VeloJello
09-17-2013, 01:11 AM
Undefeated
“Are you ready to kick butt, Flashy?”
<Only if you are, Jello.>
Excitement tingles in my bones as we step forward, crossing the threshold to the Mauville City Gym. All around us are the many members of our family: her mother and father; her mother’s brother and his wife. My best friend, Jello, the one who cradles me in her arms, is shaking with equal measures of excitement and fear. I find myself similarly affected, as visions of the future pass before my eyes. I see the Manectric lunging for me with its wolf’s teeth gleaming; I see the Magneton sparking with electricity; I see my friend dancing with joy and wincing with sadness.
Today I will be fighting titans that loom over me and shoot blinding bolts of lightning every which way. But I have practiced for this battle for a long time. Jello and I are ready, and no amount of fear will deter us from taking our stab at greatness.
We find ourselves in a lobby with a shiny, gold-tiled floor, where a bespectacled brunette with a rather eclectic hairdo sits typing away at a desk. As the six of us step in, he looks up and smiles at us. “Hello,” he says. He seems friendly enough. “I’m Watt, Wattson’s assistant and receptionist. Are any of you here to challenge the Gym Leader?”
Jello’s uncle, Hector, lays a hand on her shoulder. “My niece,” he says, a smile in his voice, like he’s just told a funny joke. In the days since Jello announced to her family that she would fight Wattson, they have sounded like that rather often. I am a little unsure why.
A worried look flickers across Watt’s face. “Of course. Miss…?” He looks curiously at Jello.
“Miss Adelaide Jessica Crowe,” she says. Usually her tone is casual and happy, but right now she is making an effort to seem grown-up and businesslike. I gather, based on her small stature, slight stoutness about the tum, and large-eyed, pixie-like face, that it is difficult for her to get people to take her seriously. I rise a few more inches off the floor as she stands on her tiptoes. “You can call me Jello for short. Everyone does.”
Watt smiles. “Right. Well, Miss Crowe… Have you brought any Pokemon besides your Natu?”
Jello shakes her head and holds me a bit tighter, and I shift my wings higher so that they take up less of my decreasing space. “Nope,” she says. There is a slight edge of aggression to her tone. “Flash here is all I need.”
“I see.” Watt sounds troubled. “Well, the thing is, Miss Crowe, we hate to turn down challengers, but there’s the matter of preliminaries to be considered. You’ll have to fight three Gym Trainers before you can challenge the Leader. Your Natu -”
The side door opens, producing a mechanical beep. The man that steps through is stocky and short, for a human - not Jello’s height, but roughly even with her mother - with snowy hair that spikes at the back of his head like my own red crest, as well as around his lips and chin. His brown eyes are crinkled by the smile that seems to take up his whole face. “Watt!” he calls, causing his assistant to snap to attention. “Are you heckling potential challengers again?”
“No, sir,” says Watt. There is nervousness in his voice. “I was just trying to explain -”
“Wa-ha-ha!” Wattson’s laugh is a deep belly roar. “Relax, Watt. You must learn to lighten up; I was only teasing. So,” he turns toward Jello, “you and your friend Flash are here to challenge me, yes?”
“Yes, sir!” Jello grins. “We’re gonna give you a battle you’ll never forget!”
The Gym Leader teases a few strands of his lip fur, and I wonder how he gets it to stay in that spiked position. “Yes, yes,” he says. “I can see that you will! You’ve got a spark in you, fierce as a fire, and your Natu -” he says this as I am in mid-yawn, “- is certainly a force to be reckoned with. I will accept your challenge!”
As Jello steps forward, all but vibrating with excitement, Watt coughs, “The preliminaries?”
“Not today,” says Wattson with a wave of his hand. “There will be no need for Miss Crowe here to qualify herself. We will go directly to the field this time.”
The door opens with yet another mechanical beep, revealing an arena complete with bleachers and lined with tile similar to that in the lobby; this floor, however, has clearly seen the singes and scrapes of many battles. There are white boxes painted on either side of the field, while in the middle a stripe of white separates one side from the other. Wattson walks over to the opposite side; Jello carries me to the nearest box. As her family perches on the risers, Watt appears, standing on our left with a small assortment of differently-colored refereeing flags on either side of him.
“This will be a four-on-four -” the aide shoots a glance at Jello, “- erm, one-on-one battle using the standard League rules. The challenger will send first.”
Jello’s breath tickles my ear. “You can do it, Flashy,” she whispers, and tosses me gently forward. I land with a brief fluttering of wings. I shift my smallish feet restlessly; the tile is very cold.
Meanwhile, Wattson waits opposite us with a Pokeball in hand. My eyes go out of focus as I look at him; he seems so far away. Visions cloud my sight once again. There are so many possible outcomes to this battle, so many potential opponents. Who will I fight?
I see a flash of red light, and then a sparkling of yellow. The Electrike appears, howling as a corona of sparks that glint like fireworks surround its sinuous body. Its snowy teeth and coal-black eyes shimmer in the light. It looks around, searching the area above my head, before it sees me on its own level. A toothy grin appears on the fuzzy green face. He thinks that this will be easy.
Watt’s voice seems to fill the whole room. “Begin!”
“Use Tackle!” Wattson orders, and Electrike rushes toward me with a snarl. Suddenly the arena is very small; Electrike crosses it with blinding speed. I am hit before I know what is happening, but even though I am rolled nearly to Jello’s feet, I am not out of the fight. Before she can so much as cry out in worry, I have righted myself.
“Good, Flash!” Jello calls. “Now, use a Night Shade attack!”
Night Shade. This is something that I have practiced many a time. I begin to rise up from the floor, lifted by my own psychic power; intimidation is a huge part of this move. Raw energy fills me as I focus, and a corona of purple light surrounds me. With a mental shove, I send forth the energy, which manifests as three rings of crimson light. They crash into Electrike with slam after brutal slam.
As the Electric-type stumbles, Jello barks out another order. “Now, use your altitude and hit Electrike with your best Peck!”
Just what I would have thought to do. Electrike is still staggering as I flap my wings and pitch forward, boosting my speed with a telekinetic burst. “Electrike, dodge!” Wattson calls, but he is too late. My beak rams into Electrike, leaving a painful bruise on his side. For a moment, he stumbles, but then he raises his head sharply and lets out a snarl.
“Shock Wave,” says Wattson calmly.
I see things in out-of-order snapshots, so that when the attack hits it seems curiously like it has already struck. Light flashes across the gym, then I am lying on my side, then I feel the pain lance through me, then I hover in the air and rain down dark power. Past and future, past and future, everything jumbled in that moment of panic. When that bolt hits, I know real pain for the first time in my life. As the current cuts off, I find myself on the floor with every feather fluffed out. I am sure that I would otherwise make an amusing sight, but I doubt that Jello finds my plight funny at all.
Slowly, I manage to right myself. My muscles are stiff and slow, but they respond. I cast a glance behind me and see my partner and her family all looking at me in relief. The fight is not yet over. I still have a chance to win.
“Shock Wave again, Electrike.”
Panic. No. I can’t take another shock like that. For a second I stand, frozen on the Gym floor, and I am able to see it all as Electrike opens his mouth. I see the light reflected in every strand of spit hanging from his jagged teeth; I see the sparks and arcs of electricity form in the pink crag of his jaws and I see the lightning bolt fly forward, right toward me -
“Zen Headbutt!” she screams.
No more hesitation. I summon all of my strength. The pinkish glow starts in my forehead, then quickly spreads so that it coats my whole body like a shield. I throw my miniscule weight forward, fighting against the power of the wave of lightning towering before me. It shatters against my attack, although I feel stings in my sides as stray arcs lash me. They are unimportant pinpricks. Now, it is my power that is greater. And I know that Electrike feels this as I ram my entire, fast-moving body into his vulnerable side.
But his eyes are calm even as I stand over him. Because part of my mind is still rooted in the future, I see the violent pulse of lightning a full second before it knocks me on my rump.
Darkness. All darkness. I fight to stay awake, to open my eyes, but it’s as if they’re glued shut. My head pounds and my body is numb. Focus, I tell myself angrily. I cannot slip into the black. I must stay awake. I must stay awake and help Jello. For just a moment, I manage to force my eyelids apart; I look up into the sweet, innocent face, with its familiar frame of short brown hair. There is infinite tenderness there as she bends down over me.
Her warm hands scoop me up, and the spell is broken. Though I am still groggy, I am able to remain conscious. I can clearly see Jello’s family dismounting the risers and Watt packing up his flags. Shame fills me. I have lost.
Wattson stands in front of Jello, with Electrike at his heels. The little green dog shoots me a triumphant look and I turn away in disgust, burying myself in Jello’s shirt. However, I can still hear as Wattson says, “That was an excellent battle, Miss Jello.” There is a smile in his voice. I begin to wonder if he is ever not smiling. “Your Natu was the fiercest of fighters. You two gave us a run for our money, no doubt about it.”
“Yeah, well,” Jello says. As I feared, she sounds crestfallen. There’s a tense pause; much to my surprise, she sounds more upbeat when she begins to speak again. “You may have won, but I won’t stay beaten. Someday, me and Flash are gonna come back and kick tail here - and that’s a promise.” When she grins, I feel just a little bit better. Maybe I haven’t completely let her down. Cautiously, I pull back from the shirt. It’s stupid to try and hide.
Now that I can see again, I watch that too-wide smile widen again. A forest of spiked lip fur somehow remains completely stationary as Wattson nods. “I look forward to the day,” he says, and Jello reaches out her free arm to shake his hand. It is a curious human gesture that I, with my tiny wings, have difficulty imitating.
But as we walk back to Uncle Harold’s and Aunt Gina’s house for dinner, I can’t help but flutter said tiny wings with worry. Although I haven’t let Jello down, there is still a part of me that wonders if I could have done better, could have fought harder. <Jello…> I start to say, but I stop myself before the words get to her. No, I tell myself. I will not take on a defeatist mentality. She is always so strong, and I will grow up to be strong like her. She never gives up, always does what she thinks is right. I will remember that always and learn from it. So instead of wallowing in doubts, I ask one simple, teasing question.
<We’re not defeated, are we, Jello?>
“Not a chance, Flashy.” I look up and see the wolfish grin on her pixie face. “We’ll never be defeated.”
“Are you ready to kick butt, Flashy?”
<Only if you are, Jello.>
Excitement tingles in my bones as we step forward, crossing the threshold to the Mauville City Gym. All around us are the many members of our family: her mother and father; her mother’s brother and his wife. My best friend, Jello, the one who cradles me in her arms, is shaking with equal measures of excitement and fear. I find myself similarly affected, as visions of the future pass before my eyes. I see the Manectric lunging for me with its wolf’s teeth gleaming; I see the Magneton sparking with electricity; I see my friend dancing with joy and wincing with sadness.
Today I will be fighting titans that loom over me and shoot blinding bolts of lightning every which way. But I have practiced for this battle for a long time. Jello and I are ready, and no amount of fear will deter us from taking our stab at greatness.
We find ourselves in a lobby with a shiny, gold-tiled floor, where a bespectacled brunette with a rather eclectic hairdo sits typing away at a desk. As the six of us step in, he looks up and smiles at us. “Hello,” he says. He seems friendly enough. “I’m Watt, Wattson’s assistant and receptionist. Are any of you here to challenge the Gym Leader?”
Jello’s uncle, Hector, lays a hand on her shoulder. “My niece,” he says, a smile in his voice, like he’s just told a funny joke. In the days since Jello announced to her family that she would fight Wattson, they have sounded like that rather often. I am a little unsure why.
A worried look flickers across Watt’s face. “Of course. Miss…?” He looks curiously at Jello.
“Miss Adelaide Jessica Crowe,” she says. Usually her tone is casual and happy, but right now she is making an effort to seem grown-up and businesslike. I gather, based on her small stature, slight stoutness about the tum, and large-eyed, pixie-like face, that it is difficult for her to get people to take her seriously. I rise a few more inches off the floor as she stands on her tiptoes. “You can call me Jello for short. Everyone does.”
Watt smiles. “Right. Well, Miss Crowe… Have you brought any Pokemon besides your Natu?”
Jello shakes her head and holds me a bit tighter, and I shift my wings higher so that they take up less of my decreasing space. “Nope,” she says. There is a slight edge of aggression to her tone. “Flash here is all I need.”
“I see.” Watt sounds troubled. “Well, the thing is, Miss Crowe, we hate to turn down challengers, but there’s the matter of preliminaries to be considered. You’ll have to fight three Gym Trainers before you can challenge the Leader. Your Natu -”
The side door opens, producing a mechanical beep. The man that steps through is stocky and short, for a human - not Jello’s height, but roughly even with her mother - with snowy hair that spikes at the back of his head like my own red crest, as well as around his lips and chin. His brown eyes are crinkled by the smile that seems to take up his whole face. “Watt!” he calls, causing his assistant to snap to attention. “Are you heckling potential challengers again?”
“No, sir,” says Watt. There is nervousness in his voice. “I was just trying to explain -”
“Wa-ha-ha!” Wattson’s laugh is a deep belly roar. “Relax, Watt. You must learn to lighten up; I was only teasing. So,” he turns toward Jello, “you and your friend Flash are here to challenge me, yes?”
“Yes, sir!” Jello grins. “We’re gonna give you a battle you’ll never forget!”
The Gym Leader teases a few strands of his lip fur, and I wonder how he gets it to stay in that spiked position. “Yes, yes,” he says. “I can see that you will! You’ve got a spark in you, fierce as a fire, and your Natu -” he says this as I am in mid-yawn, “- is certainly a force to be reckoned with. I will accept your challenge!”
As Jello steps forward, all but vibrating with excitement, Watt coughs, “The preliminaries?”
“Not today,” says Wattson with a wave of his hand. “There will be no need for Miss Crowe here to qualify herself. We will go directly to the field this time.”
The door opens with yet another mechanical beep, revealing an arena complete with bleachers and lined with tile similar to that in the lobby; this floor, however, has clearly seen the singes and scrapes of many battles. There are white boxes painted on either side of the field, while in the middle a stripe of white separates one side from the other. Wattson walks over to the opposite side; Jello carries me to the nearest box. As her family perches on the risers, Watt appears, standing on our left with a small assortment of differently-colored refereeing flags on either side of him.
“This will be a four-on-four -” the aide shoots a glance at Jello, “- erm, one-on-one battle using the standard League rules. The challenger will send first.”
Jello’s breath tickles my ear. “You can do it, Flashy,” she whispers, and tosses me gently forward. I land with a brief fluttering of wings. I shift my smallish feet restlessly; the tile is very cold.
Meanwhile, Wattson waits opposite us with a Pokeball in hand. My eyes go out of focus as I look at him; he seems so far away. Visions cloud my sight once again. There are so many possible outcomes to this battle, so many potential opponents. Who will I fight?
I see a flash of red light, and then a sparkling of yellow. The Electrike appears, howling as a corona of sparks that glint like fireworks surround its sinuous body. Its snowy teeth and coal-black eyes shimmer in the light. It looks around, searching the area above my head, before it sees me on its own level. A toothy grin appears on the fuzzy green face. He thinks that this will be easy.
Watt’s voice seems to fill the whole room. “Begin!”
“Use Tackle!” Wattson orders, and Electrike rushes toward me with a snarl. Suddenly the arena is very small; Electrike crosses it with blinding speed. I am hit before I know what is happening, but even though I am rolled nearly to Jello’s feet, I am not out of the fight. Before she can so much as cry out in worry, I have righted myself.
“Good, Flash!” Jello calls. “Now, use a Night Shade attack!”
Night Shade. This is something that I have practiced many a time. I begin to rise up from the floor, lifted by my own psychic power; intimidation is a huge part of this move. Raw energy fills me as I focus, and a corona of purple light surrounds me. With a mental shove, I send forth the energy, which manifests as three rings of crimson light. They crash into Electrike with slam after brutal slam.
As the Electric-type stumbles, Jello barks out another order. “Now, use your altitude and hit Electrike with your best Peck!”
Just what I would have thought to do. Electrike is still staggering as I flap my wings and pitch forward, boosting my speed with a telekinetic burst. “Electrike, dodge!” Wattson calls, but he is too late. My beak rams into Electrike, leaving a painful bruise on his side. For a moment, he stumbles, but then he raises his head sharply and lets out a snarl.
“Shock Wave,” says Wattson calmly.
I see things in out-of-order snapshots, so that when the attack hits it seems curiously like it has already struck. Light flashes across the gym, then I am lying on my side, then I feel the pain lance through me, then I hover in the air and rain down dark power. Past and future, past and future, everything jumbled in that moment of panic. When that bolt hits, I know real pain for the first time in my life. As the current cuts off, I find myself on the floor with every feather fluffed out. I am sure that I would otherwise make an amusing sight, but I doubt that Jello finds my plight funny at all.
Slowly, I manage to right myself. My muscles are stiff and slow, but they respond. I cast a glance behind me and see my partner and her family all looking at me in relief. The fight is not yet over. I still have a chance to win.
“Shock Wave again, Electrike.”
Panic. No. I can’t take another shock like that. For a second I stand, frozen on the Gym floor, and I am able to see it all as Electrike opens his mouth. I see the light reflected in every strand of spit hanging from his jagged teeth; I see the sparks and arcs of electricity form in the pink crag of his jaws and I see the lightning bolt fly forward, right toward me -
“Zen Headbutt!” she screams.
No more hesitation. I summon all of my strength. The pinkish glow starts in my forehead, then quickly spreads so that it coats my whole body like a shield. I throw my miniscule weight forward, fighting against the power of the wave of lightning towering before me. It shatters against my attack, although I feel stings in my sides as stray arcs lash me. They are unimportant pinpricks. Now, it is my power that is greater. And I know that Electrike feels this as I ram my entire, fast-moving body into his vulnerable side.
But his eyes are calm even as I stand over him. Because part of my mind is still rooted in the future, I see the violent pulse of lightning a full second before it knocks me on my rump.
Darkness. All darkness. I fight to stay awake, to open my eyes, but it’s as if they’re glued shut. My head pounds and my body is numb. Focus, I tell myself angrily. I cannot slip into the black. I must stay awake. I must stay awake and help Jello. For just a moment, I manage to force my eyelids apart; I look up into the sweet, innocent face, with its familiar frame of short brown hair. There is infinite tenderness there as she bends down over me.
Her warm hands scoop me up, and the spell is broken. Though I am still groggy, I am able to remain conscious. I can clearly see Jello’s family dismounting the risers and Watt packing up his flags. Shame fills me. I have lost.
Wattson stands in front of Jello, with Electrike at his heels. The little green dog shoots me a triumphant look and I turn away in disgust, burying myself in Jello’s shirt. However, I can still hear as Wattson says, “That was an excellent battle, Miss Jello.” There is a smile in his voice. I begin to wonder if he is ever not smiling. “Your Natu was the fiercest of fighters. You two gave us a run for our money, no doubt about it.”
“Yeah, well,” Jello says. As I feared, she sounds crestfallen. There’s a tense pause; much to my surprise, she sounds more upbeat when she begins to speak again. “You may have won, but I won’t stay beaten. Someday, me and Flash are gonna come back and kick tail here - and that’s a promise.” When she grins, I feel just a little bit better. Maybe I haven’t completely let her down. Cautiously, I pull back from the shirt. It’s stupid to try and hide.
Now that I can see again, I watch that too-wide smile widen again. A forest of spiked lip fur somehow remains completely stationary as Wattson nods. “I look forward to the day,” he says, and Jello reaches out her free arm to shake his hand. It is a curious human gesture that I, with my tiny wings, have difficulty imitating.
But as we walk back to Uncle Harold’s and Aunt Gina’s house for dinner, I can’t help but flutter said tiny wings with worry. Although I haven’t let Jello down, there is still a part of me that wonders if I could have done better, could have fought harder. <Jello…> I start to say, but I stop myself before the words get to her. No, I tell myself. I will not take on a defeatist mentality. She is always so strong, and I will grow up to be strong like her. She never gives up, always does what she thinks is right. I will remember that always and learn from it. So instead of wallowing in doubts, I ask one simple, teasing question.
<We’re not defeated, are we, Jello?>
“Not a chance, Flashy.” I look up and see the wolfish grin on her pixie face. “We’ll never be defeated.”