I Sting (Pokemon Poison Type Specialist)

Chapter 1

“And the winner is -” Virah turned off the TV and let her head slump against the back of her chair, the current circuit for this year's Johto League was about to end and that meant she only had 3 months left before she needed to go out into the world and start her own journey to become a Pokemon master.

Which she wanted to do because like any normal kid, Virah dreamt of making it big as a trainer and doing nothing but Pokemon battles for the rest of her life.

And the trainers on TV made it seem so easy; what with their well groomed and healthy Pokemon duking it out against those with the same state.

Virah didn't- never had the funds to get to that state.

She groaned.

‘That Kangaskhan was bigger than how they were normally seen in the wild,’

Taller by an extra 3 foot and wider by several margins.

That behemoth of a Pokemon was something of an exemplary example of its species, and had most likely been bred from parents that were just as, if not more healthier than their offspring.

Breeding; wheedling, baby making.

In her work- no, internship for the past year, Virah had seen Pokemon do that and more. She went as far as overseeing the process actually.

Virah wouldn't really call herself a voyeur, but well, it's part of the job- and as a breeder/move tutor/unpaid intern (she does get food, and… education, homeschooled- from the program this particular center ran, which wasn't connected to her job- and that was also before she passed the mock test to get into Trainer School.)

Anyhow, as an unpaid intern of the Pokemon Breeding Centre that had generously taken her in, it could be said that watching Pokemon… fornicate is rather normal. For her. Or something.

Well- it is normal, actually, but most of the time, Virah preferred watching her Beedrills simply fly away and lay eggs a few days later, since that at least didn't let her see two colossal Pokemon 4 times her size go at it in an attempt to dominate each other, destroying the daycare grounds they were oh so purposefully left on by their trainer/s in the process.

But speaking of her Beedrills- Virah got up and stretched, two hours of watching, studying, and learning from Pokemon battles took their toll on her joints and they popped like the explosive Forretress she had seen on TV a while back.

That had been a good move, or at least Virah thought so.

But sacrificing your own hazard setter at the start of the match in an attempt to take out your opponent's lead was a common enough tactic that the guy on the other side of the ring had practically expected it, so the Protect that followed after the Forretress’ Explosion hadn't really been a surprise.

Virah got out of the breakroom and into the sterile white halls of the Centre's incubation ward.

She made her way out of the area, passing by windowed walls that led to rooms full of eggs contained in cradles placed directly underneath heating lamps that glowed a dull orange.

Most of these eggs were labeled based on species and the cradles- assuming that someone ordered for them, - had names on them. Trainer names. Rich ones.

Virah peered inside one of these rooms as she passed it by, an incubation room for the Hitmon Chan species, a preferred Pokemon for most of the martial artists of the world.

The Tyrogue eggs lay inside in perfect organization, their placement no different from the martial discipline they would be learning in the future. A few eggs occasionally twitched, a sign that they will hatch soon.

Virah pried her eyes away from one of the Centre's most prized Pokemon- which were not just popular, but also wanted by a rather large Demographic of trainers, making the Tyrogue species a Pokemon in the form of income, - and focused on her current duties.

When she got out of the Incubation Ward, she immediately headed for the ranch at the back of the center, and there, she proceeded to do her regular, 8 - 3 Saturday morning job. She went on to feed the various Rhyhorn, the baby Pokemon, as well as the current set of professional Pokemon that had been taken in by the Centre for breeding.

Pokemon that either came from low-level Elite Trainers or even the occasional Gym Leader.

Virah could only stare at them in awe and their sight has never gotten old.

And all of them were docile enough to just watch her pour bags of Pokefeed, and some were more than willing to be petted, but most were laid back and drowsy, preferring to sleep their days away instead of doing anything physically demanding.

It took Virah exactly until the afternoon to finish her duties- with extra overtime thanks to her cleaning up the messes of some of the baby Pokemon, - but when her job was done, then it was done. And now, she had all the rest of the afternoon and evening for herself.

“See you guys!” Virah threw her messy apron to the basketcase on the side of the room and waved her coworkers goodbye before clocking out.

Now free from her duties and responsibilities, the first thing that Virah did was head straight to her own little corner of the breeding center: A ranch that thanks to its small size and remote location, had been abandoned by the Centre in favor of the newly built, far larger, and more optimized ranches at the front of the main building.

It had been rumored that the place she was using had been the origin of the Breeding Centre, a daycare that was once owned by an elderly couple that they passed down to their son- the current CEO that manages the particular brand of breeding centers that Virah worked for.

It was also rumored that this little ranch was special, with magical properties that heal Pokemon and make them grow healthier and better. Rumors that Virah knew were Taurusdung because all the Weedles that were born and raised here were either useless enough to be turned into food, or were so subpar that she felt bad for them and simply released them into the wild.

The ones that turned into Beedrills were the best of the best and those, those got to evolve and breed for the next generation, which much like their parents, would be judged to see if they were good enough to evolve and be bred.

And Virah has repeated this process enough that by now, they were on their fourth generation, making the Weedles currently waddling about on the grass to be quite the contender for being “well bred”.

Even with that kind of work behind them though, no one wanted Bug Types, why would they? They were weak and were meant for children to play with.

… and the people who say that were right.

Bug Types were, in fact, weak, and the ones who mostly took them in were children, or bug catchers, as most people called them. Virah had gotten such a title- and she was even gifted a bug net for her birthday last year. It was a rather useful tool for catching any prospective and powerful Weedle in the outskirts of some routes.

The title had stuck itself on her person like glue but she wasn't going to be like Bugsy- no, she wanted to be someone like Koga.

Poison types; that's the end goal for her.

Pokemon that, like bugs, were considered to be “useless” by most- as the preferred fighting style of most Kantonian and Johtonian trainers is to just go ahead and attack, - but that sort of reputation is far from the truth, as Poison types were useful defensively, and they can, given enough time, be able to win by stalling out the opposing team.

… assuming that they don't have Psychic Types, that is.

But Koga still makes do and wins despite that weakness so clearly, there's some merit to raising such Pokemon.

Virah believes so.

And these Weedles in front of her, the tiny, segmented, oranged colored little blobs waddling about like idiots, were the start of her journey.

And Weedles were short-lived yes, but most Bug Types are and yet, those who owned the most powerful of them had been with their respective Pokemon for years, and Koga and his Ariados had been fighting together for Decades.

“It's only a matter of training,” Virah reassured herself as she picked up a particularly large Weedle from the bunch, causing it to let out little squeaks but not flail around in hate. The Beedrills weren't here right now- and even if they were, they wouldn't bother to attack her, - so it was only her and their children.

And this one felt like something that would grow up to be a powerhouse so Virah, trusting her gut instinct- like hundreds of times before, - did a check up on the little insect, it's circularly segmented body parts were larger than even the heads of its siblings- no, his- his siblings, the little guy was a he.

Satisfied that the gender of the Beedrill was the one commonly associated with size and power for this particular species of Pokemon- and a few others too, she supposed, - Virah went on and proceeded to check on with the rest of the features and traits that make Pokemon into battlers.

His skin felt smooth and as hard as a black apricorn- the one commonly used to make Heavy Balls, - and the stinger on his forehead was sharp enough to puncture Virah's skin with just a light touch. The little stubs the Weedle called his feet were rubbery, and also tough, Virah poked them and felt resistance pushing back her finger.

She nodded and placed the little guy down; all those qualities determined a Pokemon's Health, Defense, Special Defense, Attack, and more importantly for Beedrills, Speed.

And the results of the check up were positive.

The Weedle passed the initial stage but Virah would have to test it out first if it was going to be another Beedrill meant to pass on its genes or her very first Pokemon.

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