*~*The Felicities and Fallacies of Pokémon Training*~*

Chapter Fifth: Persuasion II

Written by the Duke of Briarcliffe

*~*

Author's Notes: Once and again, thank you all for being interested in the fanfiction. Lol, this is getting kind of old isn't it? Well anyways, I feel like it's necessary because when you write, you're supposed to make your audience happy and/or, if that doesn't work, just to get it off your psyche. Well, I hope that you enjoy this new chapter—The Duke of Briarcliffe

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"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt." —Bertrand Russell

*~*

Is it me, or does that quote seem a bit raunchy? Anyways, I believe that that quote means a lot, especially since it deals with my story and, most importantly, two of my major characters: Duncan and Nasturtium. I am try to decide if they are stupid or are intelligent. There's Nasturtium...she's smart and was mystified as to why Duncan would capture her while she was sleeping and why he expects her to listen to him. Duncan is both smart and stupid. He is definitely cocksure—(I've already mentioned how much of a player he was)—and he was full of doubt as to why Nasturtium has taken such a grudge against him and why he couldn't be accepted in this horrible world. In conclusion, I believe that they, along with everyone else in this world, are a mixture of both characteristics. We are, after all, a diverse people.

Many days had passed since we last beheld Duncan and his Chikorita. It was morning. The sun has just bounced up from watery depths up to the meniscus of the horizon. They sky was gray in spite of the presence of the glowing ball of light. Specks of water dotted the gray pavement and softly wrapped upon the windows. A low breeze kicked up the parched leaves that had once longed for the moisture but had their thirst had never been quenched. No rain had visited for many weeks. The day was a bit melancholy.

The household was already up and running—a bit sluggish in movement and pace, yet still up and functioning. Madison's rusty hair suffered from the terrible malady called bed-head. Duncan's eyes were a bit dark because he'd had a rough night thanks to Nasturtium, who insisted that she keep the pallet and that he sleep on the hardwood floor. Madison blatantly poured streaming water from the silver faucet into a kettle and placed it on the range where minutes later, it began to whistle loudly.

Duncan was broken from his restless stupor and he groggily rubbed his eyes. His skin was sticky with sweat and he knew that he needed to bathe; yet, he was much too lazy to actually do anything about it. He yawned loudly, brazenly spilling his funky breath into the air.

"[Ewe...go chew on a sprig of mint,]" Nasturtium grumbled as she pulled away from the flow of pungent breath. She coughed in disgust. Energetically did she amble over to the metal fridge and open it up with he healthy vines. Pulling open the crisper box, she pulled out a shiny nectarine that had been carefully washed over with Fit, by Duncan, and paraded back to the window to eat it.

Duncan looked at her and rolled his eyes. He pulled himself up from the floor and waddled over to the counter where Madison stood steeping the pekoe tea bag. A delightful aroma filled the air. Duncan pulled out one of the Styrofoam cups he'd stolen from Café au Lait and poured the steamy liquid into it.

"We should really buy some furniture today," Duncan said. "I can't face sleeping on the floor again; my back is killing me."

"Then, I wonder why you haven't gone on and died yet," Madison said under his breath as he took a careful sip.

"I heard that," Duncan grumbled as he pulled the cup to his lips, only to have it slammed onto the counter when he burned his tongue. His face turned a deep red as he inhaled as much air as he could in an attempt to cool it.

Madison smirked. "I was just kidding, Honeycomb." He took another sip, savoring the twang of the bitter tea. He liked things hard and raw. "I'm pretty sure that if you wouldn't complain half as much if Nasturtium let you sleep in the pallet too."

"Maybe," Duncan thoughtfully replied. "But then again, just because she would let me sleep there doesn't mean that she would actually listen to me."

"You're right about that," Madison agreed.

Duncan stared at him from over the rim of the cup and said, "Thanks, that's just what I wanted to here. You have such a knack with words."

His roommate grinned. "I do, don't I?"

Duncan half-smiled as he walked over the refrigerator and examined its contents, or lack thereof. The only thing there was fruit for Nasturtium and the shrimp egg foo young from days before, a liter of Poland Spring water, and, of course, a half-devoured twelve pack of Pepsi. "We definitely have to go shopping today."

"I'm all for it. I mean, I don't have a problem with living off of Pepsi and the Doritos in my bedroom," Madison said, shrugging his broad shoulders.

Duncan looked at him incredulously; "You mean that you've actually been stashing food. How could you?"

Madison simply said, "I was hungry last night so I went to the energy station and bought a big bag of Doritos. Sorry for not caring. I just took things into my own initiative. Besides, you were holed up in your bedroom last night with Nasturtium."

Duncan pointed to his eye and said, "And look where that got me."

Madison leaned forward and touched the tender skin of his under-eye. He winced. "Damn, dude. She really roughed you up last night."

"Humph," he scoffed, "tell me about it."

Madison shook his head from side-to-side as he tossed his cup into a vacant wastebasket. "She really is a feisty little thing."

Duncan rolled his eyes as he looked at her. She looked so smug and proud of her handiwork in the corner. Her violet eyes had an arrogant glint about them. "Tell me something I don't know."

Madison rubbed his chin pensively and said. "Ha. I've got it. Days like this are the best days to go swimming in." He walked off a ways. "Being pelted by water while you're actually in the water...it's like, inescapable, you know?"

Duncan gave him a sideways look as he walked over to the steps. "While you sit there and daydream about swimming, I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed. Rain or shine, I am not sleeping on this hard-ass floor again."

*~*

"Nasturtium, would you please move out of the way. Can't you see that we're moving furniture over here?" Duncan pleaded as he swung the long, textured couch so that it was in perfect alignment with the extensive window.

That little lip curled up disobediently. "[No.]" She remained fixed in her position, right in the middle of the window. "[I was here first and I'm rather comfortable. I'm not moving one bit.]"

"Fine," he murmured. "Have it your way." Just don't be angry when you find that you're caught underneath the couch. Madison gave him a questioning look and Duncan confirmed it. On cue, they moved to the designated spot and were about to drop the couch when Nasturtium dashed from the window.

Her little body heaved as she gazed on at him with unbelieving eyes. "[You were really going to drop it on me weren't you?]" Her little body throbbed due to the immediate exertion she just put on it.

Duncan just ignored her—whatever she'd said couldn't have been good—as he went over to the armchair and lifted it from the ground. He marched over to the left wall, where Nasturtium was sitting and said, "Move it or lose it. I don't have time for your games." She waited until the last second to escape from the wrath of the furniture. When he turned around, she met him with another unbelieving look. "[What the hell is wrong with you, sap-licker? Are you trying to hurt me?]"

Duncan strolled over to the loveseat and looked at it thoughtfully. Madison placed a hand on his bare shoulder. "Do you want me to help, or do you have it on your own?"

"I've got it," he answered as he fixed his hands upon it the best way he could before hoisting it into the air. He wobbled over to the right side of the wall—Nasturtium wisely ducked out of the way—and placed it there. Then he stepped back a few paces and he and Madison admired their strength and precision. Madison rubbed his hands together and said, "Now we have to do the beds!"

Duncan grinned at his friends mock-enthusiasm and wiped his forehead free of the watery beads that had collected onto it. "Yeah, we can put up the pictures and set up the computer desk, TV stand, and tables later." He picked up a clear bottle of Evian and guzzled it. Wiping his mouth, he raised the box that contained the frame for his full-size futon—he'd always preferred those for some reason—and moved to the bedroom; Nasturtium close by.

Once in the room, Duncan got right down to business. He stripped the box of its contents and read the directions before hooking it up. Nasturtium was very close to him; she appeared to be interested—but then again, who knew what was up in that scheming mind of hers?

"Please, move Nasturtium. You're in the way."

"[No! I'm not moving anywhere. Especially if you ask me in that tone.]" A steely smile spread across her face.

"Suit yourself," he exhaled as he utilized the given wrench and screws to forge the metal frame together. Everything was coming along very nicely. He was almost done.

"Hmmn," he said. "Where is Bar C?" He frantically searched for the last metal bar that he needed that would make the frame complete. He groaned upon finding that it wasn't in the room. Jumping up, he went out of the room and into the den where he found it lying there in the middle of the room. While he was out there, having become suddenly hungry, he decided to warm up a bag of popcorn in their microwave. After a chime resounded, he wolfed down as much as he could and tossed the kernels in the garbage. Then, feeling that he was being a bit harsh towards Nasturtium, even though it was what she duly deserved, he washed off some grapes for her and placed them in a bowl before returning to the room.

Whoa, was he in for a surprise when he came into the room. Not only had the frame of his bed been completely taken apart, but the parts had carelessly been strewn across the room. And, the bandit, stood proudly in the middle of the room with a chunk of the wood in her mouth, smiling widely.

His cheeks were inflamed with blood. Heat radiated from them—the air even looked a bit wavy from a distance, like the sidewalk does on a hot summer's day. He was just so angry. All of the time he'd spent had just been wasted; and all of it had been wasted by the expense of having Nasturtium there with him. Yet, in spite of his anger, he remained calm, and gently collected the parts. She wanted him to be angry. And, when a green vine whipped him across his face, leaving a red scratch that extended from one cheek to the other, he shook it off with a steely resolve. Composedly was how he fully set the bed up and continued to decorate his room, which left Nasturtium boiling over in rage.

She let out a fierce battle cry before she hurled her little body into him, causing him to glide across the floor. Her whippings had been so overwhelming at first—he'd never been spanked as a child—; but her lashings were meaningless now. He was immune to them. He picked himself up from the floor, collectedly. Still bad-tempered, she fired off a circular leave that grazed his cheek. Droplets of crimson dotted the white material of his wife-beater. He just stared at her.

She faltered behind his glare. She'd never seen him this way before and she damn sure didn't like it. She used to like seeing him touch whichever part of his body that she'd injured but now he didn't seem to care anymore. Her plan was working all right...

He steadily walked out of the room and into the bathroom. Opening up the medicine cabinet, he pulled out a bottle of alcohol and peroxide and some ointment. He dabbed the cut with a damp washcloth before applying the healing aids.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. There, looking back at him, was a seventeen year old who was rich but didn't have anything to show. He was a normal person once stripped of all the extravagances and such. His thick black hair had wilted due to the humidity. The best gel wasn't even able to hold it up. His clear, bright violet eyes were steady, yet brimming with failure. Under his right eye was a little dark and the cut was anything but invisible. The corner of his lip was still a little swollen from the night before. His washboard stomach was sore from the unnecessary force that had been applied to it. And his neck was stiff from staying in an upright position while sleeping for so many days. If eyes truly are the windows to the soul, then one could obviously see that his had been battered—ego and pride shattered all because of a little snot of a pokémon. And he felt like such a fool for having gotten himself into this and even more for buying her a nice, comfortable bed. A decision was though of, but the future of it was still blurry.

The rain beat upon the window with a tender ferocity. It was comforting, soothing. The sky was dark and the moon was high. He could hear the whine of a car passing by another one. It was annoying. Yet, it had become so much a part of him in the short time he'd been residing in Celadon that it didn't matter any more. Most of all, he was tired.

"Nasturtium," he said, reentering the bedroom. "I have a bed for you. You can sleep in it if you want to."

She just looked at him and growled. "[I don't want anything that you have.]"

He shrugged his shoulders as he stripped off his white tank and rugged jeans in order to put on a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. Her response couldn't have been nice, or even gracious. "Fine then. Just sleep on the floor if that's what you want," he told her as he crawled underneath the sheets. The bed was an instant relief—nice and firm, and most of all, comfortable.

"[I'm sleeping up there and you're sleeping down here,]" she scoffed as she coiled her vines around his body and yanked him out of the bed and onto the floor. He'd hit the floor a bit harder than intended, but she didn't care. Her plan was in progress.

His lip was busted, having bitten it when he landed on the floor, and it stung. He'd had enough. She was more of a hassle than a convenience. He could never amount to anything with her by his side. And maybe having a pokémon that could eventually evolve into Meganium wasn't worth the struggle that he'd been participating in. He was better off without her. At least he was somewhat happy that way; at least he had the hope of capturing a great Chikorita and becoming a Gym Leader. He would have to pull it off some other way. But, he had to pull it off without her. That much was apparent.

Surprising even himself, he clenched his iron-like grip on the scruff of Nasturtium's neck and carted her out of the room. His gaze was steady, as if transfixed on some unattainable object. The object was alleviation. Her endless kicking and squealing caused Madison to rush out of his bedroom.

"What the hell do you think you're doing ?"

He looked at him from over his shoulder. "I'm taking out the trash. I'm not in the business of keeping pokémon that don't want to be kept," was his reply.

"What?"

"I'm doing something I should've done a long time ago!" With that, he flung open the door and proceeded down the hall. Not wanting to wait for the elevator, he took the stairs. Each tremor caused by his pace shot pain through Nasturtium's body.

"[Let me go! Let me go!]"

He disregarded her.

Minutes later, they made it to the hallway where Duncan was greeted with feminine whistles and scornful looks and phrases by anyone who saw past his toned physique and realized what a horrible deed he was committing. Ignoring those too, he walked to the double glass doors and threw them open.

Lightning crackled on and he was soaked all the way through. But all of that was insignificant—irrelevant—and most of all, redundant. Tears from the sky along with tears of his own fused into one being that trickled down his face. Everything was crashing down upon him. Things were perfect in his imagination but in reality, things had not been going as intended. He had to eliminate the negative things in his life. That is the key to having a good life, after all.

"I know that this is what you want: that this is what you've been praying for. Well guess what, Nasturtium? Now you've got it. Are you happy now? Are you happy? Not only have you ruined my dream but you've also ruined my life. I hate that I ever even caught you. I hate that you hurt me to get what you want. I hate the way you look after you attacked me. Well guess what? It's all over now." He tossed her across the sidewalk and she hydroplaned across the slick surface. She hopped to her feet and stared at him, hurt. "You ran away the other day. So why don't you go there now! Wherever it was, it must've been better than this. You'll be happier there. And most importantly, you'll be away from here. I don't want to see you again!"

She hesitantly turned to walk away, looking behind her back the entire time. For some reason, he'd stayed there, his eyes riveted on her, and saw her off. As if that would redeem him. Well...her plan had worked—that much was evident. She got what she wanted. But, as she skulked away, she wondered why she felt so dejected...

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Concluding Statements: Short and sweet and to the point. I know that was a bit disturbing but he was just so full of anger. Tell me was he justified in doing what he did and did Nasturtium get what she deserved in your reviews. I really need your input. Also tell me what you think the plan was. It's not a toughie, LOL. Sincerely yours, —The Duke of Briarcliffe