"Hey Rookie, you better not be slacking off in there! There's still plenty of stuff to load!"
"Yeah! These cages aren't going to move themselves!"
John supressed the urge to advise his co-workers to commit self-fornication and instead returned his attention to the set of ring-bound cards he held. The inside of the semi truck's large trailer was dimly lit by a few yellow lights in the roof, so he had to squint a bit to make out the small text. Standing in the centre aisle and surrounded by a number of cages loaded already, he tried to ignore the stares of the assorted pokemon the Team Rocket group had stolen or captured earlier in the day.
After a few more cards he found what he was after, John pausing and glancing up from the picture to confirm. "Nidoran," John muttered to himself while looking at the caged pokemon he'd just loaded. "The poison pin pokemon, and purple means that you're a male. Guess I should be thankful that these gloves are thick, hey?" The creature snorted through its nose while it stared at him with narrowed red eyes and large quivering ears, and he didn't miss that it made sure that the horn on its head was pointing at him. It looked to John like a slightly larger, spiker, and less cuddly rattata. "Still kind of cute though, even if you look like you want to shank me."
"Ran." The pokemon's reply was quick and probably the affirmative of the latter.
"Can't really blame you, though if you feel that way I hope that they just sell you instead of recruitment. No offense."
From what John had learned during the briefing and drive to the industrial area on the edge of Celadon city, the goon squad he had been placed in was tasked with a fairly mundane mission of getting a bunch of pokemon and returning them to base. Captured or stolen the briefing hadn't specified, not that it mattered since he was assigned to the squad that was to guard the temporary camp and load the truck. All he had really learnt from the other grunts was that any pokemon captured were to be sold on the black market, used for the Team if powerful, or given directly to the boss if they were rare enough.
He hadn't even met the B-rank agent in charge of things, the higher-up off leading the squad who were actually doing the pokemon acquiring. John didn't really mind being stuck as the loader as warehousing had been the very last thing he had been doing in his previous world after all. What he did mind was the four knuckle-draggers that shared the previously abandoned warehouse with him, all of them content to let the 'rookie' do all the work while they lounged around wasting air. It had also been decided that John was to not be graced with their names, so it was just 'grunts one to four' in his mind.
John finished skimming the small lists of possible nidoran moves and returned the info cards to a pocket. "Still beats retail," he murmured before nodding at the nidoran. "Okay, time for you to settle down for the trip back. It will be easier if you don't cause any more trouble."
The pokemon just muttered something back at him with a twitching of the front teeth, likely a reminder of the finger-biting that had been attempted when the cage was being moved. John met the stare it was giving him, his own eyes locked on and unblinking. He was used to such contests of wills thanks to Catligula, so stare-offs with ornery animals were a specialty of his. It was either the prior training or something that it saw in John's eyes, but the nidoran was the first to look away with a rapid set of blinks following soon after.
"Nidoran," it grunted and sat down in the middle of the small cage, still watching him with wary eyes.
John let it be, turning and walking past a row of other cages to the end of the trailer. Sure the pokemon had been a little bitey earlier, but he didn't feel fearful of turning his back on it. He didn't know if it was just the sturdy bars of the cages but aside from the occasionally attempted bite or scratching none of the pokemon he had loaded on so far had properly attacked him yet. Perhaps they were smart enough to realise that any attack would just make their captors vengeful, a guess John hoped was correct as he passed a six-tailed vulpix that had apparently decided that it might as well get some sleep.
He had already read that one's info card. John liked not being on fire.
Walking down the trailer's ramp he spotted the pair of grunts who had been calling to him earlier, the two talking by a stack of six medium dog-sized cages. They gave him looks when he went to pick up another one of the cages but weren't game enough to continue their heckling when he was in front of them. A wise choice on their part, while they both had a pokeball on their belts John had a good head and shoulders on them at least, backed up with a few extra kilos of muscle and many more of general mass.
'It's like we just recruit anaemic teenagers and pretty boys in their early twenties.' The silent judging of body builds was paired with the lifting of a cage, the pokemon in this one fairly light. 'Give them a rat or bat, dress them like Oswald Mosley, then tell them to commit crimes.'
Taking a brief moment to examine his cargo, John looked at the brown and round creature that gazed at him with wide black eyes. It had black rabbit-like ears and a white ring of fur on its stomach, its thickly furred forearms wrapped around a black-ringed tail that was almost larger than its actual body. He recognised it as being the same species as one of the other pokemon already onboard the truck, sentrat or something like that.
Sentry-rat, needle-ran, vulpine-pixie, he could see where the names were coming from. Well, sort of. That raised a whole new question of what came first: the pokemon earning their species' name from their speech or the other way around. That, however, was a question for Doctor Yari later.
Lifting the caged creature and once again giving thanks that it was a light one, John trudged back up the ramp and looked for a free spot. One was found in a dark corner at the back, John putting the cage down on top of a bellossom that was just sitting back sadly against the rear bars of its own prison. The sentrat was equally unhappy, the beady eyes darting around while it huddled in the rear corner and tried to shield itself with its tail.
"Sentret! Sent! Sent!"
'Oh. Sentret, not rat.'
"Okay calm down," John told the pokemon with one hand up with the palm facing out, Sentret's eyes snapping back to him with a whimper. He tried to keep a slight and friendly smile despite it, but it was a struggle. He didn't consider himself to be a softy, but it was hard to watch the small and cute creature start to tear up.
"Sentret!"
'Ah, shit.' The crying started, the sentret almost convincing John that it was a water-type with the amount it produced. With a wince he looked away from the bawling pokemon, before he spotted another cage closer to the entrance. 'Actually, maybe that could work.'
"Fine, I give in," he told the creature, the sentret momentarily ceasing its wails when the cage was picked up. "You're not getting out, but at least this might shut you up for a bit." The pokemon blinked first at his words and then at the jostling when it was placed back down, but then it looked the right and saw its new neighbour for the trip back.
"Sent!"
"Rer-ret!"
This time the cry wasn't accompanied by waterworks, the two sentret rushing towards each other and eagerly touching forepaws and tails together through the bars of their cages. Watching the babbling creatures embrace as best they could through the metal bars, John smiled to himself as he pulled out his info cards again. Problem solved, thankfully before the other grunts got sick of the crying. Apparently the go-to method of trying to get pokemon to be quiet on this mission was to threaten them with beatings and shocks, but John wasn't sure that it was the way to get the best results.
"Sentret," he started reading from the card after he'd found the correct one. "The scout pokemon…"
"Rookie!"
John paused for a moment with a twitch of his nose, before he looked sideways at the grunt storming up the trailer ramp. He recognised the pale, black-haired lanky man as 'Grunt One', the apparent leader or head-grunt of the five-man goon-platoon stuck in the warehouse. He was the tallest of the others and dressed in the same black uniform of a regular grunt, but his grey utility belt held two pokeballs compared to the usual one. Brown eyes glared at John with simmering anger, the expression packing a surprising amount of hate considering the owner looked barely old enough to be out of high school.
"What?" John didn't manage to hold back the irritation he felt at the interruption, the head grunt reaching the top of the ramp and stepping fully into the rear of the trailer to glare at him.
"You're supposed to be loading the cages, not playing with the pokemon inside them." The two sentret cowered back as far as they could without breaking their embrace when the angry stare moved over them, and the light blue nidorina in the cage below them shifted into a guarded stance when she received a sour look too. "Everything needs to be loaded by the time the others get back, Agent Hank said no delays."
John matched the man's stare, the top of the other grunt's head almost level with his nose.
"I'm not playing with them; I'm educating myself about their species and type." A pointed glance down towards the identification card book in his hand. "I've been ordered to learn as much as I can about pokemon when I can, and a minute or two in between cage loads isn't going to hurt." It wasn't a complete lie, but the grunt's expression didn't change. "There's only five cages left, small ones, I'll get it done easy."
"Not good enough Rookie!" After the grunt raised his voice with a point of a finger, John could hear chuckling from just outside the truck, the two previous grunts now joined by the harsh giggles of the lone female crook of their small group. "I haven't seen any orders saying you can slack off to play schoolboy, but I have heard orders to get this truck loaded!" Grunt number one pointed a thumb at his own chest, one boot taking a step forward towards John. "And a reminder: While Agent Hank is out, I'm the one in charge around here."
The last bit came out with a growl, many of the captive pokemon sitting or perking up to watch the confrontation between their two gaolers. Ignoring the potentially lethal creatures all around them, John didn't back down and instead took his own step toward the other man. To his credit the grunt didn't flinch when the larger and stockier human pointed a finger right at his face, the two sizing each other up.
"You want your truck loaded faster? Load a cage or two yourself or ask one of the other three dickheads to do something useful for once." The finger was jabbed in the air, John getting more heated. "Instead of complaining you lot can actually help with the work, if you can find the time to stop standing around with your dicks in your hands."
"Hey! I'm not a guy you know!"
The complaint from the female grunt listening from outside the truck was ignored by all parties.
"You're the rookie, you do the lifting work," Head Grunt scoffed with a glance at John's empty belt, his own hand on a hip. "Why else would they send a big, dumb, grunt out on a job with no pokemon? You should be thankful they even let you play glorified forklift, since you'd be useless in a fight."
A snort from John, who waved his identification cards dismissively. "Says the lanklet. Without your pets you'd lose to a stiff breeze."
"Careful, Rookie." The grunt's right hand went down to hover over the tops of the two miniaturised pokeballs. "You might just meet my two 'pets'."
John sneered, putting his card pack back in his pocket to free up his hand. "Oh yeah? Try me. I bet I could put your head through some cage bars before you even have the chance to fondle their balls."
The tense atmosphere gained a chill after the latest threat, but it didn't stop one of the grunts outside from quietly snickering. Both the Rookie and the Head Grunt remained still, John clenching his fists while the other grunt limbered up his fingers near his belt like he was a cowboy in a quickdraw duel. Multiple pairs of eyes of different sizes and colours watched from behind the metal bars of cages, more than a few waiting to witness their first human-battle with bated breath.
Then the stare-off broke with a scoff from the leader grunt, his chin flicking up and a gloved hand waving off the other man's threat.
"Pfft, typical rookies. Think that they're hotshots who've made the criminal big leagues." Brown eyes once again glared at John, the man already turning away from him and making to descend back down the ramp. "Whatever, read your idiot cards you pokemon-less chump, but you are going to load those cages. And trust me, your insubordination is going to be reported."
"Yeah okay mate, whatever soothes your arse-ache."
John shook his head and ignored the unintelligible murmurs from outside the truck from his fellow criminals, instead pulling his ring-bound cards back out and flipping through them. Glancing to the nidorina and pair of sentret, he jerked his head to the end of the trailer and made a hand gesture next to his groin with a roll of his eyes. "What a fucking wanker, right? So far up his own arse he can taste his own shit."
Blank stares were the only reply.
It took a few minutes of thumbing through his pokemon identification cards, but it soon dawned on John that he'd already read every card for the creatures currently contained in the trailer. He looked back towards the ramp, sighing and returning the cards to his pocket.
'Well, got to get another cage I suppose. Hopefully Stringbean has fucked off back outside.' Adjusting his belt, John made for the ramp with a duck of his head in preparation for the low clearance. 'Just think of the paycheck at the end of it.'
He stepped back out into the warehouse proper, dismounting the trailer ramp and scanning around for any sign of the other grunts. Despite seemingly being abandoned as far as he knew the warehouse still had some power, the yellow-white industrial lights high above giving the wide-open area some illumination despite the late evening night. A few metal barrels and some scattered junk piles on the oil-stained concrete floor were the only hints as to what the building used to be, now joined by the (thankfully unbranded) plain-grey truck and trailer as well as the remaining cages.
The rattling of metal drew his attention to the far corner of the warehouse, two Team Rocket members kicking a can between themselves as they idly chatted. Unfortunately for John it seemed like the pairs had swapped, the Head Grunt and the female goon now guarding the inside while the other two were presumably somewhere outside past the blemished roller doors.
Snorting through his nose and limbering up his shoulders, partly preparing to lift another cage and partly in warning in case Stringbean was watching, John approached the nearest cage and took a peek inside.
"Oh cool, another sandshrew."
The yellow-scaled pokemon just stared at John with unblinking blue eyes and a nervous rubbing of the foreclaws. It was sitting down on its haunches while using the tail for support, eyes following the grey gloves as they reached for the sides of the cage.
"That's a good sandshrew, just sit there nice and quiet while I get you on the truck. I'll try not to jostle you too much, yeah?"
Crouching down and getting ready to lift with his hands going for the cage handles on the topside, John paused when the sandshrew looked away from him to squeak in the direction of the far-right warehouse wall. The creature's small ears, triangular, twitched atop its rough-scaled head. Straining his own hearing in an attempted to get a read on what had drawn the sandshrew's attention, John wasn't able to pick anything up that was out of the ordinary.
"Might just be the other guys coming back," he wondered out loud half to himself and half to the sandshrew.
His initial guess changed immediately when the two grunts inside with him abruptly halted their game of tin-can football, and the two swung around to face the door in the right wall. Metal creaked in protest when it was roughly thrown open, one of the other grunts rushing in from the outside with his pokeball in his hand.
"Look alive, we've got a problem!" Behind him a creature let out a high-pitched cry in the night and something smacked against one of the closed roller doors with a meaty thump. The door swung closed behind the grunt after he rushed in, his hair hidden under his cap but with chest heaving and his green eyes were wide with worry. "My rattata got knocked out, West's is still going but it won't be for long at this rate."
"What?" the Head Grunt's hand immediately went for his first pokeball and sat atop it at the ready. A glance was sent over towards John, but the crook seemed to be looking at the truck rather than him, before returning to his panting colleague. "Police? We were told they wouldn't be an issue." The female grunt took her own look at the truck at the mention of law enforcement, her own pokeball in hand while she anxiously glanced to the Head Grunt for guidance.
The first grunt shook his head and returned his ball to his belt. "Nah, I think it's just some kid playing hero. He ambushed us out by the main gate, seems like he's got some fliers." A wince. "No evos so far, but he's a trainer for sure. We thought we could take him, but…"
Another crash against the roller door drew looks, a remarkably rattata-shaped dent having appeared in the thin metal.
John, having stood up next to the caged sandshrew, grimaced with sympathy for the unlucky rodent. The Head Grunt seemed far less perturbed by the news and the potentially injured Team Rocket pokemon. Instead of his earlier frown he wore a cocky grin, a short laugh of amusement directed at the door leading to the outside.
"A trainer you say? Great, things were getting a little boring." His fellow grunts looked at him with raised eyes, the lanklet cracking his knuckles and adjusting the brim of his hat. "When he busts in here he'll be met with a swift loss. I love beating twerps who think they're able to get one over on Team Rocket."
There was a rapid series of muffled squeaking and inarticulate yelling from the battle outside, the female grunt looking at the Head Grunt after taking another glance at the truck.
"Should we get the truck ready to go just in case?" She grimaced and blew a tuft of short brown hair out of her face with annoyance. "All I've got is a loaner rattata, my usual pokemon is back in the centre with a training injury." A neutral look was sent John's way. "The Rookie's got nothing, but most of the stuff's loaded and we could-."
"We can't leave yet," Head Grunt cut in with horizontal slice of his hand. "Orders were clear, we don't go until the B-rank says or the cops show up. Last I checked, one measly trainer isn't the cops. Release your pokemon."
The grunt did as he ordered, her rattata appearing before the group with a quick squeak and a gaze up to her with a tilted head. A little on the smaller side, the pokemon jittered on all four paws before turning towards the door when the grunt pointed a finger. "Rattata, get ready for a battle."
"Allow me to join you," The first pokeball was snatched from the Head Grunt's belt, the leader of the grunts holding it out and tapping the button once to maximise it. "Mr Hero won't be expecting this!"
Now, despite his dislike of the man, John was still curious to see what pokemon the leader of the group was going to go with. He was obviously confident in his ability to defeat the interloper despite the previous grunt having been bested and the other seemingly struggling, so whatever it was it was bound to be strong. Maybe it was like Vivian and Weave, and the lanky prick had something cool tucked away. Maybe an electric type, or a rock type perhaps. John was kind of keen to see some of the rock pokemon that he'd already read about in the starter books, particularly the one that was just a head and fists. 'Yeah, that'd be cool.'
He didn't have to wait long, the grunt who'd been already beaten retreating behind the other two while the leader raised his arm with pokeball in hand. Head Grunt took a moment to have another short laugh at his own brilliant plan before he released the creature within, white light condensing out on the floor before them to take shape. John waited with bated breath, the caged sandshrew beside him also watching the new arrival, the bright light fading and giving way to…
To…
"You've got to be joking," John spluttered out, looking at the new pokemon with the volume of his voice rising with his disbelief. "Really? I mean, really?"
The three grunts and the two pokemon that had just been released looked at him, the Head Grunt's smug grin souring. "Problem, Rookie?"
John gestured with a hand towards the rattata, correction, the pair of rattatas now staring at him with wide red eyes. "That's it? It's just another rattata. It even looks skinner than the first one!" Head Grunt's rattata was looking a bit thin around the ribs, the rodent sinking down with its head bowed at the criticism. The other rattata scuttered over to pat its fellow on the back with a forepaw, John ignoring the two while he gave a shake of his head. "This is your brilliant, hero-stopping plan is it? Two rattata?"
"First thing, Rookie," the leader grunt's reply was punctuated by a third smack against the roller door, followed by the faint sound of a pokeball returning a creature. "Grunts without pokemon don't get to comment on their superior'schoices, you only get to listen and obey. Second thing, the initial plan isn't just to use two rattata, but to use both of them at the same time." A hand was raised, the Head Grunt's index finger pointing up in the air. "We'll wear this trainer down with numbers, and if you shut up for once I might even give you his worst pokemon as a trophy of my victory. Something for you to look at to remind yourself of what a real grunt can achieve."
'Wait…' John's eyes shifted to the grunt who'd brought the news of the trainer's arrival. 'Didn't those two already use two rattata already?' He had renewed doubts as to the competency of his apparent 'superior', not that the man seemed to have found any flaw with the 'plan', and John was about to make his fresh misgivings vocal.
Any criticism from John was cut off however when the single metal door smacked open again. The last grunt of their group dashed in with a pokeball in one hand, his other glove folded protectively over the top of his ducked head. The cause of his haste chased after him into the warehouse, the bird coming to a stop just shy of his head when it spotted the other grunts and their pokemon waiting for it. Red wings, a white underbelly, a brown-feathered head, and last but not least a sharp-looking beak. John recognised the bird from his books and info cards, spearows being a common sight in the sprawling forests that bordered Kanto's vast grasslands.
The pokemon stayed aloft a few metres above the concrete floor with flaps of its wings, the way it was able to effectively hover in place with seemingly little effort not really surprising to John considering how the world's version of animals were borderline magical. Keen black eyes glared at the two rattata in particular, a beaky sneer of what could only be contempt followed by a short burst of screechy speech prompting the pair of rodents to fold their ears back and wince.
John recalled that flocks of spearow primary preyed on bugs… and occasionally rattata. 'Oh, hopefully it's not hungry then.'
"Ah ha!"
A boy wearing baggy blue jeans, white sneakers, and a red hoodie walked into the grungy warehouse before the metal door could swing back closed. Boy being an accurate term, looking to John like he was barely old enough to be in his teens. The youngest in the warehouse by five years at least, he was beaten in the height department even by the female grunt. If he was aware of the fact that he was facing down five adults he didn't show it, his unblemished teeth on display with a cocky grin that was only matched by the sparkle of excitement in his emerald-coloured eyes. It might have had something to do with the two pokeballs attached to his bulky black belt, a third pokeball already held in his left hand.
"So this is where you criminals are hiding out then, figures." He blew a strand of light-brown hair out of his face, crossing his arms and looking over the two rattata before him. "More rattata? Really?"
"Row-row rear!" the pokemon hovering beside the youngster squawked out in a vague mocking tone.
Head Grunt scowled at the newcomer and the bird, his free hand clenching into a fist. "Shut it kid! What are you even doing here, you trying to play hero?"
A glance from the boy went to John and the cadged sandshrew beside him, his grin instantly morphing into a frown. Refacing the leader grunt, the other three standing behind their squad lead, the boy pointed a finger right at the imprisoned sandshrew.
"No, what are you even doing? You can't go around poaching and stealing pokemon from people! Let them go!"
"Yeah right, or what?" A sneering glance was directed at the spearow. "You've only got one pokemon out, and you won't find me as easy as the other two."
"That's not saying much," the kid snorted back, casting a glance at the two rattata in between him and the grunts. "Those pokemon look even scrawnier than the ones we already beat, they obviously aren't well looked after. And if that's how you treat your own pokemon…" the interloper looked over at the sandshrew once more, practically ignoring John as if he wasn't even there, before clenching his free hand into a fist and glaring back at the head grunt. "Then there's no way I can let you crooks get away with this. We're going to battle you, and we're going to win. Right Spearow?"
"Row!" The flying-type moved in front of its trainer, still maintaining its spot in the air with steady flaps of its wings. The pokemon's head swivelled with alternating glares at the pair of opposing rattata, and to the rodents' credit they both took up a low and ready four-legged stance in preparation for the fight.
The male grunt who had been chased into the warehouse by the spearow stored his singular pokeball back on his belt while the grunt leader and the female grunt sized up their opponent's pokemon. "He's got a pidgey as well, but we wore it down enough that he decided to recall it. No idea what the third one is." His voice was low enough that John could barely make the words, but the scoff and reply from the head grunt was nowhere near as subtle.
"It doesn't matter, we'll crush this annoyance regardless of what he's got. You and Spence stand back and watch, we've got it from here."
The warehouse was now an impromptu arena, the grunts and the two rattata in one half of the cleared central space facing off against the trainer and his flying-types in the other. John, having remained by the sandshrew cage during the previous back-and-forth, couldn't help but feel a little left out while the other humans and their pokemon got ready to duel. He didn't know why the four of them couldn't just tackle the wanna-be hero, even with the cranky-looking bird flapping about. Hell, he'd even jump in and help if needed, just to get the whole thing sorted out sooner.
'But no,' he thought to himself while he stood and waited for the brawl to start. 'Gotta have the pokemon fight to solve the problem. God forbid we get anything done without our daily pokemon fight.'
Oh well, it wasn't his problem to deal with at the moment so he might as well just watch. A small thought popped up that suggested he might even learn something about battling from observing the more veteran grunts and a trainer, but that was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing realisation.
'Fuck, I'm starved.'
A gloved hand went for his left pocket and fished out one of his many stored protein bars, the brown-and-beige wrapper of the strangely named 'Nuz-Nut Nutrabar' being opened just as the pokemon battle kicked off.
"Spearow, open with a Growl!"
The teenaged trainer took the initiative with his rapid command, which his pokemon obeyed without hesitation. The resulting shrill cry from the spearow caused the two rattata to fold their ears back with their previously strong stances faltering, even the humans around the warehouse wincing with discomfort. The trainer was evidently used to his pokemon's move however, barely pausing before a second command left his lips. "Wing Attack, down the middle of them!"
The flier shot forwards with wings spread, a glinting sheen of some kind of light-blue energy flickering across the frontal edges of its wings as it did so. The female grunt's rattata didn't wait for orders and instead flung itself to the side, narrowly avoiding the oncoming wing and rolling twice to get some distance. The other rattata wasn't as quick, the pokemon freezing for just a second too late. Spearow smacked into it with another cry, lifting the poor rodent off its paws with the momentum and sending it tumbling backwards. With the attack complete the bird soared back up into the air, but not before deliberately buzzing the heads of the forward-most grunts on the way up.
"Gah!" Head Grunt ducked and glared at the passing bird that had just sent his rattata head over heels. "Get up! Fight back with a Bite the next time it comes into range!"
"Rattata, to me!" With her own glare at the Spearow while it circled around to make another pass, the other grunt held her outstretched arm towards her pokemon. The rattata, already out of the roll and back on all four paws, twitched its whiskers as it blinked in confusion. "Quickly you dolt! Get ready to hit that featherbag with a Quick Attack." The grunt's other arm was pointing directly at the Spearow as it flew back towards its trainer from the side, her palm flat and all five fingers together. Watching her track the passing bird with her limb, the rattata squeaked in sudden realisation and affirmation, its paws pattering on the ground as it raced at her to leap onto her offered arm.
It was certainly a sight, John and the other grunts watching as the rattata ran up the grunt's arm and across her shoulders, the purple rodent's claws digging into the uniform for purchase while bounding onto her other arm with a chitter. The teenage trainer was also watching the rattata gain speed and wondering just what the woman was thinking, but he caught on too late.
"Watch out!"
With a cry of 'rattata!' the rat pokemon leapt from the grunts arm, the additional height combined with the speed of the attack allowing it to throw its body right at the spearow. The bird, evidently caught off-guard by the attack from somewhere that wasn't the floor, barely got out a squawk before the flying rat slammed into it. Both pokemon fell to the cold concrete floor, landing heavily in a mass of feathers and fur.
"This is actually getting interesting," John murmured, about to take a bite of his protein bar while he watched the others react to the unusual tactic. The sandshrew sitting in the cage next to him nodded an affirmative, its blackish-blue eyes locked on the battle.
"Sa."
Sparing a glance to the creature John broke off a third of his nut bar and offered it through the cage bars, the sandshrew's attention not leaving the pokemon fight even as it accepted the food with a scaley three-clawed paw and a light grunt of what John assumed was thanks.
Both returned to their full attention to the battle playing out like a subpar action flick, the protein bar their popcorn.
"Spearow!" The trainer struggled to restrain himself from immediately rushing over to his fallen bird, but the name caused the flier to stir. "Are you okay?"
"Ra-row," the bird managed to get out, dislodging itself from the dazed rattata that had brought it down and taking a step back from the groggy rodent. Just in time as well, the Head Grunt's rattata barrelling towards it with jaw open wide.
"Dodge back now!"
A quick flap of the wings propelled the spearow backwards, not enough to take flight but just enough to move out of the way of the oncoming Bite. A few primary feathers were all the skinner rattata got for its ambush, the head grunt chortling with a sneer as his pokemon skidded to a halt to face the spearow again.
"Forgot about me, eh?" he taunted, ignoring his battling partner while she ordered her shaky rattata to get back up and on its paws. "Starting to regret that comment about 'more rattata' yet?"
"We're far from beaten, don't count us out yet." The boy dramatically swept an arm in front of him, ending it in a point towards the rattata that was still clambering back to all fours. "Spearow, Aerial Ace then Peck on that rattata, show that wanna-be flying-type how a real flyer can move." At his words the bird beat its wings and soared up towards the warehouse ceiling, taking advantage of the shadows cast by the lacklustre industrial lights. "Remember our training against the weedle!"
"Row!"
With the cry of affirmation the spearow shot out of the shadows high above, streaking through the air straight down towards the female grunt's rattata. The rodent had only just regained its footing, and its head snapped up to stare at the oncoming attack with wide eyes.
The head grunt took a step forward, a gloved hand clenched into a fist. "Intercept it and stop the attack!"
Jolted into action by the command, the smaller of the two rattata tried to leap at the oncoming flyer with a tackle. However the spearow barely seemed to notice, skilfully rolling slightly to the left and avoiding the attempt completely. It almost looked like a shimmer in the air, the rattata attempting to save it's fellow screeching past it with an attempted bite falling just short of the spearow's side. With that interruption gone the bird quickly closed the distance, the loaner rattata's temporary master trying one final panicked order.
"Duck it at the last moment then roll!"
It didn't work, the spearow pulling out of the dive at the last moment to swoop up and over the rattata's back. Before the rodent could reorient itself the trained flyer executed a perfect loop above the target, diving back down and seizing the rattata's purple flanks in its stubby talons. Squeaking rapidly, the rattata tried to shake the spearow off but the attacker just tightened its grip and drew blood when the talons pierced deeper into the rat's sides. Then a dart of the head sent the short yet sturdy beak into the back of the rattata's skull, a sharp crack cutting off the rattata's cries. John paused mid-chew when the rattata dropped, the spearow releasing its hold on the pokemon and flapping back into the air just before the beaten pokemon slumped motionlessly onto its side.
A brief moment passed between all the battle participants and observers, even the formerly confident grunt leader seeming to have his breath hitched in his throat, before the female grunt leaned forward and then let out a quick sigh of relief.
"He's still breathing," she announced with a raise of her pokeball. The rattata was returned, the spearow's trainer grinning at the result.
"Ah yeah Spearow, nice work! One rat down, one more to go." He turned his look to the female grunt, who glowered at him with her pokeball in hand. "Rattata is lucky Spearow knows to use the blunt bit of her beak for that attack, if it was a wild pokemon that rattata would be dinner right now."
"It's just a loaner," she spat back, although no-one missed how she shifted her free hand to shield the pokeball from the spearow at the teen's words. "If I had my regular…"
The trainer raised his eyes at the response but shrugged soon after. "Spearow would probably have still won, she's been training hard." The bird, having returned to flying at her trainer's side, let out a proud cry at the praise. Still smiling at the fuming grunt, the teen seemed to be ignoring the other rattata still on the field. "Using yourself to get your rattata closer to Spearow as she flew past was pretty cool though, you've battled flying-types before with them?"
The grunt huffed dismissively and folded her arms across her chest but eyed the kid with less venom than before. "Maybe I have. What's it to you?"
"I just wondered if you had a name for it?"
A snort. "Why would I?"
John couldn't help but interject from where he was standing, his snack already finished when he raised his voice to give his opinion on the matter. "Call it the 'Ratapult'."
The suggestion earned a crack of a smile from the grunt, although the leader next to her was looking increasingly vexed that the battle had been paused and that he was ignored.
"Well, maybe the rookie isn't so worthless after all," she conceded before stepping back to stand with the other grunts behind their temporary leader. "But as for you, trainer, count yourself lucky I was having an off day. Go get him, boss man."
"Finally," the head grunt muttered, scowling at the young teenager. "Enough interruptions, there's still a pokemon on the field in case you've forgotten."
"Right." Fluffing out his red hoodie before pointing at the remaining rattata waiting by the head grunt, the teenage trainer shifted from foot to foot and limbered up. "Spearow, let's finish this one quickly as well with a wing attack."
"Row-rear!"
A streak of red and brown feathers shot towards the waiting rattata, a glint of light blue already shimmering on the spearow's wings as it closed the distance. Shifting on its four paws, the scrawny rattata braced for impact, the spearow taking a direct route straight towards it. Behind the rat the head grunt watched the oncoming charge and just smirked, right up to the last few seconds before impact.
"Take Down."
His rattata threw itself straight at the oncoming spearow, the flying-type's beady eyes widening with surprise in tandem with her trainer's. Not being a particularly muscley or bulky rattata didn't matter much thanks to the combined opposing momentums of each pokemon, the spearow unable to abort her attack before she received a face full of rodent. The wild charge and resultant impact sent the two battlers careening to the concrete floor of the warehouse, a screech from the spearow joined by a squeak of pain from the rattata. The lone teenager gritted his teeth while he watched his spearow struggle to get up, but the head grunt had no intention of letting the bird get off lightly.
"Rattata, Bite."
The attack from the groaning rattata was weak as it was dazed from the impact, but the large fangs still found their mark in the spearow's right wing. The bird screeched again and lashed out with a kick, her short talons making contact with the side of the rattata's head. The fanged grip slipped and the flying-type jumped away, but not before delivering a vicious peck to the top of the offending pokemon's head to knock it out.
The leader of the grunt squad didn't react poorly to his pokemon's loss, the unconscious rattata being returned in a beam of red while he held a neutral expression. "As expected, but it did as I asked and needed." An eye was raised at the battered spearow, even as the teen trainer pumped his fist with a grin at another win. "Now your birdy can meet my main pokemon, though with how weakened you are it's hardly a fair fight…" A slight and twisted smile, the grunt leader replacing the knocked-out rattata's pokeball with the fresh ball from his belt. "Which makes it just my kind of fight."
"Spear row-ear," the flying-type said back with a raise of her beak and a puffing out of her chest, a glint of indifference in her eyes. After a quick test of her right wing she took to the air again with rapid wingbeats, a little slower than before but still rearing to go. However her trainer had different idea, the teenager stepping up beside her with a pokeball already in his hand and a stare fixed on the smirking head grunt.
"Spearow, I'm going to sub you out for Swift for this next one, okay?"
The bird turned in the air to face her trainer, a frown on her face with rapid squawking following soon after.
"No, you did really well. I just think you need a break for a bit. If we need you again I'll let you back out straight away, I promise."
It took a few moments for the bird to relent, Spearow letting out a low 'Spear-ra' before heading to the pokeball and tapping the button to let herself back in. The teen swapped her ball out for the third one on his belt, his eyes firmly on the Team Rocket grunts before him.
"Go on then, let's see this pokemon you've been bragging about then."
The head grunt's smirk widened into a sneer. "With pleasure!"
The pokeball in his gloved hand opened with a pop, a flash of white energy condensing into the shape of a coiled serpent. The glow faded and in its place was a snake with large purple scales, bulging yellow eyes with vertical black-slitted pupils, and a yellow-bead tail cap that looked to John like something a rattlesnake would have.
"Ekans," the creature announced with a hiss, eyes locking onto the boy in the red hoodie. The beady tailed swished back and forth, the trainer taking a cautious step back with his hand clutching the pokeball tighter.
"Big snake," John mumbled to himself. He tried to get a good look at the creature from where he stood, taking note of the yellow band around the serpent's neck and the matching underside. It was still just sitting there and waiting for the other pokemon to appear, the coiled position making it a bit difficult to accurately judge its length. About a metre and a half long John reckoned, far from the largest snake he'd personally seen.
'It's no taipan, death adder, or king brown, but I bet it can do more than just bite you.' Another thought followed soon after, his hand going into his pocket and retrieving the info card notebook at the reminder. While he did so the trainer recovered from his initial unease of the revealed pokemon, the teen raising his own pokeball and releasing his battler.
Another bird, this one more than twice the size of the spearow used previously, emerged from the ball with a loud cry of its own. Standing on the ground in front of its trainer it almost reached the young teen's chest in height. It possessed a brown and cream coloured body and wings, along with vibrant red feathers in its crest and tail, and John took a guess that it was a higher form of the common pidgey. Ekans was temporarily forgotten about, John already flipping through the cards in his hand in order to find the one for the new pokemon.
The fight wasn't going to wait for him however, and the fat purple snake flicked its tongue out at the large bird with a hiss. The opposing pokemon jerked its head back for a moment before it clicked its tongue and narrowed its eyes, its wings unfurling while it glared at the snake. An impressive wingspan it was too, the feathered forelimbs looking to be both large in size and with well-muscled joints. This wasn't just a common garden bird or flying bin rat; it was a creature with some serious flight capabilities. Add the large, sharp beak and tripled-taloned feet into the equation and it looked to have the capability to put up a good fight as well.
John turned over the card with pidgey on it and landed on the one for the beast of a bird before him, right as the pair of wings flexed and flapped to propel the pokemon off the concrete floor and into the air.
"Pidgeotto," he quietly read out loud to himself after glancing down at the name, the small picture on the card not doing the pokemon much justice. Hovering in the air above and beside the wanna-be hero, the beats of the wings that kept the pidgeotto aloft weren't nearly as fast as the preceding spearow's. However the lack of speed was more of an indicator of the massive difference in wing power that the larger flyer had over its tired teammate than a failing, each beat of the bird's wings sending a layer of dust, dirt, and occasional loose bolt or nut that covered the surrounding floor up into the air with the force.
Glancing away from the pidgeotto and back to his info cards John lifted the current card up to find that, yes, there was an even bigger 'evolution' in the pidgey family.
Head Grunt didn't seem too perturbed at the pokemon facing off against his ekans, a smirk on his face even while the trio of already-beaten grunts waited behind him with nervous glances between the two fighters.
"This must be Swift, then. Hmm, not a bad pidgeotto from the looks of it."
The pidgeotto didn't respond, solely fixated on the ekans while the snake pokemon swayed its upper body from side-to-side with a matching stare. The kid however puffed up at the slight hint of praise, hands on his hips with the pokeball clutched in his right.
"Yeah. He's fast and tough, and always loves to train." His smile gained some smugness. "And if those rattata were any indication, Swift's the most well-trained pokemon in this dump. He'll take out your ekans, easy."
Ekans hissed again, lower this time, but the grunt leader only grinned at the boast.
"Well kid, if he's as great a pidgeotto as you claim, guess I'll just keep him for myself as a victory prize." Gloved fingers snapped. "Ekans, Acid."
Ekans belched barely a second after the command left its master's lips, its serpentine body bulging before a fat glob of purple gunk shot out from its wide maw. Trailing thick drops of sludge that splattered the floor between the two pokemon with purple, the vile projectile arched towards the hovering pidgeotto with surprising accuracy. Swift didn't need a command to dodge the shot, a single beat of the wings sending him up and above the attempted attack without breaking a sweat. The trainer for his part could only backpedal with a grunt as the shot sailed over his right shoulder, shaking out his hoodie when a drop of the caustic goo splattered onto the red fabric.
"Hey, watch it!"
"This ain't one of your league battles, kid," the female grunt sniggered, the other grunts save for John scoffing as well while the teen frowned down at the charred spot of black on his clothing. "You're lucky you didn't catch it with your face!"
John didn't see how the possibility of receiving the magical attack equivalent of two London lads on a moped with a bucket of acid was in any way humorous, but these people did seem to have grown up treating creatures such as acid-spitting snakes and fire-breathing foxes as the norm. He did make a mental note to try and find out just how dangerous pokemon battles could be to the humans involved, both in the wild and out.
"Correct," added the Head Grunt with a chuckle of his own. "You could even say that you've… bitten off more than you can chew. Ekans, close in and use Bite!"
The snake darted forwards and up as if launching from a coiled spring, its serpent body straightening out while it 'leaped' towards the pidgeotto with mouth wide open. With no acid to avoid, this time the trainer was ready to give orders.
"Dodge up and Gust!"
Swift was already moving with a cry of acknowledgement; a swift burst of wing beats simultaneously giving him enough distance to avoid the oncoming attack while also sending powerful gusts of air back down at the oncoming ekans. The purple snake was buffeted by the powerful burst of wind sent careening to the cold floor below, a surprised 'kans!' cut-off by the smack of scales on concrete.
The grunt commanding it didn't get off scot-free either and this time it was his turn to be on the receiving end of a pokemon attack. He was much larger than ekans however, even with his skinny and lanky frame, and was able to keep his footing while he was whipped by the wind. Dust in his eyes forced a wince and a single loose bolt from the warehouse's more productive past smacked into his right arm, but there was no serious damage. It did appear to piss him off though, the Head Grunt's teeth clenched as he wiped his eyes with one hand while gesturing to Swift with the other.
"Coil and prepare to go again!"
"Get ready to use Gust when it leaps!"
Ekans was just about to make another attempt at getting close to the flyer, the teen watching the snake with a slight smile. It really didn't seem like a wise decision from the Head Grunt considering how badly the first leap had gone, but the grunt didn't show any unease. In fact he sported a smile of his own, the reason for which became apparent when he gave his pokemon a surprise order.
"Glare."
"Wha-"
Ekans' already unnerving eyes seemed to grow even larger, the slit pupils narrowing into barely-visible lines as it thrust its head towards the pidgeotto. The teenage trainer winced despite not being the direct target of the attack, and even from the sidelines of the improvised arena John felt a tiny shiver run down his spine as he stared at the single yellow eye that was visible to him. It was Swift who copped it the worst though, the pokemon's own wide eyes locked into a stare with the offending serpent. His height faltered when his wing flaps slowed down, almost dropping him to the floor before he managed another weak wingbeat to avoid crashing.
"Swift!" The teen almost dashed forwards to reach out for his bird before a low hiss from the ekans caused him to falter, his fist clenching instead. "Swift, close your eyes or look away!"
An overly dramatic chop of the arm from Head Grunt was followed by a short and humourless chuckle.
"Bite him Ekans, now!"
This time the pidgeotto was unable to dodge the oncoming snake as it lunged towards it, his flight still shaky and his altitude too low. Ekans latched onto Swift's side with a wet chomp, the bird's eyes going even wider when hidden fangs lanced past his feathers and into his torso. The pain broke through the invisible force that had befuddled the pokemon's mind, Swift letting out a shriek and thrashing about in an attempt to break away from the bite. Ekans' hold was firm however, the serpent twisting his body away whenever the sharp talons got too close.
Watching his pokemon get savaged, the trainer hesitated before he barked his next order.
"Swift, you need to focus and listen to me! I know it hurts, but you've got to fly straight up!" He continued on despite his pokemon's continued squawking and thrashing. "Fly up, Swift! Ekans will either have to let go or be an easy target! Please!"
The orders got through, the pidgeotto struggling to beat his wings while grimacing from the sharp fangs buried in his flesh. But beat them he did, managing to lift higher off the ground with each pained flap.
The Head Grunt wasn't idle while the plan was put into action however, his shark-like grin betraying his enjoyment of what was to come next. With his ekans still holding on with locked jaws, he spared a cocky glance back at the trio of grunts behind him before returning his attention to the duel.
"Show them why you don't mess with poison types Ekans! Poison Sting, and don't go easy on it!"
There was no visible indication that the ekans had followed or even heard its master's order, save for the pidgeotto letting out another pained cry and faltering slightly. But the bird persevered onwards and upwards regardless of what was happening, gaining enough height so that the snake pokemon was now dangling completely off the ground. The wriggling purple tube of Ekans' body was now an easier target for Swift's claws, and a glint of anger joined the pain in the flyer's narrowed eyes as Swift took full advantage of his foe's position.
Ekans hissed with a mouthful of bird-flesh when the sharp talons raked across its scales, the claws finding the occasional chink in the natural armour and drawing a few drops of blood each time they did so. However, when the pidgeotto managed to scour a large gash in the softer yellow underbelly Ekans was unable to hold onto the bite any longer, the bird pulling free of its attack with the snake dropping back down to the ground.
Pidgeotto didn't get away scot-free though, a slick of purple staining the serpent's fangs alongside a thick coating of blood. Even from where John was standing the same purple tinge was visible on Swift's feathers near the two puncture zones, the pidgeotto's chest moving with rapid breaths even as he stabilised his position in the air.
"Swift, are you…?"
The flying-type turned in the air to look at his trainer, pained gaze matching the wide eyes of his young trainer. Even as he panted, Swift nodded at the unfinished question. "Geotto!" He then returned his attention to the ekans, who was shaking its head and returning to a coiled position on the floor.
"If you say so," the teenager conceded, before turning his full attention back to the ekans and continuing through clenched teeth. "Let's be quick then and finish this fight."
The rest of the battle was short and decisive. Despite the pidgeotto struggling to fight off the venom he had been injected with, Swift was able to keep his distance up in the air and this time well out of range of the snake. Another attempt at a glare was made but this time both pokemon and trainer were ready and expecting it, Ekans unable to do much as it was thrown around the area with multiple gusts. Swift proved to be a healthy bird and even though his movements grew more sluggish as the fight went on he maintained a constant barrage of attacks. From the way the grunt leader's fist clenched tighter and tighter each time his own pokemon was buffeted with a gust or missed an attempted strike, he hadn't expected Swift to last as nearly as long as he did. The three grunts behind him grew visibly nervous at the way things were shaping up, while John just watched the battle with ignorant interest.
Finally the victor of the confrontation was decided when a final gale of air sent Ekans slamming down into the concrete beside its master, the snake twitching before the yellow eyes rolled upwards, the serpent passing out on the floor with its forked tongue lolling out of its mouth. Head Grunt merely stared wordlessly at his fallen pokemon, the realisation that he had just lost slowly setting in.
"You did it Swift!" cheered the young trainer while he ran to his bird, Swift dropping down to the floor and landing unsteadily in front of him. The pidgeotto held his head high while looking over the defeated ekans and grunts, but he couldn't keep in the small dribble of purple saliva that leaked from his beak. "I can't believe that you manage to stay flying for so long! Thank you so much!" The teen skidded down onto a knee but stopped just short of throwing his arms around his pokemon in an embrace, eyes first going to the wounds in Swift's side before he noticed the slight swaying of the pokemon's body. The previous grin of elation wavered at the realisation of just how poisoned his friend was, and the trainer shifted the pokeball in his hand.
"I'll get you all healed up at the pokemon centre as soon as we're done here," the teen continued while raising the ball towards his barely standing pokemon. "Take a good rest buddy, you've more than earned it." The pidgeotto was returned to the ball with a beam of red, the trainer quickly returning it to his belt before grabbing another. He stood up and scowled at the grunts opposite him. "So, I've still got pokemon to call out if needed, but I'm guessing that Ekans was your last." The Head Grunt looked to him at the reminder, his body shaking slightly with his teeth clenched.
There was no verbal response, but the way the leader of the grunt team seethed while he returned his defeated ekans to the pokeball was all the answer that was needed. The trainer stared at the group of rocket grunts with his pokeball at the ready in his hand, the female of the group eventually looking to the Head Grunt while he silently stood and glowered impotently at the kid who'd just thrashed them.
"What do we do?" she whispered, the other two grunts leaning in as well. "Should we run now?"
Head Grunt ground his teeth. "We can't. There's no way…" An angry snort. "There's no way we can let this… this kid beat us!" The trio of grunts each took a step back when he stamped his foot and pointed right at the teen's chest. "How!?"
Gone was any trace of humour when the boy responded. "Easy. I'm a pokemon trainer, it's in the name." His scowl lessened but was still present. "Maybe if you criminals actually cared for and trained your pokemon properly they'd fight for you like Swift does for me." A twitch at the corner of his mouth. "And I'm still pretty new to this, what's your excuse?"
Head Grunt popped.
"You little…!"
He'd barely taken a step forward with his fist raised before there was a glow of white, the spearow from earlier released from her ball and taking flight right beside her trainer. The bird seemed to immediately sense what was going on and fixed the grunts with a warning glare, making sure to show off her beak as she did so. It stopped the advance immediately, even Head Grunt in his rage hesitating at attempting to attack a pokemon. The trio behind the fuming leader started to take some slow steps back, looks alternating from the teenage trainer with his arms crossed, to the truck, and then to the doors at the far end of the warehouse.
"I wouldn't try it," the trainer advised with a jerk of his head towards his pokemon. "Spearow may be smaller than Swift, but she's still strong and well-trained. Try to attack, and she'll be more than ready to defend us."
"Row-ear!"
"That's right, Spearow. Now…" The teen shifted his shoulders, swinging his blue backpack down to one arm and pulling out a small and red rectangular device. "You crooks stay where you are, I'm going to call the police. Watch them Spearow."
"Spear row-ear!"
The four grunts under the watchful gaze of the flying-type all shared fidgety looks between each other, even the leader of the group's rage having simmered down into a defeated fume. With each one now out of pokemon and effectively helpless, they could only watch the teenaged hero flip open his device in preparation to alert the authorities.
"Yeah nah, mate. That isn't going to be happening."