Show-Off: Chapter 35 posted 22/11

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

No, Eli

Oscar is sickening. Actually, no, he's just gone mad. He lost his job, his house, everything, yes, but to start killing people - that's a low way to live.

I loved how you portraited the 'small love' between Jasmine and Morty in the beginning and than totally ripped it with the gun. Cool.

Chuck eh, most interesting.

Keep it up!

[PancaKe]

OKAY HERE I GO

- I should be in bed, because in 6 hours I have work.

- I thought that the Jasmine Morty thing was moving nicely. I think a few more chapters of buildup for romance would have done nicely. I know they only started working together a few arcs ago, but I think that it would have helped build them up to this point of separation.

- I'm interested to see how you carry out the effects of Jasmine's actions in the next few arc's on Morty. I think character consistency is so hard to maintain when you're posting a chapter every two weeks or so.. I can imagine that it must be difficult to keep track. So I am curious to see how you do it!

- Quite a lot has happened here. I'm a bit concerned that Chuck is working with Oscar, but I think it was a good twist. I mean, originally didn't Milo want to help Chuck with the reclassification, and now Milo is just wandering around Johto with people after him it seems... it's nice to tie back into the underlying plotline.

- I just can't see how this will be resolved and finished though. I mean, usually I can try and pick the ending, but I feel blind here! It's marvellous.

- Mr Mitchellson is a bit weird, I can't pinpoint his personality at all though.

- Did Oscar really need to kill Eli?

- Overall, an enjoyable read. Quite a lot happened, it all felt very fast paced but I guess that's how the arc works

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Poor Eli! Does Oscar realise what he's done? See my reply to Pancake for a more in-depth approach to Oscar's motives. He truly has no way back now. I'm glad you liked seeing Chuck - more on him in future chaps!

And Jorty (Jasmine/Morty) seems somewhat in danger!


Pancake: Hey! Yea, at the moment, Morty and Jasmine haven't been explicit enough for them to know how the other feels, so this has been a huge blow for Jasmine. Obviously I wanted to highlight that Jasmine has been doing this job for a while, and despite her shy personality, she does what she has to. Morty hasn't seen that side of her - is it a side he wants to see? The poor soul considers the impact that Mr Mitchelson's organisation is having on Jasmine, and maybe he's scared the same thing happens to him.

Chuck and Oscar collaborating is a bit weird, no? But to refer to your point, see below:
-Chuck lost his job as Cianwood Gym Leader.
-He asked Milo to see if Mr Mitchelson could help get him a job.
-Milo got distracted, and subsequently doesn't have a phone on him anyway.
-Oscar wanted to recruit Milo into the Apricorn Guild and use him to infiltrate Mitchelson Enterprises.
-Oscar has also lost his job as Gym Leader.

For Chuck and Oscar to be working together, it suggests that Chuck might have told Oscar to get Milo on his side. Maybe Chuck felt let down by Milo not helping him, and sought to find another way to use the boy's influence?

Regarding the ending...I have a good idea of what happens. I have the final scene planned for the fic, and it's something that brings me immense joy to re-read. How we get there, however, is the really exciting part. To me, the fic doesn't seem as scattered and crazy in later parts.

I try to keep Mr Mitchelson somewhat enigmatic; he was heard of but not seen for so long, and I think he is a smart man who is always thinking 5 steps ahead. He has a seat on the Johto League Council so he is very influencial, very powerful. But distant, as well. Meredith is the over emotional one.

I think it's really interesting that you mentioned Oscar killing Eli. It was the worst decision he could have made - now the police will be after him. I wanted to show, however, that in that moment, Oscar's whole world came crashing down. His plot to get Milo in the Guild was for the benefit of Azalea Town, essentially. And when it went wrong, he was imprisoned in his own house. I imagine that stung, and all Oscar wanted to do was get out and run from Azalea. Seeing Eli trapped, helpless, powerless after he attacked Oscar caused him to do the unthinkable and kill him.

But where does Oscar go next?



Chapter 22 is on its way, I promise! From July 14th-August 16th I am travelling in Vietnam, Bangkok, Laos, Cambodia etc, so it'll be four weeks of me not writing! I will definitely get this chapter up before then, and hopefully the next part of The Golden Arc.

Ch22 takes place on the road to Violet City. The Golden Arc is also loosely based around the Ruins of Alph.

Violet City is....an interesting place. I'm really excited to write about it! I'll keep my lips sealed, since I'd hate to ruin anything. A few old characters appear, and a couple of new ones also star.

[Sike Saner]

Wow. o_o Showing what kinds of effects this line of work has had on Jasmine made for quite an intense chapter indeed. The scene involving her and Oscar = memorable stuff.

Another memorable aspect of the chapter: this "oh snap" moment from the scene where she was talking to Mr. Mitchelson:

“Just because William will never be reunited with his Pokemon, that doesn’t mean other people have to suffer,” Jasmine said, standing up. She stared at Mr Mitchelson, whose eyes widened at the mention of his eldest son. “I think that’s very cold.”

And damn, poor Eli.

[Chris 2.1]

Hi guys!

Been a bit absent since I've spent the last 5 weeks in South East Asia. Now I'm back and will be working on the next chapter.

We're actually skipping the 'on the road' chapter between Azalea and Violet. It hasn't been working. So the next chapter takes place as Milo and Jake arrive in Violet City...

Thanks!

[Chris 2.1]

Guys! So sorry for the delay. I'm living in London now and have zero time to myself. However I did manage to finish the first part of the Violet City arc, and here it is!

Initially I had planned for there to be a chapter where Milo and Jake are driving on the road to Violet, but it wasn't working, and made no sense. So we're jumping right into the deep end here!

PREVIOUSLY:

Milo and Jake fled Azalea Town after Oscar showed his true colours. Kind Cecilia gave them her car and the two sped off into the night.

Milo: Medicham, Croconaw, Scyther, Magnemite
Jake: Parasect, Wingull, Ditto

Show-Off
-XXII-
Electric Emerald

The Violet City gym was a proud building. It was a stone structure, tall and round, with holes carved in the sides dotted at various points. It functioned as an aviary, with many species of birds sweeping in to nest in the tower at night. Species of Noctowl glided from the sanctuary to hunt in the evening, praying on the Bellsprout that populated the outer areas or, if they were lucky, a juicy Rattata.

Within the inner confines of the building was the actual gym. Stone steps curved around the interior, linking different floors where trainers raised their Pokemon. The gym leader waited at the top, for any trainer bold enough to try.

His foot reaching the final step, Milo Mitchelson took a deep breath as he reached the top floor. Looking up, he saw that the building had no roof; the bright sun and the many clouds hovered above him. The air was crisp and delicious here; downstairs had been stuffier.

“Welcome to Violet City Gym,” said a calm voice. As a man walked forward onto the circular arena, Milo heard the wheezing gasps behind him that told him Andrew had arrived at the top. Milo, despite being old enough to travel by himself, was being escorted around Johto by one of the men who worked for his family. Andrew had been a close friend of Milo’s brother, William, and was not on close terms with his family. At a young age, Andrew began doing odd jobs for the family, and it soon led into a job.

His official title as a worker for the Mitchelson family was not clear. Andrew did admin work for Mr Mitchelson’s companies, he kept the house in order, and did everything to keep Meredith and Mia happy. If Meredith needed to be in Blackthorn City for a fashion event or to the Seafoam Islands for a holiday, Andrew would sort it. If Mia wanted a pair of designer shoes from Celadon city, Andrew would fly her to the picturesque city and let her indulge in something with an extravagant heel. In this case, Andrew was driving Milo around Johto.

They had not gone far. From a young age, Milo had trained at Cianwood Gym, but before he began his journey, he had been sent to Violet City, where he had enrolled in some theory courses at the local prep school. Now, with exams passed, Milo and his small team of Pokemon were ready to tackle their first gym.

“My name is Keadis,” said the man, extending a hand. Milo looked at the man’s spindly fingers before he gripped them with his own; a quick shake, and he drew back.

“Milo Mitchelson,” said Milo.

“And this is your…first gym?” Keadis asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I can beat you,” Milo said. “I have a secret weapon.”

Keadis smiled.

“An electric Pokemon, perhaps?” he said, smiling. Milo’s reaction seemed to answer his question. “Oh-ho! Milo, people come to my gym thinking they can zap my bird Pokemon with an electric attack or two. Those who I defeat in battle often return with a chip on their shoulder and a Voltorb under their arm. Are you going to be like that?”

“Just start the match,” Milo said. “And find out.”

The man gave a gentle nod.

“Two Pokemon each.”

Milo nodded; a brief, subtle nod more to himself than anything else. He knew his first Pokemon - it was obvious. But his second?

“Pidgeotto!” Keadis roared, throwing the ball into the air. It burst open and a handsome beige bird tore from the bright light. Wings spread, the creature flied at an impressive speed, sweeping along the circular arena and screeching.

“Okay,” Milo said, clutching the smooth, cold Pokeball in his hand. He could already feel a stinging jolt among the metal sphere, and threw the ball onto the arena. “Elekid!”

Giving a nasal grunt was Milo’s recent capture, a stout, yellow Pokemon with black stripes on its belly. It may not have been the largest Pokemon, but Elekid acted as if he could move mountains with a swipe of his stubby claws. He watched the Pidgeotto in the sky intently, perhaps wondering how best to zap it.

“Let me tell you how this is going to end,” Keadis said, folding his arms as Pidgeotto prepared to strike.

*

It was only now, as the forest path grew illuminated with city lights, that Milo’s eyes began to stop stinging. Clutching the steering wheel of Cecilia’s car, his foot kept a steady press on the accelerator as the vehicle made its way towards the bright lights of Violet City. Milo’s body odour lingered on the air, circulating in the stuffy car; the windows did not wind down. Jake was fast asleep next to Milo, his face pressed against the window.

They had driven all day, speeding along the uneven track that led to Violet City. Following their escape from Azalea Town, Milo had driven the car over the Union Valley, a large, winding trail that went over the dangerous caverns splitting Azalea town from Route 32. While the boys were fearful that Oscar may follow them, something about the quiet, undisturbed landscape of the route was relaxing. It was empty of trainers and Pokemon, with only a few birds in the trees.

The evening was setting in as they began to arrive on the outskirts of Violet City. The first thing Milo noticed was how well lit the city was; buildings and landmarks were dotted with pretty lights that gave the city a certain verve. Milo nudged Jake awake, asking him to keep his eyes peeled for a hotel, preferably one with a car park located in it. After winning the Azalea contest, Milo had enough money for the pair to get a nice hotel, but they did need to think about getting more money to finance their journey.

Soon, the boys were unpacking their bags in their room at the Violet Phoenix Hotel. It was in downtown Violet City - a district full of loud bars, lavish restaurants and quirky coffee shops. As Milo propped up the guitar against the wall - briefly recalling the travelling family who left it in his possession - he looked out the window at the bustling cosmopolitan city.

“Lively,” Jake noted.

“Yea,” replied Milo. He wished he could elaborate; tell Jake a story from when he first came here to earn a gym badge. But he was too tired; mentally exhausted.

“Should we go for a drink? Maybe a nightclub?” Jake said, the sleep having roused energy within him. He was thinking fondly of freshening up in the shower and putting on some new clothes, ready to hit the town. His thoughts were ruptured, however, when he heard a long, rattling groan.

Milo was fast asleep on the bed, fully clothed. Jake’s expression softened at the sight of his companion, exhausted from such a long day. Jake made as little noise as possible as he crept to the bottom of Milo’s bed. With nimble fingers he unlaced the boys trainers, loosening the tongue and gently pulling his shoes off. As Jake set them down at the edge of the bed, he cast another look at Milo, and let out a sigh.

*

After a long, undisturbed sleep and a hearty breakfast at their hotel, Milo and Jake found themselves soaking up the atmosphere in Violet City. It was by no means a warm day, for there were many clouds clogging up the bright pastel sky, and it seemed the t-shirts and flip flops that Milo had sported earlier on his travels would not suffice in this city. Today, he wore his trainers and a thick varsity jumper.

“We need to find this Falkner guy,” Milo said. The two had passed an upmarket bistro, making their eyes bulge and their mouths water. “Kurt said he would protect us.”

“How are we supposed to find him?” Jake asked.

“We’ll ask around,” Milo replied. “That’s all we can do, isn’t it?”

Jake agreed, and together they explored Violet City. They left West Violet and headed towards the less cosmopolitan area in the east. Here were many of the older buildings, and the original heart of the city. Among the popular sights were Sprout Tower, the Violet City Gym and the famous Violet Academy, the most prestigious university in the Tohjo area.

Milo made the rather selfish decision to head to the gym; he felt that Magnemite and Scyther were due for some intensive training, especially after Oscar had suddenly turned on them. He was also keen for Jake to properly train his Pokemon, so that the pair would be more prepared in the future.

“I wonder what the Violet City Gym is like under the Reclassification,” Jake said.

“I hope Oscar isn’t on his way to stir things up,” Milo said.

“It used to be a flying gym, right?”

“Yea, yea,” Milo said. “It was my first gym.”

Soon, they arrived at Violet City Gym. The old, stone tower was an impressive sight, nestled among the verdant flora in the old district. But something was different. The area around the tower was filled with portable cabins - four rectangular buildings that looked to have been installed around the base of the gym. People were shuffling around inside, computers were set up and a small satellite dish atop one cabin seemed to be receiving signals.

“What’s this?” Jake asked.

Milo said nothing, for he had absolutely no idea. The cabins were surrounding the gym, and were thus blocking the entrance. Milo saw an irritable man walk out the front door of the main cabin and descend down the small set of steps. He looked to be nearing forty, and was trying to smarten a rather casual shirt. It didn’t work.

“Excuse me?” Milo said.

“Yes?” the man said, seeing the boys. “What is it?”

“What’s happened to Violet City Gym?”

“It’s closed,” the man replied, lingering somewhat. “Ish.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” came Milo’s response. The man didn’t seem to want to elaborate, but he was clearly a man of importance, and knew the answer to Milo’s question. He gave his tired eyes a rub and drew a deep breath.

“The Gym Leader is missing,” he said, each word causing him an irritable pain. “My name is Mark Beaumont, I’m here as the Senior Task Manager of the Johto League’s Operations Division. The newly appointed Gym Leader is not spending any time in the gym, and we have been forced to cordon off the Gym until the gym leader, and a suitable replacement, can be found.”

“That doesn’t sound like Keadis,” Milo mentioned. He recalled the gym leader as a proud man, one who would never shirk responsibility. At his remark, Mark Beaumont spoke.

“It’s not Keadis,” he said plainly. “Keadis died.”

“He’s dead?” Milo asked in alarm. “When?”

“Oh, about three months ago.” He seemed to find the old news somewhat uninteresting.

“Oh my god,” Milo said. Flashes of the man appeared before his eyes; this was the man who he won his first Johto badge from. A man who had taught him much about Pokemon and the art of battles. To hear he was dead was quite a shock - to find out so late made it even worse, almost as if Milo had been ignorant of such important news.

“Yes, terrible news,” said Mark Beaumont. “It was especially tragic as Keadis had been planned to stay on and manage Violet City Gym after the Reclassification. The Board of Directors were very happy with Keadis and wanted a Gym which focuses on aerial battles. Little would have changed, really. When his solicitors looked at his will, it was discovered that the gym was to be run by Keadis’ only son, Falkner.”

Jake picked up on the name before Milo did; the boy seemed to be still thinking about Keadis’ death.

“Unfortunately, Falkner seems disinterested in running his father’s gym. We feel it is utmost importance; changing the leader again so soon is bad for marketing and brand recognition. But if he fails to materialise by the end of the day, we may have no choice.”

“We both know Violet City quite well,” Jake said. “What if we agreed to get Falkner for you?”

“Oh,” Mark said. While he sounded bored, something in his intonation suggested he was intrigued by Jake’s offer.

“We’ll go and find him; we know all his favourite haunts. Right Milo?”

“Yea, totally,” Milo mumbled.

“And what do you want in return?” Mark said. “I know fine well that people don’t do anything for free.”

Jake was about to speak up when Milo cut in. “A hundred quid.”

“Are you serious?” Mark said, his voice rising in volume for the first time since they met. “A ridiculous sum. You are no more than con artists.”

“Look, we’re going to meet him now,” Jake said. “If you don’t want in on the deal, we’ll go and ask someone else in your office.”

There was satisfaction in reading Mark Beaumont’s expression. He looked conflicted; obviously finding Falkner was a high priority for him and his team. But one hundred pounds was also quite a steep sum, and a cheeky request from the boys. But if someone below Mark were to get involved with Milo and Jake, and find Falkner where Mark could not, their hard work might put them in the good books with the Johto League. Mark seemed, from his non-too-fussy appearance and relaxed, West-Johto dialect, someone who had worked hard to get to where he was. Now it was under threat.

“Fine,” he said, his voice a brittle snap. “Find Falkner. Report back to me, I’ll give you my phone number.”

Jake took the number, and the two bid good day to Mark. He lit up a cigarette and stalked off through the quiet part of the city. Milo and Jake walked along the wide brick streets.

“How are we going to find him?” Milo asked.

“I dunno,” came the indifferent reply.

“Well how are we going to -

“If we find him, we get some cash. If we don’t, we don’t. I don’t give a fuck if this Mark guy gets Falkner or not, to be honest.”

Milo looked in alarm at Jake, and recognised something of his own attitude in the boy’s remark. He seemed less uptight, more relaxed - was it from spending time with Milo? He smiled at Jake.

“Fair point,” he replied. “Still, I can’t believe Keadis is dead.”

“Did you know him well?” Jake asked.

“Not really,” Milo said. “But Keadis had this way of making you feel comfortable and familiar around him. He was a really nice guy.”

“So, contest?” Jake said, as they sat down for a spot of lunch. The boys had been to a small deli and bought a sandwich and coffee each; they parked themselves on an ornate wooden bench and ate with gusto.

“Hmm, think I should, really,” Milo said. He set his sandwich down and brought out the case containing his three ribbons. Each glistened in the soft sun, sparkling bright. As he looked at them, with Jake peering over from his side of the seat, Milo tried to decide which he liked best. Probably the Goldenrod one; it had been earned after the difficult doubles match against Dior, and both Medicham and Scyther had worked very hard.

“We’ll have to find the contest hall,” Jake said.

“I think it’s near our hotel,” Milo said. “It’s definitely Magnemite’s turn. I haven’t used him for much, really.”

Milo was wondering about his Scyther when he felt a sharp object connect with the back of his head. With a roar of agony he span around, only to hear Jake let out a rattling yell. Facing them was a large, steel-grey bird, four feet in height, with sharp, splintered wings and a narrow beak.

“It’s a Skarmory!” Milo said. The bird had its wings pointed at the pair; the sharp tips glinted as they were held threateningly.

“WHATDOESITWANT!” Jake cried, his legs up against his chest as he eyed the creature with fear. “It’s huge!”

“I want answers,” came a voice. Milo saw a figure walk from behind him; the person who seemingly threw a stone at his head. The boy was about Milo’s age, with inky blue hair that swept across his face.

“Excuse me?” came Milo’s remark. “Who are you?”

“My name is Falkner,” he said, surveying the boys as Skarmory stood like a guard dog. “And I hear you’re looking for me.”

“Oh my god, excellent!” Milo said. “We came looking for you. Kurt Driscoll, from Azalea, told us to fi-

“Don’t lie to me!” he shouted, his pointed finger coiling into a clenched fist. “Mark Beaumont sent you.”

“How do you know?” Jake asked.

“I overheard,” he said. “And I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Don’t try and deceive me, you’re not good enough at it. Mark Beaumont sent you and you want to take me to him. Well I won’t let it happen!”

“We did agree to find you,” Milo said. “But it was for our own gain. We came from Azalea town, I promise. We were already on our way to find you. My name is Milo Mitchelson, and this is Jake. While we stayed in Azalea we were attacked by the former gym leader, Oscar. We were told you could protect us.”

Skarmory’s yellow, lamp-like eyes were still fixed on the pair and his wings were still pointed at the boys. Falkner looked at them still, studying their faces, their voices, their intentions.

“I don’t know a Kurt,” he said. “This is bullshit!”

“It’s true!” Jake said, with tears filling in his eyes. “Please believe us! We’re trying to save ourselves!”

He saw Jake’s distress and lightly bit his lip, watching them, studying their behaviour. With a sharp but short whistled note, the silver bird lowered his wings.

“I believe you,” came an airy tone.

“Thank you,” Milo said, nodding his head in a brief gesture of thanks. “I’m sorry we startled you, I really am.”

“I don’t know why you were sent,” Falkner admitted. “I don’t know Kurt.”

“Why are you avoiding the gym?” Milo asked. Falkner let out a long sigh, looking around the area. With another brief whistle, Skarmory flew high into the sky, flapping wings which looked so heavy and thick.

“Let me buy you a meal, you look hungry. I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

*

A brief walk, and the trio found themselves back in trendy West Violet, and eating on a rooftop restaurant that Falkner seemed both familiar and fond of. They dined on succulent steaks and crisp, refreshing salads, with Milo and Jake taking turns in regaling Falkner with their adventures. He seemed quiet initially, but soon warmed to the pair, laughing in all the right places and being a good one man audience. As Milo ordered another beer, gazing across Violet City below, Falkner told his tale.

“I haven’t lived in Violet City for a while,” he admitted. “After school I moved to Fuchsia city, to train as a Gym Accomplice. It’s not wise to train at a gym run by your family; it looks a bit suspicious, as if you get a leg-up. I never wanted that, so I moved to Kanto, and learned the ways of the ninja with the sensei, a man named Koga.

“Koga was old, irritable and powerful. But I learned a lot about stealth and disguise. How to follow someone without being noticed; how to know when you’re being followed. I was brilliant, and rose to a high rank at Fuchsia Gym. But then I got the news about my dad, and my world came crashing down. I couldn’t believe he had died.

“I came back here because dad left something in his will - he wanted to keep it in the family. This was about the time that the Reclassification gathered speed, and the people from the Johto League were concerned. Someone paid me a visit. He told me that they wanted my father for their new roster, but I could take over, and train his bird Pokemon. That it was better than some ‘nobody’ coming in and cocking up - they needed to know they could trust me.

“At Fuchsia Gym, I trained with a Gligar and Nidorina, but when I returned here, I had to get to grips with my father’s old Pokemon. The Johto League people told me that the theme would remain consistent, as they felt it was a good skill for challenging trainers to grapple with.”

“But you’re not there,” Milo pointed out. “Is it too weird?”

“No, no,” Falkner said, thinking. “No. I like being there.”

“So why are you not taking on challengers?” Jake asked.

Falkner pressed his glass to his lips and took a hearty gulp. Milo and Jake waited as he drained the contents of his drink slowly, but when he set his drink down, he did not give a response.

“Falkner?”

“I can’t say,” Falkner admitted. “It’s…it’s a personal thing. You understand, right?”

“Sure,” Jake said.

“Of course,” Milo said, glancing at Jake and catching his eye. Why wasn’t Falkner willing to - or able - to discuss his absence from the gym? He seemed like he had been able to open up to the boys, and they were having an enjoyable lunch. The following moments were somewhat awkward.

“But…you like being back here?” Jake said.

“Totally,” Falkner said. He leant back in his chair and a relaxed smile washed over his face. “Being here is awesome. I have a bit of money behind me, I can enjoy drink, girls - the nightlife in Violet is really cool.”

“Awesome,” Milo said. “Like Goldenrod?”

“Less in-your-face than Goldenrod. It’s classy, but fun,” Falkner told them. He glanced quickly at his watch, wincing. “Listen. I should really go, I’ve got a lot to do. But do you guys wanna go on the town tonight? I’ll show you Violet City.”

“That sounds good,” said Milo.

“Okay. I’ll meet you at Bijoux Bar tonight, 9pm. Dress smart…ish. Oh, and I already settled the bill for the food and drink. Laters.”

Milo and Jake watched Falkner leave and soon, after they finished the rest of their drinks, they made their own way out, too. They walked to their hotel and, after finally unpacking all of their belongings, the boys decided that their clothes needed a good wash. The hotel offered a complimentary laundry service, and the staff were soon laboured with mounds of dirty clothes as Milo and Jake went to train.

With Violet City Gym being under investigation by Mark Beaumont and his team, there was nowhere for Milo to train his Pokemon, which was a source of great annoyance for him. While Medicham and Croconaw were still fatigued from the intense battle against Oscar, Milo had wanted to work on the other members of his team. Unfortunately, except for designed areas, it was illegal to battle Pokemon in public.

In the end, Milo and Jake found themselves on the outskirts of the city. It was quiet here - there were crumbled, disused buildings and not a soul for miles. Milo released Magnemite and Scyther to begin training, while Jake had Ditto, Parasect and Wingull come out for some fresh (if dusty) air.

“Okay Magnemite,” Milo said. “You’re going to fire thundershocks at Scyther. Scyther, I want you to evade and block attacks. Bonus points if you can deflect.”

Scyther raised an eyebrow at his instructions, but didn’t have too much time to think; Magnemite crackled with sparks and blasted a shockwave through the air. Scyther swiftly got out of the way, running left with the aid of his wings; his claws barely graced the ground of the factory as he turned and unleashed a strong slash attack.

“Dodge!” Milo said to Magnemite. The little silver unit zoomed up and fired off another round of sparks. Scyther glowed white and leapt up into the air, splitting into three identical copies. Each green mantis manoeuvred by itself, thinking almost independently. When Scyther swept down to attack Magnemite, more copies burst from the existing copies. Magnemite let off a buzzing noise as he tried to avoid the large bug.

“Okay Magnemite, use a sonic boom!” Milo ordered. Magnemite screwed his single, glassy eye for a moment before a loud crack filled the room. A shockwave whooshed out at all sides, slamming into Scyther and hurtling him backwards. The sheer force bowled the creature off his feet; he had to flap his wings quickly to regain balance. Magnemite looked happy at his successful hit.

“Magnemite, try a thunderbolt,” Milo said. “Scyther, full power. Try and slash it away.”

Magnemite flew up to the rafters of the factory and built up energy. As a smaller electric Pokemon, attacks such as thunderbolt took more time to unleash. Milo ran along the factory and joined Scyther.

“Okay, you need to wait until the exact right moment,” Milo told him. “Thunderbolt moves fast. If you try and slash too quick, or you wait too late, you’ll get shocked.”

Scyther’s face fell as he heard the news. Essentially, he was ruined unless he did it exactly right. Excited, Magnemite was buzzing around the large, spacious factory as sparks built around his shiny coat. Scyther flapped back and watched the creature charge energy. He didn’t even blink; he watched intently, studying. Magnemite focused and the magnets either side of his body moved ever-so-slightly forward; he vibrated and sparks coursed through him as a vibrant yellow sheen took over his body.

“Get ready, Scyther,” Milo said, smiling. Magnemite let off a long, rattling electro-moan as he blasted the bolt of lightning through the air. It shot down, sharp and fast like a javelin with tendrils shooting off into the atmosphere. Scyther began to draw his right arm back but noticed something…

He swung a scythe far too early and staggered forward, but as he did so, he swung the next one, following through in quick succession. He kept swinging his scythes until he began to spin, building up speed. The thunderbolt raced on towards its target, but as it neared, Scyther expelled an intense blast of wind; the force drove the sparks back and caused the precise jolt to break into sparkling yellow fragments.

“What was that?” Jake asked.

“Vacuum wave,” Milo replied, smiling. “A couple of Chuck’s Pokemon used it. Creating a concussive force out of compressed air. Scyther! Again!”

Scyther nodded and, with more confidence, began to spin and concentrate to manipulate the air around him. For a few moments, Milo and Scyther worked on different angles, positions and shapes to work with, until they found a particularly efficient way to summon the curls of wind. Scyther tilted both appendages, with his left raised higher than the right - Milo was reminded of the blades in the blender at home. When Scyther span, the air was manipulated in a curving direction; perfect as it spiralled around him with ease. On Milo’s command, Scyther let out a reptilian cry and swung his scythes with a thrust; a blast of air swept into Magnemite and flung him across the room.

“That’s amazing,” Milo said to his Pokemon. Scyther looked somewhat embarrassed by the attention, but Magnemite was happy for his team mate, buzzing around his head and shooting off sparks like fireworks. The celebrations were ruptured when the noise of a car could be heard outside. Anxious that they could get in trouble for battling in public, Jake ran to the window and peered out of the factory to see who was.

“It’s a man!” he cried. “In a suit!”

“Who is he?” Milo asked.

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “But he’s kind of hot. You know, in a sort of older-man way.”

“JAKE!” Milo cried, running to the window. “It’s my fucking dad!”

“What?!” Jake said, looking as Michael Mitchelson got out a black car and walked towards the factory door.

“Jesus Christ,” Milo said. “You think my dad is hot!?”

“Well he sort of looks like you,” Jake said, looking sheepish. At that moment, Michael stepped into the large space of the factory and spied his son at the window. Milo turned and saw his dad approaching; he wore a light gray suit today - a colour he rarely wore. Each footstep was loud, heavy and intimidating.

“What are you doing here?” Milo asked. He could hear his voice echoing off the high walls of the old factoru.

“Hello Milo,” his father replied, “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“What are you doing here?” Milo said again.

“I came to see you,” Michael said.

“How did you know I was here? How?”

“It’s quite simple, really,” Michael replied. “Medicham’s Pokeball has a tracker installed in it.”

Instinctively, Milo grabbed Medicham’s Pokeball and examined it. The black surface, the gold edging and the ornate ‘M’ stencilled on the front - how could it be that this device had a tracking device in it? It seemed like Michael knew what his son was thinking, for he spoke up quickly.

“Don’t try and crack it open,” he said. “The chip is imbedded in the design. You’ll destroy the Pokeball.”

“Why did you put a tracker in?” Milo asked incredulously. He felt quite angry, that he was so easily located. The sense of freedom at leaving Goldenrod City sank into the furthest corners of the factory floor.

“Because,” Michael said. “After William died, and his Pokemon were stolen, I felt helpless to prevent the same thing happening again. This way, your mother and I could keep in touch you as we normally did, and at the same time know where your Pokemon were.”

Milo understood. While it felt somewhat infringing, it was an act of love. Medicham (and Kazaar, the powerful Alakazam) were the only Pokemon that weren’t stolen when William had died. It seemed that Milo’s Johto League Team - Rhydon, Flygon, Kingler, Golduck, Electabuzz and Exeggutor - all had the same devices in Milo’s custom-made Pokeballs.

“And since you destroyed your phone, I haven’t been able to check where you are, or if you are okay. You could have been dead.”

“Yea, but -”

“But nothing,” Michael said firmly. “We were both angry with each other, Milo. I understand your need for independence; to remove a safety net keeping you from fear. But this has gone on too far. I am your father, and you are my son - I don’t want to see you scraping coins from the gutter - because you don’t have to.”

“I just don’t want a silver spoon in my mouth,” Milo told his father, although he felt tiny and meek as he got his words out. “I like doing things my way.”

“You like having messy hair and cheap hotels? Eating few and far between?” Michael asked. “All I want is to be able to provide for you, Milo. Just because you have access to money that doesn’t mean you have to spend it.”

“You have a point,” Milo sighed. Michael brought something from his pocket - a sleek silver smartphone. He held it out for Milo and he took it; it was very slim, cold. Tapping the screen, a greeting flashed up; Hello Milo.

“It has all the contacts you need. GPS, internet, the lot.”

“Thanks,” Milo said, although he was a bit confused.

“Your mother worries about you,” Michael told Milo. “Not in the traditional sense…but she does care, and she is very invested in your contest career. I stand by my views - I think this competition you have undertaken is ridiculous and I don’t think competing in contests is good for you at all. I stewed on my thoughts over the last few weeks. But this isn’t about how I want you to live your life, Milo. You’re twenty two, and you’re an intelligent young man. You can do anything you want to.”

Milo was lost for words. Twenty minutes ago he was helping Scyther perfect vacuum wave, and now his father was here, having tracked him to Violet City, and he was telling Milo that he bore no grudge for the path he chose to go down.

“William wanted to be the elite trainer. I don’t quite know that you did,” Michael said - less of a statement, more of a lingering wonder. “What do you think?”

“I liked competing,” Milo said. “I worked hard, and my team was solid. But I don’t want to do that again, not yet. I like coordinating.”

“I’ll not ask why,” Michael muttered. He cleared his throat heavily. “At your hotel there is a delivery for you. A wallet containing money and a bank card. The card has money in it, but if you feel that you don’t want to use it, then don’t. But if you need to, you can.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Milo said, smiling. He thought his father would smile back, and he did, slightly.

“New Pokemon?” Michael said disinterestedly, seeing Magnemite and Scyther. Michael had no Pokemon of his own, save for the Alakazam that used to belong to William. He never had a proficiency for Pokemon training, although he did enjoy watching Pokemon Tournaments.

“Yea,” Milo said. “I’m just getting Magnemite trained up. He’s a bit weak.”

“Bill saw that you’d registered a Magnemite on your account,” Michael said. “He asked me to give you these.”

His hand felt in his pocket, and he produced two red Pokeballs. With little effort, Michael lobbed them into the air; the clasps opened and light poured out into the air, forming into identical shapes. Magnemite’s eye widened as the light took the form of two other Magnemite; they emitted a crackling beep together.

“Two Magnemite?” Milo asked.

“Just watch,” Michael said. The three Magnemite flew around each other excitedly, trying to get close to the others whilst emitting sparks. Milo’s Magnemite charged energy in both magnetic units; the sparks formed from a dull yellow to a soft white, and it was this light that attracted the other two magnetic Pokemon. Milo watched as the three Pokemon made physical contact, and a white glow took over the factory,

“They’re evolving!” Jake cried. “Into Magneton!”

The light emitted from the Pokemon was so bright that they were obscured from view. All that Milo could hear was a metallic grinding noise and a rattling clank. Jake was awestruck, watching the display with Parasect, Wingull and Ditto keenly. Michael seemed bored, wanting the metamorphosis to speed up. The heat being given off was intense. Once the light in the room began to dim down, Milo saw one singular unit bobbing on the air.

Three eyes focused together, looking around the room. The metallic unit did a cartwheel in the air, watching its own movements and sweeping forward.

“You’ve grown,” Milo said. Magneton vibrated and fired off a shocking cannonball of sparks and lightning. It smashed into a rafter of the factory with a loud bang; sparks danced and leapt across the surface, fizzling with fury.

“Magneton will be able to wield much stronger electric attacks, I’m told,” Michael said, his words sounding as if they were learned from a script.

“That was a shock wave,” Milo said, remembering his Electabuzz using the same attack. “Why did Bill give you those Magnemite?”

“Until you had them, your Magnemite’s strength would be stunted,” Michael said. “And I wanted to help you, Milo. I want you to be on my side.”

“I’m on your side, dad,” Milo said. “That’s not going to change.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, nodding. “I really must make tracks, I have quite a busy afternoon.”

“Listen,” Milo said. “Before you go….when I was in Azalea Town, I was approached by Oscar McNamara. He used to run Azalea Gym before the Johto League shut it down under the Reclassification.”

Michael nodded to show he understood, to show he was listening.

“To cut a long story short, he was trying to win my trust. He wanted me to be on his side because he planned on using me to get to you, since he knew you were a member of the Johto League Board of Governors. I don’t know what he had planned, but it was sinister - he’s a very broken man.”

“Thank you for the information,” came the reply from Milo’s father. He seemed distracted, staring at a corner of the factory. “I…I don’t quite think there is anything to worry about.”

“He was insistent,” Milo said. “I wouldn’t warn you otherwise.”

“He nearly killed us,” Jake pointed out. Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Thanks for letting me know,” he said, again sounding disinterested and appearing very keen to leave. Quickly he gripped Milo’s hand and gave it a firm shake; Milo’s eyes met his father’s and he nodded to him.

“Take care. Use your gifts wisely.”

“I will,” Milo said. Michael left the factory and got into the back of the black car. The windows were blacked out, in a sense, but it was clear that a woman was sitting in the back of the car already. Milo stared from the window of the factory, trying to decipher who it could be.

And then it made sense; a flash of amber eyes, and Milo gasped.

“Jasmine!” he said.

“Jasmine the Gym Leader?” Jake asked.

“It can’t have been,” Milo said, dismissing it. “No…”

He shrugged as his father’s car sped off. Magneton blinked rapidly and unleashed another powerful shock wave, giving Jake a fright. The boy’s high-pitched squeal was enough to have Milo in stitches.

*

“Magneton is registered onto your trainer card,” said the man at the Pokemoncenter. “Here you go.”

“Cheers,” Milo said, taking the Pokeball back. It was warm, presumably because Magneton was having difficulty containing his electricity. They had done some more training in the afternoon, but Milo was keen for Magneton to start battling. He was also wondering about potential combinations for an appeal.

Milo and Jake were about to leave the center when Falkner came rushing in through the automatic doors. He seemed somewhat flustered, making a beeline for Milo.

“I’m glad I found you,” he said.

“We still on for drinks later?” Milo asked.

“No, I can’t do it,” Falkner said. “I have to do something.”

“In the evening?” Milo asked. “Is everything ok?”

“It’s so important,” Falkner said, eyes darting left and right. “Okay. Make sure nobody can hear us…you know how you asked me why I wasn’t going to the gym?”

Milo nodded.

“I think I can trust you. I need to get this off my chest, it hurts too much,” he said. “I don’t think my father’s death was an accident.”

“What?” Milo hissed.

“I think he was murdered,” Falkner told him. He looked so nervous, so anxious, yet there was a certainty and an intensity in his eyes. Falkner seemed very sure of his claim. Jake looked horrified as the words sunk in.

“Why do you say that?” Milo asked.

“My father was in good health,” Falkner said. “But they said he had a heart attack. And he was found dead in the National Park, way off the beaten track.”

Milo thought briefly of when he was led astray by Barry ‘Bug-Eyes’ Brambles.

“I’ve been doing some sleuthing, trying to find out more,” Falkner said. “And I’ve found a lead. I’m going to check it out tonight, so I’ll be out of town.”

“Are you sure this is wise?” Milo asked.

“Police won’t listen to me,” Falkner muttered. “They’ve been bribed. Same with the pathologists. They’re all corrupt.”

“Look, take care,” Milo said. “And…good luck.”

“I’ll hit you up when I’m back,” Falkner said, giving a curt nod. “Later.”

Milo turned to Jake as the gym leader ran from the room.

“…what was that about?”

*

It seemed a waste to not go out, so Milo and Jake dressed up and made their way into the slightly wilder nightlife of Violet City. Funky bars and arty clubs were line the streets, and the people out on the town looked young, attractive and very stylish. Jake had his eye on a boy in a button-down shirt with slim braces; Milo wanted to follow the cute cheer-leader type into a bar called Rubicks.

In the end, they sampled a few of the bars, but their budget was tight, and Milo showed a surprising amount of restraint as they finished their drinks (Milo opting for a posh Fuchsia City beer and Jake slurping a pink gin cocktail) and made their way to the hotel.

“I wonder how Cecilia and everyone is,” Jake said, as the boys got into the hotel and began to get ready for bed.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Milo said distantly. “Probably been to the -

“- Mucky Pup,” Jake finished. “Yea, I thought that. What do you think happened to Oscar?”

“I don’t think they will have let him stay in town,” Milo said. Magneton was charging Milo’s brand new phone in the corner of the room, but tendrils of electricity would often shoot out and damage nearby electrical appliances. Medicham sat on the floor meditating, although she often opened an eye to see what Magneton was doing.

“Did you get my gum?” Jake asked.

“Yea,” Milo said, fidgetting in his pocket. “It’s in here…”

He tried to get the gum out without pulling his wallet out, but it proved to be rather difficult. As he got out the chewing gum, Milo’s wallet fell from his pocket and all his cards and change fell to the floor. Coins rattled and span, cards spilled across the hotel and a condom fell out the side.

“Fuck,” Milo said. Medicham flicked her finger and the condom flew through the air, landing in the drawer of the bedside cabinet. Milo smirked as he began to pick up the cards, with Medicham helping out.

It all happened so suddenly. Milo grabbed a card and felt a strong surge of pain stab at his temple. He blinked furiously, feeling Medicham’s hand on his own. They had both picked up the membership card that Milo still carried around.

“Ouch,” Milo said. Medicham’s eyes were glowing softly. “Medi? Are you ok?”

“It’s her clairsentience!” Jake said. Milo saw Medicham reacting with some distress, so he pressed his hand against hers and took her other in his hand.

“Show me,” he whispered.

Another bolt of pain.

Milo knew he was still sitting on the floor of the hotel room, but his senses were alight with new, evocative scents. The smell of dirty rain, of fresh grass. Somehow, he could sort of see Jake, and the room, but it was out of focus. Meanwhile, the impression of his hand on Medicham’s still felt strong, even though Milo was somewhere else.

A sharp scream.

“NO!” Milo cried. He felt pain, he felt physical and emotional pain, striking him somewhere he wasn’t sure of. “IT’S A TRAP!”

“Milo!” Jake cried.

There he was. Keadis, standing there before Milo. Looking handsome and healthy, he was catching his breath as he looked out towards a clearing in the woods. Milo wanted to speak to Keadis, to warn him, because he knew that something wasn’t right here. He could feel it - literally.

“Hello Keadis.”

Milo’s heart was racing, but he wasn’t sure why. It made no sense, this anticipation. Was something going to hurt Keadis, or the man to whom the voice belonged? This man was blurred, difficult to decipher, and even his words sounded inhuman. Milo knew what words the other man spoke, but never heard them.

“What are you doing here?” Keadis asked. “Of all places?”

“Following a scent,”

This preceded a hungry cackle.

“And you?”

“Hiding,” Keadis replied. “This gathered momentum so fast.”

“You brought too much attention to yourself!”

“People need to know the truth,” Keadis panted. Milo wanted to see Keadis closer, but couldn’t. He sensed Keadis was tired, hungry, sad. Had he been away from home for a long time? Was he on the run?

“Steven Stone wants your head on a platter,” the man told Keadis, who did not appear phased. He said nothing, instead staring through the bushes.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Life is dangerous, now,” Keadis muttered. There was a sadness in his voice; a surrender. “I can’t go home.”

“Falkner is safe, he still trains in Violet City.”

“I’m glad he can’t see me,” Keadis replied. “Or what I’ve created.”

“Keadis, you are a hero,” the man replied.

“Listen,” Keadis replied. “Can you…stay with me a bit?”

The man nodded. Something warm stirred in Milo’s heart; the two seemed like close friends. The man agreed and crouched down in the dirt. Time passed quickly, perhaps because nothing important happened during this time. Suddenly, a scream filled the air. Milo saw Keadis collapse and clutch his chest. As this happened, the man span around on the spot. Milo felt an intense, blunt pain in his head - it was if this man had been struck by something and Milo could feel it.

“Keadis!” he screamed, as he ran to the gym leader. His shirt was slashed open and blood spilled down his chest from a large, weeping slice. “What the -”

“Someone told them I’m here,” he whispered, as his eyelids drooped.

“How could they know?”

“Steven Stone always knows…”

Next, a strong stench of bile and vomit. Milo was gripping the sides of the toilet and retching into the bowl, his eyes streaming as the sharp, acidic tang lingered in his throat. Jake came over, shocked at the boy’s reaction to what had just happened. Medicham looked concerned, eying the membership card with distrust.

“What did you see?” Jake asked.

“He was murdered,” Milo said, spitting a globule of bile. “I saw it with my own eyes. I felt it.

“We need to tell Falkner.”




Next Time...

Milo struggles to deal with the shocking new information about Keadis' death and Falkner returns from his trip with a crucial clue to unlocking the truth. Meanwhile, Milo gets his Electabuzz sent over in order to help train Magneton, and Jake gets a surprising offer in a strip club.



Notes

-Ok so this was Milo and Jake getting back to normality and then getting thrown into something exciting along the way. Nothing new there right?

-Seriously though, I think the Violet arc will be quite interesting. It takes place around the Cherrygrove chapters but has a few central characters who we see more of during the next few installments.

-The Golden Arc will shed a lot of light onto the mystery of Keadis' death. In the next installment, Jasmine is reeling from the events in Azalea, and Mr Mitchelson ropes in an old friend to escort him to Violet City.

-We finally see the return of some old characters in the next chapter. I am very excited to be writing some upcoming scenes!

-Magnemite's evolution was intended to be as realistic as possible, and to reflect how I think it would be possible. Like electrical units, Magnemite can only exhibit a certain degree of power.

-I think Michael is a bit emotionally dead inside. See how his only gestures to Milo - while being useful - were material things. Bill most likely suggested the Magnemite thing as it would be a more long-term gift.

-The Magnemite presumably came from Jasmine (more on that in the next extra!)

-We will learn a lot this arc about the man Keadis, Falkner, and some important people involved in the Reclassification. Mark Beaumont is named after a very important man I work for, and we will see him during the upcoming chapters.

-More links and the significance between The Reclassification, Mitchelson Enterprises, Steven Stone, the Goldenrod thefts and Keadis' death will be highlighted. Some of these things relate to each other, and others do not.

-Do let me know your feedback guys!

[Sike Saner]

Yay for Magnemite evolving!

And wow, that last scene was certainly memorable. o.o I wonder what it was that took out Keadis. Something bladed, apparently, but that still offers up a lot of possibilities, whether from a weapon or from a pokémon (and that could be either something with physical blades or something that generates blades of wind or psychic energy or what have you). And since the assailant doesn't appear to have been seen, that's got me wondering all the more about what just happened. I have got something sort of along the lines of theories regarding that, but I'll just hang in there and see what happens.

Other highlights:

Milo’s body odour lingered on the air, circulating in the stuffy car; the windows did not wind down.

I've gotta say, I commend your attention to detail, even when the detail in question is an icky one. X3

“WHATDOESITWANT!” Jake cried, his legs up against his chest as he eyed the creature with fear.

Much as Jake's reaction did amuse me, I'll admit that it's probably not terribly far off from how I'd react if a big ol' metal bird with freaking blades for wings was suddenly and unexpectedly there near me, even though I really like skarmory and like it largely because it is a big ol' metal bird with freaking blades for wings. X3;

Medicham flicked her finger and the condom flew through the air, landing in the drawer of the bedside cabinet.

I'll also admit that I'm quite amused by the fact that there was a legitimate reason for the phrase "and the condom flew through the air" to occur. XD

[Chris 2.1]

New part of The Golden Arc guys! I'm really happy with this one; I ended up cutting it into two parts of the arc instead of a chapter-sized part since I like the Golden Arc to be a bit more bite-sized.



Previously:
-Jasmine and Morty recovered a Porygon that Oscar had stolen
-Jasmine shot Oscar in the arm
-Morty dissapeared after voicing his dissapointment in who Jasmine had become
-Oscar was shown to be working with Chuck

The Golden Arc
Four
Iceberg

“Morty, I know you must hate me right now, but let me explain myself.

“…Morty…I never intended to hurt Oscar. But my hands were tied - he was a threat to us both. I acted fast and we’re both alive and well. It could have been much worse.

“Jesus Christ will you stop moping! Okay, I shot a man in the arm. You said dominant women turned you on!?”

None of Jasmine’s thoughts seemed to align themselves in a coherent fashion, and as she paced around outside Mr Mitchelson’s office, Jasmine found it harder and harder to actually think of what she was going to say. Morty had not been in touch since she shot Oscar, but his parting words had involved him mentioning his shock at Jasmine’s murderous tendencies.

It had caused a great deal of self reflection on her part, but the more she thought, the more she felt her face burn with embarrassment and shame at how she had repelled Morty by showing just how inhumane she was. It made her want to break down and cry when she realised who she had become, who she might eventually turn out to be.

Maybe she could explain things to him. Maybe he would understand, or at least overcome his disgust, and they could move on from it. After biting her lip and fidgetting in the corridor, Jasmine caved in and marched through the doors into Michael’s office.

“Hello Jasmine,” said Michael. Instantly Jasmine could see that Morty was not there. Michael sat at his desk, imposed against the large window that showed the busy beneath of Goldenrod City. His voice carried to the rafters of the high-ceilinged office. Everything sounded more serious.

“Where is Morty?” Jasmine asked. Michael let out a sigh and gestured for her to sit down. As she walked to the chair, she saw another woman sitting with Mr Mitchelson. She was staring at the corner of the room, focused, making a considerable effort to avoid listening to the conversation. Jasmine saw that Bill was in the corner of the office, working on fixing a monitor.

“Morty told me what happened,” Michael said. “He feels disillusioned at the moment, and isn’t sure that he made the right decision in agreeing to aid us in this fight. For the mean time, Morty is going to be in Ecruteak city, with his family.”

“Is he coming back?” Jasmine asked.

“We shall see.”

“Right.”

“You did the right thing,” Michael said, nodding. “Now then, there’s someone that I would like you to meet. Jasmine, this is Lorelei.”

The woman failed to look up.

“Lorelei?”

“Oh? Hm! What?”

“This is Jasmine, who I told you about,” Michael said.

“Jas…min…oh what a pleasure,” Lorelei said, holding a hand out.

Jasmine held her hand out to shake Lorelei’s; she gripped it with the necessary firmness to make a statement, without being threatening. Jasmine felt Lorelei’s slender fingers sting her own as they shook.

“Your hands are so cold,” Jasmine said, nursing her fingers after they parted.

“I get that a lot,” Lorelei said, smiling. “AHAHA!”

“But really,” she continued. “It’s lovely to meet you, Jasmine.”

“Lorelei is my Director of Finance,” Mr Mitchelson explained. “She is a key component in my decision-making. Where to invest, you know.”

“How exciting,” Jasmine said, for she knew when she had to show an interest.

“Not as exciting as being a gym leader, sweetie,” Lorelei replied, giving Jasmine a sly wink. Confused, Jasmine looked at Mr Mitchelson, but he simply smiled.

“We are going to be taking a trip to Violet City,” he said. “And you two will both be coming.”

“Violet City?” Jasmine asked.

“There is important business to attend to,” he replied. “All will become clear in time.”

“How are we getting there?” Jasmine asked.

“I’m taking the chopper,” Lorelei said, as she got up from her seat. She wore a cropper leather jacket and zipped it up tight. “We‘re going flying! AHAHA!”

Michael got up and went to his walk-in wardrobe to change into a new suit. Jasmine sat in her chair, watching Lorelei walk out the office confidently. She didn’t trust this woman, and found it slightly suspicious that Mr Mitchelson’s Director of Finance was a fully-trained helicopter pilot.

*

An hour later, and Jasmine let out long moans as the helicopter flew through the skies. She was sitting in the back, facing Mr Mitchelson, while Lorelei was sat in the front piloting them through the skies. Jasmine felt sick.

“I suppose I never mentioned I have a helicopter,” Mr Mitchelson said airily. “Funny. It was more of an impulse purchase, I do admit. But it is good for getting around.”

“So why did you bring me, again?” Jasmine asked. “I brought the Magnemite you asked for, so I’m assuming you need access to somebody’s communications…”

“No, not quite,” Mr Mitchelson replied. “They’re for Milo.”

“Milo?” Jasmine cried. The helicopter turned sharply and a sweeping feeling filled her stomach. “Why him?”

“Look, I know you’ve never seen eye to eye with my son,” he said. “But this is necessary. Milo has a Magnemite and I want to help it evolve. I want to gain my son’s trust again, and this is the only way I can think of that doesn’t involve money. Which I’m also going to give him. We’re a money-driven family, I’ll admit.”

Jasmine let out a heavy sigh. She disliked Milo and his lecherous ways; she had fallen under his spell once before, and recently learned that her younger sister had done likewise. It was infuriating for Jasmine that spoilt little rich boys like Milo ruled the roost while hearts were breaking everywhere.

But now, she worked for Mr Mitchelson, and on some days, she wasn’t quite sure why. Nevertheless, as her employer, Mr Mitchelson made the decisions, and it was with a great deal of reluctance that Jasmine handed over the two Pokeballs from her purse.

At that second, Jasmine thought of something. If Milo was going to be in Violet City, then Jake was, too. Her hand dived into her bag, before she realised that the little Pichu was safe at Mitchelson Enterprises. The perfect opportunity to reunite Jake with his Pokemon was right here, and she had messed up.

“Why didn’t you say so!” she shouted. Mr Mitchelson raised his eyebrows in alarm, unable to find the context for Jasmine’s outburst.

“Excuse me?”

“If you’d told me we were visiting Milo I could have brought Jake’s Pichu!” she snapped.

“I told you that we should never be motivated solely by reuniting people and Pokemon,” he replied calmly.

That did not convince Jasmine. He had gone out of his way to make sure Jasmine couldn’t reunite Jake with his Pichu; the knowledge filled Jasmine with a bubbling rage that hurt her stomach. All the more reason to raise her voice, she felt.

“You’re doing this out of spite! SPITE!” Jasmine snapped. “Michael this is ridiculous!”

“Please keep your opinion to yourself,” Michael said to her in a quick, slick whisper. “If you don’t like the way I do things, then leave. Go home and live your life like Morty is doing. Because I am not going to change any time soon. My job won’t change. This fight won’t change, and the criminals in Goldenrod city aren’t going to change. If there’s been a single thing in my life I haven’t enjoyed, do you think I just bail out? Look the other way? Of course not Jasmine. How will that make me stronger, tougher, able to endure the hardships that I will see time and time again?

“My attitude is to meet problems head on. I suggest you do the same.”

“And what if I do decide to leave?” Jasmine asked.

“What if?” Michael asked, giving a lazy shrug and looking out the window.

“I hate men,” Jasmine snapped, folding her arms and looking out of the window, too. “AND CAN YOU TRY STEERING THE HELICOPTER IN A STRAIGHT LINE PLEASE?”

“Sorry darling, can’t hear you from up front,” Lorelei called. “Bit of wind coming our way, could be a bit turbulent! AHAHA! Hold on!”

*

They landed East of Violet City, where Mr Mitchelson had arranged a car to come and pick them up from the small airfield. It was a spacious black car, with luxurious white leather seating. Jasmine was feeling frustrated at her boss - did he not want to keep her happy and ensure she didn’t leave? He didn’t seem to care, but Jasmine still didn’t think she could just leave like Morty did. For one, what if Morty came back?

“How do you know where Milo is?” Lorelei asked.

“He has a tracking device in one of his Pokeballs,” Michael explained. “It’s mainly so we can keep an eye on his Pokemon if they were stolen, but since Milo doesn’t carry a phone any more, we’re using it as the means to find him, too.”

“Excellent,” Lorelei said. Jasmine was dying to know what other business they had in Violet City - the three of them surely didn’t need to all be here? But she bit her lip; she was throwing a strop, and had to make sacrifices in the pursuit of knowledge.

“And then we can pick up the package,” Mr Mitchelson said smugly.

Jasmine’s heart jumped - a package? That sounded exciting, risky, dangerous. Lorelei saw Jasmine’s expression and giggled, but did it silently. Obviously this was all very commonplace for Lorelei. Briefly, Jasmine recalled Adam Anderson, and the last expression on his face before she killed him. The clatter of his blood-soaked fillings as they tore through his flesh…had Lorelei ever seen anything so horrific?

The journey through the Route to Violet City was not long by any means, but due to the frosty atmosphere in the car it seemed to take a while. Jasmine stared out the window, gazing at the scenery, but could feel a pair of eyes on her. Michael or Lorelei, she was not sure.

Soon, they pulled up by an old, disused factory. Michael smiled as he got out of the car; when he opened the door of the car, noises from the factory could be heard. Milo was ordering his Scyther to attack.

“I will not take long,” he said. “Please, talk amongst yourselves.”

He slammed the door and walked towards the factory. Jasmine looked at Lorelei and their eyes made a flickering contact. Jasmine quickly looked out the window.

“What’s wrong?” Lorelei asked, placing a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. Her icy touch spread through Jasmine’s body.

“Nothing,” Jasmine muttered.

“Do you miss your friend Monty?”

“Morty.”

“Oh that’s right! Oh I am bad with names! MONTY!” Lorelei cackled at her mistake. “Honestly, once I start laughing….that’s too funny!”

“It really isn’t,” Jasmine pointed out.

“Stop being so uptight,” Lorelei said to her. “It’s not worth it.”

“I just don’t want to be here,” Jasmine said. “I’m turning into a monster, driving people away, inflicting pain…this isn’t who I want to be.”

“So you’ve killed a few people,” Lorelei said, rolling her eyes. “Big whoop!”

“I’ve killed one person,” Jasmine corrected her.

“Only one?” Lorelei asked. “Why are you being so miserable? Jasmine, I’ve killed about fifteen people. And you know what? All you can do is shrug it off. Move on…on to the next job.”

“You’ve killed fifteen people!?” Jasmine asked.

“Why are you so surprised?” Lorelei asked.

“I just…didn’t think finance was so ruthless,” she said softly.

Lorelei was silent for a moment. Her lip trembled.

“AHAHA! Oh Jasmine! You don’t honestly think…? You’re serious!”

“What?”

“You don’t think I actually know anything about finance, do you?” she asked. “It’s a phantom title. All of Mr Mitchelson’s agents are given positions within his company so as to explain our whereabouts. It’s also how our pay is distributed.”

“All of you?” Jasmine asked. “How many people work for him on this…project?”

“Taking on the thefts? Quite a few, dear,” Lorelei replied. “Oh yes, quite a few.”

“I thought it was just us…” she murmured.

“You’re not alone,” Lorelei told her, nodding. Jasmine looked into her eyes, framed by red spectacles.

The door was wrenched open and Michael bustled into the car, the scent of cold air lingering on his clothes.

“Well, that went better than I had imagined,” Michael said. He noticed the girls seemed tense. “Is everything ok?”

“Absolutely fine,” Jasmine smiled.

“Right, now we need to visit Gamma,” Michael said. The car started up and sped off through the outskirts of Violet City.

“Who is Gamma?” Jasmine asked.

“He’s a contact that I have been speaking to for some time,” Michael said. “It’s just a pseudonym, I think. I have been doing some digging into where the money is coming from that funds the thefts in Goldenrod.

“We know that The Hieroglyph Palace, a nightclub in Goldenrod, is a haven for thefts. We also know that the Casino has ties to the criminal underworld. Gamma has been helping me to trace the finances to find out who is pulling the strings. It’s a multi-armed creature, this operation. But we are close to finding out who our enemy is.”

“Why are we paying him a visit, and not getting the information sent to us?” Jasmine asked.

“Alas, he doesn’t trust people any more,” Michael said. “We needed to come in person to pick up some documents.”

The road they drove on became bumpy. Once or twice the car rattled as it hit a rock or swerved dangerously. Michael looked out of the window, wanting to see the progress of the journey.

“Oh my god,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Jasmine asked.

“WATCH OUT!” Michael roared. A moment later, the car rose up off the ground, before being flipped over in mid-air. Jasmine let out a scream as their surroundings blurred and spun; the car smashed down onto its side, sending shattering glass raining over the passengers. Jasmine felt something strike her face and her nose burst in a shower of blood.

“What happened?” she mumbled.

“We have an enemy,” Michael said drowsily. Jasmine saw Lorelei had already unbuckled herself and crawled out of the car by climbing out the window, which was facing up. Jasmine decided to follow, since she didn’t appear to be hurt.

Outside, she saw a gigantic creature hovering in mid-air. It was a green and blue steel colour, with four thick, metal legs with sharp claws. A large X was imposed across its face, and it had narrow, dark eyes. It was a Metagross - something Jasmine knew a little about. As well as being a powerful steel Pokemon, it was an incredible psychic.

“Is it wild?” Jasmine asked.

“It flipped our car over,” Lorelei said firmly. “It wants to kill us.”

The Metagross caused the air to ripple around it as an intense psychic blast was unleashed. Lorelei was swept off her feet and slammed into the ground, while Jasmine ran behind a tree. She was gasping, feeling a sharp pain in her chest. The car, crushed and shattered, still housed their driver and Mr Mitchelson, but as Metagross hovered closer, Lorelei leapt up and wielded a Pokeball.

“JASMINE!” she bellowed. “FIGHT IT!”

“Oh!” Jasmine said, fidgeting in her bag. “Empoleon!”

“Jynx!” Lorelei cried, throwing a Pokeball through the air. The blue penguin formed on the arena, weilding its thick, steel blades in a readying pose. Lorelei’s Pokemon was a bizarre purple creature with blonde locks and a red dress.

“We need to stop it,” Lorelei said. “It’s destroy or be destroyed.”







-Ok so this was a kinda build up to the next chap.
-Lorelei was fun to write. You'll seemore of her; she's a bit of a sociopath, has a murderous streak...but she seems quite calm, quite happy almost.
-I wanted Jasmine to see someone who has been with the organisation longer than her, and to see the effects it has had. Lorelei is clearly quite unhinged.
-Next part of the Golden Arc is huge for the storyline. You'll learn an awful lot.



Let me know what you think guys!

[Sike Saner]

Jasmine and Lorelei's personalities contrast quite interestingly. And when the metagross flipped the car, that was nice and unexpected. (Plus metagross are just freaking cool, and it's always nice to see one of those make an appearance.)

Great ending for this installment, too. Should be interesting to see how they deal with this situation. Looks like there might be some ass-kicking on the horizon.

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: I'm glad you enjoyed it! The next part is pure carnage, and we finally see Jasmine battling! I know MLG and others have said they'd like to see some of the characters battling more and that will happen in the Golden Arc and the main fic.

As for the next chapter, it's coming along well, but having a full time job gives me very little time to write! Still, if you want to leave any comments on the latest chap please do!

Next chap involves more alcohol, battling, a 'contest' and pole dancers.

Oh yes.

[crown34]

pole dancers

YAY ^^

[Chris 2.1]

Crown: Hi! Thanks for reading

Just a quick heads up guys! Ch23 is finished but I'm just going to edit/add in a little bit more then proof the whole thing. Got to fit in a bit of a sparring/battle scene and it's done.

I'm actually really pleased with this chapter. It covers a lot of ground, answers some plotline things, and sends the story into a very interesting direction.

Just to let you know it's up soon - DEFINITELY this week

Thanks for all being so patient!

[Chris 2.1]

Show-Off
-XXIII-
Mother Ink

“Thank you for joining us.”

The presenter was a handsome young man dressed in a suit. He stood in the middle of the room as the audience watched from all angles. The seats wound up in steep tiers from all sides.

“We have seen an eclectic mix of coordinators fighting today, but we are down to the finals. The top two trainers will now be giving it their all and fighting for the Violet City ribbon, which will take them one step closer to entering the Grand Festival.”

“These seats are great!” Jake said excitedly. “Aren’t you glad we came to watch the contest?”

“I want to compete in it, damnit,” Milo said. Jake raised his eyebrows.

“You shoulda been more organised and signed up then,” he replied coolly.

“I just saw a mental apparition of a man get murdered last night,” Milo said. “Give me some fucking space!”

“Excuse me?” came a voice.

From behind them, a stringy looking man peered down at them. “Would you be so kind as to not use such vulgar language? My children are only young and I don’t want them learning bad habits from strangers.”

Milo turned to the young children.

“Piss fuck cocking tit-wank.”

And he turned back round.

“Look,” Jake said, noticing the father fly into a rage. “That whole Keadis thing…let’s put it to the back of our minds for now. We can enjoy the contest final and then maybe you can start training Magneton up.”

“Fine,” Milo said, looking as the first coordinator got onto the stage. They had got cheaper tickets because they came just to watch the finals; the appeals were often quite a long and laborious part of a contest and it was not uncommon for people to simply tag along at the end.

Milo looked at the young boy who was on stage - he looked quite smug. He wore ripped denim and had messy hair, a Pokeball held at the ready. Emerging from the other side of the arena was a beautiful, slender looking girl with black bobbed hair. Milo’s heart skipped a beat.

It was Luna.

Jake spoke up on cue.

“Oh my god!” he said. “It’s Luna Fuerte!”

Luna radiated an aura of pure beauty; as she stood on the arena, placing a hand on her hip, she exuded a raw power than had Milo transfixed. His thoughts flashed back to Ilex Forest, when she had appeared to him. What could that have meant? Milo knew that it was because of the Stantler that he had the visions in the first place, but why were they of Luna? Had she been in his thoughts all this time, perhaps? She was a quirky girl, today wearing a cropped tweed waistcoat and a pair of brogues. While her fashion sense was more vintage than designer, Luna had something that models like Gina Gourmante, or even Mia failed to grasp. That element of self-assurance - Luna was here to impress no-one, yet she did just that.

“Can you both release your Pokemon onto the arena,” said the referee. Luna gave a quick nod and plucked a Pokeball from her pocket, expanding it and throwing it into the air. The light from the Pokeball formed into large, delicate wings. A purple body took shape, with rather big feet, small, clawed hands and big indigo eyes. The Butterfree let out a shrill cry as she flapped in the air. The colours on her wings were beautiful; Jake clasped his hands together and let out a gasp.

“Oh wow!” he said.

Luna’s opponent, who was named Ralph, had sent a Haunter onto the arena. The large, spiked body of Haunter was joined by two disjoined, gnarled hands. It let out a giggle as it hovered in the air, ugly in every way that Butterfree was not.

“The finals….BEGIN!” came the cry.

“Haunter, sucker punch!” cried Ralph. Haunter’s hands both disappeared with a pop, leaving his body looking rather odd without his appendages. Butterfree was in mid-air, studying the arena, when the two hands re-emerged behind her, clenched like fists.

One smashed into Butterfree’s back and threw her down. The second hand swept up and punched her in the stomach, hurling her back up into the air. Luna watched with apprehension as the two hands kept popping up here or there, ready to strike Butterfree in which ever direction she was being thrown.

“Psybeam!” she cried. The creature’s big eyes sparkled and burned with light. Butterfree attempted to fire the beam at Haunter, but as a sucker punch struck her in the side, she blasted the beam of rainbow-coloured light high into the sky, and it completely missed.

“Haunter, keep Butterfree in place! Fire shadow ball!” Ralph ordered. One hand grew longer, shadowy claws, and clutched Butterfree tightly, her wings pressed against her body. Haunter’s other hand crackled with intense tendrils of shadowy energy; wisps curled from the sharp points as an orb of compressed umbra formed steadily.

“Butterfree, use a supersonic!” Luna said. Butterfree began chirping a high-pitched cry that disrupted Haunter’s concentration. His grip loosened, allowing Butterfree to wrestle her way out and flap up into the sky.

“Silver wind!”

“Fire the shadow ball!” Ralph ordered. Haunter held his hand out and fired the orb; as it flew at Butterfree, she flapped her wings at an incredible speed. They started to glow as a silvery powder was released from the creature’s scales.

Suddenly, an intense blast of twisting silver wind swept across the arena, smashing apart the shadow ball into wisps of umbra and smoky darkness. Haunter was also struck, screwing his face up as he was forced back.

“That Silver Wind looked strong,” Milo noticed. “I’ll have to work on Scyther’s.”

“Use night shade!” yelled Ralph.

“Double Team!” cried Luna. Beautifly span on the spot before darting up into the air; identical copies swept along the arena, diving low or twirling high into the air. Hauter’s dark, sharp tendrils of energy bolted through some of the copies, but ultimately did not hit the real thing.

“Try again!” said the boy. Haunter held his crooked fingers out and more bolts were unleashed, but Butterfree danced in the air, chirping with merriment and unleashing pink clouds of deadly spores.

“Look at the way she puts on a show,” Jake said. “She’s evading Haunter, but using attacks, and the crowd are captivated by her.”

“It’s like Haunter isn’t even on the stage,” Milo mused. It was interesting watching other coordinators battle - Milo told himself he should really do this more often.

Ralph’s eyes darted often to the timer; he seemed keen to deal as much damage as he could so that he would win. Luna, meanwhile, dealt damage very rarely. Instead, her Butterfree evaded, performed and danced, causing even the slightest attack to lower Haunter’s appeal gauge dramatically.

“Petal dance!” Luna said. The attack of sweeping pink petals span across the arena and assaulted Haunter. Milo was surprised that Butterfree could learn the grass-type attack, adding to his awe at Luna’s technique.

As Haunter struggled to fight back against the onslaught, Butterfree unleashed a psybeam to strike him right between the eyes.

“Haunter use hypnosis!”

His eyes began to glow with an intense light. Butterfree began to sway on the spot as she caught the purple spectre’s gaze. Milo instantly looked to Luna, to gauge her reaction. How would she cope with Butterfree becoming drowsy and slow? If she was concerned, then she hid it well; Luna stared at Haunter as if studying a piece of art, looking for hidden meaning somewhere among it.

“Butterfree, keep calm,” Luna said. Butterfree began releasing soft, flaky scales that drifted from her body with each flap. They sparkled a spearmint colour, and seemed to stay around Butterfree’s body. Jake pointed out the colour of the scales were similar to Parasect’s spores; specifically, the perk-up spore that invigorated and refreshed.

“Luna let Butterfree release the spores discretely, to keep Butterfree awake,” Jake said. “She’s so clever.”

“She really is,” Milo said.

He didn’t feel that he possessed similar sharpness in contests, even though he was in possession of three contest ribbons. He’d even had to beat Luna to earn the Ecruteak Ribbon, yet here she was, fighting with more drive than he had ever applied himself.

“Don’t put yourself down,” Jake said, when Milo voiced his concerns. “You fought really hard, in all your battles.”

Milo looked up. Butterfree had unleashed a silver wind attack that smashed into Haunter and ploughed the creature into the wall. The timer reached zero and the referee declared Luna the winner. Confetti burst from the ceiling and Luna gave a modest smile as Butterfree flapped back over to her trainer.

“She won!” Jake said. “No surprise, really.”

Milo wasn’t really interested in saying anything back; he was transfixed at Luna and wondered how many ribbons she now had. Could he beat her again, if he faced her in battle? Milo wasn’t so sure. As the crowds dispersed, and Luna took a bow, Milo knew he had to go the extra mile if he wanted to do well in the next contest.

*

Milo had done his best to find Luna after the contest, but he had missed her. It had put him in a rather sour mood, something which Jake had managed to pick up on. They had a light lunch, which Milo moved around his plate slowly.

“Why are you so down?” Jake asked. They were at the rooftop restaurant Falkner had taken them to the previous day. As it was slightly milder, they sat inside today. “Luna’s just a girl.”

“I know that,” Milo said.

“And you don’t even know her that well.”

“I know that!”

“Surely Gina Gourmante is better loo-

“Will you shut up!” Milo snapped. A pear-shaped waitress nearby gave a squeal and dropped a plate.

“Look. I like girls, I like having casual sex with them, but I’m not into feelings, or being emotional, or any of that crap. And now Luna’s making me feel feeling’s and it’s confusing me and I don’t like it at all! So I’m trying to deal with not being dead inside….ok?”

Jake didn’t reply directly; he simply took a sip of his juice and ate some more of his food. They ate in silence, with Milo feeling self-absorbed about Luna and his own aptitude as a coordinator. It also appeared that, if a contest had taken place today, another would not take place in Violet City for quite some time.

“Why don’t you try and find her, let her know how you feel?” Jake said.

“Oh yes, I’ll vocalise my problems, yes, what a good idea,” Milo grumbled.

“She’s an amazing coordinator,” Jake said. “I was so impressed.”

“But I’ve beaten her,” Milo said. “So…I’m better than her.”

“You know that’s not a logical statement,” Jake replied. “What was the name of the guy who beat you in the Johto League?”

“Gary,” Milo muttered.

“So if Gary beat you in your first qualifier round, then you wouldn’t be as strong as you think,” Jake said. “Or if someone beat Gary early on, you might have gone all the way to first place.”

“I suppose.”

“You don’t need to suppose, do you?” Jake said, smirking. “Just because you have beaten Luna that doesn’t put you higher than her. Your Medicham beat her Lunatone at the time -”

“Okay, I think I get the -”

“-but what about her Slowking against your Medicham, or Butterfree against Croconaw?”

“You’ve made your point-”

“It’s clear that in coordinating, you’re never going to be head-and-shoulder above the rest.”

“Indeed,” Milo muttered.

“Gina Gourmante beat you in Olivine City, but you went on to beat Dior in Goldenrod, moments after he defeated Gi-”

“Okay! Okay! I GET IT!” Milo snapped. “Jake you’ve made your point again and again and again and then again!”

“Touchy,” Jake muttered.

“De ja vu much?” came a voice.

“Oh thank god,” Milo said, as Falkner walked through the restaurant to see the boys. “Hey man!”

“Mind if I join?” he asked, unbuttoning his thick wool coat. His hair looked wild and flyaway, and his cheeks rosy from the cold outside.

“Course not,” Milo replied. “I’m surprised to see you so soon.”

“Yea, weren’t you going away?” Jake asked.

“I‘m back” Falkner said. “Got back early this morning.”

Milo felt a sickening lurch in his stomach - a reminder of what he saw when Medicham touched the Membership Card. What had Falkner learned overnight on his mission? Did he know that his father had been killed in the National Park? Jake saw Milo’s apprehension.

“Did you…find anything out?” he asked, as Milo kept quiet.

“Actually, my lead turned out to be quite useful,” Falkner said excitedly.

“Oh?” Milo asked, wondering if he could leave the room discreetly.

“I found out that my father had left Violet City on business, to meet someone in Goldenrod City. That gives me a little more insight as to why he was found in the National Park…but whoever he met was elusive. I couldn’t get a name, or a contact.”

“Business?” Jake asked. “What sort of business?”

“Probably related to the Reclassification,” Falkner said. “The Johto League Board are based in Goldenrod.”

“Well I’m glad the trip proved useful,” Jake said.

“Thanks Jack,” Falkner replied. Jake said nothing, narrowing his eyes and ordering a latte from a passing waitress.

“Listen, since I totally blew you guys off last night, why don’t we have a proper night out tonight?” he suggested.

Milo perked up at this suggestion and got involved with the conversation; Falkner wanted to show them a few bars in town that he often frequented, and both the boys liked the idea. Milo wondered if Luna would be out, celebrating her victory…

“Before we do that,” Milo said, thinking. “You’re back at the gym now, right?”

“Technically,” Falkner said.

“So Mark Beaumont and those other League douche bags are gone?”

“Yea, why?”

“I need to do a bit of training,” Milo said. “And the Gym is the only certified battleground in the city.”

“Sure man,” Falkner said. “We can go now…if that’s what you had in mind?”

“Actually, I need to make a quick detour,” Milo said, smiling. Jake sipped his latte and raised an eyebrow, unsure what the boy was referring to.

*

A short while later, and Milo found himself standing on the battleground at Violet City Gym. Situated at the top of the large, tall tower, there was a crisp taste in the air and a sharp wind blowing. Falkner kept his coat buttoned up tight and looked quite happy to be battling. Milo wondered if it kept his mind off the investigation into Keadis’ death.

Milo had rung home and had his Electabuzz sent over to help him work on Magneton’s electric attacks. Throwing the black-and-gold Pokeball onto the arena, Milo released one of the strongest Pokemon from his league team. Electabuzz planted his feet firmly into the ground and beat his fuzzy chest savagely.

“Wow!” Jake cried, watching from the sidelines. He and Milo had released all their Pokemon to watch the sparring session; Scyther looked on keenly, perhaps eager to learn more about this new, powerful ally. Croconaw was freezing the tips of his fingers, seeming uninterested with the battle.

Medicham, meanwhile, leant against the wall with her arms folded, glimpsing at her old team-mate and flashing a fond smile. Parasect was snuggling up to Jake, while Wingull and Ditto sat with their trainer.

“Okay Magneton, this is my Electabuzz,” Milo said. Magneton blinked rapidly at Electabuzz, who clicked his fingers and emitted a thick, snapping spark. “You guys are gonna work on your electric attacks.”

Magneton did a sort of cartwheel around Milo, shooting off thin tendrils of electricity. Milo noticed that the steel Pokemon did this when he was happy; his eyes blinked furiously and he let out a tinkling screech.

“I’ll send a couple of my Pokemon out,” Falkner said, throwing two Pokeballs onto the arena. From the bright light emerged two birds. The first sparkled with a natural sheen as it took to the skies; it was the devilishly evil looking Skarmory, the same one who Falkner threatened Milo with just yesterday. The featherless creature looked strange in flight.

Alongside it came a Fearow; it craned its long, thin neck and let out a caw. Unlike Skarmory, Fearow stayed on the ground, stretching his wings and making an impressively intimidating silhouette.

“Electabuzz let’s start with a combo,” Milo said. “Swift shock.”

Nodding, Electabuzz clenched his fists and unleashed a sweeping flurry of golden stars. They circled the electric Pokemon as they gained size; sparks coursed through his body and Electabuzz let off a large shockwave that radiated out and engulfed the golden stars.

Rather than shattering, the stars were fuelled by the lightning and they whizzed through the air, sparks dancing behind them, giving them power. Fearow gave a big flap of his wings and took to the skies, but the stars sliced into him and electrocuted him hard.

Electabuzz grinned as Fearow fell back onto the ground. He had a thick, gruntish cackle that suggested he liked to cause pain to the foe.

“Magneton try a shock wave,” Milo said. Throbbing, Magneton’s coat shimmered and he began to build up sparks across his body. Electabuzz looked quite intrigued at the non-organic creature. A spiky orb of collected electricity was blasted towards Skarmory; as it travelled through the air it crackled and broke up, increasing its radius. The attack was difficult to avoid.

Despite the attack surging through his thick steel wings, Skarmory did not seem to be strongly affected by the attack. With a quick flap of his wings, the creature dispelled some of the sparks that had conducted through his body and he turned to face the enemy.

Electabuzz watched as Skarmory swept down into a powerful sky attack. Milo wasn’t sure why he was doing this, as Electabuzz could unleash a bolt of lightning when the creature got near. Flying Pokemon should really avoid making physical contact with electric Pokemon.

“Wait until it gets close,” Milo said. “Then let off a thunder wave.”

Electabuzz nodded. Magneton, meanwhile, cart-wheeled out of the way of a drill peck from Fearow, before blasting the bird with a sharp jolt of electricity.

“Skarmory!” Falkner yelled. “Hit it!”

Electabuzz held his palms out and sparks fizzed along his arms. Skarmory began spinning into a sweeping corkscrew-attack; he slammed into Electabuzz’s body and the yellow Pokemon gripped the foe’s wings as it happened.

Skarmory ploughed Electabuzz into the wall of the gym, but Electabuzz unleashed a thunder wave directly into the bird’s body.

Falkner watched in shock as the volts were pumped into his steel Pokemon. Skarmory staggered backwards, allowing Electabuzz to leap forward with the agility of a panther and slug the creature with a thunder punch.

Fearow blasted a strong gust of wind down onto the arena which forced Magneton back towards Milo. The huge bird was using powerful flaps from his broad wings to prevent Magneton from striking with electricity. Milo wasn’t sure what how to strike.

“Milo!” Jake said. “Try Gyro Ball.”

“Do it Magneton!” Milo shouted. Magneton span wildly as a shimmering glow took over his entire body. Like a Frisbee the Pokemon whipped through the air, with slivers of energy trailing behind him. Milo wondered how Jake knew about the attack, but was pleased that Magneton seemed comfortable using it.

Fearow flapped up and took to the skies gracefully; despite its ugly appearance it was a graceful flier. Nevertheless, the speedy Magneton arched up into the air and smashed into the brown bird, knocking it clean out of the sky. Fearow thudded into the ground as Magneton span back to Milo.

Falkner looked impressed, and immediately ordered Fearow to rest. Instead of going back inside a Pokeball, the bird flapped up into the air and took off to the rafters of the gym. Withdrawing a new Pokeball from within his coat, the boyish gym leader smiled.

*

The training commenced for much of the afternoon before Milo and Jake decided to call it a day. Magneton seemed to be getting stronger with his attacks, and it was only when Falkner noted that Magneton was resistant to so many attacks that Milo considered the creature’s role on his team.

“He is resistant to twelve types,” Milo said, reeling them off. “And with lock-on he can secure direct hits.”

“So maybe he won’t be an appealing Pokemon,” Jake said. “Although after seeing him use gyro ball, shock wave…I don’t know, he could be a cool appeal Pokemon too.”

It certainly gave Milo plenty to think about.

The Violet Phoenix Hotel did a laundry service, one which Milo and Jake had eagerly indulged in once they arrived at the city. Their clothes had gathered quite the curious smells since they had left Goldenrod City and that evening, as they laid their clean clothes out on their beds, the boys were in awe at how many belongings they carried around with them.

“I haven’t worn this shirt since Goldenrod!” Jake cried, his hand darting to the shirt with the speed and precision of a snake striking prey. “Ohmygod!”

Milo smirked, changing into the dark jeans he had purchased in Goldenrod city. As the boys dressed, something ran through their minds almost simultaneously. As Milo slipped a belt through his jeans, he looked across at Jake, who was buttoning his shirt slowly.

“Milo?”

“Yea?”

“We’re going to drink a lot tongiht, right?”

“Probably,” Milo said.

“What if…?”

“We get our Pokemon stolen off us?” he finished.

“Yea.”

Jake sounded fearful, looking to his friend and searching his expression for the answer, for comfort. Milo looked uneasy, choosing his words carefully before he said anything.

“I’m sure…” Milo began. “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Why?” Jake asked. He was subconsciously rubbing the Park Ball that contained his beloved Parasect.

“Look. I don’t think Violet City has been targeted as much by thieves,” Milo began. “But I remember that night in Goldenrod, and I remember a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of what might have happened if one of my Pokemon had been taken.”

“Trust me,” Jake said, with a dark undercurrent in his voice. “It’s heart-breaking.”

“Maybe we should leave them here,” Milo said, nodding as he started to agree with his own words.

The boys let Medicham and Parasect out of their Pokeballs and kept the rest stored safely in their homes. Parasect was to spray the door of the boy’s hotel room with sleep spores while Medicham would keep herself awake in case of any intruders breaking into the hotel room.

Milo felt comfortable leaving his Pokemon at the hotel - Violet City, or at least, the area they were staying in, seemed affluent and crime-free. Almost like the shiniest parts of Goldenrod without the grimy undercurrent.

As they came to the hotel lobby, Milo and Jake said hello to the receptionist and handed over their key for the night. Falkner was standing there, smirking at them. Milo smiled at him and felt a warm surge he hadn’t felt for some time - this guy was an equal. He seemed boyish in his ways, good looking, a sharp dresser when he wanted to be (he had a charcoal trench coat on over a dress shirt, and had slicked his inky hair along to the side, creating a 1950’s detective look).

While Falkner was friendly, approachable and fun, Milo remembered how kind Oscar had been. That had been disastrous. A voice in the back of Milo’s head - it was his sensible and thus boring persona - reminded him to be vigilant tonight, and look after his drink. It was too easy to assume Falkner had good intentions.

“This night’s gonna be fun, boys,” Falkner said, leading them off into the night. Milo wished, in hindsight, he had brought a Pokemon. Just in case.

“So where are we going to go?” Jake asked.

“Well, I heard you like cocktails,” Falkner said, putting his arm around Jake as the trio explored the Western District. “So do I. I took a bartending class, for a bit. Worked as a bartender in a funky little bar on Cinnabar Island. Have you ever been? Hot girls, hot beaches, the sea’s…well, it’s not hot, but it’s very warm. That’s volcanoes for you.

“Anyway,” Falkner said, stepping around a puddle. Transfixed, Jake walked right through it, hanging onto each of Falkner’s words as if they were dripped in gold. “We’re going to go to TupTup, it’s a kooky bar I like.”

“A kooky bar?” Milo said, pulling a sour face. He recalled the curious nautical décor in Starboard Sixty, the bar he visited in Olivine City.

“Kooky is cool, Milo,” Falkner said. Jake giggled, knowing all too well Milo’s preference for a bitter pint of ale in a weathered tavern.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really,” Jake said. “You liked the cocktails in Ecruteak!”

“They had manly things in them, like whisky,” Milo argued. “Or a Black Russian, that was coffee liqueur.”

“You should try a Zombie,” Falkner said. “If you like manly cocktails.”

“I do,” Milo insisted. “What’s in it?”

“Wait and see,” Falkner replied, smirking.

The town was buzzing in the evening; Milo saw a few preppy guys his own age sitting outside a smart looking bar; they wore baseball jackets, cricket sweaters and looked quite wealthy. They also passed an Italian restaurant which looked the epitome of cosy; couples fed each other pasta and giggled in the balmy evening.

TupTup attracted night-owls like moths to a flame; either side of the grand entrance were two marble pillars that burned brightly. Jake cooed in awe as the boys paid and went inside, exploring the lavish nightclub. Inside, the ceiling was surprisingly low; it was no cavernous castle like The Heiroglyph Palace. Tuptup seemed low and moody, with the corridors being small and snakey, while the dance floor was square and minimal.

Jake seemed disheartened that there was no large place for him to dance the night away, but Milo sensed that Tuptup was a social venue for the good looking to mingle and chatter. There were large plants that occupied entire corners of small square rooms, each room linked by the maze-like corridors and angular staircases winding deeper and deeper underground.

“So we just…?”

“Grab a seat,” Falkner said to Milo, as they walked through to one of the squat seating areas.

The interior, mixing cocoa shades with decadent crème, had a raised seating area built into the walls, lined with sumptuous fat cushions. Milo leapt onto the seat and looked around; snaking round the perimeter of the room, and leading through a small cubby hole parallel to the corridors were a series of thin conveyor belts carrying exotic cocktails throughout the club.

“How do you know what they are?” asked Jake, settling himself down next to Milo. Falkner soon appeared at Milo’s other side.

“Lift one up,” he said. Jake saw a golden yellow cocktail in a sparkling glass and reached out to take it. He timed it carefully, as the conveyor belt moved and the glass was tall and slender. Where the cocktail had been sat on the belt lay an inscription;

Goldenrod Purr - Lavish splashes of peach and mango puree with a hearty measure of Cerulean Cape premium vodka

“Sounds good,” Jake said, pressing the glass to his lips.

“Cerulean Cape does the most incredible vodka,” Falkner said. “It’s very expensive.”

“Wait, how do we pay for these?” Milo asked.

“The base of each glass is colour coded,” Falkner said, pointing as Jake took another gulp of his Goldenrod Purr. A yellow circle was stamped on the base. “Yellow drinks are £7.50 each. Red are pricier, around ten quid, but they’re the ultimate in sophistication. You can get blue ones for about £4 but they’re not as decadent. I registered this booth tonight with my credit card, so any drink taken from the conveyor belt in this seating zone will get charged to my card.”

“Sounds complex,” Jake said.

“Are you sure you want to buy all our drinks?” Milo asked. “Don’t get me wrong, we both think you’re a great guy, but I doubt I’d return the favour.”

Falkner took Milo’s honesty as a tongue in cheek remark and chuckled, admitting that he didn’t mind funding the night at all. He hoisted a stout glass from the conveyor belt and toasted to a good night.

Eager to see what was in the cocktail, Milo peered over to read the description.

Mother Ink - A heavy measure of Sambuca mixed with soda and a dash of raspberry liqueur, topped up with pomegranate juice

Milo looked at Falkner’s drink; it was a curious sketchy shade of charcoal. Milo wasn’t sure why, but he instantly reached for the next Mother Ink that rattled along the conveyor belt.

“Cheers,” he said, pressing the drink to his lips.

“So how long have you guys been mates?” Falkner asked.

“Not long, really,” Jake said. “I worked in a salon in Olivine city, and kinda got inspired to up and leave after I met Milo. He was competing in his first contest and after it was over, I decided to tag along.”

“It’s been a lot of fun,” Milo said, thinking back to the time spent in Olivine, Ecruteak, Goldenrod and Azalea town. Even the time spent on the road had been good fun, really.

“You guys are like…brothers, or something,” Falkner said. “The way you behave.”

“Thanks?” Milo said, laughing at the remark.

“I don’t think we have a lot on common, but…we get on pretty good, don’t we,” Jake said. Milo had to agree; while Jake had seemed high-maintenance and far too effeminate to be someone he’d consider a friend, he couldn’t deny that the boy was someone he felt very close to.

“I could use a good friend,” Falkner admitted. “I’ve spent so much of my youth moving around, you know?”

“Do you have any brothers, sisters?” Jake asked.

“None,” Falkner said. “And my mother’s estranged, lives in a distant continent somewhere. Dad was all I had left.”

Once again a stabbing ache filled Milo’s gut. He had seen this father figure die. He watched Keadis release his last breath as blood spilled down his shirt. It was making him feel poisoned inside; tainted, taunted by the venomous truth.

“You okay Milo?” Falkner asked.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“These Mother Ink’s are sharp,” he said, as he finished his and set the empty glass down. “I get it.”

But you don’t, Milo thought to himself sadly. Jake saw Milo and bit his lip nervously.

*

“To friendship!” Falkner cried, clinking his glass with the others.

“To alcohol!” Milo gurgled, swinging his own glass to meet Falkner’s.

The boys had consumed many, many drinks during the night., and had discussed everything from radical new species of Pokemon to why the Hitmonchan appeared to wear a skirt.

“To….” Jake began. “To to to!”

“Aw Jake,” Falkner cooed. “Feeling a bit drunk?”

“Flobbing Shnurples,” he replied.

“Guys, I think it’s time to show you the surprise I’ve been keeping for you,” Falkner said, getting up from their seating booth. “Come with me.”

Milo slid off the seats, wondering what was going to happen. Falkner led the way through a snaking corridor in silence, and the boys followed without hesitation. Soon they were met with a steep, angular staircase and continued deeper underground.

“Always best after a few drinks,” Falkner said excitedly. “Always. Gets you fired up, you know?”

“Hey Milo keep your camera phone in your pocket,” Jake gurgled. ”Falkner! It was so funny. One time Milo took a picture of this girl…Vanessa…no! It was Uno, or Millie? Pomface!”

“None of the Eevee sisters are called Pomface Jakey,” Milo pointed out.

“DOING COCAINE!” Jake cried. “For reals”

“Well I’ve no doubt there’ll be a bit of white powder,” Falkner said. “But that’s not why I brought you.”

They arrived at a door. Nobody guarded it, and it wasn’t even locked. Falkner walked into the next room, and Milo eagerly followed. What he saw made his jaw drop.

A large, high-ceilinged room. Girls adorning podiums wearing next to nothing. Men receiving lap dances from sprightly blonde girls while others watched in awe. Milo slapped Falkner on the back.

“YES!” Milo cried. “FUCK YEA!”

“It’s a private member’s area,” Falkner explained.

“Oh, very mature,” Jake sniped.

Some girls strutted on catwalks up and down the room in high heels while others danced in large antique bird cages.

Milo was giggling. The girls were beautiful, all beautiful. They walked with confidence, enchanting punters with a mere wiggle of their hips. Some girls served drinks on diamante-sparkled trays, their teeth pearly white. Hair falling perfect.

After sitting down, Milo remembered grabbing a drink and necking it straight away. It had a taste of liquorice and was a thick substance. His evening began to blur; it felt like a wheel slipping from its axis, wobbling somewhat.

Jake got screechier and screechier, He didn’t enjoy the objectification of women but it seemed Falkner was more than happy to get up on a podium and dance with a beautiful girl called Scarlet. Milo was so excited by the vast amount of beautiful girls but for now he wanted to be somewhat more conservative and not just rush into anything.

“Milo!” came a voice.

“Yea?” Milo said. His head was spinning wildly.

“You know whose here?” it was Jake’s voice.

“Who?” Milo said, ordering another drink.

Another drink. More spiky, sweet liquorice pangs. A song came on - it was so good. Jake’s chattering seemed to become drowned out, but Milo was intrigued at what he was trying to say. One of the girls dancing had the same eyes as Luna Fuerte.

If only Luna were here…

Because, Milo thought, wouldn’t things be so much better?

“Fuck it,” Milo said. “Hey baby!”

He wanted a lap dance from a girl who was serving some gentleman a drink. She had long, platinum blonde hair and was in a skimpy set of lingerie. Her body was fantastic (but they all were in this luxurious den) and Milo noticed a tattoo of a rose that went down her left ribcage.

“Just a minute,” she said.

“Hey!” Milo shouted. “BABY!”

“Will you give me a fucking minute?” she snapped. The girl turned around and met Milo’s gaze, causing him to gasp.

This was no random girl.

It was Gina Gourmante.

“Milo!” she cried.

“Gina!” Milo gasped. “What the fuck!?”

“Gina!” Jake cried. This must have been who he was referring to before.

“What on earth are you guys doing here?” Gina asked. “Jesus christ stop looking at my breasts Milo!”

“Haha,” Milo said. “You can be a prude all you want Gina, but not here. You’re paid for this!”

“Fucking rat,” Gina snapped.

“I want a lap dance,” Milo said, reaching for his wallet. “From you.”

“Shut up,” Jake said, shoving Milo lightly. He tumbled left and fell into a large potted plant. “Gina, why are you working here? What happened?”

“I…oh Jakey,” she said. Her eyes looked so sad, and her striking blonde hair made her seem somewhat surreal. “We’ll go for lunch tomorrow, talk about this. I really can’t talk too much at the moment.”

“I want my lap dance!” Milo said, still sitting in the large potted plant.

“Don’t be a dick Milo!” Jake said.

“You’ll have to wait,” Gina said, a hand on her hip. “I have a customer waiting now.”

“Boys!” came a yell.

Milo looked to see Falkner walk over, looking very drunk. He grabbed Gina’s bottom and her eyes widened slightly, but she did nothing to prevent him from his lecherous ways.

“Look who I’m getting a private show with,” Falkner chuckled. “Her name’s Melody, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Gina said stiffly. “Melody Maher.”

“So what do I get for a private session?” Falkner asked. Gina let out a sigh.

“Anything you want,” she said. “Come on, my private booth is just round here.”

And with that, Gina led Falkner through the crowded room. She cast one single, sad look back at Jake, but soon she had whisked the Violet City Gym Leader off for a special show. Milo heaved himself out of the potted plant and noticed Jake seemed quite low.

“You ok?” Milo asked.

“Why is she working here?” Jake asked, unable to comprehend what was going on. “She wanted to get her modelling contract back…or be an actress. This isn’t what she should be doing!”

Jake turned to Milo.

“And you wanted a lap dance off her! YOU’RE A PIG!”

“Jake calm down,” Milo said, hiccupping from the alcohol. The young boy’s face was like fire, but Milo’s sporadic hiccups were not helping the serious situation.

“What is it with you and power? You just want to objectify that girl because she used to look down on you! Now your Dad gave you some more money you can flash it around making women feel like crap. I won’t stand for it Milo! I WON’T!”

Milo couldn’t believe Jake’s passion about the subject. He stormed off angrily, leaving Milo to slump against the bar and order another drink.

Sip, sip. Spiky liquorice. Slimy substance. More and more drinks passed his lips and Milo noticed that he didn’t see Falkner emerge from his private session with Gina Gourmante. Clicking his tongue, he was glad that Luna hadn’t made an appearance tonight. She wouldn’t like this sort of atmosphere - Luna would fit in at a classy cocktail bar, enthralling all.

“Thinking about me?” came a coo. Milo looked to see the crowds had dispersed from the entire bar area. On the stage was Luna, looking precious and fragile in lacy French lingerie.

“Luna?” Milo asked.

“You just can’t get me out of your head, can you?” she said, looking down at him from the stage. She chuckled, “That’s sweet.”

“Where did everyone go?” Milo asked. “Jake? Gina?”

“You’re dreaming, sweetheart,” she cooed.

“Why are you in my dreams?” Milo asked.

“That’s your psyche’s prerogative,” she explained. “Simple as. It could manifest as me, or any other girl you fancy.”

“You’re not like the other girls,” Milo told her. “They don’t linger like you do. I can’t get you out of my head.”

“Would you want to?” she asked, sounding curious at his predicament.

“Do you think about me?” Milo asked.

“I’m a figment of your imagination, Milo,” Luna said. “I look like Luna. But what I say from these lips, and what you hear in your ears - they aren’t the words of Luna Fuerte.”

“I’m so confused,” Milo said, clutching his head. “My head hurts.”

“That’s the hangover, sweetie,” Luna told him.

BANG.

Milo’s eyes opened. He was on the floor of his hotel, and his head was pounding wildly. In the back of his throat Milo could taste bile - he must have been sick last night. The grain from the carpet had left a ribbed pattern on his arm and body.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “JAKE?”

There was silence throughout the hotel room. Then -

“WHAT?”

“You there mate?”

“Yea!”

“Sorry about last night,” Milo mumbled cautiously.

Another laboured pause.

“-WHAT?”

“I said I’m so-

“It’s water under the bridge,” Jake called back. “R-Remember last night?”

Milo thought for a moment.

He definitely did not remember much from last night.

“I remember … er did Luna turn up at the club?”

“…no.”

“Oh,” Milo said. “Think I dreamt that bit. I remember us arguing.”

“You don’t remember anything afterwards?”

“Nope. How did I get home?”

“Falkner lent us his Dodrio but you were sick on it,” Jake said. “Then it pecked you.”

Milo looked at his arm and saw a deep red scab had formed. In a flash, he remembered the sharp pain and the cold, fierce eyes of the triple-bird Pokemon.

“We had a heart to heart last night,” Jake said, walking into the room. He had buffalo check pyjama bottoms on and an old t-shirt. “And we agreed that we’d both just had too much to drink.”

“Agreed,” Milo moaned, starting to get up from the floor. “We were being stupid.”

Jake scanned Milo briefly, almost as if he was searching for something. Whatever it was, it seemed Jake didn’t find what he was looking for. He threw open the curtains and opened the window, looking out across Violet City.

The boys went to a café that sat in the shadow of the magnificent Sprout Tower. Milo, feeling lavish, ordered smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, while Jake had French toast and a cappuccino. The food was delicious, and the views in West Violet were fantastic.

Soon the boys began to chat about the next contest, after Jake had learned last night that the Cherrygrove Contest was to take place in two days. It made the most sense for Milo to get Cecilia’s car from their hotel’s parking lot and drive to the seaside city to compete. He could then drive back and compete in the Violet City contest, as that was not going to take place for a while.

“Just think,” Milo said. “I could be eligible for the Grand Festival in like, 2 weeks.”

“Fuck,” Jake said, his cappuccino missing his mouth and splashing down his front. “Oops.”

“I need to work on Magneton’s appeal,” Milo pondered. “We can work on it while we head to Cherrygrove, right?”

Jake seemed uncomfortable, and explained to Milo that he would rather stay in Violet City than go to Cherrygrove. Milo was confused, but the young stylist explained that he had an impassioned chat with Gina the night before, and was upset that she was stuck working in a seedy bar.

He went on to say how he sometimes felt inadequate because he didn’t do anything while he travelled with Milo - it sounded like sidekick syndrome. While he wanted to be a Pokemon stylist, Jake hadn’t pursued anything like that while he was travelling, and was beating himself up for playing second fiddle to Milo.

“It’s not like that though, is it?” Milo said. “If you had a different purpose, well we wouldn’t be in the same towns at the same time, would we?”

It seemed the boy had given this some thought though, for Jake was adamant that staying in Violet City was for the best. Milo felt surprised by Jake’s candour - he showed a fierce determination in wanting to stay here. It was odd, to say the least.

They finished their late breakfast and Milo decided that he should really start to make his way South-East to Cherrygrove City. He purchased a map and a few supplies for the trip, taking with him a smaller rucksack packed with a few clothes. Their tent, guitar and all manner of useless bits were left at the Violet Phoenix Hotel, which Jake would stay in for a few more days.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Milo asked, as he started up the car.

“I’m fine,” Jake replied, smiling.

He stood by the side of the road with Parasect, Ditto and Wingull all bidding Milo goodbye. Medicham sat in the passenger seat, using her psychic powers on the fluffy dice in the car. They bobbled excitedly and Medicham could hardly resist a cackle of delight.

They ended up having a bit of a chat in the middle of the road; Milo wasn’t used to saying goodbye to Jake and kept adding stray comments that turned into fresh conversation. Soon, Gina Gourmante walked down the street and came over to sere the boys. Jake explained that he was going to be keeping an eye on her while they were in Violet City.

“Are you off to Cherrygrove?” Gina asked Milo.

“Yea,” Milo said. “Fourth ribbon.”

“You’re doing well, I’ll admit,” she replied in her coarse British accent. “Cherrygrove’s supposed to be a nice one.”

“Are you going to compete in the next Violet City Contest?” Milo asked. Gina looked apprehensive, but Jake gave a firm nod on her behalf.

“Also,” Milo said. “I wasn’t a dick last night was I?”

“You weren’t out of character, put it that way,” Gina replied, arms folded. Milo smirked at her remark and, after another motorist beeped his horn in frustration, realised he had to go.

“Give me a text when you get to Cherrygrove!” Jake said.

“No problem,” Milo replied. “Bye Jakey.”

He pressed the accelerator and pulled out onto the road, waving goodbye to the two. Jake and Gina watched the car turn a corner and head through the city towards the toll gate, which would take Milo onto the Johto countryside.

“So,” Gina said. “What did Milo say when you told him you were in love with him?”

Jake stared at the ground.

“He doesn’t remember,” he replied. Gina pulled a sour face.

“What, at all?”

“At all.”

“You’d think you’d remember something like that,” Gina remarked.

“Well he didn’t.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Gina said. “If Milo knows you’re in love with him, things might get a bit confusing for you both.”

“Probably,” Jake muttered.



Next: Chapter 24
On his way to Cherrygrove City Milo runs into a fellow coordinator desperate to win at the upcoming contest. But the cheery girl's sinister undertones suggest she will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Meanwhile, Jake learns just how low Gina sunk to make ends meet - and undertakes a risky mission to help her get back on track.



Notes
-So for the next couple of chapters Jake and Milo are going to be doing their own thing. I thought it was a cool idea getting them to do things a little differently.

-It stemmed from an early idea when I was drafting out the route Milo was going to take in the fic. Obviously he started at Olivine, not New Bark, and the group are going to go back through Ecruteak later on as they head East.

-I didn't want them going to Cherrygrove and New Bark for seperate arcs only to have them return to Violet then return to Ecruteak.

-So I decided Milo would go to Cherrygrove for a brief visit and Jake would stay in Violet.

-There's a reason Jake wouldn't go to the city. I'll explore it soon.

-Meanwhile Jake gets to develop a few storylines with Gina. I thought they were interesting characters when I paired them together during The Goldenrod Contest and wanted to revisit that a little bit.

-I really like Gina. I think she's a bit fucked up, and she's had a really tough time, but it's interesting seeing her compared to how we met her in Ch2 - a high maintenence model. She'll stick around for a bit.

-What do you guys think of the re-introduction of Luna? Let me know

-And Jake's admission at the end...????

I'd love to hear your thoughts guys!

[Sike Saner]

“I just saw a mental apparition of a man get murdered last night,” Milo said. “Give me some fucking space!”

Heh. That makes me wish we still had the whole Best Lines of the Month thing going on. I think it'd be a shoo-in--

“Piss fuck cocking tit-wank.”

--Assuming this didn't wind up taking first place instead, that is.

“Falkner lent us his Dodrio but you were sick on it,” Jake said. “Then it pecked you.”

Heh, that's pretty amusing.

“Also,” Milo said. “I wasn’t a dick last night was I?”

“You weren’t out of character, put it that way,” Gina replied, arms folded.

Great response from Gina there.



Poor Jake... Unrequited love's rough.

And yay for more Luna! I wonder if she'll be facing off against Milo again sometime, and if so, when and where.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Hi Chris.

I really liked the last few chapters, a lot.

The Golden Arc was great, and I'm still searching how all of this fits together. Very well writen.

Last chapter, wth. Jake and Milo shipping? To bad for Jake though. Thanks god for alcohol. I'm curious how this will further evolve.

Poor Gina. She reminds me of a friend of mine. It's a tough world out there!

Loving Luna, give me more. She should probably crush Milo and all of his dreams, since she's about the only one who can

I think I have tons more to say, but it's all I can manage right now.

Keep up the nice work! Best pokemon fic I've read in five years.

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: Hey! With Luna I've tried a different approach; to Milo, she's always out of reach. He hasn't even spoken to her since Ecruteak City, but since she's manifested in his thoughts, I think Milo feels they're a lot closer than they are.

Milo's definitely going to try and get closer to Luna, and may find his chance in the next chapter!

As for Jake....it's been something I've thought about for a while. You'll have to see where it goes.


MLG: Hey! I'm so glad you like the fic. Your feedback continues to inspire me. The next part of the golden arc will shed a lot of light on where things are going and I just know you'll dig it.

I think Gina's character is developing and fleshing out - I've always had a soft spot for her and I think it took people a while to 'get' her. She'll feature quite a bit in future chaps.

As for Luna, she's such a mysterious character. I think it was a shock for Milo to see how accomplished she was; if you recall, she wasn't even in the finals for the Ecruteak Ribbon - Milo beat her, and then Daniel and his Donphan to earn the prize. So she's clearly gained a lot of skill.


Next part of the Golden Arc soon!

[Chris 2.1]

Didn't think I'd get this done so quickly!

The Golden Arc
Five
Diamond Fizz

Jasmine’s heart was pounding. But Lorelei exuded an aura of pure cool. As the sleek black car lay smashed on the side of the road - with Michael still inside - Metagross observed the humans with his beady eyes. The creature was levitating with his legs tucked beneath his flat stomach.

Was Michael ok? Lorelei ordered Jasmine to stay and fight the large steel Pokemon with her, and Jasmine didn’t trust the manic woman enough to go against her wishes. She was often erratic.

“Jynx!” Lorelei screeched. “Let’s execute a kamikaze combo!”

She turned to look at Jasmine; eyes framed by her garish red spectacles, she looked fierce. This was not the woman giggling in the helicopter or flirting with Michael Mitchelson. Something was different.

“Use Empoleon to keep Metagross busy,” she said.

“Okay!” Jasmine replied. “Empoleon! Aqua Jet!”

Bursting into a torpedo of water, Empoleon sped into the air and aimed at Metagross. The creature shimmered briefly, and a powerful psychic blast hurled Empoleon back. Jasmine watched as the stream of water was ruptured; large beads of water dolloped to the ground as Empoleon arched back and smashed into the ground.

“Are you okay?” Jasmine asked. The bird got to his feet and nodded at her, holding his sharp wings up like weapons. Metagross floated closer to them as Jynx stood rooted to the spot, eyes closed.

“Go for a bubble beam.”

Opening his beak the creature fired off thick bubbles in rapid succession. They shot through the air like bullets, smashing into the foe’s steel frame and bursting upon impact. Metagross frowned and focused hard; his psychic energy manifested into a tremor that shook across the forest path.

“He’s using his telekinesis to make an earthquake!” Jasmine said. “Empoleon! Jump!”

“Jynx, focus,” Lorelei said.

Empoloen leapt up and span around in the air, firing off white-hot blades of energy at the foe. Jasmine didn’t understand what Jynx was doing; it looked like absolutely nothing.

“Okay!” Lorelei barked. “Mean Look!”

“You’re keeping Metagross here?” Jasmine cried. Jynx waved her arms and her hair began to sweep around her face wildly. The area around Metagross rippled and distorted slightly; he didn’t seem to pay any attention to it.

“We need it to stay here. It can’t escape,” she said.

“I don’t understand!” Jasmine said, as the creature uprooted trees around them.

“You wouldn’t!” Lorelei cried. Seconds later she was hurtled up into the air by Metagross, screaming out into the skies. Jasmine saw Jynx use her own psychic powers to catch her trainer and gently lower her back down to the ground.

Picking up her glasses from the floor, Lorelei ordered a perish song from her Pokemon. A shrill series of haunting notes echoed out from the purple-skinned creature; it was sombre, aching, painful.

On hearing the notes, Jasmine thought of Morty. Where was he now? Maybe he was thinking of Jasmine as he spent time with his girlfriend, Rochelle. Would he ever come back to Michael? It was unlikely. If he didn’t like Jasmine wielding a gun, Morty would be horrified at the sociopath Lorelei.

Jasmine tried shutting out the tainted misery in the air and focused on battling Metagross. Empoleon leapt to the side as Metagross raced along with a meteor mash; a glowing, clawed arm shimmered wildly as the creature propelled itself through the air with telekinesis.

“Okay, so Metagross can’t escape the area,” Jasmine said. “So why is Empoleon battling it?”

“Perish Song isn’t some sort of vocal overdose,” Lorelei snapped. “It drains the foe beyond belief. You need to wear it out so that Perish Song will work.”

“But Empoleon will get drained!” Jasmine said.

“We’ll heal him later!” Lorelei said, a wild fire burning in her eyes. She was becoming intense. “Jynx! Calm mind! Focus your energy!”

“And what are you doing?” Jasmine asked.

“WILL YOU JUST FIGHT THE FUCKING METAGROSS!”

“Ok!” she cried. “Jesus. Empoleon!”

Metagross flew through the air and slugged Empoleon with a meteor mash. The ferocious punch connected with the Pokemon’s stomach and he flew back through the air. He looked around, bewildered slightly.

Empoleon was not the right choice for battling Metagross. Jasmine held a Pokeball out and recalled the creature in an aura of red light; it would mean that he wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion so quickly. Lorelei whipped her hair around and looked at Jasmine, confused at her actions.

“What are you doing!”

“Empoleon’s attacks aren’t working!” Jasmine said. “I’m sending someone else out. GO!”

She hurled the Pokeball through the air and it burst open in a flurry of sparks. What emerged was a tiny creature; bright orange with blinking eyes, contained within a blue plasma. Two sharp, pronged appendages extened and retracted at will.

“What the fuck is that!?” said Lorelei.

“Rotom,” Jasmine replied.

“WHAT IS A ROTOM!?”

“Just calm down!” Jasmine said. “Rotom! Fire off a thunderbolt!”

Metagross saw the creature let off a large, intense blast of sparks that flew through the air like a golden javelin. Effortlessly the foe used a psychic to divert the attack; the bolts whipped round and smashed into a tree, causing it to burst into flames.

“OH GOOD WORK!” shouted Lorelei. Her voice was breaking and her hair looked frazzled. She seemed stressed. “This Pokemon is powerful enough to kill us all! Stick to the plan!”

“If it’s so strong why did you trap it here with mean look?” Jasmine argued.

“Because someone sent this to attack us. That means if it goes away, it will come back stronger. Maybe it’s reading our minds as we speak! We can’t let it escape. We need to destroy it!”

“Rotom,” Jasmine said, exhausted from her ally. “Shadow ball. Go!”

Rotom nodded and his tendrils extended. Between their fine tips he began to charge a glossy orb of condensed shadow; Metagross saw this and let out a long, rattling screech before unleashing another psychic tremor.

The quake shook Jasmine and she collapsed to the ground; Lorelei staggered back while Jynx took some damage. She was still using calm mind, and seemed impervious as the Perish Song filled the air yet again. Since Empoleon was recalled, and Jynx seemed so contained, it was only Metagross who seemed to suffer.

As the song filled the air, Metagross gave a groan and began to dip from his position floating in mid-air. He seemed pained, but was fighting it. With a casual flick of his claw he sent Jynx flying into the wrecked car, but he seemed weaker.

“He’s succumbing to it!” Lorelei shouted. “Jynx! Sheer Cold!”

Jasmine saw everything in slow motion. Jynx held her hands out and her gloved fingertips sparkled brilliantly. A fantastic beam of light burst from the Pokemon, energy encased in pure ice. It twinkled as it tore through the air like a brilliant intergalactic train.

The diamond sheen on the attack reflected the light and smashed into Metagross’s frame. The creature flew back through the woods and smashed into a large fir tree, tearing it down in the process. The creaking crack that followed the large tree’s demise rang out through the clearing.

Lorelei ran over to the spot where Metagross lay. Jasmine warily followed. The creature’s legs were splayed out and it had its eyes closed; a soft icy sheen coated its body.

“Is it defeated?” Jasmine asked. Metagross twitched; Jasmine staggered to the side.

“No,” Lorelei replied. “Jynx, go.”

She wiggled forward and placed both her hands on the creature’s body. Jasmine wasn’t sure what was going on, so she watched from afar with the excitable Rotom.

Jynx let out a long, deep, heaving groan; she kept her hands firmly planted on the foe as a glow took over her body. Icy crystals sparkled around her fingers and Jynx pressed harder onto the Pokemon.

“Focus,” Lorelei whispered; a timid, careful gasp.

Metagross lay silent as Jynx concentrated; Jasmine let out a shiver as the atmosphere dropped and the same familiar feeling she had from Lorelei’s cold handshake came flooding back.

Then, with a snap, Jynx sent a flooding icy wave into Metagross. Jasmine watched, awe-struck, as Metagross’s body became lost beneath an intense, frozen assault. The deep blue of the creature’s body became lost, diluted beneath the strong, icy sheen. His eyes swam in empty space.

But he wasn’t being encased in a block of ice. Rather, Jynx was permeating the creature in ice, sending freezing tendrils deep into the Pokemon’s body.

Jynx looked exhausted as she took a step back, admiring her work. The Metagross was stiffer than before, it looked lifeless. Just when Jasmine was about to speak up, Metagross trembled. Another snap echoed out and the sound of breaking glass -

Metagross burst into a thousand tiny chunks; they flooded outward and slid across the dry forest ground, some larger, some smaller, one hitting Jasmine in the torso. She let out a gasp as Metagross, completely frozen, literally shattered before her.

“My god!” she cried.

One chunky berg of ice showed parts of Metagross’ claw. Another, that slid to Jasmine’s feet, was simply an eyeball, frozen solid. A frosty fog filled the area as the cold moisture permeated the air but Lorelei looked cosy and confident.

“It’s…I mean, is it even dead?” Jasmine asked.

“It doesn’t even exist,” Lorelei said, in a cold, emotionless voice.

The two girls walked back to the car and saw Michael trapped inside. He was fine, but some twisted metal pinned him to the wreckage. Jynx worked her magic to free the man, who was soon filled in on what happened.

“All I could hear was you two arguing,” Michael said, dusting himself off. “You’re going to have to work on that.”

“Why?” Jasmine asked.

“Lorelei is going to be your new partner,” Michael said.

“Oh fuck,” Jasmine said.

“I’m no happier about it than you are, Princess,” the woman said. “Michael, we destroyed the Metagross. I think it was sent to gather information off us.”

“Indeed,” Michael said. “Metagross have a highly complex neural network. Their four brains work with one another so intricately we still don’t know the extent of their abilities.”

“How big a threat could they be?” Jasmine asked.

“Imagine, for a moment, a cocktail party. When someone says an inappropriate comment. The atmosphere in the room changes, and you can sense that. Everyone understands something about the atmosphere of the room but there isn’t actually anything to observe. It’s a sense.

“Imagine if you had four brains. What else could you perceive, or gather? What could you sense? We believe Metagross, with their superior brains, could sense what lies in the hearts of their enemies. What drives them to despair, to ruin. Could they sense a relationship between two people?

“They are dangerous and we had to destroy the one that had been sent to us. If it left this forest, who knows what secrets it could have taken with it? It may have known who my wife is or how to earn my daughter’s trust.”

“I see,” Jasmine replied.

“I will ring for Andrew to send a car so we can get back to the helicopter and return to Goldenrod,” Michael said, getting his phone out.

Jasmine looked across at Lorelei. She received the epitome of a frosty look.

*

It had been a long day. Michael sat at his desk, swathed in darkness save for an ornate lamp at his side. Lorelei and Jasmine were at loggerheads, but it was necessary for them to work together. They needed to learn to get on, for there were far too many enemies they faced. They needed to be united.

“Bill, can you come through when you have time?” Michael said to his intercom. His computer was being strange; the screen was fuzzy and distorted. “Having some computer issues here.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” came the British accent.

Michael stared at the screen. It was all wrong, all muddled - this would not do at all. The computer was brand new, how was it that it was not working? Among the grey fuzz was a small pink dot.

Clicking it was useless, or so Michael thought. He was suddenly overcome with pain as a bolt of lightning burst from his computer; it struck him in the chest and he fell backwards from his chair, paralysed.

“Ungh!”

“I’d advise you not to talk,” came a voice. A voice filled the room. From the floor, Michael scanned the area. Nobody was here. But the pink dot on his screen was growing larger and larger.

“Who are you?”

The fuzz on the screen was gone. Instead, a live feed of a suited man could be seen. He sat in a regal chair and had slick, grey hair.

“Michael Mitchelson,” the man said. “My name is Steven Stone. And I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

Michael said nothing, feeling the breath in his chest get shorter. He didn’t know this man, but he sounded familiar.

“I run the Devon Corporation, in Hoenn. You might remember trying to liquidise the company and merge it with your own Mitchelson Enterprises. We have met, I think. At stuffy business dinners where hearts are worn on sleeves. But it’s funny how we meet tonight. Vastly different circumstances.

“Maybe you’re wondering how it is that I talk to you? I introduce you to the marvel that is PorygonZ. I know you’ve a Porygon at your company, but this creature I possess - inflicted with the most advanced Devon technology - can do things Porygon can only dream of.

“It exists almost entirely in cyberspace, to the point that the fragments remaining in its corporeal form are of lunacy and insanity. It is an unstable Pokemon - perhaps more research can prevent that. But it can do anything, and it managed to locate your office, and find out who you are. I can finally put a name to you.

“I’ve been looking for you for some time, Michael. My company funds a lot of the crime that goes on in Goldenrod City - it’s a long, winding paper trail, which is why you haven’t been able to link me to the corruption in the capital - but rest assured I take full responsibility for orchestrating the thefts. And all my sources tell me that you and your vigilante group are destroying my trade. Recovering Pokemon. That makes me very angry, Michael.

“Especially when one of your agents - a girl named Jasmine - was responsible for murdering my agent, Adam Anderson. This same girl tried playing double agent and did some work for Largo LeGrande…that is playing a dangerous game, Michael. And rest assured when I end this call I am going to find this girl and kill her in the most violent way possible.

“I contacted you, Michael, because I want you to stop what you’re doing. I’m not having you interfere any more with my plans. Because if you try to do so, Michael, I’m going to use this PorygonZ to infiltrate your computer. Your security cameras. Your life. I’m going to find out every single shred of information on you so that I can bring your world to ruins. I will murder your wife, Meredith. I’ll murder your daughter, Mia. I’ll murder your son, Milo. And when I’ve killed every person you love I will kill you only when you’re begging me to do so. Do you understand?”

Michael croaked, struggling to get to his feet.

“One of the cells in Goldenrod is doing another raid next week. It’s going to be a big one. We are storming the Exhibition Match at Goldenrod Gym and we are going to take Pokemon from the gym leader there. We will also be stealing from the crowd who are attending as we believe there will be some valuable Pokemon.

“Now, I’m telling you this because this is a warning. It is a high profile raid. And now you know about it. If the operation is botched, and someone - anyone - interferes with proceedings, then I will know you have sent your agents out. And I’ll go ahead with the whole…killing your family…’thing’. I think that is good enough motivation for you to leave me and my company alone.”

Michael’s heart was racing; the stinging pains in his chest were lessening and he grabbed the arm of his swivel chair to heave himself up; he fell back down and the chair collapsed beside him. Steven Stone’s thin lips curled into a smile.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Michael. Good night.”

Gradually, the picture resumed to the email Michael had been sending before PorygonZ interfered. Michael was breathing in short gasps as he lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“Mr Mitchelson!”

Bill came rushing into the room, seeing Michael on the floor. Michael stared up at him; his face was stained with tears.

“Are you okay? Mr Mitchelson! What happened!”

Bill gripped Michael’s hand and helped him up; his legs felt weak, so he opted to sit down in his chair. Bill stared at Michael with shock and concern. Michael was in floods of tears; his heart felt damaged, sore, but it was an emotional pain.

“What’s wrong, Michael?”

“W-We have to abort,” Michael gasped.

“Abort what?” Bill said.

“The - everything,” he stammered. “We need to stop everything. The whole thing.”

“Why on earth would we do that?” Bill said. Michael wiped the tears on his sleeve and took a deep gulp.

“B-Because they know who we are,” he said in a soft, delicate tone. “They’re going to kill everyone. We have to stop what we’re doing, Bill.”

Bill gave a nod. He seemed to understand.

“I can’t have anyone’s blood on my hands,” Michael said. “I can’t.”

Steven’s wry smile still stuck in Michael’s mind. As Bill went to inform the agents and manage the closure of the operation, Michael felt a gut-wrenching sickness in his stomach. Hiding behind a veil had been fine, but now he was exposed to the enemy, and felt utterly helpless.





Notes
-I don't know how I wrote this so quickly? Most of it was done today.

-As you know I plan a lot in advance. This has been a plot I have had in mind for a while and I'm very pleased with how it came out.

-I wanted to get across that Steven isn't like Giovanni - he isn't the head honcho of an evil team - but he's a businessman who is funding the crime syndicates in Goldenrod. Those are all intricately linked with their own people running and managing them - but the money comes almost entirely from Steven.

-I think people like Largo LeGrande probably don't even know who Steven is.

-In this fic, Steven isn't really a Pokemon Trainer. I think he has one or two strong Pokemon but he probably didn't train them himself. I always imagined him as a cut-throat businessman.

-As for Lorelei, I want to get across her odd behavior, her almost schitzophrenic personality...she's a loose cannon, but she gets things done. Jasmine doesn't like her because she likes to be organised, you know? With Lorelei, she has no clue what's going to happen, and that scares Jas.

-Has Steven Stone been mentioned before in the fic?

re-read the scene where Milo saw Keadis's death.

Hopefully things are beginning to piece together!


Thanks guys!

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Poor Meta

So Michael's finally gone scared. Good. Let's see how this works out.

I wanna hear more about Chuck and his role in this.

Gonna re-read scenes as you told us.

I'm sensing a much bigger plot that has yet to be unfold. Can't wait!

Lorlei is also pretty sweet, her over-reacted behaviour doesn't seem to fit her icy personality though.

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: If you re-read the scene at the end of Ch22 (where Milo sees Keadis' murder) it might help given what you know from this extra.

You'll get to see Chuck soon. I'm really looking forward to writing it! Last we saw he was meeting Oscar, but what on earth is he up to?

As for Lorelei...hmm. I think she's a bit all-over-the-place. Quite hot-headed, irratic, but sometimes relaxed. Just a bit psycho really :/. I wanted to allude in the last Golden Arc chap that she had killed a lot of people and gone a bit over the edge working for Michael. I think she lost the plot a long time ago.

[Sike Saner]

But he wasn’t being encased in a block of ice. Rather, Jynx was permeating the creature in ice, sending freezing tendrils deep into the Pokemon’s body.

Jynx looked exhausted as she took a step back, admiring her work. The Metagross was stiffer than before, it looked lifeless. Just when Jasmine was about to speak up, Metagross trembled. Another snap echoed out and the sound of breaking glass -

Metagross burst into a thousand tiny chunks; they flooded outward and slid across the dry forest ground, some larger, some smaller, one hitting Jasmine in the torso. She let out a gasp as Metagross, completely frozen, literally shattered before her.

“My god!” she cried.

One chunky berg of ice showed parts of Metagross’ claw. Another, that slid to Jasmine’s feet, was simply an eyeball, frozen solid.

D:

D: D: D:

Holy shit.


Very gripping and memorable installment there. And kudos for using rotom and porygon-z this time around.

[Chris 2.1]

Hey guys, new chapter! Hope you are all having a wicked christmas and new year!

Show-Off
-XXIV-
Painkiller

She looked hungry, hopping along the hot earth and pecking quickly. It was a hot day and the soiled path was dry and parched. Nipping a flea tucked beneath her wing, the Pidgey looked around - it was quiet here, with no wind. Serenity, it must be said.

A bolt of lightning rocketed through the air and smashed into the ground, startling the bird. A huge metallic creature cartwheeled along the road emitting bright, hot sparks. Pidgey looked to the skies and bolted; this was far too dangerous.

The Magneton let off a tinkling screech as a ball of fire was launched in his direction. Sweeping into the sky he used his eyes to detect the source of the extra heat; a black dog bounded and leapt along through the dry, brittle grass.

“Shock wave!” came Milo’s cry.

Magneton nodded and his magnetic units throbbed dimly; a ball of sparks burst from his shiny body towards the young foe; sensing the impending attack, it leapt to the side, but the large orb burst into two smaller balls of lightning. Soon each of these burst again, and again, until a fizzing web of electricity smashed into Houndour and hurtled the dog to the ground.

The dog got up and snarled, but it seemed the steel type was not intimidated easily. With his body pulsating, Magneton unleashed a swift attack to rain down on the opponent. Houndour was lithe, leaping left and right as the stars peppered the ground.

“Thunderwave!”

Houndour let out a roar and blasted another fireball into the air, causing Magneton to spin out the way. The electric tendrils fired off at the wrong angle and missed completely.

Milo’s heart was beating wildly as he ran along the path to watch the battle. Cecilia’s car was parked nearby and he had been taking a quick break on the road to Cherrygrove when the wild Pokemon came into view. Houndour’s fire attacks ignited a passion in Milo that he hadn’t felt for some time.

“Lock-on!” he cried. With his eyes flashing red, Magneton focused on Houndour’s form. The dog barked loudly and seemed to know what was coming; he began blasting more and more fire from his fanged mouth in an attempt to strike Magneton.

However the Pokemon unleashed a wild bolt that flew through the air and blasted into Houndour. His body twitched and spasmed as he was thrown off his feet; Milo saw him roll along the ground nearby and eagerly ordered another attack.

“Sonicboom!”

With a shattering crack, Magneton unleashed a powerful blast of energy that smashed into Houndour further. Milo smiled at the creature as it lay on the ground, seemingly without the strength to fight back. He felt in his pocket for a Pokeball to catch the beast when he realised he had none.

In fact, he hadn’t bought Pokeballs for some time.

Jake had lent him the sparkly disco-ball for when he captured Totodile all those months back. Scyther was caught with a special Park Ball, and Magnemite had been captured on the outskirts of Goldenrod City with a regular Pokeball Milo had found in a dustbin. He was too far from any shops to buy any now, and as the black dog stirred, Milo bit his lip in frustration.

“Are you going to catch that?” came a voice.

Milo looked to see a plump girl watching from afar.

“Erm,” he said. “I am, yea. But…no Pokeballs!”

“I have some,” the girl said, reaching into a shoulder bag. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Milo said. The girl cleared her throat.

“£80.”

“What!?” Milo said. “They cost £50 in stores!”

“Then go to a store!” the girl said, smiling. “And let that Pokemon get away…”

“Fucking hell,” Milo said, reaching into his wallet. Houndour was starting to stir, and he needed to try capturing it as soon as possible. After giving the girl the money, and receiving the blue and red Great Ball, Milo rubbed the dirt from it and looked back at his prey.

“Magneton,” Milo said. “Fire a thunder wave to keep it in place.”

Magneton bleeped and unleashed a string of fizzing sparks that smashed into Houndour’s frame and caused him to shudder and shake. Magneton’s accuracy was excellent.

“Okay,” Milo said, arching his arm back. He threw the ball into the air, watching it soar towards Houndour and tap into the dog’s body. The ball flipped back and burst open, pulling the creature inside with a strong, twinkling blue light.

The ball, once full, snapped shut and fell into the dry grass. Milo watched keenly as the ball wiggled; Houndour was trying to get out, trying to fight the force of the Pokeball. After a while, he gave up, surrendering to the strong output. The ball let off a ping.

“It worked!” Milo said, smiling. “Get in!”

Medicham, who had been watching this while sitting on the bonnet of Cecilia’s car, clicked her fingers, and the Great Ball sailed through the air and into Milo’s waiting hands. The Great Ball was scratched and had a small dent in the top, but it was a handsome colour, and Milo was excited at training the Pokemon inside.

“Thanks for your help, Magneton,” Milo said.

“And thanks to me,” the plump girl called, jabbing her thumb into her chest.

“Yea, thanks,” Milo said. “Fucking rip-off merchant.”

“Hey, I did you a favour,” she said.

“Well thanks,” he replied. “I’m Milo.”

“I know who you are, Milo Mitchelson,” she replied smugly.

“How?”

“We’ve met before, at the Olivine Contest,” the girl said. “I’m Nanette. Nanette Babcock?”

Milo stared vacantly at her.

“I sat next to you backstage. We were both in awe at the beautiful Gina Gourmante. You said I smelled of wet dog.”

Milo gave a light shrug.

“You don’t remember!?”

“No! I do,” Milo lied. “But. I have…a…tumour?”

“A tumour?”

“It makes me forget…names.”

“But you recognise my face?” Nanette retorted.

Milo looked at the girl - the epitome of pity - and realised he would definitely remember a girl who looked like this. She resembled a squashed cream cake; she wore bright garish clothes that didn’t match and her cheeks were rosy red.

“No,” Milo said. “Um. My tumour makes me forget faces.”

“Oh quit with the tumour story, it’s very bad taste,” Nanette snapped. “You should be ashamed of yourself Milo.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. Nanette pulled a sour face.

“It’s fine,” she sniffed. “Happens, I suppose.”

“So are you heading to Cherrygrove?” Milo asked.

“I am, indeed,” she said. “Competing in the contest. You?”

“Same,” Milo said. “Competing for my fourth contest ribbon.”

“Fourth?” Nanette said. “But you haven’t been doing this long at all! That’s very impressive. A mean feat, I suppose.”

“How many do you have,” Milo asked.

“Still the one,” Nanette said. “Here’s hoping I get my second in Cherrygrove.”

“Hmm, well, we’ll see,” Milo said, trying not to stifle a laugh. “Look, I feel like a massive douche for forgetting you. I’m driving to Cherrygrove City, so, do you want a lift?”

“Oh! Well that would be wonderful,” Nanette said, clasping her hands together. “I hate walking. I don’t have any stamina. It’s because I have a condition.”

Can’t-put-the-cake-down-itis, Milo thought.

“It won’t take long at all,” Milo said. He got out Magneton’s Pokeball and recalled him. “Medi, you’re gonna have to take the back seat.”

Medicham placed a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes as Nanette got in the front seat of the car. Milo got into the drivers side and shut the door.

“Can the seat move back?” Nanette said, struggling with a lever by the side.

“It should,” Milo said, starting the car up.

“It’s not working,” she said, her knees forced against the dashboard. Milo looked in the mirror and saw Medicham using her psychic to force the seat as far forward as possible.

He decided not to say anything. The journey would be far more enjoyable.

*

Nanette Babcock, it seemed, came from good stock. She was an animated character and enjoyed talking during the drive through countryside to Cherrygrove. Medicham lay across the back seats, bored with the girl’s chatter, but Milo thought it was nice having a bit of company.

The girl had competed in almost every contest hall in Johto but still had only one ribbon. From her stories, it sounded as if her team was underdeveloped, and she didn’t spend time training them at all. Milo wondered how on earth she got the first ribbon, but kept his thoughts to himself.

She was halfway through a story, with Milo paying more attention to the road than listening to what she had to say. Their drive was quiet, tranquil, and the roaring crash of the ocean could be heard as they neared the coast.

“And Luna was like, you should definitely do that,” Nanette babbled.

“Luna?” Milo said, coming out a trance. “Luna Fuerte?”

“Yes,” Nanette said. “Were you not listening?”

“Not one bit,” Milo muttered. “You know Luna?”

“We’re best friends!” Nanette cried. “Honestly Milo, you’ll never get laid if you don’t pay women attention.”

“I do just fine, thank you,” Milo said.

“As I was saying, Luna and I go way back. It was her that inspired me to get into coordinating.”

“I…I met her in Ecruteak,” Milo said. “And I saw her win the Violet City Ribbon.”

“Oh yes, she’s doing very well,” Nanette said. “We used to travel together, but I was slowing Luna down, you see.”

“Oh, right.”

“It’s just that I lack stamina, I suppose,” Nanette mused. “But Luna did talk about you at some length. She was very impressed by your coordinating, I gather.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know what she planned after Violet City,” Nanette admitted. “Neither does she. Luna follows her instincts, never plans a thing.”

Milo gripped the wheel and looked back at the road. Nanette Babcock may have some benefits after all.

*

It seemed different without Milo. Jake sat at a table in a funky Violet City Café and felt the power of everything around him - the blue of the sky, the height of the buildings, the chatter and bustle of people - it all felt a bit intense.

Still, it was probably good they had some time apart. Jake felt sad that Milo forgot their heart-to-heart the previous night and wondered what he should do, but put his feelings to one side as Gina came down the street.

She looked stunning in a Rolling Stones t-shirt and ripped jeans. It was so casual but clever, and even walking down the street Gina captured the essence of a runway model.

“You look great,” Jake said, smiling as Gina sat down with him.

“You’re sweet,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Missing Milo?”

“A little,” Jake admitted. “I’m not sure what to do without him.”

“Well why did you choose to stay here?” Gina asked.

“I just felt…I needed some space. Especially since I told him…you know,” Jake said. Gina nodded. “It is nice to be apart, and just breathe a bit of fresh air. But I was really concerned about you, Gina.”

“Me?” she asked.

“Glamour model turned pole-dancer? What’s that about?”

“Well, when you put it like that!” Gina said, cackling. Her laugh was spiky, rough and abrasive, but there was an odd charm in it. “After I lost the Goldenrod Contest, I lost my modelling contract. And I knew that if I was going to get more interest from agents, I’d have to win another ribbon. I came to Violet City to do just that.

“But times were hard, and I hadn’t trained much. I lost in my first attempt at the contest and my confidence was shattered. I started waitressing at TupTup, just to earn a little money, you know. And then the owner of the club told me about the exclusive members area downstairs. Would I be interested in doing some dancing, he said? I said no until I realised how much money you make.

“So I sold out. Started hanging out in the cultural gutter of the city. But it’s fine. I have a roof over my head.”

“What about your contest career?” Jake said. “Milo has three ribbons now. And it sounds like you haven’t got much further. If you don’t work hard, you won’t make it to the Grand Festival!”

Gina sighed.

“I know,” she said. “But I can’t leave Violet City yet.”

“Why not?” Jake asked. Gina sniffed.

“I was hard done-by a while back…and I had to resort to desperate measures to get by.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked. “Gina?”

“I sold my Misdreavus,” she said. “To a Pawn Shop in town.”

“Oh my god,” Jake said. “Gina!”

“I know! I’m a terrible person!” Gina said. “But I needed money, badly! And Misdreavus are rare. I want her back, but the guy has doubled the price I got paid for her. I don’t want to leave until I can earn the money to get my Pokemon back.”

“You can’t wait around that long!” Jake said. “What if she gets sold to someone else?”

“Well…”

“We’ve both been the victim of thefts,” Jake said to her. “And I won’t have you lose another Pokemon because of this. Gina, we’re going to get your Pokemon back tonight.”

“How?” she asked.

“We’ll break in,” Jake said firmly.

*

Cherrygrove was the ultimate seaside destination in the Johto region. It was a small city with a warm climate that sat in a gentle cove by the beautiful waters of the Whirl Ocean. Milo drove the car to the Cliffside and manoeuvred it down the tight, winding bends, enjoying the crisp, salty breeze.

He felt optimistic about the contest but wasn’t quite sure of the regulations. His first priority would be to learn everything he could about the rules. Nanette was talking animatedly about her entries for the contest, promising an explosive appeal. Milo ignored much of her chatter.

“So, er, tell me more about Luna,” he said.

“What do you want to know?” Nanette asked.

“Is she seeing anyone?”

Milo tried to remain casual but he was gripping the steering wheel tightly and had no light heartedness in his voice whatsoever. It seemed Nanette was oblivious to this, however.

“No, she’s single,” Nanette said. “She has always been quite picky about guys. I don’t think she likes to let people know the real her.”

“Is she hiding something?” Milo asked. He instantly regretted such an intrusive question but it seemed Nanette did not notice the lack of tact.

“She’s had a tough life,” Nanette explained.

“Shit,” Milo said. The more he learned of the girl - even the smallest bites of information - the more he became fascinated with her. Had she suffered loss in her life? Maybe Milo could ease her pain. If only he could find her, reach her -

“MILO!”

“Sorry!” Milo said, as the car veered to the edge of the road. He steered it back to the middle of the winding path and apologised again. Medicham was chuckling from the backseat.

Soon the car made its way into the centre of Cherrygrove. Milo was so distracted by the beautiful white houses and the beach front that he stopped looking for somewhere to park, and instead drove around the town at a slow, leisurely speed. It was a breezy, sunny day and a cluster of Jumpluff were spiralling into the sky excitedly.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Nanette said.

“The Cherrygrove residents seen so tanned,” Milo said. They passed a convenience store and a small Pokemoncenter. Milo was reminded of Azalea Town.

Nanette explained she was staying at the Grove Hotel in the centre of the city and Milo decided to take her there to see if he could get a room himself. He was able to get a single room and parked the car at the underground car park.

After unpacking and having a shower, Milo changed into something more comfortable for the weather. He paired his cargo shorts with an aquamarine polo shirt and slipped his old flip flops onto his feet. It was nice to let his feet breathe, but Milo noticed he could really do with cutting his toenails.

“It can wait,” he muttered. More important was the impending contest.

Since it was a small city, Milo walked to the contest hall after getting directions from some very friendly residents. It was a dome-shaped building, pink and leaf-green, and it looked as if the roof retracted, exposing the stage to the sky.

Inside, Milo spoke with the lady at the reception and registered for the contest, which was in two days time. She informed him that the hall was also used as a rehearsal space for coordinators, and that if he was interested, Milo was able to practice appeals there before the contest. Deciding that he needed to pick his team for the contest, Milo went to practice.

He walked into the empty contest hall, noticing that a boy was on the stage with his Sandslash. A few people were sitting on the red seats, watching with intrigue as he practised. Milo’s first observation on the man, who had a thick, gelled quiff, was that he was very long; his arms and legs seemed unusually gangly.

“SSSSandslash!” hissed the man in a heavy Hispanic accent. “Execute the pin needle!”

The mouse, quite slender were it not for the large, thick spikes covering its back, leapt into the air and tucked into a ball. It then whipped around in mid-air at such a ferocious speed that white-hot needles flew out in all directions.

At first it seemed they were exploding, but Milo looked closer. Sandslash was expelling needles so brittle they snapped as they left his body. They popped like fireworks, with shards falling to the ground. Sandslash then leapt down in a spinning pirouette.

“Excellent!” called the man. “Oh! So hot! So hot.”

“That was a great appeal Rio,” said a girl.

“Yea thanks for telling me what I already know?” he rasped. “Ahem but thank you. You are kind. Sandslash let us go and we shall eat mango.”

Sandslash plodded off the stage with the man named Rio. Some of the crowd followed him, but one portly man, holding a notepad, spoke up as Milo walked to the stage.

“Excuse me? Milo?”

“Yea?” he said, turning to see him.

“My name’s Edgar,” he said. “I’m a big fan of your coordinating.”

“Really?” Milo said.

“Yea,” he replied, smiling. “I’m chairman of the Ribbon Club - we’re like a fan club for contests. We travel around the continent visiting contest halls.”

“Oh, okay,” Milo said, shaking the man’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I saw you in Goldenrod,” Edgar said. “Wow. Just…wow! Arcanine sweeping through the crowd in a sweeping mass of flame…Medicham creating clones and fighting them with sweeping fists…and your battle against Christian Dior was intense.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Milo said, beaming. It felt nice to have someone compliment him on his coordinating.

“Do you know who I am?” came a sharp voice. Milo turned to see Nanette Babcock standing behind him. Her face was red and blotchy and she had changed into a rather cheap looking floral dress.

“Excuse me?” Edgar said.

“Nanette Babcock,” she said.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Edgar said, looking embarrassed. Nanette clicked her tongue and turned to Milo.

“Are you going to appeal? Are you even going to practice? Stop standing around talking!”

“I’m just about to appeal,” Milo said, walking onto the stage. Nanette took a seat next to Pokefan Edgar and folded her arms, looking thoroughly sour about something.

As Milo got onto the stage he thought about Nanette’s sudden lapse in behaviour. She had seemed quite cheery before - what had happened since then? He put his thoughts to one side and gripped the five Pokeballs on his belt, before throwing them up into the air.

With each burst of light, Milo’s team began to form, and it stirred a curious feeling in his heart to see this, his new contest team, taking shape. First Medicham emerged, followed by Croconaw, Scyther, Magneton and the new Houndour. The other creatures watched Houndour inquisitively.

“Okay let’s get some training on,” Milo said. “Houndour! Fire a flamethrower at Scyther. Scyther, try your vacuum wave to deflect it.”

Houndour gave a low bark and stood ready on the arena. Fire brimmed among his gums and he unleashed a scorching jet of flame. Scyther looked calm in the face of the attack and began to twist his sharp blades as he span on the spot.

Milo hoped the vacuum wave tactic would work; it would help cover Scyther’s main weakness to fire and would look stylish to boot. Scyther swung his scythes and unleashed the twisted vortex of compressed air. It span across the arena and smashed into the oncoming jet of flame. The fire burst into a shower of embers that rained down over Scyther; he used protect to create a shimmering translucent dome around him and, as the small embers danced on the glowing shield, the mantis executed a swords dance attack.

“Beautiful!” cried Edgar from the crowd. Milo smirked. He loved compliments.

“Scyther go for a quick attack and x-scissor combo!” he yelled. In a speeding blur, Scyther flapped across the arena, his scythes drawn across his face. They glowed with a green energy as Scyther charged the attack. Houndour pressed his paws into the ground and leapt out of the way, but he did so too quickly; anticipating the evasion, Scyther pulled left and followed, before unleashing the double-bladed slash into Houndour’s side.

“Okay, Magneton, go for a thunderbolt at Scyther!” said Milo. He didn’t want Scyther to feel that he was being ganged up on, but it would be good for Houndour to have his captor, Magneton, working alongside him so soon after his capture. It was psychological.

Houndour watched as Magneton crackled with sparks; Scyther sped into the air and slashed strips of white-hot energy down at the metallic Pokemon. Magneton cart-wheeled left and right to avoid the attacks and proceeded to blast the forked javelin of lightning through the air.

Scyther gave a spin and burst into clones, but the first one struck was the real thing; he gave a sharp screech as he dropped out the sky, the clones fading immediately.

Medicham watched on, shocked, as Scyther slammed into the ground. Double team didn’t fool Magneton in the slightest; he saw right through it. Milo could not believe how accurate the Pokemon was.

“Medicham, get in there,” Milo said. “Use a shadow ball!”

Croconaw scampered onto the arena and helped Scyther up, who looked surprised and grateful for the help. Medicham leapt up into the air and teleported at the peak of her jump; she re-appeared opposite Magneton and cracked her knuckles, smiling.

She began charging up the shadow ball in her hands. Milo wanted to work on two techniques with shadow ball, since he felt on reflection that Medicham’s accuracy in throwing meant it wasn’t normally a good offensive attack.

He recalled Dior battling Gina Gourmante in the Goldenrod Contest; his Bayleef unleashed an energy ball, but as it neared Gina’s Ampharos, Bayleef fired a bullet seed into the energy ball, causing it to explode and engulf Ampharos in the energy of the attack. It ensured he couldn’t deflect it.

“Launch the ball!” Milo said. Medicham looked at him for a second, and using her psychic abilities, learned the subject to his command. Charge up a hidden power and hurl them at the attack. Like Dior did.

The shadow ball - compressed umbra, swirling shadow and flecks of royal darkness - was shooting towards Magneton, who, due to a lack of face, showed little expression as it neared. Medicham clicked her fingers and a cluster of small orbs floated around her, changing colour rapidly.

But Magneton span into the air and his eyes glowed red; he used lock-on to target the shadow ball and fired down a thin, accurate bolt of lightning to pierce the attack. Medicham watched, shocked, as her attack was destroyed before her; wisps of smoky energy trailed into the air.

“Fuck,” Milo said. “Okay, go for a focus blast.”

Medicham nodded and cupped her hands together. White-hot energy collected on her palms and bubbled frantically. It seemed as if Medicham couldn’t quite read Magneton’s mind, or assess its state of mind.

Letting off a cry, Medicham fired off the white-hot beam of focused energy. Magneton floated idly in the air as it neared. Milo knew it would deal good damage to the Pokemon, but was distracted as the creature began to sparkle with a beautiful sheen.

Before he could figure out what happened, the focus blast connected and ploughed into Magneton. He still emitted an odd sparkle as he was forced into the wall of the contest hall, obscured by the brilliant light.

Medicham was watching intently as Magneton slowly bobbed back towards the arena. He looked hurt, but still sparkled with a strange sheen. Suddenly, he was overcome with light, and an intense, hot blast of white light - bigger and brighter than Medicham’s own - came speeding along the arena.

“What the fuck!” Milo said. Medicham held her hand out and attempted to block the oncoming assault but it was too big, too fast, too blinding for her to even comprehend. The beam connected, smashing into her frail frame and hurling her off the ground. So much was her shock and pain from the attack that she let out a high, quick scream.

“Medi!” Milo cried. Magneton, although weary, looked remorseful for hurting his comrade, who staggered back on to the arena looking exhausted.

“That’s a mirror coat!” came a cry from the crowd.

“Magneton can learn that?” Milo said, looking at his Pokemon. One man began explaining to everyone else what the attack did, while Scyther seemed to listen intently, hoping to learn more about the ability. Croconaw looked at the new member Houndour intently, before slapping him across the back and giggling.

Milo was intrigued at his Pokemon’s abilities, and decided that a quick rest was in order before he learned the full extent of his Magneton’s powers.

As he practiced, Nanette watched him from the seats, her hand scooping greedy handfuls of popcorn.

*

Monroe McMulligan was a filthy man. His nails, longer and dirtier than most, tapped against the dirty counter of his shop. There were no windows here, so the light was artificial and blue; it emitted a low buzz. Monroe’s eyes drifted lazily to a small, squat television set, but there was nothing of interest on the screen. Nothing in the newspaper. Just nothing.

A bell tinkled in the corner of the room. A customer was in this, his lair, his kingdom. The aisles were tall and long, so Monroe saw nothing of his new customer as they perused the items on sale but he waited patiently, picking at an old cheese sandwich with his dirty hands.

“Excuse me?”

Jake appeared at the counter, looking at Monroe with brilliant blue eyes.

“What.”

“I want a Pokemon,” he said.

“What do you after?”

“A-A Misdreavus,” Jake replied, trying to be firm and decisive.

Monroe looked at Jake; his eyes were not bright and illuminating, they were cold, grey, watery and heavy. His skin was flaky and pale and he was completely skill.

“What makes you think I got a Misdreavus?” he asked. “They rare.”

“A fr-A source. Someone told me,” Jake murmured. “I want it.”

“It’s expensive,” Monroe said in his deep, treacle tones. “£2000.”

“Are you serious?” Jake snapped. “That’s ridiculous!”

“That’s the price faggot,” Monroe replied. He leant back in his chair and smirked, his pouchy, toad-like features amplified. Jake wrinkled his nose at the remark and placed a hand on his hip.

“Hand it over,” he replied. “NOW!”

“Or what?” asked Monroe.

“Go!” Jake snapped. In a flash, a seed flew through the air and smashed into Monroe’s television, causing it to explode with a large bang. Sparks leapt from the box and Monroe jumped away from his seat as if he received an electric shock.

Looking around the corner, he saw a Parasect scuttling down the aisle to accompany his trainer, who was now looking far more confident.

“I’ll knock you out,” Jake said. “Parasect can emit a spore similar to tear gas. You’d be out in seconds.”

“You don’t scare me, boy,” Monroe growled.

“Parasect,” Jake said. “Go!”

Standing back, Jake crossed his arms as Parasect wiggled his hips. With a small pop, a cloud of spores burst from beneath the Pokemon and wafted towards Monroe’s sneering face. Jake smirked as the spores, a soft white in colour, drifted to the dirty man.

But the spores began to stop drifting and hung in mid-air between Jake and Monroe. Jake was confused why they weren’t making their way to the man’s lungs, but he seemed calm, as if he knew what was going on.

“Do you really think you’re the first person to try and gas me?” he asked. Jake was speechless as he watched the spores drift into an air vent lodged in the top corner of the room.

Jake saw Monroe making eye contact with something behind him and turned on the spot. Sitting high up on a shelf near the door was a scruffy looking Mr Mime, with scratches across its body and a finger missing on its left hand. The Pokemon, normally cheery and merry, looked sombre, with eyes half-shut and hair frazzled.

Effortlessly he lifted a hand and Jake gasped as Parasect turned around and scuttled towards his trainer. A strange glow took over the mushroom Pokemon’s white eyes, and soon he started coughing up the same white spores Jake commanded earlier.

“Parasect?” Jake asked, as the fumes coiled around him. Monroe let off a deep, rumbling laugh as Mr Mime waved his one hand around casually. Jake felt a sting hit the back of his throat and his eyes began to water. His knees felt weak - everything felt weak, and his vision became cloudy and distorted…

*

Buzzy blue light stirred Jake from his slumber. His wrists ached, and he soon discovered it was because they were bound behind him by thick, coarse rope. He sat in a room with no windows and a solid steel door, and not a sound could be heard.

“H-Hello?” Jake said. The interior resembled the shop, so it was safe to assume he was held captive by Monroe. “Help!”

A cackle rang out though the room, loud and powerful. Jake felt small as he looked around, struggling to understand what had happened. The old Mr Mime had used its psychic powers to turn Parasect on Jake, and he had felt the full effect of the creature’s potent tear gas.

Where was Parasect now? Jake could feel his Pokeballs still in his pocket but had no way of getting his Pokemon to help him. If she followed the plan, however, then Gina would soon notice Jake had not returned with Misdreavus.

A voice filled the room.

“Get comfy, boy. You’re gonna be staying there for some time…”

It was like an ice cube slipped into Jake’s stomach. The thought of being imprisoned by the filthy Monroe made Jake feel sick. The only way out the room was the thick steel door, which was probably locked. Jake thought of Milo fleetingly - how would he cope?

He’d stay calm, Jake thought. And approach this pragmatically.

He took a deep breath. Gina would be on her way soon.

*

“Would you like another smoothie?”

“No, thank you.”

Gina had a big floppy hat on and a pair of large shades, and sat outside a small café that was opposite Monroe’s seedy pawn shop. Jake was taking a long time to emerge with her Misdreavus, but their plan seemed flawless. If he was being late, it was because Misdreavus was hard to find.

Bursting in, guns blazing, could be bad for their mission, she thought. It was best she followed the plan, and provide reinforcements should Jake be chased from the building.

In truth, she felt silly listening to a seventeen year old boy when she herself was twenty three, but he seemed much more on the ball than she was. Her idea had been to earn money and buy the Pokemon back. Ridiculous.

All through her life, she had been told she was a bit stupid. Her foster parents mourned her lack of talent, be it at the trumpet, at singing, at writing…if she hadn’t looked, as one counsellor said, like a beautiful china doll, Gina would have had very little to cling onto.

And looks helped. At the home she grew up in, Dickensian in its drab surrounds and oppressive staff, she stood out for her natural beauty. Smarts, as she soon learned, did not come easy.

At that moment, a scream filled the air and people looked around to see a man stumbling from an alleyway. He was clutching his throat as he fell to his knees and a waitress from the café immediately ran over to help him. Gina eyed him curiously; he emerged from a lane running by the dubious shop.

“Are you okay sir?” the waitress asked. “Please, come in for a glass of water!”

“My throat…” he gasped.

“What on earth happened?” asked a woman.

“I was talking a shortcut through Spinner Street,” he explained. “And a horrible white spore attacked my senses!”

Gina looked at the opening to the alleyway, running parallel to the creepy pawn shop. If the spores had struck someone in the alley, had they come from the shop? If they had been ventilated out of the building and struck a passer-by, did that mean Jake’s plan had not worked?

A voice snapped in Gina’s head.

Do the right thing.

“I…I need to go and check he’s okay,” Gina muttered.

Gina walked to the door of Monroe’s shop and felt for an aquamarine Pokeball she kept in her purse. Just in case. Opening the door, she heard a bell tinkle and entered the dark shop once more. At the end of the narrow shop was the counter, where Monroe normally sat.

“Monroe?” Gina called. She stumbled briefly; walking in heels was hard. Turning, she saw an old looking Mr Mime standing by the door, holding a hand out. Evidently he had caused her to trip.

“Bring her to me,” came a deep croak from Monroe. Gina saw Mr Mime raise his hand and twist his wrist; Gina screamed and staggered into a large shelf, holding her hands out to stop too much harm. She threw her Pokeball onto the shop floor, and a large purple creature emerged from the bright blue light.

“Starmie!” Gina cried. “Water gun!”

The Pokemon made a crooning noise and fired a thick jet of water from the tip of its star piece. Instead of deflecting it with telekinesis, Mr Mime leapt back, and with a pop, re-appeared in another part of the shop.

“Tackle!” Gina said. Starmie threw itself through the air like a ninja star, spinning and sweeping around a corner to tackle into the clown. Mr Mime was thrown to the ground, allowing Starmie to blast a jet of water and propel him into the wall with great force.

Gina smiled at Starmie. She had caught this Pokemon on Cherrygrove Beach some months ago when it was a Staryu, but had always favoured her Seel over it. However, since Seel was stolen in Goldenrod City, Gina had relied on this Pokemon more, and evolved it with a water stone she had recently obtained.

“Thunderbolt!”

On one tip, Starmie began to spin wildly. Sparks burst with a whip-crack and began to crackle in long coils. Mr Mime got to his feet but was struck in the chest by a powerful bolt of lightning. Gina looked ahead to the counter but could not see Monroe.

She ran down the aisle, with Starmie following. He wasn’t to be seen, but his television had been destroyed. Gina leapt over the counter and wrenched open a door at the back of the room. The sound of the metal hinge turning send a long screech echoing down the tight staircase leading deep underground.

“JAKE!” Gina screamed. What should she do? Was there a chance he was downstairs, or had he left? “Starmie, scan the area with psywave. Try and detect thought.”

She wished her Starmie had the psychic powers that Milo’s Medicham did, but it seemed Starmie had limits. However the celestial Pokemon used its abilities to sense anything emitting thought. It was completely still for several minutes while it did this. Gina could see Mr Mime lying defeated on the ground.

Starmie’s core flashed white and the creature went to the door. Gina followed, running down the spiral staircase with her heart racing. She began to hear noises as she neared the bottom of the stairs. A high voice and a low murmur.

“Let me go!”

“Starmie, use a psychic,” Gina said, as they came to the bottom of the stairs. There was a solid steel door. “Rip it off.”

Starmie’s gore glowed with the colours of the rainbow in a fantastic melding show of light. The door gently wrinkled like a sheet of paper before Starmie forced it off the hinges in a sudden blast. With a clatter, Gina stepped into the room, where Monroe was standing over a bound Jake.

“Gina!” Jake cried.

“BANETTE!” Monroe snapped.

Gina screamed as a grey spectre swept down from the corner of the room. Holding a claw back, he charged up fevered sparks of dark energy and slashed across Starmie’s body with utmost fury. Starmie flew back and smashed into the wall but blasted a flurry of bubbles at the doll.

“Attack it!” Monroe said. Hovering in mid-air, Banette laughed as he swerved around Starmie, flinging bolts of lightning from his claws. Starmie leapt to the side and attempted an ice beam, but Banette teleported behind Starmie and fired a hyper beam into it’s back.

“No!” Gina said, as Starmie collapsed. “Can you get up? Try a double team!”

Starmie’s core was pulsating; she was weak, but she still got back up and glowed white. Copies of the weak Pokemon soon filled the room, confusing Banette. Gina looked around. One clone was by Jake’s chair.

Banette swept through the air at Starmie, claws crackling with another shadow claw, but he passed through the Pokemon as it faded into the atmosphere. Gina saw the Starmie by Jake and had an idea.

“Sharpen!” she said. “Tackle!”

The points on the star Pokemon got sharper and extended slightly; with a quick spin on the spot, Starmie sliced the rope binding Jake. He wriggled out the chair and, with the man Monroe just in front of him, Jake gripped his chair and swung it into the back of the man’s head.

“Are you okay?” Gina asked.

“Fine,” Jake said, checking his Pokeballs. Monroe was out cold.

Wingull, Ditto and Parasect were all there, but he decided to release Wingull to aid the battle. Starmie span through the air at Banette, but he was too quick, and slipped under her sharp frame before delivering another devastating slash to her back.

“Wingull! Air cutter!” Jake cried. Wingull swept along and sliced neatly into Banette’s side with precision and speed; he gave a gnarled yell and swiped his claws, but the gull was already high into the air and blasting a strong wind down at him.

“Go and get Misdreavus,” Gina said to Jake. “Monroe’s computer will show where she is being kept.”

“Okay,” Jake said, running up the stairs with Wingull.

He didn’t have to look for long; once he got to the top of the stairs, Jake jumped into the man’s chair and hastily searched the database on the computer. Sure enough, Misdreavus’ ball was stored in a filing cabinet that Jake unlocked using a key he found in a cracked coffee mug.

Jake ran his hand over the smooth, red Pokeball just as Gina emerged from the top of the stairs. They ran out the building together as Monroe let out a long groan from beneath them. Gina clasped Misdreavus’ Pokeball tightly and beamed as they left the dark shop and emerged on the streets of Violet City.

“Thanks for your help,” Gina said, smiling.

“We’ve got your Pokemon back,” Jake said. “Now we just need to refine your coordinating and you’ll be back on track.”

*

Overall, the acquisition of mirror coat had made Magneton a staple part of Milo’s team. It reflected and illuminated Croconaw’s water attacks beautifully, while Houndour’s devilish flames looked incredible when they were redirected. Milo worked on some appeal ideas for the contest and felt confident things would be ok.

The battle portion was a doubles match, like in Goldenrod, so Milo had decided to use Medicham and Croconaw for that portion. Scyther and Houndour would take the spotlight in the Violet City contest when Milo returned there.

Nanette was walking back to the hotel with Milo, talking about her new diet. It sounded like she had to substitute sugar with herbs, with the result being that the girl had a very curious, hearty breath of rosemary and sage.

“I feel good about the contest,” Nanette said, as they walked into the lobby of the hotel. “Thank god for all the training I did before you met me.”

“Yea, right,” Milo muttered.

He was caught off-guard, however, when something came up from behind and grabbed him. Milo inhaled a deep breath of a citrusy scent and immediately knew who had hugged him from behind.

“Mom?” he said, turning. Meredith stood there, beaming at her boy and clasping her hands together.

“Milo!” she cried. “What a surprise!”

“What are you doing in Cherrygrove City?” Milo asked.

“Why do you think?” she said, stepping to the side. Sitting on an easy chair, a phone pressed to her ear, was Milo’s sister, Mia. She saw Milo and her still face softened as her lips curled into a smile.

“This just got interesting,” she said, putting the phone aside.



Next: Chapter 25
It's time for the Cherrygrove Contest, and Milo is thrown when his sister Mia turns up to compete. How will Milo cope with his sister's presence in the contest, and her so-called 'secret weapon'? Meanwhile, sparks fly in Violet City when Falkner learns about the Membership Card and it's history from Jake.



Notes

-Okay so this is the sort of mini Cherrygrove arc in the Violet Arc.

-Magneton can't actually learn mirror coat, but Magnezone can, and I wasn't sure at this point if Magneton would evolve, so it seemed ok having him learn mirror coat.

-This chapter introduced Nanette. She's a character that was actually supposed to appear in TPML and I couldn't get it to work. When I was drafting out the storyline for Show-Off, I thought meeting a slightly deluded coordinator might be fun.

-She DID actually appear in Ch3; Milo sits next to her and she laments how pretty Gina Gourmante is. Milo notices Nanette smells like wet dog.

-That was inspired by someone I know. Who smells of wet dog :/

-She has a complex story, and to be honest, I don't know what's going to make it into the fic. Originally she had quite a long unfolding background and storyline but things can always change.

-So keep an eye out for her. I like her. She's kinda misunderstood and fucked up.

-What do you guys think of Houndour? To be honest, I knew what Milo's final capture would be, which comes later, and his fifth would be caught around here, but who it was went through my mind for ages. Houndour was a favourite, since it kind of captured Milo's tough personality, and I wanted him to get a fire type after Ruby.

-Other potential Pokemon he could catch included an Absol, Ivysaur, Banette and Sandslash, which I aluded to by having one appeal in the chapter.

-Thoughts on Mia? It was about time these guys met again, and next chapter you'll actually learn some surprising things about Mia. Character development, if you will.

-Her secret weapon is, in my opinion, EXCITING.

-Next Golden Arc chap sees a familliar Ecruteak ex-gym leader.... <3

[Sike Saner]

It was nice to let his feet breathe, but Milo noticed he could really do with cutting his toenails.

“It can wait,” he muttered. More important was the impending contest.

There's no contest ribbon for having well-groomed feet, after all.

Nanette's a pretty interesting character; I like her, too. And yay for the houndour capture!

Yay also for the presence of a banette in that chapter. Those are awesome.

Next chapter looks quite eventful. Looking forward to it. :3

[Chris 2.1]

Previously...

-Jasmine had rescued the Stantler from Ilex Forest and used them to hide the MooMoo farm, where her parents looked after the recovered Pokemon
-Jasmine killed Adam Anderson, an agent, after he tried to steal Jake's Pichu
-She then worked as a double agent for the criminal company until her cover was rumbled.
-Morty stopped working for Mr Mitchelson after being shocked at how ruthless Jasmine was
-After an attack in Violet City, Mr Mitchelson was accosted by Steven Stone, a man financing some of the thefts.
-Steven threatened to murder Michael's family if he continued to scupper the thefts.

The Golden Arc
Six
Liquid Cocaine

Kazaar the Alakazam was sitting in a very small, dark room. He enjoyed it here; the cold emptiness was perfect for him to transform the area into his own personal haven. Any noise, bright light or movement hindered his subconscious, so he often sat in the old cupboard within Mitchelson Enterprises.

He liked to think of William, his deceased trainer. The powerful, wonderful man, handsome and kind. Kazaar had been very close with William; they had spent years together, and he had developed from his younger forms into the powerful creature he was now.

But as he lay in thought, something flickered in the back of his head. Michael, his new master, needed him. Kazaar opened his eyes to the bleak cupboard and placed a clawed finger to his temple; in a flash, he was in the warm, well-lit office of his owner.

“Jasmine,” Michael said testily; he was standing up, trying to reason with the girl.

“I have lost a lot of respect for you,” she said, folding her arms. Lorelei and Bill were both in the room. “Why are you giving up?”

“We have to,” Michael replied. “The operation against the thefts has to close. It just isn’t working.”

“So you think giving up is a good idea?” Jasmine asked. She walked off, but turned around and walked around her chair in a sort of lazy loop. She looked confused, conflicted.

“It sounds financial,” Lorelei said, looking across at Michael.

“It’s downright dangerous,” Michael told them. “We are a small team…we just can’t do it.”

Jasmine stared at Mr Mitchelson, sizing him up. She could see something ticking in the man’s head and knew something didn’t add up. A glance at Lorelei, then -

“…financial?” she asked. “Financial? Michael you’re a millionaire. Don’t lie to me.”

Michael sighed, running his hand through his short hair. He had tried to pull the wool over peoples eyes; he didn’t want to be honest and tell them the truth. Getting them away from here would be safest, quickest…but seeing the fiery look in Jasmine’s eyes, Michael knew he had to tell them the truth.

“We’ve been compromised,” Michael admitted.

“Compromised?” asked Lorelei.

“Someone…someone has been monitoring our security feed. They’ve been seeing everything that we’ve done. That means they know who we all are, and I was visited last night by a man who is a potent threat.”

“Who was it?” Jasmine asked.

“A businessman,” Michael said. “He funds a lot of the thefts, his company owns the Lucky Carp Casino. He said if we interfere with another theft then he’s going to murder Meredith.”

“Oh my god!” Lorelei said.

“He is having my whole family followed,” Michael said. “I cannot put a foot wrong.”

Jasmine felt a horrible, ice-cold sting in her stomach. The thought of Meredith being followed by agents, ready to kill her if Michael interfered with the thefts…it was sickening. Michael went on to explain about the organisation’s plan to infiltrate the Goldenrod Exhibition Match next week.

“We really haven’t a choice, then,” Lorelei said.

Michael explained that they were all to go off the radar for a while, until he could think of an appropriate way out of the situation. Bill left to collect his things, and Lorelei made a rather inappropriate joke, before cackling and leaving the room. Jasmine was about to go to her locker -

“Jasmine?” Michael said. “Can I have a private word?”

“This is all so sudden,” Jasmine said, as Michael got out his seat.

“There’s more,” he said. “Jasmine, the man who spoke to me was the employer of Adam Anderson. He managed to obtain the footage of you murdering Adam in the Hieroglyph Palace.”

“Oh,” Jasmine said.

“He’s coming after you,” Michael told her, looking into her pale eyes. “And he has the technology to track every movement. Jasmine, he’s going to kill you.”

“What should I do?” Jasmine asked. She subconsciously gripped a pendant she wore around her neck. A cold sweat trickled down her forehead.

“It’s okay,” Michael said, his face breaking into a smile. “I’m going to help you go into hiding.”

Jasmine didn’t understand what Michael meant, until Kazaar placed a thin, bony finger on her shoulder. He stared into her eyes, his heavy breathing ruffling the tufts of his moustache.

“W-Where are you going to send me?” Jasmine asked.

“Wherever your heart desires,” Michael said. Jasmine saw his features warp and distort as Kazaar gripped her tighter; she tried to calm down and think sense but her muscles started aching and a throbbing pain filled her temple.

With a thud, Jasmine felt her face pressed against hard dirt and a smell of old straw filled her nostrils. She began to get up, feeling a sharp pain in her legs, and came face to face with a large, fat Miltank.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Excuse me!”

“Muuuuuurmoo,” the creature muttered. Jasmine saw she was in a small stable, and realised that Kazaar had teleported her to MooMoo Farm. She dusted herself off and walked outside, meeting the heat of a beautiful sunny day.

“Jasmine!”

Her mother ran over from the porch, hugging her daughter tightly. Jasmine felt comforted by the soft embrace of her mother; she really needed this security, this blanket. Lily rushed her daughter into the kitchen, where she hugged her father Mack, and settled down in a chair.

Lily and Mack both assumed Jasmine had more Pokemon, but she had to explain why she was really there. She decided that admitting she murdered a man was a bit far, and instead explained that the man behind the thefts was planning on killing her after she was nearly caught.

“Oh my goodness!” Lily moaned. “Oh my!”

“I knew you shouldn’t be doing this job,” Mack said, scratching his scruffy beard. “Knew it. Where is this bloody Mitchelson character?”

Jasmine assured them that she was fine; she was safe here, which is why she had been sent. The Stantler rescued from Ilex Forest still lived in and around the farm, projecting their illusions to stop anybody coming near the premises, so nobody could find her. She also left her phone and laptop in Goldenrod so Steven Stone’s PorygonZ was unable to locate her.

Jasmine’s parents soon got over the initial danger their daughter was in and showed her to the guest house, a small cottage in the grounds of the farm. It was a light, airy building with windows built into the ceiling; it was small and tall, very quaint.

“These can be your quarters while you stay with us,” Lily said. “Although you will have a roommate.”

“A roommate?” Jasmine asked, as they walked across the paddock.

“That’s right,” Lily said. “We’ve been employing someone to help out on the fields. Here he is!”

Jasmine turned and almost leapt in shock. A shirtless Morty walked towards them, looking tanned and far more healthier than he did normally. He had a pair of cut-off jeans on and construction boots, and his dirty blonde hair was messier and shaggier than ever. He kept it back with a sweatband.

“This is Mortimer,” Lily said warmly.

“Hi Mortimer,” Jasmine said, holding her hand out. She was so surprised to see Morty at her parents farm - what was he doing here? Until she knew more, she didn’t think it appropriate to reveal that Morty worked with her, so she feigned ignorance.

“Pleasure,” Morty said, smiling at her.

“Mortimer is such a dear, he’s been helping us look after the Pokemon,” Lily said. “From Ecruteak, is that right?”

“That’s right,” Morty said. They made small talk, but Jasmine didn’t hear a word; she was admiring Morty’s sculpted frame and the definition across his body. He hadn’t been away from Goldenrod long, so he had obviously kept in good shape all this time. How had she not noticed?

“Well, I need to make some feed for the Pokemon,” Lily said. “Jasmine dear, can you settle yourself in? Mortimer, just keep an eye on the Pokemon.”

Jasmine watched her mother walk back towards the house before she spoke to Morty. They were in a spatial field with a couple of Miltank grazing happily. A Tauros was also strutting around in the corner. Once Lily had gone, Jasmine whipped around.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

“I wanted to help,” Morty admitted, and began telling Jasmine about how trapped and isolated he felt in Ecruteak. Despite being freaked out by Jasmine’s casual violence, Morty said he wanted to do something to contribute to the good work being done by Mr Mitchelson, and he found himself stumbling across the farm.

“Why did you come here?” Morty asked. “Lily said you’re going to be staying at the guest house?”

“Yea,” Jasmine said. “Mr Mitchelson has been found out, and the people who Adam Anderson worked for are after my head. They want to kill me.”

Morty put a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll protect you here,” he said, smiling.

Jasmine believed every word. As Morty vowed to protect her, she felt safer than she had for a long time.

*

Jasmine had to smile when a package arrived in her room; Kazaar had sent her some clothes and a note from Michael apologising for putting her in so much danger. Jasmine almost ignored it; being with Morty made her feel safe, confident - even powerful.

She changed out her pretty tea frock and into some cropped shorts and a plaid shirt; it was so warm and pleasant here, she wanted her pale skin to see some sun. Morty showed her all the different Pokemon on the farm; mainly ones she had recovered from the thieves.

They spent the next few days looking after the Pokemon and maintaining the farm. In their spare hours, they laid on the grass and stared at the sky, chatting about everything from the Reclassification to Mr Mitchelson; Morty was in hysterics when Jasmine regaled him of Lorelei’s frantic screaming and he was shocked to learn about their assault from Metagross.

The more Jasmine thought about it, the more she realised she knew very little about who Michael employed. Lorelei had said she wasn’t the only one…could it be that he had controlled factions of people in other parts of Johto?

“How long are you going to stay here for?” Jasmine said one night. Morty was sitting on the end of her bed while Jasmine was at the top; she had decorated her room with fairy lights that looked strikingly similar to the brilliant stars dotting the sky.

“I don’t know,” Morty said lazily. Music was playing from Jasmine’s radio. “I have nothing left for me in Ecruteak.”

“What about -

“Rochelle?” Morty said.

“Yea.”

“She’s touring Kanto with the girls,” Morty said.

“Oh,” Jasmine said. “Does that…bothe-

“No.”

“No?”

“We’re growing apart, I think,” Morty admitted.

“Really?” Jasmine asked.

“I think so,” Morty replied. “We’re so different. I like home comforts; she likes skyscrapers and spotlights.”

“They say opposites attract,” Jasmine said. She couldn’t believe she was trying to convince Morty to stay with Rochelle; he was saying the words she had longed to hear for ages.

“Sometimes,” Morty said. He sighed, before catching Jasmine’s eye. “But she couldn’t sit here and - and chill like we do. You know? We’re on the same page, Jazz. Always have been.”

She smiled softly, touched by his words. They were on the same page. As she cleared her throat to speak, Morty leapt off the bed and looked out the window.

“Do you see that?” he said. Jasmine got up (reluctantly) and looked out the window; a small burst of flames appeared sporadically across one of the fields.

“What is it?” she said.

“Cyndaquil, I think,” Morty said, biting his lip. “He’s running across the field. We need to get him before he escapes.”

Morty ran out the room to get his jacket; Jasmine got one of hers from the wardrobe and ran down the stairs. It was like looking after children; they ruined good moments and soured moods. Morty came downstairs shortly after Jasmine, and they made their way after the Cyndaquil.

“They’re not native to these parts,” Morty admitted.

On and on they ran, across paddocks and fields, until the odd bursts of flame got closer and closer. As they neared the outer perimeter of the farm, Jasmine saw the little Cyndaquil leap into the trees and run down the steep hill to the forest below.

“Shit,” Morty said. “He’s escaped!”

“Hang on,” Jasmine said, gripping her Rotom’s Pokeball. “I’ll go after it, and you wait up here. Get Gengar to use Mean Look as soon as he comes into view. If I don’t grab him, I’ll chase him back up the hill, k?”

Morty nodded.

Jasmine leapt over the fence and ran down the steep hill, staggering left and right to avoid trees. It was very dark here, but she could see Cyndaquil up ahead, sniffing the area. Morty had mentioned he was young and inquisitive, so he was probably enjoying being past the perimeter of the farm.

“Cyndaquil?” Jasmine said, wandering closer. Cyndaquil saw her and bolted again; she ran after him, bursting through a thick cluster of trees and finding herself out on an open plain.

She could see the lights of Olivine City in the distance, but as she turned, there was no trace of the farm beyond the woods. Jasmine remembered that the Stantler’s illusions cloaked the place from view, so nobody could find it.

“Come back here!” she hissed. Cyndaquil cried its name, but as it ran, there was an echoing bang that rang across the night; Cyndaquil was knocked off his feet and hurled across the plain in a pool of blood, letting off a single, squeaked note.

Jasmine let out a long gasp and ran to the little creature. A bullet had gone right through his head. He was dead. Turning around, Jasmine saw an all-too-familiar figure standing there, gripping the gun with apparent relish.

It was the pouchy, toad-like man Largo LeGrande.

“Largo!” Jasmine cried, stepping back. He was pacing towards her with speed; for someone so large, he was surprisingly fast. Without saying a word he came right up to Jasmine, who was paralysed with fear, and stared into her eyes with his dark, empty ones.

“FUCKING BITCH!”

He swung his arm and the gun smashed into Jasmine’s head; she spluttered a mouthful of blood and wailed as she fell to the ground.

“TRAITOR!”

He fired two shots into the ground; one left and one right of where Jasmine lay. She nursed her bruised jaw, looking up at the disgusting man who held the gun right at her.

“One of us, that’s who I thought you were!” he bellowed. “But you’re a murdering bitch. Ripping Adam’s fillings out through his skull. What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she cried.

“Liar,” he whispered. “You think you’re clever? Orders been sent for me to kill you. Like Jonty Ink, the journalist. Like all the people who get in my way.”

Jasmine watched him with intent; as soon as his gaze flickered away for a second, she would run. She was only about fifty metres from the cluster of trees she had come from. If she could get there, Largo wouldn’t be able to aim well…and she’d soon enter the protection of the Stantler…

His eyes went from Jasmine’s form to the dead Cyndaquil lying next to her, and Jasmine, sitting, swung a leg up and kicked Largo in the shin. He gave a bellowing roar and she got to her feet, gripping a Pokeball, but in one swift movement Largo gripped her throat and threw her back to the ground.

“BITCH!” he snarled, as Jasmine fell down. He loomed over her, gripping her throat with his thick, dirty fingers. Jasmine felt her eyes water as the air left her lungs and Largo’s face pressed down at her.

Without saying another word, he pressed his lips against Jasmine’s face; she let out a cry as his thick, scabbed lips kissed her, his scruffy features engulfing all she could see; a strong scent of dirt and sweat filled her nostrils.

“GDOFME!” she spluttered, trying to wriggle away from his pressing grip.

“I’m going to kill you,” Largo said, in thick, rattling gasps. “Then kiss you again.”

His face twisted into a slouched grin; he was disgusting.

He got up again, loading his gun. Jasmine was trembling with fear as Largo’s stench stuck to her. She brushed her hand against her lip and felt it bleeding; evidently from when Largo struck her. Largo aimed the gun at Jasmine one more time, but she didn’t feel confident to try and escape.

“Once you die, you’ll belong to me forever,” Largo said. “For ever.”

As he pulled the trigger, however, something black struck him across the side and his aim was thrown off; he looked to see a Murkrow taking to the skies, Largo’s gun in his talons.

“Fuck!” he snapped, as Murkrow flapped away. Jasmine gasped as a figure ran along and tackled into Largo, knocking him to the ground; Morty was on top of him, punching his pouchy face once, twice, a third time…

“Morty!” Jasmine cried.

“Get the fuck off me!” Largo said, his elbow connecting with Morty and knocking him to the ground. Largo swung a foot - both clad in steel-capped-boots - and kicked Morty in the side. He let out a long scream as a rib cracked.

“Little shit!” Largo roared, kicking Morty again. Jasmine ran over to Largo in an attempt to get him off her friend, but Morty had got to his feet and swung another punch.

“Are you okay?” Morty asked. Jasmine nodded wearily.

“Gengar!” Morty yelled to the skies. Largo snarled as he ran at Morty again, but he ran out of the way. Jasmine was instead tackled and felt Largo throw her into the rough earth once more. Largo gripped her throat with one hand and his other curled into a fist; Jasmine let out a scream as Largo delivered a punch.

Suddenly, Jasmine watched as something lifted Largo off Jasmine momentarily; he sailed through the air and was thrown to the ground as Gengar clicked his fingers. Morty ran to Jasmine and held her tightly in his arms; she still smelled Largo’s breath on her.

“Gengar,” Morty said. “Kill him.”

Gengar nodded as Largo, stunned from the psywave attack, got to his feet. Jasmine watched from Morty’s embrace as Gengar’s claws sparkled, and he plunged his hand into Largo’s chest. By phasing his fist, Gengar was able to claw at Largo’s insides.

He gripped Largo’s heart, causing much distress in the man’s face. His expressions twisted as he groaned in agony, but with one quick tug, Gengar ripped out the heart of Largo LeGrande. In an instant, the man’s body crumpled to the ground, motionless.

“He’s dead,” Morty said, his voice a mere whisper. Gengar crushed his heart into a thick, purple mulch.

“Burn the body,” Jasmine said coldly.

Gengar clicked both his fingers and sent sparks onto Largo’s body; flames crackled and licked along his dirty clothes and soon he was swathed in curling crimson fire. Jasmine watched, tears in her eyes, as the dead Cyndaquil lay nearby.

*

That night, Jasmine sat at her dresser, tending to her cuts and bruises. It was past midnight, but they had decided to bury Cyndaquil and she was only now ready for bed.

There was a knock on her door, and Jasmine, in only her silk nightdress, saw Morty enter. Again, he was shirtless, with pyjama bottoms and bare feet. He looked a little bruised around the face, but Jasmine was nervous; she was looking at his feet, which looked oddly square.

“You ok?” he whispered.

“Fine,” she said. “Bit sore.”

Morty didn’t say anything; he didn’t even murmur or nod. He walked close to Jasmine, staring into her eyes, and planted a kiss on her lips. Jasmine was glad Morty closed his eyes; hers had widened in surprise. Morty held Jasmine in his arms and pressed her close; she felt his heart beating and could smell his scent; a crisp note of fresh linen and a powerful grassy linger.

Whether they kissed for minutes or hours, Jasmine was unsure.

She had almost forgotten about Goldenrod City.





Notes
-Yay, Morty's back!
-I have to admit, I was very happy when I wrote this. I wasn't sure if I wanted Jasmine and Morty to kiss at this point, but it made the most sense in the end.
-This part of the arc was quite brief and conversation-based, and I think that was important to have after the action recently.
-You may wonder what Largo was doing around the farm?
-My thoughts were that, after failing to find Jasmine, he was sent to Olivine to interrogate her sister, Eva. But he happened upon Jasmine anyway...
-The next part of the Golden Arc is the Gym Leader Exhibition match.
-Also, the next part of the GA is going to be the last chapter in the arc.
-After a couple more chapters of the fic, a new arc will start, focusing on different/characters/plots.
-More details to come.
-Next chapter: Milo VS Mia! :O

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Great pieces yet again! Jasmine-Morty shipping all the way! I love it. The plot is coming along aswell, with Steven as a more powerful businessman (and crook), some crazy ass Porygon Z and murders!

Poor Cynadquil

Really, wish I could comment more, but I really just enjoy reading it. As soon as it's up, I'll be reading it. Actually, it's the same with all your pokemon-fics.

[Chris 2.1]

Thanks MLG, really appreciate it!

Next chapter is the Cherrygrove contest, where Milo has to prove himself like never before. I'm about halfway into it; it's a pretty effing cool contest.

Any thoughts, questions, speculations....hit me.

[Sike Saner]

“Come back here!” she hissed. Cyndaquil cried its name, but as it ran, there was an echoing bang that rang across the night; Cyndaquil was knocked off his feet and hurled across the plain in a pool of blood, letting off a single, squeaked note.

D:

Yeah, that was... yeah.

“I’m going to kill you,” Largo said, in thick, rattling gasps. “Then kiss you again.”

...Well. That's certainly vile as hell.

“Once you die, you’ll belong to me forever,” Largo said. “For ever.”

I reiterate: Vile. As. Hell.

As he pulled the trigger, however, something black struck him across the side and his aim was thrown off; he looked to see a Murkrow taking to the skies, Largo’s gun in his talons.

*applauds the everloving crap out of that murkrow*

Jasmine gasped as a figure ran along and tackled into Largo, knocking him to the ground; Morty was on top of him, punching his pouchy face once, twice, a third time…

*applauds the everloving crap out of Morty*


Yeah, Largo was quite the bastard; I was indeed hoping to see something befall him. And it was quite a memorable end that he met, too. >:)

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: I'll be honest, I've wanted to kill Largo for a while. He's disgusting :-/. I couldn't even plot a death horrible and excruciating enough though, shooting him wasn't big enough, stabbing, falling down a well, etc. Then I liked the idea of Gengar physically snatching his heart......


Anyway next chap up very soon! I've been in Austria last week and got loads done, but start a new job tomorrow so it might not be up next week.

It's an exciting contest, if I do say so...I think some unexpected characters get some development. By which I mean someone who isn't Milo or Mia. But they do get development too....but you expected that, right?

I also kinda revamped my plans for Mia's team while writing it. I hope you like the battles when I put it up.

Chris x

[crown34]

Sike: I'll be honest, I've wanted to kill Largo for a while. He's disgusting :-/. I couldn't even plot a death horrible and excruciating enough though, shooting him wasn't big enough, stabbing, falling down a well, etc. Then I liked the idea of Gengar physically snatching his heart......

How bout getting attacked by a very angry army of Dragons?

[Chris 2.1]

I thought of massacres like that, but with it feeling a bit accidental, or 'wrong place, wrong time' sort of thing, that character-driven element is taken away a bit. No, I think having his heart ripped out was a good way for Largo to go.

And it will surely alter the dynamic between Morty and Jas now he's saved her ass in a bloodthirsty fashion...

[Chris 2.1]

Show-Off
-XXV-
Bay Breeze

It was the epitome of awkward. After meeting in the hotel lobby, Meredith had been ecstatic to see Milo, and insisted he came to dinner with her and Mia at the most popular restaurant by Cherrygrove’s shores. Nanette was eager to come along, too, and although she did not look impressed with the girl’s clothes, Meredith begrudgingly invited her along.

They dined at The Hairy Fig - a blissfully simple restaurant that looked out across at the moonlit bay. Milo could see Quagsire swimming along and flipping out the water like gymnasts. Nanette was diving into the bread basket and gorging.

“So, Nanette?” Meredith said. “How long have you been coordinating?”

“About two years,” she said, her tone thick as she munched on bread. Crumbs were sprayed everywhere. “Give or take.”

“Quite,” Meredith said, looking at Milo with a horrified stare. Mia, sitting opposite Milo, was grinning like a Cheshire cat as she soaked up the awkward atmosphere. Nanette ordered expensive dishes and was rude to the staff - apparently she thought she was having her meal paid for.

“So, Mia,” Milo said. “How’s the coordinating going?”

“Good,” she replied, smiling.

“Mia has four ribbons,” Meredith said. “And Cherrygrove will be her fifth and final one before she goes to the Grand Festival.”

“Well,” Milo said. “I might win, Mum.”

“Oh!” Meredith said. “Yes, of course. Well, yes! I can’t believe you two are entering the same contest. When I was younger, I had to battle my good friend Mitzy Dottle in the Celadon City Conference…it’s one of the most lavish contests, you know. When you are pitted against a friend or loved one, you owe it to your special bond to give it your best shot.”

She gave a sigh and smiled.

“I’m rooting for both of you.”

She’s not,” Mia hissed to Milo, so Meredith couldn’t hear.

“I might win,” Nanette said, slurping a glass of cola.

“No you won’t,” Mia said, raising an eyebrow at the odd looking girl. She flicked her caramel hair back and surveyed Nanette, who seemed oblivious to the hurtful comments Mia was dishing out. Milo was blushing, feeling sorry for Nanette, while Meredith ordered another glass of wine.

“I think Milo will win,” Nanette said, staring at him. “I saw his appeals earlier, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

“It says here you have a Houndour now,” Mia said, tapping away on her phone. “Interesting.”

“Houndour?” Meredith said, sounding sceptical.

“Yea, caught him outside Cherryg-

“I helped,” said Nanette, jabbing her thumb into her chest.

“What role is he going to have on your team?” Meredith said. “Surely not appealing?”

“We’ll figure that out soon,” Milo said.

“Mia has been very clever,” Meredith said, smiling at her daughter. “She’s delegated appeal and battle roles to all her team, and has a set of reserves kept at home so the can utilise the right strategy at all times.”

“How many Pokemon do you have, Mi?” Milo asked.

“Nine,” she replied.

“What!” Milo said. “Hang on. Ninetales, Togetic, Snubbull, Chinchou…”

“If you had any sense,” she sniffed. “You’d access the Pokemon Coordinators Database online. It shows every Pokemon you’ve registered - in other words, any team members eligible to be used in battles. Except my ninth Pokemon, my newest one…I’ve not registered him yet.”

“Why not?” Milo said.

“Element of surprise,” she explained. “I’ll register him just before the contest so nobody can see what it is. I don’t like people being able to see all my cards.”

Milo gritted his teeth as the main courses arrived. Mia seemed confident in ways Milo had not even thought of; she was being very clever about both her approach to her Pokemon and her own coordinating. Milo made a mental note to find out her other Pokemon - and if the current members had evolved at all. And what of this secret, new Pokemon?

“I have to say,” Mia said. “I was impressed at your work in the Goldenrod Contest.”

“Thanks,” Milo replied.

“We both felt Azalea was a bit of a fluke,” Meredith said bluntly. “You weren’t against strong opponents and Croconaw ran away with you a bit.”

“I hope you’ve put in some serious training,” Mia added.

Milo tucked into his fish and felt flushed with embarrassment. He had been too busy running away from Oscar to really train. He spent today working hard and felt confident in Magneton’s appeal, and had decided to use Medicham and Croconaw in the battle portions respectively. Scyther would shine in Violet City, and Milo could also work on Houndour.

Did he really have a chance of beating Mia at Cherrygrove? Milo had felt quite confident about himself, but Mia’s steely glare was making him less and less sure by the minute. Nanette began complaining about the food as Meredith and Mia broke off into their own conversation.

*

The next day, Milo rose early and felt foul. He felt angry, irritated, but wasn’t sure why. It took a few moments for him to remember that Mia was competing in the contest today and that he had felt worried about his performance. Losing in a contest wasn’t an issue - losing to Mia, however, was cataclysmic.

“Ok guys,” Milo said, speaking to Medicham and Croconaw at the contest. “There’s two battle rounds - single then double. Medicham, I’m going to use you for the single and then Croconaw, you’ll help her out in the double. I think you two can work well together, but I know you haven’t practiced much in battle.”

Croconaw clapped his hands excitedly, looking forward to battling with Medicham. The monkey folded her arms and looked away, but Milo caught her smiling.

“Just remember Croconaw, aqua jet to evade, but then steer it into a strike,” Milo said. “Spin with metal claw as you do it, it’ll earn us more marks.”

He recalled them both into their balls and tucked them away as Nanette strode along happily. Her hair had been forced into two pigtails, causing the skin around her forehead to tighten and give her an alarming look. She sat down in the backstage area and released a Gloom.

Milo held his breath - the weed Pokemon let off a disgusting smell. It was small and fat, a petrol blue colour, but was letting off a weak smile. Nanette began going over her appeal with the Pokemon as Milo looked around the room.

It seemed to him as if the Cherrygrove contest consisted of older coordinators, as he saw many walking around with their Pokemon. Milo saw a scary looking Glalie floating effortlessly in the air; its chunky, carved body was oddly haunting, and Milo surmised that the trainer must have come from far away - Glalie would probably hate these warm climes.

Milo had gone onto the database that Mia mentioned the previous night, and looked at her profile. Ninetales was there - her star Pokemon, and her Chinchou had since evolved into a Lanturn (and, it appears, recently helped her win a ribbon). Her Snubbull was now a Granbull and her Weepinbell remained the same, but Milo was intrigued by her other Pokemon, such as an Altaria and Politoed.

“Wonder what this new Pokemon is,” Milo muttered, wishing Jake was here for him to idly speculate with. “Huh. Maybe she got herself a Medicham.”

“How you feeling?” Nanette said, sitting along next to him. “Nervous? I’m nervous. I’ve pee’d like twice. And Gloom keeps letting off this pungent sap that makes my eyes water.”

“It’s an interesting Pokemon,” Milo lied.

“I’ve got a great appeal lined up,” Nanette admitted. “You’d better watch out!”

“Hmm,” Milo said.

“Welcome everyone!” came a voice. Milo looked on the screen to see a grey-haired gentleman on the stage and the audience applauded wildly.

“My name is Claude Clapham, and I’d like to welcome you all to another fantastic contest in Cherrygrove City!

“We have a fantastic selection of coordinators lined up today from all over the world! But first, allow me to introduce you to the people calling the shots today. Ladies and Gentlemen - the contest judges!

“He’s the head of the Ribbon Society - a specialist club for contest fans and a big follower of the Cherrygrove Contest - please welcome Edgar Edge!”

It was the man Milo spoke to yesterday; slightly chubby, with receding hair, but a warm smile and altogether someone who appeared very likeable. He was wearing a t-shirt with a Skitty on the front and waved excitedly to the audience.

“Thank you!” he said.

“Next, he’s the author of ‘Ribbon Shreds’, the witty and acerbic contest column in The Cherrygrove Echo, our resident Mr Nasty, Portman Picayune!”

Mr Picayune looked serious and as cold as Edgar was warm. His long fingers and pointed chin seemed to emphasise the cold, icy exterior he possessed. The audience did not cheer, and Mr Picayune simply nodded curtly.

“Finally, adding some ‘wow’ to the contest,” said the MC. “A former Grand Festival champion, I give you…Meredith Mitchelson!”

“What!” Milo gasped. Sitting there in a long red dress was Meredith, smiling and waving to the audience. Is this why she came to Cherrygrove?

“Surprised?”

Milo turned to see Mia there drinking an iced slush drink.

“Yea, I am!” Milo said. “Mum’s judging?”

“She’s been trying to get on a judging panel for a while,” Mia admitted. “It’s pure coincidence we’re both here, too.”

“But…surely she’ll give us better marks?” Milo asked.

“You’re an idiot, Milo, Mum takes her job very seriously,” Mia said. “If anything, she’ll be really critical. I’ve heard that Portman Picayune is a bit harsh, too.”

“Oh,” Milo said.

“He once wrote in his column that an appeal from Gina Gourmante was like ‘a slap in the face with a wet sock’,” Mia said. “He can be very cruel, I hear.”

Milo just nodded.

“You ok?” Mia said. “You seem nervous.”

“I’m fine,” Milo replied. “It’s a bit weird, though. I’m going against you, and in front of Mum…”

“It’s pressure like this that brings out the best in coordinators,” Mia said. “Didn’t you find that in the Johto league? You had to go against Gary.”

“It was different, I thought I could win,” Milo said.

“And you don’t think that now?” Mia asked.

“No,” Milo said. “You’re better than me.”

Mia surveyed her brother for a moment, looking at him as she slurped on her drink loudly. Milo expected her to compliment him on his skill, and how well he had battled in Azalea, Goldenrod and Ecruteak City. Instead, she let out a hollow laugh.

“Well, at least you’re under no illusions,” she said, walking off.

“Ignore her,” Nanette said, padding Milo on the shoulder. Her trace lingered for a moment; Milo found it slightly uncomfortable.

“She’s strong,” Milo said, as the first coordinator got onto the stage and released an adorable Chikorita.

“She has one more ribbon than you,” Nanette said. “You’re much better than you think.”

Milo knew he was good at contests; his battling was sharp and he had got used to using contest technique in battles. What troubled him was that Mia knew his team quite well; she was aware Houndour was recently caught, Nanette let slip Milo had practiced Magneton’s appeal, and she also knew how much Milo relied on Medicham in a pinch.

It allowed her to figure out who Milo would use in this contest, while on the other hand, Milo had no idea which of her nine Pokemon Mia was going to use.

But then, Milo thought, as he watched the Chikorita unleash a spiralling twist of pink petals, he never knew what his opponents were going to do. And he was able to pull something out and think on his feet. Maybe that’s all he needed.

Chikorita unleashed two vines and whipped the petals apart; her quick strikes shredded the beautiful petals into thin slivers that danced slowly to the ground as she released a pink perfume into the air.

“You might not even face her,” Nanette pointed out. “I might beat her. Someone else might. You might lose the appeal stage.”

“That’s true,” Milo said. “But it’s like…knowing that she’s in the contest, I feel like if I don’t battle her, I’m in denial that my sister’s a real threat.”

“Huh?”

Nanette pulled a face, looking confused. As Milo watched the Chikorita trainer receive her score, Nanette pulled out a large box of sweets and began eating.

The coordinators today seemed strong; Milo saw a number of innovative and impressive appeals as he waited backstage with Nanette. One man had his Mr Mime run around the arena waving his hands. Nobody looked impressed, but Milo knew Mr Mime were able to solidify air with their hands, and knew the trainer had a plan.

Indeed, when Mr Mime stopped, the judges were shocked; the clown was seemingly standing in mid-air, waving. He gave a final wave of his hands and unleashed a psywave into the solid air walls he was standing on; each shield illuminated with rainbow colours of pink, sherbet yellow and stem green, and the crowd finally saw what Mr Mime created.

He stood atop a wonderful, gleaming castle, made entirely from solidified air and lit up with the psywave attack. The audience began applauding wildly as Mr Mime took a bow and the trainer smirked from the side of the stage.

“Incredible!” said Edgar, clapping. “What you did - and we see it rarely - is you created a sense of suspense. We all wondered what you were doing, and the end result paid off. I loved the colour of the psywave. I give it an 7.5!”

“The creation was clever,” came the rapt voice of the journalist, Portman Picayun. “But Mr Mime? Waving like a lunatic, and ugly to boot.”

At his remark, Portman received boos from the audience, who were cross with his blunt insult to the Pokemon. He shrugged, adjusting his thick framed glasses before he continued.

“While you made a nice castle, you spent so long doing it I got very bored,” he said. “That’s not what an appeal should be about. 5.3 from me.”

“I liked it,” Meredith said, and Milo was amazed to her his mother sounding calm and thoughtful. “You created an interesting concept, and it’s true that what you did is the specialty of Mr Mime. No other Pokemon could have done that.

“I’m going to give you 7.6,” she said, after some consideration. “It was good, but I have to say, the visual took too long. I like to see a Pokemon looking beautiful, not the Pokemon forming beauty.”

The trainer nodded as his final score - 22.4 - was shown on the screen. He held Mr Mime’s hand and walked off the stage, looking slightly disappointed at his score. Milo felt sorry for him, as the crowd loved the man’s appeal. He was also surprised at Meredith’s tone and character.

“Your mum’s a real bitch,” Nanette said, having recalled her Gloom.

“She’s not,” Milo retorted. “She’s normally batty as hell. But she’s a judge; she has to judge.”

Nanette sighed, her thick fingers poking around the corners of the sweet box in an attempt to find more sugary treats. Unfortunately she had eaten the lot, and threw the box to the ground in frustration. Milo saw another coordinator taking to the stage, this time releasing a Golduck.

It reminded Milo of his own Golduck, and he wondered how the team were doing back home. Presumably Andrew would be looking after them all. The Golduck started doing a ballet dance - curiously, it worked quite well, with Golduck bursting into the air with Aqua Jet at precise moments.

It seemed things didn’t change. Edgar was overly positive; Portman was cold and dismissive, while Meredith flitted between the two. Throughout the day she was positive, but often critical with it. A Charmander’s fire-dance appeal ignited passion in Meredith but she still made sure to point out the flaws in it; the Pokemon was obscured by his own flames, and without controlling them, it was more of a health risk than anything.

Later, a trainer who had a Gastly possess various items in the room got a very low score from Meredith, who called the whole thing ‘mildly impressive’. Milo had to agree; making the lighting fixture wobble was more an indicator of a strong gust of wind, not an exciting spectre.

Soon, Nanette was called up to appeal and looked nothing short of self-assured as she walked towards the stage. Milo slumped back in his chair and noticed Mia wandering back towards him. She pointed at Nanette and pulled a face.

“Can’t wait to see this,” she said, giving a long stretch and slouching down with her brother. “Princess Blobbo. What Pokemon does she have - a Stunky? A Lickitung?”

“Don’t be a dick, Mia,” Milo said.

“So what exactly are you two doing together, anyway? She doesn’t seem your type,” Mia said.

“She helped me catch Houndour,” Milo said. “And I gave her a lift to Cherrygrove. She’s not a bad girl, really.”

“Yes she is,” Mia said. “She’s rude, obnoxious and she smells like an old sofa.”

“I can’t argue there,” Milo admitted, causing his sister to burst into giggles.

“I preferred your little stylist friend,” Mia said. “Jonathan?”

“Jake.”

“Hmm. Does he actually style any of your Pokemon?”

“No,” Milo said.

“He should come with me,” Mia sniffed. “And help me. His talent’s wasted on you!”

Milo ignored his sisters last words as Nanette took to the stage, releasing her Gloom onto the arena. It looked so pudgy and limp, Milo felt sure he knew how Portman would feel about the creature. Then, Nanette started ordering her Pokemon to leap around the arena, releasing balls of sludge all around.

“Sludge bomb?” Milo said. “Oh…Nanette…”

It was a poor choice of appeal. Thick globules of sludge were fired in all directions, even hitting Edgar in the face. When Gloom then tried releasing a sweet scent, a thick, pungent cloud of gas filled the room. Some of the crowd even left the hall, sickened by the stench.

“This is brilliant,” Mia said, smiling. “So fun!”

“Er, Nanette?” Edgar said sweetly. “This is quite…”

“I’m not done!” Nanette said. “Photosynthesis!”

She threw something up into the air, something which sparkled. Gloom jumped up and gripped the thick, jagged green stone and began to glow brightly. Milo watched in awe as the white glow - which took over her entire body - caused the creature to blossom.

Her wilted, curled petals fluffed up and spread out across her head. The hideous fumes soon filtered into soft pink clouds of mallowy, sweet smelling fragrance and as the glowing creature landed back to the centre of the stage, the thick pools of tar-like stink formed into shiny pools of glazed sap.

“Grow!”

The light faded, revealing a larger, fatter creature in the same inky blue hue as Gloom. Her petals, however, were large, red and full of pollen. Vileplume caused large, colourful flowers to burst from the sap in the ground, like a fantastic magician.

Members of the audience were applauding wildly; Meredith got to her feet as she saw Vileplume sparkling with an energised glow. Milo was speechless; had Nanettte really planned that appeal? Had she intended to evolve Gloom, to give off a sense of disappointment, only to surprise the audience?

“What the piss!” Mia cried. “Evolving?”

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Milo said.

“It’s so risky!” Mia said. “At the 2006 Grand Festival a trainer tried evolving her Eevee into a Flareon for an appeal. But the evolution went wrong; Eevee was too stressed and young to undertake the evolution. She turned a darker shade and grew slightly, but then started bleeding everywhere. It was disgusting.”

“Yea, you can’t trigger evolution at will,” Milo said, recalling his Exeggutor, who he had to evolve at the peak of Spring. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I loved it,” said Edgar, clapping his hands enthusiastically. “Nanette, you showed us that Gloom’s ugly-duckling persona is a guise; beneath her sad smells lie a fantastic floral soul! 7.0!”

Milo saw Portman clear his throat to speak; he looked like he had come across the most precious treasure, the most delicious treat; his fingers locked together and he stared into Nanette’s eyes.

“That was, quite possibly, the biggest abomination I have ever seen in my history as a contest expert,” he said, in slow, honeyed tones.

“I-It was?” Nanette said. Portman nodded.

“You have your Pokemon run around spraying a foul poison in the arena and then use an evolution stone to manipulate its growth in the hope that it becomes a mildly interesting spectacle,” he continued. “You failed. And I’m going to tell you why.

“Pokemon like Gloom, Growlithe, Pikachu - they evolve when they are exposed to a delicate but intense form of contained energy. The energy is pocketed and stored in evolution stones, but these are incredibly rare. They are rare because if any trainer could get their hands on one, they would evolve their Pokemon with no thought to whether or not the evolution is the right thing to do. Like you just did.

“The evolution cannot be spontaneous, and grass Pokemon particularly suffer from this problem. They need to evolve in a certain climate, they need to evolve at a certain age - it needs to be planned. Likewise evolving a water Pokemon requires that the Pokemon is exposed to specific water temperatures.

“Because you carelessly evolved your Gloom during an appeal, you have caused it to evolve before perfecting it’s poison spore attacks. That means your new Vileplume will not be able to use complex attacks as its natural development is stunted.

“Nanette, your carelessness in evolving Gloom shows not only a lack of thought as a coordinator, but an almost inhumane approach to raising Pokemon. I give the appeal a 1.1.”

Milo’s mouth was hanging open at Portman’s cold but calculated attack on Nanette. The audience all watched with baited breath, too, expecting Nanette to burst into tears or shout back. She did neither. Milo saw her face twisting and contorting only slightly; whatever she was thinking, she did not show it.

“A-And Meredith?” said the MC, beckoning her to speak. Meredith flashed a warm smile at Nanette, one she certainly did not use the night before.

“I agree with Portman in some aspects,” Meredith said. “Making Gloom evolve in front of all these people - can you imagine getting ready in the morning or showering with lots of people watching? I imagine it would be horrific. Despite that, the concept of the appeal was lovely. I’m giving a 5.0.”

“That means she got like, 13/30?” Milo said, shocked.

“That is unbelievable,” Mia said, a hand over her mouth. “Shit!”

“Portman was horrible,” Milo said, as Nanette’s score was confirmed as 13.1 and she left the stage with the rather stout looking Vileplume. “Mum had the right attitude, giving her some credit.”

They both turned as Nanette appeared backstage. She stared at them for a moment, not saying a word, but then she strode over and threw herself down onto the seat between Milo and his sister.

“Have you got any more food?”

She was watching the screen as the next coordinator took to the stage. Milo was surprised Nanette wasn’t upset by the remarks Portman made, and looked for a moment at the rather unhappy looking Vileplume. Maybe it should still be called Gloom, Milo thought. It looked thoroughly miserable.

“No,” Milo said. “Sorry.”

“You suck,” rasped the girl, folding her arms.

“So, Nanette,” Mia said, smirking. “Your Vileplume is…nice.”

“Yea, I know,” Nanette said. “Oh, Milo? Think you’re up next.”

Milo looked and saw the trainer who had just appealed leave the stage with his Sandslash. This was the tall man Milo had seen practicing his appeal yesterday, and judging by his smug look, he had achieved a good score. As he was up next, Milo gripped Magneton’s Pokeball and got up to leave.

“Good luck little brother,” Mia cooed, smiling. Milo looked at her and saw the mock-cheery look on her face. She didn’t want him to do well at all. Milo stuck his middle finger up at his sister and walked towards the stage. Mia’s smile collapsed into a dark and moody scowl.

“He’ll be fine,” Nanette said.

“That’s what bothers me,” replied Mia, crossing her arms.

Milo walked onto the stage, vaguely aware the MC cried his name out. Applause rang out across the hall as Milo made his entrance, but he wasn’t quite listening to it. It felt like a pair of hands were pressed firmly over his ears, muffling the noise. His heart beat faster, louder - it was actually rather distracting.

With a deep breath, he looked around the room but avoided his mother’s gaze. Once the spotlight focused on him, Milo threw Magneton’s Pokeball up into the air, watching the clasp open up and reveal his Pokemon in a shower of white light.

“Magneton!” he shouted. “Go!”

They had decided to show-off first; it was only right. As a trail of sparks scattered across Magneton’s body, he sped along the arena in a cartwheel-fashion, with sparks dancing behind him and burning into the air. He looped around the arena, letting off a tinkling screech.

“Okay, get into the center of the arena!” Milo said. “Shock wave!”

Magneton swept upwards and slowed into a still position in the middle of the arena. More sparks danced across his shiny metal exterior, but they were soon blasted out with a sweeping crack. The orbs of sparks split once, twice, filtering away from Magneton like runaway trains.

“Now, focus - magnet pull!”

Working on a skill Milo had planned last night, Magneton focused on his natural control over metals. As positively charged electricity, the shock wave’s tendrils of electricity were magnetised. Magneton gave a long groan and the sparks, which were dotted all around the room, suddenly zoomed back towards him.

Balls and clumps of fizzing, burning sparks swept back as if pulled by elastic; Magneton’s eyes kept surveying the onslaught. Milo waited…

“…Magneton! Mirror Coat!”

As the sparks neared, a trickling mirror sheen engulfed Magneton. All the sparks smashed into his body from all angles, and their vivid yellow and gold hue reflected in the mirrored surface. At the same time, Magneton absorbed the attack, concentrating hard and withstanding the surge of electricity, before he aimed upwards…

In one concussive force, Magneton unleashed a beam of white-hot sparks from his sparkling body. They exploded in mid-air like fireworks, scattering embers and sparks all around the arena. Magneton started twirling and spinning as the shower of light filled the room.

Milo smiled, watching the crowd applaud at his show. He thought he had done a good job himself, but looked at the judges, and wondered if they had any negative comments to make. Once the appeal had ended, Magneton cart wheeled to Milo’s side.

“And now we hear from the judges!” said the MC enthusiastically. “Edgar?”

“Magneton is a very still, inanimate Pokemon, but I felt you showed some fun, some edge, a bit of character, and that made it a very accessible appeal. I give it an 8.0.”

Next, Portman Picayune cleared his throat.

“Hello Milo,” he said dryly. “Yes, you know, I actually liked that very much. My favourite appeal of the day, I think. 9.0.”

It was possibly the first positive thing he had said all day. Milo smiled, glad that he had curbed Portman’s cold tendencies. But what would his mother say? Milo looked at Meredith.

“Hello son,” she said, smiling. “First of all, tuck in your shirt.”

The audience chuckled at Meredith’s motherly remark and Milo found himself smirking at his mother as she spoke.

“Secondly, that was a very intriguing appeal. I enjoyed seeing the control Magneton has over its attacks, but also the way you used mirror coat to amplify the creature’s natural sheen. And you got praise from Portman, which is a feat in itself. 8.5 from me. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Milo said, breathing a sigh of relief. His total was 25.9 - which was rather good indeed. Milo left the stage to the applause from the audience, wondering if that score was enough to get him through to the battle rounds.

When Milo returned to the backstage area, Nanette gave him a very tight hug, enforced by her steely grip. Milo didn’t mind Nanette, but her hugs were quite distracting; she had a very curious odour Milo guessed may have come from her Gloom.

“I believed in you,” Nanette whispered coyly.

“Huh?” Milo said, pulling out the hug. Nanette stared at him with her watery eyes.

“You hero,” she said, sitting back down.

“Um, where’s Mia?” Milo said.

“No idea,” Nanette said disinterestedly, looking at the screen. Milo looked to see his sister walking onto the stage, ready to perform. Nanette obviously had known where Mia was - she would have seen her get up and leave. Milo wondered how he hadn’t crossed his sister on the way off the stage, and looked at her steely determination as she walked on to perform.

Mia had created a ‘look’ for this contest inspired by the beach resort of Cherrygrove. Her dress was in a pastel yellow and she had colourful wooden bangles on one wrist. She also wore wedge sandals. Milo knew how important it was for his sister to dress for the occasion, and also knew her tendency to buy a lot of clothes. It seemed to calm her down.

“I choose you!” she cried, throwing the ball high into the air. As the ball burst open, the white light filled the room but soon dissipated. Mia caught the ball, even though nothing emerged from it.

“Where’s her Pokemon?” Nanette said, drinking a large soda. “Is it a Kecleon?”

“No idea,” Milo said, getting his phone out. He looked on the internet, to examine Mia’s database once more. Was Kecleon her secret weapon? How would it appeal? Milo realised that if he did load Mia’s page, he could see her ninth Pokemon, as it would have been registered this morning.

“Damnit,” Milo said. His phone had no signal; he stuffed it back into his pocket frustratingly. Mia clapped her hands together and a cold fog began to fill the room. Milo wasn’t sure where it came from, but the eerie mist coiled around something central to the room. As the fog filled, distorting the area, Milo saw that the Pokemon had a shadowy form, but it moved with liquid elegance, like a fish in the deepest ocean.

“Now, use blizzard and stealth rock!” Mia cried. The shadowy form swept along the mist, causing huge, pointed bergs to burst from the floor. Some were ragged and gnarled; others were smooth. The creature slowed down as it apparently phased through a rock, speeding up as it emerged on the other side.

“Gather up the fog and mist!” Mia ordered. Suddenly, from the corners of the room, the intense veil began to swirl as if a large spoon were stirring something. Around the shadowed figure, who remained central to the room, thick swirls ran in circles.

The fog was thinning, and it showed that the creature was quite small, smaller than Milo realised. He was trying to remember Pokemon from Mia’s database off the top of his head…Granbull, no, not the control over ice and fog…Altaria? No, she would surely be hurt under this weather…Politoed? But - the effortless gliding…

Finally, she was revealed. Milo looked to see the skinny, iced Pokemon hovering in mid-air, appendages forming from her head as she directed the fog to create a thin layer around the floor. It was Frosslass; an ice and ghost type. Milo thought hard…he recalled seeing it’s profile on Mia’s database. Perhaps.

“Now, shadow ball!” Mia said. Frosslass formed the eccentric orb of compressed shadow in no time; it grew between her odd hands and expanded bigger and brighter . Milo thought that maybe due to the creatures size, the attack looked much larger.

Mia ordered Frosslass to release the shadow ball, but as she did, she focused hard, and encased it in a thick crust of solid ice. The shadow ball rose up only slightly, before Frosslass slammed it with her head and shattered it into a thousand shards of frozen umbra.

“Now, psychic!”

Floating above the ice-strewn wasteland she created, Frosslass sent the shards of shadow ball zooming around her in different patterns, like the many dizzying rings of a foreign planet. Milo folded his arms, scowling like his sister did not long ago; she had completely copied his shadow ball and ice punch combo he used with Medicham.

“Your sister’s good,” Nanette noticed.

“You thought that was good?” Milo spat. “Well…meh. Fucking cheat.”

Mia’s appeal had ended with Frosslass sending the shadow-ball-shards to destroy the thick bergs of ice littering the arena, reducing them to mere powder. On cue, the audience started applauding wildly as Mia watched on, fixated on her mother. Meredith did not look too overwhelmed.

“Mia, Mia, Mia!” Edgar cried. “What a fabulous appeal. A bit vague in parts - cloaking Frosslass detracted from it I thi-

“Excuse me?” Mia snarled.

Everyone held their breath as they watched Mia, a hand on her hip, interrupting the judge as he talked. Edgar cleared his throat, glowing with embarrassment.

“I said -”

“I know what you said,” Mia said. “That makes no sense!”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Edgar began. “It felt a bit vague.”

“Ridiculous,” Mia said. “It wasn’t vague! I revealed Frosslass. Plus, each attack was leading to the unveiling of the Pokemon. Who else can cloak, use ice and rock attacks, psychic? Obviously an experienced judge would see what I was trying to do.”

Edgar’s jaw dropped.

“Well,” he said, sniffing. “With that in mind, I’m lowering my score. 6.0.”

“You’re joking!” Mia gasped. “6!”

“I was going to give you higher,” he said. “But your little outburst lost you marks.”

“That’s so unfair!”

“5.9,” he replied, glaring at her. Milo couldn’t believe what he was seeing; Mia was behaving like a spoilt child, challenging the nicer of the three judges. Why had she been so tactless? Milo noticed Meredith looking angrier and angrier.

“It was okay,” Portman said, filling the tension caused by Edgar’s remarks. “I mean, the air of suspense isn’t as thick as you’d like it. ‘Experienced judges’, as you put them, see cloaked Pokemon a lot, let me assure you. So when you were having Frosslass work undercover, I wasn’t in suspense…but I think the blizzard and stealth rock combo was good. I don’t see that often, and that’s probably because you have trained your Pokemon well.”

“Thank you,” Mia said quietly.

“I give it a 7.5,” Portman replied. “Yea, okay, not great, work on it. That sort of thing.”

Portman had been far kinder than he had with many of the other coordinators, but his disinterest was obvious as he took a sip of his drink and started looking at his shoes. Mia turned to her mother - the glimmer of hope - and her hands clasped together.

“I agree with Portman,” Meredith said bluntly. “Pretty good, but middle of the road. 7.0.”

Milo gasped, causing Nanette, who was picking a spot, to look at the screen to see why. Meredith looked so disappointed in Mia, and her emotionless tone, coupled with her average mark showed an obvious attitude towards her daughter. Mia’s eyes began to fill as the MC announced her total score - 20.4 - and the audience applauded once more.

How on earth had Mia got such a low score? Milo recalled his entry into the Azalea contest, when he got something around 19 marks out of 30, and he felt so low, so gutted. It seemed all-too-good that he would even have got through to the battles. Mia must be feeling something similar, especially after Milo’s score.

“Err, why does your sister suck so much?” Nanette asked. “I thought she was good?”

“She is,” Milo said, screwing his face up. “I mean, that was good, but…”

“Bit boring, if you ask me,” Nanette said. Milo didn’t like her tone and decided to retort.

“Tell that to your Vileplume when it can’t learn any attacks,” he said. He got up and decided that, since Mia wasn’t back stage, she must have gone somewhere else. The MC announced a short break before the semi-finalists were announced, so Milo went to look for his sister.

It didn’t take him long. He heard familiar voices around the corner as he walked behind the scenes and soon came across his mother and sister locked in a blistering row.

“-so unprofessional, I can’t believe the way you sp-”

“He was patronising me Mum!”

“You do NOT speak to people like that! Edgar can give whatever score he wants Mia, and you have to take his opinion into account.”

“Well I won’t be taking yours into account!” Mia snapped. “SEVEN?”

“Despite what you may think, that was for your appeal, not your attitude,” Meredith said. “If I had to give you a score for your attitude, or your professionalism? Zero.”

“That is so unfair,” Mia said, her tired voice moaning and groaning. “Why are you doing this to me? Why do you hate me so much!?”

“Oh stop being so immature!” Meredith said.

“You like Milo more than me,” Mia sniffed. “I can tell! Oh son, tuck your shirt in! Oh Milo, you’re so brilliant…”

“He was brilliant,” Meredith said smugly. “I couldn’t believe how your brother performed out there. You know, when he told me he was doing contests, I was proud. But I didn’t actually think he was interested in them, so I thought Ruby might help him along, you know. And then he rings me up to say he doesn’t need her anymore, and look at him now!

“He is doing well, Mia, because he put his heart into it,” she said. “As for you? You got up there thinking you deserved to win, like it was owed to you. I am very disappointed in your behaviour, I really am. I think this contest is a good wake-up call for you to act your age and pull yourself together.”

“Bitch,” Mia muttered. Milo heard footsteps and planted himself against the wall around the corner; Meredith swept past him and down the corridor towards her dressing room. Milo was surprised to see that she looked incredibly distressed. He heard Mia sniffling round the corner, and knew better than to even try and speak to her. He quickly jogged back to Nanette.

*

The semi-finalists had been decided and the pairings made; Milo was facing a woman called Beryl, who had used the Chikorita in her appeal. Mia was going against the man who had used Sandslash. Milo learned, after sitting backstage, that the boy who came in fifth place, and was therefore eliminated, was only 0.4 points behind Mia. She had been very lucky.

For their first match, the trainers used one Pokemon each for a five minute battle. Then, in the finals, there was a doubles match with an extended fifteen minute match. Milo was on stage facing Beryl, who had a beret perched on the side of her head. She was quite cute, perhaps in her thirties.

“Beryl is choosing first,” the announced said. “Remember, you have five minutes to battle. Use style, grace, and lower your opponents appeal gauge. The winner will go on to the final.

“Begin!”

Milo saw Beryl pull out a Pokeball and swing her foot around, kicking it high into the air. Her long, elegant kick made Milo wonder if she had been a dancer, and he was distracted momentarily as the ball span into the air and burst open.

He had not expected this. The light formed into a familiar shape, with precise, diamond-shape wings and a long, craning neck. There was a sweeping tail and, as the light died down, Milo saw the red, blinking eyes of a Flygon staring at him.

Beryl giggled as Milo threw the Pokeball onto the arena. Croconaw emerged in a fantastic sparkle, clenching his fists and giving two firm snaps of his jaws. Milo had been unsure who to use, as both Croconaw and Medicham had the edge over the dragon one way or another. In the end, he went for typing.

“Okay Flygon! Take to the sky!” Beryl said.

The dragon kicked off and bolted into the sky; Milo noticed the dome had opened up, exposing the audience to the bright sun of the Cherrygrove afternoon.

“Croconaw, be careful,” Milo said quietly. “These things are fast.”

“Quick attack! Fire spin! Go!”

Milo looked up at the bright sun - its intensity caught his gaze - and saw Flygon speeding down through the air, encased in a flaming torpedo. Beryl had combined quick attack and fire spin to turn Flygon into a rocketing comet, and Milo had to act fast.

“Aqua jet, go!”

As Flygon sped down, Croconaw let the torpedo of water encase him and propelled himself across the arena. He unleashed a metal claw as he went, the sparkling energy forming in wide rings around the sweeping water attack. The audience looked on, impressed, as Croconaw landed on the other side of the arena.

“Now, water gun!”

Blasting the thick, foamy jet, Croconaw managed to strike Flygon and extinguish some of the fire. Beneath a veil of steam, Flygon had been struck in the side, costing Beryl points on her gauge. Milo smiled, ordering an ice beam.

“Fire!”

But it seemed Croconaw was not quick enough; as he opened his mouth, unleashing the pearly-white beam of collected ice, Flygon launched into the air once more. Milo knew, from raising one himself, that Flygon had very powerful legs but weak arms, and their large legs were useful in allowing them to push off the ground and propel themselves into the air.

“Water gun!”

“Fire blast!” Beryl said. From mid-air, Flygon fired a long jet of searing-hot flames. Croconaw countered with a water gun, and the two collided in mid-air. Croconaw clenched his fists and kept blasting the jet of water, but Flygon’s fire blast was causing the water to boil, and with an almighty grunt, Flygon forced the jet of boiling water back down on Croconaw, who gave a loud cry of agony.

“No!” Milo said. Croconaw staggered back, clutching his gums. Fire blast was far stronger than water gun and had thus overpowered his Pokemon, but the boiling water part? Milo was shocked. It seemed that for conquering the type advantage, Beryl’s strategy also cost Milo valuable points on his appeal gauge.

“Now Flygon! Iron tail!”

Croconaw was nursing his gums when Flygon span around; even though the creature was in the air, the tail was long and spiked, and with one swift spin, Croconaw was smacked in the face. He fell down to the ground as Flygon flapped along the arena towards him.

“Croconaw, get up!” Milo said. “Aqua Jet!”

Nodding, the alligator encased himself in water and burst into the air. Milo had an idea to scare Flygon away.

“Break out the aqua jet in mid-air, then go into aqua tail!”

Croconaw nodded, shooting up before leaping out the attack for a moment. The tip of his tail glowed brilliantly and he span it around; a dizzying trail of water span from his tip and whipped around, spraying at Flygon and causing the creature to flap back. Croconaw fell to the ground, his tail spinning, and charged up metallic energy in his claws.

With a crackle, Croconaw’s long, silvery claws extended, and he landed on the arena supported just by his hands, a vivid metallic sheen surrounding him. His tail, pointed upright, continued to spew a twist of water into the air.

“Excellent display!” Edgar said.

“He’s not hurting Flygon though,” Portman pointed out. Beryl’s appeal gauge did not fall much.

“Flygon use a gust to blow him over! Then strike with quick attack!” Beryl ordered. Milo saw what was happening before it did; with one flap of his wings, Flygon send an intense blast that knocked Croconaw over onto his side. The water from the aqua tail disappeared slowly.

As he got to his feet, Croconaw saw Flygon speeding low along the arena, close to the ground, arms tucked in. He was unsure if he had time or not, but Croconaw fired off an ice beam attack right at the foe. Being slim and streamlined, Flygon flapped up slightly and avoided the attack, but Croconaw growled and aimed higher; a stronger beam, more powerful than before, smashed into Flygon’s torso and caused the creature to fall out the air.

“Good work!” Milo said. “Now, aqua jet to strike Flygon. Hit him, break out the attack then use it again to get away.”

Flygon’s arms were not frozen, but the frost had almost pinned them to his body, so he could not use them to steady himself and get up. Croconaw sped along the arena and struck the creature in the side; Flygon gave a wail that was all-too-familiar to Milo.

“Stay where you are,” Milo said, assessing how immobile Flygon was. “Ice fang, to his left foot! Go!”

Croconaw grinned happily and sunk his teeth into Flygon’s foot; he sent searing cold ice crystals through the creature’s foot and did not let go, chuckling to himself as he concentrated harder and harder. Flygon’s tail sprang to life and wavered in the air like a charmed serpent.

“Hit it!” Beryl said.

“Keep sunk in, arm yourself with metal claw!” Milo said. As the tail swept down, Croconaw swung his right claw left to right and his left claw right to left. The glowing, sparkling claws - echoing Magneton’s appeal in their sparkle and sheen - clashed with Flygon’s tail and repelled it.

“Headbutt!” came the next order. Flygon tucked his head in and smashed it into Croconaw, sending him flying along the arena. Croconaw rolled along the floor as Flygon managed to stretch his arms and claws. His left leg, however, was encased in ice and very hurt. The creature surveyed Croconaw from the ground.

“Let’s go for a dragon breath,” Beryl said. Flygon opened his mouth and unleashed a blazing jet of energy; Croconaw leapt to the side but didn’t quite avoid it; it seared into his side and left a scorch mark. Croconaw rolled along the ground and got back up, firing a jet of water at Flygon.

“The appeal gauge’s are both still incredibly high,” noted Portman from behind his thick spectacles. “Neither are being very stylish here.”

Milo looked; he was losing, but only slightly. He had to do something good, something clever. Something brilliant. But what? He thought of Croconaw’s attacks but wasn’t sure what he could do to ensure victory. Unless…

“Croconaw, go for another aqua jet,” Milo said. Nodding, the creature rocketed through the air. “Okay, now start to use ice fang to encase the jet in ice. Become a torpedo!”

Flygon saw this and swung his tail around, whacking into Croconaw and causing him to fall to the ground out of his aqua jet. Flygon got to his feet, looking to be in extreme pain, but Croconaw had rocketed into another aqua jet attack.

Swinging his tail around a second time, Flygon was not surprised when Croconaw directed himself within the aqua jet and veered left. However, Flygon blasted a dragon breath into Croconaw, striking him and throwing him to the ground.

Milo was losing…it was almost over…

“Get up! Aqua jet! Go into ice fang, now!” Milo shouted. Croconaw staggered up his feet and burst into the aqua jet a third time. As ice began to form around the exterior, Croconaw sped at Flygon, but he was ready once again.

His tail swung around and smashed into the icy torpedo; once the ice broke and the water ruptured across the arena, however, a long, painful screech filled the air. Flygon clutched his ears and contorted his face; Croconaw had isolated a screech attack within the icy torpedo, and shattering it had filled the room with the sharp cries.

“Croconaw!” Milo cried, as his alligator leapt out the aqua jet. He was in mid-air, almost over Flygon… “Ice beam! Straight down!”

The powerful jet swept down at a sharp angle and smashed into Flygon, driving him further into the ground. Croconaw focused all his energy into the attack as the timer rang out Milo looked up at the screen; both appeal gauges were almost identical, so close. But which one had won?

“Folks, it looks like the gauges are identical!” said the MC. “Well, this doesn’t happen very often!”

Milo glanced across at Beryl. She looked quietly confident. Flygon lay on his side, gasping, while Croconaw was back at Milo’s side, catching his breath. What happened when an appeal gauge was not clearly defined as higher or lower? Milo didn’t have to wait long; the MC explained that the judges had to vote on who they felt was the stronger contestant.

“Edgar, if you will please state the name of the coordinator who you wish to go through to the final round?” asked the MC.

Edgar cleared his throat.

“Milo.”

Milo smiled; one vote. He knew he could count on Edgar.

“Portman?”

Portman thought for a moment.

“Both strong contenders. But Flygon relied on the sheer force of the slightest wiggle. Croconaw fought above and beyond with style. I choose Milo.”

Milo’s face broke into a wide smile; two out of three votes - that meant he was going through to the finals regardless of his mother’s vote. He saw her briefly; she looked torn. Was she worried about having to vote for her son, or did she regret her argument with Mia? Perhaps it was something different entirely.

“Milo has the majority vote,” the MC said. “I am sorry, Beryl. You are eliminated.”

Nodding, Beryl held herself together and recalled Flygon back into his Pokeball. Milo was through to the finals of the contest - and was an inch closer to getting his fourth contest ribbon. The thought flashed before him briefly; what would Jake say when Milo returned to Violet City with a new ribbon? How would it make Luna feel?

Meanwhile, Mia was watching the screen backstage as Nanette stared at her with apparent awe.

“Are you still pissed off at what your Mom said?” Nanette muttered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mia replied.

“I heard you when I went to the toilet. Screaming about Milo. It’s not healthy to compete with siblings,” she said.

“Is that so?”

“Well I don’t have any,” Nanette said. “But my Mom bought herself a Poliwag to cheer her up when my Daddy left her. He said she turned into a big fat monster. She was quite big, and quite fat, but she wasn’t a monster. Anyway Mom loved Poliwag so much she started ignoring me. ‘Oh Nanette’, she used to say. ‘Leave Mommy with her Poliwoggle. Go and play, be a little girl. Mommy wants her Poliwoggle.”

“Are you comparing my 22 year old brother to a Poliwag?” Mia asked.

“Yes,” came her firm reply. “The situation’s the same. Someone takes the attention away - something takes the focus.”

“So what did you do,” Mia asked lazily, still watching the screen.

“I waited until it was fast asleep,” Nanette began, swelling with dark pride. “I picked it up and placed it in the ground. Poliwag need moisture, all the time. Usually sleep in a shallow bath. I filled the ground with dirt and soil. Bye Poliwoggle.”

Mia’s eyes widened as she heard the end of the story. Nanette’s eyes lit up with a dark spark; she looked so happy just thinking about the memory of burying her mother’s favourite Pokemon alive. It filled a hunger the girl couldn’t tame with sugary snacks.

“…Are you serious?” Mia asked.

“Deadly,” came her reply.

“Did you see that!” came Milo’s voice. Mia looked to see her brother striding into the room to mild applause from those who chose to watch the rest of the contest. “Through to the finals! Yes!”

“Good for you,” Mia said, getting out her chair. “Well, I have my match. If you will excuse me.”

“Is she okay?” Milo said, as Mia swiftly left to go on stage.

“Oh, fine,” Nanette mused, her finger firmly lodged up her nose. “Girl stuff.”

“Right,” Milo said.

He sat down next to Nanette and watched the match between Mia and her foe. Mia seemed quite laid back about the match, sending out her Ninetales. This was Mia’s first Pokemon, raised as a Vulpix until the day before Milo left to coordinate. It had a beautiful, glossy coat, but there was a fierceness to it, too. Milo had always assumed it was used for appealing. Evidently not.

Ninetales gave off a high-pitched bark as the foe was released - a Ludicolo. These were quite large, stocky Pokemon, with a duck-like bill and big eyes. Milo had never actually seen one of them battle before; they were rare in Johto.

The battle was surprisingly quick; Ninetales darted along the arena in elegant strides as Ludicolo flapped about. Though she was weak to Ludicolo’s water attacks, Ninetales used hot jets of fire to interrupt, and therefore ruin Ludicolo’s jaunty dances.

Mia made quick work of the pineapple-shaped Pokemon, and as Milo watched backstage, he realised something that had been a burden since he saw Mia at the Pokemoncenter the previous night. His sister was standing in the way of his fourth ribbon.

*

This was it. Milo had two Pokeballs, one in each hand; Medicham and Croconaw, ready to take on Mia. Mia looked disinterested on the other side of the arena, holding two Pokeballs, too. Milo felt that familiar deafening silence come over him as the MC explained the rules. They were the same as before, but the match was longer.

Before he knew it, Mia threw her first Pokeball onto the arena, revealing the fiercely beautiful Ninetales. Milo threw Medicham’s Pokeball forward and she emerged onto the arena, one leg raised, both hands clasped above her head.

Next, Milo sent Croconaw forward, and he readied himself on all fours. He seemed excited to battle Ninetales; perhaps due to the type advantage, perhaps due to the seriousness of the situation. Mia got her second Pokeball and threw it onto the arena, where a long, thin shape took form.

Milo saw long, slim arms form from a stick-thin body, with slightly wider legs. The creature was his size; the light died down revealing a white-bodied creature with a red head crest. It was a Gallade; the psychic/fighting evolution of Kirlia, and branch-off of Gardevoir.

It looked like an impressive Pokemon, flicking both arms out as long, slender blade-like extensions protruded out. Mia put one hand on her hip and observed Milo. Medicham, meanwhile, eyed the new foe with intrigue. Psychic and fighting, just like her.

“BEGIN!”

“Ninetales go for a quick attack!” Mia shouted.

In a flash, Ninetales sped along the arena towards Milo’s two Pokemon. He ordered Croconaw to leap onto the arena and use an aqua tail; he jumped onto his front claws and, wiggling his tail in the air, spewed the twisting vortex of water across the arena. Ninetales was struck and staggered back, letting off a hiss.

“Gallade! Intervene!” Mia shouted. As Medicham stood behind Croconaw, spinning and keeping Ninetales at bay, the Gallade sprinted across the arena, blades drawn. Milo was impressed with its speed. Gallade’s blades were glowing white; he span on the spot and unleashed one, two, three blades of white-hot energy. The first slammed into Croconaw’s stomach and lifted him off the ground briefly. The next two slammed into him and hurled him across the arena.

“Croconaw!” Milo shouted. The attack seemed to be infused with some form of telekinesis, one Medicham didn’t possess. “Medicham, go and face Gallade. Teleport and fire punch.”

She nodded and flicked her hands out; both burst into flames that coiled up her wrist. Medicham ran along the arena, fists blazing, and saw the Gallade stand at the ready. She leapt high into the air, but with a pop! she disappeared.

In a flash, Medicham re-appeared behind Gallade and swung her fists into the creature’s body. Gallade staggered forward but swung his left arm behind him; his elbow connected with Medicham’s face, allowing him to spin around and unleash a thick slice of energy from his other blade.

Even though it was a psychic attack it seemed to cause Medicham quite some grief; she was bowled over by the strong attack. Ninetales charged at Croconaw, but he swept out of the way with an aqua jet, before firing a jet of water down at the fox.

Gallade leapt into the air and span around feverishly like a rabid spinning top. More white-hot blades of energy swept down through the air, raining down on Milo’s Pokemon. Medicham leapt in front of Croconaw and held her hands out, projecting telekinesis in a dome-like blast similar to a force field. It dissipated Gallade’s attacks.

“Ninetales! Flamethrower at Medicham!” called Mia. Medicham saw the jet of flame shooting from the fox’s mouth and teleported to the other side of the arena. However, it seemed Gallade anticipated this, for once she re-appeared, the psychic soldier shook wildly and let off a volley of sparks, which coursed right through Medicham’s body.

“Ice punch!” Milo shouted. Maybe mobility was the way to overcome this beast. Medicham’s fist swung up to strike Gallade, but with lightning-fast reflexes an appendage swung up and blocked the punch. Gallade then disarmed Medicham by sweeping her blade outwards and exposing Medicham; another swift slice of energy connected with Medicham and threw her across the arena.

Focusing on one Pokemon wasn’t working. Milo furrowed his brow, confused as he had never encountered this creature before. He saw the appeal gauge - he was losing. Mia was blocking his attacks and deflecting them with style - it didn’t matter that she wasn’t dealing much damage herself.

“Switch,” Milo said to the two. “Medicham, use psycho cut on Ninetales. Croconaw, fire an ice beam at Gallade.”

Ninetales was racing along the arena, her thick thatch of tails trailing behind. Medicham held two fingers to her temple as they glowed softly. Flinging them out, she sent a sharp blade of energy at Ninetales. The creature leapt over the first, landing deftly (and getting cheers from the crowd) but the second struck her in the side and she fell over.

Meanwhile, Croconaw fired off the beam of ice towards Gallade. Milo was impressed to see how it had improved recently; the thick beam looked stronger, which meant it was also a lot colder. Milo’s plan was to use ice against Gallade; if it blocked the attack, it would surely seize up with the cold, and he could strike.

Gallade swung a blade up to connect with (and block) the ice beam, but Milo’s plan worked - ice began forming over the creature’s blade and it got heavy, crystallised. As Gallade felt his blade seize up, he stooped forward slightly. Croconaw swept along in an aqua jet and struck him right in the torso.

The alligator leapt out the attack and landed on the arena, spinning his silvery claws and basking in the glow. Mia’s appeal gauge began to fall, and it didn’t help that Ninetales’ attempts to save her team mate were stopped by Medicham. As the fox raced to bite Croconaw, Medicham intervened with a high-jump kick that struck the fox and sent her flying into the air.

“Yes!” Milo said. Medicham looked at her cuts and bruises, examining herself as Croconaw fired a water gun at Ninetales. Gallade’s eyes were wide, struggling to understand how to overcome the situation.

“Okay, Medicham, use a fire punch,” Milo began. “But then use a psychic. Wrap the flames around you like we did in Goldenrod; cauterise your wounds.”

Medicham nodded, summoning the flames in her palms and then manipulating them with her PSI powers. They formed into a snaking tendril that span around the monkey like a flaming tyre, before growing into a cocoon shape. While the heat caused Medicham’s cuts to heal up, she fired a swift attack into the sky from within her fiery cocoon; flaming stars rocketed into the sky and exploded, entertaining the crowd.

As Medicham did this, Gallade watched keenly, his eyes focused on the flames. Croconaw was using metal claw and performing moves for the audience, entertaining them.

“Mimic!” Mia yelled.

“No!” Milo shouted, as Gallade’s free blade began to burst into flame.

He span on the spot, again and again, the red-hot blade swathed in fire as he swirled around and melted the ice on his free arm. Mia cackled in triumph as Gallade mimicked the fire punch, freeing himself from the ice.

“Croconaw! Ice-aqua jet!” Milo shouted. Bursting into a watery torpedo, Croconaw arched up into the air before shooting down towards Gallade. Clenching his icy fangs, Croconaw summoned a frosty sheen to begin spreading through the attack, hardening it.

Mia studied the scene for a moment, before nodding to Gallade. He held his appendages up in defence, taking the attack from Croconaw with a groan. Croconaw’s icy torpedo smashed into Gallade and he staggered back, giving Croconaw chance to leap out the attack.

“X-Scissor!” Mia said. Gallade nodd1ed and began sprinting along the arena. Milo had assumed Croconaw was the target, but he was wrong. Gallade’s blades were crossed over his chest and they glowed brilliantly.

Fully aware the attack would cause Medicham a lot of damage, Milo ordered Croconaw to get in the way. It seemed evading attacks was problematic in doubles matches; another foe would always lie in wait. Medicham watched as Croconaw attacked.

“Okay, fire an ice beam!” he said, as Croconaw then blasted off the fantastic beam of ice. Gallade, who had reached quite a speed, leapt high into the air and flipped over with grace. Croconaw then fired a jet of water, missing once more.

“Hit it!” Milo said. Croconaw’s claws were clenched in fists, and they sparkled with a metallic sheen. But Milo saw a similar glow across the tip of the creature’s tail. Supporting himself on his front paws, Croconaw waited until Gallade got close before leaping forward and swinging his tail around.

The iron tail connected with Gallade’s jaw; he roared in agony and stumbled back, clumsily unleashing the X-Scissor. As a result, it was easy to avoid, and Mia lost valuable points on her appeal gauge. Milo saw Croconaw fire off an aqua tail at Ninetales, but coated his tail in an iron sheen, sending the water at Ninetales with intricate silver sparkles.

“Good work!” Milo said, noticing Mia’s appeal gauge drop. “Medicham! Use the aqua tail to get close to Ninetales and then use thunder punch!”

As Ninetales was kept at bay with the twisting jet of water, Medicham raced along the arena, leaping left and right, using the water as cover. Her fists were crackling with sparks as she neared her opponent. Gallade saw this, however, and raced along the arena to hold her off.

Holding his blades above his head, Gallade caused Croconaw to levitate off the ground. As he was levitated, Gallade swung his blades and sent two thick strips of energy slamming into Croconaw’s belly. He was thrown out the air and slammed into the ground.

“Ninetales, Will-O-Wisp!” Mia yelled.

Medicham looked up to see a whooshing swarm of flames sweeping towards her and she held a hand out in order to try and prevent them from reaching her. Using her telekinesis, she held the flames away, and they fluttered about her like angry wasps.

Croconaw saw this and fired a jet of water to extinguish any of the rogue flames. Medicham nodded to him and they both raced across the arena at their foes. Milo bit his lip as the clock ticked down; he had tried different combinations of his Pokemon against Mia’s, but nothing was working. Medicham and Croconaw seemed to be communicating to try and use their own instincts in their strategy.

Gallade wielded his arms and they glowed brightly. With a roar, he unleashed two long, thick blades of energy across the arena. Medicham held her hands out and flung Croconaw into the air so that he avoided the attack. Moments later, Medicham was struck by the attack and fell to the ground as Croconaw soared high into the air.

He aimed down and fired off a water gun that smashed into Ninetales and blasted her across the arena - it seemed to deal more damage as it was fired from a distance. Staggering back, dizzied by the cold burst, Ninetales gave a cry; she saw Croconaw sailing down through the air, firing an ice beam down at Gallade.

“Fire punch! Spin!” Mia ordered. Gardevoir’s appendages burst into flames and as he span, a flaming circle surrounded him. Milo had anticipated this, however, and ordered Medicham to manipulate the fire with a psychic attack.

She pulled it towards her, grasping her fingers and flicking her wrist; the flames snaked across the arena, curling up into the air and exploding into a big shower of bright embers. The audience applauded as Medicham practiced yoga positions while she was illuminated by the stolen fire.

A sweeping feeling of elation filled Milo as Mia’s appeal gauge lowered. He was in with a chance. Gallade had been a shock, but he was overcoming the creature’s powers. Milo saw Croconaw sneak a metal claw attack upon the creature’s back and smiled.

“Medicham! Scramble Ninetales’ head with a psychic,” he commanded. “Then teleport and jump kick!”

Medicham nodded, staring into Ninetales’ amber eyes and sending strong mental images at her. The fox screwed her face up, feeling the effects similar to a strong migraine. Her left and right paws crossed as she tried to walk forward, and she gave a long groan.

Medicham raced along the arena at the dizzied Pokemon, and Croconaw began to keep Gallade at bay. Medicham then leapt into the air and disappeared with a quick pop, before re-emerging and swinging her foot into Ninetales. She gave a long cry as she collapsed to the ground.

Gallade slashed a psycho cut through the air, but Medicham took it without so much as a grunt of dissatisfaction. As Croconaw fired off a water gun, Medicham pressed a finger to her temple and sent it speeding through the air at an accelerated rate, giving it more power.

The hyper-water gun ploughed into Ninetales, driving her into the wall of the contest hall. Mia let out a cry as her Pokemon was deemed unfit for battle. The crowd’s cheers erupted as the match intensified; Milo saw Croconaw gasping for air as Gallade prepared to go it alone.

“Ninetales is unable to battle,” said the announcer gravely. From the sidelines, Meredith locked her fingers together and leaned in closer to the battle.

“Medicham! Shadow ball! Croconaw, ice beam!” Milo ordered. Medicham started charging up the shadowy orb in her hands as Croconaw fired off an intense ice beam that soared through the air. Gallade leapt into the air and avoided the attack, before teleporting and re-appearing behind Medicham.

Both blades crackled with sinister energy, and in one quick thrash of his blade-like appendages, Gallade unleashed a devastating night slash into Medicham’s back. She fell onto the ground, her incomplete shadow ball bursting into smoky tendrils of darkness.

Medicham got to her feet to see Gallade firing a psycho cut at Croconaw. He avoided it by leaping across the arena, and summoned a spinning aqua tail to surround himself. As he danced elegantly, water spiralled around him, and he made sure to execute a metal claw to give a shimmering glow to the attack.

Good, good, make it look pretty, Milo thought. “Medicham! Fire punch at Gallade! Croconaw leap into an aqua jet!”

Medicham’s palms burst into flames and she ran along the arena. Gallade saw this and ran towards her in a show of guts. Milo watched as Mia showed a look of determination on her face; Gallade’s blades crackled with another night slash attack.

“Watch out!” Milo said, just as Medicham neared. “Leap up!”

Medicham nodded and, pressing her feet into the ground, leapt as high into the air as she could. Gallade saw this and, aiming at his target, unleashed the night slash as two long, sweeping blades of dark energy. They smashed into Medicham’s body and threw her from the air; she fell to the ground with a dull thud as the flames on her wrists faded away.

Gallade had feigned the attack; he had just pretended to attack Medicham so she got out the way, and Mia must have known that Medicham would go up instead of left or right. If she had gone left, Gallade would have slashed right, and vice versa. He had walked into a trap.

Croconaw soared through the air, encased in the watery torpedo. He swept through the air, aiming for Gallade, who had been distracted unleashing the night slash attack. The psychic Pokemon looked up and Croconaw, staring right at him through the watery barrier.

Just then, Croconaw stopped in mid-air; the water he propelled soon fell to the ground and splashed along the arena, but Gallade held Croconaw aloft with her psychic powers. He flailed about in the air, trying to aim a jet of water at the psychic soldier, but Gallade kept Croconaw’s jaws shut with psychic.

“Medicham, hit Gallade with a shadow ball!” Milo said. Medicham charged the orb of energy, but Gallade threw his arms up and sent Croconaw high into the rafters of the building. As the alligator soared, Gallade leapt into the air, teleported mid-leap and appeared next to Croconaw, dealing an impressive, sparkling slash into his stomach.

Struck, Croconaw plummeted to the ground, smashing into the arena floor with a sickening crunch. Milo saw Medicham hastily hurl the shadow ball in Gallade’s direction so she could run over and see if her ally was ok. Gallade teleported away from the shadow ball effortlessly.

“Are you okay?” Milo asked Croconaw. He got to his feet, clutching his head wearily, but no sooner had he got up than his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. Milo got down on one knee and held his Pokemon; he looked very weak.

“Croconaw is unable to battle!” the announcer cried. Milo looked at the appeal gauge; with Croconaw down, Milo and Mia’s gauges were very, very close. Mia had the edge, just. As Milo recalled Croconaw into his glittery Pokeball, he got to his feet. Medicham was at his side.

“I know you’re really tired,” Milo said to her. “But all we need is to wear Gallade down a little more.”

Medicham nodded, panting and looking at the foe. Gallade pressed his blade appendages together and charged them with cracking dark energy. This was a night slash again, and it would be deadly if it connected with Medicham. Luckily, as Gallade raced through the air, Medicham disappeared with a quick pop.

Emerging inches from Gallade, Medicham saw Gallade stumble in confusion and swung a punch into his back. The connecting punch threw Gallade off balance and he hit the ground hard. However, as he hit the ground, Gallade simply shattered. Milo gasped as the white creature blasted into millions of pieces before them.

He had seen this technique used before, in the Johto league. It was substitute. Which meant the real Gallade was…

Medicham looked up to see Gallade rocket down from mid-air, one blade glowing with crackling dark energy. The other was swathed in flames, the same flames mimicked from Medicham’s fire punch. As she looked up, the flames sliced across her chest and Gallade dealt a quick, powerful slash with his other appendage. Medicham flew back, rolling along the ground limply.

Milo’s mouth hung open as he began to realise the truth, but the buzzer rang out and the announcer spoke up. Milo ran over to Medicham, who lay still, while Gallade leapt to Mia’s side. Milo’s head was spinning, and the words spoken by the announcer were muffled. All he focused on was his injured Pokemon.

Her eyes were drooping shut, and her thin frame was scorched with battle marks. Milo got her Pokeball out from his pocket and pulled her inside with it’s strong, red beam. She would be safe here. Milo looked up to see Mia hugging the announcer as he told the audience Mia was now eligible for entry into the Grand Festival.

“I just want to thank my mom, who has been amazing,” Mia said. “And all my incredible Pokemon, obviously. I hope you all cheer me on at the Grand Festival!”

Milo swallowed. It began to dawn on him just what had happened - he had lost to Mia, the one person he had set out to beat at coordinating. This was after he had earned three ribbons and trained an impressive team up; he was hardly new and inexperienced at this.

As the judges came onto the stage to congratulate Mia, Milo walked off the stage. He had used Medicham, his strongest Pokemon and his closest friend, yet she had not been able to help him against Mia. Milo thought about Gallade, the incredible Pokemon Mia had used. When had she captured it? It can’t have been recent - it was far too strong, far too fluid in battle.

Milo hadn’t noticed it, but his legs carried him past Nanette Babcock, who had been waiting backstage. Milo walked out of the contest hall, his hands in his pocket, his eyes staring at the ground. The afternoon was coming to a close, and the sun was dipping below the sky. The sunset smeared the sky a brilliant, iced raspberry colour, but Milo didn’t notice.

Magneton’s appeal had been higher than Mia’s. He had done really well! How had he lost to her? Milo couldn’t answer; his insides crackled with a hot, spiky anger. It was like smouldering splinters burned inside his stomach.

Milo stopped; he was on Cherygrove‘s beach. Standing on one foot he removed his left trainer, then his right. He tossed them into the sandy shore and dipped his feet in the water, before finally looking up at the sky.

Tomorrow he would drive back to Violet City and see Jake, and train for the Violet City Contest. He had to do it soon, while he was keen to prove himself again. He needed to catch up to Mia, she had five ribbons now! She could go to Silver City tomorrow and register for the Grand Festival if she wanted to. And she would be wise to do so, because there were a limited number of spaces.

Imagine if Milo got his five ribbons, but registration for the Grand Festival was full?

Milo sat like this for several hours, saying nothing, thinking about everything. In fact, he only got up when his feet felt cold in the usually warm waters. He looked around, and darkness had set in. Grabbing his trainers in his hands, Milo wandered back to his hotel, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he went.



Next time
Milo is feeling low after his loss to Mia, and sets to work on his next contest. When he tries to drive back to Violet City, his car is vandalised, and he immdiately suspects Nanette is behind it. Meanwhile, Jake pours his heart out to Gina, and tells her about the membership card, but can she keep it to herself?



-Ok so this was a pretty big showdown between Milo and Mia. When I wrote this, I found it hard to get across how the two were both very strong, but in different ways.

-Weirdly, Milo seemed better at appealing, and Mia better at battling.

-In scenes I cut from the chapter, we saw Mia obtaining a Kirlia, and seeking to train it. She trained under Sabrina, who she went to Boarding School with. Sabrina convinced her to evolve it to Gallade.

-The idea was, after seeing Milo win the Goldenrod contest, Mia realised she'd have to fight her brother one day, and went through a really tough training regime in Kanto.

-I don't think Milo's loss was too surprising, since I've always seen Gallade as an impressive Pokemon.

-As for Nanette, her appeal was inspired by the anime. A girl in the anime used an appeal involving two Eevees which she threw elemental stones at. I considered this, and thought about how forced stone-evolutions are.

-In the end, I concluded it was a pretty dumb thing to do, and the Pokemon would have to be raised carefully so that the sudden evolution wasn't too painful or stressful.

-So Nanette, in trying to be clever, has kind of stunted her Vileplume's growth.

-The judges were also sort of inspired by shows like American Idol and X Factor. Particularly Portman, who I based off some journalists I know. He is bloated on his own sense of self-worth, and writes a contest-based column. I'd quite like him to return, maybe at the Grand Festival.

-In this chapter I also wanted to show a different side to Meredith. She's been seen as dizzy and a bit stupid, but in her 'work' environment, I wanted to show how she's actually screwed on, professional and thoughtful.

-It was probably hard for her to slate Mia's appeal, but as she made it clear backstage, she is not here to help Mia. And Milo did fine without her help.

-Just a note: I mentioned last chap how I had a complex, deep storyline for Nanette, but I'm kind of shelving it since it isn't working out. She is in the next chapter, after which I'll maybe spill some details.

-It's all canon stuff, but stuff I can't fit into the story without it being jarring or weird. It was also maybe a little bit dark.

-So after this, I'm going to post a little mini chapter which is the Jake/Gina/Falkner scenes that were supposed to go in here.

-Then there will be the final part of The Golden Arc, which focuses on the Gym Leader Showcase that was mentioned in the last part when Steven Stone spoke to Michael.

-To help promote the league, an exhibition match is being held between Whitney and Cianwood's new leader, Eusine. Steven mentioned to Michael that he had a team of men who were going to storm the event and steal some Pokemon, but if Michael acted, Meredith, Mia and Milo would be killed.

-So we see that going down.

-After the Golden Arc is tied up, a new arc will kick off, which will focus on quite a popular character we haven't seen for a while.

-I also have quite a heartbreaking scene planned...

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

I liked Meridith a lot. She seemed really mature and very professional, very unlike the Meridith we've seen before (or I just didn't pay much attention to her). Mia's a bitch, no new knowledge in that, but she's strong. Gallade was very impressive, but Medicham is still my king (eventhough it's a queen).

Further more, Nanette isn't really my character. It just doesn't fit for me.

Looking forward to the Golden Arc, which I especially like.

Steven is also a badass mofo!

[The_Missing_Link]

I really liked this chapter. It was interesting to see your take on stone evolutions and what happens if Pokemon are evolved too early

When will Milo find out that Nanette is not just weird but actually crazy?


I'm trying to figure how you're going to have Jake reveal his feelings to Milo, if Milo doesn't deduce it first. It's going to be interesting, to say the least

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: I'm glad you could see another side of Meredith, I think she is a many-layered character. It's interesting how little she favors Mia over Milo. I think Meredith has seen Mia turn into a brat when she never did herself, and is perhaps trying to wake her daughter up to the situation.

Mia was strong, but as I mentioned earlier, I think she has worked very hard on a single strategy - to take Milo on toe-to-toe. Having said that, I think she'd be able to handle Gina, Dior and Luna in a battle. Later in the fic we meet a character who might give Mia a run for her money.

Shame you don't like Nanette. You'll be happy to hear she doesn't stick around for long, I have been torn over how much to include her in future but I think in terms of character, we'll see enough of her to tie up her story.

And Steven will appear again soon :O


TML: Hey, great to hear from you. I felt stone evolutions have to have some kind of downfall, and I do always ponder how they would work. I think they're a concentrated form of energy which work like hormones do during puberty, so using them at the wrong time is just catastrophic. Also, in RSE, I remember evo stones being quite rare, and I think in this world, they'd be so hard to come by. You wouldn't find them in a shop.

As for Jake's feelings...it's one of those slightly more long-term plots but it'll develop a little over the next few chapters.


Okay so here is a little extra bit. This didn't fit into Ch25 but is essential for the future story-lines, so I thought I'd show you it all now. Let me know what you think!




PREVIOUSLY
-Milo and Jake met Falkner
-Falkner believed his father was murdered, but had been told he died of a heart attack
-He learned Keadis was reported dead in Goldenrod City, where he had been meeting someone.

Show-Off
-?-
Clairsentience and The Tragic Tale of Keadis

Jake looked up at the sky, puffed-up with mallowy clouds. He felt odd spending time in Violet City without Milo; the two had been on the road together for some time, and being so far from home, with nothing immediate to do was quite confusing.

Nevertheless, he swept his blonde fringe from his face and focused on the battle. He was on the top floor of the tight, coiled Violet City gym, exposed to the skies, training his Pokemon against Falkner. Wingull was facing Falkner’s Noctowl, while Parasect and Ditto sat with Gina Gourmante, who observed with mild interest.

The three had spent a lot of time together; they usually had dinner or met for drinks in the evening if Gina wasn’t working. Jake was fond of Gina; she felt like an older sister, albeit one with loose morals. Falkner, on the other hand, felt like a cousin; Jake didn’t know much about him, but he exuded a manly confidence Jake enjoyed seeing.

Jake had never had strong relationships with either parent; he had bonded closely with his father, but he left home when Jake was young, leaving the boy with his mother, a strict academic, who had turned to self-deprecation and blame to deal with the divorce. Jake left home as soon as he could after that, and (as far as he knew) had no brothers or sisters.

“You okay?”

Falkner’s voice cut through his thoughts; Jake looked ahead to see the Pokemon waiting for instructions. He nodded, shuffling his feet, and pointing to the large owl.

“Sweep up, and fire a water gun directly down!” Jake said. Wingull took to the skies, soaring up at a steep angle just as Noctowl bolted through the air to strike the foe. Evading, Wingull twisted his beak and fired down a jet of water at Noctowl, but the Pokemon flapped left and dodged it.

“Water gun is strong, but it hasn’t got a wide blast radius,” Falkner reminded Jake. This was not the first time they had discussed this. “I can just dodge it, you know?”

“Fine,” Jake said. “Wingull! Gust!”

Flapping his thin wings, Wingull created a fierce gust that swept along his side of the arena. Noctowl saw this and flew high into the rafters of the gym, before focusing energy in his large eyes. Jake saw a fantastic rainbow beam fire down at Wingull, but he managed to catch an air current and sweep along the left of the circular arena.

“Good!” Jake said. Wingull let off a chirp as he flew high again and surveyed the arena. Noctowl’s wings suddenly became encased in a steel coating as he flew up after Wingull.

“Fire a water gun!” Jake said, but Wingull was delaying the release of the attack. Jake could see the creature keeping the water in his beak, waiting for the right time. As Noctowl got closer, wings sparkling brilliantly, Jake cried out for his Pokemon to do something.

With a sharp cry, Wingull opened his mouth and a large orb of water flew down at Noctowl. It smashed into the bird but instead of sloshing over him, Noctowl became encased in the shimmering orb of water, which was suspended in mid-air.

“That’s water pulse!” Gina said, who had looked up momentarily. Jake saw the water pulse fizzing and pulsating, while Noctowl was trapped inside, with no oxygen…

Just as he tried to do something, Jake saw the orb burst, causing Noctowl to fall to the ground in a deluge of water. Slamming into the hard arena ground, Noctowl was dripping wet and short of breath, gasping heavily. Wingull looked shocked at his sudden power.

“Fuck me,” Falkner said, running over to his Pokemon. “Jake, that was really cool.”

“Thanks,” Jake said meekly, as Falkner recalled his Pokemon. “Well done, Wingull.”

“He’s mastering more water moves,” Falkner said. “He’ll be ready to evolve soon.”

Jake beamed at his Pokemon, who roosted on his outstretched arm. As Falkner thumbed through his Pokeballs, wondering who to choose next, a man came up the stone staircase. Jake recognised him as Mark Beaumont, the man who had been trying to shut down Violet City Gym. He worked for the Johto League.

“What’s going on, Falkner?” he said. His tone was not aggressive, but it was clear that was the tone Mark wished to achieve. Jake saw him properly, and noticed one again he had failed to dress importantly.

“What?” Falkner asked.

“Is this an official gym match?” asked Mark. “I see nothing logged into the database.”

“It’s just a practice, we’re training,” Falkner said.

“And how many gym battles have you had this week?” Mark said. “Our target is 28 challengers a week. That’s four a day. You’re way below target.”

“Nobody’s coming!” Falkner protested.

“Maybe because you’re spending your time relaxing with your friends,” Mark said, shooting glances at both Jake and Gina. “Get on it, Falkner. And ask your friends to leave.”

“Hey,” Gina said, storming over. “Don’t be such a dick, alright? We’re not doing any harm.”

Mark gave Gina a glance, looking at her short denim shorts, her tight, cropped top and her wedge heels. He didn’t seem to approve, as he shook his head slowly.

“This is official business,” he said. “Keep your beaky nose out.”

He turned to Falkner.

“If your father could see what you’d done to this gym…he’d be ashamed,” he said, before turning and making his way out. Jake was horrified at Mark’s cold words with Falkner, but said nothing as the man left the gym.

After agreeing to leave, Jake and Gina made their way to downtown Violet, where they had lunch in the pretty Sprout Tower Gardens. Gina explained over sushi that Falkner was being repeatedly harassed by the Johto League official, and that Mark Beaumont was staying in Violet City to oversee the gym for the near future.

“Falkner still needs to grieve,” Gina said, although it was more of a muse than a statement. “He has no clarity over his father’s death, he doesn’t know how it happened.”

Jake felt his face redden; he had heard, after Medicham utilised her clairsentience, that Keadis was murdered in the National Park after going on the run from someone he met in Goldenrod. He didn’t know all the details, but he still felt implicated somehow.

“Are you okay?” Gina asked, fishing a prawn out of her bowl. “You seem a bit quiet.”

Jake looked into Gina’s eyes. They had grown very close over the last few days, could he trust her with this secret? What would Milo say if he shared this information?

“Jakey?”

“Look,” Jake said, taking a gulp. “You have to promise not to tell anybody…”

“What? Tell them what?”

“I…” he began, feeling something clogging his throat. “I know…a bit about Keadis’ death.”

Gina’s face fell; her seductive eyes dropped, saucer-like and void of expression.

“What?”

“I…We…Milo saw a vision,” Jake said.

“Oh, just a vision?” Gina said.

“It was real, like memories,” Jake said, struggling to make sense. “Medicham has this ability…she can pick up surface memories from objects. And we have this membership card, for the Cloyster Club, in Goldenrod. Remember?”

“I saw you that night,” Gina recalled.

“Right. We didn’t realise, but the card Milo won from the Bug Catching Contest was for membership to the exclusive Heiroglyph Palace, in the Cloyster Club. We think it belonged to Keadis. When Medicham touched the card, she started seeing the memories within it, and she pulled Milo into her vision.”

“What did she see?”

“Milo said…they were in the National Park. And Keadis was with someone, they were escaping from someone. Milo said it was really blurry, and hazy, and suddenly, Keadis was struck. He had a gaping wound across his stomach and collapsed.”

“Oh my god!” Gina said. “Jake! This is serious!”

“I didn’t see it, obviously,” Jake said. “So I’m not sure what it all means, but Milo felt really haunted by it. But we can’t tell Falkner! It sounds so suspicious, like we were involved.”

“You said Medicham could feel surface memories, well, I have a Starmie, and she can use psychic attacks,” Gina said. “Come on, we’ll try it at my flat. Do you have the membership card?”

“Yea,” Jake said, remembering Milo left it in their hotel.

“Let’s go then.”

*

They stopped off at the hotel only briefly. Jake saw the membership card on top of the television and pocketed it, before they left to walk to Gina’s flat, which she had been renting during her stay in Violet. It wasn’t in a particularly nice part of the city, but was situated above a quaint bakery.

Jake could smell bread as he walked up the stairs to Gina’s bedroom; the flat was small and had a cosy, warm heat from the bakery downstairs. As they walked along the hall, a Hispanic man shuffled past them; Gina explained this was her roommate, Rico.

“Gina, por que a los hombres mi casa?” he hissed. Gina ignored him and led Jake into her bedroom, which, given the small flat, was surprisingly large. It was not, however, very clean; clothes were strewn around the room and Jake saw an old pizza in the corner.

“Okay,” Gina said, releasing her Starmie. The purple star shimmered as she emerged into the middle of the room. Jake got out the membership card, handsome with its ornate scarlet and gold markings, and laid it down on the floor.

“Er, Medicham touched it,” Jake said, unsure how an inanimate Pokemon like Starmie would accomplish this. His thoughts were ruptured, however, as Starmie throbbed with energy and the card levitated off the ground.

“Try and read the memories of it,” Gina said, sitting cross-legged on her bed. The card floated across the room and pressed against Starmie’s core like a sticker; as the central gem cycled through bright colours, Jake saw Starmie cause the air around to ripple.

Many minutes passed in silence; Jake began to wonder if Starmie did not possess the ability to read surface memories. After all, it seemed a rare gift. However, in one quick moment, Starmie shuddered, and Jake felt a searing pain in his temple. Something flashed before his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Gina asked.

Jake’s eyes stung, but he tried to concentrate. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see any images of Keadis, but felt troubled as Starmie continue to explore the card with her telekinesis. He felt pangs of strong, violent emotions, but soon called the whole thing off. Evidently it wasn’t working.

Starmie dropped the card and Jake quickly snatched it back up. Gina apologised, seemingly disappointed they weren’t able to tap into the card like Medicham had done. Jake reminded her Medicham was a very competent psychic Pokemon, one of the strongest he had seen.

“So, you definitely didn’t see anything?” Gina said, for the tenth time.

“No,” Jake said. “Just…I just got a sore head. We should get some fresh air."”

Jake was rubbing his eyes with his hands while Gina was busy on her phone.

"Are you coming?" he asked.

"Yea, just finishing something," Gina said, sending a message.

I think I can help you find out who killed your father.

*

It was late at night, but Falkner was wide awake. There was a sharp rap at the door and he confirmed it was unlocked. Gina Gourmante entered the dark room meekly, shutting the door behind her. She looked at Falkner, who seemed to be concentrating on something.

“Explain yourself,” he said coldly.

“Jake showed me this card,” Gina said. “Apparently it belonged to your father. Milo’s Medicham had an ability…I can’t remember the name…she could pick up memories from objects.”

“It’s called clairsentience,” Falker said. “Incredibly powerful. You could use it on a door, and you’d see anyone who touched that door handle. You could see the man who made the door. You could see the tree, standing in a forest, unaware…”

“Well, Jake was sketchy on the details, because he didn’t see it himself,” Gina said. “But he seems to think there was information on your father.”

“Why didn’t they tell me?” Falkner snapped, getting up. He walked towards Gina and snatched the sleek card from her hand. “Why couldn’t they admit it? Maybe they were involved…”

“They weren’t,” Gina said. “Of course they weren’t, Falkner. They saw a memory, it messed with their heads. How do you express knowledge about something you can’t even see?”

“I’ll look myself,” Falkner said, clicking his fingers. From the darkness of the bare room, a Xatu flapped down to his trainer. Gina gasped; she didn’t know the Pokemon had been in the room. It had very beautiful markings; greens, whites and blacks, with red and yellow also. It kept its wings wrapped around its body and stared at the card.

“Look into this,” Falkner said to his Pokemon. “Scan the memories of this card, keep going until you can probe deeper and deeper. Connect with me, share it with me.”

Xatu nodded and his eyes, usually staring in different directions, focused on the card. Gina watched fearfully from the corner as Falkner gave a brief shudder. Xatu stared and stared, focusing. Suddenly Falkner felt a sharp pain in his head.

He was still in the room with Gina; his legs were crossed and he was on the floor, but he was also somewhere else. He could smell a dampness somewhere and a strong hit of hair products. Milo and Jake were before him, and the smell of vomit filled the air.

“What’s wrong?” Jake cried. Falkner felt jabs of fear and apprehension; he was scared, or perhaps the boys were?

“I saw him, I saw Keadis die,” Milo replied, throwing up in the toilet. "He was killed, Jake."

There was a curious squeezing sensation, before Falkner started to lose focus of the two boys. The hotel room melted away, and a strong smell of grass filled Falkner’s nostrils. He could also tell it was late at night.

Someone was panting heavily. Falkner could see a man crouched over in a small forest clearing, and his heart soared as he saw his father, alive, catching his breath. Seeing his father’s eyes, seeing his heart beating, catching a brief glimpse of the tattoo on his arm; it was overwhelming.

“Dad?” Falkner called out, but the words failed to materialise. He couldn’t speak.

“Are you okay, Keadis?” came a voice. Falkner turned to see a man approach Keadis.

“Barry,” Keadis sighed. “What are you doing here?”

“Following a scent,” the man replied. “What is going on?”

“I had to run,” Keadis said. “The meeting in Goldenrod…it was a trap.”

“A trap?”

“The Johto League summoned me here,” Keadis explained. “For a crisis talk. They explained about the upcoming Reclassification, and assured me I’d be safe in my position. But I threw them a curve ball. I told them I knew about Steven Stone funding the Johto League with money from his criminal organisations.”

“What did they say?” Barry asked, fearful.

“They told me my silence would be rewarded, they tried to bribe me, you know. But then they started mentioning Falkner, and Fuchsia City. I got the impression they have been keeping an eye on him.”

“Do you think Falkner is safe?”

“No. I’m going to make my way to Fuchsia City and protect my son. This gathered momentum so fast, Barry.”

“You brought too much attention to yourself!” he protested.

“People need to know the truth,” Keadis argued back. “I’ll get Falkner, and then I’ll begin my campaign. I need to tell Michael Mitchelson what I know, he needs to know Steven’s involvement.”

Keadis, peering through the overgrowth, got up and moved gingerly through the darkness. Barry nervously followed. The clearing was lit up by the moonlight, but there wasn’t a single person in sight. Keadis walked along a few more feet before something whipped out from beneath him; his legs were struck and he collapsed to the ground.

“Keadis!” Barry cried, as something connected with his head. Barry felt to his knees as Keadis got to his feet; a large, ugly flytrap was standing before him, staring at him with cold, emotionless eyes. The Victreebel had sharp leaves, long fangs and sap drizzling from its lip.

Barry flittered in and out of consciousness as Keadis stared up at the Pokemon. Half-hidden by a nearby oak tree, a woman watched the scene unfold. Victreebel stood there, motionless, until the woman’s whisper rang out across the clearing.

“Kill him.”

One of the plant’s thick leaves was slashed across Keadis’ stomach. He screamed and fell onto his back as blood erupted from the long wound stretching across his stomach. Keadis cried out, yelled, screamed as his fingertips touched the hot, runny blood.

Barry blinked furiously and came to his senses, seeing his friend so hurt. The Victreebel and the woman in white had both disappeared, but Barry cradled his friend.

“They knew I was here,” Keadis gasped.

“How?”

“Steven Stone always knows…” whispered Keadis. It was at this point that Falkner’s distress at witnessing the scene began to merge into the scene he witnessed. A bloodied Gina Gourmante flickered among the scene, while Falkner could see something that looked distinctly like Milo Mitchelson’s arm.

Screaming so loud the whole building could hear, Falkner backed away from the card as if it were about to administer a fatal bite. Pressed against the wall, he erupted into sobs as Gina watched on, horrified. Xatu blinked momentarily as the card lay on the ground.

“W-What happened?” Gina said; her tone made it sound like she had asked Falkner this several times.

“I saw him die,” Falkner wept, shouting. “I saw him!”

Gina looked at him, unsure what to do. Falkner moaned as he sobbed into his arms, overcome with grief. Had he imagined that was how his father would die, slaughtered by a vicious plant Pokemon? Falkner wondered who Barry was, before things started to make sense.

“Barry,” he said. “Barry Bramble.”

“What?”

“He’s a man, an author, he writes about Bug Pokemon, but he lives as a hermit in the National Park…I’ve met him, maybe twice. That was the man in the vision, but he was younger, cleaner looking. Oh my god, Gina…Gina I need to find him.”

“Please just sleep on it!” Gina said, getting up to stop Falkner. But he grabbed his overcoat and disappeared from the room, leaving Gina alone in his house with just the ominous Xatu for company.





Notes
-So this little snippet explains a bit more about Clairsentience. Some Pokemon can learn it, some can't. Starmie, being a bit emotionless, finds it harder.

-Incidentally, I think Xatu's Clairsentience is stronger than Medichams, and I think Xatu has used it several times before. Falkner has trained it well under a powerful psychic trainer.

-I also think he has tried using the power on a lot of objects but it has proved useless in learning information.

-Do you see how Clairsentience is only useful with a related object?

-I think Gina stole the card from Jake and didn't tell him. Why did she tell Falkner? Well, Gina can't keep her mouth shut. And I think she always tries to provide for people (even if its through erotic dancing) just so that she feels needed.

-Because Xatu is more competent, it was able to unearth more detail than Medi did, so we were able to see a clearer picture of what happened.

-As for poor Barry Brambles, I think he was shocked, horrified and traumatized to near-madness. When Milo met him, he weaved a tale about leaving his wife and living among the bugs. It was all fabricated; when Keadis was murdered, Barry Brambles was never the same.

-Falkner's next steps? Find Barry and identify the white-coated woman who killed Keadis.

-As for the link to Mitchelson Enterprises...while Michael has been focusing on the robberies and recovering stolen Pokemon, I think Keadis unearthed stuff about Steven Stone and pursued that thread until he learned the Johto League was funded by a lot of the criminal profits.

-If the two had met, they may have been able to put their heads together much sooner.



Next time...
Steven Stone has shown his true colours to Michael Mitchelson and unveiled the next part of his planned crimes in Goldenrod City. When Whitney and Eusine battle at the Johto League's Exhibition Match, a chance to promote the new Reclassified league, Steven plans on storming the event and robbing the Gym Leaders.

But, Steven has people keeping an eye on Michael's family. If he interferes in any form, Steven will ensure his family are killed.

After hearing of the plot from Jasmine, Morty is determined not to let the organisation succeed, and travels to Goldenrod to combat it. Michael enlists the help of Lorelei to prevent Morty from interfering, and a game of cat and mouse ensues.




This is the final part of the Golden Arc, and will be out next. Then the next chapter of Show-Off. I hope you're excited, as this is going to be quite exciting...!

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

I liked the training scene in Violet Gym, it was just a 'normal' feeling. I like that in fics when you really feel like pokemon is a daily, global thing, connected to all aspects of a routine day. Looking forward to Peliper

The plot thickens and is really going to somewhat of a confrontation, so I'm pretty siked.

Pondering on the murder too! I like Victreebel!

Xatu would be able to do a much stronger clairsentience since it's a born time-manipulator anyway. Pokedex tells us that hone eye looks to the past and the other to the future, so it's a crazy, mysterious but badass pokemon >D

Falker is going to do some silly things I think.

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Oh yes, Pellipper will be cool Jake gets new additions to his team soon, FYI, an early draft of the Azalea arc involved Jake and Milo leaving Ditto behind when they fled from Oscar. Ditto transformed into a large boulder within Azalea Chambers to ensure Oscar couldn't follow them...

...but after you see Violet City contest, I think you'll understand why I changed it XD

Agreed with Xatu. However, I think a degree of emotion is required; empathy, helping to connect the Pokemon with the trainer. This is Medicham's strength; she has good psychic abilities and an incredibly strong bond with Milo, which helps her use clairsentience.

Falkner is going to be something of a sleuth - I think you'll like where it's going!

The next Golden Arc is probably going to either be (a) 2 parts of (b) huge (let me know what you'd prefer!) as it involves Morty trying to prevent the Exhibition Match, which Steven Stone tries to invade. Michael dispatches Lorelei to stop Morty, and we will see some good old gym battling.

Quite an epic end to the Golden Arc!




Okay guys, just writing the next part in the Golden Arc. Needs to happen before Chapter 26 for plot purposes, you see, otherwise I would have posted that next. It will make sense XD.

Furthermore, those interested in Luna and her character will be pleased that I've been developing her and am quite excited for her role in future installments.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

If it were up to me I'd wait and hope on a big one

[Sike Saner]

All I could think as Mia was snapping at Edgar was, Way to bite the hand that feeds, sunshine.

Her battle against Milo was pretty riveting. And the substitute there near the end was quite the surprise.

And there's the answer of just what sort of a thing it was that killed Keadis. For some reason, the possibility of it having been a victreebel never occurred to me, so that was also a neat surprise.

Re: the Golden Arc finale: I'd be fine with either, honestly, although I will say that there is a little something appealingly epic about the notion of it ending in one last big installment.

Highlights and et cetera:

He recalled them both into their balls and tucked them away as Nanette strode along happily. Her hair had been forced into two pigtails, causing the skin around her forehead to tighten and give her an alarming look.

Oh God, I pictured this--and of course my mind had to go and exaggerate the image on top of that--and... yeah. XD

Milo saw a scary looking Glalie floating effortlessly in the air; its chunky, carved body was oddly haunting, and Milo surmised that the trainer must have come from far away - Glalie would probably hate these warm climes.

Yay, a glalie. :D

I’ve pee’d like twice.

...Gee, thanks for enlightening us, Nanette. XD;

“Finally, adding some ‘wow’ to the contest,” said the MC. “A former Grand Festival champion, I give you…Meredith Mitchelson!”

Oh yes. That definitely qualifies as an "oh snap" moment.

One man had his Mr Mime run around the arena waving his hands. Nobody looked impressed, but Milo knew Mr Mime were able to solidify air with their hands, and knew the trainer had a plan.

Indeed, when Mr Mime stopped, the judges were shocked; the clown was seemingly standing in mid-air, waving. He gave a final wave of his hands and unleashed a psywave into the solid air walls he was standing on; each shield illuminated with rainbow colours of pink, sherbet yellow and stem green, and the crowd finally saw what Mr Mime created.

He stood atop a wonderful, gleaming castle, made entirely from solidified air and lit up with the psywave attack. The audience began applauding wildly as Mr Mime took a bow and the trainer smirked from the side of the stage.

Well, that was cool. :D

Thick globules of sludge were fired in all directions, even hitting Edgar in the face.

...XD

At the 2006 Grand Festival a trainer tried evolving her Eevee into a Flareon for an appeal. But the evolution went wrong; Eevee was too stressed and young to undertake the evolution. She turned a darker shade and grew slightly, but then started bleeding everywhere. It was disgusting.

D: Ouch.

But what would his mother say? Milo looked at Meredith.

“Hello son,” she said, smiling. “First of all, tuck in your shirt.”

...Pfffffffhahahaha... XD

Finally, she was revealed. Milo looked to see the skinny, iced Pokemon hovering in mid-air, appendages forming from her head as she directed the fog to create a thin layer around the floor.

And yay, a froslass. :D

Croconaw grinned happily and sunk his teeth into Flygon’s foot; he sent searing cold ice crystals through the creature’s foot and did not let go, chuckling to himself as he concentrated harder and harder.

I like Croconaw's personality. :)

“So what did you do,” Mia asked lazily, still watching the screen.

“I waited until it was fast asleep,” Nanette began, swelling with dark pride. “I picked it up and placed it in the ground. Poliwag need moisture, all the time. Usually sleep in a shallow bath. I filled the ground with dirt and soil. Bye Poliwoggle.”

Mia’s eyes widened as she heard the end of the story. Nanette’s eyes lit up with a dark spark; she looked so happy just thinking about the memory of burying her mother’s favourite Pokemon alive. It filled a hunger the girl couldn’t tame with sugary snacks.

“…Are you serious?” Mia asked.

“Deadly,” came her reply.

D: Holy shit...

“Oh, fine,” Nanette mused, her finger firmly lodged up her nose.

...Lovely. XD

“Okay, Medicham, use a fire punch,” Milo began. “But then use a psychic. Wrap the flames around you like we did in Goldenrod; cauterise your wounds.”

Medicham nodded, summoning the flames in her palms and then manipulating them with her PSI powers. They formed into a snaking tendril that span around the monkey like a flaming tyre, before growing into a cocoon shape. While the heat caused Medicham’s cuts to heal up, she fired a swift attack into the sky from within her fiery cocoon; flaming stars rocketed into the sky and exploded, entertaining the crowd.

As Medicham did this, Gallade watched keenly, his eyes focused on the flames. Croconaw was using metal claw and performing moves for the audience, entertaining them.

“Mimic!” Mia yelled.

“No!” Milo shouted, as Gallade’s free blade began to burst into flame.

He span on the spot, again and again, the red-hot blade swathed in fire as he swirled around and melted the ice on his free arm. Mia cackled in triumph as Gallade mimicked the fire punch, freeing himself from the ice.

Oh snap again!

“Fire punch! Spin!” Mia ordered. Gardevoir’s appendages burst into flames and as he span, a flaming circle surrounded him. Milo had anticipated this, however, and ordered Medicham to manipulate the fire with a psychic attack.

She pulled it towards her, grasping her fingers and flicking her wrist; the flames snaked across the arena, curling up into the air and exploding into a big shower of bright embers. The audience applauded as Medicham practiced yoga positions while she was illuminated by the stolen fire.

That was cool. :)

Emerging inches from Gallade, Medicham saw Gallade stumble in confusion and swung a punch into his back. The connecting punch threw Gallade off balance and he hit the ground hard. However, as he hit the ground, Gallade simply shattered. Milo gasped as the white creature blasted into millions of pieces before them.

He had seen this technique used before, in the Johto league. It was substitute.

OH FREAKING SNAP.

Jake could smell bread as he walked up the stairs to Gina’s bedroom; the flat was small and had a cosy, warm heat from the bakery downstairs.

That sounds awesome. :)

It was not, however, very clean; clothes were strewn around the room and Jake saw an old pizza in the corner.

...Ew. XD

[Chris 2.1]

I think it's going to be pretty epic.

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: Epic reply! Loved these in TPML; it's great to see what stands out to you.

I'm glad you liked the battle between Milo and Mia - maybe people have a different view of Mia after she controlled her Pokemon so effortlessly?

As for Nanette, the layers are peeling away, but this isn't like the Oscar plot. Nanette is a complex character, but I don't think she's evil. She does have an agenda, but then, who doesn't? I suppose hers might just be a bit...oh, extreme.

Gina's flat was inspired by a house I used to live in, situated above a bakery. Quite an amazing smell every morning, let me tell you

Think the final of the Golden Arc will be rather big and epic then. I have to remind you that it isn't the last we see of the characters, but the current plot is tied up and put to one side so we can carry on with newer, emerging stories.

[Chris 2.1]

Previously...
-Jasmine was working for Michael Mitchelson to help recover Pokemon that had been stolen
-To stop Adam Anderson stealing Jake's Pichu, Jasmine killed him, using her Magneton to rip his fillings out through his skull
-Michael later recruited Morty to help him
-Jasmine and Morty worked on recovering Pokemon, until Morty saw Jasmine shooting Oscar in a mission.
-Jasmine worked alone and with Lorelei, Michael's deranged special agent, on various missions
-Soon, Steven Stone, a financier of the thefts, threatened to kill Michael's family if he continued to interfere. Michael agreed not to try and prevent the thefts at the upcoming Exhibition Match.
-Jasmine, also in danger, was sent to her parents farm, where she found Morty had been working.
-Together, they killed Largo LeGrand, who attacked them.

The Golden Arc
Seven
Golden Dream

Goldenrod was always a busy city; the capital of Johto and home to the region’s vast media network, transport hub and, as the trendiest city around, it was the most exciting place to be. This was especially true today, as the Goldenrod Gym was holding an Exhibition Match where it invited Eusine, the new leader of Cianwood Gym, to compete against Whitney for a public spectacle.

The surge of interest in gym battles and the Pokemon league itself was incredible. Trainers who had won their Speed Badge from Goldenrod found themselves lingering to see the high-profile match, maybe so they could witness the skills of Eusine, who they may battle later. Celebrities were also in attendance.

Far away, at MooMoo Farm, Morty and Jasmine woke after a passionate night together. Jasmine had, naturally, told Morty everything about the match - how Steven Stone was planning to raid the event and steal Pokemon, but also that he had men positioned to kill Michael’s family if he tried to intervene.

“It’s just horrible,” Jasmine said, putting her earrings in. “Michael had to stop his fight against the thefts. Steven’s PorygonZ can infiltrate computers, telephones, anything mechanical. It can get anywhere.”

“Look,” Morty said, buttoning a shirt. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I want to do something.”

“But you can’t!” Jasmine said. “Michael…”

“You said Steven will act if the match is disrupted or the thefts are prevented,” Morty told her. “But I can do more than that, I know it. I think I can convince Whitney not to turn up to the exhibition, but I’ll have to act fast.”

“How do you think that will work?” Jasmine said, sounding sceptical.

“I know her, we go way back,” Morty said. “I’ll visit Michael and speak to him, maybe we can form a plan. We need to act fast, before she goes to the gym for the match.”

“You’ll be ratted out, Steven Stone isn’t stupid,” Jasmine said. “Please, Morty, we have to let this wash over.”

“We can’t!” Morty said. “The Exhibition Match is broadcast across Johto. Steven’s plan to raid the match will be broadcast to the whole region, like a viral video. Everyone will see the fear and panic and it will make people more scared than they have ever been. We can’t let that happen!”

“I know it’s bad,” Jasmine began, but she stopped when she saw Morty leave the room. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Goldenrod,” Morty said stubbornly. “I chickened out of this thing when I saw you shoot Oscar, but I know what I have to do. I can’t sit on the sidelines and see all this happen around me, Jasmine. I’m going to see Michael.”

“Don’t!” Jasmine cried. “Put a foot wrong, and lives could be lost!”

“I won’t put a foot wrong,” Morty told her. “You have to trust me.”

“I…it’s not that I don’t,” Jasmine said. She was about to tell Morty to be careful when he disappeared with a pop. Getting up, she looked into the hallway, but Morty was nowhere to be found.

*

Morty felt, when teleporting, that senses from his previous location melded with those of his new ones. Sometimes smells, feelings or temperatures would linger as he shifted. In this instance, however, as the scent of Jasmine’s sweet perfume faded, Morty felt a sharp, intense pain fill every fibre of his body. His head hit something and he cried out in pain as darkness filled every space around him. What was going on?

A moment later, a foot jabbed under his body and pushed him over. Morty opened his eyes and looked around; he was staring at the high ceiling of a familiar office, and Michael Mitchelson stared down at him. Morty got to his feet, his head spinning.

“Wh-what happened?” he asked.

“You tried teleporting into my office,” Michael explained, looking crossly at Morty. “Recently I installed a new security system to stop people doing such a thing.”

“Well it fucking hurt,” Morty said.

“Good,” Michael replied crisply. “It’s obviously working. What are you doing here?”

“I came because I heard about the Exhibition Match,” Morty said. “We need to do something to stop it going ahead!”

“We can’t do anything, you’re far too late,” Michael sighed. “I assume Jasmine told you everything? Then you’ll know my wife and children are being targeted by Steven Stone. If they don’t succeed in their plan to raid the match, my family could be killed.”

“I know, but -”

“You don’t know,” Michael interrupted. “Any faults, any slips, and Steven will blame me, even if I sit in my office all afternoon. Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to think that by the end of the day I could be alone in the world? My family could all be dead, murdered, and I’m powerless to stop it.”

Morty listened to Michael, who looked close to tears. He felt numb, but he wasn’t sure if it was raw emotion of the electric shock that had surged into his body. He had never seen Mr Mitchelson look so lost.

“I understand,” Morty began. “But…we can make it so they don’t blame you.”

“You can’t.”

“I can!”

“Why are you being so persistent,” Michael asked. “Really. Why?”

“I want to help,” Morty said.

“You can help by staying still and doing what you’re told,” Michael told him, his voice getting louder. Morty’s insistence was incredibly frustrating.

“Let me just try and talk to Whitney,” Morty said. “I’ll get her to -

“WILL YOU SIT DOWN!” Michael screamed. “Listen to me! You cannot change what has been set in place, Mortimer! You are too late, it is the morning of the exhibition! If you were a reliable man, perhaps we could have avoided this. But you disappeared when things got serious, and things have come to a head now. We must sit and let things play out.”

“I won’t,” Morty said, turning his nose up. Gengar materialised at his side and he gripped the creatures gnarled claw. “Thank me later.”

Morty disappeared with another pop, causing Michael to stand up and let out an almighty roar. How could the young man be so inconsiderate, so risky and dangerous? He knew lives were at risk, yet he continued to endanger them. Michael did not want to be seen out in Goldenrod; he knew Steven was monitoring his surveillance to make sure he didn’t intervene. Instead, he called for Lorelei.

“You wanted to see me?” Lorelei said, striding into the office.

“Morty has gone to Whitney’s apartment,” Michael said. “He is trying to persuade her not to turn up to the Exhibition Match…please, go after him and make sure he is kept quiet.”

“Not a problem,” she said, tying her red hair back.

“And Lorelei?” Michael said, as she got to the door. “Use force if you need it.”

Lorelei nodded and disappeared from Michael’s office. She got her phone out from her pocket and examined it; Michael had emailed her with the coordinates of Whitney Blanc’s apartment so she could make her way there. Whitney seemed to live in a luxurious housing complex in the nice end of Goldenrod.

Opening her locker, Lorelei withdrew her Pokeballs and stowed some in her pockets. One, however, which was designed like a shimmering blue gemstone, slid onto her finger like a chunky ring. This was a special ‘donut’ Pokeball design Lorelei had received as a gift, with the Pokeball clasp made of pearl.

This was a special Pokemon; one Lorelei knew she would need to stop Morty in his tracks. Next, Lorelei flicked her hair back, adjusted her spectacles, and headed out onto the streets.

*

Morty re-appeared in the streets of Goldenrod city with Gengar at his side. He wasn’t quite sure where Whitney lived, although he had a vague idea, having only really met Whitney at press events or conferences. The two had been in contact for a number of years, stemming from when they were both gym leaders.

Looking at his watch, Morty realised he didn’t have long to speak with Whitney. Soon, she would be making her way to the Gym to do press, interviews and to plan the match. Thinking he knew where he was going, Morty dashed along the street towards the apartment block.

Her apartment was a sleek, square building, comprised of glass walls and thick wooden beams. Whitney seemed to have very modern tastes when it came to lifestyle. Morty pressed his hand to his temple to help him concentrate. A year ago, he was chatting to Whitney at a glamorous event. Whitney mentioned her apartment number, because it was the same number as…as…

The age she became a gym leader.

But what age was that? As Gengar floated in the air, examining the area, Morty wished he had a Pokemon who could read surface memories. It was a rare gift, developed only by the finest, most experienced psychics. In fact, hadn’t Morty read something just last week about clairsentience? In 2006 there had only been…

“Nineteen!” he cried. “Nineteen reported cases.”

He paused.

“She was nineteen when she became a gym leader!”

Yes, that was right. But why had he been thinking about that, why was that important? Morty looked up at the apartment number 19 and smiled.

“Yes! That’s where she lives!”

Morty ran up the stairs towards Whitney’s apartment. He felt so happy he had figured it out for himself, and took a left turn as he passed apartment 15. Gengar was flying alongside Morty like a grim fairy, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear.

The next question was how to approach this? Would Morty need to call on Gengar’s phasing abilities? Morty asked Gengar to turn invisible, so as not to scare Whitney, and decided that a sensitive approach would be best. He got to number 19 and took a deep breath.

He rapped three times on the door.

“Coming!”

Morty blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. He wished Jasmine were here; she was so good at talking and saying clever things, he was always getting his words mixed up. The door opened, and a red-haired lady appeared with curlers in her hair. She had round spectacles, and looked unimpressed.

“Yes?”

“I - er - Hi! That is, hey…erm, I wanted to see Whitney.”

“A lot of people want to see Whitney, she’s a very popular girl,” the woman said. “What are you, a fan of Expose? You want an autograph?”

“What!” Morty said. “No, that TV show sucks. I’m Morty, I used to run the Ecruteak Gym. I want to speak to Whitney about something really, really important.”

The lady raised her eyebrows.

“I didn’t recognise you,” she said coolly. “You don’t suit your hair long. I’m Mary, DJ Mary.”

“Oh, right,” Morty said. “Yea, your voice sounded kind of familiar…”

“I’m sure,” she said. Whitney appeared behind Mary and beamed at the sight of him.

“Morty!” she said. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

Morty took an apprehensive, perhaps over-dramatic look around him to check nobody was around, before answering Whitney’s question.

“I need to come inside, it’s really serious,” he said. Mary looked uninterested, but Whitney saw something her partner did not; she nodded, and invited Morty inside. He shut the door behind him, moments before Lorelei strode purposefully along the street.

“No sign of him,” she said, holding a compact mirror to her face. The mirror was actually a small screen, showing Michael Mitchelson at his desk. “Do you think he’s inside?”

“He might not know where she is, but he can teleport,” Michael said. “I’m not sure, Lorelei. Go and check, if you can. She’s apartment 19.”

“So what’s wrong?” Whitney asked, inviting Morty into the living room. Mary watched the two from afar, making a cup of tea. “We’re kind of busy today, Morty…”

“I came here to warn you,” he said. “I have it on very good authority that something bad is going to happen at the Exhibition Match today.”

“What kind of something?” Mary snapped.

“Something to me?” Whitney asked, fearful.

“I don’t know,” Morty said. “Well, I do. We think the people behind the thefts in Goldenrod City are planning to storm the Exhibition Match today. To steal.”

Whitney let out a cry and covered her mouth.

“How do you know this? And who is ‘we’?” asked Mary.

“I work for…” Morty began. He paused for a minute, unsure what his story was when he talked to people. When he was in Azalea with Jasmine, he claimed to be from the Pokemon League, but that was to recover a stolen Pokemon - that made sense. But now, investigating a breach of security?

“You’re with Jasmine, aren’t you?” Whitney asked. “She spoke to me, a while ago now. Said she was working for a ‘task force’ investigating the thefts. She tried to recruit me, saying my involvement would be good, since I’m on TV and stuff…but I found it all a bit much.”

“I’m with her,” Morty confirmed. “We all work sort of…secluded from one another though. So we never know too much in case we’re compromised.”

That sounds good, he thought to himself.

“We think the company want to use the TV coverage of the match to spread fear in Johto,” said Morty in a dark tone. “And if they steal from a gym leader, even better.”

“Who are these people?” Mary asked, disgusted.

“There are different factions, funded by the same large companies,” Morty said. “We think.”

“How much risk to you think Whitney is at?” Mary asked. For someone looking so disinterested in the issue, Mary was asking a lot of questions. Morty just shook his head.

“We don’t know,” he said.

“Well, are you going to hire protection? Alert the police?” Whitney asked.

“There’s a problem with that,” Morty explained. “We can’t disrupt the match, or intercept the people planning that. The main reason is we don’t know who the people are, or what they look like. But more importantly, we’ve been receiving death threats. Our families lives are at risk if we try and stop them from disrupting the match.”

“Excuse me?” Mary said.

“So what you’re saying is, there’s a chance I’m going to be attacked today,” Whitney said. “But you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“Our hands are tied, but I have a solution,” Morty said. “Don’t turn up to the exhibition match. Call in sick.”

Whitney and Mary shared a nervous look; the cup of tea was no longer steaming, now lukewarm and growing colder. Whitney, who was already dressed in for the match (all in white, from a polo shirt, to tailored shorts to white plimsolls with knee-length socks) had her new gym badge pinned to her chest. Subconsciously, her fingers fiddled with the catch on the badge, unhooking it slightly.

“This is insane,” Mary said, flat out. “Morty, you just came here with this, this…”

“Mary,” Whitney began.

“No, I think it’s bullshit,” Mary said. “Are you seriously telling me nobody else knows this? Nobody has tried to contact us, help us, before today? We have to be at the Gym in an hour! I…I don’t like this at all.”

“I don’t, either,” Whitney admitted.

“He’s trying to make money out of us,” Mary said, out of nowhere. “Morty, I’ve never heard of that employer you claim to work for…I think you have a bet going on the outcome of the match.”

“Excuse me?” Morty said.

“That’s it, you have money on Eusine winning. Or maybe Whitney losing. And you realised the odds are against you, so you came here to try and make sure Whit didn’t turn up.”

Morty looked at Mary, who seemed content with her deduction. Morty couldn’t understand how she came to this conclusion, and why his suggestion - the logical one - failed to impact their decision. He had come here to warn them, to ward them off, but instead Mary was suggesting he had his own agenda.

“I…do you really think he’s trying to make money?” Whitney asked Mary.

“He only mentioned Jasmine after you prompted it,” Mary said. “If Morty really worked with Jasmine, if he knew she had already met you, he would have mentioned it to gain your trust. Nice try, Morty.”

“What?” Morty said. “Did you not hear me? This is serious!”

“Sorry, but you can’t just break our door down and expect us to change our plans,” Whitney said, although she spoke in a hushed tone. “Morty…this doesn’t make sense.”

“You have to understand how serious this is,” Morty said, but Mary made it clear he was to leave. Despite his protests, and attempts to appeal to Whitney, who he seemed to be making more of a case with, Morty was ushered through the house by her stubborn girlfriend.

“You do realise she’s in danger?” Morty said coldly to the girl, as she opened the front door.

“Once I slam the door, slightly less so,” Mary replied, equally crisp, as she pushed Morty outside.

He cursed loudly as Mary disappeared beneath a thick slam. Fuck. The whole plan of keeping Whitney away had failed; Morty thought about phasing back into the house, but didn’t want to cause a struggle or have a fight erupt. Looking at his watch, he realised he had twenty minutes.

Suddenly, as if a grim light bulb was turned on in his head, something occurred to Morty. He saw an image of Whitney falling down a set of stairs, her leg breaking…well, she’d need to go to the hospital, and people fall all the time. It wouldn’t stir suspicion if she hurt herself…she was in a hurry…

Snap out of it, he told himself. Persuading himself to trip Whitney down a flight of stairs? These were dark thoughts; Morty felt ashamed as he walked down the stairs to street level, disgusted that he had considered hurting someone to further his agenda.

Though, it would help in the long run, wouldn’t it? Would hurting one person be justified if it prevented the thefts? Steven Stone couldn’t assume Mr Mitchelson hurt somebody to throw him off…Michael was too nice, and he wouldn’t agree to it.

As Morty let out a sigh, he wrapped his arms around his body; it felt cold this morning, even though the weather has been very pleasant when he left MooMoo Farm. What to do now? He considered cloaking and going to the Gym, observing the match from afar. Maybe he could identify the thieves and pursue them at a later date…

Suddenly, there was a loud bang. Looking up to the skies, Morty saw a shower of sharp spikes arch down towards him. He let out a cry and ran to the far wall, pressing himself against it as the thick, javelin-sized spikes smashed into the ground, shattering.

“What the fuck?” he gasped, looking around. Seconds later, he felt a plunging feeling in his stomach; he rose off the ground slowly and his entire body began to tingle uncomfortably. Next, the brick wall ahead seemed to lurch at him - an unseen force pinned Morty against the lip of the alleyway.

“HELP!” Morty shouted. A slim lady walked towards him; she had berry-red hair tied back and red spectacles, smiling as she neared. While the initial appearance of someone was a delight for Morty, he was not stupid, and realised she was responsible for pinning him here.

“Hey,” he snapped. “What are you doing?”

“You need to stop running around and ruining things,” she said, as if telling a child not to steal. Morty’s muscles gave sharp stings of pain as he lay helpless against the brick wall. His head and neck were limber; the Pokemon applying the psychic attack to keep him in place was obviously targeting his core muscles.

A Slowbro waddled over to the woman, who acknowledged it without looking in its direction.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Of course not,” she said. “My name is Lorelei. Mr Mitchelson sent me here to stop you ruining the Exhibition Match. Your interfering could get someone killed.”

“I don’t care what you say,” said Morty in a strained voice. He was trying to flex his muscles but it was useless.

“You should,” Lorelei said airily. “Michael is a wise person.”

Morty pulled an ugly, sour face as he stared at Lorelei. She was looking at Morty as if studying a mildly fascinating oil painting, tilting her head left and right.

“You work for him?” Morty asked. “L-Like Jasmine?”

“He has many of us,” Lorelei replied. “We recover Pokemon, we track registered criminals. An associate of mine has been working in Kanto for five months.”

“Why didn’t I know about you?”

“Because you’re new,” Lorelei said, before adding, “Sweetheart.

“Jasmine’s been fully trained, she’s an agent. You were only learning when you disappeared. Michael roped me in to work with Jasmine for a bit.”

“How many more are there?” Morty said, still inquisitive.

“Even I don’t know that,” she said. “But I’ll tell you this -

Before she finished her sentence, something menacing smashed into Slowbro and hurtled him along the alleyway. As Lorelei cried out in shock, Morty fell to his knees, the telekinesis wearing off with Slowbro‘s distractedness. He felt a searing pain and his kneecaps stung. Looking, Morty could see Gengar materialising next to Slowbro, his large red eyes looming.

“Oh!” Lorelei cried. “You fight dirty!”

“No worse than pinning me against the wall!” Morty yelled. Gengar swept through the air, a fist crackling with dark energy. Slowbro got back up, scowling, but was slugged across the jaw a second time. Morty decided to make a run for it.

“Gengar, fix him in place with mean look!” he ordered. As he turned, Slowbro leapt at him and managed to grab both his wrists. Morty screamed as Slowbro pinned him down, sending a horrible freezing sensation through his wrists.

Seconds later, Gengar let out a high shriek and clapped his hands together with an almighty bang. Slowbro flew off Morty, tossed into the wall like a rag doll as Morty got to his feet. His wrists ached, but he knew not to try fighting Lorelei - she had a coolness radiating from her that suggested she was more than capable of fighting him.

Morty ran as fast as he could down the alleyway, not daring to look back. He didn’t sense Lorelei or Slowbro were following him, but the warm rush sweeping alongside him - Gengar in flight - made him feel less scared.

Was he wise to trust this woman? It didn’t seem likely, and even if she was working for Michael, she came here to apprehend him, which made her an enemy. As he passed Candour Street, Morty realised he needed to make his way to the gym - he could maybe intercept Whitney’s vehicle.

Suddenly, an intense pain filled Morty and he screwed his eyes shut as he dropped to his knees. An ice-cold pain drowned his body; it emanated from his wrists, where Slowbro had grabbed him. Staring down, Morty could see two thick, icy cuffs frozen around his wrists; they were very painful.

Fighting back tears, Morty got to his feet and ran again, but with each step he felt another pain flooding his senses. Eventually, he staggered into the side of a wall, gasping and examining the large chunks of ice. They felt so smooth and clean-cut, like the finest glass, but they were cold, so cold to the touch. Slowbro had used an attack to freeze his wrists like this, but why was the pain so severe?

“It’s my thing,” came Lorelei’s voice, as she walked along the alley. “My signature move. Slowbro is special, far more special than any other of its species, because it trained with my ice Pokemon, and developed ice proficiency far better than its signature water moves. Coupled with psychic attacks, it became a formidable ally of my Jynx.

“The Voodo Ice Cuffs latch a diamond-tough icy sheen around the enemy, and using his intense mental control, Slowbro can hurt you no matter how far you run. When he touches you, he creates a mental connection. And this ice won’t melt easily, either.”

Horrified at what Lorelei did to him, Morty stared at the woman as she effortlessly gripped him by his upper arm and led him down the alleyway. The pain in his wrists - which seemed to run like water up his arms and to his head - was mentally draining.

“W-Where are you taking me,” Morty murmured, his focus slipping.

“Back to Mr Mitchelson,” Lorelei said simply.

Morty wasn’t sure what happened next. He heard a scream as the pain in his wrists throbbed powerfully; a sharp pain hit his head, but he didn’t understand if he had been hit, or if the pain Slowbro administered was seeping to his head.

Next, a sinking feeling in his stomach, and Morty’s feet felt light and floppy. Opening his eyes, he could see Gengar gripping him tightly, soaring up into the sky. Lorelei lay on the street below, knocked out, while Slowbro was aiming an ice beam at them.

He could sense what Gengar was doing, and knew they were cloaked. Gengar swept along the sky and avoided the ice beam, taking his trainer to Goldenrod City Gym. The large building, once a cathedral, looked splendid among the modern buildings in the large city, and as Gengar approached the bell tower, he phased effortlessly among the brick, emerging in the small, cold room.

Laying his trainer down, Gengar thought for a moment about what exactly to do. Morty had wanted to get to the gym, which he had helped achieve, but what did he need to do now? Looking at his trainer, who groaned with pain as the voodo ice cuffs took full effect, Gengar walked to the stained glass window, and saw an expensive car pull up to the building.

“We’re too late,” Morty gasped. “The match is about to start.”

Meanwhile, Whitney and Eusine were standing on the arena as the Chief Deputy Head Events Coordinator of the Associate Co-Committee to the Johto League, a small and bespectacled man named Orson Leather, announced a few minute details.

Eusine, decked in a flamboyant purple cloak, silver waistcoat and shimmering red tie, seemed confident, smiling at Whitney as Orson Leather delivered his speech. She was thinking about Morty’s words - that something in the Gym Match was about to go horribly wrong.

*

“What’s wrong, Lorelei?” Michael asked, answering his phone.

“Morty escaped,” she said. “I did the voodoo ice cuffs, but he got away. I keep getting Slowbro to apply pressure, so I know he’s in pain…”

“Well, Slowbro can locate Morty using the cuffs,” Michael told her. “Where is he?”

“Goldenrod Gym,” she replied. “I can’t go barging in there. He’s hidden there because he knows I can’t attack him in front of everyone, and it means he can snoop on the Gym Match.”

“Go there,” Michael said. “Be my eyes. Please, Lorelei, we can’t let this go wrong.”

*

Whitney released her Miltank first, watching as it formed onto the arena. This was her favourite Pokemon; strong, sturdy, but wickedly fast. During her time as a normal-type Gym Leader, this was her weapon, her real threat. Unfortunately, since the Reclassification, she had been assigned more speed-based Pokemon to fit in with the theme of her gym.

Luckily, the trusted cow stayed on her roster, and Whitney felt more confident sending out one of her oldest Pokemon. Whitney watched as Eusine threw a Pokeball out onto the arena and released his first Pokemon; it was a Wheezing. The large, gaseous Pokemon bobbed in mid-air, pulling a wretched face.

Someone shouted, and the match had begun. Ordering the first attack. Whitney commanded Miltank to use a rollout. Leaping up, the cow tucked her limbs in and sped along the arena, picking up speed. Whitney watched, her Pokemon a blur, just like her mind.

Miltank flew up, but Weezing swept out the way at the last minute. As Miltank landed, bearing her fists and watching the foe with suspicion, Whitney scanned the crowd. Who among them was planning to ruin this event, and when were they going to do so? She saw Mary watch her, fearfully, and turned back to the arena to see Weezing blast a jet of fire through the air.

“Ha!” she said, remembering Miltank’s useful resistance against fire and ice. While her Pokemon had been struck, and staggered backwards, she did not feel the heat much. Weezing moaned, before firing off a thick mouthful of sludge. Miltank avoided it.

She leapt into the air and curled her body tightly, before hitting the ground and speeding across the arena. Whitney watched Miltank gain speed; the arena was purposefully large to help her Pokemon use their speed more effectively. Weezing swept along and spat globules of slime at Miltank, but she evaded them effortlessly.

Once she had built up enough speed, she launched herself into the air and tackled Weezing, knocking him to the ground. He floated back up, before sweeping down to try and tackle the cow. Miltank sped away, before throwing herself into the air and performing intricate tricks before she landed on the ground again.

“Another rollout!” Whitney cried. With more speed came more power, and as Miltank flew along the arena, a candy-pink blur, the commentator mentioned Whitney’s team being so fast they were striking before Eusine could use any of his famous illusion techniques.

“Thunderbolt!” he yelled. Weezing summoned sparks to course across his body, but when he fired the piercing arrow of lightning, Miltank darted out the way.

“Will-O-Wisp!”

As the creature groaned and moaned, flames popped up around him like sinister spirits. Periwinkle blue in colour, they were hotter and caused serious burns on the victim. Miltank wheeled around the arena, but Weezing swept along after her, shooting down balls of blue flame to try and strike.

Sweeping left, right and even leaping up, Miltank dodged most the flames. But as she landed on the ground, she saw a huge ball of blue fire come at her before she could register it. For a brief moment, a searing, hot pain flooded her body and she let out a long and sorrowful moo as a scorch smeared across her belly.

“Miltank!” Whitney cried. She knew that if her stomach was burned, rolling into a ball would be difficult - had that been Eusine’s plan?

Miltank did attempt to curl into a ball, but winced in pain, and looked back at her trainer with anxiety. Weezing began to move around the arena with a soft glow, creating new, identical copies that popped up around the arena. The swarm, all moving and acting of their own accord, had the same sunken eyes, the yellowed fangs on the bottom jaw and squirmed slightly as gas was produced within.

Something to strike the foes with…since she relied a lot on physical attacks, Whitney had never trained Miltank to use long-range attacks that could deplete the illusion Weezing created. Still, only one was real, and she had to figure out a way to find out which one it was.

Then, a long, rattling groan. Miltank looked to see a grim, twisted face leering at her. She wailed out loud and covered her eyes, but Whitney whispered words of encouragement. As the Weezing cluster swarmed the area, grunting their name, leering at the foe, they darted in different directions. Some flew to the rafters, others circled Miltank.

Whitney was trembling as she watched Miltank struggle, but realised, as a bilious bubbling filled her stomach, it was not nerves at the battle. She scanned the audience again, wondering who was planning on ruining the match…and when were they going to do it?

With a sharp bang, Miltank was hurled across the arena, a thick sludge mark across her left side. Weezing - whichever one was corporeal - had peppered her with a sludge bomb, and she hit the ground hard. As she got up, Whitney realised she was being completely naïve. She had a way to remedy this.

“Heal bell!” she ordered. The round end of Miltank’s tail glowed white and bobbed in the air; it swung softly from left to right and a low ringing song filled the arena. Hearing the bell’s chime stirred hope in Whitney, and she watched as Miltank’s burn softened, healing quickly. The Weezing group looked disgusted at the beautiful harmony.

“Rollout!” Whitney said, and her Pokemon eagerly dived into the spinning attack. A bolt of lightning darted across the arena like a sparkling golden javelin - Weezing was trying to strike Miltank, but she avoided it as she turned sharply and gathered more speed.

“Haze,” Eusine ordered. Each Weezing belched a thick cloud of chilled, icy smoke. Whitney saw the clouds spreading, meeting and merging into a thicker blanket that began to cover the arena. Intuitively, Miltank slowed down; speeding into darkness was a bad idea.

Eusine was effortlessly halting Whitney’s attempts to strike at high speed. As she peered into the haze, Whitney knew Miltank’s time was drawing to a close, and it stung to know she had barely had a chance to attack. In this match, there was no substituting - making each Pokemon crucial. Pink patches appeared in her cheeks as she chastised herself for letting Miltank’s skill go to waste.

“Flamethrower!” Eusine ordered. A quick, red-hot jet of flame shot through the air, narrowly missing Miltank. It seemed a bad idea, firing fire into the darkness, until Whitney realised Eusine used the fire attack to figure out Miltank’s location.

Racking her brains, she wondered what she could do to try and combat this. There was a thick, heavy thud, and Miltank was hurtled out from the smoky veil and into the air. As she hit the ground, Whitney saw her covered in purple marks - she looked poisoned.

“Another double edge!” Eusine cried. Before Miltank could get up, Weezing flew low along the arena and, as he slammed into her, she was thrown high into the air, wailing loudly. Whitney shook herself for a moment - this was ridiculous.

“Return!” she said, shooting the Pokeball beam into the air and pulling her Pokemon back. Her voice fell to a mere whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

The announcer was talking about Whitney’s poor strategies, how she had sacrificed her main powerhouse so early in the match. She ignored him, finding the smaller, lighter Pokeball on her belt and maximising it.

“I choose you, Swellow!”

Bursting from the ball was her sleek, handsome bird. He flew high into the air to rapturous applause from the crowd, something which raised Whitney’s hopes.

“Weezing, go for -

“Whirlwind!” cried Whitney, as Swellow raised his wings and blasted a thick, twisting sheet of wind across the arena. The haze was driven away to the windows, to the ventilation and out the way with no effort. As the handsome bird flapped harder, some of Weezing’s weaker clones were eradicated, dissipating as if made from sand.

“Tackle” Eusine ordered. Weezing swept out the path of the wind and aimed a tackle at Swellow, but the bird turned and zipped higher into the air. Next, he darted down like a bullet, smashing into Weezing and knocking him into the ground.

“Good work!” Whitney said. Eusine looked at Swellow, perhaps wondering if his evasion was less likely to work on such a Pokemon. As he mused, Swellow tore around the arena, creating his own army of identical clones. Seeing this, Whitney looked to Eusine - how would he feel about her using his technique?

“Flamethrower!”

A jet of flame whooshed through the air; it passed a clone who failed to react to the scorching heat. The real Swellow was circling overhead, waiting for the moment to strike Weezing.

In a flash, he dived - a steep, twisting dive as his beak stuck out, pointed. Swellow smashed into Weezing once more, hurtling the large purple Pokemon to the ground. He floated back up, grunting, and powered up another flamethrower, but Whitney had an idea.

“Mirror move!”

Swellow was covered in a glittering sheen as he, too, unleashed a jet of flame. His was thinner, perhaps not as hot, for he was no master of fire attacks. The two jets met and caused a huge bang, which rippled across the arena, depleting any remaining clones.

“Another double team!” Eusine shouted. “Quick!”

“Go for a whirlwind!” came Whitney’s retort. As Swellow flapped his wings, Weezing appeared out of nowhere, dealing a heavy tackle in mid-air. Before being able to retort, Swellow looked to see another thick belch of haze filling the arena.

This is silly! Whitney thought. He knows I can combat this…he’s cleverer than that, surely?

She had an idea.

“Swellow, use a quick attack to head into the heart of the haze,” she said. “Use supersonic as you go.”

Swellow, like many birds, had an excellent use of bird calls. He was able to release a sound in an area and detect how long it took the sound to reflect back to his ears - doing this, he could judge distance. Whitney’s theory was that Weezing’s clones, being nothing more than illusions, would allow sound to pass through them.

However, once Swellow flew into the ice-cold cloud of haze, something was immediately wrong. The blue smoke glowed brightly, and Whitney could feel a heat swarming the arena. She shouted for her Pokemon, but it was useless.

From within the cloud there was a gigantic explosion. Audience members screamed as a fireball rocketed into the sky, throwing Swellow out of the sky. He smashed into the ground with a sickening snap as smoke and fire billowed out from the middle of the arena.

Whitney panicked as smoke curled around her ankles and obscured her vision; she could no longer see the audience, although she heard the announcer remark on Weezing’s use of explosion. The air was thick and it hurt to breathe; Whitney coughed as she looked around, trying to find Swellow.

Suddenly, there was another bang and a scream; Whitney saw blurred figures rushing around among the smoke; what was going on? Bending down, she reached out and felt Swellow by her side, and recalled him quickly. Who were these people on the arena - did they not know the match was still underway?

An elbow connected with Whitney’s head and she stumbled in surprise; as she staggered, she found a pair of arms grab her round the chest.

“Hey! What are you doing!” she exclaimed.

“Shh…”

“Hey! I’m in the middle of -”

A hand clamped over her mouth and Whitney struggled against an invisible captor. A hand felt around her waist, and with one, two, three plucks, Whitney had her Pokemon taken from her. She attempted a scream, tried to flail her limbs, but was bound tight.

*

Morty had been feeling drowsy and tired, but the screams from the arena jerked him awake. He could see the arena from his position in the bell tower - there was a small window that he peered through to see an arena filling with smoke.

“Something’s going on,” he gasped. “This is it Gengar!”

He turned to go to the staircase leading him towards the arena, but as he turned, he saw an all-too-familiar lady standing before him. Lorelei smiled with an air of seduction and Morty’s wrists ached again.

“You!”

“You’re not the only one who can teleport,” she said coolly. Morty fell to the ground, his wrists throbbing and sending an ice cold pain flooding up to his brain.

“THE GYM IS BEING ATTACKED!” he screamed.

“Exactly, and we can use this vantage point to see who leaves the arena first. They will be the thieves! Use your head, Morty, if we go charging in there we are useless! Blind!”

“How are you hurting me so much,” Morty groaned, writhing on the floor.

“Slowbro is a clever beast,” Lorelei replied. She walked to the window overlooking the street of Goldenrod. People walked along, chatting in cafes and doing shopping. Did they not realise the chaos that was unfolding?

*

Whitney felt hands release her, and collapsed to her knees. Shadowy figures fled from around her and she moaned as smoke filled her lungs. Coughing, crying, bawling, Whitney struggled to find the strength to get up.

“HELP!” she screamed. “MY POKEMON…HELP!”

Something grabbed her arm, but it was a soft touch, and that sharp, floral scent reminded her of home… Mary had found her, and took her to the edge of the arena, where the smoke had thinned.

“Mary!” Whitney said.

“Are you okay?” Mary asked. “What happened?”

“Someone… someone stole my Pokemon,” Whitney gasped.

“Who?”

“I didn’t see… loads of people… they fled…”

“Weezing’s explosion filled the place with smoke… then there was a bang, and the spectator stand fell apart…everyone’s been running around, we need medical assistance,” Mary gasped. Whitney saw her face was shining with sweat, and her hair frazzled.

“We need to get out of here!” Whitney said.

“Morty was right,” Mary said darkly. “We should have listened…”

Whitney pulled away from her partner and raced along the outskirts of the arena. She saw people lying on the ground, injured, and saw Eusine stemming a bleeding nose.

“What happened?” she cried.

“Someone planned this!” Eusine cried. “They knew I specialised in cloaking and illusion, they acted on my strategy!”

“Did you lose any Pokemon?” Whitney asked. Eusine hesitated. “Did you!”

“No, no,” Eusine said, checking. “I didn’t get robbed.”

“I…right,” Whitney said. Eusine tried laying a hand on her, but she pushed him aside and raced along the arena, trying to find the door.

*

Morty clutched his head, groaning. He lay in the corner of the bell tower as Lorelei scanned the area. Suddenly, she let out a cry.

“There! Three people running!”

Morty looked to see the icy cuffs on his wrists shrink and retract, and with it, he found the strength to get up and look at the window. Emerging from the gym were three adults, two men and a woman. Lorelei looked quickly at Morty to gauge his reaction, before looking back.

“That woman…”

“Are they thieves?”

“Must be.”

A black car, hidden just down an alleyway, was waiting. The three got in, and as the woman opened the door, Morty caught a glance. She was incredibly beautiful, her slender figure hidden by a large white coat. She got into the car and it soon sped off down the streets of Goldenrod.

“We can’t chase them, you know that,” Lorelei told him, as if reading his mind. “We can’t.

“What can we do then?” Morty asked.

“We are the eyes and ears,” she told him sternly. “We can’t do anything.”

*

Meanwhile, the smoke had thinned across the arena and medical help had arrived to deal with any people injured. Whitney returned from her venture outside - she ran to try and catch up with the thieves but was too tired, too emotional to give chase.

She was being fussed over by a paramedic, Mary watching her sternly.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

On the other side of the arena, Eusine sat on the floor, watching the fallout from the chaos. A paramedic came over to him, perhaps wondering if he was hurt.

“Have you had a check-up?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Eusine replied. The man sat him on a fold-out chair and took out a device to measure his blood pressure. Eusine lifted the sleeve of his shirt and let the man wrap the strap around.

“So, you’re not hurt at all?”

“No,” Eusine said. The man smiled.

“Then everything went without a hitch.”

Eusine’s eyes widened, and he stared at the man.

“You?”

“Thanks for your cooperation,” he said, still checking Eusine for injuries.

“I…I didn’t know…”

“We told you just to battle, and we’d take care of the rest,” he explained. “We told you we’d act after you used explosion.”

“So…you stole…”

“You know what we did,” said the paramedic.

“And what about your end of the bargain?”

“We’ll give you what we promised,” the paramedic said. “But that’s not my job. You want Jack Surge for that. Just go home, don’t speak to anyone. We’ll be in touch soon.”

Eusine rose from his seat, bid goodbye to the man, and walked across the arena. Whitney’s expression after she was robbed haunted him; her horrified expression, her aching loss… and he had been implicit in it. But, he reminded himself, it was necessary.

*

That evening, Michael Mitchelson was in his office. Unusually, he was not working. He sat at his desk, longing to get a flight home to Pua Samoa, where he could see his wife and daughter. Something was rooting him to his office, though. He was waiting to hear from Steven Stone.

He wasn’t sure if Steven would contact him, but he had a wild feeling the man would confirm (or brag?) that the theft went successfully. He examined a photograph of his three children - William, Milo and Mia, and gazed fondly at their bright faces. Each were several years younger, and each so optimistic, so happy.

The lighting in the room crackled; Michael looked to see the room get darker as his computer began to turn on. This was it. Steven’s calling card.

“Hello Michael,” came a voice. Michael looked to see Steven sitting in a comfortable chair, broadcasting to Michael’s screen. The deranged Porygon-Z was in the corner of the screen, his eyes shooting around wildly.

“Steven,” Michael said crisply.

“I’d like to thank you for not interfering today,” Steven explained. He swept his silver fringe from his face, looking utterly relaxed. “Thanks to you we captured three of Whitney’s Pokemon. Panic has spread across Goldenrod City, and the newspapers tomorrow are awash with fear and upset.”

“This is all good, I assume?” Michael asked coldly.

“It’s what we wanted,” he replied. “My field team tell me Whitney’s Pokemon will earn a lot of money.”

“Why are you doing this,” Michael asked. “You surely understand my plight to stop thefts, to reunite Pokemon. What do you gain from stealing, breaking hearts, tearing families apart?”

Steven thought for a moment.

“Money,” he replied. “I gain money from it, Michael.”

There was a pause, in which Steven checked his cuffs, looked around the room and readjusted himself. Michael watched him, feeling under pressure. What was he going to say? What would he do? After a moment, Steven cleared his throat.

“You did as I asked. I have asked my men to retreat from your family. They will be safe from me.”

“Thank you,” Michael replied.

“I am not a villain, Michael,” Steven explained.

Michael nodded.

“But just so you know… when I can locate her, I will hunt down Jasmine. She killed Adam Anderson and I will not have her go unpunished.”

“You’ll never find her,” Michael said, recalling the impressive illusionary protection granted by the family of Stantler.

“She’s at the old farm, north of Olivine,” Steven replied, with a wicked smile. Michael gasped - how did Steven know this? “I do my homework, Michael. And while we can’t get to her location due to the creature’s protection, we will break it. We will.”

Steven got to his feet.

“That girl will die a violent, horrible death.”


Notes
Okay, sorry for the massive wait!

-This is the end of the Golden Arc, but that doesn't mean the characters and plots don't interweave with the main plot.

-This arc -and all others during the fic - are intended to explain back story and develop characters when they aren't in the main portion of the fic.

-In fact, some of the characters here are involved in the arc after Violet.

-The team who raided the gym are a different 'team' to the ones at the casino. This team are the field agents, who are a bit more violent. The female is actually the woman who killed Keadis, and will appear again soon.

-The next arc will not be as long - just a few small installments. It is called 'Oscar's Mission'



Thoughts, queries, etc, I'd love to hear them.

Ch26 is on the way. I sort of tweaked it to include a huge battle with a recurring character
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