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Old 02-27-2013, 03:40 AM   #1
Ex-Admiral Insane
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Gallade The Stories of Lucas' Ragtag Team

Posts here will delve into the backgrounds of my Pokémon. There will most likely be multiple chapters released over a period of time. They might seem a bit depressing, but I'm hoping to create a better happy ending that way. Comments to my work are always allowed (but not here and please keep it gentle.)


Rag's Story:
Chapter I: Competition for Food
Chapter II: When the Sun Sets
Chapter III: Greetings and Meetings
Chapter IV: Highly Valued
Chapter V: Ganging Up
Chapter VI: Fading Light

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Old 02-27-2013, 03:57 AM   #2
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Rags' Story, Part I: Competition for Food

Rain cascaded off of the Pokémon’s helmet. It’s shelter was stolen again so, instead, it decided to cling close to the dumpsters side. Trying to find as much shelter and comfort as it could.
The dumpster was behind a huge supermarket. They had just received their weekly stock supply. The following morning would be the time the employees separated the food that was slightly off. It was a huge business and they tried to maintain that status by only providing the actual best for their customers. Whatever didn’t fulfil their expectations would be thrown out in the very dumpster that the Ralts was leaning against.
He was early and he had no protection from the rain, but since he wasn’t as violent as the other street pests, being early was the best option for him to obtain any food. He was used to it though. He had often needed to sleep with no warmth or comfort. It’s been the way he’s lived for a while. It must have been 4 years now. He couldn’t remember much of his previous life. He didn’t know his family and he didn’t really know any friends. He was alone, trying to survive for as long as he could.
He rested his head against the dumpster. The steel was cold, but it distracted him from the rain. He could hear shouting coming from an apartment across him. It was a couple. The Ralts knew them, sort of. This wasn’t the first time he had heard them argue. The city was full of people who didn’t get along. They were naturally the loudest and most noticeably.
Despite their daily bickering, the couple never left each other. He couldn’t understand that. He’d escape his current life if he could. These people had the option to move, but they didn’t.
A familiar clutter could be heard. The wife must have thrown a plate again. The man was sure to counter-attack by attacking her. He could always sense the hostility from people like these. Never a happy emotion. That was the worst part. He had to live in corners and abandoned streets, but those were the ones littered with people like them. He heard a scream. He could feel the pain that they were inflicting upon each other, but there was nothing he could do. A lone, weak Pokémon who already had trouble to fend for himself. How he wished he could be swept away from this place.
He was a little worn out. Living on the streets meant moving around a lot to find as much food as he could. As little as that could be. His fatigue made sure he fell asleep quickly. His alarm had already been set, so to say.

The big metal door to the back gave of a loud noise as it opened. The noise was enough to wake up the Ralts and also to attract any other street rats nearby. He could hear some scurrying coming from beneath the nearest pothole. He had to be quick. First though, he pushed himself to the wall. The workers would try to shove away anyone who neared the food while they were busy. They were pretty much fed up with the constant harassment of Pokémon asking for food. It’s the reason why the Ralts could hear the scurrying but not seen any Rattatta yet.
Loud thuds could be heard as chunks of food were thrown into the dumpster. 10 minutes later, the workers went back inside and closed the heavy metal door. Now was the moment. The Ralts climbed into the dumpster and started searching frantically for anything edible. He saw some meat. Raw though. He couldn’t eat that. He’d leave it for the scavengers. He continued looking. The metal sliding door finally shut. He looked up scared towards the pothole. If he didn’t find anything quick, he’d end up with nothing.
He started throwing pieces of garbage out. A heavy sound of metal against concrete could be heard. The pothole was opening! Rattatta started storming out and climbing the dumpster effortlessly. They started scurrying towards the meat and picking whatever they could with their fangs. A few were able to take large chunks of meat with them and took them back to the sewer to eat there.
The Ralts found a bag of nuts. Apparently, only the weight was off. The bag only weighed about 2/3 of what was supposed to be packaged, but that was enough reason not to sell it. He reached for the bag. A Rattatta caught this in the corner of its eye and quickly dashed forward. It bit the Ralts in his arm and took the bag of nuts. It’s teeth punctured the bag and spilled some of the nuts while the Rattatta dashed off to the sewers with its collected loot. It didn’t matter how many it spilled though. As long as it had something and the Ralts didn’t.
He was going to have to be quicker this time. A lot of the Rattatta had already gone, taking a lot of the food with them. They too, wanted to have this finished quickly before the next lot arrived. That’s how it worked on the streets. The stronger you were, the more you could afford to be late so as to extort food from the weaker. The Ralts wasn’t exactly weak, but all the others came in packs. He couldn’t steal food from the Rattata or else the Ratticates would come and take revenge. They were considered the bosses of the rat pack. They would hide right beneath the potholes and attack those who attacked the Rattatta. In exchange, they would get a lot of the food that the Rattatta had collected.
The Ralts found two apples. They were slightly bruised. The reason for their discarding. He could eat it fine though. He kept it close to him, trying not attract any attention. He needed more though. He kept looking and sure enough he found a packet of strawberries. Practically a treasure for Pokémon like him. Barely half of them were near rotten. Near. They were still edible if eaten immediately, but they couldn’t be kept on the shelves for very long. Thus the reason they were thrown away.
The strawberries and the two apples were enough. He crawled out of the dumpster, keeping his food close to him. A Rattatta saw this and leapt towards him. He was swift enough to brush him to the side this time. He had to leave quickly, the Ratticates were on their way.
He exited the alleyway not a moment too soon. He saw how a small pack of Zigzagoon were heading towards the food pile. They would keep the Ratticate at bay long enough for him to get away. If he didn’t leave right now, the Zigzagoons would attack him as well. At least he was glad that he didn’t have to face them.
Once away from the crowd, he looked at how much he had gathered and what he could eat of it. It seemed quite a large amount. It would probably be enough for him to make the trip for today. It was still early so he could definitely make it. He decided he would and headed off for the hill that lay just outside of the city. He avoided the alleyways and took the main streets. No one on the main streets would want to rob him of two nearly expired apples and some strawberries.
The people who passed him never tried to make eye-contact. They didn’t want to have anything to do with the likes of him. The worst were the powers he had as a Ralts. He could feel all the negative emotions coming from the people as they saw the little Pokémon pass through them. None had the intention of helping him. They’d rather wish they hadn’t even had to pass him on their way to wherever they went. It would ruin their mood for their day. A filthy vagabond that was still walking amongst the community.

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Old 03-02-2013, 04:51 PM   #3
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Rags' Story, Part II: When the Sun Sets

He was nearly there. He had walked through almost half the city and was currently in the outskirts of town. Just a few small houses that enjoyed lying a bit off from the busy streets of the city centre.
The Ralts was headed for a hill that lay just at the border. He just had to pass another few houses and he’d be there.
The last house. It was just like any other house. One that always had smoke blowing from its chimney. Right behind it was a small patch of grass and beyond that, the hill.
It was tiring for a little Pokémon like him to climb the entire way, but he considered it to be worth it. On top of the hill sat a lone tree. That’s where he was heading. The tree wasn’t very special. It stood alone from the forest that lay beyond the hill. The tree was thin and unfit for any Pokémon to use as a home. That’s what made it perfect for him.
There were low protruding branches that allowed small Pokémon like him to climb it. He took a hold of the first branch. His energy was low. Luckily he had decided to eat one of the apples on his way here, giving him some strength. He was balancing his climbing, the packet of strawberries and his last apple. He finally managed to reach the top. Once there, he sat on the top branch and stared at the city that lay ahead of him.
From here, he had a beautiful view of the landscape. It looked like he sat on top of it, higher than any of the building that lay ahead of him. From here, he couldn’t feel any of the negative emotions that came with the city. He could admire it and not feel it’s sorrow. On this side of the city there was a forest with this lonely hill standing out of it. On the opposite side lay a huge mountain forming irregular shapes in the landscape. It was spectacular. No matter how many times he came up here, it always looked different. Like there was something new to discover.
It seems he was right on time. The sun was ready to start setting. It gave of an orange glow over the mountain tops and the city. Even if the city gave of constant light from its many building that never seemed to shut down entirely, the sun always had an impact on it and gave it a softer glow that no artificial light could recreate. This was his favourite spot and his favourite moment. It was the only time he could get away from the buzz of the city. The only place where he felt like he belonged.
The Ralts opened his small box of strawberries and started consuming them while looking at the setting sun. He suddenly noticed a face looking at him from the house below the hill. The same house he had just passed on his way here. It was a boy. He had seen him before. The boy often sat in the house whenever he was high up in the tree. The boy smiled and waved happily at the Ralts. He waved back. This was another reason he often came here. It was not only the wonderful view that no one could admire, but also the one person in the city who gave recognition to his existence.
The boy closed his curtains and the Ralts continued eating his dinner.

The sun had set. The area around him was dark and he could hear sounds coming from the forest behind him that only nocturnal Pokémon made. Luckily the city always shined until the late hours. It provided him with a direction. It was warmer in the city and he would have to look for food again the following morning. He probably wouldn’t be so lucky the next time as he was today. On his way to the city, the Ralts finished his last apple, eating even the bruised parts that others usually wouldn’t. It wasn’t too late, so he still had time to find a discarded box to use as a bed.
He noticed a backstreet that had a few small boxes piled up. Perhaps there was one big enough to hold him? He went in and as he inspected the boxes he could hear footsteps behind him.
Three Poochyenas stood at the entrance of the street. The Ralts backed up, he was heading for a darker part of the street. The light of the city didn’t reach this far. He felt a wall behind him. He was trapped.
“You didn’t really think you could get away again?” said one of the Poochyenas. She was the only female of the group and also considered to be the smartest out of the three. Despite that, she had a the nickname of Uncouth on the streets. A nickname that suited her. “You must have learned something by now?” She was talking to him with a mocking voice. She was trying to be intimidating, an act that worked because of their previous encounters rather than her manner of talking.
The Poochyena family-line were at the top of the food chain when it came to the streets. They had no one to fear, not even animal control as they had scared them away on multiple occasions already.
“Go away. I have no food any more. I barely had enough for myself.” The Ralts was trying to stand up to Poochyena gang. He knew it wasn’t going to work. He knew exactly how it was going to happen. This wasn’t his first time he was extorted.
“Really?” asked a sinister voice behind the group. A Mightyena approached from the shadows. The other Poochyena stepped to the side, not wanting to get in its way. The Mightyena looked like you’d expect from a street dog. He was scruffy, like him, and had a few small scars on his paws from fighting. He was the most violent one in the group and naturally their leader. It was because of his constant fighting with other vagabonds and street dogs that he evolved first out of all them. Others started calling him Rage, because of his quick to anger persona. He had one noticeably feature and that was a huge scar across his left eye, revealing the pink flesh that lay beneath his dark fur. No one knew where he had gotten that scar. Not many people dared ask him.
“I hear you managed to get your hands on a delicious bunch of strawberries,” the Mightyena continued. He was bending down, like he was getting ready to pounce. The Ralts didn’t know how he found that out. As far as he knew, none of the Rattattas had seen him holding the box of strawberries.
“I don’t. I don’t know where you got that information, but as you can see, I have no food with me.” He put his hands out. A dumb move. The group was already sniffing the air and got closer to him.
“Don’t lie! We can smell it all over your hands! You’ve clearly eaten some sort of sweet fruit.” Rage was getting more and more violent. He could sense it. It was practically oozing from him. “You know that that's our food, right?"
"Whether they were strawberries or something else,” he continued. “You had food and you didn’t give us our share.” One of the Poochyenas started laughing hysterically. It was the one who was slightly insane; Ed. He loved it when he got to be violent from his master and his laughing just gave away that they were about to.
Rage gave a snarl. It was the signal. The three Poochyenas leapt towards him, fangs showing. There was no need for the leader to have to interfere. The Ralts could hold off one of them, but a group can quickly overpower him. They started biting and scratching him. Before long, he was knocked out.

He woke up not much later. His body was in pain, but he it would wear off soon enough. They might knock him out, but they would never go further than that. The group didn’t need to survive by scavenging for food. They were stronger than anything else on the street, so they lived by extorting food from the weak. Anyone who didn’t pay their weekly contribution to them or gave them some of the best food they could find, would end up on the wrong side of their paws.
They wouldn’t risk losing an important supplier. Their fight was merely a warning that he still had to pay his fee. If he continued ignoring this, the gang might change their mind and do something worse. He should find some more food for them soon, but right now, he wanted something to sleep in.
He looked again at the pile of boxes. At least the Poochyenas didn’t destroy that. He finally found a cardboard box that was big enough to hold him. He crept into it and closed the flaps, shutting any remaining light there was out.
The box was softer and warmer than the dumpster from the previous night. This time, he could fall asleep easily and pleasantly. It was one of those nights in which he dreamt. He usually dreamt the same thing; of him becoming stronger and getting back at Rage’s gang. Of him getting so strong that he could even defend those who couldn’t themselves, like the other weaker street Pokémon or the fighting couple from the previous night. He was dreaming of protecting the weak that were like him and others who were in trouble. Like an emissary of justice.

Last edited by Ex-Admiral Insane; 05-07-2013 at 06:50 AM.
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Old 03-12-2013, 04:31 PM   #4
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Rags' Story, Part III: Greetings and Meetings

He woke the following morning. It wasn’t early so he was too late to look for any food in market dumpsters this time. He was going to have to search through garbage cans, looking for leftovers that the owners discard regularly. They didn’t provide much and on top of that, he was going to have to find more to keep the gang from attacking him.
He headed towards the main street. He decided to go to the outskirts of town. There were less houses there, but they were easy to find and not many city Pokémon went there to scavenge for food. An odd Zigzagoon perhaps. He passed crowds of people again. All of them ignoring him and giving of the same resentful feeling towards him. He wanted to get away from it all, but he had to endure.
One day it would all go, he kept telling himself.
When passing the hospital closest to the edge of town, he saw a small family exiting it. Two parents and a son. He was slightly surprised to recognize the boy as being the kid in the house near the hill. The one that always waved at him. The boy looked up as if he had just heard something and turned to look straight at him. The Ralts was startled by this. It was clear that he was looking directly towards him. The boy smiled and waved again at the Ralts. It was weird. In the dense city, he could only sense negativity, but for that brief moment the boy´s smile made it all better. He was the one positive shining beacon in the crowds. The parents had already ushered him to move along. The boy had to turn his back to him and walk away. The Ralts didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to follow him. As a Ralts he was attracted by such positivity. He shook it off. He needed to find food. Besides, he was heading in the same direction anyway, his house.

Once there at the house, he started tipping over garbage cans, making them spill their contents. He started scurrying through it to look for any leftovers that the owner may have thrown out.
He stopped. He could hear sounds coming from within the house. “What in tarnation!”
Quick! He had to get out of there. The owner must have heard him and was now heading for the door. The Ralts ran to the other side of the house. The owner would yell, but he wouldn’t start a search, so he’d be safe as long as remained out of sight.
He continued looking through other garbage cans, trying not to make as much noise this time. So far he had found nothing good. He went to the next one only a few steps away. This one was already opened, so that made it easier for him. Before he went on though, he noticed a light coming from the ground floor of the house nearby. A kid stood behind the window, staring at the Ralts. The Ralts stood dead in its tracks as the little kid smiled and waved at him. It was the same boy who exited the hospital earlier that day and who saw him when he sat in the tree. He hadn't noticed before, but he had walked towards the hill little by little.
The boy was distracted for a while when a larger figure appeared next to him, seemingly talking to him. Most likely one of his parents. The kid nodded and not much later the door opened of the house. The two parents left and closed the doors. The Ralts quickly hid behind the garbage cans which were in plain view. Luckily he hadn’t messed around with it or he’d be noticed by them. It looked like the parents were going out for a while, but that they’d be back soon.
Once the coast was clear, he decided to continue looking for food, only to notice the kid again, this time standing in the doorway. He was looking in his direction and waved to him, beckoning him to come inside. He was hesitant about it though. It isn’t considered usual for people to invite stray Pokémon inside their house. There must have been something behind it.
The boy went back inside before returning a few seconds later with an apple in his hands. He pointed to the apple, trying to use it as a peace offering of some sort. The Ralts wasn’t taking any of it. It was simply more suspicious than before. The kid seemed disappointed when the little Pokémon didn’t want to near him, so he left the apple on the floor in front of the entrance. He went back inside but he didn’t close the door behind him.
A few minutes passed by and nothing had happened. The Ralts was still contemplating on whether he should go for the apple or not.
He crept a bit closer. Still nothing. He couldn’t see the kid, so he might have just left already.
The Ralts walked a bit closer still. Still no movement inside the house.
He finally reached the apple and picked it up. It was practically perfect. No bruises or missing bites. It had a nice shiny coat and even smelled right. It was the kind of apple that supermarket’s like the one he frequently visited offered to their customers; perfect.
His stomach growled. It had been a while since he ate.
It wouldn’t hurt to take on bite, he thought.
He took a small bite, just to see how it tasted. It was delicious for him. It wasn’t too soft, it was still sweet and it didn’t give a grainy feeling in his mouth as he chewed it. He immediately took another bite. He couldn’t believe how good it tasted. No wonder those big supermarket chains threw so much away. None of that food tasted even remotely as good as this.
At this point, he couldn’t stop himself any more. He was taking one bite after another from his delicious piece of fruit. Chewing it all away as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
“Does it taste nice?” a voice came from inside.
The Ralts was startled. He hadn’t noticed the little boy who had been standing in front of him for a while now. For a moment, he thought he was in trouble and darted off to a nearby bush to hide.
The kid seemed a little depressed to see him run off like that. He had another apple in his hands. This time, though, he didn’t place it on the floor. He reached the apple out in front of him, trying to lure him away from the bush. If he wanted another apple, he had to get close to the kid.
He was mulling it over. The Ralts hadn’t sensed the usual hostility from him that he felt from other city citizens. Maybe because he was still young, he couldn’t harbour such feelings? The little Pokémon decided to take a leap of faith and reached close for the apple, expecting a sudden movement to appear any moment.
He was close, his hand only a few inches away. The boy smiled towards him and made the final move by pushing the apple in his hands. The Ralts was slightly surprised by this. He decided to trust the boy and ate his second apple there. After a couple of bites, the Ralts offered the kid a bite, having forgotten his manners and own friendly demeanour.
“No thank you,” he said. “It’s for you.”
The Ralts didn’t have to think twice on such an empty stomach and hungrily ate his second apple. The little boy was curious about such a Pokémon and tried reaching out for it, interested to see how it felt. The Ralts was hesitant at first, but he decided to let it go and let the boy pet him. It actually felt a little good to have someone pet him. Physical contact that didn’t result in cuts or bruises.
“You’re quite dirty aren’t you?” The boy looked down the Pokémon and saw how he was battered. “You’re like a bunch of rags,” he said. The Ralts took this offensively and turned away from the kid. “It’s okay,” the little boy continued. “I don’t mind at all.”
The boy went back inside and when he didn’t come out for a while, the Ralts thought he should maybe enter, but he decided against it. Since the kid wasn’t coming back out, he turned and left in the opposite direction. The kid’s parents were probably going to come back soon anyway.
After a few steps, he heard a door close behind him. He looked back at the house and saw that the door was indeed closed. A small bunch of bananas was lying in front of it. Since he trusted the boy a little now, he saw no harm in taking them. It seemed obvious that the kid was offering them to him. He went back to pick up the bananas and expected the door to maybe open again, but it didn’t. It seemed that that was all there was going to be of their brief meeting. The little Ralts took the bananas and left. Interested to see what bananas would taste like, he decided to eat one on his way back to the city centre.

It was darker by the time he reached the city centre. No sound could be heard any more but his own footsteps and an odd bird that whose wings gave an ominous echo through the streets.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a shadow gaining on him. He had noticed him earlier, but said nothing of it. He knew who it was and he wasn’t going to lose them. They were getting more and more silent each time they stalked him.
The Ralts went into a dark alleyway. This one also had a huge dumpster belonging to another market. A market specializing in vegetables. It was their turn for their weekly stock upgrade tomorrow. He stopped and turned around to face the shadows that were following him. He could see them now at the end, attracted by the smell of him and his banana’s. It’s a pity they outnumber him or he’d have run away. Not that that was the smart option considering he’s already forgotten to pay his tribute.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Don’t try and fool us this time. We can see the food right there in your hand.” It was Uncouth, the female Poochyena. The other two were right behind her; Cry and Ed.
“It’s al right,” said the little Pokémon full of confidence. I got these for you. An obvious lie. As he said it, he threw the bananas in front of them, hoping they’d take it and leave. Of course, it was never that simple with them.
“Hey!” shouted Cry, the Hyena known for making loud noises when heading in for an attack. Much like a battle cry. He was the weakest of the three, but after Rage, he was definitely the most savage. “You bruised our food!”
The Poochyena crouched, ready to attack. “Can I get him boss? Can I, can I?” He was asking Uncouth this time. She was the de facto leader of the group whenever Rage wasn’t around. He must be out punishing other late payers. Rage wasn’t as friendly to the packs as he was to the Ralts. The packs paid one large tribute for their entire group, so missing one or two members wouldn’t diminish Rage’s cut of their income. This was the Ralts’ advantage in being a loner.
“A bit comfortable playing leader when the boss isn’t around?” The little Pokémon directed the question at Uncouth. She growled at him for insulting her.
“Yes, go!” she shouted in response to Cry's request. He barked loudly as he charged forward. His voice was hoarse and gave a few peeps when he shouted. It would be laughable if it didn't lead to larger bite marks.
The Ralts didn’t protect himself as Cry jumped on him and bit his arm, drawing a little blood with his fangs. He jumped back and gave a hoarse laugh. Ed was laughing hysterically at the little Pokémon that lay bleeding on the ground. “Don’t forget next time or we’ll do worse when boss isn’t around.” Uncouth said nothing more and turned away. The other two following right behind her after giving the wounded Pokémon a menacing stare.
Once they left, he decided to stand up. It hurt him a little to do so but lucky for him it was a simple puncture. Nothing too serious. Had he resisted to them, they’d have done worse. Rarely do you come across the gang without being attacked. They always had an excuse why they could. They were already leaning towards attacking him after their complaint of 'bruising their bananas'. He merely gave them another excuse this time to speed things up. An attack like that was practically minimal. Nothing more than asserting their dominance in the streets.
He went back to the dumpster and made a small shelter out of cardboard, no boxes this time unfortunately. There were a few sheets of cardboard and he used those as a cushion between him and the cold ground.
He could sleep as long as he liked this time. Smaller chains like the market he was near usually had the same delivery van and thus the same delivery date. Multiple markets around town would be getting their fresh produce, so fewer Pokémon were going to appear nearby.
He slept on his side, using the cardboard sheet as a barrier between him and the rough floor. This time, he fell asleep thinking of the boy that lived near the hill. Maybe he could drop by again and obtain some more food?

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Old 04-21-2013, 05:16 AM   #5
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Rags' Story, Part IV: Highly Valued

The following morning consisted of his usual repertoire. He was already searching through the dumpsters for food. There was an odd Rattatta or Zigzagoon here and there. Nothing too serious, nothing he couldn’t handle. Their pack leaders weren’t around to protect them anymore so they were more docile than usual. He could pick out food without having to worry about them.
So far he had collected an onion and a green bell-pepper. If he had some more, he might be able to make another trip to the tree. He was in luck, a carrot protruded somewhere amidst the trash. He plucked it with relative ease. The carrot was quite big for its size.
Satisfied with his newfound treasure, he headed once again for the hill and the tree that lay atop of it. He ate his onion on the way there. The least favourite out of the three and thus the reason he wanted to finish it first; saving the best for last. He couldn’t give the onion to the Poochyenas anyway. They’d scold him (and worse) if he offered that.
By the time he reached the hill, he had half a bell pepper, the other half was a bit off, and the large carrot. He had to stop when he was halfway up.
“Hey it’s the rags Pokémon! You’re back!” came a shout from behind him. He looked back at the house that lay at the bottom of the hill. It was the kid again. He was up in his room this time, there was no telling if his parents were home or not. The kid waved to him again and pulled out an apple to show to the Pokémon. He was trying to get the Ralts to come to him again.
Deciding that the kid wasn’t malicious and that a delicious apple was a nice replacement for the half rotten vegetables he had, the Ralts climbed back down the hill until he stood at the bottom of the house, right below the boy’s window. The boy, in the mean time, tied a rope to a basket and lowered it out of his window. A basket full of apples. The boy had realized that apples were the Pokémon’s favourite food.
Excited, the Ralts leaned into the basket to pick up an apple. As he was hanging just above the basket and its apples, he felt something hit him in the stomach and tumbled into it. The kid was lifting it back up and had thereby toppled the Ralts into it. The Ralts was obviously scared and wanted to climb out of it, but by the time he looked over the edge, he saw that he was already too high up to make a safe retreat. It would be a problem for a little Pokémon like him to step out now. He tried to keep himself as close to the centre of the basket as he could, afraid he might swing it and topple out of it otherwise.
Once at the top, the boy reached his hand out to him. “Hi. Why’d you leave yesterday?” The Ralts wasn’t listening to what he was saying and merely backed up. It was a mistake, as he now swung the basket and fell out of the basket. He felt the shock of adrenaline as he could feel his feet slipping away, having nothing to hang on to, and he could feel the two hands that deftly grabbed his feet when they lost their footing. He heard a small crash and after opening his eyes, he could see the basket below him, its contents spilled on the ground just beneath him. He gulped and looked up to the boy who was desperately holding on to him. The Ralts was light, but despite that, the kid was having trouble pulling him up. Eventually he managed and pulled the lightweight Pokémon through his window and into his room.
The Ralts looked around. It was a pretty big room with toys littering the floor everywhere. There was one book open that lay in an open spot. It was a simple picture book.
“Are you okay?” Looking back to the boy, he seemed generally concerned about the little Pokémon. The little Pokémon in turn still wasn’t sure if it was all a trick or why the kid was reaching out for him in the first place. “I’m Lucas by the way.” He reached out a hand to the vagabond. Hesitant at first, he shook the kid’s hand but didn’t give a name, much to the boy’s dimayal. He didn’t really have one anyway. There hadn't been anyone to give him a name in the first place nor anyone to give it to either.
The Ralts was interested in the picture book and kept making small glances at it. The boy, Lucas, noticed this and asked if he was interested in it. "Do you want to see it?"
The Ralts didn’t respond but followed Lucas as they went over to it. He lied down in front of it in the open space. He must have been looking in it before.
"It’s my favourite book,” he said. It shows pictures of different places in the world. The Ralts looked together with the Lucas as he flipped through the pages. The book was filled with photographs taken by someone who went around to the world to capture imposing scenes. He saw a picture of a bunch of Snorunt huddled together around a, what one would assume to be selfmade, campfire. They were in a snow filled area. There were some trees on the side that looked like those on Christmas day. An entire forest filled with them. In the distance there were snowcapped mountains and beyond that a weird glowing aura that spanned the night sky.
Another picture was in a completely different area. It was a desert that consisted of nothing but sand dunes and a cloudless sky with a sun that looked hotter than usual. In the centre of the scene was a group of Maractus, Cacnea and Cacturnes who, despite the barren wasteland seemed to be enjoying themselves. The Maractus were shaking their hands as if playing instruments.
Another picture was of a jungle. The type in which you could hear sounds coming from everywhere but never find a source for it. In this picture the jungle Pokémon, many of which were of the bug-type, seemed to be attracted by the photographer and came out of their hiding spot. The jungle was filled with more live in that picture than you would usually see when taking a stroll.
The Ralts stood in awe at the many interesting pictures that the book had to offer. One of them especially caught his attention. It was a photograph of a sunset taking place just beyond a mountain range. It looked quite a lot like the view that he had from on top of the tree, but I felt off for some reason. None of the serene calmness that a real sunset gave off came through in the picture. It was nothing like the real deal. He looked at Lucas and pointed to the picture, sounding angry. “Ral! Ralralral!”
“What’s wrong with the picture?” he asked. The Pokémon pointed to the tree that was visible outside the window and tried making it clear that there was a difference. Even though Lucas couldn’t understand a Pokémon’s speech, he somehow got an understanding of what he was trying to say.
“So it's not real?” He mulled the Pokémon’s words over. “I guess many of the pictures don’t look really real. But I can’t go to these places, so this is the best I have.” The boy seemed a bit depressed now.
“Ral, ru-ralral.” (What do you mean? You can see one of these things in your own backyard.) He once again pointed to the tree.
Lucas saw the tree but he didn’t look too excited. “I can’t,” he finally said. The Ralts was slightly shocked to hear it. “My mom and dad,” he continued. “They said I’m sick. I need to wait to get better first.” The Ralts now remembered seeing him and his parents leave the hospital the other day. “I’ve been sick for a long time now. I’m not allowed to go outside so I can only play here in my room, but that gets boring after a while."
"But you’re here now. So that makes it more fun.” The Ralts thought about what he said. Lucas was the first one from who he could sense positive emotions in a long time. He didn’t want him to be sad about not being able to go outside. “Ralral? rururalru?” (How about this? Once you get better, we’ll go to the tree together?”
Once again, the boy was somehow able to understand him without understanding the Pokémon language. The boy lit up. “Really? You promise?” The Ralts nodded. He didn’t exactly know why he promised it, but there was something about his positive character that he didn’t want the boy to lose. Every Ralts is always attracted to positive emotions. He most likely didn’t want to lose that one beacon he could see in the boy.

The following months were spent visiting the child every so often. In exchange, Lucas always gave him an apple for departure. It started as a small way of payment for his visits and quickly became an unnecessary ritual of theirs.
They started with brief visits, but that didn’t take long before those few minutes became hours. They often played board games or made blanket forts, but their most favourite past time was to look in the picture book and dream about adventuring in far-off places. Often they’d pretend to be adventurers themselves and make up stories that always got them into trouble.

It was a bit odd and creepy, the Murkrow that sat perched on the lonely tree atop the hill. The Ralts could see it clearly when he climbed down Lucas’ window. It just stood there, staring at him. It gave a small squawk when the little vagrant turned around and left the house to go to the city. He could feel the eyes of the bird piercing his back, but not for long. The flatter of wings could be heard when he had taken his first few steps. It was almost silent, but could be easily heard in the dead of night.
It was now night time when he was walking through the streets again. His attitude was more positive now with his frequent visits to Lucas. The two of them seemed to have a positive influence on each other.
He suddenly stopped when he heard a noise coming from in front of him. The sound was obviously that of the Poochyena gang. With his now longer visits, he had forgotten to pay his overdue fine to them. He could see their shadows dancing on the wall. They were just around the corner. He spun around. He didn’t want to face them at this moment. All he had now was the apple that Lucas gave, an apple that was always given to him whenever he left his place.
He went around the corner only to be shocked by the figure that stood before him; Cry. “Whatcha got there? It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”
He said nothing in return. Instead, he turned around to run in the opposite direction but bumped into something. Uncouth had followed him and was standing in the way. To his right, he could see Ed nearing as well. He was pinned from all three directions, his back against the wall that blocked his last escape.
“Rage has been asking about you,” said Uncouth. “He wants to know why you haven’t paid him your tribute.”
The Ralts gulped. “I haven’t been able to find a lot of food lately and-“
“Shut it! We know all about the apples!" The words came out with a hiss, making it sound sinister. "We’ve been following you for a while now to see why you haven’t been paying.” Uncouth was so close to him now that she seemed to tower above him. She was being as intimidating as she could. “Rage has a demand,” she continued. “You give him any apples you get from now on, or else..”
The Ralts wasn’t too sure what they were talking about but he didn't exactly want to find out. Yet on the other hand, he was sure they weren't going to go so far as to kill him. “Or else what? If you kill me, you never get the apples anyway. I’ll just give him the same food I always give him.”
“The boss said…” She was grinning, that was a bad sign. Ed was starting to snigger. “If you don’t give the apples, we’ll hurt that little human you always visit until he gives them to us.” The menace in her eyes were sincere. They really would attack the kid for something as trivial as an apple. On the streets, fresh fruit was one of the highest commodities available and anyone else having such a produce instead of the street leaders would be treated as a rebel.
Rags gasped at what they had just said; harming a sick human. Ed was now laughing like a maniac at the very thought of it. The Ralts was thinking back to Lucas and all the good times he’s had with him in the little time they had spent together. He couldn’t get him hurt. Sure, it wouldn’t be easy for the gang to get to Lucas, but he wasn’t going to take that risk. A threat like this wouldn't be made if they didn't even slightly believe themselves they'd do it. If Rage ordered them to, they’d stalk the boy until they got the opportunity to attack. They’re not too worried about anyone stopping them. Not this pack.
He had to bow his head in disappointment. “Fine,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll give the apples to you.” The words sounded like those of a defeated soldier in battle, having to succumb to his enemies demands.

It was weird though, somehow Lucas could notice that something was wrong with the little Pokémon when he gave the apple. Before, he had greedily eaten the fresh fruit that was given to him, but lately he had shown little interest in it. He kept the fruit, but he was never seen eating it again.
Thinking there was something wrong with the consistency, he offered an orange instead. The Ralts refused the offer of having something different, the gang might only get more violent if they find out about this. But the kid wasn’t going to leave it at just that. He ushered the Pokémon to eat the apple and before the vagrant could leave the house, he would be given a second apple.
“Is this enough?” asked the young boy. To the boy, a price of two apples meant nothing for the pleasurable company of the Pokémon and he would gladly give more if that would appease the Pokémon.
Not wanting to hurt any feelings, the Ralts accepted the second apple that was given to him from then on. One apple for him, one apple for Rage. Somehow the kid knew just what he needed. It seems the gang couldn’t break his spirit just yet. If they demanded more of him, the kid would just simply give more to counter.

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Old 05-07-2013, 06:48 AM   #6
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Rags' Story, Part V: Ganging Up

It was about noon by his estimation of the sun. The little Pokémon stood in a small backstreet that had a view of the hospital’s entrance. The same one that he had passed the day he first saw Lucas. He was waiting for him.
It’s almost time. He couldn’t enter the hospital with Lucas since first of all the hospital might not let a stray Pokémon in so easily and secondly, his parents still didn’t know about his daily visits to Lucas. A confrontation with the parents might not end well for their friendship. After all, parents have standards when it comes to who their child should be with, but that was unimportant now.
He was to make sure Lucas could at least see him, if only for support. Today Lucas would hear some news concerning his health and from the sound of it it was going to be good news. Maybe he'd finally be able to go outside, something they’ve both been hoping for a long time.

It took a while before he recognized someone further along. In one of the side streets opposite the street, just a few feet away from the hospital, stood Rage and his fellow Poochyena’s. What are they doing here!? Just like him, they seemed to be waiting for someone, eagerly. This slightly worried the Ralts. Did they find out about the extra apples? The same way they find out about the apples in the first place? He shook his head. They couldn’t be. If they had learned about it, they’d have come to him first and bullied him for them as they usually do. They wouldn’t go straight to Lucas, it wasn’t their style and besides, how could they know that Lucas was to visit the hospital today?
He shook his head again to reassure himself, but even so he had to avoid being seen by them if he wanted to stay and support Lucas. He needed to somehow lure the gang away.
It was too late unfortunately. Shortly after their arrival, he could already see Lucas walking towards the building with his parents. This was going to be his only moment to be seen, but his gaze was fixated on Rage. The gang showed more activity and had their sights fixed on Lucas as well.
No, he thought. They wouldn’t. But the group was already heading towards the kid since the moment they saw him come around the corner. There was no time to think, the little Ralts had to stop them. Lucas had been waiting for good news for a long time and an attack from them might change the course of the day. He had to stall them, as long as he could do that, Lucas might enter the hospital safe and on time. There’s not a chance the gang would enter a public building after all. They probably couldn't even afford to stand in the main streets for longer than a few minutes.
He crossed the streets. He was lucky that there wasn’t much traffic this time of day. Rage didn’t see him until the little Pokémon stood in front of him, arms spread blocking his path on the sidewalk. Sure, he could simply walk around him or even jump, but a ruler needs to make sure his servants stay in line. Allowing a Pokémon to stand up to him like that and get away with it might hurt their reputation. The Ralts knew this, he was effectively trading his life for that of Lucas.
Rage growled. As much as he wanted to pounce on the little vagabond, he seemed desperate to get to the boy. “Get out of the way, now! Punk.”
The Ralts shook his head, his legs were quivering but he did his best to make it unnoticeable. “I won’t let you, you can’t attack humans!” What am I doing? he thought to himself. Am I really doing this for someone else?
Rage snarled at him. He was ready to remove a huge chunk of flesh if he had to. “You’re one to talk," he snapped back. "You’ve never liked humans that much as far as I can remember. Always ignoring you, denying your existence." He stepped closer to the Ralts, putting his face in front of his, face to face, eye to eye. Rage’s fury could be seen in his. They were deep and black, obviously mirroring his inner anger. “So I’ll say this one more time since I’m in a hurry. Get out of the way now, or else…” He didn’t have to say anything else. Rage had been more barbaric and impulsive lately and standing up to him was the dumbest move the little tyke could do at that moment.
“No,” he replied, his whole body was now shaking from fear and he closed his eyes when Rage lifted a paw. This was it, he thought. This is how it was going to end for him.
The following 3 seconds were most likely the longest he had to endure. In that short moment, he took everything in from his surroundings that he could hear, smell and feel. He could sense the small breeze that was created when Rage lifted his paw, he could smell the baker from a few buildings down, the fresh bread mixed with the smell of medical supplies from the hospital next to him. The smell was strong, he could practically taste it. It tasted bitter. He almost had to vomit from it. He also noticed his heartbeat, how it was beating faster and harder than before and how it was suddenly going to stop. But most of all, he could hear something scurrying beneath his feet, he could hear the pothole scraping across the paved ground and he could hear small paws racing across the asphalt in the distance. They were the longest 3 seconds and they never ended. Something had stalled the time in that small instance.
The attack never came and the Ralts was unsure if the attack had never landed or it had been quicker than anticipated. He opened his eyes slowly and calmly. Was he to meet his maker?

No. A white figure had joined the group of three Poochyena’s. It was a Meowth, another Pokémon that lived on the streets for quite some time. One that usually survives by begging food of others, including humans. A small gash of blood could be seen on Uncouth’s leg. It looked a lot like a cat scratch. It must have been the Meowth, but why? The Ralts didn’t know, but he guessed the Meowth's attack must have stalled Rage for a while. He turned to meet the other Pokémon.
"Another one who shows disrespect to us! I'll make sure you regret that choice." He was eager to pounce on the cat before two more Meowths came running from the distance which distracted his attention for a moment, just enough to give the Meowth's the advantage of striking Uncouth again. A small ratpack emerged from the sewers and was now heading towards the fight as well.
“Rats!” someone yelled when they were spotted. The masses that were before merely avoiding the street Pokémon were now doing their best to stay away as far as they could. Some were seen running and others even screamed when the Pokémon arrived in hordes. The entire scene had turned into some sort of street fight and it wouldn't take long before Animal Control would arrive.
"Rags?" cam a small voice. It was Lucas. The boy had almost missed the scene and was ushered by his parents to move quicklt into the hospital where it would be safer. Just like the rest of the people, Lucas' parents wanted to stay as far away from the street Pokémon as they could. They had entered the hospital. Lucas was safe and Rage had missed his chance, but now the Ralts was going to have to deal with Rage himself.

After the ratpack, the Ratticates followed them shortly thereafter. It was a rare sight to see to anyone who was still standing in the otherwise empty streets. Two came out of the sewers, one had a chipped tooth and only patches of fur instead of a full coat while the other had almost bloodshot eyes and claws with nails that were longer than they were supposed to. They were clearly violent troupe leaders. Ratticates always hide inside the sewers, only coming out in the rarest of cases so it was only natural for the Poochyenas to be caught in surprise as they saw the two ratkings head towards them, fangs and teeth showing. They were simply frightening to look at and the small ratpack joined in the fight and targeted Cry who let out his signature howl once they srated biting. He tried to shake them off vigorously but to no avail, the Rattata’s were clinging to his skin with their teeth, drawing blood each time Cry shook again. The Ratticate’s joined by delivering some of the worst blows with their teeth and nails, creating gashes on their legs.
The Meowths meanwhile were continuing their fight with Uncouth as well. They were relying more on their speed and agility, jumping over Uncouth and delivering violent Pound attacks as they leapt over her. The paws and nails were hitting her from all directions, she could barely concentrate on picking a target to attack as she was thrown about before she could do anything. Trying to stand on all four legs proved to be a challenge enough.
Rage and Ed looked on, about ready to join the fight. Ed let out his maniac laughter, but it came out as a whimper. Never before had they been attacked by others before and almost on cue with his laughter came another small pack of street Pokémon from around the corner. Zigzagoons this time. They saw Ed in between the scuffle and locked on to start scratching them. Their soft-looking exterior betrayed their true nature as they were as violent as the Ratticates looked. They had no restraint in targeting some of the more sensitive places of the Poochyena, attacking even his face. Ed closed his eyes and his laughter that had become a whimper was now reduced to simple crying.
The three Poochyena lackeys were pinned down by inferior street Pokémon. Rage growled at the group, but there was nothing he could do. He could try swatting some of them off, but a city full of pests could easily take them out. They knew it might have been a risk for them, but they did it anyway. The gang had always come out at night and extorted one group after another. Each group was extorted separately and nighttime provided a cover of darkness for the dark-type Pokémon. Having to come out during the day, when some of the lesser Pokémon were gathered together didn’t provide the most ideal moment to have to face them. All it took was one Pokémon to stand up to them to cause the cascading reaction of rebelling. Don’t mistake though, the street Pokémon were not working together or forming one united front. They took advantage of the situation they were given and each expressed their pain and disgust towards Rage and his group individually. The gang’s recent increasing violence must have finally snapped their minds and give them the last push they needed to strike back. They had a relatively stable life before and they liked it that way. All the group's anger and built up rage was now being released in their assault. They shared their pain with their bullies in every bite and every scratch that was delivered.
Rage turned back towards the Ralts who was still had his arms lifted in a vain attempt to block Rage. Meaningless now that Lucas was already safe in the hospital. Rage was naturally pissed. He knew he couldn't stop stop the fight or even win it for that matter. But he was going to leave a message. If he couldn't stop the entire rebellion he would at least take out the one who started all of it; the Ralts. Rage crouched, ready to pounce in order to take out the instigator. He leapt and pinned the Ralts down on the floor. The Ralts' head hit the concrete and gave a small thud, possibly giving a light concussion. Rage’s claw was slightly digging into his white skin, colouring it a little crimson, as his paw left the little Pokémon pinned to the floor.
“You’re going to pay. Right here! Right now!” The words came out with a snarl. Even in this moment when all seemed lost for him and his group, he still refused to submit or retreat. He opened his mouth for his final move. A crunch attack that would leave too big a scar for a simple healing treatment. He was going for the kill.
He stopped though. His ears started twitching as. Did he hear something? He looked up to the top of the hospital's roof, the Ralts followed his line of sight, looking at the exact same spot. A small black figure could be seen at the top. It looked like a bird of some sort that gave a wretched squawk before flying off. It’s shape reminded the Ralts of the Murkrow he had seen before, but he knew it wasn't. Murkrow were nocturnal creatures after all and didn't often come to the city like Pidove's. He didn’t think too much of it though as Rage looked down at him again. His expression was a little softer this time. The fight behind him was getting worse. He let his paw go and called out to his group to run for now. They wanted to answer back, but were too occupied to even want to move their mouth. Instead of fighting back, which they couldn’t anyway, they tried to scurry away with some of their combatants chasing them. They weren’t going to let them go so easily. The group of Poochyena’s were howling in pain and limping as they tried to create as much of a distance as they could from their pursuers. Most of the Pokémon chased them a few blocks and the Ralts took advantage of the situation to slip away. With the common enemy missing, they differing packs of Pokémon were going to attack each other for superiority. The battle wasn't going to take long. One by one a Pokémon would escape when they had the chance to until finally animal control arrived scaring away the remainder of street Pokémon present. The Ralts escaped with the intent of being the first to escape this oncoming fight.

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Old 05-09-2013, 08:40 AM   #7
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Rags' Story, Part VI: Fading Light

“The doctor said I could go outside, rags!” The boy leapt at the good news he got to tell the ragged Pokémon.
“Ralralru. Ru-ral.” That’s great news! And don’t call me a rags. The Ralts shared the boy’s enthusiasm. After god knows how long of being trapped inside his room, the kid had permission from the doctor to go outside and taste the fresh air. As long as he doesn’t go off to far said the doctor.
“We are going to have so much fun from now. We can go to the forest to find berries and then eat them ourselves. We can go to that big bell in the city that always rings every day.” The boy had planned many things for this special day. Needless to say, he had been looking forward to it for a very long time.
“Ral!” Yes said the little Pokémon. “Rurururural.” And don’t forget the local market every Thursday or the birds that fly to town this time of year.
“Uhuh, those are also fun things to do. And the big Christmas Tree that stands in the city centre when it’s Christmas. Oh! And the snow that happens on Christmas day!” The two continued their conversation like this about the various activities they were going to do. They had mentioned the river that was a walk away from the city and the sea it mouthed into. A sea they wanted to see with theri own eyes for once. It was one that looked just like the one in their picture book. Their ideas for adventure grew bigger and bigger, expanding to the point that they were discussing about visiting the cactus Pokémon in the deserts and seeing real lava in volcanoes.
Their time together must have paid off. The two were communicating in ways that were usually impossible between a Pokémon and human. Somehow they had surpassed the language barrier and merely saw each other as two people talking about adventure.
“Oh! And we can go to an amusement park as well.”
The doctor himself was slightly surprised by the sudden recovery of the boy. ”Something must have set off this sudden vitality. A spark of some sort.”
“Hey, rag-Pokémon? Remember you promise?” He was looking slightly hopeful at the little Pokémon but his voice didn’t let up, showing the same enthusiasm.
“Ru! Ral-ralrural-ru.” But of course! We’ll go first thing tomorrow. And don’t call me rag-Pokémon.
The boy almost leapt into the air. He was of course referring to the promise they had made earlier. Tomorrow was going to be a special day according to the Ralts. They were going to the tree and see the sunset from there, a view that according to the Pokémon couldn’t be captured by a mere picture book. It was their main thing to look forward to since his first conversation with the Ralts.

“Come on rags!” They boy was speeding off towards the top of the hill where the tree stood. He had been running all day long, too much for the little Pokémon to keep up to. It was as if the kid had stored all his energy by being cooped up in his room.
“Ru.” The Pokémon’s words came out with a pant. The little one was dragging his feet in the ground, a few feet behind the boy already. “Ralrural.” And don’t call me rags.
“Come on! We’re almost there. The boy’s energy got him to run ahead, run back to the Pokémon to encourage him and then run ahead again. His energy was too much to handle for anyone, let alone a Pokémon half his size and an eight of his weight.
Perhaps the illness was a lie because the parents just wanted him to stay quietly inside the house, the Ralts said tiredly to himself. He shook that weird thought off and gathered his remaining energy for a last sprint towards the tree, trying to outrun his human companion.
“Oh no! You can’t beat me!” The boy raced next to him, the walk had quickly turned into a race.

Panting, the two lay in the grass below the tree, catching their breath. The race had ended in a surprising draw. They looked up towards the tree. It’s branches didn’t look too strong, but the Ralts was sure it could support them. They had carried him often enough and gave him enough views of the sunset. The boy, however, still hesitated so the Pokémon decided to go first to prove the tree’s strength.
The first branch gave a small crunching sounds as he stepped on it, but only bent slightly. Just the usual noise that comes from any old dead tree. “Ral. Rururu.” See. There’s nothing to worry about. The Pokémon continued moving up, each branch and twig gave off the same cracking sound, some more than others but none of them seemed to really break underneath his feet. He stopped just below the highest branches looking down at the boy. “Ral!” You’re turn! he shouted from above.
Lucas grabbed the first branch and tried to pull his weight up. He was kneeling on the first set of branches but was clinging to the bark of the tree. The branch was giving off more sound under his weight and was slightly tethering.
“I don’t like this! I want to go back!” He was obviously scared off the creaking that the near-dead tree gave off. Unlike most boys his age hadn’t practiced the art of tree-climbing before, having spent an unfortunate amount of time in his room. The Ralts was still unsure what was exactly wrong with him or what caused him to need to stay inside, but he never asked. Lucas didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it.
“Ralruru. Rururalralru.”Come on! You’ve already made the first steps. Here, try and reach for my hand. The Pokémon was hanging down from the tree and reaching out. His short hand was still quite up high, but it was enough encouragement to make Lucas attempt his next step. He reached for the next higher branch and pulled himself up. This branch was, as expected, a bit smaller and gave the same noise and tethering as the previous branch. The boy once again clutched the tree out of fear and waited for it to stop moving on its own before advancing.
This went on for the next few minutes, the sun was already preparing itself to call it a night. They’d miss the first disappearing rays, but it would still be worth it to get to the top of the tree to see the view. The last few seconds was what it was about. When dusk abruptly turns into night.
Lucas stood just below the Ralts, his hand reaching for him. Trying to stand on the thin twig of a branch, he tried reaching for the hanging hand. The branch gave off the same familiar cracking.
He had to stand on his toes. Their fingers were touching but it wasn’t enough to pull him up.
Just a little bit more they both thought. The boy stood on the very tips of his toes to reach out. Just a little more..
Their fingers touched each other, just well enough to hold a grip but the moment was brief. Right after their hands touched they slid past each other. Lucas’ feet as well, slipped past the very branch he was standing on. Unable to regain his footing in time.
A small shot of adrenaline released itself in him, but all it did was made him panic more; instead of catching another branch the boy kept falling till he hit a lower branch. The very same thin branch that could barely hold his weight before and now snapped under the impact. The kid tumbled down even further, his limbs hitting close-by branches and his extremities being scraped by the protruding twigs carving cuts and bruises. The Ralts could do nothing as he stood motionless at the top, having to witness his beacon of light dwindle before turning dark.
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Old 10-23-2013, 09:05 AM   #8
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Rags' Story, Part VII

Reserved. Story to come at a later date.
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Old 10-23-2013, 09:06 AM   #9
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Rags' Story, Part VIII

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Old 10-23-2013, 09:08 AM   #10
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Kong's Story, Part I

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Old 10-23-2013, 09:12 AM   #11
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Reserved. Story to come at a later date.

Yay, Kong has evolved into a Vigoroth
With this story comes his change in personality.
Kong has become energetic and unwilling to rest.
In addition, he has more confidence in his trainer as is evident from his enthusiasm and willingness to listen to orders.
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Old 07-20-2014, 05:56 PM   #12
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Seeking Passage

(Final edits to be made at a later point in time.)

Even inside the lone cottage the warmth and salty tang of the sea trickled in to give the pleasant feeling of being on the beach. Outside the door lay all of the Lucas’ Pokémon, enjoying the fine weather and their small retreat away, however short it may last. Well for some anyway. Rags had make sure no one caused too much trouble. Between ensuring Doom didn’t scurry off, Kong scaring Sterope, Wattson’s wailing, Blackbeard’s taunts and Faust’s attempt at recovering the situation by freeing those who became a nuisance, he had his hands full. The Wingull didn’t help too much either, merely screeching from above as it looked down at all of them. Still they enjoyed their time on the beach while their trainer remained inside to talk to the old man.
The old man may have been retired and had grey hairs as proof of his age but he remained sturdy and had the physique that came with his constant sailing of the years. Right now, he was returning from the kitchen with two cups of hot tea, made with some energy root Lucas had brought with him as a gift.
“That’s a large collection of Pokémon you have outside there. You know a trainer’s only allowed to bring six Pokémon with him at a time,” the old man said as he sat down, handing one of the cups over to the young trainer. Even when watered down, the odour of the energy root seared his nostrils.
“Yes but I need all of them to come with me where we’re going.”
“And where is that?”
“Home, we hope.”
The pensioned sailor relaxed further into his chair while sipping his tea, ignoring the heat and pungent smell of it. “So tell me why did you come to visit an old man in his quiet retreat?”
Lucas wasn’t entirely sure how to start or what to say so he went straight down to it. “I need you to sail me to an island.”
The old man blew across his stone cup before giving an answer. “Young man, I haven’t sailed anyone across the seas in quite some time. If it’s passage you want, you ought talk to one of the younger sailors at a port. They’ll gladly help you for a small enough price.”
This is wasn’t what Lucas wanted to hear. “I need to go to a specific island, one I found in a picture book-“
The old man cut him off. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you to an island based merely off of a picture.”
“I know but-“
“If you want to find the island,” the old man cut him off once more. “You’d best find the photographer.”
This time Lucas quietly blew across his cup, waiting for the commotion outside to die down before answering. It sounded like Kong had once again caused Sterope to gallop up far away and bulldozed her way through the others while doing so.
“It’s an old photo and the photographer is dead.” Before the old man could interrupt once more he continued. “But. He did have a grandson who might have known.”
The old man looked up wearily at the young trainer, expecting a small elaboration.
“He held illegal underground battles. For fighting types only.” Lucas remembered well how that last battle went.

Quote:
Originally Posted by FlashBack #1
The crows roared at the Machamp’s last swing towards the Gallade, knocking him back into his corner. The low dim lights enshrouded their faces but Rags could hear every single one of them as they cheered.
“You go Machamp!”
“Defeat that Psychic!”
Previously, the crowd was in an uproar about the unfair advantage Rags had as a Psychic type, cutting his way through all the other contestants to find himself face to face with the reigning Champion. A Machamp that for some reason appeared taller than usually as it loomed over him while he lay down in his corner, gasping for breath.
“Come on Rags!” his stupid trainer called to him. “Just use your advantage again and beat him.” The entire battle Rags had been less than eager to use his type advantage to win against the final opponent. Though he was becoming to regret that decision. He had started hoping they might meet his owner even if he did lose. Unlikely but at this point they had to hope. The four armed wrestler was showing no signs of weakness and Rags remained bruised on every part of his body. But he had finally understood his opponent’s battle tactic, mostly thanks to Wattson’s analysis with Lock-On.
A small ding could be heard that signalled the start of the next round. Rags had barely noticed the bell when it signalled for the break. He got up to his feet, taking a final full breath and bearing down the pain. Now it was his turn to get at his opponent.
The Machamp started with his opening punch, sending his upper-left arm down. Rags veered to his left, avoiding it while looking to his side. As expected. The Machamp was sending in his two right arms to deal the real blow. Gallade quickly jumped back a bit then ducked and rolled underneath the Machamp’s last left arm. Even out of breath, a Gallade remained more graceful and dexterous than the more brutish Machamp.
Standing just behind the Machamp, Rags finally delivered his first blow. With the Machamp’s back exposed and fully open, the Gallade went in for a Drain Punch, sapping his opponent’s strength while patching up his wounds. The fight quickly turned into Rags’ favour. Even the crows acknowledged this and roared in excitement, cheering the underdog for the first time. The tiring Machamp turned around, eyes red in rage as he charged in towards the Gallade. Rags equally set his foot as he went running in to meet his opponent. Both their arms came in towards their target and...
“Yes, yes, “ the sailor quietly replied. “You don’t have to go in too full a detail on the battle. “You win, did you not?”
Lucas merely nodded. He tried his best not to send himself into a rage of excitement when retelling the battle, hoping to curry more favour that way. “We did win. The reigning champion, the photographer’s grandson, came over to hand us the Champion Belt. We asked him about the photo and he told us.”
“So you know which island it is,” the sailor spoke.
“Not exactly. He told us the island didn’t have a real name.”
“I see.” The old man stroke his white beard for a moment before sipping his tea. He was starting to understand what was being asked. “Even then, I don’t have a ship. My old one sank and without a ship I can’t sail.”
“We have a ship.” Lucas perked up, hoping to finally get what he wanted.
The old man only frowned at that. “You? Have a ship? How in Arceus’ name were you able to buy a ship?”
“Well we didn’t exactly buy it.” A strange smile grew on the trainer’s face as if proud of what he was about to tell. Even if it was far from something to be proud of.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Flashback #2
“The air was dark and cold around this night. It was perfect, it would make Faust’s ice attacks that much more effective. The two of them crossed the wooden planks of the harbour, trying to make as little sound as possible. Well one of them at least. Kong’s footsteps were less than quiet and it took everything he had not to cry out a ‘Vigoroth’ from excitement. His fellow team mate, the Duskull, was the exact opposite. He didn’t make a single noise. Not that he ever did. The only signs of life inside the ghost type was his single red eye growing and shrinking behind his mask like a lighthouse. Lucas had given them their instructions and it was Faust who was given the command to make sure everything got carried out. No sense in trusting Kong on his own. He’s more likely catch a glimpse of a fish and try to swim after it. Which is exactly what he had tried to do on numerous occasions only to be stopped by Faust’s Ice Beam.
The two had finally made their way to the ship Innocence. If ever there was a lazier attempt at giving a corrupt ship an inconspicuous name, they had yet to pass it on their way. Still, this was what they were going for. The vessel was bound to the dock with heavy chains. Something the police should have caught on as non-innocent behaviour in the first place. With a single concentrated beam, Faust froze a section of the chain before firing one at the Vigoroth.
Kong leapt up and stopped bothering the fish in the harbour. His claws glowed only briefly before smashing into the brittle-made chain and shattering it. The sound was loud and chunks splashed into the sea. They had to act fast.
Kong leapt onto the ship’s deck and eagerly ran from place to place to marvel at the ship’s build like a small child would. Faust was more to-the-point and quietly hovered on board and through the hull undisturbed. A few seconds later, a loud grinding sound was heard and the ship’s light turned on as the ship speared off into the ocean. Kong held on for dear life as the engine went into overdrive and the ship disappeared into the distance in the blink of an eye.
“You stole a ship?” There wasn’t a sign of judgement or condescendence in his voice, only a small hint of wonder.
Lucas kicked back in his chair to support on the two back legs, growing his same stupid smile on his face. “Borrowed. We’re only borrowing it. At least until I find a Pokémon that can carry me across water. Besides, the owner was a crook, constantly smuggling herbal medicine from place to place. Not like he’d dare report to the police or anything.” He laughed at that.
The old man glanced back at the remaining energy root that was giving to him, but said nothing of it. He took a small sip of his cup once more. There was little left of his tea at this point while that of Lucas remained nearly untouched. “Young man.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and fidgeted with his cup. “I think I understand where you want to go. But you must know that that island only appears on a few rare days. You can’t just visit it whenever you’d like to. Unless you had some magical compass that could lead you to wherever you want to go.”
“Yeah I learnt that when I looked into it. That one library is full of books on strange islands.” The old man looked up to inspect the trainer once more. He didn’t seem like the type to spend his time in a library.
“Aaaaand,” the trainer added. “Tomorrow is one of the days it appears.”
The old man’s eyes grew. “How...how do you know that.”
“Oh, records and accounts and calculations and blablabla. All of that. The people in Pacifidlog were very helpful.
He tugged at his beard once more. The people in Pacifidlog Town did after all know about his legendary travels across the sea.
“And I thought that someone like you might enjoy sailing the sea one last time to visit such an island.” His smile grew again. “I can pay you in more energy root if you want.”
He contemplated the bargain for a moment, stroking his beard the entire time. Visiting Birth Island one more time was definitely something he’d want to do one more time and here the young man sat before him, handing him the opportunity. Finally though, he smiled warmly towards the young trainer and sipped the last of his tea. His voice bellowed outside as he called out. “Peeko, we’re setting sail, my darling!”
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Old 12-31-2022, 09:54 AM   #13
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New Year's, Several Years Ago

The dark blue of night had descended upon the city and its warmer lights. The crackle of fireworks could be heard amidst the buzzing of the city’s New Year’s Eve celebration. Lucas was dashing through its busy streets, eyes on the rooftops, when he barged into someone. He staggered and gave a surprised glance back at his fellow Fizzytopian.

“Hey buddy! Hell of a way to make an entrance.”



He didn't have time to bother excusing himself properly. His eyes glanced towards the sprinting shadow on the rooftops, then back to the man whom he gave a curt bow to, before dashing off again. Explanations would have to come later.

Lucas reared his head towards the roofs on the other side of the street. Scraps’ shadow wasn’t to be found. He looked behind him and saw his figure somersaulting across the shingles. The Lucario overtook his trainer. Lucas kicked up his pace once more, then faltered immediately thereafter. Tried as he might, and he tried obstinately this evening, he couldn’t match their speed. Best he could was to not lose sight of them for too long. Rags and Scraps would catch up to him first, Lucas would then join them after.

’If I can manage,’ he thought as he dwindled to a trot, gasping for breath. He came to a final stop. “No way,” he gasped loudly at no one, though a few heads turned warily to him and pulled their children closer for safety.

He took a few seconds of breath before making his next attempt. He had managed to keep his eyes on them thus far. Repeated attempts had made him accustomed to spotting their dark, blurry outlines among the dark, blurry sky. An effort that rewarded him when he figured out the chase was to occur haphazardly among the city’s rooftops rather than being a straight chase. Whenever either Rags or Scraps got close the figure would make a sharp turn for the gap provided by the other. The two had bickered and argued between them and their lack of cooperation was now costing them their prey.

Lucas spun down a corner and caught sight of Rags who was beelining towards his recent escapee. Lucas coned his hands around his mouth to yell, “Rags…pant…ease back…Scraps…” He stopped to gasp for air once more, leaning against a nearby streetlight. Rags had momentarily looked back at his trainer, but it was unclear whether he heard what was being shouted.

Lucas squinted at the disappearing shade, trying once again to discern its features. No use with the hood and robe. The figure of Rags caught up once more after which the mysterious shade double-backed, managing to duck below the view of Scraps and head in Lucas’ direction. Lucas kicked up the pace and sprinted through the crowd. He rushed past food stalls and kids with sparklers, nearing the canopies of the lower markets. The mysterious figure zipped across the street with an attempted leap on the canopies. And failed. He crashed through the roof and Lucas was sure he finally had him. Up ahead, Rags and Scraps were approaching for the ambush. Trinkets and tourist ornaments were scattered, and Lucas could see the shade clearer up close; his long filthy robe with a greyed hood covering his head.

A set of eyes pushed themselves out of the heap. Imitation jewellery scattered and broke as the figure heaved itself off the ground and shoved its elderly shopkeeper. Rags and Scraps had turned immediately to continue their chase. Lucas took a brief pause and turned his attention to the fallen shopkeeper.

“Scroundel! You!” She was yelling after the shade.

“Are you alright?” He helped her up.

“Oh bless you dear. Don’t mind me too much, please.” She raised a fist towards the alleyway. “It’s that damn hooligan who should be apologising in the first place.” She folded her arms and grunted. “Some people nowadays, don’t you agree?”

He didn’t have time to consider what she meant and gave a simple ‘Sure’. He turned and continued his chase.

“Hold on dearie,” the woman pulled him by his sleeve. Her strength surprised Lucas and he faltered a bit. “Don’t I know you?”

Lucas choked a bit. “No, I don’t think so ma’am.”

She frowned and scrutinised his face. “You’re Janet’s kid aren’t you?”

He had no idea what she was on about. “No ma ‘am. Now please, I‘m in a hurry.”

“Sure you are. I’d recognise the mug of Janet’s clan anywhere. Why it’s been a while now, hasn’t it?”

“Please ma’am.” He tried shaking her off but she somehow managed to keep her grip on him.

“I see, but of course.” She still held on. “Oh but how nice it was of you to help me off. Not many do nowadays. That said, you were the cause of this.”

“Ma’am!” he raised his voice and shook once more.

“Now don’t give me that. You admit when you’ve been caught. Janet must have done better in raising you than that.”

“I don’t know a Janet. Let go,” he grumbled through gritted teeth.

“Sure, sure. But let me give you a present. As a thank you and because it’s New Years after all.” She let him go to bend over and pick up the closest ornament she could find. “Here, this is perfect for this time of year is it not?” Lucas eyed the tangle of paper and cord with a puzzled expression. “A wonderfully unique gift is not?”

“Thank you ma’am.” He took the gift and tried to take off.

“No, you don’t,” she held on to him once more. ’What’s with this woman.’

“What you’re holding is a genuine wishmaker,” she poked an angry finger at it, “blessed by Jirachi itself. Seven wishes,” she held up her other hand with five fingers. “Most people would give a leg for just one. I give you seven and you run?”

He stammered but she continued her interruption. “Look,” she indicated towards the clock tower. “It’s almost midnight already.” She released her grip finally. Lucas didn’t try to slide away. “One makes seven wishes by midnight of the new year. Their personage is judged with each wish weighed against them. Only if a wish is deemed appropriate may it have a chance of being fulfilled.” She wagged a finger at him. “So no wishing for riches or women, you hear.”

“I..uh…” he wasn’t sure how to respond to that last bit.

The clock echoed a chime. The surrounding crowd gave a cheer and then there was a sudden drop into silence.

“Quickly now, dear,” she urged him on.
He wasn’t sure what to do. He quickly folded down one of the flaps and thought to himself, ’I wish that shade would stop running and face us.’

There were a few whoops when the tower echoed again. ’What else could he wish for?

“10!…” The crowd shouted.

“Don’t hesitate too long. Just wish for whatever pops in your head first.”

“9!…”

He folded down the second flap. ’I wish my Pokémon a strong upbringing.’

“8!…”

’And for their trainer to be strong as a result,’ he quickly folded the third.

“7!…”

’And… and,’ he couldn’t think of more.

“6!...”

He went for something innocuous. ’I wish for this to be over,’ and he folded the fourth.

“5!...”

“Oh come on, there must be more you’d want. Where’s your imagination?”

“4!...”

He repeated his last wish. ’I wish for the year to be over.’ He folded the fifth then quickly decided on folding the last two, muttering his last words in repeat.

“3!...”

“Sorry,” he handed over the wishmaker and took a jumping start down the street.

“2!...”

He twisted his neck back and forth in a dizzying fashion, eyeing building after building for his Pokémon. He must have lost them by now. He dishearteningly stopped running. He knew the general direction they went but he had lost them. He was sure of it.

“1!...”

A figure popped to his side. “Rags?” Just when the crowd was about to cheer, the Gallade held his trainer’s shoulder and Lucas felt the pull of the Teleport as they were whizzed away.

-

Lucas felt his stomach churn upon materializing. He, and many others like him, were obviously not made for Teleporting. He briefly surveyed his surroundings. In the distance he could hear the crowd erupting with an indistinct ‘Happy New Year’.

Still close to the city then. They were on some grassy knoll of sorts, but still close to the city. The park? Perhaps the outskirts. It didn’t matter, he realised. They caught him finally.

Though caught was a more than generous way to describe it. The figure stood but a mere few steps away from them, in silence. Something was off. Scraps was guarding him from a safe distance, ready to pounce if need be, while Rags stood close by. But the figure showed no sign of intending to run.

Lucas eyed his adversary anxiously. “Be ready you two.” The figure gave no indication of guarding himself.

“Gal gallade,” Rags took a stance.

“LUCAR!” Scraps yelled to not be outdone, taking the other flank.

The four remained as statues, eyeing each other quietly. “Are you going to explain yourself?” Lucas finally asked it. “You’ve been spying on us. You’ve been sabotaging our base trying to get in. You attacked White.” He almost lost his temper. “She’s the Slurpuff, in case you were wondering.”

“…”

“Don’t bother denying it, you were caught in the act.” ’Good thing Grey was there’ he recalled. The Beheeyem caught a glimpse of their intruder and later shared his vision with Lucas. It didn’t help much. “You have the exact same outfit as our intruder.” Lucas pointed at the hem of his robe, “right down to the sown-on patch.” It was a dirtied yellow, easy to miss, but Grey caught it in time. “What I don’t understand is why, or how you managed to get in undetected. White’s nose could detect any new scent that was approaching her. But you managed to sneak up on her?”

The figure still didn’t answer him. Fireworks whizzed far above their heads, exploding in multicoloured ashes. It felt like it was time. The figure clutched for his belt. Lucas, Rags and Scraps prepared themselves. A clipped Pokéball was torn and presented to the crew; an indication of battle. Lucas grinned. Things were finally about to get fun.

Their adversary’s arm reeled back, spun and threw the ball with unnecessary force against the dirt. It popped open instantly and zipped back to the stranger’s hand. White light had poured and coalesced instantly, though lingered in anticipation a little too long for anyone’s liking.

“Hacks!” The Haxorus craned its neck upon release.

“Ha,” Lucas exclaimed, “Scraps. Extemespeed, then Dragon Pulse.” The Lucario darted on command. He struck the Haxorus on the side who retaliated with a missed Slash of her own. Scraps disappeared as instantly as he came, then showed up on the Haxorus’ other side. Light blue energy charged between his two palms. The Haxorus lurched to intercept the attack and Scraps fired. Both hit one another.

An explosion that withered into smoke. The dragon remained obstinately in place while Scraps was spun across the ground. He recuperated without a moment’s hesitation but was obviously the worse for wear of the two.

’This could prove a problem,’ Lucas thought to himself. He grinned at his opponent then sized up the Haxorus for a weak point. Her slightly smaller scalp, the twist in her tusks and the length of her claws. He didn’t find one yet but something nagged at him about the features. He was noticing little discrepancies a little too easily, ones that were useless in battle but nonetheless-

“Sar?”

The Haxorus spun towards his former trainer, recognizing the words but not understanding.

No. He was wrong. The Haxorus may have looked similar but she wasn’t Sar. The Haxorus’ eyes glowed red as she charged into the Lucario with a Superpower. Scraps had too little time to react and his body skidded across the dirt.

Rags stepped in with a defiant cry. Two against one may be against his ideals but there was something off about the battle. He sensed it in his trainer. Lucas hesitated too long in giving Scraps his last orders. The Gallade might have to improvise his next few attacks.

The Gallade leapt from the Haxorus’ other side and descended into a flurry of Dual Chops. The dragon reeled back with a stupendous roar. Scraps, not wanting to be outdone, charged forward with his own attack. Foregoing the previous route of type advantage, he settled into a direct attack and placed two Force Palms on his opponent. The Haxorus doubled over in surprise and was momentarily done for.

The group cheered their victory. Lucas focused his attention back on the strange trainer. “We won. To the victor go the spoils, or so they say. So answer us.” The mysterious figure shook his head.

“No?” Lucas almost chuckled. “Come on now. Really? Please? Dragging this out will only tire all of us. Just give up and answer.”

The figure shook his head again. It crossed its arms in a defensive position then opened back up to reveal downsized Pokéballs between his fingers. Lucas’ eyes briefly widened in surprise but he held firm and bluffed confidence. “Tauros,” he said. “You’re just delaying the outcome. You saw what happened to your Haxorus. No need for a repeat.” The figure ignored him and scattered two Pokéballs across the knoll where they clicked open in sequence. One shade flew off before they could catch a glimpse, but the other remained to showcase their monstrous appearance.

“Gar!” The Pokémon barely left a pause between his roar and attack. Before they knew it, Scraps was dodging and parrying swipes from the Garchomp that had just appeared before them.

Rags was shaken but didn’t hesitate to jump back into battle if necessary. Two against two felt fairer. He felt a wisp behind him. Currents of air were raining down. Something was approaching from above. He looked up to find the source only too late. “Gal!” he called for his trainer.

Lucas screamed in pain and toppled over. Gnawing teeth, serrated teeth, teeth that were meant for biting through their prey, were cutting into his leg and dragging him towards the edge. In a panicked reaction Lucas kicked his other foot into the monster’s face. Repeatedly. He yelled out frantically and looked the Salamence in the eyes. A different kind of panic settled in.

“Sal!”

He was sure this time. The tiny specks in the sclera, and the slightly different hues between the irises. This was Sal, which meant the Haxorus might have been Sar after all.

Rags deftly delivered an Ice Punch to the Salamence’s face who immediately released his prey. The dragon gave a moan then swung her wings to lift herself. She circled their makeshift arena with a growl and landed beside the mysterious figure. Scraps, in his continuing battle, finally pushed off the Garchomp who was now retreating.

“Hai,” Lucas called out to his Garchomp. “Hai, is that you?” The Garchomp did little more than snarl. “Hai, what’s gotten into you? Why are you with him?” he indicated the hooded figure beside the Garchomp. Both he and the Salemence roared in response. Did they recognise him? Understand him even?

Lucas heard the soft click of Pokéballs hitting the ground. The figure had released more Pokémon. There was no doubt in Lucas’ mind. He saw a Lapras with teeth, a green Ekans and a few others.

“Why are you with him?” he was frantic, livid at their non-response to his questions. Rags and Scraps were worried about other matters. They looked around and saw their former allies surrounding them. This felt like a trap. Were they lured here on purpose?

The Gallade grabbed his trainer by the shoulder but he brushed it off immediately. “No. We’re not leaving without them. You!” he pointed at the figure. “I’ll be sure to make you regret this. Literally if I have to. Now what is this? Hypnosis? Poison? Clones?

“…”

“Answer.”

The figure still didn’t respond.

“Answer!” He was getting fed up of the silence. Someone was going to answer him.

The figure extended an arm. Nothing was said but his Pokémon understood perfectly and descended on Lucas and his team at once.

The Garchomp camer up front, arms slicing in the air as he advanced haphazardly on Lucas. Scraps dug in from the side with a kick to knock him off balance. The Salamence was circling from the air while her other teammates leapt towards Lucas, ignoring their other opponents entirely. Rags bounced from one opponent to another, giving each a big enough hit to move them off course. They were light blows but it was all he could do in this outmatched assault on his trainer.

Scraps gave a kick to the Garchomp to force both off them back. The Lucario landed deftly beside his ally Gallade. The Salamence took this moment to strike. A glow of impending fire emerged in her throat as she descended straight down towards Lucas. There was no easy escape, but he refused to give up.

“Gal!” Rags held his trainer firmly by the shoulder, with Scraps holding his.

“No!” Lucas shouted, but he already felt the pull.

The three vanished from the knoll and the Salamence’s fire scorched nothing but grass.

It was a rush job; a spur-of-the-moment Teleport. They weren’t sure where they’d land but neither would their enemy. One thing they knew though was that they had experienced loss, in more ways than one.
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