Enperuto
Lurking Connoisseur
- 72
- Posts
- 18
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- Age 32
- Western Michigan
- Seen Dec 21, 2008
Well, I haven't posted much fan fiction in a while, but here's something new... It's a battle one-shot for an SPPf contest (they have a lot of contests don't they), which happens to be due tomorrow. I just want a few opinions or something... Anyways, it's written like a memoir, I'd say. And the disclaimer and stuff is intended as part of the story... And no, the site is not valid (yet).
Disclaimer: he swears, and I just **** it, with -ing on the end. If that disturbs you... Well, I never made you read it.
By the way, word count is 1080, for those who care.
Chapter Two: Lessons in Hoenn
Part I: The Power of Pink
Disclaimer: he swears, and I just **** it, with -ing on the end. If that disturbs you... Well, I never made you read it.
By the way, word count is 1080, for those who care.
Chapter Two: Lessons in Hoenn
Part I: The Power of Pink
Three whole hours.
That's how long it had taken me to reach the gym leader.
Not only had he placed an ice maze so peculiarly that it took me three tries to get past it, and still I had gashes and bruises from the falls, but before I could even get back to the ladder and go back up to try again, trainers would ambush me.
All female, all hot, but all certainly not my type. Too tomboyish, and a bit peculiar when talked to, plus a lot more that I don't even want to get into. Their pokémon were just as bad, and though it took a while, I expended little energy doing it.
But still: three hours.
Quota was one thing, but that would definitely hurt my JOS Hoenn standings. And I was aiming for top one-hundred current as well.
But still, Juan was in front of me, and I had made it.
Facing adventures untold.
Nothing to do but step forward.
Unmask it all and step forward.
I should probably turn my iPod off now, right?
I did, sliding it into my pocket, and replaced it in my sweating palms with a pokéball.
Nothing left to do but start.
With an air of authority (which, come on, everyone knows refs don't have any), the referee shouted all officially into the air, "This will be a one pokémon per side per round match featuring the Honorable and Noble Gym Leader Juan Cortez of Sootopolis and Young and Eager Challenging Trainer Jacen Petalburg of Goldenrod City, a trainer registered of Littleroote Town. Either victor will receive a thousand Hoenn dollars, and if Young and Eager Challenging Trainer Jacen Petalburg victors, he will also be awarded a 2008 – 2012 Japanese Circuit and Ever Grande League sanctioned Rain Badge."
Enough with the royal babble, on with the show!
"Stop the charade," I muttered under my breath.
"Each trainer may use six pokémon, and the winner by a majority out of eleven possible rounds will victor. You may begin on my count. One… two… three… go!"
I looked up from my pokéball and took a final look at the stadium. It was the standard layout – triplet crescent-moon pools of water, fifteen feet deep. You've probably seen it of community tv when you were really sick and missed school and even Cartoon Network wasn't running the normal stuff due to some stupid political crisis.
The next moment passed in a blur. Both I and Juan sent out a pokémon, and I immediately realized I was screwed over. I had hoped that possibly I could use my Blaziken. After all, he had sat out in Mossdeep and had been ko'd instantly in Fortree. No glory this time either. Juan's first pokémon, which had to be the weakest if he was going by the usual Van Zealand strategy of progressive development, was a Luvdisc, and usually in a water-type gym with swimming pools, the land lubbers were first to be shot at.
So, that left the other seven. I knew it would come to this.
Good thing I hadn't sent out Blazey first.
So this was how it would begin… Mightyena against Luvdisc.
"Roar!" I shouted. My voice rasped slightly. Blame puberty.
"Water Pulse then Dive!" Juan countered. He eyed his pokémon, who sat in the water calmly.
Who saw that coming? Anyone?
Mightyena charged, snarling. Meanwhile, the animate pink heart dove, then jumped out of the water to release a pulsating beam of blue energy.
Good thing I had trained my Mightyena while the ferry to Mossdeep was down in Lilycove. The gray and black wolf dodged to the side with speed and bound into the pool, sending a wave of sheer intimidation at the pathetic pink pokémon.
It connected, though since it's a status effector, who really knows if it's just a conspiracy theory run by Team Rocket to get a kick out of n00bs.
Anyways, I watched in dismay as the pink abomination (yes, it's an abomination now), dove down into depths.
Call me a n00b, and it was my first year, but I loved to give my pokémon ultra cool moves. Mightyena was no exception, and I had tricked him out with a few technical machines back in Mossdeep in anticipation of the final badge.
"Hyperbeam!"
Juan almost quivered in fear, though he didn't show it. Call it intuition: I could tell.
But, he was useless, as his Luvdisc was way out of hearing range. Water is sort of bad for talking, after all. So, he couldn't help it that the beam of golden-white energy shot downwards towards the floor of the pool and hit with such force that the whole pool was emptied unto I, the ref's, and Juan's laps.
It is on this occasion that I realized the true power of pink pokémon.
It is an interesting phenomena. If you've watched a league tourney in full, you've certainly come across it: spectral advantage theory is a laughed-at science, but it is real. Tourneys such as the World Cup a year after I won are proof. My first challenge of Juan was no exception.
When the hyperbeam penetrated the water, Luvdisc used an ancient technique that, once long ago, nearly every pokémon knew as a matter of self defense. It teleported instinctively, right into the next pond.
Not only did Juan or I not notice this, but Mightyena didn't either. Luvdisc leaped out of the water and threw Mightyena down into the now-empty pool with a Secret Power.
****ing pink pokémon.
Don't ask how the rest of the match went – you don't want to know. Though I'm sure you've heard it once or twice, so I'll just set the record straight(er): I didn't lose all six rounds to Luvdisc, just five. My Golduck was able to fight back against Luvdisc with his own personal psychic powers.
Call it luck, call it conspiracy, call it a countereffect of Roar… who knows? All that I know, was that I was glad that Ash Ketchum battled Juan a few days later and upset the leader, and by the time I returned, he had pulled his Luvdisc ought of the first line up.
Thank Arceus.
*Taken from Memoirs of a Champion: Jacen Petalburg with permission from Millenium Publishing Company. The memoir was published in 2015 after he was crowned world champion at the seventy-fifth annual pokémon association-configuration World Cup. For more information visit www.jacenpetalburg.com/memoir.
That's how long it had taken me to reach the gym leader.
Not only had he placed an ice maze so peculiarly that it took me three tries to get past it, and still I had gashes and bruises from the falls, but before I could even get back to the ladder and go back up to try again, trainers would ambush me.
All female, all hot, but all certainly not my type. Too tomboyish, and a bit peculiar when talked to, plus a lot more that I don't even want to get into. Their pokémon were just as bad, and though it took a while, I expended little energy doing it.
But still: three hours.
Quota was one thing, but that would definitely hurt my JOS Hoenn standings. And I was aiming for top one-hundred current as well.
But still, Juan was in front of me, and I had made it.
Facing adventures untold.
Nothing to do but step forward.
Unmask it all and step forward.
I should probably turn my iPod off now, right?
I did, sliding it into my pocket, and replaced it in my sweating palms with a pokéball.
Nothing left to do but start.
With an air of authority (which, come on, everyone knows refs don't have any), the referee shouted all officially into the air, "This will be a one pokémon per side per round match featuring the Honorable and Noble Gym Leader Juan Cortez of Sootopolis and Young and Eager Challenging Trainer Jacen Petalburg of Goldenrod City, a trainer registered of Littleroote Town. Either victor will receive a thousand Hoenn dollars, and if Young and Eager Challenging Trainer Jacen Petalburg victors, he will also be awarded a 2008 – 2012 Japanese Circuit and Ever Grande League sanctioned Rain Badge."
Enough with the royal babble, on with the show!
"Stop the charade," I muttered under my breath.
"Each trainer may use six pokémon, and the winner by a majority out of eleven possible rounds will victor. You may begin on my count. One… two… three… go!"
I looked up from my pokéball and took a final look at the stadium. It was the standard layout – triplet crescent-moon pools of water, fifteen feet deep. You've probably seen it of community tv when you were really sick and missed school and even Cartoon Network wasn't running the normal stuff due to some stupid political crisis.
The next moment passed in a blur. Both I and Juan sent out a pokémon, and I immediately realized I was screwed over. I had hoped that possibly I could use my Blaziken. After all, he had sat out in Mossdeep and had been ko'd instantly in Fortree. No glory this time either. Juan's first pokémon, which had to be the weakest if he was going by the usual Van Zealand strategy of progressive development, was a Luvdisc, and usually in a water-type gym with swimming pools, the land lubbers were first to be shot at.
So, that left the other seven. I knew it would come to this.
Good thing I hadn't sent out Blazey first.
So this was how it would begin… Mightyena against Luvdisc.
"Roar!" I shouted. My voice rasped slightly. Blame puberty.
"Water Pulse then Dive!" Juan countered. He eyed his pokémon, who sat in the water calmly.
Who saw that coming? Anyone?
Mightyena charged, snarling. Meanwhile, the animate pink heart dove, then jumped out of the water to release a pulsating beam of blue energy.
Good thing I had trained my Mightyena while the ferry to Mossdeep was down in Lilycove. The gray and black wolf dodged to the side with speed and bound into the pool, sending a wave of sheer intimidation at the pathetic pink pokémon.
It connected, though since it's a status effector, who really knows if it's just a conspiracy theory run by Team Rocket to get a kick out of n00bs.
Anyways, I watched in dismay as the pink abomination (yes, it's an abomination now), dove down into depths.
Call me a n00b, and it was my first year, but I loved to give my pokémon ultra cool moves. Mightyena was no exception, and I had tricked him out with a few technical machines back in Mossdeep in anticipation of the final badge.
"Hyperbeam!"
Juan almost quivered in fear, though he didn't show it. Call it intuition: I could tell.
But, he was useless, as his Luvdisc was way out of hearing range. Water is sort of bad for talking, after all. So, he couldn't help it that the beam of golden-white energy shot downwards towards the floor of the pool and hit with such force that the whole pool was emptied unto I, the ref's, and Juan's laps.
It is on this occasion that I realized the true power of pink pokémon.
It is an interesting phenomena. If you've watched a league tourney in full, you've certainly come across it: spectral advantage theory is a laughed-at science, but it is real. Tourneys such as the World Cup a year after I won are proof. My first challenge of Juan was no exception.
When the hyperbeam penetrated the water, Luvdisc used an ancient technique that, once long ago, nearly every pokémon knew as a matter of self defense. It teleported instinctively, right into the next pond.
Not only did Juan or I not notice this, but Mightyena didn't either. Luvdisc leaped out of the water and threw Mightyena down into the now-empty pool with a Secret Power.
****ing pink pokémon.
Don't ask how the rest of the match went – you don't want to know. Though I'm sure you've heard it once or twice, so I'll just set the record straight(er): I didn't lose all six rounds to Luvdisc, just five. My Golduck was able to fight back against Luvdisc with his own personal psychic powers.
Call it luck, call it conspiracy, call it a countereffect of Roar… who knows? All that I know, was that I was glad that Ash Ketchum battled Juan a few days later and upset the leader, and by the time I returned, he had pulled his Luvdisc ought of the first line up.
Thank Arceus.
*Taken from Memoirs of a Champion: Jacen Petalburg with permission from Millenium Publishing Company. The memoir was published in 2015 after he was crowned world champion at the seventy-fifth annual pokémon association-configuration World Cup. For more information visit www.jacenpetalburg.com/memoir.