Private/Closed Battle Kingdom 3 Ultimate Fight to the Finish (and Knuckles)

[Keleri]

Discussion Thread and Characters

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This was a weird place to have a tournament.

Pokemon training was dangerous. It was fascinating how the warnings evolved as she'd gotten older, Corene thought. When she was a kid it was all "stay in groups" and "stay on the path" and "don't go alone with someone with stronger pokemon". Then it was "you can back out of a trade for any reason" and "you don't have to follow unfair battle bets".

The one that applied here was "if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is".

It had sounded reasonable at first; rich collectors sometimes hosted tournaments with the intent of inserting themselves and/or their rare pokemon into the proceedings at some point, and there were prize money rewards at every level. Corene had already racked up a not-unimpressive purse, and if she walked away from the tournament, she forfeited it.

But the chartered ship had brought her to an island where her pokedex didn't always get signal, and the other battlers...

Corene had been a tournament trainer for several years now, and she knew quite a lot of the usual contenders and their playstyles. She knew the pokemon, some of them heavyweights that jumped from team to team as their fancy took them. But these trainers, well.

How the hell had she never heard of them?

Oh, some of them she'd known, but as they'd been eliminated and bid farewell, the more her misgivings had grown. Almost all of them had mega pokemon or battle bonds, and those weren't abilities that stayed under wraps for long. You had to move into the professional sphere to find equal, satisfying matches for your pokemon at this level. A few of them, now eliminated, had even had legendaries.

Who were these trainers?

Still. The host's majordomo had, not to put too fine a point on it, buttered her up pretty expertly when she'd expressed her concerns. So, she was still in--but the thought of throwing the next match had crossed her mind more than a few times, not that her pokemon would ever let her do that. Sunny, Bloom, Star, and Kirk had too much professional pride, and Fab and Uni would dive a little too dramatically to be believable.

There was nothing to it but to prepare for her next match. And if she thought she saw ghosts out the corner of her eye, or the sky seemed to flicker now and then like a bad connection, well...

 

[Mr.RMA]

This wasn’t a mission. Officially, Officer Wayland Sharpe was on paid leave. Vacation time. No involvement of the authorities in any sort of capacity… officially. As far as anyone should’ve been led to believe, he was just another trainer fortunate enough to be making a deep run in this peculiar little private tournament.

It wasn’t as if that were far from the truth of the matter, but Wayland did have an agenda beyond simply winning… otherwise he never would’ve accepted the invitation here in the first place, never would’ve cashed in all the free time he had accrued. Someone in charge of this whole shindig knew too much about his police operations, he needed to know how and why.

Maybe it was all for nothing, just the dealings of some poky rich guy who heard a rumor from some Kanto-based associate and decided to capitalize on it whilst filling out some tournament quota, but… then maybe not. Wayland preferred to use his gut-feeling for suspicious activity like this, it so rarely steered him wrong, and he was happy to gamble away his time off to see this hunch through to the end. Of course, this being a tournament, it was taking a lot more than a simple hunch for him to actually get the chance to stick around. Sure, he probably could continue his investigating as a spectator, but, then someone might get wise to the whole thing. Couldn’t have that.

He needed to keep winning, keep up the identity as a no-name Unovan making his circuit debut. At least one person knew the truth, but the officer hoped the mysterious head of the tourney would buy into the idea that Wayland was purely here to compete. After all, he definitely wasn’t pretending when he fought his way through the preliminaries and the elimination rounds up to this point.

What a variety of opponents by the way… International superstars, mysterious tacticians, prodigies, veterans, and yet these last seven that comprised of the eight remaining participants managed to outshine the lot of them. He’d been watching any footage from their battles that he could get his hands on, and it had sincerely blown him away. Was this how it always was in the upper echelons of the Leagues? He’d never set foot in a tournament, and this was a helluva way to catch up on what he had apparently missed out on.

Still, thrills aside, he couldn’t forget why he’d accepted this invite. There was something at play here, someone was very likely conducting a very different sort of game, but… damn, whatever it was, they were keeping their hand close to their vest, and their poker face was frustratingly effective. Wayland had kept his uniform in his assigned living quarters for the duration of the tournament, stowed and locked away, ready to be broken out as soon as he picked up some sort of motive, with the paper-trail to match.

Until he found such reclusive evidence, he and his dedicated companions just had to keep fighting. Elimination was a greater reality now than ever. BOLO had been struggling a fair bit for the first time in ages in that last battle; GAT being knocked out had seemed like an impossibility, but it had happened, and had Fuzz followed suit, they would’ve had no choice but to break out the Key Stone, much as Wayland was ever-reluctant to do so. Mega evolution really was a nasty business when you took away all the glamorized aspects of it… Soon enough though, he knew… There’d have to be no holding back whatsoever.

Still, all that aside, as he awaited the news of who his opponent would be in this quarter-final match, Wayland reminded himself… This wasn’t a mission, not officially.

 

[Dwayna DragonFire]

Something clearly wasn't right.

As soon as Ame arrived on the strange island she had been invited to, she had shivers tingle all the way down her spine. For the first time since she had discovered her powers, without an emotional bond to the place or the people in it, she felt a feeling that wasn't entirely her own. It was a wholly unsettling feeling, like if she had hung around in Lavender Tower for an entire day or when she realized exactly what Morgan had been up to with the Key Stone.

Nonetheless, she was there for the same reason as the rest of the other hundred or so humans that came. There was to be a grand tournament, hosted by a strange person that she had never heard the name of before. Supposedly, her battling prowess had reached even their ears, and whomever was in charge seemed to be looking for people that were both good at what they did, but also had something unique on their teams. Her companion Charles wasn't the only one with a shiny coat, nor was he the only one with the power of Mega Evolution - in fact, almost everyone present seemed to have at least one such bond. It was unheard of where she had come from, and part of her wondered at just how rich that individual actually was.

As the tournament went on and many of her opponents were eliminated, the strange feeling seemed to enhance; less like an odd tingling and more like pins and needles. She got the sense that whatever was going on there was about to change, and she wasn't sure what the result of that was going to be. Ame hadn't been on edge like that for a long time, and she started to doubt her original feelings that she should have come to the island. Such was bound to happen when one responded on a whim; the woman cursing herself for leaping before she looked yet again. But she was determined to figure out exactly what was going on, so she stuck with it despite her mounting paranoia.

To little surprise of many that knew of her, she was going to be in the quarter finals of the event. She had been through many a hard fight over the course of the tournament, and she had only needed to call upon Charles' Mega form a couple times. The rush of power through her person each time left her feeling vulnerable afterwards; a wave of nausea coursing through her body. She still wasn't used to the feeling at all, and was glad for when those moments ended after the battles.

It was between matches, which meant time for such rest. Ame adjusted the monocle over her good eye as she quietly contemplated if then was the right time to be trying to talk with the other competitors or not. The constant feeling of things not being quite right seeped into her bones, and almost nightly since her arrival she had experienced nightmares. Despite her fears, she needed to talk to anyone that would listen, which meant potentially having to make friends with the remaining seven other people.

Hopefully, at least one of those people was open-minded to the possibility of psychic humans.

 

[StellarWind Elsydeon]

There was something familiar about this situation.

To be fair, of course there was. It was a privately-run tournament playing host to a wide assortment of skilled and powerful Pokémon trainers and their Pokémon - hardly something too out of the ordinary and certainly not his first rodeo, as it were. Granted, last time he has gotten himself involved in one of these things, some rather unusual events transpired - and when the dust settled, in a manner of speaking, he decided to quietly duck out of the competitive scene for a good while. If he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he wasn't entirely certain what made him decide to actually respond to the invitation to this one, either.

It was probably the fact that he was not at all an easy person to find - but the messengers somehow managed to track him down anyway in order to deliver the invitation. He had to admire their diligence, really - not to mention that he had to wonder just who in the world would go through so much effort just to invite him, of all people, to a battle tournament. The name on the invitation was utterly unfamiliar to him (and he was certainly the type to stay informed), but clearly, the gentleman in the elegant suit who played host to this entire ordeal spared no expense in setting up this tournament - a private island with a lavish mansion serving as a hotel for the participants' stay, a league conference-grade arena, training facilities for the participants to practice in between battles - and most importantly, an impressive variety of high-tier battlers with equally impressive teams and capabilities. He was even more impressed that these individuals actually showed up, in spite of the host being - if he were to be perfectly honest - a huge unknown. Of course, if there's anything he'd learned about this sort of tournament, it was that nine times out of ten it was just some rich battle aficionado setting up a show for his own amusement - but the possibility of the one time that wasn't hovered ominously in his mind... and every fragment of his training suggested there was something untoward on the horizon - and usually, when he got this sort of feeling... it was right to the letter.

But he had to admit, in spite of himself, that it felt good to be back in the saddle again. After all, how often does one get to go toe-to-toe in battle with a Mega Tyranitar in a raging sandstorm, or to cross swords with the legendary Latios, and the purging light it could call upon with its mind alone? The elimination rounds so far were one adventure after another - and now that only eight trainers - somehow including himself - remained, he could not help but wonder what those others who made it this far were capable of when pushed to their limits.

 

[Psycho Monkey]

What was better than the chance to battle the strongest Trainers in the world in a no-holds-barred tournament hosted by some rich dude? Only the fact that said rich dude spared no expense making everything on the island was free for participating Trainers, especially the food in the island’s gourmet restaurant! For the Trainer of a Snorlax, free delicious food was what dreams were made of. Factor in his own apatite and that of his other Pokémon and you have a recipe for a very busy kitchen staff.

When no one was looking, Brian would sneakily empty his and his team’s plates into sealable containers that were then stashed away in Item Balls and hidden in his trench coat. The waitstaff didn’t even question the rapid disappearance of the food due to assuming the aforementioned Snorlax was the culprit.

“I can’t believe we’re getting away with this.” giggled a golden Infernape after swallowing down his third crab cake.

“Indeed. It’s all thanks to the sponsor that we get to enjoy such tasty food.” Brian replied tactfully as the waiter had returned to the table with another steak.

“Can I get you anything else Sir?” he queried politely. The Trainer flashed was wide grin looking around the table at his team.

“How about the dessert menu?” requested Brian eliciting cheers from his Pokémon. Once the waiter was out of sight, Brian scanned the room to make sure no one was watching before cutting the steak in half, giving one half to Snorlax and stowing away the other half for later. They would be eating like kings once this tournament was over!

Yes, only eight Trainers remained of what was originally 256. Most of the participants were capable of Mega Evolution and some even possessed Legendary Pokémon. Brian was not one of those Trainers. While he had spent three years researching and seeking the power of Mega Evolution, Mega Stones were obscenely rare and the Key Stones needed to activate them even more so. It had been nothing but a waste of time on a Wild Farfetch’d chase.

He was, however, one of the few people in this tournament using Z-Moves, and possibly even the only Non-Alolan Trainer to be doing so. After his failed attempt to obtain Mega Evolution, Brian decided that he would instead find a way to beat Megas which led him to train under Kahuna Hala in the Alola Region to learn Z-Power. Once his training was complete, Brian was gifted a Z-Ring and Fightium-Z only to then get invited to this tournament before he could find more. Having the use of just one Z-Crystal didn’t seem to be a handicap though as he still made it to the quarter-finals with his team in a tournament full of S-class Trainers.

“Which dessert would you like Sir?” inquired the waiter coming back with the menu. The Trainer gave the menu a once over, looked around at his team, then turned back to the waiter with a “sorry-not-sorry” grin.

“This whole page here.” he said running his hand down the list. The waiter’s face was of someone regretting their life choices that led them to this career.

“R-right away…” he stammered before walking off again to fulfill the order. Little did that poor waiter know, less than half of the food brought out would be eaten that night while the rest would be put into cold storage for a later time.