It's only when I start proofing pieces with a fine toothed comb that I start noticing the patterns and repeated details in them. When I write, I often try to do so with a guided stream of consciousness. I'll have a basic outline created (Characters involved. Current location. Encounter/problem(s) at hand. Initial iteration for resolution.) akin to a framework, but the rest of the building and finer details don't get filled in until I start chipping away at it. I also use some of my writing as a pseudo-outlet for things I'm going through, or things I want to really consider, viewed through the lens of a third party (or however close they can get, being creations of my own mind).
Sometimes I wonder what my writing says about me at that point in time.
Ah, English Lit. classes were both the best and worst. 'No, just because the curtains are blue doesn't mean there's something special behind them. I just thought it would go great with the color scheme of the rest of the room.'
Almost a month and a half into their journeys, the octet of novice Trainers were progressing smoothly. Aside from Izumi and Adam who had managed to catch two grass and water types respectively, everybody else was content with their smattering of various types. Sentret and rattata caught on the roads into Violet, hoppip and oddish from the areas around Azalea, and Jasmine had managed to get lucky and found a whismur.
A bit of a shame, how quickly the whismur would be traded away. With Goldenrod only a few days ahead, everybody was looking for pokémon to train up to a minor level before trying to find willing traders on the GTS. He'd done his best to tell them to make sure their fresh pokémon understood what was happening, but other than his fellow Unovan Kurt (the novice glaceon trainer), the lessons hadn't really stuck. An unfortunate affair, but with younger trainers it was to be expected.
To that end, the sixteen trainers had all commandeered a section of the fields for their own use. Quick Attacks, Tackles, Scratches, even a few attempts of Sand-Attacks from the lone pidgey and spearow that their respective trainers planned on keeping.
Off to side, Morgan and Umbral were guiding the eevees in the usage of swift. That all of them were able to manage the move with varying amounts of success was a bit of a surprise; normally it was to be expected that at this stage at least two wouldn't be able to generate even a single star, but someone somewhere was doing a magnificent job.
"Johto's going to absolutely love this." Mark Smith. A fellow Unovan three years his senior and incidentally a member of the crew who had filmed his snippet when he was part of the Battle Subway. "They haven't had a proper shake up in tactics since the emergence of ally-targeted Drain Punch a few years back."
"Bit sorry for the kids though," Alex admitted. "Between Falkner and Bugsy, their future gym battles are going to be significantly more difficult than their peers."
"That just means they'll be more prepared for their sixth badge and above." Mark nodded sagely.
If, went the unspoken word. The oft touted year long journey still persisted throughout the years, but it was more the selling point to would-be-Trainers. In reality it took the average trainer just shy of twenty months before they acquired all their badges. For the goal of at least one member of the newest generation to qualify for the Silver Conference, let alone Top 16, they would need an extraordinary spirit to make it.
Alex let the teaching go on for several more minutes before he stepped over. With two claps, he gathered the attention of the eevees. "Alright, kids, time for dodgeball! Odds versus evens!" As much as he hated to disturb the peace, there was truth to Mark's words. Let alone the change in divisions and the hefty qualifications to enter the Master's tier, ever since the gradual increase in age requirements for Trainers, strategies the world over had slowly been stagnating. The Champions for each region had gone uncontested for almost a decade, and the amount of candidates for even the Elite 4 roles had barely changed. Progress needed to be made somewhere, and if the job fell to the eight kids he was to instruct, then so be it.
"Actually, nix that. All eight of you against Morgan." The vaporeon warbled in confusion at that, glancing over at his students. "Anybody that lands one true hit, I'll give you some of my treats for the rest of the week. If you get tagged three times you're out." He grinned. "And don't try and be sneaky. Umbral's going to be keeping an eye out."
The kids might not know how to do things moving forward, but their pokémon could. It would be up to the both of them to figure out how to make use of everything they had.
/ - /
Celèste surged forward, a frost covered paw barely passing over her shoulder. Whispers of flame jabbed out twice before an explosion of rime forced her to leap back. She crouched down as she landed, springing to the left before cutting back in towards the right. A collection of rubble sharply jutted up an instant before she entered melee range, and a shower of glacial boulders forced her once more onto the retreat.
Teardrop's prowess had increased significantly since her assistance to Beira and the ninetail's subsequent return. A howling snowstorm that ate away at her energy, the fires that surrounded her body had to be carefully managed. Let them linger too long and she would become consumed by her own creation. Let the cold soothe her burning muscles too much and one of Teardrop's numerous blows would render her unconscious.
It was a delicate balance, one she had more than enough practice in. It was still enough of a distraction that she couldn't simply bull rush her way through as normal, but that was more a celebration of Teardrop's abilities than an admonishment of her failures. As yet another salvo of ice chunks flew towards her, she gathered aura in her paws. Two tiny bursts shattered the first boulder, the second appropriated and used to knock the third aside. Another flare of aura increased her momentum and the shield-now-projectile went sailing through the air.
Celèste leapt up as she once again approached, fire trailing behind her outstretched foot as she spun out of a pseudo-somersault. Perhaps if this wasn't the first match they'd had in months it wouldn't have landed, but against Teardrop's recent level of opponents the beartic's expectations had fallen dramatically.
She twisted her body sideways as the hit connected, directing all her excess energy through an open paw and letting it explode outward in a roar of flame. Her aura tails tingled as the winds abated, their conductor interrupted by the bone burning strike.
A single step forward.
To strike with club or fist?
Another.
Launcher or grounder?
At last Teardrop came into sight, soul-blue flames lapping at the greater part of his left paw. With each subsequent step the ground around them trembled, tiny chunks of concrete infused with her essence viciously protruding upwards. A lesson Teardrop had forgotten, and repeated instruction had failed to remind. Not for the last time, spotted footprints of dark red marked the beartic's path as he chased after her, energies of all types dancing across his fur.
Internally, Celèste sighed. Not with disappointment, but regret. To battle as they did- she and her kin, one needed to constantly have those types of battles. If one were to be subjected to the constrictive rules of the league, it would slowly warp one's mindset until that was how they reacted to all situations.
She let the call and response occur two more times before her aura surged, the latent energy she had been building up freely given to the furnace of battle. The report of exploding energy sounded out repeatedly as she danced around her dazed opponent.
Dark Pulse into Sludge Bomb. Discharge into Flame Burst. Flash Cannon into Aura Sphere.
A crescent Vacuum Wave, one of the few projectiles she could still launch in one of its original forms, bowled Teardrop over. In an instant she rushed in, aura staff completed just as she coiled her hand back. Energy flushed through her legs as she glided across the ground, stabs and unenhanced strikes keeping Teardrop midair as she pulled more and more upon her Soul. With one final skyward strike, she released all of her energy in an explosive Stored Power, for all intents and purposes the strike appearing like Eruption.
She maintained the pose for a few moments, ignoring the meaty thud as Teardrop crashed down. Her kin were too frail to survive a hit like this, and testing her strength on imaginary foes failed to grant the same sort of satisfaction as this. Were she a decade younger, she would have been profusely apologies to the beartic the moment he landed. Now?
She prodded his side, imparting a small amount of healing energy as she did so. "Up."
Teardrop moaned.
With a roll of her eyes, she moved over all the same, laying down so that if any observers were to look at them (once the lingering snow storm finally abated) they would think they had called a break rather than one side being utterly demolished.
Her muscles ached in a pleasant way. Morgan and Umbral gave her the challenge of having to focus on speed, and her Love alongside the rest of the team forced her to have a strong spatial awareness. To be able to slug it out with someone- Deus didn't count, a result of his gooey, impact absorbent body- was something she only got to experience when her Trainer's friends were around.
"You're a monster as always," Teardrop gasped out.
"Mhm. And you're disappointing." She flipped onto her hands, straddling Teardrop's stomach and placing her paws on his chest. Muscular burns on his left paw, heavy bruising all over his torso. The wounds on his feet were still oozing and the gashes on the back of his legs- attempts to bodily slow him down- had frozen over, but in the ensuing deluge of Aura they'd been reopened. "You're also a lovely piece of meat, you know that?" She closed her eyes and began directing healing energy through his body, quietly guiding his breathing towards a meditative trance.
"I'll try not to tell Teitei you said that," he murmured, moving his injured arm so she could work on it more easily.
"If it helps, I'm sure she'll repay me everything I did to you." She moved off him as he rolled over, paws lingering only a moment to help the criss-crossed trio of scratches on his legs heal. "Approaching her's a different story. She still able to keep up a continuous Flame Charge like I taught her?"
"It's been a while since she had a reason to, but it shouldn't take her long."
"Yes, exactly like the more subtle aspects of Bulldoze, no doubt."
Teardrop grumbled into the ground as she finished up her ministrations: a prolonged, full body pulse of energy to soothe the muscles.
She canted her head, raising a brow as she had often seen June do. "No doubt you'll have the finer details down when we next spar?"
"Yes, Master."
/ - /
When Umbral had first introduced him to the hidden world of Ghosts, he'd refused to believe it. The knowledge that the entire genus- the ones that Truly Were- adhered to their own set of cultural norms beyond the standards commonly seen within the wilds- that the ones That Knew and lived within the realm of the living were few in number was a blessing, but to be aware that beings as big as apartment complexes could one day slip through the barriers was terrifying.
That Umbral was to one day become one such as them, The Ancients, weighed heavily on his mind.
Another handful of Ghosts flew away as Umbral continued talking. Under the light of the full moon, she informed those still willing to listen what they stood to gain if they participated in the Ritual.
Little more than senseless bloodshed, that's what it was. To strip away all their physical protections and lay their Spirits bare; every strike dealt to each other in that state would steal away energy. A Dream Eater that would consume until not even an ember of the victim remained.
He hated it.
But it was what she needed.
The final step towards her evolution required essence equal to hundreds of beings; memories and emotions that carried their phantasmal weight in metaphysical gold. The nightmares he offered her sustained her existence and added handfuls towards her evolution, but it could not compare to what devouring another Ghost could do.
Another group of Ghosts left, their faces contorted into terrified expressions. He could not fault them. Consumption meant being swallowed whole. It meant being stuck in an eternal state of suffering until every drop was burned away and given to your captor. It meant slowly sinking into a bottomless abyss, watching as the light of the sun faded away.
And he enabled this.
Alex held back a scoff. The Ghosts of Len Town were aware of his presence, yes, but they ignored him in favor of the offer before them. Umbral was a True Ghost who had wandered the Spirit Realm for centuries. Her physical age was less than 80 years, but under his guidance the full strength of her Spirit could be displayed.
This was a robbery.
Umbral turned to glance at him, absolutely nothing betraying what she felt. With a single nod, he pushed off the tree and began walking away. The Feast would begin soon. Over the coming days, her behavior would change dramatically as she worked to subdue the Consumed. Perhaps one moment she might be rubbing into him like a house 'mon. The next, slinging spells at him at some mis-remembered slight.
And once it was all over? When every Soul was locked away in chains so tight they were indistinguishable from each other?
Only then would she press her forehead against his.
"I am here. I am Me."