Isobel had a lot of explaining to do. Her shoes slapped against the cobblestones as she charged through the streets. She was going up to meet the trainer near the Hero's Bath and hopefully get herself out of this jam.
Stupid. She was stupid. Stupid for snapping at her trainer and stupid for giving herself false hope over a phony contract. It was on a competitive basis, and she'd only get paid on the condition that Isobel won, not just for tagging along. She wished she had read the fine print there. But if she had Nomels, she might as well have made Nomelade if the trainer was still willing to pay.
Eventually, she reached the stone pillars which housed Circhester's biggest tourist attraction. Both a historical site and a popular bath-house, it was one of many reasons Isobel chose to move to Circhester in particular. Nothing like soaking up in the hot springs after a long day of work or exercise. Now wasn't the time to relax though as she tried to pick out her employer in the crowd.
There he was, dressed from head to toe in black designer gear, plus a golden chain hanging by his neck. He was as scrawny as a Scraggy, and looked like he was made of money even though his clothes were as plain as night. And who wore all-black in the summer?
Isobel put on her friendliest customer-facing mask and walked up to him. He looked up at her. She looked down at him. He said nothing at first.
"Oh, you're Trevor, right?"
He stepped in place. "And you are?"
"I'm Isobel, the one who accepted your offer." She extended her hand to his. A nice, firm handshake was customary between people working together. "Nice to meet—"
"Aw, shit," he said, "did you even read the thing? Can you read at all?"
So much for being civil. She squinted in response, leering down at him. "Yeah, I can. I know you asked for a trainer to come and not just a Pokemon."
"So why should I hire you?"
That was a good point. While she kept that poker face of hers, she wanted to die inside. No, she had to think of something quickly, or else live on a diet of Pokepellets for the rest of her days with Gloria. Well, the Pokepellets part was a lie, but still.
"Oh, no, I have a trainer, she's just… out of town. I thought I'd do her a solid and take on something on my lonesome."
"Oh yeah, her name and rank?"
"Gloria Deo, five stars."
Four stars since Isobel left, actually. She hoped that whatever he typed in, it would skirt around the ranking lie and show Gloria for the good trainer that she was. "Check out the league match between me and that Rime—"
"I know." Oh, c'mon, let a Mon speak for once!
The fight played out on his phone (not cracked unlike hers and with a gold case), and with each punch and kick Isobel flew at the opponent, Trevor made brief comments here and there. Nice form. Determined to win. Able to think on her feet, unlike most Machamp. Hey, that was just another Pokedex myth! But no matter. He put the phone away and sighed.
"Alright, fine, you're hired, but on one condition. You don't speak at all. Don't ask questions about what this is and don't let anyone else know you can speak."
She stepped back. If she remained within punching distance for this, she would've clobbered him without a second thought. "You gotta be kiddin' me. It's not like I'm some alien or anythin', more Pokemon are talkin' these days, y'know!"
"I know." He tucked his hands in his pockets, puffing out his chest. "But money's on the line here. If you go running your mouth, he won't think you're my Pokemon, and if that jerk finds out I hired you because of it, he'll call the bet off. He'll—"
"So it's a bet?" This was getting worse with each passing second. "You didn't put that on the job description."
"Pfft, who cares? The refs won't know. But this jerk I'm fighting will know I'm cheating by getting someone else's team member in."
Isobel balled her hands into fists. What had she gotten herself into? "You can't stop me from sayin' stuff, especially if I need to coach yo—"
"Coach me, who do you think you are?" He spat on the ground. "Like you're some master-class trainer. You're just here to carry out whatever moves I give you."
"But—"
"Do you want to get paid or not?" Stop interrupting! Isobel did all she could to not wring his neck, tucking her shaking hands behind her back. She already sold out the minute she chose this job. And yet, she needed the money. She sighed, putting her hands on her hips.
"Alright, yes, I wanna get paid. Do we have a deal?" Time for a second handshake. He squinted at it for a moment, then shook it.
"Okay, deal. Now let's just get a move on to the battle park. And remember, no talking."
Isobel sighed and tailed Trevor as he led the way. Not that she wanted to see his face, but no matter. Once this was over, she didn't have to worry about this situation for another month. At least the walk through Circhester proved as beautiful as ever. Colourful flowers were lined up in pots along the pavement paths. The buildings around her gave the city a timeless feel, with its bath stone architecture and symmetrical patterns. Looking at this, she almost forgot she was picking at some dumb trainer's scraps. Speaking of which…
"Hey, T-Vul!" A younger trainer went up to him, holding a sharpie. "Can you sign my Pokeball?"
"Hey, my Vully, sure thing," he said with a smile. So he must've been a celebrity of some sort, right? Isobel had to check.
Once the kid was gone, she turned on the city's free wi-fi and looked through the Rootom search bar to find this T-Vul, expecting a movie star or a rapper. Lots of celebrities were fake, bitter asshats in person, right?
She was disappointed to find out his Snap!App was his claim to fame with around 50k followers. Sure, it was nothing to sneeze at, but even a Scrafty could do better, and did by about 500k more followers. But anyway, most of Trevor's account was him showing off his clothes, his cars, both his clothes and cars, and his Pokemon, which he also sometimes dressed in designer wear. He had a Thievul and Raboot by the looks of it, though the Raboot was the only one smiling in the picture alongside their trainer.
She wasn't supposed to speak, but she might as well have humoured herself. "Psst," she whispered, "what's it like being a Snapper?"
"Ew, no, that's not what we call ourselves," he said. "But eh. I only have a few followers."
"Fifty thousand isn't a lot, then?"
"This other guy has 200k. He has clout, believe me."
"So… you're fighting him because he has more followers than you?"
"Part of it, but what's your point?"
"Just seems like one big pissing contest to me."
"Do you want me to call this job off? Then shut it."
That put that conversation to bed, then.
Once they got close to the park's entrance, Trevor took her to the corner where the two of them remained unseen and briefed her on how the fight would play out. 3v3, 1st to 2 wins, yadda yadda, she knew the drill already.
Since Isobel didn't have her Pokeball on her (not anymore since Gloria released and unregistered Isobel with her insistence), he brought both of his other Pokemon out to accompany him on the way. They didn't stop to introduce themselves. Once they started walking through the lobby, though, that's when the Raboot turned and sneered at Isobel.
"He's gettin' you to fight?" She snorted. "Like we're not good enough for him."
"We aren't," the Thievul said, head lowered, "we never are."
"Look," Isobel said, "this isn't a contest. I'm just here to pay my dues, then I'll be out of your hair. Or fur."
The Raboot crossed her arms and turned her head. "Whatevs. I'll show you."
"Just calm down..." the Thievul said.
"Oh yeah?" She kicked him in the side, making him fall behind. "Well, I'm calm now."
"C'mon, guys," Trevor said, eyebrows knitted, "get a move on. Don't need one of you down for the count before the fight starts."
Raboot joined her trainer while the Thievul joined Isobel's side.
"Both of them are such jerks," the Thievul said.
"I can tell," she said. "Name's Isobel."
"Bronze. So you're really here on your own? That's cool."
"Certainly doesn't feel cool right now." She sighed, then forced a smile. "But it has a lot of perks."
"Huh." Not another peep from him, which struck Isobel as weird, but oh well. That was the least of her concerns as the team entered the rented arena.
There were two sides of the audience. On Trevor's half, only a handful sat on the bleachers, while the other half had a dozen people on the contender's side. This guy wore colourful garb and looked nothing like the tech savvy guy Trevor made him out to be. If anything, he looked more like the type to meditate underneath waterfalls than go for joyrides with chrome-plated cars.
Isobel felt out of sorts here. It was like walking into a bar and having the patrons stare at you as you asked for drinks. Only because she had definitely done that once before and got asked to leave on account of alcohol being illegal and dangerous for Pokemon to consume. Still, she took a deep breath, calming herself as Trevor's team stopped, facing the other side.
"Ah," the guru guy said, "you have a new team member."
Isobel was about to speak when she covered her mouth. Keeping herself silent was harder than she thought.
"Yup, you know my old man. He had a few Pokemon knocking around, and as a parting gift, he gave me another one."
"Was that why you challenged me?" He smiled. "Now you have another Pokemon?"
"I…" Trevor rubbed his head. Isobel resisted the urge to laugh at that. "Look, Nil, I got her fair and square. Now, when are we gettin' started?"
"As soon as you're ready." He kept that smile. "I must warn you, since you challenged me, it's only customary for me to decide the order of each battle. So you know you will be severely disadvantaged since you're stuck with your weaker types."
Did that account for Isobel too? She hoped he didn't have a psychic up his sleeve that time.
"Alright, fine, I know what Pokemon you've got. Just… lemme…" He whipped out his phone and started recording, holding it out in front of him to his audience. "Yo, Vullies! We gotta mad sitch here. My beef with Nil's reached mad heights, and we're havin' a grudge match to decide who becomes top dog around here!"
He continued to brag about how his Pokemon would come out on top. It seemed like he was making a point of this, perhaps for the 'clout' as he called it. Trevor's voice was completely phony, along with his movements as he made devil horns with his hands and showed off his bling. The few followers in his audience, when asked to cheer, only did so half-heartedly, clapping like they were at a golf match.
"Is he always like this?" Isobel asked Bronze.
"Yes, unfortunately," he replied.
"Oh shut it, don't ruin the spirit of this match!" the Raboot said.
Compared to Trevor though, Nil seemed a lot more genuine. He didn't start bragging to the fans on his side or gloating about his riches. At first, Isobel wished she was on Nil's side instead. Then a cold sweat trickled through her. How strong were his Pokemon if he wasn't showing them off?
Once Trevor stopped showboating in front of the Snap, Nil answered that question as he released a Drizzile. The water type looked to Nil with reverence, and he returned it by stroking his neck.
"First," he said, "against your Raboot."
Nil certainly wasn't kidding when he said he rigged the match against his opponent's Pokemon. Trevor grunted, though he kept his cool and grinned. "I expected that would happen. She'll run circles around your lizard."
"Suck on a Muk, you smelly human!" the Drizzile shouted, which fell on deaf ears. Despite this, Nil seemed to understand the sentiment as he patted him on the back.
"Don't let him rile you up, just focus on the battle."
He gave him a thumbs up, and the Drizzile entered the fray as he faced the Raboot.
The ensuing match told Isobel a lot about Trevor's training style. He stubbornly commanded the Raboot to throw fire attacks at the opponent despite her severe disadvantage. She carried out her trainer's orders even though there were multiple opportunities for her to have improvised. She could've dodged quite a few of the attacks, but ended up drinking from the fire hose in more ways than one when Trevor insisted she attack anyway.
By the end of the match, the Rabbot was down for the count, blowing bubbles in the puddles that the Drizzile had formed.
"Well, we're doomed," Bronze said as his trainer went to collect that drenched loser.
"No, we're not," Isobel said, kneeling down to his level. "Not if you're willing to listen to my advice."
"But how can you? He's still my trainer."
"Well, I've worked around it before, and it's fine as long as you work within the rules. You've just gotta have confidence that it'll hit."
"But…" Bronze sank to the floor. "I… I don't…"
Nil withdrew his Drizzile and smiled. "Well, one to zero. I hope your Thievul can compare."
"Shut it." Trevor stomped his foot on the turf, signalling Bronze to come to his side. Isobel expected him to give a pep talk, but Trevor just pointed to the arena, leaving Bronze to enter the fray on his own. As he walked, his tail dragged behind him on the wet floor.
Next up on the opponent's team: a Frosmoth, whose presence spread a bitter cold to the air. Isobel flinched at the sudden chill. Bronze was lucky he had fur covering him, but not so lucky that he was outmatched in terms of typing. She predicted it would turn out the same as the last fight if she just stood there and watched.
The fight started at the blow of the whistle. Trevor commanded Bronze to swipe forward with a sucker punch. The Frosmoth flew back and blew a frosty spell at the puddles, instantly turning them to ice. Too late to stop running, Bronze slid across the surface. Trevor started swearing, then pulled himself together.
"Get up! Get up!" he shouted. "Go around the ice and try again!"
The Frosmoth didn't even give Bronze a sporting chance. She flew up, beating her wings to cast clouds around it. Then, she disappeared. Bronze stood still, trying to find heads or tails of his opponent.
Then, the whole arena went misty, covering Nil and the other half of the audience. Isobel crossed one pair of arms, trying to shield herself from the cold.
"J-just," Trevor chattered, "j-just go in there, slash at anythin' that moves! Do it!"
Bronze cocked his head at Trevor.
"Just do it, you—"
Bronze whimpered and flung himself into the misty fray. Crap, this was bad. All Isobel saw was Bronze flailing wildly at nothing, as if batting at the mist would've made it disappear. But where was the Frosmoth?
"Now!"
The Frosmoth emerged by Nil's command and planted her fangs into Bronze's shoulder. He screamed, slipping and sliding as he tried to shake off the biting bug.
Isobel's heart sank. It was never pleasant to see a teammate go through such pain for their trainer, or be on the receiving end of it herself. But this… what was this even for? Some guy's attempt to get imaginary internet points? Fake crap like this was why she left the league in the first place, though it was all a big lie to begin with. A sham to get dumb kids to go on a railroaded journey so the marts and leagues can keep making money off of them.
But you liked it, didn't you? So who are you to say what's fake?
She shook her head, snapping herself out of her daze. The Frosmoth had backed away at least, though it left Bronze with a slight limp as he walked to his trainer for the next move. Trevor was about to open that stupid trap again. She couldn't let that happen.
"Hey!" she called in her own tongue. Bronze glanced at her, followed by a glare from Trevor. She didn't care what his reaction would be as long as the other side didn't see what was going on through the fog. It's not like Trevor would've understood anyway. "Ignore that dunderhead, just follow my lead."
Bronze frowned. "B-but—"
"Play along for now, but listen out for my commands as well."
"C'mon, Bronze!" Trevor yelled, "just go back in there and keep attackin'!"
Bronze looked to Isobel once more and nodded, entering the arena. He stood still, awaiting her advice.
"Listen out for that Frosmoth. You're not gonna get anywhere if you just go in blindly. She'll probably want to bite you again. Once she gets close, bite her back, then see if you can plant your scent on her. That way, you can track her."
"Don't just stand there," Trevor interrupted, "sicc that moth!"
Bronze glared at his trainer, then stuck his tongue out at him before turning back to focus on the battle, ears perked up.
"Hey," Trevor growled, wagging a finger at Isobel, "what the hell are you playin' at?"
Isobel made a mouth-zipping motion and shrugged. Trevor's face scrunched up even more at that, though she ignored him for now. Bronze lay still, listening. His tail lightly swished behind him. Then his ears twitched. He leapt forward, swiping as the Frosmoth emerged from the mist.
He knocked her to the floor. Trevor stopped staring daggers at Isobel and watched as Bronze pounced on the Frosmoth, trying to get a bite in. She pelted him in the face with a bit of snow and flew off again, disappearing into the mist. However, Bronze didn't stop. He correctly picked out her position and swiped at her with another successful hit.
"It's working!" Bronze shouted gleefully. Isobel smirked at that as Trevor stepped back. Perhaps that put him in his place.
The mist weakened and the Frosmoth could no longer hide behind the arena's environment. She reverted to her original strategy of covering the floor with ice as Bronze tried to get another hit. Instead of sliding across the floor like before, though, he dug his claws into the frozen surface, using the traction to slow down.
Incredible. She didn't even have to coach him that time; that initial spark was all he needed to carry the match on his own. Adjusting his trajectory, Bronze leapt for the Frosmoth, using the ice to generate more speed.
"Change of plans," Nil yelled. "Bug Buzz!"
"Cover your ears!" Isobel yelled as she cupped the sides of her head. Bronze flopped onto the ice as he pawed at his ears, but he was already close to the Frosmoth.
They screeched, making everyone else in the arena flinch at the cacophony. It lasted for a few seconds, then stopped to Isobel's relief, but not to Bronze. As he got up, he wobbled from side to side, struggling to keep himself standing. If her own ears were ringing at that, she couldn't have imagined what it was like for Bronze.
Trevor didn't have any insightful comments this time, not that he was a wellspring of good ideas, instead using the opportunity to record the battle with his phone. The Frosmoth was flying straight towards Bronze. Crap. Crap crap crap.
Despite his weakened state, Bronze started running, using the slippery ice to gain speed. His movements were erratic; it was a wonder he didn't slip again. In response, the Frosmoth darted from side to side, throwing him off even more. Isobel knew what he was trying to do, though it would've taken some luck for Bronze to pull off. The two got closer. Two big Pokemon about to collide with one another. Bronze raised his paw, spun in the air, and threw a sucker punch at the Frosmoth's fuzzy body.
It hit, knocking her to the fence on the other side. She had no strength left to fly anymore. And with that, she laid still as Nil went to comfort her. Unlike his opponent, Trevor didn't join in to celebrate his Pokemon's well earned victory, turning the phone to the rest of the arena as he started recording again.
"Wasn't that badass, my Vullies? Don't mess with T-Vul, y'all!"
Unbelievable. Isobel's hands twitched, tempted to snatch the phone off him and seismic toss it into the sky. Not congratulating Bronze was bad enough, but Trevor taking all the credit? It was exactly why she left to get away from this nonsense.
"H-hey," Bronze said, snapping Isobel out of her funk. She knelt down to stroke his head.
"Sorry you got roughed up out there," she said, glaring at the clout-chasing trainer, "and all for that guy."
"I know." He rested his head on her knee, happily taking the ear scritches. "But this is the first match I've won in ages, so thanks. You're a good coach."
"A good coach?" She had heard that before, both from Gloria and her teammates. Not that she did much here in the grand scheme of things, but she smiled and patted his head. "I guess I am."
Bronze sat out on the other end of the arena. Now it was Isobel's turn to join in the fun. And just in time for Trevor to stop recording on that lame phone of his and come up to her.
"Look, whatever you tried to pull with him, knock it off with this next match. I'm your trainer, you follow my lead."
He wasn't her trainer. If her lips weren't sealed, she would've called him all sorts of off-colour names. She had a few human curses up her sleeve. But she relented and nodded. This would be the ticket to her paycheck.
With a sigh, she entered the arena, waiting for Nil to draw out the next Pokemon. Before the battle started, however, Isobel gave Bronze a thumbs up, who smiled for once. That cheer spread to her.
Instead of whipping out a Pokeball like he did in the previous rounds, Nil whipped out a phone instead, holding it up to his ear.
"Hello. Sorry to call out of the blue, but would you be able to come down to the Circhester Community Arena for a quick fight?"
Someone on the other end talked.
"Doesn't matter. Either way, it'll be my treat."
Trevor tapped his foot, looking at the referee who pretended not to notice him.
"Alright, deal. We're in arena 7." Nil put the phone back in his pocket and waited. A few seconds passed. Still nothing but dead air. Finally, Trevor snapped, about to stomp over to his opponent.
"What the hell do you think you're—"
Light flashed, and a Hatterene emerged from it to fill the void in the arena. The entire crowd fell silent at her release, and Isobel gasped. Even Trevor stood in stunned silence, and without a phone in his hand this time.
Hatterene weren't the kind to be messed around with. She had the psychic potency of an Alakazam, the emotion-detecting senses of a Lucario, and the wrath of a Gyarados. Even after all the battles she faced before, Isobel gulped at the sight of this emotionless banshee. Oh, wait, couldn't she have detected fear as well? Now what?
The Hatterene smiled. "You seem anxious. Maybe because I know a secret of yours." Before Isobel could respond, the Hatterene levitated to her trainer's side and waved a tentacle to the audience. "My name is Admirari. Not to worry, everyone. I can handle other people's emotions, no matter how intense. Isn't that right, Nil?"
She spoke as well? With that, the crowd dropped any sign of emotional restraint as they talked amongst themselves. Trevor just started filming. "What, my opponent's a talkin' Hatterene? What's up with that, my Vullies?!"
Unbe-freaking-lievable.
Admirari smirked, gazing at the two in the arena before levitating back to Nil. Even the way she carried herself in the air was regal, keeping her hat steady as she fluttered from one place to another.
"You expected me to appear out of the blue just for the sake of a fight?" she said with a sneer.
"Not usually." Nil said. "But even you like the odd match or two, don't you?"
"Why, yes." Admirari tilted her head. "That is the cross I bear as a Pokemon. But what's the point of this farce, anyway? You don't even need the money, do you?"
"Not particularly, no. But, well, do you know the sensation you get whenever we meditate in a deprivation tank for hours on end?"
"I don't need that nonsense to meditate. I can do it instantly."
"No, but whenever I do that, I am gambling a part of my own wellbeing to achieve enlightenment in some way. So, now it's come to this, one to one, so close to both victory and defeat..." Nil started chewing his nails, grinning with his eyes. Isobel didn't know why he didn't mention the bet, but she knew full well what was at stake.
Just before they entered the park, Trevor had mentioned that the bet between them was 40,000, making for 80,000 smackeroonies altogether. Isobel could've taken up driving lessons with that money. Maybe two months worth of rent. Maybe a flight to Alola. And Nil was willing to gamble half of it away because he had a kink about it. Goddamn rich people.
"Before we start," Admirari said, "can I have a little Machat with this Machamp?"
The referee nodded, and Nil did the same in turn, giving her the go-ahead.
"Where did you learn to talk?" Isobel asked, crossing both pairs of arms.
"Trainer. I asked for a private tutor and he paid. But never mind that, how about you?"
"Well, I learned from the—" Isobel grit her teeth. She would've said it involved the council's program in preparation for the PokeJobs opening, but she didn't need to dig herself a deeper hole. Damn psychics. "It's that obvious, is it?"
"Oh, you're like an open book." Admirari squinted. "You're covering for him, aren't you?"
Isobel looked to Trevor who stared at the two, though was none the wiser about their conversation.
"Don't rat me out to that trainer of yours," Isobel said. "I just want to pay for my flat."
"Hmm, fair enough. I just know for a fact that he wouldn't have a Machamp fall into his lap like that."
Why was this Pokemon on her case all of a sudden?
"I mean, it doesn't matter so much to me." Admirari tilted her head, glancing at Trevor. "I haven't known that trainer for that long and I hate him just as much as you do."
"Good, glad we've got something we can agree on."
"And in the end, I just want to play a beautiful game. So I will do you a favour." She turned back to her trainer. "May I suggest we both fight on our own terms, Pokemon to Pokemon? This Machamp seems capable."
"No," Trevor said, "I'm her trainer, I have the final say in what's going on."
"Ignore him." Nil earned a glare from the opposition for that one, but he pressed on. "It's your call, Admirari. I know you can carry the match by yourself, unlike that buffoon there."
"Hey, shut the fu—"
"No, you," the Hatterene butted in. "With an attitude like that, even without seeing a battle of yours myself, you do nothing to convince me you can put up a good fight with your training style."
"But yeah, you're a Pokemon, so you have no right to tell me I suck!"
"Says who?" She levitated to Trevor, towering over him as she looked down at the snivelling trainer. "Let me serve you a slice of the proverbial humble pie. There will be no room for trainers like you in the future, the way you continue. Us Pokemon know better by now, and Galar's better than ever for allowing more progress for us. So be a good boy and let the Machamp decide her own strategy as well."
Trevor backed away, putting his phone in his pocket. For the first time, he seemed rather flustered, like he'd come face to face with a bigger bully than he was. Served him right. The referee blew a quick whistle amidst this face-off.
"We've been seeing more of these types of battles, anyway. So go on."
"Y-yeah, alright, Isobel," Trevor said, "you're on your own now."
It didn't make her handicap against a psychic any better, but at least it would've given her the freedom to fight however she wanted.
"Thanks, I guess?" Isobel said to Admirari.
"You're welcome." Admirari levitated to her spot and made a little curtsy. "Even if the circumstances aren't so fun, I hope we can make the most out of this fight. Don't hold back, because I won't."
Isobel replied with a bow of her own, and she returned to her respective spot in the arena. She took a deep breath. She could do this. To prepare, she kicked her shoes off to the side, fully grounding herself on the arena's turf. She raised her arms, her hands curled into fists, and the balls of her feet bounced on the damp floor, still wet with the melted ice.
Inhale. Exhale. She remembered what Gloria told her ages ago. She didn't need flashy moves to succeed. Just her strength, endurance, and her reflexes.
The whistle blew. Purple lights flew towards Isobel like laser pointers. As she sprang back to her feet, another purple beam was approaching her. No time to plan a counter-attack. She ran as more Psybeams whooshed past her. Several frozen puddles lined a path ahead, leading to the arena's partition.
Isobel skidded to a stop before she hit the puddles, maintaining her balance. Yet Admirari was closing in, her tentacle almost in reach. Isobel focused her energy into a Heavy Slam and stepped forward, sliding across the slippery floor to bounce off of the partition's fence. Arms forward. Back arched. Feet off the ground. All of Isobel's effort focused into one attack.
Her forearms only grazed Admirari's hat before they got stopped. First, Isobel's arms froze, stuck in time, while the rest of her body was free, feet kicking the floor to try to pull back. Then the tentacle grasped her forehead, the frozen sensation spreading to the rest of her body. Isobel was immobile, like being encased in ice. Then time stopped. Admirari stood still, unblinking for what seemed like a minute.
You're not very smart, are you?
It was Isobel's inner voice, but not quite. It was distorted like it was being played through bass-boosted speakers submerged underwater. But why did this happen as soon as Admirari hit her?
You seem to attack through brute strength and not much else. It's a wonder you lasted in the league this long.
Her brain needed to shut up. But how were these her own thoughts? Why were they always so aggressive? What—
Time sped up and Admirari swung the tentacle forward, flinging Isobel across the arena. Isobel braced herself to land with a gymnastic's grace. She slid, barely managing to stop short of backing into the fence.
Isobel stuck the landing. She still went to her knees, though, trying to process what the hell had just happened.
That was all her. She didn't know if Admirari unlocked that inner voice of hers on purpose or if it was just amplified by the psychic voice. Whatever it was, she was sweating bullets, one hand on her moist forehead. This wasn't good.
Admirari raised her tentacle, about to strike again. Right, now wasn't the time to overthink things. Isobel stood, spitting on the ground before making her next move. Her shoes were by her side. Sure, it was below the belt, but it was still technically a move: Fling. With one swift motion, Isobel picked one up and lobbed it at Admirari. It missed, though not without stopping Admirari in her levitating tracks.
"A shoe, really?" she grumbled. "Please, have some class—"
Bonk! The heel of the other shoe struck that distracted Hatterene's face, stunning her. Isobel sprang forward. Admirari shook her head to recover. Isobel aimed a fist. The other raised her tentacle. Isobel struck first, socking Admirari in the jaw with a Mega Punch. She wound up for another, raising her other fist, ready to combo and hit… nothing?
Isobel tripped over her own feet, trying to regain her balance after whiffing that attack. Where did she—
"Crap," she whispered.
White light blinded Isobel. Her face was on fire. She stood still, rubbing her eyes as if chlorinated water had gotten splashed in there, but found no refuge. Another psychic wave blew her away, pinning her against the fence. Once wasn't enough for the Hatterene. The invisible force pulled her out and shoved her onto the grate again, and again, and again. Each hit knocked the wind out of Isobel's sails. She drifted in and out, trying to find a way out of this mess. The psychic force was impenetrable. Any attempts to resist were useless.
That isn't good enough, weakling. You used to be on top of things so long ago, and now you can't even fight back?
Her voice again. No, wait, how could it have been Isobel's? She wouldn't have beaten herself up like that, right? It was all that Hatterene's fault. Was she planning this all along?
How about we sift through some of your memories?
An invisible spoon stirred her brain like how Gloria used to stir the stew pot over the campfire. Wait, no, she didn't want to—
Isobel was back in the forest as a Machop, heartily slurping from the soup bowl with a smile on her face.
Then a freshly evolved Machoke, comparing her height with Gloria against a tree. Finally, she was taller than her trainer! Even if she couldn't speak the same language, Gloria picked up that she was proud of her size.
Then she was a Machamp again, except in a different place, sharing a beer with her trainer as they overlooked Circhester from the mountains. Gloria had picked up a six-pack once she had turned 18 and let Isobel have some. She was cool like that. That and Machamp were one of the few Pokemon that had the stomach for it, but that was beside the point. Although they didn't see as much of Circhester as they hoped, one day, they promised that one of them would see all the sights it offered.
You have all these good memories, yet you threw these away, and for what? So you could fight for a trainer you do not care for and for an empty cause?
No, this wasn't happening. What right did some psychic have to get into her head like that? How dare she tell her how to live her life? It was hers to decide what she did with it, right? Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe Admirari was right. What was she doing there? Why put herself through this mess?
"Go on, Isobel!" Bronze shouted from Trevor's side. "Fight back!"
Those words awakened something within Isobel. She opened her eyes, able to see again, though the world spun around her while she was still under the effects of the psychic spell. She forced her mouth open despite the invisible barrier.
"Shaddup—"
Oh-hoh, don't deny it. Admit it, you had a purpose back when all you did was fight. Just like the others, it scratched your back whenever you pounded the shit out of another Pokemon. Your trainer gave you that extra push. She supported you, taught you about the wider world. Then you didn't want to be with her anymore once you got enough of a taste for the league, just one badge away from leading her to completing her journey.
Isobel stayed silent for now, putting all of her mental energy into her fists. They shook, however slightly, but that was enough to know the barrier wasn't invincible.
Then somehow, you knew you wanted a change, but you didn't know what. Then you decided you wanted to live on your own like the other humans did. Like a few of the other Pokemon here started to do. You didn't want to be a Yamper sniffing after your trainer's scent anymore.
Each intruding thought weakened Isobel, clouding her vision. She couldn't give up, though. Yet moving through the telekinesis was like swimming through jelly.
But why are you here now? What reason do you have to live other than acting the lone wolf? You waste away your days on pointless entertainment and the bottle when you're not working, and when you are working, your mind's in another place. You don't even want to be there. Why sell yourself out?
Isobel grit her teeth, breathing in and out, in and out, trying to keep focus. First, her hands shook. Then her arms. Then the rest of her body trembled. She was almost there, she could feel it.
Even behaving like another human is just an act for you. You're still that same Yamper, chasing after another dream humans gave you. You have no ideals as an individual Pokemon. You have no identity, even less than a trainer's Pokemon. You're no one. You're nothin—
"SHUT UP!"
Isobel's fists broke through, throwing a quadruple Mega Punch at Admirari's chest. The Hatterene fell back, coughing and panting. The psychic force had lifted. Despite her exhaustion, Isobel pounced onto her, pinning her to the ground with one set of arms, ready to pound her face in with the other.
"You dare…"
Admirari winced and her face morphed into another Pokemon's, from a Hatterene to some horrid mix between a Machamp and a Grimmsnarl. The Grimmsnarl's fangs poked through the Machamp's cheek, grown like mutations. It was a monster, yet the Machamp half looked just like Isobel. But this wasn't her. It was—
Isobel punched again, pounding at the hybrid on the floor. Punch, pound, smack. Every fist thrown at that thing's face brought back memories, good and bad. Times spent partying after winning a gym battle. Times spent wandering through the routes at night alone when Isobel didn't know what to do with herself. Dancing with that Hitmontop when she found her groove. Shouting at the same Pokemon when he didn't respect her personal space. Feeling alone even though she was together with the group. Feeling like something was missing even though she had everything before her. Feeling like she stood in her trainer's shadow whenever she won. Not being able to express to her trainer how she felt or what little she understood about her own emotions.
She didn't stop. She wanted to, yet deep down, it activated that part of her she didn't want to admit: that urge to fight. That warmth inside her. Why did she pretend not to like this feeling? Asserting her power over a weaker being gave her such a rush. But she didn't want this. This gut feeling that she had to fight. She wasn't a monster. She was her own Pokemon. She had agency. She didn't make it this far to make it on her own just to give into her instincts, right? Right?
What are you even doing here, Isobel? You don't belon—
The referee's whistle blew. Isobel came back to reality. Admirari lay before her, crumpled on the floor, back into a Hatterene. Her senses must've been scrambled by the psychic attack.
"Alright, the match is over! Trevor here is the victor!"