-6-
The First of Many
Enjoy!
The air was chilly that day.
The sun was out, shining over Viridian City, the morning fog slowly dissipating and unveiling the trees surrounding the city. It ran a chill up his back.
His Braviary, as strong and fierce and daring as he was, shivered slightly in his sleep. Falkner couldn't help but chuckle. Braviary hated being caught in moments like that, but thankfully he was asleep, and wouldn't have an attitude with him for the day.
So he hoped.
His Noctowl was fine in the cold. She, as was the case for most of her species, were built for the rigid, frosty climates of the forest - especially in the autumn or winter times. Her babies, six in total, were snuggled cutely under her wing.
Falkner, for all of his worth, wouldn't even glance Archeops' way.
That Pokémon was nutty.
But, Falkner still loved him, despite his… aggression. Archeops was very protective of his 'flock'.
After setting a nice brew going - Hoenn's own Yatta beans, a rather bitter and harsher blend than usual coffee beans - with a dash of caramel in the roast, Falkner knew that today was going to be a rather easy day.
His first match of the day, if he remembered the name and his system correctly, was a kid named Vincent… Blaine? Train? Something like that.
Anyways, he had a Machop, and an Oddish. Both Pokémon, weak against his gym?
Sitting inside his house, the sliding glass door slightly blurred from the morning residue, he watched as his Pidgeot wrestled a bit with his Pelipper.
Oh yeah, easy indeed.
Falkner jangled his keys, sliding open the backdoor to his gym, slipping in and traversing through the dark, as he had every morning for the past five years. Step after step, he walked through his normal routines, and without thinking twice, flicked the power box on for his gym.
In a row, all the lights out in the main hall, where the battles took place, flickered into existence, and with a loud yawn, he stretched to himself, reaching for the stars. With a few flashes of crimson, his actual team, nine of the strongest Flying-types in the entire region popped out, cawing and filling the room with a cacophony of shrieks and hisses.
"Ah, quit your yapping, we have another hour. I'll go get the food, go fly and stretch."
On his way to the gym storage, where he kept a surplus of food, medicine - whatever was needed - he unlocked the door, so his assistants and whoever else, such as the trainers under him, could come and go as they needed.
As his birds shrieked their fucking heads off in the back, dancing in the air in an ugly mesh of clanging sounds on his eardrums, Falkner signed to himself.
"And there are some people who actually want to be a gym leader."
"Hey Vincent, would you think about being a gym leader?"
The two were lathering up Sparky. The Mareep would 'baa' and shake herself occasionally, and she had a rather grouchy look on her face, but otherwise she wasn't putting up much resistance.
Her pelt was thick, and Vincent would need to take her to a professional groomer and get her trimmed, fit and proper, but otherwise she was in perfect condition. Well, she was a little chunky.
That would sort itself out over time.
Vincent untangled a knot in Mareep's hair and continued to rub the shampoo in. Sparky baa'd again.
"I think I wouldn't be happy staying in one place all the time."
Malcolm scrubbed a bit, shifting his hand to avoid a half-hearted chomp. "And why is that?" His tone was inquisitive.
"I don't know, I just think - pass me the sponge - I just think I'd want to explore the world, y'know? See what the regions have to offer. I couldn't just tie myself down like that."
He handed him the sponge.
"Well, being a gym leader wouldn't mean you can't travel, you know that, right?" Was the response Malcolm gave. Mareep shook her body, pellets of water flying everywhere.
Vincent wiped away a bead that hit his eye, and shook his head. "Yeah, but I'd have to follow the League hours and all that boring shit, and then I wouldn't be happy. I'd rather just travel by myself, on my own time, y'know?"
Fair enough, Malcolm supposed.
"Why are you asking?"
Malcolm's mind flashed back to the words that the Monk had told him. What gives his life meaning…
Was it battling?
Not quite, seeing as he had only been in one, singular real fight, wild or supervised.
Was it traveling?
Jury is still out on that one.
Was it tutoring the next generation?
Malcolm had been a history tutor for sixth and seventh graders before he graduated middle school, and while it was nice that he helped younger kids get good grades, he couldn't exactly call it 'fulfilling'.
In essence, he supposed he'd have to travel a bit more and experience life a bit more, before making a definitive answer.
"Just wondering. What time is it?"
Vincent craned his neck and looked at his phone nearby, flailing his arm and trying to touch the screen. Finally, he tapped it.
"One in the afternoon on the dot."
"Thank you. I think I'm coming home with a Gastly tonight."
At that, Vincent chuckled softly, his voice lost at the moment. Mareep stared up with her big, brown innocent eyes at Malcolm, who patted her head in comfort. Nobody said anything at that, and not even Sparky was making any noise, opting to continue the bath in peace, hopefully getting it over sooner, rather than later.
The trees were spread out, and a few patches of dry dirt jutted out from the normally even grasswork that decorated the ground.
Malcolm sat in front of the pokéball that contained Mankey. It was resting on the ground in front of him, idly, while he thought of what to say.
Mankey was an interesting one.
Besides training, he hadn't actually spent a lot of time with the creature, although he supposed that was his fault. The creature wasn't interested in having a nickname, and the few attempts Malcolm had at seeing if it had any quirks was ultimately futile. Mankey liked fighting, bananas, and occasionally, walnuts.
That was it.
The main issue was that connecting with his Pokémon would be harder and harder as time went on, as his team grew. He spent some time with Gligar already, before going on his journey, so the foundations of a good relationship are already built.
But for Mankey? This was immediately different. Mankey respected strength, and Malcolm didn't have much to go off yet, in terms of accomplishments. Mankey listened to him, and obeyed his commands (at least in training), but other than that? The monkey wasn't exactly warm with him.
Maybe, when given time, they would be the best of pals, but for the time being, they were associates.
Regardless, he was going to do his best.
A flash of brilliant scarlet broke through the air, and a fierce growl shook the dirt. Mankey hooted and hollered, before eventually settling down and glancing at his trainer.
"Hello, Mankey. I want to talk to you about the game plan for the next few gyms." Malcolm idly tossed the pokéball up and down. Mankey nodded.
"The first two gyms we are going against are Flying and Ghost oriented. Two types that, as I'm sure you are keenly aware of, you do not fare well against."
Mankey's eye twitched, but did not reveal anything. Malcolm sighed.
"I'll lay it on you straight. I will enter more battles besides gym battles. I'm talking tournaments, contests, anything of the sort. If you can manage the first two gyms, I promise you, I'll get you teachers, strong moves, anything I can to help you. But I need you to follow through with me until then. Can you try, for the team?"
It was quiet for a moment. Neither was willing to break the silence, a battle of wills, and Malcolm knew that breaking and showing hesitation would be essentially gutting the respect of his Fighting type.
Mankey stared at his trainer. Malcolm stared back.
Eventually, the monkey nodded its head, hesitantly, but accepting nonetheless.
Malcolm allowed a small smile.
"Great! Let's do some training. I left Gligar in the room, so it's just you and I today. I want to catch up on your progress. Let's start with Karate Chop, I want you to strike a little quicker…"
9:24, P.M.
Malcolm found himself, once more, in the halls of the Sprout Tower, his water bottle next to his right shin, and his chin in his palm. His eyes shifted constantly, pacing the walls and the support beams. A sigh escaped his lips.
Arriving roughly half an hour before, he took his usual spot. For the past few days, Gastly and himself had this little back and forth thing going, and Malcolm was tired of it. He wanted his Gengar, damn it!
Sitting on his stool (that wasn't there the previous night), he waited patiently.
Well, almost patiently.
His book of choice to pass the time - The Ages of Iris, a young adult dark fantasy novel focusing on the Unovan ancient pantheon - was beginning to slip his attention. It was interesting, sure, and a worthwhile venture that he'd finish soon enough, but he wanted that ghost in his balls.
Wait-
Malcolm sighed to himself and closed the book. His mind was deteriorating with all of this waiting. Once again, the words of the elder monk drifted in his skull, bouncing around and plaguing his thoughts.
What gave him meaning?
Well, it certainly wasn't waiting around for something to happen.
Suddenly, with no warning, he stood up.
"Hey, Gastly! If you can hear me, I want to talk! Please! No tricks, I promise!"
And, with that, he sat back down.
So he'd wait. And so it went.
Malcolm shivered, and saw his breath in the air. It wasn't that chilly a moment ago, and in fact, it was a rather nice temperature just a mere second past. So what gave? A chill ran up his back. Also, it smelled faintly like candy?
Then, he felt it.
A small, purple orb slowly began to phase through the ceiling, and he saw it from the corner of his eye. It began to form, and two eyes popped out of the ceiling, staring down at him. The Gastly descended in front of him.
"No tricks, Gastly."
The Gastly continued to stare at him. It wasn't smiling, but it wasn't mugging him, either. It was just staring.
Nodding to the ghost, Malcolm shifted his body on the stool. They both gave the other their full attention. And Malcolm, unable to contain it, giggled, before he chuckled, before breaking out into a full laugh. Gastly couldn't contain her confused stare.
Finally, after roughly twenty seconds of the boy laughing to himself, he stared at the Ghost in front of him. Wiping a tear from his eye, he calmed himself down.
"Whew, I- I'm sorry about that, it was just," he glanced at his lap, looking for the next words to say. "I just remembered the prank you did on me the first night. It was funny, looking back on it."
Gastly stared, before giggling herself. She supposed it was pretty funny, and she was glad the human in front of her found the humor in it she had. The boy had gotten his revenge, sure, but it was all in good fun, and the fact that he was playing around with her meant he didn't take himself too seriously, either.
She could appreciate that.
"Gastly, I'm gonna be honest. I've wanted a Gengar my whole life, from the moment I wanted to be a trainer. I want you to travel with me."
And there it was. The million dollar question.
Gastly stared at him, pondering it. The Gengar line, as powerful as they were, had a tendency to be glass cannons, so to speak. Monstrous, titanic offense and piss poor defense.
It was a balance.
Malcolm could tell the Pokémon was pondering it, and raised his hands to catch her attention.
"I must say, if you decide to stay, that's totally chill - er, fine, with me. I don't want to push you away or anything. If you do join, though, I have two Pokémon - a Gligar, and a Mankey. I'm not sure if you know what either of those Pokémon are, but they are my friends, and I'd like you to be a friend, too. Well, Vincent is also my friend, but he's not a Pokémon."
Reaching down, he took a sip of water, and let the ghost go back to pondering. The gaseous aura emanating from the creature in front of him shifted and curved idly. Gastly continued to stare at him.
"I'll let you think about it. I'm going to read my book, okay?"
Picking his book back up, he began once more, the Pokémon still floating in front of him. She shifted her glance from him, to the ceiling, most likely mulling things over.
This continued for a while. The night had fully settled in, and there were only a few moments of time left before the tower closed.
Malcolm continued to read. Literature was a funny thing, in his opinion. He read a decent amount of it in school, but his main focus was history and science, specifically biology and chemistry. He wasn't an expert, but he knew a thing or two.
Dark fantasy, specifically, was a personal favorite of his. It was more 'mature', often dealing with darker tones or themes, and this book was specifically about generational abuse and trauma.
Fun stuff.
Gastly, after a bit, formed a hand from her gasses, pushing the book down, drawing his attention. When he looked at her, she nodded, her eyes shining with confidence.
After all that, all Malcolm could do was grin, his eyes bright and his smile radiating. He nodded and fished for a Pokéball.
"I'm going to capture you, okay? Is that fine, Gastly?"
Suddenly, she shook her head… her body… her head and her body, 'no'.
Malcolm frowned in thought. "The only way to join is the Pokéball-."
And she shook her head again, leaving him confused.
Were there alternatives to the Pokéball? He knew in older times that Pokémon would just travel around in packs with their trainers, like a marauding group, but those times had come and gone…
What could he do?
"She's not upset about the Pokéball," a new voice announced, and both Malcolm and Gastly turned to stare at the newcomer.
"She wants a name. Not just 'Gastly'. An actual name."
Oh! Both Gligar and Mankey passed on names, so he hadn't actually considered that. That made sense. It was new, and a surprise, but a welcome surprise all the same.
The Gastly nodded in appreciation and turned to stare at Malcolm again.
"Hmm… 'Shadow'?"
If the Gastly could roll her eyes, she would have. How cliche.
"Spectre?"
No.
"Reaper?"
The monk coughed, and Malcolm glanced over. Sighing softly, the man turned to Gastly, and stared for a moment. Then, he turned back.
"She wants something a little more… personal. Inspired. Less generic."
That elicited another frown…
Something less generic…
His eyes wandered, and glanced at the book on the ground.
Something inspired…
"Oh, wait! Gastly, in the book I read, there is a character named… and she's the primordial Goddess of darkness and night! Can I name you that?"
The Gastly thought about it. It was certainly a more inspired name. However, it was a little… grandiose. Excessive. But! She could appreciate excessive.
The Gastly nodded. And, with that, she tapped the Pokéball still in his hands, and got sucked in.
One click.
Two clicks.
Three.
"Congratulations, Malcolm." the monk said, smiling at the boy who was staring at the ball in his hands. "And here I thought you'd never get to it."
Malcolm nodded, his mind blank, staring at the Pokéball. He had done it! His third Pokémon!
The monk sat next to him, on the ground. The two sat in silence.
"May I say goodbye to Gastly? A moment of privacy? It will be rather emotional, after all."
Malcolm nodded, and released his Pokéball, handing it to the man and walking to the entrance. That was a reasonable request.
He stepped outside and felt the air. It was chilly, but it was a pleasant kind of chilly. It wasn't uncomfortable, and he could remember the nights as a child, playing tag with his younger sisters in their backyard, the frost bitten air around them nipping at their heels.
The laughs, the smell of hot chocolate brewing from their house, and, above all, the bruises and dirt marks on their shins and knees from tumbling around in the grass.
Smiling to himself, he stared at the moon.
What a beautiful night indeed.
Hell, he even kinda missed staying at home.
Almost.
The gym badge was still up for grabs, but he was confident he'd walk away with it by the end of the week. They had only been there… three? Four days now? Damn, where did the time go?
Then, he'd go home, chill with his family for a bit, and, hopefully, hike over to Ecruteak City, and beat up whatever leader stood in his way.
Yes, that sounded glorious.
Soon enough, the monk walked out, the Gastly following him. The two looked no different, but the air was different. An air of peace. Familiarity. Of closure.
"This isn't goodbye, you know that right? I'll be back when she's a Gengar."
Gastly gave a smile, a genuine smile, and floated over to Malcolm. The monk handed him the Pokéball, and the two stared. "Take good care of her, Malcolm."
"I will, sir. I promise."
Gastly was no longer Gastly.
More accurately, no longer just Gastly. She had a name now, instead of just a species.
She was now Nyx, Malcolm Payne's Gastly.
And she was happy.
"Her name is Nick?" Vincent said, watching as the floating gas orb rattled in front of a curious Mareep, who took a sniff before attempting to lick the ghost. Nyx giggled (which sounded weird) and floated just out of range of the sheep.
The other Pokémon - at least, Gligar and Machop - were asleep, not aware of the new entry, while Mankey had taken one inquisitive sniff and walked away, not bothering over the newcomer. He just wanted to grow stronger.
Oddish was planted deep in a plant bed. As she usually was.
Malcolm coughed slightly at that. "Nyx, like 'Nick' with an 'S' at the end. It was the goddess of night in ancient Unova, and I felt it was appropriate."
The Gastly in question continued to hover over Sparky, and would float down just near Mareep, who would attempt to jump up and nibble at the ghost, and Nyx would immediately rise back up, and they continued this back and forth.
Lick. Confuse Ray. Hypnosis. Payback. These were the only four moves that Nyx knew. Her ability was Levitate, meaning she could fly and avoid a lot of ground based attacks. He had checked it before entering the room, wanting to get an idea of how he would be fighting Falkner when the time came. His best bet was to lead off with Gligar, and put Nyx in when the Pokémon fainted in battle. Mankey would be sitting this one out. And the next one as well, unfortunately.
"Room is getting kind of small with all of us out, don't you think? You think we could ask for a bigger room in the next city?"
Watching as Nyx nearly knocked over a generic hotel painting on the wall, the frame wobbling on its nail in the wall, and Mareep's tail almost tangling with an electric chord, Malcolm couldn't help but agree.
It was worth a shot, anyways.
"Yeah, maybe."
The two lied down in their beds once more. The wind outside was breaking lightly against their window, and the two enjoyed the tranquility of it.
"So, hotshot, when are you going to fight Falkner? I already got my badge."
Malcolm shot up in his bed, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. Sparky whined in pride from… somewhere in the room, he wasn't sure where. Gligar's ear twitched idly.
Already got his badge? Since when- how- what?
When did he ever have the opportunity to get a badge?
If they weren't training, they were chilling or eating, he couldn't recall a moment where-
Wait.
"This morning?"
With a rather smug grin on his face, Vincent flashed him the badge - a silver, curved piece of metal, with faint etches of marks, and tucked it into his palm with a chuckle. "He was a mean bastard, and he was genuinely surprised at Sparky - I think the system didn't inform him of the newest Pokémon - but ultimately, we came out on top. I said he was mean, but I'm sure you could beat him without trouble, even if you have only fought once."
Looking at Gastly, who was staring at a random corner in the room, Malcolm sighed. He supposed he'd go tomorrow and ask if he could schedule a battle. It was time to stop putting it off.
"You think I'll win?"
Vincent shrugged. The answer wasn't as clear cut as that, but if he had to guess?
"I think you'll manage."
"Hi, how can I- oh, you are that kid from the other day. How are you?"
The receptionist was the same, apparently. Good memory on her, too. Malcolm gulped and tugged on his shirt, trying to air it out a bit. Did he apply deodorant in the morning? He could have sworn he did.
Why was he so sweaty?
"Hi, uh, I'd like to slech- er, sorry, to schedule a gym battle with Fack- oh, I'm so sorry, with Falkner, please."
Good lord, he was sweaty and stuttering like a messed up vinyl, could this day get any worse? Malcolm supposed it could, actually. He could lose.
The receptionist raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on his stuttering. Turning her vision to her monitor, she typed for a moment, scanning the documents that popped up, thinking to herself. Malcolm waited with a held breath, unaware he was even keeping it in.
"Yes… well, he has two battle slots open, the first in his four-thirty slot, and the second in his five-thirty slot. Do you have a preference, and how many badges do you currently possess?"
Malcolm checked his wrist watch. 11:21 in the morning. A few hours to prepare. A few hours to make adjustments, and get his Pokémon ready to fight. A few hours away.
"I'll take the four-thirty slot, please. And, uh, zero badges," he had whispered that part. "Thank you."
She typed in the info, and her printer booted up. Wordlessly, she tore the document from the printer and handed Malcolm the info. He glossed over it, before looking back at her.
"Check-in time is four to four-fifteen. If you arrive even a minute after four-fifteen, the reservation will be canceled, and you'll need to wait a minimum of one day before you can attempt to schedule again. Since this is your first badge, you will need a minimum of two Pokémon, but since I see three hooked onto your belt, I already put it in the system. Do you have any questions?"
Malcolm shook his head no, and the receptionist smiled at him, her pearly whites flashing momentarily. "I'll see you later then."
Nodding dumbly, he walked out, and it slowly began to sink in that this was it. There wasn't anymore putting it off, this would be his first real attempt at getting a badge. This was, officially, the real start of his journey. Of his story. No more thinking about it, or daydreaming in his stupid algebra class about if he'd have a Salamence or a Garchomp. This was it.
His time to shine had finally arrived.
And by God, he'd make the most of it.
On the walk back, Malcolm's mind was in a daze. He was in the shit now, so to speak. This was the big time. This was his destiny.
Letting the doors slide open, he walked to the training section and called his three Pokémon out. Gligar, Mankey, and Nyx all sat in front of him, looking up at the boy - their trainer.
"Alright, we got the gym battle today." So much for easing the three of them into battling. Straight into the fire, apparently. Not that it mattered much. If it was battling they wanted, they were sure about to get it.
"Gligar, you are point for this gym." Gligar didn't know what it meant to be "point", but all he knew was that he'd be participating in this gym battle, and his tail wagged in joy. Mankey hooted and hollered, and Malcolm knew that the next sentence wasn't going to be easy.
"And Nyx, you are the second one up."
With a careful eye, and ready to appease the gym rat - well, gym monkey - Malcolm watched as the metaphorical gears in Mankey's head began to turn, the brain fuel slowly beginning to realize what was just told.
Nyx grinned in pride, puffing her… gas, in self-admiration, floating gently off the floor. She looked ready to pounce.
Once Mankey realized that he would not be participating in this fight, it was actually rather better than Malcolm expected. The monkey looked pissed, sure, but he wasn't thrashing around and incredibly angry, but rather glanced curiously at his trainer. Malcolm figured he should explain his reasoning. However, he'd craft his explanation carefully.
"The gym is a Flying-type gym, and I want you to have a fair shake for your first real battle, instead of trying to hit an opponent you can't reach. I'll have you battling in upcoming battles, don't worry, just this one, you'll need to sit out."
He supposed Mankey was rather understanding of that.
Taking out his notebook, Malcolm glanced over his notes one more time.
"Gligar, I remember you climbing trees at my house. Do you think that can translate to rock?"
Gligar, with his tongue out to the side, pondered the question, before cheerily nodding the affirmative. Malcolm nodded and scribbled something.
"Right, so, you are the first one up. Falkner has this strategy where if his opponent hides behind one of the rock walls he has up, he'll fake them out up top before ambushing them from the side. I want to capitalize off that. Follow my signal in this fight, and we can take out the first Pokémon."
Once again, Gligar nodded, glee on his face, and Malcolm wasn't too sure if he even knew what his trainer was talking about. Regardless, he'd have to do just fine.
"Nyx, if and-or when Gligar is out of the battle, I want you to go in. Falkner doesn't really have a battle strategy for his second Pokémon, so we are just going to kinda… freestyle, so to speak."
The ghost grinned a sharp grin, baring her fangs. She was raring to go, and he knew it. Grinning to himself, Malcolm commanded them to stretch and warm-up, getting them ready for a light conditioning session before the gym.
Malcolm was ready.
Malcolm was not ready.
At least, he didn't feel like it.
After checking in at 4:02, the receptionist guided the boy to a waiting room, which would lead directly to the gym floor once his allotted preparation time was up. A red light was above the door that led to the arena, and the room itself was spacious, allowing his Gligar and Gastly to warm themselves up before they fought. Malcolm sat on a bench.
"Alright, alright, everything is fine. Gligar, you remember our strategy?"
Gligar nodded, his tail flicking back and forth on the ground.
"Nyx, you ready to scrap?"
She bared her fangs in a feral grin once again. His Pokéball with Mankey in it felt heavier than usual.
It was 4:24. He still had a few minutes to spare.
He could do this. Everything was alright. He would win, and then he would tell Vincent, and then his parents, and then walk home, and then get his TMs, and then be on his way to the next city.
Everything was fine.
4:26. Still a bit-
Ding!
The light had turned green. From red to green. Crimson to emerald. He could go in? Oh God, he could go in!
Without a word, he returned his Pokémon, and gulped silently.
Twisting the knob, he paused momentarily.
"It's alright. I can do this."
And, he opened the door.
Walking forward, Malcolm glanced towards the seats, hoping for nobody. Unfortunately, he saw a family of four, and a few stragglers. "Of all times to have a big audience." He murmured in annoyance, slightly under his breath, mainly to himself.
He traced the outline of Gligar's Pokéball, ready for the man to walk out of his end. No going back, this was it, do or die. No forfeiting, that much was certain.
Taking a calming breath, Malcolm waited patiently.
Or, as patiently as he could.
The stands were quiet, and he was grateful for that. He could hear his thoughts that way, try and plan a valid attack strategy, see if he could think of something on the fly.
Gligar was physically bulky, thanks to the tussles with Machop, and could take a bit of a beating before going down. If needed, Malcolm could leave him out there and let him soak up some hits and whittle the opponent down before Nyx came out to play.
Mentally plotting, he was shaken from his musings when he spotted Falkner walk out of his door, a calm, yet neutral appearance settled on his face. His eyes stared as he walked up to his side of the arena.
"Malcolm Payne, zero gym badges?"
Another gulp. "Yes."
"I have report that you are in possession of three Pokémon. Would you like this to be a three-on-three, or a two-on-two?" Falkner's voice didn't betray anything besides a calculated neutrality, and Malcolm couldn't help but feel he was being judged, despite the fact that the gym leader's job was to literally guide and teach those under him.
"Two-on-two, please."
Falkner nodded, and fished out a Pokéball from his shirt pocket. "As gym leader, I shall make first decision, and the challenger will then release their Pokémon. Is this clear?"
Malcolm nodded, and with that, a spark of crimson lit the grounds momentarily. A small, rather angry looking bird cawed into the air, its face vicious. The beak on it in particular looked rather sharp, and had a small glint on it.
"Spearow, use the winds as your weapon!"
With that, Malcolm unclipped his own, and sent it out. No catchphrase, this time around. He'd still have to work on that.
Falkner gave a low whistle of appreciation, glancing at the pink creature, the normally jovial Pokémon searing a look of determination on his face.
"A Gligar." Falkner said, immediately identifying the bat. Chuckling to himself, he allowed a small grin on his face. "My nephew has a Gliscor that trains with me occasionally, and I'll say, she's a rather feisty one."
With that small remark, the referee coughed, and Malcolm hadn't even noticed the man when he climbed up. His nerves were a little jumpy.
"This gym battle between challenger Malcolm Payne and gym leader Falkner will now commence. Each side has two Pokémon, and the win condition is defeating the other side's two Pokémon. Challengers, ready."
Spearow bared its fangs. Gligar hissed back, a drop of poison leaking onto the ground. Falkner remained passive, and Malcolm wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
This was it. All the training, all of the effort put in, the research, everything was leading up to this-
"Begin!"
Well, so much for that.
"Spearow, fly up!" Falkner commanded, and Malcolm recognized the tone. While Gligar didn't have an attack that would reach, he knew what was coming next. Gligar didn't move without command.
"Gligar, move behind the rock wall on your right. Be prepared."
Gligar hopped over and, once he was out of sight of Falkner, jumped and began to, as quietly as possible, scurry up the rock formation, trying to get as close to the top as possible.
Malcolm figured that Falkner was watching his eyes, so he kept them focused, switching from Spearow to where Gligar would be, if he was still grounded. This was good, this was good. His strategy was slowly beginning to take shape.
Falkner raised an eyebrow, and waited for another command, but when none came, he sighed and glanced at Spearow. "Air Force."
The bird gave a roar - as best as it could, anyways - and began to flap harder, elevating itself into the air, before beginning to fly over to the rockwall Gligar was climbing. Gligar had made it about three-fourths of the way up, and Malcolm knew that when Spearow landed, Gligar could fire off a Quick Attack, hopefully clipping the Pokémon in the head.
The Spearow landed, and Gligar waited impatiently, his tail beating against the rock, and the other bird's ear twitched once at this, and Malcolm began to worry that the Spearow would pick up on his strategy.
Fortunately, it didn't seem so, and he waited for the real fight to commence.
Hopping over to the edge, when Spearow looked over, he hadn't expected the Gligar to be staring back at him from such a short range, and before he could react-
Gligar sprung.
Using Quick Attack, albeit going against gravity, Gligar howled in fury and launched at Spearow, who gave an indignant caw and attempted to flutter away, only for the pink bat to crash into the bird and swipe at it, before the Spearow realized what was happening and began to peck at Gligar again.
One of Falkner's eyebrows raised this turn of events, and he quickly snapped out of his surprised stupor. "Shi- Spearow, shake off the Gligar and use Pursuit!"
Malcolm made a mental note of that play. Pursuit was more powerful if the Pokémon was fleeing - more like the attacking Pokémon was allowed more power momentum the longer it took to strike - so to throw the Gligar away and then use Pursuit was rather ingenious.
The Gligar and Spearow were still thrashing against each other, with Gligar refusing to let go as best as possible, but Spearow was furiously scratching and pecking at Gligar, and Malcolm realized he needed to call something out. "Gligar, Poison Sting!"
Despite his callout, the two Flying-types continued to hammer into each other on the pillar, and Malcolm was afraid that his Pokémon didn't hear him, until he saw the telltale sign of poison being built on the tip of Gligar's stinger.
Spearow was violently shaking its whole body, attempting to shake off the bat, but Gligar was tougher than that, and successfully sliced at the bird with his tail, but the bird made no sign of stopping its assault.
"Spearow, slam the Gligar into the ground below!"
Malcolm thought he was referring to the base of the pillar, but before he could think, Spearow was already jumping off of the pillar itself, and sent both itself and Gligar plummeting to the ground.
"Gligar, brace!"
Tensing his muscles instinctively, Gligar growled and attempted one last Poison Sting, before the two catapulted into the ground. The dirt in the ground shook with force, and Malcolm gasped, worrying for his friend.
A small dust cloud rose from the impact, and the entire arena was silent.
Malcolm stared in worry. The angle they landed was harsh, sharper than he expected, but his main concern was the stress that Gligar was putting on his body.
Wrestling with an overzealous Machop was good experience, but maintaining an assault, along with being pelted with multiple pecks from the one Pokémon species known for their dangerous pecks, along with crashing into the ground was a completely different ballpark.
"Gligar! Are you okay?"
It was silent for a moment. Idly, Malcolm noted that the crowd had also quieted down, apparently waiting to see the results of such a violent crash.
After what seemed like an eternity, a hiss exploded from the dust.
A hiss he recognized very dearly.
Gligar stood there, dirt and grime and scratches decorating his body, his tongue lolled to the side. Below him, eyes closed tight, laid his opponent. His tail wagged side to side, poison leaking from the tip.
"Spearow has been taken down! Gym Leader Falkner, please recall your Pokémon and send out the next challenger!"
A red beam of light hit the unconscious bird, and a momentary break in action occurred.
"I'm rather curious, challenger." Falkner voiced his first words in a while. "Spearow is particularly strong, especially in a physical altercation. And yet, your Gligar struck her down without too much of a fight."
The silent question was there, but another question immediately came to mind.
"You call that 'not too much of a fight'?"
Gligar hissed at the words as well, his tail holding in place at attention.
"Well, relatively speaking," Falkner said, his shoulders hunched in a shrug. "However, like I said, I'm rather curious. Not many trainers can handle a Spearow assault, especially trainers who are just starting out. You have trained that Gligar well."
"Well, truth be told," Malcolm replied, twirling Nyx's pokéball. "I have been traveling with a friend of mine, and his Machop likes to spar with Gligar. I got him used to scrapping up close."
Falkner's eyes narrowed, and his face scrunched very slightly. Another ray of crimson struck the field, and his next Pokémon had taken the field.
"Would that Machop happen to belong to one Vincent Kane? It was a little too good at grappling onto a flying type coming at him with speed."
Malcolm could only give a laugh, slightly abashed. He scratched the back of his head.
"Guilty as charged. I'm guessing a Machop grabbing onto one of your Pokémon left you a little surprised."
"A tiny bit. NatuNatu, propel your mind to victory!"
The Natu in front of him, apparently known as "NatuNatu", chirped and stared intently at the beaten up Gligar. It did not move.
"Kinda scary that Natu is just staring. Oh well."
"Gligar, buddy, do you want a breather?"
Gligar swiveled its head and gave a snarl, a sound that Malcolm could never imagine the creature creating. It was a stark contrast to the playfulness he had come to expect. Nevertheless, he had denied leaving the battle.
His plan of attack had to revolve around pivoting Nyx into the battle. He couldn't expect Gligar to defeat Natu, not after the fight he just experienced, so the next best step was setting up a favorable zone of combat for Nyx.
He hadn't had much experience with training the Gastly, but he was sure he could manage something.
"The next battle shall commence! Challengers, begin!"
"Gligar, Quick Attack!"
Gligar beat his tail and smashed his legs against the floor, rocketing his body towards Natu, who instinctively flew up into the air. The bat almost managed to tackle the psychic bird, but barely clipped one of its legs, causing the bird to scramble a bit and fly lopsided.
The bird narrowed its eyes, and before he could blink, a wave of pink energy exploded from the bird, immediately causing the bat to get knocked back, sliding with a loud crack across the floor.
Malcolm's eyes narrowed. Falkner hadn't called a command, but Natu was moving as if he had. It was one thing to fly into the air, but to unleash a move like that? On seemingly no sign? It was odd.
Natu took a dive and went for the bat, who was struggling to stand up. "Gligar, Poison Sting if you can!"
The tail started to secrete poison very slightly, but not much was working at the moment. Gligar glanced up at the bird and snarled under its breath. Most likely, knowing its fight was soon over.
The bird was intercepted just before it made contact, with Gligar crashing itself as a last ditch attack, the sickly tail being used as a hammer instead of a piercing weapon. A hoarse scream broke the air as Gligar threw itself once more, using an impromptu Quick Attack… or was it? Natu squaked in rather immense pain, throwing itself backwards.
The second attack seemed a little… different. Gligar was glowing a slightly different color than a Quick Attack, and it seemed to do a nasty bit of damage towards the psychic bird.
"I never expected that Gligar of yours to have a Dark-type move." Falkner drawled, his tone lazy. He appeared as if he was chewing a piece of gum, although he hadn't to start the battle.
Dark-type move? Malcolm mentally recanted the list. Harden, Quick Attack… Knock Off?
Knock Off!
"So he does." Malcolm said. The psychic bird shook the attack off, and before Gligar could continue his assault, the bird shrieked and sent another wave of energy. It crashed into the torso of Gligar, sending it flying back once more. He did not twitch.
"It appears as if Gligar is down for the count. An impressive specimen, surely tempered through strenuous training, if it took a beating like that."
The proctor's words were ringing in his ears, but they were not distinguishable for Malcolm. Instead, it just sounded like a mish mush of noise and syllables. The message was clear, though. Gligar was down, and Nyx was up.
As Gligar was returned, Malcolm whispered softly.
"Thank you, buddy. Get some rest."
This was it. What they had been training for. Nyx had only one training session with the team before being thrown into it, but that was okay.
He believed in her.
With a flash, the ghost floated to attention, her white eyes narrowing at the damaged bird, a mean spirited grin on her face. The bird didn't move a muscle, merely watching in what appeared to be curiosity.
"Nyx, Confuse Ray!"
A yellow beacon of light flashed through the eyes of Gastly, and Natu barely had time to close its eyes before the attack reached its vision. Gastly laughed at the apparent fear of the attack and started floating towards the bird on her own.
Falkner's eyes scrunched together slightly at the ghost, but revealed nothing else. "Stay calm, Natu. You can do this."
Taking a deep breath, the bird nodded and faced the ghost. Gastly paused and looked back at Malcolm.
"Nyx, we got them on the ropes, just do the strategies we went over!"
Natu decided to strike before Nyx looked back, spreading its wings and initiating the attack. As if it was a trap, Nyx spun back around and used its tongue, smacking the bird straight into the ground with a very well-timed Lick.
A loud thwack echoed through the arena, and Natu was face down in front of Gastly, struggling to move. It looked as if it was twitching every so often.
Malcolm wasted no time.
"Payback!"
After a moment, the Gastly crashed straight into Natu, who went flying into the air, and before Nyx could follow, a beam of red hit Natu, removing the bird from the fight.
"NatuNatu was paralyzed and already damaged from Gligar. I didn't see a point in keeping the fight going, especially when your victory was nearly assured. Congratulations, Malcolm."
Was that it?
Had he… won?
After all that training, all that worrying, going through match-ups and battle plans and techniques and-
That was it?
Malcolm stayed silent for a moment, a small frown on his face. Gastly floated up to him, a grin adorning her purple visage, and Malcolm returned it, albeit not as strongly.
"Great job Nyx, you did great! Your reaction time against Natu really helped!"
The floating ghost shrieked and did a circle in midair and Malcolm laughed at the display. He would pet her, but… maybe not.
The two of them stopped when Falkner walked over with the gym badge and a little CD. "Here is the badge. Your victory will be updated on your trainer information page by tomorrow morning. And," Falkner continued, handing over the CD in its case. "is the TM for Roost, which allows whoever uses it to restore some of their physical prowess in the heat of battle. I'm sure Gligar will be able to adapt to it just fine."
Malcolm grinned, a small chuckle rising from his lips. It wasn't out of humor, but that he was now a trainer. It was finally sinking in.
"Welcome to the big leagues, kid."
Malcolm has three Pokémon, and only one gym badge. I have his entire team planned out, and he won't have an INSANE number of Pokémon, so don't worry about him having too many to handle.
I won't spoil the final number, but he'll have more than a full team by the end of the story, of course. But, he'll have a good, tight knit gang of Pokémon to use.
Where will these two go next? Who knows?
I mean, I do, and you guys do too if you remember from earlier lmao.
Hope you all enjoy and stay safe!
