Forbidden Waters – 18

"Goooood morning, Laeden and Landed of Lumiose! I hear we truly have a spectacle to behold this morning. Isn't that so, Sir Gianno?" The lady on screen had an uncanny complexion; pampered, painted, and poreless. The contrasts of violet lipstick and ebony eyelashes against blushing ivory cheeks was overshadowed, however, by the ostentatious, feathery art exhibit she had wreathed her curvaceous body in. She was a veritable Quaquaval, stepping samba while standing still.

The man beside her rubbed his train-plow chin with a white gloved hand. His body, proudly gilded in white and gold military decorations, loomed over the set and commanded the camera; forged in the shipyard of his mother's womb, it must've been a miracle he made it out to sea. "Indeed we do, Miss Margot! And would you believe it…"

She waited, leaning back into her abstractly shaped lounge chair, and the studio audience eventually went silent. "Would we?"

He leaned forward with a cheeky smile. "Perhaps you might, for our most esteemed Golden Loupe was graced by none other than Blaziken Masque himself!"

"Ugh…" Valorie rubbed her temples, still stuck in yesterday's sweaty, torn up fatigues. The audience on the flat screen TV built into the wall gasped and cheered as she ham-fisted a fat, perfectly seared breakfast sausage and bit it in half like a savage.

Miss Margot brushed a lock of slick, black hair out of her face as she leaned forward with intense curiosity. "Tell us all about it, I'm sure your boys and girls on the beat caught the whole show."

Gianno smirked and clapped his hands together. "That and more. Get this, a woman on the run, a fugitive from justice, and a noble woman…" he leaned in, "a De Blanc!"

The audience rumbled with anxious murmurs.

He continued on, making himself comfortable now the Meowth was out of the bag. "Well, she was about to be taken into custody for desertion in the line of duty… but then, straight from distortion, she had a guest of the royal family come to her rescue, standing between her and the law." Behind the two hosts, a green screen wall brought up a picture of Valorie on her knees in the street and Richard, standing defiantly in his exercise clothes, pointing at the Jennies with guns trained on his chest.

Richard swallowed a mouthful of peanut-butter jelly Galarian waffles and pointed at the television with a utensil in his hand, rear end hopping up and down in his seat. "Ooh, hell yeah! Look guys! We're on TV!" he said with childish excitement as a tuxedoed waiter dodged Richard's fork and poured him a fresh glass of Persim Juice.

"Arbitrated by none other than the Masque himself, league contestant Richard Stone took on the entire squad by himself with two Pokemon! All in the name of true LOVE!"

The audience awed as Miss Margot held a palm to her chest, visibly gushing, apparently overwhelmed at the romantic display. "What is Kalos but the land of Love? Such warmth is always welcome here," she said as a video feed replayed Spinel flailing his tendrils wildly and then getting roughed up on camera. Blood was blurred out in bricks of pixelation that still somehow left little to the imagination as his little body was hucked around the square.

The screen switched to a Dexnav video feed from someone in the crowd, the moment Spinel bit Arcanine's ear off, with audio enhanced for maximum clarity. " {You like that, bitch?! Yeah, Daddy does too!}"

"The cries of victory! Never deny the burning passion of the Fairy types!" Margot cheered, clapping with just the ends of her fingers.

Gianno coughed into his fist and looked around impidimpishly, "Burning is right, looks like the police brought the fireworks for the Masque this time." The merry laughter of a live-studio-audience accompanied high definition photos of Spinel being engulfed in flames with stuff exploding in the background.

Incineroar, with Machamp at a table segregated from the rest of the human guests by velvet ropes, turned her attention away from the tiny brown food pellet trapped between her claws, then blew a heart-shaped smoke ring his way and winked. "{Took that like a champ, daddy.}"

Machamp nodded frantically, one hand giving him a thumbs up, another sliding his plush pink headphones down to his shoulders to listen in, and the bottom two busy shoveling handfuls of specially formulated performance nutrient into his face like he was at the gym curling iron.

Spinel, sat with Vaporeon at an intricately set pet table nearby, wrapped his head up into a furious knot of ribbons, face flushed red hot. "Ugh!"

Gianno gestured for the crowd to settle down and wore a serious expression. "All jokes aside, our honored guests, Richard and his servant Emilio, reminded us all yesterday how important it is to take great care as masters to our Pokemon friends, wild or not. After all, things aren't as safe as they were back when Pépé was ten!"

Emilio glanced up at the TV, and quietly cursed under his breath as he continued sampling fresh fruit, artisan breads, and gourmet cheeses from a private platter.

Valorie whistled at Spinel and hissed, "{now, doofus!}"

Emil's head popped up, recognizing the words. "Now what?"

Val pitched a chunk of bread and nailed him directly in the forehead. "{In 'Mon, Nymble!}"

Emil rubbed his temple and propped his glasses back up onto his face. "{What now?}"

She chuckled, drank an entire mug of lavish hand-pressed iced cappuccino in two seconds flat, and handed the glass to a waiter for another. "{I'll tell you when you're older.}"

Richard watched the exchange, head tilted to pour the emptiness from his ears. "You maniacs get weirder every day, man."

A playback of Vaporeon's rampage, from multiple angles, gave the entirety of Lumiose City a bird's eye view of the absolutely merciless affair. Of Vaporeon snapping her first victim's neck, all but guaranteeing a minimum of a month trapped in Intensive Center Recovery. Of her max power scald necessitating the next Arcanine be hidden behind a wall of ruddy pixels. Of her leaping for another, and then disappearing as she was recalled to her lover's palm. "Truly, trainers are the masters of nature's fury! They are a gift to us all, in the right hands."

Vaporeon growled, one eye open at Emilio, and then knocked her bowl of kibble across the floor in disgust. "Change it," she demanded.

A terrified young servant in white fatigues swept up the mess as another ran to the kitchen to consult the dieticians.

Incineroar scoffed, but betrayed herself with a haughty smile. "{C'mon. Turn that frown upside down, Your Majesty. We've been itching to stretch out our legs and got left in the room... I'm jealous.}"

Machamp swallowed hard and a visible bulge of food slithered down his neck. ""{Yeah, lucky! Shame we missed out! Haven't knocked the lights out on an Arcanine since Stevie was in charge. POW!}"

"So this criminal just gets to go free? After she betrayed her family andthe Crown?!" Margot exclaimed as the audience booed and hissed.

Richard looked around at everyone and chuckled. "Hahaha, that was a funny day, huh?"

"I shouldn't need to remind our brilliant viewers of the long standing reputation of honor and valor of house De Blanc. I know that this will cause a real uproar within the old halls."

"Change it!" Everyone else at the table roared in unison.

Richard fumbled around with the remote, ended up on LeagueMaxx®, then shifted his eyes left and right to gauge everyones' approval. Commercials for exclusive, high definition, pay-per-view Pokemon League videos blared in the background as the tension lifted.

A transition of smoke and flames turned a black screen into a cartoonishly stylized medieval castle wall. "Now available, direct on Pokemmand. Straight to you from the dungeons of Ye Olde Lumiose." The announcer's voice hit with the coarse masculinity of a sock full of gravel.

A passable photoshop cutout of Old Lady Bianca's face was slapped onto the castle wall with equally passable blood splatter effects. On the other side of the screen, a cutout of Maylene with torch flames burning from her eyes stared her down. "Be there, with the Lords and Ladies of the realm, to witness a truly LEGENDARY BEATDOWN!" The words 'Legendary' and 'Beatdown' were smacked onto the screen over everything else in capitalized, rusty, riveted iron characters. Then the words burst into flame. "Expect the unexpected…"

"Bianca de Bel versusMaylene Lindbeck, in stunning, high definition, Grafai-Eye colorview." Clearly readable white text on black flashed on screen with no effects or frills. "Discounted per-view pricing today only! Dex-message nine-nine-nine with the code on your screen for instant access…. Accessonlyondevicewithcodeshown. Payperviewcontentnonrefundable. Chargesdueimmediatelyuponorder. Graphiccontentshouldnotbeviewedbythoseundertenyearsofage. Orderingpartyacceptsfullliability. Pleasewatchresponsibly."

Richard chuckled and started typing away on his device. "Well, we did miss yesterday's match. This is almost as good, right?"

Emilio's eyebrow raised as he scanned the room. Valorie was wearing her trademark look of disinterest, then she glanced at the screen and rolled her eyes as she gestured her approval. Spinel had up and vanished. He was about to lobby for some peace and quiet, but Vaporeon hopped into his lap and bounced with excitement with her paws on the table, watching the advertisement replay for those too slow to order the first go around.

"Definitely don't miss the crowd," Emil relented, and Vaporeon clapped her paws together as the copyright protected official theme of Pokemon League Interregional filled the room and the screen came to life.

The video began by catching the very end of the finale of Cirque Serena's performance. Serena herself stood before the army of Delphox, Braixen, and Fennekin stacked on each others' paws in architectural arrangements of fire and fur. She called out to her troupe in 'Mon, removed her hat, bowed, and then she and her entire troupe was consumed by a massive column of flame that nearly licked the clouds. Even people in the mid-tier seats covered their faces from the heat, and then they were gone as orange and red petals showered down from the sky across the arena.

"That's hot," Richard blurted out, and the entire room writhed in pain.

"What an exquisite display! I tell ya, the folks that get to sit in those seats are treated to some truly unforgettable sights." The announcer always sounded the same, exciting but also hypnotically soothing. Since anyone at the table, in the region, or even in the world could possibly remember it was always thatvoice that accompanied those videos. The name of the announcer was never known, even way back in the earliest days of televised League content. In a strange sort of way, hearing that voice was an assurance that you were watching a quality top-level League Match, that what they chose to show to the world was something undeniably jaw dropping.

Trumpets played by folks in white and gold uniforms heralded the start of the day's feature event. A massive, black-iron portcullis was slowly hand-lifted by a couple stout young men manually turning winches and the contestants walked out from a dark tunnel into the sunlight petal storm.

Bianca had showed up with her white nurse's attire, white red circled hat, and a comb stuck into her hair. Advanced in age but still bouncing around like a kid about to be set loose in a ball pit, she struggled to wrench her gaze away from the gates behind her. "Oh. My. Gosh! Maylene! Did you see the pecson those guys?!" She whistled loudly back at the confused gatemen, winked, and made an unmistakable 'call-me' gesture.

"Yyyyeah, definitely…" Maylene rolled her eyes and shoulders as she hopped around, pumping herself up. "Get'cha Purrloins out now while ya still can, old lady. We're not playin' patty-cake today." She smashed a gloved fist into her palm and grinned. "I plan on taking it all the way!"

Bianca ran a gentle, wrinkled hand across her chin as she thought. For all together too long, in fact. "Aww, that's ok. Doctor says I probably shouldn't play 'Patty-Cake' anymore, anyway." She leaned in with a look of absolute deviancy. "But the doc doesn't need to know everything, does he?" Her eyebrows bobbed up and down and she clicked her tongue as she pulled her half-moon glasses down.

Maylene's awestruck face was frozen in place on the big screen as the introductions began. "Introducing Maylene Lindbeck, representing the talent of Sinnoh! Long time challenger, and recent holder of Elite Seat Number Four!"

Emil cleared his throat. "Hey, um. Have you ever battled with a member of the Elite four?"

Richard smirked and took a swig from his drink. "No need to worry. E-4 isn't all it's cracked up to be, bro. It's a political position when they aren't battlin'. The best of the best end up in the master class and move on." He slugged Em in the shoulder and chuckled. "No way we're gonna trip up and get stuck there, no sir."

"She's come a long, long way since she started her journey as a young trainer, and now this is her first taste of the finest challenges the League has to offer. She's coming today with the smallest team of the season, and perhaps the smallest team I've seen at this level in a long long time. And that means a lot, because like any fighting specialist should, she trains alongside her Pokemon, trading blows that would shatter mere mortals like you and I! Pushing her 'mon as hard as she's willing to push herself, she's already moved mountains, let's see what she can do with three more sets of hands. Let's say hello to…"

Mayllene reached into her gi, expanded three Pokeballs one by one, and released her companions in front of her. "Lucario, Medicham, and Maachaaaamp!" the crowd roared.

Bianca roared with the crowd, hands up, smiling and clapping like a circus Seel. "Holy crap! She's been working you hard, hasn't she boys!" She ran up and gave Lucario and Machamps' arms a squeeze. "Ooooo, aren't you just tough as nails." she cooed as she pinched their cheeks.

Machamp took that as permission to put on a one 'mon gun show while Lucario bent over blushing. Medicham hid behind his trainer, wide expressionless eyes suddenly full of concern.

Maylene's cheek started to develop a tic. Her breathing increased its pace as she kept her cool and she stood between Bianca and her team. "Enough of that. Show everyone what'cha got, grandma!"

Her mouth tightened in confusion again "Oh, you already know what I'm bringing, May!" Bianca's face perked up with a sudden realization and then she chuckled and wagged her palm. "Oh, right. Silly old Bianca." She began rummaging in her purse.

"Everyone, give a warm greeting to Bianca de Bell. Or, shall I say, give her a warm welcome back! After hanging up her trainer hat fifty years ago, she volunteered to serve in the Unovan Medical Corps on the front lines of the Ghetsis Uprising. And she stayed there, revolutionizing the field of battlefield medicine until the end of the conflict. She took up breeding, and eventually retired as Honorary Professor of Surgery at Unova U to teach primary school in her hometown of Nuvema. They say in the corps, 'better hope the last thing you see is a Red Ring!' Are you all as relieved as I am? Say hello to…"

For all together too much time, she spent her time rummaging through the capacious grotto of her purse, littering the arena floor with medicines, crumpled receipts, individually wrapped candies, loose pistol cartridges, and a military trauma kit.

The League announcer broke the stalemate. "Miss Bianca, is everything—"

"I GOT IT! I got it! IgotitIgotitIgotit!" She shoved her hand up into the inner lining of her hat and scraped six pokeballs of all different makes, colors, and models in a frantic load she catapulted towards Maylene. "I knew I kept 'em somewhere safe today!"

"Ahem. Say hello to the squad…"

Her Pokemon exploded into a small crowd in front of her, and she dashed around picking up the Pokeballs she threw as they spread out and took in the crowd. "Herdier… Mienshao… Musharna… Audino… Chandelure… and Serperior!" Her Pokemon gawked in amazement, and Dewott's knees buckled as he covered his ears at the noise of the colosseum full of manically screaming fans.

Bianca leaned down and smooched him on the cheek. "It's ok, they love you!" Dewott smiled nervously and snuggled Bianca's cheek. "Give'em all you got, Sugar," she said as she straightened a striped, blue ascot tied to his neck with a gray, scallop-shaped clasp.

Richard's attention was caught immediately, and he squinted as he studied the ascot.

Maylene stomped a hand carved wooden sandal down. "It's time to come to grips with reality, lady!" She paused for dramatic effect. "Declare your starter, and I'll down 'em like a rough shot of house brew, girl." The air around her shifted and the dust at her feet rushed away, the muscles of her body tensed and the air rippled around her.

Emil's eyebrow raised and he snatched up Richard's dexnav to pause the video, "What the hell?"

Richard looked sideways in surprise, broken from his focus, but calmly relinquished his device as he sipped at his PJ. "What's up, Em?"

Emil pointed, but the phenomenon had already passed and he had to rewind. "Didn't you see that, around her feet and legs!"

Rich laughed, slapping his knee, and shoved Emil nearly out of his seat as he smacked his own head. "Shit, I forget sometimes you weren't raised by battlers with how much you know about 'mon. Some specialist trainers start to be affected by Pokemon energy the longer they spend with their partners. Used to happen all the time with fighting battlers because they train with their 'Mon hand-to-hand."

Emil gazed at the screen. "...really…" Then his gaze floated over to Valorie, who was busy scratching her nose to care about his analysis.

Rich nodded. "Yeah, doesn't happen too often these days, with all the League tools and stuff makin' people more hands-off, but Maylene is old school. Bet a thousand Imaginary Pokebucks she could break boulders almost as well as Jimmy. Well, maybe not now he's evolved, but y'know what I mean."

Vaporeon bit Emil's hand and he gave the remote up to her. She pressed the start button and then snuggled herself up into his lap again after tossing the Dexnav back to Richard with her tail.

Bianca threw out her first 'mon, "Go, Dewott. Play hard as you can, ok?"

Dewott stood there, fidgeting with his paws, left to stand his ground as his companions vanished to the confinement of their balls. He breathed in, breathed out, ran a claw along one of the shells at his hip that had been sloppily painted in pastel fingerpaint with children's well-wishes. Then he snarled and held them at the ready. "Dewwww!" He swished the left-hand shell like a festival fan and the air whip-cracked as it stopped to his side.

"Dewott looks ready to face down whatever Maylene has brewed up in her Dojo! Who will she choose?"

Maylene gestured for Lucario to step forward and recalled her other two companions. She locked eyes with him, they faced each other in eerie silence, and then they pounded fists with both arms. The air shook, raising up dirt from the arena floor, and a blue ring of energy formed between them. Maylene slapped him on the back. "You're ready."

Lucario stood proud, placed his paws together, and bowed to his opponents beside his trainer.

Dewott stared his opponent down, carefully setting his feet in place. He breathed in and out, waiting for the signal to begin. There was a tension in the air as the two Pokemon prepared to–

Biancca gasped, flailing her arms around. "Ohmigosh, Dewott, you need to bow too! Don't wanna be rude!"

Dewott was snapped out of focus and into confusion. He looked back and forth between Lucario and Bianca, and then stiffly copied Lucario's motions. "Dew?" he asked, looking back at her for approval.

His master giggled and smiled as she finished her own respectful bow. "Perfect."

"The match is set, everyone is in place. League Battle Fans, prepare yourselves." A three color light stack counted down with the announcer.

"Three!"

All of the muscles in Lucario's body wound up like springs.

"Two!"

Dewott clenched his teeth and scraped his claws against the cement.

"One!"

Energetic rock music broke the silence.

"GO!"

The tournament ground horns blared and Maylene raised a fist. "Lucario us—"

Bianca leapt up and screamed. "GO FOR THE EYES!"

Her mind was stunned short as a rush of blue and white energy grazed Lucario's head, fired like a laser from where Dewott once stood, and then abruptly fell in a ballistic arc back onto the arena with a sharp whap of his tail against the ground, dripping with residual energy.

Lucario coughed and sputtered as he wiped a sheet of saltwater from his eyes and lifted a paw up to his cheek. Blood ran through the digits of his fat, wet paws and he stumbled around, projecting powerful waves of blue aura energy to push the threat away.

But Dewott was not on the offensive, he stood between Maylene and Lucario, carefully dancing in place, shells shifting in his paws with smooth hypnotic motion.

"Ooooh, a tactically placed Water-Jet, moving right into a Swords Dance! This little guys' a rocket!" the Announcer said, now clearly speaking over the video post-hoc. "Let's see that again!"

Everyone in Richard's party huddled around the television as the servants behind them started moving the ropes to contain them to a smaller, easier to clean area.

The video rewinded like an old-tape recording and started again, in amazingly rendered slow-motion, at Dewott's initial assault. He had his ears covered as the starting horn blared in the playback, but then threw his hands outward into a spin, knelt down to the ground, and launched himself on a jet of water energy so concentrated it was stiff as steel. He spun like a bullet shot from a rifled barrel, aimed directly at Lucario's face.

But clearly, even in the most unsuspected of circumstances, this was a match between equals. Nearly as soon as the attack began Lucario's eyes bulged as he recognized what was going on and started trying to move himself out of the way. Sluggishly, almost as if he was a formula-one driver stuck in the seat of a tractor, he shifted to the right, just enough to avoid having his face driven into like a block of wood.

As Dewott passed by his face, he kicked a spray of water from the jet pushing against his feet to splash Lucario's eyes and swung an arm at the last possible millisecond, grazing his opponent's cheek with a razor-sharp shell. Then he flipped around, pushed his water jet towards the floor, and slowed himself enough for a graceful landing.

Emil nodded. "Must be a Choice Scarf, those reflexes are insane."

Valorie nodded like she knew any better. "Sounds expensive."

Richard shook his head. Not in his normal, humorous way, but more of a polite disagreement. "I dunno. Why would they use a move you can't normally outspeed with a Choice Scarf on? I know Bianca's nuts, but she's not stupid."

"What'chu think that is then? It's clearly a held item, and it looks like a Choicer," Em asked as he rubbed Vaporeon's dewlaps. Normally she would have purred at his touch, but her pupils had grown wide as she watched her future opponents dance in the ring.

Maylene winced, nodded with acceptance, and then performed a spinning kick that smashed her foot down to the floor. A ripple of energy left her body and Lucario's lobes twitched in response.

Lucario took his paw off his cheek and a thin trickle of blood started to stain his fur. He swirled his arms around, crouched, and the concrete beneath his feet started to crackle and break. The ground beneath him glowed with a green light that spread across his whole body as he lifted his arms, digits spread out, like he was curling a thousand pound barbell.

Dewott finished his dance and crouched, shells at the ready, glaring with a focus that seemed impossible to break. "Dewwwwww," he growled, running his shells along the ground, honing them for their next exchange.

Lucario grunted, roared, and then his arms popped up above his head. The ground beneath his feet finally gave way and grass sprouted up in a flashy display of woody crystalline daggers. He leapt forward, fluttering with grassy energy flowing around his body, riding a wave of leafy blades like an ancient senator on a chariot.

Dewott tumbled to the left, leaving a suspiciously dewott-shaped clone made of rippling, clear liquid. As Lucario careened past him, ripping the clone apart, one of the blades jutting this-way-and-that stabbed itself through Dewott's foot, pinning him in place. He screeched in pain, yanking at his own leg, trying to pry himself away from the lance of extra destructive energy hissing, smoking, eating away at his leg.

"Ooooo, that's a rare technique for a Lucario! Trailblaze, everyone!" The Announcer informed the viewers during a lull in the action. "Dewott had better dewsomething quick, or he's getting whopped!"

Lucario rode the wave in a wide, swinging arc, creating a one 'mon freeway to his enemy's face. Every second spent like that made him slide across the waves of green crystals faster and faster, and he was going to crush Dewott whether he did it this pass, or the next, or the next.

Valorie grimaced and looked away from the screen. "Almost forgot why I hate this stuff."

Richard chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "Oh, it's in Pokemons' nature to battle. It'd be abuse if we didn't let them get it out every now and again."

Val gave him a sideways glance, then rolled her eyes. "Yeah…"

Bianca's liver spotted hands clenched Dewott's Friend-Ball, holding it out, wincing as she watched him suffer. "Dewott?"

Dewott raised his head in defiance. "AAAHHH-WOT!" He raised a shell, slashed it across his foot, and cut the energy-tainted digits away. He screamed as he did so and leapt out of the way of the lawnmower coming to cut him like a blade of long grass, dotting his motions in a ten-meter long trail of blood.

"Battlefield amputation?! What incredible grit, ladies and gentlemen," The Announcer cried.

Bianca nodded, clenched her other fist and pumped it. "Don't worry, Sugar, I'll put it back myself when you're done!"

Dewott clenched his teeth, eyes watering, favoring one leg, squinting at the green blur beginning to pick up momentum around the arena. Right in his direction again. He nodded and smiled back at Bianca. "Dewww Wot!"

"Holy SHIT!" Emil shouted, and then covered his mouth, surprised at his own outburst.

Richard's intense analysis had begun again. He watched Dewott's motions, the way he handled the pain, the steadiness in his paws despite the trauma, the way he glanced back at his trainer with complete adoration. So too did his 'mon; Vaporeon, Machamp, and Incineroar all huddled around their Trainer with eyes enslaved to the screen.

"OPERATION SANDBOX SURPRISE!" Bianca cried and Dewott grinned ear to ear.

"Wot…Wot…" Dewott started digging into the floor with his shells, he leapt out of the way of another pass from Lucario, then jumped back into his hole and started burrowing faster and faster "Wotwotwotwotwot!" all the while sprinkling the arena in clouds of dirt and spots of blood.

Maylene swung her arms around and then slowly ended her motions in a loose Wuji stance. Lucario ended his slide, releasing his grip on the unnatural energy he was tapping into, and backflipped onto the arena. He breathed in, copied his master's stance, and stood completely still.

The ground rumbled, the pavement began to crack like a heated sheet of ice, and Lucario's body glowed with brilliant blue energy as he meditated in preparation for Dewott's attack.

"Say it with me everyone! Dig… Dig… Dig!" The video added a track of audience members chanting in time.

Then the earth shook, the camera rattled, and the audience began bouncing around and shifting in their seats. Chunks of cement began to wrench apart as cracks in the arena burst open with rays of rich, dusty, brown aura. Lucario's eyes peeled open, relaxed but prepared to meet the direst of blows.

"Dig… Dig Dig Dig DIG DIG DIG!" The voices were accompanied by the thunder of boots stomping in the stands.

A small hole burst in front of Lucario like a tiny zit burst atop a massive boil. Dewott leapt from the hole, eye level with his foe, and whacked his tail against Lucario's face. The barely perceptible brilliant blue blur of Lucario's fists, in perfect form, spun around, bursting with pent up aura, and then came down on the ground where he expected Dewott to be. The concrete submitted to Lucario's might as if he'd rolled his hands across a layer of eggshells. But Dewott was already gone.

"A Tail Whip disguised as Dig?! INCREDIBLE!"

Richard lurched towards the TV, leaning forward so precariously that Machamp held the back of the chair to support his Master from falling on his own face.

Emil's brow raised. "Rich. That's a Dewott, right? Like, that's not what a second stage evolution should be capable of, right?"

His friend's eyes refused to break contact with the screen. "Say that to Red of Pallet."

Dewott leapt between Lucario's legs, shells slashing shins, and Lucario winced in pain as streaks of blood painted the irregular mess of jagged stones they made together. Lucario attempted to counter, but in response Dewott backflipped away and flashed his shell in a wide, upward arc, cutting a massive laceration across Lucario's chest with a fluttering purple blade of flying energy.

Lucario's knees buckled as he cried out in pain, his eyes were forced shut against his will, and the music changed to something dour and low.

Dewott, one legged acrobat, blocked Lucario's desperate flurry of fists with one shell acting as a shield, sneaking in brutal cut after cut, carefully plucking him apart like a tower of blocks. His foe would attempt to counter, strike, dodge, riposte, and at every tiny moment of respite, but ended up finding the miniscule water-type infuriatingly difficult to make contact with. First the arms, then the body, then his face succumbed to Dewott's butchery. Eventually he fulfilled his master's request by gouging out one eye with a single, clean, crimson gash.

Even with a mangled foot, Bianca's Dewott was a stunning geometric cloud of surgical strikes and bloody shells.

Valorie shook her head in disgust and silently left the room.

Maylene watched in horror, breathing heavy and quick, stunned at the upset. Then she clenched her jaw, bared her teeth, stomped her feet down, made a strong Tauros stance, and then ran her thumb along her neck.

Lucario, who was once lost in an unnavigable sea of panic, suddenly snapped into focus. His body roiled with orange energy, the blood pumped out of his body faster and faster as every single strand of muscle pulled tight as guitar strings, and his undamaged eye rolled around and then locked onto Dewott, who was hopping around, looking for his next opening.

"What's this?" The Announcer began, knowing damn well what was coming next.

Dewott's eyes shot open and the camera slowed for dramatic effect. Lucario lifted an orange, glowing fist. He willingly accepted an incision so horribly deep into his torso that it pulled chunks out of his ribcage free, and then his fist came crashing down, right where Dewott landed after a careful hop out of the way of a feinted jab.

"Reversal!"

Dewott clenched his jaw, flipped his attacking shell into a shield like the other, and shoved them both upward. His legs wobbled and his knees folded, his neck barely held his head up beneath the unbelievable pressure of so much fighting energy crashing into him, and he coughed up blood at the internal trauma liquefying his organs. Then his shells shattered into a fine spray of fractal shards, burst with a bright white light, leaving fine shrapnel cuts across his face and body, and Lucario's fist finally met the ground off to the side with a meaty thud.

"EN-DURE!"

Lucario stood erect on his knees only through a lifetime of intense concentration under extreme duress. He watched Dewott begin to stir back to life, nodded respectfully, and then closed his eyes.

Dewott's entire existence was shaking with intense, unbelievable waves of pain, but he wobbled up and stood before his opponent. He bowed, lazily swirled his arm in a neat arc, and brought one of his little paws down on Lucario's forehead with the daintiest of Brick Breaks. A tiny crackle of orange light ran from the top of Lucario's head, all the way down to his hips, disappeared, and Lucario slumped over into a medley of shattered paving, blood, and chunks of severed meat.

"Lucario is unable to continue!" screamed the on site Judge, and the crowd, once stunned still with intense suspense, exploded into a vibrant chorus of applause and articles of clothing tossed up in the air out of pure merriment.

Several servants had broken their composure and cheered behind them, glad that they chose to use their lunch break to witness a free premium vid.

"Rich?" Emil muttered, noticing that he hadn't blinked since Machamp steadied his chair.

Richard put a finger up to Emil's lips, eyes unwaveringly married to the screen.

Dewott wobbled around with an intoxicated grin on his face, and then collapsed to the ground a few feet away from the carnage with both arms wrapped around his stomach and blood leaking from his foot, mouth, and his nose.

Bianca held out his ball. "Come on back, Honey! Holy Houndstones, you earned it!"

For a faint moment, for a tiny fraction of a second, maybe only a few frames, Richard could see Dewott's body pulsing with a weak white light as she held the clasp around his neck for comfort.

He slumped back into his chair, forehead glistening with freshly brewed sweat. "He's a Sleeper."

Emil took a moment to pick up what Richard was laying down in front of him, but eventually he snatched it up. "...that's an Everstone, isn't it?"

Richard's deadpan expression slowly raised and fell in a tired nod. "He's probably one stray Mean Look away from popping, and he's been holding it in a long, looong, loooooong time." He chuckled. "Must be agonizing, damn."

Emilio's face finally caught up with his brain and his jaw dropped. "You mean he's that fast…naturally?!"

Richard shrugged. "Unless she's pumping him full o' the special stuff from Sylph, and I'm sure as shit Bianca doesn't touch the stuff. Naw… that little guys' one-hundred-twenty-percent, pure, concentrated grit…" He smiled and finally regained some of his classic Richard-ness, "and I cannot wait to chew on it so hard!"

All his Pokemon cheered their agreement. Machampt pounded his fists together, Incineroar held her chin with all the ways she could overcome her type disadvantage, and Vaporeon bounced back up upon the shoulders of her Emilio throne to strategize.

The rest of the match went on, but it was already over. Lucario was Maylene's Ace, her most experienced, most powerful, most flexible, most veteran combatant. She intended to wreak as much havoc as she could, starting her slaughter with Bianca's second stage throwaway, building up momentum for an unstoppable sweep. Instead of that, the sharp force of her strong opening play was cut short like a spearhead slashed away from the haft, leaving her smacking at her opponent in violent desperation.

Machamp came out next, and he was wrapped up like a present in Mienshao's clutches, and choked into submission as she smacked him playfully and Bianca spouted this or that strange command that made absolutely no sense to anyone but her and her team. Medicham managed to lock Mienshao up and Psyshock her unconscious, a tiny pyrrhic victory to take home before Bainca released Stoutland and Medicham was pounced into a whimpering mass with a disciplined Retaliate.

As advertised, it was a truly legendary beatdown.

Richard's Machamp smirked and folded all four arms, flexing his muscles. "{Sloppy. I have no doubt I could handle that… admittedly lovely lady…}"

Vaporeon grinned. "{I bet you could handle her all day, big guy.}"

He harrumphed with intense comedic exaggeration. "{Maybe I will!}"

As he was busy shaking off the sudden wave of fear, surprise, and excitement a pink, white, and blue ribbon carefully slipped a letter into Richard's palm. He whipped around and spotted Spinel, his newest, bestest buddy, sitting beside him with a bright, hopeful smile.

"What's this?" Richard asked, not waiting for an answer as his hands nervously unwrapped the parcel while he looked around and failed to locate Valorie.

Spinel blushed, turned the letter around in his hand and pointed to the address, penned in careful vermilion calligraphy.

"For: You."

He turned the parchment around, breath trembling.

Spinel swallowed his throat, doing everything in his power to maintain his cool veneer.

"Meet me at Café Amaura tonight.

6pm

Don't be late."