LOL drama. To be fair, it's pretty good for a sixteen-year-old just out of noobhood. :P


Chapter Nine: Swamp't Down (Farewell to Whom? Storms Brewing!)

Leaf blinked several times. Had Roark just said what she thought he just said? A bit unnerved, she smiled weakly and said, "What?"

"You heard me." He took a step towards her, and she involuntarily flinched. "Just because I find you attr—, I mean, cool, doesn't mean that I should let you go for stealing Skipper."

Indignant, Leaf raised her voice. "Hey, I did not steal Swampert! Or any other Pokemon, for that matter. Hell, he's probably not even yours. I found him dying on a beach, while you were nowhere in sight."

Roark's scowl deepened. "A likely story."

"Hold on, Roark." Brock put his hand on the boy's shoulder, possibly to restrain him from taking violent action. "If Leaf says she saved him, then she saved him. She wouldn't lie about something like this."

Roark bit his lip.

"Leaf," Swampert said suddenly. "He is my trainer. Let me prove it to you." He slowly walked towards Roark, who stared him in the eye evenly. As the Pokemon got closer, Roark lifted a pale hand, fingers outstretched and trembling slightly. Swampert, never taking his gaze off of the boy's face, ducked his head down and nuzzled the hand with his nose.

And suddenly a light weight left Leaf's hip as Swampert's Poke Ball dissolved into a pile of red dust.

Roark suddenly threw his arms around Swampert's broad neck and started bawling. "I'm sorry, Skipper!" he sobbed, his falling tears absorbed by the Pokemon's damp skin. "I was wrong! I never should've done what I did, and I hate myself for it! You should've never looked back—"

Swampert patted him on the back soothingly, being at a loss for words.

"I think," Brock said sensibly, letting go of Roark, "you should tell us what all this is about. We've all been through a huge ordeal, and we don't need some mystery shoved on us."

Roark gasped raggedly as he tore himself away from his Pokemon. He gulped loudly before trying to steady his breathing. "I-I guess I should," he admitted shakily. "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid. Let me start from the top.

"I turned fourteen – this was back while I was still in Sinnoh – and wanted a starter Pokemon, but not Turtwig, Chimchar, or Piplup. They all seemed unappealing to me. I wanted something interesting, exotic, something that all noobs want at that age … no offense to present company, of course," he added quickly.

"None taken," Leaf replied smoothly.

"So I talked my dad into getting me a Mudkip. So off he goes to Hoenn to pick one up for me, taking his oh-so-lovable Bastiodon with him, and who does he tell to defend the gym while he's gone? Me. And I sucked at it. Steelix won most of the battles, of course, but he did it all on his own. So I started to rethink my priorities from there.

"Dad came back with a Mudkip, with Ancientpower bred onto it, no less, and then told me that I could pay him back for it by taking up the first Sinnoh gym for the next couple of years. I wasn't exactly keen on that idea, since I'd just been doing something pretty close to that; but turns out it was a lot easier than trying to use Pokemon that weren't actually mine, you know? And most gym leaders have to run out and get new Pokemon every now and then, since they need to be kept under a certain level for challengers of a certain strength, but since two-thirds of all the noobs took Turtwig or Piplup, and the other third always ended up catching a Budew or something, it would take months before I had to go out and catch somebody new. So me and three of my Pokemon – Skipper, Anni, and Emily – started getting pretty close, not like Brock and his twenty million Geodude."

"Hey, I'm tough!" Brock interrupted indignantly. "Every Kanto trainer remembers from their noob days when one of my Geodude crushed them! Half of them took three tries to beat me!"

Roark rolled his eyes. "I'm talking. So anyway, I saw a Contest on TV once. The lights, the drama, the love-your-Pokemon-as-it-is stuff … that hooked me. So, after several months of getting the living daylights kicked out of me by noobs, I decided to become a coordinator."

"You WHAT?"

He grinned at Leaf's shocked expression. "Yeah, a coordinator. It's really interesting once you get into it. I tried to convince my dad that. Then he convinced me that getting a shovel thrown at your head can really hurt.

"He kicked me out of the house and told me that any coordinator related to him couldn't stay in Sinnoh. So I left. There wasn't any crying or anything, I never was particularly close to my family anyway. My three main Pokemon were my family now. We boarded a ship for Kanto and, well, goodbye heritage.

"All of them wore an Everstone in some way or another, since I didn't want them to evolve. But while we were on the ship, I was battling some guy with a Bagon, and Skipper won, but just before fainting … the Bagon accidentally kicked Skipper, cutting that nasty scar into him and knocking his Everstone collar off. It fell over the railing and into the water. I called out to Skipper, tried to stop his shape from changing, pleaded with him, but it was no use. He was a Marshtomp."

Swampert-who-shall-henceforth-be-known-as-Skipper looked at his trainer sadly.

"He saw what'd happened to him and gave me this look, like he was saying, 'What is this?' And I rejected him." A bit of a trembling crept back into his voice. "I t-told him to go. I said that if he was evolved, he d-didn't deserve me and should g-go back to the m-muck and slime where he came from. So he j-jumped over the railing—" He suddenly dissolved into a fresh wave of sobs.

Tentatively, Leaf reached out and touched his shoulder. To her surprise, he didn't shove her away or even flinch. "I'm sorry, Roark. That must have sucked. But Swampert – Skipper – he's yours again. He forgives you. Don't you?"

Skipper nodded in affirmative, patting the boy's other shoulder in sympathy.

"Um … Skipper? I still wish you didn't have to leave. I'll miss you. Paris will miss you …" Paris. Ah. That could get sticky. If Roark—

Skipper chuckled, as if reading her mind. "Paris will be fine, Leaf. There's no need to let Roark in on this, to be honest. She hatched as your Pokemon, and she'll stay that way. I doubt I'll need to say goodbye to her, since she loves you so much more than she does me."

Leaf shook her head.

"Oh, yes, she does. Pokemon can have strong bonds with their trainers, Leaf. Dreadfully strong." A bit of apprehensiveness crept into his regretful tone.

Roark took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself again as he looked at Leaf and tried to laugh. "I guess this means we won't be seeing you again, which is a shame. Unless you're planning on becoming a coordinator, which I doubt, so if you want to walk …"

In that moment, Leaf realized that she was in love.


"You're not serious, are you?"

Lightning's eyes were wide open in horror as he watched Leaf approach him from the impressive building known as the Contest Hall, grinning broadly as she reached him in the grassy park.

"I'm excited about this," she said cheerfully. "Well, not the contest part, but the fact that Roark will be there!" She sighed romantically and swooned.

Lightning rushed to catch her before she hit the pavement, much to Peach's displeasure. "I don't want you to enter this contest! Wait, that was rude. Let me put it another way: I don't have a talented rival, and I don't need one!" he explained worriedly, helping her back to her feet.

Leaf blushed. "You think I'm talented?"

"Well, yeah. Even though you lost – good job at losing, by the way – your battling could've swept the judges away. Except for Frosti stalling. The contest is tomorrow morning, so we'll need to get in some practice if we want to win."

She laughed. "I'm not entering the contest."

"Well, I … wait … but you just came from—"

"Escorting Roark to the Contest Hall. He wanted to get a feel for it."

"Ah …" Lightning rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, feeling stupid. "Too bad. Swampert would've slaughtered the judges."

"He's not mine."

The statement was so abrupt that Lightning blinked several times before realizing what she'd said. "What?"

"He's Roark's. It's a long story, but now that they've found each other again, I should just step out of the picture gracefully while I still have a chance."

Lightning decided that this must be one of those things that shouldn't be elaborated upon, for fear that Leaf would explode from the effort of containing emotion, so he merely nodded.

"Have you seen Fire and Ocean?"

"They stuck Ocean back in custody a while ago. Fire left as soon as you lost. He was heading for Mount Moon, 'away from us losers'."

"Jerk."

"Yeah, he's a pain in the—"

A Shadow Ball narrowly missed Lightning's head, singing the top of his hair slightly. The dark purple orb, cloaked in some arcane gas, exploded when it hit a nearby tree.

"HEY, MORON! TRYING TO TAKE MY HEAD OFF, ARE YOU?" Lightning yelled indignantly, as Peach hurriedly fondled his blond hair while scowling at no one in particular. He looked around wildly, but saw no one. "COME OUT AND SHOW YOURSELF, OR I'LL—"

"Watch your aim, Shadowson," a nearby voice said coldly. "For that, you'll stay in there for a week. Return."

Baffled, the two humans darted towards it and reached a wooden bench where a trainer was sitting with her back to them, her Pokemon in front of her. All Leaf could see was that the Pokemon was a silvery quadruped before it was recalled half a second later.

"Excuse me!" Lightning said tensely, placing his hands on his hips in what he obviously hoped was an intimidating stance. Peach imitated his position.

The trainer slowly turned around to face them, rolling her eyes. She was slender, with thick, knee-length blond hair cascading over her narrow shoulders. She wore a short, emerald-green dress which ended mid-thigh, and her shiny black high-tops encased her small, narrow feet. Her eyes were hazel, but not the deep-and-luminous-pools-of-shining-amber hazel. More like the judge-a-book-by-its-cover, tick-me-off-and-you-die hazel.

Sitting next to her was a tall rabbit Pokemon, whose voluptuous body boasted its ridiculous curves. Its brown fur was dull in contrast to its cream-colored fur which lined its arms, ears, and lower legs. Its huge pale eyebrows angled sharply towards its bright red eyes.

"Looky, looky, what do I see? A brand-new Pokemon waiting for me!"

Leaf was suddenly tempted to pick up a rock and smash the Pokedex with it. However, she was pretty sure that wouldn't do much more than cause it to say, "Naaaarrrrrrrgh learned Rock Smash! It's not very effective …"

"Lopunny, the Strange Pokemon. Gender is Female, but even if it were male it would still be female, if you think about it. Height is Too Curvy For You, Weight is Grossly Anorexic. Lopunny is a girl about town. They prance around in those fur-boots of theirs and cuddle up with the guys until the broad daylight. What's really scary is that there are males among them, and it's hard to tell which is which, since they all love men. So if you see a Lopunny, run for your life because it's probably Michael Jackson. Damn, that's a weird image. I can see it now: Michael Jackson, the Funny Bunny with the Yummy Tummy."

Lightning hooted with laughter, slapping his knees so hard that they bruised. He sat down hard on the ground, convulsing in hilarity.

"Oh, yes, very amusing," the strange trainer snarled, glaring down at him in distaste, her Lopunny mirroring her expression. "I'll have you know that Fokagirl is a champion. She's won so many contests for me, it's not even funny."

Lightning quit laughing, and his eyes practically popped out of his head. "Fokagirl? As in, the Fokagirl? But that would mean … yeah … you're Kaleri Kutter!"

The girl smirked. "Why yes, moron, I am. Hoenn Grand Festival winner, yes. Sexy, yes. Superior to you in every way? Definitely." She turned to Leaf, and her expression changed. "Hi! You're Leaf, right? I saw your Swampert crush that Tyranitar the other day. It would probably own everybody else in a battle round."

"Well, he's not mine anymore," Leaf admitted. "He's Roark's. I had to give him back earlier, so sorry. It would've been neat using him in the contest, though."

"Ooh, you're going to become a coordinator! Wise choice, my friend."

"But I'm not—"

"Here in contests, we take beauty and turn it into an art. And that's a shame about the Swampert. However, it's good to focus on just a few Pokemon. My fourth and newest team member is a bit lacking in talent, but give him a few days and you'll think I've been training him my whole life. He's a rare species, by the way. You don't find many of his kind just sitting around." She puffed herself up proudly, as if she was some rare species that everybody was just dying to get their hands on.

"Really? What sort of Pokemon is—?"

"I'm sorry I called you a moron!" Lightning interrupted reverently, getting to his knees and bowing to Kaleri. "You are my idol. The way you blazed through the contests with just three Pokemon never ceases to fascinate me. Will you take me in as your apprentice?"

Kaleri snickered. "No. I don't take losers under my wing. But I know you'll need this." She pulled a book from a purse that should have been too small for a book that size. Tossing it at his head, she got up and walked away, laughing evilly. Fokagirl paused for a brief moment to smirk at them before following her trainer.

"That was weird," Leaf commented, swooping down and catching the heavy book before it could nail Lightning's head. She glanced at its front cover and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, no wonder she said you'd need this."

"What? What?" Lightning asked as he jumped to his feet and looked over at it, rubbing his head anxiously to make sure it wasn't broken. Peach snuggled up to his head comfortingly, and the three of them read the title on the cover: The Dummy's Guide to Contests. The picture underneath the big, bold letters showed Kaleri grinning cheesily back at them, with a huge, sparkling Water Pulse just behind her. The dazzling blue waves looked as if they were about to wash Kaleri right out of the picture.

"Why is it she likes me and not you?" Leaf asked, glancing up at Kaleri's retreating figure.

"Maybe it's that aura thing," Lightning mused aloud. "Like, she knows I'm destined to beat her, so she's scared of me. Or maybe it's just your generic likeability."

"My what?"

"Never mind." Lightning's eyes narrowed as they took in the name of the author. "Hmm. She wrote this … so it's probably full of stuff I need to know. Let's leaf through it. Ha, ha, ha, that's a joke. Get it, Leaf? … Leaf?"

Leaf and Peach both sweatdropped. "Darling," Peach sighed, stroking his neck affectionately, "I'll love you until the end of time, but your sense of humor should be pushed off a tall bridge."


The first thing Cobalt noticed was that he was still alive. That was surprising. Why was that again? Oh, right, I fell out a window, he remembered. Of course it's surprising. Obviously.

The second thing he noticed was that a million naked women were parachuting down from the sky towards him. He stared at them and grinned dazedly for a moment before realizing that this was obviously a hallucination. He decided not to look at them, no matter how much he wanted to.

The third thing was that something large, smooth and furry was in his throat. He stopped wondering if this was another hallucination when he realized that it was slurping something. He shuddered violently as he felt its movement, and heard it gulping from within himself.

"Nnnggmlllrrng!" he tried to shout.

"He's awake, he's awake, he's awake!"

"Yay!" said the furry thing in his throat, and it pulled itself out. Cobalt moaned as it was painfully retracted, sliding over his tongue and leaving a large furball on it.

Opening his eyes, he noticed that two people were standing over him, looking concerned. Well, "people" was probably not the right term for them. "A single person and a somewhat slimy weasel-worm thing" would probably fit the situation better. His sunglasses were hanging from one of his ears haphazardly, and he fitted them back into place.

"You're alive! That's just awesome!" the Phrygoil exclaimed giddily. "Because if you weren't, I'd have to eat your carcass, and I almost wouldn't want to do that."

Cobalt made a face before spitting out the furball. He massaged his throat carefully. "Um, okay. Thanks for not eating me, then. What exactly happened?"

"Well," Gina said, tossing back her hair, "you jumped out the window. That's a stupid thing to do even at ground level, but you jumped at a huge height, which had a forty-five percent chance of—"

"I know that part," he said, cutting her off. "Just skip to the part where you save me from being splattered all over the place like a broken egg, all right?"

"I was getting there. Anyway, I saw you falling, so I called out Qwerty and made him shoot out a Hydro Pump to slow your fall. It worked, but you were falling face-first, and your mouth was open, so you ended up swallowing about ten gallons of water or something. We caught you and rushed you away from there. We're just on the outskirts of town right now."

"Nobody followed us?"

"Right. So then you started convulsing for no reason. Well, it was no reason until we realized that drowning is a pretty good reason, so maybe that counted. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do at that point, but suddenly Phrygoil came up, stuck her head down your throat—"

Cobalt gagged and spat out another furball.

"And she chugged down all the water in your lungs! Isn't that weird?"

He gave her the look of death: eyebrows pressed close together, nostrils flared, mouth twisted into a scowl. "A weasel put her head in my throat. Of course that's weird!" Automatically, his hand made its way to where his bag had been before he'd fainted, but only succeeded in grabbing empty air. "Where's the loot?"

Gina gave him a confused look. "What loot?"

He facepalmed. "The loot I stole from the Pewter Museum of Science. Duh."

"Oh, that loot. The stuff from PMS. Here." She gestured to a nearby bush. "I hid it in there because Phrygoil wanted to eat it."

"Oh, so that's where you put it!" Phrygoil exclaimed, diving for the bush.

"Cut that out!" Cobalt ordered, grabbing her by the tail and immediately regretting it. The tail was soft, squishy, slimy, soggy, and possibly soaked in some sewer slop, which would explain the stench. It was like reaching into a large bin marked "Brains". Letting go and hurriedly wiping his hands on his jeans, he sternly looked her in the eye and said, "We don't eat that stuff. Repeat after me: I will not eat rocks."

"I will not eat rocks …" Phrygoil repeated in a mystical tone, looking a bit psychotic.

"You're scaring me." He reached into the bush and pulled out the bag. Grinning greedily, he retrieved the Moon Stone from the coarse brown folds in the bag, and he gazed at it almost sweetly.

"What about the other thing? That's not a rock," Phrygoil said, snaking her head into the bag and retrieving the object which had, until recently, been residing in the huge Aerodactyl skull. It wasn't much larger than a clenched fist. Its semi-transparent surface revealed its ocher depths, which looked mysterious in the afternoon sun. It was very pretty, to be sure, but Cobalt had seen a million pretty things just a few minutes ago.

"It might still be worth something," he said, taking it from her toothy jaws and looking at it. Next to the Moon Stone, it looked like supernatural crap. He shrugged and put both objects back into his bag, which he slung over his shoulder.

"You look like Santa Claus in his druggie days," Gina commented, gazing at him in the way that a mother would gaze at her child on its first day of school.

"Oh, I'm all choked up."

"Can I come with you?" Phrygoil asked suddenly, looking him in the eye. "I'm good at helping people steal things. I want to see the world and spread the truth of Ronald McDonald to everyone."

Cobalt stared at her. "Phrygoil, that's not something—"

"Phlash."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Daddy calls me Phlash Phryer," she explained. "They're spelled with P-H because Daddy says that he was on acid when he met Mom, whatever that means. But you can call me Phlash for short."

"Uh-huh…" Phlash? That was a new one. Picturing the word in his mind with its new spelling, he realized that it was hard to wrap his mouth around it. "Okay, then … Phlash. Listen, I'm not exactly some noob who's journeying around looking for ninety million Pokemon to catch to get badges or ribbons or the meaning of life or whatever the hell they're looking for these days. I'm a trained criminal in a high-ranking position of an organized organization seeking world dominance through politics, crime, and cosmetics."

"You mean a gang?"

"That too. And I'm more into the really strong Pokemon, if you know what I mean. Like Gengar, and Dragonite, and other cool stuff. So you see, I don't need you, and you don't need me. It's—"

"That's where you're wrong," Phlash said, cutting him off. "I need someone to show me all the places where McDonald's hasn't yet appeared, so I can spread his word to people. And you … you need someone to be your friend."

Cobalt stared at her. A friend? What the hell was that? Oh wait, he thought, I remember. A friend is one of those things you get when you become so insecure that you can't stand to be alone with yourself for more than five minutes. "I don't need a friend."

"Yes you do. And if you don't think that's a good idea, I'll give you better reason to catch me."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I'll sing Barney songs until you do."

His mouth fell open in horror.

"See? I'm worthy. Here we go! I love you … you love me …"

He twitched. Don't give in. You've been trained. Endure. Endure. Endure …

"…We're best friends like friends should be…"

"STOOOOOPPPPPP!" he howled, covering his ears with his hands. "MAKE IT STOP!"

"… With a great big hug, and a kiss from me to you …" she sang, raising her voice.

"PLEASE!"

"… Won't you say—"

"NOOOO!"

"—you love—"

"AARRGGHH!"

"—me—"

"YAAUUGGHH!"

"—too."

Silence.

Carefully, he removed his hands from his ears and looked at Phlash, who seemed disappointed that he hadn't cracked under the pressure.

"Ha! I win!" he laughed gleefully. "I have endured your brutal torture! Now I'll turn my back on you and forget that we ever met!"

Phlash took a deep breath.

"Aw, c'mon, don't cry about it," he said hastily. "I've learned how to keep torture from getting to me. I mean really getting to me. Loads of people learn it the hard way."

She smirked evilly and opened her mouth.

"What are you … you're not … oh, sh—"

"Barney is a dinosaur from our imaginaaaation—"

He plugged his ears again in a big hurry. "I can't hear you, I can't hear you, I can't—"

"—AND WHEN HE'S TALL HE'S WHAT WE CALL A DINOSAUR SENSAAAATION!"

Shuddering, he clenched his teeth.

"BARNEY SHOWS US LOTS OF THINGS, LIKE HOW TO PLAY PRETEEEND…"

Must … be … strong.

"…ABC'S AND ONE-TWO-THREE'S AND HOW TO BE A FRIEEEND!"

He snapped.

"GYAAAAOOOO!" he howled, falling to the ground ungracefully. His face contorted into a tortured mask.

"BARNEY COMES TO PLAY WITH US WHENEVER WE MAY NEEEED HIM …"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGHHH!" He writhed on the ground, convulsing in sheer mental agony.

"… BARNEY CAN BE YOUR FRIEND TOO—"

He clawed at the grassy earth madly, seeking some sort of release. This sort of pain was beyond words.

"—IF YOU JUST MAKE-BELIEVE HIM!"

Cobalt was left on the ground in some sort of twisted shape usually reserved for gymnasts and yoga practitioners. He shivered uncontrollably.

"Still not convinced? Goody! I have a whole couple albums up in my head somewhere. What fun! SOMETIMES I—"

"ENOUGH!" he roared, lifting his head and glaring crazily. Still shaking, he pulled a Poke Ball off his belt and tossed it at Phlash, who was happily absorbed into the ball before it immediately pinged.

Rolling onto his back, he noticed that Gina was sitting up in a tree, staring at him with huge eyes.

"Oh," he said, grinning weakly. "Hi. What're you doin' up there? Y'know, I think I'll show the boss a new kind of torture. Sound waves affecting the brain and all that. Maybe I can get promoted. Hee hee hee hee. "

Then he passed out again.


Leaf and Lightning sat in the McDonald's that evening, flipping through the pages of The Dummy's Guide to Contests more than eating. Their Pokemon were making up for that: Frosti, Paris, and Peach were digging into a massive pile of cheeseburgers like there was no tomorrow, while Peter munched contentedly on a salad. Dory nibbled on her Apple Dippers, her large blue ears turning this way and that as she glared darkly at everything she saw.

Cheri didn't even bother with the food. She was curled up in the pile of brightly colored Happy Meal bags, her eyes cast downward in some sort of grieving expression. Peter paused his eating for a moment to leer at her triumphantly before returning to his salad, his face bulging with lettuce.

She and Paris are more alike than they know, Leaf thought pityingly, glancing up at her depressed caterpillar. Both of them have been separated from their fathers. At least Paris is taking it calmly.

Which was true, if the definition of calmly was "giggling madly, spitting globs of cheese at Frosti, and doing everything that doesn't consist of sighing and gazing out the window".

"Ancientpower can be bred onto Lapras, right?" Leaf asked nobody in particular, sipping at her Coke and pressing several buttons on the Pokedex, looking a bit flustered. "If I'd known that, I could've realized Swampert – I mean, Skipper – was raised by a trainer."

"You know, if you'd have just pushed on my scroll bar like most people, you would've already noticed that she had bred moves," the Pokedex commented nastily. Leaf pointedly ignored it, setting it back onto the table.

Mom hasn't left a message, she thought to herself, having called home earlier from the Pokemon Center. That's odd; she should've called me by now, considering the thing with Tyran. I've tried her home, work, and cell numbers. If she doesn't pick up soon, I'll have to resort to calling those goony old ladies in her knitting club. Yecch.

She picked up another French fry, bit into it, and chewed it thoughtfully. She looked back down at the book, which was currently turned to a page in the "Good Contest Pokemon vs. Sucky Contest Pokemon" chapter.

The fact that most morons don't know is that any Pokemon which I own will automatically make you the greatest coordinator in the city, or wherever you happen to be at the moment. Milotic demonstrates your amazing ability at bringing out the beauty in Pokemon. Kirlia gives you essential tricks that the enemy is only too likely not to see until it's hanging upside-down and screaming for mercy. And, of course, there's Lopunny, who's just too cool not to love, and anyone who disagrees will get their asses kicked. If I catch any more Pokemon, it's obvious that they're the way to go when it comes to picking Pokemon.

Other great Pokemon for contests include, but are not limited to: Arcanine, Garchomp, Dragonite, Ninetales, Gorebyss, Lucario, Orezbus, Blaziken, Empoleon, Floraso, Raichu, and members of the Eevee, Ayell, and Ralts families. In other words, anything that's both strong and at least remotely cool.

"The Tyranitar butt-kicking gave me an idea," Lightning was saying, not seeming to realize that she wasn't really listening to him. "An appeal with Peter using the String Shot approach. Tackle's not very exciting, the Pokemon just runs into something and that's it. But with String Shot you can make a bunch of awesome shapes. And for the battle rounds, I'll probably use Peach to Thundershock her way through—"

"Sure, go ahead and ignore me," Dory muttered sourly, curling up her lip to reveal large buckteeth.

"—And if I get to the final round, I'll pull out the old Volt Tackle card. That'll absolutely demolish them."

"Shouldn't you be preparing for it?" Leaf asked, not moving her gaze from the book.

"Nah."

"But you said earlier that you should practice—"

"I said some practice. Most of the noobs I'm going up against don't even know the difference between a round and a ribbon. Anything should cream them. All I need to worry about is Kaleri and making our way through the battle rounds."

"Mm." Leaf's eyes skipped down a couple of paragraphs.

You've most likely heard all that "any Pokemon can own the contests" crap. The fact is that most, not all, can. Examples of what not to bring to the Contest Hall are as follows:

Gyarados – It's ugly, it's a brute, and it's Milotic's evil twin. Case closed.

Plusle/Minun – It's entire life revolves around cheerleading. That gets old in a hurry, and there's not much else you can do with it. Plus, I don't like it.

Lickilicky – It's fat, it's ugly, and its eye-hurting color will always clash with what you're wearing. Always.

Koffing/Weezing – We have contests to forget about issues like pollution, and we don't want to remember! Not to mention that its stench will offend everyone and therefore lower your chances of making it past appeal.

Unown – Nobody cares if it's a novelty and that you looked through a million caves to find one! There's only so much you can do with Hidden Power, damn it!

Bidoof – It needs no reason.

Glemura – If you ignore the fact that its attacking sucks, you should agree with me in that fish that are always crying their eyes out are not going to help you in your coordinating career. Face that and you'll thank me later.

Ditto – Transform gets old. Fast.

Probopass – It's a fricking face with a stache. A frizzy black stache. Nobody needs you to remind them of their creepy first date, thank you very much.

"What ees thees? Eet ees a Lapras, no?"

Glancing up, Leaf was shocked to see a guy with huge sunglasses standing right next to their table. A girl was standing next to him, looking bored. At his feet stood a Phrygoil, looking excited as she looked around wildly, her nostrils flaring as the exciting scents of grease and slime flooded them.

"Eet ees ze shinee Lapras!" the guy exclaimed, leaning closer. "Eef I cood 'ave a momaynt weeth ze Lapras, I would like to gayt eets peectoor weeth eet!" He brandished a cheap-looking disposable camera.

Everyone stared at him.

"Psycho," Frosti muttered.

"I 'eard zat!"

"Dude," Leaf sighed, "what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be working at that drugstore in Viridian, or is that just your day job?"

"Eh … eh … I know not of what you are trying to zay 'ere. I am merelee a Fraynch tooreest who 'appens to be zightzeeing at ze moment."

"Yeah, but that accent is so fake that it hurts my brain. Leave us alone."

"Honestly!" the guy fumed, stamping his foot. "I worked hard on that accent! Don't call it fake!"

Leaf raised an eyebrow.

"Aw, screw it."

"You're not going to be stealing Paris," Leaf said firmly. "That's what you're trying to do, I know it."

"No I'm—"

"Yes, you are. You finger that huge bag when you look at her."

He jumped and glanced at the canvas bag slung over his shoulder. Sure enough, he was.

"You're Team Rocket people, aren't you?"

"Yes!" the girl next to him said automatically. "We—mmph!"

"Don't listen to Gina," the young man said, laughing nervously as he smothered his companion's mouth with his hand. "She hasn't had her medication yet."

"Liar."

"Hey! Nobody calls ME, the amazing Cobalt who has no apparent first name, a liar! You're goin' down, girl. Phlash, go get her!"

"'Phlash'?" Leaf asked incredulously as the Phrygoil took a step towards her, staring her down with blood-red eyes.

"Short for Phlash Phryer. Don't look at me like that; it was her dad's idea, not mine."

"Then she's even weirder than we thought. Frosti, it's go time!"

Frosti glanced around, seemed satisfied that the number of other people present (one, but that was the worker at the counter and why should he count anyway?) wasn't too high, and leapt towards Phlash, eyes and tail-flame shining bright.

"Um…" Cobalt glanced at his Pokedex to check his Pokemon's moves. "Phlash, catch him in a Wrap!"

Plash shot forward, moving surprisingly fast for her short legs. Half a second later, her long body was coiled around the hapless lizard Pokemon.

"Leaf…" Frosti moaned, as his foe squeezed him tightly.

"Quick, Frosti, Sunny Day followed up by an Ember!" his trainer cried.

Although his tail was pinned down, he still managed to brighten its flame. The setting sun outside suddenly poured blinding light through the window, mysteriously expanding the small tongues of flame which flew from Frosti's mouth. Phlash winced as the attack hit, but managed to keep her grip on him, squeezing harder.

"Oooh, a fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" Peach chanted, leaning further over the edge of the table to look until she fell over, landing clumsily on the floor.

"Hey, you can't have a two-on-one battle! That's not fair! Take her out, Qwerty!" Gina yelled, tossing out a Poke Ball. A small blue creature materialized on the tiled floor in front of Peach, his blue tail and head fin quivering in anticipation. A pair of bright orange gills sat on his circular head. It was as if Skipper had been shrunk down to bite size.

"DO YOU LIEK ME? DO YOU LIEK ME? PLEASE SAY YOU LIEK ME!" the Pokemon yelled at the top of his lungs, bouncing around as if he badly needed to pee.

"Mudkip—" The Pokedex was cut off by its own snickers. "Hee, hee, hee. I've been waiting for this one. Mudkip, the Well-Lieked Pokemon. Gender is Male. Height is Puny, Weight is Floppy Pond Creature Thing. So, I heard you liek them. Who knows why it's Mudkip that was in the meme, but everyone loves it now. Whenever a noobish trainer encounters a Mudkip, you can be sure that the sound of unzipping pants fills the air. A recent study shows that Mudkip is the most popular standard starter Pokemon, being chosen fifty-three percent of the time in Hoenn, and twenty-one percent of the time nationwide. This means that approximately forty Mudkip per year are given out to trainers who intend on harassing them in extremely undesirable ways. That's very … strange. And can I just add—?"

"No, that's enough. Frosti, spray her with another Ember! Then Scratch her until she lets go!"

"Phlash, keep him in that Wrap! Use Tail Whip to keep yourself from getting too hurt!"

"Peach, Charm the mud-thing, and then Thundershock it!"

"Alrighty, Qwerty, protect yourself with Mud Shot, then Dig to avoid the Thundershock."

As Phlash gripped him even more tightly, Frosti sprayed her with another solar-powered Ember. The flames danced around on her oily skin before flickering out in the gust of air created by Phlash's long, pointed tail, which she wagged cutely in front of Frosti's face. The Charmander frowned, as he tried and failed to lift his bound arms and swipe at his captor. Frustrated, he twisted his hands upward to reach her tight coils, clawing at them half-heartedly.

Meanwhile, Peach stared at Qwerty, her eyes widening in order to look as adorable as possible. Coupled with her slightly protruding lower lip, this look managed to send the bouncing blue Pokemon on a guilt trip.

"YOU LIEK ME? YOU … LIEK ME?"

His eyes softened in sympathy, but nevertheless he stood up on his hind paws and looked at his hands, which suddenly covered themselves in a sticky brown slime. Hurriedly he wiped the mud all over himself, ending up looking filthy. He then leapt into the air, pinwheeling his arms around wildly. As he began falling back down, Peach flicked her small hand at him, launching a small bolt of lightning; although the attack did a fair amount of damage to the small water-type, the mud coating his body absorbed most of it. His arms moved so fast that by the time he hit the floor, he managed to begin burrowing through it, sending small chunks of it flying everywhere.

Everyone hit the floor to avoid the flying projectiles; by the time they dared to raise their heads, Qwerty had vanished. All that remained was a misshapen hole in the floor, a small amount of dirt coating its edges. Oddly, Frosti and Phlash hadn't noticed this, as they were still Wrapping or Scratching at each other.

"Right," Leaf said, getting to her feet and brushing herself off; the others followed her example. "That was interesting. Okay, Frosti, give her a couple more Embers to deal with, and keep Scratching your way out of there! Use the claws on your feet too!"

"Oh, I don't think so! Phlash, keep on Wrapping him, and give him another taste of Tail Whip while you're at it!"

Lightning looked around nervously, but there was no sign of Qwerty. "Okay, Peach, he'll be coming up from underneath, so be on the lookout for him. Also, charge up a Volt Tackle to hit him when he does reappear."

"Ooh! Ooh! Volt Tackle!" Gina squealed excitedly. "That's, like, one of the rarest moves! I've been looking for a Light Ball for ages, and I need to figure out why it only affects the Pikachu family. I mean, what's so special about Pikachu? Shouldn't Mareep or Shinx be equally compatible with the Light Ball? That's what I, Breeder Gina, aim to find out. Oh, the DRAMA …!"

Naturally, everyone ignored her.

While Phlash was keeping Frosti Wrapped up, the orange lizard himself spat out two more Embers, still strengthened by the sun's blinding rays. The miniature fireballs pelted Phlash's skin, and she winced as a small area of it on her right shoulder slowly turned a burned brown. The smell of cooking meat wafted through the air; Frosti's nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent, and hungrily he clawed at Phlash's soft body with renewed gusto. The weasel-like Pokemon squealed as the gashes were carved into her, dripping a little blood, but she still summoned the energy to whack Frosti with her tail. The slimy appendage made contact, and he scowled as a patch of damp residue was left on his cheek.

Peach, keeping her eyes on the floor warily, began to charge her short yellow fur in electricity, sparks shooting from it dangerously. A faint rumbling emanated from beneath her paws, and she braced herself, teeth clenched. As it got louder, she thought for a moment before deciding that Qwerty would be emerging from the trash can near their booth, and she faced it, determined.

Qwerty burst from the floor near the condiment stand, sending tiny packets of ketchup flying everywhere. One of them landed on Phlash's head, and she shouted, "KETCHUUUUUUP! GIMME KETCHUP GIMME KETCHUP GIMME!" Her body whipped through the air, tossing Frosti into the trash can, as she flicked her head and snapped wildly at the packet, teeth flashing. She caught it in her fanged jaws, and the red goo spurted everywhere, staining her mouth a deep crimson. Eagerly she shook her head around, trying to catch the flying ketchup with her tongue. Some of the ketchup landed on her body, soaking her sickly-colored fur, and she tore at her own body greedily, injuring herself better than Frosti could have done.

Qwerty, however, kept his head, screaming, "YOU MUST LIEK ME! GRAHHHH!" His muddy body soared toward Peach; however, after blinking a few times he suddenly realized his danger and backpedaled frantically, to no avail.

"Piiiiiiiiii … CHU!" cried the brightly glowing mouse, launching herself at her flying foe. They collided, sizzling, in midair, and Qwerty screeched as the electricity sliced through him. As they hit the ground, stray bolts of lightning zigzagged from her fur and rocketed in all directions. By some freak coincidence, one of them hit Phlash, who yelped and began to run in circles. Another hit Cobalt's knee, and he cursed loudly as he buckled up in pain.

Hearing this, Frosti jumped out of the trash can, walked toward him with a stern expression on his face, and slapped him with his tail. "Naughty words are bad," he scolded.

Cobalt's annoyed reply was cut off by Qwerty's "DO IT LIEK THIS!" as he stood up on his hind legs, raising his tiny forepaws into the air. A massive rumbling began to shake the ground underneath them, and the floor in front of Qwerty burst as water rushed upward, the stench of sewer wafting upwards. As the foul water tore down towards her, Peach squealed and shot a very large Thundershock at it, before the Waterfall pounded her into the floor.

The yellow bolt of lightning leapt into the water, spreading and multiplying in a frenzy until the whole Waterfall was turning a bright neon yellow, crackling with lethal electricity. The wave of voltage spread through the water, back into the sewers, causing a massive boom to be heard from below. Seconds later, a wave of electrified water gushed out from the hole, spreading quickly across the floor in a fizzing flood of death. Everyone's hair slowly stood up on end, frizzing up from excess static.

"Now dat's da shiz," Peter commented, gazing at the pretty colors.

"RUN!" Leaf yelled, recalling all of her Pokemon and leaping onto the table, the other three trainers following suit. She shoved the Pokedex and The Dummy's Guide To Contests back into her handbag, and they all paused only a moment to watch the lethal water covering the floor below, getting higher by the second, before they rushed away, leaping from table to table and pushing at each other in an frantic effort to get to the glass door. The blinding electricity followed them, but they managed to get out the door and outside seconds before the cheap leather seats were swamped under, shriveling from the force of the voltage.

The door swung safely shut behind them, but the deadly electricity simply licked at the door, creating cracks in it, threatening to give way. It was suddenly apparent to them that this was no little mishap that could be wished away with a simple call to the fire department; this was real, this was deadly, and they had better be damn sure that they'd all be fried alive if they didn't move out of there in a big hurry. The trainers didn't even bother to look back; the young heroes dashed one way, while Team Rocket ran pell-mell down the other, neither remembering the cause of the whole problem in the first place until a good while later.

Inside McDonald's, the employee who had stood behind the counter was now crouched on top of it, looking over the scene in dismay and disgust: the seats completely ruined; the trash cans overflowing, the trash within soggy and blackened; the screech of somebody in the bathroom who had been caught by surprise. "I don't get paid enough for this," he muttered, launching himself through the drive-in window.

Had he remained there five seconds longer, he would have met his doom.


"What'll we do?" Leaf moaned, wringing her hands in indecision. They were still running, with downtown Pewter vanishing behind them, the road beneath them flowing smoothly into some tidy suburban neighborhoods. Despite the distance, the sirens were still blaring loudly. Even if the whole city hasn't been flooded by now, we'll still be blamed for the huge mess we made. Ocean probably couldn't have done worse.

"What'll we do?" Lightning repeated grimly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road, which flew under their feet. "What'll we do? We have to keep moving on, that's what we'll do. We can't afford to stick around any longer. They'll probably lock Peach away if we don't." He looked pained at the thought.

"But it wasn't her fault!"

"It wasn't anyone's fault. Not even those goons knew what'd happen. We just have to keep Peach away from water from now on, that's all."

The bright sun, which had been setting, disappeared as soon as Frosti's Sunny Day flickered out, plunging the world into darkness. Blinking frantically from the sudden change, the two runaways attempted to keep from losing direction, but they ended up crashing into a house instead.

"At least they had the decency to put this springy stuff here," Lightning moaned, pulling himself slowly from the hydrangeas.

"Look!" Leaf hissed suddenly, pointing through the window. Lightning grumbled a bit more before walking up and peaking in with her.

The only light inside was coming from the TV, which was glaringly bright against the darkness inside. An old guy was sleeping in an armchair just in front of the window, snoring loudly. The TV was currently airing a news report, in which the reporter was sitting in a helicopter, overlooking the charred ruins of the McDonald's. Its entire ceiling was missing, as were numerous chunks of wall. Against the waves of electricity surrounding it, the fast-food joint looked especially dark and brooding as it belched smoke towards the sky. The large, bright yellow "M" on the building's side was still there, making the scene look even more depressing.

"Here's the spot where this disaster allegedly started," the reporter was yelling, struggling to be heard over the wind. "According to an eyewitness who was working here at the time, the explosion was caused by four teenagers who were vandalizing the place by ordering their Pokemon to dig straight through the floor, causing the nearby reservoir underneath to burst, before electrifying the water. The water is currently spreading at a fast rate through the nearby buildings, and is estimated to flood the entire city by tomorrow morning. Local cleanup volunteers are attempting to stop the flow with their Pokemon, but residents of Pewter are strongly advised to evacuate their homes as quickly as possible. Any information on the teenagers who caused this problem should be reported to the local police force. I'm Todd Anderson, signing off on PBC News."

As the report switched over to a stock market update, Leaf turned to Lightning, her eyes wide in horror. "I can't believe this."

"I know, neither can I," Lightning muttered thoughtfully. "I mean, if a city puts its reservoir underneath McDonald's, you know there's something wrong with them."

"That's not what I meant. We just broke a city, Lightning. One minute it's just a normal battle, the next it's all hideously out of control. Remember how bad those tsunamis were a couple years ago, in India, New Orleans, the Sevii Islands? And they weren't electrified. What have we done?" she whispered. Her mind turned to the people she knew, who at that moment might be fleeing the city themselves: Brock might have been in the middle of a battle with another newbie, would they hear the news in time? And where would he go? The gym would obviously be obliterated, how would the League react to that? Kaleri would more likely than not be screaming obscenities at this turn of events; it was more than likely that she'd make some sort of heroic attempt to keep the electricity at bay. As unlike me as possible, she thought dejectedly. Roark and Skipper, if they couldn't escape … she pushed the thought out of her head. Of course they'd escape. Skipper wouldn't let Roark … she pushed that away too.

Lightning closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "Well, the sooner we get out of here, the better," he said reasonably, trying valiantly to conceal his own shock on the situation. "They're probably too busy evacuating people to be looking very hard for us. By the time they're done, we should be halfway to Celadon, and hopefully they'll have forgotten about us. Trust that Gina person to use Waterfall in a restaurant," he added sourly. "No wonder you need certain badges to get HMs; you need to be proved competent before you can get one. And Gina's obviously not very competent."

The sound of sirens grew louder, wailing through the night like a Mightyena in labor. The trainers glanced over their shoulders anxiously before exchanging wide-eyed glances.

"Let's go," Leaf whispered.

Together they stole through the streets, a pair of dark shadows fleeing the dying city.


Somewhere far away, an island blanketed in peace and quiet sat calmly in the surrounding waters. In a dark, shallow cave overlooking the sandy coast below and the sea beyond, an arcane creature stirred. Its featureless body shimmered as it stretched and looked out on the waning moon, a thin sliver of light in the sky. It lazily stretched out a pseudo-real appendage – an "arm" in the loosest sense of the word – and grabbed a passing Psyduck, cackling madly at the panic in the duck Pokemon's otherwise blank eyes. The water-type struggled uselessly, but was nevertheless engulfed in the black-and-white mass. A crunching sound, like twenty celery sticks breaking all at once, could be heard from within. In an invisible swirl of insanity and the universe's more faulty rules, the Psyduck was annihilated.

The creature, despite all evidence to the contrary, was bored.

Living out here on Cinnabar Island – which the less sophisticated might refer to as "nowhere" – was a stretch, especially when you were doing it for a few hundred years. But he could always count on some idiotic human to try catching him. He'd let them train him for a while before screwing up their world, often driving them insane. Although, he hadn't been caught in years, not since the days when the TMs actually contained good moves. None of this Natural Gift crap.

A soft giggling attracted his attention. Some idiotic couple had decided to watch the "romantic" scenery from the base of his cliff. Didn't they know what sort of monstrous evil lurked here?

In a flash of darkness, he morphed into another form, the one with a shape of utter blackness against which the white eyes and mouth were easily visible. A cloud of some sort of smog shrouded his body. He cracked his knuckles before starting off with a loud, high-pitched scream. Somewhere below, he heard a frightened gasp, much to his delight.

"What's that?"

"Probably just a rabid Noctowl, no need to worry—"

That was his cue to swoop down at them. Drinking in their astonished squeals, he grinned horribly before opening his eyes wider and wider, like two empty pits of death, as he reached at them with claws outstretched …

They leapt up and bolted, screaming all the way. The monster allowed himself an evil cackle, letting it wrack his frame until the entire island shook with it, and numerous Wingull quickly turned around and flew away as fast as their wings could take them. After a few seconds, the cackle dwindled down to a giggle, and then a few gulps of air.

He was quickly bored again.

Another flash of darkness, and he was suddenly some sort of skeletal demon, a nightmare of prehistoric times. A column of sharp spikes cascaded down his spine, and his tail stuck out with all the innocence of a brandished knife. In contrast with his spindly legs and clawed feet, each of his arms ended in a massive scythe, capable of slicing through stone as easily as through hot butter. On his ridged, semicircular head was a pair of dark, blank holes where his eyes should have been, giving the impression that he was blind. How misleading that impression was; he could see everything.

Except—

~You~

The monster swiveled around, only to see no one. "Who's there?" he growled, holding his scythes so they were easily visible.

A breeze swept by, and with it the voice: ~What are you … you … you~

"Can't you see for yourself? I'm not a Pokemon. Not exactly."

He thought he hinted a bit of dark curiosity from the breeze-voice. ~Not human, not Pokemon. What … are … you~

"I'm a … a chaotic." The second the words left his mouth, he snapped it shut. It was the first time he'd actually admitted the fact out loud.

~A chaotic~ The stranger seemed confused. ~What … is that~

The chaotic relaxed slightly. Explaining his existence took a load off his mind, knowing that someone else could understand. "Welllll, you know how Arceus created the world, and all that crap? She used rational laws for that. Gravity, speed of light, et cetera. But all the irrational laws – absolute nothingness, horn space distortion, true chaos – got shoved into a dark corner somewhere. Normally, life wouldn't begin or exist in a place like that. But according to the irrational laws, it could."

~And they … birthed you~

He shifted uncomfortably. "In a sense, yes. It's sort of an agreement thing. As long as the laws exist, we chaotics exist, and vice versa. Some of them get killed off, but that's not a problem."

~Interesting~ the stranger mused. ~So you have some sort of … chaos power~

The chaotic glanced up sharply in surprise. "Well, of course. Obviously the name says it all. I'm one of the more powerful ones, actually. Everyone's terrified of me." He puffed himself up proudly, hoping the stranger would take the hint.

Unfortunately, what the chaotic did not realize is that when an evil being runs into the supreme evil being, the latter will always win. Always.

~I am … sure that they are~ the stranger said. ~But it is … difficult to believe. From the way you scared the two humans earlier … it is easy to see that you are powerful … or a poltergeist~

The chaotic lowered his scythes slightly, confused. "What do you mean?"

~Your life has faded … descended into the role of the local ghost. To join me is … to ascend. To become so powerful that the very earth you stand on shrivels in fear and despair~

Involuntarily, the chaotic glanced down at his feet. The gravelly sand scratched between his bony toes as he thought about it. He wiggled his toes, watching the sand shift under and between them, remembering days gone by as he fled from former trainers, who were caught in a storm of irrationality and horror, their bloodcurdling shrieks engraved into his mind. There was no escape for them, the pigs who sought to reduce him to a tool for a mere sport. He didn't regret destroying them.

Then, in a fleeting moment of consent, the stranger attacked.

Leapt into his mind.

The terrified scream could be heard all over the island.


(You know, I haven't seen a lot of fics where an eldritch abomination is a victim. Weird.)