantly pulled his Pokedex back to himself, and all of a sudden saw two notifications that made his jaw drop. 

Hasslemon handle: trustedAnchorman (TA)

Hasslemon handle: floofSpooder (FS)

He laughed a bit upon seeing Cuddles’s handle, then sighed with contentment as he put away his Pokedex.

“Well!” he said. “I suppose I’ll talk to them later. For now, though…”

He pulled out his OB-1 and hit the button labeled CALL, before inserting his father’s phone number. Excitedly, he held the OB-1 up to his face for a few moments while it rung; seconds later his father’s face appeared on the other end of the line.

“ Hello? ” Elijah asked.

“Hello, dad,” said Braker.

“ Oh, hey, Len! ” said Elijah happily. “ Calling me on your OB-1, I see! ”

“Yes, there’s a reason for that,” said Braker. “Remember how I said that I’d capture my first Pokemon when I was ready?” 

Elijah paused for a bit and stopped short.

“ Y-you didn’t!” he said.

Braker nodded. “I got two in fact; a Wobbuffet named Walter and a Galvantula named Cuddles.”

“ No way! ” cried Elijah. “ That’s amazing, Len! I gotta tell your mother; she’ll go crazy to hear you have a Galvantula on your team. ”

“I’m sure she will,” Braker responded, laughing.

“ So… did you get these two mons today? ” Elijah asked. “ Or… ”

“No, I got them today,” said Braker. “And needless to say… I think they restored my confidence.”

“ Well, that is wonderful news ,” said Elijah. “ So now that you have them, are you planning to do anything with them? ”

“I don’t know,” said Braker; “I think I might just come back home and show them to–”

He stopped all of a sudden, pausing and glancing back towards the massive city of Motostoke that was near him.

…no, he realized. No, he couldn’t just come back home. He was a Trainer now; he had two mons.

And there was only one thing a Trainer with two mons could do in this day and age. 

“ ...Hello? ” Elijah asked from the other end.

Braker grinned.

“Actually,” he said, “would you mind doing me a huge favor?”

“ Oh, yeah, sure! ” said Elijah. “ What is it? ”

Braker turned back to Motostoke Stadium in the distance, all the while still on the phone.

“...would you mind sponsoring me so that I can register for the League?”