Chapter 51: Lights, camera and war
Moonlight spilled into a darkened room and illuminated the surroundings with a ghostly glow. A boy, unable to sleep, tossed and turned and eventually got up and stared at the floor. Tomorrow, everything would end, he mused. His modest bed creaked as it let up his weight and he ambled over to a desk and stared. Six pokeballs were arranged neatly on the desk and he peered into them, his crimson, permanently choleric irises softening. The miniscule creatures shifted in the ball, some surrendering themselves to the sweet lull of sleep whilst others, like him, throbbed with energy. Emboar looked up and pinned its master with a sombre gaze. The boar-esque creature fed off its master's anger, hell hot flames charring their opponent to dust. Smiling, he tapped the clear dome of the ball a few times and the bulky beast tucked its tusked head and resolved to sleep. Or at least it pretended to. The boy looked around his room cloaked in shadows and sighed; he put his head down on the desk and stayed in that position for a few hours. Argent light trickled over his half-clad form and with a start he roused up again and looked around in alarm. Nothing. Still. No breeze or a whisper of wind entered this room, there were no dark monsters lurking under his bed, nor any criminals jumping at him. He checked his pokeballs again, the insides cradled silver light and all of his partners were fast asleep, hopefully, he thought, dreaming about things far more pleasant than his nightmares.
"I'm sorry son...we are unable to find them."
"What do you MEAN?!" He exploded in their faces, so typical of him, with his temples beating visibly, "it's a kidnapping! Search for them, put up posters...FIND THEM!" He screeched in the police station and glared at any one who tried to soothe his rage."
"Boy, you should be at school." An older man, unfazed by his outburst firmly intoned, "We have a tab on you as well and I should warn you that your petty crimes are mounting up. Go back to school; it's been almost two years since your friends disappeared, we are trying our best."
"Your best is not enough..." he hissed, crushed the can of lukewarm soda one of the officers gave him and kicked the can into the opposite wall. Bright orange fluid burst out and splashed against the wall, running a sticky rivulet down important papers and wanted posters.
Thinking back, his actions left much to be desired. He stopped going to school, stopped doing anything productive and took month long trips away from his home supported only by his pokemon and a backpack containing money, clothes and other essentials. If he ran out of cash, he pickpocketed. Once he tried to hold down a job, alas the manager fired him on the second day because he couldn't reign in his temper. He lost sight of his goals. A Pokedex holder? He crept into the teacher's staffroom one afternoon, stole the device and proceeded to smash it on the floor. A sense of sick satisfaction overcame him as he tore the wires holding the sophisticated gadget in place. Grabbing a bottle of water, he dumped the fluid over the dismantled electronic encyclopaedia and watched it fizz and spark.
"They were kidnapped honey." He remembered coming home from school one day and being told the devastating news by his mother. Thick-headed, that's what they called him; they made fun of his studious nature and his goals. The bag on his shoulder slid down and fell to the floor with a thump. It seemed surreal, everything appeared plastic and artificial. Smiling and shaking his head, he assured his mother that they will be found again. So he went to school and studied obediently. School and study and the days trickled by without a sign of his friends. He snapped, he exploded, his existence ruptured. He set out to the roads accompanied by a poster and trying his best to find them. In the process he ran into some shady and strange people. Like the weird man at the subway...Was it two...three years ago? The stranger helped him recover his pokemon. From there, he took even more time off home, doing everything to stay alive on the streets. Pickpocketing became his income and it did not shame him to admit that he was rather good at it.
This way of life continued till he had the unfortunate luck of sticking his gloved fingers in the back pocket of a well-dressed man by the name of Grimsley. A professional gambler and a member of the Elite four. He tried to run with the diamond studded something cradled in his hands, alas a feline beast pinned him to the ground and held him there.
"Well, well, well...Son you must be rather brave to stick your fingers in my pocket." The man drawled, his voice devoid of any reproach, rather, he seemed amused by the scenario. "Child, I'm not really sure what happened to force you to resort to such...Unpleasant actions but let me introduce myself."
"Grimsley...Elite four and Casino game master..." the boy spat, "I know you." The man clapped.
"Then it makes things much easier. How about a pokemon battle? If you win, I'll let you have my watch and other ornaments I'm wearing." The child sprang up, wiped the tangy blood traces off his lips and inwardly swore to rip the man apart. A mere half an hour later, he gaped at the sight of his brutally beaten, bloodied beasts groaning and writhing on the dusty floor. Grimsley, his face smug, fixed the watch back on to his wrist nonchalantly. "Boy...You have the makings of a fantastic pokemon trainer, alas you neglected to train both yourself and your pokemon partners and this is the result." A heavily decorated hand pointed to the ground, "your strategies were sound but your pokemon are too weak and distrustful of you. Let's make another bet. You go through the gyms and take part in the Champions league taking place next year. Meet me, beat me and I'll promise you will be a changed man. Tell me your name...Your passion is remarkable." The spiky haired boy merely stared, his gaze apathetic, he recalled his pokemon, clipped the capsules back into the magnetic belt rimming his waist and turned around.
"Your name child." Grimsley called again and the boy halted in his tracks.
"Hugh...and I'm searching for my friends..." He held up grimy photographs of two pre-teens much like him "Have you seen these two?"
Have you seen these two?
Evening
Unova
Pokemon League
Tomorrow finally came
Day one of the Unova championships league.
Like many other trainers, Hugh waited his turn and entered through the electronic gates, flashing his badges as he did so. The last leg of victory road...Or mountainous terrain more like, was punctuated by large black gates manned by guards wearing black armour and visors and their respective pokemon partners. Each trainer was subjected to a harrowing search before passing through the first gate. After that, one simply had to show their badges, the rangers would solemnly nod their approval and they were in. The glamorous stadium loomed up, emerald green domes and tan buildings sparkled tall and proud against a rapidly blackening sky. Lights set the horizon ablaze, dancing to and fro and illuminating the rocky plateau which the league sat on. The purple haired individual stopped and stared. A breath lodged itself halfway between his chest and throat. Every two years he watched the championships battle take place, the television did well to display the awe, pomp and overflowing energy, however they couldn't capture the experience of simply being here. His heart beat out an erratic rhythm and he forced himself to simmer down. As the first row of contestants entered through the grand, stone dragon flanked entrance, a shower of glitter rained down from the sky. Overhead, camera men hung dangerously out of media helicopters and desperately zoomed in to take profiles of promising trainers. Hugh looked in one and a vein in his temple throbbed. One of the several floating screens on the grounds lit up, showing his angry visage and the people surrounding him stared and pointed.
He stepped into the building and a blast of cool, conditioned air evaporated the sheen of sweat clinging to the back of his neck. Here, more cameras and screens greeted him along with a young lady showing him a friendly smile. She gestured to the side and asked him to wait in line. Several queues of varying lengths snaked out before him and he tried to gauge the shortest line. Sneakers squeaking over marble white tiles, he joined one of the queues and fished his trainer identification card out as well as his badge carrying case. Surprisingly, the receptionists were well trained in dealing with crowds and before long, he found himself standing before a friendly man sitting behind a glass partition. Behind the man, Hugh saw several potted plants, a strip of blue-grey carpet, chairs and screens, it seemed like each of the booths had those things behind them. Answering a few questions, the assistant handed over a questionnaire and checked his identification, pokemon and badges. Five minutes later, Hugh was discharged from the line and he strode into the bathrooms to check his appearance. As usual, his shock of spiky hair refused to lie down, an oversized black and red high collared jacket covered his chin. Lacing up black and red trainers, he pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves and proceeded to walk into the arena.
Powerful, multi coloured lights burned his retinas and a megaphone amplified voice pulsed loudly in his ears. Hugh blinked several times, trying to fight of the feeling of vertigo. From the entrance, a metal catwalk ran to the middle of the room and branched off to the numerous square arenas dotting the huge chamber. Off to the side, he spied a set of steps leading downwards into what looked like a lounge. A uniformed official beckoned him and Hugh followed into a semi-dark space. The official began talking rapidly as another trainer made a discrete entrance.
"Your identification and receipt please." Hugh handed those over and the man stamped them. "Thanks, your battle will take place shortly. Your arena number is fifteen and when they call out your name, you go. For now, take a seat, there is a vending machine at the back if you want drinks." The guard jerked his head to one set in the gloomy depths and the boy wondered where to sit, the lounge was cramped full of trainers already, some bursting with confidence, shown by the slight upturned smirk of their lips and puffed out chests. Others were nervous, pale expressions and wide eyes darting about endlessly. And there were the ones who radiated quiet assurance, those who did not need to be reassured nor coddled. They stood or leaned against the confined walls, with visors, hats or bandannas pulled low over their eyes. These trainers would the ones holding the top positions...One of them might even be the next champion.
Clipping a small backpack around his waist, Hugh retreated deeper into the room and unceremoniously plopped himself at the foot of a teenage girl. She looked at him inquisitively before imparting a smile. He didn't smile back; he preferred to stare at the carpet instead.
Forty five minutes later, Hugh found it difficult to breath in the so called trainers lounge, they were packed like bugs in a net and he tried to move out of the way as another child stomped on his foot. Hissing irritably, he went rigid, they all did, when a loud cacophony erupted around them and the sound of stampeding people reached his ears. Some pasty faced lad whispered that the spectators were being allowed in. Animals? Hugh pondered, it certainly sounded so. The master of ceremonies, a gaudy man with outrageous clothes, held a megaphone to his mouth and floated above the arenas on a hovering silver podium. Behind him, two cheerleading females, accompanied by fancily clad roserade and loppuny, danced to the music pounding out of giant speakers. Almost at once, a loud hush descended on the stadium as the MC laid down rules for the upcoming knockout round.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" A suave voice bled through the speakers, "Welcome to the Biennial Unova Champions League!" A roar of cheers and applause shot up and died down, "As you know, today is Day one of the champion's league and that means...It is the first knockout round! Here, a total of hundred and fifty trainers will be competing against each other in twenty five arenas. These battles will take place simultaneously and you can catch the progress of your favourite trainer on the screens suspended above the tiny coliseums. There are three sets of battles and each trainer is required to use three pokemon, we will begin the first set shortly. Please remember that there will only be twenty five winners in each set and a break of one hour is required between one set and the other. Once all seventy five winners are announced, we will continue the knockout battle on Day two, like this, the battles will proceeded till the last four are selected and then, it's the show we are all waiting for. The glorious war against the Elite four and FINALLY! The champion. Our Dragon queen: IRIS!" The audience went wild and Hugh, like most of the novice trainers sitting squashed against him, craned his neck to see a glimpse of Iris on the large monitors. A close up of her smiling face showed up on the screens and he peered at it intently. Young...So young, the girl couldn't have been more than fifteen years old and already she had been champion for over four years. Four years ago Hugh enrolled in Aspertia Pokemon Academy and walked into a class full of children like him whilst Iris had taken up the champion's mantle; they were the same age so why did their lives end up so different from each other? He wondered as his eyes trailed down her photo, taking note of her flawless chocolate brown skin and her haunting, yet beautiful eyes framed by thick violet lashes. She had the appearance of a girl who had seen too much, struggled too much but refused to bow down to the demanding world.
Hugh settled back down. Perhaps being surrounded by people his own age was a far better experience; at least he got to make some memorable friends. Lack-2, an over confident brat who thought the world spun around him and Whi-2, his childhood friend whom he had a not so obvious crush on. He frowned, at least he hoped so.
The rest of the time passed like a blur, trainers' names were called and they left the lounge one by one. At one point the MC blared his name and he pulled back to reality. Getting up, he dusted himself and walked back up the metal catwalk. Things had gotten much fancier, a series of lights flashed in hypnotizing colours along the catwalk and guided him to his destination. He trudged across, stiff and determined as blue feathered duckletts, with cameras fixed to a collar, followed his every move. The floating man still spoke, but the words phased through him like smoke. The large walkway, suspended few good meters above the ground, branched and he traipsed down one of the forks, going deeper into the heart of the room. People stamped on the ground, cheered and screamed and he looked past their heads and saw his arena. A moderately sized lattice of gold metal shaped into a boxing ring. Entering, he nodded politely to the referee, who gestured him to one side and waited for an opponent. A last minute check told him that his partners were primed and ready to battle and to his great irritation, there were cameras swivelling and following his every move. Tired of being angry at everything, he raised his face and smiled in one.
The crowd went wild and put up an embarrassing chant of his name.
Minutes later, another teenager strolled in casually and threw him a sunny grin. A peek at his belt told Hugh that his opponent, despite his laid back looks, was not one to be underestimated. The blonde revelled in the thunderous whoops and jubilation, raising his arms and making a show. He blew air kisses and the people surrounding Arena number fifteen frothed at the mouth with glee. Hugh's temples throbbed again and he massaged the area around his head. They waited for another half an hour before the last trainer entered arena twenty five. The roar and din simmered down before vanishing all together. A moment of deafening silence, it astonished Hugh how the screeching people could be this quiet. The battlers took up positions and everyone held their breath, the air grew heavy and tense, akin to a pent up charge.
Ding
Silence ruptured at the seams, a figurative wave of words, jubilant screams, clipped commands and low mutterings all melding together and winded outwards, pushing at the doors and triple glazed windows, demanding to be let out of the gargantuan room. In the gilded golden cage, Hugh jumped back and released his first pokemon; simipour tumbled out elegantly and announced its presence with a cute growl. His opponent, the smug kid, sent out leavanny and the skinny insectoid twirled elegantly in its spot. The blonde moved first, pearl white teeth gleaming in an anticipation of an easy victory. Leaf blade, leavanny held its arms up as the two green projections gleamed eerily in the blinding light, it sped towards simipour, little feet tapping furiously against the floor, raising one arm high up, and it slashed down and met with empty air. The blue monkey grinned, waved and bounced around the cage, swooping through the air in a series of acrobatic dances. For extra flair, it trailed a mist of water from its tail. The grass type switched tactics and assailed it with a barrage of brilliant green spheres as commanded, it quickly side stepped to avoid an avalanche of small rocks. Hugh's eyes shifted calculatingly as he eyed the floor and placement of rocks. The ground was a sticky mess of the nurturing pokemon's silk, leaves, water and soil seeping from the rocks. Nimbly, simipour clambered down and patiently waited. Hugh's opponent barked another order but when his partner tried to carry it out, leavanny slipped and fell.
"Focus blast..."
An orb of energy slammed right into leavanny's tiny thorax and a crunch announced the splintering and shattering of exoskeleton and bone. The insect twitched wildly before being declared unfit for battle. Now Hugh's mouth curled in satisfaction when he saw the gleam of revenge decorating the blonde's eyes. The flamboyant teenager decided to take this seriously.
"You used the muddy floor and Vann's own silk as a trap. Leavanny have a tendency to discharge minute amount of silk and they leave it on anything they come in contact with. I never imagined a grass type would be upended with a water type."
"Type advantages...Even though they play a major part in the outcome of a battle, they do not determine the victor. True...If any of your moves struck my Simipour, I'd be the loser in this equation...Simipour return. Flygon, go!"
A serperior and flygon sized up each other. The grass snake lacked the poise associated with its kind; instead, it came out of the capsule hissing and dripping spite. Fixing crimson irises at the sand dragon, it feinted a few attacks before striking out blindingly fast. Hugh drew in a shaky breath as his flygon cried out piteously and flew around in a desperate attempt to free itself from suffocating coils of muscle. The writhing band slowly inched across his ground type and when the beast plummeted downwards, serperior merely emitted a pained noise and clamped down hidden fangs on one wing. The rhombus shaped appendages began to turn an ominous purple and to his horror, the trainer saw how the thin screen of flesh smoked and eroded. Fumbling out his pokeball he recalled the semi-comatose dragon and sent his trump card out. Emboar didn't need an introductory announcement, the moment the fire boar materialized, a heat haze swept across the ring. Serperior coiled itself and reduced the damage taken.
"This is your last pokemon...I still have two able ones. Do you want to forfeit?" The blonde asked.
Forfeit?
"Boy...You have the makings of a fantastic pokemon trainer. You go through the gyms and take part in the Champions league taking place next year. Meet me, beat me and I'll promise you will be a changed man. Tell me your name...Your passion is remarkable." Grimsley's words rung through his head and on Hugh's face, a few visible veins pulsed. He took a deep breath. Forfeit? Out of the question, he still had date with an Elite four member.
"No thanks. I came a long way and giving up is not an option. Boar here will char everything into oblivion. Prepare yourself, I'm about to unleash my rage!" Too late his opponent found out that the words functioned as a trigger command. Serperior contorted and blistered as a ring of flames devoured it. The projections around its head and neck crumbled to dust as it lay on the ground with a pitiful hiss.
"You are admirable Hugh...I suppose then I'll go all out. Seismitoad...Time to shine!"
If there was a pokemon Hugh detested, it had to be the ugly sack of azure bulging pouches wriggling before him. The vibration pokemon could shoot out both poison and paralyzing fluid from those welts on its body. Moreover, a water type, his emboar excelled in fighting and blasting fire. Earlier he scoffed at type advantages, now a bead of sweat slid down his sternum, past his stomach and ended up being soaked by his waistband. He forced himself to calm down and think...take advantage of the environment. The ground still lay muddy and it smoked, both his pokemon and the opposition had a good firm grip on it. An amphibian, seismitoad needed a damp environment to function in peak condition. He had to dry out the atmosphere till it became unbearable. "Emboar, use overheat." Hugh intoned and the fire type ignited. The shimmering heat evaporated off its flaming body and chocked the air dry, the crowds took a step back and fanned themselves vigorously whilst the referee, a thin balding man, gaped and pointed to the chain link fence of the ring...the metallic rings were melting.
"I understand what you are trying to do...Seismitoad needs damp to survive and you are drying out the air via unorthodox methods since environment changing moves such as sunny day and rain dance are forbidden in this competition." Swiping his hair out of his eyes, the opponent leered, "however, that won't work...S-"
"Head smash!"
Whilst the blonde busied himself with prattling, emboar, its bulk wreathed in flame, charged across the ring and slammed its head into seismitoad, the toad instinctively retaliated and here Hugh held his breath, the motions of the two beasts seemed to slow down and he narrowed his eyes and observed akin to a hawk. The bulges on seismitoad vibrated, the muscle laden arm juddering as the beast pulled back and smashed an arm in Boar's face. Two of the lumps exploded, spraying a straw coloured fluid over the mega fire pig. Emboar arced through the air and landed explosively at Hugh's feet, the impact sent a mini-earthquake rippling out through the ring. The beast lay and heaved, unable to move properly due to the effects of paralysis. Rubbing his temple, the spiky haired individual fished out a few blood red berries, crouched near his partner and painstakingly fed the creature as hot steam blasted across his face. The umpire called a fifteen seconds time out and from the opposite end, Hugh saw seismitoad flex its muscles and leak a muddy film from its pores. With great effort Boar got up and snarled, shooting a tongue of flame in the process. Inhaling a gulp of air, the fire type roared out a plume of fire and covered seismitoad with it. A blast of water reduced it to steam however emboar continued its furious assault and soon steam evaporated into nothingness. The roaring stopped abruptly and Hugh grinned, the protective layer around seismitoad had burned away. Panting with obvious exertion, the amphibian lumbered forward, fatigue distorting the agility of the pokemon. The blonde teenager smirked, no matter how anyone looked at it, the outcome of the battle was clear. Water and ground versus fire...Hugh would lose miserably.
Patting down his spikes, the crimson eyed teen smiled knowingly, Boar wasn't his trump card for nothing, even if it faced against water type opponents, the fire pig had an ace up its sleeve. "Boar, use solar beam." He could feel the astonishment wrinkling from both the audience and his enemy, a fire creature learning a grass type move? Preposterous, but it did the job. A pillar of brilliant green energy hit the water type clearly in its abdomen, seismitoad spasmed, tried to push back and eventually succumbed to its weakness. Several more of the welts decorating its body popped and purple liquid splashed and dried in the air.
Ding
Time for the verdict. A sudden lull occurred in the noise engulfing arena number fifteen. Hugh's bland face rotated above the screen and the referee held his arm up and declared him the victor. Cheers and congratulatory phrases exploded around him. Confetti and glitter showered down and he offered another polite smile. Holding up the medal, he basked in the glory of triumph for a few more minutes before slipping away. Victory? No, he still had a long way to go.
Four days later. Day four of the Championships league
Unova
Night
When Hugh stepped into the room, he felt his energy ebb away.
"Let me explain the rules for battling the elite four. You four went through numerous battles, crushing your opponents to stand where you are today." The four trainers nodded solemnly and sat stiff backed on the bench, cans of water or pop in clenched in their fists. "First of all, there is the order, you can choose whom you want to go up against, however, once you enter, there is no turning back. Secondly, make sure you stock up on supplies for both you and your pokemon as you are not permitted to visit the mart nor the pokemon centre for the duration of your challenge. The duration of the challenge is three days. Two days for battling the elite four and one day reserved for the champion, thus you can battle two members of the elite four today and the rest tomorrow. For proper enforcing of the second rule and to prevent cheating, we, the Unova league officials will be in possession of your pokemon after you finish your day's tasks Thirdly, arena changing moves such as hail, rain dance, sandstorm are not allowed, however if your pokemon has such an ability, we shall make an exception. Your pokemon have all been checked when you entered on Victory Road, but keep in mind we shall check their health and status again. Doping is forbidden and if we find such traces...You will be eliminated immediately. Understood?" The quartet replied in affirmative, "Good, once you battle the Elite four, arena rules come into play, your opponent rules the terrain, not you, keep your wits up; each setting will be different than the last."
He remembered the burly councillor's words now. Hugh wanted to battle Grimsley right off the bat, instead he was forced to take his second choice of Shauntal as some other kid decided to confront the gambler first. And when he stepped into the room, he felt his energy ebb away. The walls of the circular chamber seemed to be woven out of darkness and purple fire. Large iron framed windows provided a dismal scenery of sable canvas and on either side of each window, mauve litwick flame danced in brass brackets. He sluggishly pulled himself across, it felt like wading through molasses and on looking down at the carpet, he bit down on internal scream on finding himself plodding through a sea of coarse knee high fur, violet and black hair clawed over the material of his pants. Forcing himself, he eventually alighted in the middle of the room and stared. Books. The floor was littered with wobbling towers of books, individual documents and single ones lay strewn across the modest wooden floor. Above his head, dangling proudly, almost maliciously from an intricately shaped post, a chandelure leered. It swung a few times on the pedestal and here the challenger could not help but utter a drawn out scream when all the tomes and papers in the chamber flew upwards. Azure fire raced along the walls setting champagne silk curtains on fire. The room shuddered and Hugh shook along with it, blood drained from his face and crouched low in an effort to preserve both his energy and sanity.
"Welcome challenger..." a fruity voice floated from somewhere and Hugh's pupils darted about slowly in order to pinpoint the person. He felt tired, exhausted and his mind fogged. "My name is Shauntal. I specialize in ghost types and also have a part time job as a novelist. Your reaction right now...Hmm, typical and not quite. I'm surprised you could withstand the numerous litwick sucking your life force from you. You set a new record, most people faint right after they step in." Hugh blinked, Shauntal looked young and cute on television, but up close, with her chandelure's ghostly fire flickering across her face, she appeared as a witch. The woman waved her hand and all the purple flame extinguished. At once, Hugh felt energy swell back into his limbs and he stood up shakily. Behind the elite four member, he glimpsed something gold and pellucid streams of shadows snaked across the floor. Shuffling backwards, he took a stance and let his first pokemon out. Unfezant hovered in the air, a miniature scope lens clamped over its beady eyes.
"Air slash." Hugh commanded "and protect." The avian beast produced a chopping gust of air and its trainer nodded in grim satisfaction as the shadows on the floor and camouflaged in the air broke up and snapped back to cofagrigus. The four black hands folded inwards then blitzed outwards and bounced off a protect. Shauntal noted all of this down in a book, she sat on her table and ordered her pokemon with tiny gestures and hushed commands. This made Hugh angry...He would force her to take this seriously. Temples throbbing, he worded another instruction. Unfezant tumbled in the air and avoided several shadow balls, with a bang; it descended on the golden sarcophagus and raked powerful talons over it. The sound of tearing metal prompted Shauntal to glance upwards; she saw the bird type shredding the lid into pieces whilst the spiky haired trainer egged it on.
"GO Spiky haired Hugh!" Gold hollered from his seat and stuffed another fistful of popped corn in his mouth, "beat that lady! I'm betting on you! Man I love this guy!" he exclaimed exuberantly and leaned back, the other members of Execution all fixated on the large monitor and unconsciously passed betting slips. In the comfort of their base, they whooped, cursed and cheered. The tradition of watching Championship matches started while Red was still the champion, out of respect for their boss (and to polish their own strategies) the team members watched the broadcasts zealously, it provided good entertainment and solid hours of fun. The group, save for the leader, reclined in stone coloured couches and observed. They held their breath when the trainer of their choice faltered and screamed the roof off if they won. Lack-2, his russet eyes swimming with and unreadable expression, apprised Hugh. On television, the mauve haired trainer now warred with Shauntal's golruk; one of boufallant's ringed horns tore part of the golem's arms off in a savage show of brutality. Gold cheered and fist pumped. The Unovian child simply sighed.
"Oi, what's with the exhale? It's the Unova championships kid! Show some excitement! Cheer for the angry dude will ya? I can see the next champion in the making!" The amber eyed man declared and screeched in pleasure. True...Lack-2 did see the makings of a glorious champion within his best friend however...Copper eyes slid to the black haired individual sitting at a desk near the back of the room; Hugh seemed to have lost the burning passion he had for battling. His eyes were dull and lifeless and only the shiny spark of anger drove him about. The apprentice was afraid his friend would end up like his dispirited leader.
"Hugh is my best friend...I don't want him to become a ghost." He mumbled but as expected, no one heard anything over the raucous laughter and applause.
Red, his cheek resting on a fist, frowned at the ostentatious display flickering in his eyes. Not to say he didn't feel thrilled and if anyone cared enough to check, they would find a thin, slightly distorted smile dancing on his lips. He hated and loved it. The euphoria of winning, the glory of recognition. The rapture of triumph. Along with the politics and back breaking work required of a nation's pseudo leader. He, however, did not experience what it means to be a figurehead. Instead, they used him as a puppet, a mould for bolstering the next generation of trainers to start at an infantile age. Champion Red, the first child to ever beat the prestigious Dragon clan leader, Lance. A child, a mere boy. He created both and uproar and an opportunity. Child soldiers...It was easier to shatter the minds of young kids and build them up completely. They could be caged, moulded and manipulated. And Red had enough of manipulation.
"BREAKING NEWS!"
Ba-dump.
N forgot what it means to fear.
Ba-dump.
The rowdy background noises faded and he focused his attention on the news and words pouring out of the reporters lips.
Ba-dump.
His chest hurt, something bitter forced itself up from his stomach and suddenly he felt lightheaded and nauseous.
Ba-dump.
"The return of Team Plasma!" He heard, of course, the underground base. His former organization hid for so long he forgot they existed. How ludicrous...The ship anchored in Undella bay made his fears tangible yet, he failed to perceive the real threat. N's heart pumped rapidly and he gasped for air. The monitor showed scenes his mind both confirmed and denied. The league's plateau, a smooth, flat plain of rock, erupted and tall, ivory white buildings pushed up from the surface like some ancient creature waking up from sleep. They surrounded the league building from all sides, forming a semi-circle and dwarfing the green domes of the elaborate stadium. Police helicopters rushed to the location and powerful search lights beamed down on several pompous figures standing importantly on the gothic architecture's balconies. A mass of black and pale blue moved and heaved around behind them and to the former king's dismay, he identified them as grunts. He had a firm idea about their plans, according to Team Plasma, the pokemon league acted as the pinnacle of slavery and Ghetsis had drawn up elaborate plans on crushing the building and everything with it. N didn't quite understand how the plan worked; his only interest lay in the freedom of pokemon. Now, he realized that his ideal dream had only been a fleeing fantasy. The acid green haired youth felt sick, next to him, Black's chocolate irises were fixed to the screen, his mouth slightly open with disbelief and shock. Unova was his home too.
At the back, Execution's leader couldn't stop the feral grin spreading across his face, his ambitious project of the year just received a green light and without Green's nagging and Blue's caution, he could go all out. Calling Black, Lack-2 and N, he ushered the trio into his bedroom and asked them to sit. Black plopped on the bed, N had to be guided downwards and the teenager sat down warily, russet irises never leaving the ex-champion.
"You can already guess why I gathered you here..."
"To play hero again?" The youngest Unova native jeered, "you have some ulterior motives don't you?"
Red ignored him and dialled a few numbers on his poke-gear. A monitor fixed to his wall beeped up and seconds later both Whi-2 and White's faces popped up. The raven haired male took his time explaining everything before continuing his previous topic: "I don't like what they are doing, so we will eliminate them. It'll do both us and Unova a favour don't you agree N?" The adolescent nodded dumbly, "Right. I trust you N not to do anything foolish, we are your family now and if anything bothers you, you should discuss the problem with us." Red smiled, "Now for the actual briefing, Team Plasma is going to try and tear the league apart and we know from past experiences that they are worthy adversaries. We need to prepare...Black, I'll leave the cards to you," the teenager nodded and whipped out a notepad, "put Charizard's mug shot in, I'll pester Green to lend it to me. As for who is going with m-"
"Please let me come with you!" The Kanto native blinked at the sudden exclamation and glanced at the screen. Whi-2 looked defiant. "I...Was also watching the Championships...Please, I just want to see Hugh. He...Is one of my best friends."
"I guess..." Red scratched his head, "I can't deny that...Lack-2 do you want to see Hugh as well?" The boy solemnly nodded. "Fine. However, don't you dare entertain thoughts of escaping, Blue will hunt you till the ends of the earth." The children nodded gravely and Lack-2 hissed under his breath. "Preparation must take no more than two days; we will be heading down there with our flying types...Make a note of that. Meeting dismissed!" The three males scrambled up and scrammed out of the room. Whi-2 bid goodbye and left and only the ponderous visage of White remained on screen.
"Do you want to come as well?"
"Yes sir...If it isn't a bother."
"You can't battle well White...This is a war we will be waging. I'm worried about you." Red exhaled looked at her straight in the eye.
"I'll try my best. I won't give up and if I can't battle properly...I'll learn how to!"
"Ahahaha! I like your spirit, then, good luck White. I hope to see you tomorrow; maybe I could give you a few tips." She nodded her head respectfully and the screen blanked.
Night
Hoenn
Mountain Lodge
White stared at the empty monitor of her Xtransciever and closed her eyes. She thought Team Plasma had gone for good and now, without warning they pop out from underground. Apprehension gnawed on her mind, she knew Black and N would be going and keeping this in mind, she volunteered. For some reason, her cognizance foretold a bad premonition and her solosis' inexplicable sickness only served to cement her suspicions. The cinnamon haired teenager let her shock of hair down and combed the silky strands with her fingers. She got up, drew the heavy curtain and turned off the lights. Her room bathed in the viridescent glow of the cell pokemon. Gently she scooped up the creature, wincing slightly at the high temperature it exuded. Pooling a few sheets and fluffy blankets on her otherwise immaculate bed, she placed Solly in the comfortable nest and snuggled down with it. Tomorrow, she decided, she would pack and leave for Unova.
Her home.
A/N: For all those who missed Hugh, here you go, like you expected, the poor dude has been searching for his friends. Much thanks to sileaf for following this story, I hope it continues to be a pleasant read. At Silver: Exactly my point! I mean if you think about it, metamorphosis could be counted as evolution on a much smaller scale but hybrid animals can't reproduce due to their bizarre chromosomes. They say it takes millions of years and change occurs on a minute scale…pfft. Anyway, it's easier to identify famous people based on their pokemon, like Green or Red, and yes, if they have pokemon from a different region, it'd be trickier. At HeyYouYaYou: Lol, I do keep on going for a few more chapters, I was a bit apprehensive that the readers would fall asleep and hopefully the next explanations will still make sense. If you have queries, feel free to ask :) At AceTrainerLeaf: Ahahaha, I have a habit of deconstructing things I watch and read and finding explanations for them. Green stealing the mega stones? Doesn't happen until the 57th chapter (Yes! Revel in the anticipation! :D ) Please look forward to it. At Doyouneedacuddle: Red, child or a man…hmm how about a man-child? (crude joke, I'm sorry). Personally, I think he is a bit like that, in the manga, when he was younger, Green (even though they are rivals) always had to look after him. And Red doesn't harbour grudges or dwell on his feelings like his intellectual counterpart. If he is depressed, he'll sink and then after a five minute pep-talk, he's bouncing back and ready to do some justice. I just see him like that. He will go through character development, of course, but at the moment, I see him like this. In the previous arc, they had a huge fight and Green went through a spell of negative character development. You are right, I'm terrible at proof-reading and Mindy won't read my things to save her life. I'll spend more time on the chapters like you suggested. Thanks for the constructive criticism, I'll be sure to review my chapters more intently from now on. At Jack: Hehehe, what makes you think he's letting Steven know of his dubious plans? Steven is an ex-officer and it's absurd to think that Green is going to confide his plans to him. Creating those stones aren't easy though. At Guest: Green is cautious enough not to do anything weird in front of Steven no? And being who he is, he will probably carry out his misdeeds at the safest possible time. Thanks for reviewing btw.
Okay, I'm going to release chapters a bit slower so that the readers can have time to read and review :P Thanks for the continued support, it means a lot to me and is a huge motivating factor. Please keep on reading, reviewing and providing constructive criticism. Virtual chocolate cake and cookies for all.