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The heralding of the weekend did nothing to soothe the nerves of the student body, and there's no better example than Phoebe and I. We're currently sitting in Lawrence's room before our mentor in the tournament, the room's co-owner (the other and his possible lover isn't present), and their two pals.
I'm alert and prepared, in contrast to Phoebe's resigned sorrow. She's wearing ordinary clothes today; namely, a black T-shirt with a circular design of sort in the middle, and dark gray sweatpants. A patchwork red and white headwrap neatly shields her raven hair. Her face states that she wishes it could cover her whole body.
"So," Aporon was the first to address us, "This is the first time we've got you two together. This is a Multi Battle tournament. You're going to have to train together as well as on your own."
Edgar was relaxed, at least for his standards. He was more wily than vehement while asking the question that was on all six of ours' minds, "So what should we make them do?"
The four began to think about this. Phoebe and I could only tensely await their decision. Aporon stroked his beard. The prep crossed his arms and looked up the the ceiling, while the nerd placed his on his knees as he gazed at the floor. Edgar remained where he was. That is to say, leaning against a wall, staring at us wickedly. Then, Lawrence snapped up, cackling.
"Heheh...make out."
The four friends laughed hard. "Not a bad idea!" the prep stated, "You two should make out."
Phoebe's face went flush red. She looked at me, then scooted about a foot away, putting up her arms in protest. "No! I...I'm not going to do THAT!"
"Okay," My reaction also involved the aforementioned color, though it was concentrated in my retinas. "What does THIS have to do with training?" Aporon mumbled something to himself under his breath. He seems to know where they're going, but is allowing them to explain. The norm for him.
"It's like, er, hey!"
"The most effective teams in Double Battles have been shown to be the ones who know one another well."
"Yeah, so you two should like...heh heh...REALLY get to know each other!"
"But," Phoebe protested. Squinting tightly, she turned her even redder face away from me. "But...no!
"Not that I'm adverse to kissing her," I began, far more composed about this scenario than my partner could hope to be, "But I think you two just made that up. So why don't you test your theory?
"What?"
"Eh?"
That was a lie. I'm not composed. I can't stop laughing to myself. "Lawrence, why don't YOU make out with your preppy friend? And make out like you mean it, too." Trying so hard to keep a straight face. I don't know how I'm succeeding in tone, but my expression has to look retarded right now. "Then me and Phoebe will battle you guys. If you win, she and I do whatever you want together. But if we win, you guys need to lay off. Do we have a deal?"
"I-um...don't want to..."
"My name is David. And the answer is no."
That shut them up. Let's keep piling it on! "Not your type? That's cool, that's cool. We could always get Edgar in on it instead."
"Fuck you."
"Westmyn," Aporon scolded.
"Fine, fine!" I said with a roll of my eyes. "I'll play ball."
Before Phoebe could react, I leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. It was more polite, or even gentlemanly than anything else. The prep, David, scoffed at this.
"You call that making out?"
"It's a start!" Walked right into it. "Besides, how would you know what making out is? I haven't seen any one of you jackasses hanging out with a girl. So why don't you shut the fuck up?"
"Westmyn. There's simply no need for that." When Aporon is calming me down, however marginal the effect, things are just bad. "Now, I had a couple things lined up for the two of you today, but I like your idea better!"
His goons responded with shock and revulsion that forced him to clarify, "I meant the battling. Not the kissing." They breathed a sigh of relief. I fully mean it though when I say that if he did make them do that, I'd take back everything I said about him. Aporon stood to his feet and stretched. "Now, it won't be any of them you'll be up against. So I have to go arrange something. Your Pokémon do need some training themselves, anyway. Just choose one each and try to coordinate something. I'll be back in ten."
##########
"That could've gone better." I remarked with a rub of my hair after we had gotten through a battle. We'd faced and defeated two teams thus far, but the second was closer than it should have been. Nidorina just didn't mesh with Phoebe's Floatzel at all, unlike Huntail. Though, both duels were more simultaneous one-on-ones than possessing anything resembling teamwork.
"I'm just glad they haven't done anything horrible so far," Phoebe said. "But the really bad stuff has to be coming, right?" The battles had been a pleasant alternative for me, but she just wasn't feeling it. Without a doubt, that's directly linked to her pessimism.
"So," I replied with a confident smile, "Why don't we leave before they get the chance?" Aporon and company had scattered about, not keeping watch on us. Edgar left for food, Lawrence had gone off somewhere, the prep and Aporon had gone to get our next opponents. We were told to wait for them, but what's there stopping us? Certainly not any random person.
Confusion washed over her as I moved towards the main building. "Come on!" I urged and motioned. "Let's hurry!"
Wasting no time, I speedwalked towards our destination on the second floor of the school. Fast enough to make good time, but not so fast as to draw unwanted attention. The only delay to my pace was the door, but it was a trite obstacle in the grand scheme of things. Before I knew it, I was before a room just two to the right of the library. My timing was impeccable.
"Thatcher, are we ready to go?" I asked, still on the approach the moment he stepped out of the doorway. We had it all planned out.
"Y-yes..." Today's the day of the big contest. His nerves are inert, which frankly, shocks the hell out of me. Neither is he overtly enthusiastic, though. Probably, the two are balancing each other out. He stood on his toes, peering over my shoulder. "Um, but where's Phoebe?"
Oh. I guess I lost her somewhere along the way, or she didn't follow? My idea was to take her as our fourth, so I could help her escape from Aporon as well. Also because Teiko and Teikō are a pair, and we couldn't just take one. "I dunno. Where's Reika?"
"She...she said she would...with her crutch...take too long. She felt really bad." That may have been the case, but Thatcher seemed to be feeling worse about it. "And she has a headache...and, you know-"
"All right, where are you shithead?!"
I instinctively ducked into the doorway. Thatcher froze up, and I didn't need to peek out to know that a more incensed than ever before Edgar was there. I used my friend's going slack as a sign to emerge. He must've ran the other direction.
"He...he looks...real mad, Fritz."
Today's been moving at breakneck pace. It's fluid though, and I'm riding the waves. Yeah! "He'll be even madder when he can't find me anywhere here! Let's go!"
Thatcher got it right away, and we bolted down the stairs. His mood picked right up. It took just over a minute to get out of the gate. There's no stopping us! We let out a cheer as we left the ground, and kept our pace as we charged forth!
~~~~~~~~~~
It's finally time. Thatcher and I are but two drops in this tub filled to the brim with contest enthusiasts. Their raised hands and thunderous plaudits made it akin to being in a raging ocean. And they're just in anticipation at present!
When a figure emerged from the gorilla position at 1PM on the dot, that sent them into overdrive. A man almost as wide as he is tall, in blue work overalls and trucker's hat, with a white shirt beneath made the crowd go berserk. I can't say for certain from these nosebleed seats, but does he shave much? I can't really tell. But...
"Man," I couldn't help but remark to my friend, "I never expected a coordinator to look like that."
"Looks can be deceiving, Fritz!" Thatcher was confident, more than happy to explain to me. And stating a credo I know all too well. "That's Ward Whalz, second-generation pupil of the legendary Juan de Maréaux!" Believe it or not, I recognize the name. I forgot from what, but I know of the guy. "Just like him and Wallace, he's a former Gym Leader of Sootopolis City, a Top Coordinator, and a Water Pokémon master. His personal thing is his line of Pokémon health-care and grooming products!"
The crowd simmered down a little as the host approached the stage. His voice is as elegant as his clothing, demonstrated when he said, "Welcome to the first official Whalz Cup. This contest today is dedicated to my mentor. Get well soon." He took off his hat in respect, displaying his almost-bald head. That was enough to silence most of the crowd. For a brief moment, anyway. "Never been keen on introductions as you all know. So let's get to it and introduce the eight that'll be competing here today."
A man in his late 20s emerged from backstage. "First, from Zurich, Switzerland. Introductions aren't necessary for the one called Gavin Seaforth." The crowd gave a mix of cheers and jeers towards this tall fellow, with a dress that clearly came from society's upper echelon. "Second, we got someone from this region here. Once a thug in a street gang, now the muscle of the hustle. From Hearthome City, Sinnoh. Stuart the Kidd." And muscle he had. In fact, he still donned his colors as a fashion statement, too. But the crowd showered the regional coordinator (who looks to be in his early-30s) with praise all the same.
"Next. From Gattai Memoire, Korea, we got a girl who gave up her life to chase a dream. Her name is Chiyun Kwon." Now that first guy was high class, but this young lady didn't need fanciful clothes to tell you that (they were actually teetering on casual). She just had that air about her; even if Whalz had said nothing about it, one'd still be able to sense her origins. She received a reasonably warm welcome.
"A veteran of the dome. Entertaining people for over 35 years. He's been Top Coordinator three times, but has vowed to win the title of Grand Master before he retires. From the Badlands of Orre, The Poffin Man himself...Randy Hulette!" The loudest pop yet. His technicolor outfit is so outlandish, it'd be stupid to even begin describing it. He's got to be in his 50s or even 60s, but age has treated him well. Unlike certain 66-year-old douchebags.
"From Saffron City, Kanto. The hardest working effort coordinator, and runner-up in last year's Johto Grand Festival. Celeste Faris!" Well, that answers my question from a couple weeks back, but I still don't see the resemblance to her cousin, Irene. Maybe she's too far removed, maybe she takes after the other side of the family. Who knows? The crowd likes her, that's all I can tell you.
"Another guy from this region." As before, the crowd lit up at this. "Love'em or hate'em, he knows how to get a response. Some call him the face of the future. Some call him a threat to our sanctity. He just calls himself a coordinator. A fourth-generation star of appeals from Floaroma, Augustus Gabriel!" Thatcher nearly sprang high out of his seat, startled by the sudden increase in volume. To me, the almost unanimously positive reaction isn't that big a surprise. Floaroma's the next township over. With such a close proximity, of course he'd be hailed as a hometown hero. And he was basking in the electricity in his frilled white and green robe. It was almost visible when he cast it off, revealing a similarly-toned suit that could befit a figure skater or even a superhero.
"One of the country's biggest foreign stars. Grew up on the rough streets of the great dividing line. Some said he'd be a Pokémon Champion some day, but he went this path. One-time Top Coordinator. From Krasnoyarsk, East Russia...Igor Wylde!" People didn't respond too well to this guy, who was not looking at all like I was expecting when I thought of Russians. Maybe they're hating him for who he is, because East Russia follows Japan's way of thought.
"Finally..." The crowd, including Thatcher, prepared themselves for what was to come. "This young woman has been called the finest coordinator to never to get near the top. Been seeking glory for six years now all across the country. A tale of success in the face of adversity. She hails from Petalburg City, Hoenn, and's been voted most enthralling celebrity of Japan two years running. Everyone. Maribel...Capdevila!"
Thatcher sprang high, this time with intent. The exuberance provided was almost equal to that of Augustus Gabriel. I'd say it just falls short, but I couldn't hear a single boo to compensate.
From the halls marched a young woman with an outfit that could make my cousin Estelle jealous. Seemingly simple, yet practically not. Like...where do I begin here? Most of her apparel is a strawberry tint. A vest over a black undershirt with long sleeves, matching shoulder cloth, and what looks like the lower half of a dress or a huge skirt. Her hair flows like a river of scarlet, but it's not the only fluid thing on her person - a dark cloak or cape ripples behind her as well. Black heels, long white socks that extend who knows how far into the aforementioned dress, and a big blue bow tie.
"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Thatcher has to be a serious contender for most delighted person in the arena at the moment, if not the world. It's really nice seeing him happy like this.
The eight participants lined up before Whalz. "All right, so you all entered your six Pokémon. Now let's get right down to talkin' about how this'll work. First round. Eight enter, four leave. You all use one Pokémon apiece. Simple. Second round. Two Pokémon to a side, two coordinators who advance. Last round. The best of three performances. Winner gets the Whalz Ribbon. Worth eight points for any region. The catch here is, you can only use a Pokémon once."
"Neat concept," I whispered to Thatcher, "I've never heard of anything like this before."
"Yeah," he said, "These kinds of contests are really unique!"
"You'd have to think about which Pokémon to use and when."
"Maribel would want to save her best Pokémon for the fights she'd really need them on!"
I smiled to myself. I wasn't expecting him to pick up on that. "And on the other hand, she doesn't want to be too conservative, or she might lose early. Depending on how well she knows her opponents too, she might have to consider all potential possibilities."
Whalz began to speak once more. "The matchups will proceed according to seeding. First up. Number two against number seven. Higher seed gets the benefit of choosing second this round."
The East Russian - and again, I'd like to stress the fact that I would not believe he was from that country if I was not told so - marched over to onto one side of the battlefield. As the other six made their way back, The Kidd strided into position opposite Wylde, sending out his Pokémon first. A tree-like demon, face and back covered by silky white fur. It's got a sharp nose, goblin ears, a solid body of redwood, and fanblade-like leaves for hands.
It was put up against a vaguely humanoid blob with hair just as long and pale, but being frozen being the cause for the tone instead. A dark form shrouding itself in a vermillion and citrine robe. Pouty lips and twisted arms jut out from its body.
"So who do you think's gonna win this one?" I asked Thatcher. He'd know better than me.
"Huh?" he started, "I dunno, I never really...paid attention to either of them. Too much. But..." He seemed to be musing something.
"Ice is normally good on Grass," I pointed out, placing an educated guess on their typings forward.
"But Dark is good on Psychic, isn't it?" Thatcher asked. When I nodded to confirm that is the general case, he told me, "Shiftry is Grass and Dark, but Jynx is Ice and Psychic. A normal battle, I guess it'd be about even...but in a contest, and with these two, I dunno."
Little by little, I think I'm starting to get it. I have to admit, I was a little skeptical going in. But this is pretty enjoyable so far. It's not often I get to spend time with my friends either, with the situation being how it is, so that's a plus as well. With the two Pokémon out, Ward Whalz took a seat at a table on the sidelines, alongside four other individuals.
"Get ready for contests, all! Begin the matchup!"
~~~~~~~~~~
As the tournament played out, Igor Wylde had a good back and forth with Stuart the Kidd, before kicking it up and trouncing him soundly. The Poffin Man with Magmar and Celeste Faris with Solrock went to the judge's panel. They gave the nod to the former, which the crowd wasn't too happy about.
Next came the match involving Thatcher's idol. This one ended pretty uniquely. Seaforth's Manectric pulled out a Wild Charge, but Capdevila's Mawile caught it in its jaw, tossed it, then fired the conducted electricity out for the KO. In Augustus Gabriel vs. Chiyun Kwon, the latter's Venomoth attempted a powder display, which was foiled by a simple blast of water from the former's Wartortle. It wasn't affected directly by the stream, but the good news ended there for the Korean performer. Her Pokémon ultimately fell by virtue of a Rapid Spinning Hydro Pump.
He then found himself being confronted by Capdevila. The two glared at each other from about three feet away. Words were exchanged. No one could hear them, the content of the trash talk being left to the imagination. Gabriel eventually moved and retrieved a microphone.
"Say what you want. You're on my turf now, Maribel. Here in Moldeau Town, Sinnoh!" Though many of these people had to be from across the nation, they still ate right out of his hand. He had a deterministic twinkle in his eye. Or maybe it was a tear. "I'm not going to lose to you. I can't lose to you! Not today!"
The crisp reply was audible. "You've nerve, but nerve only goes so far."
Thatcher nudged me. "This is really personal," he whispered, "I know they've had a heated rivalry, but this is...you know, it's...something new."
"Must be the setting," I suggested. "Or maybe the stakes." Either or both would be a factor for these changes.
That little incident was followed by a thirty-minute break. The second round of the contest began in the precise manner the first round ended. Two hated rivals, staring each other down.
Capdevila grasped two capsules between fingers. She threw them with style and grace, which garnered a cheer before they even emerged.
The first one. It's...a shrub? Not exactly the most intimidating of Pokémon, but that's contests, I guess. Even though a creature as black as the night is cloaked within - with a pointy nose and four crested horns - it's actually more cute than anything else. Its grassy body is top-shaped, and I guess it gets around with either tiny little legs or by hopping. Maybe spinning. I'll find out soon, I suppose.
Her other is a mustached tub of lard, that briefly reminded me of Lapras. Its glossy body is primarily a sky blue, with a sunny patch on its belly and some cloudy white spots. This thing is sort of an eggplant shape. A deformed eggplant, anyway.
"Wow!" exclaimed Thatcher. "I was expecting her to use her Wormadam on Augustus, but I never knew she had a Sealeo!"
"It's something you haven't seen before?"
"Well, not from Maribel!" he replied, "I was expecting her Absol, not that!"
"If that's the case, then that might be why she's using it." I've seen this sort of tactics before, and actually, "It's like when I used Huntail against Aporon. Um, except she probably was raising it on the side just to pull it out as a surprise here. And I was kinda, well."
"I see what you mean. She thought Augustus was th-thinking she would use Absol, but so she...umm..."
"She used something different."
"Yes! Awesome! Let's see what the little sealion can do!"
It may be a sealion, but the first of Augustus Gabriel's Pokémon is a true, vicious feline. It could probably go toe-to-toe with the king of the jungle and hold its own. The creature's fur - which is largely standing on end - is mostly black with a little bit of blue. You can only make out so much from far away, but I can see its long tail is adorned with a golden, cross-shaped object.
And I don't know how to describe that massive bell-like object. Ancient markings line it, but where they come from is another question. On one hand, its upper part are these two curved pieces come together, sort of looking like the outline of a nun's habit, or perhaps a chapel, or I dunno. It just looks Holy, heavenly, or something. Then again, you probably wouldn't associate glowing red eyes with anything except something from Hell. Gravity doesn't seem to be a problem for it, wherever it originated.
"His Luxray is dangerous," Thatcher remarked, "Bronzong isn't a slouch either! But I know Maribel can do this!"
The signal to start came from the ref. Capdevila's Pokémon jumped into action right away on her command. Wormadam hopped up on top of Sealeo's nose and span about, spewing Bullet Seeds as its ally balanced it on top. Not wanting to be left out, Gabriel made his Luxray run beneath its own partner and fire electricity, which conducted out in the upper piece of Bronzong while illuminating itself in the glow.
Sealeo tossed up Wormadam and went into an awkward but functional Defense Curl. The plant landed upside-down while firing String Shot. After a moment, it grew to a larger size and flipped over so it was the one doing the balancing. Luxray permeated a brilliant Flash from its whole body, followed up by Bronzong tilting and using Flash Cannon at a course that had to have been intentionally off for the sake of being more luminous.
"Looks like they're just testing the waters now."
"Yeah," Thatcher agreed, "They're be-being careful."
A standoff. Even I'm on the edge of my seat in anticipation. The Pokémon took initiative. Luxray took up a threatening stance, attempting to stare its foes down. Sealeo couldn't see it, and Wormadam wasn't impressed. The latter fired a couple Bullet Seeds at Bronzong in reply, but they just glanced off. The Pokémon remained still after this.
The coordinators' orders were in-sync with one another. Luxray loosed a powerful Thunderbolt from its fur, just as Wormadam shot Sealeo out at a high speed. The bagworm shrugged off the electrical attack, but Bronzong was knocked to the ground by the fast-moving seal. It proceeded to uncurl and turn to face Luxray just as Luxray turned to face it. But that gave Wormadam a chance to charge and shoot it with an Energy Ball.
"Woohoo! Go, Maribel!!"
When Luxray turned again, it got hit with a Water Gun that sent it between its two foes. Capdevila took up a deterministic stance as she gave a command, and her Pokémon used Seed Bomb and Water Pulse respectively.
Whatever she was up to with that, Bronzong intervened. A simple Psywave repulsed the attacks without issue. Luxray recovered and ran behind the bell. After a bit of focusing, it fired Shock Wave after Shock Wave The two Pokémon were forced to flee to the line before Bronzong - the only accessible space safe from the barrage. With a point from its trainer, the ancient construct began to repeatedly use Gyro Ball. Wormadam and Sealeo were having extreme difficulty consistently dodging this assault in the limited space available.
"This is bad!" Thatcher panicked. "What'll she do? Fritz, what do you think Maribel should do?!"
"I don't know her Pokémon's attacks..." I pointed out. Thatcher frowned and began to chew on his nails. I've actually seen something like this a few times before. One or two Pokémon stopping the foes' lateral movement, and one on-point to attack straight forward. It looks overwhelming, but actually isn't too horrible to deal with.
Capdevila seemed to think of something, though. Sealeo sat up and began to clap. Bronzong perked up at this applause...falling for that Encore.
Thatcher was left scratching his head. "Why'd she do that?"
"It looks like she's locking Gabriel's Bronzong into that move, so it can't react to whatever she has planned next."
I could barely hear his thoughts spoken aloud, "What could she be planning next?" Thatcher focused hard. And then snapped up. "Of course! Her Wormadam's Secret Power!"
The ground around Luxray began to tremble. Before it could respond, the ground burst out from beneath it. The black and blue Pokémon was launched about a meter into the air. With the Shock Waves out of the picture, Capdevila's Pokémon split off from each other, circling around their two foes from different directions.
Gabriel's cursing could be heard from up here, "Sabotage me, will you?! Luxray, backup plan!"
Luxray picked itself up and began launching precision Thunderbolts at the Gyro Balls - being aimed for Wormadam. The electrified rotor blades looked impressive, but were quite easy for the plant to evade. Meanwhile, a quicker Sealeo had already bounded into position. It strained hard...but the effort paid off when the pieces of shattered earth came together as a Rock Tomb! Wormadam started to coat it in String Shot, but Augustus Gabriel was having none of that.
His Luxray charged forward, trembling violently. It crashed into the stone that was being set up, shattering it into hundreds, if not thousands of tiny fragments. Doing this took a lot out of it; the feline-like Pokémon nearly collapsed trying to recover from the powerful move.
"Wow."
"B-but...but why would he Giga Impact the rock?!"
"I don't know," I told him, "But now's Maribel's chance!"
And indeed, she was already giving orders to Wormadam and Sealeo to put something together...but Bronzong never let them capitalize on the opportunity. A deafening tone, half clanging and half scraping, rang out. The two Pokémon were halted by the Metal Sound.
A recovering Luxray bared its...Sealeo emitted a...Wormadam began...Bronzong...wow. The battle is breaking down. It's not on the Pokémon's ends, either - at least, I'm guessing it's not from how the two opponents stand. The pure hatred each has for the other is just...
"This is not what I expected from a top level contest."
"It's....wh-what...why are they...no..."
The crowd already baffled as the Pokémon were brawling, the end came so suddenly that it took like fifteen seconds to register. Luxray's tail became as hard as steel, smashing Sealeo across the arena with a thunderous CRACK that made me wonder if it was electrified as well. Bronzong was ready as the mustached blue Pokémon rolled over to it. A vicious Solarbeam shot out of its inside, wasting the sealion. Wormadam's response was swift and as brutal. Luxray got assaulted by a vicious Leaf Storm, opening up numerous cuts on its body, only being spared when Bronzong made the save. It enveloped Wormadam; the only clue to the Flash Cannons it was doing being the strobing light they gave off. When bell came up, the plant Pokémon was down.
"Wh-what?"
Whalz stood and made the announcement, "Winner of this matchup by defeat, Augustus Gabriel."
Thatcher's eyes went wide. The kind of expression that says one can't believe this is happening. "I...I...what...no. Maribel...she...no! No!"
Hey, what the?
"Thatcher, where are you going?!" He launched himself from his seat and took off. And I was hyped to see whoever won between Wylde and The Poffin Man beat this guy into the ground. After a pause of shock, I scrambled my feet in pursuit.
##########
My efforts to follow my friend were in vain. I lost sight of him right as I left the Contest Hall.
In fact, only way later was I able to meet back up with him. After several hours of attempting to find him on my own, I thought to take a different approach. To go somewhere helpful, rather than aimlessly wandering. But even with the aid of the Traveling Hobos, the sun had all but completely set by the time I saw results. At this point, I'm just thankful they found something.
"Are you sure it's him?" I asked en route, somewhat pointlessly. I don't know what I was thinking with that question. Maybe I underestimate the effect this had on me.
"Indeed it is," Mr. Gruff said. "He is among the distraught individuals I have seen, and that is counting the highest sorrows from Boozer! I believe it would be best if you spoke to him yourself."
I don't know what part of town this is. It's not one I recognize. The darkened state of the city isn't helping affairs - I've mentioned its energy conservation to reduce skyglow before, and though being in-town after nightfall isn't something I'm foreign to, I've never been in the heart of downtown at that time before. It's surreal, really. Eventually, we hung a left into an alleyway, where I spotted my friend.
Thatcher sits on an old zaffer couch. It's seen worse days, in spite of numerous tears along the sides. I can tell that must have been patched up at some point. Similar places to sit or lie down are in this alley as well, including a couple of mattresses and a rocking chair - the only damage to the latter appearing to have come from weather. Oddly enough, they all look just a little better maintained than the pavement.
The only source of lighting here are the lights on the two buildings with back exits, as well as one with inactive vents. At full-on night, they'd likely be barely adequate. In the former two instances, a wheeled dumpster is near the door. The assorted litter in the alley probably came from there given the proximity, cast out by the wind and not by a human.
"Thanks, Mr. Gruff. You too, Biggie."
I had to tilt my head way back to acknowledge the latter individual, who has to be at least seven feet tall. A couple other individuals in the alley joined them, likely watching over Thatcher before we arrived. Biggie's nod was the only response any of the men gave, before leaving us.
"Where did you go? What happened?" I asked once they left. I hoped that two questions at once would not be overwhelming as I walked over.
Thatcher turned away in shame. A bowl of soup sits in his lap; he took a small sip from it before speaking. "I...didn't...I couldn't...didn't want to stay to see the rest. I-I wanted to go back to...to the school. But...I-I got...I didn't know how...where to go." He forced himself, turning his head with his hands, to face me. "Fritz...I'm s-sorry."
"You all right?" I asked as I sat down. That's the only thing on my mind at the moment. His reaction back there or having to search for him didn't really bother me.
"N-not...I don't...I just don't know. It's just that..." Thatcher's voice trailed off. He took an incredibly deep breath, "I mean, I know it's just a c-contest, but..." With that, he let out the excess all at once. My eyes spotted a splash of liquid in his soup. I peered up and held out my hand. Is it raining? No, there's no drops of rain falling onto me. So...is Thatcher crying? What could be bothering him? It can't be just that, can it?
There was no need to chance asking, as he began to elaborate on his own. "I...I've been watching Maribel from the day she started out..." he lamented, trembling in sorrow. "She...her dream...I really like how she was able to follow it. But...if you look at someone...I mean, I don't mean any offense, but..."
When he went silent, I queried, "But?"
He sighed. "Augustus Gabriel was born...well, his dad...grandma and great-grandpa...they were all coordinators. But Maribel...her parents weren't. She wanted to be one, and she did. I...I really like that. She followed her own dream. And she's...i-it's just..."
"What?"
"Maribel...I've never seen her get...seen her win something big. It's...it's not that she lost. It's just..." Thatcher abruptly placed his bowl down with a sigh. He stood, legs managing to not falter beneath him. He admitted quietly, "I was sure she was going to win this time."
My friend walked forth in anguish. I only watched as he moved over to one of the mattresses in the alley and lied back. The words he said...the ones that put his reaction in perspective. They were spoken as a faint, quivering whisper.
"If Maribel can't do it, what chance do I have?"
And so the pieces fall into place. Sort of. Well, there's something I can say about that, so I may as well say it.
"Thatcher, there's lots of people out there who have trouble with that. It's just something that can't really be explained." I paused. Thinking. Maybe. "You can still go for it. And besides...it's just one contest. It's not over for her yet, is it?"
"You're...you're right. You're right!" He perked right up, grinning from ear to ear. "There's always the Grand Festival! Maribel's got to be able to win that!" He had a smile and deterministic look in his eye as his clenched a fist. "No, I know she's going to win!"
His attitude having done a complete 180, Thatcher turned to me with a more relaxed demeanor. "Thanks, Fritz," he said, "I really needed that."
He cheered up...a little too quickly there. I don't want to jump to any conclusons just yet, but he might not want to dwell on this at all. I mean, it could have been a simple overreaction. But my words may very well just be a temporary fix for an ongoing problem. I guess we'll see what happens. But for now...
"Let's head back. I imagine Reika must be worried sick."
A nod. "We should. And hopefully the school will be...will..."
"The gates should still be open. It's dark, but it's not too late." Actually just making an educated guess there. I really don't know the schedule, or whether the fire incident would have affected it. "But if not, we've slept in the outdoors and in-town before." I looked outward. "Come on, let's get the hobos to lead us back."
Well...the day started off nice at least. That has to count for something, right? No...it doesn't really. By the look on Thatcher's face, even he's starting to have the stress get to him. All we can do is cross our fingers, and pray for a better tomorrow. I know I said something like that yesterday...but the upswing has to be looming. It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when. How long is it going to be, though?
Stellar Flaze:
Weird, I wasn’t going for slow-paced there. Aside from that one part where both Pokes are hurt. It was probably the way it was narrated, then.
Backstory: when I was looking around for male Japanese names for Ms. Odell to use, I noticed Teikō - which was close to Teiko. I thought it would be funny if there was a couple who had similar names; plus it gives a face to otherwise faceless individuals.
FUN FACT: In the original draft, I did sum it up. I even still have that part. However, I decided that between showing the teachers again, as well remembering as show, don’t tell, it was better to have it the way I did it. It also let me do a bit more development and expositioning of their characters.
Here's the beta version of the original part, for your viewing pleasure. Also note a few differences, most notably Mr. Yamaguchi not being against Fritz.
Heh, Aie said that he liked Fritz' flip-flopping opinion on her. She is a nice breath of fresh air though, isn't she? Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.
Yeah, though none really reach the level of crazy of Ina, lol.
I'm glad I pulled it off well.
He was going to.
But Aporon got in the way.
Gotpika:
Fair point. Though she's had it for over six years. On the other hand, the point I was trying to get across was Reika's inability, rather than Snowy's ability. I'll keep it in mind for later, though.
I was wondering that myself for the longest time. >_> I was half-caught between keeping it at four or switching it to three or what else. Then there were a bunch of other little things. In short, I hope the following chapter turned out okay.
Heh heh.
Well, there was originally going to be a scene where - riding the momentum of the Art class being in the state that it was in - Liane would suggest something in her block for all the Art blocks to participate in (solving all Ms. Odell's problems at once) that would effectively put Thatcher's tickets up for grabs. There was just too much going on in 2-4 as-is to write it in, though. So I'll have to find another way to follow it up...
Good point on the Pokemon thing. *added a line to point that out in this chapter*
Another case of me not being exactly clear. Aporon was training Fritz, and his cronies were training Phoebe. The maid thing was Edgar and Lawrence's idea. David didn't stop them, taking an approach like Aporon in finding a way to justify it...but he clearly didn't really support them either.
Actually, it is all one word: Zooarchaeology - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia .
AiedailEclipsed:
The external reason for the switcharound was so that Socials could be last on Wednesday. Though I never did figure out the internal reason.
But Fritz is single. What does that tell you? Or to be more specific, what do you think Ms. Odell thinks...?
Shugiri is pretty fun to write.
There's an explanation for everything~
Was figuring out how to write her in more. And, this worked!
Except when it's a dirty Glaceon, of course. ;P
Hehe.
She's quite the crazy/overly positive one, yeah.
oh gosh~
One after this.
Weird, I wasn’t going for slow-paced there. Aside from that one part where both Pokes are hurt. It was probably the way it was narrated, then.
Backstory: when I was looking around for male Japanese names for Ms. Odell to use, I noticed Teikō - which was close to Teiko. I thought it would be funny if there was a couple who had similar names; plus it gives a face to otherwise faceless individuals.
FUN FACT: In the original draft, I did sum it up. I even still have that part. However, I decided that between showing the teachers again, as well remembering as show, don’t tell, it was better to have it the way I did it. It also let me do a bit more development and expositioning of their characters.
Here's the beta version of the original part, for your viewing pleasure. Also note a few differences, most notably Mr. Yamaguchi not being against Fritz.
As April gave way to the month of May, peace was able to return to Moldeau. Even a couple hours removed from my hearing it, the relief washing over the citizens of the town and students of Rukh's University alike was immediate. The school was set to reopen on the Tuesday. The day when the calendar would be turned to the next page.
When that page turned, it was immediately apparent: everything was a gigantic clusterfuck.
May as well start from day one. Biology came first in the morning, and that was deceptively unaffected. Indeed, the good doctor proceeded to teach the class as if nothing had happened. He continued from two weeks ago, precisely where we had left off. This innocuous air was compounded by the - for once - pleasant arrival of Cronus Aporon during lunch. He kept the chat brief, saying that the Tactics tournament would not be affected by the switch-up. Come May 18th, it would begin. The class went smoothly as he advertised, although the same could not be said for Mr. Yamaguchi's class. But let's not get ahead of ourselves - those classes came on the second day.
Afternoon of the first came Art class, and hoo boy. Where do I even begin? I'm caught between trying to summarize what happened from my own viewpoint, and telling what happened piece by piece. So I'll do both. Ms. Odell was having a meltdown. She had no idea what to do, after having missed a week's lessons and not having taught this grouping a single lesson thanks to her day of introductions coupled with the assembly.
<NOT WRITTEN>
Again, as Aporon had proclaimed, Tactics class proceeded as nothing had happened. In fact, not once did Mr. Baiaz even bring up the forest fire; I only heard mention of it from conversations my classmates were having.
But Mr. Yamaguchi in Socials. That class also proceeded as if nothing had happened. While this was good news for an open class such as in the morning, the foreboding could be instantly sensed by even the densest of our block in the afternoon. The silence was deafening as we waited for him to speak. Unlike Art, there was a clear lesson plan in place for this class from the very beginning of the year. A plan that, despite the shock of the incident in the forest, would be stuck to regardless of the actions of other individuals.
"Oh, god damn it." were the words I rasped as soon as I heard it. I wasn't the only one who could tell right away where this was headed, but my friends were a little slower on the draw.
"What do you mean-" Reika started to ask, as our teacher began to elaboarte.
"Today, on May 2nd, you will be learning of what I had planned for you to learn on May 2nd. The reading and work from the week missed will be for you to do this week on your own time."
"...oh, god DAMN it." Reika cursed, and for once, her complaints were among the quieter. Pleas, logical debate, and even verbal abuse was being thrown at the teacher, but he was having none of it. Mr. Yamaguchi was sticking to his carefully crafted plan, and there was nothing anyone could do to change his mind.
So yeah. A week's worth of assignments PLUS the stuff being assigned. All the first-years were invariably screwed over, and judging by how the elevated stress level was spread closer to 80% than 30% amongst the students as a whole, I'm guessing more than one other class followed suit. And with all this garbage being thrown my way all at the same time, there's very little time to be doing anything. I like to stay positive though - this also means I won't have to put up with Aporon and his goons as much.
When that page turned, it was immediately apparent: everything was a gigantic clusterfuck.
May as well start from day one. Biology came first in the morning, and that was deceptively unaffected. Indeed, the good doctor proceeded to teach the class as if nothing had happened. He continued from two weeks ago, precisely where we had left off. This innocuous air was compounded by the - for once - pleasant arrival of Cronus Aporon during lunch. He kept the chat brief, saying that the Tactics tournament would not be affected by the switch-up. Come May 18th, it would begin. The class went smoothly as he advertised, although the same could not be said for Mr. Yamaguchi's class. But let's not get ahead of ourselves - those classes came on the second day.
Afternoon of the first came Art class, and hoo boy. Where do I even begin? I'm caught between trying to summarize what happened from my own viewpoint, and telling what happened piece by piece. So I'll do both. Ms. Odell was having a meltdown. She had no idea what to do, after having missed a week's lessons and not having taught this grouping a single lesson thanks to her day of introductions coupled with the assembly.
<NOT WRITTEN>
Again, as Aporon had proclaimed, Tactics class proceeded as nothing had happened. In fact, not once did Mr. Baiaz even bring up the forest fire; I only heard mention of it from conversations my classmates were having.
But Mr. Yamaguchi in Socials. That class also proceeded as if nothing had happened. While this was good news for an open class such as in the morning, the foreboding could be instantly sensed by even the densest of our block in the afternoon. The silence was deafening as we waited for him to speak. Unlike Art, there was a clear lesson plan in place for this class from the very beginning of the year. A plan that, despite the shock of the incident in the forest, would be stuck to regardless of the actions of other individuals.
"Oh, god damn it." were the words I rasped as soon as I heard it. I wasn't the only one who could tell right away where this was headed, but my friends were a little slower on the draw.
"What do you mean-" Reika started to ask, as our teacher began to elaboarte.
"Today, on May 2nd, you will be learning of what I had planned for you to learn on May 2nd. The reading and work from the week missed will be for you to do this week on your own time."
"...oh, god DAMN it." Reika cursed, and for once, her complaints were among the quieter. Pleas, logical debate, and even verbal abuse was being thrown at the teacher, but he was having none of it. Mr. Yamaguchi was sticking to his carefully crafted plan, and there was nothing anyone could do to change his mind.
So yeah. A week's worth of assignments PLUS the stuff being assigned. All the first-years were invariably screwed over, and judging by how the elevated stress level was spread closer to 80% than 30% amongst the students as a whole, I'm guessing more than one other class followed suit. And with all this garbage being thrown my way all at the same time, there's very little time to be doing anything. I like to stay positive though - this also means I won't have to put up with Aporon and his goons as much.
Heh, Aie said that he liked Fritz' flip-flopping opinion on her. She is a nice breath of fresh air though, isn't she? Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.
Yeah, though none really reach the level of crazy of Ina, lol.
I'm glad I pulled it off well.
He was going to.
But Aporon got in the way.Gotpika:
Fair point. Though she's had it for over six years.
On the other hand, the point I was trying to get across was Reika's inability, rather than Snowy's ability. I'll keep it in mind for later, though.I was wondering that myself for the longest time. >_> I was half-caught between keeping it at four or switching it to three or what else. Then there were a bunch of other little things. In short, I hope the following chapter turned out okay.
Heh heh.
Well, there was originally going to be a scene where - riding the momentum of the Art class being in the state that it was in - Liane would suggest something in her block for all the Art blocks to participate in (solving all Ms. Odell's problems at once) that would effectively put Thatcher's tickets up for grabs. There was just too much going on in 2-4 as-is to write it in, though. So I'll have to find another way to follow it up...
Good point on the Pokemon thing. *added a line to point that out in this chapter*
Another case of me not being exactly clear. Aporon was training Fritz, and his cronies were training Phoebe. The maid thing was Edgar and Lawrence's idea. David didn't stop them, taking an approach like Aporon in finding a way to justify it...but he clearly didn't really support them either.
Actually, it is all one word: Zooarchaeology - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia .
AiedailEclipsed:
Thatcher was going to point out that they might've kept to the old schedule so they don't have an imbalance of classes. e.g. they've have more of the two classes than the two others through the year. He stopped that thought when he realizes it would've been the same anyway - just in the opposite order (e.g. Art in the morning, Biology in the afternoon)
The external reason for the switcharound was so that Socials could be last on Wednesday. Though I never did figure out the internal reason.
But Fritz is single. What does that tell you? Or to be more specific, what do you think Ms. Odell thinks...?
Shugiri is pretty fun to write.
There's an explanation for everything~
Was figuring out how to write her in more. And, this worked!
Except when it's a dirty Glaceon, of course. ;P
Hehe.
She's quite the crazy/overly positive one, yeah.
oh gosh~
One after this.
----------
Chapter 2-5: Showoff Showdown
The heralding of the weekend did nothing to soothe the nerves of the student body, and there's no better example than Phoebe and I. We're currently sitting in Lawrence's room before our mentor in the tournament, the room's co-owner (the other and his possible lover isn't present), and their two pals.
I'm alert and prepared, in contrast to Phoebe's resigned sorrow. She's wearing ordinary clothes today; namely, a black T-shirt with a circular design of sort in the middle, and dark gray sweatpants. A patchwork red and white headwrap neatly shields her raven hair. Her face states that she wishes it could cover her whole body.
"So," Aporon was the first to address us, "This is the first time we've got you two together. This is a Multi Battle tournament. You're going to have to train together as well as on your own."
Edgar was relaxed, at least for his standards. He was more wily than vehement while asking the question that was on all six of ours' minds, "So what should we make them do?"
The four began to think about this. Phoebe and I could only tensely await their decision. Aporon stroked his beard. The prep crossed his arms and looked up the the ceiling, while the nerd placed his on his knees as he gazed at the floor. Edgar remained where he was. That is to say, leaning against a wall, staring at us wickedly. Then, Lawrence snapped up, cackling.
"Heheh...make out."
The four friends laughed hard. "Not a bad idea!" the prep stated, "You two should make out."
Phoebe's face went flush red. She looked at me, then scooted about a foot away, putting up her arms in protest. "No! I...I'm not going to do THAT!"
"Okay," My reaction also involved the aforementioned color, though it was concentrated in my retinas. "What does THIS have to do with training?" Aporon mumbled something to himself under his breath. He seems to know where they're going, but is allowing them to explain. The norm for him.
"It's like, er, hey!"
"The most effective teams in Double Battles have been shown to be the ones who know one another well."
"Yeah, so you two should like...heh heh...REALLY get to know each other!"
"But," Phoebe protested. Squinting tightly, she turned her even redder face away from me. "But...no!
"Not that I'm adverse to kissing her," I began, far more composed about this scenario than my partner could hope to be, "But I think you two just made that up. So why don't you test your theory?
"What?"
"Eh?"
That was a lie. I'm not composed. I can't stop laughing to myself. "Lawrence, why don't YOU make out with your preppy friend? And make out like you mean it, too." Trying so hard to keep a straight face. I don't know how I'm succeeding in tone, but my expression has to look retarded right now. "Then me and Phoebe will battle you guys. If you win, she and I do whatever you want together. But if we win, you guys need to lay off. Do we have a deal?"
"I-um...don't want to..."
"My name is David. And the answer is no."
That shut them up. Let's keep piling it on! "Not your type? That's cool, that's cool. We could always get Edgar in on it instead."
"Fuck you."
"Westmyn," Aporon scolded.
"Fine, fine!" I said with a roll of my eyes. "I'll play ball."
Before Phoebe could react, I leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. It was more polite, or even gentlemanly than anything else. The prep, David, scoffed at this.
"You call that making out?"
"It's a start!" Walked right into it. "Besides, how would you know what making out is? I haven't seen any one of you jackasses hanging out with a girl. So why don't you shut the fuck up?"
"Westmyn. There's simply no need for that." When Aporon is calming me down, however marginal the effect, things are just bad. "Now, I had a couple things lined up for the two of you today, but I like your idea better!"
His goons responded with shock and revulsion that forced him to clarify, "I meant the battling. Not the kissing." They breathed a sigh of relief. I fully mean it though when I say that if he did make them do that, I'd take back everything I said about him. Aporon stood to his feet and stretched. "Now, it won't be any of them you'll be up against. So I have to go arrange something. Your Pokémon do need some training themselves, anyway. Just choose one each and try to coordinate something. I'll be back in ten."
##########
"That could've gone better." I remarked with a rub of my hair after we had gotten through a battle. We'd faced and defeated two teams thus far, but the second was closer than it should have been. Nidorina just didn't mesh with Phoebe's Floatzel at all, unlike Huntail. Though, both duels were more simultaneous one-on-ones than possessing anything resembling teamwork.
"I'm just glad they haven't done anything horrible so far," Phoebe said. "But the really bad stuff has to be coming, right?" The battles had been a pleasant alternative for me, but she just wasn't feeling it. Without a doubt, that's directly linked to her pessimism.
"So," I replied with a confident smile, "Why don't we leave before they get the chance?" Aporon and company had scattered about, not keeping watch on us. Edgar left for food, Lawrence had gone off somewhere, the prep and Aporon had gone to get our next opponents. We were told to wait for them, but what's there stopping us? Certainly not any random person.
Confusion washed over her as I moved towards the main building. "Come on!" I urged and motioned. "Let's hurry!"
Wasting no time, I speedwalked towards our destination on the second floor of the school. Fast enough to make good time, but not so fast as to draw unwanted attention. The only delay to my pace was the door, but it was a trite obstacle in the grand scheme of things. Before I knew it, I was before a room just two to the right of the library. My timing was impeccable.
"Thatcher, are we ready to go?" I asked, still on the approach the moment he stepped out of the doorway. We had it all planned out.
"Y-yes..." Today's the day of the big contest. His nerves are inert, which frankly, shocks the hell out of me. Neither is he overtly enthusiastic, though. Probably, the two are balancing each other out. He stood on his toes, peering over my shoulder. "Um, but where's Phoebe?"
Oh. I guess I lost her somewhere along the way, or she didn't follow? My idea was to take her as our fourth, so I could help her escape from Aporon as well. Also because Teiko and Teikō are a pair, and we couldn't just take one. "I dunno. Where's Reika?"
"She...she said she would...with her crutch...take too long. She felt really bad." That may have been the case, but Thatcher seemed to be feeling worse about it. "And she has a headache...and, you know-"
"All right, where are you shithead?!"
I instinctively ducked into the doorway. Thatcher froze up, and I didn't need to peek out to know that a more incensed than ever before Edgar was there. I used my friend's going slack as a sign to emerge. He must've ran the other direction.
"He...he looks...real mad, Fritz."
Today's been moving at breakneck pace. It's fluid though, and I'm riding the waves. Yeah! "He'll be even madder when he can't find me anywhere here! Let's go!"
Thatcher got it right away, and we bolted down the stairs. His mood picked right up. It took just over a minute to get out of the gate. There's no stopping us! We let out a cheer as we left the ground, and kept our pace as we charged forth!
~~~~~~~~~~
It's finally time. Thatcher and I are but two drops in this tub filled to the brim with contest enthusiasts. Their raised hands and thunderous plaudits made it akin to being in a raging ocean. And they're just in anticipation at present!
When a figure emerged from the gorilla position at 1PM on the dot, that sent them into overdrive. A man almost as wide as he is tall, in blue work overalls and trucker's hat, with a white shirt beneath made the crowd go berserk. I can't say for certain from these nosebleed seats, but does he shave much? I can't really tell. But...
"Man," I couldn't help but remark to my friend, "I never expected a coordinator to look like that."
"Looks can be deceiving, Fritz!" Thatcher was confident, more than happy to explain to me. And stating a credo I know all too well. "That's Ward Whalz, second-generation pupil of the legendary Juan de Maréaux!" Believe it or not, I recognize the name. I forgot from what, but I know of the guy. "Just like him and Wallace, he's a former Gym Leader of Sootopolis City, a Top Coordinator, and a Water Pokémon master. His personal thing is his line of Pokémon health-care and grooming products!"
The crowd simmered down a little as the host approached the stage. His voice is as elegant as his clothing, demonstrated when he said, "Welcome to the first official Whalz Cup. This contest today is dedicated to my mentor. Get well soon." He took off his hat in respect, displaying his almost-bald head. That was enough to silence most of the crowd. For a brief moment, anyway. "Never been keen on introductions as you all know. So let's get to it and introduce the eight that'll be competing here today."
A man in his late 20s emerged from backstage. "First, from Zurich, Switzerland. Introductions aren't necessary for the one called Gavin Seaforth." The crowd gave a mix of cheers and jeers towards this tall fellow, with a dress that clearly came from society's upper echelon. "Second, we got someone from this region here. Once a thug in a street gang, now the muscle of the hustle. From Hearthome City, Sinnoh. Stuart the Kidd." And muscle he had. In fact, he still donned his colors as a fashion statement, too. But the crowd showered the regional coordinator (who looks to be in his early-30s) with praise all the same.
"Next. From Gattai Memoire, Korea, we got a girl who gave up her life to chase a dream. Her name is Chiyun Kwon." Now that first guy was high class, but this young lady didn't need fanciful clothes to tell you that (they were actually teetering on casual). She just had that air about her; even if Whalz had said nothing about it, one'd still be able to sense her origins. She received a reasonably warm welcome.
"A veteran of the dome. Entertaining people for over 35 years. He's been Top Coordinator three times, but has vowed to win the title of Grand Master before he retires. From the Badlands of Orre, The Poffin Man himself...Randy Hulette!" The loudest pop yet. His technicolor outfit is so outlandish, it'd be stupid to even begin describing it. He's got to be in his 50s or even 60s, but age has treated him well. Unlike certain 66-year-old douchebags.
"From Saffron City, Kanto. The hardest working effort coordinator, and runner-up in last year's Johto Grand Festival. Celeste Faris!" Well, that answers my question from a couple weeks back, but I still don't see the resemblance to her cousin, Irene. Maybe she's too far removed, maybe she takes after the other side of the family. Who knows? The crowd likes her, that's all I can tell you.
"Another guy from this region." As before, the crowd lit up at this. "Love'em or hate'em, he knows how to get a response. Some call him the face of the future. Some call him a threat to our sanctity. He just calls himself a coordinator. A fourth-generation star of appeals from Floaroma, Augustus Gabriel!" Thatcher nearly sprang high out of his seat, startled by the sudden increase in volume. To me, the almost unanimously positive reaction isn't that big a surprise. Floaroma's the next township over. With such a close proximity, of course he'd be hailed as a hometown hero. And he was basking in the electricity in his frilled white and green robe. It was almost visible when he cast it off, revealing a similarly-toned suit that could befit a figure skater or even a superhero.
"One of the country's biggest foreign stars. Grew up on the rough streets of the great dividing line. Some said he'd be a Pokémon Champion some day, but he went this path. One-time Top Coordinator. From Krasnoyarsk, East Russia...Igor Wylde!" People didn't respond too well to this guy, who was not looking at all like I was expecting when I thought of Russians. Maybe they're hating him for who he is, because East Russia follows Japan's way of thought.
"Finally..." The crowd, including Thatcher, prepared themselves for what was to come. "This young woman has been called the finest coordinator to never to get near the top. Been seeking glory for six years now all across the country. A tale of success in the face of adversity. She hails from Petalburg City, Hoenn, and's been voted most enthralling celebrity of Japan two years running. Everyone. Maribel...Capdevila!"
Thatcher sprang high, this time with intent. The exuberance provided was almost equal to that of Augustus Gabriel. I'd say it just falls short, but I couldn't hear a single boo to compensate.
From the halls marched a young woman with an outfit that could make my cousin Estelle jealous. Seemingly simple, yet practically not. Like...where do I begin here? Most of her apparel is a strawberry tint. A vest over a black undershirt with long sleeves, matching shoulder cloth, and what looks like the lower half of a dress or a huge skirt. Her hair flows like a river of scarlet, but it's not the only fluid thing on her person - a dark cloak or cape ripples behind her as well. Black heels, long white socks that extend who knows how far into the aforementioned dress, and a big blue bow tie.
"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Thatcher has to be a serious contender for most delighted person in the arena at the moment, if not the world. It's really nice seeing him happy like this.
The eight participants lined up before Whalz. "All right, so you all entered your six Pokémon. Now let's get right down to talkin' about how this'll work. First round. Eight enter, four leave. You all use one Pokémon apiece. Simple. Second round. Two Pokémon to a side, two coordinators who advance. Last round. The best of three performances. Winner gets the Whalz Ribbon. Worth eight points for any region. The catch here is, you can only use a Pokémon once."
"Neat concept," I whispered to Thatcher, "I've never heard of anything like this before."
"Yeah," he said, "These kinds of contests are really unique!"
"You'd have to think about which Pokémon to use and when."
"Maribel would want to save her best Pokémon for the fights she'd really need them on!"
I smiled to myself. I wasn't expecting him to pick up on that. "And on the other hand, she doesn't want to be too conservative, or she might lose early. Depending on how well she knows her opponents too, she might have to consider all potential possibilities."
Whalz began to speak once more. "The matchups will proceed according to seeding. First up. Number two against number seven. Higher seed gets the benefit of choosing second this round."
The East Russian - and again, I'd like to stress the fact that I would not believe he was from that country if I was not told so - marched over to onto one side of the battlefield. As the other six made their way back, The Kidd strided into position opposite Wylde, sending out his Pokémon first. A tree-like demon, face and back covered by silky white fur. It's got a sharp nose, goblin ears, a solid body of redwood, and fanblade-like leaves for hands.
It was put up against a vaguely humanoid blob with hair just as long and pale, but being frozen being the cause for the tone instead. A dark form shrouding itself in a vermillion and citrine robe. Pouty lips and twisted arms jut out from its body.
"So who do you think's gonna win this one?" I asked Thatcher. He'd know better than me.
"Huh?" he started, "I dunno, I never really...paid attention to either of them. Too much. But..." He seemed to be musing something.
"Ice is normally good on Grass," I pointed out, placing an educated guess on their typings forward.
"But Dark is good on Psychic, isn't it?" Thatcher asked. When I nodded to confirm that is the general case, he told me, "Shiftry is Grass and Dark, but Jynx is Ice and Psychic. A normal battle, I guess it'd be about even...but in a contest, and with these two, I dunno."
Little by little, I think I'm starting to get it. I have to admit, I was a little skeptical going in. But this is pretty enjoyable so far. It's not often I get to spend time with my friends either, with the situation being how it is, so that's a plus as well. With the two Pokémon out, Ward Whalz took a seat at a table on the sidelines, alongside four other individuals.
"Get ready for contests, all! Begin the matchup!"
~~~~~~~~~~
As the tournament played out, Igor Wylde had a good back and forth with Stuart the Kidd, before kicking it up and trouncing him soundly. The Poffin Man with Magmar and Celeste Faris with Solrock went to the judge's panel. They gave the nod to the former, which the crowd wasn't too happy about.
Next came the match involving Thatcher's idol. This one ended pretty uniquely. Seaforth's Manectric pulled out a Wild Charge, but Capdevila's Mawile caught it in its jaw, tossed it, then fired the conducted electricity out for the KO. In Augustus Gabriel vs. Chiyun Kwon, the latter's Venomoth attempted a powder display, which was foiled by a simple blast of water from the former's Wartortle. It wasn't affected directly by the stream, but the good news ended there for the Korean performer. Her Pokémon ultimately fell by virtue of a Rapid Spinning Hydro Pump.
He then found himself being confronted by Capdevila. The two glared at each other from about three feet away. Words were exchanged. No one could hear them, the content of the trash talk being left to the imagination. Gabriel eventually moved and retrieved a microphone.
"Say what you want. You're on my turf now, Maribel. Here in Moldeau Town, Sinnoh!" Though many of these people had to be from across the nation, they still ate right out of his hand. He had a deterministic twinkle in his eye. Or maybe it was a tear. "I'm not going to lose to you. I can't lose to you! Not today!"
The crisp reply was audible. "You've nerve, but nerve only goes so far."
Thatcher nudged me. "This is really personal," he whispered, "I know they've had a heated rivalry, but this is...you know, it's...something new."
"Must be the setting," I suggested. "Or maybe the stakes." Either or both would be a factor for these changes.
That little incident was followed by a thirty-minute break. The second round of the contest began in the precise manner the first round ended. Two hated rivals, staring each other down.
Capdevila grasped two capsules between fingers. She threw them with style and grace, which garnered a cheer before they even emerged.
The first one. It's...a shrub? Not exactly the most intimidating of Pokémon, but that's contests, I guess. Even though a creature as black as the night is cloaked within - with a pointy nose and four crested horns - it's actually more cute than anything else. Its grassy body is top-shaped, and I guess it gets around with either tiny little legs or by hopping. Maybe spinning. I'll find out soon, I suppose.
Her other is a mustached tub of lard, that briefly reminded me of Lapras. Its glossy body is primarily a sky blue, with a sunny patch on its belly and some cloudy white spots. This thing is sort of an eggplant shape. A deformed eggplant, anyway.
"Wow!" exclaimed Thatcher. "I was expecting her to use her Wormadam on Augustus, but I never knew she had a Sealeo!"
"It's something you haven't seen before?"
"Well, not from Maribel!" he replied, "I was expecting her Absol, not that!"
"If that's the case, then that might be why she's using it." I've seen this sort of tactics before, and actually, "It's like when I used Huntail against Aporon. Um, except she probably was raising it on the side just to pull it out as a surprise here. And I was kinda, well."
"I see what you mean. She thought Augustus was th-thinking she would use Absol, but so she...umm..."
"She used something different."
"Yes! Awesome! Let's see what the little sealion can do!"
It may be a sealion, but the first of Augustus Gabriel's Pokémon is a true, vicious feline. It could probably go toe-to-toe with the king of the jungle and hold its own. The creature's fur - which is largely standing on end - is mostly black with a little bit of blue. You can only make out so much from far away, but I can see its long tail is adorned with a golden, cross-shaped object.
And I don't know how to describe that massive bell-like object. Ancient markings line it, but where they come from is another question. On one hand, its upper part are these two curved pieces come together, sort of looking like the outline of a nun's habit, or perhaps a chapel, or I dunno. It just looks Holy, heavenly, or something. Then again, you probably wouldn't associate glowing red eyes with anything except something from Hell. Gravity doesn't seem to be a problem for it, wherever it originated.
"His Luxray is dangerous," Thatcher remarked, "Bronzong isn't a slouch either! But I know Maribel can do this!"
The signal to start came from the ref. Capdevila's Pokémon jumped into action right away on her command. Wormadam hopped up on top of Sealeo's nose and span about, spewing Bullet Seeds as its ally balanced it on top. Not wanting to be left out, Gabriel made his Luxray run beneath its own partner and fire electricity, which conducted out in the upper piece of Bronzong while illuminating itself in the glow.
Sealeo tossed up Wormadam and went into an awkward but functional Defense Curl. The plant landed upside-down while firing String Shot. After a moment, it grew to a larger size and flipped over so it was the one doing the balancing. Luxray permeated a brilliant Flash from its whole body, followed up by Bronzong tilting and using Flash Cannon at a course that had to have been intentionally off for the sake of being more luminous.
"Looks like they're just testing the waters now."
"Yeah," Thatcher agreed, "They're be-being careful."
A standoff. Even I'm on the edge of my seat in anticipation. The Pokémon took initiative. Luxray took up a threatening stance, attempting to stare its foes down. Sealeo couldn't see it, and Wormadam wasn't impressed. The latter fired a couple Bullet Seeds at Bronzong in reply, but they just glanced off. The Pokémon remained still after this.
The coordinators' orders were in-sync with one another. Luxray loosed a powerful Thunderbolt from its fur, just as Wormadam shot Sealeo out at a high speed. The bagworm shrugged off the electrical attack, but Bronzong was knocked to the ground by the fast-moving seal. It proceeded to uncurl and turn to face Luxray just as Luxray turned to face it. But that gave Wormadam a chance to charge and shoot it with an Energy Ball.
"Woohoo! Go, Maribel!!"
When Luxray turned again, it got hit with a Water Gun that sent it between its two foes. Capdevila took up a deterministic stance as she gave a command, and her Pokémon used Seed Bomb and Water Pulse respectively.
Whatever she was up to with that, Bronzong intervened. A simple Psywave repulsed the attacks without issue. Luxray recovered and ran behind the bell. After a bit of focusing, it fired Shock Wave after Shock Wave The two Pokémon were forced to flee to the line before Bronzong - the only accessible space safe from the barrage. With a point from its trainer, the ancient construct began to repeatedly use Gyro Ball. Wormadam and Sealeo were having extreme difficulty consistently dodging this assault in the limited space available.
"This is bad!" Thatcher panicked. "What'll she do? Fritz, what do you think Maribel should do?!"
"I don't know her Pokémon's attacks..." I pointed out. Thatcher frowned and began to chew on his nails. I've actually seen something like this a few times before. One or two Pokémon stopping the foes' lateral movement, and one on-point to attack straight forward. It looks overwhelming, but actually isn't too horrible to deal with.
Capdevila seemed to think of something, though. Sealeo sat up and began to clap. Bronzong perked up at this applause...falling for that Encore.
Thatcher was left scratching his head. "Why'd she do that?"
"It looks like she's locking Gabriel's Bronzong into that move, so it can't react to whatever she has planned next."
I could barely hear his thoughts spoken aloud, "What could she be planning next?" Thatcher focused hard. And then snapped up. "Of course! Her Wormadam's Secret Power!"
The ground around Luxray began to tremble. Before it could respond, the ground burst out from beneath it. The black and blue Pokémon was launched about a meter into the air. With the Shock Waves out of the picture, Capdevila's Pokémon split off from each other, circling around their two foes from different directions.
Gabriel's cursing could be heard from up here, "Sabotage me, will you?! Luxray, backup plan!"
Luxray picked itself up and began launching precision Thunderbolts at the Gyro Balls - being aimed for Wormadam. The electrified rotor blades looked impressive, but were quite easy for the plant to evade. Meanwhile, a quicker Sealeo had already bounded into position. It strained hard...but the effort paid off when the pieces of shattered earth came together as a Rock Tomb! Wormadam started to coat it in String Shot, but Augustus Gabriel was having none of that.
His Luxray charged forward, trembling violently. It crashed into the stone that was being set up, shattering it into hundreds, if not thousands of tiny fragments. Doing this took a lot out of it; the feline-like Pokémon nearly collapsed trying to recover from the powerful move.
"Wow."
"B-but...but why would he Giga Impact the rock?!"
"I don't know," I told him, "But now's Maribel's chance!"
And indeed, she was already giving orders to Wormadam and Sealeo to put something together...but Bronzong never let them capitalize on the opportunity. A deafening tone, half clanging and half scraping, rang out. The two Pokémon were halted by the Metal Sound.
A recovering Luxray bared its...Sealeo emitted a...Wormadam began...Bronzong...wow. The battle is breaking down. It's not on the Pokémon's ends, either - at least, I'm guessing it's not from how the two opponents stand. The pure hatred each has for the other is just...
"This is not what I expected from a top level contest."
"It's....wh-what...why are they...no..."
The crowd already baffled as the Pokémon were brawling, the end came so suddenly that it took like fifteen seconds to register. Luxray's tail became as hard as steel, smashing Sealeo across the arena with a thunderous CRACK that made me wonder if it was electrified as well. Bronzong was ready as the mustached blue Pokémon rolled over to it. A vicious Solarbeam shot out of its inside, wasting the sealion. Wormadam's response was swift and as brutal. Luxray got assaulted by a vicious Leaf Storm, opening up numerous cuts on its body, only being spared when Bronzong made the save. It enveloped Wormadam; the only clue to the Flash Cannons it was doing being the strobing light they gave off. When bell came up, the plant Pokémon was down.
"Wh-what?"
Whalz stood and made the announcement, "Winner of this matchup by defeat, Augustus Gabriel."
Thatcher's eyes went wide. The kind of expression that says one can't believe this is happening. "I...I...what...no. Maribel...she...no! No!"
Hey, what the?
"Thatcher, where are you going?!" He launched himself from his seat and took off. And I was hyped to see whoever won between Wylde and The Poffin Man beat this guy into the ground. After a pause of shock, I scrambled my feet in pursuit.
##########
My efforts to follow my friend were in vain. I lost sight of him right as I left the Contest Hall.
In fact, only way later was I able to meet back up with him. After several hours of attempting to find him on my own, I thought to take a different approach. To go somewhere helpful, rather than aimlessly wandering. But even with the aid of the Traveling Hobos, the sun had all but completely set by the time I saw results. At this point, I'm just thankful they found something.
"Are you sure it's him?" I asked en route, somewhat pointlessly. I don't know what I was thinking with that question. Maybe I underestimate the effect this had on me.
"Indeed it is," Mr. Gruff said. "He is among the distraught individuals I have seen, and that is counting the highest sorrows from Boozer! I believe it would be best if you spoke to him yourself."
I don't know what part of town this is. It's not one I recognize. The darkened state of the city isn't helping affairs - I've mentioned its energy conservation to reduce skyglow before, and though being in-town after nightfall isn't something I'm foreign to, I've never been in the heart of downtown at that time before. It's surreal, really. Eventually, we hung a left into an alleyway, where I spotted my friend.
Thatcher sits on an old zaffer couch. It's seen worse days, in spite of numerous tears along the sides. I can tell that must have been patched up at some point. Similar places to sit or lie down are in this alley as well, including a couple of mattresses and a rocking chair - the only damage to the latter appearing to have come from weather. Oddly enough, they all look just a little better maintained than the pavement.
The only source of lighting here are the lights on the two buildings with back exits, as well as one with inactive vents. At full-on night, they'd likely be barely adequate. In the former two instances, a wheeled dumpster is near the door. The assorted litter in the alley probably came from there given the proximity, cast out by the wind and not by a human.
"Thanks, Mr. Gruff. You too, Biggie."
I had to tilt my head way back to acknowledge the latter individual, who has to be at least seven feet tall. A couple other individuals in the alley joined them, likely watching over Thatcher before we arrived. Biggie's nod was the only response any of the men gave, before leaving us.
"Where did you go? What happened?" I asked once they left. I hoped that two questions at once would not be overwhelming as I walked over.
Thatcher turned away in shame. A bowl of soup sits in his lap; he took a small sip from it before speaking. "I...didn't...I couldn't...didn't want to stay to see the rest. I-I wanted to go back to...to the school. But...I-I got...I didn't know how...where to go." He forced himself, turning his head with his hands, to face me. "Fritz...I'm s-sorry."
"You all right?" I asked as I sat down. That's the only thing on my mind at the moment. His reaction back there or having to search for him didn't really bother me.
"N-not...I don't...I just don't know. It's just that..." Thatcher's voice trailed off. He took an incredibly deep breath, "I mean, I know it's just a c-contest, but..." With that, he let out the excess all at once. My eyes spotted a splash of liquid in his soup. I peered up and held out my hand. Is it raining? No, there's no drops of rain falling onto me. So...is Thatcher crying? What could be bothering him? It can't be just that, can it?
There was no need to chance asking, as he began to elaborate on his own. "I...I've been watching Maribel from the day she started out..." he lamented, trembling in sorrow. "She...her dream...I really like how she was able to follow it. But...if you look at someone...I mean, I don't mean any offense, but..."
When he went silent, I queried, "But?"
He sighed. "Augustus Gabriel was born...well, his dad...grandma and great-grandpa...they were all coordinators. But Maribel...her parents weren't. She wanted to be one, and she did. I...I really like that. She followed her own dream. And she's...i-it's just..."
"What?"
"Maribel...I've never seen her get...seen her win something big. It's...it's not that she lost. It's just..." Thatcher abruptly placed his bowl down with a sigh. He stood, legs managing to not falter beneath him. He admitted quietly, "I was sure she was going to win this time."
My friend walked forth in anguish. I only watched as he moved over to one of the mattresses in the alley and lied back. The words he said...the ones that put his reaction in perspective. They were spoken as a faint, quivering whisper.
"If Maribel can't do it, what chance do I have?"
And so the pieces fall into place. Sort of. Well, there's something I can say about that, so I may as well say it.
"Thatcher, there's lots of people out there who have trouble with that. It's just something that can't really be explained." I paused. Thinking. Maybe. "You can still go for it. And besides...it's just one contest. It's not over for her yet, is it?"
"You're...you're right. You're right!" He perked right up, grinning from ear to ear. "There's always the Grand Festival! Maribel's got to be able to win that!" He had a smile and deterministic look in his eye as his clenched a fist. "No, I know she's going to win!"
His attitude having done a complete 180, Thatcher turned to me with a more relaxed demeanor. "Thanks, Fritz," he said, "I really needed that."
He cheered up...a little too quickly there. I don't want to jump to any conclusons just yet, but he might not want to dwell on this at all. I mean, it could have been a simple overreaction. But my words may very well just be a temporary fix for an ongoing problem. I guess we'll see what happens. But for now...
"Let's head back. I imagine Reika must be worried sick."
A nod. "We should. And hopefully the school will be...will..."
"The gates should still be open. It's dark, but it's not too late." Actually just making an educated guess there. I really don't know the schedule, or whether the fire incident would have affected it. "But if not, we've slept in the outdoors and in-town before." I looked outward. "Come on, let's get the hobos to lead us back."
Well...the day started off nice at least. That has to count for something, right? No...it doesn't really. By the look on Thatcher's face, even he's starting to have the stress get to him. All we can do is cross our fingers, and pray for a better tomorrow. I know I said something like that yesterday...but the upswing has to be looming. It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when. How long is it going to be, though?
