Aha, my "short" Teal Mask idea... This got out of hand immediately. As most battle scenes do.
But I did it for the *content*
Thanks to all the enjoyers out there! Every kind word fuels my hunger for these silly Pokemans, and the more I write her the more I love Nemona with every fiber of my being. She's so fun, and I'll definitely put more out into the world~
Warbling feedback emanates from the Cortondo arena. A backpacker with wiry black hair under his shaggy grey bucket hat lets the last bite of an olive oil-fried casadiella droop down to his plate, distracted by the shattered ambiance.
Numerous Soapberry patrons watch as Florian fumbles with his wireless microphone. Carmine stands at the eastern end of the pitch, doubled over with hands clamped over her ears; meanwhile Nemona winces from the west, shoulders tense.
The sounds crescendo with a sharp blip, and then cease. Florian looks out at the scattered audience before chuckling into the microphone.
"Sorry."
Every breath beats against the steel cage, rippling bursts of sound out of speakers hidden throughout the wooden plank floor and spider web rope fencing of the interconnected tree house platforms. Florian moves the mic further from his mouth.
"Erm… H-Hey, everyone."
A long pause.
Florian shifts his gaze from a sea of eyes in the dining area to Nemona, who's still clearing her ear with a pinky.
"This is tougher than I expected." He mutters, a hand over the microphone to protect his innermost thoughts.
Nemona looks back with palpable surprise.
"You've battled evil androids hell-bent on destroying the planet, but you can't handle a bit of public speaking?"
Carmine's sour expression slips as she unlatches her head. "Sorry, you did what?"
Florian waves Carmine off – that's a story for another day – before taking a deep breath. He tries to recapture a waning audience's attention.
"So, this is my friend. Carmine. She's from Kitakami." He gestures toward her, framing the light of Cortondo's modernist Gym over his shoulder.
Carmine looks more petulant by the second.
"She's visiting Paldea. Um… Obviously. And she's going to have a fun little match with Nemona here." He folds in his arm to swap the microphone into that hand, and then gestures out the other. "Guessing she doesn't need much of an intro."
His assumption proves accurate, as Nemona waves to the audience and gets a few whistles and claps in return.
"It's nothing too serious, just a two-on-two—"
Before Florian realizes what's happening, Carmine is on top of him. "Just get on with it," she hisses while snatching the microphone.
"I'll have you know it's plenty serious!" The Kitakami girl's commanding presence comes through the speakers, jostling the cloud cover above Paldea. "I'm gunna show your so-called 'Champion' here what's what in the name of Blueberry Academy."
Boos and jeers don't deter Carmine. She thrusts a finger at Nemona.
"And none of that Tera nonsense, got it? Not unless one of you wants to give me a fancy crystal ball too."
Nemona sheepishly rubs the back of her neck.
"It's not really something the League just hands out to anyone with a pretty face," she offers an apologetic shrug. "And I already gave out my extra allotment."
Carmine clenches her jaw tight. Her arms start to shake, and her face runs red. It seems different than her typical fury… But before anyone has the chance to think it over, she slams the microphone against Florian's chest (the pound reverberates broadly) and storms back to her space.
Florian watches her go with a tender rub along his sternum, and then holds the mic up one last time.
"Right. Good clean fun and all that! Let's uh… Get to it."
He hits a switch on the side of the device to shut it off before running across the green-and-red mosaic Poke Ball at the center of the arena, joining the casual diners. The backpacker seems particularly enthused about his table's front-row seating.
Nemona is quick to pluck a Poke Ball from her belt and lob it up and down.
Carmine's pre-battle ritual is more considered. She draws from a yellow pouch hanging around the stomach of her jinbei and holds the Poke Ball to her mouth. All but the most observant may miss her whispering, eyes closed, as if in prayer.
Soon her snake-slit golden eyes widen, mascara-sharpened lashes cutting the air. She holds the ball out for her opponent to see. Her expression is solemn.
Exacting.
Palpably deadly.
With a backhanded toss, Carmine's Morpeko hits the field in its Full Belly Mode. A scarlet Focus Sash headband accents her brown-and-black fur jacket.
"Peko!" The Pokemon cries, jubilantly hopping on stubby legs.
Nemona grins.
"I can hardly contain my excitement!"
Her proclamation is followed by a baseball pitcher's throw, releasing Goodra. The kindly Dragon towers over Morpeko, and scatters globs of slime as it holds its arms out.
"Dra-dra!"
Goodra mimics its trainer as Nemona punches a fist into her gloved right hand.
"Show me what you've got, Blueberry!"
Carmine's nose flares in disgust as she commands with a point.
"Go Morpeko, Aura Wheel."
The rodent leaps up and is caught in midair by a physical band of crackling static. Morpeko starts racing on all fours, panting excitedly, but goes nowhere. Instead, the electrical energy solidifies as it curls behind her like a wave. When it crashes back down, the energy forms a solid wheel of oscillating blue-and-red light.
When Morpeko's wheel hits top speed, it uncouples from its invisible shackles. Morpeko rams the attack straight into Goodra's purple gut, and the impact is enough to slide her back a few paces.
But the Dragon-type holds.
Aura Wheel melts Goodra's slimy form until goop starts to cover the energy and its operator. Friction slows the attack to a crawl and Morpeko stumbles. As the wheel's energy dissipates, Goodra smacks her opponent back to Carmine's side.
Morpeko rolls head-over-back, and then sits on the ground dazed a moment longer. Focus Sash floats off. Some of Goodra's sickly slime mats down patches of fur, counteracting any Speed that Carmine's Pokemon received.
"Our turn then." Nemona's gloved fist thrusts skyward. "Let's make use of this weather, Goodra. Rain Dance!"
Goodra's call haunts the battlefield as its twin-tail antennae wave rhythmically. The Pokemon pulls a damp-looking rock out of some crevice in its malleable body, shimmering even in flat lighting.
A white-hot flash illuminates the South Province.
A boom rumbles loose floor bricks around Soapberry a second later.
An angry charcoal hue permeates the roiling clouds over Cortondo. They give way, dumping an ocean's worth of rain upon Paldea. A haze of droplets bursting against every surface masks the earthy scent of farm fields and fresh-baked pastries.
Nemona spins with her arms out as the downpour soaks through her school uniform, dampening to a grayer shade. Goodra also looks happy for the shower, rubbing moisture into her face. Members of the bakery audience murmur about the sudden predicament, but have patio umbrellas as cover; much luckier than Cortondo's children heard yelling as they race back home. Florian ducks into a patio chair across from the backpacker, whose stuff is already tucked beneath the table.
Carmine's rage boils into a fiery inferno that not even the storm can quench.
"Rrraagh!"
Both Nemona and her Pokemon come face-to-face with unadulterated fury, streaming mascara, and gnarled claws. Morpeko is pissed in its own adorable way, colors morphing into Hangry Mode's dark purples and blacks as she stomps the melted slime at her feet.
"Do you know how long it took me to fix my hair after the flight?!" Carmine nearly tears soggy ribbons out of her scalp. Hair flops back with the sad plop of a used mop.
She throws out her hand-claw, shaking with unkempt energy, trying to crush Nemona's head with her thoughts.
"Two can play at this game! Use Thunder!"
Morpeko squeals, jumping up and hugging its arms and legs tight before splaying out like a star. She flashes, sending a wire-thin strand of light into the sky.
Thunder cracks down to the bakery in return, forcing everyone in town to cover their ears at once. The bolt strikes Goodra, who's engulfed in a spiral of electric energy that sheers off half an inch of mucous. Nemona looks away for fear of being blinded, but Carmine's golden irises shine as she unflinchingly stares down her prey.
Once Nemona peers back, she finds her Pokemon on its knees. Jolts of electricity thread along Goodra's limbs every time she tries to move, keeping her paralyzed. Scorch marks darken the clay court.
"Now, Lash Out!"
Carmine's fist clenches, and Morpeko capitalizes on their opponent's struggle. It scampers toward Goodra and pounces, letting off a flurry of deep scratches intensified by black-and-red Dark energy.
Goodra cries out, the gentle giant's whines become an ever-present backing to Morpeko's frantic yelps.
Nemona covers her mouth with both hands and, for a moment, panics.
"¡Goodra, mi amor!" Her natural accent muffled by shaky fingers. "Break out! Use Power Whip, Flail… Anything!"
Despite the frontal onslaught and rain pounding down, Goodra rises. Its footing is unsteady, owing to deep gashes in its core and chest, but the Dragon-type prevails.
With a resounding "Draaa!" she slams Morpeko with a tail moving so fast it cracks like another stormy bolt.
Morpeko's snarl gives way to a pained cry as it sails across the battlefield, tumbling to Carmine's feet. By the time Morpeko settles, its body has faded back to a natural yellow with brown pigment on the right side.
It sleeps peacefully.
As Carmine returns her fainted partner, the sounds of Nemona celebrating and audience cheering distorts into tinnitus. She feels the Poke Ball's plastic texture crackle under clenching fingers.
"Come on, Carmine." The same intonation she's used to push Kieran countless times escapes tacky strands between her washed-out lips. "What would Kiki say if you lost your first goddamn battle in Paldea."
Swapping out her Poke Ball only takes one hand. Carmine pound, pound, pounds her head with the other, palm and phalanges rattling the temporal bone like a drum.
Sopping-wet hair sticks to her fingers as she pulls away.
Carmine's mood swings back to concentrated, though her eyes twitch whenever stung by sideways rain. Even the weather is on Nemona's side.
Lightning flashes. Thunder rolls.
Olive mud sloughs down South Province's many hills far below the creaking walkways of Cortondo's arena, where multihued twine balls threaten to escape their hanging orbits around thick tree trunks.
One moment there's empty rain. Then a flash. The next, a brown-and-white ceramic cup with painted loop-de-loop eyes fills the void.
Rain displaces liquid in the cup, scattering mint-green droplets. But soon Sinistcha stretches out with over the lip with its chasen hat firmly set. Its viscous form prevents more spilling, including through the hole where its feet dangle at the bottom.
"Go on, Sinistcha! Teach 'em a lesson with Shadow Ball!"
The tiny Pokemon waves its cocktail fork hands to gather ghostly energy. This exercise puts a strain on the cup it calls home, which rattles against pounding rain as lines of matcha kintsugi glow hot, threatening to re-shatter the tinkling porcelain.
Sinistcha's black hole manifests and launches.
Nemona's paralyzed Goodra can't react nearly fast enough, and she's flung into a goopy pile when the Ghost-type's cursed energy blows up in her face.
Carmine feels the rain beat down her hair again, not her face.
A glint returns to her golden eyes.
Meanwhile, Nemona sinks a hand into Goodra's shoulder for a kind word before returning the monster. "You did great, take it easy now."
Straightening her posture, Nemona stretches out lithe arms. The rain hardly phases her, despite a green hair strand suctioned to her forehead and nose.
"Guess it's not all sour grapes for you, Blueberry."
Carmine snarls. Her opponent laughs.
"Oye, cheer up would ya?" Nemona pulls her next Poke Ball and holds it to her smiling face, wrapped in both hands. "This is the most fun I've had all week!"
"I'll have fun when I see you eating dirt!" An indignant retort.
"Always the dirt with this one," Nemona mumbles as she winds up her next pitch.
Her Quaquaval bursts onto the battlefield and flaunts each part of his body as the digital energy scatters from head to toe. One wing behind his head, the other at his hip, the Dancer Pokemon offers their opponent a saucy smile. Hydrophobic feathers keep Quaquaval secure in the weather, but rainwater still makes the teal patterning on his headpiece, wings, and tail feathers shimmer with an ever-running wash.
"Qua! Qua! Qua!"
The Pokemon's whooping energizes everything and everyone, and it starts keeping rhythm with the steady tap-tap-tap of its bulbous toes. Cortondo's hardened clay arena and rainwater amplify each beat, splashing spouts wherever Quaquaval steps.
Some of the rain coalesces behind the Pokemon. Abstract teardrops fill in midair, forming Quaquaval's signature peacock feathers.
"Nothing like a fiesta in the rain!" Nemona claps along to her partner's beat, and the duo look ready to salsa there and then.
Audience members are certainly receptive. The backpacker sitting opposite to Florian whistles with his pinkies, and others clap alongside Nemona.
"Aerial Ace, Quaquaval!"
Her Pokemon squawks, and the simple Flying-type attack opens with a prelude. Quaquaval tap dances to the pitter-patter of the storm that rocks their arboreal arena. Each tap kicks up water, and each slide of Quaquaval's foot rocks iridescent waves into the air. The dark sky brightens with each clap of his wings, bringing farmsteads to life.
Quaquaval performs an axel jump, rotating one-and-a-half times. As the Water-type spins, teardrops follow its rear one at a time, forming a chain. The Pokemon lands precisely on its left foot and skirts the right in a circular arc, finishing the rotation back to where it started. Quaquaval follows through with its wing, swiping the chain of teardrops toward Sinistcha – powerful enough to split falling droplets into a shining planetary ring.
The razor gust knocks Carmine's Grass-type back with a new crack to repair.
"Hey!" Carmine huffs, grasping the soaked hem of her jinbei. "C'mon, quit it with the supereffective moves!"
"What's wrong Blueberry?" Nemona stands heroic as Quaquaval pulls the teardrops back into peacock configuration. "Don't tell me this is the best you've got!"
Carmine nearly rips the fabric.
"No way I'll be out-dazzled by a BIRD!" She throws a hand out, trying to psychically push Nemona off the edge again. "Time to stir things up a bit."
As she holds both hands to her core, Sinistcha hides inside its teacup. The ceramic starts twirling faster and faster as it floats into position before its trainer.
"Matcha!"
Carmine throws her hands high in the air.
Sinistcha rattles uncontrollably. A geyser of minty liquid sprays from its cup. The sky is filled with an earthy mist that sizzles as rain evaporates when it touches scalding liquid.
Nemona and Quaquaval stare in awe, and members of the audience peer out from their umbrellas.
"Gotcha!"
Carmine's arms fling to each side.
Sinistcha's cloud solidifies into an amorphous orb, from which its swirling yellow eyes manifest and look upon the battlefield. An eerie giggle rings out before the bubble bursts, and five matcha sprays descend upon Quaquaval.
The Dancer Pokemon cries out as matcha burns through his feathers, writhing from pain and the gut-wrenching sensation of its life force being drained. One stream strikes Quaquaval's back, and all twelve of the teardrop rings solidify as encroaching green matcha fills their gaps like a Kintsugi project.
Then, Sinistcha reemerges from its teacup as though it never left. The Matcha Pokemon's haunting giggle reverberates as it calls back the substance adhering to Quaquaval's body, subsuming more life force.
"Now you know the true power of Kitakami." Carmine tries to toss her hair, only for it to flop in her face again.
Nemona is stunned silent, staring at Sinistcha beyond her partner while Carmine struggles with visibility. When the foreign visitor does look out again, she meets Nemona's dumbfounded expression with a glare.
"What?!"
Suddenly, Nemona bursts out laughing. She jumps up and down in the puddles.
"Encore! Encore!" As Nemona claps, even her partner Pokemon wonders which side she's on. "That was the coolest attack I've ever seen!"
"HEY!" Carmine points an aggressive finger. "Quit patronizing us!"
Sinistcha doesn't seem to mind, twirling and chirping at the compliments. But Nemona calms down, clearing her throat and pumping her gloved arm.
"I know just how to pay you back for that. Use Ice Spinner, Quaquaval!"
The damaged Pokemon perks up its beak and jumps, landing with an emphatic cry. When it hits its mark, a fan of ice snaps into existence from Quaquaval's tail feathers, connecting all the matcha-covered teardrops around his back.
"Quaval!"
Nemona's partner balances between the scorch marks left by Morpeko and Goodra. It pirouettes repeatedly, picking up speed until the icy fan is indistinguishable from a blade-rimmed top.
It impacts Sinistcha with such force, the shattering whip-crack can easily be confused for more thunder.
Sinistcha's cup splits as the Pokemon inside succumbs to this striking move.
Carmine unceremoniously returns the whole ensemble to her Poke Ball, which she pins to her chest with a forlorn glance at a rippling puddle.
"… Guess all Florian's friends are at a pretty high caliber, huh?"
She hears Nemona's sneakers crash through water, and finds the Paldean girl racing toward her with a shining grin that breaches the storm.
"Oye, that was incredible!"
"Huh?"
Nemona rams into Carmine, grabbing both her hands to spin around her. Carmine's eyes shoot wide as she wobbles unsteadily, trying not to slip in her Tabi.
"Florian was right, you don't hold anything back!" Nemona giggles as she dances around Carmine, who looks a little overwhelmed by the attention. "We have to battle again soon, I need to see more of what your crazy Kitakami brain cooks up!"
Carmine's breathing slows when Nemona stops and squeezes her hands. She finds it so hard to stay angry at these Paldeans and their fancy herbal shampoos.
Pulling her hands back, Carmine scratches around the mole under her left eye. "... It is a pretty spectacular brain."
"Right?!"
Nemona twirls and lets her Rotom Phone loose. It floats out and Nemona poses with a 'V.'
"Here, say 'Combee'!"
The other girl barely has time to register what's happening before a photo snaps, capturing a soaked cryptic. Nemona looks plenty pleased with the end result.
"Oh yeah, this rocks." She giggles. "Gimme your number, I gotta send this to you! And follow all your socials!"
Carmine stares with her mouth agape.
"Uh… I don't have a Rotom Phone."
"What?!"
Nemona looks shocked – hurt even.
"Well that won't stand! I'll just have to give you one."
"Huh?" Carmine is taken aback. "No! I don't want to owe you anything."
"Nonsense! I'm basically the Rotom Phone heiress, it's easy pickings."
"You're what?!"
As they chatter in the storm, Florian gets up from his seat and cracks his back. "Can't wait to try and get home in this weather."
"No kiddin'." The backpacker laments his final bite of casadiella.
Before Florian can go anywhere, an imposingly cheery woman stops him. She stands under a web-patterned sage umbrella, dressed in a full-length brown apron with curls of green hair hidden under a rounded Kalosian toque.
"Leaving so soon?" Katy chimes, tilting her head sweetly. Gloved hands twirl her umbrella. "I'm just dying to ask your friend about her matcha recipe."
