CLIFFORD!!😛

like be serious for a second.

if you own giratina there is no such thing as having a normal life anymore.

you're not going to class. you're not stopping by the grocery store. you're not quietly existing in your apartment. every government on earth would like a word with you because you are, depending on which dex entry we're going with, friends with a being capable of casually opening portals into another dimension that was literally banished for being too violent.

that stops being "haha cool legendary" and starts becoming an international incident.

same with arceus. congratulations. you've effectively become roommates with what is, for all practical purposes, god. i don't think you're making it to your nine-thirty lecture after that.

personally i think the ideal pokémon team is one that actually improves your life without accidentally restructuring global politics.

mine would probably be something like this.

Flygon.

this one was never in question. favorite pokémon of all time. apparently they're supposed to create songs by vibrating their wings in desert sandstorms which is both beautiful and deeply impractical for where i live, but i also just think it'd be a genuinely comforting pokémon to have around. they're supposed to be incredibly gentle despite looking like they could carry you into the stratosphere.

also. transportation. i am simply saying.

Mudsdale.

i climb recreationally. i hike when i get the chance. mudsdale is basically built to go places humans aren't particularly good at traversing. also i like the mental image of showing up to campus on a horse the size of a pickup truck.

Clodsire.

look at him.

that's the whole argument.

no but genuinely clodsire feels like the emotional support bean of the pokémon world. every interaction i've ever imagined with one involves it blinking at you for thirty seconds before deciding you're probably alright.

i think everybody deserves that.

Corviknight.

not because of the flying taxi thing.

mostly because corvids are already absurdly intelligent in real life and the idea of having a giant steel raven wandering around my apartment quietly judging my life choices is honestly kind of comforting.

plus it would probably stop the campus squirrels from trying to mug me for granola bars.

Audino.

this is the one i think people underestimate.

dex entries consistently talk about audino sensing physical and emotional conditions through sound and touch. if pokémon actually existed, having one around would probably do more for your day-to-day wellbeing than almost any legendary ever could.

especially during finals.

especially after climbing.

Sandshrew.

this is entirely because i think it would happily exist in my backpack.

also if you've ever watched an animal enthusiastically dig a hole for no reason you'll understand why this makes perfect sense to me.

i think people get too caught up in building teams that would win battles.

i don't need to win battles.

i need somebody to remind me to eat lunch.

i need somebody to carry heavy groceries without looking offended.

i need somebody who will happily exist in the same room while i spend four hours writing an essay because somehow that makes the room feel less empty.

half the reason pokémon appeals to me isn't the battling. it's the coexistence. the idea that your everyday life would be shared with creatures that each have their own habits and personalities.

i don't want the god of antimatter.

i want clodsire to slowly wander into the kitchen while i'm making coffee and stare at me until i remember i forgot breakfast.

also there is something uniquely human about spending your free time inventing increasingly elaborate ways to climb objects. like we looked at mountains and cliffs and collectively decided that wasn't inconvenient enough, so now we've built entire buildings dedicated to scaling fake walls after class on a wednesday.

i think what i enjoy most about it is that climbing feels weirdly honest. you can't really bluff your way through it. either you can reach the next hold or you can't. either your route works or you're back on the mats trying to pretend you meant to fall off there. and everybody does it. every single person in the gym has had the experience of staring at a route, confidently announcing that they've figured it out, and then immediately being proven wrong by a piece of coloured plastic.

today there was a route i kept getting stuck on about three quarters of the way up because i'd committed to an objectively terrible position and refused to admit it for an embarrassing amount of time. which, unfortunately, feels like a metaphor that my literature professors would have a field day with.