As Palmer fights a yawn while fixing up food for himself and his Pokèmon, he manages to spy Cyrus having a conversation on his Pokètch with someone.
Food expenses were, by far, the worst part of Pokèmon training- especially for someone whose Pokèmon consisted mostly of larger ones. Of course, most Pokèmon were perfectly fine scavenging, but it would significantly cut into training time... not to mention the possibility of pissing off the local Pokèmon population. Even the little menace Riolu, who decided to treat yesterday's walk as an opportunity to scavenge, was smart enough to not get into fights with the locals over food.
That Riolu... there was something seriously wrong with it. There were Pokèmon that were just aggressive, but this wasn't it. The Emanation Pokèmon had bounced around camp, familiarizing himself with Palmer's team and even having a pretty funny moment in the river as he realized that he couldn't swim.
And then, a moment later, it was like a switch had been flipped and he went for the kill on Gabite, emanating a feeling of hatred and violence.
Freaky.
"Are those... eggs and Liechi?" Cyrus asked, disgust written all over his face. Palmer snickered. Anything even mildly spicy was more than enough to send his friend running for the hills.
"Yep."
"Those things count as a natural remedy for paralysis for how spicy they are and he just casually sprinkles them in his plate..." Cyrus grumbled, prompting Palmer to roll his eyes.
"I'm sorry if not all of us have baby palates that can't handle a bit of spice. Who were you talking to, anyways?"
"Cynthia. Apparently, this is not the first time her Riolu and Gabite get hostile with one another, so she said to just keep them away from one another." At that, Palmer grimaced.
"There's hostility between teammates, and then there's… that."
"It's definitely an interesting phenomenon. I would recommend Cynthia send him back for further studies, but somehow I doubt she will." With that, Cyrus fished out the sketch Palmer had drawn of his vision.
"I'm surprised you believe me at all," he confessed quietly, though Cyrus still heard.
"I probably wouldn't have, if I am to be completely honest, were it not that most of my team and your Milotic were able to back up your testimony. It seems that whatever happened to it is in tune with the emotional and dark-type spectrums of energies." After a moment, Cyrus looked away at the drawing of Riolu with red, glowing eyes- as opposed to its regular, dull red eyes, anyway- and black flames coating its body. "Still, Milotic?"
"Yyyyyeah… what about her?" Palmer scratched the side of his cheek. He knew this was coming up. The look on Cyrus' face intensified.
"How long have you had her?"
"...little over two months." He coughed. "She's actually the reason I managed to beat Sir Charon's gym at all."
"Palmer." The tiny downward turn of Cyrus' lips was not unnoticed by the boy. 'He's pissed.' "You mean to tell me that for the past two months, you have been wasting my time challenging me at one on one's with that joke of a Rhyhorn when you have a fully evolved, rare, and naturally powerful as can be Pokémon?"
"First of all, call my Rhyhorn a joke again and I'm gonna give my dad a real reason to fine me a billion Pokédollars." Palmer glared at Cyrus, who simply scoffed derisively. "Secondly… look. Milo's my more powerful battler, no doubt about that, but she doesn't like the attention a Milotic can get. Ever since the evolution, the way people treated her has undergone a coinflip. Every comment about her appearance just reminds her of when she'd get brushed off for being a Feebas. Pisses us both off. And well… as a Feebas, already she wasn't too interested in battles, but she pulled through when I actually needed it. That's all I can ask of her. If she's not a battle junkie like me and Rhyhorn, I'm not gonna force her to." he huffed, hoping to have gotten through somewhat to Cyrus.
Clearly not. After clearly struggling with that answer for a bit, Cyrus just scoffed. "Honestly, I almost don't want to believe all of the idiocy that you've been telling me these days. I could've accepted that you're just emotionally attached to your Rhyhorn, despite its more than lacking performance so far. But passing up a potential Infernape? Letting the Pokémon dictate when and how she fights? Not even planning your training for the next gym, just coasting along for the ride? You're a disgrace of a trainer, Palmer, riding my and Cynthia's coattails."
"Hey, you bastard! I'm every bit the trainer that you and Cynthia are, I'm just not a heartless freak regarding my Pokémon like you are! This is their journey just as much as mine, and we're gonna see it to the end side by side!" Palmer shouted back, incensed now.
"Prove it, then," Cyrus replied coolly. "One-on-one, right here, right now. My Murkrow versus your Milotic."
Palmer grimaced. "I'm not a kid you can bully around into doing what you want, Cyrus. I'm not gonna go back on what I said just-" At that moment, he could feel two of the Pokéballs on his belt shake. Rhyhorn hadn't moved, and Palmer felt in his heart the shame that his big boy was feeling at this moment.
"Sorry Gabite, but this is a man's dispute, and Cynthia asked us to train you, not fight. You'll get payback on Riolu on your own time." He muttered. "And don't worry about it, Milotic. You owe nothing to this blowhard." One of the balls stopped shaking, but Milotic's Premier Ball shook even more in response. "You truly want to show this bastard up, don't you Milo?" Another shake.
Palmer allowed a grin to split his face. "Well, well, well. It looks like it's your lucky day, after all, Cyrus. All that shit you've been slinging? It's got Milotic pretty damn ready to rumble. Hope you're ready to finally admit defeat."
"Bring it." Cyrus' smile turned predatory.
Tssssssss
Palmer blinked, before looking down at his electric stove. "Ah, my eggs! They're burning!" He shouted. At the reminder of breakfast, both of the boys' stomachs rumbled in unison.
"Ah, I mean, I can't wait to kick your shit in but you know. We've gotta feed our Pokémon and all to be in top performance, right?"
"...battling can wait for breakfast." The other muttered.
"Hey, there, buddy." I watched, bleary-eyed while still eating... an unknown substance meant for Pokèmon sustenance, as Sneasel slid up to me- quite literally skating on the ground. "So, uh, how you doing? Got all that stuff out of your system?"
I blinked. "Oh, hey. It's you again. Are you trying to sidle up to me so I don't punch you if I go berserk again?"
"Well... yes, but don't say the quiet part out loud!" The larger, humanoid weasel whined. "Us dark types gotta stick together, my guy!"
"I'm not a dark type."
"Sure, and my mum's not a Weavile." He rolled his eyes. "Look, I get it, you get a scary rep if you just go around telling people you're dark, but it's not all bad! People are gonna respect you a lot more with the tough, scary persona."
I stared at him flatly for a few seconds, before deciding that it wasn't worth it. "Sure, alright. What's up?"
"Well, I couldn't help but notice that you had honey on ya yesterday, and ya have honey today." I looked down at the jar of honey I was using to make the Pokèchow more palatable.
"Sure do. You want some." I concluded. The salivating weasel only nodded.
As my brain started to kick into gear, wondering what it was that I could ask as payment for it, I watched the two humans begin marching away from each other, with the other Pokémon watching closely. In particular, Palmer was followed by Milotic, while Murkrow sat on Cyrus' shoulder. They took the figurative ten paces, and as the two trainers stood opposite of one another, Palmer picked up a rock off the ground. "One versus one, as always! Loser is determined by either knockout, or if they are unable to battle!"
"Yes, as always. You don't need to call out the rules every single time."
"Ah, what the hell! Rock hits the ground, and the battle begins! Milotic, let's show them our bond!"
"Ready position, Murkrow." Cyrus scoffed. At that, the diminutive mafia-crow stepped off of Cyrus' shoulder and onto the impromptu battlefield.
"Well, what do you know? You think you can manage to fetch me one of Milotic's scales?"
"...damn, you're kind of a freak, you know that?"
"What?"
"Well, if you're into that sortsa stuff..."
"It's for trading." I deadpanned. "Some people have use for it, so I might as well hold onto one."
"Oh! Entrepreneurial! I like it. Sure thing, boss."
*thud*
The rock hit the ground, and the battlefield exploded in motion and noise, both trainers shouting at the same time.
"To the skies, Murkrow, evasive maneuvers!" "Start setting up, Milotic, Aqua Ring!"
Immediately, Murkrow took off, flying into the skies at high speeds. However, it seemed that Milotic had no intention of giving chase, instead wreathing herself in a pair of watery rings that levitated around her like a halo.
"Tch." Cyrus glared. "Tailwind, Murkrow! And follow up with Night Shade!"
As Murkrow performed a dancing sort of movement, I could feel the wind pick up around us, almost carrying him on his wings. As he did that, a shadowy form identical to Murkrow's but a ghostly purple in color broke off from him to divebomb Milotic.
"Blast it apart with Water Pulse!"
Shadow bird met powerful jet of water, following up into an explosion. Cyrus glared at the opposing trainer, who simply offered a cheeky grin. Cyrus wasn't used to losing… and Palmer wasn't used to winning. He shot off another command.
"Gust! Use the Tailwind to your advantage, just fire from above!"
"Milotic, take control of the wind with Twister!"
Flying met Dragon energy, and while Murkrow was presumably better suited to his own energy than Milotic was at using Dragon type, Gust was just the weaker move. Already, Murkrow was having to maneuver out of the way to avoid the Twister hitting him.
"Keep up the Night Shades, don't let her continue!"
He's stalling. He's stalling because the opposing Pokemon is both bigger and stronger, and he doesn't know what she can do, unlike Palmer who must be familiar with Murkrow.
"Take it, just keep it up!" At that, I tilt my head. Milotic is moving around, occasionally grunting when a shadow bird divebombs her, but she's not dodging. She's almost...
"Dancing. She's using Dragon Dance." I say out loud, as I see the serpentine muscles coil like a spring, and yet her movements only get faster. Upon hearing my words, the massive serpent briefly turns my way and offers a wink, before wincing as another shadow bird clocks her.
Still, she keeps up the setup, the Aqua Ring healing through most of the injuries Night Shade was able to cause. After they start piling up, however, Palmer smiles radiantly. "Recover."
And with that, all of the work Murkrow had put in to create a lead for himself goes into the trash. Especially since, as the exhaustion kicked in, the bird faltered, unable to keep the Tailwind going.
"Murkrow, close in." Cyrus glared. "Wing Attack!"
"Intercept with Dragon Tail, Milotic!"
The respective appendages of the minute bird and the gargantuan serpent glowed, with Murkrow's being a metallic sheen and Milotic's being with a cerulean flame. However, at first glance, anyone could tell that Murkrow was not going to win.
Cyrus knew it as well. As the bird closed in, he suddenly snapped to action. "Thunder Wave, now that she's standing still!"
Surprisingly, Palmer didn't panic at this. Instead, he gave a... bizzarre command. "Scald, all over yourself!"
I blinked. Milotic generated boiling hot water in her mouth before drenching herself in it. While it didn't come out violently enough to hurt concussively, and she was a water type besides, she definitely got burnt from it. As her scales took on a more angry, raw look, suddenly they glimmered in the daylight with beauty.
I blinked. "I guess in lieu of a flame orb..." I murmured to myself, watching as Milotic's ability, Marvel Scale, shone.
Not only did this prevent Murkrow's paralysis from taking hold, as the burns she'd inflicted on herself kept her body from seizing up as a result of the paralysis, but the follow-up Wing Attack landed on her to basically no effect, as the Marvel Scales protected her.
"Punish the burn, Murkrow! Assurance!" Cyrus shouted. The raven's beak glowed with dark energy, and for the first time in the fight, he drew blood. However, not disengaging was a dire mistake, as the follow-up Dragon Tail from Palmer's former command, with Milotic going as fast as she was, sent the bird Pokémon rocketing across the clearing.
"Get up, Murkrow!" Cyrus ordered. The bird, batted against a tree and looking like he saw stars, slowly tried to peel himself off the ground.
"I don't think so! Follow up with Brine, Milotic!"
"You're- DONE!" Milotic shouted, the second word followed up by a saltwater projectile erupting from her mouth that impacted the Murkrow once again against the tree, the salt stinging into its wounds.
Ouch. Yeah. Jumping over to inspect Murkrow, I shook my head, when I saw the bird twitching, but otherwise completely knocked out, spiral eyes and everything.
Cyrus' face was blank, in response to that. "You did adequately against a superior opponent. Return."
As they saw that Murkrow was out for the count, Palmer whoops in joy, jumping up into the air with a fist pump. "Let's go! We did it, Milo!"
"Palmeeeeeeeeer." Milotic suddenly let out a long whine. "You know I don't like using the Scald trick!" she cried, and I saw as the Aqua Ring worked to try and repair her burns, her scales blistered angrily in new places.
Burns were a bitch to deal with, I could tell you that much.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry." The boy rubbed his head sheepishly. "But I really didn't want that Thunder Wave to mess with your flow. Here, let me get a Pecha for that."
As the serpent dramatically deposited her head in Palmer's lap, suddenly Sneasel appeared next to me. "Scales obtained, buddy."
I blinked. "When?"
"Nearly got rolled over when she started twisting around, dancing and all that jazz. Quasi-dragon she may be, but she quasi-flattened my sorry hide! You made for a good distraction."
"You work fast."
"Yup! Now, where's my honey?" Sneasel leaned in close. "I'm feeling peckish."
"Scale first. I don't want to make two trips to and from my stash." I deadpanned. After a moment of hemming and hawing, he sighed, and palmed me a handful of pretty rainbow-colored scales. Some of them were damaged or were only partial, but two… no, three of them were intact and probably functional.
...It just occurred to me that I just asked like a complete and utter creep to remove a piece of dead skin off of someone. That's probably what he was telling me.
Suddenly moving with much more haste from all the discomfort I was feeling, I strode up to Cyrus, who was now crouched over a dazed Murkrow and applying medicine, and swiftly tapped my ball twice, returning myself.
Pokéball space was a weird place. It turned everything to data in order to store things, so I wasn't really in a body form or anything… but somehow, with practice, I'd managed to sort which items were stored in here.
The fact that the universe didn't care that I was storing Pokéballs and items inside my own Pokéball was honestly very relieving. I hadn't even considered this fact until Cyrus forcibly returned me.
"Wow, this place is a MESS!" An electronic voice hollered out from… behind me, somehow, in non-space. As I was startled, I heard a follow-up laugh before my senses returned one by one, and I ate dirt.
Rubbing my head with a groan. The air was aglow with healing energy, was the first thing I felt through my tassels.
The place I had landed in looked... peaceful. Artificial sunlight leaked into a clearing, as clearly digital trees littered a clearing around a clearwater pond that was maybe twenty feet across. Scattered around, my belongings.
After years of not even owning myself, it was odd to consider things "mine" again.
Now was one of the moments where I truly felt attuned to this new sense of aura I had; while it had always just fed me supplementary information, I now realized what the displeasing sense I felt while locked up was. The digital energy of the Pokèball. Prior, that was all I could feel- now, despite my other senses working fine and telling me I was in a clearing, the ground felt like Pokèball, and the grass felt like Pokèball, and the trees and the water and the sun.
"Can all Pokèballs do this?" I mused aloud to myself, only to jump a foot in the air as the sky took on an orange tint and the air shook with the sound of a buzzer.
Had I not gotten the gist of the place as fast as I did, I might have pissed myself as a pair of eyes with a grin manifested in the sky. As things were, I was pretty close.
"No sir, this delightful hacked Pokéball experience is brought to you by me, me, me, ME!" A cacophonous voice suddenly boomed as he harmonized with his own afterimages manifesting from the sky were decreasingly large after-images of an orange, ghostly Pokèmon that made the air taste like ozone, until a pretty small one remained in front of me. My aura picking up on nothing, because there was no life to be found in this creature.
"You're Rotom, yes?" I said in lieu of a greeting.
"Well, let me check!" The pointy ghost said. I found that in real life, his form was much less... cohesive than I'd pictured. More like a spiky, orange electric cloud with eyes.
Next to it, check boxes began appearing in thin air. "Absolutely Magnificent ️, Best ghost you'll have the pleasure to meet ️, Certified Internet Funnymon ️, and yes, indeed, Rotom ️!" It grinned. "Though I'm a bit surprised a piece of canned meat such as yourself knows about me."
Canned...? Oh. The Pokèball. I rolled my eyes. "I know some stuff."
As the Rotom extended an energy tendril that curled around in an outline of a hand, I tentatively shook it before flinching at the joy-buzzer-like sensation. Right, of course.
"Yes, you do know things, don't you?" He hummed. "Like handshakes, and human classifications for Pokèmon abilities, and, oh, lookie here!" Suddenly, the Marvel Scales I'd just put in here floated up. "The fact that humans would find these valuable. It paints an interesting picture, doesn't it?"
I didn't like where this was going. "And what does it say about you, that you also know these things?" I retorted.
"Oh, puh-lease!" Suddenly, Rotom buzzed very close to me, making me take a step back and pop out my Steel Claws. It would suck, but it was the only weapon I had against a ghost. "I am an ancient spirit that's lived inside a professor's computer for the past ten years. The bossman Dr. Charon asked me to lend a spark to Cyrus, and that's what I'll do. But you? A run-of-the-mill puppy, who supposedly spent his entire life so drugged up you shouldn't even remember what you ate yesterday for breakfast?"
"What do you want?" I grit my teeth, feeling my muscles instinctively tense up.
The ghost laughed electrically. "I want nothing. You nearly blew up your Pokèball with the amount of things you were storing so I got curious and downgraded your Pokèball to a more stable operating system, and instead found a diamond in an Aron mine." Suddenly, it disappeared again, returning to be a giant face on the horizon. "I'll be watching, Riolu~"
And with that, it disappeared. I nearly crushed the tassels hanging off of my head as I reached up to grip them to fend off the headache. "Why is my life filled with little pricks asking things about me? Arceus almighty, get a life."
"I don't have a life, I'm a ghost! Hohohoho! You're welcome, by the way!" Suddenly the inside of my Pokèball blared out again. I glared at the sky, but nothing more happened.
With a sigh, I settled down, before remembering I still needed to bring the honey to Sneasel. Checking my surroundings, I eventually noticed that the bottom of the pond was in fact a slight view of the outside of the ball- about what I'd see before if I tried to focus on my surroundings, which meant that most likely, I needed to exit through there.
...that also meant the little bastard wanted me to take a soak every time I wanted out of my ball autonomously.
"...prick," I growled, before locating one of the three jars of honey I had remaining and chucking it into the pond. It slowly sunk, until it disappeared.
Worst comes to worst, I could always hand-deliver another later and claim I forgot. But right now, I needed peace, and... I had to begrudgingly admit, even digital, that this place was leagues better than the sterile, nonexistent environment from before.
Meditation was a big thing for the more esoteric fighting type Pokèmon, right? I wanted to try that.
I needed to get down and clear my thoughts something fierce. And I needed it now.
Congratulations on all of y'all who guessed immediately that Nasir is a Shadow Pokémon. Unfortunately... doesn't seem like he's played Pokémon Conquest or Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness.
Palmer finally gets one over Cyrus! And Nasir's hoarding tendencies continue. I promise future battles won't be quite as much of a curbfest... but yeah, Milotic vs Murkrow isn't exactly a fair fight.
If you wish to support my writing, you can check me out on the place of patrons where I post five chapters ahead. Alternatively, you can always PM me in private if you wish to commission something written where we can hash out the details. Otherwise, a review is still more than enough, and I can't be thankful enough for it.
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Drink water, stay awesome. Nick of Name, out. :)