A/N:
I'M ALIVE HI-
If you're reading this, I've done what I thought I wouldn't do, and (finally) mixed Mutual Killing Games and Pokemon. (Or the formats, at least.) I've introduced a little mechanic the Danganronpa fandom calls 'Free Time events'. Unfortunately, it was the only thing that would get me out of that writing block, so…
Don't kill me?
Also, many thanks to WereDragon EX and Amadeus Wolfang1011 for helping out with this chapter!
Now… bon appetit? (It's actually lunch time here so… hahahaha-)
Chapter 7
Signal
Lunch was a silent affair. The absence of three contestants, two of whom were in the medical wing, and the one who had been left in the morgue… well, the places set for them had been left empty, and it was, to Max, a grim reminder of what was to come.
At least Li Jun was still among them. Yeah, thank Arceus for small mercies. Probably.
"Hmm. Looks like I'll be the only one presiding over this afternoon's battles, then," was the casual statement from Samuel - much to the general uproar of the remaining combatants - as he carefully sliced into his Basculin fillet.
Come to think of it… He's right. Max mused, not spotting either Volok or Enoch at the table. While the black-haired teen was aware of the latter leaving midway through the battles earlier, just when had the blond teen left?
"If you're not going to eat, the food is going to be wasted."
Spinning around so sharply that his neck almost went crack, Max was startled to see the same person as before. Whiplash… ow. He hadn't even noticed when the other actually sat beside him...
The young man had hair of solid cobalt, was the realisation now that Max was able to look a little closer, and his left eye was of the same stunning shade. That eyepatch still concealed his right eye beneath the lock of cobalt, leaving only guesses as to just what it hid. Blindness, perhaps?
"Um, you are-?" The teen hoped it'd be enough to cue for an introduction, and thankfully, he wasn't disappointed. A lone cobalt eye widened as a soft "ah" of realisation was heard, before the other hastily apologised for the lack of manners.
"Many apologies; my name is Bryon, Bryon Christophe."
Encounter: Bryon Christophe!
Select:
[Talk] [Bag] [Pokemon] [Run]
Deciding to get the ball rolling, Max started the conversation. "So, why are you always commenting on my actions?"
"I'd say it's because you're quite the interesting individual." Bryon chuckled, but there was something about his smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - or eye, if one wanted to get technical. It wasn't picked up on by Max, however.
The teen cleared his throat awkwardly, making a subtle attempt to shift his chair slightly further away - an attempt that did not go unnoticed by the other, who did not - didn't want to? - comment. "Now that just sounded… wrong."
This guy is a stalker. Enough said.
"My sincere apologies." Oddly enough, the guy really did seem apologetic - he wasn't the first one, that was for sure. "It's just odd to find someone not involved in the sprawling feuds yet."
Max's brow furrowed. He didn't like the sound of this. "...feuds?"
"You didn't know?" was the question accompanied by yet another curious gaze. Bryon stayed silent for a little, before continuing. "I assumed you were staying solo, since you were around both sides?"
The teen sighed. "Do I even want to know?"
"If you want to avoid getting killed or dragged into the feud, then yes, probably." The cobalt-haired man informed, chuckling when his reply was a startled look reminiscent of a Stantler under headlights. "Just kidding. It's more of challenger-challenger animosity than anything, but you never know when someone might try to… thin out the competition."
Nodding slowly, Max opened his mouth to reply, but soon closed it again when he realised that he couldn't really say anything back. Bryon seemed to be able to take a hint, however, even an interpreted one, for he turned back to his meal with a small nod and a quiet "Good day".
Max let out a small sigh of relief. It's a good time as any to make my escape.
Select:
[Talk] [Bag] [Pokemon] [Run]
Max got away safely!
The next few minutes were passed in somewhat comfortable conditions, with the air punctuated every now and then by the idle chatter of the contenders. As usual, the food was good, and despite the total number being less than what it was yesterday, things were just about the same.
"Pardon me." The telltale creak of a chair garnered all attention, as every pair of eyes flickered towards the person who had just stood up.
Looking a tad uncomfortable, Cid quickly apologised. "I'm really sorry, but since I've finished my meal, I was thinking of getting some fresh air…"
"By all means, Cid, do go ahead." Samuel said gently. "We're not your prison guards." He then looked down the row for a few moments, seemingly searching for something. "If anyone else wishes to leave, please go ahead. Just be present at the field before the next battle starts." It wasn't a statement so much as it was an order.
A quick nod of acknowledgement, before the other teen was out the room, followed closely by his Electivire, who had apparently ditched the fighter he was assigned to. The doors weren't given a chance to close, for several others soon filed out of the room as well, some leaving behind half-emptied plates.
Looks like the lunch atmosphere got to some, huh?
Blaise too left the room, Lundstrom once again sweeping up the candle wax left in her wake. Thomas followed shortly after with a yawn, muttering something about needing a nap…
Well, Max supposed, he didn't really need to know that.
The last person to leave was Atlas, and he closed the door behind him, leaving just under half the number of people who had been seated there previously. How… daunting.
"...well, I guess that's that." Shrugging, Samuel once again returned his attention to his meal, though his gaze flickered occasionally to the remaining candidates.
It was unsettling, to say the least.
Forcefully wrenching his gaze away, Max turned to face his other side, where a young man with a head of silvery-grey hair and eyes that looked like aquamarine met his gaze.
"..."
"..."
"Would you perhaps like to chat?" was the question stated by both at the exact same time, after an indefinite awkward pause.
Well.
Encounter: Alister Little!
Select:
[Talk] [Bag] [Pokemon] [Run]
Clearing his throat, Max said, "Hi. Name's Max; Max Rogers."
"I'm aware," the pale haired teen responded evenly, turning slightly to better face Max. "I am Alister. Or Alister Lewis Little, if you would prefer that instead."
Max held up his hand, laughing nervously. How does he know who I am? "No, no. Alister is fine. Although, how-"
"How do I know your name?" Alister completed his sentence for him, a small smile forming on his lips. Max nodded. "I only keep my eyes and ears open. More so than most others. You would be surprised by all the information you could glean from the world whilst everybody is busy talking... if you only stay quiet and listen."
Huh. Creepy. Again.
"So. Did you also hear me speaking with Bryon, then?"
Max received a nod in answer.
"Do you know what he was talking about?" he asked curiously, inching a little closer to Alister. "About the feuds, I mean."
The pale haired boy frowned a little, knitting his brows together in thought. Max waited patiently. He was done with his food anyway.
"How much do you know about the League and the Cabal?" Alister asked quietly, his gaze hinting at Max to lower his volume as well. It wouldn't do for their conversation to be overheard.
"The League and the what?"
The pale-haired teen blinked. "...the rebels."
Max thought about it for a few moments. "I don't know much, really. Neither side has disturbed the forest yet, so…"
"It's said that the rebels are aiming for control over the regions by messing with the tournaments," Alister nodded slightly. "Infiltration, blackmail, gatecrashing… You name it, it's probably been thought of."
"Damn," Max muttered under his breath. "I didn't even have a clue that all this was happening under my nose."
"You never did get involved with anyone overmuch," Alister pointed out. "It's the safest thing to do, in my opinion. Something Mr. Fletcher must apparently learn to do."
I'm with you on that one, buddy.
"Are you ready for the next set of battles this afternoon?" Alister asked, eyeing him curiously. Max sighed.
"As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. How ready can you be for what could quite possibly be the last thing you ever do?"
A curtain of silence fell between the two contestants as they recalled the events of the previous battles. One among their number was already dead. It was unsettling, to say the least, knowing you could end up the same way.
"You make a good point," Alister said finally as he rose from his seat and faced Max fully. "It has been a pleasure conversing with you, Max Rogers. I wish you all the luck in the trials ahead. Perhaps we can talk some more later, if we both make it out."
Yeah. If. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
"Best of luck to you too, Alister." Max quietly stated to the retreating teen's back, who smiled over his shoulder at him before making his way out of the room.
With a sigh, the teen pushed his empty plate away. Should he look for another conversation partner…?
Nah, maybe not.
Leaning backwards into his chair, the teen stretched a little, hearing a few pops as he did so, followed by a heavy crash as his chair slipped, causing him to land on the floor heavily.
"Need a hand?"
Encounter: LeAnna Pierce!
Select:
[Talk] [Bag] [Pokemon] [Run]
Without waiting, the black-haired teen was pulled to his feet.
"So-" Max begun, only to get cut off almost immediately.
"There's no need for thanks. Farewell." Her piece having been said, the maroon-haired lady walked off, followed closely by a Fennekin that turned her nose up at him.
Wow. Rude much?
Huffing quietly, the teen sat back down in his seat, only to practically jump out of it after hearing the resultant chuckle.
"She's just touchy like that, don't worry your little head about it."
Encounter: Chikae. K!
Select:
[Talk] [Bag] [Pokemon] [Run]
Max blinked. For some reason, she looked pretty familiar… Ah. "In the first match?"
"...?" She looked confused, not that he could blame her. It was kind of difficult to catch the train of thought of another, especially without any given context whatsoever.
Yeah, it was his fault. Good job, Max. Way to converse with people. Full marks!
"That Steelix was your partner, wasn't he?" The black-haired teen clarified; really, he could have kicked himself.
The expression on Chikae's face cleared up somewhat, before she flashed him a bright smile and a thumbs-up. "Stahl is my partner, yeah. Pretty cool match, wasn't it?"
"Big doo-doo head." was the only statement needed, and perhaps it was a good thing, for Max couldn't stop his laughter afterward. Heck, just containing it to an acceptable volume was difficult enough.
Containing it to a volume such that Miles couldn't hear it, though, was a challenge of the greatest supremacy.
"Yeah, I like those cutesy little insults. They tend to throw people off more than actual burns sometimes, especially if they're coming from someone like lil' me, no?" Chikae smirked, twirling a lock of her braided white hair. Come to think of it, there was somebody else that Max had seen so far with white hair, but...
Hazel eyes travelled down the long table, and indeed, the teen caught sight of a flash of white next to solid black - somehow, impossibly, Miles was seated next to a guy.
Wait, no. Wrong person.
Rather, the skirt-chaser he had seen around was seated next to Miles, and out of the range of any female in a two-chair radius. He was making small talk with the host, all the while buttering a potato.
"Looking at Saber, huh? Didn't know he was your type."
Max spluttered - he seemed to be doing that very often, come to think about it. And especially around the ladies too. What was up with ladies and their incorrect assumptions?! "No, no; most definitely not - it's just… his hair colour…Yours...um..."
"Hm?" Chikae puffed a stray lock of hair that had fallen over her brown eyes to one side. "What about it?"
"It looks similar…" I'm probably wrong. "Kind of?"
She crossed her arms with another smile. "I should hope so."
His confusion must have been obvious, but Chikae simply kept smiling, before playing with another lock of hair. What reason could there have been for this similarity… they couldn't have just both dyed their hair, could it?
Nah, too simple.
"Are you… his fan?" Shit, he hadn't meant for it to come out. Max quickly covered his mouth with a hand, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment.
That didn't stop her from doing a spit take, before putting one hand to her mouth and laughing. "His fan?! Oh please, the day Saber ever gets a girl to fall head-over-heels for him, I'll change my name to Lancer!"
Then? Why the similarity, if you're not a fan? The teen was close to facepalming at his incompetency to guess. Was he overthinking it, or underthinking it - if that even was a thing? Or was it just plain coincidence, which so loved to mess with him?
No, he hadn't forgotten the incident which nearly took off his head.
"So…" Max ventured again, not harbouring much hope, "Did you both just accidentally grab the same brand and colour of hair dye at the store?"
Chikae made a face at him. "Yeah, and we both also coincidentally chose the same fashion sense to come here in. Although, to be honest, that really was a coincidence, unless Saber found out what I was gonna wear in advance and dressed up just to annoy me."
He blinked. "Was that… sarcasm?" Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was.
"The first part was, yeah."
"So… it wasn't coincidence?" Okay, now he was really getting confused. Max shook his head, trying to ignore the fact that all logic was starting to make no sense, and that the world wasn't following the laws of physics… "Should I even be understanding this?"
Chikae looked at him, a smirk on her face. "I would have thought your parents had taught you all about the Delibirds and the Combees by now."
"Yeah, well, I don't-" The teen was rudely interrupted by a sudden bout of coughing that most definitely did not sound normal. Unless, of course, normal coughs sounded like people about die, and with the inclusion of spitting out blood.
The maroon-haired Anna from earlier had already passed out, with the person Max recognised to be the Medicham's trainer still violently coughing out blood. Looking around, there were at least three more people with blood splatters on their plates, and even he himself was beginning to feel a little queasy.
"Cora!" was the shout as Samuel all but ran over to the named person in question, who was simply laughing. "Arceus-dammit, I told you not to pull a stunt like this!"
She simply tossed her head back and let out yet another peal of laughter, standing up and making her way out of the dining hall. "Since I've already killed one, might as well do a clean job, no?"
With a "tsk" of obvious disapproval, Samuel glanced around the room, taking in the situation. "Is anyone relatively unaffected by the poison? I will need those who can move around to split into two groups - one to chase down those who have left, and the other to get the antidote from the infirmary." What he didn't mention was that if Volok had raided the room before he left, there would be no hope for those who had taken too large a dose.
After all, the blond Elite has recognised the poison; not as one of Cora's specialities, but rather, one of Volok's. Just how Cora of all people had gotten her hands on it he wouldn't understand, and though he hazarded a guess, the lives of the contenders were of greater importance.
He could deal with Cora later.
"I'll go look for those who have left." Bryon took off almost immediately. With a shrug, Saber followed after a heartbeat, Chikae too taking off immediately after.
Miles sighed. "And why would they think of running off without sending extra Pokemon to help, I wonder…" The announcer was clearly unhappy about the duty allocation, but clapped his hands, signalling for his Magnemite to chase after the unlikely trio. "I'll go look for the antidote, then." Fuchsia eyes met hazel ones, before the black-haired man grinned. "Oh, and Maxie-boy is coming with me."
Why. Just- why.
The teen didn't quite expect it, but Miles most definitely had a deceivingly strong grip. He was dragged out of the hall, fighting to keep his balance as Miles dragged him down a few hallways, past doors that looked all the same.
"Listen, Max." It was the first time he had ever heard the older man sound serious, and he wasn't including the battle with Anton on that. "The antidote is likely to be in a black bottle with a red stopper. Don't question the colour scheme-"
"Wouldn't that look more like a bottle of poison?" The teen couldn't help himself, and regretted it after the dirty glare sent his way by the announcer.
"I said listen. That should be the only bottle in the medical wing. If it's not there, head back to the dining hall immediately and inform Samuel. Get it?"
Max nodded, but then realised something. "What about-"
"I'm going to search the other medical wing." Miles said blandly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "What did you expect?"
"...good point." The black-haired teen conceded, before dashing off for the infirmary. The lives of who knows how many people were riding on this, and Max wasn't about to fail.
Miles waited until the teen had left, before leisurely walking up the Champion's Tower. Other medical wing indeed. "If he actually finds the bottle, well, Volok wasn't as careful as he should have been," the announcer mused, even as the doors to the top floor swung open with a blast of icy air.
When the doors swung open, the first thing that greeted him was the strong, overpowering stench of anaesthesia. That, and the overly sterile smell of bleach. But Max was thankful for it even so, for in a way, it almost completely covered the metallic tang in the air, and even though he could taste the red iron in his mouth, the teen ignored it and pressed forward.
The medical room was, contrary to conventional expectations, not white. It was coloured in hues of soft blue - which wasn't really much better. A quick glance around showed plenty of basic medical supplies just lying around on cabinets, with two out of twelve beds occupied, but somehow, not a single bottle like the one Miles had described in sight.
...what now? The teen could feel the panic rising, but squashed it down before cautiously stepping further into the room, beginning to methodically search through the piles of bandages, medical tape and gauze on the drawers. The contents inside the drawers proved to be of no help either, with many unlabelled packets of pills, but nothing even remotely resembling the bottle that Miles had mentioned.
Time was running out, Max knew. He didn't know how, but his instinct told him that he needed to hurry. Even now, he felt embers starting to ignite in his blood, searing heat slowly starting to cripple his ability to move. I must have gotten poisoned as well… shit, if I don't make it back, then what?!
Forcing the thought from his mind, the teen hurriedly continued searching, when-
"You as well?" A slight pause, before the other person spoke again. "Wait, no… it's everyone, isn't it? Everyone was - sorry, is - poisoned."
Max's throat went dry at the revelation. He was poisoned, but surely it was just him and the few others? "How… how can you be so certain?"
"..."
Silence.
"Fine, be that way." Max carefully made his way over to where the voice originated from. He had a feeling that he should recognise the voice, but he didn't, leaving him only one option as to how to find out who the other person was. "I'm coming over."
"Be my guest." was the dry reply, and as Max reached the other end of the room, he saw someone seated on one of the leather couches - in fact, the last person that he'd expected to see.
Titian-coloured hair was the first thing that greeted him.
"I would stand to greet you, but it'll take a little while longer before I can move, I'm afraid." Atlas laughed quietly, but the expression on his face was anything but amused. The pain that was seemingly etched into the other's face was coloured with something unidentifiable, but didn't seem to be aimed at Max in particular. "You're here for the antidote, are you not?"
"Yeah." The teen replied, only to barely catch a bottle that had been tossed to him - a black bottle with a stopper of red crystal. A glance told him that even that simple toss had taken a lot out of the older man, whose arm now hung limp from his side. Was the poison really that dangerous?
Then again, considering at the fire that was still eating away at his ability to move, it probably was.
Wait… What's going on here?
Encounter: Atlas Cross!
Select:
[Talk] [Bag] [Pokemon] [Run]
Max got awa-
"I… Really don't think we have time for a conversation right now," the teen said awkwardly, unsure if he was interrupting anything. To be fair, the scene was a little private.
Atlas sighed - a small exhale of air that was almost silent. "Yes," he agreed, "it would seem so."
Max nodded, thankful for the agreement; no doubt things would have been awkward otherwise. But why couldn't he shake off this uncomfortable feeling?
Unless...
"Take it."
To say that Max was surprised was most definitely not an understatement. His eyes narrowed in equal parts of suspicion and cautiousness. "How do I know you've not poisoned it?" Atlas seemed surprised - shocked even, but the teen forged on. "I only learnt about the existence of this bottle after Miles told me about it - and that was after Samuel told people to go to the infirmary, which was after people started coughing out blood. And if I remember right, you left the room way before that."
"..." The redheaded man had nothing to say in his defence. Anything that could have been said would only serve to rile up the boy, or to further compromise his position. Silence was the only answer that he could afford to give.
"So either you were the one who spiked the food and was somehow stupid enough to poison yourself, or you're hiding some secret. What, are you infiltrating the tournament to kill someone?"
Atlas sighed. "I should have thought that the fact that I am poisoned myself should be enough to disprove your first theory."
"Ever heard of constructing an alibi?" Max shot back, now well and truly infuriated.
"Ever thought that maybe I've been poisoned by Cora before?" Atlas shook his head. He would have facepalmed if he could, but even that was a stretch in his current condition. Almost as if its occupant had heard his thoughts, the Dusk Ball attached to his belt quivered ever so slightly, but the movement went unnoticed by both males.
The teen's grip on the bottle tightened. He couldn't quite tell where the fever burned any longer - it felt the same as the liquid rage flooding his veins. How dare he. "And why, in Arceus' name, would that ever happen?"
"Because…" Atlas hesitated, almost as if unwilling to speak. After a minute or two of silence, he turned away, hiding his expression from the only other conscious person in room. "Cora is… or rather, Cora was, my former-"
A loud thud punctuated the air, successfully cutting his sentence into half.
"-partner."
Well. It seems like there wasn't a need to continue his sorry 'tale' after all.
"Now… how do I get him up here?" The redhead asked seemingly no one in particular. After all, he was the only person left conscious in the room. He closed his eyes, before nodding once, almost as if he could hear something in the silence of the room, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of breathing. Taking in a deep breath, his hand reached down, fingers lightly brushing against a ball of vibrant blue. "It's all up to you now."
A brilliant flash of white signalled the release of the Pokemon from its Ultra Ball, before being replaced by the fiery shades of burning sunset.
Without a sound, the Rapidash lowered its head, prodding something on the teen's belt - something that had been shaking rather violently.
Yet another flash of white filled the room. This time, however, it was dispersed by a shower of sparks. "Wassup, Ponyboy? Why'd ya call Spark out?"
"Halt that thought right there; we're getting the antidote out." Helios huffed, picking the unconscious Max up by the scruff of his jacket and dropping him unceremoniously on the leather couch next to the redhead, who only smiled gratefully.
Laughing voraciously, the Rotom sped into the nearest piece of equipment he could find - a vacuum cleaner off to one side - and possessed it. Using his newly-acquired sucker, he inhaled the bottle, before spitting it out at Atlas, who just barely managed to catch it. Wrenching the stopper open, the redhead tipped a few pills into Max's mouth.
"I'm pretty sure that's an overdose." The Rapidash pointed out, to much cackling from the Rotom and a weak shrug from the redhead.
"Better safe than sorry." With his piece being said, Atlas flicked the bottle at the two Pokemon - catching it in his mouth, Helios made his way out of the room, followed closely by Spark. The redhead watched them leave, the faintest trace of an odd expression making its way to his face. "Think I should tell them that I let you poison me in order to figure out which one the right antidote was?"
The Dusk Ball still attached to his belt shook once more, this time more violently, almost as if its occupant was laughing. After all, its venom was significantly less dangerous than whatever the combatants had been poisoned with… or was it more dangerous?
He didn't know.
After all, Cora didn't use the same poison twice.
"So where are we off to, eh? Got a map hidden in that fire of yours, Ponyboy?"
"Will you stop calling me that before I short-circuit you with said fire?"
The Rotom laughed. "Two words for ya, mate: blow me!"
A controlled exhale told clearly of the Rapidash's patience that was quickly wearing thin. "Two words for you, 'mate': hell no."
"Over here, Spark!" was the call that echoed down the hallway. Recognising the voice, both Pokemon followed it accordingly back to Saber. "Is that the antidote?"
"Right in one, Sabertooth, my man!" The Rotom cackled, sending a little jolt of electricity to the Rapidash in a signal for the bottle to be handed over.
With a long-suffering sigh, Helios tossed the bottle over. Without waiting to see if it was caught, the Fire Horse Pokemon dashed away, back in the direction of the medical wing, leaving the obnoxiously-laughing Rotom behind with its Trainer.
"So, this thing is the antidote?" Saber questioned, holding the bottle up to the light. Being opaque, it wouldn't let him look at the contents, but the quiet rattling told the albino all he needed to know. "I guess I'll head back to Samuel first, then. You go on ahead?" This last was directed at Chikae, Bryon having split from their little group a while back.
Not bothering to wait for a reply, the male dashed away, leaving his female look alike behind.
"Yeah, sure, leave the lady behind. No worries." A slight laugh coloured her tone, as Chikae K. strolled off in a seemingly random direction. "We both know that I'll be perfectly alright, after all." Somehow, this last was said with nothing short of utter conviction, almost as if she was absolutely sure of what would happen next.
But it wasn't possible…?
The doors to the dining hall burst open with a loud slam, drawing all eyes and a highly audible sigh of relief from the older Elite. "Oh, for the love of Suicune…" Samuel sighed, before motioning for the white-haired playboy to distribute the antidote. "If anyone dies, Saber, there'll be more than just your head on the line."
The guy must really hate me, Saber mused, for his name to be so terrifyingly butchered by a tone so eerily similar to a snarl and - dare he say it? - a crackle of electricity. But dear Arceus, it wasn't the small cute spark that Brittany flared, oh no. If Brittany was a spark, Samuel was an entire thunderstorm.
Damn, he needed to watch his step.
It didn't take him very long to distribute the bottle that was, rather surprisingly, barely half full. Whether it would work or not, the teen had no idea, but honestly, it meant less competition if it didn't work. Which was always a good thing, if you didn't take into account the continued existence of the poisoner.
Life here at the Plateau really sucked sometimes.
Thankfully, it didn't take too long after that for the mess to be cleared up. Most of the people who had left the room prior were found, with an adamant Cora being dragged back and kept under the watchful eye of Ampere the Ampharos. She refused to reveal the contents of the poison, but was more than willing to make another batch to poison everyone yet again. Such a stubborn one, Saber sighed, hopefully she won't get another chance to pull any funny stunts.
Even if he was a playboy with no qualms in flipping skirts, he did treasure his life. After all, how would be be able to flip skirts if he were dead?
"The next match will be between numbers three and twenty."
Ah, shit, realisation hit the albino teen. I wasn't paying attention just now…
"Let the battle commence."
A new challenger has appeared!
The Death Cruzer, Verona Moore VS Bryon Christophe
Let the battle begin!
Within ten seconds of the signal to commence, frustration etched itself across Verona's visage, as she stared across the battlefield at her opponent, who, in defiance of the referee's call, remained immobile. "So, you gonna start anytime soon?! I haven't got all day, you know!"
"Oh, don't be so impatient, miss. At your leisure."
A quick glance survey of the terrain told Verona that her and Bryon's temporary partners did not quite share that sentiment, for Carol the Mamoswine had already charged forward, intent on goring the Electivire with her tusks, the teeth sharpened to sleek perfection as they glimmered in the afternoon sun. Verona cursed under her breath, knowing that her temporary partner Maximus' elemental affinity disadvantaged him in this matchup, but quickly tore her attention away from the sight, desiring to focus on more pertinent matters.
"Fine then, if you won't move, then I will!" Fingers tightened around the hilt of her blade, Verona gritted her teeth before she followed Carol's example, her feet shattering the silence with a series of echoing stomps on the hard terrain. Had she thought it unusual that Bryon made no attempt to dodge or otherwise evade, Verona quickly banished such from her mind, desiring to wrap up the battle as quickly as possible.
She would quickly regret that particular lapse in judgment, for mere milliseconds before her bloodthirsty blade could connect, the man sidestepped swiftly to his right, causing the kilij to cut nothing more than the space he once occupied. Verona turned her head in the direction to which her opponent had retreated…
…only to be met with the hard strike of a solid iron pommel against her right cheek.
Winded from the sudden blow, Verona staggered back slightly, making her easy pickings for Bryon's next blow, this one aimed at her midsection. Sensing the incoming attack, Verona kicked forward, deliberately causing herself to fall hard onto her back, but causing the slash from the claymore to pass harmlessly overhead.
Bryon stepped forward, looming over his downed opponent, his lips parsed slightly before he spoke. "Clumsy footwork, could see what you were going to do the minute you started. A real pity, you know, was hoping for a more dynamic opponent…" As the words escaped his being, he clasped both hands around the hilt of his sword, bringing the blade down with full force, his intent to vertically bisect the woman evident from his stance.
Reacting within a split second, Verona brought her own weapon up to bear, both blades singing in a resounding clash of polished steel, the claymore attempting to push downward, and the kilij making a defiant bid to stop that progress, its arc of metal defiantly pushing back again the other blade. Slightly frustrated at his opponent's counter, Bryon increased the force he currently exerted.
Such an effort did, however, make him blind to the swift kick that was delivered to his midsection, courtesy of Verona. Caught off-guard by the sudden hit, Bryon staggered backwards slightly, before his mental awareness, honed from years of combat training, kicked in. Realizing that his opponent could very well capitalize on this opponent, Bryon immediately swung down with his sword, directly over the spot Verona lay prone…
…or at least, where she had laid prone just a split second ago.
Bryon's eyes widened as his claymore struck nothing but dirt. No sooner did his sword impact the ground, however, did he feel a whoosh of wind to his right, his reflexive response keeping his opponent from cleaving his hands clean off. Following the initial clash of blades, the man quickly found himself on the defensive, as Verona struck hard and fast with a flurry of swipes from her weapon, each one knocking her opponent's frame backwards inch by steady inch.
The man gritted his teeth in frustration, realization crossing his features as one thing became certain in his mind. In his attempt to deny his opponent an opening, he had given her one regardless, and she was now gleefully using it to turn the tables on him. Thinking on his feet, Bryon dug his right heel into the hard ground, impeding any further attempts by Verona to knock his backwards and off-balance.
Verona chose that very moment to let her words fly. "You call this swordplay? So be it. A word of advice to you though, I play for keeps…"
Max awoke to the comforting feeling of warmth - a feeling he hadn't encountered in a long while. He rifled through his last memories as fast as he could, trying to bring to mind what happened in the last few moments before he collapsed.
Ah. That's right. Atlas had the bottle, he started a shouting match… and the poison.
Oh good lord, the poison.
Now looking at his surroundings, the black-haired teen recognised the blue walls of the infirmary - or medical wing, whatever it was called. He had more important things to think about right now, such as why he was on the couch, when he was absolutely certain that he collapsed on the floor.
And not to mention the obviously empty Dusk Ball on the floor where Max assumed he had been standing earlier.
A quick glance to his right told him that the Titian-haired man next to him was asleep. Atlas' face was slightly pale, but aside from that, no abnormalities were spotted. The teen frowned. It would be easy to just slip away and pretend nothing ever happened, but…
"Rapidash."
Well, his luck was just absolutely great, wasn't it? Max sighed, before deciding not to get off the couch. From the dark look that the Fire Horse Pokemon was giving him, the teen figured that it would be easier if he didn't move, and indeed, the horse seemed to relax a little.
Huh. First time I've ever seen a Pokemon so independent of its trainer.
"Hey," he began, by way of conversation, "I don't suppose you can tell me how the others are doing?"
Helios merely stared blankly, before tossing his mane in a little half-hearted gesture that really could mean anything.
"I thought so."
Guess I can't do anything, huh?
Samuel sighed. "Numbers six and twelve, please."
"Fine by me."
Words that were unnecessary should never be used. A wastage, that was what it was. Her alice blue eyes narrowed, thick maroon plait shifting only slightly as she tossed the bright red Pokeball upward. A blinding flare of white, before out of the blue, she felt the temperature rise - or had a heat wave settled in?
"Arcanine."
The flash of fire did not go unnoticed by Saber, who only chuckled dryly. "Now, I would very much like to battle, but as you can see, I'm facing a little… issue here."
Within the albino's hands were the two halves of a Pokeball, but there was no Pokemon to be seen.
"...?"
Saber shrugged. "He bailed on me, yowling something but refusing to leave Anton's bedside."
"Does that mean you forfeit?" Samuel questioned, only to raise an eyebrow when something rang across the field. It was a horrible sounding mess of notes, and earned cringes from more than one person - and rightfully so, due to how horrible it was.
The offended looks shot at the blond Elite simply caused him to shrug. "What? It was the first and only time I allowed Ampere to touch the piano." Said Ampharos facepalmed, but did nothing else except to wave a stubby paw in mock-annoyance.
Pulling out a PokeG Plus, he flipped the screen, watching on with what seemed like fond exasperation as a holographic screen containing a message popped up. "...hey, Miles?" He questioned, even as an uncomfortable air began settling down in the area. "Just how badly would the ratings be affected if Cyrille here battles without a partner?"
"Hmm…" The fuchsia-eyed announcer grinned, before laughing conspiratorially. "Contrary to that, there'd probably be an increase in ratings. But it'd be quite unfair, no?"
Shoving his left hand into the pocket of his trench coat, Samuel's expression darkened just a little. The crackle of electricity was heard as Ampere placed a stubby paw inside that same pocket, before vanishing in a flash of red light. In the next moment, a blue and yellow blur flew straight for Saber. It was testament to the albino's quick reflexes that he managed to catch the Quick Ball without it smashing into his face, but the resulting electricity did nothing more than to earn a small flinch.
"Is this-?" Saber began to ask, but never had the chance to finish his question.
Shing!
The blade of the machete now pointed right at him - barely an inch away from his throat - couldn't have felt colder than the weight of that dark brown gaze, courtesy of one Samuel Troy. Since when had he gotten over here, and just how fast had he moved? The albino only smiled, covering up most excellently the slight stiffening that ran its course through his body. "I would assume that this isn't out of the kindness of your heart."
"Of course not." It came out lower than expected. Ignoring the amused commentary from Miles, the Elite pushed his blade forward a little more. "Harm either one of them, and rules be damned - your head will roll." This last statement was quiet, so quiet that only both of them heard it. Saber knew what he was getting at, Samuel knew, and with one last glare to prove a point, the Elite returned his machete to its former location, before heading back to his original position, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the small crackles of electricity.
He regretted his choice already.
Father - please. Please lend Ampere to Saber, just for this one match.
Samuel sighed. Honestly, the things he did for his daughter…
A new challenger has appeared!
Saber Cyrille VS The Hellstorm, LeAnna Pierce
Let the battle begin!
Within the fraction of a second, both the Arcanine and the Ampharos met on the field, the fire-type having used Extreme Speed to close the distance in a matter of moments. A Heat Wave flared, even as Yeager let fly a Close Combat almost immediately after.
I won't let you have any time to rest.
Ampere didn't even flinch at the burning wind, choosing instead to meet the Close Combat blows head on with a glowing Thunder wrapped around a paw. This one punch didn't prevent her from taking damage, but a small smile reached her face nonetheless. "You're a bit too rash, aren't you?"
"Why you-!" The Arcanine growled as minor electric shocks ran through his body, causing him to convulse a little. Shit, I forgot about Static. Shaking it off, the Legendary Pokemon leapt at his opponent once more-
Only to have to bound back as a shower of knives flew in the general direction of their battle.
Infuriated, Yeager let loose a loud roar at his 'partner', that girl with maroon hair. What was she thinking, honestly?
"Really, that one has no respect at all." Ampere shrugged lightly, having jumped backwards a short step in order to avoid the stray knives. "How rude," was the comment as she daintily kicked at a knife. "But these seem to be of pretty good quality."
"Focus. Please." If he could, Yeager would have rolled his eyes. Darting in close in a matter of seconds, the Arcanine charged up Dragon Pulse, before letting the condensed energy fly.
"Oh, but I am." Ampere dodged with what seemed to be absurd ease, which was really only redirecting his blast with yet another Discharge-coated paw in the opposite direction of her dodge. "I do hope you're ready."
Feeling metal beneath his paw pads, the Arcanine's eyes widened just a moment before realisation - and a blast of electricity - ran through him.
Brushing the dust off her paw from where she had slammed Thunder onto the metal knives so conveniently flung their way, Ampere hopped out of the arena with a broad smile. "Well, that's that."
"Oh, come on…" Saber groaned, having to dodge yet another quick flurry of punches. After the initial fifty-or-so knives flung at his face by LeAnna in one shot by swinging that red wrap dress of hers - which he only barely dodged, thank you very much - he now had to deal with wires and hand-to-hand combat, forcing him to stay on his toes for practically the entire duration. Keeping most of his weight on his front leg, Saber knocked away another punch with an unprotected forearm, wincing at the contact, but it bought him enough time to bring his szabla forward. The curved blade flashed at the same time he felt a blast of static from the other side of the field, and while it wasn't really as meant for stabbing as a rapier would be, it was fine.
Injuring her wasn't his motive anyway.
A twist and a hard pull made quick work of the wires hooked onto her gloves - or rather, that was what was supposed to happen. Instead, the curve of his blade snagged the wires and forced them to bend, and in the precious seconds that it took them to snap, LeAnna had already landed a few more good punches on him. "Man, if you're like towards all the guys… you must be quite the terrifying lady," he covered up his wince with a smile and a laugh.
Her alice blue eyes glinted with what seemed to be amusement. She hadn't been fooled. Slamming another palm forward, she expected him to make another dart backward in order to avoid the blow. At such close range, she had the upper hand, after all.
But he didn't.
Leaning in forward, Saber twisted to avoid her palm, and grabbing her opposite shoulder - at the same time cutting off her next attack before it could begin - he used her own momentum to swing himself behind her. The blade came whistling through the air, and she jabbed both elbows backward in order to give herself space to maneuver out of his trap, yet it wasn't enough.
As the albino was flung back, his szabla moved back with him, the cold metal coming to rest exactly on her collarbone. "Sorry, but I do believe we're done here."
"And the match goes to Saber Cyrille!" was the shout from Miles, as LeAnna forced Saber's blade away from her neck. Without a second glance, she was gone from the field.
Geez. What's her problem?
Characters:
Max Rogers and Butterfree (Butterfree) - blazelight790
Alister Little and Carol (Mamoswine) - Heir of Heart, formerly known as Arcana of the True Self
LeAnna Pierce and ? (Fennekin) - Kuro Shikaku
Chikae K. and Stahl (Steelix) - SDproductions
Atlas Cross and Helios (Rapidash) - CrimsonSkyTamer
Verona Moore and Break-Neck (Pangoro) - WereDragon EX
Saber Cyrille and Spark (Rotom) - SDproductions
A/N:
Hardcore. This chapter was just too hardcore for me.
The battle between Verona and Bryon was written by none other than WereDragon EX, so please, everyone go thank him - seriously, without his aid, I probably wouldn't have finished this chapter. The interactions between Maxie-boy and Alister was written by Amadeus, so that's another person to thank here, haha.
Credits aside, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I know I sure did, but I also do know that my brain is on the verge of meltdown, lol.
Also, I ran out of chapters in the storeroom a long time ago. Just an FYI.
This chapter will be updated with the full Verona/Bryon match when it's out.
Until next time, ciao! (O u O)/
Next time on Crossroads: Victory