It was a wonder that, considering how many times on a daily basis Brock was defeated, the children still stared at the Boulder Badge that now adorned the young trainer's jacket. Thinking about it, he realized that putting the badges - arguably the most important items in a trainer's life - on one piece of clothing was rather foolish. There were a million ways to lose them, such as forgetting to unpin the badges on laundry day. For a moment the young trainer considered pinning the Boulder Badge to cubone's fur and store it inside a pokeball, but decided against that plan as well.<br/>It was not like he could not get a new Boulder Badge whenever he felt like it. Brock was a terrible gym leader.<br/><br/>The fight with Brock had been slightly more exhausting than it should have been. The boy had only been a trainer for three days, as well as being only of the tender age of ten, but he had a ground type pokemon and Brock was notorious for using strictly rock. Really, the whole concept of gym leaders was flawed if you knew they would stick to a specific type. The boy thought it was perfectly justifiable for, say, a grass trainer to keep one or two water pokemon around, both to ward off the inevitable fire type the opponent would use, but also to water the plants. The boy extended his metaphor and thought any well-kept lawn needed a sprinkler system. And maybe a scare-crow to ward off birds and pesticides to prevent weedle infestations. If the boy ever became a gym leader, which he had no intention of becoming, he would make sure to focus on an ecosystem rather than a single element. Or just cheat and train dragons.<br/><br/>A drop of drool trickled down the boy's chin, and the surrounding children, who admired his Boulder Badge, made noises of disgust. Why were they looking at him? He had been a trainer for three days and already defeated Brock, but that was not even an impressive advancement speed. He had heard of someone who beat Brock with a caterpie he found in the morning and then spent two and a half hour evolving into butterfree. Brock had been a gym leader for years, and the only reason the boy could imagine as to why he was still using the same two minor level rock pokemon was the he had not managed enough wins throughout his career as a gym leader to make his geodude even he least bit stronger.<br/><br/>The boy with the Boulder Badge was slumped against the wall of the gym, looking anything but cool, as his arms hung limply and his head tilted back against the wall to supper the majority of his weight. His tongue was sticking out and a tiny puddle of drool was beginning to form on his shirt.<br/>"Eeew" exclaimed a little girl, hugging a clefairy doll, but she did not leave. Why was he so fascinating? Her doll could probably defeat Brock.<br/>"You're dumb," another boy next to the little girl exclaimed. He wore shorts and a backwards cap. He was holding a pokeball for some reason.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">That doesn't sound right.</span><br/>"Is he hurt?" the little girl with the doll asked, and she sounded a little scared.<br/>"No, he is odd."<br/><span style="font-style: italic">Maybe I am.</span><br/><br/>The boy in the shorts stepped forward and issued a challenge, pointing the pokeball towards Odd. If he did not have a Boulder Badge of his own then why in the world would he be worth fighting? His pokeball was probably empty. Odd tilted his head slightly to the side and looked at the challenger without fixating. A disgruntled snore came from his back and Odd took a slow step forward to avoid further crushing the abra on his back. Perhaps, it dawned on him, the kids were really looking at the abra and not the Boulder Badge. Abra resumed its rhythm of steady snoring, and Odd snapped out of his zombie-mode. He straightened his back and withdrew his tongue, and gazed lackadaisically at the challenger. His cubone was still hurt from the fight with Onyx, and it would not be responsible to fight just yet.<br/><br/>Abra gave a sudden kick with his left foot, and Odd was gone.<br/><br/>Odd appeared a the campfire without much flash. One instant he was just there, giving the trainer with the cigarette the same look as he had given the boy in the shorts. Teleportation was an instantaneous process, but for some reason Odd always felt as if he had been spinning around rapidly. His bored look changed and he looked about his new surroundings, scrutinizing Isaac in particular, and paying only a token interest in the charmander.<br/>His mind suddenly raced as he tried to think of ways to greet the other trainer, who appeared worth talking to, since at least he was decent enough to have a Boulder Badge.  When the silence became uncomfortable Odd spoke:<br/>"Easy fight?"<br/><br/>Beating Brock with a charmander would not have been an easy fight, regardless of Brock's inherent lack of talent. It dawned on Odd that maybe Brock did have stronger pokemon than everyone gave him credit for, but due to the constant inflow of challengers they never got to rest. Maybe, Odd hoped, he had really defeated a geodude of nigh-mythical power, but which was simply exhausted and beaten from years of constant battle.<br/><br/>"Did that thing win for you?" Odd pointed at the charmander. Abra continued snoring softly from the lime-coloured harness. Odd made a mental note to himself to practise small-talk. "Does it know metal claw?"