MATURE: Tales of Mossdeep

[Squeaky the sixth]

Right, Squeaky here. Now I am determined that this does not turn into a dead fic like my other one. So I've got this Chapter Written and Chapter two is around 80% done, not including proof reading. When reviewing please be honest. I like most writers value criticism and good honest criticism is rare resource hard to come by.
So I say , internet unknowns If you could could nitpick and review this, I would be very grateful. (God this sounds like a really formal letter!)
Right, now this is the story

Spoiler

Tales of Mossdeep
The Behemoth
He doesn’t look like much. A timid teenager, with wiry hair and lack of muscle. His eyes leap around the room, his sight never remaining on anything for long enough to take something in. He wears sagging trousers, some “ironic” t-shirt and a backwards cap in a cut-and-paste attempt to be a fad. He keeps on fidgeting, palms coated with sweat.

Upon seeing the huge Mossdeep gym arena, his attitude has been quashed somewhat. He wishes that he’d caught that Murkow; its immunity would come in handy here. But the little bugger had flown off, leaving him several ultra-balls down. Still, he’ll just have to make the best of his current team. He’s already gotten four badges with them after all.

“The Challenge will now begin!” a hidden loudspeaker booms, causing him to do something unmanly.

He composes himself, humming a tune in order to calm his nerves. The last he needs is for his commands to come out as gibbering. You’re the Mikey, who totally owned Watson’s three watt arse. Why Mike can take on a pair of toddlers now can’t he? Yeah! They’re going down, no questions asked. The gym trainers? Easy meat that shouldn't even be factored in. He thinks to himself.
This thinking may be suicidal and over confident, but since when did modesty get you the badges? Hell, Wallace is the most overblown person ever to stride the earth.

“You, Mike Harrison, will battle three trainers, before taking on the leader in double battle. There are a set of rules in these matches,”

Mike listens, trying to find the speaker, but he finds nothing. He shrugs. Doesn't matter anyway, if these people want to hide, they can. They’ll just have to weep in the shadows when he kicks all there arses.

“Firstly, you cannot use more than one Pokémon of the same species, so no teams of six Magikarp, mmm kay?” The sounds different this time, less foreboding and happier.

“Sister! You’ll ruin everything!” A voice that sounds like the first voice says.

“Look, I want to add some fun to this, you’re such a crap announcer. Why can’t we get good ones?”

“Because we have to pay for our university fees. We’re lucky we kept our license after last year. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Fine, fine! You comment. I’ll just go off somewhere. Fuck the double battle!”

Mike winces, having heard every word.

“No, Liza, wait. I’m sorry!” The voice sounds like it is pleading.

“Thank you Tate,”

There is a long pause. Sibling bickering? Really? Talk about breaking the mould. Now he knows this gym will be a breeze. What can psychic types do anyway, mumbo jumbo him to death?

“Ahem! You cannot use any X Drugs, and you are limited to three disposable items. You may not have duplicate held items. If you wish to forfeit a Pokémon from a match, press the green button near you,”

X-Drugs? What are X-Drugs? Judging by their illegality in this match, he assumes that they are black market. Maybe Tony knows something; he’s in with that sort of crowd. A rumbling can be heard and Mike watches as a small pit in the ground opens up and a little tower with a large green button on it rises from it.

“You may use your team of six Pokémon in these three matches. Each of your opponents shall use one Pokémon. You will not be healed between matches. Two of your Pokémon will be selected by you to fight myself and my teammate,”

“Do you understand? Puny mortal!” The speaker booms through a fit of giggles.

Mike nods, before gripping his first ball and thumbing the activation button, causing it to swell in his hand. This Pokémon is gonna wreck your psi shit!

“Very well, the first match shall be against Gym Trainer Lustrous,”

From the far side of the field, the ground opens, sending a few tremors across the field. Three glass pods arise from the gap, each one containing a gym trainer. Each one opens cleanly and without sound. Three trainers step out, with two remaining at the back. The third steps out, swaying her hips rhythmically. Damn! She is so hot! The last thing he needs is for an inopportune erection to spout. Her hair is dyed purple, and she wearing a similar outfit to him, only the saying was actually ironic. Her whole body is something that draws hungry gazes towards it and her top hugged every inch of here body, emphasizing the size of her breasts. She smiles at him and he nods back, fearing that anything coming out of his mouth would be idiotic.

Dammit! He’s here to win, not to play dates. He composes himself, mental blocking off her beauty. She’s just something to step over, nothing more.

“The match will now begin!” The loudspeaker booms again.

“Magenton! Show them you’re the best!” Mike sends his pokéball forward, thumbing the centre and watching a trail of white light burst forth.

“Mag-ne-ton,” The Pokémon that emerges from the blaze of white light mutters.
It has three eyes, each on attached to a silver node, which are stuck together in a triangle shape. A total of six magnets are attached to edge of its body, rotating with its movements. It floats with electromagnetism above the ground. He laughs, nothing can weather its tri-attack and its thunderbolts are second to none.

“Kadabra!” she commands, flinging her ball forward.

A golden, like Pokémon floats in a lotus pose above the ground. Its body looks thin, its limbs weak. It clasps two spoons in its hands, which bend forward and backwards slowly. It is a golden brown color, with a large bushy tail. Its eyes remain closed, the star on its forehead pulsing in and out. Its concentration seems so deep, its body barely moving, that Mike thinks for a moment it might be dead. Then he sees the steady rising of its chest and the gentle flickering of its mustache.

Right, don’t be gentle; beat this spoony fucker to the ground! Hit it like a truck and leave no room for error.

“Magenton! Tri-attack” He bellows, leaping in the air and thrusting his arm forward.

“Ton!” It screams, each magnet rotating frantically,

A dance of flames, a crescendo of thunder and a flurry of ice glide towards the figure, which doesn’t make any indication to move. Its trainer smiles at him again, causing Mike to shuffle awkwardly. Should he have attacked the Kadabra? Surely something just waiting for an attack would have a brutal counter attack? Thunder wave would have been better, it takes less power and it would make Tri-attack work for sure.

The blast hits it full on, causing it fall into a heap of shivering, singed and twitching limbs. He can hear the sound of flash crackling and parts of its body is encased in ice. Woah. He knew Kadabra weren’t castles when it came to defence, but he didn’t expect them to be this weak.

Inhumane sounds escape from its lips, and it is lying in a pool of blood. It moves pathetically, barely stretching its limbs forward.
Mike fights the urge to vomit, eying the noxious substance. Guilt wells up inside him and he wonders if his Pokémon has killed it. He looks up at it nervously. It just floats there, not taking anything from the carnage. He shudders, its creepy movements unnerving him. Watson’s Voltorb sure as hell didn’t look as scary when it blasted his Zubat with shockwaves.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” he wails, all potential emotions spilling out at once like a sewage vomiting into the open sea.

“Kadabra! Recover. Lick your wounds!”

It weakly flexes its hand and nothing happens. Then it stops shivering, slowly making its way to its feet. The burns across its body simply disappear, as if they were mere stains. The shocks running through its limbs halt altogether and it looks as the blow never came. Disturbing though, the blood is still pooled at its feet.

“Fuck!” Mike panics, forgetting to give a command, arms flailing like an electrocuted windmill.

“Game,” Lustrous says, as the Kadabra bends both its spoons.

Magenton screams as it is brutally torn in three, each node struggling against the arcane power. Massive power surges burst several lights and the loudspeaker curses.

“Over,”

The attack stops, leaving Magenton so weakened that it plummets to the floor, Mike calling it back.

Damn, that Kadabra is gonna be a problem. He needs aim for a kill, to take it down once and for all. All he needs is a power attack, to smash it before it can recover

“Duskull! Destroy it!” He yells, sending another ball forward.

“Skulllll,” It moans, eye bouncing around in its socket.

To say Duskull gives him the creeps would be a major understatement. Like most ghost types, Duskull has plenty of campfire stories about it, not any of them pleasant. The ghost is small, roughly the size of his head and shoulders and barely weighs five pounds. The whole of its body is a single, oddly shaped skull wrapped in an ethereal cowl.

“Duskull, double team!” He yells, pumping his fists up.

There is a blur of motion, and then over one hundred Duskull appear around Kadabra, who eyes them nervously. Ha! He knew putting those extra hours into making double team this powerful would be worth it.

“Now! Illusion barrage!”

Kadabra gasps as all the Duskulls float towards it, limiting its movement. It manages to blast a couple with lightning, which fade instantly when hit.
Then Kadabra vanishes, all of the illusions gone in a massive burst of psychic energy. Duskull remains away from the blast, floating several feet above Kadabra.

“Was that a strategy? Don’t think too hard!” Lustrous taunts.

“Scary face!” He yells, adrenaline pumping through him.

Kadabra makes a motion as if shot, as an image of Duskull’s face burns itself into its retinas. It tries to shakes of the image, but this only makes Duskull stronger. Pure fear is flowing through Kadabra’s brain, making it unable to attack.

“Now Duskull, Night shade!”

A bolt of ethereal energy fires from Duskull’s eye socket, hitting Kadabra with a low fizzle. It topples over, spoon comically whacking it on the head.

“Kadabra is knocked out!” The loudspeaker booms.

“You’ll pay!” Lustrous spits, storming off.

“The second match will be against Gym Trainer Harry,”

The second trainer looks like Mike, ten kilograms bulkier, half a foot taller and with a killer dress sense. There isn’t a single item of clothing that costs less than 100 poképounds, be it his expensive leather jacket or mirror shine shoes. Oddly enough, his hair is silver white already. His face looks tough, eyes acting as if no sight surprises them.

“Match! Begin!”

“Metagross, show him real power!” He shouts, watching as his powerhouse emerges.

“Wait, what is that thing?” Mike asks, getting his Pokédex out.

“Metagross, the Iron leg Pokémon. The evolved form of Metang, 1.6 Metres tall, 550 kilograms. Steel-Psychic types. General power level, nine. Metagross has a total of for brains and despite the fact it weighs near to a tonne it can float effortlessly by tucking its limbs into its body. Would you like further information?” The Dex says.

“No,” He mutters, confidence drained from the information.

A level nine? Damn! How the hell is he supposed to take it on? He looks it over. Four large iron legs, with three claws at their base, silver coat with a large golden cross across its body. Maw just below the X and two piercing eyes just above that. It looks like it can take on his whole team.

And it does.

Winning, no less.

A single blow from its massive claw had smashed Duskull. Hitmonchan’s punches barely dented it, and he was broken by a wave of psychic energy. Lombre was simply one-shotted by Hyper Beam, obliterating its leech seed in the process. Phanphy, bless its pachyderm heart, tried to hit it with everything. It spat mud; shot shards of ice, rolled around at it and even cried for a bit. Alas, the Pokémon was barely the size of its claw, and was swatted away like a backhanded tennis ball. His last Pokémon, Bayleaf, did manage to pull off a solar beam on it, but a lack of sunlight meant that the attack’s true power couldn’t be unleashed. A wave of intense pressure crushed it, breaking two of its legs. The moan it let out is the kind of thing that loves to make its home in nightmares.

One thing is clear. His team aren’t going to be fighting for a while. But he’ll be back, oh he’ll be back. Nothing can stop Mike, not wind, not rain and not iron crab murder-machines.
*************


“Man, this sucks!” Tate exclaims, taking a sip from his soda.

“Oh pipe down! What, was that fight against this Squeaky person not good enough for you?”

“That was four months ago sister. We haven’t had a competent challenger since,”

“Maybe Steven would be willing,”

Tate shakes his head. Liza nods in return. Steven, the sixteenth champion of Hohen, is notorious for his Pokémon’s defense. Battling him is like fighting a mountain, it’ll hardly ever directly fight back, but boy can it weather countless blows.


“Well I’m going to visit him today. You coming?” Liza asks, typing something on her computer.

“I think I’ll get drunk,” Tate replies, getting up and walking out of the room.

Liza rolls her eyes and continues to type, responding to various messages in a chat forum. She is nineteen years old and she and her brother were the youngest gym leaders ever, at just twelve years old. She isn’t wearing her gym attire; such clothes haven’t been worn in weeks. Tate is right; they need to get competent challengers and fast. Money is running dry and they are slowly sinking off the map. Hell, some people are even going to challenge Juan first! Short of an expensive airline ticket, Sotopolis city is the hardest gym town to get to, requiring expensive diving equipment and a strong swimming Pokémon. On top of that, the gym fee is simply fatal and his team leaves no room for slackers. Why the hell are they often the last to challenge then? Maybe it is the lack of strong dark types in Hohen. Sure Migthyena is good, but Houndoom is better, and they are only distributed into the safari zone from limited periods of time.

Liza has the body of a pin up model, along with her brother Tate. Tall, long, deep hair, soft, white skin. The two were blessed with good genes and a confidence beyond their years. To survive this job you need the second. That and money. She spins around on the chair a second time, letting her fingers run across her hair.

“You have mail Mistress,” Her Porygon 2 says, its bodiless voice coming out of the speaker in a calm and respectful tone.

“Thank you, Helios,” She says, opening up said mail.

Her face falls.

Oh, shit.

This is just great, she thought she was rid of them, evidently, she is not. She takes her phone out, sending out a short text to Steven, saying how she was busy and couldn't make it to see him.

Then, she takes Golduck’s and Gothia’s pokéballs from her shelf clips them to her belt with four others and goes to see her brother.


It isn't every day you bump into the former champion, but Mike does. It takes him by complete surprise.

“Are you alright?” Steven Stone asks, tapping the boy on the shoulder, his legs dangling over the cliffs.

Mike leaps up and swears the kind of swearing from somebody who was used to using them. The worst of it is drowned out by the consistent pounding of the waves on the rocks.

“I’m fine; I mean you’re Steven fucking Stone!”


Mike looks the man over. Mid-forties, grey hair, tall, thin, black eyes. Dressed like a… jogger? The concept is baffling; champions don’t do normal people things. They spend their time posing for magazine shots and standing on pedestals being shat on by Pidoves.

“You got beat pretty bad,” Steven says, coming to sit next to the boy.

Is that pop music coming from his earplugs?

“It’s not even on the TV yet,” Mike says, frowning.


“Thank you for the conformation. I've seen many come here. You can always tell they've lost. They sulk for a bit, kick a rock, swear then storm off,”

“I didn’t even get to the leader. Man I got my arse kicked pretty bad back there,”

“Your Pokémon got their “arses” kicked, not you. You’ll never stand a chance at defeating the eight unless you understand that your Pokémon are your friends in this. Not just helpers, but friends,”

“Steven sir, I don’t know what the help you’re yapping about,”

“Tell me, young man, the story of your team,”

“Well, I’ll guess I’ll start with…”

 

[Squeaky the sixth]

Right, Chapter Two is up, review if you can please. Chapter three is around 10% done.

Spoiler

Chapter two Hitmonchan

“The battle between Trainer Mike and Ace Linda shall begin. Each trainer will use two Pokémon. The surrender button is present next to you,” The referee said, waving several flags around.

Mike let a pokéball activate in his hand, his opponent mirroring his action. Linda smiled at him. It wasn’t the taunting, mocking smile used by most aces, but a genuine cheerful smile. It was the kind of smile that made the sunlight radiate into her face. Mike flung his own ball forward, his Pokémon erupting from the white light.

“Skiploom!” His Pokémon cried, hovering above the ground, flapping its arms about.

Linda leapt into the air, which caused her skirt to fly upwards with the enthusiasm of the motion. Her ball flung forward, the blue and white orb flooding an orb shaped outline onto the field.

“Elecer-trode-elec,”

Skiploom went up to Mike’s waistline. The green Pokémon hovered in the air with the use of a massive flower on top of its head. Its whole body had a plant like look and texture. This Skiploom however had a pink flower, rather than the standard white. It possessed some arms and feet, but they were so short that they were of little use to it. The whole thing was slightly squatted, with a constant cheerful grin on its face.

Electrode was much simpler to describe. A massive, upside-down pokéball.

Mike wasted no time in getting Skiploom to fire several razor leaves at her foe. The ball winced as their sharpness slashed across its body, but it remained standing.

Or right side-up in any case.

Linda waved her hand several times, tracing a lightning bolt with her fingertips. Electrode’s eyes popped out as it sent a brilliant blast of ballistic blue bolt energy at Skiploom. The grass type spun around in the air, dodging the bolt and countering with another razor leaf. Victory was soon to be assured; aside from Thunder, there was nothing the electrode could have that would be able to hit Skiploom.

“Magnet rise!” Linda commanded prompting Mike to clench his teeth and put his palm dangerously close to his face.

Electrode began to float above the air, a strong field of magnetism keeping it up to about Skiploom’s current aerial height. Skiploom responded to this new threat by hovering up higher, but before Mike could even blink, Electrode rolled into her at high speed, its body squashing over her. She let out a yelp of pain, tumbling to the ground in a deflated heap.

Linda leapt in the air again.

“Yes, Electrode! Now, I believe this cuties’ Skiploom needs to be recharged! Thunder attack now!” She screamed, taking a now blushing Mike aback.

“Skiploom! Protect!” Mike yelled, as a weak flickering barrier encased her.

The thunder crashed down, hitting the barrier with a deafening crackling and a blinding flash. Tendrils from its body stretched out everywhere across the ground and he leapt away from a stray bolt, yelling is surprise.

The protect did work, just barely. Skiploom looked at Electrode, before hovering back to its original place in the sky.

“That’s my girl!” Mike said, “Seed Bomb,”

Electrode rolled forward, as a small, brown seed appeared at the core of Skiploom’s flower. Just before the attack hit her, she fired the seed under it. The small explosion didn’t damage it, but acted as a makeshift ramp, catapulting it higher into the air.

“Solar beam!” Mike shouted, watching as Skiploom flew underneath Electrode.

She took out a small red herb from the folds of her petals and consumed it. Linda’s eyes widened and Mike smirked at her.

“Electrode! Thunder attack!” She ordered, making a massive lightning bolt gesture.

A blaze of pure, white hot energy burst forth from Skiploom’s flower. It was wide enough to cover an area of several metres around her, at shot high enough to clash with her foe’s thunder attack. The bolt was split wildly by solarbeam, one part almost searing Mike’s testicales clean off, who leapt back until his arse firmly hugged the wall.

The sound and brightness from the collision of attack was awe inspiring. Linda was busy shielding her eyes with an outstretched arm, while Mike was occupied with waiting for his heart to slow the fuck down.

The burst of searing white energy engulfed Electrode, who’s eyes popped out after being hit by the intense attack. It let out a weak moan, before beginning to plummet. Linda clapped at Mike, beaming, while returning Electrode.

“Skilled and cute!” She said to him, producing a fresh ball, “Vigoroth, time to play!”

Despite winning the round, Skiploom was in no condition to fight. Its attack may have diverted most of the thunder, but enough crackles still hit her, enough to make her gasp for breath. Fighting any more was out of the question.

Certainly not against the white furred, muscled, tall, sharped clawed beast in front of her, leaping around and flailing its arms.

Skiploom looked at it and tried to stand up. She didn’t want to lose. She wasn’t out yet! That overgrown monkey would go down easy!

“Skiploom! Return!” Mike said and Skiploom scowled as she was converted into a lance of energy.

“Alright, Linda. If you think that was talent, then I’m not sure what to call this!” Mike said, tossing his second ball forward.

“Chan, mon, mon chan mon chan,” He chanted, pounding his fists into the ground and glaring at Vigoroth.

Hitmonchan stood at around Mike’s height, but was thinner. Its skin had a light brown complexion and its face was shaped like a softball glove. The Hit in its name was there for a reason; its hands were both large red gloves. Perfect for punching out say, ugly white furred monkeys, the gloves were.

The blow connects with Vigorth’s stomach, causing him to grunt in pain. The primate snarls bring its claws down in a frenzy of strikes and slashes. A small gash appeared on Hitmonchan’s gloves, another on his face. He reeled back in pain, with his foe jumping at him like a furry facehugger on a caffeine high. He wraps his arms around the Pokémon’s thin frame, roaring and show of its poor oral hygiene.

“Now, use thunderbolt!” Lucy cheered, making yet another lightning bolt gesture.

Damn, she really liked to shock people didn’t she; Mick grimaced as his Pokémon writhed from the electrical energy surging into it. Vigorth let out a roar of triumph, before using his opponent as a board to kick in a perfect mid-air backflip. Hitmonchan knelled over, placing one fist the ground and coughing, spluttering everywhere.

Vigoroth roared again, pounding its fists on the ground as it charged towards Hitmonchan. Claws flashed in a willingness to rend skin from his foe’s body. Hitmonchan tried to steady itself for the onslaught, but it only winces in pain. Mike’s hand hovers over the surrender button.

“Hit, mon, chan!” He bellowed, standing up fully and slamming Vigoroth in the face with a focus punch.

“Nice faking!” Mike shouted.

“Feinting,” Linda informed him.

“Sky uppercut!” Mike screamed, his Pokémon punching Vigoroth clean into the air blood matting its fur.

“Now, take it down with a thunderpunch!”

Just as Vigoroth falls at eye level with Hitmonchan, its connects a blow with its stomach, a massive flash of yellow light emitting from the blow.
Vigoroth goes flying, panting heavily, eyes filled with a frenzy.

“Now, Vigoroth it is time to rest!” Vigorth nods, its body enveloped in the same light as most Pokémon using the move.

Unlike most Pokémon, it remained standing, although its eyes were glazed over in its slumber.

“You have got to be shitting me!” Mike exclaims.

“Ain’t he a darling Vigoroth? Now, sleep talk!”

Multiple copies of Vigoroth split off from the original and started to dance around. Hitmonchan looked from foe to foe; unable to determine which one was the real one. It spin punched one in the jaw, which faded instantly.

“Now, use sleep talk again!” Linda commands.

The Vigoroth all exhaled a massive combine gout of fire at Hitmonchan. Mike panicked, before noticing small up-turns of dirt in the ground.

“Hitmonchan, run into the flames. Trust me on this one pal!”

He grimaces at him but obeys, charging into the fire. It doesn’t hurt him and all the illusions flicker away. Vigoroth bursts out from its dig attack, snoring while preparing to turn Hitmonchan into bloody chunks. Hitmonchan jumps out of the way, landing perfectly and landing a blow on the monkey’s face.

“VIG-ER-OTH!” It bellows, the punch having woken it up.

“Show no mercy! Hitmonchan, Relentless Comet punch!”

Before its foe could even recuperate, Hitmonchan launched a flurry of blows all over the monkey. After the attack, the punching Pokémon jumped back, mimicking Vigorth’ backflip with its own. Vigoroth snarled, leaping at Hitmonchan with claws gleaming.

“Detect!”

“Crush claw attack!” Linda ordered, watching in dismay as the claws missed their target.

“End this now! Hitmonchan, triple element punch combo!”

The first blow was cloaked in flame, which sent Vigoroth reeling. The second was crackling with electricity, which sliced him into the air. The third used both fists, slamming down on its back in mid-air with frigid fists. The Pokémon let out a single, weak snarl, before collapsing to the floor.

“The winner is Mike! You may proceed to the next round,” The ref said, as the two recall their monsters and walk to the center of the pitch.

“Ever considering being an ace?” Linda asked, while shaking his hand.

“Never really did, no,” Mike said, smiling at her.

“Well, the exams are in September, so if you want to take a shot,”

“Next mouth, right?”

“Yes, the fiftee-,”

“I’ll be there,”
***************

Steven nods, before asking about his next team members.

“Well you see, by that point I had two badges from Unova, but I wanted a change of pace and a new team. So I decided that I would go to Hohen and enter as many tournaments as possible. The Pokémon that I felt excelled would be in my main team,”

“Did you win the battle after Hitmonchan’s fight?”

“Got to the quarter finals, but the trainer had a Salamence, burnt my Bayleaf to a crisp, can I ask you question,”

“Of course,”

“How would you beat a really powerful Pokémon?”

Steven frowned at Mike.

“Define powerful please,” He asks.

“Well, you know sir, umm, dragonite, tyraniter things like that,”

Steven smiles, understanding the boy. He produces an old and worn pokéball from his belt. The thing looks around thirty years old, clucky and robust. He calmly presses the button in the middle, watching as Cranos burst forth from the stream of white light. The Metagross observes its surroundings, scanning the area around for half a mile. Mike jumps at the sight of the beast, which merely floats there.

“That’s it, that’s the thing that kicked my, sorry my Pokémon’s arse!” Mike exclaims looking at the purple shelled beast.
Steven gets onto it, sitting down and crossing his legs.

“How about we make a deal?” Steven says, “You give me another story, and I’ll tell you how to beat the most powerful creatures?”

“Yes sir!” Mike replies.

 

[SuperTrainStationH]

So I read Chapter 1.

The pissed off, sardonic mood of the chapter kind of reminded me of something akin to if Raymond Carver had lived in the Pokémon world and wrote a fic about it, though the similarities are admittedly vague, just what came to mind.

Surprised to see a third person present tense fic. I haven't stumbled upon too many of those that I can remember, in fact I don't think I can even remember much present tense stuff going on that I've run across aside from a couple of itty bitty one shots I've written.

After Mike lost his challenge attempt and the fic seemed to shift to the gym leaders, I wondered if this was going to become a fic about the challenges of running a Pokémon Gym in the context of imposing some realistic considerations upon the Pokémon World, but as the Chapter ends with Mike about to tell the story of his team, I guess I'll be finding out as things go along the full scope of what this story entails.

Also, I smiled at the line regarding "X Drugs" for whatever reason.

I enjoyed it.

I hope to get to the second chapter sometime.

Now for some technical suggestions:

“The last he needs was for his commands to come out as gibbering.” - The "needs was" thing seems clunky to me here. Should it read "needs is"? The fact that it's present tense adds to the confusion here.

The fourth paragraph was a bit confusing because it seemed to without warning slip from a third person narrator to it becoming SECOND PERSON narration with the reader seeming to become Mike.

 

[Squeaky the sixth]

So I read Chapter 1.

The pissed off, sardonic mood of the chapter kind of reminded me of something akin to if Raymond Carver had lived in the Pokémon world and wrote a fic about it, though the similarities are admittedly vague, just what came to mind.

Surprised to see a third person present tense fic. I haven't stumbled upon too many of those that I can remember, in fact I don't think I can even remember much present tense stuff going on that I've run across aside from a couple of itty bitty one shots I've written.

After Mike lost his challenge attempt and the fic seemed to shift to the gym leaders, I wondered if this was going to become a fic about the challenges of running a Pokémon Gym in the context of imposing some realistic considerations upon the Pokémon World, but as the Chapter ends with Mike about to tell the story of his team, I guess I'll be finding out as things go along the full scope of what this story entails.

Also, I smiled at the line regarding "X Drugs" for whatever reason.

I enjoyed it.

I hope to get to the second chapter sometime.

Now for some technical suggestions:

“The last he needs was for his commands to come out as gibbering.” - The "needs was" thing seems clunky to me here. Should it read "needs is"? The fact that it's present tense adds to the confusion here.

The fourth paragraph was a bit confusing because it seemed to without warning slip from a third person narrator to it becoming SECOND PERSON narration with the reader seeming to become Mike.

Cheers. I'll try to polish it up when I get the chance.

 

[Squeaky the sixth]

Spoiler

Chapter Three Duskull.

He was cold. Not chilly, just bone deep cold. His breath condensed on the frigid air and he pulled his coat closer around himself. Sunny today with a few patches of cloud! Lies, all lies. Given all the places Mike had been in his life, Mt Pyre was the worst. Well, maybe path pain agony, but he reckoned the fruits he was given were stuffed with LSD.

The fog was too deep, causing him to stumble around all the gravestones. Nobody had bothered to clean the footpaths, so roots had invaded into them, some cracking the stone. The stairs were victim of frequent freeze-thaws, fragments of rubble spilt down onto the frozen grass.

Mike guessed that they didn’t clean the paths due to respect for the dead. Of course, soon said respect would make him one of the dead. Dying in a graveyard, was that irony? He wasn’t quite sure of that. He was sure, however of the ghosts.

He was only here because it had led him here, that bloody birdbrained bastard. On his way to his forth gym badge in Mossdeep, that little birdy had appeared. Jet black feathers, talons sharp enough to scrape his skin off with ease and small enough for him to punt it off the mountain. That wouldn’t kill it, on account of it being a flyer, but it was the action more than the result.

So he tried to catch it. This whole trip up to the top of the mountain was him and his party trying to catch it. He’d used up most of his Ultra Balls trying to get it. Hell, he could hardly hit the thing. Little son of a bitch would perch on a ledge and remain completely still. Just until the ball was just centimetres away from hitting it. Then it would tilt its body in just the right direction. The ball would then brake in twain, or at least plummet into the abyss. No less than six times had that black feathered fuckhead almost been caught. He kicked a stone in frustration, watching it pitter-patter down the steps.

He paused, hearing a low sobbing sound in the background. Normally he wouldn’t pay this any heed. Children cry all the time and soon a parent would be over to them, so he could focus on his journey. But up here on a haunted, frigid mountain there would be no parents over. He’d have to help or feel like a bastard later.

He creeps over to her, trying to come off as un-threatening as possible. She looks at him as he approaches. She looked around six, with a dirty flowery dress and hair matted with dirt. She was shivering and her fingernails were chipped and ruined. He’d have to get her out of here. He frowns, then realises that none of his Pokémon would be able to fill the request. But he’d have to do something. The cogs in his brain whirled around as he walks forward, looking at the flowers on her dress.

“Kid, hey come over here,” He said, his voice soft, his hand held out to receive hers.

She made no move, only mutters a single, drawn out word.

“Skull,” She moaned, as her eyes glazed over with a grey light.

Then a Duskull burst out of her, screeching as it confronted him. The red orb in its eye glowed a really dark hue. The child let out a gasp and scampered back behind a gravestone. The movement was more of an instinctive flee reaction than anything. He could hear her sobbing quietly. The Duskull made a sound, which sounded grating to his ears. The tone betrayed no emotion, but its movements told a different story. They were mirthful; the ghost bouncing around the air like a sugar rush on a trampoline. It seemed to ignore its past host, instead turning its attention to Mike. He swallowed, but took a ball from his waist and flung it forward

“Bayleef, stand firm,” He ordered, too unnerved to shout out.

“Bayleef!” It called, looking at its trainer and then at the Duskull.

His Pokémon stood at around close to four feet and weighted around sixteen kilograms. It somewhat resembled a dinosaur, similar to other Grass starters such as Torterra and Bulbasaur. Its skin was yellowy beige, darker around the legs and tail. It had a rim of leaves around the base of its neck and the beginning of its torso, similar to a Roman wreath. A large, sharp leaf stuck out from its forehead, with a circular gap around the centre.

“Bayleef, use safeguard protect the girl,” Mike ordered.

Bayleef nods, running over to the girl and encasing itself and her in a dome shaped barrier. Mike looked at Duskull.

“Alright you creep, ether you leave this place, or I’ll kick your arse several shades purple,” He challenged, wondering whether the ghost actually had an arse.

The creature responds by making several purple flares dance around it. It sent one flying towards the frozen grass a few feet away from him. He leapt backwards, watching as the fire remained their but, rather queerly, it didn’t spread. Rather it remained as a small ember which, after a bit, leapt a few centimetres and produced a tiny flame in its wake. The ghost then sent the remaining flames forward, forming a ring and effectively trapping him. An inventive way of using willowwisp if he ever saw it.

Mike took a second ball and prepped it in his palm. He thumbed the centre button, watching as the orb split open and spilled his Magenton out.

“Ton, ton, ton, ton, ton!” The Pokémon exclaimed, whirling its magnets around.

“Now, zap that thing there,” Mike points at the Duskull, who was weaving around in the air and being generally creepy.

Thunderbolts shot out from Mike’s Pokémon, making yellow sparks on contact with the cold air. Duskull weaved out of the way of most of them, but a tiny section of one bolt clipped part of its small arm. This causes a shockwave to course through its body, making it fall to the floor. Mike considered finishing it off, but then an idea struck him. Psychics were weak to the ethereal powers of the ghost types, due to their queer unnerving qualities interfering with their mental prowess. So naturally this little thing would help him with the upcoming gym battle.

Grinning, he prepped a ball in his hand, aims at the ghost and hurls it downwards. Now Mike wasn’t a lucky man and the Duskull was determined to stay true to his bad luck. True it couldn’t move much, but it could still fade away, meaning that his ball tumbled uselessly down the stone steps.

“Piss!” He swore, darting his head around to see his foe.

It reappeared in front of the safe guard and fired two beams of grey/red energy at the barricade. They fizzed harmlessly of the barrier and Bayleef growled at it, with the girl sobbing her eyes out. The night shade however drained most of the energy from the ghost, whose thunder wracked body fell to the floor. Mike grinned, prepping yet another pokéball.

“Right you little shit,” He muttered, flinging it at the ghost.

The ball swallowed up its prey, tilting itself upright. It wobbled once, it wobbled twice and it wobbled thrice. The ding signifying a fresh party member was so sweet to his ears. Recalling Magenton he walked over to his prize and gleefully clutched it. His mood was swiftly crushed by a taunting caw behind him.

He whirled around to see that bloody, fucking, stupid Murkcrow behind him. It remained perched on an overhanging branch, glaring mockingly at him. He didn’t want to catch this thing anyway; he just wanted to blast it to oblivion. A nice direct thunderbolt ought to fry it to satisfactory degree. But first, the girl needed help. Enjoy your last few minutes of life, you little shit, enjoy them.

“Was the girl OK?” Steven asks.

“Doctor’s said she was lucky. That Duskull was relatively young and it didn’t possess her too long. Her parents thanked me with some chocolates,” Mike explains, grimacing inside, unlike most other people he hates chocolate. He took them out of respect, and then fed them to the nearest Grimer.

“How is this Duskull now? I assume you used it in the fight,”


“Really wrecked a Kadabra’s shit, but fell afoul of that Metagross,”

Steven nods.
“Aye, great attacks on them, but they really can’t take a hit. Isn’t that right Cranos?”

“Meta,” It rumbles in agreement.

“Right, a promise is a promise. I said I’d tell you how to beat the really powerful Pokémon, and tell you I shall,”

“You know, I’ll tell you about how I fought them. I quite like this story format of yours,”

Bit of crummy ending I know, but I need to update this. Next chapter will focus of Steven and the gym leaders.
Squeaky out.