A Boy and His Scolipede
Mason's feet were hitting the ground hard as he chased after the two Team Plasma grunts. They were a good few feet in front of him, their powder blue and crème outfits standing out against the vibrant green vegetation of Pinwheel Forest. His chest and head ached, and he was sweating profusely from the humidity. He figured he smelled as good as a stunky ought to, and he wanted to smile, but nothing about this situation was funny.
Mason was in Pinwheel Forest on this sunny summer day, training his scolipede, Warner. He had caught Warner in the forest when Warner was still a tiny venipede. Over the months his best friend had grown stronger and stronger, finally evolving into the behemoth of an insect that is scolipede. Mason and Warner enjoyed walking from their home in Castelia City to the serene Pinwheel Forest to train.
But this day, while they were facing off against a tough sewaddle, Mason was hit on the head from behind by the female Team Plasma grunt. He fell to the floor and Warner's pokeball snapped off his belt and rolled away. Before Mason could stand up and properly assess the situation, the two grunts had Warner back in his pokeball and had started to escape.
Mason started pursuing them. At first he feared they had too much of a head start, but then he noticed the male grunt was limping; Warner had cut him on the calf in the struggle. Mason probably would have caught up to them if he wasn't so disoriented from being hit on the head. The male grunt took this opportunity to bandage up his bleeding calf while still running; it slowed him significantly, but Mason was having trouble just seeing straight at that point. Now they were running at full speed, and Mason cursed himself for not being able to catch up to them when he had the chance.
As they reached the southeast end of the forest, the back of Mason's head throbbed like a heartbeat. Everything was getting blurry and he rubbed at his eyes. He was slowing down; they were getting away. "No!" he weakly cried out as he slumped against a tree. He felt the back of his head, and it was a bit wet. I can't let them take him! he thought as he took out a bottle of Fresh Water and splashed the water onto his face. He shook the weariness and pain away and forced himself to continue on.
Mason walked into Nacrene City, calming himself. He ran into a nice nurse outside the entrance to Pinwheel Forest and she gave him a painkiller and put a bandage on the back of his head to keep the wound clean until he could properly get it looked at. He knew the grunts wouldn't be in plain sight, so there was no point for him to waste the last of his energy running around the city. Directly to his left was Café Warehouse, a stylish café in a rural area. On the side patio was a man playing an accordion. Mason brushed his shaggy blond hair from his face and approached the man. "Er, did two oddly-dressed people run by this building?" he asked.
"No," the man answered, "they may have gone inside the café. It's Wednesday, after all."
"Uh, thanks," Mason breathed. He wasn't sure what the fact that it was Wednesday had to do with anything, so he just shrugged. He went into Café Warehouse and was hit in the face with the aroma with the aromas of coffee, stale cigarettes, and irony. A waitress in yellow was standing next to the door. She greeted him and handed him a free Fresh Water. He had figured this was the special the man had mentioned. Though he went to Pinwheel Forest often, he never ventured into Nacrene City; it was full of hipsters who thought everything ironic was "cool" and that one can turn a warehouse into anything. They weren't the kind of people Mason found fascinating.
Mason peered down at the lower level, and saw the two grunts, calmly drinking their Fresh Waters. Mason didn't have another pokemon on him, but he did have something to defend himself with. He walked over to them, ready for a fight. The grunts looked up at him with dark eyes. They both reached down to their pokeballs, and Mason pulled out a four-inch long pocket knife that he always kept sharp enough to cut berries off trees with. "You might be afraid to die, but I'm not afraid to go to jail," Mason declared, holding the knife near the girl's neck.
They both stared at him in fear as someone nearby yelled, "Oh Arceus, he has a knife!" There were gasps. The male Team Plasma grunt shakily put Warner's pokeball on the table. Mason snatched it up, and the grunts hurried out, cursing and tripping over themselves.
Mason pocketed his knife and released Warner. The café shook from the scolipede's weight of almost 450 pounds. Warner gave a cry of delight at seeing his trainer and nuzzled against the teenager's chest. Mason hugged his pokemon close, happy that the ordeal was at a close.
The waitress walked over to them, frowning. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she stated firmly.
"Whoa, that's so ironic," a patron at the next table muttered to his friend.
Mason shook his head and went home.
