The first impression that Hoshi got of Arlo Aiki, Junior Rocket Executive, was one of youth; the man was smooth-skinned, his cheeks full of baby fat and his eyes clear and bright. His hair was glossy too, with natural-looking red streaks that glistened like sparkling wine.
But that impression was false. Looking closer, it was clear that the Rocket Executive seated primly – in a folding chair behind a similarly-portable desk, the furniture cleaner than the rest of the hideout but not exactly stylish – wasn't any younger than Hoshi was; he was in his mid-twenties, and unlike Bart or the instructors the seeming youth was only skin-deep. No, Arlo Aiki just looked soft; despite wearing heavy, combat-oriented clothing he had none of the scars, marks, or other roughened edges of a professional Pokémon Trainer, and the opposition of those two aspects immediately sent a sharp spike of sour dislike through Hoshi's skull – one that began to curdle his mood even further.
Then he spoke, and the senior grunt got a small surprise. “Rocket Grunt Hoshi Mutsu,” Arlo said, the comprehensibility of his voice immediately contradicting Black’s grousing. Huh, I wouldn't say that accent is thick at all – but then again I'm holding it up next to Danny, so… “And company,” he continued, apparently feeling his own sour jab at the low-ranker bringing an uninvited entourage.
“Two of the grunts under me, sir,” Hoshi replied to the unasked demand burning in Arlo's dark eyes. Hard eyes. Harder than the rest of him, at least – that’s a little reassuring, but I’m still less than impressed. Who is this guy, really? “You wanted to see me?” Probably another tight-ass, that much I can already tell; he left the ‘senior’ off my title on purpose. Sigh… I know we're criminals, but is a touch of regard for the little guy too much to ask?
“Yes…” the executive answered, and Hoshi almost fidgeted as he was scrutinised; the cast on his arm was suddenly heavier than solid lead, and the lack of a uniform made him feel small. Should’ve dug it out of my pack when I woke up. Bad form to be in here in my civvies. “Tanya Remond speaks well of you. James also.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“High praise, especially from the woman. She is…” Hesitation. A massive bitch, yes. “Difficult to please. Rocket is an organisation with a very central goal, Hoshi Mutsu. We are devoted to power, over Pokémon and therefore the peasants who rely on their protection, and you have shown my peers an amount greater than befits your station.”
Is this..? The wording of it was strange, and Arlo didn't seem happy about it in the least, but Hoshi was pretty sure he’d been summoned to receive some sort of promotion. I didn’t expect it to happen – Jessie implied it wouldn’t happen, even. It felt… out of place, somehow. The room’s obviously received a good scrubbing, but it’s still a run-down, rotting mess of an abandoned basement. It’s almost a mockery – trying to hold onto a real chain of command in a place like this.
But that was just – was probably just – an instinctive dislike of the man in front of him mixing with the frustration of his battle being cut short and the more complicated bouquet of emotions left over from the previous night’s short-but-intense misadventure. So Hoshi kept his mouth firmly shut as the chubby, too-clean Rocket chewed on a sentence enough to get it past his teeth. “And so that station will be raised.” He might not have Danny’s atrocious accent, but he also speaks… carefully. He isn’t familiar with the language. Arlo Aiki, Hoshi intuited, had probably learned Kantonian in a classroom. “As a Rocket Administrator, I am granting you the title of Enforcer. You will from now on have leave to order, and punish, any misbehaving grunt or agent – do not abuse this privilege."
“I won’t, sir.” Enforcer… I was aiming for Junior Executive, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. The prior thought returned; here, in the ruined hideout, the rank didn’t seem important in the slightest. And Casca – the one who’d advised him to avoid going down the Rocket Enforcer path in the first place – seemed to silently agree; she stayed quiet, only giving Hoshi a reassuring touch behind his back.
Ryan, however, had no such compunctions. “Sir,” he began with a salute. “We have heard very troubling things about the current state of the coming assault on the Nationals – I apologize for speaking out of turn, but a small speech to reassure the other grunts might-”
Arlo’s scowl was vivid enough to halt the blond mid-sentence. Oh, wow. That’s almost as intense as Tanya’s resting face. And it was real, too; Hoshi could see it, almost taste it, the thick, cloying disdain that seeped from the junior executive’s pores. Black might’ve oversold the accent, but he was spot-on about this guy’s temperament – superiority complex that reaches the fucking ceiling, Arcus. “I did not give you leave to speak,” Arlo said, immediately confirming the empathy’s diagnosis with direct action. “Grunt. You are Ryan Sampo, yes? Archer’s lickspittle.”
Ryan held his emotions more gracefully, though they were no less intense – and startlingly similar. “I am Rocket Boss Archer’s chosen successor, ye-”
“I did not give you leave to speak. You provincial types, so bone-headed… does the concept of a rhetorical question not exist in your backwater?” Each word Arlo spoke caused Ryan’s face to stretch in greater incredulity – and though he wasn’t the target of the tongue-lashing, Hoshi struggled not to give the same reaction. “Archer Apollo is finished. As I said only moments ago, Rocket is about power – and he has lost his. He is no more the leader of our organisation than the absent Giovanni. You are no-one, you have no backing, no resources, no allies. You are only a Rocket Grunt. You will remain silent as your betters speak.”
Don’t punch him. Don’t fucking punch him. Hoshi wasn’t sure if the thought was for himself, or his subordinate. He might not have a machamp – he hopefully doesn’t have a fucking machamp – but working with Tanya’s shown me that executives are still on a different level. Don’t punch him.
Ryan didn’t punch him. He only stood, silent, his face a portrait of rage as Arlo’s grimace morphed into a look of satisfaction.
Hoshi didn’t punch him either, though if he’d had access to his right arm the motion might’ve been automatic. He too was silent and very, very still as the fatass soft fucking fuck turned his way. I knew it. I just don’t get along with the higher-ups. What does it say that fucking Tanya is in the upper half in terms of pleasant interactions?
“You see? You must be firm with the little people, or they’ll get ideas above their station.” You’re not even Kantonian – not really. You don’t get to talk to him like that. “But enough of that. I will have the appropriate uniform brought to you, Hoshi Mutsu. That is all; you may leave.”
The shattered – reshattered – bones of his right hand told Hoshi to say yes sir. Casca’s fingers laying softly against the curve of his spine told him to play it cool. The fact that his team was still injured asked, then begged, and finally pleaded with him to just let it lie for now. To wait for his anger to turn cold, to let the opportunity for revenge come naturally instead of doing something fucking stupid. Hoshi listened to those many metaphorical voices, and then carefully placed them aside and burnt his entire tank in a single second.
The rush of soiled information was like a punch to the gut, and a vicious headache immediately appeared with a follow-up kick to the teeth – but he didn’t flinch. “Even he doesn’t think you’re smart, you know.”
Arlo blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Dabi’s your only friend in this country – no, he’s your only friend, period. And even he sees you as a hack. Did you think the ability to steal corporate secrets makes you important? Irreplaceable?” Slowly, the tables turned; Arlo’s face edged closer to incredulous as Hoshi turned smug. “Nobody here is impressed by espionage, Junior Executive. We’ve all done it.”
There was more – a lot more; Arlo kept his insecurities right next to his triumphs in matching trophy cases, front-and-centre in the livingroom of his brain – but going further would put him on the defensive. So Hoshi turned and walked out, the screeching “You can’t speak to me that way! Do you know who I am?!” that slammed into his back left to hang unanswered.
Casca followed, and then Ryan, both of them exuding something close to satisfaction. I’m probably going to pay for that later, but that’s life. Sometimes you’ve got to punch someone in the face, and damn the consequences.
Arlo Aiki, Rocket Executive, part-time genius, and owner of a tidy share of Castelia City’s Battle Company, was boiling.
Not boiling over; he was quite lucid, quite lucid indeed. But the inside of his skull was definitely hotter than a simmer. “Hoshi Mutsu…” he whispered under his breath, the naked hatred escaping like steam. “Hoshi Mutsu! We’ll see who has the last laugh-!” To think that his generosity, his magnanimity, his good will had been tossed aside..! The peasants of this country really were ignorant savages. You will regret that. No amount of favour held with the other executives will protect you, not from me, not from Arlo Aiki!
He did not move, not right away; a minute passed as Arlo clenched the flimsy material of his desk. Yes. My desk. In my private office. Something that only I and the professors have now; even Jessie and James have been forced to give up that privilege. Yes, yes, Hoshi Mutsu’s words were only the babbling of an ignorant. A blunt tool… He could not possibly know me. That was a blind guess – cold reading! Cold reading, nothing more… Pain in his fingers made him aware that he was clenching too hard, and for another minute he only stared at the scraped skin as the flesh under it began to show a light bruise. This is ridiculous. I took out as many enemy combatants as the other two combined – and I did it without their bastard attempts at Mega Evolution. Yes, his Shadow Pokémon had more than proven their worth, the process he’d adapted- perfected, rather, from the Battle Company’s secret vaults objectively more stable than Mokusen’s artificial Machampite or Kimigawa’s ridiculous ‘Sync Stones.’
Then he heard that deep voice again – ‘Even he doesn’t think you’re smart, you know.’ – and Arlo Aiki returned to a roiling, violent boil. He stood, careful even in his rage to not knock against either his desk or chair, and for a brief moment entertained the notion of flattening the entire compound with those incredibly powerful Pokémon he’d created. That I created, yes. Me! That insipid creature had no idea what he was talking about.
And it would be child’s play to prove it – while putting him in his place, of course.
BANG BANG BANG
Professor Mokusen awoke with a growl already in his throat, the dark vibration coiled and ready like an arbok waiting patiently in its burrow for a passing rattata to step close. And of course the ever-present headache sprang awake with him, announcing itself almost as bombastically as whoever it was at his door – though unlike the intruder, the pain was easy to ignore.
“Mokusen!” said intruder yelled through the heavy wood, the waxed surface one of a select few that hadn’t been touched by the decades of neglect. “It’s nearly noon! Are you going to sleep the whole day away?!”
Breathing in through his nose, Professor Mokusen took stock of himself. About the same, was the conclusion he reached. Though the pain is perhaps slightly lessened – as I’d predicted, my recovery shouldn’t take more than another week. Though the position he’d fallen asleep in was more worrying; sitting, fully clothed, in his chair. As much as he’d like to blame his late-night… encounter with Mutsu and Hiebelle-slash-Sabrina for that, the culprit that was most at blame was, first among unequals, himself. Pain is no excuse. Slothfulness is no excuse. It has to go perfectly if we’re to succeed, and no-one else can be trusted to do things properly…
Except, maybe, the man bellowing through his office door. “Are you even in there?! This entire operation is falling to pieces, I swear if you don’t answer this second..!”
“Aiki,” Mokusen greeted as he let the older man in. For a moment the junior executive stood, sour at his rant being cut short, but by the time the room’s owner made it back to his seat Arlo was striding in, poise regained. Insofar as he’s ever had any, that is. “Stop yelling, you oaf. Can’t you see I’m indisposed?”
The joke curved the scientist’s lips, and Arlo showed the same thin expression. “I suppose I should make allowances for your weakness, Mokusen. Shall I go speak to Kimigawa instead?” A snort, the sound too slight to have any weight behind it, and the two shared a moment of humor born of their mutual distaste.
“Well, I won’t stop you from trying. But enough joking around; what did you come down for?” It obviously wasn’t just to wake him up; Arlo wasn’t one to blunt himself with needless sympathy. His speech was always straightforward, and the actions backing them up were of the same kind – in a word, he was an ass. In anyone else Mokusen would have found it grating, but the Unovan was a kindred spirit; they understood one another.
The air of good cheer blew away as Arlo growled, his ponytail vibrating with sudden anger. “That wastrel Hoshi Mutsu had the gall to insult me after I so graciously promoted him. I’m going to put him in his place; how are the tweaks to your project coming along?”
Ah, so that’s your angle… The scientist glanced at his desk, and after a moment to mentally sort through the paper equivalent to scattered rubble, reached a conclusion. “Well enough. The second generation of crystals should be more in-line with my initial expectations – merely tiring, rather than debilitating.” I don’t remember doing this… I must’ve been nine-tenths of the way unconscious.
“Good. That is…” For a fraction of a moment Arlo’s expression edged towards concern, though it was gone so quickly it might’ve been a mirage. “To be expected. And your person is… functional?”
“He really did rattle you,” Mokusen scoffed, paging through the raw, unlabeled numbers that described exactly how many seconds he’d been away from running completely dry of deoxyribonucleic essence. “That fragile ego will be the death of you, Aiki. But yes, I am functional.” Unlike Kimigawa. What an idiot, forging such a strong connection without knowing how to unforge it… Unlike the two-part mechanism of the Mega and Key Stones, the deep-sea crystals that ‘Doc’ was so fascinated with used a single piece to facilitate the transfer of energy between a human and Pokémon – and furthermore, said transfer would remain stable over a much greater distance. It was less dependent on the Sync Stone remaining in contact, and theoretically that more intimate connection was capable of even greater heights than Mega Evolution…
But it was also correspondingly less precise. Less controlled.
Mokusen had been able to save his own life by flinging his Key Stone away; Kimigawa and his gengar would be sharing each other’s heads until the two of them were able to disentangle emotionally. And that isn’t even accounting for Sabrina… It is entirely possible that Kimigawa will still be a prancing child when we show the Indigo League our mettle. Though I suppose that isn’t much of a change from business as usual. Ha.
Turning his attention back to his guest, Mokusen cut right to the heart of the matter. “Let’s not dance around it; you want me to sabotage Mutsu’s Key Stone. Is that about right?”
The widened smile that Arlo Aiki replied with was dark and malicious, but didn’t lack for cunning either. “An intriguing possibility, but no. Give him the fixed version… I will simply test him on its use, as a good superior should.”
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That ego of yours really is a glaring weakness, Aiki. But that was fine; so long as he got Mokusen closer to his own goal, the man could have as many foibles as he wanted. Yes, Arlo Aiki had proven his worth and competence a dozen times over – just the data he’d brought over from the west was worth putting up with his quirks, and he was a reasonably skilled battler on top of that. And less overtly idiotic than Kimigawa.
But that was enough praise; any more, and Mokusen might have to blame the sentimentality on his exhaustion. “You think he’s earned one of those? We don’t have many, you know.”
“He has the senior executives’ favour, doesn’t he? I can’t see why, but it’s plain as day; the freak is going to be front-and-centre when we take over. Am I wrong?” The sneer Arlo turned the scientist’s way managed to expose every tooth in his skull, the expression drawing attention away from the delicate structure of his face. “Of course I’m not. That must be why you're hesitating – you aren’t really afraid of them, are you?”
No, Professor Mokusen was not afraid of Jessie Oakley and James Kidd, and he expressed such with a sneer of his own. “Hardly. I suppose if Mutsu can’t handle its power, it’s his own fault.” Not that I expect it to happen; Mutsu is a blunt instrument, but he’s shown startling competence of his own… And I have to admit, watching you take a public beating will be amusing, Aiki. Maybe that will finally get you on-track. “Is that all? I have things to do today, Executive.”
“As if you weren’t sleeping before I woke you!” But despite his words, Aiki turned and departed. “I’ll look forward to seeing the revised design in action, heh.”
The door closed softly, and he was gone. So volatile, like a giant toddler… It is good that he woke me, though. Professor Mokusen stood, locked the door tight, and then returned to his seat. He breathed deeply, feeling the pulse of the headache wear at his thoughts-
And then he was Dabi. The diminutive man buckled within a second under the strain his alter ego had held up for days, nearly falling out of his chair as the pain did its best to wrestle control of his various bodily functions away from the rest of him. For long, agonized minutes the scientist could do nothing but pant and feel the sweat drip from his nose, his world shrunk down into a thin film around his aching body…
But gradually, he began to move. Fingers twitched, then curled; his clenched eyelids relaxed and opened to expose his eyes to the blaring light. And eventually he stood – hunched, yes, moaning in pain, yes, but still standing. With one shaky hand he released Dan, the flash accompanying the graveler’s appearance poking immaterial holes in his cornea. “My papers, please…”
One wouldn’t think the clumsy-looking rock type would make a good secretary, but Dan put everything in order without further orders. And then, with everything organised and directly in front of him, Dabi Mokusen got to work putting the finishing touches on the corrected Mega Stones.
It went fast – much faster than if he’d stayed as the professor, at least; Dabi was much more… flexible, one could say, while he wasn’t wearing the bone-deep mask of a marowak.
“You’re probably gonna regret it pretty soon, stud – but speaking personally, that was damn satisfying.”
Hoshi felt a regret-touched grin settle on his face as he reflected on his girlfriend’s words, their sound much more cheerful than the current surroundings. “You know, I had the exact same thought.” The dirty tunnels began to pass more quickly, their space eaten up as building anxiety lengthened his stride. “Arc, are all the executives like that? Jessie and James are the only ones who don’t seem like complete assholes.”
“Naw, some of them are actually pretty alright. A bunch of the older dudes know how to actually crack a joke – right Blondie?”
Hoshi turned to Ryan as a second passed without reply, finding the man wearing a vacant expression. “Yo, Sampo. Earth to jackass, come in jackass.” He started, eyes remaining unfocused for a moment before meeting the brand new Rocket Enforcer’s gaze.
“Ah, pardon? I was lost in thought.”
“Don’t let it get to you,” Casca assured. “That guy was just putting you down to put you down; he’s never even met you, right? Just forget about him.”
Ryan let out a scoff, the sound failing to echo even slightly against the soft wood-clad walls. “Did you think I was shaken by that oaf? Hardly; I’ve never even heard of him. Just a junior executive with a fattened head – I have met many over the years, and this latest specimen was no more impressive than any other.” Hah, I guess you’d recognise a fat head when you see one. “But speaking honestly…”
Another pause, though this one was likely purposeful; Hoshi and Casca shared a look as Ryan set his words in order, and as the main room approached he finally spoke. “While crudely put, Mister Aiki did not speak untruthfully. Archer is… indisposed. I have never been in this situation, completely untethered from… anything.” His teeth flashed in the incandescent light. “My first thought when he called me a provincial was, and I hope you won’t laugh, ‘Let’s see how provincial Viridian is when this gets back to Mister Apollo!’ When he kept going, well, I almost thought he must be reading my mind.”
Then he chuckled. Ha, ha, Hoshi thought alongside his subordinate’s expression, that’s not funny at all, except in maybe the ironic sense. “Like Casca said, you shouldn’t worry about it. You might not be the Rocket Boss’s favourite right now, but you’ve still got a dragon in your pocket.”
“Ah yes,” the blond replied, still smiling. “What an impressive feat – my Jormungandr is so powerful, he could very nearly defeat the raticate my superior received on the same day.”
His words were slathered in a coating of amused sarcasm, and for a long second Hoshi wished he’d kept just a little fuel in his tank; without power the psychic impressions he’d grown used to were hazy, no better than the cloudy synesthesia he’d been blessed-slash-cursed with for his entire life. I wanna know how deep that amusment goes – if I actually fucked him up winning like I did. The sweetness of those two victories had suddenly soured, and Hoshi wouldn’t be able to recapture their true flavour until he’d verified that Ryan wasn’t nursing some kind of complex. “Yeah, an enforcer’s raticate. And in less than half a year, too.”
“Pretty impressive time,” Casca reinforced, drawing a scoff from the younger man.
“I don’t need cajoling, Mutsu. I was serious; Aiki’s words didn’t shake me in the least. Now come, we have a battle to finish.”
He pulled ahead, and Hoshi watched him go with mixed emotions. Come on, came the self-admonishment. You know Ryan. He lives for this trainer shit – rivalries and pushing himself and all that. He isn’t actually hiding anything – you’re insecure because you started leaning hard on your special-boy psychic upgrade without realising.
Yeah… yeah, I don’t need it to judge Ryan’s mood, I’ve known him for months. Once again Casca’s soft touch reassured, and he sent a smile her way.
They made their way back to the dorms, and Hoshi bummed a few Potions for his two starters before he and his subordinate were once again facing off.
The crowd’s smaller, Hoshi couldn’t help but notice. “Okay, so seeing as we’re on-track to get interrupted again by my new uniform showing up, I have a suggestion that might speed this up a bit.” Hah, I guess that’s to be expected. There were a few other battles occurring around the walls of the cavernous room, drawing attention away – and some of them even contained people he knew. Sierra was taking on two magnemite with a foreign Pokémon – a flightless bird, not entirely dissimilar to a single-headed doduo – while Bart and Black were facing off in a three-on-three brawl. He noted that Kenny wasn’t immediately visible, though. Wonder where he’s off to…
“Let me see if I can pre-empt you; you want to turn this into a double battle?” Ryan guessed as he followed his superior’s eyes, and Hoshi smirked.
“Exactly.” A full four-on-four would also work, but this place is too stuffed for that to be anywhere near safe. They’d be blasting people in no time, no matter how carefully they directed things – it was happening across the room, and those two were, speaking honestly in the safety of his head, still a lot more familiar with their Pokémon. Especially massed battles like that; putting aside the forest, most of my experience is still one-on-one.
But two at a time seemed doable, both for his current brain capacity and the venue. “You in?”
“As if you have to ask!”
Soon enough they’d claimed another empty spot, and with his eyes flashing Ryan pulled two balls from his belt. “I find myself disliking the frantic nature of simply releasing after a count – let us do things the civilised way, and show our intent up-front.” Without any pause to allow dissension he threw, calling the two monsters to heel as they appeared – a silvery-blue biped, avian but with smooth scales rather than feathers, and a similarly-humanoid brown chitinous fox. His golduck and kadabra. I suppose he didn’t want to double up on an electric weakness.
Hoshi snorted at the blond’s attempt to capture the momentum, but decided not to gainsay him – after all, the crowd was roaring at the powerful Pokémon on display, and he’d already pissed them off once. No need to start a riot, hah. And he’s given me the opportunity to counter-pick, so… “Alright, I’ll play along. Rivet, Venus, we’re doing things civilised today! Heel and wait for commands!”
With two tosses – which were decidedly less elegant coming from his left arm than Ryan’s right – and his magneton and primeape hit the field. Venus immediately let loose a whoop, her nimble body bobbing with barely-restrained energy while Rivet floated halfway between the floor and ceiling, silent. An exchange from the small crowd they’d recaptured – “Wow, look at those scars.” “Yeah, right between the eyes. What do you think..?” “No idea, I’ve never seen a trained Pokémon with damage that bad – it must’ve gotten basically split in half.” – found Hoshi’s ears and bid his jaw to set, but a breath expelled the bitter blue-black sting of shame. Just watch, you judgmental pricks. She might not be pretty, but Venus’ll show you what a fucking fighter she is.
“I’ll do the count this time. You ready, Sampo?”
“Again, why bother asking such an obvious question? On your own time, Mutsu!”
Hah. Yeah, he’s fine; just as annoying as usual. “Begin at one! Three! Two-!
“One! Venus, Swagger on the kadabra! Rivet, Thunder Wave!”
“Kawatora, water combo into Psychic! Baba, stay mobile!
This is going to be a lot harder than Guts and Crow had it, commented an idle thought as the water-adapted bird let out what was obviously a Screech before it was cut off by the paralysing effects of Thunder Wave – and then it disappeared, shoulder-barging Venus with only a spray of water trailing its wake to mark the fact that it hadn’t teleported. Ryan got stronger Pokémon out of the system, and excepting Champion they’ve all got less room for improvement overall, both his and mine; the differences between our past weeks’ intensities won’t matter as much. But despite the pessimist in him cringing in anticipation for the tables to turn, Hoshi exulted in the adrenaline bubbling in his veins.
A real fight – this is just what I need to wash away the bad taste of Arlo Aiki. “Don’t let its speed overwhelm you! Karate Chop!”
The battle unfolded in frantic fashion; despite Rivet distributing paralysing electricity to both opponents neither was overly bothered, their moves compensating for their compromised muscles. The golduck propelled itself with Aqua Jets from its palms, while the kadabra’s use of Teleport – which was almost faster than instant, the species’ natural talent with the move combining with obvious practice – let it dodge without relying on twitchy muscles. They both hammered away on Venus, flinging her about with Psychic fields while the ape did her best to retaliate and Rivet sent in calculated blasts of electricity and explosive metal. Damn in, lots of misses – I should’ve trained Lock-On instead of relying on Magnet Bomb’s homing effect, it’s way too slow!
And then finally the confusion and paralysis showed their worth, and the kadabra – Baba, apparently – dropped its spoon. Hoshi’s primeape closed the distance in an instant, finally getting the chance to show off her new move.
Which was, fittingly for the opponent, Punishment.
The dark-wreathed descending chop was normally most useful as a counter to buffing moves, but in the here-and-now its typing was enough; Ryan grit his teeth as Baba reeled. “Recover!” he yelled, but before the kadabra could heal itself the built-up train of drifting Magnet Bombs finally completed their curving, teleportation-addled path to blanket the enemy in a brilliant series of explosions. The ‘mon reeled as the steel projectiles burst against its carapace – and it fell. “Blast it-! Tora, even the score!”
Another Psychic, and Venus was dashed against the ground. She followed the kadabra into unconsciousness, and with similar grimaces the two trainers returned their downed Pokémon as those still on the field traded attacks.
Good work, girl. Ryan’s team is stacked with flying and psychic types, so this was always gonna be an uphill fight for you – but you got yours. First blood for us.
Without pausing he and Ryan both threw, new monsters appearing on the field already in motion. “Junior,” Hoshi cried, “Charge up!”
“Slifer, your enemy is- Oh for fuck’s sake, another electric type?!”
“What can I say, it’s a family inheritance!”
Charizard really was a majestic Pokémon. While it wasn’t a true dragon like his Jormungandr, Slifer looked the part; her orange skin was almost luminescent as she took to the air, and her long neck craned with unerring grace as she aimed. The skin of her wings stretched taut with the force of each downstroke – and then the ‘almost’ in ‘almost luminescent’ dissolved, the flesh of the great salamander’s throat throwing off a light all its own as liquid yellow flame was exhaled.
Ryan’s jaw continued to strain despite the beauty, anticipating the enemy to counter with their own radiance – namely, a Light Screen from one or even both electric types.
K-THUMP-!
But the brilliance Mutsu’s Rivet showed wasn’t any defence, but only a bolt of lightning. It struck Slifer in the body, marring her tan underside with scribbled black lines but doing nothing to stop the fire from bathing the steel type in turn. Yellow turned to red as the purely energy-fed flames were cut with mundane oxygen, and someone in the audience screamed – but Ryan wasn’t worried; Kichi had enough water types all on her own to handle any fires, and the floor of the room was concrete anyhow. Paint-stained concrete, I’ll allow, but the structure can handle a little fire. “Magnificent!” he cried. “Tora, a-”
His order was interrupted as Mutsu released his sixth Pokémon, and that came with the realisation that the man was carrying seven. He said six-on-six, earlier, didn’t he..?
No, he said team-on-team, the cunning bastard. Or maybe he hadn’t even thought about the difference in the number of their Pokémon; Hoshi Mutsu could be as scatterbrained in some moments as he was meticulous in others. But whether he’d worded his challenge ambiguously on purpose or by accident, that didn’t change the fact that the field was now being swiftly engulphed in thick streams of sand.
“The new Pokémon! Target the gible!”
“Champion, stay mobile! Sand Attack and Bulldoze! Junior, stay at range!”
Damnation, Ryan cursed as his charizard was paralysed only moments into her introduction. The field- I can’t see! The cloud had swallowed up all four combatants, only Slifer just barely visible from the beating of her wings – and it was obviously intentional, given that the enemy had now switched to indirect moves. A Shock Wave illuminated the dust storm as it thundered out, crashing against both the electabuzz’s vulnerable opponents, but by the time Slifer calculated the electricity’s emergence point and retaliated it had moved. The curse repeated itself in his head, then again, growing in vehemence each time. At this rate I’ll be whittled down. Kawatora is on her last legs, and Slifer isn’t far off – if he didn’t have that bear in reserve then maybe Khepri could close it out, but even that is chancy. “Slifer, slow them down – and both of you, get out of that sandstorm!”
It’s working, came the half-hopeful voice of Hoshi’s optimism. It’s working so far, pessimism countered, and as the pseudo-dragon and -psychic types flung themselves back into clear air it seemed that the latter outlook had seen further ahead.
“Keep it up! One or two more and they’ll go down!”
“I think not! Air Slash the centre; engage when visibility allows!”
If he’d tried to give such a complex order Hoshi’s current pair would’ve hesitated, if they understood at all – but the duo of relative strangers moved smoothly; another Screech from the golduck as the charizard beat its wings furiously, razor air currents cutting the Sandstorm like it was half-set concrete. For a moment Champion was visible as a tiny darting shape – and a moment was all that was needed. Before he could order – before he could think of an order, even – the golduck had dashed in with Aqua Jet and followed it up with a twirling Aqua Tail, the combination exquisite to behold. The Sandstorm died as Champion collapsed-
And then Jackson Jr. let loose his latest Charge-empowered Shock Wave, and the stupidly durable duck-kappa finally went down. I can’t fucking believe it lasted so long against two electric types, plus what Venus dished out on top. That’s a fucking monster. Hoshi let the mix of frustration and admiration swirl in his chest as he raised Champion’s Indigo Ball, Ryan doing the same with a much more sour expression. “Good work kid! You’re really starting to catch up to-”
For a moment he thought the sound was Ryan’s return laser, but as the golduck disappeared and the warbling crystal tone continued to build Hoshi blinked and realised the truth. Oh, fuck yes. This really was the best idea..!
Champion rose, glowing and growing, and as their opponent’s face turned to a sort of disgusted incredulity Hoshi cackled. “Fucking yes! Finally!” He’s been on the edge for days – I guess he needed a good meal and a rest first.
“Really?” Ryan asked, exasperated, as the gabite found his newly-lengthened legs. “A promotion and your dragon’s evolved before mine? Today really is your day.”
The battle didn’t last long after that; Ryan’s scyther – which was named, in a predictably pretentious fashion, Khepri – was strong and heinously fast, but with Champion resurgent and Jackson Jr.’s Shock Wave letting him attack through the renewed Sandstorm, neither it nor the charizard could pull things back.
Hoshi would need to find a different battle for Moony; she’d never even hit the field.
