Fish 4.2

Aaron Fulan

Petalburg City

My team and I went about our morning ritual with cheer and vigor. With teammates like Jeanne and Durvasa, even Artoria couldn't put off starting the day forever.

The beauty of rising so early was that the pokemon center's backyard and training fields were completely deserted. After stretching and taking a few laps around the field, we returned inside to gorge on the center's free supply of eggs. Today, breakfast was a diner-style omelet with tomatoes, peppers, and a diced berry I couldn't name off the cuff but had a savory, slightly smoky taste when sauteed.

We marched back outside just as people began to wake up. They wouldn't be training this early so we were free to get back to our routine.

"Kick it slow for half an hour to digest," I told them. I led them into a series of stretches that they followed as much as their different physiologies allowed. It was also a great way to practice breathing. The breath was one of the few constants vital to every martial art after all. Leaning to pace themselves would go a long way towards developing their own combat styles.

After thirty minutes of this, I split them apart to go their own ways.

Jeanne was trying to improve her speed and develop a close-range variant of Electro Ball. Though the contest did ultimately end in our victory, Ember the combusken made it plain to us that she needed better close-range options than "shock everything and hope for the best." Cotton Spore was good, but it just wasn't pulling as much weight as it would coming from say, a whimsicott.

Hence the Rasengan-clone. It worked well enough in the contest, but it was like a bomb that exploded in all directions. The kickback was manageable because she was an electric type and it was her own electricity, but I didn't want her losing her footing because she got shoved back by her own attack. To that end, her goal was a ball of condensed electric aura that detonated like a shaped charge.

"Flaaf," she groaned as she held an orb of light in her hand. It shrank before my eyes as she did her best to compress it.

"Good, now shape it into a funnel. Imagine a little cyclone that explodes into your opponent," I encouraged.

"Flaaffy…" The ball in her hand turned vaguely oblong, then slightly conic, before finally blowing up in her face. It sent her stumbling back two steps. Jeanne fell on her haunches and looked up at me with a pout. "Flaa…"

"Hey, none of that. You did shape it a little bit, right? That's a good start."

"Flaaf?"

I reached down and flicked her ear. "I do think so. Keep at it, okay?"

"Flaaf."

Across the field, Artoria sat cross-legged on a platform of psychic energy. She cradled the gardevoirite in her hands. She was using it as a meditation aid. Since it exuded both psychic and fairy auras, we hoped that it could teach her to harness the latter with enough time and familiarity. The way she held it reminded me of a stereotypical fortune teller and her crystal ball, or of children putting balloons in their shirts pretending to be pregnant.

'It's outside my dress!' she protested, having picked up my stray thoughts.

'It is. I was just thinking about how big your precious is compared to you,' I replied. It sat about as large as a beachball on her lap.

'Can you please stop calling it "my precious?"'

'Fine, fine, the Gollum joke is getting a bit stale anyway. Any luck so far?'

'A little. Fairy aura is… elusive. It is in its nature, and yet I find myself frustrated with my continued failure.'

'It takes time.'

'Yes, but I have been doing this for months, ever since we began our journey.'

'You have, but you've only had the gardevoirite for a fraction of that time. And you've improved.'

She huffed. A pale, pink glow emanated from the gardevoirite. I felt her focus a little harder and the glow suffused her torso in a mist-like layer. 'This is the fruit of my labors,' she said bitterly. 'When I try to shape the mist in any way…' I felt her focus her mind again. She reached out, grasped the mist, and then… The mist popped like soap bubbles, vanishing back to wherever it came from.

I thought about what she just showed me. 'What is fairy aura, Artoria?'

'It is elusive and mysterious. It embodies the unknown aspects of the world and requires a personality that fully contradicts my own worldview.'

'Right. That's what Alice said too.'

'Indeed. My lady mother suggested that I am trying too hard, but how can I be trying too hard when I've yet to succeed? I am not trying hard enough!'

I rolled my eyes. It was such an Artoria thing to think. I'd planned to get to Durvasa, but I glanced over and he was fine. He had lifted one section of the aluminum bleachers and crawled beneath its support and was currently using it as a bench press. He looked mildly disappointed; those things were made to be as light as possible after all.

I took a seat in front of Artoria. With her hovering, she sat at about eye-level with me. I then placed a hand on the gardevoirite. 'I think Alice meant exactly that: You're trying too hard.'

'That makes no-'

I reached out and placed a finger on her lips. Sure she wasn't vocalizing, but it had the same effect. 'Shh. Listen. Fairy aura is mystery made manifest, right? I think those were her exact words. Maybe that's the problem. It's not meant to be grabbed. Or held. Or mastered. Or controlled. The more you try to wrap your figurative fingers around it, the more elusive it becomes, like a child grasping at the morning mist.'

'Then how am I to succeed? How does any pokemon succeed?'

'It's possible, we know it is. So, do what your mother says and let go. Don't focus on trying to master it. Instead, let's do the opposite. Do you master moonlight? Or do you lie beneath on a warm summer night and simply enjoy being in its presence?'

'That may be, but I still do not see how I can use any moves if all I do is soak in the light.'

I shrugged apologetically. 'I'm sorry, Artoria. I really don't know. Just let go and simply be. Trust Alice. She's… problematic… but she is your mother and she does mean you well.'

'Very well, my lord,' she acquiesced. I could tell she'd rather be running through her sword forms but she'd do this for me.

'Maybe we should do this as a cooldown exercise? Do it as a way to relax. Reflect on your day.'

'Much as I would beneath the moonlight…'

'Exactly.'

'I shall. Thank you for your guidance,' she said with a bow. She stood and handed over the mega stone so I could place it in a hammerspace bag I always carried on my person. 'For now, I shall redo my stretches before running suicides. Will we go shopping for weights today, my liege?'

'We will, thanks for reminding me.'

I parted with Artoria, leaving her in a considerably better mood. Not great, still frustrated, but less about to tear her hair out. I was about to make my way to Durvasa when the door to the pokemon center opened, revealing Frankie the watermelon.

The effeminate meteorologist was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with a thick white jacket reminiscent of a labcoat to ward off the ocean breeze. In his hands, he carried a volleyball-sized contraption that looked to be a camera of some sort. Over his right shoulder floated a cloud with eyes… and testicles…

'Pffttt, please stop making me laugh,' Artoria chided. She almost slipped on the turn and nearly skidded on her face. 'Castform do not have male genitalia.'

'And how would you know? They're right there. Gives new meaning to "cloud watching," eh?'

'Your regressed age has likewise deteriorated your sense of humor, my lord.'

I laughed. Flustering Artoria was always good business. 'I'll have you know, I was a dirty old man before death too. Besides, you laughed so you're just as bad as me beyond all that stuffy knight-ness.'

'"Knight-ness" is not a word. And I laughed out of shock. I do not find juvenile jokes about intercourse humorous,' she said primly.

'Ooh, big words.' I raised a hand to Frankie in greeting. "Morning, what're you doing out?"

He slapped the ball in his hands. "Sorry if I've disturbed your training, Aaron. I'll only be out here for a short while if you don't mind. Then I'm going back inside. It's a little chilly in the morning."

"You wouldn't need that coat if you worked out with us."

"Bah, you're an anomaly among trainers too. Not many humans train directly with their pokemon."

"They should. It's a great way to earn a pokemon's respect."

"Maybe."

"So what are you doing with that ball?"

He held it out for me to see. What I first thought was a camera lens actually turned out to be some sort of sensor protected by plexiglass. There was a sealed compartment on top of the sphere that looked like it'd open outward. "Oh, this? This is my job, the reason I'm out here for the Weather Institute. You see, the Weather Institute is the home of the Hoenn Meteorological Academy. We partner with universities and observatories all around the region to gather data on weather patterns so we can create a log of our changing climate."

I nodded along. I didn't realize that was a thing, but it made sense in hindsight. Humans weren't major contributors to pollution or climate change on a global scale in this world because respect for super-powerful wildlife was common sense, but that didn't mean climate change didn't happen. If anything, there was a real possibility that climate change happened faster thanks to the actions of pokemon.

'There is also the weather trio to consider, my lord,' Artoria pointed out. 'Could it be that some in the League's government wish to use climate logs to predict the coming of Groudon or Kyogre before they fully rouse themselves?'

'It's a possibility. In the games, Tabitha or Shelly will raid the Weather Institute to learn more about Kyogre or Groudon. Presumably, they received the location of the Seafloor Cavern from these guys.'

"So what kind of data are you gathering?" I asked. I was honestly curious now.

He pulled a cord attached to his sphere that popped the lid off the top. A weather balloon emerged like a deflated airbag. "Lots of things. Air pressure, wind speed, direction, humidity, of course temperature and building fronts if that's relevant. I need to do this for seven days, twice a day to get a good sample size. Then, if the data indicates conditions strayed too far from the norm, I might have to send up Blinky here to get more precise measurements, maybe even nudge the weather a bit while I wait for more instructions from the Institute."

"Huh. So you predict hurricanes and stuff?"

"Well, not me specifically, but yes. For example, there was a tropical storm two years back that caused a lot of flooding in Sootopolis. Leader Wallace and the mayor received advance warning from the researcher there about the coming storm. The Weather Institute sent out a team of researchers and rangers with castform to stall the storm's trajectory and buy enough time for the city to evacuate."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"That sounds like important work. No storms in Petalburg though?"

"Probably not," he said sheepishly. "I'm just an assistant field researcher so I don't get potentially dangerous assignments like that."

"But why not just have the castform disperse the storm altogether? Wouldn't that save the people and pokemon a lot of grief?"

"You'd think so, but that's because you don't know the sheer energy contained in a single thundercloud. Keeping it at bay takes immense power, even for a whole cloud of castform."

I nodded. "Huh, I didn't think the Weather Institute did so much. Thanks for teaching me, Frankie."

"No problem." He did something with his pokenav that caused the balloon to begin inflating itself. Then, with the press of a button, it began to float away. "It's really neat. Important work, but also with plenty of downtime. When the drone transmits data to my pokenav, I'm going to have to run analysis before cleaning it up and filing it away with the Institute's data center, but until then, the day is mine."

"Living the dream life, huh? Well, I'm going to go work with Durvasa, my mankey, if you don't mind. I figure by now, he's about tired himself out enough to really listen to instructions."

"You're taking on Norman, right?"

"I am."

"Good luck. I'd offer to spar with you, but Blinky is only a normal type at rest."

"I know. They change forms with the weather, right? Take care, Frankie," I waved before heading over to Durvasa. The cunning mankey had dropped the bleachers after who knows how many reps, instead going through a few basic karate strikes I showed him.

Whereas Artoria and Jeanne were building on what they already knew, Durvasa was busy trying to create a functional fighting style of his own. I tried to give him as much one on one time as possible. Not only was he the newest and weakest of my team, as a fighting type, he'd be the lynchpin of my battle against Norman. That promise of a good fight motivated him just as much as any reward I could give.

Unfortunately, I quickly came to understand why mankey were considered the "least" of Indigo's indigenous fighting types: Unlike other fighting type species, they knew nothing and started from a blank slate.

Machop knew karate. Or rather, in this world, karate itself was a martial art that came about from copying the movements of the machop line. And when they evolved, machamp intuitively picked up submission holds, leveraging their immense strength and extra pair of limbs.

The hitmon-family naturally had their own preferred fighting styles. Each excelled at their respective fighting style and a tyrogue seemed to gravitate towards one style or another almost inexplicably.

The mankey line… had scratches and berserk rage. Poliwrath weren't much better in the way of martial technique, but at least they came with a secondary typing and ridiculous stamina that let them swim across the ocean blue for weeks without rest.

It was then obvious to me why mankey were the least popular: When put in the hands of a normal trainer with zero martial arts knowledge, a mankey would naturally gravitate towards what it knew best, which wasn't a martial art at all. Training techniques was hard, especially since there wasn't a readily available TM for "badass MMA ." Even if such a thing existed, it'd probably be way too expensive for a normal trainer.

I… I tried my best, but even I had to acknowledge my own shortcomings. I was a swordsman, not a karateka. Or muay thai boxer. Or wrestler. I knew the basics of karate by osmosis and HEMA did have a little bit of grappling thrown in just in case you lost your weapon, but the things I could teach Durvasa were woefully limited.

I showed off what little I knew of karate. Then, I performed the kendo kihon waza, first with a bokken, then without, exchanging sword swings and thrusts with punches and chops. The two martial arts did have a reasonable amount of overlap. It wasn't nothing, Durvasas did get something out of it, but he quickly absorbed everything I knew about hand to hand fighting.

In the end, I had to look up martial arts demonstrations and play them back for Durvasa on the pokenav. The League battleboard was a wonderful thing, even if it left me feeling like a mall ninja looking up how to do the hand signs for the Chidori or something. Cringe-inducing memories aside, I worked side by side with Durvasa. I figured he could use the solidarity, and if nothing else, maybe I could learn a bit more about aura on the physical side of things by watching Elite Bruno and his machamp give demos.

X

Frankie stuck around a short while to let his pokemon get some air. Alongside the castform and his roserade, his starter and the reason he was broke, he also had a pelipper and glalie. He said he wasn't much of a battler, but his pokemon seemed fairly strong in their own right. I figured they got plenty of experience fighting off wild pokemon and the occasional overeager trainer while traveling from place to place for the Weather Institute.

An hour or two later, the researcher recalled his pokemon and went inside, saying it was Peppy the pelipper's turn to decide what they did with their leisure time. He left me his number and said he'd be happy to return my favor by teaching my pokemon Hail, Snowscape, Rain Dance, or Sunny Day in exchange one day.

I eventually lost steam. Even if I was just doing katas, there was only so much I could do as a human. While I rested, I watched over Durvasa and scheduled our gym battle online. Like with Wattson, there was a three day wait until our match.

By mid-morning, even a sleepy pokemon center like Petalburg began to fill up and I couldn't monopolize all that space anymore. As far as I could tell, these were mostly locals, either hobbyist fishermen returning from early-morning angling or trainers who'd simply allowed themselves to sleep in a bit.

"Hey kid," one of the newcomers called. He was a middle-aged man with an easygoing smile on his face and a deep tan from years living next to the beach. A straw hat and a Hawaiian (Alolan?) shirt complemented his look, fitting so perfectly I could almost believe he was born with them. "How's about a friendly battle?"

I held out a hand for him to shake. "Hello, my name is Aaron. What's yours, mister?"

"Aww, shucks. Larry, but don't mind none of that 'mister' business."

"Hmm, I only have one badge. I doubt my team will be much of a challenge for you."

"That's perfect. Y'see, I give rides to all them tourists with my lapras and found myself a corsola the other day. Now, little fella's not strong enough to tangle with my lapras or blastoise, so I figured I'd come here and hang out with the young'uns, see if I can give her some experience."

I nodded and looked around at my pokemon. All three of them perked up with interest, reminding me of children sitting up straight in class so they could get called on first. "Well, if she's a new capture, Artoria's out. She's my starter and a teleporting kirlia is probably not a good introduction to battling."

"Yup, that sounds about right. That flaaffy also yours? 'Cause that's also no good. An electric type shouldn't be her first battle either."

"Agreed. Which leaves Durvasa. A fighting type going to be okay?"

"Ehh, it should be fine. I reckon it won't be as big a shock as an electric type. Heh, get it?"

What was it with middle-aged men and puns? Was it just a dad thing? Was he even a dad or did it just come with age? I shook my head in exasperation and called over my mankey. "Come here, bud. Wanna try out what you've been practicing on a live target?"

"Mankey!" he shrieked in affirmation. He seemed confident, maybe too confident for someone who had zero clue what a corsola was. Jeanne and Artoria looked down for a moment before Artoria nudged Jeanne towards the sidelines of one of the practice fields, ready to cheer their teammate on.

Truthfully, I didn't know much about the coral pokemon either. They weren't very popular among fans of the game because they were disgustingly slow and lacked offensive power. They had a reliable recovery option, but didn't have the HP stats to take advantage of it. Competitively, they were more or less duds or gimmicks. I vaguely remembered Misty having one in the anime and Spike Cannon being something of a signature move for it for a while, but that wasn't saying much.

We lined up on opposite sides of the practice fields. As Larry let out his corsola, I spoke to Durvasa. "Alright, listen up, Durvasa. Corsola are very slow, but they can throw out a lot of ranged attacks in a short time. Think of her like Jeanne, but slower and with more variety to her attacks."

"Man," he nodded. He was all but vibrating with eager anticipation now. I couldn't fault him. This was our first trainer battle and I had to admit I was thrilled too.

"Spike Cannon. Water Gun. Bubble Beam and Rock Blast probably," I counted off. "She might look pink, but she's still a rock type with some decent defenses. If we're extra unlucky, she'll be able to use Recover. That means Fury Swipes isn't going to cut it. We need Karate Chop. Low Kick. Real fighting type moves. Think you can do that?"

"Man… Mankey-man."

"Good."

"You ready, Aaron?" Larry called. "Don't think you're the only one who can list off your opponent's moves."

"Of course not. No way you've never seen a mankey before."

"We'll begin off countdown then."

"Three," I began the count.

"Two," Larry said.

"One!" we shouted as one.

Durvasa rushed forward, trying to close the gap as quickly as possible. Larry's corsola must have expected it because her branches began to glow white before a barrage of spikes released towards my pokemon.

I felt no need to tell Durvasa to dodge; he wasn't an idiot. Neither of us trainers commented as they quickly fell into an equilibrium. Durvasa tried to rush forward and Larry's corsola kept him at bay with a combination of Water Gun and Spike Cannon. She hadn't landed a hit yet, but there were some narrow misses.

I pondered that. Durvasa hadn't been training with us long, but he did have a few sessions of dodging practice with Jeanne and the corsola wasn't as quick on the draw.

I felt a smile threaten to split my face but suppressed it. The tricksy little fucker was playing her. I told him that corsola were ranged fighters so he was trying to wear her out, maybe get her used to a slower pace before gunning the gas suddenly. With only a bit of forewarning, he'd figured out a good way to close the gap without any ranged options of his own.

I decided to follow his plan. Adding a bit of frustration to my voice, I ordered, "Slow down a bit. Focus Energy and then break through!"

"Man?" he looked back in askance. Why the hell would I tell him to slow down? The very first thing I had him do was to learn to use Focus Energy while in motion. He ran through a decent chunk of Petalburg Woods with a soup pot full of rocks strapped to his back while doing this exact thing. Question was whether he'd hear what I was really saying.

"Now, corsola! Let's show him we can play that game too! Aqua Ring!" Larry shouted.

His corsola responded with a trilling, chirping noise that reminded me both of birds and of waves flowing through rock formations. A blue light began to surround her as she summoned three orbs of water. Slowly, they began to orbit her and fill her with cool, nourishing energy.

I could tell the moment Durvasa understood my order. His snout split with a wicked grin as he suddenly packed on the speed. His hands began to glow with a white aura as he made his approach.

Both trainer and corsola widened their eyes in shock. "Give up the Aqua Ring. Shoot him down!" Larry yelled.

"Corsola!" his pokemon replied, obeying with a hasty barrage of Spike Cannon.

It wasn't fast enough. The pokemon that had been just barely dodging her attacks suddenly nearly doubled in speed, throwing off her aim. By the time she course-corrected, he was on her.

"Now, let's put those lessons to work!" I called. "Karate Chop!"

"Man-key!" he shrieked, bringing his paw down in a strike that dug her an inch into the dirt. By sheer ferocity, he was able to take a second swing before his opponent blasted him out of melee range with a desperate Water Gun.

He skidded to a stop with a grunt of pain.

"You good, Durvasa?"

"Man!" The tiny terror was better than good; he looked downright murderous.

"Recover!" Larry called. A white light began to suffuse the corsola as she tried to heal from the mauling Durvasa gave her.

"Encore!" I shouted back with an eager grin. Durvasa could play his tricks, but this was what I was really after.

He looked confused, but complied anyway.

Good, because Recover was one of those moves I was exposed to often. It wasn't out of the question for psychic types to know the move. Alakazam, starmie, and even gardevoir could learn the move, albeit with a fair bit of effort and hardship.

As with most things, Recover did not work like the games. Its potency varied a great deal based on experience, the species of pokemon using the move, and even the pokemon's mindset; it didn't always heal a flat fifty percent of the pokemon's HP, however that would be measured.

There were stories of starmie that could reconstitute themselves from a single fragment of their cores after a gyarados or kingdra ate most of them for dinner. On the other hand, very few other pokemon were anywhere near that robust. A gardevoir would definitely die without a head and I doubted this corsola counted among their number either.

Most of all, Recover was exhausting. It was a move that revitalized the user with pure aura. It forced the entire body to behave like stem cells while hyper-accelerating cell division and differentiation. In short, it could be described as a way to transmute raw aura into physical, usually organic, matter. Naturally, that meant it took its toll on the pokemon's stamina in a way that couldn't really be mitigated. It certainly wasn't a move that could be spammed eight times back to back like the games.

A freshly caught corsola who was asked to use Recover again and again and again? She'd wear herself out in short order.

"Close in and deck her," I instructed. "Keep it up until she tires herself out."

A mankey didn't need much encouragement to get violent. He treated the poor thing like a weighted punching bag. Each time he did any real damage, the Encore kicked in and she reformed her pink shell.

"Come back," I called. Durvasa, to his credit, stopped immediately and trotted to my side. He wore a small, satisfied smirk on his face, just about the happiest I'd ever seen him. "Do you yield, Larry? I don't think she's down to do much else."

"Yeah, I do. You did good, girl," he praised his corsola as he returned her. "That was a nasty trick with the Encore."

"It was."

"And with the speed. Little bugger's faster than I thought he'd be."

"He is," I said with a proud smile. "Durvasa worked really hard for that speed."

"So he has." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. "Let me give you your winnings."

"Nah, we agreed this was practice. If anything, I should be thanking you for giving Durvasa such a great intro to battling."

"This was his first battle too?"

"First trainer battle. He took on a few wild pokemon and I reckon he's got plenty of experience before I caught him."

He huffed. "Well, that little thing's going to grow up to be a right terror."

I grinned with a few too many teeth. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

Author's Note

Dick jokes? About castform? How can I not? I mean, it's right there!

Back when I was in middle school, I was the biggest Naruto nerd. My friends and I used to memorize ninja hand signs for different jutsu so we could dick around during recess. I sometimes think of stuff like this when I write and immediately cringe with shame. Upside of moving across the country as an adult: None of my embarrassing shit followed me to DC.

All of Frankie's pokemon can learn Weather Ball. Why does he look like a watermelon? I don't know, I just felt like I haven't written enough anime hairstyles lately.

On another note, if you're looking for a new Pokemon fic to read, check out Twisted Garden on SpaceBattles. It's a bit darker and grittier than this story, but it's well-written and has a faster pace I think will agree with some people more.

The story follows the rise of Erika from a street rat in Celadon to becoming a powerful grass type specialist. It's got a lot in common with Sacrifice and Subjugation in terms of tone if any of you remember that story.

I don't have an animal fact for you today, but here's a presidential fact: Franklin Roosevelt was married to his cousin, Eleanor Roosevelt on St. Patrick's Day. What's that have to do with the chapter? Nothing.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.