Beyblade: The Ultimate Generation
By LadyJanet009
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"Vanessa Eleriarya Ketchum-- you do those dishes NOW!". Lying upon a long,
rickety attic-beam in Halliwell Manor Attic, the seventeen-year-old in question
awoke with a start, her piercing, emerald-green eyes squinting down through the
rafters, seeking out the source of her dramatic disturbance. With a dramatic sigh,
Vess hooked her scrabbling fingers around the beam, vaulting effortlessly to the
attic floor. Shaking her waist-length, caramel braid out of her eyes, Vess grinned
in satisfaction. Her pricey gymnastics lessons had paid off, producing a startling
athlete in the five foot seven inches, sarcastm-spouting elder Ketchum child.
Shaking her head in exasperation, Vess spoke up, expertly projecting her loud
voice down across the length of the room- and down the elmwood hallway.
"Maaa, it's Ash's turn. He lost against me in an all-out-war, take-no-prisoners
Beyblading bet", she announced haughtily, her haughty tone laced with venom.
Down the hall, Leilara Ketchum sighed, half-concealling her dawning grin with
a casual hand as she did so. "Well, go fetch Ashario from Goten's, then, love",
she called warily. Her expression hardened. "And don't orb, whatever you do".
Vess rolled her emerald eyes in grim acceptance. "If I have to", she returned
darkly. A smile suddenly washed over her grim, battle-hardened face. "I sup-
pose I could just dump little bro in a dumpster somewhere. He's stink for ages-
and it would turn ye old Waterflower Senora off him", she thought to herself.
Vess bounded across her messy attic abode, traversed the dusty, floorboard
hallway and swerved casually around her dust-gathering mother, a desolation
smile curving the edges of her lips now, as adrenaline coursed through her body.
Leila Ketchum frowned after her disappearing daughter, her expression worried.
"Wish my students were that enthusiastic in the morning", she muttered, half to
herself. She only hoped that Vess wouldn't strangle her younger brother. Yes,
there was an age difference of a year. But even that proved hazardous, she knew.
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As soon as she deemed herself far enough from the Manor to remain even
minutely undetectected, Vess closed her eyes, concentration firmly fixed
on her desired location.The Capsule Corporation Headquarters, Esquire.
Utilising her half-Whitelighter, half Charmed One teleportation abliity, the
Italian-Australian Beyblading World Champ solidified outside the verrrrry
imposing Capsule Corp Headquarters building, in just under a mere seven
seconds. Hurriedly digging a metallic-purple comb out of her back jeans
pocket, Vess began attacking her unruly, wavy caramel hair, smoothing
down the defiant strands. That done, she straightened, stowing the comb.
Vess began walking forwards, taking note of her surroundings as she
pushed open the Capsule Corp entrance door. Her awe was only int-
ensified as she entered the Reception Office, her eyes drinking in every
mahogany furnishing, every minute detail. The blast-proof, reinforced
glass and steel, leading up to a spacious, overhead, gleaming balconey.
Vess approached the front desk, her stride even and her game-face on.
Inwardly, she was freaking out. She was far too out of her depth here.
"Hi", Vess began. "I'm here to see-". But her opening sentence was
overrode by a gruff, eagerly-shouted, "VESS! You made it, woman".
"Heya, Stepbro Trunks", Vess answered, her even tone abrupt. Cold.
She hardly needed the Capsule Corp Receptionist's jolt of surprise,
nor the forced, cheery, "Mister Briefs! How nice to see you, Sir".
Trunks Thalion Briefs was tall, golden-tanned and mauve-haired,
quite taciturn, grim and mysterious for his tender seventeen years.
As usual, he wore his short, indigo-blue jacket, rebelliously left
open to reveal an ebony muscle shirt, barely containing his solid,
muscular arms. Rounding out the outfit were silken, loose onyx
cargo pants, orange Army boots and a lethal-looking short-sword.
Trunks grinned unexpectedly, his sapphire-blue eyes glimmering
with concealled amusement. Awkwardly, he held out a golden-
tanned hand. "Spare me the formality, Vessa. Our parents are
due to be married. Your dad ran off and... what did I say?", he
enquired in surprise, as Vess barged past him, fighting back tears.
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Furiously blinking back an onslaught of tears, Vess broke into an
unladylike sprint, bolting down a deserted-looking, charcoal-blue
corridor. Emerging momentarily before a lifelike, marble statue of
Sir Vegeta Briefs, Capsule Corp President and Trunks' grim father.
Resisting the urge to "orb" the statue's head off, Vess satisfied her
rage with a defiant, muttered, "Your son is truly incorrigible, Sir".
Vess quickly imput the lift-code upon the statue's arm and it slid
smoothly aside, to reveal a cold-looking, one-man Staff elevator.
Tensions running nigh on volcanic fury, Vess entered the elevator.
Vanessa Eleriarya Ketchum was was the eldest daughter of Leilara
and Ethione Ketchum. Upon her eight birthday, Vess had been
taught the novice basics of the noble, spin-top sport of Beyblading.
At the tender age of eleven, Vess had challenged- and against all
odds, beaten- the great Mikhail "Kai" Hiwatari, the Juniour Division
Beyblade Champion- becoming the youngest, first-ever Juniour Div
Bladebreaker for Melbourne, Ausralia. It was, truly, a great honour.
There had, of course, been unwanted dissent from her old Beyblading
team, the famed White Tigers. It was only because she had posessed
the nerve to strike out on her own... and they didn't appreciate that.
From Russia to Korea, they hounded her. Sent her rancid, salt-water-
filled chocolates and generally threatened payback for "discrediting them".
Vess sighed, wrenching her thoughts elsewhere. They were, she knew,
downstairs- training for the upcoming Championship. Awaiting her.
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The elevator opened with a crisp bing, having duly conveyed Vess
to her destination- the famed Capsule Corporation Beystadium.
Steeping smartly from the lift, Vess closed her eyes, began to
visualise the Inner Circle and- BAM!. Something infuriatingly-
solid collided with Vess, ploughing into her unprotected ribs.
Vess felt the unmovable grip of an unshakeable, iron bearhug.
"Hey, Becky", Vess sighed, emerald eyes snapping open.
Before Vess stood a girl of fourteen and three-quarters, with
straight, amber-gold hair and surprise-widened, honey-hazel
eyes. She wore an indigo halter-top, Nike Airs and a tie-dyed,
flowing, dawn-coloured shirt. "Vessa!", Becky Son burbled,
immediately releasing Vess and biting her lip, mortified at her
over-the-top welcome. Vess grimaced in pain, looking very
rueful. "Becca- can't...breathe", she wheezed, smirking now.
Becky scowled. "Rub it in, why don't ya?", she scoffed.
Becky looked her cousin in the eye, equal parts excitement
and sadness radiating from her amber eyes in solemn waves.
"I take it you've heard, then", she said sadly, her tone grim.
Vess' caramel brows met in a puzzled, perplexed frown.
"Heard...what?", she enquired, gently rubbing her ribs now.
Mutely shaking her head, Becky grabbed Vess's left forearm,
none-too-gently dragging her cousin along to the Beystadium.
The source of Becky's discomfort became immediately apparent.
Slumped against the Beydome fence was Ashario "Ash" Ketchum,
cradling his broken left arm close, expression pained. In that same
cradling hand, he held a smoking, battered Beyblade. Vess's younger,
sixteen-year-old brother had spiky, jet-black hair, intense onyx-black
eyes and a stunningly-bright smile. He had also, inconveniently, lost
to his crush, the glacial, self-obsessed Misty Waterflower, Juniour.
As Vess approached him, Ash smiled weakly, his face pale white.
"Hey, Big Sis. Looks like you're stuck on my dish-duty. Makes it
almost worthwhile to be in this particular pain", he greeted, smirking.
Smiling sweetly, Vess accidently-on-purpose squeezed Ash's wound.
"Ow-wow-wow!", Ash yelped, throwing Vess a dirty look in return.
Vess grinned. "I'll upstage the Waterflower", she sneered confidently.
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As Vess started forward in grim determination, Ash's smug look
turned to one of sheer horror. "Oh, no. No, no, no- I don't think
that's a very good idea. Don't enter the- I'm doomed", he wailed,
as Vess entered the sinister, spacious, monolithic Beydome proper.
Pausing briefly, Vess turned. "Don't despair, Ash. You're not here to
think. Frankly, Bro, I believe the notion is quite beyond your ability".
Then she was off, hurriedly striding over to stand upon the Bey-Plinth.
Misty Waterflower looked over in surprise, torquoise eyes narrowing.
Her ruthless expression soon faded, to be replaced with contempt.
"So. The eldest Ketchum frankly wishes to lose to me. Typical", called
the auburn-haired Beyblader, a malevolent sneer fixed upon her face.
Vess scowled, emerald eyes flaring genuine hatred for her archenemy.
"Frankly, I'm amazed that you can talk and sneer at the same time.
But it's you who'll be taken down a notch or nine. Don't cry, little baby".
The childhood enemies locked glares, the thrill of confrontation racing
through their veins. At once, the rivals shouted, "Let it rip!", releasing
their beyblades as one. The charcoal-silver beyblades arced through
the air, clattering onto the Beydome floor with a resounding click.
They immediately began battering each other, circling warily, as
competitive as their clashing owners. It was really quite thrilling.
"Dranzer, obliterate her!", Vess yelled acidicly, thrill-imbued.
"Seaborg, strike her down!", Misty shouted, expression sour.
The auburn-haired, torquoise-eyed Misty Waterflower watched
on, enthralled, as the two heavily-contrasting bit-beasts emerged
from their shiny, cramped prisons. First off, the resplendent, ruby
and gold phoenix spirit, Dranzer, flew at the indigo and gold-flecked
sea-spirit, Seaborg. Already, the duo were tearing and clawing.
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Unbeknownst to the two battling combatants, sixteen year old
Steph Waterflower watched from the sidelines, nervously pun-
ching one cloth-wrapped fist into the other, open palm, now.
Her waist-length, brown-gold hair glimmered in the Dome
darkness, highlighting her sparkling hazel eyes and small smile.
"C'mon, Mista- Rapid Trident Slash!", she yelled, swept up in
the excitement. Outraged at her younger cousin, Vess shouted,
"Inferno Flare!", briskly countering the move, eyes now blazing.
Misty sneered malevolently. "Rapid Trident Slash!", she boomed.
What happened next was a dizzying blur of fluid, neon motion.
Incineratingly-hot fire slammed forcefully into awe-inspiring, here-
one-minute-and-gone-the-next trident scythe-spins. In a seemingly-
impossible maneuvre, Dranzer's inferno-fire slipped through a minute
gap in Seaborg's defenses. With a shriek of pure outrage, the defeated
Seaborg soared out of the Beydome, Dranzer's awesome finisher besting it.
There was a heavy, uncomfortable silence, thick and cloaklike in the
ultra-modern Beystadium. It was broken only by Misty's thudding
footsteps, the muffled gasps of ill-abated tears as the teenager fled.
Vess stayed silent, sensing that this was make-or-break, certainly
not the time to gloat. Even if, she mused, Misty Waterflower had
fled like a flustered, frightened girl who couldn't get her own way.
Tyson Granger, the blonde-haired leader of the Bladebreakers,
spoke. "Guys, looks like we found our final Bladebreaker".
Vess frowned slightly, riveted to the spot by this announcement.
"Did I just hear you invite me to your team, Oh Fearless Leader?",
she enquired, one caramel brow raised in courteous enquiry now.
Kai Hiwatori, the navy-and-charcoal-haired Beyblader enigma,
chose that moment to step out of the Bey-Plinth's shadow, slowly.
"It sure sounded like that to me, Ketchum. Welcome to the best
team in the world, I guess. Just steer clear of me- at all times".
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