Episode 3: A Plantémon Emergency!!
Hi, friends! Cait here. By now itâs been a couple of weeks since Betoâs and my journey as newbie PokĂ©gardeners began and so far itâs been a whirlwind. (And thatâs without any flying PlantĂ©mon!)
Our planting adventure began with a string of cool, sunny days, with only brief visits from San Franciscoâs long-time associate, Karl the Fog. Our PlantĂ©mon leveled up, growing stronger and taller every day. In fact, our trouts soon grew enough to fill their PC container. (Iâd heard that Goldeens do that, but I guess itâs true of all water PlantĂ©mon!)
All was well, until one day we noticed one of our fire PlantĂ©mon, Char(d)mander, acting out. At first we attributed it to his Swiss roots, but his chardy counterplants didnât seem to possess his same roguish nature. He was pushing over some of his fellow PlantĂ©mon, soaking up their water, and just being an overall jerk. We couldnât connect with him, and it got so bad that we thought we might have to move him into his own PC.
But then one night the clouds came. A sturdy wind picked up and rustled the PCâs protective cages, jostling the PlantĂ©mon inside. The Hitmon-kales ceased their battle momentarily to band together against the gusts. Prof. Archie looked toward the skies, his small clay beak agape.
Next the rains started. They began gradually at first, but soon giant drops were splashing down onto the deck, filling the PlantĂ©monâs containers with more water than they had yet encountered in their short lives. The trouts adapted to it well, relishing the extra moisture. The butters seemed fine with the extra water too, even though they didnât much care for the wind. Frankly, we donât think the herbs even noticed. But there was one PC that was effected more than the others by the downpour: our fire PlantĂ©mon, the chards.
Iâm not 100% sure what happened next, so the following tale is partly speculation. If you recall from our previous post, our chard PC had a secret ditto in its midst, nestled amongst the fire PlantĂ©mon. Iâm not sure of the exact PlantĂ©mon it might have transformed into (we think it might have been a Vileplume, with its expansive flower), I only know that when I woke to check on them the next day, the chards had made it through, their leaves alight.
But one of them didnât look so hot. You guessed it â Char(d)mander. His headstrong nature had led him to try and fend for himself in the storm, and his leaves drooped, overcome with the weight of the water. Quickly, I removed some of the pooled water from his soil and pointed him toward the emerging sun. The day went on and things looked bleak.
The next morning, the clouds had parted and the sun rose from behind the gleaming hills. I hurried out to the garden, hoping the little chard had managed to pull through the night. And he had! Not only had his spark returned, but something about his nature felt softer, kinder. He was cooperating with the other chardâ respectful, even. He stopped stealing their water (perhaps he had gotten enough for one lifetime), and was respectful of their leaves. Our once hotheaded plantĂ©mon had reformed!
Well, thatâs all for our PlantĂ©mon adventures today. Until next time!
