Up in Smoke [PG]

[Whitewash]

Up in Smoke [PG-13]

This is just something I wrote up last night and finished today (the first chapter, at least), and I figured it was an interesting idea, so I went ahead and decided to post it. I have to admit, though, it's a little info-dump-ish in the beginning, and I still have no idea where it'll actually go in terms of plot. >_>; Just going along as I write, I guess.

EDIT: PG-13 for language and, uh, couple of dirty jokes. Couldn't help it, see...

EDIT #2: Dying without decent outline. Now that the actual story is beginning to form, both in the writing itself and in my head, I'm poking at all sorts of little plotholes I've been able to ferret out in my writing. ._. Especially-ecially-ecially the Rayquaza incident, because this fic originally wasn't intended to take place in any certain timeline, and now that it does I have to take it into consideration. And the news. And stuff. I want... to rewrite so that my story will actually get somewhere. >_>;

Chapter One: The Circumstances of the Lavaridge Gym​

Flannery watched with disinterest as her Torkoal bit into a pile of coal from a bag she had recently bought to feed it. The skies were clear this afternoon, making the already hot town of Lavaridge even hotter, and she was beginning to wonder why the hot springs were even open today. There was really no more need to sweat. You did enough of it outside the springs, and if that wasn't enough, there was always the top of Mt. Chimney. Lavaridge was a lazy little town with more old people than young people, and the younger ones often moved out as soon as they were able to because this town was just that boring.

No, Flannery didn't like her hometown in particular; it was simply a small hot springs town and couldn't compare to bigger cities like Petalburg and Evergrande. She had heard some people say that it had some sort of earthy, rustic charm to it because it was so small and right next to an active volcano. She didn't think so, of course, since she had lived there her whole life. She found nothing special about it. It was tiny and ancient, and so were most of its people. Big deal.

If anything, though, living in such a sleepy little town made her pretty lazy about her various Gym Leader duties. There was training to do and the Gym's upkeep, as well as various issues, the politics, really, of the town. Gym Leader status was equal parts esteemed and loathed, due to the power one had as a Leader and the massive amount of effort one had to put into their job in order to justify that power. Gym Leaders were more influential than most of the world knew, in fact. They helped to to make important decisions in their respective cities, especially those involving Pokémon. Most of the older, more experienced leaders were actively involved in their city councils, Pokémon-related or not.

Flannery, of course, was not. The Lavaridge City Council didn't trust her enough for her to even approach the building. As she was fairly new to the job, she was more or less an ignorant little girl for all they cared. The fact that she was notoriously absent-minded and often as lazy didn't help, either. She hadn't really chosen to be Gym Leader, though, as because of the lack of young people and consequently, active Pokémon trainers in town, they really had no other choice. The former Gym Leader was retiring due to old age (unsurprisingly), and because Lavaridge would not give up one of its few main attractions, they needed a replacement. Thus, they plucked the hapless young Flannery out of town, and made her train fire-type Pokémon so that the Gym wouldn't fall into disrepair.

The forced and sudden propulsion to Gym Leader status was confusing and disorienting to her at first, since she had never been interested in Pokémon training before and would have really rather wasted her days doing nothing in Lavaridge. Heck, she would have sooner taken over management of the hot springs than become a trainer. It was too much work, really... But instead, she had received the very large (and forced) obligation of becoming a Gym Leader and the representative of Lavaridge Town to the entire Hoenn League. Thus, she began the awkward task of learning how to train and take care of all those pocket monsters.

Nevertheless, it proved some interesting experiences for the formerly bored and lethargic girl. None of her Pokémon actually ever ended up being very quick; they were all rather slow in terms of physical speed. Torkoal was her first Pokémon, and then came Slugma and Numel. In fact, they all seemed as sleepy as she did, and her tutors found themselves having a hard time getting Flannery and her various monsters to pay attention to what they were doing. Eventually, she learned to enjoy battling somewhat. It was something exciting and out of the ordinary. It help to make life go a little faster, so to speak, and the change wasn't necessarily bad. Such were her thoughts, and so she went through and earned certification to take over the Gym. The former Gym Leader could finally retire after years of waiting for his replacement. It was not a quick process at all, but everyone seemed to figure that was how Lavaridge worked: very, very slowly.

The problem was that she was losing most of her battles. She wasn't thinking or caring enough about strategy or winning, and the trainers looking for their Heat Badge were getting it far too easily. Norman was beginning to complain about the sudden influx of bad trainers coming through and lack of recent good challengers. Of course, it was Flannery's fault for not living up to the League's expectations.

She had known this for a while, and it really, really sucked. She had never wanted the position in the first place. She wasn't like Norman or Winona or those other Leaders who were so passionate about their job. She wasn't passionate about it, and that was that. Unfortunately, life would not bode well for the tiny town of Lavaridge if she didn't get her act together and start battling like a real Gym Leader. The City Council would hate her even more, and she would be considered a disgrace to Lavaridge and to trainers everywhere, and so forth and so on. It was an extreme dilemma, especially in terms of immediacy, that not even her usual excuses would be able to save. She was used to taking things slow. Now it seemed that she just couldn't.

Watching her Torkoal, slow and inert as it finished off its lettuce, she suddenly remembered this and groaned inwardly. Her social life and Lavaridge Town's consistently good reputation were now in turmoil, and it was mainly her fault for her previous laziness. She was training a lot more often now, but fire types, she soon found out, were difficult to train when they were weak to three abundant types. How was she supposed to counter all those water-, ground-, and rock-type Pokémon so that only the trainers who deserved the badge were actually getting through?

Flannery sighed and shook her head, and gave an awkward smile at Torkoal as she watched it eat. Why her, huh?

She had a surprising amount of confidence in herself when the matter at hand dealt with things other than battling, however. In fact, she believed that if she put some decent amount of thought to it, she'd actually be useful during city council meetings. It was true. Flannery might have been exceptionally lazy, but that didn't mean she was exceptionally stupid. Quite the opposite; she didn't have much imagination to rely on during her daydreamy moments, so she focused her thoughts on matters that would actually be useful to her in real life. They never became reality, though. She didn't aim for any lifelong goal in particular, and she was about as boring on the inside as her initial appearance to other people was exciting and flamboyant.

"You done?" she asked, patting her Torkoal on the head.

The strong, stocky Pokémon uttered a throaty grunt in affirmation and pushed the half-empty paper bag towards her.

Her relationship with her Torkoal was probably the closest out of all her Pokémon, and for good reason. It was mainly due to him that some of her battles were actually won, and, she figured, the whole matter was being kept afloat. If Torkoal gave up, then everything would come crashing down for their small town. He was connected to her, and she was connected to Lavaridge. It was a fragile, intimate balance, and Flannery happened to be the factor most prone to fluctuation.

The pressure was all on her and... her Pokémon. They were stupid things, regardless of whether she loved them or not. The whole situation was making her grouchy as hell, and not even the hot springs could help that. Maybe she had eventually grown immune to its supposed healing effects after being around them for so long, but spending time in the hot springs never did anything to cure the constant headaches of politics and Pokémon and this and that and so on and so forth. Not being able to laze around made her a damn irritable person, except maybe around Torkoal, and only around Torkoal.

She watched as it slowly began to make for the Gym. Flannery looked to it and then down at him, and then walked over to the Gym door once she realized he was actually heading towards it. She opened the door and let him through.

Wait, open? The gym was supposed to be locked...

"Flannery," came a deep, throaty voice from inside the gym, "good timing."

She stopped dead at the doorway, noticing an old, gray-haired man between the regulation twin statues that adorned every Gym. Usually, she would have brushed it off as any of the other hundreds of old men that lived in town, but this person was something else. She recognized him as the former Gym Leader of Lavaridge, Mura.

"Oh, crap, Mura! What are you doing here?" Flannery spluttered. "Aren't you supposed to be doing senryuu or something?"

"You think I would not be up to date on the conditions of my former Gym?" asked the old man, narrowing his wrinkly eyes. "You should have realized I would be coming back a long time ago, and prepared. Now what? I see my old Gym is doing terribly! Heat Badges are being given out like pieces of candy! I entrusted this job to you, because I believed you would be able to do it."

"Yeah? I didn't want to do it. You forced me into doing it. I had nothing to do with Pokémon before you had to leave. Now I can't even sleep with half the people in town nagging me about the Lavaridge Gym. It's horrible! It sucks! I hate it! And I still don't want to have anything to do with Pokémon."

Mura sighed and shook his head. "You know, Flannery," he said, looking up, "there was a certain reason why we chose you, and not any other of the young people in town. You may be incredibly inert, but, as you must know, you're a clever girl. You might not like Pokémon, but you're a thinker. So few people in town are like that anymore. They're old. They're jaded. They do nothing but complain. You understand? There are less and less people coming to Lavaridge. No one likes the hot springs anymore, and it's getting harder and harder to ensure that our little town is doing well in both the Hoenn League and the region itself. With so much competition, we really needed something to attract more young people to the town, and of course the Gym was the most obvious choice."

"So why'd you leave the Gym in the first place?"

"I'm old!" he said, throwing his hands up. "Battles are tiring for me, not exciting. And my Typhlosion is getting old and tired as well. I wouldn't be worth a fight anymore when there are so many trainers around now. When I announced I was retiring, I really meant it, and I didn't get to until you came along and started training for the position. If you wanted to know, I requested you. I know you, Flannery. I was hoping—and I still am—that you'd become a great leader for this town. It doesn't matter what other people think of you, or even what you think of yourself. You're one of the smartest people in town." He nodded. "I'm not kidding."

Flannery clenched her teeth. "Tch. Yeah? You think so? I don't doubt it; I think so, too. There're a lot of stupid people in the world, Mr. Mura, but how much does stupidity have to do with Pokémon?"

"There's strategy involved, of course, something I've heard you're not taking advantage of enough. I'm sure you could easily defeat any trainer that comes to you, if only you paid more attention." Mura sighed again. "But I know, I understand you don't like battling, and you only have the job of Gym Leader because you were forced into it. And the people in town don't like it one bit. There was another young person, in fact, that some of the City Council had wanted to take over. I think his name was... Oh, I can't remember anymore. Well, his name doesn't matter, but the point is that's another one of the reasons why you're so detested in your own hometown."

"Yeah, thanks."

"But I believe in you."

"Did you really think that would mean anything to me?"

"Well... no."

Flannery gave a lopsided grin. "Good. I was beginning to think you were an impostor or something."

A waft of white smoke puffed up in front of her, and she noticed Torkoal looking up at her. His eyes were always closed, hidden under heavy eyelids, but his head was turned and his neck was straining to go up.

"I just wish," said Mura, his expression another one of anxiety, "that you would be more serious about this! I have no doubt that you are a good Gym Leader, it's just that you're too lenient about it, and now you've got the whole town in turmoil."

"I know, I know, I know. Everyone's been telling me that. I hate living in such a small town. Everybody knows who I am."

"Well, you are a Gym Leader..."

"Even the people who don't have anything to do with Pokémon?"

"It's... common knowledge. Anyway, I was hoping to give you some advice, if you'd care to take it, on how to solve this dilemma." He looked up at her. "Are you willing to take it?"

"You'd better talk now," Flannery said, bending down and stroking her Torkoal's shell, "while I'm still in the mood."

Mura's face began to light up. Flannery was a precocious girl, probably due to her having been raised by her grandparents in a town full of the elderly and experienced. He just wished the rest of the younger people in town were like that, but they all wanted to go somewhere else. She was an exception; perhaps it was due to her laziness, but she had said that she would stay in Lavaridge for the rest of her life. She hadn't shown that much interest in traveling, but she hadn't shown that much interest in the town or anything else, for that matter, either. Flannery was just a lethargic little girl with a better brain and less ideals than most.

"Well, you've been given some time before the League begins considering the shutdown of the Lavaridge Gym, correct?"

"Yeah," she said, rubbing the back of her neck in thought, "I've got about two months to show some decent battling. I've been training some because of that, but the period's just started and I haven't been showing good results, apparently. They say the whole point of Gyms is to moderate the influx of trainers from one town to another, apart from testing the trainers' skills and whatnot. That's why they're beginning to consider moving the Lavaridge Gym to some other town and getting a new leader for it in the process. Makes sense, I guess; it's more technical and more practical than the more advertised aspects of Pokémon Gyms."

"Yes, certainly. And since you haven't been taking care with your Gym battles, Norman's getting far more trainers than he can handle, and Winona and the next few Gym Leaders are suffering from a drought of trainers. It's causing the entire system to go haywire. Officials are even getting worried about the next League Tournament! You realize how far your simplemindedness has gone? You have to take more care in your battles."

Flannery's shoulders slumped and she groaned, wiping her face with her hand. "Yeah, you make everything sound so much easier." She stood up and looked him in the face. "It's a total crapshoot from here on out," she said with an uncertain expression, "and I'm doing as much as I can. I swear! It's just... hard, you know? Battles are fun and all, and training turns into results, but I never really liked either of them, and forcing myself to do them has messed up the entire system. Sometimes, you know, I wonder if I should really just let 'em tear down the Gym and rebuild it somewhere else. This whole problem isn't going anywhere good, it seems, no matter how hard I try."

Mura looked down. "You... really think so?"

"To be honest, Mr. Mura, I don't want to lose the Gym. It's been here for as long as the Hoenn League has, hasn't it? Plus, the change would probably postpone the League Tournament some, next year's, at least. It would be a huge change in administration. I might ruin it even more if I decide to give up the job." She frowned. "I don't really have a choice, do I? Damn..."

"Well..." said Mura with uncertainty, "I'm just glad you're still able and thinking. You may be inert, but you're certainly not inept. May I, uh... see how you've been doing, lately?" His eyes wandered over to her Torkoal.

"What, you mean like a battle?"

"Yes, of course. I want to see how you've been battling. I'm sure I can help you somehow in that aspect. Perhaps not anywhere else... but..."

Flannery stared down at Torkoal, and then at Mura. "...All right, I guess."

"Three-on-three, we'll make it, then."

Mura walked to the challenger's side of the field and Flannery walked all the way up to the Leader's, Torkoal following behind her. She watched with a rising dread as a Typhlosion materialized onto the field.

"Well... here goes nothing."

 

[emeraldslay]

This is fantastic! I'm really loving this story! You really got into the mind of Flannery and her problem, and captured her character really really well. I had never thought of the implications of an unexperienced gym leader, but this plot you've made has taken that idea and ran with it. I'm really interested to read more. 9/10.

 

[Astinus]

I'm seriously trying to think of something constructive to say. All that's coming to mind, however, is gushings of praise for this fic.

I'm hoping this remains as character-driven as it is now. I enjoy reading fics where the action isn't high all the time, and the characters have time for some introspection. And this fic delivered!

So yes, please keep writing this. It's going to be fun discovering the storyline as soon as you do, since you have no idea where this is heading.

 

[Whitewash]

Chapter Two: Pokémon, Battles, Strategies​

Flannery looked down at Torkoal. "You ready, Torkoal?"

The Torkoal nodded, and slowly made its way onto the field.

"Is that it?" asked Mura. "Is that the Pokémon you're going to use against my Typhlosion?"

She nodded. "Yep."

"All right, then: let's begin!"

The Typhlosion reared up on its hind legs, its neck erupting in flame, and gave a mighty roar before going on all fours again. The movement seemed to be a sort of ritual before battle, and it certainly looked menacing.

Torkoal, on the other hand, merely stood and watched. It was almost as if he wasn't paying attention at all.

"OK, Typhlosion, smokescreen!" Mura boomed, sounding more vigorous and more determined than Flannery could ever recall.

The creature roared and smoke suddenly began to seep from its lava quills, covering the entire Gym in a thick, black smoke. Everything was becoming obscured, and the air became think and dangerous to inhale. Torkoal and Flannery remained cool and confident in the face of the dark smoke, however. They were far too used to it for it to be much of a hindrance to them.

"Torkoal, withdraw into your shell. The old routine, y' know?" said Flannery, coolly looking down at the coal Pokémon in the midst of all the smoke.

"Typhlosion, swift!"

Torkoal had barely managed to fit its body into its shell before bright, star-shaped rays began to pummel its shell. The shell was battered this way and that, even to the point where it created furrows in the ground, though it was impossible to tell whether it had done any real damage to the creature inside.

"Rapid spin, Torkoal! You know, to get this smoke out of the way."

Torkoal began to spin rapidly in its shell, and the surrounding smoke began to clear. The smoke swirled around in a sort of black tornado around it, revealing where Typhlosion had been standing during the swift attack and spreading the rest of the smoke further to the walls of the Gym. Mura quickly took advantage of the spare time.

"Quick attack, Typhlosion!"

"Body slam it now, Torkoal!"

The two Pokémon suddenly smashed into each other with terrifying speed. Typhlosion made a headlong dash towards the spinning shell, while Torkoal picked up speed and flung itself towards the Typhlosion's head. They made contact, bone into shell. The bigger Pokémon was knocked back and Torkoal flew crazily to the side, spinning in all sorts of directions until it hit the ground.

"Typhlosion!" Mura's head jerked to the creature.

The Pokémon was standing off to the side and rubbing its head, having received a painful blow from Torkoal.

Flannery looked towards her own Pokémon, knowing that after slamming itself into Typhlosion, it needed somewhat of a recovery, as well.

"Y' know, they say that Blastoise fight better while withdrawn into their shells," said Flannery, a hint of a smile wavering around her face. "Y' think that's true for Torkoal, as well?"

Mura smiled back at her. "I can't say for sure... but... Typhlosion, rollout!"

Flannery grinned, watching as the Typhlosion curled itself up into a ball and began to roll furiously towards the lone Torkoal.

"You heard 'im, Torkoal! Protect!"

The Torkoal stayed stone-still as the Typhlosion rammed into and eventually onto it in an attempt to crush the large shell with its huge bulk. It then rolled outwards, picking up speed to ram into it again.

"And rapid spin!" It was an order from Flannery, and the Torkoal began to spin again as the Typhlosion rolled towards a second time.

The result was that the Typhlosion was knocked aside, skidding and tumbling as it did so. The Torkoal stopped spinning as soon as the Typhlosion had bounced off of it and slid over in the other direction, though it seemed unharmed.

"You're getting a little rusty, Mr. Mura," commented Flannery, raising an eyebrow at the old man.

"Oh? You think so?"

Typhlosion reared up again, barely fazed by the attack.

"Quick attack, then, Typhlosion!"

The big Pokémon went down on all four paws and sped towards Torkoal. It slammed into the shelled creature and sent it skidding to the other side of the field.

Flannery whistled, scratching the back of her neck. "Well, that sucks."

"And now flame wheel!" That was Mura.

Typhlosion jumped back and began to roll itself into a ball again, this time cloaked in flame. It sped towards the Torkoal, now some distance away.

As the fiery Pokémon moved, Flannery said, rather calmly, "OK, Torkoal, use iron defense."

Typhlosion crashed into Torkoal and, to the attacking monster, the Torkoal's shell seemed much harder than before. It stayed stiffly in place and Typhlosion merely bounced off it yet again. The bigger Pokémon faltered for a second, the pain surprising.

"Torkoal, smog 'im!"

As soon as the Typhlosion had managed to regain composure, a thick, white smoke began to seep out of the five holes of the Torkoal's shell. The smoke wavered up lazily, spreading thinly over the immediate area.

"Typhlosion, get away from there!"

The smoke was heavy, however, and it carried a drugging effect to the Typhlosion. It stumbled away from the other Pokémon, disoriented and sluggish.

"And use flamethrower, Torkoal!"

The black shell began to spew flames from the front, straight through the smog, and directly towards Typhlosion. The Typhlosion, after inhaling the strange smoke, was barely able to react. It took the full blow from the barrage of flames and fell on its back onto the ground.

"Typhlosion!" Mura, from his standing spot, worriedly looked over at his first and best Pokémon. "Typhlosion, get up!"

The creature groaned and struggled to get onto its hind legs, but failed and fell back again, defeated.

"All right, Mr. Mura," said Flannery, smiling amusedly. "I think that's enough."

He nodded, returning his Typhlosion back into its ball. "Yes, yes. I'm impressed. You're quite the intelligent battler; you know that. I have to ask, though, why are you losing so many?"

"Nah, you're just old. I'm just using the same old stock routine," Flannery replied with a shrug. "It works for the most part, though, and I can mess with it to fit certain strategies and such. Nothin' too flashy, though. I have to consider what to do for water Pokémon, too. I've been thinking about teaching all of 'em to use solarbeam, but how am I supposed to do that?" She looked down from Mr. Mura to her tired, achy Torkoal and gave an awkward smile as she returned it to its ball. "You need a break, too..." she spoke to the Pokéball.

"Is that so?" the man asked. "Well, it certainly works. As for solarbeam, I'm not sure how useful it'd be to you. It is considered a grass-type move, but grass Pokémon are much better off using moves like giga drain if you're talking about water and ground Pokémon. Razor and magical leaf attacks are useless on rock and ground types, you know, and the attacks can be burned with any fire attack. Solarbeam... it's sort of like a fire-type attack in the guise of a grass classification, and that's only because grass-type Pokémon learn it naturally."

"Huh... Is that so?" Flannery cocked her head. "Well..." she looked down, "uh, all right. I can live without it, then, I think."

"And how are your Magcargo and Camerupt faring?"

"Fine. But you probably already knew that... Say, wasn't this supposed to be a three-on-three battle?"

"Well, you took out my Typhlosion rather quickly... and my other two Pokémon are weaker than it. I had guessed you did well enough for me not to test you anymore; rather, you need to find some water, rock, and ground types to test them on."

Flannery looked at him skeptically. "Isn't that just an excuse to make up because you're getting old and tired? I bet you're becoming just as lazy as me." She continued to speak without waiting for any reply. "Listen, you're probably right on the water- and rock-type thing. I probably do need more training, or to develop strategies concerning 'em. If I don't work harder, life is going to suck. I know, and I get it." She stared at the red-and-white Pokéball in her hands.

"Well..." Mura paused. "I must say, you just defeated the best Pokémon of a former Gym Leader, and you say you can't defeat a ten-year-old kid with a Marshtomp?"

"Yep," Flannery replied without looking back, her tone dropping back to one of a lazy person. "Sounds like me, all right."

"Well, for heavens' sakes, why?" demanded Mura, his eyes narrowed.

"Because my Pokémon cool down or tire out too fast. I swear, everyone has a water- or ground- or rock-type Pokémon, or at least a Pokémon that knows a water-type move," she said with a frown. "Ground and rock attacks actually aren't that bad, but it's taking the actual Pokémon down that's hard."

"So you're saying it's the types, now do you? Well, I myself had a hard time with those, but I was known as a formidable trainer back when I was still a Gym Leader," said Mura.

"Yeah? Maybe you should teach me some strategies against them."

"Well..."

"See, you think it's hard, too!" she cut in. "Why'd I have to be the Gym Leader of such a difficult type to train?" She groaned. "It's hard, it's hard, and I hate it. I've hated it practically ever since I've been getting challengers. They're all stupid idiots who keep on screwing you over with a bubblebeam or self-destruction or a mud bomb. They don't use any strategy! It's just the abuse of powerful, super-effective moves and they didn't even deserve the damn pieces of metal."

Mura paused and thought for a moment, looking over Flannery's strained, angry expression. He was careful with his wording and approached her cautiously, not quite sure how to speak to her. "Say, Flannery..."

"What?" She glared at him.

"Might... might there be something else you want to say?"

"What? Like what?"

"Like... any problems outside battling? I understand it must be difficult to develop good strategies to counter certain types, but..." He suddenly found himself out of words to say.

"What are you talking about?" She narrowed her eyes. "I don't have any problems. The problems are the idiot trainers who think they're so smart. I swear, I have to do something to wipe that stupid smile off their faces." Flannery faced the doorway, and looked back at Mura. "I think we're done here," she said curtly, and walked out the door.

"Flannery..."

-​

After finding soot on the handle of the doorway, Flannery had decided to use the local hot springs for once. Smoke was dirty, and so was her Torkoal, though only her Torkoal was actually meant to be covered in soot. She took a shower, and then finally went over to an empty spring by herself to think over what Mura had said to her.

"Problems? I don't have any problems..."

She could think of nothing other than the frustration of having Pokémon that couldn't stand up to water-type attacks, or do decent damage against ground- and rock-types. There were a few strategies that had worked before, though most of them were difficult to remember in the midst of a heated battle, and every trainer had their own way of approaching things, so they couldn't all work. She was no longer lazy with her training, though; with everything going on she was busier than she could ever remember being.

She still hated most of the challengers that came up to her and won, and those that didn't were practically lost in despair for having lost against a Gym Leader that was supposed to be a complete pushover. Flannery realized that this might be the source of her problem, but solving it was... Well, the trainers themselves weren't really a problem. Rather, it was something else, and Flannery found herself lost as to why she couldn't pinpoint why she was doing so badly.

Was it because she had a bad imagination?

She sighed and rested her arms against the edge of the bath. It was such a ridiculous responsibility for someone who didn't even want it, and it was as if all anyone could do was make it worse, or abolish it altogether and stop the cycle for about a year or so while another Gym got built. Though the problem would be over with then, just proving that she could be a capable Gym Leader would be so much easier, and it would certainly make everyone else in town feel better.

Flannery finally figured that she should stop blaming it on the trainers and instead on herself. Everyone else was blaming her, after all, and how could all of those people be wrong? (Well, they could, but if even she thought so, then they were probably right.) The problem was her and her Pokémon. They liked her well enough, and she was around them so often that she didn't have any problems with them, exactly. She was just too lazy to do research and get to know the strengths and weaknesses of her pocket monsters.

So, she thought, all Pokémon had weaknesses. All right; all people had weaknesses as well, though they weren't elemental, and not always physical. This also meant that all Gyms had weaknesses to be exploited. There was not one Pokémon who was impossible to defeat. This made her wonder how, well, other Gyms managed to fight the weaknesses that they had. Type strengths and weaknesses were elementary, and every trainer was taught them before going on his or her journey. On the field, of course, it was something different, but the basic strengths and weaknesses always remained the same: fire was weak to water, water was weak to grass, and grass was weak to fire, and other such triangles.

Now what? Should she start raising Pokémon to counter water and rock and ground types? That would be simple: she could just pluck an Oddish or Seedot or Cacnea from somewhere and start training it. It didn't feel quite right, but she had heard that the Gym Leaders in Sinnoh did it, so it mustn't have been unheard of.

The only problem with her current Pokémon, she believed, was their attacks. If they were to stand up to their weaknesses, they'd have to develop attacks to counter them. They didn't have to be perfect, but using earthquake, throwing the Pokémon off balance, and charging into them wouldn't work every time, she knew. The Gym wasn't invincible, either, and she had heard of a few incidents where the whole place literally sunk into the ground. Magcargo with Ancientpower was powerful and didn't destroy anything; it was just that the attack took some time to prepare and there were water Pokémon that were much quicker. She didn't want to give the position of Gym Leader just yet. Seeing the looks on other people's faces when she actually improved them was worth keeping it alone.

"Yeah," she said aloud, grinning.

Maybe Mura was right. Maybe she wasn't such a bad trainer, after all.

-​

Flannery looked at her Camerupt with a quizzical eye as it snorted and pawed at the ground. It was a strange thing, that Camerupt, with two large, rocky volcanoes set firmly into its back and three blue rings on the sides of its reddish body. The creature's eyes were big, blank, and angry as they looked back at her, but they held no particular malevolence. She still hadn't learned how to tame it that well, yet, and its volcanoes still randomly exploded from time to time. Once, she had tried to visit a rancher to learn how they tamed their own Camerupts... until she learned they just let them run around on the farmland outside until they got all their built-up magma out.

They were behind the Gym, this time, on the training grounds. They were useful things, training grounds, especially when she actually used them. The dirt was littered with burn marks and sometimes cracks or holes where the ground fell through during a practice earthquake. Fire and ground attacks were dangerous; the people who had built the Gym knew that, and they had given future Leaders a wide open space for practicing attacks of any kind.

"All right," she finally said, walking over to one of various old, worn boulders on the grounds. "Let's try this again." She patted the large rock. "Test eruption on this, 'K, Camerupt?"

It gave some sort of deep cry from within its throat and stared directly at the rock. Then the Camerupt stood perfectly still, until it began to shake violently. The volcanoes on its back trembled as something seemed to swell and rise within them. Flannery quickly ran away from the rock and watched as Camerupt wildly charged into it, magma spurting from its back in an explosion of smoke and molten rock. The Pokémon stopped right next to the rock to catch its breath. In its midst, cooling lava fell to the ground, and smoke was everywhere.

...Why had she even bothered to take a shower?

The boulder itself was covered in smoky, red-hot lava, and had that happened to a Graveler, it would have been extremely painful... right? Still, most of it was off the mark, and a lot of it had ended up far past the rock, or sprayed around the area.

Eruption was a powerful move, but it was hard to control, and though Flannery liked to finish her battles as quickly as possible rather than drawing them out for forever and ever, this move in itself completely wiped out her Camerupt. It stood weakly on all fours, its own weight seeming to bring it down. Earthquake as well, she had only used the move a few times in Gym battles and always ended up losing them. She was sure both the moves were some sort of key to victory, with the way she liked to battle with Camerupt, but the poor thing was lacking the stamina necessary to use them effectively.

"All right... That's all right," she sighed, patting the tired creature between its ears and scratching under the thick crest of fur on its head.

Camerupt gave a little snort, and Flannery returned it back to its ball and took out Magcargo for a change. The slow-moving Pokémon materialized into the world and turned to her with a vacant look.

None of her Pokémon seemed to be quite as clever as her, did they? She should have turned the Gym into a normal-type Gym and trained an Aipom.

She stared at the battered rock and told Magcargo to use Ancientpower, a rare attack that few Pokémon could learn. The creature nodded back.

The ground suddenly began to shake, somewhat like Camerupt, only Flannery could actually feel it under her feet. Rocks loosened up from the earth, though their rising movement was slow, and were sent flying as soon as they left the ground. The levitating rocks shot into the boulder with breakneck speed. They cracked and whistled as the flew, and soon the whole area around the battered boulder was rife with bits and pieces of hard stone. It looked like a devastating move.

The only problem with this attack was that any old Marill could spray water in its face while it was trying to summon up rocks from the ground. Yawn was a hit-or-miss attack due to the fast pace of battles, and Flannery had to drag out the battle long enough for the opposing Pokémon to tire out and actually submit to the effect. By that time, Magcargo would have probably been tired out itself, or cooling at such a fast pace due to any water attacks it had taken that she'd be forced to withdraw it. Recover worked from time to time, though the magma circulating throughout Magcargo's body was sluggish, and sometimes it just wasn't fast enough.

She loved to take things slowly. Too bad battles were so heated, and trainers so hyperactive. (At least, that's how they seemed.) It was yet another reason why she didn't like being a Gym Leader. There were so many things to do: so many trainers to face, so many Pokémon to train and the rest of the town to deal with, as well. It must have been a multitasker's paradise. Though not a lot of people in town liked her all that much, anyway, except for the odd creepy old lecher and a certain few who actually knew her, so they wanted her out, and she wanted herself out, too. Yet there was Mr. Mura and the whole rest of Hoenn to consider. Damn her bad luck.

So it wasn't that Flannery sucked, just that she took her own sweet time in doing things. Well, actually, she had known this for quite a while, but old habits died hard and all that. Even though she had told Mr. Mura everything and everything about being concerned for the League and the Gym, her mood swung from serious to lax quite easily. She couldn't motivate herself to do much anything, because she just didn't. She lived alone, and only the occasional visits from her grandparents and Mr. Mura actually reminded her that there was another part of her life and she was a Gym Leader.

Flannery glanced down at Magcargo. It was staring off into the distance somewhere, lava dripping off of its body and hardening on the ground into some igneous rock—basalt, or if cooled too quickly, glassy obsidian. Pumice was probably forming from Camerupt's eruption about now. Knowledge of rocks was pretty useless in battle, though, because the Gym didn't have any. It was just a dirt floor. Magcargo was constantly dripping lava, though...

"Hmm..." Flannery thought for a second, and an idea formed in her mind. "Hey, Magcargo, instead of picking up huge rocks from the ground, why don't you just use rock throw and use it with all the pebbles littered around this place?"

They cooled quickly enough, at least between individual Pokémon battles. The red-hot chunks of rock flew up into the stone like bullets, and though they bounced off easily, it would bruise or even pierce the skin of water Pokémon with the speed Magcargo could control them. It sounded painful, but it was an idea. Battles were all about stamina, weren't they? Besides, the rocks took some time to cool, and they were just all sorts of shapes, not just sharp ones, so...

"Hmm... yeah."

Flannery returned her Magcargo and started to head for home. It was getting pretty dark outside, and she was going to have to write a few things down.

Wow. I am teh lame at action scenes. (Got any advice? I'm not completely sure if I'll need it, but...) The stuff about strategy makes enough sense to me, though, and I think I have a faint idea of where this story's gonna go. :P If it does go through (that is, the idea) you'll be surprised. ;)

 

[emeraldslay]

This chapter is fantastic.

You are very good at writing battle scenes, and I'm glad to see that Flannery beat Mura. I'm also really liking Flannery's character development - she seems to be getting more motivated, less lazy. I enjoyed the bit where she was devising stratagies - that was great.

 

[Whitewash]

Chapter Three: Faustus​

It was raining outside the next morning, as she heard from the bedroom window. After sluggishly rousing herself out of bed and taking a shower, she changed out of her nightclothes and headed towards the front door.

She stopped.

It wasn't that she hated the rain; no, it wasn't that at all. In fact, she liked rain. After spending so much time around heat and smoke and fire, rain was a godsend, not to mention that the area was so dry they rarely got any. It also reminded her of the slow-moving, sleepy days before she was handed the position of Gym Leader. Seemed like such a long time ago...

It was what lay past the door and a few feet from it that made her stop in her tracks—the mailbox, to be exact. Every day was the same. Flannery was so afraid that, for some reason, she would get a letter stating the two-month period would be canceled and the Gym shut down immediately. It was paranoia more than anything else, really. She liked the Gym more than she could admit to herself.

Another day, another trip to the mailbox. This couldn't be any different, could it?

She hadn't been smart enough to get an umbrella or something else to keep anything other than herself dry, so there were little dark splotches all over the envelopes and droplets on the plastic bag containing the newspaper. There was a heavy feeling rising up her chest, though, because there was one large envelope with an emblem that she could not have mistaken for anything else: the Pokémon League.

No, no, and no. This was not happening. There was such a feeling of dread around the large, thick envelope that she knew, just knew, that this was the one piece of mail she had feared would come all along. It was here, and there was no mistaking it.

Weakly, the Gym Leader forced herself to open the package, carefully running her fingers along the edges of the damp flap to not tear the insides. (If she had gotten a chance to, though, she probably would have.) There was a big stack of papers, along with an official-looking letter on the top, address directly to her. They looked like registration forms... No.

No, dammit, they were resignation forms, in big, bold letters! They were going to make her resign and give up the Gym. Tear it down and build a new one, somewhere else, and get a new Leader.

She slammed her fist against the stack of papers, her eyes strained with fury and her face flushed with anger. A few from the top fell lifelessly to the floor. And when she had thought everything was going to go so well, they just threw this in her face. It didn't even make sense. Why? Why were they doing this? What the hell had happened to the two-month trial period? All that paranoia, it had actually amounted to something, as much as she always had tried to ignore it. Why?

Gripping the edge of the table, she made herself sat down. Her face was to the floor. Good God. Maybe she should have been expecting it. No one had been on her side in the first place, except for Mura and a few other individuals whose mention meant nothing. Politics, especially those of the Pokémon sort, were purely power struggles. If your Pokémon weren't powerful, then you weren't a Gym Leader. Funny, that. Maybe if you had the money or some useful idea to share, something in the sciences, like potions or Pokéballs, you could make something of yourself outside the competitive league. There was no other way, it seemed, and Flannery... Well, she was a special case.

There was no use fighting this. If there was, then she would've gotten a chance to actually refuse the position of Gym Leader. Then again, she was going to have to give it up anyway. Flannery stared at the stack of papers again, figuring she would try to fill them out sometime today... maybe read the letter if it actually had any useful information. It was all official, this stuff—papers and papers and nothing else.

And another part of her just wanted to burn them all.

She looked around the room in silence, empty save the pouring rain outside. It battered loudly against the windows, and seemed almost freakishly fit for her current situation. Then again, Lavaridge was close to a desert, and shared many of the same characteristics as one. The rain was no exception.

Then she noticed the phone. How would Mura react if she told him this? Not well, certainly, but it would only be polite to tell him the truth rather than hiding it from him. Maybe she could invite him over somewhere and discuss... it would probably be better, though, for her to come over. Making the old man visit in the pouring rain would just make the whole thing even worse for him.

Flannery punched the man's home phone number in and waited for him to pick up, hesitating to just drop the phone and hang up before he could answer.

"Hello? Flannery?"

"Yeah, uh..." she said into the phone. "It's about the... um, Gym." She herself was surprised about how weak and awkward she sounded. Usually, she was good about this kind of stuff.

"Yes? What about it?"

"Uh..."

"Well, go on. What is it?"

"Um... They're... going to... close it."

"Close it? They're going to close the Gym?" His voice seemed to be pleasantly neutral.

"Yeah," she replied, nodding despite the fact he wouldn't be able to see. "They're going to close the Gym down. That's it."

"Close... close..." he muttered. "Close..." Then, there was an abrupt pause from his side of the line. "Wait—they're going to close down the Gym? Flannery, I—!"

"Ehehehe..." the girl nervously chuckled into the phone. "I... I should probably go over and explain it to you. Let you cool your head for a moment, 'K?"

Ignoring his shocked stutters, she hung up and dropped the phone back onto its charger. Boy, oh boy, oh boy...

-

Flannery rapped her knuckles against the door of apartment 207 of some random complex around town. Being a city full of old people, there was so much equipment for getting around, it was difficult to get around yourself if you didn't need any of the stuff. So she had to literally navigate the floor and the lobby below it for fear of, well, bumping into some huge piece of machinery.

After waiting for some time, she finally heard the door click open. Standing in the doorway was Mura, his morning robe still on and his face as blank and vacant as her own Magcargo's. It seemed as if he hadn't showered, eaten or done anything of note in the time she had taken from calling him to getting to his apartment. It wasn't that far away, but...

"Fla... Flannery," he said dumbly, face unchanging, "wel... welcome in."

She took his offer and stepped in behind him, watching the stiff, lifeless shuffle of his feet as he went around the sofa and coffee table to the lamp further from the room. Mura tried to turn on the light, and failed.

Flannery cleared her throat to gain the man's attention. He barely turned around.

"Um... Mr. Mura, don't you have a switch for that?" she asked, indicating to the light switch right next to the door.

"Y-yes," he replied, and stumbled over to the switch to turn the light on.

"You'll have to turn the lamp on..." Flannery glanced at the old man's face before deciding on something else. "You know what? I'll do it for you."

Even the lightning seemed flat and dim as the blinding rain continued outside, and Flannery knew very well why.

"So... so you, you were tell to, erm, tell me about... about something?" Mura fumbled over his words. He felt around behind him, tried to sit down on the arm of the sofa, and then felt around again before finally sitting down on a seat.

He had seemed perfectly fit and strong the day before. Flannery then reminded herself that it was her fault. Again. Damn, this was going to be a long day...

Flannery plucked a chair sitting in another corner of the room and sat down in it to face Mura. She took the dreaded envelope out of the plastic bag she had been carrying and placed it on the coffee table between them.

"Yeah, uh, this is the packet that has all the information about... the closure of the Gym, uh, in it," she explained, looking down at it.

Seeing Mura's face was like torture; she just couldn't look at him without twisting her face in some sort of pity or guilt or other negative emotion. It just made her feel a lot, lot worse.

Mura's reply was belated, but his eyes were beginning to pick up a faint light—that might have been it, but it was so flat and dead that it might as well have been the weak, blinking lamp a few feet away. "Is... is that so?"

"I haven't gone through it yet, either," Flannery continued as she shook out all the papers, "so I know as much about it as you."

"Yes... yes," he said. His hands shook as if he had arthritis, something Flannery didn't remember him having, as he took the letter from the top. Mura looked up at her again after his eyes scanned the letter. "This?" he asked. "This is it? This is... this is what you've been talking about? Closing... close... Closing the Gym?" He looked down, then at her again after forming the words on his lips. "They're going to close it?"

She nodded, almost painfully. "Yes." Then she turned around and her eye caught a doorway. "Um, feel free to go through them. Can I use your bathroom, for a sec?" She pointed her thumb towards the doorway.

"Y... yes. Go ahead."

She flew over practically at the speed of light and slammed the door shut behind her. Flannery edged from the door to a vacant wall and gave a long, heavy sigh.

"Oh, ****."

She cursed and cursed and cursed, repeatedly banging her head against the wall for all it was worth. Even if Mura heard her from outside, it wouldn't matter, because he wasn't able to react, anyway. The shock of her previous statement had shut down one or two parts of his brain. Now he was acting just as old as he should have been, and that was a very, very bad sign that something very, very wrong had happened. Maybe if she hit her head enough, she would faint and develop amnesia, and she wouldn't have to worry about any of this anymore.

She could be like her Magcargo, and just forget about everything...

Something in her left coat pocket clicked. Then there was noise of a Pokéball being opened, and a bright red flash filled the whole room until a sleepy, sluggish, young Growlithe appeared in front of her on the floor.

"What?"

Outside, Mura was still absentmindedly going over the letter, reading it to himself over and over again. He hadn't noticed anything at all.

After blinking out its sleepiness and stretching its limbs, the Growlithe puppy leaped straight into her arms. Flannery would have fallen over had she already not been against the wall.

"Woah! Hey there," she told the Growlithe, staring down at its bright and energetic black eyes. "Where'd you come from?"

She shifted the squirming Growlithe to her right arm and fished something out of her pocket with her left.

"A Pokéball...?"

Well, crap. Now where had this come from? Thank God Pokéballs kept their creatures in a state of suspended animation that could be recovered from quite easily, otherwise she would have been a target of Pokémon activists, along with everyone else who already didn't like her. Nevertheless, why and how had she even forgotten it? It was true that it rarely rained in Lavaridge due to the conditions, and that was probably why it had been there for as long as it had, in the first place. Still...

The Growlithe barked and panted cheerfully. Flannery decided to set it on the ground and return it back to its ball, poor thing. She would let it outside for some fresh air later, and hopefully find out where on earth it had come from.

The girl opened the door and walked back to her seat. When she looked up at Mura, she noticed that he looked different. More lively, maybe, or... not quite. Maybe just more aware, for some reason.

"Did I hear barking?" he asked faintly, his eyes focused on the bathroom door.

Flannery's eyes darted away from him as she attempted to come up with a decent explanation for why, and failed.

Mura ignored her. "Because, I just remembered, this little Growlithe puppy I used to have... My Arcanine had just died, and I had grown bitter, and oh, that puppy gave me so much happiness," he murmured fondly, his eyes glistening with tears. "I think I might have given it away, though, because I was so old, I needed someone else to take care of it. But... who? I wonder..."

Flannery's eyes grew wide. She took the Pokéball from her pocket and held it out to him.

"Could you have given it to me, by chance?"

Mura probably could have fainted clean away, if it hadn't been for his sudden surge of energy. "That's it!" he cried, pointing to the translucent ball. "That's it! I gave him to you! Don't you remember?"

"Uh..." To be honest, if she had left it in her raincoat pocket, either she hadn't been paying attention to him while he was handing it over, or it wasn't hers. "Yeah! You gave it to me."

Mura's attention immediately detracted from the papers in front of him and over to the Pokéball. "Flannery!" he said. "What have you been doing with Faustus all along?"

Faustus, huh...

"I brought him over. You know, for something like a reunion," she lied, almost without thinking. "I figured that since you've been away from each other for so long, Faustus should see his old owner again. Just for the memories." She smiled. "Right?"

"Why, I'm wondering why you haven't done it before?"

Flannery swallowed.

"Oh, you must have been so busy with that rowdy pup you didn't have the time. I understand. Well," he motioned to the ball, "go ahead, let him out!"

She pressed the button at the front of the ball and it maximized, and pressed it again so that the Growlithe was released. Everything about it was in pristine condition—the fur, the posture, and most likely all of its memories and other bodily functions had been perfectly retained. The puppy cocked its head at Mura, and then cheerfully jumped into the old man's arms.

Mura smiled and laughed, hugging the Growlithe roughly to his chest and petting it all over. He was a far cry from what he had been just minutes ago, and Flannery was just glad he was happy again.

Her eyes automatically went back to the abandoned piles of paper. They'd have to go back to it sometime. For now, though, they could leave it, and hopefully by the time the deal with, uh, Faustus was done and over with, Mura would be composed enough to get back to what really mattered. Seeing him so happy, though... It'd be hard to get that face back when she confronted him with what to do about the news.

"Let's go get something to eat, shall we? For, well, myself, and the Growlithe," Mura said to Flannery, smiling.

She smiled back and nodded. "Let's."

The raining outside had finally stopped.

Short chapter, I know. For various reasons, though, I'm going to combine the first two chapters into one (at least, when and if I post it elsewhere), and what'll be the next chapter in this thread will be the rest of chapter two anywhere else. Just makes things easier... I think.

 

[Whitewash]

Chapter Four: Dinner with the Chairman​

After eating out and getting the cheerful and energetic Faustus food, it was tough to confront Mura with the papers yet again. Yet, here they were the next day, at the same table, with Faustus in his ball. The Gym had been locked up and trainers turned themselves back, so hopefully news would get around that it was closed as of now.

Mura seemed visibly older again and stared down at the papers with an anticipated dread. "These... I looked through them. It's all official-looking stuff," he said with distrust, "babbling all kinds of garbage, but no doubt, they're definitely going to completely shut down the Gym, if not destroy it." He sighed and shook his head. "Ridiculous, this, that they wouldn't even give you a chance, though I do have a hunch why."

"And?" asked Flannery, cocking her head.

"The Lavaridge City Council certainly had something to do with it, and probably the Rayquaza incident last year, as well. You remember the phenomenal damage it did to Sootopolis and Pacifidlog and all that, right? I believe Mossdeep and Evergrande remained mostly unharmed, but both those cities were left in complete ruin. It was devastating. And still, they want to continue League Tournament preparations. Those fools..." Mura looked down, then up at her. "Now, then, that's why."

"That's it?" she asked. "That's the only reason why?"

"You have to understand, Flannery, that the League has its own devices to attend to. They can't take care of anything, and I suppose this was the only choice they had. There's an awful lot going on in the city now, with trainers being turned back. You might even notice a few people going up to you and complaining. This will do nothing good for our town, but," he threw his hands up, "you know, the League just does not care!"

"You're kidding! Well..." she paused. "Actually, I can sort of understand that. Still..."

"Still, yes, it seems unfair. Even I don't think it makes much sense, though I believe it has some merit. This is the Hoenn League, we're talking about, after all, and the Rayquaza incident has just made it all worse. You're fighting against a higher power, Flannery."

"Oh, don't talk about it like it's Arceus, or something," she grumbled. "Isn't there anything I could do about it?"

"Well, for starters... I suppose going to the League wouldn't be a bad idea," Mura said carefully. "You do have your rights as a Gym Leader, after all. They didn't give you much chance to speak for yourself. You'll have to call in advance, though; the League is always swamped with all sorts of people. Goodness knows how the Interregional League gets anything done. But, ahem," he cleared his throat, "yes, you could try that, and see if it gets you anywhere."

"Call in advance, huh..." she mumbled. She looked up at him again. "Is that really the only advice you can give me? I mean, I have to buy boat tickets to get to Evergrande. The connecting bridge, I heard, was destroyed during the incident and stuff."

"The only advice I can give you if you want to contact authorities," he replied. "While tedious, it does seem to be the best way. You can ask them questions, and such. And if they don't reply, well... Yes, go over there by yourself."

Flannery frowned, doubtful that it would work. "All right..." Her eyes went down to the floor, and then up again. "You sure? I mean, it seems kind of... Barging in there doesn't seem right, you know? I am a Gym Leader, but I don't really exercise the sort of power I have very often. It's not like I have that much, anyway... At least, the City Council doesn't recognize it."

"The City Council is different," said Mura with a tinge of indignation. "The League is fair enough to let you speak to them. It's not like they're the League of the whole entire world, now is it?"

"Yeah," she said with a shrug. "All right. I get it. I'll try that..."

"Good." Mr. Mura nodded. "Run along now; you want to get the call in as soon as possible, before anyone else. The League is very busy."

"You mean like, now?" Flannery was bewildered.

"As soon as you get home!"

Mura was practically urging her to go and call, so she figured she might as well.

-​

"The chairman's expecting me and wants to invite me over to dinner? What?" Flannery spluttered into the phone.

"Yes, it seems so. He left a message saying exactly that," came the woman's nasally tone. "In fact, he himself was about to call you, but apparently he forgot about it and didn't have the time to do it, otherwise."

"Are you serious?"

"I don't lie, Miss."

"Well... uh, all right. Could I get the date and time?"

"He wants it... next Saturday, and a limousine will pick you up at six o' clock at night. Can you remember that or would you like a reminder?"

"I think I can remember it, thanks."

"All right. Just remember: next Saturday at six."

"Yeah. OK. Bye."

Flannery set the phone down, her mind and face blank as to what to do next.

What? What? What?

-​

The days passed like lightning. Sure enough, as Mura said, trainers were noticing the signs posted around the city talking about the Gym, and they were leaving. The people of the town were beginning to notice that Flannery was no longer spending her days at the Gym as well, and she did not take the fact in stride. Sometimes the only thing that actually made her want to keep on going, it seemed, was the endless energy of that tiny puppy, Faustus.

When the day finally came, Flannery knew it would be an extremely formal event. Chairman, as in, the chairman of the Hoenn League, Steven Stone? Heck yes, it would be. So she had let her hair down; ironically, it looked neater down than it did put up, but that probably had something to do with the seemingly random layers it had been divided into. She also had to wear something nice, and, it being so long since she had actually needed to attend a very formal event, she had to buy something. She had guessed from the looks of the woman at the store counter that she had grown, anyway.

The limousine that came to pick her up was shiny, black, and flawless. There were no visible dents or scratches on the sides or the tinted windows, and every surface of the steel car glinted against the fiery sunset like pure spring water. It showed the signs of money spent, and lots of it.

A faceless driver had walked out of the car and allowed her in. She stepped inside the roomy passenger's seat, trying to ignore the man's derisive stares at her dress. Though rarely the object of sexually-repressed perverts, it was really, really beginning to show. (Like she said, she had grown.)

"Your mother was a beauty," her grandmother would always say with a dreamy, far-off look in her eye.

Gee, Flannery wondered why.

More pressing matters were at hand, however. Now that citizens and trainers alike were realizing the Gym was closed, there was an impressive, quickly-moving flood of trainers coming to and leaving from Lavaridge Town. The next four Gyms would surely be getting extremely stressed by now, and the confusion generated from the Gym's sudden closure was beginning to show even through the windows of the chauffeured limousine. No doubt it would become one of the biggest news stories to date.

She really, really hoped that Mr. Stone would have a decent amount to say. Rustboro was about forty-five minutes away and the area around Lavaridge was mountainous and rocky. The trip had to be worthwhile for her to stand all the bumps and driving on the edges of mountain roads until they reached lower ground. The leather seats were plush and comfortable, but they were also slippery. Not even sitting at the very edge of the passenger's seat did much to stop her from sliding every now and then.

They encountered a traffic jam closer to Rustboro, kicking up the forty-five-minute drive to an hour, but Flannery supposed, with all the waiting she had to do beforehand, fifteen minutes wasn't really that much longer to wait. It was dark now, around seven or so. Rustboro, with all its cobblestone sidewalks and bone-white buildings, looked like something out of the nineteenth century. Never had she seen so many buildings that were all the same color. It was strange, really. With the old-fashioned street lamps reflecting off of them, they even had splotches of bright orange at the bottom.

They finally arrived at the White Rock Hotel, supposedly the oldest hotel in the city. It was pure white and made of limestone, just like all the other buildings in Rustboro. All the carvings seen under the various window ledges and other convenient projections that jutted forth from the large hotel were actually pure white marble, though. Nevertheless, marble was just metamorphosed limestone, and the fact that it was pure white was just another sign of even more money spent.

The driver opened the door and Flannery walked out, rather than letting the man take her arm and help her out. Though not too experienced in high-heeled shoes, she could fare well enough without anyone else. His previous stares at her made her increasingly untrustworthy, as well. Despite that, the driver walked in with her and asked for Mr. Stone at the reception desk inside the White Rock restaurant. Flannery was led to her seat, and was met with a very familiar face: Steven Stone.

As she had known beforehand, Mr. Stone had become Chairman of the Hoenn Pokémon League after the Rayquaza incident. Wallace had taken his place as Pokémon Champion of the Elite Four, and Juan had consequently taken Wallace's place as Hoenn's eighth Gym Leader. It had taken weeks to get the whole thing done and it was plastered all over the news, so she could never have forgotten. Steven Stone's employment as Chairman of the League, interestingly enough, was the only topic kept under wraps.

He was a slim man, though taller than her, with calm, clever eyes that had suddenly made her very uncomfortable. They looked straight at her face and nowhere else, completely focused and completely at ease. Pleasant it was not, however, as there was something about the way he sat, the way he looked at her, that told her that something else was going on. It may have been her distrust of the League from the start, but... all of this stuff, the formalities and such, it was just so... awkward. It was like everyone was playing some sort of cruel game with her. She felt powerless when she looked into the eyes of a man with such assurance and grace, and those being only because he had so much influence on what went on around him.

It was the world of Pokémon politics, and right now, it did not seem fair at all.

He pick up a large, wide glass, filled about a fourth with ruby-red wine, and swirled it around just below his nose. The Chairman looked like he was used to it. The large diamond atop one of the two steel rings on his left hand didn't help, either.

"So," he said, a furtive smile playing around his lips and his voice as smooth as the wine he was sipping. "I'm sure you're concerned about the Lavaridge Gym." His tone didn't imply it at all, however.

Flannery shifted uncomfortably, and he noticed it at once.

"You don't seem to be skilled at these sorts of meetings, do you?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in either badly-concealed false concern or teasing ridicule.

Her eyes shot straight through his; the unexpected burst of magnanimity that shot up straight from her chest to her throat caused his facade to falter slightly. "No," she said, her tone flat. Her position was now extremely lax compared to the stiffness she had been experiencing before. She glanced to the crystal glass at her right before continuing.

"Listen," Flannery looked him at again. Her narrowed eyes reflected the light of the candle between them. She sat half-leaning over the table, and her voice was as dim as the barely-lit room. "I have no idea why you're doing this, but you'd better have something huge planned, or else you must be one of the stupidest people I have ever met." Her eyes darted back towards a waiter before shaking him off. He wasn't theirs. "You're causing a lot of mess and confusion, and nothing's being done to clean it up. We're doing the best we possibly can, and you're just sitting around and waiting? What for?"

Steven set the glass down firmly onto the red, silken tablecloth. His face was becoming stern, and it was easy to tell he had been irritated by her scathing answer. "Miss Flannery, I don't believe you understand how the system works. You know, we didn't want to close down the Gym. We knew what was going on around Lavaridge and Petalburg, and we wanted to give you a chance. But we couldn't. We weren't able to. We're just as pressured as you are—no, even more than that."

"Then why did you close down the Gym in the first place? I thought I had two months before you even started considering shutting it down," she retorted. "I was trying to improve!"

"I told you, we were pressured. The Lavaridge City Council was pressuring us, the Petalburg Gym was pressuring us, the Fortree, Mossdeep, and Sootopolis Gyms were all wondering why they were getting less and less trainers... We had no choice," he explained. "We had to. There are so many other matters the League has to attend to, we figured it would be better just to shut it down to stop the flood of complaints. We'd be taking a risk in doing that, but we were forced to. There was just no other way."

Steven sighed, putting a hand up. "I apologize, honestly, I didn't think you were that attached to it, after all. And you weren't faring that well, either. The two-month period was terminated because of time restraints; even if we had gone through with it, we couldn't be sure of the results. If we had the time and money, we could have sent you more experienced trainers to help you, but we've been so twisted up in getting tournament preparations ready, we had to completely trash the idea. The Evergrande Stadium is so large and complex it has to be prepared months in advance, not to mention the Rayquaza incident, as I'm sure you remember, has destroyed parts of Sootopolis and Pacifidlog. With that and the unexpected flood of trainers to Petalburg, and the latter being because of the Lavaridge Gym, we were forced to close it. Tournament preparations are still ongoing, but trainers who haven't already received all eight badges will have to wait until next year."

Flannery didn't reply for a while, taking all the information in. She had almost forgotten about the Rayquaza incident with Kyogre and Groudon after being so nervous. Evergrande, too, she supposed that made sense, but it just didn't seem fair to make other trainers wait until next year. There were at least four more months till the stadium opened for the League Tournament again. What would they do until then?

The various circumstances, though, were beginning to make her feel a bit greedy about not taking care of the Gym and then suddenly trying to save it. She swore there was still some way, regardless of how long it took, to save it, however.

"After all," she said, "that Gym's practically a relic. It's as old as the League itself, and everyone there would miss it a whole lot if it was torn down. Other than the old hot springs, it's really the only thing that ever attracts anyone there, and Lavaridge is lacking so many young people, the town might even just fall apart if there's no Gym to help it sustain itself. Even my own parents were both trainers, and that was practically the only reason they ever decided to move there."

Flannery's eyes suddenly strayed to something behind the Chairman.

Steven looked behind him. There was a man in a black vest and dress shirt holding a silver tray with food on it. Surely enough, it was the waiter.

"Would you like a refill of wine, sir? Anything to drink, madam?"

After ordering whatever they could read, they resumed conversation.

"Ahem, now that's out of the way," said Steven, "I'm sure that's a terrible dilemma in terms of your town. But I'm not sure that's something we can take care of, exactly." He eyed her carefully.

Flannery pointed to herself. "What? You expect me to do something about it?"

"You came all the way here. You must care about that city, correct? So certainly you could do something about its ailing economy."

"Listen, Mr. Stone, I just want the Gym back," she replied bluntly. "I don't want to do anything else. I just want the Gym, and that's the only thing the town will ever need. Seriously."

Steven sipped his wine again, his eyebrows knit at her. "Really? You didn't seem to care very much for it, from the data I had been receiving."

Flannery made a strained noise. "Ah, well, you see..." she tried, "it's just that being a Gym Leader is..."

The man smiled jovially at her. "Just weren't thinking enough, were you? I understand; the responsibility is a tough one to handle, and with your sort of attitude I'm sure anything you take seriously will go some way." His smile began to fade. "Unfortunately, I just don't know how we can manage that."

"What d' you mean by that?" She frowned.

"I mean," he said, his eyes severe, "the mess both you and Rayquaza have made will not be an easy one to clean up. We're still sending people over to Sootopolis to help rebuild it, the ongoing joint relief efforts will not be going away for a while, and we simply cannot trust you to fulfill our expectations. Any funding for further training you require cannot be helped, because it's all going to reconstruction and the League tournament. Simply put, we don't have any time for you. I really, really wish we did, to be honest, but we have far too much on our hands to deal with you."

"So can I do anything?" she asked, eyebrows raised in sheer disbelief. "At all?"

"There are always ways to do things," murmured the chairman loftily, leaning back in his chair. "You just need to find a way to do them, and, unfortunately, without any help from the Hoenn League administration. If you're really determined, then of course you can get something done. Otherwise," his eyes glinted with that certain slyness again, "forget about the Gym."

Flannery folded her arms and looked at the man critically. "That's it, is it?"

He nodded, smiling. "That's it."

She cocked her head at him with a frown. "Y' know what—pardon the language, sir—dammit, I don't trust you. You think you can get away with saying just that?"

"And you think we're not really tied up in relief efforts and tournament preparations? It's nearing opening day."

"It's four months from now!"

"Your Gym isn't as important as everything else we have to deal with," Steven seethed, growing impatient with her constant retorts. "I already told you that we would have done something if we could. We can't, and that's the complete truth. If you're so worried about it, then I'm sure you would have done something already. I am sorry, but we are just too busy."

She groaned. "So... what about Petalburg City?"

"What about it?" Steven snapped, and quickly took it back once he saw her surprised expression. "Excuse me..." he paused to compose himself, "Petalburg City will not be receiving anymore trainers until either Lavaridge gets a new Gym Leader or the Gym is torn down and rebuilt somewhere else. That is the only way to continue Hoenn League Gym operations after this year's tournament."

"So I can't do anything about it, huh..."

Steven eyes followed the red liquid as he rolled the the slim neck of his wine glass between his fingers. "You were the one that started this whole mess outside the Rayquaza incident, after all. You should be able to fix it, somehow. I might not be able to give you any ideas, but if you believe there's a way to fix it, then you can go do that."

Flannery cursed under her breath. It was always her fault, wasn't it? Always, always, always...

Dinner was tasteless and the ride back only served to make her drowsy. Faustus was waiting for her at home and followed her around like a well-trained pet, though even he seemed to notice how tired and stressed she looked. Steven's own frustration seemed to have worn off on her, hadn't it? She brushed her teeth and slumped off to bed without even saying so much as a word to her dear old puppy.

I realize the beginning of this chapter might seem a bit rushed to you, but I was so excited to get the actual dinner scene part down that... yeah. :P It indicates a huge transition in storyline, that is, from the supposed battling and tactics to straight-out politics, (Oh noes! D:) and it also goes in-depth on certain things that will be necessary for the story to advance. As for where the story will actually advance, uh, I'm sure I'll figure something out, right?... Right?