Joel, a young man trying to survive a dangerous new Kanto - [Ongoing]

"Good afternoon, and welcome to KS-4 News. Earlier today, reports of an incident at the Cerulean City Gym started coming in. Allegedly, Gym Leader Misty entered an altercation with several other members of the gym, which eventually culminated in a fight in which gym members attempted to capture her. Whether this incident actually occurred, and its outcome, are currently unknown. Representatives from the Cerulean City Gym could not be reached for comment. In other news-"

Click.

You sigh, as you put down the remote. Don't these news guys get sick of reporting on this shit? I mean, it's not particularly newsworthy anymore...

You cram the rest of your peanut butter sandwich in your mouth and chug your glass of water as you get up. Time to get ready for work. You’ve got the night shift today.

As you slip your uniform on, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Your short, messy brown hair, and thin face. Your blue apron, and its nametag, which displays your name in plain text: "Joel Whittaker". You're the spitting image of an average Poké Mart worker. If your younger self could see this, he'd probably cry. To be honest, a younger Joel probably would've already been crying at the fact that you were eating a peanut butter sandwich without jelly. How'd things ever get this bad?

Two years ago, you’d been a bright, confident, high-school graduate, eagerly looking forward to the start of your college years. You weren’t the smartest person in your classes, but you compensated via sheer determination. Once you’d set your mind on something, you wouldn’t give up. You knew what you wanted, and you knew you wouldn’t give up until you’d got it. And what you wanted most was to get a degree in architecture and open your own design firm.

Then, on one sunny, completely innocuous Wednesday morning, you turned on the news to hear reports that people had begun accidentally being captured in Poké Balls. It seemed that the most recent batch shipped out in mass by Silph Co. were faulty. At first, the government assured everyone that everything was under control. They claimed that headway was being made on a way to reverse the effects of the capsules, and that a product recall was in effect. But it wasn’t long before these assurances stopped completely, and rumors of the captures of top government figures began to spread.

Within weeks, the nightmare stopped being one that was solely confined to the news. People around town, people you knew, started going missing. You started seeing more and more shady figures hanging around the streets of your hometown of Pewter City. As gangs and criminal organizations grew in power, and governmental support dwindled to the bare minimum, the police's ability to maintain order began to weaken. And because young people were especially big targets, colleges were **** to close, crushing your dreams. Eventually, the media began reporting that the other regions of the world had decided to put Kanto on a lockdown, to prevent the spread of such dangerous technology. Nobody could get in or out.

That was the last straw. Using your college funds, you moved away to the diminutive Pallet Town, and began working in a local Poké Mart. The isolated, somewhat self-sufficient nature of the town and its small size has prevented human capture from becoming common. And there you have stayed for the past two years. Life isn't all that much different; the government and police still operate to some capacity, and what they can no longer do is instead covered by the gangs. But you can't rely on others to survive anymore.

Ding!

"Hello. Welcome to the Poké Mart. How may I help you today," you emotionlessly recite. God, night shifts suck.

"Just point me in the direction of your drinks, will ya?" The man who'd just entered flashes you a toothy grin.

You gesture to the far wall without even looking. "Cooler in the back, over there."

The man walks off. You sigh. Night shifts truly do suck. But working here, night shifts and all, is better than the alternative, right? I mean, Pallet Town has virtually no capture incidents. But does that even matter? Somehow, the idea of human capture has been dulled down in your mind by the constant exposure. Can what the new normal is even really be considered that bad? It's just a fact of life. You can kinda even understand why people do it. In a way, this world is kill or be killed.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the man slamming a six-pack of beers down on the counter in front of you. "Oh, uhhh... that'll be $5.67."

The man's toothy grin spreads a little wider. "Oh, I don't think you're gonna be needing me to pay." He unzips his jacket, before flipping it out to reveal a bright red patch in the shape of an R. Your heart races. Team Rocket. This guy's Team Rocket.

The man's grin persists. "So you recognize that, huh? Wasn't sure, with how backwoods this place is..." He reaches inside the jacket and fishes out a Poké Ball. "In that case... I'll betcha know what this is, right? Ever seen one before? Pallet Town's one of the few places that still only has the old models available, right?"

"L-listen. The beer's yours, man. I don't want any trouble."

"Great, I knew we'd understand each other! Besides, you're far from my type. You won't be seeing me again, so... just forget this ever happened!" He begins to pick up his beer.

Ding!

No. Fuck. Not now. You and the man both turn to see a young woman enter the store. She's slightly shorter than average, with long, voluminous, wavy red hair, contained at the top by a beanie. Her freckled face is surly, and in tandem with her work boots, leggings, and the fur-lined, green duffel jacket which loosely hangs from her thin frame, she gives off the impression of someone who's out of fucks to give. Upon entering the store, she doesn't bother sparing you or the man even a glance, and makes a beeline for the ****.

The man whistles softly, before leaning across the counter. "Now THAT is one worth bringing back with me. Damn. If you don't wanna be here for, uh, what happens next... you're free to go. Ya know, if you don't wanna have to be a witness, for the police reports. They still file those around here for captures, right?" With that, he winks and begins making his way towards the woman, Poké Ball in hand.

You sit there for a moment, stunned. What should you do? Are you really ok with this? Could you even do anything if you wanted? If you tried? The man has begun talking with the woman. The growing volume in the woman's voice manages to snap you from your stupor. You hop the counter and begin running. You can't rely on others for protection. Gotta save yourself.

You're halfway out the door when you hear the woman scream, before being cut off by the distinctive sound of the Poké Ball activating. Too late for her. Gotta save yourself. Gotta save yourself-

You stop. Wait. Weren't you the guy who knew what he wanted, and wouldn't give up till he got it? Is this what you want? To live like this... it's not, is it? If you lose sight of yourself, your dreams, the Joel you want to be will fade. Will die. Continuing to live like this might be even worse than being captured. So, what do you want? What you want... is to show that son-of-a-bitch. He thinks he can just come in here, and do as he pleases?

With a rage fueled by two years of self-hatred, you turn around and charge back into the store. As you pick up speed, you begin to brace yourself. Faster, faster...

Impact. You body slam the shelf on the other side of the man as hard as you can, toppling it. He turns around, too late. "What the-"

The shelf comes down, cutting off the man. Silence. You wait another minute. Nothing. Seems like he's out. You try lifting the shelf. It's hard, but not impossible; much of its weight came from the products it had carried, which now line the floor. You manage to drag it off of him, before deciding to let it rest on his ankles. Just in case.

Now for an equally pressing matter. You scan the item laden floor, before finally finding your target; the Poké Ball the woman was captured in. Looks like she didn't manage to break free. You pick up the capsule, take a deep breath , and activate it. A shimmering light sprays out, rapidly coalescing into the form of the woman, kneeling on the floor. Her eyes lock on to you. She looks... alarmed. To say the least.

"That- that guy's knocked out," you gesture toward his body. "I uh, dropped a shelf on him." You sigh. "Um, what's your name?"

The woman's eyes don't break their gaze. "...Margo."