Author's Note:
I am going to go back some day and definitely change the surnames of the four main characters: Volkner Sune, Gardenia Florence (no relation to Lily Florence!), Jasmine Steele, and Cyrus Luna.Note, this is when I get off my *** and do it. For now, you still deal with Denzi, Mikan, whatever Gardenia's surname was, and Akagi, in the earlier chapters. I will be using the more legitimate ones from here on out.
sinnoh stories
the legend of volkner
Volkner supposed that one of the better points of his day was when he entered the arena and he was met by press members -- he was recognized from the Veilstone City incident, as well as from previous incidents such as the Windworks situation.
"Sir, how are you feeling? Up to battling already?"
"I'm a warrior at heart," Volkner had responded smugly. "If I had to walk into this place with a limp, I would have."
"But you did, sir," one fo the reporters said dryly, noting the slight limp in which Volkner had walked in with, his body still showing mild signs of damage from his fight with Cyrus. "What happened?"
Volkner merely smiled knowingly, nodding. "Of course I did. Now get out of my way. I need to get some battling done."
Chapter 18: Pastoria City Smackdown
Backstage, the trio of Volkner, Jasmine and Gardenia were a small do in the sea of competitor for the night's event. People were filling the place to the brim, crushing the three into a corner. Volkner sighed with annoyance. He supposed he could stand it though, for his fifteen minutes of fame.
Ten minutes later, the first match was called. A boring match between two boring trainers with boring Pokemon, Volkner observed. They had no skill, but the one with the stronger Pokemon won by a small margin. They had a short five minute break, before the next match was called:
"Our next match is: PArticipant 248, Volkner, versus Participant 027, Jeff! Will the two participants please head out to the ring?"
Mach after match passed: Volkner, Gardenia and Jasmine pushing through the amateurs they fought with ease. Some of them easier than others of course -- they were newbies in the early rounds, people who wanted a good fight for experience, but the three more reasoned fighters were able to get through.
But of course, they weren't the only good guys in this pit. Good not necessarily meaning caable a winning, in some cases: but potentially capable. If it weren't for some of their more... interesting handicaps.
“Next up is... Participant 250, Gardenia, versus Participant 306, Tom! Will the two participants please come out the ring?”
Nodding toward Volkner and Jasmine, Gardenia stepped out through the crowd, rushing into the ring.
She was met with the sight of a burly man. His face was grim and ugly, rugged with five o'clock shadow. His nose was a thin shade of red, his eyes a bright blue. Amongst the stench of sweat and food, blood and drinks, Gardenia could sniff out the alcohol on his breath.
“Hello!” the man exclaimed. “My'sa namey Tom!”
“...Hi,” Gardenia said.
“You'sa Gardenia, right?”
“...Right.”
“We has Pokeymons bottle!”
“Battle, Tom.”
“That'sa what I says! Gosh, you'sa stooped, girly, Garfield...”
“...My name is Gardenia, Tom,” Gardenia deadpanned. She moved her hand down toward her belt, unhooking one of her Pokeballs and tossing her arm forward. In a flash of bright white light, a Pokemon with a large green head and bugged out eyes and a twisted green bottom that it balanced itself on. “C'mon out, Carnivine!”
“Carnival!” Tom screeched. “Demunny! AGHGHH!” He stuck his hands into the pockets of his dirty brown khakis and pulled out two Pokeballs. He tossed them both onto the floor. They sat there, but Tom ran forward, kicking them. His feet connected to the release switch of each one, but it meant his feet fell out from underneath him. He fell flat on his ***. In return, though, in twin flashes of light, two bear-like Pokemon with red bottoms and pale chests, spots of red in the seemingly random spots in the midst of the pale, tan chests and head. Their eyes did not stay still, constantly swirling around as if drunken.
“Fine,” she murmured. “You want a double battle? Let's go then, Turtwig!”
Tom picked himself up. “Tommy just had drinkies!” he proclaimed proudly. “He will win tourny for big monies! Treats tooooo EBERYON!”
“Who's Eberyon, Tom?” Gardenia asked. She was clearly somewhat amused.
“EBERYONE is you! And me! And EVERYONE around! IZZZZ EVERYONE!”
“...I see,” she said. She pointed forward, toward the two Pokemon she recognized as Spinda. “Turtwig, Carnivine – Carnivine, use Vine Whip and hold the Spinda on the right, then Turtwig, you use Razor Leaf and cut it into ribbons!”
“Spinydah 'n' Spineti!” Tom cried. “Try 'zat Teeter Dance! Go, goooo!”
The smell of alcohol, Gardenia realized, had increased twofold when the two Spinda got onto the field. Were they drunk too?
The two Spinda began to dance uncontrollably, weaving and winding miraculously past both of Gardenia's planned attacks. Not a single Razor Leaf hit, and the Vine Whips could not connect. She stood there, mouth wide open, awestruck.
“Awwwwright! Dojiiied, dodgieddd, dodgied! Go Spinydah! Go Spinetis! Yaahhh!” Tom cheered. “Now, Spinydah! Use dat Copy.. copy... uh...”
He stopped for a moment, pondering what the move was called, it seemed. Gardenia slapped her palm against her face, then realized that this was a perfect opportunity for a surprise attack.
“Turtwig! Curse! Then use Tackle on... one of them! Carnivine, use Bind on the one that Turtwig doesn't hit!”
Turtwig shut his eyes, a light blue aura surrounding him.
At this point, Tom recalled the name. “Copy Kitty!” he exclaimed. “I mean cats! Yessy sirrs, Copppppy Cats, Spinydah! On the turtle! DEMUNNYS! It's goin' down isn't it Spineti? Bye-bye demunnys wit da PSYBEAMS! Ha ha!”
Spineti began to dance an odd dance, much odder than the one before – limbs flailing out in spastic patterns, guttural growls coming from low in her throat... and then she fell over, totally unconscious. Moments later, Spinydah followed.
The referee called out. “...Okay, then! It seems Gardenia wins by default!”
Tom scowled. “BUT MY DRINKIES MONEY! I wanna get my drinkies and watch things go FLASH on fire!... Tommy likes fire. Tommy tom tom tom, likesies his fires, yep. Burn, babby burn, discooo infreno!”
Completely content, Tom walked off stage.
Ten minutes later, Volkner looked up at the intercom, nodding as he heard his name being called. He walked outi nto the arena, looking at his opponent with odd amusement: some other amateur he assumed. His group wasn't the most experienced group of fighters in the world, but some of these guys were obviously total newbies to the field just looking for their fifteen minutes of fame. At least his group had some experience under their belts.
"Hiya!" his opponent said. She was a girl, obviously barely above the age of eight or nine. Her hair was short, just down to her ears, tucked neatly behind them. Her eyes were a bit above the average size, their adorable blue depths storing at Volkner. She was dressed in a simple, purle dress with a pair of buckled shoes. "MY name's Casey!"
"Volkner," Volkner muttered. Really? A kid? They WANTEd to make this easy for him. "Let's get this started."
"Okay!" She tossed her arm forward, her POkeball opening up, the white light that burst forth from inside mateiralizing into..
Volkner's eyes widened with shock, his jaw loosening, his mouth a gaping "O" of surrise. He recognized the Pokemon that came out very easily. It was a lummox of a Pokemon, standing in at a firm six feet, give or take a few inches. Its skin was a shining, metallic red, with a pronounced silver abdomen and buzzing metallic wings on its back.
It was the evolution of the one Pokemon in the world that feared... Scizor.
"Son of a *****!" Volkner thought.
"Bullet Punch, Scizzy-"
"At least give me a chance to release my Pokemon!" Volkner screamed.
Csy tilted her head to the side quizzically, as if asking, "Why". But she was giving him time. Devil toddler, he mused.
He released Electabuzz, considering him to be the most ferocious fighter. Electabuzz turned to face Volkner, nodding slowly.
"Okay, then! Bullet Punch, Scizzy!"
The Scizor burst forward at speeds past ones Volkner had ever seen, dashing in front of Electabuzz and punching him square in the ja with one closed pincer, before moving backward. Electabuzz fell over, blood now trickling from broken skin on his face.
He stood up and glanced toward Volkner.
Volker looked unraged. "Jesus Christ, you couldn't see that coming?! C'mon, you stupid thing, counteract with a Thunder Punch!"
he as nervous. He had a right to be, considering his past experiences with the Scyther family. But Electabuzz did not eem pleased by this treatment. He ran toward the opposing Scizor, barred his cheek like a target and slammed it right into his claw.
Volkner stood there, awestruck. The little bastard was throwing the match. He ran up to Electabuzz and grabbed him by he arm, only to have the free hand slam into his stomach. Vlkner cried out in pain. Certain injuries were still not healed; and Volkner knew now that a match wasn't the only thing Electabuzz was afraid to throw
He let the Pokemon's arm loose. "Oh, god damn it!"
"Language, Mister."
"SHUT UP!" Volkner roared. His mind was a blur of rage, nervousness and plain anxiety. He was going to be embarrased in front of the huge crowd, solely because his Pokemon refused to accept a little drill-Sergeant treatment. he reached into his pocket, pulling out Electabuzz's Pokeball and preparing to return him.
"Oh oh," his oponent oh-so-kindly reminded him, "if you read the rules, you know that it's one Pokemon only. Unless you want a double battle... but the Pokemon you send out is the Pokemon you use." She seemed smug, Volkner realized suddenly. He wanted to kick her around a little. But he supposed that being arrested for assaulting a little girl would put a dent in his plans.
"Fine," Volkner said, sticking the Pokeball back into his belt, "but at least let me have a moment to talk to my Pokemon."
She sighed, a snide grin crossing her lips. "Fine."
Volkner knelt in front of Electabuzz, a fierce look in his eyes. "C'mon, you little ****er. LEt's talk. OVer in the corner." He stood up and walked over to the corner. Electabuzz, with a bit of obvious reluctance, sauntered along after him.
Volkner fell to his knees in front of Electabuzz, making direct eye contact. He did not flinch at all despite the fiercely defiant gaze. He spoke slowly, carefully, choosing his words the best he could manage. With his head the way it was working at the moment, fuzzy and screaming out obscenities, it was difficult. "What's your problem?"
Of course, Electabuzz didn't respond with words: but in his own little language, a language of grunts and fists. He stuck out a finger, pointing at Volkner, before delivering another firm unch toard his gut. Volkner beared it with gritted teeth. "So I'm your problem?"
Electabuzz nodded.
"WHAT about me is your problem?"
Eelctabuzz wasn't a stupid Pokemon He was a little vilent sure, but he wasn't a barbarian. He made his fiercest possible face, turning toward the opposite way. He barked out, in what Volkner interpreted as an authoritative vice. His own. It was harsh, making Volkner flinch. Then Electabuzz turned back, making an innocent, sad and scared impression.
Volkner wasn't stupid either. Electabuzz was upset about his harsh attitude. He shut his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'll tell you what... you win this match for me, I buy you a big dinner with the payout. I'll even think up a little pet name for you -- like Chuseph's."
"Ten more seconds of time allowed!" the referee cried. "Challenger Volkner will be disqualified if more time is used!"
Electabuzz nodded and ran back toward the center of the ring. Volkner gave up a thumbs up to no one in articular, then followed Electabuzz.
"You finally ready?" Casey asked.
Volkner nodded. "Let's go, girly!"
"Scizzy, use Slash!"
"Electabuzz, don't let it hit you! Counterat with whatever you can!" Volkner cried, and watched as Electabuzz lowered himself to the ground, pushing himself forward and performing a low, sliding kick. Scizzy the Scizor leaped into the air to avoid the attack, pening one of his pincers and pushing it downward: with visciousness in his eyes that made Volkner convinced that its intent wasn't to win, but to eviscerate Electabuzz. He felt his heart skip a beat, his muscles tensing up, but then felt them loosen as Elecabuzz reached up, grabbing the steely red arm, and slamming him to the side. Then, relentlessly, he lifted up Scizzy once again, slamming him toward the other side: he repeated this arc-like motion three more times before finally letting go, and stood over the unconscious steel-tye, panting heavily. He walked up to VOlkner, then offered his hand.
Volkner, utterly shocked, took it and shook it: then grunted as a fist was delivered to his stomach.. He was feeling like he was going to robably going to need a doctor by the time this little tournament was over. Or maybe he would ust buy that promised dinner and eat a little of it himself. he didn't know: everything around him was sort of confusing right now.
Jasmine Steele walked onto the field, a strong conviction in her heart. This was an odd feeling to her, but she had been feeling quite odd recently anyway. Ever since she and Volkner... Well, he was cute. She had to admit that. He was a stark contrast to her timid, shy personality; he being a loud, obnoxious jerk. But every girl had a bad boy phase, she supposed, so there was not anything wrong with her having feelings for him. Was there?She shook herself out of this thoughtful trance, and glanced at her opponent. A sir Alexander, the announcement had said. He was tall, his eyes an intimidating force, keeping her from direct eye contact. He had a head of blue hair, neatly combed downward, though she had a feeling that if she walked up to him and pressed it upward, it would bounce into a u-shaped spectacle. He wore a tight silver vest, with a pair of jeans beneath that.
"Alexander Columbia," the man said.
His words were fast, like that of an auctioneer's, Jasmine mused. Perhaps he just wanted to get this over with. She did not blame him."Jasmine Steele," she responded.
"Whenever the participants are ready, they may begin!" the announcer said.
Jasmine looked at Alexander, nodding politely. "Whenever you're ready."
The man instantly flashed his hand forward, releasing a Pokemon from its circular, half-red half-white hiding place. She recognized it as an Alakazam, standing tall with pointy ears, a mustache-like projection of hairs coming from its narrow snout, the rest of its body thin: which was not a surprise. Alakazam were not known for their physical powers, but for their mental ones. She prepared to remove her own Pokeball, when her arm refused to move. She tried to move her other one, only to find that paralyzed too: a strike of fear hit her. Perhaps she was having some sort of stroke? She tried to speak, and found that capability, while supressed to a mere whisper, still functional. "...I c...can't..."
A voice entered her head. "We're getting you out of here, Miss Steele. Alakazam, drop er."
A sudden pulsation of panic rushed through her body, her muscles staying in a constant contracted state, her nerves being shot down one-by-one, each strike being an agonizing wave of pain. She didn't know what was going on. She could not think straight. Her mind was a melting mush at the hands of her torturer, and she felt consciousness slowly begin to slip away."We're losing her, Alakazam. Keep her conscious. Come, Jasmine Steele- time for you to introduce me to a friend of yours..."
Suddenly, she was brought back to this tortured reality. She cursed it. She felt herself be picked up by the arm, and within moments, the sights of the surrounding arena disappeared: she was instead met by the sights of a shocked, wide-eyed Volkner Sune.
Volkner stared at Jasmine for what felt like hours. He saw her face contorted in pain, her limbs limp, her skin a pale, sweaty white. She was pleading with him with her eyes; after a while, his glance moved up to the person holding her. He recognized it in an instant."My Alakzam is quite proficient with torture, wouldn't you think so, boy?"
"Let... her go..." Volkner whispered. His anger was rising to the point of where he felt like he was going to burst. He had her. He really did. He wondered briefly why he was even here, but he supposed that didn't matter to hm- he was here, and holding Jasmine, so he was going to die. "Jupiter, if you don't let her go right this ****in' minute, I will wring your neck!"
Author's Note (end):
Boo. Yes, I wrote myself into something I really didn't want to write, so I changed it up a bit to come out with this! Any questions as to motives for this will come next chapter. For now, I leave you all on a cliff hanger. MUAHAHA. :3
EDIT: Oh my god, I almost totally forgot. Tom is a character used with permission created by bobandbill from his story, "The Retelling of Pokemon Colosseum".