King turned away from the arena, tossing his Pokeball up and catching repeatedly. The sounds of cheering faded behind him with each echo of his footfalls in the long metal hallway. He grinned to himself; he'd won another battle and was now one of the four that had progressed into the semi-finals. He was doing it. He really was doing it. He'd started to question why he had ever doubted himself. All the others barely so much as strategized: they threw their Pokemon out and hoped for the best.
He buckled the Pokeball at his waist, next to several empty ones - he'd had enough in his bank account for their small price - and moved from the arena hallway into one of the waiting rooms. A few of the participants who'd lost still lingered, some even going as far as to shed tears. King shook his head, passing one of the tables where they were allowed to sit while idling before a match. Crying wasn't going to get them anywhere. If had they relied on their logic, instead, or controlled their emotions a little more; then they might have made it farther than the second round. All they could do now was learn from their errors, but King doubted they would. Most people hated to admit when they'd made a mistake.
Before he could leave the room, a girl stepped in front of him; arms crossed below her chest. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than he was, but she raised her nose at him like she was ten feet tall and ten times better than him. She had raven-black hair let loose around a pretty face, and such a strong scent of fruity perfume radiating off her that he figured she wore the equal of what Terrance had in cologne. He blinked. He had watched both of her battles, and based on those; she had a right to be confident: she was one of the only other ones who used strategy.
He wrinkled his nose. "Uh, Vanessa, right? You need something from me?"
"No, not particularly," she grunted. "I wanted to meet the man I'll be facing in the final round. You're not much up close, however."
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Ah, I don't know what you were expecting: most of the greatness is up here." He tapped his temple. "At least you've noticed that none of these other people know what's going on."
She matched his smile. "Yes, indeed. Let me give you a small tip. The brains behind our tournament here have decided the final match will be a double battle. They're going to announce that after the semi-finals, but I'm letting you know early."
"Yeah? What's the motivation for you to do that?"
She shrugged. "I merely want the final match before I win to be exciting. You will need to catch another Pokemon besides that zorua, and have the time to train them." She started to walk away even before she'd finished speaking.
King followed her with his eyes as she stepped into another group's conversation. Even if she was lying, he could still benefit from an extra Pokemon. The forests outside Vertress had plenty to choose from, or so he'd heard.
He walked from the waiting room, out into the arena hallways, then into the blazing midday sun. He rolled up his sleeves and ran a hand through his red hair, scanning his surroundings. Groups of people walked this way and that, the sounds of their chatter filling the air. The smells of food coming from various stalls and stores hung in the area. In the distance, a line of trees surrounded the city. He headed in that direction, hands in pockets.
Vanessa used a whimsicott and a venipede: both of which she'd revealed in previous matches. A flying-type or a fire-type would be super-effective against both, but there wasn't any guarantee that she didn't have other Pokemon that could counter either typing. Vanessa was right; the two of them were going to battle, provided they didn't in the semi-finals. She had seemed so assured that they wouldn't, though. Either way, they were the two that relied on logic instead of luck or even pure-strength. That was enough to guarantee their spots in the finals. Still, while a flying-type would be extremely useful against her known Pokemon, they were both also super-effective against zorua. That would be a tough challenge to overcome.
He stepped to the edge of the tree line. The wind sighed through the leaves. Yes, because of Vanessa, winning the tournament would be difficult, but he would win. He had to win. No matter what.
He pushed past branches and through curled-up bushes, striding into the forest. Sunlight trickled past the canopy, splaying down onto the tangled underbrush. As he progressed further inward, he tuned his ears to the calls of Pokemon, listening for which was which. He heard mostly grass-types like pansage and the occasional sound of something like venipede. A few times, he detected the high-pitched, squealing alarm of a pidove, or a squawk from a ducklett, probably coming from a nearby lake secluded inside the trees. Neither was what he wanted: pidove wasn't strong enough - it was, at best, mediocre, even when evolved to a unfezant - and ducklett a water-type. He needed something better if he'd stand a chance against Vanessa.
Then he heard it: the call of a rufflet.
Right before it dived for his head.
He stumbled backward, cursing. His back hit a nearby tree. The rufflet flapped its wings as if challenging him, all while squawking its head off. Looks like the answer to my prayers comes in the form of this feathered killer.
It lunged for him. He rolled out of the way, groping at his waist. Dirt stuck to the fabric of his clothing, smearing over his knees and arms. He snatched the right-most Pokeball: zorua's, and chucked it in the air.
It appeared in a flash of light, hopping onto the ground. The rufflet's attention immediately went to it, and zorua's face lit up like a kid who received a big basket of candy.
Ooh, a fight! Wow! What is it? Looks tough to me, sir!
"No time," King called. "Dark Pulse!"
You got it!
Zorua flipped backward into the air, facing rufflet. He built a Dark Pulse and let it loose in a stream of swirling energy the color of an inky black night sky.
Rufflet dodged. Streams of white light began to whip and spin around it as it flapped its wings harder. Shit. Aerial Ace. No way zoruas going to be able to dodge that.
His Pokemon landed, eyes wide. The rufflet became a blur of speed, crashing into zorua, flinging it into the trunk of a tree. It hit with a crack and a nipped howl, then fell into a pile of leaves.
"Zorua," King said. "Come on. Get up."
Right, sir. I can fight, It said, wobbling to its feet. Don't worry. I'm good enough. I can fight!
Rufflet's wings began to glow. It was preparing another move: Wing Attack.
"Then prove it!" King said. Rufflet dove toward zorua, who gritted its teeth and planted its feet. "Foul Play!"
It vaulted over one of the rufflet's wings. It grabbed the bird's neck-fur in between bared teeth, then whipped its head, spinning. Leaves flew, whirling into the air as zorua slammed rufflet against the ground. It didn't move.
King smiled in satisfaction as zorua landed. He unhooked one of the empty Pokeballs and cast it at the rufflet, watching as the device pulled it in and snapped shut.
It shook once. Zorua balked at him.
Wait, sir! You're catching it? You didn't tell me that!
King crossed his arms at it. "You didn't think you were going to be my only Pokemon, did you?"
It bounded over to the Pokeball after its third shake, baring its teeth at the red and white ball. No! Don't work! Come on; you can do it! Escape! Come on, bird!
King raised an eyebrow. The Pokeball clicked, and zorua's ears slumped in disappointment. King walked over, bent down, and grabbed the Pokeball in one hand.
"What's wrong with having another Pokemon?" He asked, tossing the Pokeball and catching it.
Zorua turned away from him. Nothing!
He shrugged. "At any rate, let's meet him." He dropped the Pokeball next to zorua, and rufflet appeared, head cocked. Zorua stalked up to it.
Hey, you listen! I was our sir's first Pokemon, so that means that he likes me better! Capeesh?
Rufflet narrowed its eyes.
Mhm. That is right! You just-
Rufflet pecked zorua in the forehead. King sighed as the fighting between them progressed into a brawl. He didn't particularly care what relationship his Pokemon had with one another - they were animals, not humans - but it would be hard to get any training done with zorua continually picking a fight. He returned it to its Pokeball, and rufflet blinked, then turned to him.
"Come on," King said. "Let's see what other moves you've got in your arsenal. There are plenty of pansage around for you to practice on."