“What are you doing you stupid bird!?” A familiar boy shouts breathlessly as he skids to a stop from a dead sprint. “You’re burning the grass! And why are you atta–” “Shut up! Listen!” Combusken shouts back as he turns fully to face his partner, still in a combat stance, and points behind him. “That’s Happiny!” The words bring the boy up short, blinking rapidly, then looking back at Tanya with suddenly interested eyes. “Wait… her? The ‘mon from your nursery that you won't shut up abo–” He’s interrupted by a loud squawk “Shhh– Shut! Ye– n–” He stutters, turning his back completely on Tanya and flaring brighter. “The one you met! Who I mentioned once!” There’s a look of amazed realization crossing the trainer’s face, but as he opens his mouth to respond he’s interrupted. “Um…” Amelia calls out hesitantly, Taillow on her shoulder flaring his feathers defensively and her hand at the pokeballs on her hip. “Is everything–” “You.” The red haired trainer interrupts, stomping closer. “You’re the ‘mon’s partner? I challenge you to a battle, what’s the wager?” The nurse in training looks caught flat footed by the challenge, stammering for a second. “Well I– I dont– I was actually just about to–” “No. We’re fighting, how much?” He says, walking past her, stepping into one of the trainer boxes of the nearest public arena and turning to face her again with a smirk. “If you think you’re gonna lose that badly I’ll give you two to one odds on the wager. I already got the heat badge, so I just assumed you had gotten at least one.” There’s a beat of silence as the words register, then Amelia narrows her eyes. “No. We’ll do a normal bet. How does thirty five hundred sound?” “Done.” He responds as Combusken steps into the trainer box beside him. Only now, as she starts walking toward the opposite trainer box, does Amelia freeze and look back at her partner sheepishly. “It’s fine.” Tanya interrupts, brushing past, her eyes never leaving the chicken’s. “The bird wouldn't leave us alone any other way.” It’ll also be a good test of their improved communication protocol, which they’ve been theorycrafting since Wattson. Mostly on Amelia’s part, trying to filter everything for its usefulness and simplify it to a single word, and this will be the first time using it in a fight Tanya knows will be on relatively equal footing. Combusken puffs his feathers indignantly at Tanya’s words as she steps into the other box, but as his feathers begin to flicker with tongues of flame at the edges and he steps forward, a hand presses onto his shoulder. “Wait.” The trainer, who’d never introduced himself, says calmly as he grabs one of the two pokeballs from his hip. “Remember the deal?” Combusken’s eyes widen. “Training your self control?” “But…” The ‘mon trails off, eyes looking desperately between Tanya, his trainer, and the pokeball. “But it’s…” His words devolve into an irritated grumble, his eyes locking onto his partner’s and staring up at him as if sizing the human up. In the silence, Tanya sees Amelia lean closer out the corner of her eye. “He’s being very rude.” She mutters. “Do you know them?” Tanya blinks, then considers how to answer for a moment. “Just Combusken. He’s from my batch at the hospital, you’ve met before.” There’s a moment of silence, Amelia presumably scanning her memory for the single interaction that they’d had, where he immediately tried to attack her. “Oh him.” She says after a moment. Any further conversation is halted as Combusken drops his gaze, crosses his arms, and ruffles the feathers around his neck as he steps back from the edge of the box. Muttering something too quietly to hear across the space separating them. Tanya gives a soft huff of surprise at the result, she’d been expecting the chicken to ignore whatever agreement he’d formed with his partner, instead there's nothing but begrudging compliance. He certainly wouldn't have done that the last time she saw him. Instead, the still unnamed trainer straightens up and holds out a pokeball in challenge, opens his mouth to shout something, then seems to freeze where he stands. “What’s your name again?” “...Amelia” She says, unimpressed, “and you?” “Orwel.” He says, blinking as if seeing his opponent for the first time, glancing at her hair. “Wait, aren't you a–” “Now who’s stalling?” Amelia interrupts with a glare, grabbing Tanya’s pokeball from her hip. “You backing out?” Orwel widens his stance. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novel•fire.net “Wh– I… Well alright then!” He growls, baring his teeth across the dirt. “Amelia, our eyes have met! Send out your partner! Go Machop!” “Chansey!” She responds, voice twisting in surprise in the last syllable as their opponent sends out a ‘mon other than Combusken. Tanya’s surprised too, glancing at her Rival as he seems to be straining every muscle in his body to not leap into the arena as an unfamiliar grey ‘mon fades into view with a few disoriented blinks. But soon his eyes lock to hers, and she snaps to focus as he gets into a fighting stance. Close high guard, reminiscent of some kind of boxing posture. Trying to be light on his feet, he begins to approach in a hopping stutter-step as Tanya plods toward him with much simpler and slower footwork. He’s likely somewhat strong if he has proficiency at a martial art, as it’s clear his combat style has structure. She’s not extremely familiar with methods of hand to hand combat beyond some basic aerial CQC, but she’d assume from vague knowledge of boxing that he’s going to focus on attacking with the upper body, so she’ll need to keep that in mind. As he closes in, the ‘mon quickly punches the air as if to warm himself up, then stumbles as the punches throw him off balance and disrupts his rhythm. He recovers, and a more precise plan begins to form. Tanya grips the dirt in front of Machop as raises his foot to take another step, but he sees the faintly glowing earth in time and avoids it, though he has to put himself off balance as a consequence. He tries to bounce the other way to correct his center of gravity, then gravity is multiplied all around, and he’s only put further off balance with a stumble. But even off balance he continues his attack, getting closer with a burst of speed, he plants a leg in the dirt, stabilizes, then launches himself toward her with a surprise heavy punch that whistles as it shoots through the air toward her. Then embeds itself into her bulk with barely a ripple. Tanya blinks as she glances down at the arm, buried halfway to the elbow in her body. She’d overestimated the threat here. Machop looks similarly surprised, but he snaps back to reality at his trainer’s call of ‘backstep!’ and leaps backward. Coming to a stop he gets back into his boxing posture, but he seems hesitant to charge back in, unsure of what to do. “Machop keep moving! Rock smash!” Orwel calls, commands that are quickly obeyed as the ‘mon approaches again, putting more effort into footwork and unpredictable movement. Tanya continues her measured approach, crossing the halfway point of the ring. Rock smash, from the name she’d assume it’s a relatively strong roc– –fighting type move. Meaning she should probably try to avoid getting hit with this one, doubly so with the typing advantage. As her opponent sidesteps forward, her eyes calmly track him as he does, flaring purple, he slows and stains as a zone of gravity barely larger than himself envelops and tracks him. Entering his final approach, the ‘mon’s fists begin to emit wisps of white energy as it winds up into a massively telegraphed punch. Then a clump of dirt flings from the side, smashes into his fist just as he launches the attack, and all the energy hits nothing but empty air as Tanya steps to the side to prevent a glancing blow. Machop yelps as he stumbles forward, completely losing his footing in the enhanced gravity, but before he can fall flat to the floor, his descent is halted. By Tanya gripping one of his flailing arms. A few seconds later the ‘mon is groaning on the floor, Tanya staring down as she releases his arm. That fight was… much slower than she’s used to. Downright leisurely with the amount of time she had to consider her actions. Machop disappears from his crater in a flash of red, and Tanya’s eyes snap to her Rival as the air suddenly feels uncomfortably hot. Amelia says something and it’s almost discarded, but the ‘mon catches herself and focuses in, to break the habit if nothing else. It’d not been important, just a suggestion to use soft boiled, so Tanya waves her down without looking back. Until she masters that move it’s a massive energy sink, and Machop barely dealt any damage. She’ll need that energy more to push her body faster and shield against further damage. She takes a step back, giving herself a fraction of a second longer to react. Especially with a type disadvantage. Combusken looks up at his trainer, shivering with constrained energy. The boy grins as he reclips his ball, then throws his arm out and points across the dirt. There’s a blur. Then a clump of dirt shoots up to Tanya’s left, predicting and deflecting a leaping kick as her Rival crosses the distance in less than a second. She counters, creating a zone of gravity around herself, simplified equations allowing it to appear in a fraction of the time. The accelerated drop doesn't surprise him, using the increased downward force like a spring, he launches back from the other direction with another kick. Dodging, she jumps to the side then compresses bulk to pull away from followup attack as he flies past. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The abrupt change in direction has slowed him down, capitalize. The chicken plants a single leg onto the ground and uses it to redirect his momentum upward, dodging two clumps of earth that fly beneath him, breaking them apart with another sweeping kick as they abruptly change direction to track him. Then the gravity zone decouples from Tanya, enveloping him with a burst of concentration as she pulls an egg from her pouch and pours energy inside. Remembering just in time to keep it at a low yield to avoid trouble with the city. Combusken is less prepared for the gravity so high in the air, squawking as the sudden acceleration disrupts a forming attack and the growing glow in his throat dissipates into exhaled smoke. He recovers, eyes tracking the approaching egg and twisting around with a kick to destroy the projectile. The resulting explosion is disappointing, barely stronger than a hand grenade, the smoke isn't even thick enough to obscure Combusken being sent tumbling toward the edge of the arena. Tanya charges to close the gap as her opponent lands, pulling another egg from her pouch as soon as it appears. Combusken crouches into a launch and, with a flare of heat, burns brighter and shoots forward faster. She grunts in pain as a kick lands with a sizzling thud before he disappears again, moving around in preparation for another attack almost too quickly to properly track. But she knows him. In different shapes admittedly, but she’s fought this fight countless times before. So she knows what he’s going to do next. The tip of a claw whistles by, hitting nothing but air. He stumbles on the landing as the laws of physics shift abruptly, allowing Tanya to get a grapple hold on one of his arms, the same trick that worked on her previous opponent. But this time, as Tanya slams him into the ground and begins lifting him again, Combusken manages a heavy kick to the joint of her arm and forces himself from her grip. He lands on his feet with a stagger and continues the assault. Telekinetic dirt in his path is thrown upward, redirecting and preventing more speed, narrowing his options. Combusken moves to suggest retreat to gather more speed, but she knows it’s a feint, he’s going to jump back in. Right into another egg– As soon as the first syllable leaves his trainer’s lips Combusken completely changes tactics. Leaping backward in ernest, his throat bulges and begins to glow from within, followed by a deluge of fire. Tanya isn't fast enough to dodge the unexpected attack. Caught off guard, she can only shield her eyes as the flames envelop her and the world becomes red. It hurts, almost like a strong sandstorm ripping at her skin with heat that sticks to her. It's not unbearably painful, but certainly not pleasant. No, the main issue is the fact she can't see anything. “Go southeast!” Amelia calls from behind, and jumping blindly to the side to get away from the fire, it takes a second for the flames to clear and for her to realize she’s out. “Double kick!” The opposing trainer screams, and Tanya’s forced to try and find her opponent again despite tongues of flame still flickering across her body Before she can lock on, pain erupts from her left side, a pain that comes from two levels. Both physical and metaphysical, as if the blow was antithetical to the energy that saturates her body as it punches through her defenses like they’re not there. She staggers, eyes finally finding a lock as Combusken smoothly transitions his first white tinged kick into a second, but can do little more and brace herself for– It hits her egg, and while it still hurts, the reinforced shell absorbs the bulk of the initial force. Better still it seems to hurther opponent as he squawks and stumbles back, a reaction that she knows will result in him performing another flame charge to– “Flamethrower!” Orwel shouts, continuing as Combusken obeys before he even gets the first word out. “Don't let her see!” Combusken obeys, but this time Tanya’s more prepared, and as the first flickers of flame leave his mouth he’s forced to dodge an egg bomb that flies toward his head. But he’s unprepared for the egg changing directions mid air behind him, the explosion knocking him forward. Tanya takes a moment to breathe and assess as Combusken turns his uncontrolled tumble into a roll and staggers to his feet. They’re just as close as the last time they fought, new tricks, but all the same. As it stands they’re both hurt, and while her Rival hasn't taken the bulk of the blows even the weak egg bombs seem to have dealt significant damage. She’s not too much better, the flames and blunt force delivered at such speed can't be ignored, she can feel herself slowing down. Then Combusken’s eyes snap to hers as he flares with yet more heat, more power, and he disappears into a flaming blur. He appears at her side, leg already swinging for another kick, and Tanya steps into the blow for a grapple. …he’s still predictab– “Combusken!” The trainer calls, power saturating his voice. Tanya pushes her face out of the grass and dirt, blinking several times as she tries to figure out what happened. Looking around, she realizes that she’s not in the dirt of the arena and, looking back, can see the chicken standing in the center of the arena, staring at her with a surprised expression. “...four …five! Ring out!” Orwell calls giddily, smirking at Amelia as the words seem to snap her back to reality as Tanya climbs to her feet with a wince. “Right! Taillow!” She calls, hesitating as she reaches for Tanya’s pokeball, then switching balls and releasing a panicked looking Taillow into the field. “Get height!” Combusken twitches as his trainer calls and order to him too, looking around the arena as if confused as Taillow squawks in fear. “Are you crazy!? I can't– Ah!” He screams, flinging himself off the ground as quickly as possible as Combusken’s eyes lock on to his new opponent. Tanya softly groans in pain as she pulls herself to her feet, brushing dirt and grass off of herself as she begins trudging back toward the arena. Ring out, she’d severely misjudged the strength of that last attack, somehow. The ‘mon winces as she comes to a stop close to her partner, drawing power from her core to soft boil an egg for herself. The most… irritating part is the fact that she’s not out of energy or unconscious right now, meaning there were still things she could have done to win. A zone of gravity around herself might have given her enough weight to not fly as far, or better bracing herself against the kick, it was a lapse in her information gathering skills that allowed the attack to surprise her. Preventing him from getting the attack off in the first place, she knows how he moves, the vector and timing of the attack didn't surprise her. Tanya sighs in relief as a pink ghostly egg sinks into her flesh and the love within attacks the injuries with methodical efficiency. This won't happen again. Refocusing on the fight, Tanya realizes –to her surprise– that Taillow is still flying around. Devoted almost entirely to dodging repeated flamethrowers admittedly, but not getting hit. “Double team!” Amelia calls, and sure enough the ‘mon pauses in the frantic flapping of wings to focus, then shimmering double images appear and disappear for split seconds with every wingflap, appearing to move in slightly different directions. Almost immediately Combusken’s flamethrowers stop having as much accuracy as the false positives mess with his reflexes and predictive abilities. “Gah! Stop that!” The ‘mon shouts with a smoky exhale. Taillow laughs between wing beats, adding a flourish to his flight as he swoops around a gout of flame. “Aw what’s the matter!? Poor flightless chick can't hit me?” Combusken stops breathing fire, glowing brighter as he stares up at his opponent with pure rage. “I’ll show you flightless!” He screams as he crouches down in preparation to jump. “No Combusken! Flamethrower!” Orwel shouts, but he goes ignored as his partner leaps into the air at the flying ‘mon. Taillow dodges easily, laughing harder as he falls to the ground and tries again to equal success. Amelia, seeing her advantage, calls out. “Try to hit him from behind when he starts to fall!” Unfortunately for Taillow, Combusken’s third attempt is much more successful, managing to predict his attack vector through the double team and sending the ‘mon tumbling into the ground with a well placed axe kick. Then, as the ‘mon tried to take flight again, he’s enveloped in a stream of fire as Combusken falls to the ground. Once the smoke clears it reveals a thoroughly soot covered Taillow groaning in the dirt. “Taillow?” Amelia calls, then sighs and pulls out her pokeball and recalls her partner before looking at her fellow trainer with a slightly trained smile. “Congradulations.” Orwel grins and pumps his fist. “Yes! Victory!” He cheers. Combusken looks less happy. “Wait… we’re not done!” He shouts, looking around at everyone’s faces. “I barely got to fight–” He cuts himself off when Amelia pulls out her wallet as she steps into the arena and starts counting off bills as Orwel does the same. She glances at Tanya as she moves to follow. “Can you heal right now?” She mutters, looking up at the other trainer with a professional smile after Tanya nods in an affirmative. “Here’s the money. Now. Shall we heal your Pokémon?” The trainer blinks rapidly, as if he’d been abruptly forced to switch mental gears. “Shall we heal your Pokémon?” Amelia interrupts with even greater professional detachment, straightening her clothes. “...Sure?” He half asks after a pause, handing over Machop’s pokeball as if confused. “Double or nothing! The first gym was weak! And– and– we didn't win for real!” Combusken cries out as Tanya steps forward and tosses a weightless pink egg at him. “Chansey’s still conscious! We gotta go again!” Amelia glances at the screaming chicken questioningly, then to her partner as the ‘mon while tosses more healing at Machop’s pokeball, then Taillow’s after she sees it easily sink into the first ball. Tanya sighs, answering the implied question. “Combusken doesn't think the victory is authentic, so he wants to go again.” Amelia’s face lights up in understanding and smiles at Combusken. “Oh don't worry Combusken, you won fair and square. But we’ve got to go, and aren't you here to fight the gym?” Both ‘mon and trainer have their faces twist into an expression of embarrassed realization that look eerily similar to the other, and Orwel’s cheeks gain a faint tinge of red. “Y-yea! Of coursewe are! I didn't forget!” He stammers, roughly shoving his wallet into a pocket. “I just knew this gym would be easy!” Combusken doesn't look mollified. “But– I–” He tries, looking from his trainer, to Amelia, to Tanya, then quickly to the ground. Amelia, face still mostly wearing the mask of professional friendlyness, has the corner of her mouth quirk upward slightly at the two. “Well, I’d recommend checking in with a pokecenter before challenging the gym, best of luck, but we’ve got to go.” She says, handing back the other trainer’s pokeball. “Thank you for waiting. We've restored your Pokémon to full health. We hope to see you again!” “Oh– uhh…” Orwel stammers. “...Thank you Nurse Joy?” Amelia doesn't respond, rote speech concluded, she turns on her heel and begins walking toward the exit with Tanya alongside. But as soon as her face leaves Owen’s eyeline, the professional mask drops to reveal an expression of pure focus, eyes darting around and fingers twitching restlessly beneath a furrowed brow. “Alright help me break this fight down, things were moving so fast with Combusken that I couldn't help, and I’m not waiting until after the evening shift for a writeup. I need to know now.” Tanya considers arguing the point, on the advantages of proper procedure, but concludes her statements would be received… poorly. “At least write an abbreviated summary until we get on the train.” Lightly stepping off the platform they’d had to change trains in and onto the other line, Tayna glances over at her partner as she continues to discuss every aspect of the fight with an overwhelmed Taillow, only given a reprieve every time she breathes. She’d been surprised at how… energetic Amelia gets when breaking down fights, the loss more so as every pause, decision, and observation is interrogated by the trainer, especially those made by Amelia herself. So absorbed in her discussion, Tanya suspects she didn't notice who’d followed them between trains. The ‘mon carefully casts her eyes about the space, keeping the targets of her observation in view without giving away her intentions. Five people, male, young, loud. They shove, shout, and banter with each other, taking up significantly more space than polite. This behavior has everyone else on the train glancing at them with the extremely familiar mixture of discomfort and offence customary to those found violating the social contract. But their conduct is not what draws Tanya’s attention. It’s the fact that the boys are all wearing red. It’s not extreme, a shirt underneath a hoodie, socks, a wristband, but they’re all the exact same shade, worn so the colors have prominence despite the small surface area. Tanya looks away fully. At least that’s what they want to be perceived as. She’s never had to deal with the peacetime criminal element very much in any life, soldiers, looters, resistance cells, even terrorists, but never gangs. Her only reference point for their culture and methods are from mafia shows she’d not seen in a very long time. Even still, she has to think these children are, at most, groupies to the actual enterprise. The uniforms make a certain amount of sense if she squints, she could at least understand the argument that it’s truly the best branding an organization could ask for. But she can't believe full blooded members would be so obvious when not in uniform. The boys get off the train at the stop before Tanya’s, and the sighting is carefully filed away in her mind but otherwise not considered further.