I do not own Pokemon
I do own Blanche, Slyza, Metas, Taiko, Lane, (Nameless), Inferno, Sanoki, and other random OCs
Prompt: Eeveelutions (Espeon, Jolteon, Umbreon, Vaporeon, Glaceon)
XxXxXxX
Blanche
Blanche watches his successor and is pleased. The younger Espeon is powerful, but lacks the polished ease that comes with experience and time. He thinks that it will be nice to retire, to have time to relax and just sit in the sun.
However, young Slyza isn't ready to become the main Psychic-type of their trainer's party, so he still has some work to do.
Metas and Taiko
Taiko is nervous, which is understandable. Her current pregnancy is beginning to show, rounding out her stomach and padding out her flesh.
Metas grooms his mate, soothing her worries away with each swipe of his tongue. Their trainer has returned and taken away their most recent litter for selection. He shares her worries, what will be fated for their children?
His pride as the former Dark-type of their Trainer's team demands that his children be chosen for training. He privately imagines his daughters being graceful Vaporeons like their mother and his sons as strong willed Umbreons like him.
Dreams aside, Metas understands that most of their children will be forced to evolve then sold as pets to the rich and wealthy. His trainer needs money in order to survive, and the wealthy will pay handsomely for Eeveelutions.
Lane
"Seems like you have some potential, I guess I'll keep you. I wonder what I should have you evolve into...maybe a Glaceon. Been needing an Ice-type for my team."
My trainer told me those words when I has barely three months old, after having me demonstrate what attacks I knew.
"Lane, your name will be Lane."
My mother was quite happy when my sister and I returned, but less so when my sister was taken away. I didn't understand at the time, but I would never see her again. I still don't know where she is, but I don't regret being the one chosen for training.
I'm sure she is going her best to up hold our family name, just like I am.
(Nameless)
She sits on her mistress's lap, a deep purple bow complimenting her light purple fur makes me feel like stuffed animal, and watches the world outside. She has a name, but it is meaningless, just a title that her mistress uses to call her.
Sometimes, when she closes her eyes, she sees a world that is leagues away from her own. She sees the human who sold her, commanding her to perform attacks that she does not know. She sees Pokemon that she has never seen before what the hell is a Tepig, along with others that she has only seen at a distance so that is what a Pelipper looks like up close, uuuuuuuugly.
These visions comfort her, because they let her observe what her brother does everyday, though he must be far away since her Psychic powers can barely bridge the distance not that I'm that strong anyway.
She's both proud and jealous of him, as he's doing more to uphold their family name than she is.
Sanoki
=Pokemon Speak=
=My name is Sanoki! Son of the great warrior Blanche!= The Jolteon howls, fur bristling with sparks. =State your name and linage!=
His opponent does not reply, too beaten down and trained to even consider answering. Sanoki is displeased by the lack of response, violet eyes glittering as electricity begins to drip from his fangs. His trainer stands quietly, examining the other trainer and his white vulpine Pokemon.
"Well," His trainer sighs, looking slightly tired, "Shall we begin?" The young man that faces them nods impatiently, arrogance and youth coloring his actions.
"Ninetales! Use Flamethrower!" The kitsune complies, flames as dull and greasy as its eyes streaking toward its foe, only to miss as the yellow fox evades with a burst of speed. Despite himself, Sanoki is impressed by the amount of training that the Ninetales has undergone, its kept up a steady stream of fire even as he runs around it in circles. But the kitsune is reaching its limit, soon it will have to breathe, then he'll strike.
"Sanoki. Thunder Wave. Thunder Fang." His trainer's voice is flat, though he can detect the undercurrent of worry that snakes through it. This battle seems to be taking too much out of the Ninetales. He gives a sharp yip of understanding and darts forward as the Ninetales stops to inhale, a nimbus of electricity crackling around him as he smashes into the other Pokemon.
"What! But Jolteons can't learn Volt Tackle!" The male teen cries out in disbelief and outrage.
=Who says it's Volt Tackle brat?= He snarks, fur puffed up from the residual charge.
His Ninetales says nothing, body twitching from the paralyzing current running through its veins, fur standing on end as sparks and static glimmer faintly.
Whatever response his trainer would have made is cut off when the Ninetales shrieks, body convulsing as Sanoki's fangs pump volt after volt of electricity into it prone form. He's holding back a little, unwilling to actually hurt the other fox, long experience telling him when to stop so the Ninetales will only be sore when it wakes up. The sounds are horrible though, the white fox screaming as if its very bones are on fire, withering and twisting in agony as its nerves are over stimulated by the electrical charge.
"Sanoki, enough." He lets go, carefully drawing away as much charge from the slightly smoking Ninetales as he can. Looking at his work is a bit painful, even for one with as much battle experience as he; all the Ninetales is now is burnt fur, raw vocal cords, and knotted muscles that will take days to heal. It could have been worse, but not by much really.
"Y-you might have beaten Ninetales, but you can't beat the rest of my team!" Recalling the defeated fox the man-, no boy, is trying so pathetically hard to seem confident that Sanoki could laugh. It doesn't matter what other Pokemon is thrown at him, he has seen the extent of the boy's skill and it's no where near enough to even trouble him. His trainer has noticed this as well, if the bored expression he sees is any indication.
"Eh, Sanoki, you can handle this yourself right?"
=Of course!= He barks, already prepared for the next match. =I will not fail you.=
"Yah, yah. Just have fun." His trainer stretches, calmly waiting for the challenger to produce his next Pokemon.
They don't have to wait long, it's a Sneasal, all black fur and fluid grace. It's also weak, barely able to dodge his first kick and taking the second one to the face.
A spark ignites in his heart.
When he finishes pounding the cat-weasel-thing into the ground, the spark has turned itself into a jagged ball of lightening that howls in rage. How dare the insolent brat take him so lightly. How dare he.
He makes a decision, one that he's made before and acts upon it.
It's over in a split second, blood splurting from the boy's neck as Sanoki lands behind him.
"Again? At least there isn't anybody else around." His trainer walks over to the body and loots it for items and pokeballs. "I guess I should take the Pokemon, ne? Teach them to be good fighters."
=Of course. If you didn't I would wonder who you where.= Sanoki yips back, knowing full well that his trainer can only partially understand him. =They deserve the same chance that you gave me.=
Once the pokeballs are gathered up and all useful items taken [Pokedex included, in order to rightfully gain the boy's Pokemon the kid's serial number is needed], his trainer steps back and releases a Blaziken. She acknowledges Sanoki's presense with a curt nod, before examining the oozing corpse before them.
=Sloppy work, I expect better from you.= The bird of prey's golden eyes hold a playful glint that offsets her rebuke. =I suppose I should dispose of this.= All it takes is one Incinerate attack, and the body is nothing more than a pile of ash, drifting away in the wind.
"Good work, now let's go find a PokeCenter, I don't think I can heal the Ninetales myself." Humming slightly, their trainer walks off, looking for the nearest town. Inferno and Sanoki lope after the cheerful figure, curious as to what new members have been added to their family.