The AviaChar Academy has produced a multitude of winners, including current PokéOlympic champion, Aaliyah Roboteau, and her Charizard, Aariana. Image Credit: peerimagesca
In my Charizard Guide page, I spoke about the Charizard racing circuits and how entering your Charizard into these is a great way to get rid of some of that pent-up energy. I thought I would dedicate some time to tell you about some of these races and the services available.
Before I begin, let me give you a little bit more detail about the Charizard stage of the Charmander-Charmeleon-Charizard lifecycle. As you know, wild Charizard typically have two modes: sleeping and flying. There is actually a deeper, biological reason for this. As soon as they evolve from Charmeleon, Charizard go through a number of changes (not just its wings!). For one, they get a sudden urge to want to find a mate. Pokémon can breed at any stage of their cycle, so it is unknown why the Charizard stage warrants this kind of reaction, but it does cause them a few problems.
Firstly, Charizard are rare, so finding a mate will mean a lot of searching. However, during its Charmander and Charmeleon stages, the Charizard would have formed close ties with its pack. This causes huge stress in early Charizard life, where it has many internal battles: does it stay with its family, or does it leave to seek out love and a life of its own? Nature decides to, somewhat cruelly, enforce its view of this decision by making it practically impossible for Charizard to stay in one place. Firstly, its metabolism goes into hyperdrive and it can no longer rely on the occasional hunt for food. Biologists believe this is designed to spur them to leave the nest and find a mate. Secondly, females’ eyes start to become sensitive to light and they lose fat ratio, so it is harder for them to stay warm (urging them to seek out volcanic caves). In the meanwhile, males begin to develop a deficiency for ‘kaolin-group mineral’. This mineral is a naturally occurring substance that the Charmander-Charmeleon stages produce to help protect against skin infections. A deficiency can be quite brutal for male Charizard, as any abrasions from fights have a greater chance of leading to infection. Kaolin-group mineral is found in volcanic rock, so both males and females are drawn to volcanic caves!
So, you may be wondering what this has to do with racing. Well, with dietary supplements and Pokémedicines, we can greatly reduce many of those natural changes to make life a little easier for your Charizard. However, despite these interventions, your Charizard will still be very restless and have natural instincts to fly. You, therefore, will likely need an outlet. What better than some healthy competition?
History of Charizard Racing
The first recorded Charizard race was part of the PokéOlympics in Ancient Greece, and both saddle-mounted and bareback races were popular in the Roman Empire. The precise beginnings of organized racing is unknown, but there is some evidence that early civilisations such as the Clovis people (Ancient peoples of North America), the Yayoi-era peoples of Ancient Japan, and the ancestors of the Shailendra dynasty in Java, Indonesia, had close bonds with Charizard due to the higher number of volcanoes in the region, and may have conducted Charizard racing.
Charizard Racing Today
Charizard racing is a very common sport in Charizard circles and these races are often highly popular parts of PokéSport Events and—of course—the PokéOlympics. They come in many forms but most commonly comprise single races (without a rider), saddle-mounted (with a rider), or relay races, where Charizard transports a rider for the majority of the race but the last leg is performed by the rider, who uses a glider to descend to the finishing line (usually while the Charizard performs some sort of creative element).
Charizard Flight Schools
Due to the popularity of Charizard racing, many schools have been founded worldwide to help develop the skills of both Charizard and rider. One of the most prestigious, The AviaChar Academy, is based in Italy and trains 10 students a year. Places are fiercely fought for, as this academy has produced a multitude of winners, including the current PokéOlympic champion: Belizean rider, Aaliyah Roboteau and her Charizard, Aariana. Many famous Charizard riders open their own gyms, similar to the Pokémon gyms found in traditional Pokémon battling, and Charizard trainers may challenge them to a race.
Do you love Pokémon? Well now you can dress like them too! This set of posts are designed to give you some inspirations so you can pull together some outfits based on your favourite Pokémon. The styles are all simple, so you can achieve the look no matter what your budget.
For Charmander, we have an orange, strappy dress with a bit of a flare hem and matched with a thin belt at the waist. The dress is then layered with a long, brown leather (or faux leather) jacket. Wear with white point-toe heels.
For Charmeleon, manifest his wilder side by choosing red leather (or faux leather) trousers with a black, studded, leather jacket, a black crop top and some white pumps/converse.
Finally, we have taken inspiration from Charizard’s blue wings to choose a puffy-sleeved blue crop top, worn with loose-fit beige trousers and white pumps/converse.
Found the perfect Charmander, Charmeleon or Charizard inspired items? Share them in the comments! Happy hunting.
Then, suddenly, the mountain shakes. At the same time, a deep roar echoes into the cave.Image credit: David Stehlik
Jolteon rises as if ready to pounce, hackles pointed skyward. She feels it too.
I have only a few apricorns left. My quest ends here. If I cannot capture this beast, I will perish, here in the wilds. I owe it to my tribe and to my husband. And to my majuu.
I remain still as it flies overhead. The forest masks our presence. The monster’s flame is said to burn brighter than the heat if all the forges in the land. If it finds the two of us before we are ready, our exile will end with our lives.
Jolteon relaxes and shakes herself, as if trying to maintain some sort of dignity. The times like this when the mask slips and I see through the gaps between her proud majuu never fail to make me smile.
My legs ache as we ascend the mountain. It seems to take a lot for a majuu to tire, but my human appendages can’t quite cope with as much exercise as they used to. The trees thin out as we reach an outcrop that backs onto a cave. This must be its home.
I hear the high-pitched voices of its offspring. Entering the cave, I see there are seven of them, in one nest! Unbelievable luck.
Jolteon quickly dispatches young ones and I capture them in the apricorns. No going back now, the big one will have my scent. Attacking such weak creatures is necessary, however it feels. The adults wreak only havoc; but we will fight fire with fire. Or, with electricity, at first. Jolteon eats her candies from my hand, and the two of us sit down, the cave coolly shading.
Then, suddenly, the mountain shakes. At the same time, a deep roar echoes into the cave. Jolteon stands and I see the static electricity run down her back. I calm her, scratching the back of her neck. A large stalactite falls nearby. As I feel a rumble. It’s landed.
Weaken it with rock first, then send in my primary, that was the plan. I reach to my belt and open up the first attacker.
‘Iiiiwaaak’ cries the Onix.
I point, and it tunnels itself into the mountain, preparing to come out underneath the creature. The cave starts to collapse, as I feel it jump away. I run. Jolteon follows me to the outcrop, and that’s when we see it for the first time. The monster that terrorised my tribe. Hanging in the air, right in front of me is the Charizard. Red fire tips its tail, just like the eyewitness accounts. I see it inhale, ready to attack again, teeth glinting in the fire that builds in its belly. A roar, and another jet of flame blasts the entrance of the cave. I jump out of the way.
‘Onix, now!’ I shout.
There’s a rumble underneath me as the flames clear, and the Onix shoots out, pointed straight at the Charizard. It slams into the monster, which jolts, briefly unstable in the air. One of the greatest mysteries to me is why two majuu will never attack just one, but now I have to let Onix deal as much damage as possible, hopefully grounding the monster before Jolteon comes in and finishes the job.
Charizard slashes at Onix with its wings, but Onix stands in the air, unmoving, absorbing the full force. Charizard roars at this, and suddenly flies high into the sky. Onix fires a series of rock pellets after it. Some of them hit, damaging the Charizard even more, but soon it is too far away. The world around turns silent; I can’t even hear myself. I realise that, along with the whole world around me, I am holding my breath. What I’m waiting for I don’t know, until one of the clouds begins to glow orange. Then, so far away that it seems to be moving slowly, I see the Charizard. Surrounded by white-hot fire, tail now a deep red, it dives towards my Onix. I fumble with apricorns, trying to bring it in, but I’m too late. By the time we realise just how quickly it’s moving, the Charizard crashes into the Onix, and Onix breaks apart in the air.
I scream. At the same time, I feel something else next to me. Lightning crackles on Jolteons haunches as it jumps into the sky it brings dirt from the ground with it and whips it into the Charizard’s eye. Charizard panics and breathes another jet of fire, wasting its attack as Jolteon easily dodges, landing on the monster’s back – a silhouette backed by the midday sun. She raises herself to full height on all four legs. A thunderbolt crashes down from the sky and Jolteon’s proximity ensures accuracy in spite of the bright sun.
I can see the damage dealt as Charizard bucks and careens in the sky. Then, it begins to fall. It’s been paralysed by the lightning! It tries to more fire at Jolteon as it falls, but she simply jumps off and lands on the outcrop as the creature continues its descent into the forest below. There’s a crash, and Jolteon and I descend the mountain before it recovers. There is no sign of Onix.
*
I’ve never actually seen a majuu die in a fight before. I knew it could theoretically happen, but usually they let each other go unconscious and live to fight another day. There was a sense of loss for me, something missing from my heart, but I could feel Jolteon’s emotions stronger than mine. In fact, I could see them. She still crackled with energy, hackles raised in spite of her victory over the monster. I try to comfort her with a scratch, but a static shock jolts my hand and I pull away. She seemed completely unaware that I had tried, though she keeps pace with me as we re-enter the forest.
It doesn’t take us long to find the carnage. There is a clearing that definitely wasn’t there before, and the few trees that haven’t been burned to ash are cracked and broken. We follow the trail of broken forest and soon see the smoke of the burning forest. The Charizard lives. I can feel Jolteon wanting to bolt ahead, but I insist that we keep moving slowly, off to the side of the trail. Charizard is angry and hurt, and evidently trapped, unable to fly. A dangerous combination.
The heat grows more intense as I estimate that we’re still about half a mile from the Charizard destroying its way through the landscape. The noise of trees crackling with flame grows – the fires must be less hot as they’re not instantly incinerating them anymore. I cover my mouth as we get closer to the epicentre. Then, I see it. The Charizard, lying on the ground on its belly. It coughs and belches more flames, these a cooler orange. It lifts its head slightly as I enter its clearing, and then drops it again. Jolteon takes a stance as if ready to pounce, then relaxes and approaches the fallen titan.
I approach its head. Lying in front of me like this, I realise how small it actually is, to hold this much power. It flicks its tongue out at me, making me jump as several of my apricorns fall out. I realise they’re the ones containing the young charmanders. Charizard sniffs the air and its eyes fixate on me. I can’t read its expression, but Jolteon pushes the apricorns closer and lets Charizard nuzzle them. I reach to one of my empties to capture this one along with them, but Jolteon looks at me and shakes her head. I understand now. A creature that has lived free for this long shouldn’t be taken into captivity unless it chooses to.
The flame on Charizard’s tail burns brightly all of a sudden, then disappears. Jolteon sits next to me. Now, she lets me stroke her fur. We sit for what could be a few minutes or an hour before I stand up.
The terms of my exile were to bring back the Charizard, but I couldn’t do that if it was dead. The young Charmanders would be more than enough to make up for this, I was sure, but terms were terms. Perhaps it would be best if I didn’t go back. My family were safe from the Charizard, and Charizard was safe from, well, anything now. I look at Jolteon, who shrugs. She knows me so well. I pick up the Charmanders and store them on my belt. They are my responsibility now. And I’m excited to take them on my next adventure, whatever it might be.
Besides sport, other recreation Charizard enjoys includes spending time with friends and family, watching TV, and any competitivity generally. Image Credit: Thyfany Ron
There can be nothing more rewarding and frustrating than owning a Charizard. They can take you to new heights (quite literally, with Charizard riding classes), but they can sure bring you to your knees, too.
Especially if you have bred your Charizard from a Charmander, you should have a good understanding by now that your Charizard is very independent in nature. They can be very headstrong, and you will have a hard time convincing them to change their mind. However, they are fiercely loyal to those who understand their integrity and treat them with respect.
Where to find one
Charizard have two loves in life: sleeping and flying. While I very much advise against waking a Charizard from its slumber—both due to the rage you will be confronted with, and the rather volcanic location in which this Pokémon makes its bed—catching one in flight won’t exactly be an easy option either. They may not look it from their bulky frame, but they are fast. The top speed was recorded by a Charizard owned by Sir Mark Tauras, which clocked in at astonishing 3,100 miles per hour. True, this took a lot of dedicated training, but it showcases the capabilities of these creatures. The last thing you want is your pursuit of a Charizard turning into it pursuing you!
If you are intent on capturing from the wild, I can’t stress enough how important respect and honour is in your dealings. I have seen some quite horrific-looking nets and other traps being used to help ease large-Pokémon captures, but contraptions like these are not only dangerous but will go no way towards forming a friendship and genuine connection with your new Pokémon partner.
Instead, we may be best to look to some of the successful catches in history for inspiration. For example, I’d recommend the book ‘The Memoire of James, S. Thompson’, which covers how this famous Pokémon battler and traveller located, scoped out, and used food bait to lure the Charizard from hiding in order to formally challenge him to a duel. Or, you could learn about Terri Mendella, who was an entrepreneur of Pokémon resorts who befriended her Charizard by offering it free leisure time at the hot baths.
I would recommend that the safest and most solid way of obtaining a Charizard is to raise it from a Charmander. Not only does this avoid the long search and dangerous perils of locating a wild Charizard, but the working relationship will be stronger.
Raising for battle
Charizard are powerhouses, with the firepower to burn down entire streets if they get out of hand. Safe to say you will need some tough and fire-resistant equipment.
By the time it reaches Charizard stage, this Pokémon is already a highly skilled fighter, so I’d be surprised if you still need to train base offensive/defensive. More foe-specific training is likely to be on the agenda. However, there is still likely to be some new environment-based weaknesses cropping up, compared with Charmeleon. For example, being able to fly now removes the weakness to ground types, but lighting is now an issue. Remember to make good use of any stormy weather when training to practice your electricity tolerance. I know one or two Charizard trainers that have installed lightening rods in their training yards for just this.
Outside of the yard, keep an eye on Charizard’s weight. They can become a touch lazy when not in battle, but this can hurt their game in the long run. Try to inspire your Pokémon with competition. There are several Charizard racing circuits you could get involved with, as well as other sports, ranging from hot-spring volleyball (great for getting Charizard comfortable in the water) and clay Pidgey shooting (great to keep those directional skills sharp).
Keeping Charizard happy and healthy
I’ve mentioned getting your Charizard involved with competitive sports already, but, it is worth repeating! Charizard tends to have a lot of pent-up energy and little motivation to do anything about it. This can lead to destructive habits. I visited the National Pokémon Rehabilitation Center in San José recently, which specialises in large Pokémon, and I saw cases ranging from street fighting to cow and Miltank theft, and even full-blown arson. Of course, a test Charizard won’t make for a good housemate either.
Besides sport, other recreation Charizard enjoys includes spending time with friends and family, watching TV, and any competitivity generally. I knew an elderly Charizard in New York that was practically unbeatable at Chess. Another favourite is spa days. Actually, there can be amazing training and stat benefits from spas: mud baths for rock defence, hot tubs and saunas for water defence, pools for swimming strength (find the ones with tidal settings for a surprise challenge).
Healthwise, be careful with Charizard’s teeth—especially if you heavily rely on historic Charmeleon moves like Fire Fang and Dragon Breath. While they are natural flame retardant, they can get brittle with age and are prone to cracks. You can get some great dental plans for large Pokémon that save you a lot of headache further down the line.
It is actually nigh impossible to douse a Charizard’s tail with water, so you don’t really have that worry anymore. However, best to keep up your tail health routines from the Charmander/Charmeleon days.
Overall
Overall, Charizard is an independent spirit that needs a respectful and understanding owner. You’ll need all your wit and enthusiasm to encourage them to keep active and battle-fit, but, in return, you will get a loyal and trusty companion who will adore beating you over and over at board games. They may not be for the feint of heart, but they sure capture the heart.
Straight ahead, the fires were raging at the treeline. There was a crack as one of the firs gave way and collapsed somewhere out of sight. Image Credit: Luka Ishkhneli
A hand fell on my shoulder. It shook me.
“Marie, get up.”
I lifted my head. My lips were dry, my neck stiff. Susan was over me, her eyes wide.
“What time is it?”
“Marie, they’re back.”
I threw the covers off and swung my legs over the side of the bed. A flannel shirt was flung over the back of the chair, dark crimson in the moonlight. I manoeuvred into it and moved to pick up the discarded jeans on the floor. As I zipped the fly and buckled the belt, I gestured to the wardrobe.
“Grab my gun, honey.”
Susan jumped out of bed and flung the wardrobe open.
“Which one?”
“The big one.”
*
Mount Molteau wasn’t exactly hospitable. You couldn’t fault the views. And the air was the freshest in the region. But the climate left something to be desired. On the best days it was muggy and warm, on the worst it was like living in a sauna with the heat set to maximum. You couldn’t go ten paces in either direction without sweating through your shirt – but the sheep loved it. And happy sheep are more important to sheep farmers than a few soggy shirts.
Our farmhouse sat on a plateau, about halfway up Molteau, surrounded on three sides by tall firs and an abrupt drop on the fourth. It was in the trees that the fires had started. Only small at first but growing every few weeks and soon destroying whole clusters. Then the sheep had started disappearing. And only pieces of them were ever seen again. Bits of wool would be found by the treeline, unidentified limbs a bit further in. Susan decided that there had to be more than one of them doing it, as the sheep disappeared from all over the farm and the fires spread in multiple places at once. But what they were was still a mystery. In those first months, I’d traipsed all over trying to find them or their den. But to no avail.
“Next time they come,” I had said to Susan a few nights earlier, “I’m going out. If you hear them, wake me.”
She wasn’t happy, but she agreed. We had to catch them in the act. So, I found myself at the crack of dawn, gun in hand and kissing Susan goodbye.
“Bolt the door,” I said.
*
The heat felt like a slap in the face as I stepped onto the porch. It was always hot on the plateau, but now, in the middle of this inferno, it was scorching. Sweat was trickling from my pores before I had the door closed behind me. I heard the bolt clunk into place. Straight ahead, the fires were raging at the treeline. There was a crack as one of the firs gave way and collapsed somewhere out of sight. In the darkness, a flock of Noctowls hooted as they fled the blaze. Elsewhere, towards the back of the cabin, there was the bleat of sheep. I gripped the gun tighter – an ancient double-barrelled monstrosity – and walked down the small steps from the porch onto the path. The drop was on my left, somewhere off in the darkness. At the back of my mind, I had an image of our little farm as seen from the other side of Kalos. They were probably all sound asleep down there. If any of them looked out of their bedroom window, perhaps on a midnight walk to get a glass of MooMoo milk, they’d see a small flicker on the side of a great grey tooth, rising from the ground. Those two are up late again, they’d think, and burning wood at this hour!
I approached the first few trees, which had nearly burnt down completely. All that was left were blackened stumps, thrust deep into the soil. The crackle of the flames felt close to deafening. I could feel sweat pouring down my back now. The gun barrel felt heated to the touch and was growing warmer each second.
Something moved beyond the burnt-down trees. I fired. The stump disintegrated. Splinters spun off in all directions. The sound was muted against the sizzling flames, but my ears still rang. The shape appeared again. I span, tracking it in the worn-down sights atop the barrel. I held off and lowered the gun. I wasn’t going to miss again, I thought, as I navigated into the trees, taking a wide berth around the worst of the flames. The shape darted past again, then another, and then a third, all around a metre tall. My careful stride became a run as I chased them further into the trees, away from the fire. It grew dark as I lost sight of the creatures. I slowed.
Something shifted beneath my feet. With a grunt, I threw myself backwards, away from the now widening hole in the earth. But it was too late. I caught site of a spreading maw, opening underfoot. Losing my grip on the gun, I fell into the pit. I smelt wet earth and guano before I blacked out.
*
The stench of charred bark and leaves woke me. Looking up, I could see a circle of orange light a half dozen metres above. Fragments of wood lay in the soil around me. I’d fallen through into the old well, straight through the cover that the previous owners had presumably put in place. I picked up one of the pieces of debris that was half-buried beside me. The wood was rotten and there were claw marks on it. Something had been coming and going, using the well as its entrance and exit.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the flames above were throwing a flickering glow down the shaft, I realised that part of the interior wall was missing. Something had clawed out a small tunnel. The smell of ancient animal excrement wafted out. It was barely big enough for a Mewtwo, never mind a person. Something glowed, perhaps ten metres into the tunnel. Shadows flickered. A cavern. But it was a tight squeeze. I considered my options. Stay there and wait for Susan to find me in the morning – assuming I didn’t choke on the smoke first – or squeeze into the tunnel.
I thought of Susan finding me the next day, dead from smoke inhalation at the bottom of a well. Or she’d find me alive and I’d never hear the end of it. I didn’t know which was worse.
I pulled my heavy boots off and wriggled my belt out from the loops. Looking at the gun, I felt a pang of sadness at having to leave the heirloom behind. But I wasn’t willing to chance anything getting caught. The thought of getting trapped in the tunnel, unable to move forwards or shimmy back… I pushed it out of my mind and squirmed into the opening on the wall. Once my head was fully in, I noticed how much more pungent it was in there. Creatures had lived down there for a while. Through the stench of living things, the scent of cooking meat wafted up from the chamber at the other end. My shoulders were in the tunnel now, scraping along the muddy walls, rocks and stones ripping my shirt. I had my hands in front of me, grasping the walls, wearing my nails down to the quick. My hips and thighs next, squeezing into the tunnel and filling the space, blocking out the last dregs of light from the well opening.
My hands dug into the dirt and clay and I pulled my body forward to the halfway point. I buried my fingers in and prepared to drag myself again. My arms burned with the effort, but I didn’t move. I kicked with my feet as best as I could, burying my toes into the dirt. But the ground had grown slick and soggy, and I couldn’t find purchase. I began trying to push myself backwards, to no avail. I tried spinning but the space was too thin. The breath caught in my throat. I tried to calm myself. My arms scrabbled, punching against the walls. I couldn’t breathe.
But then, a hand on my foot. Then one on the other. Tiny leathery paws. They pushed and I began to move. Another set pushed my legs. The exit approached, nearer and nearer. I fell out of the tunnel and into the chamber at the other end. I scrambled away from the opening and put my back to the wall, looking at the creatures that had come to my aid. Four eyes looked back at me, set back from two scaly snouts and two sets of sharp teeth. Behind them, two small flames bobbed up and down. The two Charmeleons poked their heads from the hole.
“Hey,” I moved forward. The Charmeleons edged back into the darkness of the tunnel.
“Have you guys been causing all this damage?”
They whined softly. I examined the small chamber I was in. It was no more than five meters in any direction. I could feel a breeze coming through it. In one corner of the chamber, there was a collection of bones, stripped clean. In the opposite one, two small bundles of wool made makeshift beds. Another, wider, tunnel led off in one direction.
“You two been living in here?”
I sniffed. It was even more pungent than I thought. The eyes in the tunnel stared at me, hesitating.
“C’mon,” I crouched down to their level in the opening. “We’ll work something out.”
*
“You should have shot them,” Susan said.
We were stood on the porch, looking out over the farm. The blackened trees looked like stakes stuck into the earth. The smell of smoke still hung in the air.
“You should have seen them, Sue. They saved me down there.” I turned to her. “Plus, we have less sheep to look after now.”
In front of us, the giant pasture had been split into two. On the one side, sheep grazed, munching on grass and slowly moving in lazy circles. In the other pasture, two Charmeleons chased each other, ducking in and out of their covered enclosure. One of them shot fire at the other, it went wide, over the sheep. They bleated in disgust. The two siblings wrestled, swiping at one another. The sun beat down on the plateau.
Aggression is a normal response in Pokémon that can make the difference between life and death in the wild. However, it can become a problem in powerful tame species such as Charmeleon when a simple claw or bite can be deadly and inflict serious injury. This discussion will look at aggression instances in Charmeleon to assess how and why we should deal with aggression in Pokémon partners.
One thing we must remember as responsible trainers is that every Charmeleon, if pushed enough, can be aggressive and that it is a natural reaction. Aggression can be the expression of emotion – be it frustration, surprise or anger. It can also be a way that the Pokémon deals with everyday situations that it is unsure about, demonstrating anxiety or a response to perceived threat. The Charmeleon uses aggressive moves such as biting and clawing to distance itself from the unusual and potentially dangerous situation. However, there is no reason why we cannot teach Charmeleon alternative reactions that are more welcome in a home environment.
Charmander will need careful training and nurturing to ensure that their Charmeleon stage does not use aggression inappropriately. If Charmeleon do not get this teaching early in life, it is much tougher to solve problems later. Without this early stimulation, a Charmeleon may appear to be constantly aggressive, but they are actually just basing their behaviours on experiences they learned early on in life. For more information on training Charmander, check out Rod Cumming’s book ‘Your Charmander and You’, which includes some excellent tips on clicker training that can be started right at egg stage.
However, while we can adjust behaviour, part of Charmeleon’s aggression is hereditary. There was an interesting study that assessed aggression frequency in 1,500 Charmeleon – half from the wild and half in captivity. It found Charmeleon that had been bred from a long line of battling partners were more prone to aggression than those caught in the wild. There were also physical differences: Charmeleon with a fighting lineage were larger, had harder bites and were quicker to use clawing attacks than fire.
Charmeleon communicate through body language, so this is a brilliant tool for assessing and negating anger before it leads to aggression. They have an extensive number of non-aggressive signals that demonstrate anger, including baring the teeth, narrowing the eyes, growling, snarling and staring. These signals will become more frequent the more persistent the threat. With these warning signs, it should be easy to spot when your Charmeleon is uncomfortable with something that is happening – a situation that could lead to aggressive behaviour. When you see these signs, act quickly. Start by removing the source of your Charmeleon’s anger and distract him with something engaging or something he enjoys. Later, when you are in a neutral environment, discuss what happened with him calmly. Setting up a routine of open discourse is the only true way of addressing ongoing triggers.
In your discussions, try and find the true source of the anger. What is your Charmeleon really angry about? If it is a knee-jerk reaction, it is likely masking another feeling that might be harder to show. Anger can also mask anxiety, so perhaps you need to consider whether your Charmeleon is feeling insecure. If this is the case, there are plenty of CBT professionals that specifically deal with fire types. CBT, or cognitive behavioural therapy, is designed to address the way your Charmeleon thinks and behaves, especially when it comes to thoughts about himself and how he feels about things happening around him.
Finally, anger is sometimes a sign of an underlying health condition. Make sure your Charmeleon’s health records are up to date and you regularly attend the Pokécentre clinics just to be sure.
Is aggression training the right thing to do for my Charmeleon?
I was once visiting a village at the base of Mount Molteau where a proud young lad by the name of Kit had caught himself a Charmeleon from the wild for security purposes and pest control on his farm. He was a fairly experienced trainer, so the Charmeleon quickly adapted to home living in all circumstances but one: the mailman. The village was fairly remote and a tight-knit community. Everyone had helped Kit train the Charmeleon and was familiar to him. However, Mr Chibbs came over from the next village to kindly distribute the mail every Sunday. Charmeleon, being quite pack-driven, just could not accept this occasional visitor into his world-view. He did everything he could to make the poor guy’s life a living hell. I have a lot of respect for that man for carrying on with his work through it all! Just imagine a fully grown 1m-high Charmeleon running at you with claws and teeth bared, all for stepping a toe over the village limits!
I was called in on behalf of the postal service to help sort the situation in 1997. It was part of this visit that Kit turned to me (in the middle of my grand introductory speech, I might add) to ask was aggression training the right thing to do? At first I was fuming – “how could he ask me that?”, I thought. But, I then paused for thought. It is actually an interesting question. Of course, the question ‘Is aggression training right for my Charmeleon?’ in relation to a situation where the Pokémon may endanger someone (or something) else should always be answered “yes”. However, it draws attention to the, perhaps, more important question of “should a Charmeleon showing aggression be kept in captivity?”.
This line of thought led me, rather than continuing with the course, to ask Kit to consider speaking with his Charmeleon about alternative living arrangements. Luckily, as they lived in the middle of no-where, close to the cave system where he caught the Charmeleon, this was easily carried out. He would come around a few times a day (when Chibbs wasn’t there) to help out on the farm in exchange for meat, but would live in the wild. The Charmeleon just wasn’t suitable to living in that sort of environment and a simple change in arrangement was enough to find a harmonious solution.
It was our first job – literally the very first, we’d barely even set up shop. Image credit: Thyfany Ron
The water splashed up at my torso.
“That’s just swell.”
“Char! Char!” Charmander scolded, from his position on my shoulder.
“It didn’t go anywhere near your tail flame, Charmander. Stop your whining.” I continued through the tunnel. It was getting deeper. We were just passing beneath the factory labs at this point. I made a quiet prayer to myself that it was only water splashing me and not chemical waste or runoff from some unpleasant experiment. The labyrinthian system beneath the factory had turned out to be a lot easier to navigate than I’d expected, thanks in no small part to my Charmander and his impeccable sense of direction. His tail flame also lit up the tunnels better than any torch could. He was a regular swiss-army Pokémon.
“Charmander, up ahead.” I pointed forward at the upcoming crossroads. Charmander raised his claw to his chin and scratched. The flame on his tail pulsed and wavered.
“Char! Char!” He pointed right.
“Thanks pal.” I turned right, deeper into that warren of confusion.
*
It was our first job – literally the very first, we’d barely even set up shop. We’d not even paid the first month of rent on the office. I was still moving my desk in when an old guy knocked on the glass of our door. Our first client.
“Are you the Hitokage Detective Agency?” his nasally voice whispered into the office.
Actually, forget about old. This guy was prehistoric. I remember almost jumping out of my skin when I saw his shrivelled face peering in, the huge spectacles magnifying his cloudy ancient eyes, his bald and liver-spotted head serrated by the shadow of the office blinds. My first thought was that it was a Pokémon I’d never seen before. I’d heard they were cloning ancient Pokémon in a lab somewhere, but no, this was just a man. I put on my business face, invited him in, and heard him out.
Like anyone else who still lived in that hellhole, he worked in a factory. In fact, he owned a handful of factories, he explained. And his top factory was in trouble, someone kept blocking the inflow pipe and it looked like corporate espionage. He wanted us to catch the criminals in the act. It wasn’t the romantic first case I’d imagined but he was paying in cash. The money was good. And besides, in Gringey city, romance was a foreign word.
“Sir, we’ll take the case.” I said once he’d explained his situation. He stuck out a cold and leathery hand – the texture and colour was the same as the hide of a Sandshrew – and I shook it with a wince. Once he’d left and Charmander had woken from his nap, we headed out into the haze and smokestacks of Gringey City.
*
“Char! Char!” He pointed forward. I could see it too. The tunnel was getting wider. It was getting shallower too. Which was good, because moments earlier it had almost reached my chest. I’d nearly had to carry Charmander above my head, which wouldn’t have gone down well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the light of his tail flame reflect off of something on the wall. I moved closer. The brick here was dark and furry-looking, as it had been since we entered the tunnel. But in this section of the tunnel, the wall glistened with a shimmering film, like someone had sneezed all over it.
“What do you reckon Charmander?”
“Char…”
“Yeah, I’m not stupid. I wasn’t exactly going to stick my hand in it.” I saw his tail flame flicker. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. This place is freaking me out.”
“Char!” I felt his hand grip my shirt.
“You too, huh?”
“Char! Char!”
His attention was no longer on the wall. I saw that he was pointing off further down the tunnel. Something was down there.
“Ok, calm down pal.” We began moving down the tunnel. I could feel him rumbling on my shoulder, getting ready to attack. His tail began to light up the remainder of the tunnel. A dead-end. The wall at the far end was covered in the same slime.
“Char!”
“I thought you were leading us to the inflow pipe?”
“CHAR!”
“Don’t shout at me, you’re the one who led us down a dead-end.”
But all of a sudden it made sense. Charmander wasn’t shouting at me. He was shouting at the wall. The wall that was slick with a sticky substance. The wall that had begun to twist and writhe. Spots of moonlight shot through the wall as cracks began to appear. It seemed to be alive. Looking up, I realised that the ceiling of the tunnel was bending and snaking too, in the same eldritch way as the wall. Something fell from the top of the tunnel with a wet slap. It landed in the water at our feet, a large pile of purple goo. Charmander was urging me to move, but I couldn’t look away. Two eyes appeared out of the goo. Then a toothless, gaping maw.
“GRIIIIIME!” it croaked. Something inside of me snapped, the spell of fear that had been cast over me broke. I began to back away.
“Ok Charmander, not too quick. Let’s just-“ My sentence was cut short as a pile of the gunk hit me on the back, propelling Charmander from my shoulder. Another hit my other shoulder, sending me sprawling.
“Char! Char!” He stood on his tiptoes, holding his flame high above the dirty water.
“Hold on Charmander. Just keep your tail out of the water.” Another mound of sludge hit my belly as I tried to scramble to my feet, knocking the wind out of me. I went to scream, and a heap landed on my face. I felt it begin to seep down my throat. Some began clogging my nose. I couldn’t breathe. The smell of sulphur and mould was unbearable.
“GRIIIIIME!”
I felt more land on my arms and legs as they pushed me under the water. There were dull vibrations as more of the things landed around me. I began to black out.
“CHAAAAAAAAAAR!” There was a blast of heat overhead, above the water. I felt the muddy weights move off me in a flash, retreating from the flames. I could hear muted squeals. Desperate for air, I threw my head above the water as soon as the fire disappeared and took in a deep gasp. My mouth still tasted foul. Behind me, Charmander stood still holding his tail above the water. Smoke curled around his snout.
“Flamethrower, huh?” I croaked.
“Char!”
“Well done buddy, I think you just saved me from a whole heap of trouble.” I stood up and spat out the last of the grime. The Pokémon seemed to have fled, revealing the inflow pipe at the end of the tunnel, where the pulsating wall had been just moments earlier. I reached down and picked up Charmander, putting him on my shoulder.
“Char?”
“I don’t have a clue. But they were disgusting. At least they seem to have gone now. They must have been clogging up the inflow pipe.”
“Char! Char!”
“Yeah, I guess it was a success. Though when they make the movie adaptation of our life stories, they can leave out this case.” We began walking back out of the tunnel. Charmander’s tail was flickering and glowing.
This is part 3 of this story. If you haven’t read parts, one or two, check them out first!
The anger in its eyes was replaced by weariness. It was tired of the fight. Image credit: Laurie MacQueen
“SAUUUUUUUUUUR!”
The sound burst from the foliage, sending a flock of Pidgeys shooting above the canopy. It was coming from beyond the vast muddy tract to the side of the shanty village.
“Get somewhere safe, if you know what’s good for you,” I shouted to the men and women, in their black hoods. I noticed that a small red ‘R’ had been sewn into a few of them. Rebranding was right.
“Good luck,” the grunt I was talking to spat.
“Just stay down. You lot have done enough.” I gestured over my shoulder. “Growlithe, with me.” She jumped down from the boat and stood by my side. In that moment I thanked the stars I wouldn’t have to make my way over the crest of that dark hillock by myself. I walked forward, the Venusaur roared once more, urging me into a run. Growlithe stayed by my heels, keeping speed with my swift, heavy footsteps.
*
We were up the hill in seconds and, upon reaching the top, I realised the scale of the operation. In a semi-circle that reached about a mile in diameter, every tree had been decimated so not even a stump remained. In the middle of this, a huge ribbon of land had been cut out and filled with metal and concrete. Judging from what the guy at the dock had said, this was just the entrance too. No doubt there was an entire network of tunnels and pipes below me. For a moment, I thought I could feel the thrum of the machinery coursing through the ancient ground. Or perhaps it was the scarred, violated ground itself, screaming out. Before I could ponder this, that booming cry let out once more.
“SAUUUUUUUUUUR!”
About a quarter of the way around the vast semicircle, the trees shook. It reminded me of the supportive groups of Dugtrio we’d seen on our descent into this wretched place. Though I knew that the thing coming out of the trees was something permeated with uncompromising anger, not the kind, cooperative spirits of the burrowing Pokémon we’d seen the day before.
“SAUUUUUUUUUUR!”
And could I blame it for being angry? This was its home, had no doubt been its home for decades, and it was being devastated. Not only that, but it had been forced to stand by and watch as other Pokémon were subjected to the cruellest kinds of servitude. Of course it would intervene, how could ‘Team Rocket’ have expected anything less?
“SAUUUUUUUUUUR!”
I’d spent so long battling and training Pokémon, focusing on my next big win and the next big pay out, that it had long slipped my mind that Pokémon were living creatures with their own spirits and ways of life.
“SAUUUUUUUUUUR!” This final cry was the closest yet. And as that fact occurred to me, and my hat was blown from my head, the Venusaur burst through the treeline. The Venusaur I’d trekked into hell to capture, the Pokémon I was being paid to subdue. Only now I realised that either the forgettable man in his minimalist office had been mistaken or, more likely, he had lied. This was no ordinary Venusaur. I’d done my research, and I’d seen more than my share of Venusaur in my time – battled a few too. They usually stood at around six foot, this one was over eight. It was also the oldest Pokémon I’d ever seen. It almost looked like it was part of the forest, moss and leaves clung to its hide, small flowers bloomed to accompany the gigantic tree on its back. It stood now, just out of the canopy, observing the latest damage. I gestured for Growlithe to remain where she was. She obliged, but looked at me as if to say I hope you know what you’re doing. I took a gulp, crouched down a little lower, steeled myself, and approached it.
*
It let out another blistering roar as I approached, but this one seemed more for show. It didn’t seem to see me as a threat. Though, I realised when I was in spitting distance, things might be a heck of a lot different if I was in a Team Rocket get-up. Moving my hand upwards, the Venusaur bent down to receive it. I stroked its muzzle. It rumbled contently.
“I’m not like the others. I was sent here to capture you,” I began. In its eyes I saw brief panic, or anger, but I continued as quickly as I could. “But I won’t be doing that. I’ve seen what they’ve done to your home, and I can’t bring it back. I’m sorry, but we’re fighting forces beyond our comprehension.” It looked dismayed at this, and turned to go back into the forest. I called after it, “But I know where you can exist peacefully. A place where you can live your last few years in quiet serenity.”
“Sauuuuur?” Its voice was gentler now. It turned back around. The anger in its eyes was replaced by weariness. It was tired of the fight. I knew that a warrior like that could never back down from a battle. But this particular battle was close to killing it.
“And,” I smiled at it, “There’s no reason we can’t tear this place down on our way out.”
*
Venusaur made short work of the construction site. Once I’d identified the weak spots and pointed them out, its vines made the laboratory into a pit of nothing more than rubble. It wouldn’t stop the construction, but it would slow it down. Though, if we were lucky, the cost implications would be too great for Team Rocket and the whole operation might be written off.
“Let’s go,” I said, to Growlithe and Venusaur, “There’s a boat waiting and an army between us and it.”
I soon found that my warning was premature. Once down the hill, Venusaur obliterated any resistance. In a flurry of vines it dispatched all the grunts, sending them flying into the water downriver. One lucky grunt managed to throw a Pokémon before being thrown screaming into the murky eddy. It was a Houndoom, and it may have even been a Mega Houndoom. I never got chance to find out. Growlithe and I looked on, stunned, as Venusaur sent out a scorching Solar Beam which sent the dark Pokémon fleeing into the underbrush.
*
The battle was nothing compared to getting that great, lumbering creature onto the S.S. Cactus. The Captain mimed a dramatic fainting motion when I began leading the mossy giant on board. But we managed it, with the help of the First Mate and about a dozen, freed Machamp, Machoke, and Machop. Once accomplished, Growlithe rubbed against my leg.
“You didn’t do so bad yourself girl,” I said, before retiring to our cabin.
*
The sun had come up. The sound of the Vermilion City port drifted closer.
“What happened then?” Jaime asked. I was surprised she’d stayed awake.
“Well I never heard from Team Rocket again. Though soon after returning home, I found that I was no longer welcome to participate in the Pokémon League, which was surely their doing. But I discovered on that journey back up the river, as the sounds of Pokémon conversing and playing drifted into my cabin, that battling was no longer the life for me. I’d find my purpose doing something to benefit all Pokémon, something worthwhile. Even now, decades later, I don’t know if I’ve found it yet. But Growlithe (now Arcanine) and I have had one heck of a time searching.”
The group sat around me smiled. I looked at Arcanine as she dozed. She’d heard all this before.
“As for that Venusaur, she lived out her final years in complete peacful harmony, surrounded by younger Pokémon who would often sit around in a circle and listen to her stories. I never told anyone where I’d taken her, but I still visit now and then to pay my respects to the Pokémon that changed my life.”
We began our journey into that enigmatic place of mystery and malice. Image Credit: @fdjrt
The PA system buzzed and a tired voice crackled out. “Sorry folks, looks like we’re here all night. The water’s too choppy to cross, but we’ll have you in Vermilion City by daybreak tomorrow.”
The others groaned. Arcanine let out a low whine and covered his head with his paw. I leant back into her fur and lowered the brim of my hat over my eyes. The giant living pillow beneath my head rumbled.
*
I’m not sure how long I slept before their discussion woke me. I opened my eyes and surveyed the cabin. Flames bounced from the low ceiling, down the walls, and lit up the sleeping Pokémon around the space. In the centre, the other trainers were huddled around a small fire – talking about their glory days. It took a few moments for me to gather my senses, but I realised they were talking about the biggest Pokémon they’d ever encountered, or perhaps the most dangerous. In my experience, the two went hand-in-hand. Jamie’s laughter had awoken me. It was a sudden, distressing sound, like a Haunter with a sore throat. I closed my eyes, hoping to catch up with the last few tendrils of the dream I was having before they vanished forever.
“Hey Robert!” It was Jamie. I briefly wondered about keeping my eyes closed, pretending I was still sound asleep and hadn’t heard her. But there wasn’t much chance of me falling back asleep anyway. I sat up and stretched my arms with a dull pop.
“Yes, Jamie?” Irritation had seeped into my voice. I tried to hide it. “Are you guys alright?”
“We were wondering,” she broke eye contact, shifting her gaze to the straw-ridden floor, “What’s the most dangerous Pokémon you’ve ever seen? Face-to-face I mean.”
The others looked around at me. Their voracious eyes flickered orange in the fire-light.
“Guys, you don’t want to hear an old man’s stories.”
“Of course we do!” Jamie burst in.
“It’s not very nice. I don’t like to talk about it.” Arcanine shifted under me, nudging me with her head. “But, if you guys want to hear it.”
Jamie looked back at the others, as if to say I told you he would. Whatever anyone says, deep down everyone enjoys telling stories.
“Ok, shift a bit closer. And put that fire out. The sun’s coming up soon and we’ll be on the move again.”
I began.
*
When I was a young man, I made a bit of a name for myself as a trainer. Nothing fancy, but enough to attract the attention of a few particular organisations. They liked my efficiency, and the fact that I’d never lost a battle didn’t hurt things either. I’d also managed to catch a troublesome Onix, one people said could never be caught – let alone trained. (But that, as they say, is another story for another day). There was one up-and-coming organisation in particular that took an interest after that moment. You’ve probably heard of them as Team Rocket, but back then they were called something different. I can’t recall.
I took the meeting with the head honcho. You have to remember, I was popular back then, and that meant I made a lot of Pokédollars. But being that popular, I spent most of it as I made it. Usually on things I’d regret. So I took the meeting. What harm was there? He was offering me some sort of opportunity, said it would raise my profile even more and it’d be easy money. And, as I said, my pockets were tapped. I was more than willing to ride that potential gravy train.
The meeting was odd. I was lead, or escorted, to the penthouse office of the biggest building I’d seen in my life. In that office was one table, and a chair on either side. The man across from me during that meeting made next to no impression in my mind. It’s as if he could have been any number of people.
“We want you to catch a Pokémon, a Venusaur,” he said. His voice was perhaps the least memorable thing about this already forgettable man. Looking back, I think he wanted me to forget every detail about him.
“Of course.” I was happy to do it, this was firmly in my wheelhouse. But I knew the old idiom, if something’s too good to be true, blah, blah. “What’s the catch?” I asked.
“No catch. Having this Venusaur out of the equation is in this business’ best interest. It’s been causing quite a lot of environmental havoc. Not to mention quite a bit of pandemonium with the local populace.”
It was an altruistic view, but it mattered little to me. I only needed to know one thing, “What’s the pay?”
He went into more detail after that. Apparently, a Venusaur was running rampant in a rural area just outside the Kanto region. It was a desolate, depressing place. Only reachable by boat. It was this more than the money that hooked me. As a boy I’d always been fascinated by the dark places on the map, the undiscovered areas of the world. Of course, by the time I’d grown up, the majority had been discovered and someone had built a Pokémart and a gym. After we’d agreed on pay, the only question I wanted answering was when I could get started.
*
The boat they gave me should have been my first clue that things weren’t exactly on the level. It was named the S.S. Cactus, and it looked like a wreck that had been left as a bizarre floating mausoleum. The captain didn’t instil much confidence in me either. An ancient Mr Mime, he looked older than even the ship. The moth-eaten peaked cap atop his head appeared older than the two combined. He showed me to my quarters. It was a small cabin at the rear of the ship, barely large enough for myself and Growlithe. But we’d spent a few tough nights in Viridian Forest, and compared to that with its incessant buzzing of Beedrils and the constant hooting of Noctowls, the cramped accommodation was practically the S.S. Anne.
I soon found out that, apart from the Captain and the Machamp acting as First Mate, we were the only ones on that vast ship. But, through a tricky exchange, the Captain assured us that it wasn’t a long journey. I asked the First Mate and the Captain just before we set off if either of them had heard talk of the Venusaur at the end of the river. The Captain pretended not to have heard, and First Mate Machamp all of a sudden made himself very busy moving my luggage aboard.
Soon after that, we began our journey into that enigmatic place of mystery and malice.
My Bulbasaur loves to bake and he asked me to share one of his favourite recipes with you . We hope you enjoy making some Bulbasaur Biscuits!
What do I need?
170g unsalted butter 200g caster sugar 2 eggs 1 cap of vanilla essence 400g self-raising flour 1 teaspoon of salt 300g chocolate Chocolate decorations
Mixing bowl and spoon Weighing scales Rolling pin Bulbasaur cookie cutter (I used the Cuticuter ones, but you can also get similar ones on Etsy) Baking tray Clingfilm Baking paper Microwave and microwave-safe bowl for melting chocolate Spoon or knife (pallet knife or butter knife are good)
Step #1
Cut the butter into small cubes and place in a mixing bowl. Mix in the sugar. This might be more difficult if the butter has been in the fridge!
Step #2
Add the eggs, flour, salt and vanilla essence into the butter mixture. You could sieve the flour for fewer flowery lumps. Mix well – you might want to use your hands.
You might need to add some more flour if your dough is too firm. Once a dough is formed, split in half and mould each half into flat ovals – splitting in two batches makes it easier to cook later. Wrap in clingfilm and put them in the fridge for at least one hour.
Step #3
Line a baking tray with baking paper and set the oven to 170°C (338°F).
Roll out one of your dough ovals on a floured surface to around 1/2cm-1cm thick, depending on how thick you want your biscuits to be! If you’re using the same cookie cutter as me, use the bottom part (the ‘outline cutter’ seen in the picture above) to cut a piece of dough near the edge. Leave this cut-out inside the ‘outline cutter’ and take the other part of the cutter (the part with Bulbasaur’s details on) and press lightly into the dough. It should fit exactly into the ‘outline cutter’. Be careful not to push too hard, I found it was best to push so the back of the ‘detail-cutter’ was level with the ‘outline cutter’.
Step #4
Place your Bulbasaur on the baking tray, spacing them out evenly. Put your biscuits in the oven for 8-12 minutes.
Step #5
When cooked, place on a wire rack (or an upturned baking tray lined with baking paper will do!) to cool.
Step #6
Make up your second batch, following the same steps above. Remember to wash up after they’re all done!
Step #7
To decorate, snap your chocolate to pieces in a microwave-safe bowl. Heat in the microwave in small bursts of no more than 10 seconds. In between each, take a metal spoon or knife (a butter or pallet knife are good) to stir the chocolate each time. Careful, as the bowl can get quite hot!
Once melted, carefully dip the back of each Bulbasaur biscuit in the chocolate. You might want to use your pallet knife to wipe off the excess, or spread the chocolate more evenly. Have a tissue handy to wipe chocolate from your fingers so you don’t get too much on the front! You can use all sorts of sprinkles! We went for milk chocolate (left), dark chocolate (middle), just chocolate (right) and we left some plain.
A Breeder's Guide to Pokémon 