Greetings! Welcome to the seventh installation of Natural Disturbances!
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon or anything of the sort. But, oh boy, do I wish I do.
Thanks To: Daydreamer Gal for beta reading this story! (: Everyone give her a round of applause! –claps–
This chapter should be probably rated a high T. Why? Some suggestive themes on Giovanni's part. But I was just trying to be in-character. :x
I've just noticed I've been exceedingly lazy with the majority of the shippings I said I'd put in this story. . . I'm really sorry if I've been disappointing anyone. . . -sigh- and I call myself a Twinleaf, Quest, Crystal/SpecialRock, Origin, Penguin, and Ikarishipper. . . -sigh- Well, I'll definitely try to incorporate more these in the future! Like, when, the plot actually gets started. . .
Finally! The beloved Team Rocket makes an appearance. (Just read.)
But, on with the story!
Chapter Seven: The Battle Tournament II
Outskirts of Pallet Town, Kanto
Jessie, James, and Meowth sighed in exasperation. The scarlet-haired woman was absentmindedly twirling her brightly-colored locks, a contemplative and annoyed expression on her face. James was looking desperate—his usually plotting face was twisted into a plain grimace, while Meowth was pacing on the ground.
"Listen wup, Jessie 'n James," The cat-like Pokemon said at last in his slurry accent, bristling his cream-colored fur. The two humans simultaneously turned to look at Meowth with bored expressions plastered onto their faces.
"What is it this time, Meowth?" Jessie demanded in her usual high, womanly voice.
"Yes, what is it?" James asked in his usual deep, somewhat sad voice.
"I came wup with a pwan!" Meowth said, a cunning grin sneaking onto his wide face. The two Rockets, who had looked away out of boredom, looked back at the cat-like Pokemon with renewed interest.
"What plan?" Jessie asked, curiosity piqued.
"A pwan to get the twerp's Pikachu, that's what!" Meowth declared valiantly, pushing himself easily to his two feet.
"But we weren't invited to the party, remember?" James interrupted sulkily, running a hand plaintively through his blue hair.
"Who cares! We'll kwash their stupid pwarty. Serves 'em white fer not inviting us," The Pokemon continued with vigor, a mischievous gleam crawling into his dark eyes. "And thwen, when everyone's busy wooking for who caused the commwotion, we'll snwatch the twerp's Pikachu! But fwirst, we mwust infwiltwate dware system."
"That's an awesome idea!" Jessie and James beamed. The former Rocket's blue blob of a Wobuffet was beamed out of his Pokeball on his own accord and gave a resolute sort of "Wobb!"
Pallet Town, Kanto
Rapidash came hurling, hurling, hurling, until. . .
May Sapphire Maple watched as, right in the nick of time, Skitty bravely hurled herself away from Rapidash, who was a mere two feet above the Kitten Pokemon's head at the time. The Fire Horse Pokemon, unable to veer off course in such a short period of time, consequentially crashed straight into the ground, up heaving so much dust that May coughed bitterly for twenty seconds before she dared reopen her eyes.
When at last May dared to look, she saw that Rapidash was lying, rather still, in a foot-deep horse-shaped hole in the ground. Tyson, forgetting all dignity, was rushing forwards at an alarmingly fast speed, crying, "Rapidash! Are you all right?"
Meanwhile, Tracey lifted his flag to May's side, and declared formally, "And the match goes to May Maple of Littleroot and her Skitty." He took a slight pause and then continued with a, "Now I should probably be going to my own match. . ."
"Yes! I won! Whoopee!" May cried happily, jumping up and down in the air. Skitty, too, joined the celebration and flew into the air, propelled by a 'Whirlwind-Assist' joint move, and landed on May's shoulder when she came back down. The brown-haired Coordinator cringed, however, as Tyson humbly withdrew his Pokemon after dabbing with what appeared to be a wet cloth at his Pokemon's bruises. May noticed sullenly that the grass where Rapidash had landed had been trampled flat, and May sincerely hoped that Delia and the other residents of Pallet Town would not care.
She shook hands with Tyson, and said in what she hoped was a tactful way, "Your Rapidash was really strong. I don't know if I could have beaten you if Skitty hadn't dodged on time."
"No. . . I just can't raise Pokemon properly. . ." Tyson murmured, tearing his green-yellow gaze away from May's. May instantly began feeling very sorry indeed for Tyson, but what could she do about it?
The crowd began applauding for May and Tyson, and soon a whole group of people swamped her, congratulating the winner and offering consolation to the loser. May thought she saw Dawn pat the downtrodden blond Trainer on the back, which immediately cheered him up, but then she left, presumably for her own match, and Tyson saddened just as immediately. But at the moment, May's main concern was in finding Brendan and Max and seeing how they were faring.
When she managed to find 'Field One', which was the field in which Brendan and Max's battle was staged, May was surprised to see the entire battlefield covered entirely in smoke. However, she didn't have to wait very long, as the smoke soon cleared, revealing Brendan's Gallade and Max's Grovyle standing opposite each other.
The Blade Pokemon didn't look very tired, and had a perceptibly bored expression on his chalky white face. Mirroring his Pokemon's look, Brendan looked positively bored out of his skull. Max's Grovyle, however, was sweating, panting, and basically looking very much defeated. The blue-haired boy, too, was sweating, panting, and looking very much defeated.
May didn't really know who to cheer for—if she chose to cheer for Brendan, whom May felt more like cheering for at the present moment, Max would throw a fit when the match was over. On the contrary, if May cheered for Max, she would be kidding a lot of people. . .
Before May could reach a conclusion, however, Brendan gave a dismissive flick of his hand and muttered, "Finish it off, Ruru."
Charging forwards possessing speed the likes of May had never perceived possible before, the psychic-and-fighting typed Pokemon raised one long bladed arm, the muscles of which tensed and caused the green blade protruding out of Gallade's elbow to glow a brilliant neon green. May recognized the attack immediately as 'Leaf Blade'.
Max opened his mouth to bark an order, but Gallade had already slammed into the Grovyle, knocking the Tree Gecko Pokemon flying backwards. The Grovyle's limber body skidded ungracefully across the grass, until he gave a final sort of twitch and laid still, one eye closed and the other jade-green one defocused.
Professor Oak, who had been refereeing the match half-heartedly, cringed as Grovyle showed all the symptoms of being completely knocked out. Then, the old professor reluctantly raised his right hand, pointing towards Brendan and his Gallade's direction, and declared in a drawling, scratchy voice, "The win goes to Brendan Birch of Littleroot Town and his Gallade, Ruru."
The brown-haired Coordinator dashed to help her brother, who had collapsed on his knees, losing his mind, and began sobbing hysterically. Irritated but not wanting to appear so, May gingerly eased the Grovyle's Pokeball out of her brother's tight fist and helped him return his Grovyle, since he looked incapable of doing so.
Noticing with vague interest out of the corner of her eyes that Brendan and his Gallade were slowly approaching, and that the mass of silky emerald hair that was Drew's had surfaced somewhere in the crowd, May lifted her brother to his feet and carefully dropped his Grovyle's Pokeball into Max's trembling hands.
Without even sparing his sister a glance, Max choked back a wail and promptly fled to the safety of the Ketchum residence. May felt her eyebrow twitch dryly, but then she felt Brendan's somewhat floral and very fresh cologne drift over from her right. Turning around, she greeted him with a sincere smile and an ushered, "You and your Gallade did great! I'm glad you won!"
To her surprise, Brendan's pallid upper lip twitched and he confessed in a low voice, "No offense is meant, but your brother was. . . ah. . . rather easy to defeat." As if confirming this, Ruru gave a formal sort of grunt.
"Yeah, I know," May said with a small sigh, turning one dark blue eye to watch Max's small figure push Ash's house's door open and streak inside.
"How long has he been a Trainer?" Brendan queried, a curious glint in his ruby eyes. He jerked his slim neck so that his silver hair were not falling into his face, and for some obscure reason, May thought it horribly attractive; which, as strange as it was to think, was comparable to Drew's constant habit of flicking his hair. But, erasing all hair-related thoughts from her mind, May focused her attention on answering Brendan's question.
"About. . . six months, maybe." She answered truthfully, counting back the months on her bare fingers.
"Hm. I suppose he is pretty good for a Trainer of his experience. Most Treeko evolve at nine months. Unless, of course, Max had given Rare Candies to him. I suppose his Grovyle's approximate power level is thirty-three out of a hundred, right now." Brendan mused aloud, scratching the side of his cheek. May was fairly impressed by Brendan's arguably universal knowledge of Pokemon; though, May had never heard of a way to calculate a Pokemon's true power level before. Perhaps some new-fangled device could, but being able to figure out a precise level of a Pokemon just from battling it, that was probably something.
Drew sauntered over, interrupting May's train of thought and Brendan's verbal ponderings. Flicking his hair most sardonically, he said smoothly, "That was a quick battle."
Unsure of whom Drew was addressing, May turned to Brendan, who answered simply, "Yes." Expectedly, Brendan was glaring at the green-haired Coordinator; again, exactly why, May didn't know.
Then, turning towards May so that it was now obvious who he was addressing, Drew continued, "The Maples are sure a group of poor battlers."
May's eyes widened in indignation. "Hey! That's not true!" She noticed Brendan bite his lips, as if holding back an insult or two to throw at Drew.
"How do you explain this, then?" Drew asked slickly, raising his right hand and revealing a small stopwatch he was holding. Where he obtained the watch, May did not know, did not want to know, but it was the number on the flat, gray surface that worried May the most: Two minutes and twelve seconds?! Impossible! Surely Max couldn't suck that much?
Her throat feeling inexplicably sticky, May found herself unable to answer. Fortunately, though, Brendan burdened himself with the task. "That's pretty good, actually, considering that Max is only six months into being a Trainer."
Raising an eyebrow, Drew answered, "You do realize that the boy's been traveling for four solid years with his sister and a group of. . . ah. . . reasonably well-experienced Trainers?"
Looking harassed, Brendan replied, "Well. . . er. . ."
With a triumphant and disgustingly smug smile on his face, Drew redirected his piercing emerald gaze onto May's face—her heartbeat quickened, though she did not know why—and opening his mouth, May heard the words roll out, as cool as ice, "My point proven."
Feeling heat rise to her face, May retorted hotly, "For your information, Max has a lot of Pokemon to juggle Training, and just because he's seen us battle, doesn't mean that. . . er. . . doesn't necessarily mean that he can battle."
"Lame." Was all Drew said, and again he flicked his hair.
Damn.
Viridian City Gym, Viridian City, Kanto
"Those slow idiots," Giovanni muttered to himself, dark eyes darting over the scene as the various scientists, black-clothed Grunts, and slightly more colorful Administrators scuttle around himself, preparing the dozens of Rocket helicopters for launch. The Leader had never fully registered the fact that it took quite a while to refuel, check, and prepare for flight fifty-seven helicopters all at once. Evidently, though, it was. Giovanni began questioning the wisdom of bringing the entire—well, almost entire—Kanto base with him, but decided that he would need a grand entrance to wherever he would be going.
Behind him, the shimmering green Dragon floated several feet above the ground, long neck bent slightly so that he would not slam into the ceiling, which would severely displease Giovanni. Mewtwo was hovering in mid-air, a purple, translucent bubble surrounding itself, protecting itself from any potential attacks. The Two Gods of Electricity and Fire each perched, respectively, on different chandeliers.
Twisting the diamond watch on his left wrist, Giovanni scowled nastily at a young scientist as he tripped over his own shoes and fell flat on his face in front of the Leader. Straightening himself up awkwardly, the spectacled worker readjusted his now-broken glasses and said in a trembling, nervous voice, "Sorry, Boss, I was just—"
"Acting like a complete nuisance. Team Rocket does not need members like these," Giovanni interrupted coldly, his beetle-black eyes glittering with malice. Shrinking backwards, the scientist squeaked something that could possibly be an apology, but Giovanni simply dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He had no time for dregs like the scientist, who couldn't even walk properly, and besides, there would be plenty of time in the future, after his plan had been satiated, to take care of such garbage.
Turning his attention to the four activated controllers sprawled out luxuriously in front of himself on a table, Giovanni once again indulged himself in savoring the utter brilliance of his plan. The sheer effort that had been put into just beginning the devious scheme was tremendous, but it had been worth every second of it. Butterfree fluttered in his stomach as he contemplated how he would go on to catching the last of the Legendary Bird Trio—Moltres and Zapdos had been disturbingly easy to capture, and he expected that Articuno would be no different.
After that, he would travel to Johto, where the stupid helicopters were already prepared, and where Domino, the lovely blond Administrator, would run a much more effective campaign than his blundering Kanto Administrators were doing. And, later, perhaps, Giovanni could get the deliciously curvy lady to run some 'errands' of his own. . .
Brushing the enticing thought away from his mind, Giovanni settled himself with admiring his ruby-and-sapphire encrusted gray controllers again, though his attention occasionally darted to Mewtwo when the psychic-typed Pokemon would give disgruntling noises in his meditation.
Pallet Town, Kanto
While May was arguing angrily with Drew, a serene, bored-out-of-his-skull, yet very sexy Silver Carr was shifting his body weight from one leg to the other; tilting his head to one side as to allow his long, red-scarlet hair to fall into his scarlet eyes, the experienced Pokemon Trainer rubbed absent-mindedly at a sore in his neck. His gaze, however, would frequently dart to the willowy body of the hat-wearing brunette and linger there; both out of. . . need he admit it. . . slight infatuation and. . . something. . . so. . . familiar. . .
Maria or Marina or whatever she was called that Silver was battling gave a high-pitched squeak as Silver's Nidoking fired a series of rapid horn-jabs—a perfect Megahorn technique—at her Misdreavous, startling the red-haired Trainer out of his reverie. Putting on an irritated grimace at his enemy's practically palpable little confidence in battle, Silver muttered in his usual cold voice, "Another 'Megahorn' to finish off that pathetic excuse for a Pokemon."
Though he definitely saw Marina's sea-green eyes glaze with hurt, Silver did not care that much; and though he saw his friend-rival, Jimmy, shout encouraging words to the blue-haired girl, it was apparent that she was not hearing his words. Oddly enough, despite Silver's cold attitude, the cerulean-haired girl still seemed attracted towards Silver. (Jimmy didn't appear to like this, though he fought rather well to hide it amidst various choruses of 'You rock, and you rule!')
The only girl who the redhead had eyes—both eyes—out for, however, was Turquoise. If that was her name, since Silver had not dared ask her before. She had been far too busy conversing with 'Gary', if that was his name. A smirk rose to his lips as Silver remembered the obnoxious auburn-haired Trainer.
Then, reluctantly turning his attention back to the battle, Silver watched as his bulky purple Nidoking charged fervently towards the floating, grey-blue Pokemon. Marina tensed, and somehow managed to bark, "Little Miss, 'Double Team'!" (1) without squealing of any sort.
The Ghost-typed Pokemon emitted a high-pitched grunt—if that was possible, in any case—and began repeatedly doubling her image until a whole line of Little Miss's had formed in front of Silver's Nidoking, who was grumbling darkly and darting his dark-purple gaze from one false image to the next. The considerable crowd, consisting mostly of girls ogling Silver, much to his intense displeasure, gasped, and talk of 'What will Silver do?' sprang up in hushed conversations.
"About time," Silver muttered in response to Marina's move. He saw the girl's vivid blue bangs shake in fear—not without cause, for when Silver used more than half of his effort, most of his opponents were screwed for good. Shaking his own bangs out of his feline left eye, the redhead murmured to his Nidoking, "'Aerial Ace'."
Silver saw Marina's jaw drop in shock—the flying move was, after all, known to usually flying-type Pokemon. Nidoking, however, utterly undeterred by the evident flaw in inherited moves of any sort, obediently leapt up into the sky, kicking up a good amount of brown dust as he did so, too. Surprisingly to all but Silver and his Nidoking, the Ground and Poison-typed Pokemon managed to gain a solid four meters between himself and the ground.
Then, rolling into a bulky ball with two forearms, sharp, small claws glowing a brilliant white, the Nidoking wheeled, aerially, through each of the false images of the Misdreavous until he found the real Little Miss and slashed mercilessly at the Ghost's side.
Losing her ability to hover in mid-air due to pain, Little Miss smashed into the grass, eyes shut and giving one final, ominous sort of spasm, the Misdreavous stopped moving. The old Pallet Town man who had been refereeing the match raised his flag towards Silver, and said the predicable words, "And the win goes to Silver Carr of. . . er. . . where were you born again, kid?"
The redhead shot one contemptuous glare at the old man that caused him to shudder, before spitting out in a voice that made it clear he considered the referee to be a waste of his time, "Goldenrod. Wherever, I do not come from Viridian City."
"Oh. . . okay then. . ." The balding referee said uncertainly before finishing his sentence. "And the win goes to Silver Carr of Goldenrod and his Nidoking."
Jimmy darted out from the crowd to plaster his arms around Marina's back, and Silver could finally go back to contentedly watching the pretty brunette, disturbed only at irregular intervals by Marina's choked sobs and the "Bweeeam" sound a Pokemon made when it was returned to its Pokeball.
Sootopolis City Gym, Sootopolis City, Hoenn
"Done yet?" Steven Stone demanded anxiously in a high voice that did not belong to himself. His cyan-haired friend raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"OuiOh, and Lance was really in Johto at the time, so if this crisis really originates in the middle of Kanto I am afraid we will have to rely on the Kanto Elite Four and Kanto Gym Leaders to solve that part of the problem." Wallace answered, snapping his sleek white Pokenav shut after finishing the Match Call to Cynthia. Then, lowering his eyebrows, he asked with concern, "Surely you think we can plow through this crisis? We have before, many times." As if to emphasize this fact, the Champion laid his hand on Steven's right forearm.
The ex-Champion jerked away instinctively at the contact. Ignoring the confused and slightly hurt look that had been revealed after Wallace accidentally dropped his pretentious fatigue—though the cyan-haired man preferred "illusion"—the gray-haired man muttered uncertainly, though thankfully in his usual deep voice, "I. . . really don't know."
"Bof, come on, it can't be that bad, can it?" Wallace chided, slowly reaching his hand out again. This time, Steven did not flinch away at the contact, but instead he tried to melt into Wallace's warm, soft massage as the cyan-haired man's hand traveled up Steven's right arm.
"Probably not as bad as your attempt in putting French into every conversation," Steven said humorously but quietly, since he had no wish to offend Juan, who could easily be eavesdropping on their conversation.
Far from being mad, the serene Champion's crystalline eyes glittered with amusement. "Probably."
This managed to cause Steven to lift the corner of his mouth in a smile for just a second—just as second—before the reality of the situation overcame them, and Steven basked himself, albeit unpleasantly, in different ways to overcome the problem, though none surfaced readily to mind, and the few that he found were a far cry from being the shrewd, meticulous plans Steven's systematic mind could usually find. (2)
Pallet Town, Kanto
Garrison Blue-Green Oak stood, sweating, panting, in his battle against Paul, who dropped his cold demeanor and revealed exhaustion from the battle.
The auburn-haired Researcher's Arcanine crouched on the ground, usually royal-looking striped fur soiled by the battle, which had already lasted for twenty consecutive minutes—a most impressive number as set by both Trainer's records—and had not foreseeable end. Damn it, no wonder Ash wanted to invite this guy, he's freaking strong! Gary thought to himself, clenching and unclenching his fist repeatedly as if trying to reassure himself that he could win this battle. . . he couldn't lose, right? That would be an actual embarrassment, to lose the first round of a simple, make-shift battle tournament. . .
Then again, it had been a while since Gary had used his Pokemon in true battles—his 'practice' one with Ashy-boy didn't really count. Thinking of Ash bought an unexpected fluttering of Butterfree to Gary's stomach, for reasons unknown, and furrowing his eyebrows at his insides' disconcertion, the auburn-haired Researcher shook away all thoughts of the completely adorable—eh, WHAT?!—black-haired Trainer from his mind and refocused his attention on the battle.
It was true that Gary's Arcanine's battle skills had gone a little awry, and his normal lean canine physique had been fattened by days of luxurious eating and little vigorous training. The auburn-haired Researcher knew that it would take something huge to completely remold the fire-typed Pokemon's battling skills and body, though Gary had no idea of how huge that 'something' would be. . . there was no way for him to know, not then.
A large crowd, consisting of all of the people who had finished battling and a whole host of Pallet Town residents, congested around the borders of the battlefield. Their referee was a gray-haired woman. Feeling somewhat self-conscious, Gary allowed himself to look at the various assembled members of the crowd, noticing immediately Brendan-whatshisface's mop of silvery hair, and then that Drew-guy's shiny green hair.
Shaking away the pressure that the sheer number of people who had turned up to watch his and Paul's battle, Gary turned his amber eyes to survey with extreme dislike Paul and his Infernape, both of whom were breathing heavily. The Flame Pokemon surveyed the Legendary Pokemon (3) with contempt; Arcanine returned the favor, snarling viciously and curling his lips dangerously to reveal his row of sharp white teeth and two menacingly sharp dagger-like fangs.
"All right, Arcanine, enough with resting! Let's attack with another 'Flare Blitz'!" The auburn-haired Researcher ordered, when he could no longer stand the suspense. Arcanine growled in consent and allowed flames to erupt out of thin air and blanket himself; then, without further ado, promptly charged towards the Infernape, looking rather like a flaming fireball.
"Retaliate, too, with a 'Flare Blitz', Infernape!" Paul roared, pointing his finger with much vigor at the incoming Arcanine. Infernape nodded curtly, then allowed the flames on his head to cover his entire body, and charged towards Arcanine. The two Pokemon, seemingly of identical speed and attack power, ended up reflecting off each other when they collided.
Instinctively, each Fire-typed Pokemon shed their flames. Arcanine skidded a few feet on the ground before whirling around and lifting his lips into another menacing snarl. Infernape hissed angrily and slashed demonstratively at the air in front of him. Feeling a bead of fine sweat roll off his pointed cheek, Gary hurriedly ordered, "'Extremespeed', Arcanine!"
Grunting, the Legendary Pokemon charged at Infernape, a mere blur. Paul was unable to order a 'dodge' or a retaliatory attack, since the attack had happened so fast, and Infernape was obviously instructed to do only what Paul told him to do, and not react with instinct. As a result, the Flame Pokemon toppled over onto the ground, shrieking a pitiful, "Naaaape!" as his back crashed into the grass.
Gaining dominance in the battle, Arcanine howled triumphantly at the sun—which was a worthy substitute for the moon—and turned one large, almond-shaped brown-red eye at his Trainer, waiting for an order.
The auburn-haired Researcher, feeling victory within grasp, ordered swiftly, "Time to finish it off with a 'Fire Blast'!"
Flames grew inside of Arcanine's mouth, licking the outside air. Without pausing for even a split second, the Arcanine tossed his head trepidatiously and, fully unhinging his jaws, allowed the Fire-typed attack to careen out of his mouth, its path directed by the Arcanine's tongue. (4) Paul, face a twisted mask of horror, ordered, half a second before the 'Fire Blast' technique hit his Infernape, "Your own 'Fire Blast'!"
It was unclear to Gary how the Infernape managed to procure an attack of his own so quickly, especially when the 'Fire Blast' technique was just a hair's breadth away from scorching the Infernape's white-and-brown fur. But the Flame Pokemon managed to blast a fiery tunnel right back at Arcanine, meeting the Legendary Pokemon's 'Fire Blast' attack.
Grumbling with frustration as the Infernape staggered to his feet, still maintaining the Fire Blast technique that was struggling for power with Arcanine's Fire Blast, Gary ordered, "Use all of your power, Arcanine!"
The Legendary Pokemon nodded in consent and narrowed his eyes into thin slits in concentration. A pulse of fiery energy traveled along the Arcanine's 'Fire Blast' technique; when it came to the end of the fire attack, the pulse pushed Infernape's 'Fire Blast' backwards a little. Gary's muscles tensed, wondering if his Arcanine was going to win.
Paul, though, would not stand for it. "Infernape, all of your strength!" The Flame Pokemon responded by tightening its focus, forcing his 'Fire Blast' back to the center. The two fire techniques continued to burn against each other; Gary's mouth was a thin line of anxiety—
At last, Gary's Arcanine Fire Blast attack plowed through, tunneling unforgivingly through Infernape's attack and hit the Flame Pokemon, causing the Infernape to fly backwards and into the crowd. The various spectators scrammed as the fighting-typed Pokemon collided with them.
The fire on top of Infernape's head lessening considerably; the Flame Pokemon's head drooped to one side. Paul's face contorted with rage and shock, and the anger etched into every line on his face only accentuated when the aged referee raised a flag towards Gary and his Arcanine and declared in a final sort of voice, "The match goes to Gary Oak of Pallet Town and his Arcanine."
Sinnoh Pokemon League Island, Sinnoh
Cynthia Brennan uneasily snapped her scratched but still smooth-looking Pokenav shut. Pocketing the device in one of the many pockets inside her black waistcoat, the Champion stared forlornly out of the window, pondering the words of the Hoenn Champion, Wallace.
Death COM Three. This was not good.
Sighing, she brushed a stray lock of silky golden hair away from her green eyes and pushed open her window, scattering a few Starly that had been perched on the windowsill. The Sinnoh Champion smiled wryly as she watched the bird Pokemon take flight, cawing confusedly at each other, wondering why the blond woman had unexpectedly disturbed their peace.
Disturbed. That was exactly how Cynthia felt. Sighing again, she retreated her gaze from staring at the celeste blue, cloud-filled sky and glanced at her Poketch. Two thirty-five. There was still. . . some time before the duties of the Champion would truly grasp her.
Then, deciding that she might as well succumb to her responsibilities, the blond woman dug around in her pockets and pulled out her black Pokenav again, grimacing while reluctantly flipping open the screen and punching in various buttons. A few moments later, the photograph and jerky voice of Roark came on.
"Roark Silversmith here. Cynthia?"
"Yes. Wallace, you know, the Champion of Hoenn, has just informed me of a most imminent crisis that has, possibly and probably, already started."
There was a slight pause. "What do you mean? And, Wallace? If this is a Hoenn-based problem, he should know just as well as the other man that it's his—"
"Look, it's a problem that will affect all four regions," Cynthia put in, cutting off the studious Rock-typed Gym Leader. "Besides, it's Death COM Three already, and if we don't do something fast about it, Sinnoh might just. . . fall apart. We've been severely weakened since the last crisis, anyway, with those silly Galactic people running around the place."
"True, true. Wait, did you say Death COM Three"
"Yes."
"Oh, this is bad. So, er, what are we going to do about it, Cynthia?"
"Come to. . . hmm. . . Solaceon Town. I heard this was where Steven—whom Wallace told me discovered this crisis in the first place—found the prophecy with the help of two pupils. We would be better off examining this 'prophecy' for ourselves. And I'm sure that my grandmother won't mind us lodging in her house for the night."
"Prophecy? What prophecy?" Roark asked over the Pokenav, sounding utterly befuddled.
"Just come." Cynthia replied, somewhat irritably. Then, attempting compensating for sounding rude, the Champion said, "Please?"
"Yes, of course! I will definitely be there!" Roark replied stoutly.
"Great. I knew I could count on you." Cynthia replied graciously, ending the conversation by pressing on a button on the side of her Pokenav. Speaking to herself now, she muttered, "Hm. I just need to call the other seven now."
Pallet Town, Kanto
Lucas Diamond Hikari ground his teeth in annoyance. His Rotom, suspended in mid-air by its psychic abilities, was refusing to obey him in the battle against Misty. In fact, the only thing that the electric-and-ghost typed Pokemon would do that was actually beneficial to the battle was dodge the Water Trainer's Starmie's various water attacks. "Come on, Rotom! Attack with 'Discharge'!"
The Plasma Pokemon, predictably, did not obey Lucas. On the contrary, it let out a squeak of disobedience and flew into the air, now hovering many meters above the ground. Cringing irritably, Lucas considered leaping into the air, intending to give his Pokemon a good scolding, but restrained himself—he had no desire to be shocked by one of his Rotom's electric attacks.
Turning his attention back to the orange-haired Misty and her Starmie, Lucas felt a sense of failure overcome himself. He shouldn't have used Rotom in this battle! Damn the fact that the Plasma Pokemon was the only electric Pokemon on his team. And also damn the fact that Lucas's Cherrim had been knocked out by a wild Pidgeotto they had met on the way to Pallet Town.
The Water Gym Leader smirked satisfactorily. Lucas could not blame her at all for feeling that the win was hers. Even the Starmie, who rarely revealed emotion, was 'Meeee'-ing in celebration, under the rather obvious impression that it was going to defeat the Rotom.
Tugging anguishly at his short, dark-blue hair, Lucas cried desperately, "Please, Rotom! Please attack!" He collapsed onto the grassy ground, fighting back the urge to sob.
The Plasma Pokemon responded by chirping smugly and not attacking at all. Misty, taking advantage of the temporary distraction that was Lucas's hair-tugging, ordered, "All right, Starmie! Use 'Water Gun!'"
Lucas could almost hear the referee, who was a middle-aged straw-haired man, announce his loss in slow, formal words. The Starmie nodded in consent, the ruby embedded in the center of its body glistening with anticipation, and leapt into the air, wheeling around and at last firing a huge tunnel of icy-white water at Rotom, who was chirping too self-contentedly to notice that attack.
Covering his face with his hands, unable to watch the battle any longer, the azure-haired Trainer heard his Pokemon fall into the muddy ground—residue of a previously dodged Water Gun attack—with a dull 'thunk'. Parting his forefinger and middle finger, Lucas saw his Rotom, small, circular red body smothered in dirt and the ghostly electric sparks that usually flared wildly from its body weakened immensely, twitching prone on the ground. Occasionally, some sparks of neon-blue energy would fly from the Pokemon's body, the only signifier that it had not been knocked out completely.
"No!" Lucas cried, tearing his white and blue artists' hat off in sheer terror as his violet eyes widened in horror at the sight of his Pokemon's barely moving body. It then occurred to the azure-haired Trainer how fragile the Rotom really was, despite possessing some powerful electricity and ghost-typed attacks Lucas had witnessed Rotom use on some rare occasions, and how easy it could be to kill it. But, then again, Lucas had never heard of a Pokemon dying in a battle. . . though, for some reason, he felt that the possibility was opening up for some odd reason.
Now, Lucas had never considered himself a psychic of any sort, though he occasionally felt twinges of nausea in his stomach that had completely nothing to do with what he had eaten for lunch. (5) On all of these occasions, something bad would entail. For example, once he was lying in his sleeping bag, unable to sleep for some reason and feeling consecutive twinges of nausea bombard his insides, and half an hour later his Clefairy had crawled back to their camp, poisoned by a Pokemon attack of some sort and very close to being knocked out.
Thankfully Lucas had managed to find a Pokemon Center in due time, else his Clefairy surely would have been knocked out. Turning his attention back to his Rotom, who still lay pitifully on the ground, Lucas dared himself to avert his gaze to Misty and her Starmie. The girl was wearing an uncharacteristically smug grin on her face, and the Starmie, though face-less, emanated an air of equal smugness.
"Step out of the way, Lucas!" The redhead cried, flinging her unclothed right arm into the air. Starmie let out an eerie sort of 'Meeee', emphasizing its Trainer's words. Lucas, however, refused to budge; in fact, he hovered protectively over his Rotom, refusing to move. Something really bad would happen if he did, though his own mortality was at stake if he didn't move—Misty's purpling face was not a good sign, anyway.
"Fine!" The Gym Leader snapped irritably. "I'll make you move! Starmie, finish off the Rotom with a final 'Hydro Pump'!"
Squeezing his eyes shut and thinking Please, Uxie, don't make this hurt, the azure-haired boy braced himself for the powerful water attack that was sure to come. Five seconds passed. . . then ten seconds. . . then half a minute. Frowning to himself but still not daring to peek, Lucas wondered what was wrong with the Starmie. He could hear the small crowd that had lined up on the sidelines of the battle field mutter amongst themselves, anyway, though Lucas could not hear the exact contents of their conversation.
Finally daring himself (again) to open his eyes, Lucas noticed that, miraculously, a hazy, semi-transparent green barrier a foot in front of himself and his Rotom was effortlessly absorbing the Hydro Pump attack for them. He also noticed that Misty's jaw had dropped so low it was rather comical. Dubiously, the azure-haired Trainer looked behind himself, to notice that Rotom had lifted itself into the air, wearing an expression of tight concentration on its child-like face.
"Rotom. . .?" Lucas whispered to himself, disbelief clouding his mind. It. . . It's protecting me? But. . . why?
"Tohhhhm!" Rotom squealed, increasing the thickness of the 'Protect'. Starmie, unable to maintain the 'Hydro Pump' anymore, stumbled backwards as it stopped firing water at Lucas and Rotom.
"What. . . How. . . ?" Misty demanded, her eyes widening so that they resembled dinner plates. "But. . . !"
"Rotom. . . thank you," Was all Lucas had to say. The Plasma Pokemon gave a happy sort of squeak before slackening its concentration, thus ending the 'Protect' attack. "Now. . . Will you please use a 'Discharge' attack?" The azure-haired Trainer asked in his most polite voice.
"Rooooeh!" Rotom squealed in reply. Blue electricity flared from its small, round, red body, attacking with unerring accuracy the Starmie. Misty did not even have time to bark a dodge; her jaw was still hanging, her face the definition of perplexity and shock.
Starmie flew backwards—into the air—and landed loudly on the ground. Giving a final sort of, "Staaaarrrr," the Psychic-typed Pokemon fell still.
The yellow-haired referee raised the flag towards Lucas's direction, and before the words even tumbled out of the middle-aged man's mouth, the azure-haired teenager felt his heart throb with such pride and happiness it was deliriously easy to say which he was happier for, his victory or him finally befriending Rotom. "The match goes to Lucas Hikari of Twinleaf and his Rotom. . ."
Pokemon League, Johto
Although it had been ten minutes since Lance Dragonclaw had heard the forbidding message spill over his red Pokenav in the form of Wallace's silky, irritably serene words, he still had not informed the Elite Four members of the problem. This could only be attributed to Lance's reluctance to face danger—though he was a competent Champion, his title had been thwarted too many times over the past months for him to feel confident of plowing through yet another crisis.
Running a gloved hand through his spiky, long red hair, the Dragon Tamer stretched and readjusted his scarlet cape, tightening it so that it was no longer threatening to loosen and tumble to his boot-wearing feet. Lance rubbed fatigue out of his tapered eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the immense pressure that had once again been thrust upon him. He decided that he should try to watch some television before informing the other Elite Four members.
Lance found the slim crimson remote lying on one of the steps that led to the Blue Room. He picked it up and, directing it pointedly at the ceiling, hit a series of buttons.
A sleek plasma television flipped out of the ceiling. The red-haired Champion turned a vaguely interested eye to eyeball the screen. He flipped around, hoping to find a decent television show on, but everything, apparently, had been interrupted for an 'important news report'.
Frowning, he decided to simply see for himself what this 'important news' was. A brown-blue haired woman, dressed in a professional black suit, was clutching a microphone in her right hand and practically screaming into it—owing to the fact that it was thunder-storming overhead—Lance could barely make out her words, "This is Gabby, your favorite reporter! T.Y. and I are here to report a most peculiar incident occurring in none other than Viridian City!
"Only a few days previously, eye witnesses claimed to have seen a large green Oriental-styled dragon spiral out of Viridian's Rocket Game Corner! Some even have claimed to have seen a humanoid figure riding atop the dragon, while others claimed to have seen another human figure, though this one purple for some obscure reason, floating next to the green dragon!
"Sadly, however, there's no live footage of this remarkable incident! And, here's something, perhaps, even more peculiar than the green dragon bursting out of the ceiling—evidently, a very strong psychic pulse had traveled from the center of town, none other than the Game Corner, and had destroyed all, I repeat, all of the city's electrical equipment!
"And that concludes our—"
The news report abruptly ended, and Lance found himself staring at a yoga class instead. This is not good, the Champion thought to himself, left orange eye narrowing. Time to call Agatha and the rest.
Pallet Town, Kanto
Ashton Red Ketchum tapped his foot impatiently on the grassy ground, waiting for his opponent Dawn to show up. It was roughly three o'clock, and he had been waiting the better part of two hours for the blue-haired girl to show up. Most of the other competitors had been done with the first round. The black-haired Trainer spared an oblique glance towards the scoreboard to notice that all but Dawn and him were through with the preliminaries.
Gary was still talking the hat-wearing brown-haired girl, who laughed far too many times during their conversation for Ash to extinguish the butterflies in his stomach. The auburn-haired Researcher, Ash noted hopefully, didn't seem too happy about his conversation with the brunette; Ash hoped sincerely that Gary disliked Turquoise (was it?) as much as he did.
Why'm I staring at him, anyway? Ash scowled inwardly, though his obsidian eyes never left Gary's back. He noticed with admiration that when the auburn-haired Trainer would shift his weight from one leg to another that his shoulders, albeit not exactly slim, moved with a fluid ease Ash venerated. He began wondering if his own shoulders moved as easily.
And since when did Gary get so darn tall? Not to mention attractive. Emphasis on the attractive. Perhaps being a Researcher gave one good looks? No, in that case Professor Oak should look like a model, which he didn't. Ash blushed as he thought of his own highly unattractive physique—he was ridiculously skinny and had very little muscles on top of that—and wondered if Gary thought he was ugly.
Oh god, maybe why he's not talking to me is because I'm fat, Ash thought with horror, clutching his thin cheeks.
As if on cue, the blue-haired girl rushed out of his house, closing the door behind her with a loud 'bang' that startled Ash out of his worrying whether or not he was actually fat but didn't realize it. The black-haired Trainer turned one dark eye to impatiently watch as Dawn bounded towards him, having changed from her green gown back to her usual clothes.
What takes girls so long? Ash wondered to himself as Dawn breathed to him, "Sorry Ash, I was just changing and reapplying my makeup."
"For two hours?" Ash was unable to stop from blurting out.
"Mm, sorry," Dawn replied with a faint blush on her face, stealing a sidelong glance at the Tyson boy, who was talking in a dejected sort of way with Kenny, who was patting him sympathetically on the back. Concern knitted itself into her thin face. "So, I guess we should have the battle now?"
"Yeah," Ash said grudgingly, resisting the impulse to see if Gary had stopped talking to Turquoise and reaching for a random Pokeball on his belt. He selected one at chance and flung it into the air with inexplicable angry vigor. It flew up for a solid three yards before the red hood of the Pokeball, releasing a jet of equally red light that formed the figure of a simian Pokemon.
Ash's Aipom bounced up and down on his pawed tail while Dawn sent out her Floatzel. The Sea Weasel Pokemon lashed his two white-yellow tipped tails and waited for the Long Tail Pokemon to make the first move.
The referee, who jerked awake when she realized that the match was actually beginning, pushed herself to her feet and, brushing scarlet hair into a gelled arc, declared in a somewhat forcibly deep voice, "Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town versus Dawn Hikari from Twinleaf Town! Match begin!"
"Okay, Aipom! Let's start things off with a 'Swift'!" Ash ordered, feeling the rush of adrenaline only a good battle could bring coursing through his veins. Aipom agreed with a squeal and promptly leapt into the air, swinging his long purple tail in front of himself and causing myriad amounts of golden star-shaped objects to pop out of thin air and firing them at the Floatzel.
"Dodge with a fast 'Aqua Jet'!" Dawn cried, just in time as the Sea Weasel Pokemon evaded the 'Swift' attack by speeding forwards through the air propelled by mouth-originated cold water that covered his entire body, headed straight towards Aipom.
"Aipom! Counter with 'Focus Punch'!" Ash ordered, pointing his finger at Dawn's Floatzel. The Long Tail Pokemon shut his large eyes to summon the energy it required to fire the attack, but the Floatzel hit Aipom in stomach right before Aipom had gathered the required amount of energy.
"Good one, Floatzel!" The blue-haired girl cheered, tugging excitably at the two thick strands of azure hair protruding from under her sock-like hat. The Sea Weasel Pokemon trotted back to his Coordinator's side, flicking his two tails lazily from side to side as if to say 'but of course'. Ash gnawed his teeth in frustration—Dawn's Floatzel was just as good as his Aipom when it came to matters of speed, and had just the upper hand in attack power.
"Aipom! You okay?" Ash asked as the purple Pokemon dizzily straightened himself. After another few seconds, the Aipom regained his focus and nodded to Ash. "Good! That's just one hit, right? Anyway, Aipom, use another 'Focus Punch' on Floatzel!"
Readily complying, the Aipom bounded forwards, focusing his energy a lot faster this time. The Floatzel flattened himself closer to the ground, preparing himself to make a faster getaway should Dawn give the order to. "Um. . . um. . . attack with 'Aqua Jet', quick!" Dawn ordered hesitantly. The Floatzel, in a split second of distrust of his Coordinator's little self-esteem, turned his elongated rodent-like head to face her in uncertainty. That second was all it required for Aipom to happily slam a glowing tail-paw into the Floatzel's back.
The Sea Weasel Pokemon flipped through the air, writhing his sleek body in pain, before landing on the ground twitching feebly. An ugly red, hand-shaped blotch quickly appeared on the Floatzel's orange fur, and the Water-typed Pokemon's sunny yellow floatation sacks seemed to shrink as the Floatzel continued to be harmed by the powerful 'Focus Punch' attack.
"Floatzel! Are you okay?" Dawn asked shrilly, her already high voice escalating even further. She collapsed onto her bare knees to tenderly touch the tip of the furred dorsal fin on the Sea Weasel's head, but he only twitched in more agony.
"We're going to win this one, Aipom!" Ash cried happily, jumping up and down in fervent joy. "A final 'Swift'!"
Stars once again burst out of thin air and slashed towards the Floatzel, but the Sea Weasel Pokemon had been coated by a layer of red light and was returned into his Pokeball. Dawn, wearing an uncharacteristically dark and shameful expression, sighed and pushed the Pokeball into her yellow cylinder-shaped bag.
"And the win goes to Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town and his wonderful, awesome, delightful Pikachu! Er, I mean Aipom!" The female referee declared, raising a pink—wait, pink? What does she think I am, a girl?—flag towards Ash's direction.
Ash's Aipom gave a series of happy hoots and bounced onto Ash's vacant left shoulder—the other one was occupied with a 'chaa'-ing Pikachu, who continuously nuzzled his cheek into the side of his Trainer's as if to congratulate Ash for winning. Though Ash felt the familiar hot rush of triumph overcome him, he couldn't help but feel bad for Dawn, who was now walking with a dejectedness rival to that of her blond friend's towards her group of chums.
"Pikachu, do you think I should've let Dawn win?" Ash asked his electrical mouse Pokemon. His scratchy voice was laced with uncertainty, and he felt a feminine qualm—not dissimilar to the many others he had felt over the years—hit him.
"Kaa," Pikachu chided warmly, wrapping his tail around Ash's hat as if to say, no, what you did was only right. Or at least Ash hoped that was what the Pokemon had said. . . then again, he wasn't exactly thinking clearly, owing to the fact that he was pelting blindly towards Gary.
"Gary! I won! I won!" The black-haired Trainer shouted gleefully, jumping up and down on the spot and nearly causing Pikachu and Aipom to fall off his shoulders.
Said researcher readily exited conversation with Turquoise, who was wearing a practically murderous expression. Ash felt his feeling elate. "Won against who?" Gary inquired in his usual nasal voice, looking down at Ash. Wow. . . he's even taller up close. . .
"Against Dawn! Over there!" Ash replied, jabbing a bare finger with unnecessary excitability towards his blue-haired friend's direction. Dawn was sobbing uncontrollably into her blond friend's shoulder, who had stopped lamenting to Kenny and was now matronly patting Dawn on the back.
The black-haired Trainer turned his pair of melanic eyes towards Gary in the hopes of receiving praise of any kind from his old rival. Unfortunately, all the auburn-haired Researcher did was smirk and continue to ask, "How old is she, anyway, Ash? And how long has she been a Trainer?"
"Umm," Ash faltered, thinking. Upon reflection he realized he had never inquired as to the ages of neither May or Dawn, or even Misty. Oddly enough he knew how old Gary was to the minute. "I think, um, she's around thirteen or something, and when we first met, she was ten, and hadn't had any real experience with Pokemon"
"So thirteen minus ten is. . ." Gary prodded expectantly. Cogs in Ash's mind began to turn, though it was a full twenty seconds before he finally answered.
"Four! It's four!" Ash exclaimed, happy that he could answer. However, he instantly realized that he had made a mistake when both Pikachu and Aipom shot him confused looks.
"No, idiot, it's three," Gary corrected, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Dawn has been a Trainer for three years."
"Ohh. . ." Ash said after a moment; the answer had finally dawned upon him. (6)
"So, you beat a thirteen-year-old. That's not much to boast about. You are three years older, after all," Gary said, elaborately offending Ash. Instead of feeling angry, however, Ash merely lowered his head humbly. "I, on the other hand, defeated your silly rival Paul, who is off sulking somewhere, and who you haven't managed to triumph over yet."
"You beat Paul?" Ash asked incredulously. Next to Gary, Paul had been one of the toughest Trainers Ash knew personally; though Ash did wonder if a myriad of insults more often than not utilizing the word 'pathetic' in some form or another (for example, 'pathetic loser', 'pathetic idiot', or Paul's favorite, simply 'pathetic') thrown at him counted as being acquainted. He began wondering why he had invited Paul in the first place, though recalled very vaguely that it was Dawn who suggested the notion.
"Yes, I did," Gary bragged, puffing up his chest.
"Oh, wow," Ash muttered again, slowly beginning to believe it. Never thought Paul would be defeated. Then again, if anyone could do it, it's Gary.
The black-haired Trainer wanted to ask Gary some more things, like exactly how he managed to beat Paul, and how it felt to beat who Ash informally nicknamed 'The Iron Trainer' (oddly enough met with giggles from Dawn), when his mother's high voice wafted over from his far right, "All right! Time for a short break before we start the Contest battles! Refreshers over here!"
Immediately forgetting all questions he was about to ask Gary, Ash zoomed towards the direction of his mother's voice, though not without glancing obliquely at Gary and hoping that he wouldn't talk with Turquoise anymore. Redirecting his thoughts upon the food, Ash's obsidian eyes widened with happiness as they registered the presence of fruit punch.
He had consecutively downed three cups of the punch before his mother apprehended him and pointed towards the other arriving people by way of explanation. Ash noticed that besides from the people he had called to gather for the reunion, a bunch of Pallet Town residents had mixed in with the crowd; he didn't mind all that much, but began to feel rather possessive of his food. Heck, he had sacrificed a good bowl of mashed potatoes to Drew and that Brendan fellow.
"Mmm," Ash grunted to express his discontent, though he continued looking through the congregating crowd, searching for Gary. When he did not find Gary's mass of auburn spikes among the other hair colors, he began looking for Paul, and didn't find him as well. Shrugging, Ash continued to drink his punch before, after finishing half a dozen large jugs of the drink, proceeding to the sandwiches. This could take a while.
Viridian City Gym, Viridian City, Kanto
"Sir, we are, uh, we are finished with the, uh, the preparations," An unimportant researcher stuttered, tentatively approaching the black-clad Team Rocket leader.
"So we are," Giovanni said, struggling to hide the excitement in his voice. He glanced at his watch, which read '5:34'. He then turned to look at the assembled researchers, Grunts, Officers—which were a relatively newly created rank consisting of the more competent and skilled Grunts, and of course, the Admins. All were respectfully bowing down towards Giovanni. The researcher who had informed the Leader hurriedly rushed to immerse himself with the others.
Giovanni lazily gathered the four controllers and attached them to his dark belt, making sure to clip them tightly. He then touched a button on Mewtwo's controller. The serene amethyst bubble the Clone Pokemon had been floating in immediately burst, and Mewtwo's feline purple eyes widened, glowing a blank red.
Moltres and Zapdos fluttered down from where they had previously been perched, and began circling overhead Giovanni, chirping monotonously. Rayquaza awoke from his temporary nap and, without even yawning, immediately flew into mid air and waited for Giovanni to issue an order.
"Let's go."
Author's Notes:
(1) Marina's Misdreavous is really actually nicknamed Little Miss.
(2) Yay for the Originshippy ness! Eh. Just ignore if you don't like.
(3)Not to be confused with an actual 'Legendary' Pokemon (e.g. Rayquaza, Deoxys, Mew. . .). This is actually what Arcanine is referred to as in the Pokedex (eg. How Swampert is the 'Mud Fish Pokemon'. . .)
(4) I got the FireBlast-directed-by-tongue idea from the book 'Eldest', actually, so no, the genius of this idea cannot be claimed by me.
(5) Lucas? Psychic? Just wait and see.
(6) No pun intended!
FINALLY DONE!! Efufu, that took quite a while.
As another side-note, all of Brendan's Pokemon were nicknamed after Ruby (or Brendan) from the Pokemon Special Manga's Pokemon nicknames. Just so you knew. (With the exception of Dradra.)
I've also changed the plot around a little, so it's much darker and more serious than before. Heheh. –scribbles madly on sheet of paper entitled 'Plot Outline' –
Oh, and in case you haven't noticed, I didn't use a single page divider. It's just me, but I really don't like those things. . . Consequentially, I simply inserted scene changes, which elongated the story. But hey, it's an epic for a reason! (Well, without those annoying chronological jumps.)
I got lazy with some of the battles. . . efufufu. . . big deal. xD This chapter turned out way longer than I expected in any case. Though I dun really like it.
Again, let's give Daydreamer Gal another round of applause! –claps–
Anyway. . . Review, please!