The Queen's Gambit ~ A Salazzle Story

Disclaimer: The following events are true, but names and other details have been changed to protect the identity of those involved. Any resemblance to real pokemon trainers is coincidental.

I stumbled into the living room, struggling with the toxic haze swirling in my brain. The persian had knocked over my lamp in pursuit of the sandshrews, the kadabra was levitating every spoon in my silverware drawer, and a panicky onix was trying to force its way inside through the back door. A poliwag and a totodile were taking a bath in my kitchen sink, a pikachu was munching on electrical cables, and two hyperactive mankeys were ripping out the stuffing in my couch. I was half-naked, poisoned, burned, covered in scratches, intoxicated by pheromones, and chasing a cackling dominatrix lizard who had just set fire to my carpet.

I bet you're wondering how I got here. Well, it's a long story.

It all started ... yesterday.

And what a day that was.

It's what I'd like to call ... a bad salazzle day.

Yesterday I got a phone call. Saffron City's Pokemon Shelter had a special case for me: a homewrecker of a salazzle that no trainer wanted. I thought it'd be no big deal. Boy, was I wrong. That little lizard changed everything.

But before I get ahead of myself, I'll tell you a little about me, first.

The name's Riley. I'm a Pokemon Rehabilitator. Ever been to a Pokemon shelter? People give up pokemon for adoption all the time. Sadly, some unwanted pokemon are too broken to re-adopt, and too unprepared to release into the wild. Maybe they're poorly trained, or they've been abused, or they're just downright aggressive. That's where I come in: I take in "trouble" pokemon and rehabilitate them so they can find their new forever home. It's a government-funded career, just like working at a Poke Center. Which means decent pay, full benefits, and tax refunds on pokemon supplies. I love my job, and as a bonus, chicks totally dig it.

I used to be a trainer. I was pretty good, too: I earned my eight regional badges, even braved Victory Road. But I couldn't have just any pokemon on my team. Even as a kid, I was determined to find the rarest, most difficult-to-train pokemon. I wanted to beat the odds: to earn their trust, their friendship, and eventually their loyalty. Forging that special bond with a pokemon made me feel ... man, I just felt, alive, ya know? It's an indescribable feeling of satisfaction. The problem was that I couldn't keep a steady win rate because I was always switching my team. Once I had hit my peak with a pokemon's bond, I was already looking for the next challenge, the next new team member. Eventually I realized that I enjoyed taming pokemon more than battling.

So I hung up my trainer's gear, donated most of my team to loving trainers, and applied for an internship at the world-famous Pallet Town Pokemon Lab, which specialized in pokemon behavior. And I got in, beating over a hundred other candidates. I studied hard for years, and did incredible work under Professor Oak's tutelage. I even completed my thesis on the psychological co-dependency between pokemon and humans. But I missed the grind, being out in the feild. I wanted to train pokemon again. That's when Oak told me about the crisis in Pokemon Shelters: shelters across Kanto were full of "untrainable" pokemon that nobody would touch. My heart was stirred. The Prof knew it before even I did: that was my true calling.

Fast forward five years. I'm at the prime of my life, financially independent, and living on the outskirts of Kanto's wealthiest district: Saffron City – "The Shining City of Gold". Practically every shelter in Kanto knows me on a first-name basis. I've given special lectures on pokemon handling to hundreds of young would-be Pokemon Masters. Trainer's Digest did a piece on me last year (check out TD vol. 836, pages 12-14!). Some people even call me the Pokemon Whisperer ... okay, maybe just me.

My point is I've got it good in life. I currently have thirty three pokemon in my care, not including Rufio, my lucario. Every superhero needs a sidekick, and I'd be lost without my little blue buddy. Rufio is my secretary, translator, confidant, and pokemon mood ring all rolled up in one adorably stoic pupper. His ability to read the emotions of other pokemon is indispensable for my work, and his telepathy allows me to completely bypass the language barrier.

I take in a lot of special cases. Right now I'm counselling a growlithe with separation anxiety, an ivysaur scared of her own pokeball, a blind pidgeot, and a houndoom with an eating disorder. I've also got an onix terrified of smaller pokemon, a rhydon with an inferiority complex, a slowpoke rescued from tail-harvesting poachers, and a sociopathic kadabra who induces psychosis in people when she doesn't get her way. Most have a sad story of abuse ... while others are just plain maladjusted. Some of these pokemon have killed other 'mons, or even humans. In fact, I'm ... sorta legally required to tell you which ones (lookin' at you, psycho spoon bitch!)

Most of these pokemon will recover in time. Others ... well, it's possible they'll never find their forever home. But I will never give up on them, as long as they're with me. I've got the skills, the experience, and the stubbornness to prove it! Now, I've rehabilitated everything from abandoned pikachu to ultra-rare latios. But imagine my surprise when I got a call from Saffron City's Pokemon Shelter about a pokemon all the way from the Alola region.

"A salazzle? In Saffron? Are you serious?" I frowned. This salazzle couldn't be released. It's a felony to release non-native pokemon species into the wild: invasive species destabilize the ecosystem. Rehabilitation was the only option for this lizard.

"It was brought back from Akala Island by a tourist. She caught it as a gift for her fiancé. Take a guess what happened."

"Oh hell ... the pheromones."

"Yup. Two months later, the bride-to-be canceled their wedding and dumped the lizard here. So when can you pick her up? She's a real piece of work ... the staff's afraid to go near her."

I blinked. "What? Why?"

"She's already escaped twice. Used her pheromones to get staff members to open up all the doors. Derrick's still messed up in the head. We had to lock him in the broom closet."

"Are you serious? You literally have someone locked in the broom closet right now."

"Hun, you have no idea ..."

"Damn … okay, I'll be there first thing tomorrow."

"The sooner the better. And Riley?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful with this one. I mean it."

"I will," I said, and hung up.

A salazzle ... those bipedal lizards from the Alola region. Fire and poison typed. Capable of producing powerful, intoxicating pheromones. I didn't know much else, except what I had heard in passing. You know what they say about salazzle owners: they're surrounded by this pervasive stigma. "What's he doing with that salazzle?" people whisper. "Is he one of those trainers?" It's like when you spot a young trainer with a female gardevoir or lopunny and they're acting just a little too affectionate in public. Nobody ever talks about it. But everybody knows what's going on.

Salazzle trainers are just one of those things that people will always gossip about. I remember last year when that older trainer beat the Alolan Champion using a salazzle and became an overnight celebrity. It took less than a week before one of those sleazy tabloid magazines ran a story called "The new Alolan Champion and their salazzle ... who's training who?"

But I needed more than gossip and hearsay: I had research to do. I spent the night reading up on everything about salazzles: their abilities, natural habitat, dietary needs, behavior and temperament, health issues, their danger index ... everything.

I was shocked by what I found.

Did you know that salazzle are gray-listed in most regions? Yeah, each region's Pokemon League has a standardized list of pokemon that novice trainers can't own. Now, it should be common sense to not give a preschooler a slug made of fire or a living ball of pressurised poison gas, but the list exists for a reason: people are dumb. Most gray-listed pokemon are inherently dangerous, or too headstrong for novice trainers. Then there's salazzle.

Salazzle is gray-listed because it is one of the few pokemon that can control their masters.

Sure, there's other pokemon that can manipulate human minds, like gardevoir or lucario. But those tend to be fiercely loyal and obedient. Salazzle, in sharp contrast, revel in trickery and mischief. They're clever, shrewd, and accustomed to getting their own way. If you don't give them what they want, they'll ... convince you.

To call salazzle manipulative is an understatement, much like saying slowpoke are dimwitted or pikachu are over-bred. Wild salazzle spend their entire lives getting other pokemon to do their bidding. The very notion of manual labor is so foreign to them that they do not know how to hunt or forage or find shelter, and would likely die on their own. Manipulation is all they know. In fact, PokepediaOnline says they're one of the few non-dark-type pokemon that must be taught how to ask for things, because their first instinct is to take it through coercion.

It's those pheromones ... salazzle and its pre-evolution secrete an oily substance from their tails that can be burnt to produce toxic gas. The oil from females are heavily-laced with powerful pheromones that can affect all manner of pokemon, and humans, too. Its attractive qualities are so well-known that salazzle oil is an additive of perfumes and aphrodisiacs. Alolan scientists are frantically researching possible medical and therapeutic uses. Kalosian chefs will sometimes use salazzle pheromones as a cooking ingredient. PokeWorld News ran a story last year about the International Police cracking down on a Team Rocket pheromone smuggling ring in Fuschia City. I never knew about any of this until now!

Alolan folk say that it's musky and spicy and sweet, like burnt garlic and caramelized onions. Supposedly, it fills the victim with an overpowering, trance-like state. Their oxytocin levels shoot up, and so does their libido. The whole world and all its troubles become inconsequential; victims become so consumed by love and adoration for the salazzle that they'll do practically anything for them. Side effects induce nausea, vertigo, disorientation, and ataxia ... whatever that means. I'm just repeating what PokeMedOnline says.

There had to be something I could do about the pheromones. I tried looking up if there was a cure. But the internet had nothing but rumors and questionable home remedies, like breathing through a urine-soaked rag … and there's no way I was trying that. I needed special tools for this job: I reached for my phone, and looked up the number on the internet. I knew it was late, and was relieved that someone picked up.

I heard the voice of a cute girl. "This is Fuschia City Gym. Janine, speaking. May I help you?"

"Hey there. The name's Riley, I'm a Pokemon Rehabilitator over in Saffron City. Do you sell specialized gear for training poison types?"

"Sure do! We got antidotes, herbal poultices, air purifiers, epipens, elbow-length rubber gloves, chemsuits, dozers, flubgrazers, smoke bombs, invisible walls-wait, no: sorry, those are for senior gym members only."

"I'm looking for a specific item ..." I scroll down the webpage I was browsing. "Uh, an ABEK-P3 G109?"

"Oh, we got a whole storeroom full of those! We overstock in case of emergencies. My wheezing had an accident the other day ... I had to start passing those out like halloween candy. Daddy was, like, sooooo angry. I couldn't believe it. We run a gym full of poison types ... um hellooo? These things happen all the time."

"That's ... fascinating," I manage. "Can I arrange for pickup tomorrow morning?"

"Oh, sure! It'll cost ya 4800 pokebucks."

Oof, marked up 20% from the price I found online. Oh well: I couldn't wait. "Great, I'll have a pidgeotto stop by with the cash. She'll respond to 'Rey'."

I said goodbye and set the phone down, convinced I had this lizard gig down.

I read salazzle articles until I passed out. My sleep was restless, with fleeting dreams. I woke up to the blaring of my alarm clock and groggily stumbled into the shower. Today was a big day - a salazzle day. I better hurry: it sounded like the Pokemon Shelter couldn't wait to get rid of her.

My lucario poked his nose into the bathroom. "Master, you are awake."

His deep, solemn voice was in my head, unspoken and silent ... yet still having sound. Telepathy is never not weird. "Morning, Rufio. You hungry, lil buddy?"

"I have already fed myself. Must you accept the Demon Lizard into your care?"

I laughed as I frantically scrubbed my armpits. "You can't call her that, Ruf. I'm sure she's ..." I struggle for a fitting complement. "Very friendly."

"She is a Demon Lizard who will bring ruin unto our home."

I stuck my soapy head out of the shower curtain. "Hey, what's your problem? You haven't even met her yet."

My lucario stood cautiously at the threshold of the bathroom, one paw still on the doorknob. "I spoke to the Angry Banana last night." He meant Lilith, the kadabra. They don't get along. "She said she had a Future Sight of a demon who will deliver a curse upon this house."

I finished my shower and jumped out. Crap, I left my towel on the bedroom. I dashed by my lucario and grabbed it off the floor. "Are we forgetting that the Angry Banana is a manipulative sociopath who enjoys playing mind-games?"

Rufio followed me into the bedroom as I towelled off. "No, but I sensed her aura when she spoke. I felt ... unease."

I froze: his words sent heebie-jeebies up my spine. But I forced a smile. "Well, I'll have to be extra careful, then." I grabbed the nearest clothes I saw and threw them on. "Listen, I gotta run – I promised the shelter I'd be there first thing in the morning. So do me a favor: open the backyard, let the crew out of their pokeballs, and feed them. Remember, only a half-scoop of pokechow for the houndoom. And keep the persian away from the sandshrew brothers! I caught them fighting again. Oh, and give Rey this:" I shoved an envelope in Rufio's paws. "The featherhead's got an errand to run in Fuschia City. She'll know what to do."

Rufio bowed his head. "It will be done, Master."

I gave my lucario a rough pat on the head as I rushed into the kitchen. "What would I do without you, Ruf?"

Rufio placed my wallet on the counter. I had forgotten it, like I usually do. "You would cry into your pillow like a pathetic cubone."

I laughed, grabbing the wallet and a sitrus berry from the fridge. "Gonna pretend that was a joke. Later, buddy!" With the berry stuffed in my mouth, I dashed out the house. In a flash I'm on my bike.

I pedaled downtown as berry juice dribbled down my chin, tracing the familiar route to the shelter as SilphCo's tower loomed in the distance. I couldn't get my lucario's words out of my head. It's probably nothing, I told myself. The kadabra's just trying to rile me up again. I'm a professional when it comes to handling difficult pokemon – the best I know. I've tamed pokemon that could level buildings in one blow, or short-circuit brains with a mere thought. How bad can one salazzle be?

Well ... pretty bad, now that I thought about it.

I read story last night about an Alolan construction worker who stopped showing up to work one day. Two weeks later, he was caught stealing food from the local 'mart, but escaped by overpowering the police officer. They found him deep in the Akala Island wilderness, enslaved by the fattest wild salazzle ever seen. Poor guy was living like a savage among two dozen enslaved pokemon. He had even built a shrine for her out of rocks and driftwood. They had stolen so much food it was rotting, but he and all the other pokemon were starving because she wouldn't let them eat. They did a case study about him in Pokemon Behavior. I read every word: it was fascinating. How could pheromones be that strong?

Most folk are terrified of the notion of being enslaved by a pokemon ... yet there's a few that find it appealing, if the internet is to believed. Salazzle are – ahem – rather popular on certain websites ... that's, uh, just what I've heard. I've never looked, honest! I've also heard the rumor that salazzles are always horny. Supposedly it's because in the wild, they use sex to control their harem of enslaved males. Take a pokemon used to keeping pace with a dozen horny males, and put her in a room with one trainer, and things can get weird.

You can ask any salazzle owner about their powers of seduction, and their reaction is nearly universal. Some might go uncomfortably quiet, or force a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, she can be pretty feisty sometimes ..." they'll say. Or they'll get defensive and say "I keep her pokeball close in case she needs a 'time out'." Now, maybe they're good enough trainers to not let the lizard win. Or maybe they've already fallen under her spell. But whatever their case, they all know.

The internet is overflowing with forum posts by concerned salazzle trainers unsure of how to deal with their pokemon's "problem". I found stories of salazzles self-pleasuring in public, hiding their pokeball in lewd places, or relentlessly harassing their trainers and other pokemon. To combat this, a few trainers have shamefully admitted to buying certain "toys" to keep their salazzles busy. I couldn't believe it. I mean ... how bad does it get before you seriously consider buying a vibrator for a pokemon? Imagine taking a girl home and she spots it, and then you have to calmly explain that you don't actually like putting things up your butt ... you bought it because your pokemon's an insatiable horndog who won't stop stealing your electric toothbrush.

I arrived at the Pokemon Shelter, signed for her, and Millie – my favorite shelter nurse – brought out a pristine ebony-and-gold embossed Luxury Ball. Ooh, shiny! "She got a name?"

"No. But the staff have been calling her Tryst."

I snorted out a laugh. That poor bride-to-be ... "She's clean, right? No parasites, pokerus, Alolan fever?"

"She's clean, fed, and groomed. Now remember: don't take her out until you're in a controlled environment," the Millie warned.

"I know the drill," I muttered as I filled out the forms. "Done this a hundred times."

"And don't get cocky."

I chuckled. "C'mon, Millie, it's me. You know I'm the best."

"You haven't seen what she did to Derrick."

My eyes glanced up at the older woman. She was stone-faced. "It's just pheromones ... how bad can it be?"

"He was screaming that we took him from the love of his life."

I laughed. "Well, I'm not that dumb, Millie. Besides, my heart already heart belongs to you."

"Ha. I've heard that line from men far richer – and more suave – than you, and I ain't falling for it now."

"I'm serious! You've won me over with those those ravishing silver locks of hair, and a winning smile from that new set of dentures, and a tender gaze that says 'I have framed photos of eighteen different cat pokemon at home'."

"I only got five." She shoved the ball in my hands. "Now take her and get out."

"You're a peach, Mil. Thanks a bunch."

Millie let herself show a smile. "Yeah, yeah ..."

As I walked out of the shelter, I could feel Tryst's ball jiggling in my hands. The lizard knew something was going on and wanted out. Fiesty little bugger ...

I biked home with her ball still wiggling on my belt clip. I talked to Rufio once, about what it's like being inside a pokeball. He described it like being stuck in the moment between a deep sleep and a restful wake. You're peaceful, dimly conscious, and have little sense of your body. You can hear your trainer's voice as a distant mumble, or feel the gentle jostle of their belt clip as they walk. You could be in there for a minute, hour, or a day ... and you'd never really know how long it was until you came back out.

I had always liked the way he described it ... pokeballs sounded so comfortable and cozy. But pokeballs don't work on humans, nor any animals or plants. I've heard it explained like this: pokemon are creatures of energy. That energy lets them perform amazing feats like breathing fire or spouting water ... and long ago we learned how to capture this energy into a small, transportable matrix called a pokeball. There's a dozen different theories on the whys and hows, but that stuff is better left to the scientists. All I know is that it works.

When I got home, two bird pokemon were waiting for me in the training room. Creo always knew when it was time for flying lessons. This beautiful, gentle pidegeot was blinded by his trainer for losing too many battles. When I first got Creo, his confidence was so shattered he spent every day in one spot, too afraid to move ... let alone fly. Rey has become his seeing-eye bird, and the two are very close. Creo will probably never find a forever home ... but he'll always be welcome here.

Rey stood proudly next to the package from Fuchsia City Gym. "Nice job, Rey," I patted the pidgeotto on the head and gave her a treat. "But I got bad news for you two. We gotta cancel flying lessons. I got a new pokemon today, and she's gotta have her first session."

Creo cocked his head. His long feathered headdress bobbed. "Crrruku?"

I cradled his head in my hands and ruffled his cheek feathers. "We'll pick back up tomorrow, okay, big guy?"

Creo's poofy feathers deflated like a balloon. Awww, the poor bird was heartbroken! I gave him a big hug, and the bird pokemon flapped his wings and crooned in my embrace. "Alright, featherhead, I'll tell you what: we'll go out to Route 7 after dinner and do some flying, okay? Now let's get you two outta here: you'll scare the newcomer."

Rufio opened the safety gate with a loud clang, and Creo navigated the exit by sound. The real reason I couldn't have birds here was that there's no sense in putting a salazzle near potential slaves. Once it was just me and the lucario, I pressed the button on her Luxury Ball. The spring latch opened, a brief flash of light lit the room, and the salazzle materialized.

Wow, these lizard were pretty! Standing at three feet tall, Tryst's scales were colored like the night sky, but her chest and belly were blazingly bright with indigo and hot pink stripes, patterned like a flame. Her palms and soles were also bright pink, and they drew attention with her every move. Her large, violet eyes were shockingly feminine, with large lashes: an odd trait for a lizard. She stood with snout held high, encapsulating the proud, confident poise of a queen. She didn't look surprised to see a new human before her.

"Hey there ... my name's Riley, and this is Rufio. I'm your new trainer!" Tryst ignored me. She sniffed the room, taking in the smells of all the other pokemon. I let her do her thing for a while: it's important that new pokemon feel comfortable.

Most trainers' number one mistake is they assume pokemon think like people do. Pokemon are complex creatures with unfamiliar and sometimes bizarre behaviors ... like how arcanines will mount each other to show dominance: a necessary social behavior that many embarrassed trainers might ignorantly discourage. Some pokemon are harder than others to read, but master-class trainers such as myself can learn a lot from the smallest cues. Right now, this salazzle was moving fluidly as she explored my training room, which meant she was relaxed and comfortable. If she were anxious or afraid, she'd stand still as a statue.

When the lizard seemed ready, I continued on with my introduction speech. It's just standard stuff, really ... I let her know what I do, why she's here, and how we're going to train. I've always believed that trainers should treat pokemon like partners, not pets. Many of them are smart enough to know when they're being talked down to, even if they don't understand every word.

Rufio relayed the house rules to the salazzle in terms she could understand. Her head twisted in the lucario's direction. The salazzle hissed and growled out a terse question of some sort.

Rufio turned to me. "The Demon Lizard demands to be released."

I pursed my lips. "Tell her that will happen eventually if she cooperates."

Tryst avoided eye contact as I talked. This was a power move: she deliberately wasn't giving me her attention, and that irked me. When she came to the safety gate, she rattled it, then tried to squeeze through the gaps.

I sighed. "Rufio?"

My lucario bowed his head. "At once, Master."

As Rufio approached, Tryst swiped at him with her claws. He held his paws out to placate her. The two pokemon conversed. I didn't know what Rufio was telling her, but I trusted him: he's good at figuring out how to calm other pokemon down. The four aura-sensing stalks on the back of his head stiffened and twitched.

But Tryst wasn't backing down. She snapped her jaws at him and went back to trying to open the gate. Rufio laid a gentle paw on her shoulder. She lashed out again. Rufio staggered back, clutching his snout. My grip of her pokeball tightened, but I did nothing. If I approached her now, it would just make her feel threatened and outnumbered. Rufio was trying his best, but the salazzle was beyond reasoning. She jumped back into the corner and got down on all fours. Her tail raised high, she swayed it back and forth, producing a purple mist.

I swore. "Ruf, stop her."

My lucario looked to me. "Master, it is unlike you to resort to violence so quickly."

"You don't know what she can do," I growled. "Stop her!"

Rufio dashed forward, paws up in a fighting stance. But Tryst was ready. She had inhaled a great deal of the purple mist, and she blew it right in my lucario's face. Rufio stopped dead in his tracks. He grabbed his forehead, looking confused.

"Rufio?"

The salazzle growled playfully. I saw a glint in her eyes as she drew him in and ... locked jaws for a deep, sensuous kiss. Ugh, gross! Where did she even learn how to kiss like that!? On second thought, I don't want to know ...

"Hey!" I raised the salazzle's ball in warning. "Stop that, or you're going back in your ball!"

Rufio struggled weakly in her embrace. He snorted out a puff of purple gas through his nose. Tyst pulled away from the kiss slowly. I nearly gagged at the sight of her withdrawing her tongue from his mouth. She spread her long fingers through his chest fur. My pokemon looked to be in a trance. "Last warning, Tryst ... get away from him!"

Looking at me, the salazzle whispered something in my lucario's ear. He nodded.

"Arceus ... enough!" I activated Tryst's pokeball and whisked the lizard back inside.

"That went well," I muttered. "Ruf? You okay, lil buddy?"

My lucario shuddered. He clutched his head and staggered forward to lean against the wall. "Master ..." He turned to me, his eyes cold and expressionless. "Give me her pokeball."

A chill ran down my spine. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as I processed what the lizard had just done. Tryst had played a classic gambit: corrupt Rufio now, get punished for it ... then bet on her new slave to get her out of trouble. I was almost impressed.

Rufio held his paws out. "Master ... her pokeball."

"Don't fall for it, Rufio."

My lucario growled. "The Mistress told me that if you put her in her ball, I must let her back out."

"What did you just call her!?"

"The Mistress ... my Mistress."

"Ruf, she's in your head. Don't let her control you."

"I must let her out. I have to let her out!"

Uh oh.

Rufio grabbed hold of my shirt. I held her ball high, out of his reach. "Woah, woah, snap out of it, Ruf!" I tried to hold him back, but the little blue fuzzball's always had surprising strength. He climbed up me with ease.

I managed to wedge an elbow between him and pushed him off. He tumbled to the ground, glaring at me with an anger I've never seen before. "She told me to let her out. I need to let her out!"

The fighting pokemon sprung to his feet and delivered a roundhouse kick to my gut. I felt the air forced out my lungs and doubled over. He pounced on me, snarling, paws grabbing at the ball. Gasping for breath like a magikarp, it was all I could do to clutch the pokeball close to my chest. We tumbled to the floor. Rufio started prying my fingers away from the salazzle's ball. Arceus, he was pulling hard enough to break them! I curled my legs up and got one foot against his shoulders. And I pushed with all my might.

"Get ... offa ... me!"

I felt Rufio's grip slip, and he went flying. So did the ball. My lucario pounced for it, but the ball bounced out of his paws. I scooped it up and bolted for the gate. I had to put Rufio into his pokeball! But where was it? I hadn't used that thing in months!

I was halfway outside when my lucario pounced on my back. Snarling, he sunk his teeth into my neck. I yelped in pain, we tumbled to the ground. His chest spike dug into my back. He grabbed my hand that had the ball and bit that, too. I screamed, but refused to let go. Reaching behind his neck with my other hand, I grabbed one of his aura-sensing stalks.

"Sorry, buddy." I squeezed with all my might.

Rufio screeched, his whole body went rigid. There's so many nerves in those things that I might as well kicked him in the balls. His howls reached the outside, and I heard the cries of alarmed pokemon. Lily the Ivysaur was the first to come running, followed quickly by a dozen other pokemon.

I struggle to get the thrashing lucario off of me. "Get him offa me! He's gone crazy!"

The ivysaur's vines shot out, grabbing Rufio by the arms. He was tackled by the sandshrew brothers, shocked by the pikachu, and finally sat on by the rhydon. I scrambled to my feet and limped to the bedroom. As I tore through drawers and shelves, I could still hear him broadcasting his thoughts. "I have to let her out! I need to let her out!"

I finally found his ball and returned to the hallway. I chucked his ball at him, he was pulled inside, and the screaming in my mind stopped. I stood there, panting, and checked my bites. Arceus, Rufio actually drew blood! I had a crowd of twenty or so pokemon staring at me with a mixture of confusion and fright. "Just a new pokemon in the house, that's all ..." I gestured in exasperation. "Nothin' to see ... go on, back outside, all of you!"

I returned to the training room, slammed the safety gate shut, and plopped myself down on a stool. I was in shock of what just happened.

That damn lizard ... I had no idea these pheromones were so powerful!

Wait, no.

That's not true.

I spent all night reading about them. I had the knowledge, I knew what they could do. It's just ... I didn't respect that knowledge. I couldn't help it: I found those stories so hard to believe. I kept thinking that maybe they're exaggerating. Or the trainers were just stupid and blamed the pheromones on poor training. But it's another thing to see it with my own eyes. Arceus, Rufio turned on me so quickly! My own pokemon, the lucario who would follow me to the ends of the earth ... he attacked me.

Tryst's ball jiggled in my hands. The lizard was antsy. She wanted out.

I paced in the training room, thinking hard. I couldn't proceed without a plan. For years, Rufio has always been at my side during therapy: calming pokemon down, talking to them, making them feel accepted and secure. But if I couldn't trust Ruf, I couldn't trust anyone. I'd have to work solo. Go back to the basics of obedience commands and treat-based rewards. It'll be like the old days of taming wild rattatas as a kid.

It's gonna be weird going back to that. It'll feel archaic and backwards. But Tryst will have to use the pheromones on me. And if she does ...

I ripped open the package from Fuschia City Gym and took out my newest toy. The G109 toxic gas mask is a classic Silph Co. design, engineered to resist all poisons native to the Kanto-Johto area. It's got a purple emblem of a koffing's markings on the sides ... pretty slick looking! I read the instructions, slipped it on, and tightened the straps.

... ugh, it's hard to breathe in this thing. I'll let it hang around my neck for now.

I pressed the button on Tryst's pokeball. She appeared before me, head held high in a smug expression. Her self-satisfied look told me that she heard the whole fight with Rufio, and she was proud of it. Oh, what a bitch! That made my blood boil.

"Okay, firstly: you're a dick. Secondly, I'm not letting you near any other pokemon until you behave. Thirdly, you'll apologize to Rufio later. Understand?"

I didn't expect her to. The lizard hadn't spent long under the care of humans, and probably knew only a handful of words. But I didn't care; she'd apologize one way or another. She made me hurt my lucario. That made it personal.

However ... I knew I couldn't lose my cool. I'm a professional, after all. "Now, I don't expect you to like it, but you're stuck with me now, for better or worse. And once you get the hang of it, you'll find me very easy-going. Let's start with a simple trust exercise, okay?"

I have a mantra when it comes to pokemon training: Trust leads to Respect; Respect leads to Obedience. It's practically my trademarked saying: I even got it printed out on a banner hanging above the training room. You must earn one to begin working on the other ... too often, bad trainers will try to force obedience without first earing their pokemon's trust and respect, and that's where problems begin. Establishing trust was the foundation of pokemon training. You'll hear that fact regurgitated at any trainer's school, read it in any pokemon training manual. But it's true. And the best way to establish trust is positive reinforcement.

I palmed a piece of a pokepuff and held it up to get her attention. "See this? Mmm, yummy treat!" I brought it to her nose and let her sniff it. The salazzle snapped her jaws at it, nearly taking off a finger! I pulled away. "Ah-ah! You'll get this if you behave, okay?"

Tryst lunged forward, forcing me to keep the puff behind my back. "Woah, woah, calm down." I played keepaway for a while. The claws on her long fingers scratched my forearms, but I didn't rebuke her. I knew it was only a matter of time: most pokemon will give up, eventually. Then I ask them to sit, and would reward them with a bite. It's super basic stuff, really ... but it is crucial to establish that obeying a trainer leads to rewards.

Except ... Tryst wasn't calming down. She fought for the treat in my hands, and no amount of pushing her away or saying no got her to back off. Growling, she pounced on my back, scrambling all over me for the treat in my hands. Her claws tore the front of my shirt open. I felt raking pain across my chest. I fought not to rebuke her.

"Hey! Get down!" I shoved the lizard off of me. Tryst came to a rolling stop and was slow to get up. She glared at me. Her tail began to wag. Oh, for Arceus' sake ... this was going horribly.

"Oh, no you don't!" I lunge for her, grabbing her tail by the tip. "No. You don't get food if you use pheromones."

Snarling, Tryst chomped my forearm and scurried away when I yelped in pain. She began to sway her hips, building up more of her noxious gas. I could already smell it: overpoweringly skunky and spicy, but with a twinge of sweetness. Like ... burnt garlic and caramelized onions. I quickly put my gas mask on.

No sooner than I tightened the straps did Tryst inhale a cloud of the gas and blow it in my face. The purple mist billowed against the plexiglass visor. She waited for a reaction.

"Nice try, but I'm immune," I said. It came out more like "Ncss trr, dut m mme." ... close enough.

Tryst cocked her head. She tried again. No effect!

I'm not going to lie: after seeing how easily she corrupted Rufio, I was enjoying this moment. The damn lizard needed to learn that she couldn't push me around so easily.

Tryst growled at me. She spun and slammed me with her tail. I staggered back, clenching my gut. Damn, that hurt! "Ah ah ah!" I held up her luxury ball, and the lizard froze. "Thts rght ...nw bck ff, r uu go n ur bull!"

Tryst circled me. The lizard's mind was turning, working over the situation. She was plotting something, but I didn't know what. She was never trained by her previous owner, and was practically a wild animal. What could she possibly do to outwit me?

"Nw Trst," I began. "Colm dwn, nd w'll wurk n ur trning."

The salazzle stood up and opened her mouth. She began a gross retching sound from the back of her throat. And then she spewed a wad of purple gunk right in my face. I was blinded, but otherwise felt fine. I laughed.

"Is tht ull uu got, lzurd?"

But then I heard a hissing sound. I smelled something funny. And an icy pit formed in my stomach as I realized I failed to account for one teeny weenie itsy bitsy tiny little detail.

Every pokemon has innate abilities. Some are pretty nifty, like meowth's ability to find dropped items and gift them to their trainer. Others are very powerful, like pikachu's static allows it to paralyze an opponent on contact. Then there's salazzle, which has a unique ability shared with no other pokemon in the world. Salazzle's ability is called "corrosion." Their poison can eat through anything. In the wild, this ability lets them prey upon the steel-typed alolan sandshrew.

And it's also why my gas mask was melting.

I tore the gas mask off my face as the rubber bubbled and dissolved. I could already smell the pheromones. So musky, so sickly-sweet. Panic clawed at my psyche. Arceus, what should I do? This damn lizard took away my lucario, took away my gas mask ... I was losing control of the situation ...

I couldn't lose control of the situation.

As soon as I reached for Tryst's Luxury Ball, she pounced, knocking me to the floor. The ball rolled out of my hands. Tryst scrambled on top of me and coughed a cloud of noxious perfume in my face. I coughed as the thick gas got in my lungs. I threw her off. She tumbled and rolled to the ground. My eyes began to water, my mind felt fuzzy ... damn this lizard! Tryst's eyes zeroed in on her ball, behind me. She scrambled for it on all fours, surprisingly fast.

"No!" I twisted my body and kicked off the ground, launching myself. We collided, my head slammed against hers. I pushed her off of me, she tail slapped me in the face and scooped the ball up. I dove for her, and brought her down with me. I got a hand on her ball and pulled. This salazzle did not have the dense muscles of a fighting-type, like my lucario. Her grip was slipping, her claws scratching the enabled coating.

And then ...

And then ...

And then I turned my head. We locked eyes, and I saw the intense desire in them ... I saw how much she wanted her ball.

No ... I saw how much she wanted me.

And I realized how happy she'd be if I gave her the ball.

I didn't want to. But ... those shocking effeminate purple eyes, so full of wanton, carnal desire ... she wanted it. She wanted her ball more than me. So logically, that meant ... she should have it. Yes ... I wanted her to have it.

I loosened my grip of her ball. Tryst hopped in the air, squealing in victory. Now she controlled her own pokeball: she alone was the master of her fate.

And I blinked, realizing what an absolutely terrible idea that was.

I tackled her. Hissing, she scratched me all over with her foot claws, shredding my shirt to ribbons. I grimaced and bore the hot pain of the scratches, tearing the pokeball from her slender fingers. It popped from our grip, rolling across the floor.

Tryst tried to shove me away. I pounced on her. We hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of her lungs with a grunt. I flipped her on her back, pinned her arms above her head. The salazzle struggled under the weight of my body. She squirmed and thrashed. But I knew she couldn't throw me off. She did, too. A deep growl welled in her throat.

"Gotcha!" I yelled, triumphant. "See, I'm not as easy as a pokemon."

Tryst's eyes narrowed ... and I noticed a sort of smirk on her face. Her body relaxed. Her hind legs wrapped around my hips.

My eyes opened wide. "Wait ..."

I felt her long, muscular tail snake around one of my legs. Her thighs squeezed me tight against her. And I realized the crotch of my pants were ... growing awfully tight.

"Aaah! Gross!" I pushed away, rising to my knees. Tryst came with me, having wrapped her arms around my chest. I tried to peel her off of me. "Get off, get off!"

We fought and struggled, but I couldn't get the salazzle to let go. I had two limbs to her five! I tried to stand, but the tail around my leg threw my balance off. I fell back down, and I was right back where I started: the salazzle on her back, with me on top. Tryst clung close to me. Her hips grinded against mine. My mind was muddled, swimming in a pheromone-fueled haze. I felt my resistance slipping. Just give the lizard what she wants ... she's beautiful ... she deserves it ...

"Stop it!" I mustered, half-heartedly trying to push her away. "You're a ... pokemon. It's wrong. We can't ..."

Oh, but we could. She wanted me. This beautiful, perfect pokemon actually wanted me! Her covetous gaze ... so mesmerizing. So flattering. I could stare into her eyes forever. Tryst leaned in, her throat churring softly. She ran her muzzle across my cheek. Her hot tongue lashed out, tasting my skin and giving me goosebumps. And then she pressed the tip of her snout to my lips. I was about to kiss a pokemon. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, the notion disgusted me. But I didn't want to stop. Her mouth opened, pressed against mine. Her tongue danced on my lips. I felt warm. So incredibly warm.

No, I felt more than warm ... I felt hot.

Very hot!

"Aaah!" I reared back as the flames coming off her spine curled around her body. Cackling, Tryst scurried out from under me. My shirt was on fire! It was so thoroughly shredded that it was easier to just rip off. Where's my fire extinguisher!? It's mounted on the wall! I scrambled for it and sprayed the white fog all over the floor.

During those short few seconds, Tryst nabbed her Luxury Ball. She moved for the gate and slammed into it. It's just a simple child-proof lock, not meant to withstand force. On the third charge, it broke open, and the salazzle was now loose in my house.

I finally got the fire out. Now, time to get that damn lizard. I whirled around and–

I fell on my butt. I couldn't find my balance, the room was spinning. That's when I noticed my nostrils burning from a new smell, like charred rubber and grease. I remembered that the gasses that salazzle emit become toxic when ignited. The damn lizard poisoned me!

"I'm gonna kill her," I muttered. "Then I'm gonna use a max revive on her. And then I'm gonna kill her again."

Gotta get to the medicine cabinet. It's in the corner, but even that seemed like an insurmountable distance. I crawled along the floor, then struggled to my feet, clinging to the wall. I flung the cabinet door open and rummaged through my supplies, letting potions and ethers fall to the ground in my haste. Aha, there's an antidote. But before I used it, I should get rid of all the gas, or I'll just get poisoned again. I unlocked the windows and threw them open. That's when I heard the commotion. I stuck my head out to get a better look.

Tryst was already in the backyard, captivating my rescue pokemon. The ones she affected were going crazy, as if she told them to destroy everything they see.

"No ... no no no no!" I stumbled out of the training room, antidote in hand.

...

Well, it took a while, but we're finally back to where my story started. Now picture me back in my living room, dazed and horrified at the score of entranced pokemon running amok. I tried pulling the pikachu away from the TV cord, and the little bastard shocked me. The mankeys, too, fought and struggled if I picked them up. Tryst was not content to merely escape: the damn lizard had decided to create as much mayhem as possible before she left. What a bitch! I was so angry at her!

But the fight wasn't over. I still had my wits. My skills. And my pokemon know-how.

First things first: I sprayed the antidote in my face, coughing as the astringent aerosol reached my lungs. Then I grabbed the fire extinguisher and put out the carpet fire. Next was the worst part: I had to ask Lilith for help.

I braved past the raging pokemon and crossed into the kitchen. The kadabra was there, floating cross-legged, surrounded by a shell of twisting, tumbling spoons. Just being near her gave me a headache.

"Lilith! Did Tryst get to you, too?"

The kadabra's whiskers flinched.Lilith's telepathic voice resonated in my mind. "Hush."

"Lilith, It's impor–"

"I require hushes, human. I am meditating."

I swung at her, knocking the spoons out of their orbit. Silverware went flying everywhere. "Fuck your meditation, I need your help: it's an emergency."

I know it seems like I was just impatient from the developing crisis, but trust me: I was deliberately being an asshole. Every pokemon requires a different behavioral approach. Some, like Lilith, will walk all over you if you show any weakness.

The kadabra sighed in displeasure. The remaining spoons clattered to the floor ... except her spoon: that tarnished, worn silver spoon returned to her hand. Her eyes opened slowly. "Your childish tantrum displeases me. Take your face ... your whole face, and shut it up."

I reached forward and grabbed the kadabra by her scrawny little neck. "You're gonna help me, or I'll take your spoon away."

Lilith grinned. Using her telekinesis, she forced my hand open, "Pathetic human! Try it. I'll fry your brain like a waffle!"

A pulse of psychic energy hit me like a truck. I staggered back, and tried not to show just how much pain I was in. "Arceus, I don't have time for your bullshit! Just ... help ... me ..."

Lilith's power radiated off her in waves. "Submit to me, human," the kadabra jeered. "Bow to your superior."

It felt like my mind was turning to pudding. My ears rang, my senses were knocked out of whack. My hands gripped the counter so hard that my knuckles turned white. It took every ounce of my willpower just to keep my thoughts on track. "You ... you know what murkrow are, right? Dark-typed bird pokemon from Johto, immune to psychic powers ... murkrow love shiny things. They'll steal from anyone."

The kadabra's eyes opened wide, her psionic onslaught stopped. "Your face lies."

"I know shelters all over the Kanto-Johto area. And the magnet train to Goldenrod City is just downtown. Getting one would take me about ... a few hours, tops."

Lilith growled, her whiskers twitched. "Typical human ... you can't do anything by yourself. Always needing a pokemon's aid ..." She was anxiously rubbing her spoon with her thumb, compulsively polishing it.

"Imagine your precious spoon sitting in some dirty little bird's nest, covered in feathers and grime, sitting in a pile of garbage for the end of time, and there's you ... your psychic abilities useless against dark types. You'd be powerless to get it back, beaten by a stupid little bird–"

"Silence!" The lights flickered, the clock on the wall started turning backwards. Lilith growled in displeasure. "Fine ... I will help you, but only if you shut up your face."

I poked her right in the punchable little star mark on her forehead. "Hypnotize every pokemon Tryst has affected, and contain them in the backyard until I get back. That's an order."

Lilith anxiously pushed my finger away: she doesn't like her personal space being invaded. "An easy task ... it's almost beneath me. And what of the infernal lizard face? I sense she's vacated the premises."

"I underestimated her this time," I cracked my knuckles. "But I know just how to hit her where it hurts."

One perk about my job is that there's no shortage of pokemon on-hand. It didn't take long to assemble a team. Tracking Tryst would be easy: I had a growlithe on-hand that could follow her scent. But before I found her, I had to find her ball. It's common for resentful pokemon to hide their own pokeball. Some may even destroy it – if they're able. My guess was she buried it somewhere.

That's why I brought along a magnemite: they're naturally attracted to electromagnetic waves, including the signals that pokeballs emit. Zippy's had a rough life, bouncing between homes before being abandoned due to "destructive compulsions". Magnemite feed on electricity! Zippy's trainers were too dense to grasp that it should have been taught that computers and TVs were not okay to feed on.

The growlithe took me over my fenced yard and across a dozen neighbors' lawns. We had already left my development when the magnemite zipped over to a flowerbed in someone's backyard. It beeped energetically, bouncing up and down.

"Nice job, Zip! Rex, go check it out."

The growlithe barked in affirmation. He began digging, his poofy tail wagging excitedly. He's a good pup, but gets anxious when separated from his owners. And unfortunately for his last trainer, when he's anxious he sets things on fire. Rex came back to me with a dirt-covered Luxury Ball in his mouth. He dropped it and looked up at me expectantly, panting and grinning like the goofy pupper he was.

"Excellent job, you two!" I showered both pokemon with affection – they deserved it.

I examined Tryst's ball. The once-beautiful charcoal and gold enamel was thoroughly scratched and covered in tooth marks, and the locking mechanism was broken: the hinges swung freely and wouldn't close. Which meant I couldn't put Tryst back in her ball until it's repaired. Any Pokecenter can do pokeball repair, but it will take time.

We continued on. Tryst was heading in the direction of downtown Saffron. Fortunately, Dodrios are a great choice for navigating the urban environment. Beau was relinquished by a trainer who couldn't put up with the violent squabbling of a three-headed pokemon. After taking them in, I discovered that Beau was never allowed outside to exercise, and developed self-harming behaviors to cope with the cabin fever. I swear, some people just shouldn't be allowed to own pokemon ...

I made good time riding on Beau's back, hopping fences between yards. Suddenly, Rex jumped out of my lap, and I eased Beau to a stop. We were on the grungy, poor edge of Saffron's urban district: the driveways were gravel and the yards were tiny, with merely spitting distance between houses. I was in somebody's backyard: this house had an rickety wooden deck with a rusty barbecue grill. Rex was barking at the space underneath the raised deck. I spotted Tryst between the wooden slats, hissing at the dog.

"Good job, Rex," I said, recalling the growlithe. I approached cautiously. "Tryst, I know you're probably scared. Let's get you out of there ..."

Tryst curled back into the far corner of the crawlspace and growled. I glanced to the house. No lights were on ... hopefully, no one's home. "Look, I'm not angry," I lied. "I know you already broke your ball. I just want to get you back home."

Slowly, I inched my way to the hole in the slats where she crawled through. Ugh, it was creepy under here ... with spiderwebs everywhere. I hate spiders. Tryst curled up in a ball, her long tail wrapped around her legs. Even looking as pissed as she was, she radiated pure, feminine beauty ...

Crap, the pheromones were still affecting me.

"Look, Tryst, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I'm sorry. But you can't run like that. I'm here to help you. We can work together. Now, come on ..." I took one step forward.

Tryst's back ignited like a burner. She struck the ground, sending sizzling embers my way. Flaming debris burned my new shirt, singed my skin. I screamed, dropping to the ground and desperately patting out the flames. The burn heals were back home, too. Ooh, I was going to have some blisters tomorrow ...

"Arceus, do that again, and I'll–" I stopped myself. Keep your cool, Riley! I tried to think. "Such violence is unbecoming of a pokemon as ... beautiful as you."

Tryst's head shot up. She looked surprised. "You know that word? Beautiful? You've been called that word before, haven't you?." I stepped away from the hole and beckoned her. "Your last trainer called you beautiful, too. Just before he took you to bed ..." The salazzle's eyes unfocused. She seemed to be recalling a memory.

"Come on out, beautiful ... Please?"

Slowly, the lizard unfurled her limbs. She crawled forward on all fours. The way her hips moved with every step ... I wanted to feel those hips against mine. Ugh, I disgusted myself. "That's it, nice and easy ..."

Tryst pounced before I could make a move. I was knocked on my back, onto freshly-cut grass. My head hit the ground hard. I grabbed the salazzle by the waist before she could flee. She struggled, growling, as I pulled her on top of me. She slashed my new shirt, giving me new cuts. But I held steady. I wasn't trying to subdue her ... I was only trying to hold her still.

"Tryst, please ..." I half-whispered.

The lizard froze. Then seemed to remember something. Her entire demeanor changed: she relaxed, the corners of her mouth spread in a grin. She straddled me, and I once again felt my pants swell. Oh, how eager I was to feel her on top of me ...

"There we go ..." I ran a hand up her dazzling pink and gray chest. The texture of her smooth scales excited me. She pressed her hips against mine. I didn't even care anymore. My pants were painfully tight. I ran my hand to the small of her back, then moved down her tail. "I want to smell you," I whispered. "Kiss me."

Tryst laid down on me, growling softly in her throat. Her tail curled around her body as pheromones rolled off it, like smoke. Her tail tip curled under her snout. She inhaled her own scent, preparing to blow the intoxicating gas directly into my lungs with a kiss. "Yes ... that's it. Jusssst ... like ... that ..." I reached for my belt ...

And I unhooked a pokeball from its clip.

"Daisy, come out!"

Tryst flinched as the pokeball opened with a flash of light, and a slowpoke appeared. The lizard coughed out her noxious cloud at the new, unexpected threat. The gas billowed against the slowpokes face. The slowpoke blinked, completely unfazed.

It had no effect!

"Disable her pheromones! Now!"

The slowpoke's eyes flashed. A blue pulse traveled through both of us. I felt a numbing sensation wash over me, like I had been dipped in cold glue. It passed in seconds. Tryst finally squirmed out from my grip. She got down to all fours, growling at me and her new foe. Her tail swayed and shook vigorously. But this time, there was no waft of purple gas.

"What's wrong, Tryst?" I jeered, raising myself up on one elbow. "Never met a slowpoke before?"

After what happened to Rufio, I assumed that I couldn't trust other pokemon around Tryst. But Lilith was right about humans always needing pokemon's aid: I couldn't do this alone. There's always a pokemon for the job. I merely needed a pokemon that could block opponents from using certain moves ... a pokemon so utterly oblivious that it was immune to any form of attraction ... a pokemon that had a decisive advantage against a fire and poison type.

And luckily for me, there's one pokemon that fits all those needs.

Tryst looked down her tail in confusion. She kept trying, as if swaying her tail harder would work. Oh, I was loving every second of this. In fact, I was cherishing it. The look on her face was priceless! "Daisy put a mental block on you, Tryst. You literally can't remember how to spread your pheromones. Don't even bother."

Tryst realized she was running out of options. She spewed a flame burst at the slowpoke. The slowpoke shrugged off the attack with its thick, moist skin. I couldn't help but smile. Tryst turned to flee. She came face-to-face with the magnemite, who had been taken the position on my orders. Zippy buzzed angrily, blocking her exit around the house. Beau circled her, boxing her in from three sides. And Daisy ... stared blankly ahead. Now all I had to do is bring her in. I grabbed Tryst by the arm. That's game over. I had won!

"You're done, you lusty little lizard. Now, Zippy: use thunderwa–"

A deluge of ice water shocked me to my core. I sputtered and yelped, falling to my feet in surprise.

"Get off of my property, pervert!"

I wiped my dripping brow and looked up to see an old man in a ratty bathrobe on the deck of the house, an empty bucket in his hand. "The hell!? What are you–"

"I saw what you were doing with that salazzle! You sick freak!"

"But it–that wasn't–it was just a trick! A set-up to get her to–"

"As if hooligan kids smoking behind my prized gardenia bushes wasn't bad enough! Now I have pokefuckers trespassing on my property!"

"Old man, I was just trying to lure her into a tr–"

"Oh, you were luring her, alright! Luring her into your pants!" He turned to the back door. "Ellen! Get another bucket! This one's as stupid as he is sick!"

"Hey! that's not–it's not what it looked like!"

He grabbed a spatula off his barbecue and threw it at me. "Get off of my property before I call the police!"

I raised my arms to shield myself. Beau kneeled down beside me, anxiously nudging me with one its heads. I looked to my left. Tryst was gone, Zippy lay on the ground, surrounded by burning grass. Steel types can't handle fire: their metal bodies absorb all that heat energy and, well ... overheat. Daisy didn't think to stop her, naturally. Without a trainer's orders, slowpokes are as mentally active as a soap dish.

"Shit ... shit! Help me up, Beau." The dodrio ducked a head under each arm and lifted me to my feet. I hopped on his back and recalled Zippy and Daisy back to their balls. "Which way did she go?"

Beau's three heads honked and pointed off into the street. "Okay, after her!"

"Yeah, you better run!" I heard the old man yell. "And if I ever see you back here molesting pokemon again, I'll call my grandson! He's a world-class pokemon trainer, you know! Works at the Saffron Dojo! Ellen, where's my blood pressure meds? What do you mean you don't know!?"

I didn't have time to feel embarrassed over what happened ... I had to find Tryst. Damnit, I was so close! That old man ruined everything!

No ... I had to admit: I was too busy gloating to make my move. That damn lizard was still in my head!

Rex picked up her scent again, and we were once again headed closer downtown. In a few short blocks, the tightly-packed, single-story neighborhoods transitioned into tall apartment complexes, narrow streets, and chintzy corner stores. Rex traced out a convoluted, looping trail through the same empty lots and derelict streets: it seemed that Tryst couldn't decide where to go. Or maybe the growlithe had simply lost her scent. I wondered if she was scared or anxious of this unfamiliar world of concrete and neon lights. I came to a stop at a busy street corner, shivering from my soaked clothes. Throngs of people passed around me and Beau, cars and taxis honked their horns. I asked passersby if they had seen a large black lizard recently, and they shook their heads.

"Come on, Tryst ... where are you?" I muttered. Think, Riley, think: if you were her, where would you go?

Well, most pokemon would look for a safe spot to hide. Some place they can feel comfortable and secure. But why head downtown? Why not away from the city, where there's grass and trees and–

Wait. I thought back to my salazzle research. Salazzle don't live outdoors, they prefer the volcanic caves of Akala Island. And in a city, the closest thing to caves were ...

The sewers ... oh no.

Saffron's sewers had their fair share of dangers. There's rumors of mysterious pokemon lurking in the depths, like giant feraligators and such. Sometimes, burrowing onix tunnel into the system, causing cave-ins and shutting down parts of the city. And there's no shortage of toxic grimer that feed on the waste. Tryst could be in terrible danger. I had to find her fast.

I found a quiet back alley and had Zippy levitate a manhole cover for me. Things were about to get gross, but I couldn't back down now. I descended the rusty ladder, trying hard not to retch. The air down here was heavy and pungent; it clung to me like a greasy film. Thick electrical cables stretched across the ceiling, continuing on for seemingly forever. The only light sources were stray sun rays that filtered down from the gutters overhead, so I had Zippy illuminate our path.

The stench down here was nauseating, but Rex still managed to pick up her trail. We set off at once. Feral rattata prowled the narrow, slime-covered causeways. They hissed and chattered at our intrusion, but kept their distance. The murky, dirty water shimmered, indicating the presence of feeding grimer. Ugh, I'd do anything for a super repel right now ...

Rex and I traveled the causeways for a great while, passing grate-covered culverts and barren vestibules where city workers had once stored pipe for new construction. I stepped in so much filth that my shoes were ... well, I'm gonna need new ones, to say the least.

Rex ran ahead, to the next intersection. He barked excitedly. "What is it, Rex? Find her?"

BOOM!

A far-off blast sent a shockwave down the tunnel, hurting my eardrums and sending a compressed wave of noxious gas past me. Rex yelped and jumped back. He fell into the sewer canal with a splash and I reacted quickly, returning him to his pokeball.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I sprinted forward, following the source of the sound. I took a left ... then a right ... and arrived at a dead end, where a chained door stood.

There she was.

Curled up into the grimy, mucky corner ...covered in ash, her eyes closed, body motionless.

A pair of koffing lay before her, conked out cold. Tryst must have used fire to protect herself, and the flames ignited the methane within the koffing, causing them to explode. I rushed to her, checked her breathing. She was barely conscious. "Dammit, Tryst! You stupid lizard ... I got you, okay? You're safe now."

I pick her up. The lizard hung limp in my arms. Oh, how I wanted to throttle her, yell at her, rebuke her. I wanted to tell her that she was stupid for running away, destroying her pokeball, and jeopardizing her own safety. I wanted to punish her for making me run across the city, force me to crawl into the sewers, and get covered in filth ...

But wouldn't. At least, not now. She may be a smelly bundle of trouble that ruined my day, my clothes, and my home ... but she was hurt, and in pain. And as her trainer, her care was still my number one responsibility.

"Come on, Tryst," I said, hefting her in my arms. "I'll protect you. You're gonna be okay. Let's get you home."

The salazzle shuddered, wheezing softly. Her eyes opened. She looked up at me ...

Then she wrapped her arms around my neck.

I know it sounds cheesy and cliche ... but pokemon training is really about earning its trust. Sure, you can teach it powerful techniques for battle, feed it loads of performance enhancers, or hit the gym to improve its stats ... but a pokemon will never reach its true potential until it fully believes in its trainer. There's just something about that special bond that will make a pokemon fight harder, overcome impossible situations, and survive even the most powerful attacks. And it's not just a perception of morale, or mental toughness: a pokemon that fully trusts their trainer will even live longer, healthier lives. It's almost as if they're designed to bond with humans. That mysterious power, at its core, is what make pokemon so special.

I knew I still had a long way to go with this salazzle. But I knew that the moment she decided to hold on tight, that she learned her first – and most important – lesson: you can trust your trainer.

THE END