Authors Note: Here's chapter two! Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own diddly-squat…
Chapter 2-The battle frontier
"Thank you for entering the Battle Tower, Mr.….ah?" The young bright eyed woman inquired.
" Paul." The purple haired teen simply said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
The attendant gave a small smile.
"Status, please?"
" Roaming pokemon trainer." The attendant began typing his information into the battle roster.
"Age?"
"18."
"How many gym badges do you have?" She asked, looking up from her monitor.
" 8."
The girl sighed. Clearly, this was a man of few words.
"Are you done yet?" Paul questioned boredly.
" I apologize, sir. Have you ever challenged and defeated the Elite Four?"
"I've beaten the Sinnoh Elite Four twice."
"Alright, I'm printing out your battle card now." The woman grinned, as her printer whirred into life, noisily printing out a small card. She handed the card to Paul, who took it without saying anything, and began to walk away from the huge sign-up desk, towards the building exit.
"Your welcome, sir!" She yelled exasperatedly to his retreating form.
And Paul ignored her, as usual.
Ash sipped his at his hot coffee, thanking the waitress warmly. She had delivered his coffee and freshly made poffins for Pikachu, and best of all, when she had noticed him struggling with his schoolwork, she had sat down and helped as best as she could, which turned out to be more than enough.
The café was small, and fairly empty. Everyone was out training their pokemon for the upcoming Battle Tower competition. Ash sighed sadly, fingering the gleaming pokeballs attached to his belt. His pokemon were incredibly powerful, but battling had lost its thrill.
Pikachu noticed his movement, and abandoning her half nibbled poffin, and chirped curiously at him. Ash unclipped a pokeball from his belt, feeling it enlarge in his palm. He lazily tossed it into the air. A familiar beam of red light shot out as the pokeball burst open. His chimchar appeared, squeaking happily at the sight of his trainer. It quickly climbed up to his shoulder, nuzzling its head against Ash's cheek. Ash gave a weak smile, and petted the small fire monkey's head. Its blazing backside was quickly warming the chilly cafe.
Chimchar was the only pokemon other than Pikachu that Ash carried around with him at all times. The others were in training, or had been released, or left with the varying professors of the different regions. Chimchar had simply refused to leave Ash. Every time Ash had decided to leave his pokemon for a new journey, Chimchar had cried and pleaded to remain with its beloved master. Chimchar had taken up a huge fondness for Ash after Paul had abandoned it. It was powerful; in fact, it was stronger than the average fully evolved form of its species, learning incredible moves of its type, such as Blast Burn, Overheat, and Mach Punch. Paul had been right; the adorable little monkey had potential.
It was the only time Paul had ever been right, in Ash's opinion. Paul was a bigger rival to him than Gary or Richie, from the harsh way that he trained his pokemon to his arrogant, selfish attitude. Ash could still remember the insults that Paul had spewed at him almost daily, particularly "loser" and "idiot".
Frankly, Ash couldn't stand the guy.
Pikachu nudged through the pages of Ash's newspaper with her tiny paws, fascinated with the colors. She lost interest eventually, though, and turned her attention to a nearby bottle of ketchup. Ash glanced at the mussed newspaper, noticing an ad for the Battle Tower competition. He picked it up, skimming the advertisement. Chimchar saw the vivid pictures of pokemon trainers and pokemon alike in the midst of heavy battle, and began chattering enthusiastically, glancing at him with wide excited eyes. Ash shook his head sadly.
"Sorry, buddy, but I'm not really up for a competition…."
Chimchar huffed in annoyance. Pikachu looked up from her ketchup filled euphoria, her long ears twitching at the mention of a competition. She, like Chimchar, hadn't been in a nice, challenging battle for weeks, and was itching for a good scrap. She shot a sharp glare at Ash, squeaking her disapproval of his recent loss of motivation. Ash's brows furrowed as Chimchar began to add to Pikachu's lecturing with his own mewling.
"You guys wanna battle that bad?" He asked in mild annoyance. As the incessant chattering of the pokemon increased in spirit and volume, he decided to give in.
" …Fine. But you guys gotta give it all you've got, alright?" He said, a ghost of the former Ash's spunk and determination returning to his face. His two pokemon squealed with happiness, and began conversing between themselves excitedly.
Ash took another sip of his coffee. This might be fun.
Paul massaged his temples. His pokemon just didn't get it.
They needed to get stronger, in order to win the upcoming Battle Tower competition. Eat, sleep, fight, level up. There wasn't much to it. His pokemon did all of that, and it did show excellent results. His pokemon were disciplined, intelligent, and powerful.
So why couldn't his Torterra withstand one lousy flamethrower?
Of course there was the type advantage, but his Torterra had endurance. He knew so, from the way it had survived an onslaught of ice and fighting moves (two of its other weaknesses). Why then, had one measly little runt of a charmander, with a badly aimed flamethrower, been able to knock his massive, two ton Torterra unconscious?
Perhaps it was the so called "big meanie" way he trained his pokemon. Paul snorted at the thought, calling the giant ground tortoise back to it's pokeball with a slender red beam that burst from the shiny sphere. A near-sighted little boy, his current challenger, had stumbled upon Paul training his Murkrow in the Battle Zone. The boy had been horrified at Paul's unorthodox training methods, calling him a "big meanie", and challenging him to a battle. The boy now stood across the battle field, blinking at his charmander, shocked at its feat of taking down the seemingly invincible torterra. The charmander itself seemed quite surprised with itself as well.
Paul allowed a cold smirk to creep across his features.
"I'll give you credit, kid, I never thought you and that loser charmander of yours could pull that off. But do you honestly believe you can win against me with that runt?" Paul challenged. The boy immediately became enraged.
"Take it back!! Boomer's no runt! Your just made cuz your stupid turtle thing's wimpy!" The boy raged, balling his hands into fists. Paul shrugged, letting the comment fill the air before replying.
"Stroke of luck then, I suppose. But luck can only last so long…"
Paul snatched a pokeball off his belt, and upon feeling it enlarge, threw it into the air, the ball bursting open, a pokemon appearing in the red beam it casted.
His Electabuzz roared, towering menacingly over the charmander.
"Thunderpunch."
Sparks flew as a muscular fist crackling with electricity slammed viciously into the charmander's frail body. The small red lizard sent up a stream of dust as was sent flying.
It's battered body slowly came to a stop at the boy's feet. It moaned in agony, sending a few droplets of blood rolling down to the ground. The boy burst into tears, making the mistake of picking up the limp body, causing the charmander to shriek as its internal wounds stirred, more blood gushing from its mouth. The boy sent a terrified look at Paul, who only shrugged, smirking. The boy screamed. Paul had honestly never seen anyone run from him so fast. His electabuzz glanced up at him timidly, expecting a reprimand for some flaw in it's performance, but Paul simply called it back to it's ball.
Paul dusted himself off, and began to head towards the pokemon center.
It had been an entertaining day.
Author's Note: Long enough for ya? ;) I made dear Paul a bully, didn't I? Personally, I believe he's much more dangerous than he acts in Diamond and Pearl. But that's gonna fit into the plot! It is a yaoi people, just bear with me.