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 Posted: Mon Aug 02, 2010 8:55 pm
'Banette, huh?' Train thought, her gaze set on the Ghost-type. She rather liked the way it looked, and wouldn't mind seeing it in a battle. As Maz released his other Pokémon, her eyes shifted to the Murkrow and Sharpedo, deciding that these also looked pretty damn cool. Especially the shark.
"Oh, Carlos," She said, blinking and turning her head to look at Carlos' Pokémon. "I meant to ask you, what are your other two Pokémon?" She'd already learned what Julio was, but was still unsure of the bird and absolutely clueless on the cricket.
She blinked again and backed up as Maz suddenly appeared right in her face, and then was gone. She stared at him dumbfounded for a second and then said, "I just want to challenge Misty." This was going to be an interesting trip, that was for sure.
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Posted: Mon Aug 02, 2010 9:01 pm
There was a boy who wore the Rustboro uniform, so it was clear that the other one was the challenger, especially with knowledge that the challenger had Sinnoh Pokémon. Crush stepped forward dressed in Hawaiian trunks and a dark blue tank. His blue black hair tied back in a loose ponytail the bangs free and brushing across his eyes which unconsciously swept aside rattling the sharpedo tooth necklace around his neck.
“Aloha,” He said his laid back island tone. “Names Troy Gamba. But call me Crush. Heard there was a sheila I needed to see about that badge. Unless there be two sheilas in the city that hang around the gym with name Roxanne, I’m guessing you’re the one I need to beat for it.”
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thunderbolts_and_sunshine
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Posted: Mon Aug 02, 2010 9:41 pm
Almost right away Riza could tell that Crenu's mood had shifted, though it was unclear as to if that was a good or a bad thing. Her stomach made a painful growling sound as they started walking again and she managed to stave off another wave of lightheadedness. Crenu was almost painfully silent now, even more so than usual, and it made Riza feel uneasy, even though she had no real way of knowing what was really bothering him. The two of them spent the majority of the rest of the evening in silence, even after they'd found an inexpensive place to eat. By the time they were finished, it was fully dark outside so they made their way back to the pokecenter. She made sure all her Pokemon were fully healed before she bid Shiro good night, still feeling as though she'd done something wrong even as she kissed him goodnight and went into her room.
She changed into her silken pink nightgown and thought about releasing all her Pokemon from their poke balls, but decided against it. Instead she let only Eris out as she knew the Quilava would behave herself, especially if she were the only one out. Also, she didn't want to spook poor Faustus any more than she had earlier in the day. She climbed into bed and under the covers, already making a list in her mind of the things she needed to do tomorrow, though the drowsiness was quickly getting the best of her as Eris had snuggled down in the blankets with her, and nothing was more warm and comfortable than cuddling with a cozy fire-type, and very soon she was fast asleep.
* * * * *
'Sheila?' Roxanne repeated mentally, a little confused by the statement made by her challenger. That was definitely a new one, but she tried to ignore it and instead continued to offer a polite smile. "All right, Crush," she said, taking a moment to study his appearance. It seemed trainers came in all types after all, and her gaze moved to Tailor, whom she recognized now that she could get a better look at him. "That's me. I guess we'd best get started then," she said with a quick nod. "The rules of the match are as follows: two Pokemon each in a single battle style. There will be no time limit, and the use of items is prohibited. If you defeat me, you will of course, receive my badge as proof."
She took a poke ball from her belt and gave it a toss, revealing her first Pokemon, an energetic Geodude. The Pokemon gave a cry and pounded her fists together, eager to get going. "Your move, Crush," Roxanne said, one hand resting gently on her hip as she awaited her opponent's choice of Pokemon.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 2:10 am
“Well? Age before awesome,” Damien said with a grin, light reflecting off his glasses. He folded his arms, jet black hair flowing dramatically in the nonexistent wind. His Meowth glared forth, expression serious as a heart attack. A paw rose up in front of him, palm facing outward. The other paw lay at his hip, almost curled into a fist.
The imaginary camera proceeded to rapidly pan over to our hero. Crimson locks of hair hung haphazardly over his eyes, casting a shadow over his face. A razor toothed grin almost glowed white in that shadow. The bottom of the Cherrygrove trainer’s dark red jacket fluttered in the breeze, which was apparently going the opposite direction of Damien’s overdramatic token wind storm. A blood red pokeball emblem was centered on the black-as-deep-space T-shirt underneath the jacket. “Your funeral, kid...”
Apparently, the melodramatic tendencies of the two warriors wasn’t lost on the crowd. A mob of second graders circled the two trainers, chanting for the best trainer in class 2B. Even a few monks wandered over to watch the show.
Cindy immediately crouched down, rushing toward the opposing Meowth in a full speed tackle. Her image moved forth in almost a blur. Scarlet’s grin widened. Cindy was about to utterly annihilate that little-
“Hah! He’s making a charge! Take your attack of opportunity!”
“What?” Scarlet was pretty confused. What the heck was that kid-
The Meowth hopped to the side, black slitted eyes following the forward dive Cindy’d just barely missed. It moved its hand in an upward sweep, slashing the cyndaquil in the side. She fell over, flinching. After all, Fake Out tended to have that effect.
“Now. Five foot step, then a full attack!” A massive smile flashed Damien’s face as his classmates cheered him on. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to watch your buddy completely destroy a high school kid.
The Meowth circled in front of the cyndaquil, where there wouldn’t be any pesky flaming needles to drive a hand into, began a full out assault with Fury Swipes, claws shooting out of its paws. A seemingly endless assault of vicious slashes began, Cindy awkwardly backing away, trying to shield herself with her little arms, squeaking in pain with every one of the scratches inflicted.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 2:30 am
“C-Cindy! No!” Scarlet clenched his fist, wondering what kind of jackass could do something so awful to such an adorable pyro. Apparently, he’d conveniently forgotten that he was technically beating up a kid eight years his junior. “… Okay! I want you to eat the damage! Tackle him! Then follow up with smoke screen!”
“Quiiiiiiii!” our adorable little heroine shrieked, launching through the blur of blades, bringing the Meowth down to the ground with a hard thud. Tiny little arms pinned down the rude kitty’s paws, paws he wouldn’t be swinging. Not if Cindy had anything to say about it. She was angry, no, ticked, and that rage made her feel something burning inside her. The plethora of quills on her back began randomly retracting and extending, each at different times, giving the illusion of a growing blaze. And she had the sudden urge to angrily shoot fire in that Meowth’s face.
And Cindy and Scarlet both had serious impulse control issues.
A stream of orange flame shot out of Cindy’s mouse into Meowth’s face at a dangerous range.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 3:45 am
Whilst our friends in Kanto were anticipating a balls-out strike against a certain crime syndicate in the murky distance, whilst trainers braced themselves for the intensity of gym battles they would never forget in their lifetimes, whilst couples shared embraces that burned with wild passion, another sort of crazy was about to beset my aloofly cheery Mary-Anne.
After dinner, Milton had showed his guests to their quarters before retiring to a sort of great room alongside Diego and Rebecca. Diego still felt uncomfortably awkward around his old master; as much as the Smeargle told himself over and over again that morality had always been subjective, that he had no right to judge his dearest master -- the master who had taken him in when he was a wee pup, the master who taught him his craft and even the written language of man -- that in the pursuit of art there was no black and white guidelines, Diego simply could not feel at peace with the current state of affairs. He glanced shiftily at Rebecca; the child had fallen asleep with her head upon Milton's lap, the man stroking her hair absent-mindedly, his thoughts elsewhere. Rebecca had laid there obediently when Milton requested, had listened without complaining to the children's story that Milton read her from a book that was well-worn and must've been read over and over, had slowed her operations down like a machine shutting down and fallen asleep thus. Only in sleep did she regain the naivety of an innocent child.
"It won't do," Milton said at last, breaking the silence of the crackling firewood. "It won't do at all!" he said, raising his voice shrilly. Rebecca fidgeted, but did not wake. His eyes, blazing like the heart of the fireplace just in front of him, was fixated on his last piece of art -- the peaceful image of Mary-Anne and her Pokemon. "I don't feel any intrigue, any emotion, any interest, any life," Milton continued feverishly. "Look, how dull the contentment of an average man is! I thought, maybe, if I looked at your fellow traveler... the typical teenage Pokemon trainer, a typical young girl... I could understand how people dealt with mediocrity on a day to day basis, I could halt the hunger in my heart, my soul. But I cannot. A quietly content life? Pah! A travesty."
Milton suddenly stood up; Rebecca started, but noting that the jerking movement had only been Milton, had fallen asleep with her head upon the long couch instead of the artist's lap. Meanwhile, Milton took long strides across the old carpet, snatched the portrait of M.A. and her crew off the wall, and angrily threw it into the fire. The flames ate hungrily at the dry parchment, mutating the subjects of its content with the brown disease of paper burning. Diego said nothing, not knowing what he could say, hoping his remaining calm in the midst of Milton's rant would ease the artist.
"But you understand this all, don't you, Diego?" Milton asked, coming to the Smeargle's seat on the couch now. Diego resisted the temptation to shrink away from Milton's bony hands, the fingers that reached towards the Smeargle appeasingly. They rested upon Diego's own paws. Milton's voice grew softer. "You understand, of course? Of all the people, you always understood my pain. My lust to bring to life that which I could not grasp myself."
Diego remembered. The loves Milton could not retain, the lives he could not extend, the hurts he saw that he could not mend; Milton had always been sensitive, had been too sentimental, too empathetic, too easy to trust, too feeling. This all lent itself to great, heartfelt pieces, but to Milton, a heart that he kept ripping at, tearing at mercilessly. Such was the compassion that warped him.
"You understand, then, that there is nothing left in this life for me. Nothing! I have seen it all. Felt it all. It has left me tired, has left me wishing for rest from this ceaseless, greedy hunger. It is greed, isn't it? What I've done to poor Rebecca," he said, sadly. "In wishing to feel alive, I've robbed her of her own life... But no matter. I will make amends. I will fix what I have wronged. With you, Diego, by my side... my comrade of ten years, it must be? Maybe longer? What are numbers but arbitrary constructions of man? What we have, our bond, is everlasting... Even across that cruel beast that is the ocean, our friendship did not rust, did not dissipate, did not relent at all. Am I right?" Milton's voice suddenly grew sharp. Diego, afraid of Milton's growing frenzy, nodded. The artist took the Smeargle's rapid response as a strong affirmative.
"You see, then, that there is nothing left in this life for me," Milton repeated, this time more calmly. A collected reassurance set into the thin man's emerald eyes, the crazy flashes subsiding into a deep recession in his orbs. Diego did not see where this was going, but nodded mutely, trying to understand.
"There is only death. The last great beauty left unexplored. It's waiting for us, Diego. Alone, I was afraid to test its great expanses... But if it is with you, my dear friend -- why, we've traveled across all the regions, now, what last frontier is there but the one that no man or Pokemon returns? Oh, of course we'd have to wait until our guests leave, what manners would that be to off ourselves without seeing them off first?" Milton chuckled, somewhat amused.
Diego was alarmed. There was no laughterin Milton's eyes. The man had never been the type to joke, had always been serious and grave and pensive and sweet and feeling -- how could this man -- to avert answering immediately, Diego cast his eyes to the side, inadvertently glancing once again at Rebecca.
"Ah, my sensible friend. Of course, you worry about what would happen to the child? Well, she's quite broken, as I'm sure you've noticed. A doll with no soul left... My fault, of course, I shouldn't have defiled her so, shouldn't have forced her love. My passion destroyed her. But I told you I'd take responsibility. I'll arrange it so that she will follow us, to the great unknown. She will never feel alone again; you know, that's what my dearest doll feared the most! But think, Diego! What terrible and awesome sights we shall see! And feel! And --"
Milton abruptly stopped, having noticed the terrible fear in the Smeargle's face. "What's wrong?" he asked, quizzically. "Before, no matter what it was, no matter where, so long as we had each other..."
Suddenly, Milton's face turned stony. "It's that girl, isn't it," he said flatly, spitting the word 'girl' out ferociously as if it were the bitterest poison. "She's gotten you soft, hasn't she? You've grown attached to her. And that blasted Swablu. I'm no longer the only significant one in your life, am I? You've forsaken me for the shallow pleasures of mediocrity? "
Diego, hoping to bring his old master back, hoping to revive the man he once loved, shook his head furiously. He began to write in the sky, "No, old friend, you are so terribly dear-" when Milton slapped him hard, across the face. Diego toppled backwards alongside the chair at the surprising amount of force the thin man had, and by extension toppled over a glass and wood cabinet on which a couple candles had been lit. The fire crept slowly onto the hardwood, as if suddenly timid by the prospect of freedom from its earlier confinement of wicker and wax.
Milton stepped back, somewhat horrified. "I-... I'm sorry, Diego. I don't know what got into me." He reached out as if to gently help the Smeargle up, as if to gently rub the offending slap away from the Smeargle's face, but he suddenly drew back. "No," he said, a maniacal light suddenly taking light in his expression, just as the candle fires took possession of the small cabinet. "No, I can make amends, still! Don't worry, Diego. I'll remove the obstacles," Milton laughed, relieved, having found his answer to his heart's troubles. "I'll eradicate what is between you and I, that monstrosity of mediocrity. And then we will be together again, for all eternity, finding the little beauties all over, just like before! Just like before! Before my face became like this --" Milton threw off the mask that obscured half his face earlier; it was grotesque, twisted not only by the gnarled skin but also the flickering shadows of the growing fire, which was extending towards its enslaved brother in the fireplace. "Before human life became so frivolous, so irrelevant! You know... there is one thing I have not yet done, have not felt. I have not yet had the feeling of taking another's life!" Milton laughed. Diego turned pale in the light of the fire, in part due to his knowledge now that the kind master he once knew was gone, long dead, and now his body wanted to take the rest of them with him, but mostly in part that M.A., having heard the ruckus, had come sleepily down the stairs and was watching, horrified, as fire leapt across the great room, as Milton's grotesque face -- not only where he was burnt, but where his expression curled in a menacing snarl -- turned to her.
"And the guest of honor has come!"
[behold, a novel! hopefully not too discordant, wanted to see if brain juices still ran this late/this early]
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 8:56 am
Kasiya smiled lightly as Mike rushed over to her and began to gently clean her knees, which she was sure would hurt later, but right now she felt nothing but relief, as for a fleeting moment, the green eyes that looked up at her (even though shimmering with strange, orange tears) were those of the Mike she knew and adored. She blinked back tears of her own and was only able to manage a feeble nod, as her voice had gotten lost somewhere within the last few moments. She continued to cling to Camarae, occasionally looking down at the young Omanyte with a sweet smile. She didn't know why, but she felt strangely drawn to the little guy. "That's what friends are for," she replied finally, her voice barely above a hushed whisper.
She took a step forward and watched curiously as Mike and Keegan spoke, though now that she was paying attention, she could definitely tell that these two had known each other for the better part of their lives. They may not have been on the best of terms but she sensed that a spark of their previous friendship still remained, and perhaps after putting all of this to rest, they'd be able to be friends again. That would take a load of stress off, she thought, even though she couldn't help but be a little bit scared of what the two Lavaridge boys were capable of. With Keegan's violent and volatile temperament and Mike's impulsiveness, she'd hate to be any one of the Team Magma members right now, this Maxie person especially.
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the Omanyte she'd been holding suddenly vanished in a flash of red light, though it took a few moments for her to realize he'd been recalled. "Oh, no, he was no trouble at all," she said. "In fact he's quite well-behaved. I love him, he's so adorable." She looked up as Nitro had suddenly appeared, and she smiled at the sight of the large dragon. "Nitro!" she giggled, rushing over to the Charizard and throwing her arms around him, now realizing that Mike had wanted her to come with him. "Oh, of course," she said, climbing up on the Charizard's back, making a mental note to thank Blaine for his hospitality later, as Nitro had taken off before she'd gotten a chance to do so now. I don't know how I'll be able to sleep though, she thought as she, Mike and Nitro flew towards the volcano's summit.
=-=-=-=-=
"Ice-types, I see," Karrigan shook her head lightly, and looked down at Zaira, who was staring with wide, yellow eyes as the Porygon appeared before them. A Virtual Pokemon must be convenient, she thought, thinking back to Ven's comment. Sure, she loved Ice-type Pokemon and they were easily her favourites, but that didn't mean she would fill her entire team with them, even though she liked the thought of adding a Dewgong to her team. Their fur was so velvety smooth and soft and they were very good-natured creatures, so she made a mental note to try and find out more about where they and their pre-evolved form, Seel, could be found.
Ikouma, meanwhile, had let out a sort of annoyed sound though it was muffled by the sticky threads that were now covering his face. The feather on his head twitched ever so slightly as he reached up with his claws, both of which were glowing with a pale, icy blue aura. The sticky webbing quickly frosted over and turned solid, making it easily removable, and the Sneasel shot a death-glare up at the Beedrill that was undoubtedly laughing its buzzy little head off right now.
Aegeus shook his head sadly, his expression reading something along the lines of 'oh boy here we go again' and the Onix moved out of the way to give the two Pokemon some room, as he knew there was no way that Ikouma would let this injustice go unpunished. Karrigan stood up as well, Zaira nestled in her arms as she surveyed the situation. She knew as well as Aegeus did that once Ikouma felt his pride had been damaged, he'd relentlessly work to remedy that. "Is Callistra up for a battle?" Karrigan asked Venerax, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. She glanced over at the purple-haired young man and smiled, a little more warmly this time.
=-=-=-=-=
Turtwig felt a little bit relieved now that Bidoof's attention was focused on him instead of Jake, even though he really wasn't in the mood for fighting. He wouldn't get much of a chance to dwell on it though, as suddenly the beaver-like Pokemon was rushing at him again, snarling as viciously as she could. Turtwig quickly realized that her rash and thoughtless attacks would be easy to avoid, and he idly wondered if he could simply tired her out by dodging everything she threw at him. He'd also looked back at Jake as he declared that he would try to capture this Bidoof, and the Tiny Leaf Pokemon shook his head. Couldn't they go for something a little less crazy, like a gentle-natured Starly? But no, it was evident that Jake's mind was made up as he called for a Tackle attack from him.
We're gonna regret this, I know it, Turtwig thought as he dashed forward, gritting his teeth as he thrust his weight into the Plump Mouse Pokemon, sending them both skidding across the ground. Bidoof gave a pained squeak and tucked herself into a ball, her whole body giving a bright green shimmer as her defenses increased - Defense Curl. Both Jake and Turtwig noticed this glow was more intense than when Turtwig used his own defense-increasing move, Withdraw, but the boy would look it up later. Right now, he was eagerly awaiting that sweet, yet crucial moment when the Pokemon was weakened enough for the Pokeball to work its magic.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 9:07 am
Crenu had wanted to say something the entire night, watching Riza watch him the entire time made it even harder. She knew something was off, he didn't know how she knew but he could tell by the way he looked at him. He wasn't sure how he knew either, maybe he was just being paranoid or maybe it was something more. Whatever the case, the entire night Crenu got the feeling Riza could see though him and that she was getting upset. Not like before though, she wasn't mad at him...but she was upset and his silence was the cause. It should have been a simple fix, all he had to do was speak. Say anything, strike up a conversation and let her know what was going on in his mind. Yet every time he tried, Crenu could say nothing. What could he say? He wasn't even sure himself just what he thought, what he wanted. Crenu was torn between what welled up inside him from that kiss and the thought of death in his mind. Once again he was afraid that she would get hurt or worse, now that he was actually close to him, important to him, he was sure he would hurt her. Something would happen, something he wouldn't be able to prevent...something he wouldn't be strong enough for. But then again...what did she say to him? Share his burden...let her worry and care...but could he? Could he trust her with what was inside? Or would she just end up hurt faster? Could he tell her what really troubled him? Crenu continued to ponder this all the way back to the center, not even fully there when Riza kissed him good night. Once in his room Crenu stood in front of the mirror above the sink, staring at himself. "..." What the hell was wrong with him? Riza was upset, probably blamed herself for it...damn it. He was pathetic. The words of his ghosts buzzed around in his mind and Riza's sad face was clear in his mind. Anger and disappointment rose and boiled, his mind buzzing to impossible levels. It was to much! Crenu couldn't stand the sight of himself, he was making himself sick! Things went blank for a second, a bright flash in his mind, and when he regained his senses Crenu felt a sharp pain as the loud sound of shattering glass hitting the sink echoed in his ear. The mirror was totaled, and the sink was full of glass and blood. Crenu' fist remained outstretched and resting where the mirror had once been, shards of glass sticking out of his left hand. "...damn. That was my only good hand." Crenu spent the rest of the night picking out the glass from his hand and dressing the wound, bandaging up his ex good hand and cleaning up the glass and blood. He got very little sleep that night.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 9:29 am
Seeing as how he hadn't ventured very far out in the first place, it didn't take Leon very long to return to Rustboro. Soon he was at the PokéCenter's front desk, handing Ghos and Muuma's PokéBalls to Nurse Joy so she could heal them. It was pretty quick, as neither had fainted and there had been no serious injuries, so very shortly after arriving Leon was ready to leave again. As he stepped outside of the Center, he debated whether he should go back for one or two more battles or not. Muuma was more than ready to take on Roxanne, but Leon was fairly certain she couldn't do it by herself, and Ghos seemed like he still needed a little more work to be of any great help in the battle. Sure, he had Hypnosis on his side, but the accuracy of the attack wasn't exactly the most reliable, and Leon couldn't ride the entire hope of winning the battle on whether or not one move worked, so he began to head back down the dock, hoping that with only a few more battles Ghos would be ready to help him attain his first badge.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 10:10 am
Roark watched the other girl across from him and shook his head. This girl just didn't get it, of course you could come into a gym with higher pokemon and steam roll over all of them. However no one really did that because they usually had trainers pride. How this girl, the daughter of Crusher Wake, have no pride as a trainer was astonishing. Most trainers would not even consider this kind of battle an option because lets face it, they couldn't really call it a win if it was handicapped so much in one persons favor. Just like an experienced trainer did not go around challenging the starter trainers for money. Of course Roark was no starting trainers, he had all of Sinnohs gym badges and he had earned them. It was unfortunately part of his job as gym leader to be disrespected like this on the occasional basis.
Underground Onix was busy setting up the tunnels system so that he could use them against the annoying grass pokemon above him. Without waiting for anything the powerful pokemon launched itself from directly below the Tangela. If it had been any other pokemon they would have missed their mark but not this Onix. This Onix could follow even the slightest vibrations in the ground, finding his prey was as easy as it was for most trainers to look across the battlefield and spot the Tangela.
Roark waited patiently for his pokemon to finish up his underground system. In all honesty the pokemon that would probably use this was Cranidos, his brave Onix was probably not going to make it through after this attack. Still he would reward his pokemon heavily for this. They always put up with these kinds of battles with a good nature. When his pokemon sprung up from the ground he felt a wave of pride towards the large rock snake pokemon.
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Melphaligal the Challama Crew
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 10:29 am
As he walked, Leon hoped that he wouldn't run into another pair of annoying double battlers. He wanted to focus training on Ghos for now, and though double battling meant that both of his Pokémon would gain experience, they hadn't been together long enough to be able to work together so great like that, and Ghos needed to catch up to Muuma power wise--and maturity wise, for that matter. Though Muuma still liked to run around and scare people, Ghos was more likely to run off a little too far, or disobey Leon, and he couldn't have that.
As he entered the dock, Leon saw that it had emptied a bit. There were only a few people left fishing or sitting on the edge of it, and even a couple of people swimming. As he passed a man that was fishing, Leon was suddenly hit with a fishing pole. He turned quickly to face the man, who was looking sadly as something swam away.
The man turned to face Leon and said angrily, "You made me lose my catch! It might've actually been something good this time, too!"
"It's not my fault you weren't paying enough attention," Leon responded bluntly, not phased at all by the man's anger. The man seethed and pulled out a PokéBall, and though he seemed rather annoying, it was still good that he'd found a battle, and almost on cue Leon pulled out a PokéBall as well, and both trainers released their Pokémon.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 11:05 am
Leon simply stared as a Magikarp appeared in front of the fisherman, as he wondered if the man was really going to try to battle him with it. This was quickly confirmed as the man ordered a Splash attack, which was basically just a pathetic flopping by the poor Magikarp, as it wasn't even in the water so that it could throw some water around.
"Use Lick," Leon commanded Ghos, who flew over to the fish and licked the Pokémon. It flopped around a bit, trying to get away, but really to no avail. It already looked pretty darn worn down after only being hit by one attack, and it's next Splash attempt was just depressing to say the least, as it barely moved at all. "Put it out of it's misery…" Leon said, wondering how this even counted as a battle. Ghos had barely used his Lick attack again before the Magikarp was out cold, and looking brokenhearted, the fisherman returned his Pokémon.
"Well, you're a decent opponent, I'll give you that," The fisherman said. "But once he evolves, that Pokémon'll be nothing to laugh at!"
"Okay," Leon said with aboslutely no interest in his voice as he returned Ghos and began to walk away. The man said something in an attempt to get Leon to stop, but Leon ignored him and continued walking back up the dock, wondering if all the fisherman on this dock were that pathetic. Really, a decent opponent? He'd wiped the floor with that guy, and then some! Oh well. The man could think of highly of himself as he liked, Leon really didn't care. As lame as that had been, at least Ghos had gotten a little experience out of it.
Leon walked off the dock and over to a tree, leaning with his back against it as he decided whether or not to go after another trainer or not. He could always challenge someone else on the bridge, or go back to the woods and fight a couple of wild Pokémon there, though those didn't present much of a challenge. Either way, he still wanted Ghos to get just a bit more training before he went up against Roxanne.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 11:45 am
Sam started to jog through the Gym, not making enough effort to avoid bumps in the ground or wait for Miharu. She tripped a few times, but never fell. She wandered through the Gym, slipping through gaps in the bushes and trees, making her way to the center to find Bugsy. She finally walked into a clearing that seemed to be a place where battles would take place.
She spun around on the spot, scanning for the young Gym Leader.
"Hey! Is Bugsy here? Bugsy, I'm here to challenge you!" As she spun on the spot, she tripped over her own feet, and fell to the ground. "Ouch...That hurt." She glanced at the palms of her hands, which were now scraped up. She stood back up, the excitement and hyperness leaving, being replaced by anxiety and a stinging pain. She clenched her hands tightly, ignoring the pain, and breathed deeply. "Bugsy?" she said, her throat too closed off to yell anymore.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 11:52 am
Jett Forrest had resumed pacing, now in the habit of allowing his Pokemon out for a while but recalling them when they started to suffer from the utter boredom of it all.
The trainer had managed his way back to the familiar bridge, grumbling as he continued forward, ever unsure of what to do or where to go. I guess I can go back in that horrible forest and fight some st--
Splat!
There was a shriek from Jett's immediate left.
He turned, coming face to face with a red trainer who, for some reason, remained rooted in her spot by the bridge. She was wearing a green dress with a large splatter of mud on the front.
"...Oh hey, you got mud on your dress," Jett said, looking back up to the woman's eyes.
"..." The woman retrieved a Pokeball as fury clouded her blue eyes. "And how exactly do you think the mud got there?"
"..." Jett swallowed thickly and glanced down to his sneakers. Sure enough, he was in a puddle of the stuff, shoes coated with it. Perhaps he had stomped on the mud in his frustration of figuring out what to do--
"Apologize at once!"
"...I guess I'm sorry," Jett said, blinking, "but it was kinda an accident...? I mean, if you're gonna be a trainer, you kind of have to get used to this kinda thing." That, unfortunately, was not what the woman wanted to hear.
"Oh, you'll make it up to me," she growled, taking a gentle step back. "My name is Lily! I don't care who you are, I just want to know if you'll have enough money when I beat you!" Jett nodded, still confused as to what he had done. "All right! Let's battle, you rude little boy!"
"...'Kay."
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 12:07 pm
"How many Pokemon do you have?" Jett asked, reaching for Aerosmith's Pokeball.
"One," Lily replied fiercely, hurling her lone Pokeball into the air. "Go, Zigzagoon!" The Tinyraccoon Pokemon emerged with one of those really weird growls that Jett didn't like, and he had flashbacks of fighting Justin.
"Aerosmith, it's all you," Jett grinned, releasing his fierce Beautifly. He had guessed that River was still a higher level, so he might as well get his newest member up, too. "Ladies first."
"Sand Attack!" Lily cried, and her Zigzagoon sprung to life. His paws scratched furiously into the dirt, releasing a heavy cloud of dust that would no doubt cloud Aerosmith's vision. Jett recalled the Sandstorm Roxanne had used and waved off the Sand Attack with a serene smile.
"Use Gust, blow it all back!" Aerosmith flapped his wings, creating a heavy flurry of dirt and sand that no doubt affected the Normal-type. There was that same cry which Jett couldn't describe, but he merely had an extreme dislike for it. "Good!"
"Use that move I taught you! Cut!" The silhouette emerged in the dust emerged, tail glowing. Aerosmith blinked. Why the tail? What was going to ha--
Zigzagoon turned at the last moment, tail slashing Aerosmith across the chest. He let out an irritated "Fly!" and drifted back.
"Shake it off," Jett said, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Use Absorb!" Aerosmith swooped forward, mouth unfurling as Zigzagoon glowed a bright shade of green.
"Beautifly," Aerosmith snorted as several orbs flew from the Tinyraccoon. As the attack ended, he began to fly higher and higher, trying to keep out of range.
"Tail Whip!" Lily called, growing frustrated by the battle already. So, Zigzagoon chased his own tail, and Aerosmith felt himself reluctantly lowering his defenses. He really hated tricks like that!
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