Finally, after what feels like ages, this RBG is done.

-------------------
“So you gonna buy it or what??”

“I dunno…I’m not so sure…”

Trey scratched his head uncertainly, eying the table with a critical eye. The salesclerk, a short, greasy-looking man who smelled faintly of Swiss cheese, huffed loudly, an impatient foot rapping against the linoleum. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon- and Trey had been saddled with the task of replacing the furniture Prophecy and Cooler had broken. Of course, saddled wasn’t the right word… he was the only man of the house, right? It should be his responsibility.

A small, reddish-orange lizard who had been waiting quietly at his side stepped forward. The Charmander, whom he had christened Charmene, was the newest adoptee of his group and also the youngest. Deo had sniffed and labeled her as another mouth to feed, but Trey had taken her everywhere for the last week, to try and help her adjust to him. She seemed wary of large groups, and for that reason, he never let more than one Pokemon out while she was around. At the moment it was Troit.

Of course, there was no denying that money was going to be tight. With seven Pokemon, the cost for Pokefood was enough to keep him fed for one good month. It helped that most of his Pokemon were adept at foraging for their own food, and were bothered less by the rations of food he doled out every night. All the same, if things didn’t pick up soon, he might be in some financial trouble.

Still preoccupied by his thoughts, Trey didn’t notice his Charmander growing antsy. Charmene inched forward and gave the table a nudge with one small paw.

“Hey!” the clerk snapped, sounding angry. Trey couldn’t imagine this guy in any other mood but angry. “Keep your lizard on a leash! It’ll scratch the merchandise!”

Startled, Charmene quickly stepped away from the table as it wobbled unsteadily from side to side gently. Soothing his Pokemon with a soft word, Trey bent down and examined the table more carefully. Mimicking the lizard’s action, he gave the table a little nudge and watched as it rocked back and forth. One of its legs was flimsy!

“You trying to hustle me?” Trey asked, putting on his best “tough-guy” expression. It must have worked fairly well, because the clerk gulped loudly and put his hands in front of his chest, palms facing out.

“Hey buddy…take it easy… the table’s still in good condition- I’ll give it to you at half-price! 75 stamps!”

Trey glared at him, letting him squirm for a good ten seconds, before turning and walking out of the store, Charmene and Troit at his heels. The clerk was still slashing prices as he left. Sighing, Trey shoved his wallet, woefully thin, into his back pocket and sighed loudly.

“Dang… what a way to spend a Saturday!” Trey griped. Aimlessly, the trio began to walk down the road. “Knowing my luck, Cooler and Prophecy will probably break something else right after I buy a table- if I can find one cheap, which I doubt.”

“Couldn’t you try to build one?” Charmene asked. As a loud group of teenagers passed on their right, Trey noticed the Charmander shrinking against his leg for comfort and half-smiled. She’s so shy. Or is it fear based in something else? Charmene was still so young- old enough to battle, but still learning so much about the world. He hoped he would be good enough to make her experiences with his team favorable.

“I could, but it wouldn’t be usable. I’m a trainer, not a carpenter, you know. Though, with Cooler and Prophecy around, it might be a good idea to look into a good carpentry business.”

“You still have to replace that broken lamp, too,” Troit reminded him.

Trey groaned loudly, slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I forgot all about that, Troit! I really hate shopping for things that shouldn’t have been broken in the first place…”

“Well, what can you do?”

“Good question. What can you do?” Charmene asked, her expression thoughtful. Troit and Trey shared grin. Obviously, the Charmander had never heard of a rhetorical question before. And then, it struck him- he knew exactly what they could do!

“I’ve got an idea! Why don’t we try stopping by the MTU?” Trey suggested. “I’ve been told that they have several training and exercise centers in the lower levels, though much of it has been damaged since the attack from the Crimson Blades. What do you think?”

The two agreed, though Charmene had no idea what the MTU was. Troit disliked battling, yet he agreed nonetheless, probably so as not to be the wet blanket of the group.

In fact, out of all of his team members, it was Troit- and possibly Charmene, being new- who cared the least about battling. Cooler and Prophecy loved to fight other Pokemon only slightly more than each other. Zake, too, had often expressed his desire to evolve. Deo would probably fight a L 100 Onix if given any sort of reason, and Destai usually followed the Voltorb’s decision in just about everything. He didn’t know enough about Charmene yet to attempt to judge her. Troit… Trey understood that what the Grimer wanted even more than experience was friendship, true friends that he could laugh and cry and connect with.

Perhaps he will develop a feel for it the young man thought, beginning to explain the role of the MTU to his curious Charmander. He stole a sideways glance at Troit, who was moving along with the pair easily, a look of good cheer on his face. There was no dread or discomfort or- most importantly- fear at the chance of a battle. Only time would tell.

It was a short walk to the Mercenary Trainer Union, still in its usual place in Alpha Square. Trey, despite having been there only a few times, navigated the hallways like a veteran, even flashing the secretary at the desk a knowing smile. Unfortunately for him, it turned out to be same trainer-hating woman he had met during the maze challenge.

“I’d like to visit the MTU’s training facilities, please,” Trey asked politely, hoping to avoid another lecture. When the secretary’s penciled eyebrows narrowed, he realized he wasn’t going to be that lucky.

“Why am I not surprised? Isn’t that all you people do?” the secretary cried dramatically, raising her head to the sky in a “why me” position. Muttering unpleasantly, she sifted through the mass of paper on her desk with almost unnatural speed, before handing him a small red card. The MTU logo was stamped on the top of the card, and printed in blocky letters were the words, “Training Center.”

“This access card is given only to members of the MTU, and will allow you entrance into our facilities below. Try not to lose it,” and under her breath, she added, “though you probably will.”

“Doesn’t she know we can hear her?” Troit said in a stage whisper, hiding his voice behind his hand.

“Why does she draw on her face?” Charmene wondered out loud. “Her eyebrows look funny.”

Though the peeved woman did not understand the Pokemon’s chatter, she was suspicious enough to suspect that she was being made fun of. Hastily, Trey ushered his two Pokemon towards the stairwell before she could start up again. Still, he couldn’t help wondering: why work at the Mercenary Trainer Union if you hated trainers? Was employment that hard to find in the city?

Of course, if you asked her, she would probably say something like, “you people don’t have to worry about taking real jobs, do you?”

The lights seemed to dim as they made their way down the stairs. They passed a few trainers who were on their way back upstairs, who nodded to him. After walking down two flights, the air seemed to change…becoming thicker, and acquiring the smell of…what? Perhaps it was Pokemon sweat.

The MTU training facility was a maze of rooms to the unwary, a criss-crossing network of rooms connected by intersecting hallways. Each room corresponded to a certain Pokemon type, and were of different sizes depending on weight and height of the Pokemon. Slowly, the trio walked along the hallways, inspecting the different training centers. A clear, plexiglass window allowed one to view the Pokemon inside, and served as an effective barrier for a misaimed attack.

The Normal Room was a spacious room with several exercise equipment about. In one corner, there was a large stadium, where a group of Miltank raced across the field, trying to determine who had the fastest Roll-out attack. In the center of the field, a group of Clefable and Wigglytuff practiced their Metronome, with…explosive results. A pair of Meowth squared off in a small clearing, teeth bared, while a female Persian looked on.

They moved onward, looking into Steel Room. Here, the environment was made up of reinforced metal, designed to withstand the vicious attacks of the Pokemon within, giving it an industrial feel. A group of Beldum and Metang watched as a larger, rugged looking Metagross began to lift an adult Steelix into the air. Trey watched in amazement as the Steel/Psychic pokemon tossed the steel snake across the room, where he fell with a large KRASH! All of the Pokemon inside the room jumped, and even Trey could feel the rumble of the Steelix’s impact from his position. As they walked on, the Steelix was grinding his teeth and glaring at the Metagross.

When they arrived at the Fire Room, the window was completely obscured in steam. The humidity from the Pokemon inside blocked their view. Trey looked at Charmene, who smiled at him as only she could.

“I guess this is my stop,” she said cheerfully, and despite her nervousness, pushed open the door to the room and entered without looking back.

A wave of heat rolled over her as she entered the room. Terribly hot to a human, but quite refreshing to a fire Pokemon. And there fire Pokemon of all types, engaged in various exercises. In one corner of the room, a Blaziken sparred with a fierce-looking Magmar, exchanging punches and kicks. A Magby and a Torchic watched them intently, studying their movements with a rapt eye.

It seems that fire Pokemon are a lot more serious than Pokemon in the other rooms, Charmene mused. Slowly, feeling self-conscious, she wandered into the room, looking around. A Ninetails with a shiny coat of fur was practicing Will O’ Wisp, levitating blue flame in a slow circle around her head.

“Hey, look out!”

Something butted her sideways, taking her by surprise and knocking the wind out of her. A second later, a fiery cross impacted with the dirt where she had just been, dissolving into smoke. Charmene looked up to see a majestic Rapidash, her mane flaring, staring at her. She turned her back on the Charmander without even apologizing. Confused, Charmene looked to see her savior: a Numel.

“This must be your first time,” the Numel stated. “You have to be careful around here. My name’s Rico.”

“I’m Charmene. Isn’t that Rapidash going to apologize? She almost hit me!”

“She doesn’t owe you any apologies,” Rico said slowly, shaking his head. “Geez, you are new. In the Fire Room, there’s a strict hierarchy- might makes right. You earn your respect through battle. Only by overcoming your opponent, or vice versa, can you come to know him. Technically, I didn’t have to save you at all.”

“Okay,” Charmene said slowly, a bit confused. “So why did you do it, then? Aren’t I at the bottom of the food chain?” The Numel shrugged as best as he could.

“I’m pretty green myself. I guess you reminded me of how I was my first day here. Speaking of which…d’you want to spar? My first day, I remember this cocky Growlithe challenged me, and…” he trailed off, a bit embarrassed as he realized he was rambling.

“Sure, I’d like to try,” Charmene agreed. My first battle! Are they really as fun as I hear?

Battle!
L 7 Numel vs. L 5 Charmander

They assumed positions opposite each other, fairly close to the entrance. Intrigued, a lone Flareon paused to watch.

Proving to be quicker, Charmene darted forward, feinting left. The slow-witted Numel feel for the feint, angling his body to the left. Charmene took advantage of Rico’s position, leaping atop of him. Quickly, she whirled about and went to work with her claws, Scratching the back of his neck as hard as she could.

The Numel grunted in pain, and shook from side to side, trying to buck her off. Charmene dug her claws in and held on as best as she could, managing to stay on. There was a great RUMMBLE from directly below her. The next moment, Rico’s hump erupted, spewing super-heated Embers directly against her belly and sending her flying. She flipped twice in the air before landing on the ground in a heap in front of Rico.

“Oww…”Charmene groaned, rubbing her belly gingerly. If she wasn’t a Fire type, the move would have badly burned her. Glaring, she stood up, still stroking her stomach. “You’re not playing around, are you?”

Rico shrugged. “Might makes right,” he replied, before going into a slow, stumbling run towards her. As he approached her, Charmene growled angrily, her eyes slit. Something in her eyes caused Rico to slow, hesitating, and Charmene took the opportunity to roll out of the way. As the lumbering Numel passed by her, she swung her tail hard, hooking one of Rico’s back legs and tripping him up. Rico fell down hard and Charmene was on him again, Slashing viciously.

“Get OFF!” Rico cried, growing angry. He butted his head into Charmene’s tender belly, forcing her backwards, and got to his feet ponderously. He’s slowing down, Charmene thought, a predatory gleam in her eye. But before she could stage another attack, Rico lifted his head and unleashed a stream of flame at her. Surprised, Charmene barely evaded the attack, moving out of range.

“How do you know Flamethrower? That should be too advanced-”

“I’ll show you the benefits of my training!” Rico roared, spitting another ball of flame. Charmene was forced backwards, ducking and dodging. Rico was relentless, herding her into a corner with careful spurts of flame, and never allowing her an opening. Charmene flinched when her tail touched cold metal. Nowhere to run.

“I’ve got you now,” Rico taunted. Charmene studied him. The Numel was sweating, his breathing labored. There was no way to dodge, and her opening was now. Charmene took a deep breath.

“SUICIDE CHARGE!”

“What kind of attack is- oh my,” Rico breathed, as the Charmander raced towards him, claws extended and eyes glaring. Slowly, the magma in his hump rolled, combusted, turning into a mix of heated air and smoke. Too slow. As the flame poured out of his mouth in a rush, Rico caught the full force of Charmene’s jaw under his chin, forcing his head upwards. The Flamethrower flew harmlessly into the ceiling.

“Gah..jeh…” the Numel muttered, the pain catching up to him. Rico swayed, unsteady, then collapsed, lying on his side.

“I did it,” Charmene said numbly, falling on her rear in shock. She had been frightened- but it seemed as if she had won her first battle despite the odds. And without her trainer, no less! She smiled, feeling perfectly content despite her bruises and pains. What could be better than sheer satisfaction? What was more…

Charmene stood and headed for the exit, her tail bobbing behind her slowly. As the tip moved from side to side, a few tongues of excess flame were released, smoldering in tiny embers on the ground. Seeing Rico’s Ember in action had given her an idea of how to mimic the move herself.

Battle End!
Charmene grew to L 6!

--Poison Room

The Poison Room was definitely not the kind of place you wanted to stumble into without paying attention. For starters, the room was filled with noxious gases, the obvious effect of having so many Poison pokemon in one place. As opposed to several other of the rooms he had seen, Troit noted that many Pokemon seemed to be relaxing, not training.

A large Muk, his huge bulk seeming to fill the entire room, looked at him with a calculating eye despite his appearance. Troit approached him slowly when he beckoned with a sludgy finger.

“Yer new, ain’t ya? I don’t remember yer face, a’ course yer new. There’s only so many Grimers in Ulthuan, and I know yer new.” The Muk spoke quickly despite his dull-looking appearance, and it was a little hard for Troit to keep up.

“Yes, that’s right…I’m new-”

“Course ya are!” the Muk interrupted. He extended a dripping hand by way of welcome, and Troit took it, feeling a little nervous. “Name’s Reed. I’m the big boss aroun’ here.”

“Big…boss?”

“That’s righ’, kid, and don’t ya ferget it. So what’re ya here fer? Training? A battle?”

“Well, actually, I was just looking around-”

“A’ course you wanna battle, that’s what all the kids wanna do.” Ignoring Troit’s protest, Reed’s great mass shifted to the left, looking towards a large Beedrill. “Oy, Rizz!C’mere!”

“Rizz” had been avoiding the acidic spitting of an Arbok, dipping and diving around the large snake. At Reed’s call, the two battlers stopped, and the Beedrill flew over to them. “What’zz up, Big Boss?”

“It’s really not necessary…”Troit stammered, trying to take control. Both Pokemon ignored him.

“Kid wants a battle. Make it a good one, eh, Rizz?” Reed said, jerking a finger at Troit. “No restrictions, and give im’ a workout.”

“No prob, Boss.”

Troit was still wondering how he got into such a mess, as the larger Muk gave him a hard shove, pushing him forward. The Beedrill landed long enough to touch both of his stingers together (in a show of respect) before taking to the air again.

Battle!
L 7 Grimer vs. L 7 Beedrill

“I won’t take it eeezz on you juzt becauszz you know the Boss,” Rizz promised, circling the Grimer like a hungry shark. Troit slapped one gooey hand against his forehead, growing frustrated.

“I just met that guy a few minutes ago! I haven’t even been in here for a full half hour yet!” Around and around the Beedrill buzzed, and he was beginning to get dizzy. It looked like the only way to get anywhere was to fight, because it was obvious that no one was listening to anything he said. Resigned, Troit made a throwing motion with an arm, launching a glob of Sludge at the Beedrill.

Rizz dived, the blob of poison sailing over him, and zipped forward, stabbing his stingers into Troit’s poisonous form multiple times. Had Troit’s body been made up of flesh instead of amorphous goo, it would have had more of an effect, but he still had to make an effort to reform his body.

With Rizz that close, Troit had an opportunity. He swung his fist at the bee’s sensitive compound eyes, but Rizz was much too quick, pulling away and darting back into the air. Troit groaned, glaring up at the Beedrill. How was he supposed to hit such a speedy opponent?

“Get defenisive, kid!” Reed advised from the sidelines. “You’ll never hit ‘im less you can slow ‘im down!”

“Sounds good,” Troit muttered as he tried to peg the speedy Beedrill with another Sludge. “But how do I do that?”

Rizz flew overhead, evading yet another Sludge ball, and took careful aim. The large stinger on his abdomen bulged, then tensed, before being pushed out into the air and directly at him. The stinger was replaced by a smaller, slightly wet stinger, which was fired the same way. The Pin Missiles plunged into his body, causing Troit a great deal of pain more than Rizz’s previous attack.

If only I was a smaller target.. Troit thought, as he forcibly removed the stingers from his body. They came out slowly, yet painfully. He was a sitting duck, and he would lose unless… That’s it!

Troit concentrated, expelling poisonous goo from his body at an accelerated rate. The ‘sweat’ poured off of him, settling in small puddles on the floor. When Rizz next swooped in for an attack, Troit found it easier to move, liberated of the extra pounds.

“You may be quicker,” Rizz panted, hovering above him, “but you zztill can’t touch me.”

To prove his point, Rizz dived once more, slashing at Troit’s body on the pass. The Grimer winced as the blow took out a sizable chunk of his body. He’s right! My attacks are too slow! The only time he slows down is when he hits me…

That was when inspiration struck. Just like before, Troit lobbed a large ball of Sludge. Rizz chuckled, once more dodging the projectile with ease, and sped up, hoping to end the battle with a final hard stab.

SPLURTZ! SHUNK.

Rizz had plunged his stingers so deep into Troit that the tips almost poked through the other side of his body. Poison dripped from the tips, settling on the floor and joining the smaller puddles. Satisfied, Rizz tried to pull away but found he could not. In horror, he glanced at his two stingers.

His weapons were trapped in a thick, cemented form of poison: Troit had Hardened a minute too late, and trapped the Beedrill there. Wincing, Troit couldn’t help but grin.

“Gotcha.”

What happened next was quick. Unable to move, Rizz was held helpless as Troit pummeled him with a combination of Pounds and Shadow Punches. Rizz fell to the ground, unconscious and bruised.

Battle End!
Troit grew to L 8!
Troit learned Disable!

“Not bad, kid!” Reed congratulated gruffly, as the wheezing (no pun intended) Troit moved off of the field. “Not too many Pokes could a’ taken so much abuse from Rizz… a’ course, I could’ve, but that’s another story… Why don’t ya stay awhile? I could introduce ya to the other guys…”

“Thanks, but…I really should get going,” Troit said firmly, sliding out of the Muk’s grasp. “Find my trainer-”

“Righ,’ righ,’ I know how it is!” Reed cried, winking at him. “Come back anytime- yer always welcome!”

Glad to be free of the Muk’s hold, Troit left the room as quickly as possible. He felt woozy, disoriented, and sore from being used as a pincushion…but he also felt quite proud of himself. His first battle- on his own, no less! And though he wouldn’t go so far as to describe it as fun, he couldn’t deny that there something appealing to it for him.