(EDITED)
Somewhere, deep inside, the boy was excited. This moment had been shoved away for far too long. However, he was also far too old to hold the excitement of much younger beginners in the same position. He glanced around at the few trainers around him. There was a bit of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Most of them were so much younger than him, with a few exceptions here or there. His palms became slightly sweaty as he grew in his dis-ease. Jaxon was used to feeling out of place, but never quite in this way. His eyes glanced around for someone maybe more in his range here, more specifically someone who might be a little more like him in general. Nothing. Most those who had jumped on getting pokemon already were the adventurous and heroic types, the opposite of himself. A low sigh finally left his throat. If he remembered correctly, it was the tradition that kids started their journey around eleven. Certainly not being eleven, it was only natural he felt out of place. Although, in this world all things were unnatural.
In the months before the reservation officially open, he had studied up on practically everything he could get his hands on. From typing to the world's greatest pokemon masters, everything was crammed into his head. Well, as much as he could know from within the confines of the island. Knowing things usually made him feel much more comfortable. But, now, the sensation in his chest only became worse. Out of his element once more. Jaxon wasn't sure he had an element outside of his bedroom. That was the only place he felt truly at ease, ever. It was only the very books that had kept him there, the ones he had poured over, that lead him here today. He lived vicariously through the tales of Lance and many other of the great trainers. Each page, each pokemon, as inspiring as the one before. And that was why he stood here now. Even if it was an unpopular opinion in Oasis Cay, he held to the magnificent dreams of those who had mastered the art of battle. If it weren't for that, he would likely still be lounging on his bed with another old text resting between his fingers. That sounded incredible about now.
For a moment, he almost considered turning around and casually making his way back home. No one here would miss him, no one would even know he had left. Not a single soul, outside of those running the reservation, had spoken to him since his arrival. He cast a longing look back over his shoulder towards the door. It was too far. Only a handful of kids stood between him and his escape. Somewhere between trying to convince himself that was his sole reason for staying and mulling over the still buried excitement, Jaxon Mahoney found himself at the front. There was no turning back. It was his time. Everyone seemed to hold their breath at once and the oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the room. And then, the doors were open. Much like the days earlier, the more eager of the meager group rushed in, him not being among them. One of the few others shoved Jaxon in his haste. The red-haired boy stumbled forwards and his hands flew from the comfort of his worn jean pockets. He just barely stopped himself from falling.
When Jaxon regained his balance and looked around the reservation, his eyes widened in wonder. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. All around flitted different species of pokemon, almost all he recognized. Other returning trainers darted around in search of another perfect partner for their team while he just casually strolled on, taking in the beauty of it all. This carried on until he felt himself stumble forward. His knees hit the ground awkwardly, jarring him before his hands hit the ground. Shit. That hurt a bit. As the boy went to straighten up and dusted off his jeans, he began to realize he had ended up on dry, cracked earth. This portion held its own unique wonder, even if much duller than the rest. A soft protest caused him to whip around after fully straightening up. Behind him was a little Cyndaquil. Based on its position on the ground, unhappily flattened on its rump, he quickly determined that this was what he had tripped over.
As he reached out to scoop up the little guy, he found himself thankful that this was one of the fire types that did not have flames constantly protruding from its body. When he pulled the Cyndaquil up, cradling it between his arms, the pokemon seemed to bury into his chest. This effectively caused a low chuckle from the boy, "Well, I'm sorry I didn't see you there little guy, but you certainly seem okay now." It was unreal for a moment that he was holding one of the creatures he had read about so many times. But the awe of the moment was buried under his immediate attachment to the little fire-mouse that was nestled in his arms. And it seemed pretty contented with him too.
(Will add Mayce's introduction after/if someone else posts. Or I will close the topic and make it a solo post. Assuming I did this right.)
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