Disclaimer: Do I LOOK like I own Pokemon?

Want to challenge yourself? Prove yourself as a trainer? Then this challenge is for you! The Pokémon League has spent the past few months carefully selecting a specialized group of trainers just for this unique challenge that'll test your worth as a trainer. These eight trainers have been stationed all over the regions, and have been authorized to hand out special badges just for those participating in this challenge - should you be able to beat them.

The challenge is this: Beginning with a basic Pokémon that you are given by the Pokémon League, you have six months to collect each of the eight badges. At the end of the six months, the Mystery Cup Tournament information will be available for both you and the public. If you have all eight badges, you can enter the tournament and compete for a trophy, money, and a special mystery prize!

There are, of course, some requirements.

Due to the intense difficulty of this challenge, only trainers of sixteen years of age and older may sign up. Also, you may never once use any Pokémon you have previously trained. Anybody cheating will be immediately disqualified.

If you're interested, go to your local Pokémon Center to get the paperwork and sign up!

Let the games begin!

Chapter One

"Excuse me?"

Emily started, nearly dropped her armload of potions, and turned her head briefly to see a young trainer, probably about twelve or so, with an inquisitive Zigzagoon at his heels. "One moment please," she muttered, turning back to her job of carefully shelving the potions in a semi-organized manner. The boy bounced on his heels behind her, waiting impatiently for her to finish. Something pressed itself up against the back of her calf; she jerked away her foot and whirled around, a potion clenched in her hand. "Can I help you?" she wanted to know, shoving the potion up behind her haphazardly onto the shelf with a short, glare for the Zigzagoon who had pressed its nose up against her. It caught her gaze, made a small noise of apology, and hid behind its trainer.

The trainer gulped, but was clearly determined to ask his question, despite her apparent foul mood. "C-can you tell me where the Pokémon food is?"

With a sigh, Emily softened her eyes marginally and motioned for the boy to follow her. She didn't want to terrify the kid just because he trained Pokémon and had caught her on a bad day. He followed her nervously to the end of the aisle and she pointed to the left. "Two aisles down." She glanced down at the Zigzagoon. The thing poked its head out from behind its trainer's legs and stared back up at her defiantly. "Is it for that?"

The boy stared at her for a moment. "It's for Ziggy, yeah. I don't have any others yet."

Emily nodded. "Make sure you get some berries too," she advised. The boy's eyes grew wide, obviously surprised that she knew anything about it let alone was willing to give him advice after her cold approach earlier. "They like the color and the nutrients are good for them."

He nodded, jiggling up and down on his toes. "Okay! Thank you!" The trainer tore off towards the food aisle, prompting Emily to shout: "Hey! No running!" after him and his Pokémon before rolling her eyes and returning to the potion shelf to fix the messy placement of the goods. At least her boss hadn't seen the way she'd treated the youngster. It would have earned her a dressing-down that she didn't think she would have been able to handle, not after the way the day had gone. Her alarm hadn't gone off so she was forced to rush to her morning classes without breakfast, classes themselves had sucked because the teachers had decided that utilizing logic and math and important things in life weren't as good as simulating Pokémon battles, and then once she'd gotten to her part-time job at the local Mart, she'd been booted off of the cash registers and onto shelving duty. Yuck.

When four o'clock rolled around, Emily practically raced out of the Mart to get home, expertly dodging any employees who might want her to stay later. Once outside, she slowed down and took the rest of the walk home at a leisurely pace.

Verdanturf was a beautiful town. It wasn't big enough to be considered a city, but it wasn't a tiny little country village either. The relaxing scent of flowers wafted about in the air, and the weather was mild, no matter the season. The genial warmth of spring currently engulfed the nature-emphasized town, making long sleeves unnecessary, but shorts unwise. A slight humidity hung about despite the pleasant breeze, and because of this, Emily had pulled her lengthy blonde hair back into a ponytail to keep it from both sticking to her neck and blowing into her face. It wasn't long before she reached home, and, giving a slight wave to the elderly neighbors, she let herself in and promptly tossed herself on the couch.

"Hey. Kid."

"Sorry, she's not available," Emily mumbled into the couch cushion. "Please leave a message after the beep."

"Well, when she gets back, tell her that she shouldn't be wearing shoes on the couch," her uncle told her. Emily wiggled the offending feet that dangled over the edge of the arm of the couch. "And go get the mail."

A set of keys were tossed onto her back. With an exaggerated sigh, Emily rolled over and sat up, leaning down to pick up the keys. "Lazy," she accused him.

Fargo smiled. "Guilty as charged."

She made a face at her good-humored uncle and shuffled out the door, wandering down to the mailbox. Junk, junk, junk, a new movie for her mother, more junk, bills… Wait. Emily frowned at the pile of mail and picked up an envelope addressed to her. The label declared that its source was – the Pokémon League? "What the…" she murmured, trailing off as she flipped the envelope over, noting the unusual bulge present near the bottom. Emily set the rest of the mail down in the mailbox and used her fingers to pick open the envelope. She picked out the letter and scanned it.

Moments later Emily slammed open the door, dropped the rest of the mail on the coffee table, and shoved the letter into her uncle's face, standing directly in front of the TV as he sat on the couch. "What's this?" she demanded. He blinked, bushy eyebrows traveling up his forehead.

"You're blocking the TV," he said mildly.

"Fargo…" Emily growled, earning her a reproving look. She refused to take the hint and insistently pushed it into his hands. "Read it. Go on, read it."

She slammed the envelope down onto the coffee table and stomped over to sit on the other end of the couch as her uncle unfolded the paper that had been unceremoniously shoved into his hands. A small red and white ball rolled out from the envelope and rested atop the scattered mail, a splash of very obvious color and, as far as Emily was concerned, a very big problem.

Fargo cleared his throat and started to read. "'Congratulations! You've been accepted as part of the ultimate challenge! Your starter Pokémon has been included in this envelope. You're welcome to begin your adventure as soon as you receive this letter. The end date is October 14, so be sure to have all eight badges by then in order to be eligible to enter the Mystery Cup tournament. May the best trainer win!'" Fargo folded up the paper and held it back out to Emily. "Sounds like fun."

"No!" Emily snapped. "It doesn't!"

"And why not?" her uncle wanted to know. "An adventure with Pokémon, a tournament… It sounds like a lot of fun to me."

"Then you go." Emily crossed her arms and huffed as she sunk back into the couch. "I'm not interested. I didn't even sign up."

"Nope. I did."

Emily stared at him in horror. "You did what?"

"I signed you up," he repeated, giving his niece a look. Emily opened her mouth to protest, but Fargo barreled on before she could even make a sound. "Emily. It's time you went out and did more with your life than just a small part-time job in the Mart."

"You know I don't like Pokémon," Emily protested.

"You used to," Fargo countered. The television announcer declared the upcoming battle between Champion Alder and James Whitefield; Emily picked up the remote and muted it, glaring at her uncle.

"People change."

"Sure they do," her uncle replied with a shrug. "I've changed, you've changed, and your mother's changed. About the only one of us who hasn't is your brother." He glanced at the TV screen. "Still the same hyperactive goofball he's always been. But –" he looked back at Emily – "people don't always change for the better, Emily."

She shook her head. "No way."

"Just think about it." Her uncle rose from his seat and withdrew a PokéNav from his jacket pocket and set it down on the coffee table before taking the remote and flicking the sound back on the TV. Immediately the sounds of battle filled the living room as the young trainer shouted orders to his Simisage. "I won't make you do this, Emily," he continued, "but I think you should go."

With that, he left. Emily groaned and grabbed a pillow, stuck her face in it, and shook her head. After a moment, she tossed the pillow aside and propped her chin up in her hands, staring at the battle on the television. James, the challenger, lost his Simisage to a particularly well-timed maneuver by Alder's Bouffalant. She watched the battle in silence, waiting until it was over and the challenger had lost before clicking off the TV.

"Stupid uncle," she muttered, picking up the PokéNav and turning it in her hands. A sticky note covered the screen. Her uncle's droopy scrawl decorated the bright yellow paper, leaving her the note 'Just in case.'

Emily put the PokéNav down and leaned back into the couch. True, she remembered once wanting to go off on a grand adventure with Pokémon and becoming one of the greatest Pokémon trainers ever, but that had been a very long time ago. Now she was seventeen, had a job (even if it was only part-time and it did really suck), and – well, she'd grown out of such stupid childhood fantasies. She didn't like Pokémon, and she certainly had no desire to go travel and fight with them. So this entire plan of her uncle's? Completely ridiculous.

Obviously.

Her eyes flickered across the coffee table and against her will, one of her hands snaked out and picked up the small red and white Pokeball lying innocently on the table.

Emily looked down at it thoughtfully as she rolled the small capture device in the palm of her hand.

A/N: Yes, another tournament story! And yes, I am accepting OCs. Please just use the form below to submit them.

Name:

Gender:

Age: (Must be sixteen or older)

Hometown:(Anywhere's fine.)

Appearance: (At least one paragraph. This needs to be fairly descriptive.)

Personality: (I need at least two paragraphs. This is VERY important. I can't pin down your character and write about them if I don't have their personality.)

Family: (Simple. Their family members.)

History: (This molds the character. So what happened to them? Were they a trainer? A coordinator? Did they stay at home? Please note that they must have trained at least ONE Pokemon before the competition begins.)

Pokemon: (The first six Pokemon in this list will be the ones your character has for the competition. Please place 'starter' in parenthesis next to your starter Pokemon. After the first six Pokemon, please put whatever Pokemon your character had and is leaving at home. You MUST have at LEAST one.)

Achievements: (What did your character achieve in their time as a trainer? How many badges/ribbons do they have? Did they win any special tournaments? Please note that you may not hold the title of 'Champion' anywhere.

Miscellaneous: (Anything that I missed. Do they have a lucky penny? Favorite color? Maybe they're a vegetarian.)

Much thanks goes to the lovely Kyuuketsuki Fang for beta-ing this story.