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Post by Pikafan on Feb 27, 2007 6:50:02 GMT -5
Cool. Can't wait. Remember, always start a new page with a new chapter
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Post by sandragon13 on Mar 5, 2007 15:11:39 GMT -5
New chapter, I'm back from the dead!
Chapter 15 – All Over Again
The first week continued much as it had begun; the trainers grasping the concept of the routine. For the next three days, the seventeen trainers, some more begrudgingly than others, attended their classes and learned the ropes of their mission. As the group entered Coach Ratliff’s facility on Friday afternoon, the greatest expectations of some coincided with the worst fears of others. Today, the bald man said, they were to start their formal battle training.
“Today,” Coach began, standing before the group under the overhead lights, “you will begin your transformation into Pokemon battlers capable of undertaking this great task. As you may or may not be aware, I am a former competitive Pokemon trainer. I have reached the Elite 8 or better in Kanto, Hoenn, and Johto’s Pokemon League tournaments. With my Pokemon by my side, I have dedicated my life to understanding the complexities of battle. Now it is my task to pass my knowledge and experience on to you. At this time I ask that you each call out your Pokemon partners and align them as you did during the introductory dinner.” The trainers each rose and stood side by side on the boundary of the battlefield. Some spoke softly to each other, others silently followed the command, withdrawing Pokeballs from their bags and belts as they did so. Moments later they were joined by their seventeen partners, materializing before each of them in an electric red flash of light. “A Pokemon is an entity unto itself, separate from its trainer, but at the same time you and your partner are one, united. This concept is one that trainers often find difficult to grasp. Your Pokemon are capable of free will, they have their own mannerisms and tendencies that make them unique. They are, at the same time, influenced by their trainer’s nature, which also has a hand in shaping who they are.”
“This first exercise will help to show who each of you are, and who each of your Pokemon are. For the next hour, I’m going to give you all, both trainer and Pokemon, free roam in this room. You are all free to do as you wish, talk, whatever. The only thing is that you may not communicate with your Pokemon. In their trainer’s absence, your Pokemon’s true nature may become more evident than you’ve ever seen. From what I observe in the actions of your Pokemon and of you trainers, I can better establish how to teach you the techniques of battle. So now, trainers, go off and do what you want, just stay in this room. Pokemon, you may do as you desire as well, but stay within these four walls.”
Slowly, the large group of Pokemon began to disperse around the room, their human companions doing the same. Spirit, Amy’s Taillow, took to air and flapped about, beneath the high ceiling. Ed’s Mankey, Twitch, seemed to be flexing its muscles in front of Evelyn’s Mareep, Rie, and Ashley’s Vulpix, named Mystic. Del’s Geodude, Slate, practiced its Rock Throw technique, hurling boulders from a pile in the corner, while Blade, Trevor’s Sandshrew, James’ Bagon, Rush, and Chrome, Vince’s Aron, smashed them in mid-air with their attacks. Nathan’s Spinarak, named Arich, had built a web along one wall, while Roots the Bellsprout and Kenji, Oliver’s Gulpin, watched . Princess, Courtney’s Skitty, took to one of the elevated trainer boxes, overlooking the others with a disinterested expression. Summer’s Krabby, Flow, walked in its sideways fashion back and forth around the arena, wandering aimlessly, as did Tusk, Alex’s Swinub. Hiding behind a large rock, Mary, Megan’s Ralts, looked plaintively toward her human counterpart, who was also sitting alone, watching the scene unfold. In a shadowy corner not far from her own trainer, Fallen, Vanessa’s Shuppet, hovered silently, and on a steel rafter high above the battlefield, Shadow the Murkrow perched, glaring down on the other trainers and Pokemon.
The trainers, like their Pokemon, seemed to form into small groups, sitting with friends and chatting quietly. Ashley, Evelyn, Amy, and Summer sat together, the four girls discussing their and their Pokemons’ pasts. Off to the side, Megan watched the four, conflicted emotion in her eyes. Just as their Pokemon had, Brian, Oliver, and Nathan sat together, discussing interests. James sat near Del and Ed, who were talking about working out in the gym over the weekend, while Vince looked on nearby. The dark-haired trainer glanced towards the battlefield and watched Chrome carefully, knowing that, like himself, Chrome’s short temper could make him lash out at the other Pokemon. The Aron had to be tough, growing up as a rogue in the streets of Olivine City. Near the top of the stadium seats, Courtney sat typing text messages on her pink-plated cell phone. The blonde-haired girl wore an expression of sheer boredom, rose-colored nails tapping on the illuminated silver buttons. To her left, Alex absentmindedly tossed a tennis ball into the air, catching it as it fell. On her right, Trevor watched as Blade executed a particularly potent Scratch attack, shattering a melon-sized stone with a single strike. All of our training will pay off, he thought to himself, as the Sandshrew leapt into the air for another attack.
In a far corner, Chester sat back in a chair, headphones over his ears and eyes closed. Looking out over the various Pokemon, he spotted his dark-type partner on a high rafter, leering down on the others as usual. “If only everybody could understa…” His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a presence near him. Glancing around, he saw Vanessa settle lightly into a seat near him. The fair-skinned girl watched the Pokemon in silence, glancing upward and spotting her Shuppet floating near the ceiling in a dark crevasse. Chester thought back to the conversation the two had shared atop the Ironspine Ridge, as the moon rose from the beyond the desert. What might she have told him if they hadn’t been interrupted? There was so much he wanted to know…so many questions. He shifted in his chair, closing his eyes once more and immersing himself in thought. Vanessa watched as the dark-haired boy slumped into the seat, his back to her, and unsure how she should feel.
After class was over, the trainers moved en masse to their rooms, relieved and ready to enjoy their first weekend at the academy. Courtney had fallen asleep in her seat in the stands, and Alex and Trevor had moved to the front row, several seats from one another, while their Pokemon stood before them. The two young men shot glances at each other, locked in an unspoken competition for Courtney’s attention. “You know,” said Alex as he bent to tie his shoe, “you don’t have a shot with her. She totally likes me more.” At this, Trevor turned angrily, standing before the young man. “Are you kidding?! Dude, she knows you’re weaker than me!” he snapped back, face contorted into a scowl. “I’ll prove it to you!” he shouted, snapping a Pokeball from his belt. Alex did the same, holding the crimson-and-white sphere in his hand, staring heatedly at the silver-haired young man. “If it’s a battle you want, you got it!” he shouted. “Go, Tusk!” The ball opened and revealed a Swinub, which exhaled a small snowy gust from its piglike nose. The fur on the Pokemon’s domed back began to bristle, and it began to snort angrily. “Fine, go Blade! Let’s go!” Trevor’s pokeball opened, exposing an armor-plated Sandshrew. The mouse Pokemon’s large brownish-black eyes narrowed at the sight of its trainer’s rival, as it took a defensive stance opposite the Swinub. “Are you sure you really want this?” Trevor asked brashly, waving a lock of hair from his face. “Oh yeah?” Alex shouted back. “Go Tusk, Tackle attack!” Obeying its trainer’s command, the Ice-type took off at a loping run, gaining speed as it approached the Sandshrew. “Blade, jump and dodge, then use Sand-Attack when you land!” commanded Trevor, spurring the mouse Pokemon into action. The Sandshrew was barely able to dodge the attack as Tusk charged straight into the spot where Blade had stood moments ago. “Tusk, use Powder Snow! Hit it in the air!” “Blade, Defense Curl!” The Swinub whirled around with surprising speed and exhaled a large cloud of cold air, intermingled with snowflakes and ice particles. The icy attack glimmered in the air as it swept toward the airborne Sandshrew. Blade, hearing Trevor’s command, coiled into a tight, armored ball, protecting its body and face from the brunt of the attack. Taking a super-effective attack from the Powder Snow, the rolled-up Sandshrew fell to the ground, but suddenly charged forward, rolling like a ball over the smooth earth of the battlefield. “Blade, Crush Claw now!” A few feet from Tusk, the Sandshrew suddenly unrolled and, in one fluid motion, leapt into the air, one glowing claw held high. “Tusk, look out!” shouted Alex, seeing his opponent’s strategy unfold before him. “That’s enough!” yelled a new voice, this one deeper and louder, echoing through the empty arena. In the same instant, a flash appeared between the two battling Pokemon, instantly immobilizing them in mid-air. Though there appeared to be nothing between the two Pokemon mere moments before, both trainers became aware of a presence on the battlefield. A dark brown Pokemon with white markings hovered down from the ceiling, its array of eight eyes glowing a bright blue. Both of the young men identified the Pokemon as a Claydol, a Psychic and Ground-type Pokemon of the ancient world. This one seemed to be utilizing its Psychic abilities to immobilize the two battling Pokemon, each frozen in mid-attack by the telekinetic force. The sound of a door shutting, suddenly jarred their attention to a side wall, where they saw Coach Ratliff striding toward them, a look of anger on his face. “What were you two doing, holding an unsupervised battle down here? You could have hurt your Pokemon, or just as bad, yourselves! In a moment, I’ll have my Claydol release your Pokemon, so that you can recall them. The three of us need to have a little chat.” With that, he nodded to the clay doll Pokemon, which released its telekinetic hold on the two battling Pokemon. Both Tusk and Blade slumped to the ground from the sudden release. “Return, Tusk,” withdrawing the Swinub back into its pokeball. “Come on back, Blade,” said Trevor, doing the same and snapping back onto the clip on his belt.
“I don’t know what this was all about,” said Coach, his voice stern, “but I’m sure it wasn’t something worth battling over. What the two of you have to realize is that you’re both here for the same reason, and we can’t risk you injuring your Pokemon in an unsupervised battle. Battling, especially without the proper experience and training, can be a very dangerous business. Remember that they are not just your partners, they are the only Pokemon on the planet that can stop the space menace. All seventeen of you, trainers and your Pokemon, need to complete your training before it arrives, regardless of what you think is important now. We have apprentice battle judges if you want to have a practice battle, just see me in my office,” he said as he motioned towards a set of double doors through which he had entered. “The two of you need to learn discipline, how to control your emotions. And believe me, you will.” The bald man snapped a Pokeball from his belt and withdrew the Claydol as it hovered by his side. “Now you two, take the two side stairwells out of here and back to your rooms, cool off, and don’t try a stunt like this again.” With that, Coach turned and walked back through the metal doors, bald head gleaming under the arena lights. The two boys made one final glare at each other before entering their respective stairwells. They both silently blamed the other for starting the battle, and that this was only the beginning.
A rumor spread around the tables that night at dinner, hushed whispers that next week will mark the beginning of situational battling in Coach’s class. Some trainers looked forward to battling, to test their strength, others anticipated a slow, agonizing week of forced conflict they had no desire to undertake. Professor Fisk had introduced them this week to the concept of type advantage and reviewed the table on the wall, which showed each battling type and its strengths and weaknesses. Soon real Pokemon, many of them belonging to the professor, would be included in the lectures and labs to illustrate this concept. Ms. Lockhart had spent the week introducing them to the various tools and equipment that stocked the infirmary and recovery annexes. Professor Preston was outlining the cities, towns, and landmarks of Otaru, giving interesting facts about each as he moved along. The first week had gone smoothly and rather quickly, the trainers said over their chicken caesar salads and pizza slices, maybe it won’t be so bad here at the Academy. By each trainer’s side on the floor, their Pokemon ate, some more quietly than others. Ed’s Mankey, Twitch, stood and rapped its empty food bowl onto the table in front of its trainer, a satisfied look in its eyes. Amy whispered to Evelyn, who was sitting next to her, “I wonder how it does that?”, drawing a stifled giggle from the blonde-haired girl. At another table, James and Vince sat at opposite ends and sides, their Pokemon doing the same. James turned and watched his Bagon eating, taking huge mouthfuls of food and chomping loudly, sending crushed bits falling back into the bowl. The dragon Pokemon sensed that he was being watched and glanced upwards at the mohawk-wearing boy, smiling a toothy grin dotted with bits of food. That’s the spirit, Rush, he thought to himself, we’ll all see your power soon enough. Next week will be a good week… -sandragon13
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Post by Pikafan on Mar 5, 2007 16:53:22 GMT -5
lol, they were fighting over a girl. A lot of people do that.
The coach has a Claydol? Cool.
I'm thinking of making my own fic...
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Post by sandragon13 on Mar 31, 2007 14:03:49 GMT -5
Chapter 16 – Thrashmaster
“Magneton, Thunderbolt!” came the command from Mr. Fisk, into the microphone on his desk. The trainers watched eagerly from their seats, watching the magnet Pokemon through the transparent wall. The Magneton’s three inorganic eyes narrowed to a focused glare, as a charge quickly began to build on each of its magnetlike appendages. In mere seconds, a large current of yellowish-white electricity surged from the Pokemon, arcing through the room and connecting with a metal bulb at the far end. Though the attack was safely behind panes of thick, protective plastic, the class could see the flow of raw electricity with brutal detail. After a few seconds at full strength, Magneton’s attack thinned and flickered out, the metal receiver still crackling and sparking at the far end of the room. “As you can see, class,” said the bespectacled teacher, motioning toward the boxed-in Magneton, “electrical attacks such as Thunderbolt are powerful abilities for those Pokemon able to wield them correctly. However, they also are more difficult to use than some other attacks, due to the nature of the attack. Electrical current, as you know, is the flow of electricity from a place of higher concentration to one of lower concentration. Therefore, the greater the difference in electrical charge between the source and the target, the stronger the current, and the attack, will be. Because of this, electric-typed Pokemon are able to use these types of attacks with greater ease due to the high levels of ambient electricity that are kept in their bodies. This doesn’t mean, however, that they first don’t need to “charge up”, if you will, by collecting ions from the air around them to increase the difference between themselves and their target. You may have observed Magneton collecting energy around its magnets before it was able to launch the attack; it was in fact gathering ions from the atmosphere to create its charge.” The bell, or rather a vaguely musical tone, sounded, signifying the end of class. The students collected their notebooks and stuffed them into backpacks and bags. Over the noise, Professor Fisk told the class that tomorrow they’d be discussing physical Electric attacks. The group filed out of the gleaming white-and-steel lab, traveling in several small groups through the stony, flame-lit corridor. To their left the great expanse of the Annex yawned before them, several floors down and even more above their heads. As they walked the right side of the giant black statue faced them, dominating the center of the room. The fierce gaze on its face nearly made one forget that it was a statue, as it stood on its pedestal, reflecting the fiery torches that glowed before it. Casually they made their way downstairs toward the infirmary, where Ms. Lockhart and her Pokemon awaited their arrival for class. “This week’s classes,” began the pink-haired young woman, picking up a box of tools from her desk, “will be spent learning how to groom your Pokemon. Like people, Pokemon must be well-kept, clean, and cared for. In their natural habitats, wild Pokemon will use the methods and objects at their disposal to keep themselves in prime form. Domestic Pokemon such as yours rely on their trainers for maintenance, no longer able to sharpen their claws on a log or bathe in a river when the desire strikes them. It is important to keep your Pokemon in top form by grooming them, performing the tasks that will keep them happy and healthy. The needs of each Pokemon species are different, sometimes changing even as they evolve.” At this, Professor Lockhart stood and took a shoebox-sized plastic container from atop her desk and held it before her. “Inside this box is an example of some of the tools used in the grooming of various Pokemon species. After we get acquainted with the tools, I’ll demonstrate the first of the five grooming disciplines.” Removing a small Pokeball from her hip, she pressed the button and enlarged it in her hand. “Go, Sonia!” With a flash, a shape materialized on the front table. Standing on four slender legs, the form lengthened into a lithe, light-purple body and a long tail with a forked tip. The head bore two fringed ears, large eyes, and a glistening red gem in the center of the forehead. The Pokemon stood nobly before her trainer, tail shifting gently. “This is Sonia, my Espeon,” she said, stroking the psychic Pokemon beneath its chin. “When Sonia was an Eevee, she and I developed a close and personal bond, partly from the unique trainer-Pokemon contact that we gained through grooming. You see, Eevee only become Espeon when they reach a state of absolute happiness with their trainer. Sonia belongs to the first of the five grooming disciplines, the short-fur class. Espeon, like many other species, are covered with a fine coat of soft fur that serves many purposes, including temperature control, camouflage, and markings of status. A gentle brushing with a medium-toothed brush is recommended, as Pokemon in this class occasionally develop knots or clumping in their fur. This knotting is known to cause discomfort and hamper movement, a decided disadvantage, especially in battle.”
“Does anybody here have a partner they believe falls into this first category?” “I think I might,” said Ashley, raising her hand high, “I have a Vulpix.” “You’re right!” said Ms. Lockhart with a smile, “a Vulpix falls into two categories, this one as well as Class 2, the long-fur class. Why don’t you come up here and continue brushing Sonia for me, while I explain the other categories.” Ashley stood, taking the wooden-handled brush from the professor’s hand, and began to gently comb the Sun Pokemon’s back. “The second category, as I mentioned, is the Long-Fur class. Pokemon from this group have a greater mass of hair than members of any of the other classes, which enables them to protect the flesh beneath the coat, provide resistance to extreme cold, and make the Pokemon look larger and more imposing to enemies. They require more frequent grooming to protect against knotting and to remove debris that might get stuck in the fur.” She withdrew from the box a handheld brush with an array of long plastic teeth. “Using a long-toothed brush like this one should do the trick. Are there any trainers who believe that their partners fall into this category?” After a moment of silence, Alex raised his hand grudgingly. “My partner’s a Swinub, does that count?” “It does indeed,” said Ms. Lockhart, waving the young man forward. “Would you mind releasing it for the class, so that we may observe the technique?” Alex adjusted his beanie and strode to the front of the class, sending out his Swinub as he did so. The pig Pokemon shuffled as the brush was applied, gradually calming under the repeating strokes. “It looks like he likes it!” exclaimed the pink-haired woman. “The third category is the shell class, which includes all Pokemon with hard nonmineral body armor, thick skin, or exoskeletons. Both rough- and smooth-skinned Pokemon from this group don’t suffer from tangled fur, rather, the presence of dust and dirt on the body. These can eventually result in infections from the masking of injury, which are not sensed due to the tough skin. Pokemon from this category tend to prefer a wipe-down with a moist cloth, or in the case of hydrophobic Pokemon, a dry one. Do we have any volunteers for this example?” “I do,” said Nathan, extending his hand in the air. “Sure, come on up,” said the professor, “what species is your partner?” “He’s a Spinarak,” commented the lanky boy , releasing the spiderlike Pokemon onto the front table next to the Swinub. “Ah, I see. He’ll enjoy a gentle rubdown with this damp cloth,” she said, handing the soft towel to Nathan.
“The fourth discipline of grooming is the Flesh category, which contains the large majority of Pokemon species. The Flesh class contains species that bear some kind of skin or flesh, including plant-based Pokemon and those covered with scales or feathers. Grass-types will grow very fond of the use of a wet towel, as it removes dirt and grime from their body, aiding in their use of photosynthesis. It also moisturizes their body, keeping them well-hydrated. Birdlike Pokemon must be treated especially carefully, as their feathers serve a variety of functions, not the least of which is flight, and can be easily damaged. A gentle washing with a moist cloth will often do the trick, being sure to be wary of sore spots or injuries. Would anyone like to volunteer?” James stood, a confident sneer on his face. “I can do this one,” he said, snapping his pokeball off of his belt. “Go, Rush!” The Bagon materialized atop the table, flashing its toothy grin as it did so. James grabbed a moist rag and began to groom the Dragon type. “Very good, James. We’ll now move on to the final grooming group, the Mineral class.
“Mineral Pokemon include many Rock, Ground, and Steel-type Pokemon, as well as some others. Though their bodies may seem inorganic, many are in fact clad in living armor which is derived from the mineral content they consume. Because much of it is organic, living flesh, it be treated with more care than may be apparent. As many rock- and ground- type Pokemon are damaged by contact with water, it is advised that such Pokemon are cleaned with a dry, harsh-textured cloth or rag. Steel-types with smooth metallic surfaces can be wiped with a soft cloth. Any volunteers?” Del stood and said “I’ll do it, Professor.” Sending out Slate, he began to scrub the Geodude with a rough cloth.
A short time later class ended and the students emptied into the hall. “You know what’s next,” Evelyn said to Ashley as the trainers made their way downstairs, “battle practice.” “I think it’ll be fun,” said Ashley brightly, her thoughts wandering to the Pokeball in the drawstring bag on her shoulder. “I wonder how Coach Ratliff is going to start our battle training…what do you think, Summer?” The blonde-haired girl shrugged, adjusting her bag. “I hope he doesn’t have us fighting each other, that would be totally un-cool.” “Seriously,” said Amy, catching up to the girls from behind. “I wonder how our Pokemon will handle being able to battle.” “Remember Ed’s Mankey while we were in the jungle?” asked Ashley. “It sure seemed strong, I hope I don’t have to battle against it.” “I’m looking forward to it,” said Amy quietly, to herself.
An air of anticipation mingled with uneasiness filled the room as the students filed into the stadium seats next to the battlefield. The lights above their heads no longer illuminated the quadrant of the seats where they assembled for class. Instead, the large, intensely bright lights mounted on the ceiling above the battlefield, effectively banishing the darkness from a large portion of the large room. With a bang the doors on the far side of the room opened, and Coach Ratliff entered. Under one arm he held a plastic container the size of a shoebox. Beneath the other he clutched a large figure that resembled a human torso made of a cloth-like material and mounted on stout wooden stand. -sandragon13
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Post by Pikafan on Apr 1, 2007 6:32:07 GMT -5
Oooooo, looks like they have to fight each other! Dum dum dum! XD I wanted an espeon... Good Chapter, Sandragon. Nice Job.
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Post by Totodile PWNs on Apr 3, 2007 21:30:59 GMT -5
Finally caught up. Good chapter sandragon. Wonder what the shoebox has in it.
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Post by sandragon13 on Nov 19, 2007 0:07:02 GMT -5
...Tick Tock...Tick Tock...Tick Tock...Tick Tock... -sandragon13
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Post by Pikafan on Nov 19, 2007 15:34:26 GMT -5
Anything new Sandragon? Or do you have any ideas or anything?
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Post by sandragon13 on Oct 14, 2008 11:19:08 GMT -5
Chapter 17 – Emergence Resurgence
“Spirit, get out of the way! Quick Attack!” shouted Amy, spurring the tiny sparrow Pokemon into action. The Flying type flapped its wings urgently and burst forward, a streak of translucent white vapor trailing behind it as it sped through the narrow window of light. Half a second later, the Geodude’s coiled stone fist struck the earth, mere inches separating the impact from the fleeing bird.
“Excellent, both of you,” said Coach, scribbling on his clipboard. “Del, your Geodude shows quite a lot of speed for its species, but it wasn’t enough to keep up with that Quick Attack. All the same, nicely done.” He looked down at his board again. “Alright, next we have…James and Vince. Gents, take your places.”
James strode confidently down onto the packed-earth battlefield, his shaved head gleaming under the bright lights. At the same time, Vince walked slowly to the far end, his right hand clutching a chipped Pokeball. Coach took his position near the center line dividing the halves of the field, board at the ready. “You may begin when you are ready. Show us what you can do.”
Without hesitation, James raised a sparkling crimson-and-silver ball from his hand, gently throwing it upward and catching it on his extended index finger, the sphere spinning effortlessly on his fingertip. The Dragon-type trainer flashed his signature grin before catching the ball and throwing it onto the field. The two halves parted and released a glowing red form, forming into a somewhat bulky, raptorlike Pokemon. The light-blue Bagon cracked his neck, swinging his armored head side to side, then locking eyes with Vince across the arena, a toothy smile parting his lips. Vince looked at the muscular reptilian pokemon and tossed his own Pokeball forward, the energy inside pouring forth onto the ground. The creature that emerged was plated in metallic armor, a stocky quadruped not unlike a small dinosaur. The Aron settled on the field opposite of Bagon, its icy blue left eye juxtaposed against its blood-red right one.
“Go Rush, charge him! Headbutt!” James shouted, as the Bagon lunged forward with surprising speed. Vince merely shrugged and stated, “Tackle.”
The Aron ran forward to meet the speedier Dragon-type head on, the Rock/Steel monster’s sturdiness negating much of the impact as bone and metal collided. The two Pokemon were forced back an equal distance, both attacks offset. The Bagon growled at Chrome, the Aron glaring intently back at its opponent.
“Go after him, Rush! Send him running with Ember!” James sneered, picking on the steel-type’s weakness. Almost immediately, the light-blue dragon’s maw was brimming with small flames, which it exhaled in a flurry all over the Aron, who was too slow to dodge.
“Chrome, no! Harden! Tackle!” Vince gave his orders, but he knew he was beaten. Chrome weakly tried to charge at the Bagon, who stood just out of reach of the last-ditch lunge, a wide toothy grin on its face. The Aron, its armor blackened and its strength failing, slumped to the ground. Rush, in an act not unlike its brash trainer, placed one foot atop the fallen Steel type, threw its head back, and let out as loud a victory roar as its modest body could muster.
“Let him know who the boss is, Rush.” James said, his trademark smile creeping across his face.
Collecting the remaining embers in its mouth into a single, tiny fireball, Rush spat the flaming mass squarely onto Chrome’s pinned flank, the Aron shrieking in pain. Vince couldn’t believe this overt act; even in this most basic battle exercise, James and his Bagon were showboating. It was more than he could stand.
“Get off of him! Call him back, James!” Vince shouted, striding quickly toward his Aron as Rush took a step back.
“Heh, no way, man,” the mohawked trainer replied with a sneer, walking toward the center of the battlefield toward them. “We won and you lost. Sorry, chump, but that’s how we work.”
Vince took another couple strides toward the tall young man, standing eye-to-eye with him only a few feet separating them. “Yeah? Then I’ll have to show you how I work.”
The black-haired young man strode even closer and shoved James hard, the dragon trainer recoiling a few steps before charging angrily and jostling Vince back. The animosity between the two trainers was escalating quickly, pushes and hands being exchanged at an increasingly rapid pace.
“That’s enough, you two!” shouted Coach, the big man stepping in to separate the angry young men. “You’re both in need of serious work on your personal conduct while in battle. Emotions running high are a feature of most exchanges, but two trainers should never come to blows over the result.”
James took a step back, his smile returned. “It’s cool, sir. I forgive him,” he said in the driest and most mocking tone he could. Vince was still fuming over having been embarrassed in front of everyone by this…purebred Dragon tamer! ‘He wouldn’t know a real fight if it…’, he thought to himself. He turned sharply, away from James and Coach Ratliff, and stormed from the room, the injured Chrome charging after him through the double doors.
Vince did not stop until he had returned to his chambers and slammed the door as soon as Chrome entered behind him. He was furious that his premier battle in front of these other kids was so…pitiful. He hurled his backpack against the far wall, the already damaged pack slumping to the floor with a thud. The young man let out a series of profane phrases, the likes of which were too numerous and filthy to repeat. When finally he paused, breathing hard and red in the face from his fervor, he noticed that Chrome was trying to get to his feet, despite its burns. Vince knew what it was trying to do, and reached over to his desk. Pulling a worn CD player from the desk, the device began to play an upbeat jazz rhythm, horns, bass, and brushes on drums singing in time. Almost instantly, both Pokemon and trainer grew calm, the relaxing tune easing their wounds, both physical and emotional. Sufficiently becalmed, Vince reached into his backpack and withdrew a tattered rag, torn with use. He spread Chrome’s small towel on the ground, and the singed Steel type readily settled onto it. The young man then withdrew a half-used bottle of Super Potion from his pack.
“You did what you could, Chrome,” he said to the Aron, as it winced under the spray of the Potion. “You followed my orders like a real trooper, and you held your cool too. You’re a lot better than that tool we had to fight, buddy. He just got lucky, huh?” The Aron nodded, letting out a short, barking growl indicating his agreement. Vince closed his eyes for a moment, allowing his rage to be lost in the music, the bright horns and deep bass chilling his hot blood. He was still angry about the loss to James, but he would not allow it to trouble him further today. Next time would be different, he promised himself.
Later, after Chrome had fallen asleep on his blanket while recovering from his wounds, Vince lay on his bed thinking how odd it was for him, a street punk from Olivine, to be here at all. He hadn’t attended school for years, learning all he needed to survive through his friends, his brothers in the gang.
‘These kids don’t know nothing about surviving, nothing about fighting. I’ve fought all my life just to stay alive, sleeping in garages, eating what I could steal. You can’t trust anyone in this world…no one but yourself.’
He looked down at the Aron, who was sleeping peacefully on his towel. His wounds were healing already, the naturally-generated iron plates covering his body made Chrome one tough egg to crack.
‘Chrome is all I’ve got…and I can’t trust any of these other brats either. I’ve gotta go it alone if I’m gonna survive here. I’ll prove to all of them just how tough I can be.’
Vince sighed, and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t belong here,” he said to the stuccoed sandstone above.
-sandragon13
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Post by sandragon13 on Nov 30, 2008 19:22:14 GMT -5
Chapter 18: Brick Wall
“Ah-hahaha!” James cackled, throwing his head back as he strode down the deserted hallway. Rush, walking alongside his master, smiled his trademark toothy grin, clearly glad that he had done well to demonstrate his strength. “I can’t believe how easy that was! Rush, they can’t touch us!”
“Ba-bagon!” came the reply, enthusiastic and croaking from the raptorlike Dragon.
“That’s right, you’ve got it. Just wait until we tear everyone up at practice tomorrow! Oh, it will be SO sweet!” He was quiet for a moment, the sound of boots and claws on the dark tile reverberating down the pathway. “Did you see how the girls were checking me out, Rush? They can’t get enough.”
“Baaa-gon!” responded the bipedal dragon, a wry smile revealing his interlocking, sharply pointed teeth.
“Let’s go chill for the rest of the night, man. We sure deserved it, huh?” Together, the dragon and his master continued onward, ready for anything.
The next day, Coach continued pitting the trainers in one-on-one, supervised battles. However, today they were isolated, two trainers on each half of the packed-earth battlefield, two matches at a time. The style was like that of a tournament, designed to adapt each trainer’s style and strength to fighting many different threats. In the first round, James was matched up with Brian, the quiet boy from outside Celadon City. The mohawked trainer shook his head as he beheld his opponent across the ring, standing reluctantly in the trainers box opposite him. The signal was given to begin combat, and Rush emerged from his pokeball, teeth gnashing and ready for battle. Brian sent out his partner, a limber Bellsprout he called Roots.
“Light him up, Rush! Ember attack!” ordered James without hesitation. The Bagon lunged forward on muscular legs, its head low as flames gathered in its mouth. Sharply raising its head with intensity burning in its eyes, it exhaled the burning cinders at the willowy Grass-type, who was barely able to dive out of the way.
“Roots, dodge him! It’s a Fire attack!” Brian shouted. Never before had the young man been forced into battle, and his inexperience was clear against James’ aggressive Bagon. “Grass Knot attack!” Roots bent over backward, using one broad leaf to balance itself, and swung a rapidly lengthening rootlike leg in a wide arc, snagging Rush by the ankle and pulling it off its feet. The Bagon hit the ground with a thud, its eyes immediately snapping open and, fire in its eyes, clambered to its feet with a growl. James was infuriated by the attack, just as much as his partner.
“Drop it, Rush!” he yelled, growing angrier by the second, “snap it in half!” With fury the blue dragon leapt head-first onto the Grass/Poison hybrid, its thick skull contacting with Roots’ bell-shaped head and stunning it instantly. The Bellsprout wavered on its feet, in no condition to fight. James, however, would not be denied his victory.
“Fire Fang.”
Without so much as a flinch the bipedal dragon lunged forward, its mouth immediately wavering with heat. Before Roots could react Rush locked its muscular jaws around its opponent’s willowy body, the intense heat quickly singing the Grass type.
“James, let it go!” shouted Brian desperately, but the cocky Dragon Tamer merely sneered at him. “You win, just let him go!” begged Brian, watching Roots hang limply from Rush’s jaws. The Bagon swung its head savagely side to side, inflicting heavy damage to the barely-conscious grass-type. Suddenly, a tan blur propelled itself across the sideline and collided solidly with Rush, sending it rolling and knocking Roots free from its cruel maw. Landing like a rag doll, Bellsprout lay still as Brian rushed to his side, while Coach ran to fetch the medical staff. Brian had tears in his eyes as he lifted Roots, covered in burns and bruises, and holding the Grass-type close to his body, glared at James with eyes that expressed hurt beyond any he had yet experienced in his life. He carried the semiconscious Bellsprout to the seating area, where several of the other trainers joined him in an effort to ease the Pokemon’s pain. Meanwhile, Rush staggered to its feet, and looking back onto the battlefield, found himself being stared down by Blade, Trevor’s Sandshrew. The mouse pokemon’s silver-haired trainer was behind it, clearly angered by the Bagon’s, and its trainer’s, actions.
“Dude, what are you thinking? You’re insane if you think you should winning that big against him, stomping him like that. You want a real fight? Come up against us, we’ll put your purebred training to the test! Rollout, Blade!”
“Rrrrew!” growled the armadillo-like Pokemon as it ran forward a few steps, coiled into a tight, armored ball, and rolled rapidly toward the Bagon. Caught off-guard, the Dragon-type froze in its tracks.
“Dodge it, Rush! Drop the hammer on it with Headbutt!”
On command, the Bagon sidestepped the spinning Ground-type, then lowered its armored skull as its opponent changed direction and charged back toward it. The attacks collided, as Rush stumbled back a number of steps and Blade was sent airborne, still in its spheric form.
“Sand-Attack, Blade”, commanded Trevor coolly.
The Sandshrew snapped open in midair, releasing a cloud of sand and grit from its underbelly as it unfurled. The attack landed squarely on Rush, who growled with frustration and swiped furiously at its eyes, trying to clear them of the foreign bodies. Just as it got one eye clean, however, Blade was already charging him, and struck hard with a rising Scratch attack to the body. Wincing at the attack and knocked slightly into the air, the Bagon heard the command came from Trevor: “Finish him.” Without missing a beat, the Ground-type mouse leapt and met Rush in midair, grabbing the Dragon with its strong forelimbs, and driving it solidly into the ground. As the dust settled, James’ cocky partner lay defeated, and its opponent issued a piercing, growling screech of victory. Trevor stood behind his Sandshrew, arms crossed and a highly confident grin on his face.
James gritted his teeth, anger building quickly in him for having lost so easily to this…common opponent. He snapped Rush’s pokeball from his waist and withdrew the blue Dragon, absolutely humiliated before the assembly of the class. Though next to nobody was actually watching him, being more preoccupied with comforting Brian and his Bellsprout, he still felt the burning sensation of defeat, the feeling that his forefathers had striven so hard to eliminate from their lives. Feeling only the need to escape, he stomped from the room, his enraged glare locking with Trevor’s until he passed him and exited through the tall double doors. Almost as soon as he left the room, however, he found himself face-to-face with Professor Lockhart, who was carrying a satchel of medical supplies and wore a look of concern. She strode past James as if not even seeing him, and rushed into the battlefield chamber. As James turned back toward the hallway mid-stride, a pair of terribly strong hands clutched his jacket front and shoved him against the darkened wall. The young man was frozen, realizing that the restraining hands belonged to Coach Ratliff, as the bulky, bald man pinned him against the wall.
“What you did out there was…unacceptable. I will NOT tolerate that kind of brutality in my class, especially with your fellow students!” His voice was harsh, and his words were spat through clenched teeth. James could tell just how much Coach was trying to hold back his rage, even now he was holding him aloft against the wall.
“This goes far beyond you, my friend,” Coach said in a growling voice, “you are here to learn how to save the planet. The WHOLE WORLD is counting on you and your classmates in there, to stop something that threatens the ENTIRE EARTH. If any one of you gets hurt, we are all doomed. I really hope I’m getting through to you, son, because your actions may well have cost the entire planet its fighting chance.”
Coach relaxed his grip and let James’ feet slide to the floor. Turning without another word, he walked back down the hall, entering the room and leaving James alone in the darkened corridor. In that moment the message sank into the Dragon Trainer, just how much they mean in this fight, this war. He was left stunned, unable to move, even his trademark grin wiped from his face by the sweeping reaction of what he had just orchestrated. He snapped the ball from his hip and held the metallic sphere in the flickering firelight of the torch sconce on the wall.
“We’ve got a lot to learn, Rush,” he said to the ball, and to the wounded Dragon within. James’ icy blue eyes gleamed in the torchlight. “Both of us.”
-sandragon13
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Post by sandragon13 on Nov 30, 2008 19:21:58 GMT -5
Chapter 19: Lend the Light
“Finally, we’re free!” Evelyn excitedly thought to herself as the bell rang on the day’s last class. The weekend had arrived, only their second since the group had arrived at Ironspine Academy. Today, however was special; the grounds surrounding the school had finally been opened to the students, and Evelyn and her friends were going for a casual walk in the afternoon warmth. As usual, Summer, Ashley, and Amy had gathered outside the classroom, waiting for her to join them. Together, the four girls returned to the dorms, relieved themselves of their books, and, the clique reformed, made for the Nexus Lobby, and liberation from the sandstone complex. Exiting through the same long, tiled corridor that they had entered through a fortnight ago, the four girls walked casually to the far end of the hallway. As the heavy stone doors pulled back under mechanical force, searing sunlight poured into the comparatively shady hall, forcing the trainers to squint against its intensity. After a few moments, Evelyn’s eyes adjusted to the glare and she led the way out into the rolling dunes surrounding the school. The day had been hot, but now in the midafternoon sun the heat of the day was just starting to drain away. The desert descended rapidly into chilly nights with the daily passing of the sun, so they had chosen this time as the ideal to have their stroll. Ashley trotted ahead, climbing a gentle dune with ease, and looked out over the surrounding area. “That’s the border, right?” she asked Evelyn, who was closest to her. Ashley pointed out, towards a sporadic line of boulders that lay in a wide arc, ringing the campus in a quarter-mile radius. “Yep, that’s it. They said we couldn’t go further than that…” “Aw, that’s lame.” Amy walked up, joining the two girls atop the dune. “I remember when we were coming in here, we passed a big stand of rocks, all full of caves! There’s nothing out here but sand, we should go over there!” Evelyn looked out toward the west, the rocky formations barely visible in the heat haze rippling from the sand. She put her hand to her brow and squinted, they couldn’t be more than a half-mile out, she thought. She looked at Amy, who was practically bouncing with excitement, and sighed. “Alright, we’ll go. But we’ve got to be careful, we could get caught if we’re gone for too long.” Amy and Ashley led the way towards the sporadic line of boulders, with Summer close behind, an amused smile on her face. Evelyn brought up the rear of the group, wiping the droplets forming on her brow with the edge of her bandanna. She was never one to break the rules, but she just couldn’t say no to her new friend’s enthusiasm. A slight smile crossed her lips, somewhat enjoying the newfound freedom that the last two weeks had brought her. She increased her stride, quickly catching up with the rest of the loping group. It took them barely five minutes to reach the stone border, even with the heat of the slowly fading day beating down. Once there, they took their first tentative steps toward the massive stones, checking the crannies and crevasses for trip lines or an electronic fence. Evelyn was sure that such a perimeter defense would trigger, but even as they moved beyond the rocks, no alarm sounded. Not wanting to be the wet blanket, she let the thought drop from her mind, and tailed along after her friends. Within minutes, they had left the campus behind, and had arrived at a large, low plateau, the top dotted with jutting towers of stone. The face shielded from the wind had a smooth, lazy slope of sand leaning up to the flattened summit of the formation. The surprisingly large area up here was larger than it appeared, but undaunted, the girls ascended the gentle dune and reached the level surface above. Evelyn looked out over the desert beyond, from this height the view was far clearer than back by the Academy. It’s so pretty out here, she thought, the sun above just giving a hint of waning and casting ever-lengthening shadows from the dunes below. Suddenly, Amy shouted, “Hey, look! Birds in the trees!”
The three girls joined the brown-haired trainer at the western face of the plateau, and followed her pointing finger toward a stand of stunted trees about a fifty feet away. Flitting among the branches were a small flock of Natu, the brightly-colored Psychic/Flying types settling in for the night.
“Natu! They’re pretty rare, and we don’t see too many of ‘em, even in Fortree City.” Amy watched the avian Pokemon with wonder. “Miss Winona used to have one that lived in her garden, but that was a long time ago. They can fly, but they’re slow and like to stay on the ground during the day. At night, they go to sleep in the trees, so they can be safe.”
“I don’t blame them,” said Summer, “at their size, they could get in serious trouble at night on the ground. That’s really cool, Amy.”
“Yeah, like an Onix!” chimed in Ashley, opening her arms wide in parody of the Rock Snake’s massive jaws. “Ka-chomp!” Summer chuckled to herself at the thought.
Evelyn spoke up, her voice lowered as if frightened. “Aren’t they…Psychic types?”
Amy smiled, “Yeah, they learn more Psychic attacks when they evolve, though. They can’t do much now with their powers all small.”
Despite the small size and cute features of the flitting Natu, Evelyn couldn’t bear being this close to them. She turned and walked towards the far end of the plateau, trying to slow her racing pulse without bringing her phobia to bear in front of the other girls. As she looked up from the ground, she caught a dark shape out of the corner of her eye. Looking back, she noticed that it was in fact the gaping mouth of a cave, the interior draped in shadow. In an effort to prove herself in the eyes of the group, she called out to the girls. “Hey, check this out, it’s a cave!”
Ashley was the first to her side, peering intently into the darkness. “Yep, it’s a cave alright, but I can’t tell how big it is. It’s too dark to see beyond right here…” She bent and picked up a small rock, and tossed the stone into the center of the yawning opening. The stone clacked in the darkness, skipping to a stop a short distance inside. In the dark confines, no other movement could be heard in the pitch blackness. Even as Summer and Amy approached curiously, only the wind could be heard.
“Sounds safe enough to me. Go, Rie!” said Evelyn confidently, proud that she had diverted their attention from the psychic birds. With the command and the release of her Pokeball, the fluffy electric sheep materialized in front of the assembled group. “Use your Flash attack, Rie, to help us see in here.” “Ree reep!” responded Rie cheerfully, and raised her striped tail to its full height. Evelyn and her Mareep took the first few tentative steps into the stubborn darkness, as the gold sphere adorning the tip of the Electric type’s tail began to glow with a brilliant light, radiating in all directions. Carefully, the three girls followed behind, sticking close behind the glowing tail. The walls of the cave were rough, and the floor was covered by a very thin layer of sand. Clusters of small rocks were littered everywhere, and the group had to be careful not to lose their footing. They worked their way through the cavern for several minutes, inching forward as the path ahead was proven safe. Some sixty feet into the cave, however, a strong stench wafted past, a musty odor like wet leather and rotten meat. Slowing their pace further, they found the source of the foul smell: the remains of a Numel, what remained of its flesh clinging to bones dried by exposure. Beneath the corpse lay a puddle of hardened magma, a black dusty spot all that remained of the creature’s internal lava sac.
“Oh, that’s terrible!” said Ashley with concern, her voice hushed somewhat. “I dealt with Numel all the time back home, they’re adorable! I hope it wasn’t in pain when…”
“I’m sure it wasn’t, Ashley,” Summer said kindly, “it looks like an old one that lived a long life. It’s not in any pain anymore.”
Evelyn, however, was disturbed by the discovery for another reason. “It’s really unlikely that a Numel would leave its herd like this and go this far into a cave so far from the ground level to…die.” She took a deep breath, trying to avoid the stench of the remains nearby. “Something might have brought it here.”
Amy and Summer suddenly grew serious, suddenly aware of the situation they may have brought themselves into. Evelyn looked further into the cave as far as the light reached, and even that could not pierce the gloom. “We’ve got to get out of here,” she said in a tense, quiet tone, “as quickly and quietly as possible.” The four girls had not taken five paces toward the cave entrance before a scuttling noise was audible behind them. A hollow scraping, like bone on hewn rock, reached Evelyn’s ears, her every instinct telling to flee through the utter darkness ahead. Rie was struggling to keep up with the humans, and her light was flickering as she burned energy charging with all haste after her master. Suddenly, a hissing shriek issued from behind them, and the enemy finally became visible: a massive Drapion, an armored insectlike Pokemon with powerful claws and a deadly sting, clambering over rock piles in its pursuit of the group of girls.
“Run! Get outside now!” shouted Evelyn as she looked back at the ferocious Ogre Scorp pokemon bearing down on them. Ashley, with her track-star foot speed, found the mouth of the cave first, followed soon after by Amy and Summer. Evelyn, a mere five paces in front of the Drapion with Rie by her side, suddenly turned and faced the monstrous scorpion. “Flash, Rie!” she shouted, and the yellow sheep released a blinding blast of light from its bulbous tail, disorienting the huge Poison type and forcing it back several steps. It swung one claw to its face in an effort to protect its eyes from the glaring glow, and swiped at Rie with the other, barely missing the Mareep. “Let’s go, Rie!” shouted Evelyn, and escaped into the fading sunlight with her partner beside her. Between her panting breaths, she could swear she could still hear the Drapion hissing and clacking in the darkness.
“Think it’ll come after us out here?” Ashley asked, barely winded by their flight from the cavern. She looked back with fear at the dark opening.
“I…I think we’re safe,” said Amy, glancing towards Evelyn.
As if in reaction to her words, the Drapion burst from the cave with a shrieking roar, landing in the middle of the four girls. Without hesitation it swung a heavy claw at a nearby rock wall, sending a cascade of boulders crashing down and barricading the path down the sloping dune, cutting off any escape. Bordered on three sides by sheer cliffs and the stone wall, the four classmates were cornered by the powerful Poison type.
Evelyn looked up at the rearing ogre scorpion, terrified of the thought of combat with something armed with so many weapons. To her right, Ashley released her Vulpix in a sudden flash. “Mystic, give it a Flamethrower!” The vulpine pokemon leapt forward without fear and let loose a streaming blast of flame directly at the Drapion’s head. The Poison/Dark hybrid hissed menacingly and raised a claw in defense of the fire attack, the flames licking its armored body with little effect. In a motion too rapid to react to, it suddenly brought its venomous tail forward, the strike wounding the Vulpix and sending it tumbling to the side. With one opponent down by its trademark Cross Poison attack, Drapion turned its attention to Evelyn and her Mareep, who stood defiantly before it. “Nobody, but nobody, goes after my friends,” she thought to herself. She knew what must be done.
“Rie, Cotton Spore attack!” With practiced effort, the Electric type released a billowing cloud of fine, fluffy wool from its thick coat. The interwoven material settled quickly all over the Drapion, getting caught in the joints of its armored exoskeleton and slowing its movement. With a shrieking hiss, the giant scorpion swung its armored claw forward with surprising speed and snatched the yellow sheep right off the ground. Rie yelped weakly as the vicelike claws held her body helpless. “Rie, no!” Evelyn cried, desperate to free her partner from the potentially fatal grip of the massive Drapion. “Use Discharge, now!”
Even caught in the crushing pincer of a far larger foe, Rie heard her master’s command. Focusing every ounce of static electricity that her wooly coat had accumulated, Rie’s tail bulb glowed a brilliant whitish gold. “Reeeeeeeee!” cried the Mareep, and released the massive charge into the arm of the Drapion, the flickering bolt sending thick arcs of power through the body of her insect foe. The Poison type hissed with pain as the charge coursed through its body, disrupting the very firings of its nervous system. No longer able to control its own joints, the Drapion convulsed and its claws snapped open, releasing the captive Mareep. Evelyn rushed to Rie’s side as the electric sheep offered her equivalent to a grin. The massive scorpion, one arm dangling powerlessly, shrieked furiously before retreating back into its cave.
Rie stood on wobbling legs, so proud of her victory that she failed to notice the weakness of her own limbs. The Discharge released the entirety of her stored electrical power, and such a massive transfer of energy from her body had drastically weakened her. As Evelyn stood beside her, she laid down, using the opportunity to recuperate from the battle.
Amy walked up, her concern clear. “Is she going to be ok? She must be pretty worn out.”
Evelyn smiled and petted the pokemon’s wooly coat. “She’ll be fine…her coat protected her from a lot of the crushing power. After she regains some of her energy, she’ll be just fine.”
“I wish you could say the same for this Vulpix,” said Summer quietly, from the far side of the plateau.
Evelyn looked over and saw Ashley and Summer kneeling beside the weak fire fox. She was on her back, a pretty ugly-looking gash crossing her stomach where the Drapion’s tail had struck her. Even from standing height, she could see a green splash on the side of the wound: the venom of the Drapion’s tail, among the most dangerous in the world if not treated with all haste. She would not survive the walk back to the Academy in this condition, even inside her Pokeball the poison would continue to sap her strength. Without any proper supplies, Evelyn would have to rely on her training from years of watching her parents on the family farm. She turned to Amy, her voice calm and serious. “I need you to find me the leaves of the Pecha plant. You won’t find any berries on it at this time of year, but the leaves will be able to slow the poison enough to make it back to school.”
Amy nodded, and pulled the Pokeball from her belt. “Go, Spirit!” Within moments, the high-strung Taillow had fluttered to the ground in front of her trainer, chirping happily. “Help me find some Pecha leaves, Spirit, this is serious.” The tiny bird Pokemon, sensing her master’s sincerity, immediately took to the skies in search of the Pecha plant, as Amy followed behind on foot.
The search party set in motion, Evelyn next turned to Summer, who looked with concern at the semiconscious Vulpix. “Summer, can you go to my bag and grab my water bottle? We’ve got to clean this wound up a bit before we can apply the antidote.”
“Got it, just let me know what I can do to help,” said Summer, her eyes hopeful.
Ashley remained with her fallen partner, cradling the fire fox’s head in her lap. “What can I do, Evelyn? What can I do for Mystic?”
Evelyn looked at the girl, and could see the tears welling in her eyes. “You’re doing what you should, Ash. She needs your support, and to feel that we’re going to help save her. Your input is more valuable than any of ours.”
Ashley managed a small smile at this, even as the first of her tears streaked her face.
Summer returned with the fresh water, and held the bottle at the ready. Evelyn, reluctant though it was, removed her seafoam bandana and, moistening it with the clear water, began to carefully clean the wound. She issued a great sigh of relief upon discovering the injury to be little more than a scratch, but the clearing of the venom from the site was the main priority. After removing most of the poison in and around the wound, Evelyn tore the soiled section from her bandana and discarded it, and used the remaining fabric to dress the wound. Keeping it covered would prevent any sand or infectious agents from getting in before the medicinal herbs arrived. In a matter of minutes, Amy and Spirit ran back to the plateau, the girl’s arms clutching an immistakable bouquet of Pecha boughs. After letting the juice from the leaves seep into the injury, she redressed the wound. With her dirty-blond hair loosed to the wind and her face streaked with dirt, Evelyn stood at last as Ashley cradled Mystic in her arms. The Vulpix had fallen into a shallow sleep, but was no longer wincing as the venom coursed through its veins. The sun was falling rapidly and a colorful sunset was spreading through the sky.
“Alright, everybody ready? We’ve got to get back to school before nightfall, for Mystic’s sake, as well as our own. You all did great, and we might not have been able to save her if it weren’t for your help. Let’s get going before it gets too dark to see.”
The four girls started on their path back to the Academy, the huge stone building clearly visible against the painted sky. They made the trip back without incident, and Ms. Lockhart was able to fully recuperate Mystic from her injury. Back in her room at last, Evelyn flipped the switch on and winced in the sudden light. She looked at herself in the mirror, her hair uncovered and wild from the breeze, her face dirty and streaked with sweat. It reminded her of home, the harvest, her family. Suddenly, the light above burned out, plunging the entire windowless room into pitch darkness. Evelyn threw back her head and let out a bloodcurdling scream, standing alone in the dark room.
-sandragon13
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Post by sandragon13 on Jan 4, 2009 2:47:32 GMT -5
Chapter 20: Menagerie
“And another thing! You never take that hat off! What’s under there anyway?” Trevor reached his hand forward, trying to snatch the blue beanie from Alex’s head. Alex angrily clutched the wool cap down on his head, and smacked the silver-haired trainer’s hand away, then shoved him a few steps backward. “Knock it off, man, I can see why she thinks you suck.” He turned to face the door in front of which both young men stood. “Don’t mess this up for me.”
Meanwhile, in her gently-lit room, Courtney sleepily stumbled toward her desk. She could hear the two guys arguing in the hallway, as usual. Even in the relative gloom of the chamber, she could see her hair disheveled from sleep. She squinted into the mirror in the dim light. “Ugh…I look like hell. Like I slept on the floor.” Standing in her pallid silk nightgown, she inspected her magnificence from head-to-toe in the mirror, looking for any signs of flaw. Satisfied, Courtney sat and began brushing her hair, flowing and golden like harvest wheat. Turning to reach a box from a shelf, she knocked a bottle of perfume from the desk in front of her. She let out a sigh, accompanied by a coy smile, and picked up the fallen flask from the carpet. From there, she went through her routine: face wash, antiwrinkle cream, lotions and oils of various purpose. Rolling her eyes as the noise in the hall intensified momentarily, she stood and stepped out of the semitransparent garment, picking up a whitish-grey silk skirt she had picked up during her last trip to Slateport City. Sliding her slender legs into the skirt she turned back to her closet, eying the rainbow of shirts carefully. After pulling out two or three she decided on a cute pink top, one that fit nicely around her shapely upper body. She undid the first two buttons, knowing full well how it drove Alex and Trevor crazy. She brushed her teeth in the tiny in-room sink, her brilliant smile bright even in the lamplight. Finally, she turned to the mirror and carefully applied her makeup, being sure that every last lash was lined, every fault masked. She recalled Princess, who was sleeping in her fur-lined bed on the floor by the bed, into her ball and stowed it in her bag. With a final flourish she stepped into her stylish sandals and walked to the door, opening it wide and catching the two boys outside flatfooted.
Trevor and Alex immediately ceased their bickering as Courtney stepped out of the room. In their eyes, her radiance was so effortless, it was heartbreaking. Courtney strode confidently down the hallway, the two young men flanking her closely behind.
“What do we have today?” she asked to the boys, without turning back.
“Just Battle Training,” replied Trevor without hesitation, as if he had been anticipating the question. Courtney’s attention snapped to the Luxury Ball in her bag, her mind suddenly recalling her partner sleeping within.
“Lovely. At least we don’t have to sit through another pointless lesson with Dr. Science today. Let’s go though, you guys are holding me up.”
“A Meowth? Seriously?” Courtney looked disdainfully at the house pokemon she had selected at random from the tray of pokeballs. The feline pokemon looked back at her curiously, large eyes glimmering under the lights. “That’s the one you chose, Courtney,” Coach replied, clipboard in hand. “Now, send out your partner and, together with this Meowth, you must defeat this target.” He motioned with his chin, pointing toward the canvas-and-wood torso standing at mid-field. Courtney sighed and rolled her eyes, reluctantly enlarging the black-and-yellow Luxury Ball in her right hand. Courtney shifted her eyes to the side, toward the seats where the rest of the Class watched her motions. She fired an effortlessly sultry glance at Trevor and Alex, the two boys visibly reacting to the look as if they had been physically touched. “Too easy,” she thought to herself with a slight smirk, and raised her pokeball high with a grand motion. Hurling the ball gently forwards, she called out to her partner, “Dance, Princess!” On command, the ball split and released a shimmering cloud of silver particles and rosy-colored heart-shaped energy. At the center of the sparkling effects, a Pokemon stood proudly; a Skitty, with immaculately brushed fur, flawlessly pink on her back and cream underneath. Standing on four slender legs, the feline pokemon held her head and tail high, fully aware of her condition. After a few moments, the decal effects faded and Princess turned back to her master, as if to ask why it had been disturbed. “Princess, go get that target, or whatever.” Courtney ordered unenthusiastically, motioning toward the dummy halfway across the field. The Skitty turned towards the target, then at the Meowth sitting on its haunches a few yards away, than back at Courtney. Realizing that she must be serious, Princess began casually striding toward the dummy. The room was silent as the rosy feline calmly walked, its eyes focused on the target. Stopping about two yards away, Princess turned back to Courtney and mewed, apparently still unclear as to whether it was actually supposed to attack. “Yes, I mean it! Tackle attack!” Princess turned and charged the last five feet towards the dummy, her body, slender as it was, propelling her with surprising speed, and bounding into a jumping pounce. The Normal-type feline struck the target with all that she had, yet the target barely moved. Princess growled and leapt again, another clean hit, and again the dummy refused to budge. The Skitty took the brunt of the impact and stumbled as she landed, ruffling her fur slightly but otherwise leaving her unharmed. Instantly spotting the patch of disturbed fur atop Princess’ head, Courtney gasped. “Princess, make a Wish!” The Skitty tilted her head skyward and, parting her mouth slightly with a faint mewing sound, released a burst of bluish-white particles upward. The glowing particulates rose towards the ceiling, as all eyes in the room followed them. The cloud suddenly condensed into a single sphere, about the size of a tennis ball, and streaked with incredible acceleration upward, phasing through the steel struts of the ceiling effortlessly. The Meowth, who had to this point waited patiently for Courtney’s command, was transfixed by the glowing orb and let out a stifled meow. The blonde trainer’s attention was drawn back to the scratch cat by the noise, having entirely forgotten about the pokemon until now. “Oh right, you. Go do something. Princess, wait for the Wish to come true.” At that, the Meowth stood up and bounded on four legs toward the target, extending the sharp claws hidden in the pads of its front legs as it prepared to attack. Courtney saw what the feline Pokemon was doing, and shouted, “Princess, Pound it!” “Nnnnyaa!” growled the Skitty as it took off at a surprisingly rapid pace, catching up to the Meowth as it pounced at the target and swung her tail for a Pound attack. However, the main force of the blow ricocheted easily off of the dummy and instead struck Meowth soundly in the gut. While not a serious blow, the attack was unexpected and forceful enough to send the scratch cat stumbling as it landed. As both feline pokemon landed, the glowing blue Wish ball reappeared through the ceiling and descended toward the battlefield. While Princess had barely disturbed the fur on her body, her partner was struggling to regain breath, the air knocked out of its lungs by the indirect Pound. “Grab it, Princess!” shouted Courtney, as the pink-and-cream kitten leapt into the air and snagged the sphere, a mystical veil enveloping her and restoring her to her original, pristine state, not a hair out of place. “Good work, baby, you looked great,” Courtney cood as she patted Princess’ ear, and the bruised Meowth staggered back to the sideline, near where Coach stood, aghast. Courtney recalled the smiling kitten Pokemon back into its ball, then walked proudly back toward Coach and the rest of the Class. “We didn’t get the target down, but whatever,” she commented as she passed the stunned bald man, and sat down. The instructor closed his mouth, his eyes focused in thought at what he had just witnessed. “Miss Courtney,” he said aloud as he turned to face the class. “Hm?” said the young woman, as she looked up from her phone, which she had already produced from her pocket. She clicked it shut and turned her attention to the massive man. “There’s just no way,” he began, “that that could have been considered anything close to a decent effort. Not only did you fail to knock over the target, you inflicted more damage on your partner than on your directive. Misuse of techniques, a lack of trust and communication between you and your Skitty, and an overall bad attitude are guaranteeing your failure at this point.” Courtney showed a mild sense of concern with the mention of “guaranteed failure”. “You must learn how to best use the strengths and abilities of your partner, how to apply them in combat, and most importantly how to work as a team, both between the two of you and with the rest of the Class. You might have a legacy, Miss Courtney, but here you’re no better than any of us.” He held her attention for a few moments more, locking her gaze with his, before lowering his eyes to his clipboard. At this, a flicker crossed her face, though it was difficult to tell if it was trepidation or annoyance of being chided in front of the class. “Vince, you’re up next,” said Coach, returning to his routine.
Alex and Trevor, who sat on either side of the young woman, watched her intently, but could sense no further expression from her. If she was indeed seething with some emotion, she hid it extremely well.
At the end of class, Courtney stood, not having spoken a word to anyone since returning to her seat after her demonstration before the Class. As she walked to the floor, flanked as usual by the two boys, Coach approached her. “Courtney, may I have a word with you? I think I may have a way…guys, do you mind?” Trevor and Alex, who had been leaning inward to catch the conversation themselves, looked up, then sheepishly turned and walked, separated from each other, towards the exit. Even as they passed through the doors into the hall, the two took up positions outside the windows in the partition, peering inward. After her two companions left her side, Courtney looked back at the stout man standing before her. “As I was saying, I may have found a way to help you. I know what I said today was a bit harsh, but it’s true. You and your Skitty must learn to work as a unit, and to serve the team in as prominently a way as possible. Though her power is somewhat lacking, she is certainly fast for her species. When I saw she knew how to use the Wish technique, I was floored; that is a rare gift indeed. With those two things in mind, I’d like to show you this.” He reached into the wheeled bookshelf that stood nearby, withdrawing a dated textbook, from the “B” chapter of a Pokemon Technique encyclopedia of some sort. The spine crackled as he parted the covers, leafing through the pages with gusto before stopping and placing his finger under a bold-faced heading. Courtney looked down at the page, her curiosity piqued, if slightly. Trevor and Alex could not hear the conversation within the room, but could see a book being held open before Courtney, the distance between them obscuring the text from their eyes. “It’s a book,” said Trevor, into the glass his face was nearly pressed against. “Nice deduction,” replied Alex, much the same way. “Can’t see what it says, though. Must be important, if we weren’t allowed to see it.” Trevor turned toward Alex, who still peered through the gridded glass. He was quiet for a moment, as if in thought. “Bet I find out before you.” A moment later, the uproar could be heard down the hall. As the two exchanged shoves, Courtney parted the double doors, the most subtle of smiles on her face. Without a word, she walked between the two young men, her blonde hair shifting against her back. Trevor and Alex took a brief glance at each other, before taking off after her.
-sandragon13
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zanashi
Wanderer
icon cred: fleshpaint @ lj
Posts: 49
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Post by zanashi on Jan 21, 2009 20:10:18 GMT -5
Cliffhangerrr! Dx
But yeahh, great story! Sighh, I still get kinda confused by all the character names, but I think I'm getting there. Anyways, I love all the description you put into each character and I love the idea of the story as a whole. Can't wait for the next chapter!
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Post by MatrixMan95 on Feb 8, 2009 16:18:42 GMT -5
have you ever considered putting this up of FanFiction.net?
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Post by sandragon13 on Feb 16, 2009 1:35:27 GMT -5
Chapter 21: Cold Front
Alex wanted to scream. He felt the ire boiling in the pit of his stomach, just being near the cocky kid, this rival that had been forced on him. As they walked down the hallway, their strides matching to keep pace with Courtney, he glanced over at his competition. Trevor walked a half-step behind and to the left of her, flanking her just as he was, pulling her attention away. Alex hated the fact that he had to compete with this kid for Courtney’s interest, but always kept trying to draw her himself. Over all else, he must remain cool. Controlled. Keep his head, and she would see his true strength. To him, she was worth it.
The day was over, battle practice the only assignment on the docket. The trio took the stairs back to the rooming quarters on the second floor, Courtney leading the two young men around the long, gently bending hallway. Soon they stood outside her room as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“See ya, guys,” she said to them, in just the right tone of voice that sent shivers through them both. She closed the door with a click and stepped into the darkened chamber, her back to the closed entryway. Courtney smiled to herself as she started to get undressed. “I have your hearts,” she said to herself as she raised her arms and slipped out of her top, “and you have my pity.”
As soon as the mutual object of their desire was out of the picture, Trevor and Alex reverted back to their individual selves, both young men repulsed by the presence of the other. With only a superior-sounding exhaling breath, Trevor turned and strode onward down the hallway, never looking back. Alex let his angry gaze follow his rival for a few moments, then turned and exited in the opposite direction.
Alex returned to his room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the windowless space as he lit a single desk lamp. He didn’t like turning on the overhead light, it heated his room up in the closed space and he tried to retain the cool that night brought to the desert. For Tusk, who with his shaggy fur and tolerance for cold was already having difficulty handling the sweltering temperatures outside the Academy, and by his own preference, Alex did everything he could to accommodate himself in this place. School was never really his style, but his folks had always gotten him out the door in time for his classes, and he hated to let them down. It was his father’s job that had moved his family to Mahogany Town in the first place, and his mom that had sparked his interest in snowboarding. Of course, that was also where he had met Tusk, all those years ago. Because of that, he felt it was his responsibility to try not to screw things up too badly. Of course, there was one thing in his life that, above all else, he didn’t want to corrupt.
He laid down on the mattress, his body sinking into the gently-worn foam. “Finally Friday,” he thought to himself, “but what is there to do? It’s not like this place has a freshly-powdered halfpipe out back.” He adjusted the beanie that seemed to perpetually cover his head as he reclined against the pillow, enjoying the refreshing coolness of undisturbed fabric. Alex allowed his mind to wander, his eyes sinking shut, quiet and still in the tepid room.
He was only 10. He wandered around the stark clearing, bored by his father’s tinkering with the pile of rocks by the cliff-face, and yet here he was, shin-deep in powdery snow. They stood upon a ledge almost 300 feet up, but Alex could still see his dad’s brick-red SUV in the lot far below. It may have been no more than a ladybug at this height.
“Alex, come look at this! This is pretty cool,” called his father over the wind, holding a stone in his hand. Rolling his eyes, the boy turned and walked slowly over to the cleft where his father knelt. “Probably another ‘super-cool’ sediment deposit or something,” he thought to himself, the snow crunching under his boots. He wanted to be down the mountain, on the slopes with his mom and his friends. But Dad had insisted that he wanted to bring him up here, to look at rocks. Alex reached his father’s side, a disinterested look on his face. His father, a handsome man in his late thirties, raised the rock in his hand for his son to see. Alex was surprised to see the Watmel-sized rock was entirely filled with pointed, rose-colored crystals. The light off the snow all around them glinted off the shiny gemstones, dancing under the bright sunlight.
“This is a geode, Alex. It’s named after Geodude, like Mr.Grant’s, because it’s hard and rocky on the outside, but the inside is hollow. Sometimes, it grows crystals on the inside, like this one. See, water…”
Just as these words were spoken, a roar erupted from above them, bellowing down on them and echoing in the frozen air. Alex’s father jumped to his feet, his eyes carefully gazing up the slope, searching desperately for the source of the noise. Finally, Alex pointed toward a figure on the hillside above them, maybe a quarter of a mile away. From this far away, he knew what it was: an Abomasnow. They both knew the danger that these Pokemon could inflict while defending their home ranges.
“Alex, son, we have to get down the mountain, now. Don’t say a word, and we’ll get out of here without getting it mad.”
He took young Alex’s hand, stepping slowly backward and keeping his eyes on the aggressive Ice-type monster. They made about 10 steps before Alex’s father stepped on a clump of snow that crunched under his boot. The Abomasnow bellowed and beat its chest, its throaty roar echoing down the mountainside. For a second all was silent in the world, when suddenly an ominous cracking noise reverberated down upon the two humans. Before their horrified eyes, a massive sheet of snow was shifting loose from the area just below the Abomasnow, gaining speed with each passing moment.
“Alex, RUN!” shouted his father, as the two turned downhill and bolted as fast as they could down the frozen mountainside, as the roar of the avalanche behind them grew to thunderous proportions. Alex had to lift his legs high as he ran to make any progress through the knee-deep snow, and was constantly trying to avoid tripping on the steep downhill grade. The wind, which hadn’t bothered him a minute ago, now stung in his nostrils as he gulped air, out of breath from the extra effort of fighting through the drifts. He could not shake the thought that he was going to die. He was actually going to die. The colossal plume of pallid death swooped down upon him now, and he was swept up in it, unable to breathe, unable to… All went white, then black.
A warm breath on his face. The first thing Alex was aware of as he emerged from under the veil of mortality was warm breath forcing feeling back into his frozen face. He had dreamt of an angel, pulling him from his icy tomb, putting warmth back into his chilled body. His limbs, his body, lay suspended as if on strings, paused in motion, and everywhere numb. With great effort he forced his eyes open, blurry and welling with tears after being closed so tightly for so long. He could see the bright sky beyond, and a dark, shuffling shape taking up his immediate vision. Alex blinked away his tears, and his rescuer came into focus: a big, round, moist nose, roughly and unabashedly snorting all over his face. He tried to speak, but only a dry gasp escaped his throat. The creature took a step back, startled by the sound, then stepped forward and exhaled a moisture-laden breath, reeking of earth and rotten plants, directly into his immobile face. This action brought a fresh wave of tears to Alex’s eyes, who was slowly regaining feeling in his cheeks, chin, and forehead. The nose was mounted on the front of a shaggy, low-slung creature with a humped back, a Swinub, he remembered his dad calling them. Suddenly, as if from a great distance, came a muffled shouting, and the crunching of feet on snow. The porcine pokemon gave a squealing grunt before shuffling away out of sight, allowing Alex to see a group of people running up the hill toward him. It was his father, with a number of rescue workers and Arcanine. He…he would be O.K….Alex sank out of consciousness as the workers gathered around the trapped boy, his father, arm in sling, doing everything he could.
A half-hour later, Alex was wrapped in a space blanket in the lodge at the foot of the mountain, before a roaring fire. It was by luck that he escaped being buried alive in the avalanche with his life, much less with only a broken left wrist. He had escaped hypothermia by his speedy rescue, and despite his young age he showed admirable toughness. On the table before him lay the very geode that his father had collected, it had rolled to a stop at the foot of the mountain, as if bound by destiny. Yet, the young boy remained conflicted. He had walked out of an avalanche practically unhurt…but he knew who his real rescuer had been. As the sun began to set on the mountain, Alex collected his half-dry clothes, redressed, and grabbing his pack, went out up the hill. After a brief while he found a set of small hoof-print tracks leading into a stand of trees, and a shuffling sound that still sounded so familiar. He crouched beneath the snow-laden branches and, to his surprise, sat the Swinub, a collection of roots, mushrooms, and grasses sticking out of its mouth. The pokemon’s long fur was clumped with dirt and snow, but Alex knew what he wanted to do. As the snow fell that night, gently dancing down past the streetlights, Alex and the Swinub, whom he had named Tusk, lay curled up together in the backseat of his father’s van, fast friends fast asleep.
The next morning, Alex and Trevor arrived almost simultaneously, as usual, outside Courtney’s door as they readied to head down to breakfast. They were both quiet, neither willing to start conversation with the other. Today, though, Alex was vaguely curious.
“Hey Trevor,” he said, putting aside his dislike for a second, his voice calm and almost falsely friendly. The trainer turned toward him, half-interest reflected on his face.
“What?” he asked, not really caring what the question to be asked was.
“Where’d you get your Sandshrew from?”
“A breeder outta Pewter City. What’s it to you?”
Alex smiled to himself. “Never mind, then.”
-sandragon13
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