*~*The Felicities and Fallacies of Pokémon Training*~*
Chapter Fourth: Persuasion
Written by The Duke of Briarcliffe
*~*
"Half the world is composed of idiots, the other half of people clever enough to take indecent advantage of them." —Walter Kerr
*~*
The night was as clear as the day. A cool breeze that started from the heavens swept across the landscapes, weaving in between the apartment buildings and causing the flimsy trees to sway, as if praising to some unknown deity. The billowing clouds seemed to form a halo around the large, full moon. Around the glowing moon was perfect darkness, a serene indigo. The moonbeams seemed to make everything sparkle with magical moon-dust as it kissed the surfaces. The mini suns twinkled.
The green grass crunched as it gave way to Nasturtium's weight while she walked along the flower garden. A species of the climbing morning glory, the moonflower, craned its neck to the moon, receiving what little light it could. The heavy aroma of English roses tickled her nose as she wandered deeper. She was expecting someone.
When she approached the clearing—a neat thicket in between a cylindrical rhododendron bush—she found that he was there, waiting for her as if he knew that she was coming. His head was to the sky, his bright red eyes gleaming.
Excitement flooded through her body. She was just so happy to see him after they'd been separated as they were. She rushed over to him, crystalline tears forming in the ducts. "Chico!" she cried.
"Chica! Chicory, cha-cha," he murmured in reply as he advanced towards her. They nuzzled their tiny noses and brushed up against one another, in the Chikorita fashion.
"Chikorita?" he asked.
She looked down to the ground and sniffed. "Rita chi ca," she spat out as she stamped her pointy foot on the soft ground. "Cha, chica!" She extended her budded vines, which met his halfway, and clasped him.
He agreed. "Chica, cha-cha!" he happily said. And, their vines intertwined, they walked out of the thicket and through the rest of the flower garden.
There were other pokémon up and about. A calmed Hoot-Hoot hooted off in the distance, a solemn call that made a steady rhythm. The frenzied Rattata scurried about; the process of begging and scavenging was a never-ending one. And other enamored pokémon were with their sweethearts, enjoying the tranquil bliss for as long as they could.
Along the way while Nasturtium and Jonquil were walking, Jonquil gathered a cluster of holly and adorned upon his sweethearts head a crown of compact berries. She smiled sweetly as she bore the weight of the gift. The night was starting to dissipate and she knew that, although she hated him, she was obligated to be there for her trainer.
She stepped aside; "Chikorita," she said. "Re, chi-cha." She then stepped forward, "Cha?" Her eyes were big, hopeful orbs of violet.
"Cha," was his reply. He came closer to her and embraced her as best as he could. They stayed in that position for a long while, neither wanting to pull away. But one of them had to be strong, or else they would never part. "Chikorita!" Nasturtium cried, fat tears welling in her eyes, blurring her superb vision. She averted her stance and, blinking out the tears, dashed out of the flower garden, leaving Jonquil there all alone. "Chico!" he called after her. She was already at the park's entrance.
*~*
There was a distinct click on the hardwood floor in the wee hours of the morning. Duncan was by no means a light sleeper but he'd been on edge the whole day. He'd been humiliated. And, to make things worse—and I am by no means, sexist—he'd been humiliated in front of a bunch of girls. And, to make things even worse than that, he'd been bested by that mean girl, Imagen.
There were three women on his mind. Naturally, Nasturtium had invaded his thoughts. Perhaps she did make him her bitch by beating him up, but he still felt something for her. He was only obligated to care about her welfare. Who knew where she could've gone? (L.augh O.ut L.oud—you do. It's a literary technique called dramatic irony.) But his mother had always told him that good things always come back to you; so, taking heed to her words of wisdom, he didn't search for her. The next woman on his mind was Aerin Watercress. He'd noticed how she looked at him at the Gym; the rose blooming on her cheek was enough. And surprisingly, Imagen too was on his mind. How could he forget her?
He bolted upright, the think blankets of his neat pallet cascading down to his waist. His forehead was damp and his breathing a bit labored. He must've just had some sort of nightmare. Taking in a deep breath of air, he peeled the blankets from the rest of his body and stood up. Then, with tiny steps he advanced towards the door of his room.
Turning the crystal handle, he pushed the door ajar and looked around the hallway. It was dark. Well, naturally it would be. They had no nightlight. Excuse the former statement. His vision still blurred with sleep, he yawned as he tottered across the floor and down the steps to the fridge.
Pulling open the door, the bright white light illuminated the room. A searing pain shot through his eyes. He winced. After that, with the purple and green dots having disappeared, he grabbed a carton of milk and began to chug it—suddenly thirsty. So parched was he that a dollop of the creamy substance oozed down his chin and tickled his smooth, bare chest. He unconsciously wiped his mouth with his forearm in spite of what his mother had always told him.
A round figure bumped into his leg. "Chi-cha-chi. [Move out of the way,]" Nasturtium scoffed as she grabbed the milk carton with her vines and gave it a shake. "Cha. [Inconsiderate bastard,]" she bit out through clenched teeth. Tossing the milk into the bullet trashcan, she rummaged in the crisper section and pulled out an Anjou pear. Smiling, she munched on it ravenously.
Duncan stood there in awe. He was glad that she was there, but he was awe-stricken at how she just ruled over him. Believe me, when she said move in that tone, he moved—quickly. He needed some control.
"Nasturtium," he said authoritatively. "Where have you been?"
She lifted one eye and mumbled something indistinct. As if he would comprehend it anyways.
"You are not supposed to sneak out of your pokéball. I needed you today and you failed me. It's because of you that I was made a fool of in front of all those girls."
As if he wasn't already one to begin with.
Growing agitated he asked, "Would you at least look me in the eye?"
She finished the pear and turned to face him. "Ta?"
"Thank you," he remarked. He took a deep breath. "Why are you being so difficult, Nasturtium? We're supposed to be a team. You know, a—"
"[I know what a team is. And I do not want to be a part of one that involves you. So leave me alone.]" She bumped the door to the fridge, causing it to shut. Darkness prevailed.
"Do not cut me off! If there's one thing that I hate, then that it being cut off."
"[Well I hate being owned by you. So there—we're equal.]" She pushed past him, brushing against his leg once more. Her feet clicked across the hardwood in floor.
Duncan groaned as he trudged behind her. The battle was already lost. There was no point in persisting: all efforts were right then declared futile. He was better off just sleeping it off. But, upon his arrival at his pallet, Nasturtium was already snuggled deep within its warmth. He smiled, maybe it was his chance to bond with her. He proceeded forward and tugged the blankets ever so slightly. She rolled over, a fiery look in her eyes, and his hope vanished into thin air. He walked over to the long window and reluctantly snoozed in the corner.
*~*
Duncan and Nasturtium ambled down Bijou Boulevard until Duncan, feeling as if this would soon be a daily routine, stopped at Café au Lait and went inside. Nasturtium grudgingly accompanied him and decided to nap under the stool while he drunk his fill.
Once again, the same young woman waited on him. "What would you like?" she asked.
"A French vanilla latté," he replied. "And a wild berry muffin, please."
She pressed her mouth into a line. "Hey," she said, perking up and looking him full in the eyes. Her face scrunched up. "You ordered that yesterday," she slowly uttered.
It was Imagen.
"Duncan," she growled. "I can't believe that I didn't recognize your voice from the Pokémon Center and from yesterday. What are you doing here?"
He wasn't going to be put down again. Yesterday he'd been ousted and he wasn't sure of his pride, or rather, his ego, could stand yet another blow. It was time to bite back. "It's a free country; I have the right to drink lattés wherever I please."
She narrowed her eyes. "But I think it's more than that. I think that you're just trying to irritate me. Hell, I don't even know why I'm having a conversation with you."
"The last time I checked," he said, leaning forward. "And your nametag says it too—you work here. So you have to talk to me."
"Not like this, I don't," she retorted. She shoved the cup under the flow of the frothy liquid and, with much expertise, dashed the flavoring into the cup. She gave him the price and his change.
"I should report the service you're giving me in that comment box over there," Duncan taunted her, his eyes scrutinized the shiny box.
"You wouldn't dare," she growled. Then, she shrugged her shoulders. "Doesn't matter anyways: I've been here a whole year. Why fire me over a complaint from you?"
"Because I'm influential."
She shook a long finger at him that was tipped with a long, healthy white nail. "Correction—your parents are influential."
She had him there. He'd done nothing great in his mere, shallow existence. Normally, he would've shut up, but she sparked something inside of him that made him want to persist in the argument. Nevertheless, he still held his tongue. If he mentioned money, he would sink even deeper in the well called her opinion. His cheeks burned.
"Humph," she huffed as she stripped off her apron. "As much as I would just love to continue this argument, I have better, more important things to do with my time. So would you please excuse me?" With that, she hung her apron on a hook and walked out of the door. Bested again. It was becoming a pattern.
"Come on, Nasturtium," he sighed as he slid from his seat. No reply. As a result of the silence, he peered under the seat to find that she was sound asleep. It's amazing how something so evil could look so angelic while sleeping. Pulling out the silver and gold sphere, he returned her to the tiny dwelling.
*~*
"All right, girls," Aerin emanated as she stood in the middle of the small circle. She glanced at Duncan and, upon seeing him roll his eyes, added, "and guy—uh, Duncan. Please release your pokémon."
The only sound that rung through the ear was the pop and mechanical whirring of the pokéball as its contents were released. Pokémon of all sorts were released: some were pure grass elements and others were the hybrids. As you know, Nasturtium was a Chikorita, and Chikorita are only of the grass element.
Her pout-y lips were curled into a smirk as she was released. As she appraised her surroundings, the smirk was soon transformed into a smile. She was in the company of other pokémon and not being chastised by Duncan when he was in the wrong the whole time. With a loud call, she dashed over to the Vileplume with the big, old head and started a friendly discourse. The Vileplume was cooperative and seemed to enjoy her company.
Aerin sidled next to the now standing Duncan and placed a satisfied hand on her hip. "Look, your Chikorita is getting along well with the other pokémon. My Vileplume, Parabola—don't laugh at her name—seems to really like her. You'll do fine here."
He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, a weary smile developing on his lips. Then boy is she in for a surprise. I just hope that she doesn't make us interact with one another.
She broke away from standing near him and walked back to the middle of the room. "Now, the best time to have some alone-time with your pokémon is by grooming him/her. But, with grass pokémon there is a slight twist. If you have a pokémon—(She looked over at Duncan)—like Chikorita, then you can obviously groom it with a brush. But, if you do not, then watering your grass pokémon is the way." She walked over to a crate and pulled out enough watering cans for the group and one fine-bristled brush for Duncan and started to dispense them. "All right, now. You may start by calling your pokémon."
Naturally, everyone else's pokémon back within one call. Duncan tried to take on a firm timbre as he called her. Nasturtium huddled closer to Parabola and looked at him sideways.
Trixie, the girl with the short green hair and chocolate brown eyes, told Duncan: "Try to call her in a softer tone, Duncan. Then she'll listen." He looked at her with a remorseful look in his eye. There was no use in being overly confident. She patted him on the shoulder. Subsequently, he gave it a try. "Hey Nasturtium, would you mind coming over here?"
She looked at him and uttered a simple, "[No.]"
Imagen clutched her mouth as she giggled a few times. A scandalous grin spread over her face as she said, in a light, friendly voice. "Hey Nasturtium, why don't you come over hear for a second? I'm Imagen," she added and, pointing to a robust Bulbasaur, said, "and this is my pal, Buster. Say 'hi'."
As if Imagen was her God-given trainer, she rushed over to her without hesitation and nuzzled with her and touched vines with Buster, who's bright red eyes squinted in delight.
Duncan did an animé pratfall and pulled himself up, scurrying over to Imagen. "How'd you do that? She won't even listen to me."
"I'm being nice and carefree with her, something that you should do," she told him matter-of-factly.
He said, "You make it seem so easy."
"That's because it is, Duncan."
Narrowing his eyes he asked, "if it's so easy, then why can't I do it?"
She simply replied, "Maybe you're just not cut out to be a Gym Leader, much less a pokémon trainer."
Aerin slithered over to his side and placed a reassuring hand on his arm and said, "Don't worry about it, Duncan. If you continue to be nice and caring, she should come along. Now you, Imagen, do be nice to him and helpful. Stop being such a smart ass."
"He's more than capable of defending himself, Aerin. He doesn't need you to come along and pat him on the back every time he doesn't get something. Sometimes, one just has to learn things the hard way." Then, leering at Duncan, supplied, "everything can't be just given to you. You have to work for it."
He felt like growling at her, to tell the truth; but that gesture would make him seem like some frightened Growlithe and the thing he most-wanted was to be poised and in control. He'd noticed that Nasturtium had been moving her mouth whenever Imagen said something, imitating her in order to make Duncan feel as if he'd been reduced down to a pulp by two people instead of by just one. She'd succeeded.
Nasturtium decided that, even though he deserved to rot in hell for what he'd done, she better relieve some of the pressure off of him. She scooted over to his feet and he, being overjoyed by her gesture, sat down Native-American style and pulled out the brush and watering can. He brushed her well enough: enough to make her a little more comfortable with him than what she had been. But the watering was a disaster.
"[That's too much! I'll drown!]" She sputtered water all over the place...including Duncan's face.
"Damn," he grumbled as he wiped his mouth with his bare forearm. The night before, for some odd reason, he found the Celadon Galleria Mall and raided Random, Old Navy, the Finish Line, and Target. He was a hell of a lot more comfortable than he was before, that was for sure. At that moment, he donned a pair of blue jeans with frayed hems and a bright white t-shirt with the Old Navy emblem on the chest. "Was all of that necessary?"
"[Was all of that necessary? You were choking me and now I'm in the wrong for keeping myself from dying? So now you want me to die?]" she yelled.
He didn't understand one word.
This enraged her.
"[Gah,]" she growled as he shot twirled the verdant green leaf on her head. One shuriken flew by his ear, causing him to jump. Then, as if it had been delayed, pain seared through his frame and he clutched his bleeding ear. It had been lightly grazed by the leaf.
He muttered some random blasphemy and asked her, "do you just have to hit me all of the time? Violence is not the way."
"[It makes me feel better; even though you've ruined my life by capturing me. Besides,]" she inched forward, looking him deep into the eyes. "[What are you going to do about it? Nothing; yeah—that's right. And who are you to tell me what is the way? Catching me while I was sleep and not head-up is not the way. Coward!]"
A loud grin filled the room as a tall, limber guy with black hair and hazel eyes strode into the room. "Someone needs to put her in check. Oh," he began, facing Aerin. "Hey Sis; Mom needs you to take the kids to the park."
She put her hands on her hips. "Can't you see I'm busy? Why can't you do it?" she queried him.
"Because, I have a date—that's why."
"Well, you're going to have to make some sacrifices Mr. Watercress," she declared as she stepped forward, poking him in the chest. "Even though you're older than me, I am still the Gym Leader. I delegate the power around here. And I have a class right now. And you, Dave, are going to have to reschedule because I am in the middle of an important lesson. Now hop to it."
He squinted his eyes dubiously at her. "Huh?"
"Yeah, you heard me the first time. Now leave. Take those little kids to the park," she growled. And, throwing up his hands in defeat, he shuffled out of there. She rubbed her hands together as she approached the group once more. "Now, that's how it's done."
Duncan smiled at her authority; but there was a larger situation at hand. His ear was dripping blood and Nasturtium was still disobedient. Could things get worse? Now usually when one says that, things actually do get worse. So, in order to keep in with tradition, I'll arrange it.
"[I've had enough of being abused; I'm out of here,]" Nasturtium grumbled as she advanced towards the silver and gold pokéball.
"Duncan," Aerin commanded in a steady tone. "Please remove the pokéball. We can nip this problem right in the bud."
Duncan immediately obeyed. She was the Leader after all—that meant she knew a lot of stuff. He reached for the ball, just before Nasturtium was able to reach it, and shoved it in his pocket. Feeling like he'd actually done something important, a grin appeared on his face. The look on Nasturtium's was priceless.
"[Give it here, you sap-licker!]" she taunted as she scurried over to the pocket that he placed it in, her leaf twirling violently. He just pressed it in further; she didn't stand a chance.
Never before had he felt like sticking out his tongue at her.
"Good," Aerin said. "In order to solve this problem, you two are going to have to be together—all day."
"[Impossible! I'd rather kill myself,]" Nasturtium cried as she fell onto her haunches and pouted her lip, her head drooped down. What fool could've left such a cherubic creature in that pose of melancholy? Well, Duncan could; so that's answer enough; yet, his heart did go out to her. She was a vessel in his becoming a Gym Leader and he wasn't going to let her ruin it. He'd sooner release her than do that—if she was that miserable.
Duncan reached out his hand to pat her reassuringly on the head. She looked up at him icily and he retreated. So, she just sat there and sulked. Oh, but she had a plan. And it would be persuasion enough to convince him that she wasn't the pokémon that he needed to do this: that she wasn't compatible with him. It would be enough to persuade him to get a new pokémon. It was thenceforth made her top priority.
Maybe this isn't my calling...
*~*
Concluding Statements: Wow, thanks for the overwhelming response to the last chapter. I can't believe that like eight people reviewed. It's very heartwarming. Oh and, General Failure, it's not possible for David to have that many pokémon—it's practically every grass pokémon in the game! So I might limit him to just one, okay? Oh, thanks Flamo for the other trainer; I'll fit her in somewhere. And thanks to Erriel, Keleri, Marie, Freedom Fighter, DuoShiogami (???), and Heath, plus any others, for reviewing. Now, what is Nasturtium's plan? Find out in the next chapter of The Felicities and Fallacies of Pokémon Training!