Step 10: Barter (Patreon)

Step 10: Barter 

Goldenrod City.

“Name and badge?” 

“Uki’uki. Zephyr.” Excusing the fact that the Pokédex I’d handed my interrogator held the information he requested front and centre in big, bright font - I struggled to reconcile why he insisted on using a torch to read it. Not only was the dex screen backlit, the sun was radiating upon us with the fury of Solgaleo itself. 

Probably had something to do with the unnecessary pair of black sunglasses he was wearing. 

As the would-be bouncer surveyed my ID with the distrustful scrutiny of an Unovan immigration officer, I awkwardly stared at his partner Pokémon. The grumpy Sentret, confidently balanced on his tail, was about the largest of the species I’d ever seen that wasn’t an alpha ‘mon. 

Either someone spent their off-hours training for the Pokéathlon, or the scout Pokémon was huffing the protein hard.

“Purpose of your visit?” Oh. He wasn’t blind, just stupid.

“Sen!” That’s right, you tell him! The Sentret softly knocked the dex out of the bouncer’s hand with his fluffy tail and into mine. It then provided a Helping Hand to its trainer - though at this point the relationship could very well have been reversed - by pointing at the giant sign overhead, proudly and blatantly announcing to the entire region where we were. ‘Global Trade System’ aka the GTS.

 “I’m here to trade Pokémon.” But just in case he’d been hit with a few too many Headbutts throughout his life, I informed him anyway.

“Oh, yeah…. Alrighty, in you go. Please move along in an orderly fashion.” 

“Bing-bong. Welcome to the Pokémon GTS Goldenrod branch.” The automated greeting blared over the speakers as I entered through the sliding gate of the building. 

This was merely the ground floor foyer, where domestic trades took place. There were registration swap machines that allowed for in-person trades, as well as stations and terminals that facilitated the digital transfer of Pokémon to anyone within Johto. And it was totally packed.

Suddenly the bouncer routine outside was making sense, because there were probably nightclubs on Friday nights less busy than this. 

Good thing my destination was on another floor. 

I meandered through the parade of blinking lights, twinkling music, and shady exchanges that honestly reminded me of the game corner.

Putting my Pokédex away, I fondled my pockets to pull out my hard earned GTS access card I’d swindled from my victory over Falkner. The same card that allowed me to bypass the three badge requirements for the cross-regional section of the GTS.

Then another idiot proved himself to be my second Obstagoon for the day. 

“Let me in! Let me in!” A young man did his best to Howl and Flail at the threshold of the stairwell that led upstairs. 

While a uniformed attendant, who seemed on the brink of losing her patience, tried to explain why he couldn’t access the upper level. “Sir, please, you can only enter if you are a holder of at least three gym badges-”

“-Or unless you have one of these. Mind if I cut in line?” I sidestepped the youngster as he desperately and belligerently squirmed in the security Machamp’s careful grasp. 

“Ah! Yes. Please excuse me while I scan your permission.” Taking my proferred access card, the attendant readily turned her back on the whiny Weedle.

“What the-? This is Trubbish! How come he doesn’t have to show three badges? What the hell is even that!? If you let him in, you’ve gotta let me too or it’s discrimination! I’ll Screech it from the rooftops of this city. You don’t understand. I hafta beat Whitney and that Arceus damned Miltank of hers! She’s my first stepping stone on the road to becoming the Pokémon champion!” I had to hand it to the attendant for having the capacity to Endure the tantrum.

She handed me my printed ticket from the kiosk, along with my access card. “Apologies for the long wait.” ‘27’ was my queue number - ‘estimated wait time: one hour.’ “Due to the recent commencement of the league conference, we are currently experiencing heavy traffic at our terminals. We regret the inconvenience this may cause.” 

In typical Johto fashion, the overbearingly polite customer service training reared its unwelcome head, and she bowed while saying her sorrys. 

This cultural aspect that really didn’t gel with my inherent Alolan (not to mention trans-migrational) values. I still hadn’t quite developed the reflex, so my returning bow wasn’t as smooth. “It’s cool. Don’t worry-”

Still dangling from the Machamp’s ceaseless grip, the youngster halted his writhing, fell limp, and breathed out a contemptuous sigh. “One hour, are you kidding!? This is a load of Barbaracles!” Customer care agents in this region, like Gengar, never stopped smiling. But at the freshly hatched protestation, I could tell the GTS rep was ready to trade the ghost Pokémon smile for Koffing’s instead. Just so she could use its signature move - Explosion. 

Time to clear the blast radius. The last thing I saw before the elevator doors closed was the attendant commanding her Machamp to Seismic Toss the loud mouth straight out the gate. 

–

Ding. “Number 27. Number 27. Please proceed to station P.” 

It wasn’t the announcement of my turn arriving that woke me up from my brisk forty-five minute nap. “Yeowch!” But Yecu, my cranky Krabby, clamping my shin between his pincers served as my alarm. 

My jolly crustacean wasn’t normally like this, and I didn’t have anyone else but myself to blame for his poor mood. 

As soon as I released my two Pokémon to help me choose their new teammate, Yecu panicked and made the erroneous assumption that I was about to trade one or both of them away.

Baloo, my starter Teddiursa, couldn’t have cared less even if that was the case. He just climbed up on Krabby’s carapace and curled up for a snooze. Still pretty pooped from our victorious gym challenge back in Violet City since I didn’t bother to rest after getting dropped off by Falkner’s delivery boy. 

Yecu, on the other claw, was skittering around frantically. Terrified that I was about to kick him to the curb for something better.

Our mach-speed trip over was actually what clinched the decision for my choice of new addition to the team. “Relax, Yecu. You’re not going anywhere, we’re just adding number three to our roster. A flyer this time. Besides, do you really think I’m going to get rid of my emergency food ration so easily?” Yecu wasn’t gonna be the main ingredient, but I was still determined to make that yellow crab curry someday. 

Evidently, I had managed to cook up stewed crab instead. My Krabby had been quietly simmering away while Baloo and I chilled out by catching some z’s. 

We collectively made our way towards my designated terminal. Even though he diligently followed behind me, given that he wasn’t blowing those happy little bubbles that he usually liked to, I could tell he was still a bit steamed. “C’mon, don’t be like that. You know I was just teasing. Tell you what, I’ll make it up to you.”

Snap, snap. He sharply clicked his pincers, which I took to mean he was asking; ‘How?’

Since we’re basically going for bird Pokémon, you get to veto any species that you think are liable to make you their next breakfast. Which, as far as I gleaned from the Pokédex, mostly rules out the Pelipper and Braviary lines. Considering I already had both the normal and water typings covered, no substantial loss - especially for the sake of peace of mind. 

Baloo continue to hibernate while Yecu marinated on my offer for a minute. When he gently caressed the spot where he had pinched me earlier, I knew I had been absolved of my wrongdoing. 

“Super.” I scooped the both of them up and perched each one on either of my shoulders. “Oof! You two are getting fat!” Both of them were still ages away from evolving, so if I wanted even a Vanilish’s chance in hell of manhandling them when they did, I’d have to kick up my nascent aura training up a notch. “Now pay attention you two, I‘mma just put in our search parameters here, and…. let’s take a look at contestant number one.”

The GTS portal was simultaneously better than I was hoping and worse than I was dreading. 

A veritable cavalcade of monstrous trainers miscalculated the worth of their trade offers. Case in point, I scrolled over someone offering their Pidgey. And what did they want in return, you might ask? Oh, nothing too difficult. They were happy to take any of the mascot starters or pseudo-legendries from Galar or Paldea off their trade partners’ hands. Pidgey wasn’t a part of their native ‘dex - so somehow in this trainer’s mind it bumped the Route 1 ‘mon up the rarity index enough to make it an equitable exchange. 

You didn’t need to work at the R&D department at Silph co. To figure out that didn’t quite add up. 

Tapu forbid if one of these loonies lucked out and got a shiny Pokémon. ‘Yes, of course I think my Sunkern is worth a legendary; it’s an entirely different colour from normal! What do you mean you can’t tell the difference?’

Mass outbreaks were a thing, breeders had their own secret techniques for boosting odds, which ultimately meant that shinies weren’t as valuable as they were once thought to be. 

Great for bragging rights or a testament to your luck. But little else use beyond that. 

Thankfully, the navigation system on these terminals made it easy and viable to filter out this cesspit. 

Also, this system was far less restrictive than would initially appear. While you could absolutely stick to the tried-and-true rigidity of asking for a specific Pokémon ‘A’ in exchange for specific Pokémon ‘B’. I, however, fiddled around with the platform settings enough that it looked more like a bounty board. 

“Now, this is what I’m talking about. Okay, okay, okay, we’ve got some plump looking poultry on offer. The first bird immediately stood out to me. “Swablu.” Imagine cloud watching on that thing when it becomes an Altaria. “Yikes! Nevermind.” I was pretty rudely woken up from that daydream when I saw the wish list of Pokémon that I would have to find to offer as a viable trade. Mt Silver required another seven badges for me to gain entry; and neither did I want to waste my life savings at the game corner. So I was going to have to set this dragon for dragon only trade aside 

“Diu.” 

“Find something interesting, Baloo? Huh, a Fletching. Not bad. I wonder what they’re willing to take for it. Any fire type with at least one stage of evolution.” Fairly sensible request that I’d be able to fulfill, my only issue stemmed from the fact that I’d have to evolve it all the way up to a Talonflame before it would be big enough to saddle up and soar the skies on. “Good safety choice - but let’s put it on the back burner for now.”

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. At least that’s how the saying goes. “Oh hello, now isn’t this interesting?” But for once, a little bit of indecision seems to have paid off. 

While I was still living in Alola, I’d see these everywhere. Considered them pests really. Right now, however, I couldn’t help but confess that I felt a pang of nostalgia at seeing one of these again. The average Pikipek was a tiny little woodpecker, the tip of its red plume usually tickling about one to one and a half foot max. The alpha variant boosted that anywhere from 2x to 3x the size. 

I’ll be able to ride this thing as soon as it involves the Trumbeak, which will take no time at all. And what did my prospective trading partner want in return? “Alpha for alpha. Will accept Kanto form of any Alolan regional variant.”

Not a small list by any measure. Including: Rattata, Raichu, Vulpix, Sandshrew, Geodude, Exeggutor, Marowak, Diglett, Meowth, and finally Grimer. 

Just had to catch the biggest possible one. Difficult to fulfill for most, but I had a secret weapon in my pocket that would easily help me hunt one down. 

“Time to brainstorm a nickname for our new Pikipek squad mate.”