Helix Arc: 7
The matches rolled by, hacking away at the confidence of every B Group trainer with each match. B Group's reputation didn't dissolve with the brief injection of A group aces and there was only so much sacrifice Aria could watch before falling into disgust. The fire canines didn't help ease her boredom. They occupied the tail of the couch like a set of mismatched furry slippers. Rolo alternated between grooming his paws and Lopo's coat while the houndour yawned away the pain medication administered to him. The lounge was skeletal, and with nothing to distract her, Aria's thoughts filled with the S.S. Surf, ambush, and Sebastian's failed release. She kept anxiety at bay by playing with a button sewed into the couch and pretending it held the universe together.
"Somebody's confident."
Aria flinched and pulled the button off. Azura Valenis stood in front of her.
"Is the competition so bad it's not even worth watching?" he continued.
"A real trainer doesn't have to know his opponents pokemon to win."
"And a real trainer knows what he's up against instead of relying on luck in an unwinnable fight."
Aria nonchalantly shoved the button into the cushion and swung her feet onto the floor as Azura crossed his arms over his chest.
"You can learn a lot about a trainer by the way they use their pokemon," Azura continued with a glance to the canines. "For instance, using your dogs as a foot warmer doesn't translate well on the battlefield. Some might interpret them as lazy and soft pawed."
Rolo folded his ears back and growled. Azura raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Aria merely smiled. She was willing to endure some trash talk for a little comfort.
"So, how did you get here?" she asked with a glance to the other trainers unaware of the infiltration.
"We're not allowed to leave the coliseum, not the lounge. I think you meant to ask: why is an A trainer in the B trainer lounge?"
"Can you blame me?"
"Heh, not really. I came to see how the new batch of trainers was doing."
The only reason a veteran ace would show himself amongst the weaker flock was because he wanted to get somewhere, and that somewhere was right in front of her. Flattery softened Aria's gaze.
"I'm sure they appreciate the gesture," she said.
"Do you?"
Aria's blushing silence pulled Azura's lips into a grin.
"Let me show you the depth of my appreciation," he said.
Aria tried not to stare at the fork in her hand that was worth as much as the prize money in her wallet. Instead, she used it to poke the remains of the most expensive chicken dinner she had ever eaten in her life. Sitting on the VIP balcony looking out across the city with a celebrity ace paying for her meal didn't feel like a simple gesture of appreciation. It didn't help that Azura was a handsome man despite certain curls to his personality. Aria couldn't remember the last time she went on a date. Vague memories of Sebastian crashing through a cocktail table came to mind. The scenery and growlithe gnawing on a poketreat at her feet were nice distractions from the thought. Lopo would have been a nice addition but risking pokemon blood on the upholstery was hardly appropriate.
"I watched your match today," Azura said while wiping his mouth with a twenty dollar napkin. "It was impressive."
He leaned back in his chair with a curious inquisition glittering in his eye.
"You have a unique style of battling. It's different than anything I've ever seen."
"I think it's pretty normal," she replied.
Azura scoffed.
"What?"
"It's nothing."
"You just laughed at me."
"I didn't laugh . . . alight, maybe I did find a little amusement in that."
"In what?"
"Your battle being "normal"."
"Was it really that bad?"
"Bad's not exactly the word I would use."
"Then how would you describe it?"
"I don't know if I should. Pokemon critiques often offend."
"I've got steel armor when it comes to that. Shoot."
"Well, from what I've seen-,"
And experienced
Aria pinched her eyes at Azura's mouth. They didn't move the way they were supposed to. She glanced down at Rolo. That was a passing thought, wasn't it?
"You have a very 'experienced' style," Azura explained. "Battling is a natural reflex for you and your pokemon, making almost every scenario imaginable no different than a walk in the grass. The trust between you and your party is so strong that commands become more of a hindrance than a help. It's almost like you understand one another on a level beyond other trainers, almost like you don't have to speak to communicate."
"There's a lot more to pokemon than giving commands. They can feel people's energy, be it positive or negative. Keeping them at my side at all hours of the day, rain or shine, makes it hard not to understand exactly how they think and feel. It's like mind reading only simpler. You just feel."
"Like you are one in the same being?"
"Yes and no. Rolo is still Rolo and he acts and thinks differently than me on a lot of things. His favorite toy is a stick, mine is a Frisbee. He likes hikes in the fall when the leaves cover the ground and I favor the summer when the breeze makes the light from the canopy ripple like water. It's more like our personality cogs fit so well together that when one moves so does the other."
Aria reached down and stroked the beige tuft of hair on the growlithe's head. Azura watched her with the intensity of a temple unknown trying to understand the mystery of its own existence.
"I saw your match today, too. I really enjoyed it," Aria picked up.
"Sorry it wasn't up to usual standards. But don't worry, it'll get more interesting later on."
". . . Oh."
"You disagree?"
"Sort of, to the first part. I thought it was better than a lot of the other matches, but I'm still new to this whole tournament thing. Sorry, I guess I get overzealous with anything pokemon related."
"Don't apologize. What made it better?"
"Your pokemon have a lot of flare when they battle."
"What do you mean?"
". . ."
"The last time you had something to say, you didn't hesitate to pull out all the stops . . . or the pokemon. Tell me."
"Well, your marowak, he doesn't move in excess. Everything he does is with a purpose. Such clean efficiency makes even the simplest of actions beautiful. And your gengar, he's more of a show off. He doesn't hesitation to amp things up with a little surprise but never lets the tease get strong enough to disrupt his attention. To transition between the two in the middle of a fight takes a certain finesse that many pokemon can't pull off. They get too focused on one battle and forget about the others. For solo based pokemon to work like packs or herds, it takes a lot of discipline and control. Having a fast paced battle also intensifies the suspense and makes the match that much more enjoyable. It kept me on my toes the whole time."
"You thought I would lose?"
"There's always a chance."
"So you weren't convinced I'd win. You must have seen flaws in my style."
". . . Maybe a few. Nobody's perfect."
"I beg to differ."
"Oh, come on. Like you've never made a mistake."
"Battling is an art, and mistakes don't happen in art, only adjustments."
"So I guess I'm an artist too."
"No, you just make mistakes."
"You just like to be an ass, don't you?"
"As much as you like to be a self-righteous preacher."
"You're no more of an artist than a hatchling smeargle!"
"Alright then, enlighten me. Then we'll talk."
Forget talking. Bite his head off.
The voice in Aria's head didn't sound like hers but it had good advice. The Ranger narrowed her eyes and settled in her chair.
"Alright, I suppose I'll give it a try," she snapped. "From what I've seen, you go into a match prepared to win, but if that win isn't in your pocket, you wouldn't step foot into the square. You have too much pride to lose and wouldn't care to waste your time for something that didn't have cash money at the end. When you fight, your plans are preset. There's no thinking, no heart, no motivation. It's dead unless a crowd puts life back into it. You don't speak many commands but your pokemon are far from self-sufficient. They are hard wired with your orders and can't think on their own. They win only because of your ability to predict the movements of your opponents. When taken out of the confidence and security of "the plan", they freeze and panic. Your biggest weakness is your logic. The potential of your pokemon are capped by their lack of free will and passion. They will never be able to raise the fight to the next level or win when the odds are against them. They grow accustomed to winning battles that aren't their own and grow weaker because of it. You and you're pokemon are anything but perfect."
Aria licked the embers away from her lips, checked her watch, and looked at the TV over the bar.
"Sorry, but I've got to get back to the lounge. I don't know about the VIPs but all of us B rated trainers are supposed to be back in the lounge before the last match is over."
She stood up with Rolo holding his chewy bone in his mouth better than a royal scepter.
"Good luck with your next piece of art. I just hope I get to be the one who snaps your brush in half."
Aria left the balcony and strode across the VIP lounge with enough heat to draw the attention of every man in the room. Azura was breathless against the ranger whose fire had sucked up all the oxygen in the room. Aria closed the VIP door with a bang but immediately lost her passion now that she was alone. She looked down to the growlithe at her heel.
"I think I've had enough excitement for one day," she said.
The drool staining the VIP carpet put a smile back on her face. She returned to the lounge and the last match ended soon after. The orientation staff reappeared, Aria withdrew Rolo, and the remnants of B group gathered around the podium.
"Congratulations on your victories everyone," the leader announced. "You made it through preliminaries and are now official competitors in the North White Fantasy Tournament. Things may start to get complicated from here on out so make sure you pay attention. The first item up: Matches will no longer be done individually. Trainers are to be assigned a partner."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the group. The brackets on the digital boards were replaced with trainer pairings. Several aces craned their necks to look and began pushing the ones in front of them with enthusiastic whispers. The leader corralled them back to attention.
"Now, don't worry. We'll give you a few minutes to check the pairings after I'm done so let me finish before you move: If you notice, the names are color coded. These colors indicate which group you'll be in. No, they're not permanent. They're organizational tools for when we split off into groups to meet your assigned partners. In a few minutes, several of our staff will come out with a colored banner. You will gather around the banner that is the same color as your name, and from there, the staff will lead you to a room where you can meet up with your partner. Yes, some of you will have partners from A Group. At your- please, don't touch the boards- at your meeting location, find your partner and check in at the desk. Both of you need to check in at the same time before you leave. There will be pairing boards in the lounge and the room you will transfer to. Once again . . ."
Aria's gut twisted into a spiral. Working with a partner made keeping secrets difficult. To be a picture on a trainer profile was one thing. To socialize with lies was another. Aria waited until the crowd around the digital board thinned before stepping up to it. Her name was the color of a tentacruel's helmet but it was hardly a comforting sight. This was a joke, right?
Azura Valenis was tagged to her name.
