Don Lucario

Premise: Tired of his dreary life as a simple orran berry farmer, Lucario gladly responds to the call of adventure when he hears it. Now, with his venerable mentor, his quest is to bring low the “Pokemon League” which holds all of Sinnoh in their dastardly grip.

Except his mentor is a twelve year old, the Pokemon League isn’t really that dastardly, and Lucario is most definitely off his rocker.

Chapter 1:

Lucario eyed his erstwhile travelling companion somewhat dubiously. Tales of valor often had secondary characters to accompany the hero, true. And, after all, dramatic monologues were always better when given to an audience that could “ooh” and “aah” appreciatively at the right moments. But somehow, he’d always imagined he’d be trailed by a gorgeous gardevoir, or a stolid stoutland, or perhaps even a genteel grovyle.

In no case did he ever expect to be travelling alongside a bidoof.

But, in any case, perhaps the situation could be salvaged. Taking in the rounded face and poofy fur of his newfound compatriot, he found himself warming to his fellow pokemon. Yes, a “bawdy” bidoof would serve adequately, comedic relief from his own more sombre nobility.

“Sooo... are you going to say anything, or just stare at me? My name’s Sancho, by the way.”

The bidoof interrupted Lucario’s reverie, and he gasped, chagrined. He bowed as low as he could while still walking.

“My deepest apologies, good sir. I beg of you to forgive my transgressions against good manners.”

Sancho eyed him strangely, but nevertheless forgave him.

“Then, I will introduce myself: I am Lucario.”

“... Yeah. I mean, your name, not your species. Like, I’m a bidoof, but my name is Sancho.”

“Well, I am a lucario, and my name is Lucario.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. It is the custom of my people to name our children such, to serve as a reminder that the actions of one of us reflect on all of us.”

“But what did people call you when they needed you specifically, instead of any other lucario?”

“Dipshit.”

Sancho blinked. “I see.”

Lucario forcefully suppressed his memories of the judgemental, gossiping harpies that made up his village. He was on a capital H, capital Q Heroic Quest to defend good and strike down evil, and that meant he had, indeed, shown them all!

That perhaps sounded a little villainous, so as an afterthought, he appended “...the error of their ways” to his previous statement.

With a look of naked gratitude, he glanced at the one responsible for it all. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than the ability to convey his feelings to the human in their own native tongue.

Indeed, he would have to put all his mental faculties towards becoming conversant in the human tongue, to remove the need for bidoof-- for Sancho, that is-- to serve as an interlocutor.

He remembered their meeting like it had happened yesterday (although in truth, it had happened barely three hours ago.) Already, it took on the faded color of myth in his memories; how the human had asked (through Sancho) for his help in defeating this dastardly “Pokemon League” that so oppressed his people. How the human would teach Lucario the secrets of his people in return for Lucario’s assistance. How he had (through Sancho) zealously pledged himself to the human’s cause (only to later find out that Sancho merely understood human, and regrettably could not speak it). How their contract had been finalized through his entry into that fascinating globular device Sancho called a “pokeball.”

How--

A strangled noise escaped Lucario’s mouth as he tripped over an exposed roof.

Seeking to salvage the situation, he acted as if he had merely been bending down to inspect the nails of his paw.

Sancho did not comment on Lucario’s ignominious stumble, and Lucario was suffused with gratitude for his traveling companion. How he wished he could reprimand past-Lucario for his lack of faith in Lady Luck’s choice of traveling companions.

How loyal his comrades! How rosy the future looked!

This, he knew, was the true beginning of his story!

(This, he knew, meant that no one could ever scold him for daydreaming when he should have been harvesting orran berries again. Ha!)