Hey everyone! I'm back with another installation of Johto Adventures!
I'm accepting OCs for this story. Please see the ending's Author Notes for more information, though I wish you'd read the story first.
You might be wondering why Brendan felt like he had to heal his Pokemon immediately after he had just healed it on the S.S. Tidal. . . –shifty eyes– Well, er, that's cause he got this disease, y'see, and it makes one want to heal their Pokemon more often than is required.
Brendan: WHO has a disease?!
Me: Er. . er. . Back to the story!
Well, enjoy! And remember, reviews are muchly loved.. 3
Chapter Three: Unpleasant Encounters
New Bark Town—10:13, September 3: Monday
After wandering around the streets of New Bark Town for roughly twenty minutes, getting lost twice and winding up in the exact same spot four times, the three managed to find their way to the Pokemon Center. Maxson Maple, nose still buried determinedly in his magazine, ended up accidentally smacking into the counter of the Pokemon Center before looking up, shaking his head, and wandering to a nearby bright red sofa as Brendan and May registered for a room in the Pokemon Center.
The blue-haired boy was contentedly reading about various ways to breed certain moves onto certain Pokemon—he was mainly concerned with the Ralts family, for he intended his first Pokemon to be the Ralts he had once cared for about two years ago. Max wondered vaguely whether the Ralts he found was a girl or boy; if it was a girl, he would allow it to evolve naturally into a Gardevoir, though if it were a boy, Max thought he would rather it evolve into a Gallade. He then realized with an unexpected jolt in the pit of his stomach that Brendan had a Gallade—or so the black-haired teenager claimed, though Max dimly remembered Brendan to be a honest person on the whole—and resolved to ask Brendan just how he evolved his Kirlia into one.
However, the nine-year-and-one-month-old boy was distracted by his sister snatching the magazine irritably out of his hands. Unable to suppress an instinctive, "Hey!", he received only a sharp whack on his head from the very magazine that he had been reading. Eye-watering, he suppressed the urge to scream 'Child Abuse!', but he reluctantly followed his sister and Brendan up the escalator, gloomily eying the happy young Trainers on the first floor as they passed into the second floor.
"Two thirty-five," May's high-pitched voice sounded out a foot above Max's throbbing head, and the 'click' of a key being inserted inside a doorknob and then the resolute 'clack' of the doorknob being turned by a key later, Max found himself being ushered roughly into a well-lit room.
Clutching the large bump on his head and whimpering pitifully, the blue-haired boy spared a look around himself. The carpet was of a light beige color, the standard carpet-color for various Pokemon Centers, though this one had been interlaced with sepia-brown thread as if to accentuate 'New Bark Town's very name. There were two double-decker beds; the white sheets and pillows on each of the four beds were folded neatly into a pile on where the sleeper was supposed to lay his, her, or its head.
Max stretched and reluctantly took his hand off of his head. He heard May sling her dandelion fanny pack onto the wooden post of one of the beds; Brendan seemed to be tidying up the rectangular desk sticking out of the wall opposite of the door, and Max recalled vaguely that Brendan was a rather well-known 'neat freak'. The blue-haired boy wondered how, then, that the black-haired Trainer could stand running all of those errands for his father that implied more often than not a lot of dirtying of hands, and then he decided that Brendan probably didn't like all of them very much.
Regardless, the black-haired Trainer still plastered on a cheery expression most of the time. Max remembered that sometimes, however, his façade would slip and he would mutter pessimistic words under his breath; these brief mistakes, however, would instantly be corrected with a, 'Never mind, we'll do better next time!'
Sighing, Max clambered onto a lower-bed and, leaning against the wall, propped his magazine onto his knees and began reading again. He immersed himself in fast ways of breeding 'Dragon Dance' to Larvitar.
New Bark Town—11:45, September 3: Monday
Maybelline Sapphire Maple giggled girlishly as a crowd of children, far too young to be certified League Trainers, congregated around her Eevee, who was the center of attention. The DNA Pokemon appeared to be enjoying herself; hopping importantly on the edge of the fountain that was in the center of the Town Square, the coffee-colored Pokemon gave a series of meows that coaxed exclamations of delight from the girls and amazed raising-of-eyebrows from the boys.
"They seem to all really like your Eevee, May," Brendan, who was standing besides the brown-haired Coordinator at the time, noted carefully. Though it was rather obvious, if one took the time to examine the facial expressions of each and every one of the members of the rapidly growing crowd, he or she would notice that Brendan's words were true.
"Yeah," May agreed happily, as, one-by-one, several children strode up to the Eevee and brushed her hair admiringly, cooing 'aww's as they did so. She spared an oblique glance towards Brendan in the faint hope that he would remove his vest, though she began wondering why; at the thought that Brendan and her were sharing rooms, she could not help but allow a soft giggle to escape from her throat.
Brendan, thankfully, was too preoccupied with observing May's Eevee to notice the growing number of glances May was stealing at him. After two minutes, however, he turned towards her and remarked, "I gotta admit, May, your Eevee's fur is really healthy-looking. I take that you spend a lot of time brushing it?"
Nodding earnestly, May replied, "Oh, yes. I spend at least half an hour every day brushing her fur in the morning, and also a few minutes right before and after each Contest Appeal or Battle."
"That's a pretty good routine." Brendan said, looking sincerely impressed. May's heart swelled at his praise, even if it was not the best of the best—she had become so used to taking Drew's frequent criticisms that a single compliment was a rare thing that would come to her.
Thinking of Drew made May's insides clench and unclench. She didn't want to waste her time thinking about him, anyways; shouldn't May be thinking about more important things, like exactly how Brendan, Max, and her were to get to Cherrygrove City? But the more May didn't want to think about Drew, the more she did. The brunette recalled all those times Drew defeated her in the Contests—she recalled with a satisfying feeling the one time she managed to defeat Drew—and then, oddly enough, she recalled the one time she watched the vermillion sunset with him.
Wait, what? Why am I thinking about that beautiful, gorgeous, romantic sunset that I saw with Drew? May questioned herself, blinking repeatedly. Why indeed? Why was she thinking of the incredibly hot—wait, no, no—green-haired teenager and his rippled muscles? Why, especially when she was with Brendan? May had wanted to savor the moment in time she could steal a chat with the black-haired Trainer, her best friend who she had not seen for four and a half years.
Perhaps it was Brendan's own physique that reminded May so of Drew. Both were very attractive—wait, no, don't think that, May—and both seemed to emanate insane hormones that made May want to do crazy things, like leap off the nearest building simply to impress them. Once, in fact, right before a Contest, May had seriously pondered that last option but stopped herself in time, reasoning that if Team Rocket had decided to so unceremoniously show up, she could have been in serious trouble.
Reluctantly forcing her attention back to her Eevee, who had begun her regular 'Shadow Ball' routine for the entertainment of the kids, May noticed a teenaged girl loitering around a nearby shop. It wasn't the exact presence of the girl that bothered her, but rather the way that she would constantly shoot chartreuse glares at May's Eevee and tug menacingly on her own silky raven hair, which had been contained in a sleek ponytail held in place by a torn piece of periwinkle fabric.
She was just about to say how she did not like the look of the girl to Brendan, when suddenly the Trainer approached the crowd of children, who immediately quieted upon the black-haired girl's arrival, and said in a medium-pitched voice that sounded forcibly courteous, "Excuse me, but I could not help but notice your Eevee's—ah—Shadow Ball appeal. If it is your Eevee?"
May was utterly bewildered by the girl's question. She had expected something along the lines of an insult at the very least. But a polite inquiry? Something smelled rather fishy, though May could not place a finger on it. However, deciding that she should treat the black-haired girl with equal cordiality—even though Brendan narrowed his sanguine eyes suspiciously at the waiting girl—May answered, "Uh, yep. That's my Eevee." Then, unable to stop herself, she added, "She's one of my best Pokemon, a really good Contest Appealer, and a great battler at that. Although sometimes a little mischievous."
The black-haired girl, whom May noticed after closer examination was wearing a high-collared buttoned crimson waist coat that covered her actual shirt and most of her dark-clothed pants and whose hair was gray-tipped, seemed a little surprised, as if she did not expect May's answer to be so. Nevertheless, the girl continued to press, "So, you're a Coordinator?"
"Uh. . . yeah." May said uncertainly, unnerved by the girl's questions. Brendan's eyes now narrowed into slits, and his left eyebrow disappeared into his mass of black hair as he studied the black-haired girl.
"Oh, really?" The girl said, more to herself than anyone else. She drew closer, perturbing bottle-green eyes scanning May's expression and clothes with professional speed. May began feeling highly uncomfortably, though despite this noticed that the girl was of roughly equal height to herself. The brunette could have sworn that Brendan's right hand jerked towards the direction of his Pokeball-belt, but then the black-haired girl had suddenly drew away, leaving May feeling very relieved. "Huh."
The crowd of children was dissipating now that Eevee was no longer the 'center of attention'. The DNA Pokemon did not look especially glad or saddened, but somewhat miffed that the various kids had decided to leave after her display, though did not bark angrily after them—May thanked Latios that her Eevee was of a shy nature towards strangers (though for some reason, children were not included), else she might have leapt onto the black-haired girl in anger that the human had 'stolen her thunder'.
"Well, that's interesting." The black-haired girl mused, scratching the side of her chin. "Are you, perhaps, Maybelline Sapphire Maple of Petalburg City? Daughter to Norman and Caroline Maple? Sister of Maxson Maple?"
"Wha?" May asked, very much disoriented. How. . . how does this girl know my name? My whole name, too. That's pretty freaky. Shrugging the thought away, she assumed this was because of her father's near-celebrity status and her own success in the Contests. "Er. . . yes. And you are?"
"Mimi. I'm a Pokemon Trainer," 'Mimi' replied so immediately May blinked twice before registering the Trainer's words. Brendan's ruby eyes seemed to flash with sudden recognition, but then the black-haired girl turned so abruptly to him that his gloved right hand actually found a Pokeball on his belt and tightened its grip on it before relaxing almost just as suddenly. "And would you be Brendan Ruby Birch of Littleroot, Hoenn? Son of the esteemed Professor Robert and Ruby Birch?"
"Uh. . . That would be me, yes." Brendan answered hesitatingly. The eyebrow that had previously disappeared into his hair came once again into view, and then shot up with unprecedented speed once more; and for some reason, Brendan touched the covered upper-left section of his forehead self-consciously.
"I thought so. But why are you traveling with Ms. Maple over here? Oh, wait, you two are childhood friends, how could I forget?" Mimi corrected herself, and then gave a mirthless sort of bark of laughter. May began feeling very suspicious; how did the girl know that Brendan and her were old friends? What is Mimi, some sort of stalker? Shuddering, May feebly lifted her Pokeball in her right hand and returned her Eevee, then protectively stuffed the DNA Pokemon's Pokeball into her dandelion fanny pack.
"Wait. . . How do you know?" Brendan asked suspiciously.
"I have. . . my sources," Mimi answered evasively, shrugging it off with a gloved maroon hand.
"Would you care to tell us exactly who or what these sources are?" Brendan pressed harshly. May didn't know whether to pat Brendan on the shoulder for being so brave or to flee for her life; Mimi's upper amaranth-red lip was curling into a vicious snarl, and her bare fingers spasmed dangerously towards the direction of her waist, where one traditionally kept their Pokeballs on a belt. But a whirl of a dark maroon coat later, the black-haired girl was gone, disappearing amidst the crowd that had formed in front of the Pokemart.
"Well, good riddance," May finally dared to mutter a solid minute after Mimi had left. She dared to unclench her fists and noticed that her nails, although gloved, had left eight deep scratches in her glove.
"Yeah." Brendan agreed, though sounding as if he were very far away. His angular face was pulled into a puzzled frown. "I just. . . her name sounded so familiar. And. . . I think I've seen her before, actually. Somewhere."
"You have?" May asked curiously.
"Yes. Hm. . . As for her name, I really forgot where I heard of it; maybe a magazine article somewhere or something like that. It's just that, I think I've seen her in Mossdeep City before. . . Or was it Ever Grande?"
"Mossdeep?" May queried, befuddled.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think it was Mossdeep. She was loitering around a cluster of houses, one of them, I think, was Steven Stone's very house." Brendan wondered aloud, pressing his thin lips into a line. "But let's stop dwelling on uncomfortable memories. We still have lots of catching up to do! I'm curious about this 'Harley' guy you were talking about earlier. Do you really think he was gay?"
Relieved that they were no longer discussing the mysterious black-haired Trainer, May directed her attention into answering his question, "Yes, yes, there's no mistakening it. . ."
New Bark Town—12:03, September 3: Monday
"Well! It's time for lunch!" Brendan Ruby Birch heard May exclaim from next to him. Startled out of his reverie of staring absent-mindedly at May's beautiful dark goldenrod locks, the black-haired Trainer nodded and they headed back towards the Pokemon Center after about a quarter of an hour of strolling around Town Square.
Soon after entering through the sliding door, Brendan strode over to the healing counter, where, thankfully, Nurse Joy had not yet left for her lunch break. The pink-haired lady nodded to acknowledge Brendan and May's arrival; without further ado, Brendan questioned her in what he hoped was a polite voice, "Could you please direct us to a nearby restaurant or grocery store?"
The pink-haired nurse paused for a few seconds to contemplate his question, before answering, "Well, yes. New Bark Town's Fresh Foods Grocery Store is actually quite well known around these parts. However, for lunch, I would suggest the Golden Ramen Shop. They're both on Main Street; there's no way you can't find them."
"Ah, thank you." Brendan replied courteously, tugging respectfully on an invisible hat, seeing as he did not wear his own when he came out with May. Then, turning towards the direction of the escalator, where the bow of May's red bandana was disappearing around a corner, Brendan sprinted up the moving staircase and barged through their room's door.
Max put down the breeding-related magazine he was reading to survey Brendan expectantly through his steel-rimmed glasses. May, who was just hanging her fanny pack on the bedpost, took it off again and tied her bag around her waist as Brendan stepped through the door. "Uh, Nurse Joy recommended a ramen shop on Main Street. So I guess we should be—"
Before the black-haired Trainer could even finish his sentence, May had put on a determined expression and had declared, "We're in!" and had dragged her brother out the door by the wrist. Sighing, Brendan could only smile at her enthusiasm for food—he found it rather cute—and follow after.
New Bark Town—07:00, September 4: Tuesday
Maybelline Sapphire Maple awoke to the sounds of cloth being folded. Groaning slightly, she forced herself to annoyingly crank open an eye, only to notice Brendan, clothed in his usual outfit, rapidly making his bed. Impressed with his speed, the brown-haired Coordinator reluctantly pulled herself out of bed to continue to watch Brendan. Lemon-colored sunlight was flooding through the window, white curtains of which had been drawn back.
The black-haired Trainer finished the task in under half a minute; without stopping, he proceeded to fold Max's bed, which was vacated. May could hear the sound of running water in the small bathroom jutting out of their room, and assumed that her brother was brushing his teeth or something like that.
Brendan acknowledged May's awakening with a cheeky grin. May returned the smile somewhat slowly, her ultramarine gaze fixed dreamily on the teenager, who continued to fold Max's sheets regardless of the fact that his childhood friend was staring at him for no reason. Deciding then that she might as well check the time, May looked towards the analog clock that hung on the wall opposite the window and noticed with a jolt in her stomach that it was a bare minute past seven a.m.
Grabbing her collared red blouse, long white layering shirt, and black shorts, May stretched luxuriously. She thought she saw Brendan looking at her, but when she rubbed all fatigue out of her eyes, the black-haired Trainer was walking out of the door, calling casually over his shoulder while slinging his emerald backpack over his back, "May, I'm going to the grocery store. I should be back in a bit, and then we can set off for Cherrygrove City."
Nodding, May waved in goodbye as the door swung shut. Feeling somewhat empty now that Brendan had left, the brown-haired Coordinator waited for her brother to finish. To pass the time, she folded her own bed, but the end result looked rather haphazard and May hoped that Nurse Joy would not mind.
After five minutes, the door to the bathroom opened, and Max stepped out, his Prussian blue hair still looking rather messy despite the fact that he had obviously attempted using water to try to smooth it down. In his small hands, Max still clutched a magazine entitled, 'NeoBattling'. Frowning at her brother's obsession with reading, May pushed passed the nine-year-old boy and stepped inside the bathroom.
At least Max hadn't made a huge mess in the sink. May locked the door shut behind herself and quickly swapped her nightgown for her usual day-wear, employing the 'fast-changing' method she had to learn on her journeys with Ash and Brock. Snatching up her toothbrush from the side of the porcelain white sink, May applied a pea-sized amount of 'Sharpedo'-brand toothpaste and began brushing her teeth.
Once she had finished, May hurriedly soaped her wet face and then splashed off all foam with the water. Gasping at the unexpected coldness of the water, May hurriedly found the gamboge-orange towel and began mopping her face with it until all moisture had been absorbed inside the towel.
Examining her appearance carefully in the mirror, May grabbed her cardinal-red comb which she had left on the sink the previous night and began combing her coffee-brown hair, wincing as she pulled it through a particularly nasty knot. Then, after deciding that her face was still looking a little, how to put it, unpolished, May dusted light carnation-pink powder onto her cheeks for a natural-looking blush, and then applied a little more; done with that, May spread a thin layer of cerise lipstick on her lips.
At last when she was finished, May looked at her reflection, satisfied, and snatched her hygienic items from the sink. Opening the door, May noticed to her surprise, Max and Brendan were standing outside, wearing impatient expressions; the former handed her a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich he had been holding in his left hand.
Gratefully, May devoured the food, and, looking at the clock to her left, noticed that it was seven fifty-five. Sheepishly, the brown-haired Coordinator realized that she had taken quite a bit to finish applying her makeup, and, hoping desperately that her brother and Brendan would not notice, began sliding towards her bed (which she noticed that Brendan had remade, most likely because he was unable to stand the sight of anything out-of-order).
However, her brother ostensibly could not sympathize with May's feminine needs, and he ground out, "May, you were in there for forty-seven minutes."
"Was I?" May asked innocently.
"Yes, you were," Brendan confirmed, wearing a startled expression on his face. "How come it takes you so long to apply make-up?"
"What?" May asked, flabbergasted. "You can tell I'm wearing makeup?"
Snorting, Brendan said, "Of course."
"But. . . I wore makeup all the time when I was around Ash, Brock, Max, Drew,"—for some reason, Brendan cringed when May said the green-haired Coordinator's name—"Harley, or Soledad," May protested, frowning. "And none of them ever said I wore makeup. . ."
"True, I never did notice," Max admitted lamely.
It was now Brendan's time to frown. "They couldn't tell? I thought it was kind of obvious."
Put-off a little by Brendan's comment, May retaliated, utterly deadpan, "Well, why don't you help me put on makeup?" She had initially intended the statement as a joke. Brendan, for some reason, touched the right part of his headbanded forehead, wearing a clouded look, before his expression cleared and his face revealed complete seriousness.
"So be it." The black-haired Trainer declared formally, motioning with his right hand for May's make-up bag. May, not knowing if Brendan was kidding or not, uneasily handed it over, ignoring her brother's horrified look.
It turned out that Brendan was being completely serious. Half an hour later, May was sitting in the single wooden chair in the room, feeling rather dazzled and staring wonderingly at her expression in the burgundy hand-held mirror Brendan was proudly holding up. She didn't look bad at all—on the contrary, she looked absolutely. . . and there was only one way to put it. . . magnificent. Max was speechless, while Brendan could only coo in an overly girlishly way, "Aww, May, you look so cute."
Blushing furiously at Brendan's compliment (albeit sort of wrong), May straightened up and turned towards the door, fully intending to display her makeup-ed beauty to the world, but the black-haired Trainer's gloved hand found her forearm and prevented her from exiting the room.
Flinching with. . . pleasure? at the contact, May turned to face Brendan, confused. For some reason, she felt oddly disappointed when he released his grip. "Oh, you probably don't want to go out right now. . . your red nail polish is still drying." Brendan explained, indicating the still glazed-looking alizarin-red paint on May's fingers.
"Okay." May agreed, though impatience made her blurt out five seconds later, "Um, but I thought we were going? I mean, you guys could help me open the door and stuff. . ."
"Yes, yes," Brendan answered so immediately that it startled May. Then, with incredible quickness, the black-haired Trainer darted into the bathroom, procuring all of his and Max's bathroom-related things and stuffed them into two plastic bags he seemed to magically conjure out of his backpack. Handing over Max's transparent to his sister, who, stuttering a little, stowed it in her own bag.
Without further ado, Brendan lunged forwards and pushed open the door for May. Feeling important, May beamed at Brendan, who, to her surprise, blushed an unmanly shade of pink, and then stepped through the door, heading for the escalator. She heard Max and Brendan follow after, and, an inexplicable warm feeling bubbling pleasantly in the pit of her stomach.
Route 29—08:13, September 4: Tuesday
Brendan Ruby Birch let out an exasperated sigh as May collapsed onto the ground for the fourth time that they had set out just fifteen minutes ago from New Bark Town.
As of now, the brown-haired Coordinator was throwing her hands into the air, wailing in a desperate sort of way, "I've failed! I can't go any further!"
"Come on, now, May," Brendan chided, reluctantly helping her to her feet. He had a feeling that she was partially doing this to get his attention, though why, he could not fathom. May had expressed nothing but pure bliss when she was talking about Contests, and here they were, heading to the first Contest Hall-holding City, and she was insisting upon stopping every three or four minutes. But, like she did the last three times when Brendan helped her to her feet again, May bounced up happily and began walking forwards with brimming vigor.
Scratching his white-cloth hat in bemusement, Brendan beckoned Max to follow, who was finishing up his magazine and twisted his thin mouth into a grimace as he reluctantly strode forwards, spectacled eyes still fixed on some article or whatnot about double battle strategies. The black-haired Trainer thought that Max could probably just as him or May for tips, but he decided not to intrude upon the younger boy's recreation and instead just nudged him forwards. The blue-haired boy quickened his pace a little in return.
May skipped ahead, humming a merry tune. It sounded eerily familiar to Brendan—the song mirrored the gentle flow of the waves, loud at first and then poetically melting into soft. Something in Brendan's mind clicked, and Brendan realized that it was a tune his mother had taught him when he was small, and Brendan had taught to May and Wally on one of their 'expeditions' to the wilderness between Petalburg and Littleroot (much to May's disapproval, though.)
Without really thinking, Brendan began humming the deeper version of the song, and for some reason, Max joined in. Now, Brendan had absolutely no idea how Max came to learn the song, but he did. Then again, the black-haired Trainer supposed the tune was rather catchy.
They followed this pattern for perhaps another half hour. Brendan quietly observed the scenery in the meantime—grass grew untamed on the dry, dirt path, and a forest, perhaps half a mile or so on either side of the group, spanned the wild backdrop of the route. It was rather amazing that they hadn't come across a Wild Pokemon yet.
As if their luck had suddenly ran out, a nearby patch of grass rustled. Tensing, Brendan immediately drew back his right leg to face the possible threat and his right hand immediately found his Swampert's Pokeball on his green belt. May stopped bouncing to eyeball the rustling grass and Max lowered his magazine with interest.
A copper-colored bird hopped out of the patch of grass, chirping and looking at Brendan with widened eyes. Surely the adorable Pokemon couldn't inflict much harm? The black-haired Trainer's heart melted at the Pidgey's large amber eyes, but he steeled it as the bird-like Pokemon rudely flapped its wings, causing a gust of dust to swirl around Brendan, obscuring his vision.
Feeling stupid for not sending out his Swampert when he should have, Brendan could only wave his mostly-bare arms around in an attempt to get rid of all the soil flying about in the air. Coughing pitifully, Brendan dared open one dark carmine eye to survey the scene. To his surprise, May had sent out her Blaziken, being remarkably quick on the uptake.
The Blaze Pokemon, upon finding the 'threat' huddled in a small feathery ball on the ground, merely chirruped in distaste and, without even waiting for an order from his Trainer, began slashing violently at the Pidgey with a 'Blaze Kick' technique.
However, the bird-like Pokemon avoided the fire attack easily by employing a well-timed 'Quick Attack'. The Blaziken ended up burning a foot-sized patch of grass. May looked both annoyed that her Pokemon had not done what she had said and both impressed by the Pidgey's quickness, but Latios knew that Brendan had seen faster.
Though his hand tightened instinctively around his Swampert's Pokeball, Brendan still did not send out the Mud Fish Pokemon, as he was busy observing May and her Blaziken's battle techniques. "Blaziken, try to hit it with another 'Blaze Kick'!" May interjected rather unnecessarily, seeing as the Blaze Pokemon had already fired up his right leg and was speeding furiously towards the Pidgey.
But, mirroring last time, the Pidgey dodged with another 'Quick Attack'. Blaziken clucked his rust-colored beak together in frustration, and without even waiting for an order from May, charged towards the Pidgey again with a blazing leg, and managed to catch the tail feathers of the bird-like Pokemon before it once again darted away.
So that's how it is, eh? Brendan thought to himself, very much unimpressed by May's battling skills. She lacked even the ability to control her Pokemon; Brendan had thought that, at least basing his inferences on her Eevee's 'Shadow Ball' appeal combinations, she was a relatively competent Coordinator, though evidently he was wrong. However, the black-haired Trainer did not relish the idea of May still being absolutely clueless about Pokemon like she had been four years ago, so he did not conclude anything about her skills on the small skirmish with the Pidgey.
May's Blaziken, meanwhile, was still stubbornly 'Blaze Kicking' the Pidgey, despite his Coordinator shouting, "No, Blaziken! Use 'Flamethrower', use 'Flamethrower!" in a most shrill and feminine voice. Brendan noted that the Blaziken, despite being exceedingly disobedient and strong-willed (which is supposed to be a good trait most of the time, Brendan thought to himself dryly), had relatively good control over his fire. Too bad he was going for power rather than accuracy—Brendan knew that it was the reverse that was required when dealing with opponents many times smaller than oneself. The black-haired Trainer felt his eyebrows twitch repeatedly.
Unable to stand the pathetic sight of May's Blaziken chirping angrily after the highly evasive Pidgey, who returned Blaziken's apparent 'swearing' with a few jovial trills of song of its own, Brendan whipped out his Swampert, who appeared in a flash of red light. May, who had fallen to her knees and looked as if she were going to erupt in tears, suddenly brightened at the appearance of the Mud Fish Pokemon, though looked considerably disheartened when the Swampert promptly shot a white-taupe stream of ice-cold water at her face.
"Not the time, Zuzu," Brendan admonished, addressing his Swampert via nickname with a small grin at May's wet, face, browned by unfailing 'Muddy Water' attack. Zuzu grumbled cordially in answer, and turned towards the direction Brendan was indicating feverishly with a pointed finger. "Hurry! 'Ice Beam' on that Pidgey!"
"Swamm," The Swampert replied obediently, unhinging his wide jaws and allowing a small, translucent azure sphere to materialize rapidly in front of his parted mouth. Blaziken, who was in the act of bringing another 'Blaze Kick' down on the Pidgey, stopped and turned questioningly towards Zuzu, who had allowed three separate streaks of blinding icy-blue light to careen towards the Pidgey.
The small bird Pokemon did not stand a chance against the well-aimed 'Ice Beam'—within half a second, the Pidgey had been frozen solid. Brendan returned his Swampert with a "Good job, Zuzu," and could not help but allow a smug smile to flit his face.
May picked up the frozen statue of the Pidgey and ran a hand up and down the Pidgey's right wing, breathless as she marveled it. Blaziken walked over haughtily, clucking his beak in heavy disapproval and tossing his light-cream feathery mane showily; Brendan could tell quite clearly that the Blaze Pokemon was putting on an act of bravado for May, but the brown-haired Coordinator, being the dense albeit very cute girl that she was, had neglected to notice, which only seemed to fuel Blaziken's bravado.
Brendan reflectively tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully considering why Blaziken had acted so. . . of his own accord. After pondering the question for a bit and meticulously observing Blaziken's façade of huffing around looking important, the black-haired Trainer came to the conclusion that the Blaze Pokemon was, perhaps, a little ignored in the light of May's other, smaller, and arguably 'cuter' Pokemon, or perhaps he was simply uncomfortable in his newly-evolved form. The Blaziken didn't move very smoothly, in any case, and often gave the appearance of having enlarged very quickly in a short period of time, which was typical of freshly-evolved Pokemon.
"Woah. . . You froze it," May finally said, lifting the still-frozen Pidgey to the light. Sniggering at May's delayed reaction, Brendan could only shake his head. Out of the corners of his eyes, the black-haired Trainer noticed Max bury his nose in a different magazine.
"Yes, normally that is what 'Ice Beam' does when it hits a Pokemon," Brendan remarked sarcastically, unable to stop the dry comment from rolling off the tip of his tongue. May laid the Pidgey back on the ground to let it thaw, evidently not wanting to capture it; then, she straightened up and faced Brendan, playfully curling her upper lip into a small grin. Brendan thought his heart skipped a beat—it had not been so long ago when he had thought he would never see her radiant smile again.
"Anyway, Brendan, I guess we should get moving, huh?" May asked, nudging the black-haired Trainer playfully in the side. Brendan could not stifle the abnormally high chuckle that escaped his throat, and, embarrassed of his display of feminism, he straightened his black-and-orange vest importantly. The brown-haired Coordinator giggled quietly at his actions, and for some reason Brendan began feeling very important.
"Oh, yes," He replied, suavely rearranging the Pokeballs on his belt so that his Milotic was at the front of his team lineup, for no apparent reason. Glancing for a brief moment (out of habit, really) over May's shoulders, Brendan noticed that May's Blaziken was, well, sulking among the grasses; a small purple Pokemon which Brendan decided was a Rattata was squirming underneath the Blaze Pokemon's sharp claws. Woah. That Blaziken sure caught that Rattata fast. And there I was, thinking that May had no battling skills. . .
Without saying anything more, May began bouncing ahead, clearly forgetting to return her Blaziken, who seemed highly offended by his Coordinator's lack of care. Brendan, too, began walking, but he coughed significantly and signaled the Blaziken, who clucked his beak at being pointed at. The brown-haired Coordinator noticed, however, which was why Brendan had coughed and pointed in the first place, though she interpreted it differently.
"Why, Brendan! That's a wonderful idea! We really should send our Pokemon out, I mean, it'll be their first glimpse of Johto!" May beamed, looking at Brendan as if he were a genius. The black-haired Trainer raised an eyebrow as the girl sent out three other Pokemon from her fanny pack.
A tottering Munchlax was what solidified first, most likely owing to his density. His eyes, small and beady, searched the area for food—finding none, he began sleeping on the spot, drooping his pointed head onto his narrow shoulders.
May's Eevee sprang out from her Pokeball with much energy, and proceeded to dig several three-foot diameter holes in the ground, much to May's dismay. Brendan chuckled at the DNA Pokemon's antics, however; it was good to see that his friend's Pokemon were not deprived of personality.
Squirtle was the last to exit his Pokeball; why was not apparent at first, but it soon became clear as the Small Turtle Pokemon, at the sight of Brendan looking inquisitively at his dappled dark-beige shell, he squealed and promptly ran to hide, quivering, behind May's socked legs.
"He's a shy one, ain't he?" Brendan asked, gesturing towards Squirtle, who squealed again and sucked himself into his shell.
"Yeah, yeah, he is," May said, bending down to nudge the Pokemon out of his shell. "He's only a little Squirtle."
"He looks on the verge of evolution, though," Brendan mused, tilting his head to the right. "Looks to be of power level twenty. Strange. The average for Squirtle evolution is at level sixteen or so. Perhaps your Squirtle is a slow evolver."
More out of interest than anything else, Brendan dropped to his knees to closer examine the Squirtle, who, very shakily, allowed Brendan to come closer. "Hm. Your Squirtle looks relatively strong, though his strength is in his defenses and endurance."
"Wow, really?" May asked admiringly, also dropping to her knees to mimic Brendan. "I can't tell. How do you—?"
"Lots of practice." Brendan replied before May finished her sentence. It also helps if you have a very demanding Professor-father breathing down your neck. Pulling himself up to better inspect May's other Pokemon, he noticed that May's Eevee was vigorously shoving 'Shadow Balls' into the holes she had dug in the ground. Amused, Brendan watched as a huge, black-and-yellow explosion came out of the ground, not enlarging any of the said holes but creating a dazzling effect nonetheless. The combination was perfect for any Contest that did not care too much for its Hall's floor's condition.
There wasn't much to say about May's Munchlax. He was still sleeping, standing upright. It also looks like it's close to evolution. Pity I forgot how Munchlax evolves. Brendan thought to himself. Also looks like it's competent in endurance and attack as well as defenses, though lacking in speed.
May's Blaziken was chasing after yet another Rattata, and managed to catch the rat-like Pokemon underneath his talons a few seconds later. Brendan revered the Blaze Pokemon's speed and attack power, though he seemed to be lacking in defenses and hovering about average at endurance—already, the Blaziken was looking tired, not to mention very much harassed for some reason. Perhaps that was because Eevee was digging holes in a circle around him.
"We should really get going," Brendan remarked, wondering if he should send out his Pokemon. No, not yet. Not yet.
"Yup!" May agreed, whacking her brother on the forearm lightly to get him moving. Max began trudging forwards at Slugma pace, but hurried up when she whacked him again; the brown-haired Coordinator began bouncing forwards, and Brendan unconfidently beckoned May's Pokemon to follow. To his surprise, they did, though Blaziken only did so when it became apparent that they were, indeed, continuing their journey.
Brendan took it to admiring his scenery, and occasionally gesturing at the surrounding landscape with his hands for the benefit of his Pokemon, who were all in their respective Pokeballs, clipped on his jade belt. May slowed down her hop after a while, and resumed a normal walk; Brendan was simply glad that she didn't stop in said melodramatic manner.
An hour later, Brendan began wondering if they were actually going in the right direction—by his reckon, they had traveled four or five miles already, though admittedly, they had been sidetracked by minor battles with various Pidgey and Rattata. Surely there would be a signpost or something to show them that they were going the right way? He cursed himself silently for forgetting to purchase a Town Map at New Bark Town's Pokemart.
Another hour passed. May and Max's paces had both deteriorated to that of two Slowpoke's, and Brendan felt his own speed begin to fall. His legs ached horribly, and he stopped in mid-stride to pull out his bottle of sunblock lotion from his bag and smother it on his slightly pink-looking exposed arms and face. It didn't help instantly, so Brendan applied another layer. He began feeling somewhat like he was wearing a thick mask.
The black-haired Trainer offered the sunblock to May and Max, who were both looking red-faced. May accepted it gratefully and began squirting generous amounts of tangerine yellow cream onto her hands (after removing her gloves) and then began smothering it all over herself. Max waited impatiently for his turn. When May and Max were both finished, Max tossed Brendan his lotion back, and he noticed that the weight of the bottle had been reduced significantly.
He opened his mouth to suggest that they should stop and take a rest—even May's Munchlax was showing signs of tiring, and from experience Brendan knew that Munchlax were very durable Pokemon; then again, the Big Eater Pokemon could simply be hungry, which was a plausible explanation. However, Brendan could not blatantly ignore the fact that May's Squirtle was looking dehydrated—and since Squirtle was a Water-typed Pokemon, perhaps the temperature was higher than Brendan had calculated—but before he could voice any of his observations, May's sapphire eyes had suddenly glazed over with glee. And then, without a premonition of any sort, the brown-haired Coordinator pointed excitably to the line on the horizon.
Brendan squinted his eyes towards the direction she was pointing at—he had bad eyesight, and it was only out of vanity that he didn't wear his glasses all the time—and could barely make out a blurred figure. However, despite Brendan's misgivings and his perpetually horrible vision, the black-haired Trainer was convinced that the person on the horizon had green hair.
A/N:
Well! I hope that read wasn't too long. I also hoped that you liked it.
I know this chapter was kind of long and drawn out, but I had to introduce Mimi somehow as well as further define Brendan's personality; I'm rather slow at it, however. . .
Anyway, I realize that this chapter was mainly Hoennshipping. –glances around nervously– What? I haven't been ambushed by dedicated Contestshippers yet? A marvel. In any case, from the next chapter on, there will be more of Contestshipping and the Hoennshipping versus Contestshipping love triangle. Oh, you can trust me.
I also want some advice: Should Drew travel with Brendan, May, and Max? Yes? No? I kind of want to put him in, but the thing is, traveling with BMM is kind of against Drew's nature. So, I really want your advice.
And now for the OCs. Yes. Mimi is probably the only OC who will show up once in a while (but definitely will show up) in the story. However, I do need some OCs to occupy the positions of average-leveled Trainers/Coordinators to experienced Trainers/Coordinators (and possibly travel companions); therefore, if you have an OC that you think will somehow fit into the story, I won't mind if you leave a little description of him/her in your review.
Please, though, fill out the following form for OC submission. You can twist it around a little, but I would like you to have the below content.
Name (please provide at least a first name or a nickname):
Age:
Gender:
Occupation (Trainer/Coordinator/etc.):
Skill Level (beginning-experienced):
Height:
Eye Color:
Hair Color:
General Appearance (clothes/physique/jewelry/etc.):
Pokemon Team (maximum six, no legends, include move sets and nicknames if applicable):
Personality:
Desired First Appearance (e.g. Random battle/Contest/Pokemon Center. . .):
Desired Appearance Number (one chapterone appearance) (no more than five, please):
Other (Optional):
Love Interest (canon character) (Optional):
Please submit no more than five OCs per reviewer.
Well, that's all I got to say for the end-notes. Oh, and please review! (: