Really? I love beating topics to death too! Probably why I wrote this story. I guess it's just about what you think a burn is. I've seen it differently in fanfiction. Sometimes it's having the pokemon charred and burnt, and sometimes it's having the pokemon actually smolder. I always thought of a burn as the sort of burns I've gotten. It doesn't take a lot of heat to wind up with a huge welt that hurts a lot. I touched a piece of hot metal once and couldn't move my hand for a week. And that wasn't anywhere near the temperature that would even light paper.
What high-level pokemon? As Gabrielle said, there aren't any older trainers and there probably never were. So it seems it's just the kiddies fighting. (Not that that's ominous or anything.)
Keleri – I think people don't like showing weaknesses sometimes because you feel stupid admitting that a few years ago, you wouldn't have gone into the basement at night…and that even now you don't really want to.
Uncertainty, Wrapped in Flowers
-
Prowler was knocked down again. She didn't stand. Elliot started to recall her, preparing to run, but the raticate blocked the red beam.
"That all we're supposed to get?" one asked.
"Yeah."
"Din!" Elliot yelled, throwing his last pokeball. The poochyena barked fearfully upon seeing Prowler, badly injured and trying to crawl away. "Take down, Din!"
Din charged at one of the raticate, knocking it back, but the other one immediately tackled her. Orange energy gathered in a glowing ball in front of the first one's mouth, lighting up the dark forest, and then a hyperbeam shot out, tossing Din away.
Prowler had managed to stand and was trying to walk. The other raticate jumped onto her back, forcing her down again. She rolled over and kicked it off with her hind legs, opening long gashes on its belly. The first raticate, having recovered its energy, bit into her exposed stomach. She screamed.
"Hey!" one of the men yelled. "No blood!" The raticate released her and pulled back, head dripping black in the dim light.
Din charged again, sinking her teeth into one raticate's squat neck. It let out a shriek of its own and shook itself, breaking Din's grip and sending her flying into a rock. She slumped down, not moving.
"Return Prow-" One of the men tackled Elliot, knocking the air from his lungs.
"You're not supposed to do that," said the other rocket, not sounding as if he cared.
"Dammit, just get the persian!"
Din stood, glowing. She grew in size and shape, and when the light faded a new pokemon stood there. She growled, fur fluffed out, and the two raticate backed up. The two rockets seemed frozen.
Elliot pulled himself up, recalled them, and ran.
-
-
The Pokemon Center healed his pokemon without comment. Elliot was shaken. The rockets had appeared out of nowhere. They'd nearly beaten him too. And the raticate, digging its teeth into Prowler with all that blood…could it have killed her? He remembered the rocket knocking him down, how painful and terrifying it had been.
He was scared. He wanted to stay there in the town, to never venture out into places without other people and with criminals lurking everywhere and his sudden understanding that they could have killed Prowler and they could have killed Din and they could have killed him.
But he couldn't. He was going to be a pokemon master. That had been…that had always been what he'd wanted, hadn't it? He couldn't go home and tell everyone he was a coward, tell everyone that he'd nearly lost to Team Rocket, had lost to Team Rocket, had only gotten away because of luck and because he'd run.
So that morning, he left.
-
-
"Hey."
Elliot jumped, turning toward the speaker.
The girl laughed. She looked about his age. "Wow, you're nervous. I was just going to ask if you'd have a fight with me."
"O-oh," Elliot said, feeling stupid. "Yeah."
"One on one?" She didn't wait for an answer. She threw a pokeball. A meowth appeared.
Elliot tossed Howler's pokeball. An instant later he regretted it, wished he could undo the motion, pull the ball back before it opened. He couldn't. Besides, he had to fight, she had challenged him.
Howler barked. The meowth hissed back, fur raised and tail puffed.
"Growl, Snowball!" The meowth did, producing a sound more frightened than frightening.
Snowball? Elliot wondered. "Howler, tackle it!"
"Icy wind!"
As Howler started to charge, the meowth tensed, and a chilling breeze blew. Tiny nuggets of ice struck Howler, obscuring his vision. He missed Snowball by inches, then halted and shook, causing a shower of ice crystals. His fur was still frost-coated, crackling as he moved.
"Ember!"
Howler barked, sending out a small ball of flame. It smacked into the meowth, knocking it backward. Snowball yowled, flattening down against the ground.
"No, Snowball! Quick, use fury swipes!"
The meowth ran forward and jumped at Howler. Its tiny claws couldn't do much against Howler's fur, but it tried, scratching wildly. Howler shook himself, trying to knock it off.
"Howler, bite it!"
Howler twisted, managing to bite its tail and pulled it off by that. He shook it, causing a snapping sound. The meowth screeched and he released it, but it didn't quiet down or move from where he dropped it.
"Return, Snowball," the girl said, not sounding that disappointed.
-
-
Elliot entered Celadon minutes later. The girl he'd met was of the stay home breed of trainer, someone without the interest of gaining badges, or perhaps just too timid to want to go out on her own. That sort of thing was common in larger cities, where children were less likely to be bored and desperate for adventure.
Celadon was the kind of place for that sort of thing. It was big, with a large population and plenty of stores, without having enough visitors pass through to make it as urban as Saffron. It was busy but quiet, with even the gambling slots somehow wholesome.
The Pokemon Center was the same as it had been in every other city. Elliot handed the Nurse Joy his pokemon and sat down to wait.
He started to look through his backpack, to see what he needed to buy, and saw the yellow thing he'd found in the Seafoam caves. He'd forgotten about it. He took it out, feeling how heavy it was. Was it gold? He'd heard people sometimes found chunks in caverns and places.
He'd ask a shopkeeper, he decided. He needed to buy more pokemon food anyway, both for his pokemon and himself. When his pokeballs were returned he headed off in the direction of the huge, multilevel department store.
It seemed larger outside than inside. Elliot wandered around until finally coming upon a huge aisle filled with bags and bags of pokemon food. Picking up several, he headed toward the counter and set them down. The man there checked them and told him the price, and Elliot gave him the money.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Elliot rummaged through his bag and retrieved the nugget. It glinted under the florescent lights. "Is this gold? How much is it worth?"
"Oh…five thousand," said the man casually.
"Okay." Elliot started to put it back in his bag.
The man jumped slightly. "Wait, what are you doing?"
"Huh? Oh, I didn't want to sell it. I was just wondering."
The clerk restrained a twitch. "But, erm, it's not like you can use it for anything."
Elliot shrugged, not noticing anything amiss. "Yeah, that's okay." He exited the store.
His pokemon were healed and he had the supplies he needed. Now for the third part of Celadon. Fighting Erika.
In every other city Elliot had traveled to, he'd gone directly from the Pokemon Center to the gym, sometimes even forgetting to heal his pokemon in his haste. But this time, it was the last thing, and he went there because it was what a trainer did, without the excitement and anticipation.
He'd fought the girl because she'd been there and asked, and because trainers didn't ever refuse a fight. But he didn't really…
Trainers fought gym leaders and collected the badges. So that was what he'd do.
The gym he found arose neatly from the concrete, flanked by landscaped hedges. Elliot approached on the paved walkway. The glass doors hummed almost silently as they opened automatically at his approach, and Elliot stepped inside.
The ceiling was made of glass as well, and there were lights shining on the walls. The grass was green and healthy, yet Elliot noticed it was a lot less springy than the grass in the forests, and looking down, he could even just make out dirt between the blades in some places. When he reached down to touch it, he was surprised by how rough the points felt, and how thin the individual strands were. The grass wasn't as thick and lush as it was elsewhere, and the green was less vibrant.
The trees were strangely asymmetrical. On some he could see where it looked like a lower branch had been cut for some reason. How odd.
Thinking back, Elliot realized that park trees and park grass was always like that. He'd just been spending so much time walking between cities that he wasn't used to them anymore.
It really wasn't that strange now that he thought about it. Trees grew bigger in forests, didn't they? Plants were probably always bigger and healthier and thicker in the wild. He remembered how his mother had to buy special lights for the potted palm tree she wanted to keep in the living room, and even then, it never looked like the trees he saw on television desert islands.
There were some flowers here and there, organized into rows and rectangles. Most were small, mainly green bushes dotted with a few light-colored dots, but there were a few flowers that were bright, almost gaudy, mostly bright orange with extravagant petals. There was a faint sweetness to the air, so slight Elliot barely noticed it.
In the middle of the room, past the line of trees, on an open field, there was a group of other children. As Elliot approached, he realized they were all girls. For no reason, he felt a sudden jab of anxiety and shyness. Swallowing once to clear his throat, Elliot spoke.
"I'm here to challenge the gym leader," he said, his voice coming out confident.
A dark-haired girl in the center of the group stepped forward. "I am she." Elliot was somewhat taken aback by her calm, demure expression. This was Erika? "Would three against three be sufficient?"
Elliot wondered, fleetingly, why three on three battles seemed so much more common than any other kind, but responded, "Okay."
"Tangela," the girl said, languidly tossing out a Greatball. A blue bundle of vines formed, eyes peeping out from inside and two red feet, looking comically like those on wind-up toys, jutting out from the bottom.
"Weird," Elliot blurted out. He'd never seen it before, and it looked bizarre enough that he wasn't sure what its attacks were. He opened his pokedex.
"Tangela," it reported. "A grass type covered in vines. No one has ever seen-"
"I know that," Elliot muttered, cutting it off with the press of a button. A list of attacks replaced the pokemon's picture on the screen. Several dusting moves, several tangling moves – he supposed that should have been obvious – and several draining moves.
Howler would work, but he would probably work against any pokemon in the gym. Elliot wanted to save him for last. A flying pokemon would be able to blow away any of the pollens and powders, and fly to avoid the vines. "Sono," Elliot decided. His anxiety was already melting away. The gym was so peaceful, wholesome. It didn't seem like anything bad would happen or ever had.
Sono materialized, fluttering her wings to ease her landing. She looked up at the tangela, which towered over her, and peeped nervously.
"Stunspore, Tangela." The grass type shuddered, a yellow dust coming off of its vines.
"Blow it away!"
Sono beat her wings ineffectually, blowing some of it back. As the first of it touched her she changed tactics, trying to fly away from it instead. She hovered a short distance away, her wings periodically jerking as if she couldn't control them. She was clearly laboring to stay in the air.
"Constrict, Tangela," Erika said calmly. Vines uncurled and snapped toward the bird.
"Dodge it!" Elliot yelled, Sono already wrapped by the time he spoke. The vines squeezed once and then released her. Elliot recalled the unconscious spearow.
Flying types didn't work, then. "Howler!" he yelled.
"Sleep powder."
The tangela quaked again, this time releasing a light blue dust.
"Quick, Howler, use flamethrower!"
The flame burned through the powder and the pokemon. Blackened, the tangela crouched on the ground.
Elliot assumed it was defeated. He was surprised when the girl spoke again.
"Giga drain," she said calmly.
Two blue tendrils lashed out from underneath the charred exterior. They wrapped around Howler's sides, the tips digging painfully into his skin. He yelped, biting through them.
"Flame wheel!"
Howler tilted his head back as if to howl, then snapped his head forward, a ring of flames forming and flying at the tangela. It absorbed the fire without sound, looking little different than it did before the attack, and Elliot couldn't tell if it had fainted or not at first.
Erika recalled it. "Weepinbell," she said, throwing her second pokeball. She didn't order a move immediately.
"Flamethrower!" Elliot ordered.
"Acid."
The purple goop passed through the fire attack, striking Howler directly in the face. Unlike the dust the tangela had produced, the acid couldn't be burned away. But the acid couldn't do much to stop the flame either, and most of Howler's attack hit. The weepinbell shuddered but didn't seem to be that damaged.
Howler whined, pawing at his head as the acid smoked and burned on his fur. It only lasted seconds, wearing off in time for him to hear the next command.
"Take down, Howler!" Howler charged.
"Vine whip."
The weepinbell smacked his forepaws with the tendril from the top of its head. He stumbled, lost control, and tripped, skidding painfully to a halt, the dirt grinding into his sore, burnt muzzle.
"Try again!"
"Vine whip."
Again, Howler was knocked down.
"Ember!"
"Acid."
Howler began to spit out glowing balls. A moment later he jerked under the splash of acid and stopped.
Every time Elliot used a fire attack, Howler stood still and was hit with the acid, but every time Elliot tried a charge Howler was tripped.
"Um…agility, Howler! Then use ember!"
Howler began to run. He wasn't high enough level to be skilled at the move, but he was faster than before.
"Vine whip."
The attack missed. Howler barked, tossing a fireball into the air. He kept moving, dodging the weepinbell's attacks, and continued using ember. Finally, the weepinbell quivered and seemed to deflate, sinking against the ground. Howler stopped. His legs suddenly began to tremble and he lay – almost fell – down himself, breathing heavily. It would have been more noticeable in a human-shaped, two-legged pokemon. Elliot didn't even glance at him. He was watching the gym leader.
"Return," Erika said placidly. She picked a third pokeball. "Vileplume."
"Flame it!"
Howler jumped to his feet, took a deep breath and exhaled a long blast of flame.
"Petal dance."
The vileplume spun, sending out thousands of tiny petals into the air. The attack burned through them and through them until it faded, never reaching the pokemon.
"Bite!" Howler leapt, sinking his teeth into the vileplume's head.
"Stunspore."
The vileplume twitched. Howler jerked and fell off, immobile.
Now what? Elliot wondered. He had four pokemon left. He hadn't let Din out since…what had happened, or Prowler. He didn't want to use them. And Discord wasn't that strong. "Go, Caw!" he yelled. After what happened with Sono, he wouldn't try ordering Caw to blow the attacks back. "Peck!"
"Poisonpowder."
Caw flew at the vileplume as its petals flapped, expelling a thick cloud of purple dust. Although the poisonpowder was released when he was still well away and he should have still had time to turn, he must not have been able, because he flew directly into it to stab at the vileplume with his beak.
"Great! Now fly!"
Caw beat his wings, the powerful gusts diffusing the cloud completely as he pushed himself unsteadily upward, toward the glass ceiling.
"Dive!" Caw plummeted.
"Petal dance." The vileplume twirled again.
Caw hit the petals but didn't slow or make any attempt to back out, falling through them to smash into the vileplume.
"Return."
Caw was standing upright, but swaying badly, as if drunk. Elliot scarcely noticed this, recalling him by habit.
Erika, as serene as even, approached Elliot and handed him the badge he'd earned.
-
-
Elliot felt somewhat comforted after the gym battle. It was the sort of thing, the way the fights were supposed to be. Competitive and challenging but a game, not something there was any consequence for losing beyond a few dollars and maybe some pride.
He sent out Prowler after he left the city. He had to at some point.
"Hi," Elliot said, feeling awkward. She turned to him and stared wordlessly. "I'm sorry."
She cocked her head inquiringly, not in a talkative mood.
"About when I had you fight the rockets. I'm sorry."
Her expression was one of mild confusion. ((Why?)) she asked.
"Because – because I messed up! You were hurt!" he yelled.
She looked at him. ((Now I am not.))
"But –" Elliot didn't know how to express what he meant. "You could have…"
((Died,)) she finished for him.
Elliot stared at her. His face screwed up. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around Prowler's neck and began to cry.
Prowler shifted her weight uncomfortably, not used to this. She licked his cheek while he sobbed.
After several seconds, Elliot pulled away, wiping at his face away embarrassedly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "If you don't – if you don't want to be my pokemon anymore, I'll let you go."
She had nowhere she wanted to go. ((I am not upset,)) she told him. ((It was no different than any other fight.))
"But you were hurt!"
((It was no different to me,)) she said.