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Open The Grand Kalos Festival: De La Vie Et La Mort

The lick from the Stoutland caused June to repulse in a playful way. As she backed away, she giggled at the lick. It took her a moment to regain her composition, where her smile faded into a much more neutral, somewhat serious one. She tried to rub off the slobber off her unneat fur, to no avail. Not that she minded: dog slobber was a bit gross, but it wasn't the plague or anything. Which was good for Gerald, who also received the doggy kiss.

"Heh, good boy!" He laughed as the large dog jumped on him, receiving the lick without any qualms. He did lose the other half of the hotdog, however. Not that he minded, nor noticed as the Stoutland gave him the sloppy kiss. The playful dog when a woman called his name, obviously his owner. It's name was Denver, apparently.

The owner of Denver had asked if he caused any trouble. Gerald was about to say "No, none at all." and compliment her on how nice he was, however she suddenly realized something, cutting herself off with an "Oh!". After a small awkward silence of which he could not discover the source of (Gerald had not yet noticed Luna standing near, nor had June) she introduced herself as Auryia. "And you are Gerald, correct? The skillful battler who just battled? And who is this adorable fox?"

Gerald returned the warm smile with one of his own. "Let me answer all three of your questions. Number one, no worries about Denver. He was very nice, you got a good boy on your hands. Number two, I am indeed Gerald. I wouldn't say skillful, just lucky. As for the adorable fox, her name is June. She's a good friend of mine." June seemed flattered at the 'adorable' comment from Auryia, she never really considered herself cute. She also reconjured a smile, albeit a small one.

One that faded when she caught something out the corner of her eye. A Umbreon and her Trainer. Luna. She shot a glare at the duo, still shaken and holding a bit of a grudge from the magazine incident from earlier. She continued to stare for another few seconds before her gaze returned to the Stoutland and Auryia. The Braixen sighed and thought to herself, "This will be interesting."
 
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(I promise that as soon as I can access 'Charms from my tablet, my posts will get more detailed. I just can't write as much on my phone.)

The explosions of colors on the field were beyond beautiful. The Night Daze collided with the Flamethrower and the attack dispersed in a magnificent fashion. Bailey thought that this would be more than enough colors to paint the world. Inky black, menacing red, a collision of bright yellow and blue; fascinating. She wouldn't want this battle any other way- in all honesty Bailey didn't want it to end.
In her awe of the field, Bailey missed Phi's command to Osh, but the move wasn't very discreet. It was fairly evident that Phi's command was to use Thunderbolt considering the way Osh moved to use it. Despite the fact that the electric steam wouldn't even get near her, Bailey braced herself for a shocking attack. Her tense posture didn't help her Pokemon who was forced to create a plan of his own considering his absentminded trainer had left her senses for a little bit.

Yarrow shot a panicked glance at Bailey, but her mind had left her for the colors and majesty of the battle. Ugh. Wouldn't his trainer ever realize that not everything is to be admired? To maybe focus for a second? Sure, she can be very analytic. Bailey is so cool and confident, but more often than not her distracted side pulls her away from the task at hand- making her seem very oblivious many times. Yarrow tensed up and prepared to shoot off in a different direction to avoid the attack, but it seemed as if Bailey had other plans. It only took her a second, if that, to regain her senses. "Yarrow... Umm... Try to use Shadow Claw to dodge the attack."

The Zoroark was very confused at the panicked order, and it was far too late. The shocking wave of electricity hit the dark type, and ultimately resulted in Yarrow passed out. The whistle blew to end the match. "Zoroark is unable to battle! Phi and Osh are the winners!"

Bailey walked briskly, but cooly, to her Pokemon. "Hey, that loss was my fault. You did fantastic Yarrow- please take a rest." She apologized as she rolled Yarrow's Dusk Ball into her hand from her bag and, in a flash of red, the Zoroark disappeared. Bailey stood and politely nodded her head in Phi's direction. "Thank you for the battle! Congratulations on your win." She called before finding Zephious in the crowd. Bailey smiled for a second in his direction and walked off of the field through the entrance she emerged from only minutes earlier.

As she stepped away from the battles, Bailey let out a huge sigh. She took a moment to just stand in the empty hallways that lead to the bleachers outside for the spectators. Many emotions were taking their toll on her, but none more prominent than awe. That was, by far, the most thrilling battle she had ever experienced. Even her competitive matches between her childhood friend Damien weren't even that spectacular and breathtaking. Sure, she was disappointed, maybe a tad bit shocked as well. Bailey hadn't lost in a Pokemon match in a while to be honest- though she hadn't battled in a while either. But Bailey was extremely pleased at how much she learned from that battle.

She ran her finger down the chain of the black locket Zephious gave to her as she re-entered the section where she sat. The locket had instantly became a comfort item for some reason- Bailey couldn't guess in a million lifetimes at this point as to why. Besides that she returned to her seat. "Hey- you're up next aren't you? Good luck." Bailey said thoughtfully. Her eyes were trained on the ceiling and her expression was concentrated. She obviously was thinking about something else, but Bailey was sincere when she said it.
 
Curt and the majority of his team cheered and clapped along with the rest of the crowd as the battle drew to a close, everyone was clearly impressed by the battle that had just transpired, though Raviel let out a bit of a disappointed groan though, no doubt he wanted a shot at fighting Cosmo. Both trainers and Pokemon fought excellently, employing clever strategy and showed impressive displays of power. Curt didn't envy whoever had to follow up that battle, the crowed had gotten so riled up after that last match they might end up agitated if the next battle lacked any flare or tension. Thinking about the next battle reminded Curt that he still needed to pick a partner for his battle, he really hadn't narrowed down his options, but knew he should probably pick his partner soon, his battle could be coming up very so-

"AND FOR OUR NEXT MATCH, IT WILL BE CURT OF CHERRYGROVE TOWN AGAINST GEOSENGES OWN ZEHPIOUS OF HOUSE EVERARD!!!", the announcer roared. That caused Curts face to drain a bit, figures his battle would be called the moment he was ready to buckle down and choose a Pokemon. Curt didn't need to look at his team to know that their eyes were on him, he gazed over his team, feeling a bit panic as thoughts and idea's rapidly bounced around inside his head as he tried to deduce who he should send out. Letting out a groan, he realized that the more he thought about it, the more likely he was going to make a bad, panicky decision.

"Alright Jasper, I guess it's me and you", Curt said, cricking his back as he stood up. Jasper's eyes widen slightly before she gave a cheer at being chosen, she hadn't really been used in a big tournament like this in a while, and was looking forward to showing everyone what she was made of. Embertail gave a cry to tell them good luck, Whips just gave a small grunt, Lockjaw let out a sigh in relief at not being picked, Ravel just shrugged, and Flare also wished them good luck through he telepathy. They scooted their way through the seats and began walking down to the arena, they heard a few people mutter something about Curt using an unevolved Pokemon in such a high level tournament, but they tried not to pay it any mind. Jasper might still be a Cubone, but she was tougher then she looked, like Embertail, people often underestimated her, however, they doubted Zeph would be the kinda person to do that. After a surprisingly short walk, they stood in front of the gate leading to the battlefield, Curt let out a sigh as he realized this was it, they hadn't battled in front of this many people since the Pokemon League Tournament, and he was feeling just a little bit nervous.

"Well Jasper, you ready?", Curt asked the Cubone, who gave a roar and raised her Thick Club in the air, like that was a question that needed to be asked. Not wanting to waste another second, they stepped through the gates and walked onto the arena, Curt stood in the trainer area just outside the ring while Jasper took her place on the field, tossing her bone from one hand to the other in anticipation of the fight to come. Zeph had no doubt bought one of those expensive podiums to get a first-class view of the action, so it was expected that he was going to take a bit longer to get down. Curt bounced on his heels, adrenaline was already beginning to run through him, he saw the rest of his team along with Jacob in the stands, Embertail and Lockjaw were waving at them to cheer them on, Flare was giving them a soft smile as though trying to say "don't be nervous", Raviel had a cock-sure grin on his face, as though he knew they would win, and Whips gave them a quick nod, showing them that he had confidence in them. Curt couldn't help but smile, even if they weren't battling, Curt and his team could always count on one another for support.
 
There was a ripple throughout the crowd. Phi could feel it, as if it were a dense fog unraveled, a stormcloud of intensity pulled thin and dispersed. A lot of things, Phi contemplated, were beckoned into the world of dust in such a manner, spreading thin, and thinner, and thinner, until they grasped the point of no return, and a cumulative sigh dampened the air before whatever it was had become whatever it is. Cotton candy, with its sticky threads, was a subject of this effect. Raindrops achieved such a forlorn goal as well- and crowds, and destiny, and lies, and truth, and ultimately- ultimately! The greatest misery this fate held within its palm-!
Memory.

Phi's stained hand slipped beneath her coat and clenched the fossilized bag's string, her eyes dissolved in recollection.

"Zoroark is unable to battle! Phi and Osh are the winners!"

There was a ripple throughout the crowd- a cumulative sigh of disappointment and relief accompanied by a general grasping of the air clenched lungs had forsaken, and a jostling of bodies as shoulders let gravity cradle them once more. The battle, for now, was over.

Glee, such a primitive emotion, fleetingly cast its hand upon the winner. He bucked his heels into the air, and the dusty, muddied boots giggled, waving towards the clouds. The bedhead battler had run with his electricity, and was quite near, almost upon the Zoroark as his opponent fell. As such and, as always, his glee was fleeting.

Phi could only name one moment in which Osh would and could be calm- when he had won. When the field was his, and the world was his, and his muscles ached to collapse, but he wanted to race away anyways. When pride had been set in stone, and suddenly the beast realized that perhaps that wasn't what he really wanted after all.

And so, by some miracle of the complexity of emotion, Osh was calm. He took the last, cautious steps towards his newly acquired acquaintance, and tentatively muzzled the swathes of fur upon the fallen comrade's cheek.

For all her vast knowledge, friendship, and understanding of Osh, Phi could never fathom the reason's behind his apology.

Time played the moment. Tick tick, and the clocks went on, and the deed had been done, and the acquaintance was returned for, it seemed, the next battle just must go on, and all that was left of the gift was a memory, fleeting and subject to a million desires. Osh straightened, teetered on his feet, and wavered as he wobbled towards her form. In that moment, the sound of her opponent's last remarks fiddled with her ears, and Phi simply smiled. What words could convey the aftermath, the recollection? What actions could claim the vast field of eternal tranquility, when the battle was over, and the world no longer was strife, but simply was?

Osh's eyes sparked, and the moment of calm was over.

The terrain fizzed as his wobbling gait morphed into leaps and bounds across the field in an incredible feat of stubborn endurance. Fireflies, the tendrils of electricity, spread thin as a bed sheet, swarmed towards his figure, a river of strings flickering as they grasped for his legs, spindly, bony fingers just brushing past the muddy swathes of fur. As the river frothed at the mouth in frustration, sparks receded from the edges of the field one by one until all that was left of the terrain was a defeated trickle of electricity, dwelling in the path Osh forged, hopelessly grasping for his form, as if they didn't wish for him to leave, as if to declare that the battle must go on, for it couldn't end, it could never end. For a moment, Phi achieved the striking sensation that the terrain had just realized it was mortal, bowing to the heels of its creator in one last plea. A shame that he was already closing in on the edge of the field.

As Osh careened, towards her, Phi returned the cards to the chilling, dusty air of her museum, directly before the boundless bedhead absolutely floored her in a heap of giggles. The action was strangely calming. As Phi added a myriad of bruises to her collection, she wrapped her arms around his fuzzy fur, and inhaled the musty scent of mud, ingrained within his skin. With a heave of his chest, Osh's eyes slipped closed and, as if it were a signal, the trickle of terrain dispersed to death once and for all, and the world was still.

"Great, fuzzy beast," Phi lovingly murmured as the flash of a pokeball returned her friend, a grin painted on his sleeping face. The only creature she knew who exhausted himself so thoroughly in one battle that he could fall asleep upon her chest, and still clasp his glee close. Phi had a treasure in her hands- a wonderful, fuzzy, and surprisingly heavy treasure.



The announcer was beginning to draw in the next competitors when Phi arrived at the exit, scribbling relentlessly within her treasured, dusty book. As she opened the gate, a thunk-thun, thunk-thun, thunk-thun, thunk-thun cast its way towards her ears, the harbinger of her brother's return. From the stands, a Skuntank could just be seen dragging his bulk of a body towards the trainer who drifted across the ground, and for those sharp of eye, his quickened pace, so unnatural for one so drowsy, revealed a prominent limp.
 
(OOC: O.K, due to Zeph not responding in a week, I'm going to throw in a quick NPC fight, sorry if this in convienenced anyone)

"NOW JASPER, PARRY AND RIPOSTE WITH ICE BEAM!", Curt yelled towards Jasper, adrenaline running through his veins at the intensity to the battle. Jasper responded immediately by catching her opponents attack with her Thick Club and knocking it back, with a lit bit of extra exertion on her part. True, it may have been less tiring on her part just to jump out of the way, but a parry threw your opponent off-guard, and left them open to a counter attack! Curt had been a pretty solid fencer back in high-school and had shared a few of his old tricks with Jasper, which the Cubone was more then happy to learn.

With her opponent knocked back and off balance, Jasper thrust her Thick Club forward, it's blue runes glowed bright as she shot a bright, fridge-cold, blue beam from her club to her opponent. Their opponent tried to move out of the way, but was a second to late as, after a bright blue flash later revealed, their leg was frozen stuck to the arena floor. They wouldn't be stuck long though, the Ice-Beam wasn't a direct hit and it wouldn't keep them their for long, if they were going to end this battle, it had to be now!

"ALRIGHT JASPER, FLAMETHROWER NOW WITH ALL YOU GOT!", Curt cried as he clenched his fists, the heat of the battle was getting to him. Jasper herself didn't hesitate, tilting her skull up a tad, she open her mouth wide and shot a powerful Flamethrower towards her opponent. The floor of the arena was quickly scorched dark as Jasper barraged her opponent in flames, putting all she had into the unexpected fire-type attack. After about fifteen seconds of constantly streaming her adversary in flames, she finally stopped, painting immediately after. A fire attack was an unusual move to come from a Ground-Type Pokemon, especially one as powerful as Flamethrower, and it tuckered her out fairly quickly. The stood still as their opposition stood their ground for a moment, before finally buckling under and collapsing.

Curt let out a relieved sigh as Jasper, in spite of her exhaustion, raised her club high in the air and let out a loud cry in celebration of their victory. Curt and JAsper's ears were graced by cheer's from , others he saw whisper among-est themselves, surprised that a Cubone was able to win the match. Still, some gave them suspicious glares, and Curt couldn't entirely blame them, there were a few play's that were pulled of due to a bit of help from Lady Luck, still, a win was a win for them, he guessed. He saw Japser walk over to him, despite suffering moderate damage in the battle, she still held her head high, proud of her victory,

"Great work Jasper", Curt said as he patted his partner on the head, or rather on the top of her skull helmet. The Cubone gave a quick nod in recognition of her trainer's praise, Jasper was a very straight forwards Pokemon, and nothing more needed to be said to her. With their battle settled, the two began to make their way back to their seats in the stadium and gear up for their next battle.
 
Luna tried hard to be unnoticed by the ones she had fight against a few hours ago. But wait, was that Braixen staring at her?

Keeping Sombra close, Luna tried to keep herself cool, without getting much results. She could still remember the magazine issue she had that morning but... what else could she do? She needed the magazine and refused to buy one! Helping one of those rumormongerers win money? No way.

As a mess of thoughts took over Luna's mind, the Umbreon began walking closer to the braixen, angrily looking at her. She wasn't sure of what had happened that morning, but she knew Luna hadn't liked it at all and... well, as the most of Luna's team she wasn't a friendly pokemon, specially with other foxes.
 
June hadn't expected the Umbreon to approach her. Not to mention the glare it gave off... June disliked this one even more than the rest of Luna's team. Well, if it was going to lunge, she'd better prepare. She wouldn't be a great idea for taking it on. June had the obvious disadvantage, Psychic would be useless and a Flamethrower at this range could hurt more than just the Umbreon. Attract would be a gamble, she wasn't even sure what gender this Umbreon was... Will-O-Wisp gave a 'back off' vibe. Perhaps that...but it would leave lasting damage, and she really just wanted it to back off.

That's when it hit her. Why not use a different Pokemon? Gerald had lots of them. She began considering which one to use...Switchblades was out of the question...Million was too big...which left Puff and Empty. Empty was immune to dark damage, right? Plus, he could just attract the attention. Yes, Empty would of most use here. She leaned over to Gerald, attempting to grab Empty's Pokeball...

"June, what're you doing?" Gerald's words made her freeze. She had gotten the Shedinja's ball and was half way done figuring out how to open it too. "Why do you have Empty's ball?"

The fox pointed to the source of the problem; Sombra. "So? It's an Umbreon. Those thing's just don't like other foxes tromping around. Ignore it and it'll leave you alone. Probably." Gerald was still oblivious to Luna, that was until June explicitly pointed to her. "Ooooooh."

Getting up and walking over to her, Gerald seemed elated to have found her. "Hey! I wondered what happened to you! I wanted to say you and your Mismagius did great out there!" He paused for a moment, thinking of what to say next. "So, um, good game, right? No grudges, right?"

Meanwhile June continued her attempts to open Empty's Pokeball. She finally figured out it was by pressing the button, releasing the cicada shell from it with little fan fare. Empty stared at June for a moment, before it turned to face Sombra, never letting out a sound, except the natural creaking of it's shell.
It's emotionless eyes seemed to stare into nothing, but yet focused on the upset Dark type. Shedinja were strange, somewhat niche pokemon, but when it came to tanking certain damages, it surpassed many others.
 
Nope, she didn't make it. Gerald had just approached her and he didn't seem to get how awkward was that conversation to her. "Hey! I wondered what happened to you! I wanted to say you and your Mismagius did great out there!" 'but she lost anyways' thought Alba to herself "So, um, good game, right? No grudges, right?".

"Well... I guess..." muttered Alba, not very convinced with what Gerald had just said. He won, right? Couldn't he just go and celebrate it instead of repeating all those "good game" lies? There isn't such thing like 'we did great' in Luna's vocabulary, it's either you win or you lose, and she definately prefered the first option. "Anyways, you have another fight tomorrow, right? Do you know who you're going to fight th-" Alba had suddenly stopped talking when she heard a strong growl come from her pokemon "SOMBRA! What do you think you're doing?!"

But Luna yell wasn't much useful. Sombra was already jumping against them. Oh god, where did that pokemon leave it's manners!? It had been in every dinner her mom made but she couldn't control herself at a hot dog stand.
 
Auryia and Denver watched the scene unfolding before them, the trainer gave her canine Pokemon companion with a nervous glance, but Denver just stared straight ahead, his tail never stopped wagging. Their situation had taken a sudden hostile turn, Sombra had approached Geralds Braxien with sudden hostility, no doubt picking up on its trainers feelings towards the other trainer. Likewise, June had decided to take this matter into her own paws, and, admittedly very impressively, discovered how Pokeballs worked and let out Geralds ghostly Shedinja to help back them up. Other people and Pokemon alike were throwing wary glances their way, as though expecting a fight to breaking out right then and there, of course, Auryia couldn't blame them, the three Pokemon looked pretty hostile.

"ROUGH", Denver barked as the Stoutland suddenly threw himself in between the two hostile parties, the massive dog Pokemon suddenly cutting off the three Pokemon clear line towards each other. The crowed watched, wide eye's at the Stoutlands mighty roar and his fearlessness for jumping in between three Pokemon ready to clash, even Auyria appeared a tad shocked by Denver's bravery. However, the tension hung in the air for but a second before Denver turned back toward his best friend, wail wagging and panting happily. Auyria let out a sigh as she went over to pull that crazy dog out of the middle of those Pokemon just in case things did end up going south.

"I-I apologize again, I'm sure you picked up on this before, but Denver can be a little impulsive", she said as she grabbed Denver by his collar and began tugging him out of the way, " I have to say though, your Braxien, June, right, is very clever to figure out how a Pokeball works so quickly, it's a shame you have another battle coming up so soon, if not, I'd recommend you battle again, my father said someone is only your enemy until you fight them a second time...not entirely sure what that meant though...". If nothing else, it seemed like Denvers sudden intervention had at least calmed the situation down a bit, and those who's attentions were grabbed by the display picked up on that as well, and the crowed had seemed to have gone back to their business. Of course, hardly a moment of relative quiet had passed before a thunderous roar erupted from the Colosseum fields, clearly the battles were still going strong where it mattered.

"Huh, did another battle start alread-, wait, oh no", Auyria said, a hint of panic in her voice as she checked her watch, "shoot, I'm late, I'm terribly sorry, but I've got to meet a friend of mine soon, Gerald here, for Denver's hot dog" Auryia fished through her pockets and handed Gerald a bill.

"If I have time, perhaps I'll look for you in the stadium, hopefully I'll see you then!", the red-haired women said, immediately taking off with Denver trailing closely behind her.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Well, not too bad, eh guy's", Curt said to his friends as he and Jasper rejoined them at their seats in the stadium. Embertail was already on them, extending his claw to give his two friends a celebratory high-five, Lockjaw gave them a happy little growl which Curt recognized as him saying "congratulations". Whips and Raviel gave them a quick nod in acknowledgement of their victory, though Curt noticed that Whips seemed a bit warmer then Raviel, which didn't surprise him, Jasper and Raviel were always at each others throats and were alway's hesitant to compliment each other.

"(Yes, well fought you two)", Flare chimed in as she took a sip from a red plastic cup (no doubt acquired from Curts backpack), lifting it to her muzzle with the aid of her psychic powers. Curt took a seat in between Flare and Embertail as he let out a sigh, they had made it past the first round sure, but if what they'd seen so far was any indication, then they still had a long road ahead of them. Right now however, there was something else that demanded his attention, as a familiar, and pungent, scent, had him turn his head towards his magical fox companion. Curt got a glimpse inside Flares cup, and at the deep red liquid inside it, Flare seemed to have picked up her trainers gaze though.

"(It's only on glass, I'll be fine)", Flare said, the tone in her telepathic voice seemed less defensive and more assuring if anything else.

"It's none of my business so long as I don't have to drag you out of here...", Curt muttered, causing Flare to roll her eye's as she took another sip. She didn't know why Curt alway's brought that up, after all she only had to have them carry her home that one time...

"Rehr rough rrou ghet rat raughf?", Embertail asked, tilting his head.

"(Well now, where I get it is my little secret Embertail...)", Flare said with a knowing smile.
 
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(So sorry guys! I'm back though, and I'm ready to RP! School just got out Friday and as of now I'm officially free for the summer!)

The cool, refreshing air outside the stadium was exactly the medication she needed. Bailey walked quietly along the perimeter of the stadium, her eyes down and breathing deep. Her face displayed nothing but relief to be away from all the activity. In no way was she upset by the outcome of her battle, in fact, she was glad Phi had won. Bailey was very intimidated yet charmed by both Gerald and Curt's team- and both had advanced to the next round of matches. Even when Bailey was just beyond the walls of the stadium, she could still cut the tension and excitement with a butter knife. Bailey continued to walk, this time getting closer to the concession stands and such. Instead of brooding about how her match went, or even imagining what it would be like to face Curt or Gerald, she allowed her mind to roam, thinking of the many times she entered tournaments when she was traveling Unova with Damien.

Damien was quite the character in her life. A childhood friend, one that lived next door, for every year since Bailey moved to Unova's Aspertia Town. She was homeschooled, meaning that Bailey rarely saw other kids on a regular basis, and even then, nobody would talk to her considering, well, they didn't know her. That was until Damien. He, one day, suddenly declared her his rival, and since then vowed to beat her in a Pokemon battle. The thought was funny to Bailey until it actually happened. Damien received a Tepig one day as a gift from his mother, and Cosmo, back then as a Snivy, was eager to battle against it. Once they both set off to become champion, Bailey and Damien ran into each other often- every three cities or so. Every time they battled against each other, and most times the winner was up for grabs the whole battle. Evenly matched in power- though, Bailey preferred a battle style of trickery, where Damien preferred brute strength. Together they competed in the Pokemon World Tournament as minors and they were a force to be reckoned with- coming short of first countless times but still battled as a perfect team.

The thought warmed Bailey's heart. Maybe her mom was right. Reliving memories that are cherished by the heart can lead to better learning experiences and attitude. It sure was healthy, but falling wasn't. Her tennis shoe became caught momentarily between the cracks of the pavement. It was only for a second, but it was still enough for her to trip. Bailey squeaked in surprise as she defended towards earth, but she felt something wrap around her waist. Something thin, but yet strong enough to support her. "Cosmo, thanks. You know what happens when my mind wanders." Bailey looked back at her Serperior, who had an understanding looking her eyes. Though, was that a glimmer of mischief? The large grass snake sighed and unraveled the vine wrapped around Bailey's waist- in other words, her only balance. "COSMO!" The traveler exclaimed, loudly, as she fell to the ground. She braced herself for a face full of concrete, but the leaves she found herself on we're far more preferable. It's good to know that Cosmo actually cared about her health. Sometimes.

Bailey, with Cosmo now at her side, was becoming quite the chatterbox; spilling every exciting event about the match despite the fact that Cosmo already knew. The Serperior had been on the sidelines, cheering her on without her Trainer's knowledge. "... And so then Yarrow's illusion breaks. It was so much sooner than I wanted to! He was doing great acting as a Snake by the way. It must be hard to imitate a snake's movements. I mean, he walks on two legs! I couldn't act as a snake to save my life... Wait...is that Gerald and Luna?" Bailey quit her Overview of the battle as she spotted Gerald, June, Sombra, and Luna. There seemed to have been some conflict judging by the attitude and tension in the air. The traveler jogged over to her friends just in time to notice a trainer and their Scoutland running off. "Umm...well... Hey guys. What's up? And who was that?" Bailey asked, trying to asses their moods. "Oh! By the way! Both of you had a fantastic battle! I was awestruck! Gerald, good luck in the next round. Luna, I wish I had your Mismagius. Like, I'm not joking. She looks so strong, yet mysterious and well trained." She congratulated; Cosmo nodding in agreement.
 
June was somewhat frightened by the Stoutland's interruption. The brevity to jump in the middle of a conflict waiting to happen was pretty surprisingly. Yet he wagged his tail and barked like nothing had happened. Auyria had to come over and drag him away. Empty could care less about the big hearted dog. His eyes were locked on Sombra, silently judging.

Yet at this point June stopped caring and once again buried her head in the roughed up magazine. She could care less about the compliments and the cute Stoutland, or the issue in front of her. Empty could deal with that dumb ol' Umbreon. And if they went for her, she'd roll up her Magazine and thwack them on the nose. That always worked when she was younger, it be no different for an Umbreon. Probably.
-----
"Empty!? But...how!?" Gerald looked baffled at the fact June had figured how to open it, less at the fact they were about to create a massive scene. It wasn't until Denver's interruption between the two parties he noticed the aside glances the group was getting. Not to mention the fact Auryia had to drag the fluffy ball of happiness and doggy kisses out from the impeding battle...

"I-I apologize again, I'm sure you picked up on this before, but Denver can be a little impulsive..."

He cleared his throat in embarrassment before talking again. "No, it's fine. June seems rather uninterested in fighting now, thanks to Denver."

"I have to say though, your Braixen, June, right, is very clever to figure out how to open up a Pokeball so quickly, it's a shame you have another battle coming up so soon, if not, I'd recommend you battle again, my father always said someone is only your enemy until you fight them a second time...whatever that means..."

"We're enemies?" Gerald was somewhat surprised. He certainly didn't consider Luna an enemy...did she consider him one? "I mean...It's not for a while. I'm up for one more battle if you want Luna."

A roar from the crowds seemed to distract Auryia, seemingly remembering she had things to do. "Huh, is another battle start- oh no. Shoot, I'm late. I'm terribly sorry, but I have a friend to meet soon. Here Gerald, for Denver's hot dog."

She handed him a five dollar bill, which was about the same price as the overpriced hot dog. Not that he was expecting her to pay him back. He almost felt bad for taking it... Key word "almost". The Hot dog didn't really appeal to him now. And besides, Auryia had walked off already.


"If I have time, perhaps I'll look for you in the stadium. Hopefully I'll see then!"

"Thank you! It was nice to meet you!" He called out after her. He then turned to Luna. "So...want a rematch...?"

Before she could answer that, another woman walked over. She looked familiar...oh, yes. It was Bailey, from the previous night. She complemented them both for their battle strategies. She also asked about Auryia, who she had spotted walking off. "Ah, thank you. As for who walked away, that was a acquaintance of ours, Auryia, and her Stoutland Denver. And I was just asking Luna to a rematch, to get to know each other better...or something."
 
It seemed that Deo had overestimated his perceptiveness. In the two following battles, he had imagined himself possessing the ability to entirely block out his surroundings, completely isolate his attention towards observing and critiquing every decision, every action, every possible strategy and outcome taking place in that arena at every instance, and apply the breaks of time itself for his own train of thought to catch up. In reality, however, his ride had left the station before he could even reach it. Each of the battles had lasted only a few minutes at most, and Deo hardly caught anything. The only memory of the brief past that his mind had preserved was a mashed up collage of images and sounds: Pokémon zipping every which way, attacks colliding and exploding in brilliant colors, and the booming voice of thousands that encompassed everything.

From his statue-like stillness when facing the battlefield, however, Deo sure appeared as focused as he had attempted to be, at least from the perspective of his partner beside him. Focused was an understatement; the man seemed to have completely forgotten the presence of the two guys he just met, and even Sorex himself. The Sandslash didn't hold this against him, however, growing accustomed to this after so many years. Besides, it wasn't as if Sorex was particularly difficult to ignore. He had always been a down-to-Earth 'mon who rarely spoke out in public. Even the members of Curt's team, previously intrigued by his shiny coloring, had shifted their attention to the arena when the tournament had begun. Just as the silently curious Sandslash summoned just enough will to socialize with them, however, their trainer's name was announced over the intercom, declaring Curt as a participant of the next battle; his Pokémon disappeared back into their Pokeballs before he into the crowd below.

After the intermission following Curt's victory, Deo's mind became unoccupied enough to finally reflect on what he had witnessed: The dramatic reveal of Bailey's Zoroark, Jasper's shocking movepool; these seemed to be the clear highlights. However, something more subtle was pestering Deo, something about that strange Phi and her Manectric. How she was facing down throughout the match, how Osh appeared to make his own quick adaptations to the battle while receiving orders, and Phi's explosive change in tone near the end- these characteristics seemed completely unrelated yet somehow connected nonetheless, like puzzle pieces that while not fitting together still belonged in the complete picture. Deo wanted to face-palm himself; that should have been obvious. Everyone has own odd traits, some more secret that others. Of course he's going to know next to nothing about someone he's never met before! Why was it then...WHY was Deo so distracted by this person? It was the same thing with that young woman he had spotted the night before. She was likely just someone enjoying the quiet evening on a bench after the long festivities, chanting a poem in the dim moonlight as a sort of conclusion to the day. And yet, just like with Phi, Deo had become intrigued, as if her actions possessed some supernatural...no...revolutionary aspect. Could it be that this young woman and Phi were the same person?

Deo slid his hands down his face and sighed heavily, almost groaning. He was embarrassed, mentally scolding himself. 'This is weird. I have to stop.' Sure, Deo has done quite bizarre things when alone, things that concern his Pokémon: staring into mirrors frequently, screaming quietly for no reason, and sometimes pacing back and forth for hours on end, to name a few. However, obsessing over someone like this in public was a first. As Deo became overwhelmed with questions circulating in his head, a vague answer revealed itself as a faint spark emerging from the depths of his consciousness. This answer came in the form of one word...Familiarity? Deo felt that he shared something with the mysterious young woman, and although not knowing what it was, he could tell it was significant, a trait that defined who he was. Perhaps this is why he observed Phi: Because he saw a part of himself in her, something he still had yet to discover.

After several minutes of delving deep in his thoughts, he was once again startled by another outside interruption, this time being the voice over the intercom. "THANK YOU FOR WAITING. FOR OUR FOURTH AND FINAL BATTLE OF THE FIRST ROUND, WE HAVE AIDEN FROM VEILSTONE CITY IN SINNOH, FACING OFF AGAINST DEO FROM HOENN'S RUSTBURO CITY." As Deo's name echoed throughout the stadium for everyone to hear, he felt as if he was the being sentenced. He spun his head to the audience members surrounding him to see if any were looking at him: none. Of course. They didn't know what he looked like, at least not yet. Deo then turned to his partner. Sensing his trainer's nervousness, Sorex nodded slowly as a form of reassurance. Deo didn't nod back, only taking a deep breath before sending the Sandslash back into his pokéball, which he then placed into the silver case before clicking it shut.

The face on Deo's trainer card appeared on the jumbotron of the stadium just as he pulled the hood of his coat over his head, but his goggles and some of his hair were still exposed to the sunlight. As he sauntered down the isles as to attract as little attention as possible, Deo heard slight commotion ahead: It was Curt, returning from his battle with a grin on his face, seeming to enjoy the waves of congratulations from the crowd. Time slowed down briefly from Deo's anxiety as the two trainers intercepted, and he hastily dropped his head further- less so to block out Curt as much as the dozens of eyes that he now felt beaming in his direction. Even though most in the audience wouldn't be so naive as to immediately conclude Deo's participation in the tournament from mere association with one of the trainers- given that they haven't yet recognized his face- Deo wasn't ready to make his existence known, not yet. He needed more time to prepare; he was scared, more so than he had ever been of anything else. Deo typically had no difficultly publicly engaging in battle, and he often welcomed any witnesses drawn toward the action. But this fear...was not one he had experienced before, yet one he had foreseen for a long time. Its source wasn't his intimidation of the other trainers nor the humiliation of losing, but rather the incredible number of people who will bear witness. Being judged on such a huge scale- this was Deo's fear, but it was also his cause.

When Deo finally detached from the mass of people and onto the battlefield, this cause struggled against that fear as the crowd had woken from his presence. Accepting the fact that all attention was directed towards him now, he raised one arm and slowly pulled back the oversized green hood, and the stadium lights shining down on him revealed oddities in his features. His face was rough, almost dirty, lines that streaked down from either side of his nose gave it an ever-present slight grimace, and despite lacking masculine edges it also lacked youth. Even with his short stature, boyishly long hair, and concealed eyes, the seventeen-year-old appeared older than he was, as if something had forcefully accelerated his aging process..

Somewhere on the opposite side the stadium, another man had been navigating through the crowd since Deo had appeared on the jumbotron, as if in pursuit. He lifted a small device on his wrist up to his mouth. "Operation Halt has been initiated. The suspect has now entered the battlefield...Description...long orange hair, suspicious concealing green coat, some sort of red eyepiece...increased probability of association with team Flare." Soon, another face- Aiden's- had appeared on the jumbotron: This time it was a man of around 25 with hazel eyes, semi-dark skin, and short, blond hair slicked back but spiking up slightly. When the figure had stepped out of the shadows to face his opponent, his appearance matched the one on the screen. Aiden closely scanned Deo with serious eyes, concluding that the man did indeed appear like a member of Team Flare, whom local Kalos authorities have obtained leaked information that they were planning something big in Geosenge on this specified date. After the Sinnoh International Police had received word, they sent Aiden- one of their top solo agents- to investigate and hinder Team Flare's plans if possible. When he witnessed Deo show up to register for the tournament in such urgency, he had more than just the ginger's appearance to build his suspicions. Of course, with little more than assumptions, it was most likely that Deo had nothing to do with the villainous organization. Fortunately, that was the beauty of Aiden entering the tournament: If Deo was a criminal, then defeating him in battle would potentially ruin a vital factor in Team Flare's operation. If he wasn't, then it was just a friendly Pokémon battle; the audience wouldn't know the difference. It was law-enforcement without disrupting the public nor falsely convicting an innocent civilian. Genius.

Deo was oblivious to the new presence for several seconds, but he startled slightly when he did notice his opponent across from him. Despite this suspicious reaction, Aiden only smiled politely in response. "I wish you luck. I hope we have a good battle." Deo replied with an instinctive "Likewise" before clicking open his case and pulling out a Pokéball. Instead if throwing it, however, he simply held it out in front if him in an unremarkable fashion and pressed the button in the middle. A red flash shot out, growing and morphing until it gradually faded, revealing Echthra. The Breloom dragged one clawed foot away from the other across the ground, causing a small trail of dust to rise. She lowered her head, her mushroom-like head covering her eyes. Her muscular tail swinging back and forth, Echthra was in a ready stance, as if she knew beforehand that she would fight. Aiden held his chin. 'He didn't throw the pokéball or even call out his Pokémon, strange. He isn't using a fire-type like I expected, either. No matter; I have an even greater advantage now.'

Aiden raised an arm and flicked his hand forward, as if signaling one to come forward. From the far back of the stadium above all of the audience members, a figure leaped down in an orange and yellow blur, leaving an even brighter and longer trail behind. After descending dozens of meters, the figure landed in front of its trainer with a considerable THUD, kicking up dust which then enshrouded it. The red eyes of a humanoid form glowed from inside, a long flame extruding upward. An Infernape was uncovered when the dust had dissipated, and it immediately took a fighting stance. Most of its species hardly exceeded four feet in height, much like Breloom. However, this one easily stood eye-to-eye with any adult. Additionally, Its blazing hair stood up unusually straight, yanked towards the sky. Truly, the flaming primate was intimidating.

Deo's breathing became heavy and uneven, but he was smiling excitedly, and his fists were clenched from exhilaration. The unfavorable odds had only pumped him up. Now he was the underdog! It was his willpower against his opponent's! This was where he would prove himself!

...Bullshit, all of it. 'How many times must I forget?' Deo's smile gradually morphed into a scowl, and he straightened himself, calming down. He turned around and began walking away, much to the confusion of Aiden, the referee, as well as many in the crowd. He reached the back wall and plopped down, bending one knee and resting an arm on it in a relaxed position. Echthra didn't budge; it was unclear as to whether or not she had noticed. Questions began to circulate throughout the audience...

"What's he doing?"
"Is he alright?"
"Is he giving up? Hey, do your best! Don't let him scare you!"

Deo was expressionless. He simply gazed up towards the general direction of where he sat, towards Curt and Jacob. He realized that regardless of whether he was up down here or up there, his role had not changed.
 
Luna felt relieved as soon as Denver stepped between Sombra and the Braixen. Even though she hated that conceited Braixen as no one could have imagined, she certainly didn't want to start a uncontrolled fight against her. Sombra was now next to her, obviously frustratedbecause of her failed battle. One of the biggest troubles with owning a bunch of dark types was that the most of them would constantly be searching for a fight.

"I-I apologize again, I'm sure you picked up on this before, but Denver can be a little impulsive" apologized Auryia while pushing her pokemon aside. "Oh, no... It's okay." answered Luna glancing at Sombra "This girl over here is obviously worse." the Umbreon held her head high as if that was a compliment.

" I have to say though, your Braxien, June, right, is very clever to figure out how a Pokeball works so quickly, it's a shame you have another battle coming up so soon, if not, I'd recommend you battle again, my father said someone is only your enemy until you fight them a second time...not entirely sure what that meant though..."

So... they weren't ofocially enemies? Because she already felt it that way, no need for a second fihgt to consider that a fact. Maybe Gerald and his Braixen were the ones starting that rivalry with the magazine issue. Yep, that was it.

"We're enemies?" Luna raised her right eyebrow. Wasn't it obvious already? That wasn't a question she was going to answer out loud! "I mean...It's not for a while. I'm up for one more battle if you want Luna."

"Oh yeah! I wouldn't mean having one more..." but no fight was going to take place... not at least for the moment. The Serperior girl, Bailey arrived to interrupt the possible battle.

"Umm...well... Hey guys. What's up? And who was that?" Gerald fastly answer her question before giving Luna the chance to.
"And I was just asking Luna to a rematch, to get to know each other better...or something."

'To get to know each other a little better..." such a stupid boy.

"Oh! By the way! Both of you had a fantastic battle! I was awestruck! Gerald, good luck in the next round." Great. Another one wanting to remind her she had lost. He just had luck! She would have obviously won if it wasn't for the poisoning... " Luna, I wish I had your Mismagius. Like, I'm not joking. She looks so strong, yet mysterious and well trained." Those last words left her out of guard. Was she blushing? Oh no, how embarrasing.

"Oh... well... thanks." she answered without looking at Bailey "Didn't you just hhad a fight back in the arena? How did it go?" asked Luna changing the topic.
 
Curt sat alongside the rest of his team, watching as Deo made his way onto the arena for his first match of the tournament. Curt made a comment about how surprised he was about how quick he got there, which prompted Embertail to make a response about how he and Jasper should have crossed paths with Deo when walking back to the bleachers. Curt was a little upset that he didn't see Deo, he kinda wanted to wish the man luck in his next match, but he wasn't terribly surprised that he missed seeing him, Curt knew how easy it was for him to space out, it was something he had trouble with since he was a kid, heck, probably since he was born. Ah well, nothing he could do about it, best they could do now but sit back and cheer along with the rest of the crowd as they watched the battle unfold.

Jasper was sharing a seat with Embertail (both Pokemon were small enough that they could both fit relatively comfortably in the surprisingly large seats the stadium provided), even under her Skull-mask one could tell she was beaming as a result of the matches outcome, and was telling the rest of the team about some of the finer details of the battle that they might have missed from the bleachers. Curt smiled at the Cubone, he was proud of how far Jasper had come, from living in his families garage as a refugee to competing, and winning, in tournaments such as these was no small feet for any Pokemon. Heck, Curt was even a tad bit proud of himself, never in all his life did he ever thing he'd be at this high of a level as a Pokemon trainer, granted, he wasn't sure if that was more a credit to his skill or his teammates skill (he wasn't too proud to admit that he relied a bit too much on Whips or Flare to pull them through a tough match at times). His thoughts on his skill as a trainer lead him to thinking about his own up coming matches and his potential opponents, from what he seen so far, it definitely wasn't going to be an easy tournament, but at the same time Curt felt somewhat confident the he and his team had a reliable shot against anyone they saw fight here so far...except.

"Churt?", Embertail growled, giving his friend an look that one would almost call "worried" if it wasn't for the smile on the Charmanders face. Curt straightened himself up, he didn't realize that, in his deep train of thought, the he ended up grimacing almost involuntarily.

"Oh, it's nothing Embertail, just thinking about all the trainers and Pokemon here, uh, you know, for our next battle and what not", Curt said giving his friend a smile to assure him that was all that was going on. Embertail looked Curt dead in the eye's for a moment, but quickly emitted a cheerful growl and went back to talking with Jasper about the fight she just had. Curt let out a sigh, he should be worrying to much, as much prestige winning this tournament would get him, it was still just a tournament. Besides, he won the last tournament he was in, but oddly enough, thinking about the Slateport Tournament just made him want to win this tournament all the more. He and his team had come so far in the past year, they owed it to themselves and each other to give it all they had in this tournament and shoot to win it all!
 
"Didn't you just have a fight back in the arena? How did it go?"

Her heart sinking slightly, Bailey put on the most real smile she could as she tried to recall the events of the battle. She kept telling herself that her loss was a good thing, winning would be better, but a loss was good too. But when she was face with someone asking her how it went, honestly, without seeing the battle, Bailey found herself a tad bit disappointed from the reaction that spurred within her. Cosmo, feeling moderately tired, leafed her way through Bailey's bag and finally found her Pokeball, and in a flash of red, the large Serperior was gone. The young traveler looked behind her, expecting to see Cosmo even though she had just saw the Pokemon go into her Pokeball. 'Wow...talk about out of it Bailey. Just answer the gosh darn question.' She told herself.

"Ah well, my opponent emerged victorious. I'm not too overly upset," she paused, "I don't think," Bailey added uncertainty, "...but Yarrow, my Zoroark, he did very well keeping up Cosmo's illusion for the time he did before my opponent figured it out. I slipped up- I told a 'Serperior' to use Shadow Ball. To be honest, I'm not even sure if my opponent ever figured out- she was really hard to read." Bailey glanced down, reliving the moments where she tried to predict how Phi's next move would go, or when she tried to figure out if Phi felt pressured, but her battle style, paired with that overly energetic, but strong, Manetric, was so coordinated, but at the same time, somewhat random.

"Oh, but a plus to loosing is that I don't have to face the victors. I consider myself strong, but some of the people who advanced... I'm a little frightened, but in awe, of their connection with their Pokemon." Bailey winced at her wording, quickly trying to make up for it. "See, Luna, I believe I would loose to you as well." She thought of something to possibly lift her spirits for the moment. "Oh, but put my rival in front of me and boom. I'm winning no matter what. I'm serious- I will die before loosing to that guy." Bailey smiled to herself, but then told herself to stop talking. She always did that, after a battle or exciting moment she has to let out every single thought or feeling, but now was not the time. The traveler was certain that Amaryllis, Aster, Sunny, and Lavender would be thrilled to listen later though.

"So, do you guys plan to go back to the stadium to watch the last of the matches? Or, does escaping the action sound better?" She asked, wondering what her response to that question would be. Bailey didn't really like watching other's battles, but she wanted to support the people she met yesterday in their matches, so at that moment she was very indecisive about what to do after talking to Luna and Gerald.
 
Luna could notice a small left of disappointment in Bailey's eyes after her question. It was that special absence of light, she hadn't only seen that, she had felt it, and it drove her crazy, and mad, and angry, and... it was right like what she was feeling right in that moment. The absence of victory, that was it. That voice caught in her head wondering "If I had done that...".

Bailey's Serperior got into his Pokeball, surprising his trainer who continued to answer the question with a fake smile. "Ah well, my opponent emerged victorious. I'm not too overly upset," she paused "I don't think," there was doubt in her voice, but even when it was obvious she continued to talking "...but Yarrow, my Zoroark, he did very well keeping up Cosmo's illusion for the time he did before my opponent figured it out. I slipped up- I told a 'Serperior' to use Shadow Ball. To be honest, I'm not even sure if my opponent ever figured out- she was really hard to read."

Illusions? That sounded like a really great strategy she wanted to try someday... even though it wight not work very well keeping in mind that Luna's pokemon were, in it's majority, Dark Types.

"Oh, but a plus to loosing is that I don't have to face the victors. I consider myself strong, but some of the people who advanced... I'm a little frightened, but in awe, of their connection with their Pokemon." she fastly explained "See, Luna, I believe I would loose to you as well."

Luna shuddered after that declaration, she wasn't expecting for someone to say something like that in such a calm way. Anyways, of course she felt flattered.

"Oh, but put my rival in front of me and boom. I'm winning no matter what. I'm serious- I will die before loosing to that guy." an excited tone grew in her voice after those words "So, do you guys plan to go back to the stadium to watch the last of the matches? Or, does escaping the action sound better?"

"Well... not completely sure about what to do now. Maybe I should go and see how battles are going even if it's just to yell at people," Luna grinned "That may be nice."
 
June looked up from her magazine once again, glaring at Luna. She didn't like this girl's attitude, and could just...tell she was dissing Gerald. Maybe it was her demeanor towards him, or her own Psychic roots, but this girl was driving her up the wire. Her arm twitched. She knew she shouldn't jump to conflict, but the temptation was killing her. How fast would they back up if she pulled her stick out flaming?

But, she was no feral animal. Stooping down to her enemies Pokemon's level wasn't worth it. If only there was a way to prove her prowess (and Gerald's outside of battle awareness) while giving the girl what she deserved. Maybe an opportunity would pop up soon...

Hey. Who was that? The girl with Serperior...she just came in. Odd. Gerald acted like he knew her...was she there the preivious night? Ugh, whatever. She wasn't important. Not to getting revenge at least. But the Serperior would be a interesting fight, but that was not going to happen. She huffed angrily as she turned her eyes back to a now crumpled magazine, which wasn't even interesting anymore.

-----

Gerald, unlike June, was blissfully unaware of Luna's and June's hostility, he was a more "live in the moment" person. And at the moment, he was weighing the question Bailey asked, which was returning to see the final battles of the night. Luna seemed to be at a similar crossroad, not sure herself. But he was fairly sure his answer.

"I was really just going to relax for the rest of the day, maybe head out to the motel earlier than yesterday. Plus, as the final battles of the day, everyone will want to see it, and I have a feeling that the stadium will be packed. Anyways, I have to pick my other Pokemon than June. The next battles are doubles, so I have to pick one who works well with her. So I can't use my Doublade, I don't know what my opponent has in store, so taking my Shedinja is a huge risk...I'm sorry, I started rambling on. Basically no, I'm not doing much. What were you planning on doing, Bailey?" Gerald hated when he started rambling. Hopefully he didn't annoy or offend either of them with his rambling. Last thing he wanted to do was hurt anyone, and while he never was truly hurt by losing, he understood that different people took things other ways.
 
As Deo distanced himself to the back wall, Aiden's blond eyebrows lowered, contrasting greatly with his dark skin. 'Why is he heading back there? Is he attempting divert attention so he can carry out his part of the operation? No, everyone can still see him, including the camera drones. So why?' Despite his doubts, However, the policeman's speculation seemed to be proven correct as the suspect opened his case and grabbed a strange device from inside, pressing away at buttons. Meanwhile, the announcer, due to awe from the strange events that had transpired, delivered his introductions late. "As Deo sends out his Breloom, Aiden's Infernape made quite the entrance, wow! But what's this? Deo turned around...and now he's sitting against the stadium wall, occupying himself with something else? Has he been intimidated by his opponent to the point of forfeiting?-But his Pokemon is still on the field!"

As he said this, members in the audience became even more involved, trying to motivate Deo to persevere through cheers or (sometimes harsh) criticism. They came to see a Pokemon battle, so they better darn well see one. Back in the corner, Deo stopped pressing buttons and then held up the device to his ear. After uttering only a few words, however, he placed it back somewhere in his case, shut it, and stood up. He sighed, annoyed. "Of course he has to narrate everything I do...YES, I'm still participating!" he called out before beginning to head back towards the center. Deo was in-fact lying, but he needed to carry on the charade long enough for the battle to begin.

Aiden was sweating now. 'Did he...seriously just do something that suspicious in front of all these people?! Wait...it makes sense that he isn't worried. To prevent panic, the audience members haven't been informed of Team Flare's whereabouts, but that only makes their operation easier.' Aiden spread his legs and clenched his fists in a ready position, determined eyes fixed on his opponent. "If he's involved with Team Flare, then his job isn't over yet. I have to stop him here! READY, IGNIS!!!" He bellowed, and in response the Infernape puffed out his chest and shrieked, the flame on his head bursting into life. Deo was taken aback by the intensity of the fire-type's aura, grief-stricken by what he had sent Echthra out to face. The Breloom smiled, however, a childish, seemingly innocent smile not too different than that of a little girl who just won a stuffed Pokemon at a carnival. The fire monkey's shrill, his type advantage, his anxiousness to beat Echthra to a pulp- these things filled her with a deep joy that she rarely felt outside of battle. On the other hand, the crowd's supporting chants disgusted her. It wasn't because she felt she was being underestimated- she could care less about pride. She simply hated to be loved and loved to be hated, a mindset which has always perplexed and concerned Deo.

The referee standing at the edge of the center line signaled towards each trainer, but Deo wasn't paying attention and had to be acknowledged a second time for assurance that he was ready. Then the referee raised a black and white checkers-patterned flag. "This is the final battle of the first round of the Grant Kalos Festival Tournament. Deo from Rustburo City will be facing against Aiden from Veilstone City. Deo will receive the first move. Best of luck to both competitors. Aannd...BEGIN!" Like a dog Pokemon anxiously waiting at the front door for a walk outside, the crowd members seemed to barely hold in their excitement as the referee pulled down the flag, officially initiating the battle. They turned towards Deo in anticipation of his first command...

...Several seconds passed- nothing. Deo just stood there, breathing heavily. Eventually, he gulped, and a slight smile began to firm. "Hehe, first move..." Something about that statement made his heart pump faster and then triggered a nervous chuckle. Contrary to his state of mind, Deo locked his hands behind his back as if calm and relaxed, continuing to do nothing. Murmurs of confusion in the audience began to rise in volume, but Aiden somehow understood. "Is it possible that you're handing me the initiative? In that case, I'll be glad to take it! Ignis, Flamethrower!" The Infernape's chest swelled and its cheeks puffed before releasing a concentrated stream of fire at high speeds. Neither Echthra or her trainer reacted at first, but at the last second Echthra burst to the right as the attack passed. At the same instant, Deo once again plopped down, this time right where he stood. "Did he just...sit down again, right at the start of the battle?! HEY!! What're ya doing?!" Aiden yelled towards his opponent on the ground. Deo just pointed lazily to the right of him, towards the Breloom now in pursuit. She was still running perpendicular to Ignis's line of sight just like when she initially dodged the Flamethrower, but she was gradually closing in, as if traveling in a downward spiral with Ignis as the center. Normally, this would be a slow form of approach, but Aiden's distraction had allowed her to shrink the radius considerably. Aiden grimaced. 'Damn. He sat down at the back corner to do those things just so that he could do it again and divert my attention from the battle? Is he aware of my intentions?' He growled, not so much from frustration as much as to regain focus. He didn't even have the time to contemplate how the Breloom acted without trainer orders. "Ignis! Don't let her get close! Catch her with Flamethrower!" Ignis nodded and fired another stream of fire shockingly powerful for a Pokemon that was just as well equipped for physical combat as ranged combat. Ignis used his own insight to use Echthra's direction of movement and the flame's speed to estimate when and where his attack could make impact. Unfortunately, Echthra simply sped up to keep the attack behind her. Apparently she wasn't running at full speed. Ignis wasn't worried, though. All he had to do was keep following her with the attack until she is forced to reach full speed and can no longer outrun it, but Ingis had to do so before the Breloom could get in close and make a move, which would erase his advantage in range. What the flaming ape didn't realize was that this was exactly what Echthra wanted.

As Echthra circled around Ignis she continued to gradually pick up the pace to avoid the flames, and Ignis thus had to turn his head faster in response. Flamethrower was an attack that bent more and more the faster it changed direction as opposed to something like Hyper Beam, which remained a solid beam. Each foot of the Flamethrower only travels in the direction it was initially fired, so as Ignis spun, the flames began to form a spiral-shaped pattern as well and became increasingly parallel to Echthra's direction. Just as Echthra reached her top speed and was about to be caught by the fire attack, however, she dug her foot into the ground and used her agility to make a sharp 90-degree turn. The Breloom was now perpendicular to the flame and ran straight through it. Even after the mere instant she was inside, she emerged slightly scorched due to her grass-typing. She was now sprinting straight towards Ignis, who was still turning and firing his attack in what was now the wrong direction. The attacker was now becoming the attacked, and Ignis turning his head faster to adjust to Echthra's speed had made it impossible to readjust the Flamethrower to her change in direction. All Aiden could do was react to whatever command the Breloom received next.

...But it never came. Nevertheless, Echthra lunched forward to attack, fist reeled back and surrounded by a green aura. Aiden was too astonished to do anything, but Ignis at least attempted to block whatever came on his own by beginning to cross his arms in front of him. Echthra was surprised that the Infernape was able to react so quickly to an attack with no forewarning, but she was prepared for this. She thrust her clawed fist forward far earlier and further back than Ignis had expected. Echthra's arm stretched a distance twice her own height before her fist collided with the unsuspecting Infernape's cheek. The move was Drain Punch, as Echthra's burn marks had faded when it made contact. Ignis reeled back, but he remained on his feet, and after sliding a few meters he recuperated. While relieved that his Pokemon didn't seem to receive serious damage from the attack, Aiden was shocked. "He...didn't give a single order. His Pokemon acted completely on her own! Has he given up and left his Breloom fend for herself, or is there more to this? Regardless, it sure caught me by surprise."

A sizeable chunk of the audience seemed to believe the former as Deo lay still on the dirt.
"His Pokemon is doing well so far, but he still won't stand up?"
"What's he doing? IS HE IN THE BATTLE OR NOT?!"
"Take after your Pokemon and don't give up so easily!"

Deo smiled at an ironic thought as the stadium increased in volume. "Heh, sorry that I'm receiving all the hatred you love so much, Echthra." When he had compared being down there to back up in the seats, this is what he meant: He was but another audience member; the only difference was that he was witnessing his own Pokemon fight. Deo wasn't going to do anything, though, and this was what he was being judged for: something he had done throughout his entire career as a trainer.

After knocking Ignis away, Echthra almost instantly closed the gap and began striking the Infernape with a barrage of Mach Punches before Aiden could even give a command. They were much faster than Drain Punch but far weaker, doing little more than annoy her larger opponent. Aiden smiled, however. "Ignis! Counter with your own Mach Punch!" The Infernape's arms reached back before taking off. He let out a high-pitched roar as the two fighting types exchanged blows, a roar that increased in volume as the flying fists increased in quantity: 4...8...12...Soon they were both punching so fast that they appeared to lack arms at all- only dozens of floating fists colliding with vicious energy, kicking up dirt around them. While Echthra's springy arms provided greater reach as well as faster punches, Ignis's were stronger and would likely hurt like Hell, so she was forced to go on the defensive, using two punches to block each of his. Even still, Echthra had to ground her tail for support just so she wouldn't be completely overpowered. She couldn't keep this up for long, so she had to act quickly. She released a strange gas from her tail that her opponent didn't notice, then she leaned back, shifted all her weight on her tail, and lifted her legs into the air. Echthra was going for a drop kick, but her weight combined with the force of her and Ignis's punches placed great strain on her tail, even though she uses it this way on a regular basis.

Aiden clenched his fist in excitement; it was obvious that Ignis was enjoying this little contest. Also, after what their opponent had done before, he was observing the Breloom more closely and was able to catch her attempting something else. "Strafe and use Fire Punch!" Hearing the enemy trainer's words, Echthra cursed herself for not moving more quickly, but that was hard to do while simultaneously trying to balance herself. Regardless, it was too late now, so she had to attack. The best she could do was adjust the kick based off of what direction Ignis would dodge, but that wasn't specified. Left or right? It was clear that her opponent's trainer was no idiot, but Echthra could simply use Ignis's arms. If the left fist was was reeled back, he would need to strafe right in order to throw a more effective punch. If the right one was reeled back, then he would need to strafe left.

The exchange of blows ended abruptly, and Echthra saw the Infernape's left fist wind up. He was going to dodge right, which meant she had to aim the drop kick to her left! Using her tail like a spring, Echthra launched forward and extended her clawed legs to the right, where she thought Ignis's abdomen would be. However, just then his left arm lowered, his right one was set ablaze, and he dodged left instead! A Fake Out?! Her kick missed entirely, and her forward momentum only enhanced the pain as her gut met with a devastating Fire Punch. Echthra caught a glimpse of Ignis's grin of delight for outsmarting his foe before she went flying. What a absurdly powerful blow...she was already on the verge of fainting! As the audience cringed, Deo didn't react in the slightest; he wasn't surprised. All of this was just one big experiment, and he didn't carry much hope of making it past the first round let alone against such an unfavorable opponent.

As Echthra landed and began tumbling along the ground like a ragdoll, she heard another command in the distance (Had she really been hurled that far?!): "Flame Wheel!" She wasn't able to see until she had slowed down enough to stop rolling, but when she did the fiery wheel of death was right in front of her. With instinctive reflexes that surpassed those of her own consciousness and a will that overcame her weak state, Echthra pushed off to the right, narrowly dodging a direct hit. Unfortunately, a grazed impact still sent her spinning before she landed with a thud. Aiden's eyes were filled with determination. "Ignis, end this. Flame Wheel again." Without uncurling, the Infernape made a sharp turn and charged back towards Echthra. Weakly opening her eyes, Echthra spotted some of the closer audience members in the corner of her eye. Their expressions were full of disappointment and distain towards Deo but pity towards her, a sympathy that pissed her off to no end.

Just then, Echthra's eyes burst open, bloodshot. Only she deserved such hatred that Deo was recieving! She would beat that stupid monkey into such a broken pulp that the crowd would surely be disgusted! She stood up slowly, opened her mouth, and a green light sparked in front of it. It was Seed Bomb, and it grew and gradually formed into a oval or "seed". When she felt it was large enough, Echthra aimed the glowing ball of energy at Ignis and fired. He must have had extremely quick reflexes, though, as he shifted sideways to dodge the attack in an instant. Thankfully, Echthra had a trick. Seed Bomb was a move that exploded upon impact for massive, widespread damage. The downside was that it triggered easily, meaning that even the weakest of ranged attacks could counter it and make it fall short of reaching the target. However, Ignis did not know this weakness. The inside of Echthra's mouth glowed green, and this time she fired a storm of small green spheres at high speeds: Bullet Seed. With skill only attainable through countless practice, Echthra used Ignis's speed and position as well as Seed Bomb's in timing her attack. The bullet seeds reached the Seed Bomb right as Ignis zoomed past.

The explosion that followed was magnificent. Despite coming from a grass-type move, a dark cloud of fiery smoke expanded outward, which was followed by a wave of energy that could be felt by the audience. Hurling out from the smoke was Ignis, who for the first time in the match appeared to have received considerable damage. As his previous momentum caused him to tumble along the dirt in her general direction. Echthra took her opportunity. Gathering all the remaining energy she could muster, she dashed towards Ignis. Before he had a chance to recover, Echthra landed a full-power Drain Punch to his stomach as an act of vengeance, twisting her clawed fist deeper for good measure. Perhaps a second later and she would have blacked out, but the energy-draining attack allowed her to stay in the fight. Although he had been knocked back a little further than before, Ignis backrolled back to his feet and immediately took a fighting stance, his expression implying that he hadn't even flinched from the blow. Echthra clenched her teeth. What will it take to down this guy?!

Realizing that the pace of the fight was too fast for him, Aiden made a choice. "Ignis! You're on your own now. Remember your technique, your training!" The Infernape nodded and intensified his stance as his opponent charged at him once again. Their clash resulted in twenty seconds or so of pure martial arts: punches, kicks, throws. They even used their tails as extra limbs to try and gain the upper hand. At first it seemed that Ignis was doing just that given his superior size, strength, and overall better fighting condition. However, he soon began moving sluggishly, allowing Echthra to whack her tail into his jaw. He was becoming increasingly clumsy, as well, wildly missing his attacks and tripping over himself. "What the- Ignis hasn't been that badly hurt, has he?" Aiden contemplated, worried.

With a low kick, Echthra swept her opponent off his feet before he fell on his face. He slowly pushed himself up, but Echthra beat him back down before assaulting him relentlessly. Deo was surprised; perhaps the Infernape was simply playing tough and was more damaged than he let on? Unless...

"I believe the move Spore is the reason behind your Infernape's current state." Aiden shifted towards Deo in surprise; it was the first time his opponent had uttered anything since the battle had begun. "Spore? But...when would enough of the spores be able to enter Ignis to be effective? He's been moving around the entire battle!" Aiden asked. Deo shook his head. "Not the entire match. Echthra must have known that Ignis could easily avoid Spore under normal circumstances. Engaging him in the little game of Mach Punches in the beginning of the match was the only way to keep him still, even though it was so risky that it almost got Echthra K.O.ed. Weighing the options, It makes sense. Ignis surpasses Echthra in every category, so her only chance to win was to approach the situation at a different angle." Deo smiled in triumph as Echthra nodded in response. That meant Deo had successfully evaluated her strategy, something he was getting increasingly better at with all of his Pokemon. "But I'm impressed. Your Infernape lasted an impressive amount of time without going under, although fire-types do tend to be more resistant due to their energetic nature." Deo paused. "Wait, is he STILL awake?!"

Even after all the talking, Echthra was still beating down on her foe, throwing enough Drain Punches to heal almost all her injuries. Ignis must have STILL been conscious and moving, because the referee had not made any sort of call. Echthra got what she wanted, for the audience became far less sympathetic towards her and more so towards her foe. It was unclear as to whether or not this was due to the pure brutality of the assault or the natural tendency to root for the losing side. Regardless, the disgust on their faces formed a disturbingly innocent-looking smile of glee on Echthra's. Aiden, meanwhile, held his head down what appeared to be defeat. That is, until he began to smile as well.

"Blaze."

Suddenly, Ignis's body shook violently and became surrounded in a hot, red aura. Ignis's eyes shot open, blood red, and he sprang to life with a piercing scream, his flaming hair growing increasingly longer until it seemed to touch the sky. Flames exploded outward before Echthra could even back off, scorching the entire front side of her body and blasting her into the air. "Blaze Kick." Aiden commanded in a voice more intense than usual. Within an instant, the flame-engulfed monkey bolted up to the Breloom at blurring speeds and delivered a spinning kick that was followed by a trail of fire. The kick seemed to have created a shock wave upon impact with Echthra's face, and she soared FAR and FAST. Deo, still sitting where he had been since the match began, was lucky enough to witness the mutilated body of his Pokemon hurtle past him but a few feet away, close enough to smell the embers burning the grass-type. Time slowed down at that moment, but Deo didn't turn his head to look. He couldn't look- not because he feared what he would see, not because he was ashamed, not because he didn't care, not because he had given up. No, he didn't look because it wasn't his fight. It was Echthra's. As much as a quick glance was enough to imply his worry, his involvement, his existence, as if he was going to step in, as if he was going to help. No, Deo was not going to be a factor in this fight; he never was. Thus, he didn't look...for HER sake, HER pride, HER rights.

Echthra crashed into the wall on the opposite side of the stadium. After a few seconds, the Breloom slowly peeled off of the sizable crater she had created and flopped on the ground face-first. She wasn't moving, completely limp. The referee waited a few more seconds for confirmation, but then he lifted the flag on Aiden's corner. "Breloom is una-" Thankfully still looking at Echthra, he noticed her grunt painfully and force herself back to her feet, using the back wall for leverage. She seemed barely able to stand, but she WAS standing. Aiden sighed, slightly annoyed that the battle hadn't ended as quickly as he would have hoped. His next command sounded relaxed and casual. "Alright, Flare Blitz." With an attitude conflicting that of his trainer, Ignis screamed again, flames growing even larger and brighter. He then charged towards Echthra at full speed, generating so much force that the ground ripped up beneath him.

Although she had made it to her feet, Echthra knew that she couldn't move and wouldn't be able to dodge that attack, and Deo soon realized this as well. Above it all, however, they were both happy. For Echthra, seeing the blood-shot eyed Infernape fueled with rage towards her was strangely calming, as if everything was right with the world. For Deo, he was just happy that his Pokemon was happy. Despite her questionable nature, Deo felt it right to support Echthra's likes and dislikes, regardless of how much they worried him. Both content, Echthra and Deo waited for the end...

...But then Ignis's eyes shifted away from his target and towards the back of his head, eyelids beginning to close. The influence of Spore becoming to much for him to handle, the Infernape stopped running and fell asleep. Although, this didn't mean that he stopped moving; his legs simply lifted off the ground like an airplane's wheels taking off, but the aircraft took flight. This time, however, there was no pilot. Ignis was traveling so fast that all falling asleep did was make him a flying monkey. His body was still heading towards Echthra, but he strangely swerved to the right and off course from his target, but unfortunately not from the wall. When he collided with it face-first he had created an far larger crater than Echthra had, one large enough to rattle the crowd behind it and cause them to fear for their own safety. When the dust cleared, the flames surrounding Ignis had extinguished themselves, and his hair had turned to normal. That, and he was in quite the awkward position, face implanted in the stone and legs bending upwards. The experienced referee must have noticed something, because he barely even waited this time. "Infernape is unable to battle. The winner is Deo and Breloom!"

Standing all the way on the opposite side of the field, Aiden had to walk to the center line in order for Ignis to be within the range of his Pokeball. Deo returned Echthra right as she was about to collapse before joining with his opponent, laughing awkwardly. "Hehe, all that strategy, and we still only won because of pure luck." Aiden's defeated expression changed into that of surprise and confusion at Deo's statement. Also, he noted how short Deo actually was. "Huh?" Deo scratched the back of his head rapidly. "Had the Spore kicked in earlier, Ignis wouldn't have taken himself out from the recoil and would have eventually woken up to finish Echthra off. Any later, and he would have landed the Flare Blitz and won, or at the very worst knock himself out as well for a tie. Boy, wouldn't THAT have been strange for the tournament!" Aiden just blinked as Deo continued. "In my eyes, you were the clear victor, Aiden. Things just didn't play out that way, though." Deo held out his hand to his opponent. After a moment, Aiden shook it, smiling. He felt guilty, though. This guy didn't seem like a criminal at all, and there was no supporting evidence to prove otherwise. Besides, he could see how young Deo appeared up close. Aiden was just being paranoid, surely.

Having felt that he had said what he needed to, Deo nodded to himself and walked off towards the stadium's exit. He's been receiving varied glances from the audience, so he thought it best to wait a while before returning to his seat. When he passed through the main gate Deo was welcomed with a fresh open breeze of the evening, which was slightly surprising given that he had spotted a nearby Skuntank disappear through another gate. He shrugged, concluding that they must have had the option to not stink up every area they visit. Ahead of him Deo spotted a series of benches and some magazines, and it looked like it was already occupied...by some of the other tournament contestants: Luna, Gerald, and Bailey, if he remembered correctly. Not having the social skills to strike up a conversation, Deo just sat down on a nearby bench, grabbed a magazine, and pretended to read it. Dispite the fact that it was getting late, however, he did hope to exchange a few words.
 
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(OOC: FOR THE SAKE OF GETTING THE PLOT STARTED, I'M MOVING THE RP ON TO THE SEMI-FINALS)

"AND WITH DEO AND ECHTHRA'S VICTORY THE FIRST ROUND HAS COME TO A CLOSE, BUT DON'T WORRY, THE TOURNAMENT IS FAR FROM OVER, THERE ARE STILL MANY PARTICIPANTS EAGER TO WIN THE DE LA VIE ET LA MORT CUP AND THE 5000000 GRAND PRIZE !!!". the announcer roared, his bow tie almost looked to be shaking under the power of his voice, the crowed cheered as he gestured towards the massive trophy. Standing at almost three feet tall, the trophy stood tall as its blue and red coloring glistened in the sun, a massive white gem shining brightly at its center. Every trainer there knew the road to win that Cup was going to be hard and grueling, but that was why many of them entered in the first place. It was the heat of a fierce battle, the thrill of claiming victory from a seemingly unwinnable battle, that was the driving force behind a true trainer. Of course, the handsome trophy and the prize money weren't bad motivators either.


____________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Well, we made it guy's, the Semi-Finals", Curt said as he kept his eye's glued on the tournament board, waiting to see who they would be paired up against. Their last fight came close, but Raviel was able to pull out a quick and sneaky Pin Missile at the last minute on their opponents...well, they weren't really sure what the Pokemon was called, it was some bizarre, colorful fish-like Pokemon, either way, they managed to net themselves the victory. Raviel held his head high as they walked back to their seat and were greeted by the cheers of their teammates. They didn't have long to rest, as the number of contestants dwindled further down the time between rounds got shorter and shorter, and it wasn't long before the announcer began speaking and it looked like they'd have to fight again.

"AND WE ARE NOW READY TO BEING THE SEMI-FINALS OF THE DE LA VIE ET LA MORT TOURNAMENT! OUR SEMI-FINALIST TRAINERS AND POKEMON HAVE FOUGHT LONG AND HARD TO GET THIS FAR, BUT ONLY ONE CAN WALK AWAY AS THE GRAND CHAMPION OF DE LA VIE ET LAAAA MOOOORRRTTT!!!!", the announcer cried over the roar of the crowd, "AS I'M SURE YOU ALL KNOW, THE NEXT ROUND WILL CONSIST STRICTLY OF DOUBLE BATTLES IT WILL BE EXCITING TO SEE HOW THE SEMI-FINALISTS ADAPT TO THIS CHANGE IN BATTLE STYLE!!!!" The screams of the crowd was almost deafening, but the energy the announcer emitted was infectious, even Curt almost felt like cheering along with the crowd, but his racking nerves kept him planted on his seat. Even Whips seemed a bit fidgety from what Curt could see of him, he hadn't used him yet, but he knew his time was coming soon, but Curt knew the Dragon well, and he could tell Whips was more excited then anxious.

"AAAAAND FOR THE FIRST ROUND OF THE SEMI-FINALS, WE HAVE......PHI OF KALOS AND CURT OF CHERRYGROVE!!!!!", the announcer yelled over the cheer's of the crowd and Curt felt his lungs let out a breathe. It felt like they just got done battling and now they were being thrown back into one, and against that Phi girl of all people! He saw how she handled Bailey, that girl was in no way easy to beat, and judging by how she handled herself so far in the tournament, Curt knew he she was going to be his toughest opponent yet. He knew he needed to us a balanced team, Whips was an obvious choice, he needed his top Pokemon for this fight, as for his second choice, a Fire type would be great, and a ranged attacker would be better, thankfully, he knew a teammate who could fulfill both niches. His plan set, Curt stood up and got ready to address his team.

"Alright guy's, looks like it's going to be Whips and....uh, Flare, how many of those have you had?", Curt asked, as he looked over toward the fire fox, who seemed to be swaying slightly in her seat as she raised her cup to her mouth and took a long sip. Flare still had her cup in her telekinetic grasp but even that seemed to be a little shaky, and Curt was only know realizing she should have finished what was left of her cup initially before the first round even ended.

"(Wha? Oh, uh, I think this is....four...no, wait, counting this on is five, yep, defiantly five...)", Flare said, her words slightly slurred as she went for another sip, a sip she wouldn't have as Curt yanked the cup from her weaken magical grasp. This was great, Flare was in no shape to battle now, Raviel just got done and needed a moment to relax, Lockjaw fought the round before Raviel and, though he could manage a battle, he still looked tuckered out (his stage fright almost got the better of him and nearly cost the match, but he pulled through like he always did) . As for Jasper, well, she hadn't fought since the first round, and though she was raring to go, literally, she was literally hopping up and down begging Curt to choose her, she wouldn't give Whips very good type coverage.

"Flare, I think you've had enough,,,,", Curt said to the Kitsune,

"(Wha? No I have not! Everyone, else agree's, right"?), Flare said, turning to look at her fellow Pokemon.

"Eh, rough rad rehnoughf!"
Reah..."
"Blahro!"

"(B-but...Y-you're all...! Hump!)", Flare grunted. Between the confirmations of her teammates, and the shaking in her own head, Flare had to admit that they were right. Though that didn't stop her from giving everyone a quick, but hard glare, Flare was over five-hundred years old, and though she was far from proud, she didn't like it when they treated her like a child. To be fair though, they only treated her like a child when she got like this, so....

"Well, I guess there's only one option left, sorry Jasper but I can't throw out two Pokemon weak to Ice, it's Embertails time to shine!" Jasper gave a small huff in response to Curts rejection, Embertail however practically leapt out of his seat in excitement for the match. Curt felt that maybe this was for the best, Embertail and Whips were the only ones who hadn't fought yet (Flare fought in the round after Jasper) and he didn't want anyone left out of this tournament, besides, Embertail and Whips hadn't fought together since Whips evolved into a Dragonite. It was something Embertail was obviously looking forward too, and though Whips certainly wouldn't show it, they knew that Whips was probably looking forward to fighting along side Embertail too. Quickly downing the remainder of the contents in Flares cup (just a little something for his nerves, that's all) he and Embertail began to make their way down to the arena.

The setting sun set quiet the backdrop for the upcoming battle, it's deep yellow and red tint cast an almost hypnotic picture over the sky, infusing the clouds with its intoxicating colors. Embertail and Curt gave themselves just a moment to admire the Sunset as they walked onto the arena, their was still a good amount of daylight, so the stadiums lights had not been turned on yet. The soft floor of the stadium gave some slight slack under their feet as they stepped on and waited for their opponent to appear, they weren't kept waiting long as Phi made her way onto the field soon after they arrived. Curt and Embertail watched as she selected her Pokemon, the moment they were done Embertail hoped onto the battlefield as Curt looked over to his Dragon companion.

"ALRIGHT WHIPS, IT'S YOU AND EMBERTAIL", Curt cried out to the bleachers. A moment later a shadow was casted over the audience, hastily followed by a loud "THUMP" as Whips landed hard on the arena next to Embertail, sending the Charmander a few inches in the air, Embertail's expression never changed from "blissfully patient" even while he was in the air. Whips however, gave a hard glare at Phi, though Embertail's facial expression rarely deviated from "happy" of "goofy", Whips made no attempts to hide what he saw from Phi or her Pokemon. He knew the power this girl and her teammates possessed, and he knew this wasn't going to be an easy match, still, for the Dragonite, that made things all the more exciting.

"Alright then Ms. Phi, we're ready when you guys are!", Curt said as rolled his shoulders, as though loosening up for a match that he was going to fight in. Even from where they stood, it seemed like they could almost make out the whispers and shocked exchanges that were running through the audience. Dragonite were extremely rare and extremely powerful Pokemon, in fact, many people came to this tournament to see rare and powerful Pokemon like Whips. It was just that more then a few people didn't expected a trainer to pair up a Pokemon as powerful as a Dragonite with a Charmander of all Pokemon(heck, Curt was willing to bet nobody expected a trainer like him to have a Pokemon like Whips, not that he blamed them)! But they all knew better, Embertail was going to show them all what he was made of!
 
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How did he get here?

Gerald never thought he'd acheive this height...so he repeated the question, how did he get here? Luck? Or was he actually...nah. It was likely luck. He shouldn't have landed forty percent of those Secret Swords, gotten lucky with the clutch Protects, or even that one round where he miraculously landed the Will-O-Wisp and Attract on that Mamoswine. Luck, in its pure form...

He stopped daydreaming to stare at his Party of Pokemon. He found a secluded little park, with enough room for his rather varied team to fit. Looking at his team, he noted how exhausted two members were in particular. Million and Switchblades. The Scolipede's yellow eyes were glazed over, looking ready to close at a moments notice. Scrapes and bruises marked body, the two antennae twitching at the slightest movement. The dual swords were floating close to the ground, which was rather out of character for them, being supported by their tassels. Like Million's, their eyes were drooping and looked tired. Not exactly glazed over, but still the point remained.

On the other side of the coin, June was yet again engrossed in a magazine, this one was fairly recent, and quite gripping at times, she had to note. The fox hadn't seen much battling since the second round, leaving the harder work of the job for the powerhouses. Meanwhile, his Lopunny and Shedinja saw little to no action in the field. Well...Gerald didn't have much of a choice in these upcoming battles.

"Alright, executive decision time. You two take a rest." He returned the megapede and blades, in a flash of dull red light. "As for the rest of you, I think it's your time to shine."

June looked up from her magazine, sighing. She supposed a bit of fighting would be fine, nothing too terribly difficult would occur, and she didn't have to be paired with the blades, so there was that. At worst she'd get paired with the deadbeat Shedinja, who didn't react to the news...at all. It continued staring off into space. However, Puff seemed to dislike the fact he'd have to fight! Like a little child, he turned his back to Gerald and folded his arms.

"Hey now, you haven't even fought today! You can get out there and do a bit of battling." The rabbit turned his head, then unfolded an arm ti gesture towards Empty. "Shedinja a tad risky to use with out many Pokemon. Listen, Puff. We aren't going to win sitting around. The prize is five million Pokedollars, which is more than I've made my whole life. You want to be lazy? Do it once we win or lose. You can take a nice long nap, laze around, maybe I'll even get you something to eat." Alright, he was convinced. The bratty bunny turned, still looking a tad upset about having to participate, but he still got what he wanted in the end.

"Good. Now let's get going, I want to know about our next competitor, and maybe even catch the battle. Half of it at least."

And with that, June closed the magazine, returning it to her tail, which was quite cluttered. The crumpled magazine from earlier was still there, along with her stick, and then the new magazine, not to mention other objects of interest she picked up weeks before. She didn't want to start the fight by lighting her brand new magazine on fire, that's for sure. She began to follow Gerald towards the colosseum, joined by Puff, who was taking out his grumpiness on Empty, the cicada shell trapped between his hands, never showing any emotion of the sort, sans a slight chuckle now and then. Maybe he saw what was coming.

It wasn't too long until Puff tripped over a rock, falling flat on...Empty, since the Lopunny never released the cicada remains from his hands. This made the rabbit more grumpy, even after Gerald and June came to their aid. You see, Lopunny have strong and fast legs. Most rabbits were blessed with such a gift. So when a Lopunny kicks something, it goes far. Especially a rock the size of a boot sole. So when Puff kicked that rock into a crowd of people without realizing it, and heard a distinct "Ow!" He instantly knew he messed up. So did Gerald. And June. But not Empty, who was looking an opposite direction.

"Uh...act casual! June, give us magazines!"

The fox quickly snatched the crumpled magazine and handed it to Puff. It was illegitable chicken scratch to him, but it would help. She began reading the new one, leaving Gerald with...nothing. So he grabbed Empty, and acted to be engrossed by the Shedinja and completely unaware of his surrondings. This plan had to work. Totally. No flaws in it at all. Maybe no one would even come out. Yeah, he was lucky so far, just needed a bit more luck.
 
"Well."

Phi's whole cloak was soaked with water, the cold liquid seeping into her shirt as if trying to possess the thin fabric. Her mouth was ajar with the word as it hung in the air with a defeated sigh, and she was holding a half full, crinkly, store bought bottle of water in her hand, just above her lips. The lip of the bottle was tilted slightly upwards in an exaggerated attempt at holding the water inside it, as if she had been drinking but quickly decided to stop. The girl licked her dry lips, looking down at her partner.

His tired gaze held mild amusement, and it lingered on her soaked shirt in a slightly accusatory manner. The girl paused, deciding to defend her situation in an attempt at grasping the dignity that was quickly fleeing her. Her voice was light and lilting, slightly dreamy in its woolly tone as it feigned a harsh demeanor.

"I have a right to accidentally spill water on myself. Don't judge."

He blinked slowly, and grinned.

"Well- look, I was just thirsty, and then there was a cloud up there that looked just like a Fletchling and there was a Fletchling swarm flying next to it and I thought it was really cool! I have a right to be distracted by awesome symbolism made by nature!" The girl's clouded eyes seemed to break from their dream for a moment as the girl argued, swinging her arm up into the air in a defensive gesture as if it would prove her point. The water bottle tipped in her hand, and the rest of the water promptly fell into the girls lap. She licked her parched lips in envy of the cloth, staring accusingly at the Skuntank that was lying on the ground in front of her.

"You did that on purpose."

He blinked, widened his smile, and swung the tip of his tail lightly from side to side, the action ever so slightly feebler than normal, revealing his exhaustion. Guilty as charged.

She looked down at her clothes, the water slowly soaking further into the threads, and then buried her hands in her face.

"I'm going to have to buy a new one from that vendor."

He nodded.

"... I really need to start bringing my own water to these things."

He grinned, sitting up a bit as if to ask her something, his paws lightly tapping the floor as he held in laughter. She peered through her fingers at the creature, pondering for a moment on the obscure nature of sight, such that if she placed her fingers in just a way, they would disappear all together and her mind would make up the rest of the picture for her. At least, that's what seemed to be happening. She secretly wished that would work with larger things too- like the sunset from last night. Just imagine the splendor it could have been if only the buildings hadn't muddled with the image, broken it and shattered it. Sometimes Phi just wanted everything to be full and complete and serene, no jagged edges nor splintered visions. And then the girl thought of the raindrops, and how they dispersed, stretching thin to the point of no return in a sort of marvelous solemnity.

Could it be possible that there was a beauty in being broken?

... no.
There was too much hurt involved for there to be beauty. Too much love- a picture of such would be splashed with such vibrant darkness that it would just be an imperfect muddle of ugliness... and ugly wasn't beautiful, but cruel and cold and messy. Everyone had a drive for perfection. No one had a drive for becoming broken.

A low growl interrupted her thoughts, and she looked again through the bars of her fingers at Ai. He was looking expectantly at her, as if searching for permission, and she could tell his endeavors at holding in his amusement were weakening as they awaited their release. She sighed, and folded deeper into her wet clothes. "Go ahead..."

A sharp, deranged sound struck the air as he began to chortle, as if in victory. She couldn't help but smile at the eerie, childish noise that pricked the air as if it was a series of sharp, needle-like mallets. It was a sound of the past. Of foolish joy. Of a sort of twisted understanding and contentment. 'I make fun of you, you make fun of me, and maybe we just might make it in this world.'

Of course, any such teasing required she tease back. Phi was inclined to be bitter, and she certainly wasn't going to pass up that chance.

"You are a terrible partner," the dreamy girl muttered loudly, raising her head and putting on an exaggerated pout. He continued to laugh, and Phi was struck by a bolt of silly joy as she fluidly leaped off the bench and knelt at his side. There was an unmistakable grin on her face- likely because it was a serious alarm to a devious plot. He noticed a minute too late as her stained hands moved towards him, the wiry fingers seeking his skin. Oh. Oh wait-

"Tickle tickle tickle tickle!" the girl giggled, voice like a slow, bubbling stream as she tickled beneath his chin, arms, and at the base of his tail, fingers a flurry with her giggles in the light atmosphere. The Skuntank writhed on the floor, coarse, gristly fur chafing the tips of her fingers as he rolled to escape her grasp. The air was filled with his cackles, a note higher than normal in their hysterics, and soon not only was Ai rolling on the floor but Phi was rolling with him. This was some very sweet payback, the girl considered. And there was something... something pure in the silliness of it all. She felt like she could almost grasp what it was, as if it were a creamy cloud hidden deep within her that she just might be able to grab if she tried hard enough. The feeling was like a congealed mist, soapy, slick, and it would break, crumble in her hand if she wasn't cautious enough.

Phi paused to try and grasp the feeling, such was the immensity of the moment. But as she paused, Ai, flailing in hysterics, kicked his back legs into her coat and a hollow tearing sound cut the laughter short.

"What did you..."

The mist she was trying to grasp evaporated in her hands, and Phi's eyes were wide. She knew exactly what had happened without looking. The girl fearfully put her hand into her coat and felt the snowdrop adorned bag, the sanctuary of her past
torn by the force of his claws.

For just a moment, the wind that carried Phi picked up and tore through her as if she were a shadow- barren and flimsy and ghastly. Thin as paper. In that second, her eyes returned forcefully to their dreamy appearance, but they seemed less like they held a dream and more like they held a nightmare. An onlooker who had watched her carefully in their first round battle could almost link how she was looking now back to the wild exhilaration that gripped her in the middle of the battle- but this one was darker. Colder. Ferocious and feeble all at once.

The girl, struggling out of the momentary trance, clasped the strings of the bag in her palms, assessing the damage. It appeared his back claws, blunt yet hardy, had snagged a few threads right at the place where the bag and strap met and torn them loose, but had done nothing to shake the weary sturdiness it still clung to. She was relieved that the bag had not received any amount of great damage and Phi, now regretting her outburst, tried to salvage the joyous and impetuous mood by plucking the empty water bottle from where it lay on the bench and tipping it, as if she were pouring water on herself. Ai twitched his ear, then grinned, realizing that all was forgiven, and the two, together, looked to the sky with a certain amount of relief as they realized that evening was slowly molding the horizon, for the girl was no friend to the sun due to her insistence on wearing her marble coat that trapped the sweat and heat and Kebnia shared in her distaste, the thick clumps of dark colored, grainy fur dealing with the heat worse than she- and both, even, coming from rainy, drizzly climates, such that the sun, now without its former cover, was detestable in its purity as acid rain is detestable in its impurity. That is to say, such unmasking of the sun and sky, though clearer and grander, was impure and poisonous in their vision.

A sort of sigh dampened the air- that of calmness, of the fortitude of their friendship, as a moment respected by both, even if one reveled in the picture and the other cast it an uncaring eye. And then a raucous cheer from the battle fields (which they had left momentarily for some refreshment), akin to that of an unruly mob of joyous Fletchling, tore it thin, like the ticking of a clock pushing them ever forwards, constantly away from the moments of peace and into those of battle and strife.

And yet, there was a sort of peace in those too- a different kind, to be sure, but it certainly existed, molded into being by the exhilaration of working together, of knowing each other in their moment of strife, and this is what Phi prepared to revel in as she stared at her opponent with misty eyes and a queer attitude, that of thought and reminiscence, of not quite being all there as she constantly doted on a single moment, struggling with moving forwards. This was battle, the girl thought. The slowing of time merging with fleet footed action and thought.

It was a sort of way of stopping the world in the vast connection of a singular moment, gasps and cheers and sweat all molding into one memory shared by a million, all slightly different, and yet the core remained the same.

It was time to discover something to remember.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Phi was swarmed with intensity as colors surged into her vision. A sort of darkness swam over the battle field in a bruised ocean of purple from the vigor and solemnity of the coming of battle, but it was confused. Light danced in it, shimmered good-naturedly like a field of stars brought down to earth, winked and giggled in the bruised purple's depths with eagerness and humor. There was a clash on the field, for it seemed dark and yet beneath it shimmered with light. Intensity was underlayed with eagerness, and the darkness shone with light in a sort of subconscious way, as one knows just from a glance that the sneer of an opponent is driven by sport, or the glare of a friend chuckles instead of hisses with deathly intent. The battle field, the girl supposed, was an oxymoron, and such a claim seemed rather fitting, although she couldn't quite pinpoint as to why.

Despite the overwhelming strength of the oxymoronic bruised purple, other colors still inhabited the space- but it was more as if they were the purple, except you couldn't see them unless you looked at it from a different view. The purple was iridescent. When the gaze shifted to the gamy, eager, and goofy Charmander, the purple revealed a yellow, shimmering and sun like. When it wandered towards the trainer, the gazer was struck with a feeling of similarity, for from Curt leaked a warm orange that, when laced with the bright yellow, seemed to meld perfectly within it, as the yellow, too, melded into the orange. When at last it landed with the immensity of awe on the hard, determined dragon, it was clear that the bruised purple was his- and yet there, too, shimmered iridescence, for a determined yet lovely and lighter purple mingled in it like a mist. It was a sort of protective color, lingering in every other one that twisted the field as the bruised purple cloaked it all.

Curt spoke, and her eyes once again lingered on his form as they had on Bailey's and every other opponent's, trying to discover who he was and the metaphors and similes he held. Longer, and the girl could have been transfixed on his color, trying to name how he moved and spoke in just a few words, but the anxiety of the stadium was tense in the air and there was no time- their hushed whispers and swarms of excitement banished all lingering thoughts.

"Just Phi, please," the girl commented, voice a lingering mist as she slipped her hand through the now wet fabric of her coat and into the petrified bag, retrieving at once three items, fingering, for assurance of accuracy, the bruises and scratches of the two pokeballs, each a vault of memory and thought. The third item were the goggles, again, those that she had removed accidentally in her first match, but the tightness of her pinky finger across the strap conveyed a purposefulness not viewed before. She did not retrieve her playing cards- those, as the crowd had surely noticed, were reserved solely for Osh, such was the necessity of randomness in his sporadic fighting style. The action should not have been surprising, too, for Kebnia had fought without them in his few rounds. Phi had bounced between the two Pokemon for the last few battles, confident in Keb's endurance, aware that Osh, having rested for a few rounds, could certainly hold his own again, and fitfully annoyed at herself for entering in a tournament with two unusable Pokemon. Of course, she could have used the two in her hand now, but the combination of Keb's eagerness and a fervent wish to feel again complete surprise left the dreamy girl unwilling.

Changing the goggles into her other hand, Phi swept away thoughts of the previous battles as she balanced the pokeballs in her wiry fingers, opening both at once before quickly stashing the now empty capsules away. A wild and dark green penetrated the bruised purple like tendrils of ivy, growing rapidly, infecting the area as they curled and twisted like snakes. Both of her Pokemon shared almost the same color, the girl thought, the Herdier a stout and hardy emerald, and the Archeops a darker, wilder green, and when the two blended, it was as if the battle field was turned into a wild, raging forest. She pondered on the image, gazing at the two and letting memories, for just a moment, infect her wavering stance and misty vision.

The first to be released, by a millisecond or four, and the one on the right side of the field, was a Herdier. She took her portion of the field with stout solemnity, paws planted, right beneath her shoulders, in the earth with rock-solid intensity, almost ingrained in the field, digging her claws into the ground as a tree digs in its roots. And yet, when she moved, she picked herself up swiftly and easily, breaking the illusion of her connection with the earth. The moment she was out of the pokeball she planted herself with a certain stubbornness, her eyes twitching as they leaped across the field. For a moment, she loped quickly for a few paces to obtain an easier position for the beginning of battle, revealing the swiftness of her stout gait, and the compact nature of her build. Her earth colored fur was sleek on her frame, appearing to be soft and silky, but stray tufts of fluff revealed its thick, compact, and wiry nature, prone to confuse claws and teeth as they saught her skin. Her left ear was flopped over in a softer appearance than the rest of her, contrasting the thick, hardy nature of her build. Despite this, the steely tint in her eyes and the compactness of her build, along with the stout assurance of which she held her head, hinted at her boulder like body and lone wolf nature. She moved swiftly and utterly silently, with a gait like that of a wolf- moving in quick, steady bounds, loping swiftly and easily along, and so compact was her movements that her back, straight and level, lifted only slightly higher into the air, only subtly betraying her swift, easy movement so that she looked less like a dog and more like a phantom, so smooth was her long-legged gait, so consistently straight and level was her back. The few bounds she made betrayed only slightly the swiftness and steadiness in her wolf-like gait, but Phi knew that when she got moving her longer than normal legs and compact yet slightly larger than average build became as swift and silent as a shadow. She ran on velvet paws and utterly disappeared. Such was the namesake of Velvet- the beast with velvet paws. And beast, too, was a fitting description. Somewhere in Velvet's genetics and upbringing, she had become more a wolf than a dog, more a beast than a pet, for the swift and utterly silent lope belonged not to her species but more to that of a Mightyena, and her steel heart and steadyness of foot, achieved often through acrobatic twists and calculated maneuvers, belonged more to Liepard than Herdier, and though her larger body could be attributed to the levels she had gained without evolution, the longer than average legs could not, and even, if you were familiar enough with the species, it became obvious that her snout protruded farther from her face than the chubby, pug-likeness normal to the line of big hearted dogs. Velvet was a queer creation in a species of domesticated kindness, for she was as wild as a wolf, as steady as a rock, and as silent as a shadow.

Phi had always admired Velvet's stout solemnity, if worried for her lone wolf nature and the severeness of her solitude. But Velvet had learned to be good-natured, and the large, long-legged Herdier, though built of rock with a soul of iron, was as protective as Phi of their team mates, and though both build and nature were wildly different than Osh's, she shared an aloof yet competitive spirit that tautened her muscles and loosened her heart.

Phi moved to glance at her other Pokemon, but stopped again on Velvet. The Herdier had a pair of goggles, similar to Phi's yet strangely different, more torn and battered and loved, hung around her neck. She flicked them onto her eyes with a shove of her snout while Phi observed the eerie stillness of her ears, the constant twitching and swiveling of a normal creature absent and instead replaced by stone cold silence and a statue-esque appearance. There was a reason for this, of course- Velvet was deaf. It was a dangerous way to live in such a world, with such an occupation.

But there was a reason Phi respected Velvet more than anyone else in the world, for it was she who taught her not only about the values of being serious, but also how to truly battle. Everything about Phi's battle style was derived from her interactions with Velvet. It was why, too, she tended to use sight instead of sound during battles, why she and her Pokemon always had one eye on each other. It was Velvet who taught them how to fight and for that, Phi and her team held eternal gratitude, because it wasn't just fighting that they were doing- it was understanding and learning and loving all at once.

Phi finally broke her gaze on the Herdier, her dreamy eyes gleaming with the softness of gratitude, and averted it towards the second Pokemon. He was an Archeops, grand and wild, figure imposing on the field. His black eyes were pins, wild and furious, and he hopped awkwardly onto the battle field in the manner that birds do, cocking his head in aviary movements as he emitted sharp, shrill, gurgling cries that bubbled in the air like a white water river. His wings were tucked into his side, and his stance was awkward, timid, and ever so slightly forlorn as he hopped along the ground. He cocked his head, curious.

She called him Sans, after the frightening scene in a comedic play that she nicknamed the "Seven Ages of Man" speech. The last line, she recalled, was this, and this the girl whispered beneath her breath as her gaze wandered over the wild bird's form.

"Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything." [OOC: From William Shakespeare's 'As you like it']

He had been Sans, she considered. Fossilized. Dead. He had lived two lifetimes- one modern and one ancient, and the ancient still lived in him, while the modern confused, intrigued, and frightened him. He had the air of something truly wild. It was hard to find that in this world nowadays- a world of communication and understanding, where people and Pokemon lived alongside one another, but it was evident in Sans. From his wings, huddling jaggedly upon his body, to his stance, bird-like, free, and primitive, to his eyes, bright and darting. He imposed a sense of wildness unto the field- of disorder and chaos, as if he could create discord with just the flapping of his wings, as if he was discord himself, jagged and crude with a wild spirit and a coal heart. But, the girl supposed, he was wise. He taught her to wonder and he taught her to fear- to marvel the unknown, but be wary of it all the same. He had lived two life times, and yet he was the one who taught her how to learn new tricks, and how to learn from the old, and, in a round about way he taught her perseverance, even though it appeared that was what he lacked. After all, perseverance was vital not only in training and battling with him, but simply in finding him. The better part of her journey in Unova had been to find the fossil, and search for a way to restore it. It was curiosity, and perhaps a tad bit of desperation, that strove her to such lengths, and wisdom was granted to her from it. It was queer, the girl considered, how absolute nothing could produce such wonder and awe. Another oxymoron on the field- a nothing that was something.

The girl let her gaze wander for a second more, and then ran her hand through her hair in exhilaration, starting at the top of her forehead and pushing it back. Even the memories of these creatures was enough to shorten her breath in awe and excitement, and to strengthen her wiry, stained fingers in determination. The wind picked up- the wind that carried the girl, and she snapped her own goggles onto her eyes, again marveling at both her own Pokemon and her opponents. The wind surged forwards, and a certain degree of wildness infected the girl's gaze. She was ready for battle.

Phi bowed, one hand on her stomach and the other on her back as she bent at the hips, an act of gratitude and respect that was a habit since she had been a child. The announcer called the beginning of battle, and Phi spoke. Swiftly the words traveled, and yet they were ever so slightly smooth and silky in the memory that constantly swarmed the girl.

"Curt, was it? I do hope you don't mind if I take the first move- or moves, really." She paused, looking for both of her Pokemon's eyes. "Sandstorm, Sans. Velvet..." Phi stopped talking, trailing her words as if she were still speaking, or was going to saw something more. Although she made a few quick, queer movements (a patting on her shoulder, a mouthing of the word 'caution,' a dart of her eyes towards the dragon, and a quick, purposeful flick of her left hand) she left it at that, and let the bird take to the skies.

A short, hopping run and a massive flap of his outstretched wings sent the bird away from the earth and into his world. There was no doubt of his wildness now- he stroked the air with his wings and tossed his head in a shrill cry. Wind tussled the feathers and seemingly tossed him, his flight seeming far from steady as it curled and darted through the air, following the currents that flowed as if he was floating in an ocean of gas. His flight seemed almost effortless, so fluid were his twisting movements as the bird began to pick up speed, the ground seeming to grow beneath him. It did, in fact, grow, dust billowing out of the earth and ravaging the air with nagging teeth, seemingly called into existence both by his call and the rapid spiraling of his flight. At first, there were only a few particles, such that an unknowing onlooker might not even notice them, and then, out of the blue, the air was a shade darker as they swirled, and then, all of a sudden, there was sand everywhere and seemingly out of nowhere, swirling and twisting the world into fitful mirages, following swiftly and wildly the currents of the air just as the Archeops was doing, so that the sand seemed to flow with him- and at that point, one might wonder that the sand was even coming from him. Phi always wondered at the move, for it seemed to call dust and earth out of nowhere, fitfully molding the still air into a tantrum, wild and chaotic. She pulled her coat tight, aware that only seconds more would be needed to complete the move, and she was pleased, because the wild and the chaos of the sandstorm made Sans pleased, and the bird was filled with vigor. Granted, it was not quite set in stone so soon- but even now, it seemed that the world always had been sand and always would be sand, despite the fact that the storm was controlled only to their area, stinging the trainers, too, who stood at its outskirts, but only just scraping the crowd. To control the wild and the chaotic was something she and Sans had spent long on learning, but so it had been done. If Curt's Pokemon could get to him fast enough, she considered, the storm might die, and the girl, long practiced in the art of peering through the shifting sands, kept a watchful eye upon them. The other she reserved for Velvet.

The stout dog's gaze was locked on her as soon as she was released, and it watched as she called the move, familiar with the movement's of mouth and the way that her partner moved. For long hours the two had worked together, and Velvet could argue that she might even surpass Ai in her understanding of Phi, and the same for the girl's understanding of her. Then again, Velvet was always watching- sight was precious, and her eyes were keen. Thus, she saw when Phi, already instinctively understanding the stubborn patience in her eyes, detailed the conditions of her first move- Velvet knew already what it must be, she could feel it pulsing within her, a certain wild ferocity grasping her brain with suggestion as she observed those she must fight. She knew, too, what she thought she must do with the move, but Velvet had long learned not to trust that instinct, for her eyes, though as fleet and steady as her paws, always missed what Phi saw. She was bewildered in that aspect, but- ah, nevermind that, she had plenty of time to ponder elsewhere. Now, the Herdier could feel the wildness of battle seizing her. She would watch and act, and Phi would think, for now.

Quick, plucking gestures of her partner's stained hands gave a message as clear as words, and the long-legged dog, standing as still as a statue, waited for the sandstorm to envelope her. It didn't hurt her, in fact it helped the stout creature, and she had Sand Rush to thank for that.

Phi watched as sand enveloped the velvet pawed beast's body, knowing not just from what she had told the Herdier but also what experience had told the both of them would happen. As soon as the sand misted the dog's figure, she was gone. Utter silence accompanied her form as it slinked through the waves of sand like a shadow, swift and silent. She bounded with a sense of sturdiness, but also of swiftness, and each time the velvet pawed beast leaped she passed immense amounts of ground, so that as soon as someone spotted her, she was gone, like a phantom, an illusion of the sand. She ran in an arcing path, occasionally darting jaggedly off at an angle, and her fangs gleamed in the dark aura of Crunch, the shadowed light gleaming constantly, so that if the opponent knew what to look for, that was their beacon. (It is worth noting here that Velvet, though not strong in attack, had an incredibly wide variety of moves, such was her adoration for versatility, but she preferred to use her teeth above all else- it was good, then, that her parents had gifted her moves such as Thunder Fang, although Phi, upon learning this, could only wonder more at where such a queer creature had come from.)

Velvet loved fighting this way. In an instant, she would be at her opponent, and such was her endurance that she hadn't lost an ounce of breath, for although she ran almost as fast as Osh, Velvet was tough and long legged, built only of rock. She loved, too, the way she attacked, for the velvet pawed beast knew that the best way to win against an opponent was first to gain the upper hand, and her favorite way to do this was to knock her opponent off their feet. Thus would the shadow attack, ramming her shoulder against theirs before abruptly turning and clipping them with her fangs, never stopping, always moving and on her feet, cat-like and fluid. She reveled most in the fact that there was no warning- such was the speed and cover given to her by the sand, and such was her silence that there was not a single warning of her approach but the gleaming of her fangs. They were living in her world now, at least, she hoped they would be, granted that Sans managed to pull the last fragments of the move off, lest the storm die, but still, for now, it was her world- where everything came quickly and without a sound. The lone wolf, swift, steady, and solitary, was enacting her vengeance on the world.

Such was the long-legged dog's plan as she bounded on velvet paws towards Embertail, for he was around the size of she and the only one on the field of which her favored style of attack would work, such was the bulk and steadiness of her other opponent. Velvet planned to ram him, knock him off his feet, and then finally utilize the Crunch she had been charging, for the quickness of her style made moves like Crunch need more time to charge than she preferred to give, often revealing her location and weakening their strength. Her style of battle called for quick, sharp, continuous attacks, and she would happily dart in and out, clipping her opponent with her teeth but never quite taking hold. This was Velvet's plan, but a pat on the arm and the mouthing of caution allowed the fleet-footed dog to be wary of her opponent's movements, and guided her attack towards his arms instead of wherever she ended up hitting first. Velvet wasn't all too sure what to expect, but it was obvious that Phi was wary of something (could it be the dragon, of whom her partner had pointedly glanced at?), and so the dog kept up her guard. She cast one eye, sacred vision protected neatly by her goggles, through the folds of sand towards Phi, reveling silently in the thrill of the semi-finals.

Sans cried again, sharply, gurgling, like a frothing river, and all three of them grinned at the wildness of it all.
 
"A Herdier and a....and a Archeops....great!", Curt said, he wasn't sure if that "great" of his was to represent the eagerness of the challenge to come, or dreading the mountain that they'd have to climb for this victory. He had heard of Archeops, it was rumored that they were the progenitor of all Bird Pokemon, Curt wasn't entirely sure if that was true or not though. What he did fear was true though, was the legends of the birds great power, supposedly the Pokemon had immense strength, and could run faster then it flied, which worried Curt because apparently it could fly at speed of around thirty or forty MPH. Outside of that, he didn't know much about the Prehistoric Pokemon, except that it had to be revived from an extremely rare fossil using a very advanced, very expensive, cloning procedure to be obtained.

As for the Herdier, Velvet she was called,apparently, well, Curt didn't know much about Herdier either, they weren't terribly rare Pokemon but neither were they terribly common, favored as companions and guardians by the people of Unova the same way the people of Kanto and Johto favored Growlithe as a canine companion. Still, as he looked at the dog Pokemon, Curt couldn't help but notice that the Herdier seemed, bigger then he expected it to be, and the way she danced around the field implied she had mastered a certain level of agility. A good opponent for Embertail then, the Charmander even seemed to agree, his attention was locked on to Violet, tracing her movements, no doubt thinking of ways to match her dexterity, all while never dropping his typical grin. She did look adorable though, the way she put on those googles of hers on with her nose.

Curt straightened himself up, they were ready and alert, their eagerness of the battle to get underway was palpable. Though, despite his mental preparations, Curt was caught a bit of guard by the deep bow the girl admitted, a kind display of respect and curious, though unexpected. Curt stood their for a moment, wondering whether or not he should back, before awkwardly tipping his body slightly forward and mumbling out a "Good luck to you too". Embertail, however, had no such confusions as he immediately sprung in Phi's direction, and returned the girls bow with one of his own, albeit one done a bit quicker and sloppier fashion then her's, but still, the impetuous Charmander had nothing but good intentions when returning the bow. That didn't surprise Curt in the slightest, Embertail did this kind of thing all the time, what did surprise him was when Whips rose to his full height, closed his eyes, and dipped his head and torso forward slightly. It was a bow, unmistakably so, but it was different then the one Phi and Embertail did, Whips feet were still apart, arms at the ready, his stance showing he was ready to snap into battle the moment he was done. This wasn't the polite, lady-like down Phi did, this was a sign of respect from one warrior to another. That surprised them a bit, but then again, Whips was always big on honor, as were most Dragons, perhaps to him, not returning the bow would be seen as an insult to the girl. Either way, that moment had passed as Whips immediately jump back into a fighting position the moment he finished the bow, now it was time for the battle to begin.

Phi's team made the first move, ordering Sans to open with Sandstorm and then...made several odd gestures towards Velvet. Curt wasn't really sure what the point of those were, but it clearly made sense to the Herdier as it immediately went on the offensive as Sans let out a shrill cry to signal the coming storm. Curt braced himself for the Archeops speed, but even he was impressed at the haste it showed in conjuring the storm, the rapid flapping of its heavy, powerful wings, the massive amounts of sand and stone it conjured, it was all a testament to the ancient birds great power. He had no time to admire the Pokemon now however, as his vision and the vision of his team was rapidly being limited by the conjured desert sands. The last thing Curt saw on the oppositions side of the field was Velvet disappearing into the storm, and soon even Whips and Embertail would be almost invisible to him.

"EMBERTAIL, WHIPS WILL HANDLE THE STORM, JUST WATCH YOUR BACK AND KEEP A LOOK-OUT FOR ANY POSSIBLE ATTACK!", Curt yelled over the growing roar of the storm. Curt wasn't sure what Phi had planned by throwing up a Sandstorm, true it would buffet his Pokemon, but it would also batter Velvet as well, not to mention between all the sand, dust, and debris it would also limit her sense of smell, did Herdier have some special ability that powered them up in the Sandstorm? He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, considering the skill the girl had displayed so far, Phi wouldn't open up with such a move unless she had a plan, and then their were...the googles! Of course, those would help her see through the storm and track down Embertail or Whips, plus, now that he gave it some thought, he knew Phi wasn't one to make a move like this without good cause, if she was able to defeat Bailey then she had to know was she was doing. Still, as well thought out as the move was, there was one tiny detail she forgot, an ability often overlooked by many, but also one so incredible powerful it could complete change the course of a battle.

"WHIPS, HOWS YOUR WORK ON THIS STORM COMING ALONG?", Curt cried out to the Dragonite. The trainer always found it funny, Dragonair's ability to control the weather was always brought up whenever people talked about it, and for good reason. Dragonair were extremely rare Pokemon, but only moderately powerful overall, unless one factored in their ability to change the weather on almost a whim, which made it stand out from just about any other Pokemon. However, one rarely heard much about a Dragonites ability to change the climates, perhaps it was because, as rare as Dragonair were, Dragonites were even rarer then that, and very little research had been done on them (Professor Elm had almost begged Curt to let him examine Whips when he first learned that he evolved). Which was a shame because, as Curt soon found out, a Dragonites ability to control the forces of the sky outstripped even the legendary capabilities of its pre-evolution! Curt had seen his opponents call in storms, amplify the power of the sun, even call in hail in an attempt to gain an advantage over him, only to have their Pokemons hard work effortlessly dispelled by the Dragonite. Yet, for some reason here, Whips was having trouble dispelling Sans' storm.

"WHIPS, IS SOMETHING WRONG, THE STORMS HARDLY LET UP?", Curt yelled, hoping his words reached his partner over the bellowing sands. Whips grunted as his eyes narrowed, this wasn't the first sandstorm he dispelled, yet, despite his mastery over the weather, the Sandstorm only showed very faint signs of fading away. Normally he'd have a storm, even one this powerful, almost completely put away by now, but still, the winds blew and the sands roared, with the only other sounds to be heard were San's shrieks, and the faint yell of his trainer, asking him if there was an issue. Whips let out a quick, simple cry to try and let Curt know that there was indeed an issue, that being, this wasn't a typical sandstorm. Pokemon were magical creatures, from the simplest Rattatta, to even the legendary deities that permeated through ancient legends, even Pokemon from long forgotten areas like Sans possessed mystical powers that could shape the world, and that's were the trouble lied. The world was a very different place in Sans time, the worlds energy and life force was very foreign from the energy Whips got to know, and Sans was drawing upon that eons old energy to conjure a Sandstorm that hadn't graced the world in millions of years. To the average person or non-desert dwelling Pokemon, it wouldn't look much different then a regular Sandstorm, but Dragonites were in tune with the elemental forces of this world, and the foreignness of this storm was making it very hard for Whips to simple dispel, the fact that it was also one of the stronger weather conditions he had faced didn't help either. All Whips knew was....that if he heard the announcer say that he was having "A bad time" he would personally go up to him and punch him in the face after the match was over.

"Ah crap, EMBERTAIL, WHIP IS HAVING TROUBLE, JUST KEEP YOUR GUARD UP UNTIL HE GETS THIS SORTED OUT!", Curt cried to his friend, Curts words were responded with a faint cry from the Charmander, barely heard over the storm. Embertails body shifted rapidly from left to right, forwards and back, there was no way of telling where Velvet would be coming from, she was almost invisible so long as the Sandstorm cloaked her. In spite of how vulnerable he was in this storm (or maybe, because of it), Embertail was smiling, normally his plan of attack was to use his high speed to dart around and pick at foes, but now that same strategy was being used on him, it had been a while since he had an opponent to try and match his speed with, and it was giving him chills of excitement! Getting into the thrill of the battle can help keep ones mind clear, eyes focus, and nerves at ease, any warrior knows this, but unfortunately for Embertail, it was only enough to see Velvet at the last moment before she rammed into him, and even being half-a foot taller then a regular Charmander didn't prevent him from being thrown to the ground! Thankfully, Embertail was an agile Pokemon and was able to right himself in a way so that he could pick himself up rather quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid getting nipped by a Crunch attack from Velvet. Embertail let out a sharp cry of pain as he felt the Loyal Dog Pokemons teeth dig into him, his firm scales a paltry defense against such a strong attack. The words "what should I do" played over and over again in his head, he wasn't sure if Curt could tell what was going on , Crunch was a Dark-Type attack, were Herdier Dark types? Embertail had seen his fair share of Dark-types and they didn't look much like Dark-Types to him, but it was the best he had to go on! He clenched his claws into a fist as it glowed white with Chi-energy, but before he could lose his Brick Break on Velvet, the Terrier like Pokemon was off him and disappeared back into the cover of the Sandstorm, Leaving Embertail with a slight wound on his right arm (at least it wasn't his dominant one).

"EMBERTAIL, ARE YOU O.K?", Curt yelled to his companion, and though he heard the Charmander growled out an "I'm O.K", he still gritted his teeth in frustration. The match had just started and Phi, Velvet, and Sans already had them in a tight spot, despite their solid type coverage. However, it looked as though they were going to get their second wind as the howling of the winds softened slightly and the storm began to break up, or at least enough for Curt to make out where everyone was and what was going on. The storm would still batter the combatants, but Velvet would no longer be able to use it as cover to launch her surprise attacks! Though the storm was still somewhat thick, it was clear enough for Curt to make out Whips turning towards him and giving him a quick look, but it enough to speak volumes to the trainer. This was the best Whips could do with this Sandstorm in such a short time, but they'd make do, they always did.

"Alright, time to go on the offensive, Whips, use Aqua Tail to ride through the storm and strike down Sans, Embertail ,advance on Velvet with Aerial Ace and then follow up with Brick Break!", Curt said, vigor in his voice with the hopes of turning this battle around. Embertail let out a cheerful cry as he launched himself right through the storm, speed had always been the Charmanders specialty, and mastering a move like Aerial Ace came naturally to him even though he wasn't a flying type. In no time he'd be on Velvet, ready to strike her with a light hit (Aerial Ace's purpose was to get close and discombobulate, not to do damage) and then strike her with a full force Brick Break provided she was still reeling from the Aerial Ace. Whips plan of action was more straight forward, though the moisture in the air was currently a little scarce, he was able to draw up enough for a respectable Aqua Tail, which would help him cut through the Rock-Type based weather condition to strike at the prehistoric bird. Though Whips was able to weaken the storm, Curt knew Phi and her team would still be able to utilize it to some degree, but hopefully they were able to throw a wrench in her initial plan, or at least, slow it down. Time would tell if it would be enough, and they still had to move quickly, though the Sandstorm was weakened, it could still wear Embertail and Whips down if they dallied.
 
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(OOC: Hello all! I'm happy to be RPing with all of you, and I hope that you'll feel the same way!)

As the sun was setting, leaving the sky in a bright array of colors, a trainer with hardened grey eyes merely leaned against the railing by the battlefield, peering into it as he waited for the next round to begin. The trainer looked about 16, and wore simple clothing; Black boots, a pair of grey sweatpants, a white undershirt, and a black, hoodless zip-up jacket. The only particularly strange part about his attire was the long white scarf that seemed to flow behind him like water in a stream. His brown hair looked like a mop on his head, easily long enough to go over his eyes, but because of its tendency to curl every which way, it never passed his eyes once. The trainer found himself flinching at the blasting noise of the announcer, followed by the roar of the crowd. Despite his absolute hatred for overly loud noises, he had always found himself enjoying tournaments like these. He was slightly upset, as he had been late to the start of the tournament, only getting to observe the last part of a match between a teen (or so he thought) named Deo, and a man (who couldn’t have been past his mid, maybe late 20s) named Aiden. It was quite the shock to him though, observing the Infernape fall when it had been so charged up in its blaze beforehand. Still though, he was mulling somberly over being late for the majority of the time.

‘Well. I did try to get you up in the morning Verum. You really only have yourself to blame.’ a voice suddenly popped into Verum’s head, disrupting his train of thought and causing him to look at the Gallade leaning on the railing beside him. Verum sighed, but began thinking in his head, knowing that if the Gallade was already reading his thoughts, they’d be able to communicate like this. ‘I said I wantedfive more minutes Galladus. I thought you’d wake me up if I slept in.’ The Gallade bounced off the bars slightly, crossing his arms in front of himself, shooting Verum a hard look before he sent another message to his trainer ‘I thought I would make a point about your sleeping habits. Once you’re awake, you never want to sleep, and then when you go to sleep, it’s so late that you can’t wake up at a decent time in the morning.’ Verum shot a look to the Gallade before muttering indignantly, his voice somewhat muffled by the scarf that covered the lower half of his face, “Yeah, yeah. I got it. I’ll try to improve on my sleeping habits a bit, alright?”

Galladus appeared happy with that answer, nodding and going back to observing the now commencing battle at hand, leaving Verum to both observe the current battle, as well as think over the battles that had occurred beforehand. Verum had found all of the battles today interesting, but he had decided that there were two main trainers that stood out to him; Deo, and Phi. Deo’s battling style had interested him greatly, and though the large majority of the audience disapproved of it, he believed it to be an incredible way of battling. It forced the opponent to watch for movements, not listen for commands, and that was something that could trip up many trainers. As for Phi, his reasoning for being interested in her battles weren’t quite as clear. She had her own personal battling quirks, as everyone did, but they weren’t quite as profound as Deo’s. Verum simply dropped the matter in his head and decided to turn his attention back to the battle at hand.

He watched as both sides, Curt and Phi, two names that, by this point, he had heard quite frequently, stepped onto the field. Each side called out their Pokemon, with Curt revealing a Charmander and a Dragonite, and Phi calling out a Herdier and an Archeops. Verum found his eyes pausing upon the Herdier, looking at what appeared to be a pair of goggles around the dog’s neck. He found it strange that they should be there, but figured that he would find an answer in time. And that time would come faster than he thought, as he watched the ongoing battle, and the ancient bird Pokemon that had been by Herdier began whipping up a sandstorm that clouded the field in dust. It was quite simple really; The goggles must have been there to protect the Herdier’s sight in battles where weather conditions were present.

The Gallade next to him, however, had been focusing solely on the movements of the Pokemon, trying to judge and predict where they would go in order to better his perception skills. Even if he wasn’t going to be battling, it was always nice to attempt to be prepared for the future. It was for that reason that his face turned sour when the sandstorm immediately picked up, completely blocking his vision and preventing him from observing the fight to its full extent. It was quickly remedied when Curt’s Dragonite began to reduce the cloud of dust, though the process seemed to be slow in the Gallade’s eyes. It was always intriguing to watch the battles of others. He then watched as both the Dragonite and the Charmander rushed forward with their own attacks, most likely attempting to finish things quickly and efficiently.

Verum was just as engrossed by the battle as his partner, or rather, he was, until a red light flashed out from his pocket and he heard an all too familiar chortle echo nearby himself. The light faded away to reveal a Rotom with a wide smile on its face that immediately began to flit around some nearby audience members, laughing the entire time as it did so. Verum’s face went red from embarrassment, but he quickly composed himself, whipping out a pokeball and immediately recalling the plasma Pokemon. He sighed saying through his scarf (which was now pulled up slightly higher), “I’m terribly sorry! I assure you it won’t happen again!” He turned back to the battle, but brought the pokeball up to his face. “What am I going to do with you, Igni?”
 
The world was sand. It swirled and sifted, tossed and turned, rolled and swelled and dashed through the air like the world's most incredible school of minnows, each individual grain in sync with the rest of the group as they all turned and swelled and sifted in a confusing storm. The sand was in layers, swathes, even, that bounced along the ground and waltzed through the air, and these swathes rolled and tilted and sifted into one another as a school does, each minuscule piece of prey grouping together to create something humongous, powerful, and confusing in an attempt to keep a reign on life.

Nothing was definite in the stinging mass of earth. Everything moved, constantly, all chucked in different directions by the wind that drove the school, and the storm kept turning in upon itself, twisting the images of those within it, for nothing was definite and constantly did the world change, ruled by the wind in an ancient, wild storm. And yet, the storm was thinner, smoother, calmer. It twisted the world, but its edges were frayed, subdued slightly by the dragon that rode through it. Velvet lifted her head higher, her pride in the storm bruised even though she wasn't even the one to create it. Yet, respect shone in her armored eyes as her opponent called his attacks, and although she couldn't hear them, her spine tingled with excitement.

As the velvet pawed beast trotted in her smooth, ghostly lope, eyeing both her opponent and her trainer with the same iron gaze, she sniffed in distaste. The creature didn't need working ears to know that the storm had died- at least, it had thinned, losing its luster, its glory, and her revenge. The velvet pawed beast let out a cold breath, looking sternly at her opponent as if she were a teacher as he readied his attack.

While Osh had been possessive, Velvet was more of a vengeful being. The weakening of the storm hadn't hindered the velvet pawed beast, but it had broken her cover. If she had been Osh, childish fury would have been a fitting replacement for the cover, and the world would be well and balanced. But there was a coldness in her eyes and a frosty touch in the beast's armored heart. She wasn't one to submit to fury, but the world... oh, for once the world had been fair. She alone would return it that way. This was her duty. This was revenge.

They wouldn't be able to get rid of her stealth that easily. After all, weren't they still piddling in the outskirts of the storm, so close to Curt as they were? Sure, the storm wasn't thick enough to hide her even then, but good golly if she wouldn't try.

She stopped cold in her tracks and stared at her opponent as he rushed at her in the flare of Aerial Ace, mind gnawing on the instructions of her trainer, the one whose eyes were sharper than hers, who saw more and knew more and ultimately, she heard more and, the beast supposed, perhaps all senses helped each other, and perhaps this was why Phi could see more than the sharp eyed Herdier. The movements of hand could be interpreted as such, a combination of signals she had not seen in a long time. There was something refreshing about it- a challenge, for her opponent was as speedy and quick as she.

Be light. Stay distanced. This is a combination move- eye his hands. (She lifted both hands swiftly, brought them apart, then brought them together in a swift cutting motion to signify the end of that sequence of the command, similar to how conductors stop an orchestra. Then, the trainer held up on O to signify the opponent's move, then clapped her hands before holding out two fingers. Cutting motion again.)
Strike back. ( A V with her hands. Pause.)
Thunder fang. Acutely. Low. (A snap of her fingers before she folded them together like jaws, then pointed to her palm before laying her hands horizontally and putting them both together. Cutting motion.)
Chase- left, middle, high. (A C with one hand, before pointing with the other to all three directions. A cutting motion. The whole sequence of commands took about three seconds and was swift and smooth with few pauses for thought.)

For a moment, the Herdier pondered on what he would do, now with the knowledge that there was certainly something coming next. Then, there was no moment. Her eyes, so precious and precise, swam as the aerial ace struck her right in the shoulder, a cold white flare of shock rapidly spreading through her skin, cold and crinkly and thin, like aluminum foil. The shock spread as the velvet pawed beast, purposefully light on her paws, skid across the ground with the precise and stunning force of the attack, but colder than the shock was a noticeable fear, tempered with anger and distaste.

The aerial ace had landed right on her shoulder, quite near her neck.
Close to her head.
No one touched Velvet's head.

Granted, this was really her fault. It was evident that the attack was meant to strike her side, but when she stopped cold in her tracks she broke the line that he was aiming for, and there certainly hadn't been enough time to change the trajectory. Alright, this was her fault. She could deal with that. Better to live with your own mistakes than the success of others. There was something definite about success, something that was always. Mistakes were mistakes. They were once and then never were again.

Her opponent, too, had also made a mistake, not in their movements but in their reasoning. Velvet was a beast more like a wolf than a dog, and yet her agility was more belonging to that of a cat, for her feet were as sharp as her eyes. Nothing could ever knock Velvet off of her paws (at least, she wouldn't admit it could), such was how she twisted in quick, flicking movements, all just to keep them on the ground. A sure footing kept one in the game.

As such, when the aerial ace, with an intent to stun and demobilize, hit its target, the creature skid with its force, purposefully light on her feet, the distance gained time gained too. When it threatened to topple the creature, she leaned heavily on her forepaws, twisting her spine, spreading her back legs so as to stabilize herself. She ended up twisted, the upper half of her body still facing the original direction while the lower half was turned, facing towards the Charmander that was quickly preparing his next attack. Then, quick as a spring, the velvet pawed beast recoiled from her twisted position into her back legs, shuffling them closer before bunching them, launching herself past the enemy she now faced with as much vigor as a coiled cobra. The movement was bafflingly speedy, quick, accurate, and well-practiced, as cunning as that of a Liepard and utterly silent.

It wasn't fast enough. The brick break landed right at the base of her hip as she sprang away, but the Herdier could tell that the super effective blow was softened by the way it had landed, tilted ever so slightly, pushed away by the movement of the limb, and landed right at the edge instead of somewhere where it could dig into her fur. It was hasty, for the wolf-like dog, aided by the mere inches she skid and the sharpness of her paws, along with a knowledge of the flying type move shared between her and Phi that seemed to imply continuous close quarters with it, had swiftly recovered from the aerial ace, faster, it seemed, than the opponent had expected. The force of this new attack propelled her hind legs sideways and she went with it, twisting again her spine to land sturdily on the ground and spring away once more, but this time her fangs sparked with electricity while her face contorted for a moment in pain. She twitched the tip of her tail, pleased with the exhilaration that came with each twist, each paw flattening as it pushed against the earth and propelled her forwards.

Thunder Fang was a favorite move, although not as favored as Fire Fang, nor close to her all time favorite of Ice Fang. Despite this, she was pleased, even, just to use her teeth, and the velvet pawed beast, eyeing her trainer, begrudgingly accepted the wish for the move conveyed by a quick snap of her fingers, enclosed upon each other like jaws. Of course, all three moves required minimal energy and time to charge due their less powerful nature and what felt like eons of use, and this was what Velvet appreciated the most.

The Herdier ducked as she sprang again, but instead of away it was towards the opponent, although the tightness that they had battled so far meant that there wasn't much of a difference, seeing as she had sprang only twice since the aerial ace threatened her posture, both in different directions as the creature recoiled, darting in tight, ninety degree angles. Her teeth, gleaming with stray sparks of electric energy, quickly fizzed into a bright yellow coating around her jaws, and she darted low to the ground, the lean layers of sand sifting over her coat and lending her speed. There was little specific aiming this time- instead, the move was focused on digging into her opponent as sharply as possible as she nipped them, her abnormally long legs bunched and coiled so that the creature, all of a sudden, was a head lower than usual and a split second faster, for her long legs, now only needing to keep the body inches above the ground, had farther to stretch, lending them greater strength to donate to her speed, the pace heightened still by the feebler resistance of the wind on her body now that it was lower and more compact. Onlookers with a quick intellect would be able to realize immediately that it was a way to move that fit perfectly in with the lashing folds of sand, implying a large amount of experience with the storm.

It was at this point, with the storm back in the center of the brain, that one would think again of Sans and Whips. While Velvet, though pained slightly, was on her feet and easily slipping into the next plan of action, jaws looking to dig into their opponent, stance abruptly changed so as to confuse, and legs, after darting in, darting just as easily away, it could be said that Sans was doing rather worse. This would be why, after the Herdier had darted in, she was meaning to dart away for good, straight to the side of the field and, queerly enough, nowhere near where the two beasts inevitably found their conflict. She was planning to move swiftly, darting deeper into the whipping sands, and yet she would pause every once in a while when her eye gauged the distance safe, turn back, stand straight, and bow playfully towards her opponent, as if drawing him further out into the field and deeper into the storm. There was little time to be lost.

Sans could never really get the hang of the world he had been brought into. Though to the world now he seemed foreign, it was to him that he was natural and the world was the one that was foreign. He was always learning, with a keen eye for how things moved and a particularly strong sense of instinct, but this didn't make up for the fact that he always thought the world would be different than it was. Sometimes, he simply longed for sleep, so refreshing was the void in a land of continuous surprise and unrest.

As such, it should not have come to be a surprise that the Aqua Tail, despite the slow nature of its creator, hit its mark with a rather satisfying squelch. Sans had been utterly bemused by the movements of his attacker, the dragon Pokemon cutting through the air as if it was a wave of water instead of a live, broiling creature. The air was the master, and yet this... Whips acted as if he was the master of it. He had even threatened to slaughter the whips of sand, managing to calm the wildness ever so slightly. The bird cocked his head, silent, as the attacker approached, the ancient creature twisting and turning as the wind tossed him and he willingly tossed with it. And then, the creature was close enough to attack all at once, and Sans, futily twisting in the bellows of the storm, sand shrouding his form like a cloak, tried to twist and turn and tumble away from the beast who cut through the air like the master of the wind.

"Broad, high, roll, dive, go."

It was a broken chain of commands that the creature often heard when his trainer was as much in the frenzy as he was, used to giving such broken links to his deaf comrade and forgetting, again, the basics of a well thought out sentence. Breathing heavily, for evasive maneuvers, at the close range that had already been acquired, were feeble and hard to execute, the wild creature gurgled in excitement and relief. He dipped in his flight, then sharply rose in a swell of wind so that he was above the attack, spreading his body out flat as it hit full on.

There was a funny thing about fighting. Most people were inclined to believe that the wider the area that had been struck was, the harder the hit had been. For moves like Surf, perhaps that was true, for they were stronger when every drop was surging at the opponent instead of just a few. But this did not stand true for other moves- moves like Thunder Fang, Brick Break, or Aqua Tail. The sharper they struck, the more acute the wound, the greater the damage that was inflicted and thus if spread broadly across a large, generally sturdy area, the damage could be softened, or even absorbed. That isn't to say that taking the attack was better than being just nicked, but it was certainly a step above the damage that could be taken if it was swung full force, acutely striking with a savage edge. It was basically the difference between being slashed by the edge of a sword versus the flat and, in a creature where every ounce of strength was critical, it was a lesson learned quickly by both trainer and Pokemon. Thus, the Archeops spread himself out, tilting ever so slightly in order to ensure that all four 'wings' remained safe, for both the traditional wings and the stout legs held long, sturdy feathers that were critical to his flight. This was the 'broad' instruction, the Archeops thought as he gasped, water soaking into his skin, the attack spread out upon his whole body.

The next part was fairly simple and became evident extremely quickly. As the creature had positioned himself above the attack, the momentum of it was transferred to him and, as he was flung out of its contact, the ancient bird tucked into himself like a spinning ball, speeding high into the air. When the bird, now rolled in a ball and flung high into the sky in a rather queer position for really anything that was flying, felt the momentum cease, he wasted no time in spreading himself out just as broadly as before. For a moment, the ancient creature, drawing in great breaths, for the chest was a most vital thing for anything that wished to fly and it had been majorly crushed with the aqua tail, spun, wings out, before he righted himself. 'High' and 'Roll.' He thought, checking them off of the list of commands.

Something strange had happened. The Archeops had risen above the storm he had created, and yet tendrils of sand clung to him like fingers, long, thin, and wiry, caressing his form. They wrapped around him, straining, as if tugging him back to earth.

And then, as if by the will of the sand, he tilted, and plummeted.

Rocks began to form around him as he dove back into the storm, lagging ever so slightly behind as if tugged on by his wings, which had been quickly tucked away again to form a creature like a ragged bullet. They formed out of the sand, it seemed, grains grabbing onto each other and molding together into something that wasn't really sand at all but dark and hard, enveloped by a deep, ancient blue aura. As he dropped faster and faster towards the earth and his opponent, the rocks, too, picked up speed and power. The farther he went into the storm, the greater was the mass of sand that clung to him like a blanket and obscured the details of the large bird, for it seemed that everywhere he went the storm followed, and the closer you came to him the deeper, wilder, darker it became. And then, he was just feet away from the Dragonite again, strain clear on the ancient creature's features, a darting wildness in his eyes, an insane incredibleness in the beauty of his plummet, trailed by rocks, and enveloped by sand.

"Now! Left, middle, high- C."

At the call of his trainer the creature spread his wings, abruptly slipping out of his plummet well out of the range of his opponent as the creature soared at an angle towards the earth and away from the dragon, so as to ease the strain of the magnitude of the speed he had gained. Swiftly, the Arhceops returned to the wild, dipping, rising, motion of tossing in the wind as he tilted back into the sky, but only momentarily, waiting for the opportunity to drop back down to earth.

The rocks, of course, hadn't come with him. Their course was straight and simple: down, down, down, down, and they certainly weren't going to avert from it with the ease that he did. So instead the creature released the Ancient Power attack on Whips, feeling a certain thrill course through his veins. They had surrounded the bird in a sort of circle as he dropped, with a singular rock right in the middle and, powered by the speed his descent had gained, they raced through the air to meet the dragon of whom he had made sure was below him.

The Archeops soared upwards, slower, tossing in the sky. It was at this point that Velvet should near him, and so the creature searched the ground with his darting, wild gaze, for the first time since he was hit feeling tired and drained, waiting to observe the success of his comrade that he presumed must have occurred. The creature cocked his head and trilled, in the manner that birds do. Sand surged around him, seemingly at his call, and the storm, though thinned and weakened, whipped and danced, tossing him through the air.

Phi breathed, breathe large and rapid, chest heaving.

Good golly this was fun. Fun in a sort of insane way, wild and chaotic and unpredictable, with surprises around every corner and even just sitting out on the street. She looked for each of her Pokemon's eyes, running a hand through her hair in exhilaration- up from her forehead and into the strands, choked slightly by sand, freeing a few from the strap of her goggles.

Then she looked towards Curt, knowing that there was no levity in the cold rush of excitement and worry and friendship with her team, and she watched the storm boil, stained fingers fiddling with the air.
 
"(O.K, good, we're turning this around, just need to keep the pressure on now...)", Curt thought, seeing both Embertail and Whips successfully hit their targets. Not only did Embertail successfully strike Velvet with his Aerial Ace attack, he also was able to follow that up by bashing her with a Brick Break attack! Granted, Velvet was able to spring out of the way, forcing Embertail to make as sort of "leap of faith" to strike her, thus nullifying some of the Brick Breaks' damage, but still, to Curt it was a hit. Though he had to admit that Velvets speed was impressive, what really threw him for a loop was Sans, most Pokemon couldn't take a single hit from Whips, him being the incredibly powerful Dragon that he was. The fact the ancient bird was still standing was a testament to its remarkable stamina, Phi's skill as a trainer, and both of their determination!

Of course, Phi, Velvet, and Sans wouldn't go down so easily, despite the damage, the Terrier-like Pokemon was already back on its paws and going back on Embertail, he teeth crackling with electricity. Embertail, his balance thrown off by over-reaching his Brick-Break, was unable to right himself in time to move out of the way of Velvets Thunder Fang. The Charmander let out a cry as Velvet nipped him, then immediately released her grip and went back to bouncing around Embertail. So, they were trying the same strategy as before, bouncing around and hitting Embertail with light strikes, only this time they were on their guard, Embertail wouldn't be able to pull one over on them so easily. On the other end of the field, Sans was going on the offensive this time, striking at Whips with Ancient Power after performing some very impressive aerial maneuvers. Curt knew Whips wasn't going to be able to dodge such a fast attack, Whips was bulky and extremely strong, but not very fast even by Dragonite standards, but still, they'd had to make do with their situation.

"WHIPS! Make some distance between you and Sans, quickly!", Curt yelled to his dragon friend. Whips immediately began back-peddling from Sans and his attack, the momentary high gotten from his successful attack gone as his wings beating intensely against his back. To Whips credit, he made it to the other end of the field before the Ancientpower struck him and sent him tumbling to the ground, landing almost right next to Curt. Meanwhile, Embertail was still doing his little "dance" with Velvet, on an even field he felt like he could match the Herdiers speed, but the Sandstorm, though it no longer cloaked her, her ability still gave her a significant speed boost. Embertail was trying to follow her and strike her with another Brick Break, but she always seemed to leap away right before he could connect.

"Whips, you alright?", Curt cried to the Dragonite, Whips was already picking himself up, though the super-effective attack did certainly leave its mark on the Dragonite, still he gave Curt a quick nod to signal he could still fight, "alright, we may have rushed into this a bit, let's try and different approach, Dragon Dance Whips!" Whips let out a breathe as he closed his eyes, and for a moment, inspite of the roar of the Sandstorm, inspite of the battle going on, Whips knew total serenity. Dragon Dance worked different for each dragon that used it. Some Pokemon actually performed a dance, others started roaring and beating their chests, for Whips, he just allowed himself a moment of calm to focus on drawing upon the primal energies that slept with in each dragon. With Whips focusing on his dance, Curt turned his attention to help out his little fire lizard buddy.

"Embertail, just stay focused, don't just wait for her to come to you, watch her and think about where she's going to be, then ram her with Aerial Ace!", Curt yelled to his buddy. The Charmander looked back at him, also gave his trainer a nod (his being a bit more cheerier then Whips) before turning his attention back to the battle. Embertail took a deep breath and tried to focus, thinking back to how Velvet attacked, just as a patter of paws, almost unhearable with the whips of the storm, pattered up to him, the next thing he felt was a jolt of electricity and the sinking of fangs into his scales. As soon as Velvet was their, she had hoped back into dancing around the Charmander, teeth cracking with electricity, her face almost seemed to be smiling at him, taunting him. Embertail, however, wasn't going to let it get to him that easily (actually, nothing much seemed to get to Embertail), not now, not when he finally saw what he was willing to believe was a tell in Velvets attack, It was subtle, but he seemed to see a sort of swaying in the sands right before Velvet threw herself at him, as though the sands were hugging her and pushing her forward for an attack. That was his opening!

The moment he saw the Sands "hug" Velvet, he rushed towards her with Aerial Ace, the two moves clashed against each other, the sounds of electricity crackling in the air met with the rushing of wind, repelling both Pokemon backwards. Embertail was able to easily catch himself, using his claws to slow his propel backwards, and the Charmander couldn't help but smile. He got her, he knew how to read her moves now, by using the very same sandstorm she was drawing strength from, he could turn her advantage into a liability! Embertail was so excited it felt like lightning was tingling through his veins...and bones, and skin too. It was here where Embertail let out a small cry, and it took all his strength to keep himself from falling to his knees, and he almost wanted to laugh at the timing of it all, right when he was going to turn this battle around!

Embertail was paralyzed.

"Embertail, you got her! Now you can...Embertail? What's wrong, why are you-oh crap...", Curt said, his mood doing rapid one-eighties, first jubilation at Embertails successful hit, then worry at seeing him flinch up like then, then dread as he realized his bro had been paralyzed. Curt cursed their luck, was that Phi's plan all along, why see had Velvet dance around him, striking him with light hits, was she hoping Paralysis would proc? Thankfully, there was one silver lining, a roar from right next to Curt told him that Whips was finished with his Dragon Dance, and now that his already formidable strength was boosted along with his speed, he could truly unleash his fury upon the battlefield. Of course, Curt had no doubt that Phi was already planning an attack on Whips while he performed his dance, but Curt and Whips were no stranger to this scenario.

"Alright, Whips, advance on Sans with Iron Head, use it as a shield as well as an attack!", Curt told Whips, as though Whips needed to be told, the Dragonite knew this routine. With a cry, Whips horn, antenna, and skull shined a bright silver, energized with the power of steel, and Whip took of towards the Archeops with every ounce of his strength he had. The Iron Head Steel-Type attributes would shield him from the worse of another Ancientpower attack, as well as a few other attacks that Sans might cook up, not to mention it would also partially shield him from the Sandstorm for a brief moment. It wasn't something people thought up often enough, using what was normally an offensive attack as a defensive one as well.

"Alright Embertail, lets play defensively for now, Dig, get underground", Curt cried to the Charmander, who gave his a quick nod and began trying to bury underground. The Charmander winced as he fought through the Paralysis, be pushed forward none the less, they both knew that their best bet right now would be to hold out from Velvet, Sans, and the Sandstorm by going underground, hope for Whips to take out Sans ASAP, then have him help take care of Velvet. It wasn't exactly the bravest of strategies, but they suffered a bad turn of luck, and they had to play to counter that, right now they just had to hope that Phi, Velvet, and Sans didn't have any tricks up their sleeves.
 
(OOC: I apologize for my absence, this post will take place before the NPC battle, this will not be a very good post as it is a catch-up post)

"She lost... Bailey, the flawless woman of my dreams lost", Zephious thought to himself, "Still, she put up a pretty good fight while still looking perfect, its my turn to show my worthiness of her affections. Wait- did I seriously think that? Oh my, I am such a lover boy. Not that I am to blame, I mean, look at the girl..."

Zephious continued to ramble about Bailey while making his way to the the battlefield. After spouting some more cliches he arrived at the stadium. (OOC: As Curt skipped most of the battle, and as I don't feel like describing a whole battle so fast forward to the end).

"Dawn, NO!" Zephious yelled as Dawn was helplessly consumed by the fierce flamethrower. The judge ruled Dawn unable to battle and Curt as the winner. "I lost.... In the presence of her which I admire above all. Alas, I am not worthy of her. For if I could not win a friendly competition with my allies, surely I would not be able to protect her from a malicious evil. I am a failure... This must not happen again."

"Come out Angel, we must teleport to that place once more for a reason you already know."

As they teleported away he spoke," Victus sum, sed ego a cineribus resurgent. Dum flammas meum sentiat, non dolere. Unice amor custodierit me fortes." (OOC: Rough Latin for: I am vanquished, but only from the ashes will I rise. And while I may feel the flames on my back, I do not feel the pain. My only love will allow me to remain unscathed)
 
The Grand Kalos Festival has drawn in people from all over the region (and even some beyond that), making the humble town of Geosenge a far denser place than usual for the time being. Visitors and residents alike all currently occupied the stadium built to seat many more than the entire residential population; thus, the emptiness of the streets combined the numerous stone pillars prompted the place to appear more a historical monument than an active village. The only site still moderately lively was the Pokemon Center near the front gate, as it was the one place where participants of the tournament can heal up their Pokemon after arduous battles, and people who weren't able to claim seat tickets in time can still observe the action live on the Center's big screen. With the closing of the third round and the emergence of the semifinals, however, the once many trainers that marched in and out of the automatic sliding doors wearing faces of either triumph or defeat have dwindled down to a mere four individuals. The nurses were finally granted the chance to catch their breaths after a busy day, but in their hardworking minds this only meant that they could now direct more of their service to the visitors that did arrive.

Deo was one of them, and he suspected that - as he had had been waiting for nearly half an hour hour now - the nurses were indeed taking extra care of the Pokemon had battled for his team in the second and third rounds: his Swampert, Nero. Additionally, Echthra had been dropped off after the first round much earlier in the day and still hadn't returned due to her injuries, making waiting quite a daunting task. Slumped on the comfortable red seats and leaning far enough forward to rest his arms on his thighs, the boy was unmistakably tired. Since his head was faced down, one wouldn't be able to spot that his expression further demonstrated his exhaustion. His goggles hanging around his neck, he was regretably able to see his eyes for the first time that day as he stared into the surprisingly reflective surface of his silver case. He detested what gazed back at him. The crooked, sunken-back eyes and thick, steep eyebrows created the portrait of a thug who couldn't differentiate left from right nor right from wrong, a cowardly bully who never grew up, a criminal who holds no regrets for pathetic actions. Deo could easily picture himself as a prisoner, lacking any sign of gratitude towards the thoughtful visitor from behind the glass. Deo detested that face, but he was also intrigued by it. How could distinct facial features - something permanently encripted in DNA from birth - identify specific personas in society despite seeming completely unrelated? Was everyone truly born with some predetermined purpose? Was there such a thing as destiny? OR could it be that Deo's experiences, decisions, and morals throughout his life somehow altered the path his visual growth would travel? And if so, what did that signify about what he looked like now?

Deo was so immersed in his thoughts that he had forgotten to breath, so when he finally took notice of his shortness of breath he let in a deep one before releasing with a long, groaning sigh. 'Burning so many calories on irrelevant thoughts...no wonder I fatigue so quickly. Unlike the other trainers, though, I don't do shit', he blatantly reminded himself before casually glancing at the spike-bodied creature beside him. The bright white pupils of Sorex's pitch black eyes had been shifting from passerby to passerby - as well as appreciating the decor - ever since they entered the place. Despite being so instinctive and independant by nature, the Sandslash was such an agog creature. In their first months together Deo believed this was his way of analyzing potential opponents for strategic gain, and this does in-fact hold true to an extend. In truth, however, he wants to know everything about everyone, albeit more attentive towards personalities and morals than all else. How tragic it was, then, that everybody's admirer was a secret one, too timid to make conversation with others and learn more about them. These characteristics boggled Deo, for Sorex was old, far older than himself and the rest of the team. For someone so old as to still be so shy and - more importantly - so inquisitive of things that others his age began taking for granted long ago - it was just odd. The only clear explanation was the old saying that many experience a "second childhood" as they approach their later years, when their newfound wisdom allows them to look at familiar things from exciting new perspectives. However, Deo had the strange feeling that Sorex had always been like this, even though he hadn't actually been around during the Sandslash's youth. Besides, he wasn't THAT old, right? Honestly, his trainer wasn't sure, but he definitely wasn't too old for battle. In fact, he was stronger than ever. Regardless of the origins of Sorex' behavior, though, it granted him an undoubtedly perceptive mind. While Deo wasn't keeping up with tournament battles, struggling just to remember participants' names, and being distracted by pathetic internal conflicts, Sorex was observing in silent, memorizing everything he could simply because the knowledge was - for him - practically there for the taking. Deo wouldn't be surprised if the red - spiked rodent carried many times as much intel on the remaining three contestants as he. It was Sorex's understanding of others - and especially that of his own trainer - which was why Deo could easily consider him as his partner. Why was it, then, that this claim didn't feel so clear cut? - As if something disregarded prevented the Sandslash from feeling the same way about Deo?

Deo paused before squinting his eyes and shaking away his thoughts, annoyed that he was once again distracted by virtually nothing. Desparate, he sluggishly pulled out a fancy, comfortable - looking pair of black headphones from his bag beside him and put them on. From inside his case he grabbed the device from before that appeared somewhat like a phone but was likely capable of other functions. For now though, it was going to be used for playing music, and with a tap of the screen Deo's ears were invaded by a symphony of heavy rhythms, churning metal instrumentals, and melodic vocals. Normally, this pastime was Deo's temporary vacation from reality to immerse himself in his imagination, but right now it was going to aid him in recalling the day's events as a montage: Echthra's lucky victory in the first round had left him with a lack of confidence, but it was soon regained by Nero's discernible dominance in the second and third rounds. This thought process was Deo's method of regaining focus and pumping adrenaline back into his veins in preparation for his upcoming battle. Speaking of which, he perceived a climax of sorts in the song as a cue to imagine the future scene in detail: Deo would make his way to the battlefield with a slow but confident stride before facing his unknown opponent, portrayed all fuzzy and blurred. Was it Curt? Was it Gerald? Phi? Regardless, the figure eminated strength, but Deo would be ready. He knew now that it wasn't luck that had carried him so far, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't picture the crowd feeling the same way. Deo understood the potential misunderstanding in the first round; it had seemed that Deo had given up due to the unfavorable matchup. Even so, Nero had fought well on his own in the later battles, so the audience should have realized that this was simply how Deo's pokemon were trained. Despite being unable to conjure up their faces, however, he somehow knew they were shaming him. What WAS the reason? What was SO wrong about merely allowing these powerful creatures of the elements to fight for themselves just as they've had for millions of years?!

'We were both afraid of this, Deo.'

Deo's vision altered into an uncontrollable daymare as the nearby voice spoke. It attempted a calm and apologetic tone but was tainted with a cheerful cold-heartedness, extreme paranoia, and psychopathy. The voice's source was portrayed as another figure only a few meters away, but this one was different. It wasn't blurred but sharp - a black sillouette in the form of a serpent. This was because Deo knew who it was, but it lacked further detail because he couldn't bear to visualize it completely. It was the one member of his team that he feared most, but also the one to which he owed so much.

'Isn't that the reason we formed a our little agreement? Well, there's nothing to do about it now, so I suppose this is it.'

A tap on the shoulder broke Deo out of it. It was a hard tap, as if failing to get Deo's attention several times beforehand. Once Deo glanced up and spotted the slightly frustrated face of a middle-aged male nurse, he yanked his headphones off as fast as he could, nearly damaging them in the process. "You're requested at the front, sir", he impatiently informed the teenager before returning to the hospital behind the employee-exclusive doors. Deo quickly gathered his things and hurried to the front desk, where a young lady was waiting with two distinct silver pokeballs, her seemingly unhappy expression worrying him.

"Deo, was it?" She began in a formal but kind voice. "I'm happy to inform you that not only is Nero back at full health, but Echthra is also ready to return as well from when you dropped her off this morning." She quieted slightly. "Unfourtunately, there were some...complications with Echthra." Deo had never heard those words from a nurse before, yet his eyes widened as if a reoccurring fear had finally become reality.

"She...didn't cooperate. She resisted care despite her injuries and spat on a fellow nurse. Her ability must have been Effect Spore, correct? Because that nurse became paralyzed from the saliva, and she's now undergoing medication." The anger in that last statement had failed to restrain fully, and Deo couldn't blame her. She handed Deo's Pokemon back to him, but he noticed a rectangular sticker of sorts on Echthra's Pokeball, one that didn't look like it could peel off easily. "That's an indenture stating that Echthra is banned from all Pokemon Centers until further notice, when her behavior is hopefully improved and no longer places the safety of nurses and other employees at risk. Please remember to buy plenty of potions and other healing items for her in the meantime." She recommended before turning around to get back to work. She glanced back at Deo one last time, though. "We apologize for the inconvenience, but we wish you good luck in the Festival Tournament."

Deo replied with an instinctive but forced "Thank you very much" before leaving the Pokemon Center with Sorex following, his defeated face seeming to scream the words, 'I don't deserve good fortune.' He just then realized he still wasn't wearing his goggles, but he figured that he didn't deserve to hide that shameful face of his either. He almost immediately pushed the button on Echthra's Pokeball, releasing the kickboxing kangaroo mushroom in front of him. She seemed perfectly aware of what she had done by the way she was grinning at him, which made Deo sick to his stomach. This wasn't in a condescending way, oh no. This wasn't disgust nor distain he felt, for Echthra acted not for his misfortune, but for her own. She despised others and was despised in return, but this hatred didn't come from nothing. She had to bring out the worst in others, so that when they retaliated, she became the victim, and her feelings became more real. She's been a victim for so long that it was all she knew, and being anything else would make no sense. But deep down, she has more complex influences for tricking herself as well as others into this dreadful cycle, and Deo once begged to Echthra for these reasons. With Cyta acting as a translator, the Breloom's only reply was clear and nearly immediate, as if rehearsed many times: 'Hatred is the only truly honest relationship, the only one in which both sides are in full agreement. Isn't it only natural for me to feel content when nothing is hidden? When all emotions and opinions are ripped out and laid out on the table?' At first the statement seemed simple enough, and Deo would almost immediately begin to draw out all its logical fallacies. It became more confusing over time, however, and Deo soon realized that he wasn't that smart. In the current moment, Deo suddenly felt uncontrollably ill, not from disappointment. No, Echthra's condition was far beyond that point; her way was the only way that granted her solitude. To allow this solitude at the expense of everyone's wellbeing, including hers- the pressure of this decision overwhelmed Deo to the point of nauseousness.

When Sorex spotted his trainer actually begin to pale before his eyes, he somehow knew what was wrong. He turned to Echthra, and while Deo couldn't understand him since his Reuniclus was still in her pokeball, the Sandslash seemed to speak in a sincere, logical tone. Echthra in response displayed a look of actual guilt and concern rarely seen on her face, then she gave the signal for Deo to return her to her pokeball. Deo hesitantly did so before glancing back at Sorex, who just nodded in hopes that his trainer had pulled himself together before pointing a clawed arm towards the direction of the stadium, where the sound of a thousands of cheers could be faintly heard even from such a huge distance away. Deo nodded lightly in confirmation as the pair hurried towards the tournament in hopes that they wouldn't be late for their battle. Just as he finally began to redirect his focus, however, Deo couldn't resist tracking back his thoughts to when the Sandslash made Echthra do a complete one-eighty. Sorex was the only one who couldn't loathe her no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't bring out a bad side from him, and as a result she couldn't hate him either. To no surprise, he was the one to whom she was willing to comply more than to Deo. At the moment of this thought, however, the boy found himself with an emotion he only experienced back during the early stages of the tournament: Jealousy. Given the circumstances, it only made sense that he would be envious of Sorex for Echthra's obedience, but this was oddly not the case. This jealousy was old, but it had been stacking layers upon layers over several years and was aimed not towards the shiny Sandslash but towards the Breloom. No, not just her, everyone. The nurse, the remaining trainers of the tournament, that random guy walking his Furfrou, the weird lady playing her guitar atop a table: Deo was jealous of all of them, but WHY? About WHAT? He has always known of this strange resentment he feels whenever he lays his eyes upon virtually any being, but he could never track down the cause. What he also failed to understand was the reason it was so potent at that very instant, when nothing of significance was found that might have triggered it. It was a resentment child - like in its meaninglessness yet haunting in its persistence.

As they finally passed through the stadium gate, Deo frantically searched for their seats, or at the very least somewhere nearby. They eventually did, but when they noticed that the semi - burly man known as Curt was clearly missing, the boy paused. "Wait, so if Curt isn't here, then that mea-"A sudden powerful gust from behind whipped Deo's coat into a frenzy, a wind not clear nor consistent in sound but gravelly and chaotic, like static. When he turned around, he bared witness to something that gave him a strange sense of familiarity and finally reminded him to put his goggles back on: a brewing sandstorm that ecompassed a sizable chunk of the arena. Deo's heart rate climbed at a rate not too different from the volume of the crowd's cheers. "The battle already started?! I bet you're loving this, Sorex...eh?" The red Sandslash had already become a distant figure at the bottom of the stands as if he teleported there, leaning against the rim to get as close as possible to the action (and becoming the most at risk). Deo scurried down the stairs after him, but the two faces displayed on the jumbotron caught his eye, and they filled him with exhilaration. When he had joined with his partner, he was frustrated with how difficult it was to see into the raging storm, which had cloaked everything with darkness. Sorex, on the other hand, being used to such weather, made rapid darting glances, appearing to be able to follow the figures deep inside. Deo exhaled loudly; he was not going to stand there useless as his partner absorbed all the information, no matter how complex and chaotic things became! He turned back towards the field with as much focus as he could muster, when the whooshing walls of sand had suddenly become more transparent, allowing him to see the pokemon inside: Whips, Embertail, a Herdier, and an rapidly spinning Archeops. He then heard Curt's voice call a series of orders: Aerial Ace? Brick Break? Aqua Tail? These were such odd moves coming from a Charmander and Dragonite, but this was no longer surprising. Throughout the tournament, Curt appeared to specialize in move coverage, surprising his opponents with moves not traditionally known by the species of each of his pokemon, often causing super-effective damage that foes wouldn't see coming. A prime example of this was his Cubone, Jasper, who had won the first round battle with a unexpected combination of Ice Beam and Flamethrower. Who knew that the man Deo had met at the beginning of the tournament from complete coincidence just so happened to be such a powerful trainer who was now battling in the Semi-Finals!

Of course, he couldn't help but be intrigued by his opponent, Phi. Her otherwise calm expression leaked with intensity, and she didn't appear to falter in the slightest as her pokemon were struck successfully by Whips's and Embertail's attacks. Deo whispered a word of utter confusion as she began forming various signs with her hands before yelling out a broken series of words. 'Broad? Roll? High-C? What?' Placing a hand on his head and hanging his mouth open, Deo realized that he couldn't simply slap a battling style on the girl. At least with the cards she spoke intelligible words as commands, but now he was truly dumbfounded. It was only a matter of time before a fitting metaphor began hurling in his direction...

"Ow!" Deo cried as a baseball-sized stone racked him upside the head, knocking him down on his hands. Despite the exciting battle taking place, nearby members of the crowd took notice and began helping the boy up. The helpful gestures towards Deo only encouraged him to pull himself up more quickly, though.

"I'm fine, thanks." 'Out of the countless taller people here, HOW could it have possibly been the short guy, HOW.' Sighing annoyingly at his painful misfortune, Deo turned the other way, concluding that the rock could have only come from outside, and he figured he might as well return it so it doesn't become a hazardous obstruction to others. Sorex, for once oblivious to his trainer's absence, continued gawking at the exciting battle before him.

Deo tossed the rock aside once he was outside the colosseum, but he caught a glimpse of a familiar head of red hair nearby. He swore that...yep, it was Gerald. Realizing that this was the guy he was going to face in the next battle, Deo instinctively began to analyze what he already knew: Protect, Toxic, Venoshock, Will-o-Wisp, Attract - these moves used by Gerald's pokemon all seemed to be associated with a single concept: Utility. His pokemon crippled opponents with status conditions before releasing a barrage of synergistic combos...man. Deo had forgotten how dangerous his coming opponent was, and it got him all pumped up, but he wondered what he was doing out there. Hoping to remind Gerald that the first battle had already started, Deo headed towards him, but the boy appeared...busy. While his Braixen - June, right? - and a Lopunny he had not yet seen were reading magazines, Gerald was just holding a Shedinja and staring at it in an uncomfortably grave fashion...Wait, aren't Shedinja known to steal the soul of anyone who stares into the empty void on its back?! A sweat rolling down his face, Deo acted as casual as possible, secretly praying to Arceus he wasn't speaking to a soulless, limp body.

"J-just so you know, Gerald, Curt and Phi are already going at it, and I don't think you should miss it. After all, one of them might be your opponent in the final," Deo concluded with a slightly nervous but humored chuckle.
 
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Luna started walking silently through the park. For the first time, without any Pokemon outside the balls. She had always felt important with one of them following, Sombra always being her favorite. But this time was different. She had suddenly felt the need to be alone for a while, to just low her head and have some minutes just to be by herself… And her pride. Following her closely, stuck at the sole of her shoe like her own shadow.

She was addicted to it. To the feeling of victory, of greatness. Perhaps, of being more powerful than the average and, even maybe, to be something threatening for the competence.

But pride was a double edge sword. It had her feeling like a queen with her head up high and, suddenly, with just a small loss, completely destroyed.

The stadium was now right in front of her eyes, her pride burning inside her, consuming her thoughts as the crowds yelled, screamed, cheered inside of it. And a new thought appeared in the middle of the catastrophe her own pride was creating; to enter the stadium and become a part of the crowd.

It would hurt to face the reality that she could lose while others won, but it was time to fight her pride just for once. Because she hadn’t done it any single time since it started growing in her chest.

And so, she did. She entered the stadium and watched the battle of those who had continued its way through the competence. A thin cap of sand was spinning in the air, Luna supposed it was a sandstorm once.

A pretty large Charmander—presumably Curt’s—was running around a Herdier, hitting it once, twice, and so on. The Pokemon didn’t appear to put much effort to avoid it, but the sparks growing in it’s mouth made Luna think that the big dog owner had a plan. And apparently, she succeed. The charmander suddenly stopped running, his movements now way clumsier and slower. It was paralyzed.

A sharp noise suddenly sounding around her distracted her. It was like electricity, like a Pokemon using thunder bolt maybe, or…

What was that giggling now?

Luna started turning her head to one side to another, trying to find the origin of that annoying sound, without being able to find anything until she suddenly spotted a Rotom flitting around her, laughing at his not so fun game. “What?! Who are you?!” she exclaimed, trying to shoo it with her hands like it was a bug “Stop! Stop it!!”

But the Rotom appeared to find a good source of fun in this, so it continued to play his small game ignoring Luna’s complaining. Until a small bummer for him appeared on the audience. For Luna’s relief, he took the Pokemon back to it’s Ball.

I’m terribly sorry! I assure you it won’t happen again!” he apologized to then talk to it’s Pokeball. Luna rolled her eyes.

“It’s okay…” she answered still irritated. She turned to look at the Rotom owner. His looks were pretty simple, grey pants, white shirt and a black hoodie, also a long white scarf covering his neck. “Are you participating in the competence?” she asked looking at her feet. That was still a hard topic for her to touch.
 
Verum quietly put the Rotom’s Pokeball back into the holster in his jacket. Igni…she was always a troublemaker, from the day Verum had met her. She could tend to be a bit more than he could handle, especially in large crowds. ‘Just another reason to hate them, I suppose’ Verum thought to himself before beginning to turn his attention back to the battle at hand. Or rather he would have, had he not heard a voice in the crowd that he had just disturbed ask him a question.

It was a female voice behind him, asking “Are you participating in the competence?” Verum turned, slightly startled. With his life style, he wasn’t particularly used to talking to people, and most of the time, no one responded to his mumbled apologies. His tired eyes with their shadows underneath them looked on at the figure asking him the question. She was wearing a simple black dress, having her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Verum was unable to see her face, as she gazed down at her feet.

“H-huh?” Verum began, though he noticed his voice was muffled by the scarf still covering hi mouth. He hurriedly pulled down his scarf below his mouth so it wouldn’t continue to muffle his voice as he spoke, though he fumbled slightly as he did so. ‘Great first impression you’re making here Verum,’ the 16 year old thought to himself. Though admittedly, fumbling like this would probably be better than having to consistently repeat himself because of the scarf covering his mouth. “Oh, n-no. I’m not a competitor. Just here to watch. Though, if I’m being honest, I didn’t even know this tournament, or even the celebration for that matter, was something that happened here,” he began, putting his hands into his pockets as he began to keep them from fidgeting, though he pulled out a small guide mere moments later that depicted some of the locations of importance in Kalos, and opened it to a page depicting the ancient stones outside Geosenge before facing the book towards her to show the page. “I originally came to study the stones here, as well as the history behind them, not watch or participate in any tournaments. In fact, I just recently heard about all the things that happened here in fact. Pretty remarkable that people so young were able to actually defend the region like that. Ah! S-sorry, I guess I’m kind of going off on a bit of a tangent here, huh?”

It was at this moment that Verum’s Gallade noticed his trainer’s absence, and wandered over, only to find him having conversation with someone. Or, well, trying to, the Gallade thought to himself. He approached Verum and stood by his side, his left hand to his forehead in a semi-exasperated expression. His trainer was a fantastic battler, strategist, and all around intelligent person, but when it came to conversation between him and another person, Verum was about as effective as a Magikarp out of water. Galladus had to give his trainer credit though; this was quite possibly one of the best interactions he’d seen come out of him. In most cases, he’d either cut conversations off far too quickly, or he’d run on about pointless things and embarrass himself. It would seem as though now, he was doing neither, giving the other trainer time to respond to his ramblings.
 
When Angel reappeared, pokemon and trainer were met with a foggy route 22. Unbothered, the duo walked south until they met a body of water. Summoning Dawn from her Pokéball and returning Angel for the moment, he commanded Dawn to use surf. After a minute of water travel and descending down a waterfall, he returned Dawn and began to walk through a small field of yellow flowers until reaching a cave opening.

He entered the cave, well, if you can call it a cave. It was more of a chamber in stone, untouched in the darkness. This was the very reason it was officially named the Chamber of Emptiness.
 
Something was getting to Phi.

She felt.. uncomfortable. Her skin prickled, her eyes, lost in an unfocused gaze, seemed wary and lost. The girl's stomach knotted itself, and the girl, as she shifted her weight from side to side, felt vulnerable. Queasy. It was subtle... nothing to worry about, the girl was sure.

Phi pulled her coat closer against herself, the wet fabric chafing her skin.

It was the dragon dance that had gotten to her, the girl concluded. The calmness he fell into. The serenity in the wildfire of the world, as if he had forgotten that it raged just outside of his skin. The absent minded focus, uncaring of the raging world, unable to remember its chaos and its terror as if stuck in a time long past, always forgetting the present as it knocked at his door. He had control of the world, too. It was hard, but he had controlled the storm to a certain degree, he had envisioned it differently than anyone else and made it that way.

Was it the power that unsettled her?

... perhaps.
.. no, no, no. It was something else. She didn't know what it was. Her chest felt cold, but not from the water that clung to it. Her lungs were tight. She had an incurable urge to draw out of the battle, to seclude herself from all of the feelings and thoughts and eyes. To think.

No. This was a battle. This was incredible. This was a time to invest herself in its wildness and beauty, to let the words swirl through her head and click together like a flashflood, cleansing the cobwebs of her mind and flushing it with inspiration.

Time ticked. Sand pricked her taut skin, wind spat on tendrils of hair that had been freed from her goggle strap. As the dragon settled into his solemn, thoughtful dance, her eyes broke from their wary gaze, her mind ticking like two solemn cogs always churning each other on. The wind she rode began to pick up and her face turned tighter, more grim, evidence to a strange spike of concentration as she tried to avoid what she felt by thinking. A breath released, a surge of wind.

Alright.

High, middle, left, C. The goal was to get both Pokemon in the same general area at the same time without making an obvious statement that it was such. Thus, the Pokemon moved gradually, naturally to the place in the field of which she commanded. The middle left of the field. Sans tossing high in the air, Velvet a shadow on the floor. The two always did best when they were together- after all, it only seemed natural. The beast boiling with determination, the bird throttled with lack there of. One let the wind toss him, the other refused to fall, her trophy, a life where she was never knocked off of her feet. One lived in a foreign world, experience centered in a life as unimaginable as the fifth dimension. The other lived in a warped present, with hard experience of what the world was like now. Both were outcasts of reality. Lone wolves. Serious. Wild. A heart of coal working with a steel plated soul.

Time ticked, but the girl no longer felt its passage, swept in a high of contemplation as she stared at the bird. It was he who told her what to do, she who allowed it. He whose experience was the clay that her wiry, stained hands could mold.

The bird was floating half-heartedly, for it appeared that the attack that seeped into his rocky skin had done enough to activate his ability and tug at his defeatist nature, but from the grin in his eyes and the whip of his tail she could tell that the ancient bird still wanted to stand and play, such was his fascination with the two creatures that were his opponents that moved in ways that seemed strange and wild to the foreign visitor, resurrected into this world. There was a moment of peace as the dragon searched for his serenity- a moment in which they could attack, or a moment in which they could rest. The girl liked to fight in a way that thought only of the present, but as she watched the bird, shivering in the air, enveloped with solitude, she knew he was thinking of the future. What best would warrant his survival, not just in this world, but the world that constantly haunted him, a home lost to the wraiths of the past? He'd be longer on the field with more strength, longer there to support, longer there to attack.

''Roost,'' the girl conceded.

As Sans settled in from the sky to land, electricity shredded the girl's line of vision, sparks like shrapnel fleeing the field, beaten down by the sand before they could escape the storm. Adrenaline threw the wind into high speed, the tantrum of a storm forgotten in the shriek of colliding attacks, electric serpents wreathing strands of wind that pulsed away from the point of contact in a rapid, darting motion. Like a spherical shockwave, sand repulsed from the collision, and a dying crackle signified the coming of a deathly silence.

Time stopped. Velvet, face twisted in fright that seemed not to fit the situation, skewed her spine and spread her back legs as she landed on the floor, all four stony paws scoring the field as she skidded to a stop, for it seemed, even in a moment of surprise and shock such as this, she held her ground with an agonizing amount of determination. The lizard appeared to do likewise, glee apparent in an unfitting grin, and although he wasn't deaf, his ears, at the moment, would have heard as much as hers did, for it was as if the wind had stopped at the collision, its serpentine whistle mesmerized, the shroud of sand drawn back in a long, stunned intake of breath. Silence. Like the eye of a storm.

Time ticked on, and the world rushed back in. Phi pulled air in and out of her lungs and it was clear that she was distressed, for the school of sand, thinned by the dragon, revealed the Velvet beast's lips pulled back in a long, silent snarl, her ears, motionless and stony, flattened atop her stubborn skull.

No one touched her head.

No one.

How dare he.

How dare he.

The beast's vision narrowed, her stare like that of a teacher reprimanding her student, her calm demeanor shaded with a stone cold disgust. Something moved at the edge of her vision, and the beast ignored it, dark matter clotting between her teeth as she formed an attack with neither instruction nor thought of her own. Something moved again. Her eye flicked, and her gaze met Phi's.

The attack subsided and her opponent began to disappear into the earth.

Signs, fingers waving in the air. She had to calm down. This battle was for sport, even if her motive was revenge. The beast's curled lips subsided and she straightened, holding her head high like a cat unwilling to admit that she had made a mistake, salvaging pride and solemnity. Velvet glanced around, feeling the shadow of Sans absent, and searched for him with a roving gaze. She found him between her and the dragon, talons solid on the earth, head curled into his wings in a roost, eyes closed. Velvet eyed the girl again, mentally predicting each option, for her mind worked mechanically in a constant search to come out on top. A roar swept the field, announcing a swell in the excitement of battle as the dragon finished his dance, and Phi, swept again into a fury of pondering, gazed at her Pokemon and closed her eyes in what appeared to be a prolonged blink.

The trainer smiled as she processed what both of them wanted, putting their feelings and thoughts into words while guiding their movements, like the banks of a stream. Sans, trapped in Roost as the dragon danced, had begun to uncurl moments after Whips began to charge, eyes of coal staring thoughtfully, head cocking in a repetitive twitch. Velvet, recovered and calm again, was staring accusingly at the ground, head tall, stance stout. She wanted to prove her worth, but she was smart, too. The waryness revealed in her crinkled nose told of a caution, a belief in the power of Phi, for things she didn't understand were playing with her, surprising her. Her gaze, narrow and acute, shivered into vacancy of thought. Sans yearned to help, Velvet grasped at her pride, and a dragon bared upon them both...

The girl began moving her hands and mouth in sync, opening her eyes.

''Rock Slide. Broad. Hold. Velvet-'' the girl spoke the dog's name as her eyes opened and her hand's began to move, seemingly uncaring that it couldn't be heard. She created a D with her hands, the symbol for defence, before she ended the command with the same conducting motion as before. Velvet eyed her movements intently, curious and armored.

Phi's hands flipped over each other, declaring a request to switch opponents, to focus not on the lizard but the Dragonite. The beast seemed to grin, lips turning slightly, facing the dragon with a determined glare that peered through the storm. She watched her trainer's fingers form a wall, then curl into each other, before they left the realm of meaning and fell into meaningless ticks, the dreamy girl staring vacantly as if something had triggered a memory, a fall into the past. Sans cocked his head, half wishing he could do the same, half hoping he never would again.

The dragon was gaining ground fast, but wasn't close quite yet, and as he tore through the storm, master of the wind, the bird stood tall and spread his wings, rocks forming in the air above as if he meant to meet the attack of the dragon with his own. Yet the stones just seemed to hang as they grew, molding sand into rock, spread across the air in a broad manner, obeying solely the ancient bird as he cocked his head in repetitive, twitchy movements. His wings obscured the view of the Herdier as she slipped behind the bird, close enough to nip at his tail.

She eyed her opponent through the feathers of Sans, and then broke into the first sound the silent beast had made the whole match.

A long, curdled, withered yelp, like a scream, inhuman, curling out of her mouth and writhing in the air. She had been deaf her whole life and thus, the creature had no sense of sound, of how she should sound. As such, the sound was curdled. Thin. Tied in knots. High pitched. Determined. Above all else, it was a scream. The physical equivalent of a sort of admiration twisted in knots by determination.

She'd faced things bigger than herself, she'd ruled creatures of wit and creatures of strength, she'd been the wraith of countless Pokemon, leading the head of their packs, but she'd never faced a dragon before.

Could she prove that nothing could really knock her off of her feet?

Velvet snapped her jaws shut, widening her stance, the noise evaporating as if it had never existed. Shying directly behind the bird's wings, focusing her eyes, digging her feet into the ground so that the stone hard appearance was more fact than fiction, Velvet flicked her head and a screen appeared, shimmering as it was raked by sand. Protect. In a strange act of openness, the velvet pawed beast closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drawing in strength. The attack hit the barrier, aiming for the roosting bird she stood directly behind, and the beast lowered her head, a sheen to her coat. She was using Strength as well. Hands interlocked in a wall, then curled into each other. Protect and Strength. How else was a long-legged pup supposed to never fall?

She had found the answer long before she had met Phi. She just needed the girl to help her procure it. And then... oh, the strength she felt, the power in her bones, the confidence in her ghostly gait. She'd never fall again.

The dog winced. Her back right hip was causing her pain. She began to skid, the barrier growing weaker, splintering, shattering. A dragon dance'd iron head from a being stronger than she was...

Sans stirred from his stance, wings folding into himself, rocks hanging around him in the air as he squirmed away from the two, wriggling through the folds of earth like a feathered snake. The wildness in the world was subsiding, pressure causing it to flee, and the bird felt a need to make this right, to bring back the chaos of it all.

''Now, if you will. On the field''

Oh, yes.

Sans began to run. His gait was quick, weaving in serpentine patterns through the storm as he slithered around the protect and away from the two as quickly as they had collided, the hopping of a normal bird abandoned for a full on race. Wings spread, he held them steady, darting beneath the dragon just as Velvet began to slide. Neck flat, he cocked his head continuously, an involuntary, constant flick.

The rocks that had formed around him began to fall like some sort of large, distorted hail, smaller than the average rock in a rock slide yet more numerous in number, misshapen in shape, built in various sizes. As he continued to run, they began to hit the earth, the ground shuddering in their wake, vibrations running amok on the battlefield, splintering the surface of the earth like an earthquake that only affected the crusty upper layers. When the last rock had fallen the field would be as cluttered as the floor of a forest just as all the acorns began to fall and the rotting fruit splattered, oozing into the leaf mold in the manner that the rocks oozed into the earth. A few them fell upon the dragon himself, but it appeared that they quickly eroded before they could reach the skin, like meteors turned to dust by the atmosphere of the earth. It would have been nice to hit the dragon, too, but it appeared the power of the iron head had done its job well, shielding him just as he had hoped.

Perspective was a peculiar thing, Phi thought. If you considered something from a different point of view, it seemed everything changed. From above the field, whatever was beneath the field was impenetrable. Shielded by layers and layers of earth. But if you imagined that you were the being beneath the field... yes, you weren't so invisible now. You had to think about that next step, about what could obscure the goal, what could impact you, how you were supposed to keep that link to the outside world. Vibrations were one of the only forms of communication to the surface that the girl could think of, aside from sound, which the girl wouldn't exactly place bets on. And on this she had pondered as soon as the Charmander escaped into the earth in queer, strained movements, staring at the bird as he, too, thought about the situation in his own way- that of a hunter of old, as a creature of a different world, constantly having to determine just how different things worked.

The hope was for the vibrations of the impact to protect Velvet and Sans, confusing and disorienting the Charmander who needed to listen for the patter of their feet to find them. If they got lucky, the force might cave in his trail as well, but the bird doubted he'd dig close enough to the surface for that to happen. In addition, the rocks were a lot harder than the field itself. Couldn't be dug through as easily. If they perched upon them, it would be a lot easier to sense when the lizard came out of the earth if he couldn't come out right beneath their feet.

The beast struggled to stay put, skidding and sliding as she tried to maintain the protect long enough for whatever was coming next to happen, the power of Strength helping her hold her position as if the protect wasn't just a simple wall but an extended force of herself. She hadn't really a clue as to what the endgame here was and the beast guessed that Phi didn't really either, too much lost in the past to think of the future, but to the beast that didn't matter. This was a game of power and mastery, of pride and strength. The velvet pawed beast lowered her head, eyes narrowed with concentration, head lowered in a show of raw humility, pride evaporated by the challenge she faced. More than once it seemed her hip gave in the short time that she faced the attack, but she splayed her front legs and bared her teeth because she couldn't bare to lose.

She was fighting a dragon.

She was taking on the world.
 
Curt and Whips knew this much about Phi, it should have come as absolutely no surprise to them now, but still that way she have Velvet protect Sans with a Protect move while the ancient bird Roosted, and then countered with a Rock Slide, it was nothing sort of incredible. Not just the strategy, no, many trainers would have their Pokemon do that same thing, if their Pokemon were capable of such a feat. Whips' Iron Head crashed through the Rock SLide attack and slammed against Velvets Protect with such force that is split the very ground of the arena, and yet the Protect stood, just strong enough the endure the force of Whips attack. Whips had plowed through many Protect's before since becoming a Dragonite, and even a few back when he was a Dratini and Dragonair, but for this Herdier to have the power to project a Protect strong enough to endure an attack from Whips? Both Pokemon and trainer were left wondering how that dog hadn't made its evolution into a Stoutland with such strength, maybe it was in a similar situation as Embertail? Either way, the Pokemon's power and quick reaction time to their trainers orders was just another testament to their will, and Phi's incredible capabilities as a trainer. Of course, this development left Curt regretting a bit that Embertail was forced to use dig, with Sans grounded, an Earthquake attack would be perfect, but with Embertail underground, such an attack would surly knock the Charmander out, not to mention it would be horribly cruel to his lizard brother.

It was funny, they were technically on the losing end of this match, but both Curt and Whips felt a sort of thrill in facing Phi, Velvet, and Sans. Not since they...they fought Cassie, Fang, and Ryu did a group of opponent's give them such a fight, even Whips seemed to be almost grinning after the initial shock passed of seeing Velvet block his Iron Head! Whips was a dragon, and dragons were proud, but there was no shame in losing to a worthy opponent, and these three were indeed worthy opponents. But at the same time, there was much glory to be gained in defeating those who presented a challenge, and neither Whips, nor Curt, nor Embertail were going to let even the slightest chance at victory escape from their grasp! So long as they had strength to fight, they would keep on fighting Sans, Velvet, and Phi with everything they had! Whips Iron Head had shielded him from the worst of the Rock Slide, but it also slowed him enough so that his attack would do no damage to Velvet or Sans. This left Whips in close quarters in with Sans and Velvet, which was perfect as far as the Dragonite and his human was concerned. Whips may have had a bit of a rough patch with Embertail and Curt after he had evolved, but they had managed to sort things out recently and would be able to work together with excellent synergy, the deveoplement of the current battle proved that. All Whips had to do was keep his opponents attention till Embertail resurfaced, which looked like it would be easy to do, seeing as they were focusing their fire-power on him. A sound strategy, but normally in this case one that might lead to their downfall, Whips was certainly stronger then Embertail, but letting your guard down around that Charmander had lead to many opponents doom.

Embertail, meanwhile, was tunneling through the ground with a ferocity that was very unlike the Charmander. Embertail was digging through the ground with an intensity, as though there was something he was trying to prove, not just to the crowd or his opponents, or even his allies, but to himself. Instead of the normally swift, light-hearted strokes he would make through the ground, he digging was filled with a blind sense of fury and persistence that did not suit the Charmander at all, and it wasn't just the shock-waves from the collisions above that was making his tunneling inaccurate. The Charmanders usual style was optimistic determination, a sense of belief of oneself and his allies that inspired and lifted them, pushing all to be more then they could be, with an unexpected cheer in their hearts, as sense of feeling that, if they pushed themselves just a bit more, then everything would turn out alright. Needless to say, this wasn't the cheerful passion that usually accompanied the Charmander, recent events had twisted Embertails world view to trying to fit this new style, a style that did not fit Embertail at all. Still, the stunted dragon dug through the dirt, and was on the verge of making a big break through with a surprise attack, an attack the would leave both Velvet and Sans reeling from the devastation. His flame crackled as he fought throug the paralysis and ignited himself in his own fire, and burst through the ground in an incredible Flare Blitz attack, thrown forward with such intensity that scorched the ground around entry. Even Sans with his resistances to fire would have been damaged by the intensity of the attack!

If only Embertail had emerged right under Velvet and Sans.

As it stood, Embetail had burst out of the ground a good ten feet away from the location Velvet and Sans were, and all Embertail got from the efforts were a decent fire show for the crowd, and some wounds sustained from the recoil of the Flare Blitz. The Charmander popped out of the ground and skidded to a painful halt a few yards away from the rest of the Pokemon, leaving both Whips and Curt in a confused state. This wasn't the first time Embertail acted without waiting for orders, sure, but as impetuous as he could be, the Lizard Pokemon never acted without thinking something as big as this through. Such a move, such an attack, seemed extraordinary reckless, even for Embertail.

"E-embertail, w-why did you? What's going....? Ah forget it, EMBETAIL, ADVANCE ON VELVET WITH BRICK BREAK IF YOU CAN, YOU NEED TO BREAK UP HER AND SANS, WHIPS, PUSH THE ATTACK WITH AQUA TAIL", Curt cried to his friends. They were simple commands, but considering the situation they had gotten into, it was the best they could do at the time being. But despite vocally questioning his friends actions, deep down inside, both Curt, Whips, hell, even the rest of the team that was currently spectating, knew what was going on with Embertail, and knew the thought pattern behind the Charmanders actions. Recent...events and personal discoveries had lead to Embertail having some severe self doubt issues, not only about his own potential, but also about who he was as a Pokemon. In the end, no one could blame him, they had all been there during that revelation, and no one would fault the Lizard Pokemon for his self doubt issues. Still, they had a fight to win, and they all needed to give it there all if they had even a slimmer of hope of defeating Velvet, Sans, and Phi.

Whips doubled down on his efforts, taking the Rock Slide attack in strides and trying yet another Aqua Tail on the prehistoric bird Pokemon. Meanwhile Embertail, who gave himself a quick duel slap on the head in frustration, charged at Velvet with yet another Brick Break attack, this one a bit more sloppily prepared then the previous ones, whether that was due to his paralysis, to his own personal demons, or due to both, only Embertail could say for sure.. Still, both Pokemon charged at their targets, their opponents, with fury and determination in their hearts. Neither Pokemon nor trainer wanted to lose this match, inspite of the fact that their opponent was one of the toughest they ever faces. They all could tell, even through the Sandstorm, they could see the fire in Phi's eye's, a look shared with her teammates, both Velvet and Sans wanted to claim victory as much as their trainer, and as much as their opponents. Indeed, it would take everything Embertail, Whips, and Curt had to stay in this match, and even a bit more if they wanted to claim victory.
 
Sand, wind, a surge of heat as the earth exploded, torn apart by flames like a massive magma claw. Sweat, smoke, the earth itself seemed on fire, crackling red and orange ribbons tangled in the air, picked up by a lashing wind and mixed with grit, dust, and sand until the storm itself seemed made of super-heated earth, so fierce were the flames that it seemed almost hot enough to liquidize the tantrum of a sandstorm. A surge of heat, wind serpents of fury tearing apart the turmoil of crimson and blood orange as if the storm itself was one great mouth, chewing and spitting out the flames, wind as sharp as pearl white incisors. The attack swelled, then floundered, thinning and dying, revealing the shadow of its creator, skidding upon the earth.

Velvet stood stunned at the Flare Blitz attack, a wave of heat worming into her thick coat of fur for, despite the distance at which the attack was executed, she could still feel the power and intensity of the flames, as raw as an open wound. Catching herself, the velvet pawed beast drew in a sharp spurt of breath and darted low for a bound or three out of instinct, as if she expected an attack to be sneaking towards her, trying to catch the long legged creature just as she was off her guard. And indeed she expected just this, for experience had taught her that to be stunned or to appear weak was to be prone and lose the fight all together.

A few darting glances told the Herdier of her safety, for it seemed her opponents seemed just as surprised as she was, eyes glazed and mouths ajar in confused, contemplative frowns. Realizing her safety, she stood straighter, raising her head and shoulders like a prideful cat, pretending that nothing had happened to jar her from her stone like demeanor.

Phi watched the dog with a curious gaze, recalling the number of times she'd stood in that manner, head high, left ear flopped upon her head by some obscure corruption in her DNA. Then the girl thought again of the Flare Blitz, for so wild were the ribboned flames and so powerful was the wave of heat that it was as nothing she had ever seen, no surprise matched, no fire as hot or flame as captivating. She found herself taking a step forwards from where she had stood, mesmerized by an intensity she had never expected to captivate her, to wind into her ear canals and pulse the most rigid of hearts. Gone was her paralyzing fear that had caused her stomach to churn or her skin to itch, replaced instead with a powerful silence, for she had stepped into the edges of the storm and it pulsed against her ears and shrouded out all sound, a long, howling cloak of wind, and the wind coaxed her hair out of the goggle strap until it whipped and lashed like a bed of snakes, sand raking against her skin until she felt she could laugh out of pure exhilaration. It struck the girl that perhaps she wasn't supposed to feel this way, more astounded than the Pokemon who were fighting for her, with more adrenaline in her veins than even Sans, the wild, lover of this chaos she found herself ingrained within, and she laughed at the thought, for it was as if she were the Pokemon instead of herself.

Dreamily, the girl turned, watching as Curt called the next attacks, unable to hear the words he spoke, such was the ghostly howl of the wind. Recognizing the attacks as the Pokemon began to move, the girl, clearing out stray thoughts, focused again on the battle, eyes pins and voice like a river drawn out from the storm.

''Into the rocks. Retreat. Cloak with Dragon Breath. Velvet...'' again, the girl trailed off as she spoke, transitioning instead to movements of the hand. A C with her hands again, balling her left hand up and using the other to shield it, as if it was a cloak. A slap of the palms, the end of the command.

Velvet raised her head higher in a manner that resembled grinning. The two Pokemon, as if as one, whirled on their feet and dashed into the remnants of the rock slide, one a swift, shadow-like gait, the other like a snake swerving through the rocks, long tail curling behind him and head cocking involuntarily. They stayed close together, Velvet slightly ahead of the bird as they used the fallen attack as cover, weaving in and out so that for one moment they were twenty feet apart and the next they could have felt each other's breath. The girl slashed her hands and drew them around as if she were a conductor of an orchestra or perhaps even a ballet and Velvet, bounding in such a manner to be sure that the Charmander stayed on her tail, swerved far from the bird, closely tucked to the left of a large rock while the bird hugged tightly to the same rock's right edge and swerved around it, one wing spread for balance while the other was tucked close, his beaked mouth hung slightly ajar and a dark, swirling, galaxy like energy swelling within it, glistening off of his four, pearly white teeth. His opponent neared, Velvet rebounded off of a rock behind the bird, and Sans released his attack at Whips, the breath sped on with a roar of the wind, fanning out as it neared the dragon and cloaking the sand with an iridescent blue that within swirled threads of purple and green, causing the sand to glimmer faintly like shards of a star. And then, at once, the cloak was ripped in two by the Aqua Tail as it surged towards the bird, and Velvet erupted from beneath it like a shadow come to life, with one bound meeting the paralyzed lizard, fangs shrouded with a Crunch attack. Eyes gleaming with an uncharacteristic glee, the long legged dog dashed low, slowing her speed so that she came to a stop on the side of the lizard, beneath his attack. Purposefully, the long legged beast took it, lowering herself and tightening her legs with its force before she surged upwards, hoping again to unbalance the creature, craning her neck in an attempt to dig her fangs between the scales, as she had done at the beginning of the match, the force and position in which she surged causing her to rise on her hind legs and lean in upon the Charmander.

Sans gurgled as the dog dashed beneath his torn cloak of an attack, bracing himself for the impact of the Aqua Tail. It came quicker than he had expected, for the Dragon Dance had changed the master of the wind in a manner that the bird didn't understand, causing him to grow stronger and faster than the bird had predicted he'd be. The attack, like a water scythe, slashed through the storm and cut into his chest and the bird, trapped on the ground, having found no way to lessen its intensity, was thrown against the rocks that had become his shields with such force that they crumbled and cracked beneath his body and his claws. Shaken, Sans sluggishly raised his head and blinked, feeling the wind of the storm worm beneath his feathers like a weakened breath, slowly raising his wings and breathing heavy as the wind, stunned, seemed to weaken with his resolve. His mind, cogs of his coal heart, angered at such a change in the wildness of it all and for this the bird rose, particles of his Dragon Breath gleaming in the storm around him like shards of a galaxy. He trilled, the storm surged, and the bird beat his wings twice as the galaxy littered storm surged around them and beneath them, and, with allowance from the girl, they began to glow platinum, sand glancing off of them as if they had become steel. Yet, the bird seemed to make no move to make use of this Steel Wing attack, and he simply stood and stared, unwilling to show the weakness in his limbs, nor the slowness of his pace.

Phi sighed, frustrated by the nature of her bird companion, for it was as if he had already given up, and the storm surged, tantrum like, a school of sand around them all, for it cared naught of anything but to be wild and hazardous and grand, to play with ribbons of fire and tear the curtain of Dragon Breath until it had become shards of energy long spent, glimmering like a broken galaxy.

And Phi grinned, hair a whipping bed of snakes, eyes glazed over as if she were seeing something else entirely.
 
Perhaps he should have thought his plan a little more than "act casual".

And it's impossible to act casual on purpose when your Gerald.

But someone wanted him to see something? Something about possibly fighting Curt, or Phi...The boy's eyes shifted up on the speaker. And his expression transformed into a grimace as he spotted the nasty head wound decorating Deo's scalp. June cringed as she saw the blood dripping down his head, while Puff kept his gazers on the crinkled article, illegible and being held the wrong way. The fox gave an angry scowl at her companion, rolled her own magazine into a a cylinder shape. And then with a quick motion, whacked the nervous rabbit on the backside of his head.

Realizing he was gawking more than speaking, the young man straightened up. "Uh, Sorry about that, I mean, uh. Yes! Yes, I was, uh, just heading there. Thanks for the heads up, uh, uh..." Gerald further succumbed into embarrassment as he realized this was Deo, his next opponent. "Uh. Hey, your, uh, Deo, right?" Finally remembering he was holding a Shedinja, the shell was dropped into the open space next to him. "Heh, sorry about...that. That guy's, um, Empty. My Shedinja. I'm sure he's pleased to meet you."

Empty wasn't actually looking at anything, still staring from the position where Gerald set him.

"I think, at least. And, this is, um, June, who I'm sure you've seen before."

The fox did a little smile and a wave, remaining calm. Out of the group, it seemed only she was the one who was truly casual.

"And, uh, Puff. My Lopunny."

Puff, who was still rubbing the back of his head, was spooked by the sudden mention of his name. Straightening up, the rabbit but on a (albeit bad) facade of a friendly smile, but anyone with any experience in Pokemon or human feelings would see the nervousness in his eyes and smile.

"As for the battle, uh, that's great and all, but maybe you should get your head checked out, it looks like that ro-" Gerald paused for a second, realizing his mistake. "It looks like something hit you pretty hard."
 
To most people, Curt's plan of action went as well as one would expect considering the circumstances, hell, it probably went better then anyone would expect. With Embertail paralyzed, Whips thrown off by that protect, and their opposition dominating the terrain with the Sandstorm, most people would have given up the match for just about lost then and their. No doubt many people in the crowd were already chalking up Curt, Embertail, and Whip's match as a lost, but amongest the crowd, the rest of their team, their friends, watched with unbroken gaze. They knew better, they didn't make it to the top 8 in the Kanto Pokemon League Tournament, win the Slateport Tournament, or survive against that space monster by giving into defeat the moment things looked bad, and they were going to exemplify that here. They weren't going to go down that easily.

They watched as Sans and Velvet attempted to maneuver into the rocks to avoid Whip's Aqua Tail assault, perhaps also attempting to use the sands of the sandstorm as a sort of veil to negate the damage in addition to dancing through the rocks. The later part of the plan did practically nothing, moisture might be hard to come by given the circumstances, but Whips was a Dragonite, and Dragonite were masters of the elemental forces. Whips was able to cut through Sans sandstorm shield with easy, but what proved to be a bit harder to cut through, was Sans unexpected Dragon Breath attack. It had to be said, neither Whips nor Curt were expecting a Dragon-Type attack from this pre-historic bird, ironic considering one of their favorite strategies was barraging their opponents with moves one wouldn't normally expect a Pokemon of there type to learn (such as Jasper with her Ice Beam and Flamethrower combo). Curt mentally scolded himself for having Whips blindly charge at Sans like that, granted, though Whips wasn;t fast, neither was he terribly slow, and against a normal opponent Whips could just tank through any attack they through at him, but Sans wasn't a normal opponent. Whips grunted as he crashed through the attack and made an attempt at striking Sans, hopefully damaging the bird before making a quick attempt to disengage, though that was doubtful, in all likelihood, the Dragon Breath attack would have forced Whips of his course, given Sans more then enough berth to evade the move. But if nothing else though, Whips got some distance, the Dragon Breath attack proved to have made the attack a high risk, high reward move at best, the dragonic energy had burned seeped through Whips' scales and caused direct to the Dragonite. Granted, Whips was a bulky Pokemon with endurance to spare, but with that last attack, even he was starting to show signs of being worn down. His heavy breathing, the wounds all over his body, one would assume the Dragon would be worried, but in truth, this was what Whips lived for, fighting strong opponents that tested his limits...Sans, Velvet, and Phi had proven themselves powerful opponents and the smile on the Dragonites face, in spite of his wounds, showed that he was loving every second of this battle.

Things were going a bit differently on Embertails end, Velvet had dodged the Brick Break and picked back up on her Crunch assault, barraging the Charmander with a series of light Crunch attacks to whittle down what little stamina Embertail had left, and there was little he could do to dodge her attacks while paralyzed. Embertail made vain attempts at striking at the Herdier, with no success, all while trying to keep that optimistic smile on his face, but it was clear that Embertail was obviously worried about the situation he had gotten into. He didn't get it, he was pushing himself as hard as he could, putting his all into this fight, so why wasn't he winning? Curt stood, eye's locked on Embertail more then Whips, the Dragonite was keeping his cool, but his fire-tailed buddy seemed on the verge of panic, and Curt couldn't blame him at all. Speed was Embertails specialty, he loved to run, to dart around his opponents and try to confound them, or match his speed against another speedy opponent. His speed was his soul, take that away from him and left the Charmander crippled, with little more then decent physical combat skills and maybe a few other tricks. Not only that, the poor guy seemed like he was on the verge of collapse, unless they came up with form of counter to Velvets attacks, Embertail was as good as done.

"Wait a...THAT'S IT, EMBERTAIL, JUST WAIT, KEEP YOUR GUARD UP AND EYES ON VELVET, LET HER COME TO YOU!", Curt yelled to his Lizard Pokemon friend. The Charmander turned and gave Curt a quick, almost pleading glance, as though he was begging him to come up with something else as a form of counter-attack, "LOOK, I KNOW IT'S RISKY, AND WE HAVEN'T PRACTICED IT AS MUCH AS WE'D LIKE, BUT IT'S OUR ONLY OPTION LEFT, IT'S ALL OR NOTHING NOW EMBERTAIL, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT!" Though Curts assuring words were of some help to alleviate Embertails worry, it was a bit more then his lack of practice with the move that bothered the fire-tailed Pokemon. It hardly took anytime for Embertail to piece together what Curt was planning, and though just a month ago he would have been excited at the opportunity to try something this daring, now he was...not as happy to go along with it. However, his hesitance had less to due with the plan and more to do with himself once again being out classed by an opponent in sheer power and ability. Still, he knew it was their only course of action left, Embertail felt like he could barely stand and factoring in the paralysis reducing his speed...The Charmander would have let out a sigh if he wasn't panting so heavily, as once again he would have to resort to trickery to win a battle against yet another foe stronger then him, it seemed lately that was the only way he could win a battle. Still, if it allowed him to win, then so be it, he didn't want to lose, Jasper was able to prove her strength to the doubtful crowed by beating Zeph and his partner during her battle, and Embertail wanted to do the same! Bracing himself, he kept his eyes on the storm, waiting for Velvet to charge at him, though the occasional surge of numbness coursed through his body, the Fire-type managed to keep himself alert.

And then there it was, the pitter-pattering of feet, even through the (admittedly weakened) roar of the sandstorm he could hear his opponent encroaching in on him. When they were kids, Embertail and Curt often played around by digging in the back of their yard, at the time they liked to pretend they were looking for treasure, and though they found a few neat things, the real reward for them was Embertails easier mastery of dig(though that could also be attributed to Jasper's father helping teach him the move). It wasn't just a useful utility move, it also forced him to rely on his other senses instead of his eyes, as such, the training had sharpened his other senses as well(it was hard to see your opponent when 5-10 feet of dirt is blocking them from view), it had given him a small sort of connection with the earth in a similar vein to ground-type Pokemon. That training had payed off countless times, and right now, this was just going to add to that already impressive number! Bracing himself, Embertail waited till Velvet was almost on him, he knew she was trying to stay on his tail, what she believed to be his most vulnerable side. That's what the short tailed dog probably didn't understand, some believed that a long tail just served as extra target area, and though that was true in some cases, with a little practice, a tail could be utilized into a deadly weapon just like any other body part, which Embertail was about to show her! Velvet threw herself at Embertail, jaw encased in the dark energies of another crunch attack and.....

"EMBERTAIL NOW! COUNTER!", Curt yelled moments before Velvet sunk her teeth into Embertails moderately thick scaled backside. Embertail winced in pain, almost buckled too, but was able to push forward and, tail a-glow with a mystical white energy, struck back at Velvet, the damage dealt to him would be returned to the Loyal Pokemon two-fold if it his! Curt emitted a vocal cry of "YES!" at seeing the attack, at the very least, keep the Terrier Pokemon at bay, so long as they had Counter, her and Phi's "hit-and-run" strategy wasn't going to be half as effective. Curt had wished he had Embertail do this from the start, but they had only just started practicing with the move a few months ago after Embertail used it on a fluk against the Viridian City Gym Leaders Blastoise. Still, Curt was more then happy with the results, and incredibly proud of Embertail for pulling it off, even Whips took a brief moment to flash Embertail a quick smile of approval after heraing the crash of a successful Counter. But of course, the tides of battle ebbs and flow, and what determines the strength of a fighter is not just how well one utilizes a golden opportunity, its how well they handle themselves when stuck with a bad one. Though Embertail and Curt had been a fairly decent job of handling thier bad situation, it turned out Velvet and Phi also knew how to work with the advantages given to them all to well.

Another jolt surged through Embertail, the paralysis kicking up and dropping Embertail to one knee, his moment of jubilation at the successful Counter attack, gone in an instant, and Velvet wasted no time on taking the opening. The Loyal Pokemon struck Embertail with one more, powerful crunch, causing Embertail to give out one more cry before being shoved back by the deaf dog. Embertail back-peddled back a bit, before stumbling over backwards onto the ground.

"EMBERTAIL! A-ARE YOU ALRIGHT, CAN YOU STAND?", Curt yelled to his friend. Embertail made an attempt to pick himself up, struggling against the weight of his own body, but in the end, the damage Velvet had inflicted on him proved just a little to great to over come. Embertail couldn't find the strength to tough it out for this battle, and collapsed back on the ground once more, his eyes spinning in a exhausted daze. Not only was it clear did Velvet have Embertail beat in terms of sheer strength, Phi made it clear that she was able to out-play and out-think Curt in this battle of speed masters.

"EMBERTAIL IS UNABLE TO BATTLE, HE IS OUT OF THE MATCH!", the Referee cried, causing the crowed to emit a wide variety of cheers, some happy at turn of the battle in Phi and her teams favor, others in upset at dire situation that Curts team had ended up in. None of that mattered to Curt now, as he ran onto the field to check on his collapsed friend, making it to his side in moments. Luckily it seemed, Phi and her team were allowing Curt the moment to make sure his buddy was alright.

"Embertail, are you all right, say something!?", Curt worriedly said to his companion. True, at first glance Embertails wounds looked far from severe, but you could never be too sure about this sort of thing. Normally, if Embertail was fine (or even if he wasn't) the Charmander would do something silly, like blow a raspberry at him or try to sporadically hope back up, even if he was tired. But this time, the Charmander just let Curt help him up, threw him a sad smile, and growled out that he was alright, which didn't do much to alleviate Curts worry. Normally Embertail wouldn't have minded much that he lost, especially if he put up a good fight, he certainly wasn't a sore loser, but recent events had given the Charmander a stronger desire to prove himself, but also self doubts about his own potential and capabilities. Curt couldn't help but feel bad for his buddy, he had been on the losing end of most of his battles lately and really needed a good win against a tough opponent (such as Velvet and Phi) to put him back on his feet. Sadly, it didn't seem like such a thing was meant to be, that Herdier and her trainer proved themselves to be a little too much for Curt and Embertail to handle.

"Hey, don't worry Ember's, you did great out there, and way to pull of that Counter at the last moment, really impressive, I-I should have had you use it from the get go...", Curt said with a smile, trying to brighten the Charmanders mood a little. Though Embertail gave him another smile a tried to look a bit chipper, Curt had a feeling Embertail was just didn't want Curt to worry about him and that his mood wasn't really improved by much. Even a few friendly words from Whips didn't seem to help much, still, it was clear that right now they shouldn't press the issue, besides, they still had a battle to fight! Whips was by himself now, and though many would consider a two on one battle like this to be all but called in Phi's teams favor, Whips did not go down easy, not when he was a Dratini, not when he was a Dragonair, and certainly not as a Dragonite. It takes an incredible amount of training and inner strength for a Pokemon to reach their final form, even more so for Pseudo-Legendary Pokemon, and for good reason. A fully evolved Pseudo-Legendary Pokemon is one of the most powerful Pokemon a trainer could hope to obtain, only a handful of people on the planet had the fortune to count even one on their team. Curt never though he would be one of those people, like the rest of his friends, he could scarcely believe it when Whips evolved into a Dragonite not too long ago, the idea of a trainer like him having a Pseudo-Legendary on his team seemed ludicrous (but then again, Curt couldn't believe his luck with every member of his team). For him to have a Dragonite, a Pokemon so incredibly rare and unbelievably powerful, that they were once known in some lands as "A God of Destruction", was just a far of fantasy to him. But now was not the time to gush over Whips, right now, they were going to show everyone the legendary and mythical power a Dragonite possessed, and why you should never count a Pokemon like Whips out of a fight, no matter how bad it seemed!

Alright Whips, you're by yourself now, so we can't afford to hold anything back, it's all or nothing now, SO LETS HIT THEM WITH EARTHQUAKE AND THEN FOLLOW IT UP WITH ANOTHER AQUA TAIL ON SANS, FORCE HIM INTO THE SKY FOR AN AERIAL BATTLE!", Curt cried. Whips gaze locked on his opponents and he lifted up a few feet in the air, and then came crashing down of the field, sending massive shockwaves through it and tearing it asunder in some places. Despite being a flying-type, the Earthquake was meant for Sans just as much a Velvet, though the shockwaves would be nearly impossible for the Herdier to dodge without lagging herself with another Protect, it also forced Sans to say in the air, and Curt noticed something about that Archeops and the air. He now understood why Archeops could run as fast as they flew, for one reason or another, it seemed Archeops struggled a bit to say in the air, or at least, it seemed more taxing on them then sprinting along the ground. Whips could fly himself, so Sans aerial advantage wouldn't bother them too badly, but if there was a chance that forcing Sans in the air would tire the ancient bird out quicker, then it was a chance worth taking. Not only that, but if they kept this restricted to an aerial battle, Velvet would have a harder time attacking them, the Herdier seemed to favor physical attacks, so staying out of her reach seemed like the way to go for this match.

Immediately after loosing his 'quake, Whips was back on the offensive again, coating his tail in another sheet of water, taking to the air, and cutting through the sandstorm to strike at Sans. Though Dragonite were no strangers to water, some often making a home for themselves in the big blue, Whips still wasn't a Water-Type Pokemon, and as such, it was getting harder and harder to pull what little moisture the was left for an attack. Still, he knew there was enough for at least one more solidly powerful Aqua Tail attack, they just hoped that it would be enough to get them closer to victory. With Embertail out, things were looking a bit grim for them, but they would fight on, like they always did.
 
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Her vision was a mixture of light and sand, a school of browns and greys spiraling against her goggles in such swathes that she could just peer beneath their branches, eyeing the flitting shadows of the stormy world that she had dived into-a rock, looming, sturdy, and tall, a bird, with the undeniable flick of a long, serpentine tail, her opponent, with a gleam of his fiery tail, the flames pulled back and forth by the storm like long, skinny ribbons, sparks pulling off of the small flame and dragging it with them until it seemed to resemble a mouth filled with sharp, crackling incisors. She wondered, for a moment, as she'd done once before during the match, why he hadn't used any of them. The velvet pawed beast wasn't exactly keen in the exact classification of Pokemon, nor at who exactly this lizard creature was, but she knew for a fact, as one had to know, that it was important to use every asset one had, and he, surely, had his flames.

Forgoing thoughts until a time of peace, the stiff haired dog ducked through the folds of sand for another attack, eyeing closely both enemy and friend, feeling the wind coat her flank and spur her on. Darkness gleamed around her fangs and she parted her jaws as she dived, aimed for the small of the back, careful to evade the tip of the tail but uncaring of the rest of its nature, for she'd mastered many creatures and it was always the fangs and claws one had to dodge, always those to keep an eye on. After all, she only had two eyes, and these were quite busy as it was. No sense that she couldn't prioritize her gaze.

With a flare of light and a surge of force against her chest, the velvet pawed beast found that her priorization had been off the mark and at once felt a flare of guilt, for, in the heat of her wolf like nips, she'd forgotten to eye Phi as well. Perhaps the girl had noticed the potential attack, or heard something, or whatever it was that the girl managed to do to always see more than she did. Or perhaps they had both ended up bewildered and left in the dark.

Little of the thought chain mattered, and the beast abandoned it as she forcefully jerked her head and twisted her spine so that her back legs splayed as they ran ruts into the malleable battle ground and centralized her balance, the number one tactic to always remaining on all fours, the dog thought with a certain traditional tone in her voice. Just ask any cat worth their claws. Raising her head to hide the surprise in her expression and running her tongue along her teeth to conceal her forceful panting, she flicked her stony ear in a sign of respect.

Once tricked, a lucky stand.
Twice tricked, a worthy opponent.

And yet he seemed... odd. His movements, once forceful, were stopped all together, his infectious grin was razed by a look of concentration, his muscles were trapped and he had that look in his eyes that she'd seen a thousand times before, with a thousand other fights, with a thousand other creatures both ally and foe. The connection was instantaneous in her brain, and she launched herself back towards him without a single thought in her head but a powerful surge in her veins and a slight downwards tilt to her snout, causing the goggles to catch the light and turn her eyes into flat, featureless discs without a single expression of their own but a sheer white glint.

The world shifted around her, a thousand scents wiggling onto the roof of her mouth, a coldness collapsing onto her dark furred coat and a grit of dirt beneath her paws, and she moved not as one but as a thousand different pieces and a thousand different lives and a thousand particles of sand that surged into her skin and drove her forwards to dig her teeth into her scales and taste the grit of a battle won. She lacked thought, overwhelmed by an incredible, indisputable awe, so that her muscles seemed to move on her own accord and the world seemed to move with them and every single tiny fleck of fur was overpowered by an intensity of instinct as she dealt the final blow, eyes discs of a sheer white glint.

Any dark type worth their fangs could sense when the fight was won.

He recoiled, struggled, and fell. Aided by a friend, the two left the battle field, and the Herdier was left, sitting, to pant and lick her hip, stiff hairs frayed by the battle and the sand.

The wind whirled, pulsing against her skin and weeding beneath the hairs of her long, stiff coat, causing a chill to run up her spine despite the heated nature of the battle. She could almost imagine how it might sound, from the way it churned across her flank and slithered beneath her fur to wash away her skin like a downpour of rain that couldn't be scented nor sighted but only felt. She didn't have the words to describe the sound she imagined, but the Herdier was sure it was large and hollow, powerful, waning and growing as the wind itself died and then flung itself back into existence, billowing and cleansed of rasp or rust, absolutely pure yet ghostly and smooth as a snowdrift, perhaps even glowing in the same eerie manner as snow did beneath the stars. But the dog had never really... heard anything, and she felt it a silly hobby to imagine sound. After all, she didn't really know what it meant to hear, other than the own thoughts that echoed inside her head. But even those were tinny, with little substance, surely not what sound actually was.

Her world was silent, and that was that.

Always had been and always would be.

Phi stepped backwards, out of the howl of the storm that seemed to erode all other sound, out of the lash of the wind and the grit of its passengers that pulled her hair from the strap and lashed it unceasingly against her cheeks as if it were a bed of snakes. Adrenaline subsided, and her eyes grew soft as her gaze seemed to float upon the worried trainer and his goofy salamander, thinking of things from a time long past. For a moment, the girl watched curiously as Velvet tagged the two for a pace or five before pausing at the edge of the battlefield and returning to where she had sat before with a subtle flick of her stony ear. Despite the knowledge of her companion, the girl was bemused by such an action, reminded that her resolute, lone wolf of a Pokemon wasn't as cold as she might have wanted to believe. But then the world swirled to conceal her from view, and when she returned the beast was staring at Phi with those dark black eyes in a calculated gaze, as a teacher reprimands a student.

Curt returned to his place, calling his orders and engendering the return of chaos onto the field. Sans trilled eagerly, ducking his head in serpentine, swooping movements so that his four white fangs gleaned steel-like in the storm, reflecting off of a strong ray of light from the setting sun. Phi seemed to start for a moment, distracted, as the bird took a running leap into the air just as the earth began to shake, and she entered the storm once more and nodded as he pulsed his wings to ride the tantrum like swells of wind. It was clear from his large, pulsing flaps that it was taking much more effort to rise higher in the air this time, as any sort of flight was taxing to every creature who dared to take it, for it required an immense amount of oxygen to support such a large, battering heart that beat ten times faster than a human's during flight, for it had to supply energy for every powerful muscle and cool the rising body temperature that skyrocketed as chemical reactions worked overtime to release energy and heat. And yet his seemed to be working twice as hard as it should, his muscles rising to greater levels just to lift him from the earth, for the bird's stamina was lackluster and to twice rise into the air was a much greater feat than just the first, which had been a great feat to begin with because no one had ever done it before the species of which Sans belonged.

Still, Sans came armed with experience, and it became clear that he knew just how the wind moved, how to catch it, and dip, and rise in its constant flurry and powerful gusts in a way that not many creatures did in this day and age, for each sporadic dip and swell and dive and roll reeked with the wildness of a prehistoric world. At the suggestion of Phi he rode farther out into the battlefield, away from the dragon as he, too, having executed his attack, rose into the air and began to cut through the wind towards the bird. He watched as the master of the wind began another Aqua Tail attack, and cast his gaze towards Phi.

Phi was frantically signing at Velvet, paying little heed to the bird until he trilled loud, upon which she dropped her hands in defeat for a moment before raising them again and repeating the motions without thought of her own, for she looked towards the bird, closed her eyes for a fleet second, and called a command.

''Dip, Claw, blade, low - onto the rocks, onto the rocks, Velvet look at me. Look at me-'' her speech devolved into hand signals again, and the bird cocked his head for a moment, for her commands had fallen fully into the line of thought she took with the dog, where words had to be simple and easy to understand, to the point, as well, for hands moved much slower than words. Then the dragon had neared, and he took her words and guessed the ones inbetween.

Sans rode the swell of the wind to evade the dragon for just a moment longer before he sensed its downfall, to which the bird flapped his wings once to remain in place as Whips neared before riding it, gliding at a steep descent just as his opponent bared down upon him. And yet, the bird had never really re examined the master of the wind to account for his rise in speed, and his descent, bothered by the vague attitude of the girls commands, failed to remain untouched, the attack lashing down upon his right wing with just the tip of its incredible force.

The bird opened his beak and skewed his jaw in a sort of grimace, but he had been cleared from any follow up damage save for the single, whip like sting of the end of the wind master's tail, and the bird had followed the swell of wind almost back down to the still growling earth, for it seemed no matter what happened time refused to pass, and he beat his wings and rose on its upward draft almost directly below the beast, so in sync with the storm that it became unclear whether the dense center of whirling sand seemed to colonize around his rocky skin or whether he was simply stalking its core. And at once, with a new perspective, swerving upwards towards his opponent, Phi's words became clear. The claws at the edges of his wings began to glow- for, it should be known, he was much less a modern bird than a prehistoric bat, still attached to the bones in his arm that had yet to fully morph into wings- and they glowed the same inky blue of his dragon breath that seemed to hold wisps of emerald green and dark maroon within the dully sparkling core, and they almost seemed to grow and extend.

Sans tilted his body so as to ride the wind higher towards the beast, his jaw still skewed in a strange sort of concentration, his wings beating ever so slightly slower than before but just, almost fast enough so that he rose up near the side of the creature, just below the shoulder blade, aiming for the spot that no one could ever quite reach, for, the bird had realized, Phi, in her single swift glance, had tried to direct him to just the spot. The both of them were unnerved at the thought of fighting the beast head on, but they couldn't seem to escape close quarters, and Osh had taught them, if anything, it was always good to use a move you hadn't used yet before. So he beat his wings tipped with their jagged Dragon Claws, riding the swell of the wind.

The girl appeared to pay no heed to the bird, her concentration focused solely on trying to secure the gaze of Velvet, who had ended up much worse off. Phi, at first, was sure the earthquake attack would be little issue to such a sturdy creature, and was much more concerned with advising Sans. She found almost immediately that this was a mistake.

Dust shivered up from the battlefield in a misty cloak as it began to shake, the plates of the earth, by some mystical force and brutish power of the dragon type before them, growing as unsteady as a wrathful sea, cracks splitting, hairline fractures, to mark where the earth grew weak, to scream its flaws and terrorize its weak points. Large boulders cracked and crumbled, remnants of Sans' attacks, somehow sturdier than the earth itself, though a select few cracked and fell into obscurity. A small portion of earth collapsed completely, marking the run the salamander had dug, and Phi felt her legs grow weak as vibration remnants tickled their soles, and she shifted her weight as if to remind herself of their power as her hands flew. To the rocks, they screamed in a voice only eyes could hear. Get on the rocks, get on the rocks.

Velvet heard nothing, saw nothing, distracted by the concentration that began to boil within her as the earth threw her never fall philosophy for a deathly loop, vibrations grabbing ahold of her muscles and shaking them wobbly until, for a moment, the dog realized that perhaps this was the closest she'd ever get to hearing something. But then the instinctual actions of balance and strength became so complex that they grew to a forceful level, and she had to peer closely at every raucous shift in the earth and calculate how and where to throw herself, to hold her shoulders, to swing her hips, to rear, to leap, to lean, to splay. The need to watch every shift of the earth overwhelmed the beast's eyesight, and for the second time that battle she ignored Phi, not because she couldn't care to but because she simply couldn't. After all, eyes were meant to watch the world and help react to it. The job of the ears was to take warnings and commands. The disadvantage to being deaf was that the eyes already had a job, and a role. Oftentimes they couldn't take on another.

Throw her shoulders, skew her spine, recoil, leap, spread her front legs, lean on her back. The audience fell from muted hushes to tentative cheers as Velvet gave a full show of her stubborn prowess, rearing and coiling and lashing her legs as if she were fighting an invisible enemy in the storm instead of just the earth itself, jaw skewed as she flashed cat-like, feeling a shiver in her chest as the vibration shook her from side to side in such a manner that her vision itself convulsed and spun. Cheers grew raucous when she regained a paw that slipped beneath her in her cat like show of reflexes and balance, and if there was music to the battle it would have grown shrill in a great, chaotic crescendo as every instrument was battered upon by their bows in a tantrum of a symphony that seemed to resemble the thrashing of the wind itself.

And if there was music, it would have fallen mute, bows just shivering on their strings as the wolf like creature misjudged while her vision convulsed, throwing one leg out too far so that her hip was struck down beneath her weight and slipped down beneath her.

And Velvet fell.

As instant as lightning she rose again, only to find her hip unable to take the avalanche of vibrations and again the creature fell. Her floppy left ear fell tired unto the creature's goggles as the Earthquake subsided, and still she lay upon the broken earth. Phi let her hands fall, having been unable to reach her companion. Whispers rose from the audience, as tumultuous as a sea of instruments without an instructor, desperately trying to connect with one another, for she didn't struggle, didn't try to stand, not once.

Her chest rose and fell, and Phi did a curious thing.

Waving her arms once as a conductor silences an orchestra, she knelt on the ground and put them both behind her back, blinking her eyes long in a symbol of vulnerability. Velvet blinked, twitched a paw, and rose, reminded of the nature of the world in which she lived, where one could lie vulnerable with no ill affects. Were to fall was not to lose but simply a fall. She wobbled, then loped towards the girl, her smooth, flat backed, shadow like gait rising with a sharp bump as she favored her back left paw, pausing when she'd reached within ten feet of her trainer. They conversed with hands and body language as the audience grew weary of their inaction and turned to the skies, where Sans rose from his dip and his claws began to glow.

Velvet loped out into the middle of the field, head low, as if she had already lost. She paused a foot or so away from the creatures in the sky, turning slowly around in a tight circle, her head rising, stone like gaze roving over the audience as if to regain some sense of pride. Slowly, dark matter began to glow beneath her fangs in a manner similar to that one fearful moment right before Embertail dug his way into the earth, aiming for the base of the dragon's tail, for it was her only ranged attack, the only way to reach the skies. The matter grew to a favorable size, but she didn't release it, and sat motionless upon the field. She blinked.

Abruptly, the dog turned her head and released it upon a sizable boulder ten or so feet away, the impact causing it to shudder and crumble, long cracks running up the edges and splitting the weakened rock into six large chunks, and Velvet loped towards the edge of the battlefield, having not released a single Shadow Ball upon the foe. When she reached the edge, she crossed it, emerging from the sandstorm so that the audience could finally see clearly the stiff blue hairs upon her coat for the first time since the battle began, and the deaf dog, with one final stony glance at the audience, lay down a fair amount away from both trainers, using one paw to pull the goggles off of her face. She began to chew on one edge, where the buckle met the plastic, and simply watched, back to the audience. It was clear now that both buckles showed incredible wear and tear.

Phi sighed, nodding to the announcer as he questioned the Pokemon's leave from battle before he officially called the velvet pawed beast out of the match.

It was hard to give a pep talk to someone who wouldn't listen.

But the beast just huffed in a satisfied manner, chewing on the edge of her goggles. For more than a minute she'd laid on the ground- and twice had she fallen, a grand bruise to her pride. Every way the velvet pawed dog could ponder it, she should have lost, no matter the sympathy of the civilized world.

Every creature worth their spirit should follow the philosophy of their pride.

She'd fallen.

And that was that.
 
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If something could be said for Velvet, it was that she was not a normal Herdier. This was something that had popped in Curts, Embertails, and Whips mind constantly throughout the battle, but once again it was slammed into their mind, harder and more real then ever. They group always believed Embertail had made it far, considering his disabilities, but Velvet, this dog, she was something else. It took Curt far too long, he realized, that Velvet was deaf, the way she looked to Phi's wide yet detailed hand motions for guidance, the way her ears never seemed to twitch or react to the numerous noises on the battlefield, truly, Curt thought himself a fool for not coming to that conclusion much earlier. However, this realization did not make them look down or pity the Terrier-Pokemon, if anything, it made them more wary, even fearful of her! The fact that Velvet not only proved capable, but a powerful threat to them once again showed both Phi's capabilities as a trainer, and her own Pokemons power and will to validate themselves. To Embertails credit, the realization of the Herider's lack of hearing did not make him feel worse, no, if this Herdier has such mastery over herself that she was able to fight at such a level, even without her hearing, then truly she was a powerful opponent. To Whips, it mattered little to him that the Terrier was deaf, she had proved herself a worth competitor and Whips would treat her as such, to do anything else would be an insult to them both. No, she had fought well and hard, so much so that it legitimately surprised them to see her go down despite her clever attempts to avoid the Earthquake by running to the softer earth Embertail had dug under.

Whips' 'quake shock the entire arena as it tore the field asunder, Curt and Embertail had to brace themselves a bit not to get thrown off their feet, but that was a pittance to pay for the results Whips' Earthquake attack yielded. Velvet, mighty as she was, was finally brought down, the mighty dog of Unova, exhausted as she was, removed her goggles from her face as a sign of her defeats. She looks like her pride had been injured though, despite having fought incredibly well, but being knocked out of a match was always rough for one to take, no matter how well you fought. Curt turned to Embertail, flashing the Charmander a quick reassuring smile.

"See Embertail, you fought well enough to soften Velvet enough for Whips to take the finishing...I, uh, I mean...", Curt began to say before the words died in his mouth. One look reminded him that his buddy did not want to be reassured right now, no matter what the Charmanders smile tried to tell him.

"Don't worry bro, we're going to win this yet!", Curt said, trying to salvage the situation with...some level of success, trying to take Embertails mind off his defeat and on the possibility that the battle at hand could still be won thanks to his efforts, but without directly saying it, and that it was the battle his friend was now fighting. Embertail, in a similar vein to Jasper, was a bit of a "cheerleader", and always was able to find the motivation to root for his friends when they were on the field of battle, and judging by the Charmanders peppy cries to his friend, now was no exception. That settled (well, settled enough anyways), Curt turned to focus on the battle, Sans was still on the field, and that mighty, pre-historic bird had made it apparent that he was just a big a threat as Velvet was, maybe even more so. Sans made his way into the air with extreme haste and, despite Whips Dragon Dances-boosted Aqua Tail, managed almost completely avoid the dragons attack, minus a minor clipped wing. But of course, the Archeops wasn't about to let Whips think that he could give as good as he could get and, in spite of his wounded wing, managed to re-position himself and come at Whips with a terrifying Dragon Claw. Clearly Sans was well practiced in the art of flying through Sandstorms, far more then Whips was, as not only did that Dragonic slash hit Whips, it hit him with a vengeance, striking the Dragonite in a vulnerable spot, almost causing Whips to cry out and even managing to force the Dragon Pokemon back on the ground. Just like that, their plans to exhaust Sans had managed to fly out the window, their plans for an air battle shattered in one swoop. Still, Whips was not a Pokemon to give up, with a grunt, he forced himself back to his feet, tired as he was, he wasn't going to throw in the towel yet. Just then, a small change in their luck began to show itself as the mighty roar of the sandstorms began to quiet, the whipping sands began to dissipate. Finally, the sandstorm was over, though it might have ended far too late to make a significant difference in the battle, but if there was any window, they were going to take it!

"W-Whips, can you muster up another Aqua Tail", Curt cried to his dragon partner. Though Whips was not a water type by any means, so far he displayed excellent control over the said element, however, it seemed that they final;y managed to tap out any possible source of water supply. Whips attempts at forming such an attack proved futile, only being able to make the slimmest veil of water around the Dragonites tail, sand still surrounded the filed, and the air was as humid as though there had just been a massive fire on the very arena itself. The only possible way for Whips to form an adequate Aqua Tail now would be to tap into the plumbing and water reserves of the town or the arena, which would cause a good amount of property damage to say the least, which would also end up with them getting disqualified. Needless to say, that was out of the question, a clear glance at Curt made that clear. No, there was only one clear path to them now. The skys were clear, the crowed was howling, and, despite his exhaustion, Whips was still eager to battle. Both trainer and Pokemon mutually understood each other without a need for words, they were going to risk it all with this next attack.

"Alright then, Whips, lets show them what we're made of, DRAGON RUSH!", Curt yelled, Whips letting out a primal roar to match, even out strip, his trainers spirited command. A deep, emerald green aura surround Whips, the immortal energies of the dragons giving him strength, as he charged headlong at Sans at break neck speed, the clear terrain allowing him to move unhindered. True, it was a risky, all or nothing move, but the Archeops was as tired as Whips was, and if there was any chance to turn the fight around, it was here and now. But in-spite the peril and intensity of the battle, Whips was almost shivering, he always got excited when he fought powerful opponents, and Velvet and Sans had proved to be very worthy opponents indeed. Fights like these, they were more then just win or lose, it was almost like one was pitting their very existence, their very soul, against another to see which ones resolved held out the longest. Though this could be said of all of Curts party members, Curt included, but for Whips most of all: This was living! The battle was reaching its conclusion, and both trainers and Pokemon were going to have to throw there all into their next attacks if they hoped to have a chance at claiming victory.
 
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Hush, hush whispered the dying wind, threaded short as an unraveling braid, a breath untangled, a flame snuffed with the haah of a long, calm breath. Dust settled, debri fell flat as a pool of water, wings flapped, long and slow and silent, in the coolness of becalmed storms, and senses were snuffed of their acute observations in the face of a dull, blunt world, until there died all sound and scent and vision and touch, and the world was sans.

The ancient bird drew in a long breath, fearing to close his eyes, beating his wings once so as to rise a murky fog of dust from the earth on which he stood, relishing its entanglement in his feathers and scales, and he exhaled, weaving his serpentine tail through the fallen air.

Cocking his head, there began to kindle a spirit from the storm's ashes, and he beat his wings more violently, letting loose a long, wild trill that screamed of his right to an existence, and as the air foamed around his oppponents violently spirited attack, he trilled with an earnest and outstretched his long neck, beating his wings faster and faster. Trainer and Pokémon shared a glance, flame licking his coal eyes.

"Rock tomb..." a pause. Yes? This is what we want? Are you absolutely sure?

"...-and Thrash."

Yes. Yes. Oh, yes. He'd bring it back. The wildness, the chaos, the vitality. His world- his ancient world. It was in the sand, in the storm, in the chaos, in the madness of a tantrum world. And the ancient bird dipped his head, coal black eyes twinkling like the stars, far off and trapped in the past.

Rocks formed out of the air, smaller, bigger, hadn't they always been there? Slowly, almost too slow, they fell around the bird, stomping on the shaken earth and encasing the bird in a cavernous mouth of rocks, pressing onto the swollen ground with a viscous sucking noise as dust fled from its edges, and then, before it could settle again to the earth, it was raised with a ferocious vitality, thickened to a choking, fog like substance as chunks of rock were thrown from the makeshift barrier of the bird. A chilling blue, as deep as an iris, choked the dusty air, cutting through the brown mist like a scythe, wind rushing in its wake with a whistle as deep as an ocean trench. White light leaked into the blue, glaring and bold, and for a moment there stood a standstill between the majesty of a draconian blue and the blank white, before a resounding crash shattered the rock barrier and revealed the bird, wings spread, encased in a pure white sheen.

Sans leaned forwards, and hissed as the two crashed together,

''Wind massster,''

before everything disappeared into dust.

Phi leaned close in, her dream like demeanor shifting in and out of existence, making clear both the excitement and worry hidden within her face. Her bony hand moved quickly, the stained fingers tucking away a stray whisp of hair, strangely unnerved by the deadened calm brought on by the death of the storm despite the power of their attacks. She knew instinctively how it played beneath the cloud, and those in the crowd rose a chilling chorus, for the distinctive lights drew in the dust, shapes, and these shapes moved, mystic like, trying to overthrow one another. There were no distinctive features, no face to express emotion, just dust and light- blue, and white, wings flapping, serpentine tail whipping in a sheen of white. And Phi knew that the bird fought half as slow and his blows landed with half of their power, for the world grew null and soft and orderly, but she could feel his coal heart beating in her own chest and was filled with a drive for life.

And then, a wave of dust like fog revealed the two, washing over the girl and cloaking her sight, completely shrouding her from view. Like a wave of emotion, it choked her skin and entangled into her hair, penetrating beneath her coat in a great, tremendous, heaving wave. Wind stirred the thick dust fog into half hearted tornadoes, as if begging for a return to chaos, and Phi couldn't help but wonder whether Sans could control it, too, so thickly did it plaster on her skin that she was overtaken by a tremendous longing, as if the wind itself had clutched her heart before at last dispersing, relinquishing the girl from its hold.

The bank of dust rolled away from the girl to settle to the floor, revealing a mist to her eyes as she whispered beneath her breath words from a page obscured by the fog of memory.

"Drip, drip
Floor to ceiling
A viscous splash
My mind is reeling

Rasping breaths,
Poisoned and sore,
Darkness a light
And silence a roar

Ever so slowly the world spins
And whips and screeches with a sudden velocity
A dark, a dank, ferocious philosophy
Where memory is an open sore

If time had stopped when we were young-
Is it that for which I long?
Am I sick for a place
That has died in time's long race?

Heavy feathers collapse my mind
Dripping viscous, floor to ceiling
Darkness light, my mind is reeling
Eyes like stars encased with coal

Drip drip, tick tick, melting icicle world"
 
Despite the sandstorm having quieted itself, the winds still seemed to be roaring across the field, fueling the fighting spirits of both Pokemon and trainer. Despite losing his Sandstorm, Sans showed on signs of quitting, or even slowing down, Curt vaugely remembered hearing that, long ago, the pre-historic birds species ruled the ancient lands, and not simply because of its incredible power, though that was certainty a contributing factor. No, one of the greatest attributes to the creatures dominance was its remarkable inelegance for its time and its ability to work with it fellow Archen and Archeops (even those from other clans!) and even other species of Pokemon on occasions to take down a common threat. It's power alone didn't place it on top of the food chain, it was its intellect that allowed it to rise to superiority of its time, to the point scientists to this day weren't sure why exactly it went borderline extinct. But now wasn't a time to admire the opponents Pokemon, the end game of this match was rapidly approaching, and it would demand Curt's full attention to accompany Whips.

Phi, once again, proved herself an excellent tactician as well as trainer, first, she ordered Sans to barrage Whips with a Rock Tomb attack. The attack, while extremely effective on Whips, was not exceptionally powerful, and the mighty Dragonite was able to break through it without too much trouble. No, the real purpose behind the move was its secondary effect; it slowed its victims speed, and even though Whips was able to smash through the conjured stones with relative easy (that in itself no small feat), the stony attack succeed in its purpose to slow Whips down, allowing Sans and Phi to attempt a second attack, and boy did they have a ringer planed. THRASH, a desperation move, but a mighty one, the attack grew in power the lower the health of the user was, and Sans did look like he's been put through quiet a bit, which now made him all the more deadly. Curt gritted his teeth, now regretting making such a desperation move himself, Embertail looked to the battle field, wide eyed and hoping the best for his friend, but Whips, Whips just smiled at the challenged that presented itself to him. For the Dragonite, such a move just proved the worthiness of his opponents, both Sans and Phi. Yes, Whips considered Phi his opponent just as much Curt considered Sans his opponent as well. A battle wasn't just Pokemon against Pokemon and trainer against trainer, it was a match of fortitude, for a trainer to not be dissuaded by the power of the opposing monsters, and for the Pokemon to not lose faith in their own trainer when they hit a rough patch and support them even when a seemingly more competent one makes themselves known. That being said, there was no trainer Whips would rather have then Curt, and, likewise, Curt wouldn't trade a single member of his team for any Pokemon in the world. No doubt Phi, Velvet, and Sans felt the same way, a bond that would never break, even as the sands of time passed, it would hold true, and it was that bond, the one between Pokemon and human, that made itself apparent when the two Pokemon clashed.

The arena was torn asunder even further by the sheer power of the two Pokemon clashing against each other, bits of the floor was chipped off and sent flying, the rush of air caused by thier clash forced Curt, Embertail, and even the referee to instinctively raise their arms to shield themselves from the burst of wind. Two titans, one from the old world, one of the hear and now, making one final strike at each other under the setting sun of Kalos and her purple skies. The ground trembled, dust was thrown up by the wind, and the two fliers were thrown back by the sheer intensity of their own attacks, both Whips and Sans had landed heavy hits on each other, and it showed. Curt saw Whips hit the ground hard and slide almost right up to his and Embertails feet, while Sans, no doubt, went through a similar experience, and, for a moment, both Pokemon were still, un-moving, the many wounds they sustained this battle having taken their toll. And for this moment, the world was silent, trainers, other Pokemon, even the crowed had grown still to see the out come of the match. After a few moments passed, the referee readied himself to call the match a draw, but then, both Pokemon stirred and began to pick themselves up! Whips wasn't sure about Sans, but after such an incredible fight, a draw would be just as unsatisfying as a lose, maybe even more so! Sans, though it definitely seemed strenuous on the old bird, was able to rise to his feet! The Archeops was clearly exhausted, his was breathing heavy, slightly slumped over, and might have even been swaying a bit, as though it was taking everything he had just to keep himself from collapsing. Yet, he stood, and that was a testament to the mighty birds strength and a reminder to everyone as why that, despite not being the biggest of creatures from their time period, Archeops were on the top of the food chain. Whips, however, was a bit of a different case.

The Dragonite was determined to get up, he had too, especially if Sans was able to rise! Yet try as he might, he fell to the ground again, and again, and again, the wound sustained from Sans previous Dragon Claw spiking up every time he tried to rise, forcing him down. Whips was a proud Pokemon, as most Dragons were, and his pride fueled his refusal to throw in the towel, no matter how many times he fell to the ground. He was more then just a Dragonite, one of the mightiest Pokemon in this world, he was Curts ace in the hole, his strongest Pokemon, one that he, and in fact the rest of his friends, counted themselves lucky to consider an ally! To stop now would be to let them all down and slander the image that they made of him!

Curt and Embertail stood at the arena's edge, watching as Whips, that persistent Dragonite, try again and again to pick himself up and resume the fight, only to fall back to the arena floor again with a slam! The referee's eye's were darting back and forth between Whips and Curt, uncertain of whether or not to call Whips out, it seemed clear he wanted to continue, but his condition teetered on the line of "second wind" and "unable to battle". Curt let out a small, sad sigh, the result of the match was clear, Whips would keep fighting to the brink of death if they allowed him, he had almost done so before. Straightening himself the best he could, Curt left the trainer box of the arena, Embertail following in toe, and made his way up to his dragon friends side.

"Whips...come on man, that's enough, you're going to seriously hurt yourself if you keep fighting...", Curt began, placing a hand on the Dragonite, a soft, understanding smile on his face,"listen, it's just a tournament, there's nothing life threatening at stake here, ad there's certainly no reason to kill yourself over it, besides, you fought great, Sans is an extremely strong Pokemon and Phi's a great trainer, the fact that you got Sans so worn out is amazing on its own, I know we'll battle them again someday, till then, we'll just keep working so we can beat them when that day comes!" Whip and Curt locked eye's for a moment, before the Dragonite bowed his head to the ground, Curt was right, he had lost, and to keep persisting in this duel would just shame him, plus if he got seriously injured then he'd end up being a burden on his friends just because he couldn't simmer his stupid pride. Sans and Phi were worthy opponents, ones that he was glad he got a chance to fight, and ones that there was no shame in losing to. Whips let out a sigh and accepted defeat....and followed that by smashing his fist into ground, shattering the ground beneath him, just because he accepted that he lost didn't mean he had to be happy about it, besides, it was healthy to let out a bit of frustration. Finally, he let Curt and Embertail help him up, Curt looked towards the referee and gave him a quick, but visible nod, making it clear that the match was set.

"Whips is unable to battle, Sans is the winner and the victory goes to Phi's team!", the Referee declared causing the crowed to elicit an uproar, some of it in joy, some of it in anger, and some of it in sheer excitement.

"AND THAT'S IT! PHI'S TEAM ADVANCES TO THE FINALS! WHAT AN INCREDIBLE FINALE TO AN AMAZING BATTLE, I KNOW MANY PEOPLE WERE BETTING ON CURT THE MOMENT WHIPS ENTERED THE ARENA, BUT SANS PROVED THAT AN OLD DOG REALLY CAN LEARN NEW TRICKS, NOT ONLY WAS ITS SANDSTORM ABLE TO TURN VELVET INTO A BOARDER-LINE UNSTOPPABLE SHADOW OF FANGS AND FURY, BUT BRINGING DOWN A LEGENDARY DRAGONITE TOO, AMAZING! TRULY A FANTASTIC PERFORMANCE FROM BOTH SIDES, LET'S GET ANOTHER ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THE AMAZING DISPLAY GIVEN TO US BY OUR SEMI-FINALIST", the announcer roared, eliciting another cheer from the spectators, "AND NOW FOR THE SECOND ROUND OF THE SEMI-FINALS, WE HAVE DEO OF RUSTBORO AGAINST......

The rest of the announcement was lost on Curt as he made sure Whips was able to stand on his own, once it was clear that he could, the trio made their way toward their opponents. This wasn't the first loss they had before, far from it, and they doubted it would be the last, what mattered now was how they handled defeat and that the moved forward. One of the best ways they found to do that over the years was to make sure they left on good terms with their opponents, on the battlefield field they were enemies, but they would leave it as friends, that, they believed, was the best way to conclude a battle.

"Well, I gotta say, you three sure know how to put up one hell of a fight, the way you moved through that Sandstorm was amazing Velvet, I'd even call it a work of art, and I don't think I even need to say anything about you Sans, in fact, I think this is the first time Whips has ever lost a fight since he evolved, eh Whips?", Curt said, looking to the Dragonite, who merely gave a quick nod, never taking his eye's off Sans. Still, Whips' gaze wasn't hard or inviting of challenge, in fact, it seemed almost soft or energetic. His eyes gave off the warmth and passion only a warrior could have after having fought an intense battle against a worthy foe. Embertail growled out a quick "yeah" sounding growl, doing his best to try and not to look two upset at being the first one to go down in the battle. But still, the Charmander had a smile on his face, even if he was a little upset, he didn't want to rain on their parade, besides, Curt had a point, Velvet was a tough Pokemon and the way she used that Sandstorm, not only as cover, but to amplify her speed, was something amazing and completely new to him, he was sure he did as well any other Pokemon could considering what he was up against....at least, that what Embertail told himself.

"We wish you the best of luck in the finals, if you win, then our loss won't be so bad, and hey, maybe we can battle again someday!", Curt said with a smile as he extended a hand towards Phi to shake before they would make their way back to their seats.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The trio walked down the halls of the stadium, heads a little low, feeling just a tad crestfallen over their loss, not that they should be, all things considered, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Phi, Velvet, and Sans were extremely tough opponent, and such a challenge should be expected in a tournament as renowned at this one, really, getting to the Semi-Finals was a huge achievement in its own! But for those who constantly strive to push themselves forward and be the best they can be, losing had to carry a sense of bitterness with it. However, there was also the resonating thrill that came with fighting such powerful opponents, ones who forced them to come face to face with their limitations and then try to push past them, knowing full well that even going beyond their best might not be enough. No, if one wanted to achieve victory and push forward to new heights, you had to come to terms with the fact that loss was inevitable that was just life. What mattered was how one handled that, and Curt and Whips knew that, if given the choice of fighting Phi, Velvet, and Sans and losing or never fighting them at all, they would, with out a second thought, choose the former. But Embertail, of all people, was conflicted on this matter, normally the Charmander just fought for fun, but recent revelations had torn deep into the Pokemons self-esteem, and this loss was leaving him more upset then Whips! The Lizard Pokemon's two companions tried a few friendly words to cheer him up, but Embertail wasn't one to want people worrying about him, he just gave them a forced smile and told them that he was fine. But Curt and Whips knew better and the their friends somber state plagued their minds and stole their focus, so much so that Curt didn't even catch himself walking right into someone.

"OMMPH, GRAUGH!", Curt cried as he tried to catch himself from tumbling over which, by some miracle, he did. After getting his head back in order, it took him all of two seconds to realize what he did and for his face to redden in embarrassment, "Aw, jeez, I'm really sorry man, my mind must be somewhere...hey, wait, aren't you...?" Curt trailed, off, he knew this guy, if the red hair and wrinkly clothing wasn't enough of a reminder, the Braxien tailing behind him was. Yeah, they met this guy last night in front of the cotton candy stand, and from what Curt saw of him, he was doing pretty well in the tournament too.

"Oh, yeah, from the cotton candy stand last night! How've you been? Well, I guess pretty good considering you've been doing really well in the tournament...uh...", Curt spurted out, his face growing redder with each passing second. As if he hadn't already humiliated himself enough already, now the boys name had slipped him mind! Curt knew he was terrible with names, but this was bad, even for him, after all, the trainers name had to have been mentioned at least a dozen times over the course of the tournament. One could chalk that up to his mind being in a bit of daze do to having just gotten done with an intense battle, but that didn't make Curt look any less like a moron at the current moment.

"Uh, yeah, you've been doing great.....uh...."

"Rerald"

"GERALD! Yes, I knew that, yeah(Thank-you Embertail), and it's also nice to see you again as well June!", Curt said, trying to rebound the conversation, (later it would occur to him how awkward it probably looked that he remembered June's name and not Geralds), "you two have met Embertail of course, but you haven't meet Whips yet, he's that Dragonite of course, you probably saw him fighting in the last round". Curt finished by pointing his thumb towards Whips, as though the massive Dragonite needed to be pointed out by him, Embertail gave the other group a half-hearted wave. Curt felt his face cooling down, this was a bit better, he was beginning to salvage the situation, maybe he wouldn't walk away from this looking like a complete ass...and then Curt noticed Puff.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't notice you there", Curt said, turning to look at the Lopunny, "She with you Gerald? I've never seen a Lopunny up close before, gotta say, she is adorable, what's her name?" It took less then a second after he finished his sentence to hear an audible chuckle from Embertail, at first Curt thought that was good, it meant his friend was coming out of his stupor, then he thought about what could have happened to evoke a laugh (which, granted, normally was not hard to do) from the Charmander. Curt's head bolted back, bouncing between the chuckling Charmander, and Whips who was letting out a groan and had one of his hands covering his face in what Curt presumed to be embarrassment. Curt felt his face growing a bit cold this time, he just knew he did something stupid, his eye's darted back and forth between his two friends, he knew he said something stupid and right now he was really hoping they'd key them in to what he did wrong.

"Curt... hehe, rhat's, hehehe, rat's a rhuye...", Embertail said between laughs while pointing a claw at Puff. Curt's face grew colder still, he could practically felt the color drain from it upon hearing Embertails words. How was he supposed to know that this Lopunny was a boy!? He'd only seen one or two pictures of them before and had only seen it pre-evolved form, Buneary, once when he was a kid...at a petting zoo! It wasn't like he had a lot to go on for reference! Curt just stood there, the only noise coming from his end was from Embertail and his attempts at muffling his laughter, it was awkward and probably would have only gotten more awkward still if it wasn't for the saving grace of the announcer.

"SECOND CALL FOR THE SECOND ROUND OF THE SEMI-FINALS, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE ARENA: DIO OF RUSTBORO AND GERALD OF...."

"Well I shouldn't keep you guys waiting, don't want to be late after all, good luck with your battle, come on guys!", Curt said as fast as he could before he jolted back to his seats and the rest of his team, Embertail and Whips following closely behind him. Even after Gerald, June, and Puff were out of sight, Curts mind continued to be plagued by the recent interaction. Now that he thought about it, the Lopunny did seem to have somewhat harder features compared to the picture he saw, which he now realized was probably a female. Sure, one could make the argument that, in general, Lopunnys typically look a bit effeminate regardless of gender, but there was no denying there was at least some visible difference between the two genders. Curt let out a sigh, sure, this was far from the first time he embarrassed himself, but the fact that it was piled on top of freshly losing a battle would make it linger with him a bit more. Curt turned his head back to look at his friends, Whips was just dully looking at him with an expression that read "you know, we've know each other long enough that I really should have expect this to happen". Embertail, however, had completely cast aside the glum mood inflicted on him by his defeat at the paws of Velvet and now had his typical big goof grin. In fact, his head was so out of the clouds he was able to meet Curts eye's and, with a glint in his eyes, Embertail opened his mouth and...

"Oh shut up", Curt said, preemptively cutting Embertail off before he could get a word in, "it maybe easy for you guys to tell the difference, but it's not like I've seen many other Lopunny's to compare him too!". Embertail just closed his mouth and kept on smiling, though Curt knew Embertail and Whips would at least keep this to themselves for a while (good lord, Raviel would have a field day with this) he didn't really want this rubbed in. Still, if this got Embertail out of his bad mood for the time being, then Curt supposed that was worth a little humiliation. It did get Curt to thinking about how Embertail and Whips were able to easily tell Puffs gender, though a Pokemons gender was easier to tell apart then an animals (most of the time at least) it still stuck Curt as a bit odd at how clear it was for Whips and Embertail. It would be one thing if it was a Pokemon that was in their egg group, but...Curt just shook his head, it wasn't something he wanted to think about right now, maybe later when the embarrassment had faded away.

"So guy's...do you remember if they mentioned any prizes for the Semi-Finalests? It's a pretty prestigious tournament, I'd imagine there would at least be something for the top four...", Curt said, trying to get everyone mind on a different track. Thankfully the talk of prizes and recognition kept them occupied and talking all the way back to their seats.
 
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