Shit. Let's be pokemon trainers. An AU

[lexavian]

I think we already have some semblances of roles so far...

I meant I got them to fit all the major nongang roles. Those who take starter pokemon, the champion, and the gym trainers.
Also, as I edited into my last post, there is no canon.

[JordanTH]

Well I have a headcanon so there

nyeh

[battlerek]

@Everyone- Rose as a talented pokemon coordinator is so awesome.

Journey of the Crab: Enter the calm, collected foil

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Karkat didn't stay in Lowas for long. As soon as he was able to walk he left the small town that had been his home for many years. With Will Smith and Fuckass by his side he steamrolled through every wild pokemon in his path as he travelled the road from Lowas to the beachside city of Lolar.

Compared to Lowas, Lolar was a much, much better place to live in. It was city several times larger than his hometown, and the purple-tinted stone that composes about half the building material used in Lolar looked a lot better than plain-old wood. There was a lot of activities that could be done in Lolar, whether you felt like taking on the local gym leader, wanted to see a spectacle in Lolar's contest dome, or simply enjoyed a nice afternoon spent kicking sand in people's faces. The best part was the lack of stinky swamp smell, replaced instead by the scent of the sea.

The first thing Karkat did was to beat as many kids in inner tubes as he could on the beach. It was so fun seeing the kids burst into tears as his krabby beat down their caterpies. So fun, so fun. Oshawott refused to join in the buffet of easy experience, but he ended up fighting anyway when some douche began to tell him to 'pick on someone his own size'.

"Go, Sandshrew!" The faggot who cared for the psyches of 6 year olds declared. A small mouse-like pokemon with segmented plates covering its body save for its soft underbelly came out of its pokeball. "You'll pay for making those kids cry!"

"Yeah, whatever you say. Will Smith, shut this fucker up. Vice Grip!" Krabby well, crab-walked towards Sandshrew to tear a new one through its soft underbelly. It should've been an easy win, were it not for Sandshrew rolling up into a ball and tackling Krabby.

"Godamn it, Will Smith! You're too fucking slow!" Karkat withdrew his Krabby and sent out Oshawott. "Fuckass, do the shelly thing!"

Shelly thing? What was his master talking about? Oshawott didn't have a move called Shelly thing, because that would be a silly name to give to a move that lets you cut people apart with a shell powered by a jet of water like a piston. Yes, who would ever be silly enough to call a move Shelly-oh shit!

Oshawott's thoughts were interrupted by the enemy sandshrew rudely knocking him off his feet with a rollout. How rude. Oshawott got back on his feet and shot a jet of water at the attacking Sandshrew. The Sandshrew countered by spinning at a higher speed, creating a shield of sand that blocked most of the water from Oshawott's attack. It was followed up by Sandshrew tackling Oshawott. It was like being hit with a both a crossbow bolt and the crossbow itself.

This was bad. If Oshawott failed to stop Sandshrew Karkat was going to lose. Even worse, this douchebag will probably make him apologize to a bunch of kids. And out of all the horrible things that could happen to him, admitting he was being harsh when he screamed obscenities at little Pamela while Krabby effortlessly beat her azurill was the worse.

"Come on, Fuckass! You just have to remove that dick SHELL on your chest, and use it like a fucking sharp RAZOR." Oshawott scratched his head in confusion, then got hit by a ricochetting Sandshrew. "FUUUUUUUCK!!!"

"I believe the proper term that you are seeking is Razor Shell." Someone said behind him. Well, he had nothing to lose, so why not?

"Razor Shell, Oshawott!"

Something inside Oshawott's head began to click. It's a known fact that pokemon breeded by humans retain memories of abilities learned by their parents more frequently than those in the wild. What's less known is that this also included the names their parent's trainers assigned to their moves. The end result was that all a trainer had to do was say the name of an attack, and they would do it as if the move was encoded into their genes, which it was.

Moving by instinct passed on through the generations, Oshawott lashed out at Sandshrew with his shell. It was a critical hit.

"Hah, in your face moral fag!" Karkat yelled triumphantly. "And you kids better not forget this fucking day!"

"That was very good. I presume your Oshawott is an official league starter? I can tell by the pattern on its shell."

The young man who helped Karkat out approached Oshawott and gently stroked his head. "Such fine fur. Usually this gets breeded out of Oshawott used by trainers in favor of a tougher but coarser coat. Forgive me for asking, but are you a pokemon coordinator who occasionally battles to perfect your style on the stage?"

"Sorry, what?" Karkat blurted out.

"My sincerest apologies." The person, now that Karkat got a better look, was a girl. She was a troll, just like him, with horns that were almost as short as his. By the way she dressed she didn't seem like the outdoors type, but he couldn't deny how bright her dress was. Behind her was a caterpillar pokemon with multiple horns on its head, and a white mane of hair that would impress those with an eye for quality. "I have yet to formally introduce myself. Kanaya Maryam, Pokemon Breeder and aspiring Coordinator."

"Karkat Vantas." He extended his hand and shook hers. "Natural Leader and soon to best there ever fucking was!"

Kanaya stiffled a laugh. "You remind me of a young human I met last year. He had the same aspirations as you do, though he did not express these through obviously unfair battles with children on the beach."

"It builds character, losing to someone clearly better than them. Pretty soon they'll be training their asses off in the hope they'll never lose that easily again. Believe me, they'll thank me for it!"

"I see. That would seem a viable way to raise children. On the other hand it would be better to add a caring hand to an iron fist."

"Sounds interesting. I suppose fuckass could do with a little break. He won't be much of a fighter if I don't give him some slack once in a while." Karkat was surprised. For some bizarre reason he's spent a good 5 minutes talking to this girl and not once did he get pissed off. Kanaya seemed to positively bask in an aura of calmness and understanding, like a best friend, except she doesn't make you want to throttle her after 3 minutes of talking about horrible movies.

"Thank you very much for your consideration of my opinions." Kanaya approached the loser Karkat just beat and began to talk to him. Karkat didn't hear anything, but the douchebag merely nodded at everything she said and left the beach, leaving Karkat with only an angry glare. "Now that that's finished with, would you like to join me and Guadalupe here for the 12:60 coordinator competition at the dome?"

"You mean 1:00 right?" He wasn't doing anything anyway, and besides she helped him out in a pinch. It's the least he could do.

"Technically, yes, but the Dome owner thinks it sounds much better that way."

"Well, lead the way."

A/N

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Well I was supposed to introduce Rose in this chapter, but then Kanaya happened.

I might feature Rose next, but I haven't decided yet.

[Ganato]

I thought for sure that was Rose.

Psyched!

[Shadow of the Lotus]

I personally prefer the all four kids as trainers, but that's me.

[A Fan]

Wait, I'm establishing part of some kind of widely held canon? When did this happen?

...

You know what, I'm actually cool with this. My ideas matter, in some oblique, nerdy sense. That said, I feel kind of bad about disrupting the town naming theme, but just naming towns the analogous Land acronym felt... Well, no offense meant, but I thought I could do better than that.

And, before I dig myself any deeper, more JotS.

Journey of the Scales, Chapter 3

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>Terezi: Be Karma.

You cannot be Karma, because Karma is too busy feasting on the vital fluids of several Rattata!

>Random NPC: Appear.

As Terezi, you pause as the omnipresent green gives way to a trolloid shape. The shape greets you, and judging from the volume and timbre of that voice, it is a young male human.

"Hello."
"Hey, you know those ledges scattered along the path?"
Terezi considered this. There had been the occassional café-latté scented extrusion from the ground, but they were at best knee-high. Calling them "ledges" would be like calling her "Your Honorable Tyranny." Good for the ego, but inaccurate.
The boy continued heedless. "Well, you can jump down them as a quick way to get back to Neura Village! Isn't that great?"
Terezi smiled and nodded, recalling her past experience with the suspiciously chipper. "Uh huh." A suspicion entered her mind. "Hey, speaking of Neura Village, do you know a kind of tubby guy who lives there, way too enthusiastic about technology?"
The boy considered this. Terezi could actually smell the amount of concentration it took for him to process the question, a scent oddly akin to burning plastic. "Sounds kind of like my Uncle Lou, but I don't know—"
"Thought so. Come on, Karma."

Apparently, a love of overstating the obvious is a genetically inherited trait amongst humans. You add it to your ongoing mental analysis of the strange species. While most of your friends have dismissed the locals as simply being too weird to understand, you continue to try and chip away at the internal worlds of humanity. So familiar, and yet so alien. It fascinates you.

>==>

You are now a Derse Corporation covert operative, sent by Mr. Boxcars himself to keep an eye on the strange grey girl currently muttering to her Zubat, or possibly herself.

>Enter name.

That won't be necessary. While your actual name is a closely guarded secret, your current designation is WANDS VERT. You are a seasoned professional when it comes to imperceptibly tracking a target for as long as OH MY GOODNESS WHO PUT ALL THIS GREEN HERE!?

>WV: Calm down

You are finding it exceedingly difficult to do so! In the past, your deployments have largely been to DESERTS AND SIMILARLY DESOLATE AREAS, where the only presence of was usually a cactus, and on occasion a Pokémon that wanted to drive its spiky limbs into your TENDER, UNCARAPCED FLESH.
You make a point of your body's MARKED ABSENCE OF AN EXOSKELETON because you specialize in Pokémon for whom THE OPPOSITE IS TRUE. You admire their sleek, shiny curves and robust, rugged extrusions, while they admire your ability to NOT SUCK AT STEALTH. Again, just the opposite. Other members of Derse Corp's black ops division (who significantly outnumber its white ops division and are in a continuing battle with grey ops for much of the funding,) have said that there is little hope of beating you in a stealth contest. You are simply one of the best there are.
Of course, this primarily applies in an arid terrain, not one so HORRIBLY, WONDERFULLY GREEN.

>Realize that foliage actually provides more places to conceal yourself

It is not a matter of concealment with which you are concerned, especially since you rely more on camouflage. You have a THING about the color green, and at these volumes, you're finding it hard to focus. You briefly curse the luck that had made you the closest person to Mr. Boxcars's location when he sent out the summons.
Fortunately, your target marks a sharp contrast with her surroundings, being mostly grey and black, with a few accents of red and a teal that is blue enough to keep you from flying further off the handle. You resolve yourself to, in the words of the great spy novelist Tom Clancy, "keep your mind on your quarry and your quarry on your mind." You are almost certain Tom Clancy wrote that.

>Elaborate on your thing with green

Being the professional that you are, you manage to avoid visibly flipping the fuck out as you frantically abjure that idea. You're trying to stay focused here!

>Examine quarry's egg

Ah yes, the egg. The real reason you're here on the heavily vegetated Via Oblongata (or, for those prosaic douches with no poetry in their souls, Route 12) that lies between Neura Village and Pyrotex City, a suburb of Attelas City that slowly acquired a sense of its own identity from the steady influx of both industrial workers and applicants to Lobaf University.
The egg itself appears to be mercifully devoid of any distracting greenery, though you can only say that about the portions you can see. According to the briefing you received en route, its caretaker is only a neophyte Trainer, but it appears that she is quite experienced in the care and maintenance of living eggs. You nod approvingly. The proper, careful tending of life in its most precious and vulnerable state is, in your mind, a most admirable skill for anyone to possess.

>Report to superiors

You have learned from experience that overly frequent status reports only attract negative attention from those higher on the chain of command. And it is, after all, your job to avoid notice. However, you do begin mentally composing your first status report as another way to bulwark your mind against the omnipresent GREEN.

>Be the Team English operative

Team English operative? What Team English operative? You are certain that there is no Team English operative in the immediate area, and certainly not one wearing an orange hat that would indicate him as a subordinate to Fin, and thus an espionage and infiltration expert. And, if there was one, his code name certainly wouldn't be DOORS. Frankly, you find the whole idea a bit silly.

>Alright, Mr. Oddly Specific Denial. Then who exactly finds the whole idea a bit silly?

...crap. Oh well, you suppose that if the only person aware of your presence is on the other end of the fourth wall, it can't be that bad. Yeah, you're Doors. Doors al-Fin, according to your more wordplay-inclined peers. Despite the name, you wouldn't call yourself the boss's top agent, but you're probably in the top five. For now, though, you're going to just wait, watch, and follow. And that goes for both the kid with the Egg and the mook from Derse. Guy may not look impressive, but hey, neither do you.

>Terezi: Be blissfully unaware of elaborate machinations surrounding you.

What elaborate machinations? You are certain that—

>We just did that joke

Oh, really? Well, clearly you are quite unaware of whatever machinations may or may not be surrounding you. In any case, you are positive you have nearly arrived in Pyrotex City. Faint whiffs of urban aromas and plainly artificial colors are being carried on the breeze. Yes, you just have a few more steps of tall grass before—

>Tall Grass: Produce one last random encounter

Well, crap.

>Random Encounter: Be a Pidgey.

Well, judging from how it smells like there's a cotton-stuffed leather wallet hovering in front of you, it appears that the random encounter accepted that command.

"Karma, feel up to one more?"
"Zhh!"
"That's what I like to hear. Leech Life!"

>Leech Life: Be not very effective.

Bug attack versus Flying type. It was going to be so anyway.

>Terezi: Abscond?

You can tell that far too little of the Pidgey's delicious-smelling blood (gog, you love the biology of this region,) was drained by Karma's attack. You suspect that either your ally is tired, or you're on the wrong end of a type mismatch. You turn to break left and leave the battle, but there appears to be another cotton-stuffed wallet in your way. Turning to your right reveals a similar situation. A deep breath indicates that you and Karma are, in fact, surrounded by Pidgeys.
In retrospect, you were running into an awfully disproportionate number of Rattata...

[Ganato]

OH RANDOM ENCOUNTERS

WHEN SHALL YOU NOT FUCK EVERYTHING OVER?

I, too, think that all the kids should be trainers.

Mind you, I don't think that stops anybody from being something else as well.

To complete Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and the games after that generation you need to be both a trainer and a coordinator.

So I think it would make sense if Rose was a trainer, taking part in the forbidden art of coordination.

[JordanTH]

To complete Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and the games after that generation you need to be both a trainer and a coordinator.

Um

Not really

[Ganato]

You do, if you want all the stars on your trainer card.

I'm not talking about catching every pokémon and beat the E4 here.

100% completion is what I'm talking about.

[Raizor]

And it's worth noting that it's called a trainer card not a pokemon related thing card

[Masterly]

Well being a trainer doesn't exclude you from being a coordinator. But I do think there's a distinction between being a league battler and being a normal trainer. I think anyone who raises pokemon, is to some extent, a 'trainer'. But trainers who go after the Pokemon League challenge and fight past the requisite gyms are a little different.

[Blox]

Here's Aradia C:
Something about her is bugging me but my eyes are hurting so I'll fix it later |D




Also, possible Gamzee pokemon~

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Mime Jr. - Miracle
Scrafty - Sopor? (His stoner buddy )

Some sort of powerful/ruthless pokemon (used primarily during personality flips) such as Dusknoir/tyranitar/Hydreigon

and perhaps a Spinda

Edit: This was my 100th post, well spent B)

[Metaflare]

haha, yessss explorin' hat :>

[JordanTH]

That is an amazing Aradia sprite. Yes.

[Kisame12]

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So we have most of Dave's team decided, right?

Sandile's fully evolved form, Krookodile
Murkrow (with BlackGlasses)
Snivy (with BlackGlasses)
Charmeleon
Klink's fully evolved form, Klinklang
???

He had a Growlithe, but he traded it to Jade for Snivy.

And Jade named it Bec.

Maybe a Scizor or Ninjask, they're fast and hit pretty hard and I feel that the Scizor embodies a lot of Dave's 'Knight' traits as well.

Those are good choices, but I think that Scizor would be more of Karkat's thing. Its even more appropriate if you remember that Scizor evolves from Scyther.

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DAD? IS THAT YOU, YOU FUCKASS?

[Domoz]

Man spriting is way to much fun. Too bad I am terrible at it :V

[mythmonster2]

Oh God, Scizor looks basically like a streamlined Crabdad. Karkat should have one, definitely.

[Quirk]

Other members of Derse Corp's black ops division (who significantly outnumber its white ops division and are in a continuing battle with grey ops for much of the funding,)...

This is now headcanon.

Revised Team English

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Revised with A Fan's input, organized roughly from lowest to highest in hierarchy. No time powers except for English and maybe Scratch.

Grunts
Pokemon - Klink, Sableye
Duty – Anything and everything.
Minions – They are the minions


Eggs
Pokemon – Exeggscute
Duty – Odd jobs
Minions - None

Biscuits
Pokemon - Slowpoke
Duty – Odd jobs
Minions -None

Clover
Pokemon - Clefable
Duty – Accounting and funding, odd jobs
Minions - Few


Cans
Pokemon – Hariyama, Hitmonchan
Duty – Thug work
Minions - Moderate

Quarters
Pokemon - Poliwhirl
Duty – Thug work
Minions - Moderate

Matchsticks
Pokemon – Heatmor, Magcargo
Duty – Vandalism, destruction of evidence
Minions –Few

Sawbuck
Pokemon – Snorlax
Duty - Transportation and logistics
Minions - Moderate



Itchy
Pokemon – Yanmega, Ninjask, Weavile
Duty – Oversees short-term actions (raids, etc)
Minions - Many

Doze
Pokemon – Shuckle, Bronzong, Slaking
Duty – Oversees sleeper cells and long-term plans.
Minions - Many



Trace
Pokemon – Sharpedo
Duty – Blackmail and extortion
Minions - Moderate

Fin
Pokemon - Xatu
Duty – Threat assessment, R&D
Minions - Moderate


Die
Pokemon: Toxicroak
Duty: Covert operations. Assassinations, scientific research, internal security, and intelligence.
Minions: Few.


Crowbar
Pokemon –Marowak, Farfetch’d
Duty – Internal affairs and management. Any operations in need of serious competence and firepower. Smack-downs.
Minions - Many


Stitch
Pokemon – Chansey, Audino
Duty- Medical officer.
Minions – Has 10-12 Chansey nurses, who he despises.


Doc Scratch
Pokemon - Wobbuffet
Duty – Head co-administrator
Minions – Everyone who’s not Snowman or Lord English.

Snowman
Pokemon – Drifblim, Absol
Duty – Head co-Administrator
Minions – Everyone who’s not Doc Scratch or Lord English.


Lord English
Pokemon – Unknown. Possibly legendary or glitch, possibly none.
Duty – Boss of Team English.
Minions – All the minions. All of them.

Elite Four Ideas

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I couldn't just make one, so I have four groups of the Elite Four. I think that, in order to keep things secretive, they switch it around randomly, like Guardians are on Wednesdays and Saturdays, unless you're expecting them or something along those lines.

Guardians

Mr. Egbert – Focus on the normal type. Generally goes for a very solid support team on both offense and defense.

Ms Lalonde – Eclectic team lineup type wise, going for more of a “science-y” feel to them. Focuses on messing with stats and applying status effects.

Bro Strider – Strategy relies on speed and attack power. Favored types are fire, fighting, and steel. Watch out for his wild card Bannette, Cal.

Hass “The Flame” Harley – Rock-solid defense. His job is to wear you down and wear you out, which is what will happen when your precious hydro-pump does diddily-squat. Focuses on exotic type combinations.

Fedorafreak – Team consists of a lvl 1 Magnemite, a lvl 1 Ducklett, a lvl 1 Girafarig, a lvl 1 Shroomish, and a lvl 1 Pineco.

He will proceed to punch your face to establish authority.

Exiles

Wayward Vagabond – Specializes in ground type, with quick attacks and over-use of sandstorm and dig as a focus.

Peregrine Mendicant – Specializes in flying and normal type. Strategy is more one of solid support and attack power over speed or

Aimless Renegade – Team specializes in heavy attack. Several steel types.

Windswept Questant – Goes for a more graceful strategy, specializing in normal and psychic types.

Writ Keeper – No specific type.

Ancestors

Neophyte Redglare – Focus on the dragon type. A very even team.

Orphaner Dualscar – Focus on Psychic and dark types.

Marquise Spinneret Mindfang – Specializes in poison types. Fond of using toxic and lucky critical hits.

Gamcestor – His guys can one-hit you without a critical if you let them. Don’t let them. Types vary.

The Empress – Standard well-rounded champion stuff. Obligatory overpowered Milotic.

Denizens

Typheus – Specializes in flying and dark types.

Cetus – Specializes in water type.

Hephaestus – Specializes in fire and steel types.

Echidna – Specializes in ice type.

The Black King – No specific type.

An Incident in Lotam Town, Part 2

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“You’re free to go, Makara.”

The key clanked in the lock and the steel-barred door slid open. Officer Dick of the Prosperity Initiative Police Force stood with the ring of keys in one hand, the other hand hovering by his belt of Pokeballs as he eyed the prisoner suspiciously. Of course, Officer Ace Dick eyed everyone suspiciously, but for this particular person he had added an extra helping of mistrust and paranoia.

The gym leader stood up, brushing imaginary dust off of his spotted pants and purple greatcoat. At full height, the lanky troll towered over Officer Dick, a state that was not terribly difficult, as Officer Dick was very, very short, and Gamzee Makara was, to put it eloquently “motherfucking tall”. He had to duck to step out of the cell, and even then his horns scraped the hallway ceiling. Given that he was a troll, his age was indistinct. He could look both young and old just from different angles.

“You have my motherfucking thanks, my brother. Don’t bother with the show, I’ll see myself the motherfuck out.”

Gamzee half-sauntered, half-loped, half-gangled, and half-ambled down the hall, as well as several other words describing walk cycles that had yet to be invented. It wasn’t particularly hard, as he consisted mostly of arms and legs and had a stride longer than many people were tall. Within mere moments he was at the front desk. The man on duty was one of those generic pale people who seemed to pop up no matter what job it was: he had set out Gamzee’s confiscated possessions with almost obsessive-compulsive neatness. Gamzee retrieved the items: his personal Pokenav, ball belt, wallet, a few random items, a bag of candy corn, and a flask. It was, to his disappointment, empty, and it too disappeared into his voluminous coat pockets.

Gamzee nodded at the pale man at the desk and walked out of the police station. He cleared the four steps to the street in a single stride before walking down the sidewalk. A troll, feigning interest in his ‘nav, stood by the police station bike rack. Not even turning his head, Gamzee reached up and caught the flask the troll tossed at him. he took a long swig, followed by a satisfied sigh. He wiped the green fluid from his lips with the back of his glove.

“Aaaaaaaaah…this is the motherfucking nectar and ambrosia. Elixer of life and all that shit.”

--

Die slumped against a tree. His Toxicroak was out of commission, his head ached, his body was slowly turning to a singular bruise, and he was quite certain several ribs were broken. He had been foolish to run into the situation that quickly. He didn’t think it through, and it had cost him. He spat into his hand: another tooth. That was five so far.

There was a rustle from the bushes beyond. Die reached for his knife, only to release his grip when he felt another blade press itself against his neck.

“You are an embarrassment.” A raspy voice hissed in his ear. Die’s eyes opened wide in fear as he felt an instant of pain in his neck region, before crumpling to the ground.

Die straightened himself up, sheathing his knife. His Gulpin could take care of the body easily, though Droog was another story. This botched assassination would have him wary.
Die opened up a private channel to headquarters. He needed to speak to Die.

--

Rose LaLonde peered at the gym, or at least what the sign said was the gym. The building itself looked as if it had parts demolished and rebuilt at least a dozen times prior, each time using a different contractor who took the laws of physics and architectural aesthetics as simple insinuations. This was overlooking the fact that the façade appeared to have been painted by a team of intoxicated Smeargle, and currently consisted of no less than seventeen different colors. The rest of the place looked abandoned.

But yet the sign said

Lotam Town Gym
Leader: Gamzee Makara

Rose shrugged, walked up to the door, and entered.

While she was completely successful in walking through the door, finding it perfectly serviceable and experiencing no setbacks or holdups in the operation of said door-opening, she was not quick enough to miss the bucket of whitewash that splattered down upon her as soon as she had both feet inside.

She considered turning back for a moment, but decided against it. if she was going to get this badge, she would do so with honor.

The next hour proved to her that there was no honor amongst juggalos.

The gym was a Byzantine labyrinth of funhouse frivolities: halls of mirrors, secret doors, false floors, spring-launched pies and plastic gags. The walls were painted in outlandish colors, swarming with goofy, grinning clown faces. The eyes seemed to watch her as she made her way deeper into the gym. In the background, she could hear music, a carousel theme, played over crackly speakers. She could almost feel her sanity slipping away.

But then, finally, she made it to the center. Aside from the traps and pratfalls, she had been unchallenged: the gym itself, with its dark, twisting and thoroughly claustrophobic passages was more difficult to overcome than any trainer. Rose now stood, plastered in whitewash and pranked to madness and back, in a wide circular room lit around the edge by muted lighting.

There was a grind of hidden machinery as a circular panel opened up in the floor. Artificial smoke poured from the hole as a pedestal rose from the pit. A black figure, silhouetted against the dim, pulsing lights in the background stood atop it, arms outstretched.

“Welcome to the dark carnival, my motherfucking brother!”

The room exploded into light and sound. The garishly painted walls were accompanied by equally bombastic music and flashing strobes guaranteed to trigger epileptic seizures to anyone standing within three miles of the place. Mechanical contraptions of great complexity and lacking point shuddered to life, including a band made of several poorly constructed animatronic Loudred. Gamzee Makara, now lit fully by the spotlights pointed at the pedestal, held his arms open and his fangs bared in a wide smile in triumphant celebration of his circus of horrors. He shifted his head slightly to view his challenger. This was quickly followed by his face falling to the sort of flat expression one gets upon the realization that something has gone amiss.

“Oh…you’re a chick. So then….uh…okay, I got this shit. Welcome to the dark carnival, the place of your deepest motherfucking nightmares and shit et cetera et cetera, my motherfucking sister. There we go, man.”

Gamzee hopped down from his platform, which then retracted into the floor. A Pokeball appeared in his hand. Then, a flash of light, a crackle of electricity, a gleam of polished steel. Gamzee looked upon the Pokemon with both religious awe and childlike joy.

“Fucking Magnetons, how do they work?”

tl;dr Gamzee is an awesome gym leader.

[Masterly]

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Maybe a Flygon or an Illumise for WV, perhaps even both.

[Rio]

Excellent story, Quirk. And I love every time JotS and JotC is updated. Also loving the ideas.

[A Fan]

@Quirk:
(I would not recommend reading this before part 2 of An Incident in Lotam Town)

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Die
Minions: Mostly Himself (or at least quite a few other people named Die)

Genius

Also, Gamzee is the best Gym Leader. The best. Also also, Juggalo needs to be a kind of Trainer.

[Masterly]

So are all of the kids/trolls around the same age? Did they all leave at around the same time, or was it more spaced out?

[battlerek]

Gamzee is clearly the most awesome gym leader ever. It makes me feel stupid that I only thought of him as a Brock analogue for Karkat, when he was clearly meant for better things.

[mythmonster2]

Gamzee should even still be the same age as the other trolls; he's just so awesome he became a gym leader at 13.

[Volpicks]

I agree with mythmonster. But you know what character hasn't been featured in any fics yet? Tavros. I like to think that he is to the Homestuck AU as Red was in HeartGold/SoulSilver: A legendary trainer of great renown that's even tougher than the Elite Four. He is the greatest fiduspawn player that ever lived after all, and his communion abilities allow him to build a bond with his Pokemon closer than any other trainer alive.