S.S. Anne II - Tournament of Legends
Thirty-two Trainers. Slate needed to be better than twenty-eight of them in order to win one of the Pokémon displayed on the wall. He took in a shaky breath and let it out, and desperately hoped he didn’t vomit from seasickness.
“Go, Vulpix!”
Vulpix appeared on the field in a blaze of light, ready and focused. Across from her a Pinsir stood, clicking its pinsirs menacingly.
“Begin!” the referee shouted.
“Vise Grip!” Slate’s opponent, a girl with a blue beret shouted. Pinsir obeyed, moving forward. Vulpix used Confuse Ray without being prompted, causing the Pinsir to smash directly into one of the field’s boundaries. Slate grinned.
The girl grinded her teeth. “Again! Pin it down!”
“Don’t let it get close!”
Vulpix shot an Ice Shard at her foe. Pinsir, still dazed by the Confuse Ray and smashing into a wall, took the attack straight between the eyes. A moment later it impacted the floor and lay there stunned.
“You can do it, Pinsir! Stand up!” the Trainer shouted. Pinsir began to struggle to its feet.
Slate never even considered if he should give it time to do so. “Finish it with Swift.” His stomach dropped as the ship pitched slightly and he began to feel queasy once more.
Vulpix’s attack knocked Pinsir back, down and out. The Trainer glared at Slate as she recalled her Pokémon.
“So it’s going to be like that, huh?” She threw out a Poké Ball. “Use Rollout, Miltank!”
“Draining Kiss!”
“Knock it out, Miltank!”
“Go Vulpix!”
Vulpix didn’t need Slate’s direction to handle Miltank as the battle continued. She would let the large Pokémon get close enough to hit her, depleting the Rollout, and then use Draining Kiss to replenish herself. She’d then pepper the Miltank with Ice Shards and Icy Winds, slowing and freezing the Pokémon as it tried to pick up its speed once more.
When Miltank tired enough to Slate’s eyes. He opened his mouth to order Vulpix to finish it, when she acted. A Confuse Ray hit the exhausted Pokémon and caused it to immediately stagger sideways. It fell over, knocked out, a moment later.
The opposing Trainer glared at Slate. “Go Maractus.”
Slate’s eyes narrowed as the unknown Pokémon appeared and engaged Vulpix.
Maractus moved in an odd way, almost as though it were dancing. Unfortunately a single Icy Wind was enough for it to slow down considerably, allowing Vulpix to win the battle with a quick Ice Shard.
“Good battle,” Slate said, offering his hand to his opponent. She gave it, and him, a look of disgust.
“I hope you get destroyed,” she spat before walking away. Slate barely spared her a glance before walking straight to the nearest trash bin and losing his breakfast in it. Fortunately it wasn’t heavy and he finished quickly. Unfortunately, the acrid taste in his mouth remained.
“That nervous?” Clair asked as she stepped next to him. Slate grunted.
“Seasick.”
She nodded, turning her gaze to the ongoing battles. “I saw your match. I want a battle.”
Slate wiped his mouth and gave her a weak grin. “Make it to the finals then.”
Clair let out a short laugh. “With how you look, you’ll be lucky to make the finals.”
“Have to give you a chance otherwise it wouldn’t be a fair fight,” Slate said. Clair gave him a dirty look. “Nice Mean Look.”
She slugged him in the shoulder, causing him to wince. Elvira joined them a moment later with a furious look on her face. “I’m out,” she spat.
Clair and Slate blinked in surprise. “What? How?” Clair asked. Elvira gestured to the field behind her.
“That bastard’s Pupitar. It tanked everything I could have thrown at it and still threw itself around without a care in the world. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?” she said.
“We can always find him later and break his legs,” Clair said.
“Or we’ll snap something else,” Elvira muttered under her breath. Despite how much it hurt, Slate laughed and a moment later Clair joined him. Elvira’s eyes glanced toward the wall projector which updated to show the next round of matches. “You’re going to miss your battle,” she said, pushing Clair to get her to turn around.
“What?” Clair asked. She turned around and spotted the updated roster. “Oh, thanks, El. Don’t choke on your vomit.”
“What was that? I can’t hear you down there at second place,” Slate shot back. If glares could kill, Slate would have been dead ten times over. Clair vanished into the crowd, her fists balled tightly and her gait aggressive. Slate glanced at the roster before pushing away from the rubbish bin.
“She’s never going to forgive you for that,” Elvira said, following Slate as he made his way to his assigned field.
“Is she the kind of person to try to kill me?”
“Probably.”
“Then I’ll worry about it when my stomach isn’t trying to do the same.”
Slate’s second match went in a similar manner as his first. His opponent sent out a Loudred which Slate’s Growlithe took down, while Vulpix tangled with an Archen, which was a Pokémon Slate hadn’t encountered before. Someone in the crowd confirmed it was resurrected from a fossil and it proved particularly troublesome for Vulpix, requiring Slate to put Growlithe back on the field to finish it with a Crunch. Their third Pokémon, a Vaporeon, necessitated Slate to pull out his final Pokémon, Flaaffy.
After a single Thunder Punch, Slate and his team moved forward to the next round. The Electric-type was buzzing with excitement at the possibility of fighting strong opponents and was raring to go. That motivation hit a wall in Slate’s next battle.
The Trainer was tall with tanned skin and a carefree smile on his face. His Surskit proved too tricky to pin down for Slate’s Growlithe, requiring him to put Vulpix on the field to deal with it. Unfortunately, the Trainer’s next Pokémon was a Medicham who succeeded in knocking Vulpix out of the battle and the tournament. Flaaffy smashed the Medicham into the ground, much to the Pokémon and the Trainer’s surprise, but that didn’t last long with the Trainer’s final Pokémon.
“Go, Marowak!”
Slate expected the neutral beige and white coloring of the native Kanto Pokémon, wielding a bone like a club. What appeared on the field shattered those expectations to dust.
A white belly and skull, the color of bleached bone, contrasted with black scales. On the Marowak’s brow a tribal pattern lay, although Slate couldn’t tell if it was a natural marking or a decoration added by the Pokémon or its Trainer. But the real clue that something unexpected was going on was the Marowak’s bone club, which burned with ghostly flames from both ends.
“Thunderbolt!” Slate barked. His hand covered his mouth a moment later as bile began to bubble up. The order was unneeded.
Flaaffy appeared to have sensed this opponent was dangerous and had immediately let off a Thunderbolt the moment the Pokémon took the field. The Marowak twirled its staff behind it before slamming it into the ground before it, leaping off the ground and releasing its weapon in the same motion.
Flaaffy’s Thunderbolt hit the bone staff. It acted as a conductor, driving the Thunderbolt into the reinforced and insulated floor beneath them, harmlessly dissipating without causing any damage. The Trainer across from Slate grinned.
“Fire Spin!”
The Marowak reclaimed its club and began to spin it, leaving behind ghostly fires hanging in the air. It then jabbed its club forward causing the ghostly flames to hover around Flaaffy, raising the heat on Slate’s side of the field.
Flaaffy bleated in defiance even as he was damaged by the flames. He charged forward, his fists alight with a Thunder Punch and he dove to strike its foe. Slate opened his mouth to call it off but choked as his sea sickness struck, and he flinched, trying to prevent the vomit from rising.
Marowak swung its bone club into Flaaffy’s exposed side, its superior reach overcoming Flaaffy’s raw fury. It almost casually swung the other end of the club up, smashing it into Flaaffy’s jaw and throwing the Electric-type back across the field to land in a heap in front of Slate.
“Bone Rush!”
Marowak darted forward, spinning its bone club with skill that spoke of hours of practice. Slate only had the time to issue Flaaffy a single move.
“Ice Punch!”
Flaaffy, struggling to stand, stopped his ascent and closed his eyes. The flames on Slate’s side of the field died out as the temperature dramatically dropped. Ice appeared and melted around Flaaffy’s hand each second. With a roar, Flaaffy punched forward as Marowak raised its club high, bringing it down to strike…
Both attacks landed. Marowak bounced backward, ice coating its limbs and weighing it down. It moaned pitifully and struggled to rise, resting on all fours as it tried to recover.
But Flaaffy’s strike was a hollow victory. Marowak’s Fire Spin had been striking and weakening the Electric-type for too long and it had finally taken its toll. When hit by the final attack Flaaffy went down and was eliminated.
Growlithe took to the field, battered and exhausted, as Marowak rose on unsteady legs. Both Pokémon were almost done, exhausted and tired from the long day of fighting. Slate and his opponent stared at each other, knowing that it was time to end this.
The two Pokémon raced toward one another, heading toward their fate. Faster and faster they went in Slate’s mind until nothing but blurs remained. The Pokémon clashed with a sickening crunch and spiraled off in two different directions as their momentum carried them. They lay on the ground.
Slate and his foe leaned forward, their eyes darting between their Pokémon to see which would rise, if either. Slate’s heart fell as Marowak stirred, weakly trying to push its arms underneath itself to lift itself up. It trembled, it shook, it pushed. Slowly it rose until it could push its knees underneath itself, using its bone club as a crutch to pull itself up. It looked up at its Trainer and while Slate couldn’t see its face he could see his foes, the grin that crossed his face.
A single star, the weakest Swift Slate had ever seen, flew through the air and hit Marowak in the side of its head. It tilted, its hand dropping from its club and it grasped naught but air as it fell. It hit the floor with a solid thud and did not move.
Across the field Growlithe lay with his legs sprawled out beneath him. He was battered and bruised, panting heavily, but his focused eyes never wavered from her foe. Only when it lay still, never to rise against him again, did he turn to Slate and weakly pant at him. The match was called in Slate’s favor.
Slate smiled as he crossed the field to kneel beside his Pokémon. He picked Growlithe up gently, hugging him close and pressing his face into Growlithe’s thick mane of fur. “Thank you. You are magnificent.”
Growlithe’s tail weakly slapped his side as he rose. Slate gave him an affectionate rub even as his opponent approached.
“Excellent battle dude!” the Trainer said. He nodded to Growlithe. “You’re a tough little cookie.”
“Likewise,” Slate said, nodding respectfully. “I’ve never seen a Marowak like that before. Where is it from?”
“Alola, dude! Like me. Skully and I have been through a lot,” the Trainer said with a grin on his face. “Anyway, congrats dude! Sucks I won’t be able to get one of those Pseudos now but that’s life. It’s all waves.”
Slate blinked. “Waves?” The mere thought of moving water made him squeeze his fists tightly in order to prevent himself from throwing up.
“They ebb and flow, dude! Hey, you don’t look too good. You alright, dude?”
Slate half-heartedly shrugged. “I’ve been seasick ever since we left port.”
The Trainer nodded. “I got you, dude. You need to focus on the horizon, it’ll keep you steady!”
Slate blinked, looking around at the interior of the ship they were in. “We’re indoors.”
“Then make your own horizon! I believe in you, dude!”
The man walked away with that little bit of advice, leaving Slate and Growlithe to stare after him in bafflement. “Make our own horizon, huh? What do you think, Growlithe? Growlithe?”
Slate looked down and saw that Growlithe was asleep in his arms. He smiled and held him closer, knowing his Pokémon deserved it. He moved to where he could see Elvira sitting next to a sullen Clair.
“So you won, huh? Bully for you,” Clair grumbled. Slate sat in the open chair beside her. It seemed she lost her match.
“Barely. I’m going to have to forfeit the next match,” Slate said with a nod to Growlithe.
“It doesn’t matter,” Elvira said. “You made it to the top four. Win or lose the next match and you’ll still be picking one of the Pseudo-legends. Bastard.”
Slate let the insult wash off his back even as he whipped his head around to stare at the projector on the wall. Elvira was right, he had made it to the top four, meaning he was one of the lucky ones able to pick which Pokémon to take for his own. He grinned and for the first time since he boarded the boat, he relaxed.
A few minutes later Slate approached the field where he was to battle against the Trainer that had eliminated Elvira. He was an older Trainer, with a bandolier full of Poké Balls hanging off his chest and a knife strapped to his thigh. He gave the sleeping Growlithe a glance before looking at Slate.
“How many Pokémon do you have left, kid?” he asked. A scar tugged at the man’s lips with every word.
Slate shrugged lightly, not moving Growlithe much so he wouldn’t disturb him. “None. He passed out after the last match, you win by default.”
The man frowned but nodded, turning to the nearby referee. “Good enough or do I need to beat up a sleeping Pokémon?”
The referee gave the older Trainer an even look. “So long as your opponent agrees to a formal withdrawal, then there is no need to continue this match.”
Slate frowned. “Will it disqualify me from the tournament prize?” He hoped not as that would be a cruel torment to subject Growlithe to.
Fortunately it seemed the tournament organizers were more humane than that. “It will not disqualify you from the prize pool. However, you will be placed fourth and thus the fourth Trainer to choose their prize, unless the third place winner also formally withdraws.”
That was unsatisfying to hear but Slate reluctantly nodded. “I withdraw.”
“Finally,” his opponent said, walking away without a backward glance. Slate gave the referee a nod before turning to rejoin his friends
“Slate!”
Slate flinched as Lucy made her presence known, appearing from seemingly nowhere. Seviper eyed Slate with a lazy gaze before ignoring him utterly.
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“Lucy.” Slate nodded in greeting. She smiled at him.
“Is your Growlithe alright?” Lucy asked. “And the rest of your Pokémon?”
Slate smiled at Lucy. He liked that she was so invested in Growlithe’s wellbeing. “He’s fine but exhausted, as are Vulpix and Flaaffy. But I won’t be advancing any further in the tournament.”
“That’s a shame. Your Pokémon fought so well! It gave me loads of ideas to try with Seviper next year when we can officially train.”
“Thank you, they work very hard and I’m proud of each of them,” Slate said with a smile. Growlithe stirred in his arms, opened one eye to look at Lucy, and then tucked his face back into Slate’s arms. “I guess he’s not ready to get up yet.”
Lucy laughed before looking at Slate expectantly. The moment stretched between them and Slate slowly became aware that this was not a normal interaction with another human being. He opened his mouth but was interrupted.
“Attention everyone! We have our finalists! If everyone could join us at Field A we can begin the final battle! The award ceremony will take place directly afterward. Please, join us!”
Slate looked back to Lucy and gave her a smile. “I should go, I wouldn’t want to waste all of my Pokémon’s hard work by not showing up. I’ll see you around, Lucy.”
Lucy stepped forward nervously, one hand slightly raised, but she lowered it a moment later and returned to her earlier position. She nodded to Slate. “You will,” she promised. They shared a smile and a moment later she was gone, with Seviper’s tail flicking at Slate dismissively.
Clair and Elvira joined Slate a moment later. “No goodbye kiss? For shame, Slate,” Elvira tutted. Slate frowned at her.
“Why would I kiss her?”
The two women shared a look before rolling their eyes simultaneously. “Well, at least you’re good at battling,” Clair said before clamping her mouth shut with her eyes wide. Elvira looked delighted and began to heckle her.
Slate grinned, but was slightly confused as to everything that just happened. With a shrug he put it from his mind to focus on the final match of the tournament, which promised to be good.
“Ladies and gentlemen! It’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Two titans clash here today and only one will be crowned champion! Who will it be?” President Stone was quite the showman, as the crowd began to scream and cheer their minds out.
Slate pushed his way through the crowd, climbing a small statue of a Nidoking to see better. Growlithe, sleepy-eyed and yawning, gave him a soft bark of greeting and shifted to his shoulders. Clair and Elvira joined him a moment later, ignoring the server who tried to remove them from their perch. The three Trainers settled in to watch and the server left in a huff.
“In this corner we have the lovely and deadly Lenora of Fuschia City! Will her poisonous touch overcome her challenger, Zacharias of Goldenrod, a jack-of-all-trades and master-of-none?”
The crowd booed and cheered in equal measure for both Trainers as they took their positions. Clair and Elvira booed both of the finalists, each having been eliminated by one, but Slate examined the Trainers, their clothes and how worn they were.
Zacharias had donned a jacket at some point, concealing most of his Poké Balls from sight. It was well-worn and patched in places, but of a reasonable quality for a Trainer who traveled heavily.
Lenora looked as though she had dressed for a ball, not a battle. Her ball gown trailed behind her and shiny jewels and pieces of metal hung off her neck and arms. In her hands was a small purse and not a single Poké Ball to be seen.
“Where are her Pokémon?” Slate asked. He ignored Clair’s vulgar response.
“Probably in her purse. I wonder if she’s a Corporate Trainer,” Elvira pondered.
“What’s a Corporate Trainer?” The referee took her place and went through the pre-battle checks.
“Corpos are pricks who have everything handed to them and never try to push the natural limits of their Pokémon,” Clair spat. Slate turned to Elvira for a more reasonable answer but she only frowned and nodded.
“I’ve heard stories about a few. They leave their Pokémon at Daycares to train them up, use every TM they can get their hands on, and there are even rumors of them using Rare Candies on their Pokémon. All very expensive but they’re sponsored by corporations in exchange for advertising their brands. I had a few offers before I started.”
Clair’s jaw dropped. “You almost became a corpo?”
Elvira shoved Clair’s leg. “Like you’re one to talk, I know for a fact everyone from your family has been approached.”
“Yeah but that’s because we’re amazing. Your family…” Clair trailed off.
“My family, what?” Elvira said with ice in her tone and fury in her eyes.
“Argue later. So why would a Corporate Trainer be here? Advertising?” Slate asked.
“Probably. They also earn a commission on any valuable Pokémon they win in tournaments or catch. They’re never hurting for money, that’s for sure,” Elvira explained.
Slate could see what Elvira meant. Nothing about Lenora spoke of a woman who spent any amount of time in the wilderness. Even from here Slate could see a softness to her skin and muscles that spoke of little physical effort on her part.
In a vibrant contrast, Zacharias was lean with hard muscles, a few scars scattered here and there on his exposed flesh. His clothes, while cared for, were not expensive and were the definition of practical. Lenora’s were not.
The match began. Zacharias sent out his Pupitar, while Lenora’s Skrelp appeared awkwardly across from it, resting on its tailfin. The referee lowered their hand and all hell broke loose.
“Acid, Water Pulse!”
“Rock Throw, Iron Defense, Rock Slide!”
Both Trainers began to rattle off orders, barely taking a breath as they ordered their Pokémon to attack. Both Pokémon were highly trained, obeying instantly as they performed to their Trainer’s specification. It was beautifully chaotic as the elements of the world were torn asunder and manipulated by the two Pokémon.
“Elvira, does your Pokédex record audio and video?” Slate asked.
Elvira didn’t take her eyes off the battle in front of them. “Yeah, why?”
“Give it,” Slate said, holding out his hand. Elvira grumbled but handed it over.
It took a moment for Slate to navigate the menus and pull up the recording app. He held it steady and took a moment to gather his thoughts. Skrelp, greatly weakened on land, was nonetheless hitting Pupitar with attacks, its accuracy far better than Pupitar’s limited evasion. Yet Zacharias insisted on going on the attack, not using the true strength of his Pokémon to his advantage.
Slate clicked record on the Pokédex and held it steady. He also began to dictate to the Pokédex. “Pupitar’s ability to evade is subpar to Skrelp’s accuracy. The Trainer has positioned his Pokémon in an attacking pattern, with an attack, a modifying move, followed by another attack. There does not appear to be any pattern to the moves chosen, merely throwing everything he can out and seeing what sticks.”
“Are you going to speak through the whole match?” Clair asked. “Because if so, I’m going to move.”
“No you’re not,” Elvira said. She was in the way after all. “Just ignore him if it bothers you.”
“He’s talking, of course it’s annoying.”
“Skrelp’s Trainer is commanding in a similar but modified pattern. She began with a double attack, possibly to dominate the battlefield from the start, but has now switched to alternating attacks and modifier moves. The field is now thick with Smokescreen but I believe this to be a set up,” Slate dictated. He paused, checking the recording, before continuing.
“Skrelp’s Trainer has also trained, or had their Pokémon trained, to overcome their physical limitations. Skrelp can only remain out of water for a short time as they find the dry air unpleasant, like most Water-types. However, we can see Skrelp has been trained to ignore this discomfort, including teaching it the rudimentary ability of standing and moving on its tailfin.”
“That is pretty out there. I can’t imagine how long that took to train,” Elvira muttered. Suddenly the field flashed as Pupitar unleashed a Hyper Beam. It speared through the Smokescreen before it hit the Psychic-barrier, dissipating. The smoke cleared a moment later and Slate began to speak once more.
“Skrelp evaded the Hyper Beam. Possibly through Agility, Double Team, or some other technique. Will need to review footage post battle. In the post attack weakness caused by the Hyper Beam, Skrelp used multiple Water Guns in rapid succession on Pupitar, knocking it out. Ghost-types everywhere are avenged.”
“Hey!” Elvira tried to push Slate off the statue but failed.
Zacharias returned his Pupitar before releasing a new Pokémon on the field, an avian with green, brown, and white feathers. Slate frowned as the two Pokémon engaged in battle.
“Elvira, can I scan while recording?” Slate asked. Elvira thought for a second.
“Uh, top right dropdown menu, hit the weird square.”
“There are two weird squares.”
“Does one have a circle?”
“Yes.”
“That one.”
The screen split and pulled up the information about the new Pokémon, revealing it to be a Dartix, a Grass and Flying-type. Even as Slate read, the Dartix made quick work of the grounded Skrelp, outspeeding it by a considerable margin and hitting it with a Razor Leaf.
Lenora seemed unbothered by the knockout and recalled her Pokémon. Now focused, Slate could see how the purse was modified, with a rotating section that held Poké Balls on one end. She spun it before hitting a button that caused one of the Poké Balls to release an Ivysaur.
“Interesting purse. Expensive and impractical in current form. Might be adaptable to other configurations and bags for Trainer use,” Slate said.
“Assuming whatever corporation that gave it to her doesn’t sue you for copyright infringement,” Clair said. Slate nodded reluctantly.
“Note to self, hire a lawyer.” His comment made Clair and Elvira laugh and he joined them for a quick moment. “Wait, what?”
Lenora’s Ivysaur had used Sunny Day to fill the area with sunlight. Zacharias, believing this to be a set up move to heal, wasted no time in ordering his Pokémon to use Synthesis to recover what damage it had sustained thus far. The second Dartix stopped moving, Lenora’s Ivysaur released a perfectly aimed Solar Beam in its face. And then another. And then a third without hesitating.
The rapid Solar Beams weakened the Dartix greatly, enabling Ivysaur to wrap it up with its vines. Unable to escape or maneuver, Dartix was helpless as Ivysaur’s bulb glowed once more to unleash another Solar Beam.
Which was when Zacharias withdrew his Pokémon with an angry scowl on his face. “I withdraw Dartrix,” he spat. The referee nodded and announced it to the crowd.
“Why did he do that?” Clair asked.
“The same reason why I forfeited my battle against him. My Pokémon would not have been able to fight or win. Inflicting unnecessary pain on your Pokémon is a losing strategy,” Slate said, rubbing Growlithe’s head. He weakly thumped Slate’s side with his tail.
“You still could have tried,” Clair said. Slate shook his head even as Zacharias sent out a Rockruff.
“Not at Growlithe’s expense. Or any of my Pokémon. Not when the results of the battle were certain. Like this one.”
“What do you mean? Zacharias could still win with his last Pokémon,” Elvira chimed in.
“Possibly but not likely. Both Trainers favor constant and overwhelming attacks, drowning their opponents in numbers. But Zacharias prefers to use area-of-effect moves, which isn’t surprising considering he most likely trains his Pokémon in the wilderness. You need to be able to hit large areas out there.”
Slate nodded to Lenora whose Ivysaur was battling a Rockruff. “While similar, Lenora and her Pokémon are focused on pinpoint accurate strikes. Considering they most likely only fight in tournaments or one on one battles? They have far more experience and skill in this arena. Lenora’s victory isn’t a matter of if but when.”
A Wooper replaced Ivysaur a moment later, although it didn’t look like any Wooper Slate had ever seen. It almost looked as though it had been dipped in mud before being released. Elvira’s Pokédex immediately scanned the Pokémon and reported its findings, displaying that the Wooper was a type-variant from Paldea.
The match ended quickly after that. Rockruff, already battered from its battle against Ivysaur, wasn't able to pin Wooper down. Wooper, fresh and with superior tactics, emerged the victor with a well placed Mud Shot.
Slate shut down Elvira’s Pokédex even as the crowd around them cheered for the match's conclusion. Zacharais shook Lenora’s hand with a tight jaw but seemed resigned to his loss. A gap in the crowd appeared underneath the statue.
“If I could have a copy of that footage later, Elvira? I’ll owe you one. I’ll meet up with you guys later,” Slate said, falling to the floor. He stumbled as the rocking of the boat robbed him of his balance. Growlithe fell with a dramatically pitiful moan and Slate scooped him back up. Up above Clair and Elvira laughed at him.
“I will collect! Your first Ghost-type is mine!”
“Try not to throw up on stage!” Clair called after him. He walked away with his head held as high as one could when the world was rocking around him.
Slate approached the stage where he presented his Trainer ID to one of the security personnel blocking the staircase. “I placed fourth,” he said by way of explanation.
The man took it while his Machoke crossed his thickly muscled arms with a superior look on his face. A moment later Slate’s Trainer ID was handed back and the man and his Pokémon moved to the side, allowing Slate to pass.
The other winners were already in place, standing on a podium that elevated them above them all. Slate was gestured to stand beside the podium by an aide and he did so, wishing the world would stop moving.
President Devon took his place before them, facing the crowd that gathered to watch the winners choose their prizes. Slate could just see Clair and Elvira grinning at him from the crowd, their Pokédex’s aimed at him and he gave them a scowl. He would not throw up.
He tried to breathe easily. He didn’t have an issue while he was on the statue, watching the battle. The Trainer Slate faced, the one who wouldn’t stop saying dude, said to keep his eye on the horizon. Maybe he meant to look into the distance and focus on something there. Slate looked to the far side of the audience and awkwardly made eye contact with a middle aged woman. This did not help his nausea.
President Stone approached the winners, handing out trophies. Slate took his small trophy with an almost as equally small smirk; at least it wouldn’t take up much room in his backpack. The trophies for the other winners steadily increased in size, starting from the size of a small child to the size of a fully grown adult.
Lenora didn’t seem to mind the large trophy, posing with it for the pleasure of the audience and cameras. This went on for several minutes until the audience’s applause died down and everyone pressed forward eagerly to see what Pokémon they were going to choose.
A small podium rose from the stage, a covered dome that captured the attention of everyone in the room. A hush fell over the crowd and they leaned forward eagerly as the dome slid back, revealing six Ultra Balls, gleaming in the light. President Stone stepped forward.
“As the first place winner, would you please choose first, Lenora?” President Stone said, bowing to the woman.
She strutted off of the podium, taking her place before the podium. From Slate’s position he could see small placards before each Ultra Ball but he couldn’t see what was written on them.
Lenora walked around the Ultra Balls, dragging a long finger around the edge of the podium. She’d occasionally pause, glancing back at the other winners, giving a little smirk at each of them in turn. After a full circuit, she made her choice.
Much to the disappointment of the crowd, Lenora did not release the Pokémon. Instead she glided back to the podium and took it once more, rolling the Ultra Ball around on long fingers, a satisfied smile on her face.
“A bold choice for a bold lady,” President Stone said with a laugh. He gestured for Zacharias to step forward. “And now for our second place winner, Zacharias!”
The tall Trainer stepped forward without making a show of it. His eyes darted from one Ultra Ball to the next, reading the placards quickly. He made his choice, snagging an Ultra Ball before returning to the podium, ignoring the crowd entirely. He too chose not to reveal which Pokémon he picked.
President Stone didn’t seem to mind Zacharias’ behavior, merely clapping politely with the rest of the crowd. “Next up we have our third place winner from Kalos! Please give it up for Fiona!”
Fiona waved to the crowd as she stepped forward. She paid special attention to the loudest cheering section of the audience which she apparently knew, before moving to the podium to examine the remaining Pokémon. Her smile only grew as she plucked an Ultra Ball from the remaining four, before stepping back to her place on the podium.
President Stone gave her a warm smile before turning to the crowd. Slate felt his stomach twist with uncertainty, knowing that it was now his turn. Growlithe nudged him from his shoulders, giving him a small huff in an effort to comfort him. He relaxed, marginally, but enough to pay attention to President Stone.
“A man from your very own Kanto and our final winner this evening. Please give it up for Slate!”
Slate’s heart thundered in his chest, almost deafening him as he stepped forward. He tried to wave, to give a warm smile to the crowd, but it felt off to him, wrong somehow. With each step toward the podium the ache in his belly increased until he finally stood before the final three Ultra Balls.
His eyes darted between them, wondering, pondering, thinking; which Pokémon? Each would be powerful in their own right, each would be a welcome addition to his team. But his eyes flicked between each one, he already knew his answer, he knew it the moment Lucy told him which Pokémon would be available for this tournament. Luck favored him.
His hand was steady as it reached down and wrapped around his selection. The Ultra Ball was cool to the touch but Slate could almost imagine the Pokémon inside feeling his touch. The Ultra Ball shook slightly as if to reassure him that it was pleased.
Slate didn’t remember taking his place by the podium. He blinked and suddenly he was there, with President Stone standing on the opposite side.
“Well there we have it! Our winners have chosen their prize! And now it’s time for you all to see what they have won! Trainers! Are you ready?”
“Of course.”
“Yes.”
“You bet!”
“Always.”
President Stone grinned at them and then the crowd. “Then reveal your Pokémon!”
Almost in perfect unison, all four Trainers raised their new Pokémon and released them in a blaze of light. The crowd roared.
----------------------------------------
Time Tracker:
Days passed in Chapter: 0
Total Days: 185
Trainer Card:
Name: Slate
Occupation: Trainer, Healer, Trainee Joy, Field Healer, Saffron Gym Trainer (Former)
Ambitions:
* To find his long lost Starter
* To become a Generalist Master, a Master of all Types
Badges: Boulder(II), Cascade(II), Thunder(II), Marsh(III), Rainbow(II), Graystone(I)
Trophies: Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament Qualifier (3rd), Inter-Regional Tournament Finals (4th)
Carry Limit: 9/14
Key items: Aron’s Rock
Pokémon: 9
Name: Scyther (F)
Type: Bug/Flying
Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy, Silver Wind, Agility, Roost, Light Screen, Double Team, Bug Buzz
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure
Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)
Type: Ice
Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray, Draining Kiss, Icy Wind, Mist, Aurora Veil, Freeze Dry
Core Moves: Swift, Rest, Detect, Endure
Name: Lairon (M)
Type: Steel/Rock
Potential Moves: Dragon Rush, Iron Defense, Rock Polish, Heavy Slam, Stone Edge, Dig
Core Moves: Rest, Protect, Swift, Detect, Endure
Name: Chansey (F) (Non-Combatant)
Type: Normal
Potential Moves: Seismic Toss, Life Dew, Drain Punch, Calm Mind, Gravity, Heal Pulse, Soft-Boiled, Trailblaze
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure
Name: Flaaffy (M)
Type: Electric
Potential Moves: Charge, Thunderbolt, Cotton Guard, Thunder Punch, Ice Punch
Core Moves: Rest, Endure, Swift, Protect
Name: Machoke (F)
Type: Fighting
Potential Moves: Counter, Revenge, Poison Jab, Snore, Close Combat, Bulk Up
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Substitute, Endure, Protect
Name: Bulbasaur (F)
Type: Grass/Poison
Potential Moves: Ingrain, Sludge Bomb, Petal Blizzard, Trailblaze, Petal Dance, Leech Seed, Growth
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Substitute, Protect
Name: Growlithe (M)
Type: Fire
Potential Moves: Morning Sun, Crunch, Dig, Flamethrower
Core Moves: Rest, Endure, Swift
Name: ?
Type: ?
Potential Moves: ?
Core Moves: ?