Missed Signals, Lost Lines

by Cryptographic DeLurk

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AN: The Fame Checker, for those of you who don't remember, or those of you who are only familiar with Red/Blue/Yellow, is a feature of FireRed/LeafGreen that allows you to collect information about various people you come across, ie. Gym Leaders. But I've expanded on its uses and explained appropriately, so knowledge about the original Fame Checker isn't really necessary. It's really all about Red.

Also, despite the FireRed/LeafGreen inspiration, I'm not really following FireRed/LeafGreen canon, or any one canon really, so much as picking elements from all of them as they serve my purposes. Mea culpa, and on with the show!


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"Oh yeah, right. I feel sorry for you. No, really. You're always plodding behind me. So here, I'll give you a little present as a favour…"

Green smiles condescendingly, like Red didn't just win their Pokémon battle by a landslide.

Green seems completely unaffected, though. He doesn't rifle messily through his bag, he's too cool for that now, but he casually reaches into his pocket and tosses the device at Red, who doesn't fumble too much trying to catch it.

"A chatty gossip like you… That thing's perfect. I don't need it because I don't give a hoot about others."

Green's wrong on both accounts of course. Red's not chatty. He doesn't talk at all, if he can get away with staying silent. He's had enough of people laughing at his stilted words and hodgepodge grammar for one lifetime. And Green has had enough of people laughing at him for Red's issues for one lifetime, too. That's why he pulled away in the first place. So much for not giving a 'hoot' about others…

"All right, this time I really am gone. Smell ya!" Green snorts derisively before turning on his heel again, disappearing back into the streets of Cerulean City.

Red doesn't watch him go this time. By now he knows that Green is going to leave no matter what, so there's no point in subjecting himself to that indignity.

Instead, he takes time to inspect the present Green's left him. It's a thin little tablet with a glass screen. On the back, there's a compartment for two triple-A batteries. On the front there are buttons.

Red reads the words flashing on the side of the screen.

FAME CHECKER

He taps the buttons around. A dial on the screen spins for a second as the device loads, and then names and faces pop forth on the screen, and Red scans the list. He even recognizes a couple of the faces. Brock, who he had fought back in Pewter City, and a bunch of other Gym Leaders that Red remembers seeing on TV. There's the prime minister. And his mom's favourite actor. In other places there are no images, only question marks. Red scans the text next to some of the question marks, pulling out a couple key phrases rather than reading the entire thing.

Former Champ-i-on…

Rocket Team Lead-er…

Scientist- Legend-ary Pokémon…

Further down the list, Red can see another familiar face. Green's sister Daisy smiles up at him from the tiny picture. It's only a small portrait. She's wearing a lime green headband against a velvet red background, and the ear of a pink Pokémon, a Clefairy, maybe, pokes into the side of the frame.

Red smiles. Seeing her face is a comforting reminder of home, but he would scarcely call her somebody famous… Until he remembers that Daisy has achieved top rankings in Pokémon contests, and plans to open a beauty salon and spa, one that will service humans and Pokémon alike. Daisy's dreams and ambitions are so quiet compared to that of her brother or grandfather, it leads Red to forget that by all practical means Daisy is more competent and level-headed than the other members of her family (and probably Red, too).

He scrolls further down the list, but not very far.

Right there is Professor Oak, former star Pokémon trainer, and current world-renowned authority on Pokémon scholarship. With the click of a button, Red can see the list of posts and information people have to offer on the famous professor.

Red snorts and shuts off the Fame Checker. Professor Oak, huh? That answers the question of why Green couldn't wait to pawn the machine off on him. And for now, he wants to see if he can beat the trainers on the Gold Nugget Bridge.

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It's dark by the time Red makes it through the five trainers on the bridge, and after that he has some trouble losing the Rocket grunt that's trying to convince him to join their organization, so there's nothing to do but camp out on a soft patch of soil on Route twenty-four and wait until morning.

(Red's gotten a lot better at pitching tents, if he does say so himself.)

Pikachu and Bulbasaur are curled up, sleeping next to him, and Red is bored, so he decides to take a closer look at the device Green's left him with.

A half an hour later, Red discovers that the Fame Checker is a remarkably comprehensive machine, when it comes to collecting dossiers on people. The machine syncs directly with the Fame Checker website, which keeps lists of famous trainers and movie stars and politicians up for public record. There are also Fame Checker forums, where people discussed the latest information and speculated about the personal lives of public figures.

But it was also possible to create private files on people, either by downloading and editing public files, or by creating them from scratch. The machine came built in with a keyboard and camera and audio recorder, so you could add text and pictures and audio clips to your files. And then you could upload your data to the public forums for review, if you were so inclined.

Fancy, comprehensive, and blindsided by its own single mindedness.

The Fame Checker was practically made for Green's ideology.

Red chuckles to himself and scrolls through the public files. There wasn't one for Green… yet.

Impulsively, Red turns on the audio recorder.

Pikachu's ears twitch in its sleep.

Green – from Pallet Town. He wants to be the Pokémon League Champion. He's a jerk who used to wear Ponyta-patterned underwear, Red says.

He stops the recording and replays it to himself.

"Green – from Pallet Town. He go to becomes Pokémon's League Champion. He's jerk. Who earlier is wear Ponyta-pattern underwears."

Red crinkles his brow. That sounds okay. He can upload that to the forums… right?

He replays it again for himself.

This time Red feels even more unsure of himself. He hears his own voice moving quickly through the sounds. (Is it really that high pitched?) He doesn't hear any mistakes, nothing wrong with it, but he can't really say what's right about it either.

He thinks about hundreds of people (thousands, even) listening to the audio clip, all of whom would be able to tell in an instant what exactly was right, and what was wrong…

Red quickly exits the share screen and saves the recording to a private file.

G-R-E-E-N. He types.

There. At least he is confident he knew how to spell Green's name correctly.

The Fame Checker beeps to confirm that the file was saved successfully before zooming out to another list.

That's when Red discovers something else.

There is only one other private file saved to Green's Fame Checker, and it's all about Bill the Pokémaniac, whose cottage Red's going to visit in the morning.

Red clicks on it curiously, and the dossier pops open.

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Full Name: Sonezaki "Bill" Masaki

A genius inventor and Pokémon collector credited with the invention of the Pokémon Storage System used widely throughout the Kanto region.

...

Below that is the portrait of a young man, maybe five or ten years older than Red, with wavy brown hair that's cut right under his ears. He's not particularly handsome. He's got a couple of pimples on the side of his face and his features are alternatingly too delicate and too rough. But Red has to admit there's something charming about his smile.

And below that is more information and a bunch of comment threads that Red has to force himself to read in full.

- - Bill has lots of Pokémon! He collects rare ones, too! – B*JArbok, Cerulean City

- - Billis a Pokémaniac, so he likes all kinds of Pokémon. Apparently the first one he caught was an Abra. – Celio, One Island

- - This guy's a fake! He stole the idea for "his" Storage System from Lanette in Hoenn, one hundred percent! It's beyond me how all of you guys can go around worshiping a thief. – anon, Location Unknown

- - - - Hey, ass clown! Lanette worked in cooperation with Bill to make improvements to the Storage System in Hoenn. Lanette admits her Storage System was an improvement on Bill's original concept, just as Bill admits the value of her input. I'd say get your facts straight before you make a fool of yourself online, but I suppose there's no helping a stupid mofo like you! – Gr-n, Pallet Town

That one sounds like something Green would say: crass, rude, arrogant. (And protective.) It's even more likely since the user location is listed as Pallet Town. Red scrolls down the rest of the comments, and sees the same username listed several more times, come to sing Bill's praises and defend against his naysayers.

So this is what Green cares about now.

But so far this is all information that's downloaded from Bill's public file. There are only a few notes that Green has added privately, but they somehow make more of an impact on Red than the entirety of Bill's public biography and photo collection and testimonies:

Apparently Bill's done extensive work researching the Eevee evolution line. I've heard the line diverges twice, making three mutually exclusive evolutions possible, but rumour has it there are even more possible evolutions. I've got to ask Bill about it. It's really amazing stuff. – G

Bill's really amazing. His work with programming has really made large scale research possible, since trainers can collect and store such huge teams of Pokémon. – G

There are three privately saved photos. One is of Bill with a rare Pokémon standing on his shoulder. It's small, and has shiny brown fur and white accents around its neck and the tip of its tail. The next is of Bill by himself with a computer and a bookshelf full of file folders in the background. He's laughing brightly at something offscreen. The third is a picture of Bill and Green together, standing side by side, with their arms thrown over each other's shoulders. The photo is at a weird angle, like Green was holding the camera backwards at both of them.

After that is a final note.

Some Pokémon trainer walked in while Bill was showing me his rare Pokémon. I challenged her to a Pokémon battle and won, but Bill kept calling her "beautiful". Figures. – G

Red's had enough so he flips off the power and tosses the Fame Checker down on his sleeping bag. His eyes ring in the sudden darkness.

He didn't realised how long he had spent looking at the Fame Checker. It must be very late, for it to be so dark. The only sound is the wind rustling the grass outside the tent, and the sound of Pikachu and Bulbasaur snoring.

His jaw also feels really stiff. When had he started grinding his teeth?

Red massages it with his palm as he turns over to try to go to sleep.

In the morning, Red is still tired and, when he arrives at the cottage, Bill has somehow switched bodies with a Clefairy.

Yeah.

Red almost refuses to help, if only because the situation is really creepy, but Bill tells him not to be so cold and calls him "chief", and if Bill's that worried, Red can't even imagine how the Clefairy must feel, so he goes along with it in the end.

After Bill's back in his own body, Red refuses to see his Pokémon Collection, but Bill offers him tea and biscuits anyway and says he's a real "pal" and thanks him with a ticket to the S.S. Anne before seeing him on his way. And, by the time they're through, Red does have to grudgingly admit that Bill is a nice enough guy.

But there's no help for it, really. Nice guy or not, Red dislikes him. Red had disliked Bill before he had even gotten to the cottage at Cerulean Cape. And the Fame Checker is entirely the reason why.

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Being a Pokémon trainer is a lot of walking. Red doesn't mind it, but his Pokémon have to battle as well as walk and, since they don't want to spend the whole day being carried in their Pokéballs, it translates into taking a lot of rest breaks.

Bulbasaur curls up in a soft patch of grass and closes one eye, and Pikachu rustles through Red's bag for snacks.

They're heading back into Cerulean City for the night, and Red pulls out the Fame Checker, because he has nothing else to do and has nothing else to be fascinated by.

There is a hot debate going on in the main Fame Checker forums.

Which Female Gym Leader is the Hottest? the top featured post reads.

Red's browses the entire thread. It's highly amusing for two reasons. The first is that all the female Kanto Gym Leaders are young and conventionally attractive, and the second is that everybody is so invested in their opinions. (Erika's an old hag, you idiots. She's already pushing twenty-six! her detractors say. Well, she sure doesn't look it! her defenders type back.)

The consensus, or as much of a consensus that can possibly be reached through passing volatile comments back and forth, is that the true battle is between Erika, the proper and traditional beauty, and Sabrina, the dark and dominant femme fatal. Misty isn't really in the running – her face is too boyish, her shoulders are too broad, and she doesn't have a curve to speak of.

It's such a shame, they say, so young and already piling on the muscle from all that swimming. She'll be a bodybuilder by the time she's twenty.

She's nothing like her bombshell sisters, who preceded her in taking over the gym, before they flitted off in all different directions.

Temperamental, serious, and plain.

Of course she has her fans, like anybody else (half of whom assert that she will not become a bodybuilder, and half of whom say that she will and she'll be more attractive for it), but they are far outvoiced by the posters advocating Sabrina and Erika's charms.

And Red's not sure how much of it is just sticking up for the underdog but, so far as he's concerned, Misty is the cutest by far.

In one of the pictures in the forums, she's standing in front of an outdoor pool in her swimsuit.

And sure, her figure is stiff and box-like, and her face doesn't have the delicate angles that characterise Erika or Sabrina, but she looks strong and healthy and, in that picture, she has a shy smile, turning quietly into a laugh.

And that's genuine.

Sabrina doesn't smile at all. And Erika's smile is demure and sly and calculated. Misty's the only one who smiles for the camera, without a trace of dishonesty.

And when Red actually meets Misty, the next day in Cerulean City, he finds out her best quality.

She's kind.

"You want to come over for dinner after this?" Misty asks.

Their Pokémon have already battled, and now Bulbasaur and Pikachu are wading in the kiddie pool along with Misty's Pokémon and one of the other trainers, a swimmer named Luis.

"I invite all the rookie trainers over after they battle me," Misty says, "even if they do bring in grass and electric types and unfairly slaughter my team."

She narrows her eyes at Pikachu and Bulbasaur, who have the presence of mind to look contrite.

Then Misty laughs, and it's clear she means the words only in jest. Bulbasaur returns to whipping his vines through the water happily.

"I know how hard it is to put in the time and money for a good meal," Misty continues, turning back to Red, "when you're always on the road."

Red looks at his feet and blushes. Even if Misty invites everyone over, clearly she should make an exception for him. She's a pretty older lady and a talented trainer and he's…

Well, also a talented trainer…

"C'mon. Whaddaya say?" Misty goads, with that cheerful smile.

"S-rry," Red mumbles quietly. "Can't spo- speak."

Misty stares for a moment, her smile never leaving her face.

Then it clicks.

"Well, that's okay," she finally laughs. "I can talk enough for five people, my sisters always told me, like they're ones to talk."

Misty takes him back to her place after that, and she really does talk enough for both of them – about growing up in Cerulean and taking over the gym after her sisters, about catching her first Pokémon, about the studies she enjoyed while she was still in school – it doesn't end.

And Red enjoys it. It's not with many people that Red can just listen and feel completely at ease.

Brock was like that too, back in Pewter City. Although Brock wasn't a man of many words.

And Green, too. Red had spent hours listening to Green chatter on about Pokémon until it was way past both their bedtimes and he was falling asleep to the sound of Green's voice.

Once upon a time…

But back in the present, Misty's the one talking. And Red's still manages to be completely comfortable, as she directs him to the residential district of Cerulean.

Misty's place is a small little house with too many things in it – extra coffee mugs and chairs and clothes and four handset radios – the small signs of many absentee residents. Her parents and sisters, Misty explains, are all gone now, in one way or another.

The food is already prepared and waiting in the fridge, so all they have to do is heat it in the microwave. It's spaghetti coated in a bottled tomato sauce, with steamed vegetables on the side, and Misty is obviously not the world's best cook – not compared to Red's mom, who runs one of Pallet Town's few restaurants and only lunchbox service, and not compared to Daisy and Green, who did all the cooking in the Oak household. But it's still the best meal Red has had in a long time, and Misty isn't angry when he dishes out a serving each for Pikachu and Bulbasaur – so he appreciates it. Far more than he can put into words.

Pikachu eats all of it without complaint, but Bulbasaur the one who really enjoys himself, clearly delighted by the long noodles. He wraps his mouth around an entire clump of spaghetti and practically radiates joy when the noodles hang down from his mouth in a long, red beard.

"Bulba-r, he love them," Red tells Misty, as he serves the Pokémon an extra helping off his plate.

Misty beams. "Really, but your Pikachu ate all of it too."

"Like more," Red says, pointing to Bulbasaur, who is taking his time playing with the food.

"How can you tell?"

Red explains in detail about the way that Bulbasaur's leaves flare out to the sides and how he taps his feet and – there's something else, something Red can't quite explain – but all of it means that Bulbasaur is really, really content at this moment.

"Wow," Misty says, sparkles collecting in her eyes, "I don't really understand it all, but anybody can see that you really have a way with Pokémon. It's the kind of bond so many trainers want desperately to have, but you seem to understand how your Pokémon are feeling, their strengths and weaknesses, even their fears, without even trying."

Misty's words are light, but there is a clear undercurrent of envy belying her words.

Red frowns. He wants to make it okay for her somehow. "Sorr-"

"Don't apologise!" Misty cuts him off. She reaches forward and touches his hand. "I think its really amazing, something that all trainers have to aspire to. You're a real inspiration to all of us in the League."

Misty leans back, taking her hand with her, and Red is left with a burning red face and the hairs on the back of his neck on end.

Misty sighs. "I mean, I get so many trainers coming through the gym, and most of them are well intentioned, but they really could stand to learn something from how you relate with your Pokémon."

Misty stands up and begins gathering the dishes. She pats Pikachu on the head as she takes the dish they set out for him, then pauses. Bulbasaur isn't done with his meal yet, but she scratches him lovingly behind the ear anyhow.

"But, every once in a while, I get someone who's just… I mean, you wouldn't believe the guy that came into the gym the other day," Misty continues. She frowns as she turns on the water at the sink.

Red follows her. He would have done it anyhow, to help dry the dishes. It's not only because he wants to hear about this other trainer.

"You wouldn't believe this guy," Misty repeats. "He sends out a Charmander first and, I'm thinking, this is just a rookie mistake, right?"

Red nods in agreement. Nobody in their right mind would send out a fire type to face Misty's Pokémon.

"But the trainer is conscientious about avoiding fire attacks. My Staryu takes him out in only a couple of hits, but he's focusing on high speed attacks and manages to tire out my Pokémon in the process."

Misty hands him a couple of plates and some chopsticks, and Red dries them off, frowning worriedly.

"Then he pulls out his second Pokémon, and I realise he planned it this way on purpose!" Misty says disbelievingly. "He knew his Charmander wouldn't stand a chance, so he sent it out against my weaker Pokémon to be knocked out, just in case his other Pokémon needed the advantage of an extra hit or two!"

Misty almost breaks the dish she's holding, she's scrubbing it so hard, and Red reaches into the soapy water to take it from her.

Misty startles.

"I'm sorry," she said, handing the dish over. "Normally it would be a solid strategy," she explains, "it's just that a Charmander… it's got a pretty severe weak point. If the flame on its tail goes out, that's it. One well placed water attack can kill a Charmander. I mean, it's against League rules to strike with intent to kill. But mistakes happen! And you're kidding if you think everybody's going to just follow the League rules like that. Even among us Gym Leaders!"

Misty blushed.

"I mean, I- I would never do something like that-" Misty stuttered.

Red shakes his head and gives her a look that he hopes will let her know that he knows that. That he trusts her.

Misty calms visibly and returns to washing the dishes.

"I just really hate trainers like that," Misty says. "His Pidgey sure picked up the slack afterwards – but that's just it! He's not a bad strategist. His Pidgey might have been enough from the start! Any real trainer wouldn't have risked their Charmander unnecessarily like that. An especially not with a Pokémon that good in reserve."

Misty turns off the water and hands the last of the dishes, a couple of serving spoons, to Red..

"I just hate people like that," Misty repeats. "According to League regulations I had to give him the Cascade Badge, but if it was up to me… I wish I could wipe that smug grin right off his face. He doesn't deserve that Badge one bit!"

With a Charmander, a Pidgey, and a smug grin… That erases any doubt in Red's mind that the trainer is Green.

That has to be Green.

Red wipes off the silverware and replaces it in the drawer and, suddenly, an idea comes to him.

And Red can't tell if it's a wonderful idea or a terrible one, but it is so large, so all encompassing, that he can't help but reach for it.

Red reaches into his pocket and pulls out the device, its letters flashing animatedly on the screen as he touches a button and the whole thing springs to life.

F-A-M-E-C-H-E-C-K-E-R

Misty cocks an eyebrow at him.

"'m s-rry," he says, clicking a button to turn on the audio recording equipment. "Would repeat?" he asks, his expression pleading and his arm hovering, holding the recorder up to Misty's face.


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AN: Also! On character ages: I can't actually deal with the fact that people in this universe allow prepubescent children to roam the countryside so, for the sake of this fic, the kids don't start their Pokémon journeys until they're 14~16. The logic behind this is that Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh are sorta Japan and, in Japan, education is compulsory until the end of middle school (K-9). High school exists, but in the Pokémon world most people opt to not attend for the sake of fighting each other with magic animals.

Other than that, thanks for staying on this far! Read & Relax, as they say.