Show-Off: Chapter 35 posted 22/11

[Chris 2.1]

Hey guys, I'm alive x_x

Uni is a bit hectic, and I haven't been able to write much, but I will try and get Ch16 up soon. In the mean time, if any of you have seen the latest chapter do let me know what you think!

Ch16 and 17 are a great kickstart to the next arc in the fic. It's very exciting! I'll give you a clue about the storyline. *nt*-r*cl**s*f*c*at***

:-/

[PancaKe]

I don't get it. Aw


In other words I got excited when I saw you posted cos I thought it might be another chatper !

[Chris 2.1]

Hey guys. I'm posting this earlier than normal (still writing the follow-up chapter) for a few reasons. A) You're patient and awesome. B) It's still a bit of a bridge towards the upcoming arc so I want you to see it as soon as possible. C) I've been brainstorming for the next few chaps so much it's making my head hurt so I need to get this up ASAP.


Previously:
-Milo and Jake began living on the road
-Milo caught a Magnemite
-Milo bought a Ditto for Jake
-The boys hit the road to Azalea Town, meeting a travelling family along the way.

Show-Off
-XVI-
Sidecar

The leaves were turning golden brown in Ecruteak City. With cool winds swirling across the calm, sleepy city, there was an odd emptiness among the streets. Sisters-turned-superstars The Eevee Sisters had began their journey to be famous entertainers and left the city behind, their theatre now lifeless. Morty stood before the impressive Tin Tower, his hat in his hands. Feeling the wind ruffle his thick hair was comforting.

Closing his eyes, he began concentrating hard. Gengar materialised at his side, causing Morty to open one eye.

“Any luck?” he asked.

Gengar shook his head.

“Karen is avoiding me,” Morty said. “I need to speak to her.”

Gengar shrugged.

“You can phase through solid surfaces,” Morty grumbled. “How can you not find her?”

Narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, Gengar stared at his trainer. Morty was indifferent, turning back to the huge tower and staring at the ornate carvings going higher and higher up the side. After a few moments of silence, Gengar melted into the atmosphere again, disappearing from the wooded area. Morty turned as his purple companion left him, clicking his tongue.

“I can tell you where Karen is,” came a voice. Morty turned around to see a man addressing him. He was nearing fifty, wearing a sharp pinstripe suit with short, jet black hair.

“Who are you?” Morty asked.

“Michael Mitchelson,” he replied smoothly.

“Milo’s father?” said Morty.

“Correct,” Michael replied.

“What are you doing here?” Morty asked. “You are not allowed in this area. It is sacred.”

“My company helped fund the renovation of the theatre, among other things,” Michael said. “Veronica Grimm awarded me a key to the city, a key which allows me here whenever I please.”

“Is that so,” Morty mused.

“I’m an influential man, Mortimer,” Michael explained. “Milo always spoke very highly of you.”

“Oh?” Morty said, looking surprised. “How is Milo?”

“Wiser, I’m hoping,” Michael said quietly.

“And…you said you knew where Karen is?” Morty asked.

“I do,” Michael replied. “Why do you need to find her?”

“We need to talk,” Morty muttered.

“I do hope there were no hard feelings over Karen taking over the Gym,” Michael said.

“No, no, I’m happy,” Morty said distractedly. “It’s not about owning the gym or anything. We’ve just been made aware of…a change in the air.”

“The leaves take a whole season to fully change colour,” Michael noted, staring at the trees. “I’m sure you can wait until Karen returns.”

“Returns?” Morty asked. “Where is she?”

Michael ignored the question.

“I suggest you come with me to Goldenrod City,” he said.

“For what?” Morty asked.

“Answers,” Michael said raptly. “And purpose.”

“I have a purpose,” Morty replied.

“You might have a nightclub beneath the Burnt Tower,” Michael said, shocking Morty at his knowledge of the building. “But what do you do? Watch others enjoy themselves beneath a heavy drink. Your girlfriend has left the city to become a star…so what do you do with yourself?”

Morty instinctively rolled his sleeves down to his wrists, but knew that in doing so, he had given Michael far too much ammunition.

“Using again, are we?” Michael said, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s not your concern,” Morty snapped.

“I don’t want you pumping poison into your body, Mortimer,” Michael said defiantly.

“Why?” Morty asked.

“Because you have work to do,” Michael replied. Morty stared at the imposing man, standing in the middle of the autumn afternoon. His eyes drifted across the quiet skies, the silent city, and he wondered if he could seek redemption somewhere else. Michael grinned.

*

“How did you sleep?” Jake asked Milo that morning. They were eating leftover stew at the charred remnants of the fire from last night, Milo staring at the ground glumly.

“I had this dream…” Milo murmured. “Someone bursting into flame.”

“I had a dream I was in a musical,” Jake said absently. Sherman and Billy had gone for a walk in the woods to start their day, while Barbara and Sally were folding the camping equipment away.

“That isn’t ominous,” Milo said. “Fire is ominous.”

“Musicals can be ominous,” Jake pointed out. “Les Miserables?”

“I don’t know who that is, but they sound stupid,” Milo said.

“Stop being so misunderstood,” Jake said.

Ditto was out of his Pokeball and morphed into a Machop; using his strong muscles he effortlessly packed the tent away, folding it up and tucking it into the rucksack with ease. Jake smiled as his Pokemon worked away; they had seen a Machop earlier in the day, belonging to a passing trainer, and the fact that Ditto was able to retain its form long after the Machop had left was a sign that Ditto was getting much stronger.

“The suitcases are packed up,” Jake told Milo, who stared into the charred ash of the fire with a miserable look on his face. “We can just go whenever.”

“Well boys it was lovely meeting you both!” Barbara cried excitedly. “We’re just so excited for you, going off to Azalea town! Don’t we wish we could join them, Sally?”

“My clothes smell of vodka,” Sally moaned.

“Kids! Oh they say the funniest things,” Barbara chuckled, hiccupping. “Oh look, Sherman and Billy are back!”

“Top of the morning’ boys!” Sherman called as he walked through the clearing. Milo grumbled an inaudible utterance as Jake gave them a hearty welcome.

“We saw a Stantantler!” Billy said.

“It’s called Stantler,” Milo snapped.

“Stant-tantler!” Billy said. “Yay!”

“We’re sure gonna miss you when we head to the big city!” Sherman said, patting Milo on the back.

“Feelings mutual,” Milo said.

“Milo’s right, we’ll miss you guys, too!” Jake said. His Ditto was reluctant to morph back from a Machop, and when Jake approached him kindly, the DNA Pokemon got him in a sleeper hold and hurled him to the ground.

“Boys, I have a swell idea,” Sherman said, bending down to pull something out from his tent. “Just…something to remember us by when you head on to Azalea.”

He pulled out his guitar, scribbling something on the front in marker pen. Jake looked from beneath his Ditto’s strong grip and even Milo looked up from staring into his stew. It got passed around the family before Barbara handed the guitar to Milo.

“You guys rock…love Billy,” Milo read.

“How sweet!” Jake said.

“I’ll always remember the sad story you made up about the imaginary Graveller - Sally,” Milo said. “Hey, Sal, that was totally re-”

“HEY!” Jake shouted, interrupting Milo. “Sing a song a day - Sherman. I’ll totally do that!”

“You should!” Sherman beamed.

“I will!” Jake said.

“You should!”

“I will!”

“You should!”

“I will!”

“You shou-”

“HE WILL!” Milo snapped.

“And what did you write, Bar?” Jake said, getting up from the floor and examining the guitar. “Wine - wine-not? Oh how funny!”

“Red or white, the joke still works,” Barbara said cleverly, smacking her lips.

“We’ll miss you guys so much,” Jake said, hugging the kids. Ditto had morphed back into its pink, squishy form and was bouncing around the clearing. Milo slung the guitar on his shoulder and heaved his bags up.

“Take care boys, do keep in touch!” Sherman said, patting Milo on the back.

“Later,” Milo said, making his way through the forest.

He set off at a comfortable pace as Sherman led the kids into a roaring sing-a-long. With each note, Milo increased his pace, and soon the voices trailed away on the wind and he walked with Jake towards Azalea town.

“Why are you being such an ass?” Jake hissed.

“I’m not,” Milo mumbled.

“You are! You’re being a total ass!” he cried.

“Maybe I don’t feel like being cheery?” Milo snapped. “Is that a problem?”

“Yes!” Jake yelled.

“I fucking stink. I have no money. All my clothes are getting dirty and ruined, and I’ve just been in the company of the weirdest bunch of idiots ever,” Milo moaned.

“I can’t even be bothered arguing with you,” Jake said. “You sound like a spoilt child.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” Milo admitted. “It’s not nice, but it’s true. I’m a spoilt kid being weaned off money and I can’t get my head around it. That was the worst sleep I’ve ever had.”

“Well we probably have one more night camping before we get to Azalea,” Jake said. “If we can get to Ilex forest today, and get through there quickly, we’ll camp on the outskirts and head to Azalea tomorrow morning.”

“Sorry I’m an ass,” Milo said quietly.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake said, smirking. They walked along the quiet, roughed dirt track. Milo felt sheepish, especially since Jake was being so nice.

“Why is that?” Milo asked.

“Huh?”

“Why are you still here?” Milo said. “I don’t get it. Even if you only came with me because I was loaded, well that’s gone now.”

“It’s a good laugh,” Jake admitted.

“We smell!” Milo cried incredulously. “That stew has possibly given me tapeworms! My back aches from this huge fuckoff rucksack…what is a laugh?”

“So you think when you had money you had no problems?” Jake asked. Milo nodded instantly but regretted it; Jake’s face lit up as he reeled off his obviously pre-prepared speech.

“First of all, you took a snapshot of Molly doing a line of cocaine. She turned her sisters against you and they attacked us in Ecruteak City. You had your phone stolen by Morty, who hid out in the National Park…then, upon arriving in Goldenrod City, you’ve found out your ex-girlfriend is dating a woman -”

“I get it -

“What I’m trying to say,” Jake continued. “And by the way there is loads more where that came from - is that you’ve had to deal with problems, tribulations, issues, whatever you want to call them, and none of what’s going on in your life is because of your funds! Your money didn’t solve any of your other problems, did it?”

“Not…directly,” Milo muttered. He was flushing red slightly, concentrating on a nearby rock. It somewhat resembled a lemon.

“Not directly?” Jake asked.

“Fine, fine! Fucking fine. None of my problems are about money,” Milo grumbled.

“We’ve come a long way,” Jake sighed happily. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet?”

“If you try and make me wear some stupid glittery shoes I’ll drink so much that I forget this irritating life lesson,” Milo said.

“Noted,” Jake replied.

*

They walked on that morning, noticing the air get slightly warmer as they approached midday. A flock of Spearow flew in the skies ahead towards the dark, looming Ilex Forest. The road dipped as they got closer to the woods; it was easy on Milo’s tired, throbbing legs.

It did not walk for long before they got to the route gate. Milo looked at the slightly worn down building, not glamorous like the others he had seen. There was probably not any spare beds here, or any useful facilities. Inside the route gate, they were met by a man standing behind a counter. There were a few tables and chairs, as well as a vending machine, but it looked very grim inside. The man, a bespectacled, nosy looking man, was eyeing them curiously.

“Welcome to the route gate!” he cried.

“Hi,” Jake said

“I am Norman, the Forest Ranger,” he said proudly. “I am in charge of the route gate. Have you got any questions about the forest?”

“How long will it take to get through?” Milo asked.

“That all depends,” Norman replied.

“Oh,” Milo said.

“Are you going to elaborate?” Jake asked.

“I can,” the ranger said. “Most people can get through quite quickly. There are a number of routes through the heart of the forest, and if you can get on the quickest one, you could get to Azalea by tonight.”

“Is it clearly signposted?”

“I don’t know, I rarely go into the forest itself,” Norman said.

“That’s useful,” Jake said sarcastically.

“I’m pleased you’re grasping sarcasm,” Milo said to his friend. “You’ve come a long way.”

“To be honest, after last week, you’re the first people that have come into the forest,” the ranger noticed.

“Really?” Milo asked. “What happened last week?”

“Some…suspicious people came through. They smelled awful,” Norman noted.

“Hey,” Jake said, from across the room. “Your vending machine is out of order!”

“I know,” Norman said, as if Jake was stupid. “Duuuh. People still say that, right?”

“Some people,” Milo mused.

“The machine ate my coins!” Jake snapped. “Damnit.”

“We’ll sort you out,” Milo said. He looked at his team, all still out of their Pokeballs. Totodile ran along towards Jake and head butted the vending machine furiously; coins clattered out of the coin tray, much more than Jake had put in.

“Yay!“ Jake squealed. “You rock,”

He nuzzled Totodile. The energetic alligator smiled at the attention lavished on him, crooning softly. There was a brief glint in his eye; in a flash he chomped down on Jake’s sleeve; Jake gave a scream and flapped his arm wildly, but Totodile had clamped on firm.

“Totodile!” Milo said hotly. He had only bitten through the sleeve of Jake’s top, luckily, but he was clenching tightly and sending icy crystals across Jake’s arm. “GET OFF!”

Totodile’s eye turned to Milo, and he did nothing.

“Medicham get Totodile off Jake,” Milo said firmly. Medicham nodded and held her hand out; she prised the alligator’s jaw’s apart and slowly lifted him away from Jake, who was in tears as his favourite top began crumbling off his body in icy chunks.

“I don’t like you anymore,” Jake muttered.

Totodile, who was now on the ground, looked indifferent, turning to the vending machine and spinning around to unleash a slash attack on the front. He span again, slashing it but leaving no mark. Milo got his polo shirt out his bag and tossed it to Jake.

“Should fit you fine,” he said.

“Thanks,” Jake muttered, chucking the ruined top he wore into the bin.

“Sorry,” Milo said to his friend, who looked on the verge of breaking down.

“I was kind of scared,” Jake admitted. “Totodile’s not really that cute anymore, you know?”

“He’s just reaching that phase,” Milo muttered. “I hope he passes through it okay. I don’t want him evolving if he just bites all the time.”

“May I offer some advice?” Norman said.

“No, fuck off,” Milo snapped.

“I will have you know,” Norman said bossily. “I am the winner of the customer services award six times in a row!”

“YOU’RE THE ONLY PERSON WHO WORKS HERE YOU IDIOT!” Milo screamed.

“How blunt,” Norman muttered.

“Totodile,” Milo said. His Pokemon was spinning around and practicing his slash attack on the vending machine. “Hey. Totodile.”

And still, he did not turn around.

“I’m talking to you!” Milo snapped, just as Totodile’s claws began glowing with a feverish energy. They shimmered with a silvery glow and Totodile’s arms span around even quicker; in a metallic blur, he devastated the vending machine and left thick scraps of metal littering the ground.

"Hey! That was expensive!" Norman cried.

"Lucky for you nobody comes through here," Milo replied.

"Sometimes I like a Cherry Coke," the ranger admitted quietly.

“He just learned metal claw,” Jake said, impressed.

“I don’t care if he learned how to play the piano,” Milo said. “Totodile! Listen to me!”

Totodile turned around.

“You need to start listening. You’re getting cocky and I do not like it. Start showing me and Jake some respect.”

And, to reiterate his point, Milo recalled Totodile into his Pokeball, letting him muse on his last words. Magnemite sped over to the electrical socket which the vending machine was plugged into and pressed against the cable, sending volts rushing into his body. He gave an odd groaning noise as he throbbed with energy.

“Your other Pokemon listen fine,” Jake said.

“Magnemite is still young,” Milo said. “Scyther…well, he was so close to being burnt by Flygon, I think he respects me out of fear.”

He looked at his mantis, who was standing by Norman threateningly, looking around for any possible security breaches. Norman looked petrified.

“Maybe you should get one of your old team members to speak with Totodile,” Jake said. “Set the ground rules.”

“I might,” Milo said. He looked across at Norman. “Is the forest pretty thick?”

“It’s easy enough to navigate,” Norman explained, looking across at the still Scyther. “There’s a family from Azalea who own a charcoal business, so they sometimes cut down the thicker trees to make new ways of getting through.”

“I have an idea,” Milo said. “Jake, get Ditto to transform into Scyther.”

Milo recalled Magnemite and Medicham, while Jake recalled Wingull. Paras scuttled onto his shoulder as Ditto’s squishy, pink form shot up; intricate blades formed from thick rubbery appendages, and thin, delicate wings emerged out the back. In no time, a slightly smaller Scyther was standing by Jake’s side.

“This could prove handy in navigating the forest,” Milo said. “Come on Scyther!”

Scyther got up from the counter, leaving Norman looking very relieved. Milo led the way through the exit of the route gate, with two Scyther’s and a Paras accompanying them.

“Tell everyone about me!“ Norman yelled, as they went.

Instantly they found themselves in a very cool, wooded area. They had entered Ilex Forest. Milo stared around at the thick trees blocking most of the light out from the area; it was very dark. A few chirps from Pokemon in the trees filled the otherwise silent air.

“Okay,” Milo said, looking at a sign. It was a big wooden board with different coloured routes illustrated leading through the woods. The Great Route was blue and looked the most straightforward. The Ultra route was yellow and seemed to go more into the areas where rare Pokemon could be found, while the purple Master Route seemed to span the darker, most dangerous parts of the woods. Glossy images of native Pokemon were adorned around the large map, showing that Spinarak, Ariados and even Ekans could be found here.

“Let’s keep it simple, yes?” Jake said, jabbing the Great route with his finger.

“Easy,” Milo said, as they walked on through the woods.

Some of the trees were painted with the colour corresponding to the route, so that were you to get lost, you could easily see were you were. As they walked, he had never thought about just how liberating it must feel to be a Ditto. Long confined to a pink, squishy body, the DNA Pokemon, after copying Scyther’s form, was flying around the woods like a possessed rocket, screeching to the skies and slashing blades of energy into the trees.

“He’ll be very disappointed to morph back,” Jake mused. “It was hard enough when he turned into Machop. He loved being able to lift heavy things.”

“In the Goldenrod Contest, that little girl’s Ditto got very hostile once it turned into a powerful Lairon,” Milo recalled. “Take things easy with Ditto. Don’t let it get carried away.”

His own Scyther flew through the woods back to them, a dead Rattata in its mouth. Milo looked slightly disgusted as blood dripped onto Scyther’s blades, but his Pokemon clearly relished in the rare treat, usually eating fruit and nuts.

While Ditto-Scyther relished in slashing down trees, cutting grass and terrorising insects, Milo’s Scyther seemed more mature. He was patrolling the area, making sure there were no dangers ahead. Medicham, Totodile and Magnemite all rested.

“So, any thoughts on the next contest?” Jake asked curiously.

“Not really,” Milo said. “The last week or so has been a mixture of angst and diarrhoea.”

“Touché,” Jake muttered.

“I wanna do something with Magnemite to appeal…I thought about Totodile, but he’s just a bit loose at the moment. He’s getting too big for his boots. I guess Magnemite could appeal and Scyther can battle.”

“Medicham ok?” Jake asked.

“Her telekinesis has been a bit off, actually,” Milo mused. “Ever since we fought Alakazam at the office.”

Milo had spent a lot of time deep in thought about this. Medicham seemed to be a lot weaker mentally since the brutal fight. She had truly pushed her abilities to the limit, fighting resolutely against the PSI Solider, Kazaar. After the match, and the subsequent emotional rollercoaster, Medicham seemed unable to tap into her real potential. Perhaps she was suffering migraines, impeding her concentration. Maybe seeing William’s only other Pokemon triggered unsettling memories for her. Either way, she wasn’t good.

“She just needs time,” Jake said.

“I suppose so,” Milo said. “Between her seeming a bit low, and Totodile acting out, I can only rely on Scyther and Magnemite at the moment.”

“Totodile needs brought into line, you can get Golduck or Kingler to reinforce that,” Jake suggested.

“Once we get to Azalea,” Milo said. “I think I’ll do just that.”

As they walked, Jake looked excited at the signs warning that Butterfree inhabited the area. Despite Milo pointing out that Butterfree were known to release deadly spores as a defence mechanism, Jake kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the large creatures.

“I know you think they’re pretty -”

“Shut up!” Jake hissed.

“Oh,” Milo muttered, somewhat shocked. “Okay…”

Jake looked in excitement as a chubby Caterpie crawled up a tree trunk. The hairdresser turned to Milo and beamed; Milo returned it half-heartedly, more concerned with the shooting pain in his arm from dragging his suitcase through the woods.

Jake released Paras, who was practicing his cutting by slashing apart clumps of grass. Milo seemed curious to watch Jake catch a new Pokemon, and smirked as Jake held a glittery Pokeball (the same as the one Totodile was captured in) and walked along quietly.

Milo thought he looked like a thief, the way he delicately crept along the grass. Paras mimicked his trainer, trying to creep along, but not being as graceful. Milo’s Scyther stopped Ditto-Scyther from screeching to the skies. Caterpie was nibbling on a leaf.

“Go on!” Milo hissed. Jake nodded.

“Paras,” he said. “Bullet seed.”

Opening his mouth, Paras spat a flurry of sharp, swift seeds through the air. They peppered the fleshy Caterpie and hurled it from the branch; it collapsed in a heap and let out a particularly unhappy cry. Getting to its feet, the Caterpie stared at Paras coldly.

“It looks mad,” Milo said, smirking.

“Paras, go for a slash!” Jake cried. Paras leapt through the air, but Caterpie spat a thick jet of silk. Paras rolled out of the way to avoid it, only to become victim to a rolling tackle from the green bug.

“Come on Jake, it’s a fucking Caterpie,” Milo moaned. Paras leapt again, raking his pincers across Caterpie’s body and throwing it back.

“Now, go for a stun spore!” Jake said. Pinning the Caterpie down, Paras shook and unleashed a thick cloud of yellow spores. Caterpie began breathing them in and let out a shrill cry, but Paras was relentless, shaking his behind frantically. Once Caterpie was rendered immobile, Paras leapt back to Jake’s side.

“That was amazing!” Jake said happily. Paras jumped up and down happily, Jake fiddling with the Pokeball and readied himself to catch the bug. Suddenly, a huge shriek filled the skies; a Spearow flew down through the air and grabbed the Caterpie in its mouth.

“CATERPIE!” Jake screamed. “Paras…”

Paras looked at him expectantly.

“You can’t fly,” Jake realised. He got a Pokeball off his belt. “Wingull! Give chase!”

“Erm, Jake?” Milo said, pointing to the trees. Spearow was tearing strips out of Caterpie’s stomach and guzzling down on the insides. “I think Caterpie’s gone to a better place.”

“Fucking stupid bird,” Jake said coldly. Milo turned to lead the group on through the woods, where they found the path winding down a steep ridge. Seeing a full, roaring river crash among thick rocks below, Milo felt his headache worsen. Scyther walked ahead, Ditto-Scyther doing likewise, following the real mantis in the way a younger puppy may follow an adult. Jake had Paras on his shoulder. It looked particularly uncomfortable for both.

“Is your head starting to hurt?” Milo asked, finding the sharp pain was beginning to rear its head.

“A little bit,” Jake admitted. “Paras, can you release some spores to sooth our headaches?”

Paras nodded, wiggling and sending out some of the invigorating, peppermint-style clouds. Milo took a deep breath and smiled, feeling somewhat calm. Jake also looked a bit more light-hearted after his desired Pokemon was gulped down by a ravenous bird.

The path was very steep; the two had to walk slowly as it wound further down. In the big, wide river that crashed through the forest they could see Magikarp leaping out and splashing back into the water. The sound of the river was very loud; Milo saw a Raticate washing its whiskers by the waters edge, before scurrying off into the woods.

“Let’s fill our water bottles up,” Milo said.

“Eeew, river water,” Jake said.

“Be brave,” Milo told his friend, scooping up water in his flask.

“Mkay,” Jake muttered, doing likewise. They sat down on the flatter rocks in the area and took a drink, taking in the vast forest around them.

Suddenly, Milo saw a figure on the opposite side of the bank. Someone was moving amongst the bushes, rustling. As Jake recalled his Ditto-Scyther into its Pokeball, Milo saw the person emerge from the overgrowth; dressed in camouflage, with a dirt-smeared face, she looked oddly familiar.

“Do you recognise that woman?” Milo asked.

“Her across the river?” Jake asked. “She looks familiar…”

“I recognise her,” Milo said firmly.

“I know!” Jake said. “It’s the woman from MooMoo farm! The co-owner!”

“Oh my god, it is!” Milo said, standing up. “HEY! JANICE!”

She saw them, shocked, and turned to run through the woods. Milo looked at the roaring water and knew he needed to cross it. Scyther was giving him a look suggesting that he would certainly not carry him over the water. Desperate, Milo turned to Medicham.

“Can you take me to the other side of the river?” he asked softly. Medicham opened one eye, saw the woman running across the other side of the bank and sighed, getting up and dusting her knees. She gripped Milo’s arm (rather tightly, he thought) and in a quick pop, they were gone. Jake looked across to the other side of the river to see them re-appear, but they did not. Looking all across the bank, Jake was curious why Medicham had not re-appeared with Milo.

“Have you seen them?” Jake asked Scyther. He shook his head. “Hmm.”

Jake got Ditto’s Pokeball out and hurled it into the air. It burst open and revealed the pink, squishy Pokemon, who gave a giggle at seeing his trainer.

“Ditto, can you transform into an Onix?” Jake asked. Ditto shrugged, apparently unsure what one of those was. Seeing a huge tree up ahead, Jake had a better idea. “Okay! Turn into that tree.”

Glowing, Ditto turned white and shot up into the air, forming branches, fine, needle-like pins and a rough exterior. Jake looked impressed at the huge tree that had formed on the side of the river; it wobbled precariously before falling across the width of the river and granting Jake access to the other side. Jake eagerly ran across the trunk, hearing Ditto let out a long, sonorous moan as his feet pressed into the bark, with Scyther assisting him as he crossed.

“This is so fun!” Jake cried. He got to the other side of the river in no time and leapt off, turning to the huge tree. “Transform back!”

Glowing white, Ditto was thrown back into a small, blob-like form on the bank. Jake hugged him tightly and thanked him for his help, running through the overgrowth after Janice.

*

Appearing in a darker area of the forest, Milo fell to his knees and looked around. Medicham was by his side looking thoroughly confused. The trees were taller here, closing in and blocking out the sky. It was very quiet.

“Where are we?” Milo said, the lack of any water rushing across the rocks suggesting they were a long way from Jake. Medicham looked around, bewildered at what she had done. “Think we’re still in the forest?”

Many of the berries growing in the woods looked similar to those they had seen earlier, and the trees seemed of a similar species. Milo believed that they were indeed in the Ilex Forest, but simply further away from Jake.

“Don’t sweat it,” he said to Medicham, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked so sad, so miserable, turning away from her trainer’s gaze. Milo saw her lip turned. She let out a sigh.

“I know you’ve been mentally exhausted since the battle with Kazaar,” Milo said. “And I know that despite what’s going on in your head, I have used your telekinesis to better aid Jake and I. But I won’t do that anymore, because you’re really not well, and I want to help you mend.”

Medicham gave a bleak nod.

“Should we just walk on through the woods?” Milo asked, noticing the path get lighter up ahead. He got no response from his friend, so took that as a yes. Medicham wandered alongside Milo, who enjoyed the sound of his trainers crunching against crisp leaves.

“I have no idea why that Janice woman was in the middle of the woods,” Milo said. “Or at least…I think it was Janice. She was dressed like those hippies.”

Maybe his eyes had deceived him. Either way, those nature-loving free spirited individuals were apparently roaming the forest, and Milo did not like it one bit. Medicham stopped in her tracks; Milo felt a searing pain in his temple and screwed his eyes shut.

“What is it?” he asked her.

Medicham was staring ahead, lost in the vastness of the thick forest, eyes flicking from left to right. Milo thought she looked as if she was sensing something, but his headache was preventing him from intervening. Sharp pangs moaning in his head…it was very painful.

Milo looked as he saw Medicham leap into the overgrowth, tackling something which let out a long cry. He saw rustling, before Medicham was hurtled out of the bushes and onto the path. Leaping onto the path after her was a Stantler, who raised its front hooves and gave off a cry.

“Medicham rolling kick!” Milo ordered. Tucking in and rolling out of Stantler’s path, Medicham avoided the creature’s hooves as they came thundering down into the earth. Medicham swung her leg and kicked Stantler in the side. As he staggered back, Medicham caused sparks to burst along her palms, wriggling along her fingers as she formed a fist. Stantler looked at her, narrowing its eyes. The black orbs within its antlers glowed softly.

“Stantler?” Milo muttered. Medicham concentrated hard and swung her fist into the creature’s face. Stantler gave another loud cry as its muscles contorted with pain; Medicham flexed her fingers and beckoned Stantler to attack.

Milo looked into the dark orbs of the Stantler and suddenly felt a strong, violent unease in the pit of his stomach. Turning from the fight, Milo felt himself vomit in the bushes; he groaned as the thick bile stirred between his teeth, soaking his tongue and dripping from his lips. Medicham leapt out of the way as Stantler charged, holding her hands forward and unleashing a focus blast to strike the Pokemon in the side.

“It’s Stantler,” Milo murmured. “Giving me headaches.”

Medicham sensed something and concentrated hard. She managed to use an intense psychic attack on something in the vicinity; giving a yelp, a previously hidden figure stumbled into view. Milo looked at the distressed blazer, the rugged boots and the torn jeans.

“I recognize you,” he said. “From MooMoo farm!”

“Holy fuck,” the man said, gathering his ginger hair into a bushy ponytail. “It’s the boy that got away.”

Stantler was weak; it knelt by the man’s side and stared sadly at the ground. Milo wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Milo asked. “I’ve been feeling nauseous all day!”

“We have business here,” he said. “How did you get this deep into the woods, anyway?”

“Because I’m great,” Milo replied. He didn’t like to admit it was due to accidental teleportation.

“The Stantler are emitting their hypnotic waves,” the man said. “Making people sick. Keeping them away. It won’t work on us, though. Cannabis counteracts the drug that Stantler produce.”

Milo could now see how out of focus (and large) the hippie’s eyes were.

“Medicham karate chop the messy fucker,” he hissed. Medicham leapt at the hippie and cracked her hand across the back of his neck; the man collapsed instantly, crumpling to the ground. Stantler looked shocked and bounded away into the vast overgrowth, leaving Milo to check the man for any important items on him.

“I thought he might at least have a radio,” Milo mused. He found a map of the forest, which could have been picked up from the Route Gate, and a sheet of tracing paper with a grid drawn onto it. Placing the tracing paper over the map, Milo could see that names scribbled onto the paper showed where various members of the Friends of Pokemon were patrolling; some had arrows drawn around a specific perimeter.

“By the looks of things, they’re spread out so that the Stantler’s mojo powers spread out across the entire forest,” Milo said. “If the hippies crossed paths with each other…they’d probably trip out.”

He paused.

“They’d probably get a kick out of that,” he mused.

He saw an area with an X marked on it. It was in the bottom-left quadrant of the forest, near to the Azalea Route Gate but still quite isolated. A lot more people were patrolling the area.

“I wonder if we can make our way over there,” Milo said. “We’re kinda going that way anyway…from the looks of things, Jake is a long way away from us - you can see the river there, look - we’ll have to try and find him later.”

Medicham nodded.

“Come on,” Milo said, looking at the map. “Let’s kick the shit out of some hippies.”

*

Back in Goldenrod City, Jasmine walked purposefully through the dark streets. She was on her way to the Lucky Carp Casino to meet with the organisation, though it was purely for her employer, Mr Mitchelson.. Jasmine was quickly reminded of the sheltered life she no longer had, and the dangers of the work she was doing. Soon, however, it would all be worthwhile. She had began to earn the trust of these criminals, and was penetrating its layered hierarchy further and further.

Down the darkened alleyway she went, a swarm of her Magnemite and Magneton littering the skies. She could see the steel door that Largo had access to. He would meet her here.

“I’m here,” she whispered into the earpiece.

“Confirmed,” Bill replied. “Remember, threaten. Their defences are weak since agents are raiding The Coco Lounge tonight.”

It pained Jasmine to know that more raids were occurring; she couldn’t be everywhere at once. Standing in the shadows of the alleyway, she kept her eye on the door. Soon, Largo would emerge and she could step out to greet him. Soon she could get answers, peel back the layers and expose the organisation. As she waited, noticing her breath leave her lips in cool coils, she wondered when Largo would be here.

The huge thick silver door slowly opened. Jasmine looked to see who it was leaving the casino, her heart leaping with joy as she saw the fat, disgusting man Largo. Wearing a tattered jacket, his dirty, scraggled hair hung from his face. He lit up a cigarette and spat to the ground. Jasmine watched him for a few moments, eyes pressed into his large frame as he skulked around.

“Calm, collected and commanding,” came a rapt voice.

Jasmine looked to see a slim figure emerge from the well-lit Goldenrod street. This man was named Carlos Robinson; Jasmine had been doing the odd job for him as she worked higher within the organisation. Robinson was dressed in a full three-piece suit, with a subtle striped tie and his hair combed smartly, looking every bit the secret agent. He had striking blonde hair and youth in his blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Largo asked.

“Everything is going accordingly at The Coco Lounge,” Carlos replied, walking towards Largo. “I have some people working fine without my supervision.”

“Right,” Largo replied.

“Still guarding the door?” Carlos said, raising his eyebrows and letting his thin lips curl into a smile.

“I do a lot of things; one of them is to manage those entering the building,” Largo replied.

“You’re the company’s own little Cerberus, aren’t you?” Carlos said, smirking. “Blocking the entrance like a smelly dog.”

Largo looked angered at the comment but did not react; evidently Carlos was higher up than he was. Jasmine stayed pressed in the shadows as she watched the two men talk.

“How is Jasmine doing?” Largo asked.

“Very well,” Carlos replied. “Seems to be taking to the missions well.”

Jasmine felt bile bubble in her stomach; to know she was doing well at the job made her feel sick. She saw her magnets crackling in the sky, creating a riotous thunderstorm.

“But an ex-gym leader joining our ranks?” Carlos asked. “Really?”

“She’s not doing it publicly,” Largo replied.

“None of us are,” Carlos muttered. “I have my suspicions she is working for someone. Gaining information. On her assignments with me she has seen a lot, taken a lot in. Were she to be working against us, she would certainly hold a lot of crucial information.”

“You really think Jasmine’s a spy?” Largo asked. With each sound from the two men, Jasmine felt her heart lurch as she pressed even tighter into the wall. The cool shadows did not cloak her enough; she was petrified at being found out, but needed to hear more for Michael and Bill.

“I’m sending her on an assignment tonight,” Carlos said. “To the shipping yard in East Goldenrod. See how she copes there.”

“Tonight?” Largo asked, sounding confused.

“I know there are no shipments tonight,” Carlos said coldly. “But it’s far away…quiet…”

Jasmine gasped.

“You’re not -” Largo began.

“I might,” Carlos said insistently. Jasmine knew she had been rumbled. It wasn’t safe for her anymore.

“I’ve been discovered,” she hissed down her earpiece. Largo’s eyes widened at Carlos’ comment and he felt for something in his pocket, Carlos looking around the area cautiously. Jasmine quietly tried to leave the area, ensuring her footsteps did not echo off the walls. Just then, she heard a loud bang and a splatter; shocked, she turned around and saw Carlos Robinson’s body lying on the ground. He was alive, clutching his shoulder and roaring in pain. Fearful, Jasmine could not help herself watch the scene from afar.

“Are you okay?” came Bill’s hiss.

“Largo has just shot Carlos Robinson,” Jasmine muttered. On Largo’s order, a Muk slowly moved across the dirty alleyway towards Carlos, who seemed to have been shot with a pellet. Largo tucked his gun away, staring at his superior coldly.

“You will not hurt Jasmine,” Largo said. “She belongs to me.”

Muk’s thick, warm fingers clenched around Carlos’ leg. Carlos looked as the creature slowly crept over him, its heat pressing upon his body and making him wheeze. Its large, ominous eyes stared into his own as its gaping mouth widened, fingers moving up and gripping his neck. Largo watched greedily, eyes focused as Muk slowly engulfed the suited man.

“Mine to have. Mine to kill, if I wanted to,” Largo continued, eyes glazed over. Jasmine gave a soft gasp and turned to run down the alleyway, but she collided into a large trash can. As it rattled against the ground, Largo heard the commotion and walked towards the alleyway.

“Help me!” Jasmine cried.

However, a hand gripped her arm. She looked to see a familiar man around her age. He wore a baggy sweater, had a headband covering his wild, messy blonde hair and wore loose jeans. “Morty!”

“Mr Mitchelson sent me to pick you up,” he said quietly. Gengar materialised at his side, smirking.

“You work…?”

“I do now,” Morty said firmly.

"But...how?" Jasmine asked.

"It's the right thing to do," Morty told her. "We're the good guys."

"Have you been -

"Jasmine," Morty said insistently. "We need to go."

"How are we going to escape?" Jasmine asked. She saw Gengar's fat, clawed hand grip Morty's arm, before the same happened to her. The big purple spectre grinned at the two, before the floor beneath them slowly bubbled and they sank into the earth.

"Gengar can phase through solid objects," Morty explained. "And when he touches something, he can take it with him."

Jasmine felt one of her heels dangle from her foot as her legs sank into the ground; a clatter told her the expensive shoe hit something underground. In the distance, she could see Largo emerging at the end of the alleyway, looking around. The next minute, Jasmine slipped right past the solid ground and fell to the floor of an underground passageway.

"It feels weird the first time," Morty said, looking fine. Jasmine shakily put her shoe back on her foot. "Come on."

Jasmine nodded and ran through the tunnel with Morty, away from Largo, the organisation, and towards sanctuary.







Next Chapter
Milo and Jake, seperated in Ilex Forest, fight off the Friends of Pokemon and their hypnotic Stantler. But why are Peaceful Smith and the hippies patrolling the woods? As Milo and Medicham mend their broken relationship, Jake teams up with Bugsy and tackles the mysterious, free-spirited organisation. However, the Azalea Gym Leader seems to have a secret agenda....





Notes

-Oookay. Originally Ch16 was another on-the-road-to-Ilex-Forest chapter but it was getting a bit stodgy, so I cut a lot out. It's all slotted in somewhere else, so content wise, not a lot has changed in the grand scheme of things.

-Something that was taken out of Ch15, though, was a scene where Jasmine visited her parents, who own the daycare center outside Goldenrod. Jasmine had bought them MooMoo Farm, as it has been abandoned for four weeks now.

-The day care is also where Jasmine sends any Pokemon she can intercept from the organisation. Might this include Jake's Pichu?

-I also took out a doubles battle Milo and Jake had that's going in a future chapter. It's a good 'un, just quite lengthly.

-The Jasmine storyline involving Mr Mitchelson, the organisation, and Bill/Morty etc, has been wrapped up in terms of the main story. Since it's quite irritating having it nestled alongside Milo & Jake (I don't like storylines that detract from Milo and Jake), they will be posted between chapters, in what I will call The Golden Arc.

-The idea is that obviously these plot points are all hugely relevant to the fic, but not until much later on. So small snippets of what the characters are doing (and introducing new characters) will keep the momentum up with these people until the main story catches up with them.

-Does that make sense!?

-Has anyone picked up on Will being the E4 guy yet, cos you should have got that impression by like, Ch4. :p








Hope you like guys

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Finally, but it was good! I liked the different plots that are playing now and I can see that this new arc is starting.

Morty and Jasmine teaming up with Milo's dad. We really need to skip twenty chapters and hear the explanation of it it. The golden arc, looks promising.

The switching of characters reminds me of Dan Brown.

Yeah, Milo and Jake should really improve their pokemon and get out of the damn forest. Let's see what those hippies are up to.

Lol at the cannabis being the only solution to the hypnosis.

I liked how you put up the 'notes', gives us some backstage information.

Err.. yeah, I like to reply, but I'm not that much of a lenghtly guy =/

I'm really looking forward to the next chapter.

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Speedy reply Thanks for reading! Yea, the Golden Arc is just a way for me to address plot points that won't get answered as quickly, or ones that will look odd being answered in the middle of Milo and Jake's storyline.
The arc takes place mostly in Goldenrod and will explain a lot about this group Mr Mitchelson owns, how Jasmine got involved, and things of that nature. Each bit will just be a few pages.


Team growth = big priority. Unfortunately these hippies and their mojo powers can render Pokemon useless.


I'm so excited to kick-start the Azalea arc. It's fucked up XD


I'll include those footnotes at every chapter if you like!

[PancaKe]

I like the notes idea as well. I hadn't realised Will was the E4 guy. Great to know. It was a good chapter, I liked the relationship between Jake and Milo once more, I like the developments. I laughed during the Ilex Forest.


I'm looking forward to The Golden Arc. I'm enjoying their own plotlines though and finding out what's going on with Jasmine and all the other characters. I'd like to see what becomes of Morty and things as well.

[Sike Saner]

Thirding the favorable opinions of the notes; it's cool to get a bit of extra insight into the story and the process of writing it. ^^

I enjoyed the nice amount of humorous moments in that one--helped to distract me from the flu that's deciding to have its way with me at the moment. X3; Enjoyed the bits that surprised me, too, namely 1.) the unexpected twist at the end of Jake's capture attempt and 2.) this:

“I’ve been discovered,” she hissed down her earpiece. Largo’s eyes widened at Carlos’ comment and he felt for something in his pocket, Carlos looking around the area cautiously. Jasmine quietly tried to leave the area, ensuring her footsteps did not echo off the walls. Just then, she heard a loud bang and a splatter; shocked, she turned around and saw Carlos Robinson’s body lying on the ground. He was alive, clutching his shoulder and roaring in pain. Fearful, Jasmine could not help herself watch the scene from afar.

Just as I was beginning to think Jasmine might be in for some very big trouble, this came along. o_o So yeah, it succeeded in surprising me. ^^

Other highlights:

“You can phase through solid surfaces,” Morty grumbled. “How can you not find her?”

Narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, Gengar stared at his trainer.

Heh, amusing reaction from Gengar there. X3

Don’t we wish we could join them, Sally?”

“My clothes smell of vodka,” Sally moaned.

Epic response. XD

“We saw a Stantantler!” Billy said.

“It’s called Stantler,” Milo snapped.

“Stant-tantler!” Billy said. “Yay!”

I thought that part was really funny. I suspect that I'm going to be tempted to refer to them as "stant-tantlers" on occasion now. X3

“Milo’s right, we’ll miss you guys, too!” Jake said. His Ditto was reluctant to morph back from a Machop, and when Jake approached him kindly, the DNA Pokemon got him in a sleeper hold and hurled him to the ground.

Heh, yeah, this is an example of why displeasing a ditto might be a bit on the ill-advised side. X3

“HEY!” Jake shouted, interrupting Milo. “Sing a song a day - Sherman. I’ll totally do that!”

“You should!” Sherman beamed.

“I will!” Jake said.

“You should!”

“I will!”

“You should!”

“I will!”

“You shou-”

“HE WILL!” Milo snapped.

XD Oh God, I bet that could have gone on damned near forever if it weren't for Milo intervening there. X3

“I can’t even be bothered arguing with you,” Jake said. “You sound like a spoilt child.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” Milo admitted. “It’s not nice, but it’s true. I’m a spoilt kid being weaned off money and I can’t get my head around it.

To his credit, at least he's not under any delusions about it. X3

“We smell!” Milo cried incredulously. “That stew has possibly given me tapeworms! My back aches from this huge fuckoff rucksack…what is a laugh?”

"Huge fuckoff rucksack"... XD That phrase is awesome.

“So you think when you had money you had no problems?” Jake asked. Milo nodded instantly but regretted it; Jake’s face lit up as he reeled off his obviously pre-prepared speech.

Nice bit of description there. ^^

“Not…directly,” Milo muttered. He was flushing red slightly, concentrating on a nearby rock. It somewhat resembled a lemon.

I love that bit. ^^ There's just something very authentic about it--it really does seem like the kind of thought that could just pop into a person's head like that.

“I will have you know,” Norman said bossily. “I am the winner of the customer services award six times in a row!”

“YOU’RE THE ONLY PERSON WHO WORKS HERE YOU IDIOT!” Milo screamed.

XD

The last week or so has been a mixture of angst and diarrhoea.

Epic quote. X3

“Come on Jake, it’s a fucking Caterpie,” Milo moaned.

That line amuses the heck out of me for some reason. XD

“Paras…”

Paras looked at him expectantly.

“You can’t fly,” Jake realised.

XD Cue wah-wahhh noise. X3

“How did you get this deep into the woods, anyway?”

“Because I’m great,” Milo replied. He didn’t like to admit it was due to accidental teleportation.

Hilarious answer from Milo there. XD

“You will not hurt Jasmine,” Largo said. “She belongs to me.”

Muk’s thick, warm fingers clenched around Carlos’ leg. Carlos looked as the creature slowly crept over him, its heat pressing upon his body and making him wheeze. Its large, ominous eyes stared into his own as its gaping mouth widened, fingers moving up and gripping his neck. Largo watched greedily, eyes focused as Muk slowly engulfed the suited man.

“Mine to have. Mine to kill, if I wanted to,” Largo continued, eyes glazed over. Jasmine gave a soft gasp and turned to run down the alleyway, but she collided into a large trash can. As it rattled against the ground, Largo heard the commotion and walked towards the alleyway.

That business of engulfing someone like that that Muk does is creepy as hell. o__o For that matter, Largo's being pretty damned creepy there, too, with regards to not only what he's having that Muk do but also with the things that he's saying. o__o

[Chris 2.1]

Thanks for the feedback guys.

MLG: Morty's on board! The first part of The Golden Arc is about Jasmine, and how Mr Mitchelson's group started. It's coming at a later date.


Pancake: Psychic Pokemon...Will...strong trainer...we haven't really seen Will much though. I thought that Will would put a mask on and dye his hair purple and become this 'character' my concept of the E4 is that they're like celebrities, TV personalities.

In the Show-Off world, there is no Elite 4. It is known as The Elite Squadron and is a group of about 11 or so top trainers, including many of the E4's. In the timeline of the fic, Will was obviously close to having his own Gym when he died but ultimately, the character is the one who would ultimately have become the E4 guy you all know and/or love.

I like the Milo/Jake dynamic too


Sike: Hey! Yea Death-By-Muk is grim. Largo LeGrande is a disgusting man, and he will be seen through The Golden Arc. Glad the humour has helped your flu symptoms, get well soon!




Ok guys new chapter. I spoil you. The first part of The Golden Arc will be up in the next few weeks, between this (Ch17) and Ch18.


Enjoy!

Show-Off
-XVII-
Jungle Juice

Staring up at the clear blue sky, Sylvester Stallong smiled as he walked through Ilex Forest. The air was crisp and fresh; each lungful he breathed felt nourishing, satisfying; he brushed his shaggy hair from his eyes and looked around the woods. The Farfetch’d that belonged to his family ran along eagerly, brandishing its leek like a sword.

The path he took was high above a bubbling river; Sylvester could see the water frothing amongst the thick berg-like rocks, crashing down and winding through the forest. Hoisting his bag further up his shoulder, the young man walked on, scouring out the darkest wood to use for charcoal.

So used to Ilex Forest was Sylvester that his feet walked him left, right, around the big pine tree without him even noticing. He was admiring the leaves on the trees, some turning a soft, golden hue. A group of Weedle were munching through some thick, crunchy leaves as Farfetch’d swiped its leek across the trees.

“Keep an eye out for any good wood,” Sylvester said distantly. He heard a crunching noise and understood that someone was approaching from up ahead. Farfetch’d flapped back to his trainer as Sylvester kept his pace up. A very dirty looking woman appeared at the ridge; she had a distressed military jacket on over a black top, and had big boots on.

“Are you okay?” Sylvester asked.

“She is absolutely fine,” came an oily voice behind him. Turning, Sylvester saw a man in his late thirties standing there in a black jacket wearing a long, scraggled neck tie.

“You look…dishevelled,” Sylvester admitted. Subtlety was never a strong trait of his. As he mused, he noticed more and more of these odd people appearing on the path; there were even a few down by the flowing river, watching intently.

“We are all very comfortable,” the man said. Sylvester could not help but notice he was surrounded by them now. A Stantler calmly walked to the man’s side, where he stroked its neck softly. “We wanted a quiet word with you, Mr Stallong.”

“How do you know my name?” Sylvester asked.

“My name is Peaceful Smith,” the man said proudly. “We are the Friends of Pokemon.”

“Like, some society?” Sylvester asked.

“Precisely,” gasped Peaceful. “We seek to help Pokemon; to free them, to aid them, to work with them.”

“Why do you need to speak with me?” Sylvester asked.

“Your…Farfetch’d,” Peaceful murmured. “It is an incredibly rare animal.”

“Sure is,” Sylvester said, smiling at his friend. “This one has been working for our family for years.”

“Years, you say…” Peaceful said softly. “We feel, as the vigilant workers for Pokemon rights, that such a rare, precious Pokemon should not suffer under such rigorous work. They need to be with their own, so that they can prosper.”

“There is a colony of Farfetch’d in the forest, they work for our business,” Sylvester said. “It’s very far in.”

“That is what brings us here,” Peaceful told the man. “We want you to take us to the colony.”

“Why?” Sylvester asked.

“Because we’re taking them off your hands,” he replied coolly. Stroking the Stantler, Peaceful whispered into its ear. Sylvester was looking around at the dirty, empty faces of the environmentalists but did not seem intimidated.

“Farfetch’d!” he cried. “Air cutter!”

Pointing at the man, Sylvester suddenly felt a dizziness take him over. Colours burst into life before his eyes, melding those around him among each other in fluorescent distortion. He staggered back, watching the faces of the strange people melt as the sky crackled with powerful pink lightening.

“I don’t…” he began. “Feel…”

“Take us to the Farfetch’d colony,” Peaceful ordered. Nodding, Sylvester found his symptoms cleared slightly, and blinked past wonderful, bright lights to lead the way towards the colony. Peaceful turned to some of his people.

“I want you to all patrol the woods with the Stantler. Distort the area. I don’t want any interruptions.”

*

Jake ran on through the woods, wondering where the hippie lady had gotten to. Wingull was scouring the skies while Ditto sat on Jake’s shoulder. He was so light, it was effortless carrying him around. Jake brushed past ferns and bushes, wondering if he had lost the woman completely, and how a simple task like crossing the river had made Milo disappear.

“Any luck?” Jake asked. Wingull flew lower down, looking despondent. Jake let out a sigh as his Pokemon perched on his outstretched arm. “How did we lose her? I hope Milo’s doing better.”

He wandered on through the woods, noticing that the trees were marked with a purple dot; this meant they were in the thicker, wilder area of Ilex Forest, and Jake was momentarily worried about any ferocious wild Pokemon nearby.

“Where the hell is Milo,” Jake sighed, noticing Scyther slashing away thick bushes up ahead. “Scyther you might have to join my team if we never get reunited with your trainer.”

Scyther showed no signs of being interested, turning and slashing apart the overgrowth. As he did, there was a long shriek; Jake screamed in terror and Scyther suddenly held his appendages back warily.

“Don’t hurt me!” came the voice. Jake recognised it, and walked forward to find the woman from before laying on the ground, nursing a swollen ankle.

“I didn’t see you there!” Jake said. “Are you okay?”

“I twisted my ankle running away from you,” she said.

“It’s…Janice, right?” Jake said tentatively.

“Yes,” she muttered reluctantly. Jake looked at her dirtied face, her messy hair and her worn clothes. He recalled her being a loud, glamorous woman who seemed a bit too concerned about money. She seemed different now; so shy, meek…and where was her husband, Jeff?

“I’m Jake,” he said kindly, bending down.

“Oh, I thought it was Jack,” she muttered.

“Why did you run away from us?” Jake asked.

“I wasn’t supposed to be seen,” she replied. “Just to see. Not to be seen.”

“Last time I saw you, the farm got raided,” Jake said. “What happened to you?”

“We joined the Friends,” Janice told Jake. “Jeff and I. They offered to show us a life without materialism, without corruption, in an environment where we could help Pokemon.”

“What are they doing here?” Jake asked. “The hippies?”

“They aren’t hippies,” Janice said firmly. “We are naturalists. Trying to preserve a sacred Farfetch’d colony. We’re patrolling the woods with Stantler, causing anyone who gets too near to suffer hallucinations.”

“Well we’re getting headaches,” Jake said. “Can you let us past?”

“I can’t do a thing; my leg is really sore,” Janice said. “But you won’t be able to get past the other Friends. They are devoted to this.”

“Where should I go?” Jake said, looking around the huge forest. “I don’t know what to do…”

“Where did Milo go?” Janice asked.

“He just disappeared…he tried teleporting across the river,” Jake replied. “He could be anywhere in the world!”

“Look, follow this path for about a mile. It crosses with the blue path, which is the most direct one to the Route Gate. But there will be some of us around,” Janice said.

Jake took a look at the woman, dishevelled and in pain, before turning and heading on through the woods. Janice winced in pain as Jake left, hearing the Scyther’s wings beating quieter and quieter until there was no sound at all.

“Fucking stupid idiot woman,” Jake rasped. Scyther flew low to the ground slowly, eyes raking the woods. Jake supposed the Ilex Forest closely resembled Scyther’s home, so his superior vision was particularly useful here. Wingull took to the skies again to look around, while Jake kept Paras and Ditto in their Pokeballs.

As they walked, Jake hard a loud, sonorous roar from deeper in the woods. He froze, noticing Scyther come to a halt.

“Whatwasthat!?” Jake hissed. Scyther looked around. “I’m scared!”

A blurry mass swept past them; Jake gave a soft cry. Scyther stepped forward as the sound of leaves rustling got louder and louder. Something was coming at them. Jake clutched Wingull tightly as Scyther stood his ground.

Leaping out of the darkness was a huge, bark-like creature, with tough skin and leaves for hands. It had a gnarled face with a long snout and shaggy white hair, giving a loud roar from its belly. Jake screamed and staggered backwards as the creature eyed him with dark, cold eyes, but Scyther gave a shriek. The Shiftry looked at Scyther curiously, before leaping to the side and running at Jake.

“NO!” Jake yelled. Scyther bolted through the air and swung his scythe at Shifty; Shiftry flapped his hands and send a small, concentrated gust of wind to bowl the mantis back; Scyther staggered, allowing Shiftry to swing his head up and smash Scyther in the face. Flapping his wings, Scyther lifted off the ground and sped forward with a quick attack; he struck Shiftry and swung his scythes, slicing into the goblin’s chest.

“Yes!” Jake said. “Scyther use a silver wind!”

Flying higher up, Scyther span around and flapped his wings as hard as he could. A sparkling sheet of wind was blasted at Shiftry, who swung his arms and sent razor-sharp leaves at them. The leaves were blown back by the powerful attack, and Shiftry was struck by speeding ebbs of silver energy. Smiling, Jake felt a bit more confident about the battle, but looked on in horror as blurs and rustles echoed through the trees.

More of the wood creatures emerged; Scyther looked as a Shiftry punched him in the side of the head; another blasted a sweeping gust of wind to hurl Scyther towards a thick tree trunk, as a third charged up a ball of solar energy to launch at Milo’s Pokemon. Jake watched as a Shiftry not involved in the melee landed from the treetops and walked towards him.

“Wingull!” Jake said. “Scare it!”

But it appeared Wingull was too scared. Jake looked around as Scyther span wildly, knocking a Shiftry down. Two more leapt at him and Jake staggered backwards; there was a sudden crimson blur that sped past and knocked the attacking Shiftry down. Jake looked as a ferocious red Pokemon snapped its eerie pincers at the Shiftry and intimidated it.

“Get out of the way,” came a voice. Jake saw a boy around Milo’s age wearing a camel coloured shirt and cargo shorts. He had messy, purple hair and looked quite cross. “It’s not safe here.”

“What’s going on?” Jake asked.

“The Pokemon in the area are disturbed,” came the reply. The huge red creature that was with him let out sharp, irritable screeches as it swung its claws. They snapped and twisted, looking like serpentine heads. Scyther watched curiously. The Shiftry seemed to calm, backing away from the bright, loud Pokemon.

“By the Stantler?” Jake asked timidly, cowering slightly as the Scizor waved its claws and snapped them ferociously.

“I believe so,” came the reply. “Who are you?”

“Jake,” Jake replied.

“My name’s Oscar,” he replied. “Are you injured, Jake?”

“No,” Jake admitted. “What are you doing here?”

“I live in Azalea town,” Oscar replied. He seemed satisfied that the Shiftry had been warded off and turned to look at Jake for the first time since he burst onto the scene. “Are you on your own?”

“I was with my friend,” Jake said. “Milo Mitchelson. We got separated.”

“Milo Mitchelson?” Oscar asked.

“Do you know him?” Jake said.

“No…no, I don’t think so,” Oscar replied, turning away. Jake saw him concentrate hard for a brief moment, before turning back to Jake. “It’s not safe for you on your own. Come through the woods with me - I’m going to confront the people behind the disturbances.”

“What about Milo?” Jake asked.

“We’ll find him,” Oscar assured him. “Come on.”

*

“I need a new sidekick,” Milo mused, as his feet crunched through dry leaves. Medicham was at his side. “Jake’s lost…you’re not very well, plus you can’t talk…you know? I need someone to hang out with.”

He clicked his tongue.

“Maybe I’ll join these hippies. Ha.”

Looking at the map, Milo saw that someone was patrolling the area ahead. It was marked ‘Candi’ and looked to be quite a large area. Upon noticing that Medicham seemed quite tired, Milo stored her in her Pokeball and slipped it back onto his belt. He pulled out Totodile’s ball and held it ready.

The map indicated that, not too far from here, there were people patrolling with Stantler. Milo’s path dipped and started to wind toward a darker part of the woods, and he made sure to walk carefully. He was thinking about the dream he had about Luna; she was cryptic and pretty, but Milo had never fully understood that he had found her attractive. Recalling their encounter in Ecruteak City, Milo was captivated by the girl, but had he been blinded by just how beautiful she was? Maybe he had been thinking about the Eevee sisters at the time.

“Thinking about me?” came a soft voice. Milo turned to see Luna standing in the middle of the woods. She had a silvery grey fur coat on over a mini skirt, with leggings and silvery plimsolls. She was smiling at Milo as he stared, dumbfounded.

“Luna,” he gasped. “Have you been following me?”

“I heard your voice,” she cooed. “You think out loud an awful lot.”

“What are you doing here?” Milo asked. Luna walked towards him purposefully, licking her lips.

“I missed the Goldenrod Contest…I’m going to compete in Azalea,” she said. “That idiot at the Route Gate mentioned two boys with a Medicham and I knew I had to find you.”

Milo was rooted to the ground, transfixed as Luna placed her hands around his shoulders. She stared passionately into his eyes, beaming at him, and planted her lips on his. Milo felt heat radiate from his body powerfully; his hands slowly moved down Luna’s figure and gripped her hips, pulling her closer with lust.

She gave a soft moan as Milo felt every fibre of his being tingle with a rush he had not felt in a long time. This was not just a kiss; the two were bound with an overwhelming passion, exploring each other with such intensity. Luna’s fur coat was discarded as she ran her hands through Milo’s hair.

“You taste like blackcurrants,” Luna whispered, smacking her lips.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Milo gasped, as Luna unbuttoned his jeans.

“You’ll have to wait a little bit longer,” she said.

“What?” Milo asked, opening his eyes.

Luna stepped back and burst into flames before him; Milo gave a shriek and stepped back, finding his balance completely thrown off. Luna’s form slowly faded out of view, and Milo briefly saw a pair of antlers as he collapsed.

From the overgrowth, a girl emerged with a Stantler. She had bubblegum-pink hair and a nose ring, whispering words of congratulation to the Pokemon at her side. She held a radio to her thin lips.

“Peaceful, I found the Mitchelson boy. Stantler did its thing and he’s completely disorientated.”

“Good work, Candi,” came the voice of Peaceful Smith.

*

Milo’s head felt inflated; he opened his eyes with great difficulty and was met with a huge headache. Looking around, Milo saw himself in a dark part of the woods; he was sitting down, tied to a tree; the rough earth was irritating on his behind. His wrists throbbed with pain; it felt as if they were tied with thick rope. Milo could see many of the Friends of Pokemon littering the area.

“Mr Mitchelson has woken up,” came a familiar voice. Peaceful Smith came into view; he wore a tattered jacket, his face was smeared with dirt and he had on big black boots. “Hello, Milo.”

“What the fuck is with your smell?” Milo asked. Peaceful narrowed his eyes.

“Piss off,” he replied curtly. “We live in the open, we embrace nature. Get off your high horse you spoilt little prat.”

“Where is Luna,” Milo muttered, feeling groggy.

“Who is Luna?” asked Peaceful.

“The girl I was -” Milo began, before noticing a Stantler at the hippie’s side. “Your Stantler did it.”

“They’re inducing hallucinations on anyone who gets near us,” Peaceful said happily. “It’s kept the forest nice and quiet, I can assure you.”

He turned to the cluster of people.

“Sylvester!” he cried. A boy of Milo’s approximate age jumped. He was dressed in different clothes, with black hair - he was clearly not a hippie. “Where are the Farfetch’d?”

“It’s still a bit early for them to be roosting,” Sylvester replied nervously. “Give it a bit more time.”

Peaceful snarled, picking his nails irritably.

“You know, Mr Stallong,” he said, turning back to the boy. “I think the way in which you treat these Farfetch’d is disgusting. Making them cut down parts of this beautiful forest…how do you sleep at night?”

“We’re making the forest more accessible,” Sylvester said crossly. “Which will in turn make Azalea a far more available place for people to visit.”

“Ah yes, Azalea has fallen on hard times, hasn’t it?” Peaceful said.

“Our Gym was shut down as part of the Reclassification,” Sylvester told him. “Tourism is low, our economy is suffering.”

“And your family’s charcoal business…” Peaceful murmured. “Isn’t the Reclassification terrible…”

“It is!” Sylvester cried. “So whatever you are doing with these Farfetch’d, it will bring no good.”

“These birds need to fly,” Peaceful told him.

“Peaceful?” said Candi quietly. Milo saw her approach Peaceful with trepidation. “There’s a bit of a problem. Oscar is in the forest, and he’s fighting off some of the Stantler.”

“Oscar?” Peaceful asked hotly.

“Oscar’s here?” Sylvester asked.

“He’s with a young boy, they’re paralysing the Stantler with toxic spores,” Candi said. “Jeff was struck when he was patrolling.”

“Send some more Stantler to cover the area,” Peaceful barked.

“We need the rest for the Farfetch’d plan,” Candi reminded him. An irritable Peaceful Smith clenched his teeth and looked around the quiet forest clearing. Milo, Sylvester and the other hippies watched curiously.

“Candi, go to where Oscar is. Use whatever force necessary,” Peaceful muttered. Candi nodded and got her radio out. “We can’t let Oscar get here. He’s too dangerous.”

“Who is Oscar?” Milo murmured, still feeling somewhat groggy.

“The ex-Gym Leader of Azalea,” said Sylvester, who bent down to speak with Milo.

“Bugsy?” Milo said, pulling a face.

*

“So, you used to be the Gym Leader?” Jake asked Oscar keenly.

Oscar was walking along quickly, and Jake found it hard to keep up. Scizor was flying up ahead and using a silver wind attack to blast Paras’s stun spore across the woods whenever they saw the Friends of Pokemon. Paras jumped along happily, seemingly quite fond of Scizor.

“That’s right,” Oscar said.

“Did you ever battle Milo?” Jake asked.

“I can’t remember everyone I’ve battled,” Oscar replied irritably.

“How did you get the job?” Jake asked.

“I’d had it about six years. I worked as an apprentice for the previous Gym Leader, Arnold. He was a great man. But he passed away, and I was the only person able to take the spot,” Oscar explained.

“Wow,” Jake said.

“But this Reclassification,” Oscar muttered. “Fucking ridiculous. They deemed Azalea ‘inappropriate’ to have a Gym in it. They said that with a forest at one end and a huge cave at the other, it’s dangerous to get to, and the city doesn’t generate enough money for the League to continue investing in it.”

“It seems so unfair,” Jake said.

“That’s exactly what it is,” Oscar said crossly.

“I think I heard that they’re building a Gym at Mt Mortar,” Jake said quietly, hiding from Oscar that Milo was offered the Leader position.

“I heard something similar,” Bugsy replied.

“There must be a lot of rumours,” Jake said.

“I have a reliable source with a finger on the pulse,” Oscar said. “Azalea’s been cut off from Johto. I’m surprised you and your friend are even coming.”

“Milo is competing in the contest,” Jake said. “But…well, we were a bit sick of the big city. Goldenrod’s a bit too much.”

“They’ve had loads of thefts there, haven’t they?” Oscar said.

“My Pichu was stolen,” Jake murmured.

“Sorry to hear it,” Oscar said, although he didn’t sound particularly empathetic about the whole thing. Jake nodded and sniffed back a tear.

“It’s fine,” Jake said. “You know, sometim -

“Hold up,” Oscar said. “Look ahead at that ridge. There are two more of those people. They have a Stantler with them.”

“We met them at MooMoo farm,” Jake said. “They’re called Friends of Pokemon.”

“I’m aware who they are,” Oscar replied. “Their leader is from Azalea. He’s not welcome, though.”

“Okay, Paras, sprinkle a stun spore out. As much as you can!” Jake said happily. Paras nodded and wiggled his hips; a cloud of spores filled the area.

“Scizor, use a silver wind,” Oscar said.

The Scizor nodded and flapped its wings quickly; holding his claws out a thick, sweeping wind of sparkling silver energy met the spores and spread them ahead. Oscar watched with sick satisfaction as the people up ahead gasped and collapsed to the ground.

“I feel bad doing this,” Jake admitted.

“These people are manipulating the Stantler’s natural hallucinogenic properties,” Oscar said. “They need to be stopped.”

They ran up to the hippies, who were as stiff as boards and both on the ground. There was a male and female; the Stantler seemed to have fled the attack. Their eyes were wide open, mouths sagging, but they did not seem to be in pain. On this ridge, Jake looked across the forest and could see a cluster of people not too far away.

“Look!” he said to Oscar, who joined his side. “Wingull, go and investigate. Let me know if you see the lead-hippie from MooMoo farm.”

He released his faithful little gull, who soared through the skies towards the heavily populated area that they could see.

“Good work,” Oscar said.

“I wonder if Milo is okay,” Jake said. “I’m really worried.”

“You talk about him a lot,” Oscar noticed.

“I don’t,” Jake retorted.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Oscar assured him, smiling for the first time since Jake had met the ex-Gym Leader.

“He’s absolutely fine,” came a girl’s voice.

Stepping out of the overgrowth was a girl with bright pink hair. She looked like one of the hippie-people, and gripped a multicoloured Pokeball confidently. “We have him.”

“Scizor, get ready for a fight,” Oscar said coldly.

“Oscar, we can settle this,” the girl said. “My name is Candi Raine. I’m here to negotiate with you.”

“Negotiate?” Oscar asked. “You’re an idiot. We’re here to stop you manipulating these Stantler.”

“Oh, but what we’re doing will be for such a great cause,” Candi insisted. “It’s okay. We will be leaving the Stantler alone after this.”

“Where is yours?” Jake asked suspiciously.

“The rest of the herd are being used in the clearing nearby,” Candi told him. “I am not using one.”

“Paras!” Oscar said. “Stun spore! Full power!”

Paras nodded and wiggled sharply; on Oscar’s command Scizor flapped his wings and blasted another silver wind attack. The wind spread the spores and they whooshed at the gangly girl, but she stood quite still, smiling.

A white shield materialised around Candi and the spores disappeared into the atmosphere. She waved at the boys from her protective shield, which Jake concluded was a safeguard attack. His assumption was correct; a Drowzee appeared at her side with a pop.

“Nice try!” Candi said. “Drowzee cast a hypnosis attack.”

“Screech!” Oscar yelled. Drowzee’s manic waving of his stubby fingers was subdued when Scizor let out a horrific shriek. Paras blasted a bullet seed to strike Drowzee in the side of the head - Jake thought that hitting it’s head may make its psychic attacks somewhat weaker.

“Now go in for a metal claw,” Oscar ordered. Drowzee leapt out of the safeguard and clenched his fist, but Scizor swept down at a blistering speed, smashing the Pokemon across the head with two swings of his claws. Candi gasped as Drowzee staggered back; she got another Pokeball out and released a Golbat.

Drowzee nursed his head in the corner as Golbat flew at Scizor. Shooting up into the sky, Scizor span around and unleashed a silver wind, but Golbat used an air cutter to pierce through the attack and launch a screaming assault at the steel-type.

Jake noticed that, even if Golbat were to reach Scizor, its ability to suck blood from the foe would be ineffective against Scizor’s steely exterior. Sure enough, Golbat sank its fangs into Scizor’s arm, only to be battered across the head with a metal claw.

“Golbat, attack Paras!” Candi shouted. Paras squealed as Golbat flew down. The bug type was unable to release a spore through fear. Golbat swung its sharp wing-tip down and dealt a critical hit to the weakened bug; Paras scuttled towards Jake, but the bat gave chase.

“Paras release a cloud of spores!” Jake yelled. “Toxic! Stun! Sleep! Any!”

Paras nodded and shook his hide. Golbat flapped harder and swept down low to the ground, planning on scooping Paras up in its big mouth. Instead, it was met with a huge cloud of multi-coloured spores; Paras had unleashed poison powder, stun spore and sleep powder in one big blast of sparkling colour. Jake clapped his hands as Golbat shrieked and smashed into the earth, put completely to sleep.

“I’d recall that if I were you!” Jake shouted. “Golbat is completely unconscious, cannot move a muscle and is being attacked by a vicious poison.”

Candi scowled; she recalled Golbat just as Drowzee got to his feet, ready to fight some more. Jake was excited at Paras’s triple-spore combo, and clapped eagerly at his friend, who was sweating profusely. Wingull soared back towards them, chirping.

“Good work, Wingull,” Jake said, despite Candi having given away most the important information. Wingull perched on his shoulder as Scizor snapped his pincers at a precarious-looking Drowzee.

“You’re not going to see your friend,” Candi rasped. “I won’t let you!”

In a flash, Scizor appeared at her side, gripping her throat with one of his thick pincers and slamming her against the trunk of a thick tree. She gasped as the air left her lungs; Scizor stared into her eyes coldly while Oscar watched, at his side. Candi’s fingers scratched at Scizor’s spindly red arm but she could do nothing.

“Oscar!” Jake cried, looking concerned.

“Drop her,” Oscar muttered. Scizor released his grip and Candi fell to the ground. She let off a lurching gasp and massaged her throat; Jake saw that Scizor’s jagged pincers had drawn blood. “Come on, let your Wingull guide us to the leader.”

“You fucker!” Candi gasped.

“You’re going to stay here,” Oscar said firmly. He turned and sprinted through the woods.

“Was that really necessary?” Jake asked.

“She was sent here to stop us, so yes, I think it was necessary,” Oscar told Jake.

“Scizor’s pretty frightening,” Jake noted, as the creature flew alongside them. He was concerned that eventually Milo would evolve his Scyther into something like this, with its freakish eye markings on its large metal claws.

“If we pick up the pace, we’ll be there in no time,” Oscar muttered. “That Paras of yours is certainly very powerful.”

“He’s awesome,” Jake said, holding the awkward orange Pokemon under his arm.

“He might prove useful against the hippies,” Oscar said. “Let’s go.”

*

Milo blinked furiously. He wriggled his hips. Any physical action, no matter how demeaning or uncomfortable, was helping as the surroundings span around him wildly. The trees were waltzing with one another, and the clouds formed into phallic objects.

“Is this what it’s like being a hippie?” Milo tried to say. The resulting noise was a hysteric vomit.

“The boy’s subdued,” Peaceful noted. “Sylvester! The Farfetch’d have not arrived yet. Why is this?”

“I don’t know,” Sylvester said earnestly. Peaceful frowned.

“LIAR!”

He raced at Sylvester and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“BRING THEM HERE!”

“I can’t!” Sylvester admitted.

“Oh yes you can,” Peaceful growled. He paused as a strange noise filled the skies. Sylvester looked up to see a flock of brown birds sweeping across overhead.

“Here they are!”

“They’re here!” Peaceful shouted. “Everyone in place!”

The Friends of Pokemon all gathered around, Stantler by their sides.

“We need to use Stantler’s curious powers to convince the Farfetch’d to migrate,” Peaceful announced. “Away from this laborious forest of humans.”

The ducks all began soaring down, landing in the trees and perching on branches in the clearing. Peaceful eyed them hungrily, his plan coming to fruition. The Stantler in the area stared dolefully at the birds; their small black orbs that sat within their intricate horns glowed softly.

“They don’t want to live here!” Peaceful bellowed. “They live in a safe place…somewhere further south than here…”

Milo squinted at the spectacle, feeling his symptoms weaken. Maybe the Stantler were no longer focusing on him, but he felt far more aware of his surroundings than before. He noticed the pain in his wrists from being bound by rope; he noticed the pools of vomit around him were probably his own, and a peppermint-like scent wafting around him could only mean one thing.

“Paras!” Milo hissed. The little creature slashed his ropes and scuttled to his side. “Hey buddy!”

Milo stood up, slowly, and turned to see Jake running towards him. Wingull was on his shoulder and with them was Oscar, the Azalea Gym Leader. He had a dark red Scizor at his side.

“Jakey!” Milo said happily. Jake ran and embraced Milo. “You ok pal?”

“Fine,” Jake said. “You know Oscar, right?”

“Bugsy?” Milo asked.

“Don’t call me that,” Oscar said coldly. “Where have they got to? What are they doing?”

“They’re short-circuiting the Farfetch’d with Stantler’s mojo,” Milo said. “Convincing them to migrate somewhere else.”

“Fucking idiots,” Oscar muttered. “Do they know anything about ecosystems?”

“Probably not,” Milo said. “Drugs have been heavily involved today.”

Jake laughed.

“Where is Scyther?” Milo asked. “Wasn’t he with you when I disappeared?”

“I sent him back to guard our bags,” Jake said. “All our stuff is back at the creek.”

“Fucks sake,” Milo replied.

“Never mind that, Jake, silver spore time,” Oscar said.

“Paras use stun spore!” Jake commanded. Milo hopped out of the way as Paras wiggled and released a cloud of dark orange spores. They floated on the air, drifting by themselves until Oscar’s Scizor flapped its wings and blasted a concussive blast of sparkling, silver wind. Milo watched, intrigued by the powerful Pokemon, as the spores blasted through the air and struck the hippies, causing them to collapse.

“It’s working!” Oscar said. “More!”

Peaceful Smith saw the Stantler and the hippies collapse; he ducked behind a shrub as the next silver wind drove the spores high into the skies; as the Farfetch’d began to fly away under Stantler’s influence, they inhaled the spores.

“Wait a minute!” Sylvester yelled. “What are you doing!”

Farfetch’d began falling from the sky, their limbs stiff. Milo watched as one bird crunched into the ground, neck snapped, wings splayed and leek mashed to a pulp. One by one the birds dropped, Peaceful letting out long, saddened moans each time.

“Fuck!” Oscar yelled. “NO!”

“Paras, send an aromatherapy cloud into the air!” Jake cried.

“It’s too late,” Milo pointed out. All the birds were falling, some lodged in trees, others thwacked into the ground. Seeing the endangered birds dead around the clearing was grim. Sylvester and Peaceful Smith both seemed distraught at the demise of the Pokemon.

“You fucking idiots!” Sylvester yelled. “YOU JUST KILLED ALL THE FUCKING FARFETCH’D!”

“We were trying to stop them being driven away,” Oscar retorted. “It would damage the ecosystem!”

“Don’t tell me about the FUCKING ECOSYSTEM!” screamed Sylvester. “MY FAMILY’S BUSINESS DEPENDS ON THE FUCKING ECOSYSTEM!”

“You should have left us be,” Peaceful said, looking at his paralysed comrades. “You have done nothing but damage.”

“You should see Candi,” Oscar said darkly. Peaceful’s eyes widened.

“Where is she!?” he cried.

“Where you sent her,” Oscar replied. Peaceful barged past them and through the woods, crying for the pink-haired girl.

“I can’t believe you,” Sylvester repeated, a Pokeball in his hand. “You’ve killed dozens of birds.”

“And what were you doing, Stallong?” Oscar said. “Being a victim. We’ve been fighting through the woods, and you’ve been taken hostage. We have been trying very hard to stop these people, and we did.”

“These Farfetch’d at least died in their homes,” Jake pointed out. His comment seemed to anger Sylvester, who hurled his other Pokeball through the air with fury. Bursting from the ball in a flash of light was a tall, green cactus with thick needles and hollow eyes.

“Hey!” Milo said, getting ready to send someone out to fight. Oscar stopped him.

“Jake, show him what you’re made of,” he said. Jake smirked and stepped forward, Paras at his side.

“Paras! Go for a bullet seed,” Jake said confidently. Paras blasted the quick-fire seeds at the ground; Cacturne started hot-footing it around the area as if gunfire was blasted towards him. Cacturne swung a thick, club-like arm at Paras, who tucked in and rolled out of the way.

“Don’t use your claws,” Jake warned his Pokemon. “It looks sharp.”

Paras nodded, leaping back as Cacturne blasted a pin needle through the air. The shining white pins wedged into the soft earth, but Paras dodged each one.

“Try a tri-spore!” Jake said happily. Paras sped along and zipped under Cacturne’s legs; the large Pokemon turned as Paras burst with colour; thick purple clouds wafted into the air, accompanied by ominous orange spores and a haze of green powder.

Milo was impressed at Jake’s handling of the bug-type. Cacturne coughed and spluttered as the different spores found their way onto his skin; as he staggered around, Paras leapt up and attempted a slash attack, but the foe turned and clubbed him with his arm.

Paras fell to the ground, looking dizzy.

“Hold on, Jake,” Oscar said. Scizor swept forward and a metal claw smashed into Cacturne’s side. Cacturne collapsed to the ground, the sleep spores finally working their way into his system. Scizor and Oscar watched Sylvester as he recalled his Pokemon.

“Go home, Sylvester,” Oscar said. “I will see you later.”

“I’m telling Kurt about this,” Sylvester told him.

He shot a scathing look at Jake and walked on through the woods. Milo looked as Jake hugged his Paras fondly. Oscar looked very proud of Jake. Milo was disappointed he didn’t get to do any fighting himself.

“That was great,” Oscar said to Jake. “When you get to Azalea, come to the old Gym. I’ll help you train Paras some more.”

“Thanks!” Jake beamed.

“Thanks for all your help,” Milo said to Oscar. “Seriously, you’ve been great.”

“If you guys take that path, you’ll get to the Route Gate in about a half hour,” Oscar told them. “Azalea’s just on the other side.”

“Are you not coming with us?” Jake asked, confused.

“No, no, I have some business to attend to,” Oscar said. “Oh, I’ll get your bags sent to Azalea for you, too.”

“Cheers,” Milo said.

“I’ll also tell Scyther where you are,” Oscar said. “He’ll come find you in no time.”

The boys wandered on past the flock of dead birds, through the path that would take them to the route gate. Milo was missing his Scyther, and looked forward to his team getting back together. Jake seemed quite happy after his day with Oscar, and seeing the boy cope so well without him stirred an uncomfortable feeling in Milo.

Meanwhile, Oscar was walking north through the forest, having sent his Scizor to go to the creek and retrieve the boys backpacks. He wandered through the thick overgrowth, seeing a Bellsprout sink its roots into the earth and a Weepinbell hanging from a tree.

He arrived in a darkened area, with an old stone well set into the ground. Oscar smiled at the sight of it, tracing the stones fondly with his finger. Walking around the perimeter, he spotted a crude drawing of the Hive Badge in charcoal.

Sitting on the edge of the well, Oscar got his phone out and dialled a number. He looked at the trees above; they blocked out almost all of the light.

“Hello?”

“It’s Oscar.”

“How did everything go?”

“Pretty well,” Oscar admitted. “I’m on good terms with them.”

“Them?”

“He has a friend.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine; I sent them both to the Route Gate. Make sure Maisy is there to meet them.”

“She’s on her way.”

“Excellent,” Oscar replied.

“Is it really getting to this stage?” the voice asked.

“Absolutely,” Oscar said, smiling. “We’re so close.”






Next Chapter: Milo and Jake have traded in the glitz and glamour of Goldenrod City for the peace and quiet of Azalea. But during their first day in the company of the Azalea townfolk, Milo and Jake begin to suspect that something may be up. Is Oscar hiding something from them? Could the residents know something about the Goldenod thefts?



Notes

-Ok so when I was drafting this fic, one the major things was Bugsy. Who calls their kid Bugsy? What if he likes fire types? = screwed. So when I decided on having him in the fic, I felt it was important to address that he has a name, and his nickname was Bugsy.

-The Hippies will be back one day. But not for a while.

-Who was Oscar reffering to when he was on the phone? Do you think he's interested in Milo or Jake?

-The grim twist at all the Farfetch'd dying was sort of to quash the idea of lead characters just saving the day for everyone as they live their life. As you can see, the opposite is obviously the case here XD

-The concept of Azalea suffering in the economic crisis was something that excited me. The Reclassification has ruined the economy in Azalea, so they've constructed a contest hall to try and draw some people. Milo might have an easy victory on his hands if he actually puts some training in.

-Luna: I love that girl. Readers of TPML know what a fleshed-out and multilayered character she is, but I don't want to bring too much of that to Show-Off. Luna has managed to enthrall Milo; he doesn't know why, but there's something about her he is fascinated by. So when Milo's been hallucinating, I thought it would be fun to have her appear, like a spirit guide.

-A scene I took out of Ch17 actually had her appearing to him completely naked, since that's probably what he desires XD. I changed it though. Luna won't fall for Milo like the other girls do.

-Azalea is looking to be 4 chapters long I think. Oh and for future reference; keep your eye on The Membership Card. We're not done with it!

[PancaKe]

YAY!

A few things I noticed:

- I love bullet point lists.

- You at one stage referred to Oscar as Bugsy and then back to Oscar again. Bit jarring. I think you just made a mistake.

- I love the developments between Jake and Milo. I thought it was a good move to separate them for a while, it gives them time to develop on their own. And their reunion was good as well; see I told you something was going on between the two of them!

- I think the Hippies are the kind of characters I want to punch in the face. Its wonderful you can make me feel that frustrated about a character.

- I'm loving the authors notes. They explain a lot, and they give me such an insight into what you're thinking.

- I'm looking forward to the golden arc. The thing about Show-Off is that it seems to be about all these other little things, and then sometimes I forget that its actually about contests and/or the reclassification.

- The economic thing was clever. I love it when people inject real world issues into the Pokemon world. Things like drugs, alcohol, clubbing, economy, etc. It's smart.

- I'm looking forward to seeing what is to offer next chapter with Oscar's mysterious phone call as well.

- So I'm convinced that Jake and Milo are both gay, but what I just realised is that while I support "StylerShipping" (As I will now dub it); Milo's been hooking up with girls left and right. I can't believe I have been so confused. So... sigh! Now I'm positve that stylershipping is real; but I'm not sure what to make of Milo's one night stands anymore.


Confusion.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

- I'm looking forward to the golden arc. The thing about Show-Off is that it seems to be about all these other little things, and then sometimes I forget that its actually about contests and/or the reclassification.

Yeah, the different subplots make sure that some variation is in place. It gives the story a more 'round' feeling, a finished feeling.

- The economic thing was clever. I love it when people inject real world issues into the Pokemon world. Things like drugs, alcohol, clubbing, economy, etc. It's smart.

As I said before, but I'll just put in the spotlight again. Good show.

The hippies are bleg. Cocksuckers. Poor stantler, and poor farfetch'd.

Bug-pokemon are one of my favorite types, along with Ice and Rock, so I'm thrilled for Azelea! Bugsy was a cool guy in GSC and I'd like to see his Show-off counterpart now. Don't mess it up!

The Bugsy Subplot looks cool. Is there a connection with Milo's dad?

Stories need more bugpokemon =/

Also, I wouldn't mind Luna appearing again in the fic.

[Sike Saner]

Ah, the hilarity that can ensue from hallucinations in fiction... Yeah, the bit with the Luna-hallucination that Milo had was great. I especially liked how one moment hallucination!Luna was about to take off Milo's pants and the next moment she burst into flames. I just thought that particular sequence of events was funny. X3

Damn, what happened to the farfetch'd was certainly unexpected. o_o Yeah, that'd definitely qualify as an "oops" on the heroes' part. X3 But these things happen. Not all victories are clean or perfect or whatnot; sometimes things don't go exactly right, as was the case there. So that outcome had the nice effect of bringing a touch of realism to things. I think it's neat to get to see a not-so-clean victory sometimes.

Other highlights:

“What the fuck is with your smell?” Milo asked.

XD Milo has some truly epic quotes...

Sure enough, Golbat sank its fangs into Scizor’s arm, only to be battered across the head with a metal claw.

X3 Awesome.

Golbat: *bites, or rather tries to*
Scizor: *swats Golbat as if it were a mosquito*

I love that. X3

The trees were waltzing with one another, and the clouds formed into phallic objects.

...Holy crap. XD

“Don’t tell me about the FUCKING ECOSYSTEM!” screamed Sylvester. “MY FAMILY’S BUSINESS DEPENDS ON THE FUCKING ECOSYSTEM!”

Another epic quote, this time courtesy of Sylvester.

[Chris 2.1]

Pancake: Bullet Points VS Bullet Points - behold!


- Ah sorry about the Bugsy/Oscar thing. For future reference, his name is Oscar, but when he ran Azalea Gym, he went by the nickname Bugsy. I like the name Oscar. I think its quite a handsome, strong name.

- Milo and Jake are really developing; have a look at their first meeting in Ch2 and look how far they've come!

- Hippies = weirdos.

- The thing about Show-Off, when it comes down to it, is that it's a story about a guy called Milo and his friend Jake. It's a contest fic, but I don't drive home the concept that all Milo thinks about is contests. Because, as you'll know, he doesn't. He chose to do them on a whim and isn't a typical coordinator.

So the fic is kind of about the world Milo lives in. The issues in his life, the people he meets and the Pokemon he trains. I have to say, The Golden Arc is a great way to deal with things that are important to the fic without them interrupting Milo's adventures.

- Stylershipping! Pancake you rock! I've never had a reader make a ship between my characters. I think you're all well aware that Jake is gay, and it's suggested that he likes Milo. But what's Milo's beef? He certainly seems to be friends with Jake, and they get on really well compared to when they first met (as you may recall, Milo asked Jake to join him so he didn't have to pay for a stylist for his Pokemon)

Is there a ship for Milo and Luna? Milo and Gina? You might need to make a new one after reading the first part of The Golden Arc, too...


MLG: You'll see Oscar's kickass Scizor in Chapter 18; he has a great array of bug types and is a lot stronger than in the games. I love bug-types, too!

Oscar and some of the Azaleans have a surprising connection to something....is it Milo's Dad? Read on!

And Luna...I think she's great. But she won't be in the fic again just yet, not physically anyway.


Sike: Hey! Poor Farfetch'd :/ wah-wah-waaaaah. We'll see Sylvester and his odd family in the Azalea arc, and Lune will appear in a future installment. Thanks so much for reading!



Guys here is the first installment of The Golden Arc. Please let me know what you think of it. Chapter 18 will be following just before xmas


Previously

-Jasmine killed Adam Anderson, an agent for a mysterious company.

-Under Mr Mitchelson's orders, Jasmine worked undercover for the company to try and penetrate its ranks.

-She also witnessed Largo LeGrande, henchman for the company, shoot and smother a well-ranked agent named Carlos Robinson.

-Mr Mitchelson recruited Morty for his cause.

The Golden Arc
One
French 25

Jasmine heaved a sigh and pressed her nose against the glass as she stared across a sodden Goldenrod City. It was a particularly soggy day; rain pelted down the streets and lashed against the windows. Jasmine pulled the cuffs of her cashmere jumper down and was happy knowing that she was nice and warm.

“There’s been another theft,” came Morty’s voice. Jasmine turned to see Morty phase into the room effortlessly, Gengar at his side. They were in a large, warm room with sofa’s and a low coffee table. There was a large fridge with a glass door containing bottled water, fresh salads, and sushi, which Mr Mitchelson was particularly fond of.

“Where?” she asked.

“People have been posing as staff at the National Park,” he said. “And taking participants Pokemon.”

“Oh,” Jasmine sighed.

“Reported Pokemon stolen include a Clefable, a Bellossom and a Tropius,” he added. Jasmine said nothing, tracing her finger along the glass as she stared into the distance.

“Right,” she said, eventually.

“You okay?” Morty asked her.

“Just…exhausted,” she replied. “This is a never ending job. We’re not stopping to catch our breath. And since Largo killed Carlos Robinson, I’ve just…felt deflated.”

“Mr Mitchelson said he wouldn’t send you to that organisation on your own,” Morty reminded her. “I’m here to help you, we all are.”

“They think I’m working against them,” Jasmine said. “They’re suspicious. It’s too dangerous to go back there. But we were so close, so close to working out how to stop this.”

“Why did you start?” Morty asked. “How long has this been going on?”

“Months,” Jasmine said. “Milo’s brother William stumbled across something about a year ago, and he tried to go public about what he knew. He knew something crucial, but then he was killed in a car crash. Mr Mitchelson believes William’s car was knocked off the road by someone from the organisation to stop things leaking out. Whitney was in the car with him at the time. She survived. But William perished.”

“So it wasn’t exactly Whitney’s fault,” Morty pointed out.

“Mr Mitchelson spoke with Whitney. He explained that she’d probably get the blame, and sincerely apologised. But he let her in on information about the Reclassification and assured her that he would let her maintain her position when the wheels were in motion,” Jasmine continued.

“Oh,” Morty said.

“Incidentally, I met with Whitney a couple of weeks ago,” Jasmine said. “I tried to get her to come and work with us, but she was freaked out by it. I think she’s generally quite a broken girl since William died.”

“I definitely thought that,” Morty said.

“Anyway after William’s death, his Pokemon were stolen from him,” Jasmine said. “All except two. His Alakazam, Kazaar, and a Medicham that he had recently acquired. Mr Mitchelson looked after Kazaar, and Medicham was left with Milo. The other four, however, were stolen.”

“So Mr Mitchelson is trying to get them back?” Morty asked.

“I think he has made peace with the fact that the Pokemon could be anywhere in the world,” Jasmine said. “And our goal here is never to try and reunite people and Pokemon. It would be too big a task. We are trying to stop the people from trafficking Pokemon altogether.”

“I suppose there are a number of groups,” Morty said.

“Exactly,” Jasmine said. “But this one we’re tracking…they’re huge. Shipping Pokemon all the way to Hoenn and beyond. A huge, tiered hierarchy. And we’re so close.”

“So why did you join?” Morty asked.

“Bill found me,” Jasmine said. “He tried developing a tracking chip for electronic devices, and wanted to see if it would work on my Magnemite, since they have an electrical output. It wasn’t successful, but in working with him, we started using the Magnemite to distort or manipulate phone signals. It really is quite clever.”

“So you’ve never been robbed or mugged for your Pokemon?” Morty asked.

“No,” Jasmine replied. “I just did a lot of the tech stuff with Bill. When Milo left home to start coordinating, Mr Mitchelson asked me to trace some of his calls, but Milo’s smashed his phone now, so we can’t get in touch with him.”

“Smart girl,” Morty mused.

“Hey, you can walk through walls,” Jasmine pointed out, smiling. “So you with us for the long haul now?”

“I think so,” Morty said. “It makes sense. It feels good to be doing something, you know?”

“Yea, definitely,” Jasmine said. “How’s the new Gym in Ecruteak?”

“Karen is doing a good job, yea,” Morty replied. “She doesn’t like the down-grade from being in the Elites, but she’s providing a good challenge.”

“It’s weird how much everything has changed in the last year,” Jasmine said. “Cianwood has a new leader. Olivine and Ecruteak do. Azalea is shut down altogether….”

She trailed off as a voice crackled overhead. From his office, Mr Mitchelson spoke through the intercom.

“Jasmine, Morty,” he said. “Bill’s got a report of a delivery to the back of The Lucky Carp Casino. Pokemon prizes. Get down there and scan the Pokeballs. It looks like they might be the Pokemon stolen from The Coco Lounge last week.”

“Okay,” Jasmine said, running to the other side of the room. She opened up her locker and put on a peach-coloured raincoat, spraying some perfume on her neck.

“Sounds promising,” Morty mused.

“Things always do,” Jasmine moaned. “Get your coat.”

Morty opened his new locker and got out a thick purple and red knitted scarf. He wrapped it around his neck a few times, before getting his jacket out. Jasmine watched as Morty slipped on his wool military jacket, fastening the gold buttons and popping the large collar.

“Take one of these,” Jasmine said. It was a large computer-like device, with a long screen and keypad down the side. It was sleek and silver; Morty pressed the buttons inquisitively. “This is a device Bill built. They scan Pokeball’s to determine what is in them.”

“How do they do that?” Morty said.

“They take a reading of the kinetic energy that a Pokeball exhibits,” Jasmine said loftily. Morty raised an eyebrow. “Pokeballs give off an output to keep the Pokemon inside. The stronger the Pokeball, the more it restrains the creature inside. Lighter Pokemon need a smaller output, heavier or more aggressive Pokemon cause the Pokeball to give off more energy.”

“Right,” Morty murmured.

“What did I just say?” Jasmine asked.

“Pokeballs…” Morty began. “Exhibit…symptoms…”

“Forget it,” Jasmine snapped. “We just need to scan the Pokeballs being delivered. We should gather enough data from each reading to deduce if they are the same Pokemon taken from The Coco Lounge.”

“The Pokeballs all have ID numbers on them anyway,” Morty added.

“Right,” Jasmine said. “That will help.”

“Gengar,” Morty said. Phasing through the wall was his large purple ghost Pokemon; Jasmine flinched at the sight of the sinister creature; she did not particularly like it. “Take us to the Lucky Carp Casino.”

Jasmine felt the Pokemon’s gnarled claw grip her shoulder, and the scene around them melted away. As she left the office building, a sudden chill crept down Jasmine’s spine; her feet floated effortlessly and her eyes burned from the brightness around her.

Moments later, Jasmine found herself staggering into the wall of an alleyway. Morty ran a hand through his hair calmly, watching as Jasmine clutched her stomach. The were in the heart of Goldenrod City, down a dark cobbled lane near The Lucky Carp Casino.

“You okay?” Morty said.

“Not used to teleporting,” Jasmine grumbled, looking pale. “Okay, the Casino is just here.”

At the end of the street, Jasmine peered left and saw a large white truck parked up near the thick steel door that was the back of the Casino. The disgusting Largo stood at the door ominously, watching as a man climbed out the driver’s seat and over to the back door.

“So how are we going to do this?” Morty asked. Jasmine thought for a moment.

“You’re better with Gengar,” she said. “I’ll distract the men and you phase into the side of the truck. Scan as many of the Pokeballs as you can; the device will tell you if it matches any of the stolen Pokemon on our database. If they do, pocket them.”

“What if they don’t match?” Morty asked.

“Then they aren’t stolen Pokemon,” Jasmine said.

“How are you going to distract the guys?” Morty asked. Jasmine held a Pokeball out at her side, releasing one of her Magneton. The shimmering magnetic Pokemon floated in the air, its eyes focusing on Morty inquisitively.

“Leave it to me,” Jasmine said. Morty nodded as Gengar gripped his forearm, casting his ghostly cloaking properties over his trainer. Jasmine saw a brief outline of the trainer and Pokemon, who now camouflaged in with the surrounding buildings. The air rippled lightly as they moved.

Jasmine stayed pressed into the wall and ordered her Magneton to float towards the large truck. The engine was still on, causing the large vehicle to splutter and shake as it coughed out curls of exhaust smoke.

“Everything went accordingly,” said the man who drove the truck. “Carlos Robinson oversaw the entire operation.”

“He’s gone missing, you know,” Largo said coldly, standing by the steel door.

“I heard,” the man murmured. "Any leads?"

"None," Largo said. "I don't think we'll ever know what happened."

Jasmine watched as Magneton throbbed for a moment; a magnetic pulse popped open the bonnet of the truck, exposing the engine. Crackling with electricity, Magneton unleashed a burst of sparks that smashed into the engine and caused the truck to overheat.

Largo seemed ignorant to the damage, but the driver leapt up in shock as he saw sparks frying the front of the truck. Magneton hovered out of the way quickly as the driver looked at the smoke and steam, panic-stricken. Largo seemed uninterested, standing at the door, looking around.

“The truck!” he cried.

“What happened?” Largo barked.

"The engine's overheated," he replied, turning from the fumes and coughing. "Just like that!"

As the two discussed the problem, Morty, still cloaked with Gengar, phased into the side of the truck and looked around. The truck was full of wooden crates with the lids discarded or splintered. In the middle of the truck was a single black suitcase.

"Bingo," Morty murmured, getting out the device Jasmine handed him and kneeling down to examine the case. He traced the surface of the case with his finger, noting how sleek and luxurious it looked.

Largo and the driver were only a foot away, albeit on the outside of the truck; Largo seemed indifferent to the destruction of the engine, as long as the 'prizes' were delivered to the Casino. The driver, Jason, was worried what what would happen with his truck, as he had a pickup from the docks the next day.

Morty turned on the device Jasmine gave him; the royal blue logo of 'Mitchelson Enterprises' popped up. Morty held the scanner to the first of six Pokeballs, watching the screen crackle and flash as it scanned the output.

“Okay,” Morty murmured. “Giving off a strong reading…”

He surmised that the Pokemon was just over one hundred pounds; the reading, however, was very strong, which may suggest that it was a fighting or a psychic type. They were more difficult to restrain, and since it was an ordinary Pokeball, the maximum exerted force was applied. Still new to this, Morty was unsure what conclusion to come to, until the etched ID number flashed up on the screen.

ID Number Matches that of Kadabra ♀, reported stolen from Coco Lounge

“Christ,” Morty gasped. He quickly scanned another Pokeball, making sure he caught the ID number.

ID Number Matches that of Persian ♀, reported stolen from Coco Lounge

Morty found, after scanning the other ten Pokeballs, that all were reported stolen recently. Some were from the Coco Lounge raid, others from the thefts at The Cloyster Club and one was a Cyndaquil that had been intercepted during its delivery to Mr Pokemon. Knowing that all twelve Pokeballs were all indeed stolen Pokemon, Morty remembered what he was told and snapped it shut, gripping the case in his hand.

“We need to get out of here,” he said to Gengar.

Gengar gripped Morty’s shoulder and cloaked the pair of them; as they were about to phase through the side of the truck, the door was wrenched open and Morty could see Largo peering inside. As Morty was holding the suitcase, it was rendered invisible along with him. Largo's eyes almost burst from his head as he looked at the empty truck.

“HEY!” he roared. “Jason! The truck is empty!”

“Fuck if it is,” came the driver’s voice. “I just -”

"I DONT SEE A FUCKING CASE!" Largo screamed.

Morty took this as his cue to leave and Gengar led him through the side of the truck. They dropped to the ground, looking around the darkened evening as Largo began bellowing to the skies. Morty saw Jasmine down the alleyway, Magneton bobbing by her side. She was peering around inquisitively, unable to see the cloaked Morty

“I’m here,” he hissed, appearing before her. Jasmine jumped and clutched her chest in shock as Morty showed her the sleek black briefcase.

“Did you scan them all?” she hissed.

“All stolen. There’s a Persian from the Coco Lounge, a Wigglytuff that was stolen way back during The Cloyster Club raid…even Mr Pokemon’s Cyndaquil.”

“Good, good, that’s good!” Jasmine said. “Largo’s getting frustrated - he’s seen the suitcase is missing.”

“MUK!” roared Largo. “SEARCH THE AREA!”

Jasmine looked horrified.

“Muk have a great sense of smell,” Jasmine said. “Teleport us out of here!”

“Okay,” Morty said. “Gengar. Teleport us.”

Jasmine recalled Magneton and watched as Gengar gripped Morty’s shoulder. Looking apprehensive at holding the sinister Pokemon's claw again, Jasmine was apprehensive. Morty sensed this, and held his hand out to Jasmine, who took it in one of her own. Jasmine clutched at Morty's fingers and felt the warmth eminating from his body; he watched their held hands and smiled.

Perhaps she was seeing a different side to Morty, the moody young boy she had known for many a year. As they were from adjoining cities, the two often sat next together at the bi-annual Johto League Conference, but he almost seemed like a different person now. Maybe he was cuter than she initially thought? Although he was apparently dating Rochelle, one of the Eevee sisters...

Unfortunately, as Jasmine was whisked away from the darkened alley, all she could think about was her uncontrollable urge to vomit.





Notes

-Yea I'm doing notes for this. XD

-So a lot of info was dished out, but Morty is a highly inquisitive. I think he wanted to know everything, if he was going to be living in Goldenrod.

-Remember Milo's hotel in Goldenrod? The Mitchelson Suite, at the Mal Maison hotel. Mr Mitchelson owns the entire top floor, and he has given both Jasmine and Morty rooms at the hotel.

-Bill has a flat in Goldenrod, and dated Mia some time ago. Mr Mitchelson took a shine to Bill, particularly since he seemed to put up with Mia quite well.

-I think it was important for Mr Mitchelson's team to get a win, since they've had it tough lately. Jasmine will send the recovered Pokemon to her parents, who have recently moved to MooMoo farm.

-In case it wasn't clear; Pokemon like Gengar who can teleport, phase, turn invisible etc; by making contact with people or objects they extend the range of their natural ability, hence how Morty and Jasmine can teleport, or turn invisible etc.

-Bill hasn't come up with a name for his scanning device. Any ideas?

-We'll soon learn who runs the big company trafficking Pokemon.

-The chapters in The Golden Arc are all named after types of Champagne or Champagne cocktails. Since they're a bit special.

-The Pokemon featured will not usually be featured in the fic; they're gonna be legendary Pokemon, mostly.

[Sike Saner]

I am really liking the way Jasmine and Morty interact so far. There's been some nice humor in those interactions, and I'm quite interested in seeing what lies ahead as far as the way they interact goes.

A lot of info was dished out indeed, and I liked that. Again, I think it's good to get more insight into things and more details about them, especially with regards to things like the circumstances surrounding William's death.

Speaking of things to do with William, I wonder if the other four of William's pokémon really are lost to the winds or if one or more of them might pop up somewhere...

Other highlights:

“Sounds promising,” Morty mused.

“Things always do,” Jasmine moaned.

I liked Jasmine's response there--it's the way she said it that made it great, I thought.

“Pokeballs give off an output to keep the Pokemon inside. The stronger the Pokeball, the more it restrains the creature inside. Lighter Pokemon need a smaller output, heavier or more aggressive Pokemon cause the Pokeball to give off more energy.”

“Right,” Morty murmured.

“What did I just say?” Jasmine asked.

“Pokeballs…” Morty began. “Exhibit…symptoms…”

“Forget it,” Jasmine snapped.

XD Again, I am really liking their interactions.

Jasmine felt the Pokemon’s gnarled claw grip her shoulder, and the scene around them melted away. As she left the office building, a sudden chill crept down Jasmine’s spine; her feet floated effortlessly and her eyes burned from the brightness around her.

Cool teleportation description. ^^

Morty nodded as Gengar gripped his forearm, casting his ghostly cloaking properties over his trainer. Jasmine saw a brief outline of the trainer and Pokemon, who now camouflaged in with the surrounding buildings. The air rippled lightly as they moved.

And there's a cool application of Gengar's abilities. ^^

ID Number Matches that of Kadabra ♀, reported stolen from Coco Lounge

“Christ,” Morty gasped. He quickly scanned another Pokeball, making sure he caught the ID number.

ID Number Matches that of Persian ♀, reported stolen from Coco Lounge

I liked the font change for the text from that device.

Perhaps she was seeing a different side to Morty, the moody young boy she had known for many a year. As they were from adjoining cities, the two often sat next together at the bi-annual Johto League Conference, but he almost seemed like a different person now. Maybe he was cuter than she initially thought? Although he was apparently dating Rochelle, one of the Eevee sisters...

Unfortunately, as Jasmine was whisked away from the darkened alley, all she could think about was her uncontrollable urge to vomit.

Very interesting, the way Jasmine seems to be beginning to see him--that first bolded bit made me chuckle. X3 And I liked the second bolded bit a lot; I thought it was funny, especially since it followed the paragraph that it did and since I thought it was an amusing note on which to end a chapter.

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: Hey! Thanks for reading, glad you liked the first part of The Golden Arc. Chapters such as these will be dotted between chapters of the fic and will be short, self-contained stories that I think will shed some light on the mysterious organisation that is causing a stir in Goldenrod.

Jasmine and Morty are also kinda cute together. I get the impression that Jasmine and Eva are from quite a nice background; Olivine seems like a wealthy town. Morty, on the other hand, has dabbled in drugs, likes a good drink and doesn't have a lot of money, so it's interesting seeing them interact.

I wonder if we will see William's other Pokemon?




So I'm tying up the second chapter in the Azalea arc; it's great so far. I'm really happy with this next set of chapters and the characters we have, so I can't wait for you all to see Chapter 18 - The Pink Lady, which I will post in the next few days.

More team changes are on the cards!

Milo's complacency could endanger his chances in the Azalea Contest.

Jake makes a surprising connection with an Azalea resident.

It's all looking good.

Also its my birthday! I'm 21! Whoooo.

[Chris 2.1]

Previously

-Milo and Jake left Goldenrod
-They battled through Ilex Forest, fighting hippies and Stantlers.
-In the end, they were rescued by Oscar, the ex gym leader of Azalea, who seemed to be keeping an eye on the boys.

Show-Off
-XVIII-
Pink Lady


When I’m walkin’ down the street
They say ‘hey sexy’
(hey sexy)

When I’m shoppin’ wid ma girls
They say ‘hey sexy’
(hey sexy)

When I’m driving in my car
Or I’m standing at the bar.

It don’t matter where I R
They say ‘hey sexy’
(hey sexy)

Music blasted from chunky speakers in a spacious loft room. A girl in her early twenties got off the phone and set it on her dresser, sashaying her hips in time to sugary music. She looked at herself in the mirror, holding a pink tee over her slim, tanned body. The girl then looked at a tight polo top, but she didn’t care for it; throwing it to the floor, she slipped the scoop-neck cotton tee over her head.

Next, she slipped on a pair of denim shorts, turning to see them clamp on her buttocks tightly.

“Hey sexy,” she giggled.

“MAISY!” came a cry. “GET YOUR ASS DOWNSTAIRS!”

“For fucks sake…!” the girl hissed, rolling her eyes as she curled her dark hair in the mirror. With a few gypsy-inspired bangles on her wrists, and after slipping on some white sneakers, Maisy winked and headed out the door.

Her room immediately opened onto the stairs, and Maisy ran down two at a time, the light from the skyline beaming into the wooden house. As she emerged at the bottom of the stairs, she saw her grandfather sitting in his favourite chair, looking over the newspaper.

“You’re late,” he grumbled.

“I was getting ready,” she said earnestly.

“Is that a headband you’re wearing round your ass?” he said, frowning.

“Denim hotpants,” Maisy said. Her grandfather shook his head.

“I know the sun’s out,” he said. “But you’re going to the Route Gate, not Lavaridge Peak.”

“Oscar’s orders,” Maisy pointed out.

“That Oscar is mad,” her grandfather said stubbornly, looking in the newspaper once more. Maisy watched him only for a moment; when he resumed whistling, she took that as her cue to leave. She grabbed her keys and was out the door in seconds.

Leaving her house, Maisy was met with a sunny day in Azalea. Across the street, people were gardening, chatting over white picket fences or jogging through the sunny town. Maisy saw her grandfather’s Slowpoke resting against the mailbox idly, and she rolled her eyes.

“Hello Maisy!” came a delightful coo.

“Hi Cecilia,” Maisy said, walking to her next door-but-one’s. A kind looking woman with bobbed brown hair was pulling up some weeds in her garden. A Roselia danced in the pleasant afternoon. “How’s your day?”

“Lovely, thank you,” Cecilia said happily. She had an apron on and had dirt smudged on her face.

“Any lodgers?” Maisy asked. Cecilia ran a bed and breakfast in her four-bedroom house.

“None,” Cecilia admitted. “It’s such a shame. I made a wonderful fish pie yesterday. I think Slowpoke ate most of it.”

“Well Oscar says we have two guests coming to town today,” Maisy told her, smiling as the woman’s face beamed.

“Oh how lovely,” Cecilia said. “Won’t that be nice. Guests!”

“I know,” Maisy smirked. “I’m off to meet them now. Maybe you’ll have some new lodgers?”

“If you put them in my direction, you can have that bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in my cellar,” Cecilia said, winking.

“Deal,” Maisy replied. “Catch you later!”

“Bye, dear,” Cecilia said, kneeling back down and tending to her garden.

Maisy walked on through the town, greeting any of the neighbours she saw along the way. It was a wonderful day, one full of promise and progress, and meeting the new guests to the little town was oddly exciting. As she passed the glossy new contest hall, Maisy wondered if their upcoming contest would bring more people to Azalea.

Soon, she reached the little wooden Route Gate and wandered inside. Behind the counter was Herman, who sat in a rocking chair staring at the ceiling.

“Hey Herman,” Maisy said, winking.

“This lemon is delicious,” the man said, raking his teeth into the zesty flesh of the yellow fruit. Maisy watched his face contort wildly; Herman was a senile old bat.

“Anyone come through yet?” she asked, leaning against the opposite wall.

“Pickles,” he murmured, licking the fruit.

“Thanks,” Maisy replied. Herman’s Slowpoke was chewing its own tail, suckling it slowly. It’s eyes were facing different directions.

“Are your boobs bigger?” Herman asked inquisitively.

“I don’t think so,” Maisy replied, stretching her top over her chest. “Do you?”

Herman dropped his lemon and swung forward on his rocking chair; in one swift motion his face smashed against the counter and he rolled onto the floor, groaning. Maisy chuckled at the perverted old man as the door opened from Ilex Forest.

“Welcome to Azalea,” Maisy said.

“Thanks,” the first boy said. He was quite young, with twigs in his messy blonde hair and a baggy polo shirt on.

“My name’s Maisy,” she said, smiling. “And you are?”

“Jake,” he said, sitting down and heaving a sigh.

“Milo,” the second boy said.

Maisy pulled a face; the two smelled faintly of sweat and vomit, looked to have been wearing the same clothes for a week, and were generally a complete mess. Was this the Milo Oscar had mentioned?

“Lovely to meet you boys,” Maisy said. “Good trip?”

“No.”

“Well,” she said absently. “Erm…why don’t you both come with me. I’ll show you around the town?”

“Sure,” they both murmured. Maisy rolled her eyes.

She was going to be having words with Oscar.

*

Hours later, Maisy was sitting in Cecilia’s living room. Upstairs, Milo and Jake were showering, having booked rooms with the kind lady at Maisy’s insistence. Maisy was enjoying a glass of wine, staring at the ceiling.

“When I said you could have that wine,” Cecilia said, carrying a tray of cakes and biscuits. “I didn’t mean that you had to drink it now dear.”

“I thought those guys were both gonna be hot, you know?” Maisy said, finishing her glass.

“The dark haired one looks quite handsome,” Cecilia noted. “He reminds me of my son.”

“They were wearing vomit-stained clothes,” Maisy said. “And they were like…really miserable! I managed to make Herman smash a tooth out when I wore this top. And they didn’t even react“”

“They’ve been trawling through the woods for a few days, give them a break,” Cecilia said. The doorbell rang suddenly and Cecilia perked up.

“Oscar?” Maisy asked.

“I expect so,” Cecilia said, scurrying through the house. “Coming!”

Maisy poured another glass of wine and picked a cream cake from the tray. Cecilia was a fantastic cook. Oscar walked into the room with two large backpacks, a fold up tent and a signed guitar. He left them in the corner of the room; Cecilia eyed the dirty objects suspiciously; foreign in her clean house.

“How did everything go,” he asked them.

“They’re showering upstairs,” Cecilia said. “I’m quite fond of Jake. He is darling.”

“I can’t believe you,” Maisy said to Oscar. “You want me to fuck Milo?”

“Oh!” Cecilia gasped.

“Sorry Cecilia,” Maisy said. “I know you don’t like swearing.”

“I didn’t say you had to do that,” Oscar said. “I said, make him feel welcome.”

“You implied as much,” Maisy said coldly.

“Oscar, I don’t agree with that,” Cecilia admitted.

“We all have a part to play,” Oscar told them.

“And what would mine be?” Cecilia asked.

“To be an excellent host. To make the boys feel welcome. And above all, make sure they stay here long enough,” Oscar replied.

“I would think that decision is up to them,” Cecilia said.

“Really?” Oscar asked, raising his eyebrows.

At that moment, the sound of the boys talking could be heard upstairs. Oscar looked at the women fleetingly as Milo and Jake entered the room.

“How are you feeling after a nice hot shower?” Cecilia said kindly.

“Fucking great,” Milo said, smiling. Cecilia winced, causing Maisy to laugh.

“What are you doing here, Oscar?” Jake asked, sitting down. He had put on a white t-shirt with multicoloured stars all over it.

“I just came to see if you boys had settled in,” Oscar said. “Cecilia does the best cooked breakfasts in Johto, you know.”

“Oh stop,” Cecilia said, blushing.

“Scizor and I got your bags,” Oscar said, gesturing towards the bags in the corner. “So I’ll just…be heading off then.”

“Goodbye, Oscar,” Maisy said, as Cecilia led him out of the room. Maisy looked across at Milo, who was wearing a blue plaid shirt. He looked to have a nice, sculpted body, and his dark hair seemed so much better for being washed.

“So do you live around here?” Jake asked, nursing a cup of tea in his hands.

“Yea, next door but one,” Maisy said, nodding. She looked to Milo, who was staring at her chest. “My grandfather is Kurt.”

“The Pokeball designer?” Jake asked.

“Yea,” Maisy muttered. “If you meet him…don’t mention that.”

“Oh,” Jake said, sounding thoroughly confused. “I…okay.”

“What do you do for fun around here?” Milo said. Maisy turned to him and stared into his eyes for a moment too long.

“We…there’s a cool pub called The Mucky Pup, we hang out there a lot,” Maisy said, biting her lip. What did she do for fun? “I sometimes visit Goldenrod…”

“You have to trudge through that psycho forest every time you go to Goldenrod?” Milo asked, bewildered.

“No,” Maisy said. “We -”

She paused.

“Oh fuck.”

Milo and Jake raised their eyebrows.

“Oh fuck!” she cried. She grabbed her glass and drank the rest.

“I meant Violet City,” she said, smirking. “Not Goldenrod. Violet is cool. The Route from Azalea is also pretty nice, it’s a kind of seafront, Violet’s nice.”

“I’ve never been,” Jake said.

“It’s nice,” Maisy mused, flushing bright red. Cecilia came back in and beamed at the two boys.

“How are we?” Cecilia asked.

“I have to go,” Maisy said, getting to her feet and clutching the bottle of wine. “Bye Cecilia.”

“Goodbye, dear,” Cecilia said, looking perplexed as Maisy made her way out the room. Milo watched her go, eyes glued to her hot-pants.

“Maisy seems nice,” Jake said.

“Oh she’s lovely, a real gem,” Cecilia said. “Her grandfather is Kurt, the Pokeball designer. Just -”

“Don’t mention it. Yea, Maisy said,” Milo muttered.

“We’ve all fallen on hard times,” Cecilia admitted. “Kurt sold his designs for his Pokeballs to the Silph Company. It was the only way for him to generate some money.”

“He used to be renowned, didn’t he?” Milo said.

“Yes, but now his designs are being produced and distributed in every city,” Cecilia explained. “It really is a shame. Kurt got a hefty pay check but he feels lost without his craft now.”

“Well thanks for letting us stay,” Milo said. “It’s very kind.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Cecilia told them. “We haven’t had lodgers here for a few weeks. We were hoping the new contest hall might get more people visiting Azalea, to be honest. I do hope you can stay a while.”

Milo smiled, taking a sip of his tea. He thought to their savings, however, and wondered how many nights they could realistically afford with their funds. Looking across at Jake, it seemed he shared the same thoughts.

*

Later on, Milo and Jake wandered through the town as Cecilia scurried into the kitchen to make chicken pie for dinner. Milo and Jake found an old arena marked out in the town, and decided they would do some training there.

Milo sent Medicham, Totodile, Scyther and Magnemite out of their Pokeballs. He decided to give Scyther a rest after his intense fighting in Goldenrod, and thought his main focus should be curbing Totodile’s violent behaviour, and working on Magnemite’s skills.

“Magnemite, use charge,” Milo said. His silvery magnet throbbed with energy as sparks coursed through his body; seeing Gina use this technique with her Ampharos in Olivine made Milo determined to practice it himself; it would really boost the power of the Pokemon’s electrical attacks.

“Now fire off a thunderbolt at that target,” Milo said, pointing to a crude target the boys had made earlier. Magnemite vibrated and a bolt of lightening burst from his body; it arched up and swept down, pointed like a javelin and fizzing with volts. It smashed into the target and destroyed it instantly.

“Good job!” Jake said, sitting on the grass with Wingull, Paras and Ditto.

“Yea, so good we ruined the target,” Milo muttered. Jake had an idea.

“I got these in Goldenrod,” he said, delving into his pocket. “Actually, I found them during my bike job and kept them.”

He produced a foil packet of Pokemon trading cards; he sifted through them before finding the one he was looking for. It was a card of Spinda; seeing it made Milo think of Whitney’s slobbering panda and his stomach churned violently.

“Ditto,” Jake said. “Can you transform into this Spinda?”

Ditto squeaked and glowed white, before his shape formed arms and legs, a big, round head and large ears. Milo watched with intrigue as the light died down and a Spinda stood before them. It did not stagger with dizziness as Spinda usually do; Milo presumed it was because physiologically, it was still a Ditto.

“Ditto, now that you’re a Spinda, can you transform your markings to make them look like a target?” Jake asked. Ditto-Spinda screwed his eyes shut and the brown markings all over his body melded; soon they formed rings bursting out from the centre of his body like a target. There were mini-targets on his paws and ears.

“Good job!” Milo said happily.

“Ditto-Spinda-Target,” Jake said, chuckling. Spinda walked opposite Magnemite and got into a readied pose. Wingull and Paras were cheering for their friend.

“Okay, charge again,” Milo said. “Build up a resistance when you feel the electricity ready to burst out of your body. Contain it, use every muscle -”

He stopped.

“Every unit in your body to keep the electricity from firing out your body,” Milo said. He really needed to do some research and figure out just what Magnemite was.

Magnemite used a charge attack again and glowed brightly. As sparks rattled along his smooth surface, Milo thought about his Electabuzz, and how they used to work hard on his electrical attacks. Electabuzz was one of his strongest Pokemon.

“Keep going,” Milo said, noticing that Magnemite was shaking now. “Hold it in…”

Magnemite was jerking erratically; sparks were shooting off left and right; clearly Magnemite could not contain them any longer.

“Go!”

Magnemite gave a long groan and blasted the attack from his body; the sparks bursting forth were a china-blue in colour, possibly because of their heat and intensity. Recognising it as a discharge attack, Milo watched happily as the frenzied attack struck Ditto-Spinda and hurled him across the field as the sky was scarred with blue forks of lightening.

“Good job!” Jake said. Milo looked to see Totodile running over to Ditto-Spinda. Ditto-Spinda turned and smiled, only to have his arm chomped down on. Totodile clamped his jaws around the panda’s appendage, causing much distress.

“Hey!” Milo shouted. Totodile used an ice fang, sending icy crystals seeping up Ditto-Spinda’s arm and towards his shoulder. Melding away from its Spinda form, Ditto transformed into a Gastly; with no physical body to harm, Totodile collapsed to the floor, confused. Ditto-Gastly floated around ominously, hissing at the two boys.

“Calm Ditto down,” Milo insisted. “Don’t let the power go to his head.”

Jake ran towards Ditto-Gastly, with Paras scattering therapeutic spores around the area.

“Now then,” Milo said to Totodile. “We need to talk.”

Totodile span around on the spot, claws glowing with a crackling metallic energy. Milo liked the metal claw’s look, and was thinking about appeals as he addressed his vagabond Pokemon.

“What’s wrong?” Milo asked. “You’re going crazy these days. I’m scared of using you in case you lose it.”

Totodile stared at him, looking completely baffled. Medicham was by Milo’s side in case Totodile got out of control.

“I want you to be happy on my team, pal,” Milo said. He held a hand out for Totodile. “But if you keep acting like this, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

Totodile walked over to Milo’s outstretched hand inquisitively. All-too-quick his eye sparkled and he opened wide, sinking his teeth into Milo’s palm. Milo clenched his own teeth as pain flooded up his arm; Medicham looked ready to intervene but Milo held a hand out.

“Let him take it out on me,” Milo winced.

“Milo!” Jake cried.

“Maybe he’s just frustrated,” Milo hissed, eyes screwed shut as Totodile hung from his hand.

His fingers twitched and jerked as Totodile screwed his eyes shut; an instant later, the gator fell from his grasp and hit the ground clumsily. Milo, still feeling pain sear through his hand, opened his eyes to see two thick fangs embedded in his palm.

“He just stopped,” Jake said, his Ditto now in his arms.

“He was teething,” Milo said, pulling a fang from his hand. It was soaked in blood, but Milo held the fang up and admired it. “And it must have hurt so much he went wild. How do you feel?”

Totodile sat on the floor, looking somewhat ashamed. Milo stuck his finger into the Pokemon’s gum and felt around.

“You’ve got space for some even bigger nashers pal,” Milo said, stroking his head. Totodile looked at Milo’s hand sadly, but Milo scratched the back of his ridge with affection.

“You need to get that hand seen to,” Jake said, losing the colour in his cheeks.

Milo ignored him, having Totodile blast a water gun into the ground to propel himself high into the air. As droplets of water fell all around, Totodile unleashed a metal claw in mid-air, spinning wildly as water flew off his Pokemon’s shiny claws.

“We have loads of training to do,” Milo said. Paras, upon seeing Jake look distressed at Milo’s large gaping wound in his hand, screwed his eyes shut and managed to blast a fine silk from his mouth, spraying it all over the field.

“He’s using string shot!” Jake said, awe-struck. “Paras, wrap up Milo’s hand.”

“There’s really no-”

Milo was interrupted when tendrils of sticky silk flew in every direction. Paras’s aim was appalling, but the little bug tried its best to aim for Milo’s hand. After getting a mouthful of the curious silk in his mouth, Milo decided to bend down and allow Paras to work a bit closer to the wound.

“You’ll improve your aim with time,” Jake mused, watching as Paras snipped the end of the silk string. Milo looked at his hand, wrapped in the suspiciously warm string and bound tight.

Just then, the boys heard a voice and saw Oscar approaching them. He was wearing green clothing and his wild purple hair looked messy. Jake waved his hands excitedly at the arrival of Oscar; Milo noticed that the two seemed quite friendly.

“I see Paras is doing well,” Oscar said. “Good work Jake.”

“Thanks!” Jake said.

“I heard you boys were out training so thought I might come and do a bit of training myself,” Oscar admitted. “Sound cool?”

“Sure,” Milo said.

“I think I remember you getting a badge from me last year,” said Oscar, as he stared at Milo. “Did you use a Golduck?”

“Yea!” Milo said. “That’s right. I used Rhyhorn too. But I’m using a different team now. I’m coordinating.”

“I see,” Oscar said. “The Totodile you have is certainly a unique colour.”

Oscar released Scizor from his Pokeball; in a flash, the crimson Pokemon emerged, staring at the other boys with its big eyes. Milo liked the look of the steel Pokemon, and wondered how long it had been since Oscar had evolved it from his Scyther.

“Totodile fire an ice beam,” Milo said, pointing at Scizor. Nodding, Totodile opened his mouth as the icy crystals formed into a pearly orb. A beam of ice shot from the little alligator’s jaws, but Scizor swept across to the left and dodged the attack. Totodile looked irritated.

“Double hit,” Oscar said. Scizor bolted along the plains at Tototodile, the markings on his claws glowing softly.

“Dodge!” Milo yelled. Totodile aimed at the ground and blasted a jet of water; he propelled himself backwards and Scizor’s swinging claw missed. Still glowing, Scizor leapt up and smashed his other claw into Totodile, hurtling the small Pokemon to the ground.

“You okay?” Milo asked him.

Totodile held his head wearily and looked at Scizor with scorn. He gave a shrill cry as he clenched his fists, and Milo began to see what was happening almost in slow motion. A bright glow engulfed the little alligator, and Jake clapped his hands with joy.

“Totodile!” Milo yelled.

“He’s evolving!” Jake shouted. The creature grew, with big, spikier ridges bursting along his head and down his spine. Milo saw stronger, bigger claws develop and a much stockier frame, all the while noting the intense heat emanating from the Pokemon.

“Scizor, hold back,” Oscar said quietly.

The evolution seemed to take a few minutes; Milo saw a much more forceful jaw take shape and the light start to soften. Croconaw, as the creature was now called, had a bright blue hue and a royal blue coloured set of ridges, like Totodile. A sash-like pattern across its chest was the same vanilla-tint of the creature’s bottom jaw. The three boys looked at the alligator as he stared at his claws.

“How do you feel?” Milo said. The Pokemon turned and vomited in the grass, groaning.

“Poor guy,” Jake said. “Imagine what it must be like to evolve.”

“It’s like going through puberty in four minutes,” Oscar stated.

“Do you feel up to battling?” Milo said, patting the Pokemon’s back. Croconaw shook his head and patted his tummy. Milo smiled at him, noticing his fangs had grown back upon evolution.

“Why don’t you let him rest for a bit, and send another Pokemon out?” Oscar said.

“Scyther!” Milo cried, pointing to the battlefield. From the sidelines, Scyther flapped up and landed in front of his trainer. He stood proudly, staring at Scizor with intrigue. Oscar’s eyes widened at the Pokemon, and his lips formed into a smirk.

“Scizor go for a double team!” he yelled. Leaping into the sky, Scizor split into three copies. The three then swung and leapt around, splitting into three more each until there was nine Scizor around the group.

“Silver wind,” Milo said. Spinning on the spot, Scyther created a silvery web of sparkling wind to blast through the air. Twisting into a column of bright light, the silver wind eradicated some of the clones, but many of them escaped, sweeping through the air at Scyther.

“Get on the defensive!” Milo said. Crossing his scythes in front of his face, Scyther dug his clawed feet into the earth as the Scizor’s melded back into one single form. Scizor swung his thick claw down and smashed against Scyther’s blades; he withstood the attack but winced slightly. Scizor then swung his other claw under and pounded Scyther in the gut.

“Take to the sky!” Milo said. Scyther flapped out of the way of another attack and boosted into the air. Scizor leapt into the sky after him, but was met with a slash attack. Scyther’s blade screeched against Scizor’s tough exterior, doing no damage.

“It’s like driving a sword into a shield,” Oscar noted. “Stab, stab, stab.”

“Scyther has a superior speed,” Milo boasted. “Scyther! Agility!”

Nodding, Scyther leapt up into the air and soared along the skies. He shrieked loudly as he swooped overhead, looking down at Scizor. Scizor leapt up into the air, but Scyther turned sharply and fled; Scizor then turned around to be met with a powerful silver wind attack. The wind blasted into Scizor and hurt his eyes.

“Now, go in with X-Scissor!” Milo yelled. Crossing his scythes, Scyther swept in for the kill. Scizor opened his eyes blearily and snapped his claws; as Scyther swung a scythe to strike, Scizor gripped it tightly in his jagged appendage. Scyther charged up a razor wind in his remaining scythe, only to have Scizor clamp it in place with his second claw.

There, in the sky, was a sight to behold. Scyther’s scythes gripped tightly by Scizor’s sharp claws, with both beasts flapping their wings to stay aloft. Milo watched with confusion, genuinely torn on what to do. Scizor normally sacrificed a lot of speed when they developed their resilient steel skin upon evolution, but this creature anticipated Scyther’s attacks and countered with such precision.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Oscar said, as Scyther’s wings began to flap slower and he lost energy. “Scizor is fast.”

“Uncharacteristically,” Milo said.

Oscar nodded at Scizor, who let one of Scyther’s scythes free. Before Scyther could even raise it to strike, Scizor, still clenching Scyther’s other appendage, span around and hurled Scyther down into the ground. Scyther gave a gasp as he hit the earth, causing a cloud of dust to billow up before Milo.

“Scyther,” Milo said, bending down. “Get up and let off a slash.”

Scyther nodded and got up, shaking his head. From the cloud of dust, Scizor swept down and landed. One claw was drawn back, clamped shut, shimmering silver. Scizor launched it into Scyther’s skull, where the bullet punch hit and sent Scyther flying to the ground.

Milo watched, awe-struck. Scizor held his claw out; it still sparkled softly. The creature was magnificent, and Milo couldn’t believe it belonged to a trainer he pummelled so easily at the Gym not long ago. Scizor walked to Oscar’s side and Milo helped Scyther up.

“Listen guys, this has been fun,” Oscar said. “But I have to head off. Why don’t we do a bit of training tomorrow, too?”

“Yea, I want to test out Croconaw,” Milo muttered.

“We’ll work on Scyther’s attacks if you want,” Oscar replied. “And Jake, we could train Paras, too.”

“Cool!” Jake said.

“Remember to be back at Cecilia’s on time,” Oscar said. “It smells like a fantastic dinner she’s making.”

Milo and Jake stayed in the field for another hour. Croconaw lay on his back, staring at his arms and feeling the spiky ridges on his head with overwhelming intrigue. Magnemite practiced electrical attacks as Milo desperately tried to think of an appeal for his magnetic Pokemon, while Jake had Paras release some soothing spores to help Croconaw feel less poorly.

Seeing Scyther get his ass handed to him brought about some interesting problems for Milo. He sat on the grass with his four team-mates, Jake running around with his own Pokemon, and considered the possibility of evolution. Clearly the skills and attributes Scizor possessed were what enabled it to trump Scyther so easily. After all, it evolved. It underwent a natural imperative in order to survive, to grow. Could Scyther ever defeat something which had developed to correct its own flaws? Milo had always considered evolving Scyther into a Scizor, eventually; he just wanted to let it grow as a Scyther, first. But would it be held back in terms of prowess?

After the training session, they returned to Cecilia’s house for dinner. Cecilia was overjoyed at Totodile‘s evolution, and ran a chamomile bath for Croconaw to soak in that evening. He seemed drowsy and nauseous, with an uncharacteristic lack of appetite. The others rested in their Pokeballs as the boys enjoyed a wonderful meal of chicken pie, boiled potatoes and green vegetables. Milo ate greedily, savouring the delicious home cooking and enjoying the company of Cecilia and her incredible hospitality. Cecilia revealed that she had trained to be a Pokemoncenter nurse when she was younger, but gave it up to run a local shop in Azalea.

They spent the evening chatting away; Milo and Jake told Cecilia about the contests they had been in and the times they had spent on the road. They ended the evening with a mug of hot cocoa before the boys headed off to their bed. Milo took the top bunk, and Jake slept beneath him.

“What a day,” Milo said.

“I’m so pleased for Totodile,” came Jake’s voice.

“I think he’ll be a bit heavy for his water gun propulsion technique now,” Milo mused. “We have a lot of work to do.”

“You okay about Scyther?” Jake asked. “He didn’t do so well.”

“We just need to train,” Milo mused.

“Do you think Oscar likes me?” Jake asked, rupturing Milo’s thoughts.

“Yea, he seems to get on with us both really well,” Milo said.

“No…” Jake replied. “I mean, do you think he likes me?”

“Oh, that,” Milo muttered, looking outside. “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem gay.”

“He might be bisexual,” Jake pondered.

“Work your magic on him, Jakey,” Milo said absently, watching as a dark figure walked through the town at night. Had they returned from the pub Maisey mentioned? Was she there now, perhaps?

“You know,” Milo said. “Something doesn’t sit well with me.”

“What?” Jake asked.

“Oscar said he only vaguely remembered me,” Milo pointed out. “But I was in the finals of the Johto league last year.”

“So? Maybe he didn’t watch you compete,” Jake said.

“All the Gym Leaders attend, they watch from the top-box,” Milo said. “He was there, watching the finals, he knows fine well who I am. But he acted as if he wasn’t quite sure.”

“He claimed not to know you when I met him in Ilex Forest,” Jake muttered. “That is weird.”

“We’ll have to talk about it tomorrow,” Milo said, turning over. “Night Jakey.”

“Goodnight,” Jake said, yawning.

*

There was just a single lamp on in Maisey’s living room. While Maisey herself was tucked away in bed, her grandfather, Kurt, was reading something keenly. Oscar entered the room from the kitchen, carrying two glasses of whiskey with him.

“It’s good stuff,” Kurt grumbled, as Oscar set his drink down.

“So you keep telling me,” Oscar replied. “So do you think you can do what I asked tomorrow?”

“Not asking much, are you,” Kurt wheezed, taking a sip of his drink.

“It’s been a bad year, for everyone,” Oscar said insistently, finding the whiskey far too strong for his liking. He set it down. “But you love your craft, and this will help us in the long run.”

“You’re making these two lads out to be royalty,” Kurt said. “Pretty much set out a red carpet, didn’t you.”

“We’re on the beginning of a change,” Oscar said. “But we cannot mess up. If that boy figures out what’s going on too soon, this whole thing goes up in smoke.”

Kurt shook his head as he took another drink.

“Give it a couple more days. Then they’ll be ripe,” Oscar said. “Trust me.”

“Seems that’s what everyone’s doing,” Kurt replied. “Trusting you.”

“I managed to secure that Porygon in Goldenrod City,” Oscar reminded him. “And look how useful that’s been. I said, didn’t I? I said we’d need a Porygon.”

“I’ll draw up some plans tonight,” Kurt said. “And start work in the morning.”

Oscar nodded.

“And then there’ll be two more members for The Apricorn Guild,” he said.






Coming up in Chapter 19...
After settling into life in Azalea town, Milo begins to plan for the Azalea contest as he and Jake work hard to earn a bit of money on the side. After various hear'say and rumour, Milo is convinced Oscar is hiding his true motives, and sets out to expose the ex-gym leader during a night at the local pub. However, Oscar will go as far as he needs to in order to fuel his plan, and will stop at nothing to get what he wants.




Notes

-Anyone seen Muse, the e-zine? We won best quote, whooohoo. If you like any quotes in S-O, do let Samchu know!

-We also have a preview for the Azalea arc which I wrote ages ago, and I have to say most of it is actually wrong now XD. There are hints at townspeople dissapearing, which was an original storyline, but ignore that.

-Also ignore the Jake and Oscar training thing, since that was planned but never took off. It just wasn't working. However, Jake and Oscar do share some shocking scenes next chapter! All very revealling stuff.

-I'm really fond of this particular chapter, as much as I am of Chapter Five, Black Russian (that's the one where Milo and Jake go to the nightclub under The Burnt Tower). Ch5, and Ch18 by comparison, are both introductions to the cities/towns that Milo and Jake spend the next few chapters in. I just think both are quite atmospheric.

-The chapter is named after quite an old, but steadily more popular cocktail favourable with women. It's also because two of the prominent characters in this arc are Cecilia, the landlady and Maisy, the daughter of the famous Pokeball crafter.

-I wrote Cecilia into the fic since it felt that at this point, both the boys need a bit of mothering. She's such a kind hearted, lovely woman, and dotes on Milo and Jake unconditionally. She's providing the boys with a roof over their heads and plenty of warm food, and I think both the boys like being taken care of a bit.

-Incidentally, little is mentioned in the fic about Cecilia's family. This is partly because I couldn't envision her with a family; running her business seemed like a way for her to enjoy company, as she seems to be alone in life. She did mention a son, who is travelling in Hoenn competing in the league there.

-As for a husband? It seemed a bit dramatic for her to be divorced (who would divorce her, anyway? She's so nice), and I wasn't sure if a storyline involving her being widowed would be suitable for the tone of the arc.

-In the end, I decided that Cecilia met her husband, Ted, when she was quite young. Ted had been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and seemed to have a bleak outlook, but Cecilia married him regardless, wishing to be happy with him, no longer how short that happiness may be.

-Ted overcame his illness and the two went on to have a baby boy. But around ten years prior to the current timeline of the fic, Ted became ill again, and did not pull through. Thus, Cecilia was left on her own with a young child.

-I didn't put this in the fic since I felt that an entire subplot about Cecilia's past would taint the current storyline, which is far more focused on Milo and Jake's meetings with Oscar. But I think knowing about Cecilia's past is quite important in understanding her character; someone who will give unconditional love and care to everyone they meet.







Any questions, feedback, comments, please let me know! Another part of The Golden Arc will probably follow on from this, another short segment.

Oh and the next chapter [number 19] is a shocker. You heard it here first!!

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Ok, first up, I completely forgot that Milo had a Magnemite

The Scyther-Scizor-evolution-thing has been done before, but I do like the fact that you're thinking evolution through. I always wondered what evolution would be like in real life, so the fact that it's not just 'go-go-go' in this fic makes me smile.

Maisy seems hot. I wonder how she'll unfold during the Azalea arc..

I completely, but completely, agree with you on Black Russian and Pink Lady. I told you before that the greatest thing about your fic is that you're transforming a gameboygame-world into a 'real-life' world. Now Azelea has pubs, Ecruteak has a nightclub, etc. Very realistic.

The Apricorn Guild, lol. Pokemon freemasons! Very interested..

Oscar! I need more information on him; and his team, but I think i'll perhaps get some more info next chapter.

Croconaw ftw.

To bad the Oscar-Jake training session is off. I would've loved to see Oscar teaching Jake and Milo about Bug pokemon.

Keep it up! Azelea is my favorite arc so far!

[Sike Saner]

Holy crap, Herman was priceless. X3 Seemed like every time he opened his mouth, win came out.

Quite an unexpected reason behind Totod... er, Croconaw's being all crazy-bitey as he was, but in hindsight I can't believe it didn't occur to me beforehand that he was just teething--it makes sense, after all.

Speaking of said pokémon, I rather liked the way his evolution was handled. There was a bit of added realism about the fact that it was shoiwn to have some rough side effect on him--it is, after all, a relatively rapid and fairly dramatic metamorphic process we're talking about here.

Particularly great notes this time around, too. I'm impressed with the amount of thought you've put into Cecilia's character. This fic in general strikes me as something that's really got a lot of thought and care put into it, for that matter. Might be a big part of why it's turned out as nicely as it has so far, I reckon. ^^

Highlights:

“Hey Herman,” Maisy said, winking.

“This lemon is delicious,” the man said, raking his teeth into the zesty flesh of the yellow fruit. Maisy watched his face contort wildly; Herman was a senile old bat.

“Anyone come through yet?” she asked, leaning against the opposite wall.

“Pickles,” he murmured, licking the fruit.

“Thanks,” Maisy replied. Herman’s Slowpoke was chewing its own tail, suckling it slowly. It’s eyes were facing different directions.

“Are your boobs bigger?” Herman asked inquisitively.

“I don’t think so,” Maisy replied, stretching her top over her chest. “Do you?”

Herman dropped his lemon and swung forward on his rocking chair; in one swift motion his face smashed against the counter and he rolled onto the floor, groaning. Maisy chuckled at the perverted old man as the door opened from Ilex Forest.

Again, Herman wins hard. X3 Both with regards to what he says and what he does, actually.

“Lovely to meet you boys,” Maisy said. “Good trip?”

“No.”

A very fitting response. X3 The bolding there was a nice touch, too.

“I want you to be happy on my team, pal,” Milo said. He held a hand out for Totodile.

The moment I read that, I was anticipating, with a sort of sadistic glee, bitiness from Totodile on the horizon...

“But if you keep acting like this, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

Totodile walked over to Milo’s outstretched hand inquisitively. All-too-quick his eye sparkled and he opened wide, sinking his teeth into Milo’s palm.

...And I was not disappointed. X3 Bitiness amuses me. It just does. X3

His fingers twitched and jerked as Totodile screwed his eyes shut; an instant later, the gator fell from his grasp and hit the ground clumsily. Milo, still feeling pain sear through his hand, opened his eyes to see two thick fangs embedded in his palm.

Damn, that's... actually kind of a disturbing image. o.o; Kinda neat in an odd way at the same time, though.

Milo was interrupted when tendrils of sticky silk flew in every direction. Paras’s aim was appalling, but the little bug tried its best to aim for Milo’s hand. After getting a mouthful of the curious silk in his mouth, Milo decided to bend down and allow Paras to work a bit closer to the wound.

...And there's a rather amusing image. XD

“You’ll improve your aim with time,” Jake mused, watching as Paras snipped the end of the silk string. Milo looked at his hand, wrapped in the suspiciously warm string and bound tight.

XD Ew... Nice use of detail there. X3

“He’s evolving!” Jake shouted. The creature grew, with big, spikier ridges bursting along his head and down his spine. Milo saw stronger, bigger claws develop and a much stockier frame, all the while noting the intense heat emanating from the Pokemon.

“Scizor, hold back,” Oscar said quietly.

The evolution seemed to take a few minutes; Milo saw a much more forceful jaw take shape and the light start to soften. Croconaw, as the creature was now called, had a bright blue hue and a royal blue coloured set of ridges, like Totodile. A sash-like pattern across its chest was the same vanilla-tint of the creature’s bottom jaw. The three boys looked at the alligator as he stared at his claws.

“How do you feel?” Milo said. The Pokemon turned and vomited in the grass, groaning.

“Poor guy,” Jake said. “Imagine what it must be like to evolve.”

“It’s like going through puberty in four minutes,” Oscar stated.

Again, nice handling of his evolution. ^^

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Hey! Magnemite is a bit neglected. He comes into his own, though, but Croconaw will take a little bit of the spotlight for the time being. I thought it might be interesting staggering Magnemite's role; he was caught to help Milo steal from Fruit Machines, but it will be a few chapters before Milo can figure out what to do with him.

The evolution thing was just to show that in a sense, Scizor has evolved into a creature that has a superior advantage over Scyther. That's what evolution is, in the strictest sense. Milo won't evolve Scyther just because he's seen how good Oscar's is.

As for Maisy, she's cool. She begins to realise there's a life outside Azalea, but seems conflicted with the secrets she has to keep. Azalea's a bit cult-like. It's all very exciting.

Oscar is a character I'm really fond of; perhaps one of my favourite in the fic so far. He has a lot of layers, and goes to some very dark places to achieve what he wants. Like Morty, Jasmine and Whitney (yes, we're not done with her), Oscar will appear outside of the Azalea arc.




Sike: Evolution - painful! Can you imagine it!? >_< For your entertainment, Herman, the toothless old fool, enters the Azalea Contest. I know for a fact you'll love it XD

I think Milo will keep the Totodile fangs, maybe fashion them into a necklace or something. As for string shot = yaaay, but it is really rank.



Okay guys, next part of The Golden Arc! As you may recall, these side-stories slot into the fic, and will occur between chapters of Show-Off. I have about 5/6 of these planned, but I'm sure it will extend to more.

The Golden Arc
Two
Flirtini

The dew that slid down blades of grass shone with the light of the new day. The sky was cloudless and bright blue; West Johto was much sunnier and warmer than anywhere else on the continent. Walking along the pleasant route, Jasmine felt her gold plimsolls press into the springy grass and noticed how nice it was that she was walking by herself, and not being hurtled through space and time with Morty and his Gengar. Up ahead, she saw MooMoo Farm, and was shocked at the two pink Miltank casually grazing outside.

“Jazz!” came a cry. Jasmine looked to see her father, Mack, running out the front door of the farm, beaming. She smiled back and picked her pace up as she got nearer to her father.

“Hi Daddy,” Jasmine said, embracing Mack tightly.

“How’s my little gemstone doing?” he asked.

“I’m okay, sure,” Jasmine said. “And you?”

“Oh we’re great,” Mack replied. He was wearing his ‘summer sandals’, Jasmine noticed, an old pair that he never got to wear when they lived outside Goldenrod City. He had his shorts on and a loose denim shirt.

“Is everything okay here?” she asked.

“It’s great, we’re so happy,” Mack replied. “We found these two Miltank in the woods near Olivine. Think they must have escaped when the farm was attacked a couple of months ago.”

“Yea, the Friends of Pokemon released them all,” Jasmine said. “I imagine a lot of them won’t survive in the wild. They’ve been fed so much to yield the best milk…they’re a free feast.”

“These two were lucky, then,” Mack said, patting the hide of the smaller cow. Your mother will be so happy to see you. You look so well.”

“Thank you,” Jasmine replied, blushing softly. She had a cotton-candy cardigan over a white tee, and wore a yellow denim skirt. It was best to take advantage of the weather when it was so warm. She followed her father as they walked through the paddocks of MooMoo Farm. There was a Bellossom dancing in the breeze and Jasmine could see an Ivysaur relaxing in the sun.

“Bulbasaur evolved?” she asked.

“The sun’s been doing wonders for her,” Mack said. “All the Pokemon are so happy here. We’re off the beaten track, but we provide freedom for them.”

“So much better than the day-care centre,” Jasmine noted.

“They were tearing the walls down, I swear,” Mack said. “But there are more predators here…”

“I can sort that out with Mr Mitchelson,” Jasmine assured him. “We’ll protect this place; it’s a sanctuary.”

They walked to the house that sat by the farm; it was a squat little cottage but certainly big enough for Jasmine’s parents. With all the barns and enclosures here, all the Pokemon had ample space to stretch their arms, legs or other limbs they may possess, instead of destroying the old house.

Jasmine knocked on the wooden door and it creaked open; as she entered, a smell of cooking wafted to her nose, and her mother cried in delight at the sight of her daughter.

“What a wonderful shock!” said Lily. “Jasmine, honey, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Jasmine replied.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked.

“No thank you,” Jasmine replied.

“Some food? Are you hungry?”

“No, not at all,” Jasmine replied.

“Not even a bite? Come, I can whip up something -”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” Jasmine said, patting her stomach and setting herself down at the round, wooden table. Mack joined her as Lily fussed over a bubbling pot.

“So I take it you’re just dropping by?” Mack asked, sounding sad.

“Yea, brief visit,” Jasmine said, smiling. “Just came to see how you’re getting on here.”

“It’s lovely,” Lily said.

“Mr Mitchelson had it refurbished after the last owners left,” Jasmine explained. “And we thought it would be far more suitable for looking after all of the recovered Pokemon.”

“Are there any more?” Mack asked.

“Yea, I brought some more,” Jasmine admitted, opening her large, canvas tote bag. Inside were a lot of Pokeballs, alarming her parents, but she did not bring them all out. There was Kadabra, Persian, Azurill and Cyndaquil, all recovered from the suitcase that Jasmine and Morty stole.

There were twelve Pokemon overall; Jasmine explained of any special dietary requirements the Pokemon may have and the best way to take care of them. It seemed that some of the Pokemon that had been brought here were beginning to mature, and seemed confident at heading back into the wild.

“Why can’t you return them to their trainers?” Lily asked.

“It’s too dangerous,” Jasmine explained. “Coordinators are being spied on, since they feature so much on TV and contests are very publicised. It will also help the organization trafficking these Pokemon to figure out who or where we are.”

“They could trap you,” Mack muttered.

“This is a very dangerous job, Jazz,” Lily said, in a hushed tone. “You could get hurt!”

“We’re very safe,” Jasmine replied. “Honestly.”

“I’d like to have words with this ’Mitchelson’ character,” Mack said coldly. “Don’t trust him.”

“He’s a good man,” Jasmine told them. “He bought this for you.”

“Well who says we won’t get targeted by these people, eh?” Mack asked. “Housing all these Pokemon?”

“Mr Mitchelson has a solution for that,” Jasmine said, getting up and walking to the door. “Follow me.”

She hitched her tote bag up her arm and walked out of the house. Mack followed, while Lily turned her cooker off and hurriedly followed them. A Wartortle scampered after the group. Outside, Jasmine stopped walking in a large, spacious paddock. She threw her bag into the air, where many Pokeballs spilled out and burst open. Flashes of light filled the skies as creatures began to emerge on the field.

“I thought you said that was all the stolen Pokemon?” Mack asked.

“These guys aren’t technically stolen,” replied Jasmine. As the light died down, and the Pokeballs rolled back to Jasmine’s feet, she stared at the cluster of Stantler before them. Some young, some older and larger, they looked around and seemed satisfied at their surroundings.

“Where did you get them?” Lily asked.

“Actually, the same people who raided the farm were manipulating these beautiful Pokemon,” Jasmine explained. “They can create illusions with their mind. I found them on the outskirts of Ilex Forest and brought them here to protect you.”

“How?” Mack asked.

“You said you were worried about being caught, or targeted,” Jasmine explained. “But that won’t happen. These Stantler are a family; they are empathetically linked to project the same illusions when threatened by a predator. It’s innate to their species. Some species will project horrible images. Others will induce feelings of nausea. Thanks to these Stantler, nobody will be able to get near the Farm without experiencing dizziness and sickness.”

“Wow,” Mack replied.

“They can really do that?” Lily asked. “Does it hurt them?”

“Not at all,” Jasmine said. “They all do it naturally. It’s really quite impressive.”

“What do they eat?” Lily asked.

“A regular diet of oats and grains,” Jasmine said. “But give them a bit of dark chocolate at the start of the day. Gives their brain a boost.”

“You’re such a smart girl,” Lily said fondly. “Your sister would be proud.”

“Have you heard from Eva?” Jasmine asked.

“She visited yesterday,” Lily said. “The Defence Gym is going very well.”

“That’s good,” Jasmine replied.

“Do you have time to go and visit her?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know,” she mused. “I am pretty busy in Goldenrod.”

“That’s a shame,” Lily replied.

“I’ll take some days off next month, come down and visit you guys, maybe?” Jasmine said. She was feeling a pang of guilt at not seeing her sister, and after making sure everything was taken care of at the farm, Jasmine embraced her parents and prepared to leave.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Jasmine said, after kissing her mother on the cheek. “How is the little Pichu?”

“Still cries every night,” Lily said, looking sad. “Misses his trainer, I expect.”

“I thought he might have calmed down by now,” Jasmine admitted. She sighed. “Give me his Pokeball.”

“You’re going to take him?” Mack asked.

“I can’t promise that I’ll find his trainer,” she said. “But I promise I’ll try.”

She knew that the trainer, Jake, was friends with Milo, and was travelling with him. But Mr Mitchelson certainly would not allow for her to take time off scouring the continent, particularly since they had specific rules on returning stolen Pokemon.

Walking along the breezy forest path to Ecruteak City, Jasmine got out her phone and began to dial Morty’s number.

“Hello?” came a voice.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jasmine replied.

“Hi, Me, Morty said.

“Shut up,” she chuckled. “It’s Jasmine.”

“I got that,” he replied. “How did you get on?”

“Yea, fine,” Jasmine said. She decided to keep her possession of Pichu secret, for now. “I’m just leaving there now.”

“I know,” he said.

“How?” Jasmine asked. Suddenly, there was a quick pop, and Morty appeared in front of her, Gengar clutching his shoulder. Jasmine screamed and staggered back, dropping her phone. Morty smirked as he put his own phone away.

“Surprise,” he said sarcastically.

“Why did you do that?!” Jasmine barked. “You son of a bitch!”

“Calm down, I thought you might want to do something this afternoon,” Morty told her. “I’ve not got any work to do. Neither have you.”

“Like what?” Jasmine asked, her heart beating somewhat quicker. “Like something fun?”

“Something fun,” Morty said, nodding.

“Well I…don’t…know what we can do that’s fun,” Jasmine admitted.

“That’s because you never relax,” Morty said. “You work too hard.”

“I do not -”
“Let me take you somewhere exciting,” Morty said.

“Well I think there’s an international food market in Goldenrod until Monday,” Jasmine mused.

“Fuck Goldenrod,” Morty said.

“What?”

“Fuck it. Let’s go somewhere wild. Like the peak of Mt Silver or the beaches of Lilycove.”

“What about Sunnyshore?” Jasmine asked. “That place has an amazing beach.”

“Reckon you can whisk us off to Sunnyshore City?” Morty said to Gengar. He nodded, gripping Morty’s shoulder tightly. Morty extended his hand to Jasmine, who held it tightly.

“I haven’t got any sandals,” she said quietly. Morty stared into her eyes and smiled.

“We’ll get you some sandals,” he assured her. Once again, butterflies burst into life within Jasmine’s stomach. She smiled weakly as she felt the ground disappear beneath her and the light of the sunny day shrivel away. All that stayed and all that was constant was Morty’s warm hand gripping her own.

She almost didn’t want to arrive in Sunnyshore.



Notes
-Ok so I think the Latias/Os thing was kinda sweet, like Morty and Jasmine?
-Remember Morty is going out with Rochelle, the Umbreon Eevee sister. That may be a problem.
-A scene very similar to this nearly made it into Ch15; Jasmine was visiting her parents in their old house (the day care center) and explained that she had bought them MooMoo Farm so they can keep looking after rescued Pokemon.
-The idea of Jasmine's parents being the daycare people was taken from the Pokemon Special Manga. Jasmine also has two Togetic in the manga, and I thought they were quite suiting, so I've given her one in this fic, too.
-We will see more of her team, but I see her having Steelix, Empoleon, a couple Magneton, a lot of Magnemite, and a Togetic.
-And now, Pichu.
-She will try and reunite Pichu with Jake during the next part of the fic, but it will be difficult.
-The Golden Arc does cross over with Show-Off chapters in a few interesting ways.
-It was also kinda useful being able to have Jasmine rescue those Stantler and use them to help cloak the sanctuary she has set up. I thought that gave a lot of closure.



Thanks for reading guys!

[Chris 2.1]

I'm alive!

Sorry for so few updates. Next chapter will be up soon. It's kinda been helpful since Ch19 takes place a few days after Ch18 so Milo and Jake are kinda settled into Azalea.

Just planning some future things out. It's all very exciting! The Azalea arc ends in the usual Show-Off manner of frantic action-packed violence. Yaaaaay

And Jake has been interviewed for the e-zine, so keep an eye out! He dishes on some very exciting things...

Things to look forward to:

-Gina, Dior, Mia all appear in upcoming chapters
-Jake befriends a suicidal fat girl
-Medicham suffers reprecussions from fighting Alakazam in Goldenrod. What happens when a psychic Pokemon has a headache?
-Milo and Jake expirience more team-changes.
-Road trip!
-One of the boys has to make a huge sacrifice for the greater good.
-The Membership Card comes back into play.
-Professors Oak and Elm appear in the fic, and both are a little bit different to their game counterparts....

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Cool new teasers. Can't wait.

[PancaKe]

Catch up finished! So I'm excited that there are some new chapters up, I'm liking the developments, but feeling a bit brain fried so forgive the lame reply to your hard work! I'm still keen to see what happens with Oscar and Maisy and Milo and Jake. I think that Maisy and Milo won't happen... Milo's too smart. Unless he gets really drunk... Oscar and Milo might happen though... lol. I hope that Jake and Oscar happen, and then Milo will realise how jealous he is etc etc...

And i'm enjoying the Golden Arc. they feel much shorter and that's probably because they are one scene each, instead of several. Its an intersting side story, and it actually makes Mr Mitchellson seem like the good guy after all...

[Chris 2.1]

Pancake: Hey! Nice to see you here again. Milo and Maisy you say? Well Milo is a red blooded male; I'm sure a few drinks will guide him to Maisy's bedroom. Jake and Oscar is an exciting thought...but is Oscar gay? Ch19 will point you in the right direction As for Oscar and Milo...Oscar certainly seems invested in Milo, but to what extent?

I'm being uuber nice and putting this chap up now because (a) you guys have all been very patient and (b) I proofread it again and got a bit excited!

To me, it's a pretty cool chapter. It's a bit crazy, lots going on, but at the same time, is a little grounded. I'm almost finished writing Chapter 20.

Show-Off
-XIX-
Dr. Pepper

The sun rose early that morning, rousing Oscar from his sleep. Opening his window to look at the day ahead, the ex-gym leader saw the curtains open in Cecilia Higgins kitchen across the road; she was obviously preparing breakfast for Milo and Jake, which made Oscar smile. He put on a dark green polo shirt and khaki shorts, looking around his room for a moment. There were photographs of his gym, some of his bug Pokemon, and even pictures from Gym battles he had. A Hive Badge was pinned into the headboard of his bed. He sighed.

Oscar brushed his teeth in his bathroom, wondering about the day ahead. In truth, he felt lost; awash among everything that had to fall into place within such a small space of time. Spitting into the sink, he rose up and stared at himself in the mirror. His purple hair was getting wild and untamed, but he hadn’t time to sort it out.

It was a big day - they all seemed important at the moment. Oscar got out his phone as he made his way down the stairs, dialling Maisy’s number as he went. After ringing for some time, Oscar finally got through, waiting impatiently in his kitchen. The phone was pressed to his ear so firmly that the side of his head ached.

“Hello?” came the voice.

“Still in bed?” Oscar asked.

“You know I am, it’s like seven in the morning you dick,” she groaned. “What do you want?”

“How is everything going with Milo?” he asked.

“Fine!” Maisy said. “We’ve been chatting the last couple of days. He seems cool.”

“Have you sealed the deal?”

There was an empty laugh.

“This is why I never dated you, Oscar. You are as discrete as an atomic bomb.”

“Answer the question,” Oscar replied firmly, gripping the phone.

“No, I have not,” Maisy said airily. “But I think he’s going to The Mucky Pup tonight.”

“Ply him with drink,” Oscar said. “Don’t shag him at Cecilia’s house, though; that’s bad etiquette.”

“We’re bringing etiquette into it now, are we?” Maisy said dryly.

“Those boys need a reason to stick around after the contest,” Oscar said. “Until we can initiate them into The Guild.”

“They’re running out of cash,” Maisy said. “So once they can’t afford to stick around, they’ll go, regardless of any commitments to The Guild.”

“I’ll speak to Eli,” Oscar replied.

“Eli hates you,” Maisy replied.

“I think everyone does, a little bit,” Oscar replied.

“What about Milo’s friend?” Maisy asked.

“I’ll take care of him,” Oscar said.

“You will?” Maisy said, sounding shocked. “Erm -”

“Keep your eyes on Milo,” Oscar replied. “I’ll deal with Jake.”

“Fine,” Maisy said. “Let me go back to bed.”

“As you wish,” Oscar replied, hanging up. He set his phone down and looked around his living room; on the walls were numerous framed photographs of some Azalea townspeople; there was a picture of him next to Arnold, the old Azalea Gym Leader, and some of the townspeople at their annual summer photograph. There were also numerous pictures of Maisy strewn across the walls, which Oscar looked at with purpose.

“Right,” he breathed. “Plenty to do…”

*

Meanwhile, Milo and Jake were battling atop a gentle hill overlooking Azalea town. Milo’s recently evolved Croconaw leapt and snapped towards Jake’s Wingull, who was using its small stature to sweep and evade any attacks. Over the last couple of days, Croconaw had gotten use to his bulkier body, and was actually becoming agile; as Wingull pulled up to evade a well executed metal claw, Croconaw pounced up and tackled the bird with the full weight of his body.

“Good work,” Milo said, as Croconaw landed. He growled throatily. Wingull screeched and curved towards his trainer, who looked eager to continue the battle. Milo had been trying to train all of his team, but Magnemite seemed distracted by any electrical application and was becoming difficult to tame.

“Wingull, go for a water strike!” Jake said. He had developed a clever combination of air cutter and water gun, which caused Wingull to tuck his wings in, spin like a corkscrew through the air and blast a jet of water at the foe. As the gull sped through the air, Croconaw leapt to the side and blasted a flawless ice beam; it sparkled and gleamed as the attack soared at Wingull.

“Dodge!” Jake yelled. Wingull pulled up and avoided it, but Milo could not help but admire the size, precision and beauty of the ice beam attack. It was perfect, and all the work he had put in with Totodile in Ecruteak City sped through Milo’s mind.

“Croconaw, fire a water gun into the ground,” Milo said. Croconaw aimed down and fired off an impressive foamy blast of water; it hit the ground but the force alone did not propel him through the air like it once did. Wingull sped along and slashed across Croconaw’s side, causing him irritation.

“Wingull! Use a whirlwind!” Jake said. Wingull turned and flapped his wings wildly; a gust whipped up and blasted across the field.

“Croconaw!” Milo yelled. His Pokemon clenched his fists and stretched his neck; a gushing geyster blasted from beneath him, encasing the alligator in a torpedo of water. Speeding up through the air, Croconaw arched down past the whirlwind and tackled into the gull, hurtling him into the ground.

“Aqua jet!” Jake cried, recognising the attack from Gina Gourmante’s Seel. “Oh - Wingull!”

He ran to his Pokemon, while Milo looked at Croconaw, who was staring at his hands. Maybe all the water-gun propulsion developed into this more controlled, executed attack. Turning to his trainer, Croconaw clenched his fists and let another burst of water engulf him, propelling him into the air and back towards Milo.

“He’s getting really good,” Milo said, smiling as water rained down on him. Croconaw landed, tumbling down the hill slightly but grinning at Milo. Jake let Wingull rest for a while, and as he was about to send out Ditto to help, a figure appeared at the crest of the hill.

“Cool Croconaw,” she said. The girl had short spiky hair, a pair of cargo jeans on and a skull-print vest. She looked a bit like a pirate, gripping a Pokeball in her hand.

“Thanks,” Milo said, running his hand along his Pokemon’s head.

“You new in town?” she asked.

“Been here for a couple of days,” Milo said.

“Names Nancy,” she said, a hand on her hip.

“Milo,” he replied.

“Jake!” cried the stylist, Wingull perched on his head.

“Fancy a battle?” Nancy said. “I’m competing in the Azalea Contest tomorrow.”

“Same,” Milo said. “Croconaw, you feeling good?”

Croconaw grunted.

“Bring it on Nancy,” Milo said.

“I choose Machoke!” she yelled, throwing the ball into the air. Bursting from the light, leaping into action was a huge Pokemon the size of Milo. With grey-tinged skin and hulking muscles, Machoke gave a deep roar, flexing his arms and grinning at Croconaw.

“Oooh!” Jake squealed.

“Jake, don’t say what I know you’re thinking,” Milo said.

“Machoke! Go in for a mega punch!” Nancy shouted. Machoke sprinted across the hill at Croconaw, a fist throbbing with energy.

“Aqua jet!” Milo shouted. Croconaw burst into the air as a geyser of water engulfed him; he sped out of the way of the punch, spinning and sending spirals of water shooting around. Croconaw landed and turned to face Machoke. Machoke looked as a shimmering ice beam flew through the air and struck him in the chest. The muscular Pokemon roared in anger; ice crystallised across his chest.

“Good job!” Milo said. “Go in for a metal claw!”

Claws shimmering with a metallic sheen, Croconaw got on all fours and raced across the arena. Machoke watched, bewildered at the ice across his chest, and swung a foot as Croconaw got near. He connected with Croconaw’s jaw, sending him flying back.

“Use a fire punch,” Nancy said. Machoke nodded and clenched his fists, furrowing his brow and concentrating. Getting up, Croconaw dusted himself down and watched as both of Machoke’s fists burst into flame; the fire licked his fingers and swathed around his wrists as he concentrated hard.

Next, Machoke spread his fists out and placed both hands directly on the plates of ice covering his chest. Steam coiled up from Machoke as a hissing sound filled the air; Croconaw waited for the right time to strike. Machoke sighed in satisfaction, the heat from his hands melting the ice Croconaw had created.

“Croconaw tackle!” Milo yelled. On all fours, Croconaw ran across the field at some speed. He leapt up and smashed into Machoke, who toppled over backwards effortlessly. As he hit the ground, he swung a foot at Croconaw, who responded by sinking his jagged fangs into Machoke’s flesh. The muscled Pokemon gave a loud, human-like roar.

He shook his leg wildly, but Croconaw was lodged on tight; icy crystals spread across Machoke’s leg, causing panic to flash upon the creature’s face. Clenching his fist, Machoke swung a punch at Croconaw, striking the alligator in the jaw but not dislodging the Pokemon.

“Clench!” Milo shouted.

“Machoke!” Nancy said. “Thunderpunch!”

Gripping his fingers into solid fists, Machoke gave a grunt. Sparks danced around his fists, crackling, fizzling and flashing. Croconaw saw this, clamped onto Machoke’s leg, and opened his jaws to get off the Pokemon and avoid the electric attack. Unfortunately he was not quick enough; Machoke slugged him in the jaw and Croconaw staggered back angrily.

Leaping up, and applying as little pressure on his leg as possible, Machoke swung a punch, smacking Croconaw once again. The alligator fired a water gun and struck Machoke square in the chest, pushing him back slightly. Milo was impressed with the power behind the attack.

“Machoke block it!” Nancy cried. Machoke held both his hands up and they pressed against the thick jet of water; there were splashes of water shooting all around, but Machoke stood his ground, applying all his strength against the intense water attack. Milo could see the intense concentration on the Pokemon’s face; it was so human-like; its fingers and toes resembled Milo’s more than he would like to admit.

“Rolling kick!” Nancy shouted. Machoke heard the command and dived to the ground, under the water gun’s aim; rolling to the side, Machoke swung a foot up and kicked Croconaw in the gut. Following the heavy thud sound (Milo was reminded of hitting a punching bag), Croconaw fell back, but his claws soon swathed in silver and he leapt forward instinctively.

Machoke blocked the first metal claw, but Croconaw was relentless; his claws whizzed left and right, slashing against the Pokemon’s skin. Attempting to avoid the onslaught of blade-like swipes, Machoke leapt back, but did so with haste; his left foot twisted as he leapt, causing him to roar in agony and clutch his wound.

“Aqua jet!” Milo said. Claws still glowing a bright, opulent silver, Croconaw held his arms out as a jet of water burst from the ground and encased him. As he soared into the air, his silvery claws let off a bright glow around the body of water, causing Jake to clasp his hands together and gasp softly. Milo thought the attack looked amazing, and wondered about the Azalea contest as Croconaw smashed into the injured Machoke.

“Good work!” Milo cried.

“His wound is looking bad,” Nancy murmured, getting a Pokeball out. “Machoke, return.”

“Just when it was getting exciting,” Milo said airily, rolling his eyes. Croconaw was swiping the air with metal claw, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. His execution over his attacks was amazing; Milo just needed a finishing touch before he would have an impressive appeal on his hands.

“Well, Machoke might get gangrene,” Nancy said matter-of-factly.

“Another?” Milo said, raising his eyebrows. Nancy surveyed him for a moment, minimising her Machoke’s Pokeball and tucking it away.

“Sure,” she said. As she got a Pokeball out, a voice called out from the other side of the hill.

“Milo!”

Milo recognised the voice, turning to see Sylvester Stallong appear on the crest of the hill. He had ruffled, messy black hair, with a big spiky fringe and thick eyebrows. He wore a red checked shirt and loose jeans, and did not look particularly happy.

“Hey!” Milo said. “Sylvester!”

“Hey Nancy,” Sylvester murmured.

“Hey Sylvester,” she replied, looking tense.

“Soooo, Syl,” Jake mused, trying to be friendly. “…Vester.”

“Huh?” he said, confused.

“I’m trying to think of a casual nickname,” Jake said. “Vester is cool.”

“Vester is stupid, you’re stupid,” Sylvester snapped. “Milo, I heard you need a bit of extra cash.”

“Who said that?” Milo asked.

“Cecilia,” Sylvester replied. “She said you can’t afford many more nights at her place, and I wanted to help out.”

“Oh cool, well, we need about sixty quid,” Milo said, beaming at the boy.

“I’m not giving you money you senseless pleb,” Sylvester replied. “I’m going to take you into the woods for a few hours.”

“Ohh, you want Jake for that,” Milo said, jerking his thumb. “He loves it.”

“It’s true,” Jake mused. “But I don’t like the sound of this.”

“NO!” snapped Sylvester. “We need some more charcoal for the business, and I know you have a Scyther. I wanted you to come and help me cut down some wood, not take you to the woods for…sexy times.”

“Did you just say sexy times?” Milo said, smirking. “Jake! He called it -”

“I know! Sexy times!” Jake laughed.

“Stop being so immature!” Sylvester said hotly. “I’m trying to do you guys a favour.”

“Sorry Vester,” Milo replied, patting him on the shoulder. “We’re just having a laugh.”

“Oh,” Sylvester replied, sounding confused. “Right.”

“We’d love to help out,” Jake said. Sylvester looked shocked at Jake’s comment; Milo assumed Sylvester did not intend Jake to join them. “I have a Paras, if that helps.”

“That’s no help whatsoever,” Sylvester admitted. “But come along.”

“Hey Nancy, we’ll have a spar later,” Milo said, as they made their way to Ilex Forest.

“You mean sexy times?” Nancy said, giggling. Milo and Jake soon burst into laughter, grinning at their joke. They apologised to Sylvester, who was bright red with embarrassment as he marched the two on towards the forest. With Croconaw at his side, Milo looked forward to an afternoon in the woods. It would be great to earn a bit of money so that they could stay in Azalea for longer.

As the boys walked across Azalea Town, Oscar watched from the window of his house. He furrowed his brow at Nancy, who was looking at her Machoke’s Pokeball with angst.

*

“Charcoal trees are like buses,” Sylvester said proudly, walking ahead of the two boys. His pace was supercharged, efficient; like he had an important paper to deliver to his boss. Milo assumed he was never this fast-paced under normal circumstances.

“Buses?” Jake asked.

“You wait a long time for one…and then two appear at the same time,” Sylvester said, spinning on the spot and wearing a synthetic grin. “Huh? Get it?”

“I do!” Jake said sympathetically. “But…I just…don’t want to laugh about it.”

“I’m trying to be light hearted,” Sylvester said.

“It’s not working,” Milo said, resting a few paces behind them.

“Well at least I can walk quickly,” Sylvester said.

“Touché,” Milo replied sarcastically.

“Bless you,” came Sylvester’s reply.

“So! Sylvester,” Jake said. “Your family run the charcoal business?”

“Yea, it’s been in the Stallong family for generations,” Sylvester told him. “It’s funny. People think charcoal is really boring, and uninteresting.”

“You don’t say?” Milo said.

“I know, right!” Sylvester said. “But it’s so cool. Look, here’s a good tree here.”

He stood by a large, thick tree. Were it not for the gangly man slapping it and rubbing the bark with an odd eroticism, the tree was no different from any other in the forest. Jake stared at it with utter confusion. He was concentrating so hard, Milo wondered if Jake thought he would see a picture or a pattern if he squinted at the right angle.

“Now I know what you’re thinking,” Sylvester said. “The tree is a dark shade of nutmeg.”

“Uh huh,” said Milo.

“And I said before that we’re looking for more of a hazlenut,” Sylvester said teasingly. “But in actuality, you can tell this wood would make good charcoal by the scent of the sap excreted from the bark. Come over here and look.”

What followed was a freakish mix of sap-sniffing, bark stroking an excrement-spotting. Apparently since Weedle favoured the wood that was perfect for charcoal, looking for Weedle droppings was crucial to determine how good the tree was for making charcoal. Jake’s nose wrinkled as he knelt in the grass, looking for signs that a Weedle had been in the area. Sylvester would swoop over them like an obsessive bat, noting that the droppings they found belonged to a Caterpie or Wurmple, and thus the trees were not suitable. He would sometimes tell them scintillating tales of work-gone-wrong; a man that worked for his father once got his tie caught in a piece of machinery that pulled him towards spinning blades. Unfortunately, as the minutes crept to hours, the stories he told seemed very similar. One tale was about a man whose ponytail got caught in a piece of machinery; luckily he was able to wrench himself free, but pulled off portions of his scalp. Another was about a huge blue dog that visited the family workshop late one night; Sylvester’s father apparently captured the water Pokemon but opted to let it roam free, putting out fires. Milo doubted that any of the stories were actually true; Sylvester barely seemed to believe them himself.

Once they found a suitable tree, the boys would cut it down. Milo found this an excellent excuse to train Scyther; he sliced and snipped expertly, sometimes flying into the air and trimming the excess foliage from the tree trunk. Jake had Paras use string shot between two nearby trees to create a long, stretchy sling that the tree would fall back into, preventing it from crashing to the forest floor. Sylvester used his Sandslash to slice the tree up into smaller chunks, while Scyther cut the chunks into hearty-sized batons.

“I kind of like this hard work,” Milo said. He had taken his shirt off after getting hot; Sylvester unbuttoned his checked shirt and wiped his forehead for the same reasons. The air was thick and sticky; Milo stared at the leafy canopy overhead and thought how nice the Ilex Forest actually was now that he wasn’t fighting off hallucinations and hippies. Jake was carrying the batons of wood and loading them up into a wooden cart that Sylvester had brought along. One of the Pokemon would pull the cart back to Azalea, probably Sylvester’s Cacturne.

“I love Azalea,” Jake admitted. “Everyone’s so friendly. It’s wonderful.”

“Maisy’s cool,” Milo said, looking for a reaction from Sylvester.

“Oh yea, she likes you,” Sylvester mused, looking for a suitable tree. His hand traced a nearby tree but he instantly pulled it away, almost as if he received an electric shock; it was clearly not suitable.

“Seriously?” Milo said, smirking. Jake rolled his eyes at the news.

“Sylvester, does Oscar like me?” the stylist asked. Sylvester pulled a face at the news; he looked as he had just bitten into a lemon.

“I don’t think Oscar’s gay,” he admitted.

“Oh,” Jake said, his face sinking. “Okay.”

“I wouldn’t get close to Oscar anyway, if I were you,” Sylvester said cryptically. Milo looked across at him as Sylvester carried on looking for a suitable tree, apparently he believed that those words were telling enough. Jake seemed too absorbed in his own little world to listen to what Sylvester said.

“What do you mean?” Milo said, dropping his voice. “Oscar seems cool.”

“He’s a dirty, manipulative little liar,” Sylvester whispered coldly.

“Why?” Milo said. “Why do you say that?”

Sylvester was about to speak when footsteps crunching on twigs told them someone was approaching. Turning on the spot, Milo looked to see a familiar, shaggy head of purple hair come towards them. As if on cue, Oscar paced through the forest eagerly, hitching a backpack further up. He beamed as he saw the trio. Sylvester looked pale.

“Hi guys!” he cried. “Kurt said you guys were off to cut some charcoal. Thought I’d see how you’re doing!”

“Hey man,” Milo murmured, once again finding his forehead soaked in sweat. Jake eyed Oscar with suspicion, walking around the side of the cart and loading more wood.

“How’s it going Sylvester?” Oscar said warmly.

“Fine, thanks,” Sylvester replied. “We’re doing fine.”

“How’s Croconaw doing, Milo?” Oscar asked.

“Yea, he’s good, he just got the hang of aqua jet, so he’s getting pretty strong,” Milo said.

“Glad to hear it,” Oscar replied. “I just caught a Heracross back there in the woods. It’s pretty cool.”

“Heracross? Wow!” Jake said keenly. Oscar did not seem to hear him.

“Listen,” he said suddenly, looking at Sylvester. “There’s some berries back here I came across. Big, orange, quite plump. I don’t think I’ve seen them growing in the forest before. Can you come and have a look at them for me?”

Sylvester looked stupefied.

“I know you’re a real whiz on plants and the like,” Oscar said, smiling.

“Sure,” Sylvester said. “Be back in a second guys. Don’t cut any more trees down; just slice up the one that’s on the ground.”

“No problem,” Milo said.

Oscar beckoned Sylvester to join him, and the boy reluctantly walked over. Milo thought the situation seemed tense, but turned to the tree that they had just cut down and ordered Scyther to begin slicing it into thick wheels of wood. Jake scratched Paras’s back, but the Pokemon excitedly released a powder into the air; the boy ran over to where Milo was urgently as Oscar and Sylvester’s voices died down.

“You never collected berries,” Sylvester scoffed, keeping his voice low as they walked away from Milo and Jake.

“You never speak ill of me to visitors,” Oscar said quickly. His husky words were coated in sugary etiquette; he smiled at Sylvester as he said them. Sylvester stared at him quizzically, causing Oscar to smile.

“I heard everything,” he said flatly.

“You -”

“Don’t think you can take people out of the village and feed them lies without me knowing,” Oscar continued, the politeness gone from his words. Sylvester saw Scizor stepping out from the overgrowth and standing by his trainers side threateningly.

“I did not lie,” Sylvester stammered.

“I’m a manipulator, am I?” Oscar asked. “A liar? Dirty?”

“You are,” Sylvester said. “All of those things.”

“You may not be in The Guild anymore, but both of your parents are,” Oscar said. “The proprietors of the family business. They see my vision and support it; they support me. You’re going to give Milo and Jake ample money for their work today, because they need to stay with us a little bit longer.”

“This is wrong,” Sylvester replied. He stayed close to the large tree trunk, Scizor standing before him.

“Why is it wrong?” Oscar asked, standing right in front of Sylvester.

“It’s against the law,” Sylvester rasped.

“Is it?” Oscar asked.

“I know you’ll go further than you told The Guild,” Sylvester told him. “You’re mad.”

“I’m powerful, and I’m wise,” Oscar informed him He knelt down and scooped up soil in his hands; wriggling his fingers, he let the cold earth crumble to the ground again. Sylvester’s eyes were locked onto him, observing every move with nervousness.

Standing, Oscar approached Sylvester and smeared dirt across his face. Sylvester did nothing to combat the boy; perhaps it was because he was afraid of Oscar, or perhaps it was the crimson Pokemon snapping its claws nearby. Sylvester shook as Oscar pressed his fingers into the boy’s cheek with force; his face stung as the smell of dirt wafted to his nose. He could see Scizor watching from the corner of the clearing, with a pair of Beedrill and a Heracross also emerging from the overgrowth.

Rubbing the dirt across the boy‘s neck and face, Oscar used his forefinger and thumb to rub soil into strands of Sylvester‘s hair. Oscar stood back, admiring his work.

“Look who’s dirty,” he said, smiling. Sylvester looked horrified.

“Don’t feed lies to those boys,” Oscar said coldly. “The future of our town depends on it.

“Now go back to them and finish the job I gave you.”

*

“And to finish up…home made blackberry crumble!” Cecilia said brightly, bringing the warm pudding into the dining room.

Milo and Jake watched as she set the pie down on the table, before rushing back into the kitchen to get the cream. The boys had worked with Sylvester for the rest of the afternoon and earned much more than they had expected. Doing some hard grafting had felt really good; Milo had showered and changed after he got in and felt so fit, so healthy, and Cecilia’s hearty meals helped immensely.

“That casserole was fantastic, Cecilia,” Jake said, patting his stomach.

“It’s an old recipe my mother gave me,” Cecilia told him, smiling as she set the cream down. “I’m glad you enjoyed it!”

“We’ve got enough money for a couple more nights,” Milo told her, as he helped himself to the pie. “Which is awesome.”

“It certainly is,” Cecilia replied. “What did you make of Sylvester?”

“Funny,” Jake said, smirking. Milo mouthed ‘sexy times’ to him across the table, causing him to burst out laughing. Cecilia looked at them with some confusion, but sighed and cut her own portion of the pie.

“He seems a bit…socially inept?” Milo said.

“Hmm, yes, that’s true,” Cecilia said, pouring cream over her pudding. “Poor thing. His parents are a bit similar. Sylvester used to be friends with my son, but you know how it is. Boys often drift apart.”

“What do you think of Oscar?” Milo asked Cecilia suddenly. He had the question on his mind all afternoon, and hadn’t found a subtle way to broach the subject. Jake swallowed his mouthful and watched Cecilia’s kind face turn to one of thoughtfulness and trepidation.

“Oscar?” she asked, taking a sip of wine.

“The one and only,” Milo replied.

“He’s a lovely boy,” Cecilia said, nodding and giving a weak smile. “Yes, lovely boy.”

Milo was not satisfied with the answer, but there was a certain crispness in Cecilia’s voice that suggested she would not budge on the matter, nor would she elaborate. Taking a deep breath, Milo nodded and smiled in a mirror of Cecilia’s own body language. He reached for his wine and took a sip.

“So, Cecilia, erm, I heard something about The Mucky Pup tonight?” Jake said.

“Oh, yes, we always go on a Tuesday,” Cecilia said warmly. “I’ll just have a lime and soda, of course. I only drink wine for the health benefits. Everyone goes there, it really is a lovely atmosphere.”

“Is Maisy going?” Jake asked her, smirking at Milo.

“I imagine so,” Cecilia replied. “Everyone usually turns up for at least one drink.”

“What about Oscar?” Milo asked, nonplussed that Maisy would be there tonight

“I should think so,” Cecilia said airily.

“Perfect,” Milo replied, smiling. Cecilia nodded and took another mouthful of her pudding, but Jake stared at Milo with caution, unable to quite decipher what was going on in his head.

*

Later that evening, the boys were getting ready for their night at The Mucky Pup. Milo had his loose worker jeans on and paired them with his college hoody; it had the Blackthorn Academy crest on the front, and was very warm and insulating. He slipped his feet into his dirty trainers, recalling the day he purchased them in Goldenrod, pearly-white and perfect. They looked disgusting now. Jake was tying his skull and crossbones scarf around his neck; seeing it reminded Milo of the bug-catching contest and the strange membership card he had won.

“So, looking forward to seeing Maisy tonight?” Jake said, brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

“Sure,” Milo replied.

“And Oscar?”

“Yep,” Milo replied. “Very.”

“Can I ask why?” Jake asked, his head poking around the corner.

“Because I’m not quite sure he’s the full shilling,” Milo said. “He didn’t recognise me from the finals of the Johto League…he turns up in the forest as soon as Sylvester said his name, and I can’t quite understand if people love him or hate him.”

“So?” Jake said.

“I want answers,” Milo replied, slipping his wallet into his pocket. “And people loosen their tongue when they drink. Hell even if I get some more out of Sylvester tonight, it’ll be worth it. Something’s not right.”

“It seems a bit suspicious, I admit,” Jake said, before gasping in shock. He saw a grey hair in his left eyebrow and his eyes widened with fright. “I…er…OH GOD!”

“What?” Milo said, from the bedroom. “You okay?”

“Yes! Oh yes, I’m f-fine, I’ve just drawn a - oh, what do you say when you draw a - BLANK! Yes, yes, I’m fine,” he stammered, getting tweezers from his wash bag.

“So I’m just thinking, if we have a few drinks, maybe some of the people will loosen up a bit,” Milo said. “But I know you’ve been worried about money…”

Jake said nothing, his hand shaking as the tweezers sailed closer to his wiry grey hair.

“Jake?” Milo shouted.

“Absolutely!” Jake cried nervously. The tweezer claws pinched the rogue hair and it was yanked out in one swift motion. Biting his lip, the stylist muffled his squeal as the sudden, intense pain in his eyebrow caused him to leap up and down.

“So I figure if we scrape a few pennies together, we can afford to get a couple drinks in. We need to get someone talking,” Milo continued, unaware of the situation Jake was in as he saw his eyebrow throb red.

“Yea, that’s whatever you were talking about for you,” Jake mused, clicking his tongue. He walked back out of the bathroom, smiling at Milo, finally ready for their night out. Jake’s grey v-neck t-shirt went well with the black piratey scarf; the way Jake mixed the items in his wardrobe to create entirely different looks was really quite clever. He wore dark skinny jeans and plimsolls.

As the boys came downstairs, Cecilia was putting some earrings in, looking into the mirror in the hall. Milo wolf-whistled at her; she had a wine-coloured dress on with a black cropped cardigan over the top. As she sprayed a cloud of perfume into the air, walking proudly towards it and twirling elegantly, Milo finally understood how much she must look forward to these nights in the pub. She worked so hard on her house and looking after her guests, even drinking soda water was a thrill for her.

“Do they play good music at The Mucky Pup?” Jake asked Cecilia. They walked out of the house and Cecilia locked the door behind her; the Azalea evening air was crisp and delicious in Milo’s lungs. Taking a second deep breath, he looked around, seeing many Slowpoke lean against walls, posts and doors.

“Oh yes,” Cecilia said, clutching her handbag tightly. “A bit of everything really. Eli, the owner, will put anything on.”

They walked through the town, passing the newly constructed Contest Hall. Cecilia reminded Milo that the contest was in the morning, and he thought about how he could improve Croconaw’s aqua jet appeal in order to do well enough to win. He thought about the two ribbons he had already won; Ecruteak and Goldenrod. Could he get a third in Azalea?

“How do you feel about the contest, Milo?” Cecilia asked.

“Yea, not bad,” Milo said airily. Jake gave him a sharp look, one that could speak volumes. Milo ignored him and smiled at Cecilia.

“Well Eli said that there are a couple of coordinators staying above the pub,” Cecilia told them. “And I’ve been known to compete myself.”

“Really?” Jake said, beaming.

“Oh yes,” she said, her eyes glazed with nostalgia. “I wanted to be a coordinator for years when I was younger. I compete every now and then, never too seriously, of course, since I haven’t a lot of spare time.”

“I’ll see you on the stage,” Milo replied.

“How exciting!” Cecilia cried, clapping her hands.

They continued on through the slightly chilly air that evening, going past the Stallong household. It was a very large house, larger than most, with a handsome garden and picket fence. Milo assumed that they had built a lot of the house themselves; they seemed like a hardworking family, proud and hands-on.

Soon, the three arrived at The Mucky Pup. It was an ancient building, with a swinging sign above the door depicting a Poochyena covered in mud and dirt. It was rolling on the ground, fat tongue lolling out the side of its mouth. The windows looked grimy and the door large and old; Cecilia gripped the paw-shaped handle and wrenched the door open.

A blast of heat met them as they walked into the pub; Milo saw a cluster of faces sitting around squat, mismatched tables. There was a roaring fireplace in the corner of the pub; with plenty of logs stacked up within, flames crackled and sizzled teasingly.

“Cecilia!” came a cry. A gruff, bearded man behind the bar shouted out to the group as they entered; he was wearing a western-style shirt with a waistcoat loosely slung over the top, and looked around the age of Milo’s father. He seemed friendly, beckoning Cecilia over as he poured her a drink.

“Good evening, Eli,” Cecilia said fondly. “These are my lodgers. Milo and Jake.”

“Pleasure,” Jake said, holding his hand out to shake. Eli shook Jake’s hand with a firm, empowering grip; as Jake’s slender fingers were crushed beneath Eli’s thicker, bigger hand, Milo could see a tear in the boy’s eye.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, nodding. Milo held his hand out as Eli turned to greet him; he stared into the man’s confident gaze and gripped the hand tightly. Determined that his fingers would not crumble under Eli’s handshake, Milo clenched his hand and smiled at the man.

“Now there’s a firm handshake,” Eli said, a smile flickering across his face. Jake scratched behind his ear casually, looking envious. “Welcome to the bar, boys.”

“Nice place you got,” Milo noted, looking around. Maisey was with a frumpy looking man that must be her grandfather, Kurt. She waved from her table, eyeing Milo with intent. A Linoone was curled up by the fireplace, snoozing softly. Perhaps it belonged to Eli.

“Thanks,” Eli said, plopping a wedge of lime in Cecilia’s drink. “What’ll it be, Milo?”

Milo scanned the bar briefly; Jake was looking around, dismayed at the lack of a cocktail menu in this old fashioned watering hole.

“I’ll take a Blackthorn Bush,” Milo said, pointing to the cask ale. Nodding, Eli got a clean glass and began pouring the thick, creamy ale from the tap. Jake turned his nose at the drink.

“You like the Blackthorn ales, do you?” Eli asked.

“Yea, sure,” Milo replied. “Went to boarding school in Blackthorn. Used to sneak out to the pubs all the time.”

Eli chuckled, pulling the tap back up and planting the hearty drink down on the bar.

“Cianwood has some good ales; we stock a few here,” he said, jabbing his thumb behind him. “But I agree. Blackthorn is the best. You must be a smart kid, educated at that Blackthorn academy.”

“I’m more street smart than book smart,” Milo replied.

“That’s all you need, I find,” Eli told him. “I might look like a reputable wise old man, but I dropped out of school at fifteen. Started helping my old man at the bar, and been working here ever since.”

“No way,” Milo said, raising his eyebrows. The more time he spent in Azalea, the more it was evident that the people were true hard workers. They took family trades and put all their blood, sweat and tears into them in order for them to prosper; Sylvester had learned so much about charcoal production he hadn’t seemed to live much of his own life, while Eli’s troubled years behind the bar suggested tales of opportunities missed.

“You have that one on the house,” Eli said, winking. Milo smiled and passed the wink on to Cecilia, before sauntering over to Maisy and her grandfather as Jake nervously enquired about the drinks on offer in The Mucky Pup.

“Milo!” Maisy said warmly, getting up and hugging Milo as he approached. She had a grey Rolling Stones t-shirt that sat on one shoulder, draping over her other; she paired it with dark skinny jeans and a studded belt, finished with high-top trainers that looked brand new. Milo embraced the girl and set his drink down, planting himself opposite her grandfather.

“This is my grandfather, Kurt,” Maisy said, patting her grandfather on the shoulder. “Grandad, this is Milo.”

“Hullo Milo,” Kurt grumbled. Milo held his hand out in invitation, but Kurt ignored it.

“How are you, Kurt?” Milo asked sincerely, taking a sip of his beer. It seemed the master craftsmen was drinking a whisky from a stout glass. He must have ordered it recently, for there was still a cube of ice bobbing among the amber liquid.

“Very well, thank you,” Kurt replied. “How are you taking to Azalea?”

“Yea, it’s great,” Milo said, smiling. “There’s a great atmosphere, you know? Everyone’s so friendly, and helpful, it’s nice being here.”

“We’re a community, that’s for sure,” Kurt said. “Look out for each other. Grow together. Support our peers.”

“Have you always lived here?” Milo asked.

“Oh yes,” Kurt replied. “The Driscoll family have been in Azalea for generations. We produced some of the first Pokeballs in the modern world. Azalea is a village so immersed in the wilderness, with the forest and the caves around us, our ancestors needed to combat the wild Pokemon in our village. So we created something to imprison them with.”

“That’s amazing,” Milo said.

“I used to be the best in the business,” Kurt told Milo. “Crafted all sorts of Pokeballs. Renowned, I was. But with this economic downturn, things got tough. I sold my designs to the Silph Corporation across the border, and let go of all my family’s pride.”

“Don’t say that,” Maisy said softly, resting a hand on her grandfather’s shoulder.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Kurt said to Milo. “The rights to my designs netted me close to a million pounds. So I certainly won’t be going hungry.”

“And Grandad gets a profit from every single one of his Pokeballs sold in the world,” Maisy explained.

“But at what cost,” Kurt mused, drinking the rest of his whisky and getting up to go to the bathroom. “What cost?”

Milo watched Kurt amble along to the toilets, greeting a few people along the way. Jake was still at the bar, chatting with Cecilia and making her chuckle relentlessly as he gave an impression of Denise Dwight and her submissive daughters, Debbie and Tamara. Thinking back to the Goldenrod Contest, Milo remembered the intense battle against Dior that earned him the city’s ribbon, and felt his heart race at the thought of another contest soon.

“You look lost in thought,” Maisy said, gazing into his eyes.

“I try not to think about anything too much,” Milo joked.

“Grandad seems to like you,” she noted. “He’s normally quite a grump.”

“I’m a charmer,” Milo replied.

“I’ll say,” Maisy giggled, taking a drink and eyeing him with intrigue.

Milo smirked and leant back in his chair. He flexed his bicep discretely and watched the girl’s eyes trace his arm. He soon finished his drink, and Maisy made her way to the bar to order another round. She was going for vodka and cranberry juice, while Milo stayed on thick, foamy ales all night. As he felt alcohol wash around in his belly, he noticed that Oscar wasn’t around.

“You seem to fit in so well here,” Maisy noted.

“Like I said,” Milo replied. “It’s a friendly place.”

“But I guess you’re going away after the contest,” Maisy mused.

“I suppose,” Milo said. He saw Maisy’s face falter. “But it’s not far to Violet City from here. I imagine me and Jake will knock around for a few more days.”

“That’s good,” Maisy replied, smiling.

“I don’t want you to get too upset when I go…” Milo told her. He grinned as she looked visibly shocked by the remark.

“Who says I’ll be upset?” she asked him.

“I can tell,” Milo replied.

“It will be a shame when you’ve gone,” Maisy admitted. “Young blood around here, and all that. We’ll just have to make the most of the time we have.”

She gave Milo a challenging gaze. As her words sunk in, Milo stared back, musing. At that moment, when the electricity between the two crackled louder than the fire in the corner, Jake came over, squealing at Maisy’s rock chick look and holding his drink in both hands.

“Love the hair, too!” he said.

“Thanks Jakey!” Maisy said, smiling.

“I used to be a stylist, you know,” Jake replied.

“For Pokemon,” Milo muttered.

“Milo!” the boy cried hotly.

“Actually, you just worked on the reception, didn’t you?” Milo said. He felt a bit put-off that Jake had ruined his private time with Maisy, and wasn’t feeling particularly receptive towards his companion. Flushing red at the revelation, Jake took a hearty gulp of his drink, but Maisy didn’t seem bothered.

“Did you ever try coordinating?” Maisy asked.

“Nope,” Jake replied. “I’d be rubbish.”

“I think you should try sometime!” Maisy told him. “You know how to bring out a Pokemon’s natural beauty. Your Pokemon would look amazing.”

“I dunno,” Jake mumbled.

“Don’t you agree, Milo?” Maisy said firmly. Jake looked towards Milo with a puppy-dog expression splattered on his face.

“Course I do,” Milo said, nudging Jake playfully. The boy beamed at him, looking rather satisfied as he took another drink.

“Maybe I will!” he said. Maisy smiled and turned to Milo only briefly; as the doors to The Mucky Pup opened and Oscar walked in. Many people who were chatting stopped to look as the ex-gym leader made his way to the bar. Milo could see Eli looking irritated at the boy’s arrival.

“Why has it gone so quiet?” Milo asked.

“Oscar’s fallen out with a few people,” Maisy admitted quietly.

“How come?” came a quick response. Maisy bit her lip.

“He’s just…become obsessed with saving Azalea during this hard time,” she said. “I think he took the loss hard.”

“He wants to speak to Chuck,” Milo said. “That guy just started sitting on rocks.”

As he made the remark, Milo noted how long it had been since he had heard from Chuck. Maybe destroying his phone while he was in Goldenrod had been a bad idea. Perhaps Chuck was on his rock now, cross-legged, tracing his finger along the sandy dirt that had settled on the rock’s surface, overlooking the small town on the island of Cianwood.

Oscar turned from the bar, a pint of lager in his hand. He came over to the table where Milo and Maisy sat, sighing as he pulled a chair out. From the bar, Milo could see Jake watching Oscar curiously, disinterested in Cecilia’s conversation with Eli.

“Having a good night?” Oscar asked the pair of them.

“Sure,” Maisy replied. Milo nodded, suddenly feeling a smooth, slender leg rubbing against his ankle. He leant back in his chair and peered under the table as casually as he could and saw Maisy’s leg grazing against his suggestively. Looking back up, Milo could see Maisy was telling Oscar something about her Slowpoke. He smiled, feeling like he was sharing a private joke with himself.

“How are you feeling about the contest, Milo?” Oscar said.

“Yea, ok,” Milo replied. He hadn’t really thought about it much, really.

“It’s a P1 Contest,” Oscar told him. “The same Pokemon for Appeals and Battles. You knew that, right?”

“I had no idea,” said Milo, raising his eyebrows. Could Croconaw handle himself in both contest disciplines? He recalled the number of people who seemed to use some Pokemon specifically for appeals, and some for battles; Pokemon were not judged on appearance as strictly during the battle stages, due to the rough-and-tumble nature of the match. Recalling Ruby the Arcanine, whose fur was ravaged during a battle with a Tauros, Milo pondered if this P1 rule was simply a way for the Azalea contest to be more straightforward.

“Just trying to help you out,” Oscar said, smiling.

Milo nodded and took a drink. He was nearing the end of his pint, so got up and offered to get Maisy another drink. As he walked to the bar, he finished off his drink and set the glass down at the bar.

“Same again, Eli,” Milo murmured. “And another vodka cranberry for Maisy.”

“You two seem to be getting on like a house on fire,” Cecilia said, looking warmed by her own words. “How lovely.”

“Yea, she’s cool,” Milo noted. Eli smirked as he handed over Milo’s pint, and began measuring the vodka for Maisy’s drink.

“Look at Oscar,” Eli said darkly, casting a gaze across at the ex-Gym Leader.

“Now, Eli,” Cecilia said fleetingly, looking across at him.

“I’m not going to say anything,” Eli replied, setting Maisy’s drink down a little too hard.

“Is there…a bit of tension?” Milo said, handing the money over to the barman.

“Yes,” Eli said curtly, opening the till, his eyes still locked on Oscar. He was talking to Maisy in a would-be-casual manner, but the situation looked rather awkward. Cecilia and Jake stayed silent.

“You know,” Milo said. “The more time I spend here, the more I think Oscar’s not a liked man.”

Eli let out a hollow laugh.

“You’re a smart lad,” he said.

“Eli, now come on,” Cecilia said curtly. “Don’t be feeding the boy ideas.”

“What?” Eli replied. “Milo thinks Oscar’s not a liked man. I’ve fed him nothing.”

“Oscar is a good person,” Cecilia told the barman. “You know that as much as I do.”

“He’s a snake,” Eli replied. “And it’s only at the insistence of others that I let him in my pub.”

“Milo!” came a cry. Milo looked to see Maisy waving. “My drink?”

“Oh yea,” Milo murmured. “See you in a bit Jakey.”

He walked back to where Maisy was sitting; Oscar eyed him keenly as he sat back down. Almost before his buttocks had planted down on the seat, Maisy started rubbing her leg up and down Milo’s, catching his attention immediately.

“Eli’s a lovely chap, isn’t he,” Oscar mused, a devilish smile flickering across his face.

“He doesn’t seem to like you,” Milo pointed out. Maisy began to laugh.

“Oh?” Oscar said, the smirk wiped completely from his face.

“Well yea, he sorta implied you guys don’t get on,” Milo said.

“I don’t think that’s quite…”

“And here’s another thing,” Milo said, gaining courage with each mouthful of beer. “How come you popped up just as Sylvester was talking about you?”

“What?” Maisy asked, shocked. Oscar raised his eyebrows.

“I was looking for him, for advice on some of the plant life in the forest,” he said. “And as I came to the area you were working in, he was waxing lyrical about my deception and my lies. It wasn’t nice to hear, but I’m sort of glad I heard it, really.”

Milo stared at him, unable to think of something to say. Oscar hadn’t really answered his question, but still the response was satisfying. Maisy shared a concerned look with him as Oscar drank from his glass, smacking his lips with delight.

“I do love the beer here,” he said, smiling.

“Yea, definitely,” Milo said, taking a drink.

“Will you guys excuse me?” Oscar said. “I need to mingle a little bit.”

He got up, wearing a sour look on his face as he walked across the pub. Milo’s interest in where Oscar went was ruptured when a hand began stroking the inside of his thigh. Now with no Oscar to distract, Maisy had her eyes locked onto his, smiling cheekily.

“Er, Hi,” Milo stammered.

“Hi,” she replied back. “Like what I’m doing?”

“Very much,” Milo replied.

“Good,” she said, licking her lips. Milo grinned as he raised his glass to drink a little bit.

As the evening progressed, Milo and Maisy began to drink more and more. Sometimes, they would order shooters at the bar, pulling faces as sharp, powerful liqueur slid down their throats. Laughing like hyenas in the corner of the pub, the two were like old friends as the fondling got more emphatic and the flirting more outrageous. Oscar had apparently disappeared, not sitting at any of the tables, while Jake was sitting with Cecilia, playing card games. Poor Jake couldn’t handle some of the games, dropping his cards, giving things away or missing important hands. Cecilia, however, handled herself like a pro, concealing all behind a poker face as she won time and time again.

“Hey,” Maisy said, banging her fist on the bar. “ELI!”

“W-What are you shouting at?” Milo muttered, stumbling through the pub to her side.

“Eli isn’t here,” Maisy said, eyes scanning the absent bar.

“Did you ever notice his name is ‘Eli’?” Milo said, smirking.

“Yea…” Maisy muttered.

“Like, Eli? As in…E…Li?”

“Yes Milo…” Maisy said, her lips twisted into a cheesy grin. “What’s funny about that?”

“It cracks me up!” Milo cried. “E…Li! Eeeee…Lie! Hahaha.”

“Milo you are so dunk!” she yelled.

“I’m what?” Milo asked.

“Dunk! No, I mean -”

“Aha! You mean DRUNK,” Milo said, patting her back and giving her shoulders a soft squeeze. “Silly Maisy.”

“Come on ELI!” Maisy shouted.

Milo suddenly heard a low, thundering noise. Looking to the door behind the bar, which presumably ran down to the cellar, it sounded as if someone was running back up. In a split second the door was flung open and Oscar ran out from under the bar; his face was shining with blood. He sprinted across The Mucky Pup, tackling straight into a table and falling to the floor.

Many of the people inside the pub looked up as the ex-gym leader lay on the ground, getting up and dusting himself off. Scared and apprehensive, he span around, looking at the many faces that stared at him. As a hand traced across his face, Oscar felt blood and gasped.

“OSCAR!” came a roar. From the cellar, Eli ran up the stairs, fury etched into his face. Milo saw Oscar flee the pub as Eli clenched his teeth, catching his breath at the top of what looked like a steep set of stone steps.

“Goodness!” Cecilia cried.

“What the hell happened?” Jake asked, the two having run over to the bar to see what had happened.

“The cheeky little shit,” Eli grumbled; a thunder crackled beneath his eyes. Cecilia looked horrified, while Jake held a hand to his mouth in shock.

“Is anyone going to go after him?” he asked, seemingly not as drunk as Milo or Maisy.

“You should!” Maisy urged him.

“Me?” Jake asked.

“Yea, definitely,” Maisy said. “He’s really keen on you, Jakey!”

Jake looked across at Milo briefly, turning back to Maisy, while Cecilia took Eli to one side and attempted to calm him down.

“Really?” he said.

“Yea!” Maisy insisted. “Honestly, he’s just really shy about it. Go after him now, before he gets away!”

Jake took a deep breath and his eyes widened expectantly; he strode out of The Mucky Pup with a never-before-seen swagger, eager to catch up with Oscar. Milo’s head was buzzing; it felt like a tiny goblin was rearing up a chainsaw on his shoulder. He turned to Maisy, who was sending a text message.

“Is Oscar…you know,” he muttered.

“Ha,” Maisy said. “Nope. Straight as a rod. He used to pine for me, actually.”

“Then why did you -”

“Oscar’s been trying to push me and you together so much it’s patronising,” Maisy admitted. “I mean, you’re really hot. And I’m not bad either. Of course we were going to hook up, you know?”

“Er-”

“So this is my way of getting one up on him,” she said, sliding her phone away. Milo felt a pang of angst for poor Jake, who would tend to the beaten Oscar only to be shot down, and wondered if the stylist’s self esteem would handle it. Nevertheless, as Maisy handed him another foamy pint, Milo felt himself care less and less about Jake as he shared a charged grin with the local Azalea girl.

*

Oscar staggered through the town; the moon beamed overhead; big, bright, alluring. He had tried mopping up the blood on his face using his sleeves, but it had not stemmed the flow whatsoever. Gasping in the chilled evening air, he caught his breath outside Kurt’s house.

Things had escalated quickly between Eli and himself, after what started off as a brief chat in the cellar. His hand tracing a Pokeball on his belt, Oscar mused how differently things may have gone if he had spoken with his Pokemon at his side. Eli wasn’t gifted with Pokemon; just a Poochyena and Mightyena that were far too domesticated to be a threat.

His phone buzzed softly and Oscar whipped it out. It was from Maisy.

Now we’re even. Have a good night xXx

Confused, Oscar looked to see what she meant. Had she spoken with Eli prior to the confrontation? No, surely not. The two weren’t close, despite Maisy’s grandfather, Kurt, being friends with Eli for some years. Maisy didn’t know a lot about the extent of Oscar’s argument with Eli.

In the distance, a voice cried Oscar’s name. He looked back in the direction of The Mucky Pup to see someone running towards him. At first, he wasn’t sure who it was, until the repeated cries of ‘Oscar! Oscar!’ made it clear that it was Jake, Milo’s companion.

“Are you okay?” the boy asked, catching up with him. He looked around eighteen, buzzing slightly from alcohol, perhaps.

“Yea, yea, I’m fine,” Oscar said, with nonchalance.

“What happened in the cellar?” Jake said, taking a step towards Oscar. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s fine,” Oscar said, noticing Jake was standing rather close to him.

“Your poor face,” Jake said, getting a handkerchief out and dabbing his face. Oscar could smell a fruity aftershave on the boy’s body, but did not jerk away when Jake started cleaning him up.

“I’ll be fine,” Oscar admitted.

“You know, you could have fooled me,” Jake said absently. “I wouldn’t have even guessed until Maisy mentioned it to me.”

“What?” Oscar said. Jake looked into his eyes and smiled softly.

“That you’re…well, you know,” he admitted, laughing.

“Vegan?” Oscar asked.

“Gay,” Jake, running his hand through Oscar’s hair. Oscar flinched and stepped back as if an electric shock had coursed through him. Now Maisy’s message finally made sense. She had send Jake on a wild gay goose chase to get back at him for orchestrating her fling with Milo. Upon seeing Oscar flinch, Jake looked at the boy with confusion, with sadness.

“I - me?” Oscar stammered. “I….”

But then something clicked. Two cogs that had seemingly never been in contact with one another locked into place somewhere within Oscar’s head, and he realised how salient the opportunity was that had presented itself before him.

“I am,” he breathed, blinking rapidly.

“And what do you think of me?” Jake said coyly, looking meek and cheeky as he grinned from ear to ear. Oscar found the words in the back of his head.

“Actions speak louder than words,” he said, stepping forward and putting an arm around Jake’s waist.

The boy’s eyes widened as Oscar tilted his head and leant in; Jake turned to meet Oscar’s twist and their lips met beneath the moonlight cast down onto Azalea. As they gripped one another passionately in the street, Oscar ran a hand up Jake’s back, sending shivers down his spine. Jake let out a soft gasp, his hot breath fluttering into Oscar’s ear as he moved to kiss his neck; it felt like sparks dancing on his skin.

All too soon, Oscar pulled away, gasping momentarily. Jake looked gob smacked.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“My house is just down the road,” Oscar said, smiling. Jake grinned happily, completely oblivious to the text that Oscar tapped out on his phone.

Nice try bt it didnt wrk Jake is eatin out my hand. Hv fun with Milo x

And with a heaving anxiety in his chest, Oscar led Jake through the town back to his house.




Next Chapter
It's the morning of the Azalea contest, but Milo is reeling from the events of the previous night. Maisy begins to put her heart first and she lets slip a few details about Oscar and The Apricorn Guild. Meanwhile, Milo's lack of preparation threatens his chance of success at the contest, further foiled by Oscar, who has wound up on the judging panel. Fuelled by a desire to ensure Milo loses the contest, Oscar's behavior confuses Jake, who is determined to get to the bottom of the mysteries in the town.





Notes
-Maybe this chapter should have been called Sex On The Beach? XD
-Actually Ch10 was called that, Eagle-Eyed Reader!
-The events of this chapter really set the wheels in motion for the rest of the Azalea arc. Oscar's motives for seemingly helping and hindering Milo simultaneously are explored.
-I wanted to kind of keep it all a bit hush hush though; the mystery of this arc is quite WHAT Oscar has on his mind. And what he has planned.
-He seems like a really nice guy, but I wanted to take his character and turn him into something that is perhaps sinister. What is he thinking? Everyone in Azalea seems...wary of him.
-Ok any ideas for Oscar + Jake ship names?
-Or Milo and Maisy?
-I brought Sylvester back into this chapter after his involvement in the Ilex-hippie-fest. I really like his character; he's not that clued up on how to talk to people his own age, but he means well. I have him penned as an only child. He's about Milo's age. It was cool to explore him a little bit more. His name is also a reference to the character in the games who loses his Farfetch'd in Ilex Forest; he was called Sylvester in the anime.
-The Mucky Pup is also named after a favourite drinking spot of mine in London
-I believe Kurt's grandaughter was called Maisy in the anime/manga, too.
-There was allusions to Milo's childhood at a prestigious school in Blackthorn; when the boys visit that place, we have loadsa cool things about Milo growing up.
-Milo and Mia both attended the academy, as did Gary & Daisy Oak and Lance. Daisy and Mia were seen as being quite close friends in a previous chapter.
-Milo also mentioned, when he met the singing family, that he trained at Cianwood Gym as a child. He was at boarding school through the week and came home on the friday, before undergoing training at the gym all weekend. His parents were pushy :/
-The character Nancy was based off Zoey from the anime. A kinda punkier version. She competes in the contest.




Also, regarding the Golden Arc chapters, they do begin to intertwine among the fic's narratives. It gets kinda cool



Thanks for reading!

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Really nice chapter, and I mean really. Ofcourse the wait sucks, but the result makes up for that. You really got the atmosphere of Azalea catched in this chapter. The small everyone-knows-everyone town, the folks living there, the classical pub, the weekly Tuesdays at the pub, the hard working family buisnesses, etc. Lovely.

Maisy and Milo is hot. Jake and Oscar disgust me, but I can see Oscar's point of view. Wonder how that will work out.

Contest coming up, so that means less plot, but I could handle another contest.

Eli looks like a two faced guy. Too friendly. And what happened in that basement? I'm really keen on finding that out.

Oscar is a motivated jerk, but actually it just depends on how you look at it. That's what's going to matter in the next chapters I believe. Empathy and not being too judgy.

Can't wait for the next installement.

[PancaKe]

Several thoughts:

Ah your so cute! You really like the shipping thing! I don't know what to call the romances... I'm not sure I trust Oscar's romance with Jake. There seems something manipulative about it as well. I'm not sure whether he had the realization that he could manipulate Jake by pretending to be gay, or that he actually was gay..........

I'm enjoying the character interactions. I'm falling for Milo's bad boy/inside sensitive appeal. I used to hate him but now he's won me over. Very nice character development. And this whole chapter I just kept thinking "Jake is so cute!" and wanting to squeeze his cheeks.

I do sometimes forget the actual plotline of this story. But I guess at the end we'll discover what's up with reclassification, and there will be fun contests along the way!

[Sike Saner]

Stantler are awesome. They really are. ^^

The whole "sexy times" business... XD That was great. It was funny the first time, and I liked how it was called back to later on.

Oscar is definitely intriguing me at this point; I'm very interested in finding out just what's up with him, what his motives really are.

Also, dunk--excuse me, drunk Milo and Maisy ftw. X3 That was some funny stuff right there.

Other highlights and et cetera:

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Jasmine said, after kissing her mother on the cheek. “How is the little Pichu?”

“Still cries every night,” Lily said, looking sad. “Misses his trainer, I expect.”

D'aww...

Suddenly, there was a quick pop, and Morty appeared in front of her, Gengar clutching his shoulder. Jasmine screamed and staggered back, dropping her phone. Morty smirked as he put his own phone away.

“Surprise,” he said sarcastically.

“Why did you do that?!” Jasmine barked. “You son of a bitch!”

Fwee for fun with teleportation!

“Something fun,” Morty said, nodding.

“Well I…don’t…know what we can do that’s fun,” Jasmine admitted.

*mind goes directly to gutter, does not pass GO, does not collect $200...*

“Use a fire punch,” Nancy said. Machoke nodded and clenched his fists, furrowing his brow and concentrating. Getting up, Croconaw dusted himself down and watched as both of Machoke’s fists burst into flame; the fire licked his fingers and swathed around his wrists as he concentrated hard.

Next, Machoke spread his fists out and placed both hands directly on the plates of ice covering his chest. Steam coiled up from Machoke as a hissing sound filled the air; Croconaw waited for the right time to strike. Machoke sighed in satisfaction, the heat from his hands melting the ice Croconaw had created.

Interesting use of fire punch there.

“Aqua jet!” Milo said. Claws still glowing a bright, opulent silver, Croconaw held his arms out as a jet of water burst from the ground and encased him. As he soared into the air, his silvery claws let off a bright glow around the body of water, causing Jake to clasp his hands together and gasp softly. Milo thought the attack looked amazing, and wondered about the Azalea contest as Croconaw smashed into the injured Machoke.

Yeah, that did make for a rather pretty-sounding effect.

“I’m trying to think of a casual nickname,” Jake said. “Vester is cool.”

“Vester is stupid, you’re stupid,” Sylvester snapped.

*is more amused by Sylvester's response than I might have expected to be*

He stood by a large, thick tree. Were it not for the gangly man slapping it and rubbing the bark with an odd eroticism, the tree was no different from any other in the forest.

...XD

Oh yes, I’m f-fine, I’ve just drawn a - oh, what do you say when you draw a - BLANK!

Ha, that line is brilliant.

“Yea, that’s whatever you were talking about for you,” Jake mused, clicking his tongue.

X3

I will now conclude this post with an installment of My Mind Plays Tricks On Me Theatre:

Milo had his loose worker jeans on and paired them with his college hoody; it had the Blackthorn Academy crest on the front, and was very warm and insulating.

I initially read that as "warm and insulting". Cue mental image of hooded sweatshirt with something like "My Owner Is a Fucking Loser" printed on it. X3

[Chris 2.1]

Thanks for reading guys!

MLG: I think the atmosphere is kinda cool in Azalea. It seemed like such a nice stepping-stone for the trainer in the games, and for M&J, coming here after the emotionally and physically intense arc in Goldenrod has helped them unwind a little, and explore a life without money.

Oscar keeps his cards very close to his chest, and we won't learn what his full plans are until Chapter 21. He truly believes he is doing the right thing, and that he is a pioneer. His methods, however, irritate people such as Kurt and Eli. You will find out what Oscar said to Eli in the basement in the next chapter.

The contest has spanned like 20 pages so I need to really cut it down. I want the chapters to be slightly smaller in the future to make them a bit more accessible. It is a contest chap but does move the plot forward - particularly at the end.


Pancake: How about Malazy (Milo + Maisy) and Joscar (Oscar + Jake)? XD. Jilo (Jake + Milo), Jasmorty....I could do this all day XD

If you look at the text Oscar sent Maisy...I think you'll see that he was using Jake's infatuation to some advantage. But what does he have in mind?

I'm so glad you like Milo's attitude. He has softened a little bit, I've noticed, since the earlier chapters. Jake is also endearing too....they're a good team.


Sike: Insulting jumpers? F*CK YOU XD I think Oscar's motives are one of the biggest parts of the arc. Maisy also has an interesting proposition for the boys next chapter. One of them will love the idea, but one won't!


Next part of The Golden Arc up soon.

It's about CHUCK.

:O

[Chris 2.1]

Okay, so the Chuck part of the Golden Arc was taken away and destroyed by a team of flamethrowers.

Seriously though, I didn't think it worked.

Instead, here is Ch20!

See the Notes for....lots of info!


Previously
-Milo and Jake arrived in Azalea
-Totodile evolved into Croconaw
-Milo and Jake began staying with Cecilia Higgins, who owns a bed and breakfast.
-Oscar (Bugsy) was beaten up by the owner of The Mucky Pup, Eli.
-Milo went home with Maisy
-Jake went home with Oscar

Show-Off
-XX-
Tokyo Rose

Despite always being a heavy sleeper, and snoozing through many of his alarms when he was younger, Jake found himself wide awake the next day. While many a school bus had been missed, or many an alarm lazily switched off, and many shifts been covered at work at such short notice, today was different. Lying in Oscar’s bed, Jake stared up at the ceiling as the large clock in the room clicked with each second.

Beside him, the purple-haired youth, who was about Milo’s age, lay fast asleep. Jake turned onto his side and stared at the wall ahead, thinking about the previous night. Looking to the bedside table, and the condom wrapper scrunched upon it, Jake sighed as a sterile smell sat in the air.

“You awake?” came a gruff voice. Jake leant on his elbow, looking as Oscar opened his eyes and adjusted to the brightness.

“Yea,” Jake said.

“K,” came a murmur. “You have a good sleep?”

“Great,” Jake replied, his hand tracing Oscar‘s body. The boy flinched as if he had been struck by lightening, repulsed by Jake‘s fingertips.

“I‘m…not a morning person,” Oscar stammered.

“Right,” Jake muttered. “Well, last night was gr-”

“Should really get moving, I’m judging the contest today.”

“Oh, yea,” Jake said. He wondered how he was going to contact Milo, since he didn’t have a phone. Had Milo even done enough preparation for the contest? Musing on the training yesterday, Jake hadn’t noticed Oscar get out of bed and walk into the en suite.

Jake vaguely recalled Oscar telling Milo that you could only use one Pokemon in the contest. Was Croconaw a safe bet, or would Milo rely on Medicham to get through? She was more than capable of battling, and her appeal in Goldenrod had earned her a high score. Jake thought to Ruby the Arcanine, and how he actually missed having her around.

The shower was turned on, and Oscar was soon engulfed in thick beads of hot water. Jake eyed the bathroom suspiciously, wondering why Oscar was so quiet, but it wasn’t exactly out of character. Perky and talkative after the two had sex, Jake was disappointed when Oscar rolled over and went to sleep. He always liked to talk afterwards…but it seemed not everyone was the same.

Just then, a mobile phone on the table vibrated softly. Jake leant over to see who was calling, and Maisy’s name appeared on the screen. Since Oscar was in the shower, he seemed unable to hear the call, so Jake took it and pressed the ‘accept’ button.

“Hello?” he said.

“Who is this?” came a voice.

“Milo!” Jake cried.

“Jake?” he asked. “Why are you answering Oscar’s -”

“Why are you ringing -”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Jake replied. “You?”

“Yea, feeling pretty good right now,” Milo said, groaning softly. “Maisy’s…err…she’s a bit busy right now, so I thought I’d ring Oscar and see if he knew where you were.”

“Oh, right, well I stayed at his,” Jake said.

“I hope you didn’t get your hopes up Jake, I mean, sometimes you might like a guy, but he isn’t that way inclined, you know?” Milo said reassuringly.

“He is, though,” Jake replied.

“Eh?”

“I slept with him,” Jake said firmly. “Oscar’s gay.”

“What?”

“Why are you so shocked?” Jake asked.

“Because as soon as you left the pub, Maisy admitted she only told you that Oscar liked you to get back at Oscar,” Milo explained. “The whole thing was a wind up.”

“Well it backfired, big time,” Jake said, sounding cross. “We kissed in the street, and went back to his, and we had -”

“-Jake, I don’t-”

“Incredible -”

“No, don’t get too -”

“- raunchy -”

“Seriously, this is -”

“-sweaty-”

“- stop there, Jake, stop at -”

“SEX!” Jake snapped. “Okay?”

“Yes! Of course it’s O-bloody-kay,” Milo grumbled. “You ain’t getting a fucking medal! Me and Maisy were at it like rabbits last night, but I’m not going to put it on a fucking t-shirt.”

“I didn’t say that -”

“The thing is, either Maisy has got Oscar completely mixed up, or he stepped out of his comfort zone and then some,” Milo mused.

“Why can’t you be happy for me?” Jake asked.

“Huh?”

“I finally connect with someone, and there has to be some ‘agenda’ behind it. No, it couldn’t be that someone actually wanted to sleep with me. God forbid! No, there has to be some deep plan in place, some secret façade of some sort. Bullshit.”

“Jake, I didn’t mean -”

“But you did!” the stylist cut in. “Look at the girls you’ve slept with since we’ve been on the road. How many people have I slept with? Huh? NONE!”

“Okay, okay, I understand, Jake,” Milo said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Jake let out a long sigh.

“It’s fine,” he said, although his tone suggested otherwise.

“I’m just getting ready now,” Milo said to him. “The contest is in a couple of hours.”

“Who are you using?” Jake asked.

“Croconaw,” Milo replied. “Magnemite just hasn’t come together yet. I’ll use him in the next one.”

“Okay,” Jake replied.

“I’ll meet you outside the contest hall in an hour, okay?” Milo said.

“Sure thing,” Jake replied.

At Maisy’s house, Milo got off the phone and chucked it to the side, letting his head fall back and hit the pillow. Jake could be hard work sometimes, and it was during his bouts of high maintenance that Milo felt he was back with his girlfriend again. Lifting up the duvet, Milo stared at Maisy, who was bobbing between his legs.

“We should get going,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re doing a great job,” Milo said. “But I’ve almost been late for contests before, and it was a cute girl last time, too.”

“Fine,” Maisy said, getting out from under the covers and wiping her mouth. “I’m going for a shower.”

“Right,” Milo said airily, thinking about the impending contest.

“Are you going to join me?” she said, lingering at the doorway to the bathroom. Milo paused for a moment, watching Maisy stand there in an old t-shirt and her pants.

“I’ve got to get changed,” he admitted. “I’ll just shower at Cecilia’s place.”

“Oh,” Maisy murmured.

“Will be a bit easier, you know,” Milo said, idly putting his clothes on.

“Yea,” she said. “Totally.”

“See you later,” Milo said, jamming his foot into his trainer. The once smooth, shapely trainers were creased and wrinkled where Milo lazily rammed his feet inside. They looked like such a state now, yet they had been so expensive when he purchased them in Goldenrod. Fully dressed, Milo walked to Maisy’s door and was quickly making his way down the stairs. Maisy sighed, shutting the door to the bathroom and preparing to shower.

*

Milo and Jake had met at the contest hall at the agreed time. Inside the contest hall, Milo was amused at how small and humble the building was compared to the glitzy hall in Goldenrod. A kind woman signed Milo up and told him he was appealing seventh. Milo smiled, fully aware that his appeal was not particularly thought-out.

Sitting in the competitors area, which had a flat-screen television showing the stage and the judges, Milo saw a number of the Azalea residents and their Pokemon; obviously competing was popular in the little town. Croconaw was staring at Milo with a look of utter confusion, but Milo chose to ignore it. Nancy, the girl who battled Milo with her Machoke the previous day, was polishing the shell of her Torkoal, beaming at the squat little creature.

“Look at that Persian,” Jake hissed. In the corner, an elderly lady was grooming the large, lithe cat. It’s off-tan fur looked so soft and well-kept, but the Pokemon glared around the room with dissatisfaction. Milo noticed the owner was clad in expensive jewellery and wore a shimmering red dress.

“They’re vicious as fuck,” Milo told Jake. “Mia had one, but it kept attacking her. They’re mental. She released it into the wild.”

“Hello boys!” came a cry. Cecilia came hurrying over, her Roselia at her side. Milo was curious if Cecilia would be cross that they didn’t come home last night, but she seemed in good spirits. She went on to say she felt it unfair to charge them for a night at her house last night when they actually went elsewhere, which was both welcome news and a sign of the woman’s compassion for the two boys. Milo thought it wise to stay in Azalea an extra night than they had planned, just to make up for it.

“Cecilia, are you excited for the contest?” Jake asked.

“Oh yes!” she said. “It’s only a bit of fun though, really.”

She peered around.

“You know, I don’t recognise a lot of these people. They must have travelled down today! Gosh, how exciting.”

“Do you know what happened with Oscar and Eli last night?” Milo asked. Cecilia looked shocked and pursed her lips.

“Well, I shouldn’t really be telling you this,” Cecilia said. “But Oscar hit a sore spot of Eli’s. Eli has a daughter, Alex, but they don’t speak. Last I heard, Alex was living in Saffron city with her partner, and Eli has always been very troubled by their parting of ways.”

“And Oscar brought it up?” Milo asked.

“It seems so,” Cecilia told him, looking wary. “Eli is a lovely man, but he won’t take things like that from someone as young as Oscar.”

“He was really hurt!” Jake said. “His face was swollen and bruised. Eli was savage.”

“Oscar was just as savage with his choice of words, by the sound of it,” Milo said darkly. “That boy might not have Eli’s frame, but he’s still dangerous.”

Cecilia seemed to regret divulging the information, as she hurried off to speak to someone she recognised. Milo felt as if Cecilia seemed to want to keep a blanket over his and Jake’s eyes; perhaps as guests into the tight-knit community, she didn’t want them seeing the skeletons that had been hastily stuffed into closets?

The contest was about to begin. On the screen in the competitors area, Milo saw the host, a boy of about fourteen, introduce the three judges. As usual, a Nurse from the Pokemoncenter was on the panel, who said hello to the crowd and seemed quite pleasant. The next person was Maxwell Kane, the mayor of Azalea; he had a big belly and a ridiculous grey handlebar moustache, and greeted the young host with a complicated slew of words. Looking somewhat pompous and pretentious, Milo wondered why he had never seen or heard of Azalea’s Mayor until now. A coordinator to his right mentioned that the young host, whose name was Lee Layton, won a competition to host the next contest, and was a boy at the local school.

“The third judge on our panel,” Lee said happily. “Is Oscar McNamara, former Gym Leader of Azalea Town!”

Milo looked in shock as Oscar took his seat on the panel. He was wearing a black shirt, and his face was mottled with purple and blue markings administered by Eli. They clashed with his vivid hair horribly. What did Oscar know about coordinating? Barely noticing the MC, Lee, open the ceremony with an appeal from his Beautifly, Milo looked over at Jake, who was watching Oscar thoughtfully.

“So, you okay?” Milo said.

“Fine,” Jake murmured. “Oscar’s just…a bit cold. A bit quiet.”

“Some people are after sex,” Milo assured him. “I am. I don’t hang around for tea and crumpets. And if what Maisy said is true…maybe Oscar’s struggling with his sexuality.”

“Yea,” Jake said. “Milo, that’s probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Uhh…thanks,” he replied.

First up on stage was Nancy, the Machoke trainer Milo had battled yesterday. Her Machoke absent from the appeal, Nancy used the Torkoal Milo saw earlier. It burst out of the Pokeball in a cloud of thick, white smoke, giving off a long, wheezy gasp.

“Smokescreen!” Nancy shouted. Plumes of smoke coiled out from Torkoal’s mouth and from the chunks in the side of its shell; soon the creature was shrouded as the smoke snaked up into the air. On cue, Torkoal tucked his limbs in and used rapid spin; as the shell span, it pulled on the smoke like a cyclone effect, sending the smoke swirling around Torkoal fiercely.

“Now use flash!”

Torkoal had various holes in its shell; this was where it planted big pieces of coal to burn in the fiery furnace that was its body. From each of the holes, each differing in size, a red-hot flash of light glowed; fire stoked within. As the thick blanket of smoke veiled Torkoal, these red chunks burned bright through the smoke, like a cluster of sinister eyes. The real Torkoal was nowhere to be seen.

“Finish up with Overheat!” Nancy shouted.

As the red-hot lights burned through the smoke, staring at the audience like hungry predators, the intensity increased. Milo watched from backstage as bursts of fire erupted from the cloud-like cloak; Torkoal was revealed as smoke spiralled into the rafters and jets of flame seared through the air, whooshing like ferocious rockets.

The crowd applauded at the display, with Nancy bowing as Torkoal looked around curiously. Seeing such a docile creature release such fury and intensity from its small body was incredible; Milo wondered how long she had worked on the appeal.

“Thank you Nancy!” the MC said. “Let’s go to the judges!”

“What a heated appeal!” the nurse said. “It was great, really. 8.4 from me!”

It took Milo a second to remember that the appeals were marked out of ten, by three judges, for a total score out of thirty. In Goldenrod, being a larger contest, there had been five judges marking out of twenty, for a total of one hundred. Things were truly back to basics now, but from the looks of things, the competition was fierce.

Milo missed Oscar’s comments, but he gave Nancy an 8.0, which seems to have gone over well with her. Next, they looked to Maxwell, who cleared his throat dramatically.

“An exuberant frippery of decadence and bijoux!” he called. “Veritably, you command your Chersina Angulata with composition and competence!”

“Huh?” Nancy said.

“Eight!” he bellowed. “The Octal!”

“That gives Nancy a total of 24.4,” said Lee, the host. “Thank you Nancy!”

“That mayor dude is an absolute weirdo,” Milo noticed.

“Yea, it’s like he has a dictionary jammed up his ass,” Jake said. Milo looked him quizzically. “What?”

“Usually someone would say ‘it’s like they swallowed a dictionary’, that’s like, the phrase that people use,” Milo told him.

“My phrase still got the point across,” Jake reminded him.

“It was full of sodomy!” Milo snapped.

“Yea, and we know how much you hate that,” Jake said, in an unusually sarcastic voice.

Next up was a young girl who performed an appeal with her Cleffa. The tiny pink Pokemon cheered its name and danced around the stage, singing in a pleasant key and spinning around on the spot. Jake looked besotted with the little Pokemon, but Milo knew that they were very rare. The girl received an average score; it didn’t seem like anything particularly inspiring.

“So mate,” Milo said, prodding Croconaw in the side. “How you feeling about this appeal?”

Croconaw shrugged.

“Start off with an aqua jet. Then as you do, use a metal claw and try to spin your body.”

He nodded. Jake was listening intently, but his eyes remained on the screen. The elderly lady with the Persian took to the stage.

“I was sort of thinking about ice fang. You remember when we started learning ice beam, and I asked you to clench your jaws and concentrate really hard on making it cold? Well if you do that when you’re encased in aqua jet, it’ll start to glaze the attack. Maybe.”

Croconaw let out a sigh.

“We’ll play it by ear, I suppose,” Milo muttered.

He saw the Persian slashing apart an energy ball attack, becoming swathed in strips of bold, citrus light. Opening up his ribbon case, Milo looked at his two ribbons that he had already won. They were symbols of his effort, determination and, most of all, his passion. But did he really deserve to win today, given how little preparation he had put in? Recalling the argument with his father, Milo recalled how determined he had been to pursue coordinating, and couldn’t believe how lax he had become.

“Milo! Look!” Jake said. A man had released his Swablu for an appeal. The little blue bird, whose wings were huge and cloud-like, began flying in circles above his trainer, cooing gently.

“Double team!” the man yelled. Glowing, Swablu split into three copies and as he flew, each copy split into three more. “Now, heal bell!”

As a gentle chiming rang out across the arena, all of the Swablu flew in intricate patterns. The judges watched, impressed, as the birds began to glow with a soft throb; shifting among rainbow colours.

“Now, use feather dance!” the man ordered. The Swablu all began sweeping around the arena in a fast circle; they shed their downy wings, causing thick clumps of cotton to dance on the air. With the song ringing out across the hall, it seemed so serene. The clones all merged back into one and Swablu let out a final, shrill note, resting on her trainers head as cotton fell down around them.

Applause rang out across the hall. Milo thought that the appeal was impressive, but due to the nature of this contest, that man would have to battle with Swablu, and Croconaw could easily take it down. The judges were beaming as they gave their scores.

“Just a fantastic appeal, Sam,” the Nurse said warmly. “Swablu was so serene and beautiful. I give it an 8.5.”

“I agree, it was a sight to behold,” Oscar said. “8.0 from me.”

“Splendid! A wondrous bravura of baroque and Byzantine!” cried Maxwell, his fingers playfully twiddling his ridiculous moustache. “Nine!”

“That leaves Sam and his Swablu with a grand total of 25.5! Thank you Sam!” the MC shouted.

“Fuck, we’re up soon,” Milo noted.

“How do you feel?” Jake asked.

“Ehh, bit shit really,” Milo admitted.

“You haven’t done much work for this one,” Jake pointed out.

“Hmm.”

“Maybe you’re just getting complacent,” Jake said. “Relaxed about the whole thing.”

“Probably,” Milo said. He looked to see Herman, the senile old man, enter the stage. He had a number of bananas shoved down his trousers and released his Slowpoke.

Slowpoke began chewing his own tail, rolling around the floor with apparent satisfaction. His stubby paws waved around as Herman started to kick wildly around him, as if fighting an invisible assailant. All of the judges watched, confused, as the old man started shouting random words.

“Tractor! Crackers!” he barked, pulling a banana from his trousers and throwing it at Slowpoke. Slowpoke let the banana whack him in the head and roll to the ground, before he idly picked it up and began to eat it.

“Well at least I’ve beaten this guy,” Milo murmured.

Herman, after throwing the bananas at Slowpoke, suddenly began flailing his arms and screaming. Charging towards his Pokemon, Herman looked possessed, wiggling his arms in the air. He tackled Slowpoke, who flew backwards and landed in a heap on the ground. Herman then started pulling his trousers down, at which point the judges intervened.

“ERM WELL DONE!” the nurse yelled. “Can we get someone to escort Herman off the stage?”

Cecilia scurried on and grabbed Herman, leading him off the stage. Nancy took the Slowpoke under her arm and walked off with it.

“I’ll give Herman a 5.0,” said the nurse. “It was…creative.”

“It was shit,” Oscar said. “1.0.”

“Decaying and destitute! Destructive!” moaned Maxwell. “Zero!”

“Herman finishes that appeal with a 6.0 out of 30,” said Lee, the MC. “Let’s all give a round of applause to Herman for his unique and special performance.”

“Unique?” Milo spat. “Special? Fucking ridiculous.”

His number flashed on the screen; time to get onto the stage. Recalling Croconaw into his Pokeball, Milo smiled at Jake, who watched him pensively. As he walked through the back room, some of the coordinators wished him luck, and even Nancy gave him a pat on the butt. He walked behind the stage and readied himself behind the back curtain as the MC spoke to Maxwell about the current crop of coordinators.

“Good luck honey,” Cecilia said bracingly, giving Milo a squeeze on the arm. “I’m on right after you. How exciting!”

“Next up!” the MC cried. “Contestant #7! Milo Mitchelson!”

Milo took a deep breath, felt his sweaty fingers clasp Croconaw’s Pokeball and strode purposefully onto the stage. Immediately he noticed how small it was; how close the crowd seemed, and how their smiles, watchful eyes and applause seemed so intimate and personal. He found himself smiling back to someone before realising he needed to send Croconaw out.

“Croconaw! Go!” he yelled, arching his arm back and hurling the ball into the air. It burst open and in a shower of glittering light, Croconaw landed on the arena, spinning around and bearing his sharp teeth. Shimmering glitter rained down on Croconaw as the glamorous glitter ball that contained him landed in Milo’s hand. Milo sighed, noticing that the disgusting Pokeball was not as effective now that Croconaw wasn’t cute and smiley.

“Use Aqua Jet!” Milo ordered. Clenching his fists, Croconaw gave a long roar as he was encased in a torpedo of water. He shot up off the ground as cold, foamy water sprayed all around. “Follow up with metal claw!”

As the aqua jet arched down, Croconaw held his claws out as far as he could. A metallic glow encased his claws, and as Croconaw sped along like a rocket, he twisted his body; silvery energy from the metal claw began spinning around the aqua jet and melded along the blue attack.

Milo ordered Croconaw to leap out the aqua jet attack; bursting from the watery torpedo with his claws glowing silver, Croconaw span around and landed on the ground, roaring loudly. He leapt back and burst into another aqua jet, propelling himself back along the arena.

“Now clench your teeth! Frostbite!” Milo said, that being the code name for the beginning of his ice fang attack.

Croconaw’s twisting sinew of water reared up as rings of silvery energy ran down the length of the attack. Fangs clenched tightly, Croconaw focused, and a wave of ice swept down the aqua jet, creating a thick spiral of water coiled up. Energy from the metal claw attack was also frozen in places, sparkling with silver light. Croconaw was encased in the icy sculpture, but with a sharp head butt, burst from the top of the structure, staring around with his claws outstretched. They still sparkled softly.

Milo looked at his Pokemon and nodded, happy with the display. Croconaw leapt off the top of the icy sculpture, but in doing so, the weak ice began to crack; flipping over as he soared down to the ground, Croconaw was met with a deluge of water as the fragile, frozen aqua jet coil burst. Water rained down on him as he landed to the ground; droplets fell delicately.

“What a lovely appeal,” said the nurse. “It seemed a bit shaky in places, particularly at the end, but it worked. Croconaw looked ferocious and powerful. Well done. I give it a 7.0.”

“Thanks,” Milo said.

“It was rushed,” Oscar said bluntly. “Not well thought out, and you’ve waterlogged the stage. 5.6.”

Milo felt a pang in his heart; he thought Oscar might have been quite kind.

“Certainly, triumph sits on a pedestal that you can never clamber!” Maxwell yelled. “You receive 6.9 from me.”

His head hung, Milo felt like he had been punched in the gut.

“Milo receives a 19.5 from the judges,” Lee announced. But as Lee started congratulating him, Milo walked off the stage, angered. Croconaw plodded after his trainer, fangs still sparkling with frosted ice crystals. He hadn’t even got a 20; that was an awful appeal. Milo sensed that Croconaw was angry at the way that his trainer had conducted the appeal, so said nothing to him as he sat down in the backstage area.

“Please welcome to the stage…Cecilia Higgins!” the MC cried.

Cecilia waved excitedly; looking on the screen, Milo could see her hurling her Pokeball through the air. As it burst open, her Roselia unleashed a petal dance attack, sending a breeze of dancing rose petals spiralling through the air as the Pokemon emerged. She must have ordered the attack as she threw the ball.

Roselia released clouds of a sweet-smelling perfume as the petals span around. The tiny Pokemon looked beautiful as she span around the vortex of petals; they were so light, so delicate, and they fell so slowly, dancing on the wind. Roselia charged energy in her buds and was suddenly glowing with an odd yellow glow; an aura filled her small body as she utilised photosynthesis. Cecilia looked proud of Roselia as she was enveloped in the empowering glow.

“Now, use pin missile!” Cecilia said. From the red and blue buds, Roselia blasted a barrage of white-hot pins. They slashed apart the dancing petals into soft pink shreds, which fell around as the pins sailed into the air. Twirling on the spot, Roselia began glowing again with synthesis as the pins clattered to the ground and the bed of petal shreds lay around her.

Members of the crowd cheered wildly as Cecilia bowed with grace. Roselia leapt to her trainers side as Cecilia anxiously waited for the judges to comment. Milo couldn’t see why Cecilia was so nervous; she had obviously performed very well.

“What an exciting display,” the nurse said to Cecilia. “Full of colour, light, beauty…I couldn’t fault it. 9.5.”

“Thank you!” she beamed.

“Just terrific, Cecilia,” Oscar said, smiling. “I loved the beauty and ferociousness of Roselia, with rose petals mixed with thorns. 9.8.”

“Exuberance, thy name is Roselia!” cried Maxwell. “A floret of fury so flamboyant, flames would fly and fester forever! Fantastic! 10!”

“That leaves Cecilia with 29.3 out of a possible 30!” Lee cried. “Well done!”

“I don’t know what to say!” Cecilia said excitedly, leaving the stage to rapturous applause. “I’m glad everyone enjoyed it.”

“Well done,” said Milo, as Cecilia waltzed into the room excitedly.

“Thank you sweetheart,” she said, giving him a quick squeeze. Milo breathed in a lungful of Cecilia’s sugary perfume as she pressed him into her. “Don’t worry about your appeal. I’m sure you’ll be brilliant.”

Milo smiled at Cecilia, although he wasn’t too sure why. A Tangela began unleashing vines on the stage, spinning wildly in a sort of breakdance routine. The trainer clicked his finger and nodded to a rhythm as Tangela wound himself into the air, using thicker vines as support. It was unique, and very bizarre, but Milo did not like staring at the mass of green vines. The Pokemon was rather disturbing.

This was it, thought Milo. He tried thinking back to the top scorers; if he had come in fourth place, he would be fine, but if there were at least four people with higher marks than his, he would be eliminated. The mood backstage was tense; Nancy was sitting with her head in her hands, whispering to herself, while Herman was licking the wall.

*

“THANK YOU FOR WAITING!” cried the MC. “We have had an amazing set of appeals today. But now it comes down to the nerve-racking results! The judges are going to announce the top four appeals, and those coordinators will go on to the battle rounds! Take it away, judges!”

“Okay,” said the nurse. “The first person going through to the battle round is Cecilia Higgins!”

“Oh goodness!” Cecilia cried. “Milo! I’m through!”

“Well done,” Milo said, chuckling. Cecilia clapped her hands excitedly as the crowd also showed their support.

“Also through is Nancy Norrit,” came the announcement. Nancy grinned at the news, punching the air in victory. Milo felt uneasy, his fingers knotting amongst each other.

“Next through is Samuel Sullivan!” said the MC. The Swablu trainer looked up and laughed with joy; Swablu, perched atop his head, began letting off a beautiful song. Milo began clenching his teeth, eyes locked to the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly to Croconaw. “We should have -”

“Milo Mitchelson!”

“WHAT?!”

Milo leapt from his seat as his picture came up on the screen, next to Sam, Nancy and Cecilia’s. His heart was pounding, his head dizzying…he had got through to the battle rounds. How? His score had been rather pitiful. It was still an okay score, he reminded himself, pacing back and forward, but he thought there had been much better performers. Maybe it was psychological.

“Milo!” Jake yelled, launching at him. Milo got a strong whiff of hair product as Jake hugged him tightly. Croconaw looked perplexed as Milo tried to prise the boy off him. “Well done! Well done! You did so well!”

“Thanks mate,” Milo muttered. Cecilia smiled from across the room as some of the failed coordinators sifted out of the backstage area. The MC announced a short interval to clear the stage and let the coordinators prepare for the next round, where the four finalists would be paired off to battle.

“I’m surprised you got through,” Maisy said, walking over. “I’m really glad you did though.”

“Thanks,” Milo said, smiling. “I’m a bit surprised, too. The appeal didn’t get a great score.”

“Oscar was really harsh,” Maisy said. “Don’t you think?”

“Well, that’s his job as a judge,” Milo told her.

“But he knows you,” chimed Jake. “And he was really unfair, especially since he doesn’t coordinate himself.”

“Exactly,” Maisy said. She seemed determined to get her point across. “It was like he was being mean on purpose.”

Her face faltered briefly. Milo looked at her suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at the last part of her remark.

“Do you know something?” he asked.

“What? No, I was just throwing ideas around,” Maisy said. Milo said nothing, studying her face for some sort of hint, some reaction. “You don’t think he wants you to fail, do you?”

“I’m starting to think so,” Milo admitted. “His comments and score were pretty harsh.”

“Look, it’s easy to jump to conclusions,” Jake said. “Milo, put suspicions to one side and kick ass! Croconaw is more than capable of getting you through to the finals, and then some.”

“You’re right,” Milo said, patting Jake on the shoulder. “I’m back in my comfort zone now. Oscar can try and fuck me up as much as he likes but it isn’t going to fucking work.”

*

The final four were mixed up and paired off. First was Cecilia versus Sam, then Milo versus Nancy. The winners would then face each other for the coveted Azalea Ribbon. While Jake fussed over Croconaw, applying a hydrating lotion to his skin, Milo twiddled his fingers, wishing he had a cigarette. On the stage, Cecilia’s Roselia was leaping out of the way as Swablu swept down with long, powerful strikes. It seemed that because Roselia was evading the attacks with such grace and beauty, her appeal gauge was not going down much when she took hits. Roselia repelled an attack by unleashing a barrage of sharp needles that shimmered as they reflected the light.

“You have to use the same Pokemon as the appeal stage, right?” Jake said. “So Nancy will be using her Torkoal. You can walk this.”

“It’s never that straightforward,” Milo said. “Just because water is strong against fire…”

“But Torkoal’s appeal is all focused around fire. That’s how it stops looking like an ugly little tortoise and conjures up great displays. With fire. And you can extinguish that. How will Torkoal’s appeal gauge be higher than yours?”

“Good point,” Milo muttered.

“You sound surprised,” Jake noted.

“I am,” Milo said. At this, Jake scooped a handful of lotion and threw it at Milo, where it splattered into his hair. As they joked around, Nancy sat in the corner, polishing her Torkoal’s shell.

The timer soon went on the match, and Cecilia had a much higher gauge than Sam. Roselia bowed as Sam recalled Swablu and left the stage, looking quite disappointed. Cecilia was to proceed to the finals, looking ecstatic at the news. In the back of his mind, Milo was aware that he would have to face up to her if he beat Nancy.

“Good luck,” Maisy said, giving Milo a gentle pat on the bottom. He walked off towards the stage with Croconaw recalled into his ball. Jake flicked his hair and sat down, having seen Maisy pat Milo. He frowned.

Milo got onto the stage and looked across at his opponent. Nancy mock-saluted him, grinning. The announcer was talking over the rules, which Milo was familiar with. The two would battle for five minutes, and the progress of their match would be shown on the Appeal Gauge. If an attack was executed with style and beauty, the foes appeal gauge would drop more. The person with the highest appeal gauge after the five minutes were up would be the winner, and would go on to face Cecilia in the finals.

His fingers pressed against the sequined, glitter-style Pokeball, Milo prepared to send Croconaw out. He remembered the day he captured Totodile, just north of Olivine City, and his frustration that he didn’t have any Pokeballs at the time, resulting in Jake lending him this disgustingly sparkly Pokeball.

“Are you both ready?” the announcer asked. Milo nodded. “BEGIN!”

“Torkoal!” Nancy shouted, throwing the ball into the air. It burst open, sending a spinning ball of light down to the ground. Merging from the light was the stout Torkoal, who gave a gasping wheeze and stamped his feet. Milo chuckled to himself and arched his arm back, hurling Croconaw’s Pokeball into the air. It span open and, in a shimmering hail of silver sparkles, Croconaw formed on the arena.

“Croconaw!” Milo said, stepping forward to catch the Pokeball as it fell back down. “Water gun!”

Croconaw opened his jaws and blasted a thick, foamy jet of water through the air. It struck Torkoal, who didn’t seem to have the agility to get out of the way. The force of the attack drove Torkoal across the arena, causing him to stagger back. Croconaw gave a cackle.

“Torkoal use smog!” Nancy shouted. He nodded and blasted thick coils of dark fog from his shell which soon began to cloak him. Milo and Croconaw watched as the other end of the arena was obscured by the smoky veil.

“Don’t do anything rash,” Milo said to Croconaw. “Wait.”

The alligator nodded, clenching his fists and breathing in deep grunts. Torkoal did nothing from his smoky cocoon, leading Milo to question what Nancy’s strategy was. The seconds passed by with nothing happening; smoke and fog was still being emitted by Torkoal. Nancy murmured something inaudible to her Pokemon.

Just as Milo had planned to launch an attack, Nancy yelled out from across the room.

“GO!”

Bursting from the smoky haze were a flurry of shimmering purple stars; they sped up into the air like rockets, fizzing and bursting with light. It took Milo a few moments to notice that their colour was due to the fact that they were on fire. Nancy had ignited a swift attack with Will-O-Wisp from within the smog haze; they burned bright with sinister embers of lavender and periwinkle blue.

The stars swept through the air and bolted towards Croconaw. On Milo’s command, Croconaw burst into an aqua jet attack, tearing into the sky as fast he could. However, the sharp stars all sliced into Croconaw with ease; he fell from the watery torpedo and crashed to the ground.

As Nancy received applause for her combo, Milo saw Croconaw’s appeal gauge drop. He got to his feet and clutched his head; he was covered in scratches already. Torkoal began to guffaw.

“Croconaw use water gun!” Milo shouted. Croconaw nodded and fired off a smaller, precise jet of water. It struck Torkoal in the side, causing him to stagger slightly. “Now go in for a metal claw!”

Torkoal looked as Croconaw leapt over, claws shimmering with a metallic sheen. He swung his claws left and right, raking them across the opponent’s tough shell. Upon contact with the thick shell, Croconaw’s claws let off sparks of silvery light. It looked beautiful; as if Croconaw was trying to light a fire by rubbing two sticks together, only with a luxurious sparkle. Milo was aware that Torkoal felt very little pain from the metal claw onslaught.

“Headbutt,” Nancy said. Torkoal tucked his head in and battered Croconaw in the stomach. Throwing his head up, Torkoal hurled Croconaw into the air, causing Croconaw to lose yet more points on his appeal gauge. The metal claw onslaught took a few points from Torkoal, but not many.

In truth, Milo felt helpless as he watched the battle. He needed to be more exciting, more stylish, but was having a hard time figuring out how to damage the tough fire-type with a flair.

“Go for an aqua tail,” Milo said. They used the technique rarely, so Milo was unsure to what extent Croconaw could pull it off. Nodding, Croconaw crouched on all fours and bolted along the arena. His tail glowed softly as he got closer to Torkoal, and Milo was astonished when water began to spiral out around Croconaw’s tail.

The alligator leapt into the air, twisting his body around. As he twisted, he wiggled his tail, and a spiralling corkskrew of water flew from his tail and smashed into Torkoal. Water droplets fell from mid-air; the attack looked absolutely incredible, and he had never even performed it like that before. As a Totodile, his tail had glowed and he had used it as a slicing attack. But with a larger, more powerful body, it seemed Croconaw was able to execute attacks much better.

“Torkoal!” Nancy cried, noticing his appeal gauge had lowered. “Yawn!”

Milo gasped. The attack would render Croconaw incredibly drowsy.

“Use aqua tail and spin around!” he shouted. Croconaw span on the spot; instinctively, he summoned a metal claw to give his claws a silvery sparkle. As he span, slivers of silver danced in the air. Soon, the glow from the aqua tail pulsated into a spiralling twist of water. While Croconaw span, the aqua tail span around him, encasing him in a vortex of water. Tiny sparkles of his metal claw could still be seen. Milo watched, in awe of Croconaw’s natural meld of attacks.

He had ordered the attack for two reasons. The first was that he needed to mask the sound of Torkoal’s yawn attack, so using water as a barrier between the two Pokemon would distort and rupture the passage of sound. The second reason was that Croconaw needed to avoid looking at Torkoal; had Milo ordered a screech attack, he would still block the yawn sound, but if Croconaw watched Torkoal yawn then he would surely get sleepy himself.

A swirling vortex of sparkling silver water still encased Croconaw, and Torkoal looked worried. Milo pointed at the tortoise.

“Go into an aqua jet! NOW!”

From the shadowy vortex, a torpedo of water burst forth. The crowd gasped as Croconaw sped through the air, twisting his body as he used a metal claw to boost the attack’s beauty. Torkoal brought up an iron defence, coating his shell in a metallic coat. It seemed useless, however. Croconaw ploughed into Torkoal’s side and bowled him completely over. Breaking from the attack, Croconaw landed with precision as a surge of water soaked Torkoal.

Torkoal’s appeal gauge dropped dramatically. Milo saw the judges chattering excitedly, and wondered if it was the complexity of the attack that had helped. Getting back up, Torkoal shook excess water off and stamped his feet. He blasted a jet of fire into the air threateningly.

“Bring it on,” Milo murmured. Time was running out, so he needed to make sure his appeal gauge did not drop below Nancy’s. Torkoal charged along the arena, blasting thick white smoke behind him, before leaping high up above Croconaw. His limbs were tucked in and he swept down in a body slam. Croconaw jumped out of the way and rolled to safety.

“Gyro ball!” Nancy cried. Still keeping himself tucked in, Torkoal shimmered silver and span around on the spot. Silvery energy rose above the Pokemon’s body, forming into a smooth, round ball. Giving a long, loud roar, Torkoal leapt up and launched the gyro ball. It span through the air and flew at Croconaw, who pulled a face and staggered back.

“Don’t run away!” Milo yelled. “Fire an ice beam at it!”

The metallic orb had an erratic pattern as it zig-zagged through the air. Croconaw spread his legs and clenched his fists; he opened his jaws and fired off a thick, pearly beam of ice at the gyro ball. The ball curved left and was not hit at all; seeing it get close, Croconaw leapt forward wildly and sank his teeth into the silvery attack.

“Fucking hell,” Milo said. “Er. Good work!”

Croconaw concentrated hard and his fangs pierced the orb further.

“Ice Fang!”

Croconaw screwed his eyes shut and sank his teeth further into the thick ball of steel. It began to glaze over and sparkle; the audience watched with anticipation as the frosted steel shimmered. Croconaw then began spinning around wildly on the spot, before letting go of the orb and firing off the gyro ball right at Torkoal. The tortoise did not get out of the way in time and the gyro ball smashed into his body; the icy shards flew all around as Torkoal was thrown to the ground.

“Torkoal has been knocked out!” shouted the MC.

“What?” Nancy snapped. “Torkoal! Get up!”

But he did not. Milo grinned, giving Croconaw the thumbs up as Nancy started ranting at her unconscious Torkoal.

“A fantastic ice fang by Croconaw!” cried the Pokemoncenter Nurse. “Taking Torkoal’s high-speed attack and sending it back was a great technique. It required such accuracy.”

“The fantastical entity of water, ice and steel used by Croconaw was a feast for the senses!” cried the mayor shrilly.

“Milo goes on to face Cecilia in the finals, which will be held in ten minutes time!” the MC announced. Feeling a fluttering in his stomach (could he win the contest? It certainly seemed plausible…), Milo walked backstage with Croconaw. Torkoal hadn’t been too difficult to beat - he didn’t seem too capable in battle, and it seemed to reiterate what Meredith told Milo all the way back in Olivine City. Appeal Pokemon shouldn’t be relied on to battle, and battle Pokemon shouldn’t be relied on to appeal.

“Awesome work!” Jake said backstage. “Croconaw is amazing!”

“Isn’t he,” Milo said. “I was amazed at his aqua tail. I didn’t expect that.”

“He’s grown into his body so easily,” Jake said. “I think it’s because you trained him so much as a Totodile.”

Milo let the compliment wash over him and looked around the backstage area. A few coordinators still sat and watched the contest; others seem to have gone home. Cecilia was touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, but her Roselia scowled at Milo. As the arena was cleaned up and the timer reset, Oscar watched Milo intently, a fist clenched.

*

“Here we are!” cried the MC. “A nail-biting series of matches and appeals have led us to this very moment. The finale of the Azalea contest!”

The crowd cheered loudly, screaming and applauding.

“Milo and Cecilia are competing for the grand prize of £500 and the town’s ribbon,” he continued. “Milo has already won ribbons in Ecruteak and Goldenrod City, and looks set to give Cecilia a run for her money! But local Cecilia has competed here before and certainly has a few tricks up her sleeve!”

“Good luck,” mouthed Cecilia, from across the stage. She smiled fondly at Milo, who smiled back. The scoreboard was brought up, and five minutes set on the timer. The judges all watched keenly as the MC let out a cry. The match begun.

“Croconaw!” Milo shouted, hurling the ball through the air. “GO!”

“Come out, Roselia!” Cecilia cooed, throwing the Pokeball onto the arena. The small floral Pokemon burst from her ball in a burst of fragrant powder as Croconaw materialised opposite. Milo smirked; while he had to rely on Croconaw’s water attacks to take down Torkoal, he would need to focus on his ice attacks if he wished to eradicate the grass-type.

“Croconaw use aqua tail!” Milo yelled. “Spin!”

Nodding, Croconaw started dancing on the spot, wiggling his tail as it glowed blue. Water coiled from the tip, spiralling around Croconaw as he span, encasing him in sparkling ribbons of water. Cecilia watched, nodding to herself.

“Roselia use a petal dance and razor leaf combo!”

The little Pokemon held both her buds out, smiling calmly at the crowd. As she twirled, small shreds of pink petals burst from her blue bud. They then blended with a collection of sharp leaves summoned from Roselia’s red bud, and the entire thing sped through the air in a twisting vortex.

“Aqua jet!” Milo yelled. From within his watery cocoon, Croconaw clenched his fists and boosted up into the air as Roselia slashed apart the water with her deadly combo. As Croconaw shot down towards Roselia, encased in the torpedo of water, Milo could see his Pokemon’s appeal gauge drop ever so slightly. It seemed Roselia’s beautiful petals mixed with razor-sharp leaves impressed the judges, even though it didn’t hit Croconaw.

Croconaw leapt out of the aqua jet attack and opened his jaws, firing a huge beam of ice through the air. Roselia gasped as it struck her; she was hurtled backwards by the frosty blast. Elated at striking the foe, and seeing the appeal gauge dip, Croconaw let out a long roar.

“Roselia!” Cecilia said, noticing the cold air had stiffened her petite grass Pokemon. “Sweet scent!”

Nodding, she blasted thick clouds of peach-coloured scent into the air. Milo knew the aroma would make Croconaw drawn to the rose Pokemon, and was keen for him to attack from a distance.

“Ice beam!” ordered Milo. Croconaw nodded and opened his jaws, firing off another precise jet of freezing moisture. Roselia, her feet seemingly stuck, held her flowered buds out and blasted a volley of seeds in an attempt to block the attack. However, the ice beam froze the seeds and smashed into Roselia just like before; she let out a soft cry as she flew through the air and thumped into the ground.

“Roselia!” Cecilia yelled. The Pokemon got back up. “Honey, use a synthesis.”

The Pokemon wrapped her flowered appendages around her body and closed her eyes. Milo saw this as the perfect opportunity to strike the Pokemon up close as she gained back some energy. He told Croconaw to race forward and use a metal claw.

Croconaw bound across the arena on all fours, showing his prowess for moving fast on land. His claws began sparkling with a metallic sheen before he extended them for the attack; as a result, silvery sparks bolted behind Croconaw as he ran. Milo thought he looked phenomenal, almost unreal.

Leaping up, Croconaw gave a long roar and brandished his sparkling metal claws. He swung across, but Roselia opened her eyes and ducked, evading the attack. Croconaw looked dumbfounded as Roselia held a bud forward and sent a handful of exploding seeds at the alligator. The seed bomb hurtled Croconaw onto his back, where he smacked his head and stared at the ceiling.

“What the?!” said Milo. Wasn’t Roselia using synthesis?

“It seems Roselia feigned using synthesis to lure Croconaw over,” the announcer shouted. Roselia then leapt forward and blasted a thick green seed into Croconaw’s neck, causing him to roar in frustration as it burrowed beneath his skin.

“Leech seed!” Milo snapped. “Croconaw!”

Milo’s Pokemon was scratching his neck irritably, trying to dislodge the seed. Roselia gave a girlish chuckle and leapt backwards, summoning a sweeping cloak of pink petals to surround her. On her command, the petals swirled towards Croconaw, striking and dizzying him as he was assaulted.

“Okay, we can’t get that seed out easily,” Milo said to Croconaw, who was back at his side. “You’re going to feel weaker and weaker, so we need to attack with full power, full speed and full accuracy. Demolish this thing. Okay?”

Croconaw nodded, his face contorting as the leech seed drained some of his energy.

“Strike Roselia with a water gun!”

Roselia saw Croconaw opening his jaws and she leapt into the air to evade. The jet of water missed her and she held her buds out as they glowed with a pulsating green energy. Strips of organic energy began to build into the orb that Roselia charged, with citrus colours and bright light melding together. Milo recognised it as an energy ball, and knew that he would be in trouble if Croconaw was struck by it.

“Screech!” Milo said. Croconaw opened his jaws and let out a long, savage scream. The waves of sonic energy stung Milo’s ears; he cupped his hands over them and grinned as the audience, the judges and Roselia winced in reaction to the noise. Roselia gasped, struggling to contain the ball. Croconaw blasted a water gun through the air and struck Roselia, propelling the energy ball into the wall, where it burst into a sweeping mass of bright golden light and green energy.

Milo let out a sigh as he saw Roselia’s appeal gauge fall once more. Croconaw clapped his hands and fired off an ice beam, which Roselia leapt out of the way to avoid. She retaliated by firing a volley of seed bombs through the air; the seeds exploded wildly like fireworks, but they were not aimed at Croconaw. Instead, the series of explosions were a distraction; a veil to mask the rose Pokemon’s race across the arena. Croconaw saw Roselia leap at him; thorns protruded from her flowers and she swiped them like a weapon across his chest.

“Metal claw!” Milo snapped. Croconaw swiped his claws across at the foe and blocked Roselia’s swipe; she flipped back and summoned another razor leaf attack. Thin leaves span across the arena like sharpened blades; they sliced at Croconaw, who was leaping and ducking in an effort to get out of the way. His efforts were futile; there were just too many leaves.

“Aqua Tail!” Milo shouted, ordering Croconaw to spin as he performed the attack. Spirals of water coiled from Croconaw’s tail until the sinewing watery vortex whipped around him like delicate ribbons of ice-cold water.

“Full power!” Cecilia cried. “Leaf Storm!”

Roselia began to throb with energy as the leaves came thicker and faster. Some were bigger, some were a darker shade; some even flew along faster, almost possessed. Milo knew that the leaves were strong enough to tear apart the watery cocoon surrounding Croconaw, which would probably cause his own appeal gauge to drop.

“Freeze the watery veil with an ice beam!” Milo said. Croconaw fired off a thick beam of ice through the air, striking the spinning cyclone of water. It began to freeze in place, but also captured some of the leaf storm as it collided into the attack. The icy sculpture sparkled as it froze the oncoming leaves.

“The leaves are suspended in the cerulean ice sculpture that frames Croconaw,” noted the Pokemoncenter nurse. “It looks simply wonderful.”

Milo cheered but saw Croconaw buckle as his strength was sapped by the leech seed. Roselia grinned as she began to feed off the opponent. Knocking her out was going to be a challenge, so Milo had to win purely on points. But it was still quite even, and time was running out.

“Roselia use petal dance!” Cecilia cried. She danced from her side of the arena as petals began to spin around her. Croconaw slashed apart his icy creation with a metal claw attack and let out a screech. Thick chunks of ice, some with leaves embedded into them, thudded onto the arena around Croconaw. Milo had an idea. As Roselia twirled, he recalled that petal dance could dizzy the foes if they did it for long enough. She seemed quite preoccupied as petals danced on the air.

“Pick up a chunk of ice and throw it into the air,” Milo said. “Then force it into Roselia with a water gun.”

Cecilia gasped as she heard Milo’s command, but it was too late. Roselia staggered out of her petal dance as Croconaw hurled a thick piece of ice into the air. He aimed his mouth and fired off a water gun; it hit the ice and propelled it right into Roselia, where it smashed into her frail frame and shattered into pieces.

“Get up! Giga Drain!” Cecilia cried. Croconaw summoned sparkling metallic claws as Roselia got to her feet and started leaping forward at him. She began to intimidate Croconaw as she raced along, firing exploding seeds high into the air. The miniature firework display seemed to please the audience. Milo saw Croconaw wince as the leech seed sapped more of his energy, but knew they were close to victory.

Time was ticking down; there was hardly any time left, and Milo needed to take more points from Roselia’s gauge or he would lose. Briefly, Milo could see Oscar watching the match with intent. Roselia’s buds throbbed green as she propelled herself high into the air; Croconaw could see her soaring down to strike.

“Ice beam!” Milo yelled. Unfortunately the beam of ice narrowly missed Roselia and she caused a small needle to protrude from her red bud. With a quick joust she stabbed Croconaw, whose eyed widened in horror, and his energy was soon leeched from his body.

Roselia smiled as Croconaw screwed his face up in agony. His knees were buckling as he stood there, gasping for air. Milo saw him flexing his claws and had an idea.

“Croconaw! Manipulate the ice into your fists!” he shouted, thinking of how Nancy’s Machoke did a similar thing the previous day, but with fire. Croconaw closed his eyes shut and seemed to concentrate, but Roselia twisted her bud and send a searing pain through the alligator’s body.

“Come on!” Milo yelled. “Deep breaths. Let the ice travel to the exterior of your fingers.”

A faint icy sparkle materialised on Croconaw’s paws. Milo smiled as Roselia casually drained the Pokemon’s energy. Soon ice was fully encasing Croconaw’s hands, causing a brighter sparkle of white light all around.

“Now! APPLAUDE!”

Croconaw opened his eyes and swung both his hands together. Roselia, being in front of Croconaw and thus between his outstretched hands, felt two sweeping hands of icy energy collide into her head. Upon contact, Croconaw pressed hard and sent the icy particles sweeping into Roselia’s body. She gasped, staggering back and causing her needle to leave Croconaw’s body. As this happened, Croconaw whipped his tail around and smashed it into the foe; as she flipped up, he fired off an ice beam that struck her body in mid-air and threw her back to Cecilia, encased in a faint shell of ice.

“Roselia has been frozen!” the announcer yelled. She lay on the ground, glazed with the icy sheen, not moving whatsoever. “She is unable to battle. With just four seconds left on the timer, Milo Mitchelson is the winner!”

“Nice work mate!” Milo said to Croconaw. He held his hand out and Croconaw delivered a high five, but with his paws still being encased in ice, Milo felt a sharp stinging sweep up his arm. Confetti burst from the ceiling as the judges led the applause, standing to congratulate Milo on his efforts. Grinning widely, Milo looked to see Jake and Maisy waving from backstage, cheering and looking proud. Cecilia recalled Roselia and beamed at Milo, not looking disheartened in the slightest.

“Congratulations for winning the Azalea Contest,” said the MC. “Here is a cheque for £500 and the Azalea Ribbon.”

Milo took the ribbon and admired it; it was a silvery disc with a leaf engraved on it; the ribbon surrounding the disc was a deep green with tiny silver stars dotted on it. Opening his ribbon case, Milo pinned the Azalea Ribbon in next to the ones he won in Goldenrod and Ecruteak.

Jake, meanwhile, was shocked as he saw Oscar slip away backstage and disappear. While everyone applauded Milo’s efforts, Jake bit his lip, feeling suspicious about Oscar’s attitude.

*

“To Milo!” Cecilia called out, raising her glass.

“To Milo!” chimed in Jake.

“Well done honey,” Cecilia said, sipping her wine. “I don’t normally drink wine during the week…but this is a special occasion. You were marvellous today, you really were.”

“Are you sure you’re not upset at losing?” Milo said.

“Oh shush now,” she said, batting him away with her hand. “Contests are a bit of fun. Nobody should be upset at losing. You and Croconaw worked very hard.”

“He was amazing,” Jake said. “His attacks are so polished. That aqua tail…err, wow?”

“I know,” Milo said. “I wonder if I can try and develop a whirlpool attack a bit more. Creating one from aqua tail is time-consuming…”

They dined on roast chicken that night, served with garlic and rosemary roast potatoes. Milo ate greedily; Cecilia’s food was just wonderful. Jake picked around the sprouts and shuffled them around his plate with his fork, while Cecilia topped up the glasses of wine when they were only half full. It had been a long day, and seemed like eons ago that Milo was leaving Maisy’s house to get to the contest. It had been exhausting; he was certain, after the appeal, that he would have lost.

“Maybe if you feel that way, you should keep Croconaw for battles?” Cecilia said.

“Medicham can do both,” Jake reminded him. “And Scyther could learn an appeal if you trained him.”

“What about Magnemite?” Cecilia said.

“Damn Magnemite,” Milo said. “I don’t know what to do with that guy. He’s just…difficult to train.”

“If only there were an electric gym,” Cecilia said. “There isn’t one for a long way away.”

“What about Jasmine?” Jake said. “She used to be a steel gym leader, and she has Magnemite.”

“Jasmine and I aren’t on speaking terms,” Milo pointed out. “And I don’t know where she is now. I’ll get something sorted with Magnemite. Might do some training tomorrow.”

Milo didn’t like thinking about tomorrow. Or the future in general. He was very happy in Azalea, and sitting with Jake and Cecilia made him think about how perfect everything was. He had no phone, hadn’t been on the internet for weeks, and was beginning to understand budgeting. With three official Johto ribbons in his smart ribbon case, Milo wondered if he had finally proved his point to Mia about competing in contests. He had three ribbons; more than she had obtained when she left Pua Samoa (although he was sure she had more now).

Undoing a notch on his belt, Milo leant back and prepared for the final course.

*

After a hearty meal and more wine, Milo clambered into his bed and listened to Jake explain his plans to catch a Roselia of his own. It was so warm in the house that Milo felt his eyelids droop almost as soon as he hit the pillow, and savoured the wonderful feeling of slipping into a deep sleep.

Unfortunately he was jerked awake by a loud tapping noise. Blinking to clear the gunk from his eyes, Milo looked around as Jake walked to the window. Someone, or something, was rapping the glass frantically.

“For the love of GaGa,” Jake sighed, opening the curtains. He saw Maisy at the window, gripping tightly onto a thick piece of sticky silk. Jake let out a squeal, causing Milo to hiss and urge him to keep his voice down. It was the middle of the night, and Cecilia would be trying to sleep.

“Maisy?” Milo asked, getting up. “What the fuck?”

“I came here to warn you,” she said, as Milo opened the window.

“How are you…” Milo said. “Hovering?”

“My father’s Ariados is on the roof,” Maisy said, showing him the thick silk wrapped around her waist and gripped in her hands.

“What did you want to warn us about?” Jake asked.

“I just found out the reason Oscar stormed out of the contest,” Maisy said. “He volunteered to judge because he wanted to try and fix it so that you lost. He was furious when you won.”

“He wanted me to lose?” Milo said. “Why?”

“The idea was that if you lost, you’d stay around and compete when it runs again in four weeks,” Maisy said.

“He wants me to stay here?” Milo said.

“Well now you won the contest, he’s changed his plans,” Maisy said. “Tomorrow night, he wants to welcome you into The Apricorn Guild.”

“Really?” Milo asked. Maisy nodded.

“He thinks you’re going to leave town tomorrow, so he’s trying to get you to stay until you join the guild. He’s hoping that you’ll stay longer once you’ve joined the Guild.”

“What is the Guild, exactly?” Milo said.

“It’s a secret society,” Maisy told him. “Within Azalea Town. Oscar is prominent within it, but with the economic crisis in Azalea, the Guild is split in how to help Azalea’s future.”

“And how can I help?” Milo asked. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Maisy said, looking furtively around her. “Look. Tomorrow, Oscar will ask you to join him in the Azalea Chambers -”

“Where are they?” Milo asked. Maisy looked at him, smirking.

“You don’t know about the Chambers?”

“We’ve been here like, three days,” Jake told her. Maisy chuckled.

“Did you see the well, at the entrance to the town?” she said. The boys both nodded. “Ha. It isn’t a well. It’s the entrance to the Chambers, these ancient cave structures that exist beneath Azalea Town. There’s even a small lake down there. It’s where we get our water from, actually.”

“Lovely,” Milo said.

“The founders of Azalea built their houses upon the Chambers and constructed entrances to the vast network beneath them, in case of emergencies and stuff,” Maisy explained. “The oldest families in Azalea town - The Stallong family, Cecilia, Oscar, my family - our basements all lead down into the Chambers. Eli’s family also have an entrance in the basement of The Mucky Pup.”

“That’s amazing,” Milo said.

“There’s also an exit in Ilex Forest. Oscar used it to find you guys when you ran into a bit of trouble,” Maisy recalled. “And that’s how he got back to Azalea before you.”

“Has he been watching us?” Jake asked.

“He’s been watching Milo, that’s for sure,” Maisy said. “He was even in Goldenrod while you guys were. He’s really keen to get you in the Guild.”

There was a noise outside, causing Maisy to gasp. She looked around hesitantly.

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me,” she said. “And remember. Oscar will approach you tomorrow.”

“What should I do?” Milo asked. “Is it safe?”

“I don’t know,” she said sadly, disappearing. Milo looked out the window to see her clamber onto the roof. Ariados shot a string shot into the trees behind Cecilia’s house. Getting something out from her bag, Maisy hooked onto the string and sped down into the overgrowth. Ariados scuttled onto the string and delicately followed.

“This is fucked up,” Milo hissed, closing the window. Jake sat on the end of his bed, looking confused.

“If he’s so interested in you, why did he sleep with me?” he asked.

“Why does he want me?” Milo asked. “Is he recruiting minions? Does he think I’m an emotionless drone? I could kick the shit out of that punk.”

“Are you going to?” Jake asked.

“No,” Milo murmured, climbing into bed. “I’m going to accept his offer. Join this Guild.”

“What if it’s dangerous? What if he hurts you?” Jake asked fearfully. Milo smirked.

“If he hurts me, I’ll hurt him right back,” he said. “G’night.”




Next time....
Milo's training with Magnemite is disturbed when Medicham begins to suffer a mental breakdown, affecting everybody around her and evoking a new, dangerous facet to her telekinesis. Meanwhile, Oscar sets the wheels in motion for Milo's entry into The Apricorn Guild, but things take a sour turn deep beneath Azalea Town.....



Notes
-A few scenes were taken out of Ch20. The chapter had like 10 extra pages :-/
-Zach, the kid whose Drifloon choked him in Ecruteak's Contest, re-appeared with a Zubat that drained his blood and made him collapse. Since Roselia would use giga drain later, I didn't like having it in there so I took it out.
-This chapter was a nightmare to write. I just haven't been in the right frame of mind to do battles or appeals. So its taken aaaaages.
-I think it cements the idea that contests are not the main part of the fic. Contests, the Reclassification and team developments are all secondary to the main story, which I feel is about Milo Mitchelson and his life.
-Maxwell was based off a guy that used to come into the bar I work in. He would sip a cocktail and spin endless long-winded words out of his mouth. If you grab a dictionary, you'll see most the words he said are used in the entirely wrong context. XD
-I think Croconaw totally came into his own here. He's got a good strong array of attacks, and Milo's obviously very proud of him.
-The next arc is ALL about Magnemite. Like, seriously. Magnemite is really important in the next ones. He was caught in like Ch15, and he hasn't done anything useful, but you have to remember he was caught to rig slot machines. Milo's just kept him as a convinience.
-There was more in this chapter between Jake and Maisy, who was shocked that Oscar slept with Jake. They had all these bitchy arguments but I didn't want it to dilute the contesty stuffs. Maisy has known Oscar for years and obviously had no idea he liked guys, so she essentially provoked Jake by saying he made it up.
-Anyway since it's deleted, just take it to mean Maisy has heard about what happened, and is just in a state of confusion. Kind of like everyone.
-Oscar's sudden appearences in peoples houses and stuff might be explained by The Chambers. These tunnelling passages between the houses. They're going to be fun to explore next chapter.
-As for Medicham's illness....she's really stressed and upset and it begins to have an affect on her psychic control.
-Milo ends up unlocking aspect of Medicham's telekinesis, and it's really crucial in upcoming chapters.
-Been planning the next arc after Azalea. It's going to be very exciting.
-But first, we have the big last chapter in the Azalea Arc. It's called Headache, after (a) Medicham's problems and (b) because they give you a hellova one the next day.
-Everything comes to a head at Milo's initiation ceremony, we learn what Oscar has planned, Jake gets the truth out of Oscar, and we see some epic battles. But one of the boys has to make a huge sacrifice for the greater good....


Okay! Thanks for reading guys, speak soon

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

I think it cements the idea that contests are not the main part of the fic. Contests, the Reclassification and team developments are all secondary to the main story, which I feel is about Milo Mitchelson and his life.

I can totally agree with this. I already told you that your strongest point in this fic is the overlapping fantasy world you created that features elements of both the real and the pokemon world. Sex, drugs, alcohol, betrayal, jobs, economic crisis, sexuality-struggle, etc, all these 'serious' elements got into this pokemon fic. That's what I call a splendid cocktail

The sacrafice for the good? Could it be leaving Maisy? Poor Milo..

Curious about Medicham, though, could be a lot of trouble.

Azalea arc has been my favorite, it was legendary. I've grown quite fond of Maisy in particular, but most important the 'vibe' that Azalea gave me.

Although I'm actually keen on hearing something about Chuck...

[PancaKe]

I loved this! I don't usually enjoy battles as much, but I enjoyed the way you make them unique with new attack strategies etc.
I liked the introduction to the chapter, although I felt that some of the sex was a bit excessive. In saying that, I've got no idea what that lifestyle is like, so perhaps taking advice on how to write a sex scene from me is a bad idea.
Actually, you should probably include warnings before your chapters when you are going to have sex scenes in them and stuff. You didn't have explicit sex, but enough to necessitate a classification anyway.
I have really enjoyed these past few chapters. I am becoming rather attached to the humble town that is Azalea, although I would like to see him go other places too. I'm becoming rather attached to Milo now.
Your notes about what happened in the previous chapter are incredibly helpful, and remind me of Pearl and Diamond
That is all for now

[Sike Saner]

Maxwell got such a O___o;;; reaction out of me... X3

And Herman was... oh God. XD That's easily one of the most entertaining appeals I've ever read about--I'd give it a fricking ten for sheer lolworthiness. X3 (Though I'd have been inclined to give a lower score if he'd succeeded in fully depantsing himself. X3; )

Other stuff I wanted to comment on:

“Now use flash!”

Torkoal had various holes in its shell; this was where it planted big pieces of coal to burn in the fiery furnace that was its body. From each of the holes, each differing in size, a red-hot flash of light glowed; fire stoked within. As the thick blanket of smoke veiled Torkoal, these red chunks burned bright through the smoke, like a cluster of sinister eyes. The real Torkoal was nowhere to be seen.

I thought Torkoal's method of using flash was pretty interesting.

“Yea, it’s like he has a dictionary jammed up his ass,” Jake said. Milo looked him quizzically. “What?”

“Usually someone would say ‘it’s like they swallowed a dictionary’, that’s like, the phrase that people use,” Milo told him.

“My phrase still got the point across,” Jake reminded him.

He had to shove the dictionary up his ass, Milo. There was no room to put it in the other end because he'd already gone and swallowed a thesaurus. X3

“I am,” Milo said. At this, Jake scooped a handful of lotion and threw it at Milo, where it splattered into his hair.

Splat! XD Yeah, I thought that was funny.

Bursting from the smoky haze were a flurry of shimmering purple stars; they sped up into the air like rockets, fizzing and bursting with light. It took Milo a few moments to notice that their colour was due to the fact that they were on fire. Nancy had ignited a swift attack with Will-O-Wisp from within the smog haze; they burned bright with sinister embers of lavender and periwinkle blue.

Cool attack combination there. ^^



This upcoming development you mentioned involving Medicham is already very intriguing in an "uh-oh..." sort of way. o.o I'm definitely interested to see how that goes... Next chapter sounds interesting as hell in general, for that matter. I look forward to it. ^^

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Hey! The 'sacrifice' I alluded to is far worse than leaving Maisy. To be honest, I don't think Milo is too invested in Maisy emotionally. Although she does seem quite fond of him...

I'm glad you liked Azalea. Structurally, the arc has really worked quite well. We'll see a similar thing in Violet and Cherrygrove. As for Chuck, his role grows in later chapters of the fic.....

Pancake: Hey! Good shout about the sex references...maybe I didn't need to be so graphic? :/ Azalea is such a cute little town, and I think that when Milo and Jake choose to leave it will be a really sad time. I'm glad you're attached to Milo......I knew people would start liking him

Sike: Herman would have loved you to be on the judging panel! Haha glad you liked the contest. Medicham's new powers.......hmm. It's been something I've been really excited to explore, a kind of inner sci-fi-geek emerging. Oooof I'm excited



Thanks guys! Just writing Ch21 now. It's going to be a bit shorter than normal chapters, but in the sense that it's the 'perfect length'. The contest was a huge obstacle...I found it really hard to write. Now things are flowing very freely

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Also, what's in a Tokyo Rose?

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: A Tokyo Rose is a measure of vodka, sake rice wine and midori melon liqeur, served in a short glass, two cubes of ice and a cherry. It's sharp but very fragrant. I thought it was a great cocktail to characterise Roselia's ferocity.





Okay! Ch21 is here. But ironically, despite me feeling it was going to be shorter than normal, it turned out to be bigger than most chapters. Whoops. Pay attention!!



Previously
-Milo and his new Croconaw entered the Azalea Contest
-Milo won his third ribbon
-Maisy let slip that Oscar wanted Milo to join The Apricorn Guild

Show-Off
-XXI-
Headache

Medicham looked around. Her head was aching, sometimes stinging, and her hands were pulsating with energy beyond her control. Contained in her Pokeball, she felt trapped and scared. Despite her heartbeats feeling frantic and her eyes bloodshot and sore, she tried to focus on getting out of the Pokeball. Mentally, she scanned the area for the latch.

A second later she was quietly hurtled onto the floor. Looking up, she saw Milo and Jake both fast asleep in their beds. Medicham gasped as her hands continued to hurt and a bubbling anxiety filled her head. Turning, she saw an alarm clock rise up into the air, shaking. Milo’s trainers also floated off the ground eerily. Medicham clicked her fingers, opening the door, and she bolted out into the hallway.

Pictures wobbled on the walls, threatening to fall; the water in a huge vase of flowers rose from within in tiny droplets. Medicham panicked at the sight of more floating objects and ran down the stairs, trying to escape, but as she came towards the hallway, she was met with more floating items. Screwing her face, she concentrated hard, trying to keep them at bay. The phone slid off the hook and bobbed in the air; the grandfather clock’s hands began to spin manically.

Bustling into the kitchen, Medicham tried to use the taps and get a cold drink. Maybe she was just hot? As she turned the tap on, cold water gushed out, but curved and bolted up into the air, spraying like a haunted fountain. Eyes wide in horror, Medicham stumbled into a cupboard and a flurry of pans, pots and cutlery swept out. She clenched her fists and screwed her eyes shut - concentrate, concentrate! But it was useless. Knocking over a large potted plant, Medicham saw clumps of soil rising up to the ceiling and leaves dancing on the air.

Plates that hovered in the kitchen were provoking and unkind. Medicham turned to look at one and it simply reduced to powder before her eyes, shattering into a million tiny fragments. The curtains flapped despite their being no wind, and Medicham stumbled back into a corner of the room. Unfurling on its own, the rug rose from the ground and reared like a cobra awakening from a slumber. Holding her hands out, blocking the images from her eyes, Medicham was alarmed when a frying pan flew into the wall with a clang.

“Medicham!”

Milo raced into the kitchen and cursed loudly at the zoo of objects parading around the room. Many floated ominously, some swept around in frenzied loops. Others began shattering the minute Medicham looked at them. Medicham screwed her eyes shut and the light which Milo turned on shattered at the bulb. She didn’t have the energy to keep him away. But she had to warn him.

“Is she okay?” Cecilia asked.

“I don’t know. Everything’s flying around. It’s her telekinesis,” Milo said. “Medicham?”

If she looked, touched or even concentrated on Milo too much, Medicham was petrified that she would reduce him to pieces. Small flecks of the powdered plate filled the air. Medicham cowered in the corner, the walls peeling somewhat. Jake was speaking, but Medicham did not listen. She concentrated on the floor.

“She’s lost control,” Milo said.

“I’ve never seen it this powerful before. She isn’t even concentrating.” Jake said.

“Medicham?” Milo asked, inching forward. He was flung through the air and smashed into the kitchen door. Collapsing onto his front, Milo let out a long groan. Cecilia rushed to his side. Medicham was glad Milo was not badly hurt; if he got too close, who knows what could happen.

A familiar, moustached creature loomed over Medicham. Even when she was awake, she seemed not to be able to hide from the formidable Kazaar, William’s Alakazam. Tears that leaked from her face siphoned off into the air; Medicham looked around, noticing the three humans watching from the opposite corner of the room. Alakazam was guffawing, pointing his gnarled finger and causing Medicham to scream in apparent agony.

Medicham looked to see hundreds of strings sweeping across the kitchen. Sticky threads that were forming nets that trapped the appliances. Why did these nets not tear apart under Medicham’s powerful psychic attacks? A trembling finger touched the nearest string. It was speckled with green, and as Medicham took a deep sniff, she began to feel calmer, tired.

She collapsed in a heap on the ground, fast asleep.

“The room’s a bit of a mess,” Jake said, looking at the webs all around Cecilia’s once spotless kitchen. “But at least you didn’t have any more of your things reduced to powder.”

“Indeed,” Cecilia said. “Coating string shot with a sleep powder. You’re such a smart boy, Jake.”

“I’ll help you clean it up today,” Jake said. “What time is it?”

“05:37AM,” Cecilia noted. “No sense in going back to bed really, is there. Are you tired, Milo?”

Milo stood over the sleeping Medicham. He touched the side of her face with his hand, tears in his eyes. She looked so peaceful, so calm. So different than before, when she was a cowering wreck amid a sea of wild, ferocious objects.

“I’ve never seen that happen before,” he admitted quietly. “It was like her PSI was leaking or something. Things were moving but she didn’t want them to. All it took was for her to look at something and it just…shattered.”

He picked her up in his arms, getting her Pokeball out and recalling the monkey into her safe home. Jake walked over and put a hand on Milo’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“What should I do?” Milo asked.

“She seemed distraught; stressed,” Cecilia said, cutting her kettle out of the string net. “Why don’t you go to see Sylvie Stallong today?”

“Sylvester’s mum?” Milo asked.

“She’s a fantastic specialist on herbs and aromatherapy,” Cecilia said. “Maybe she can give you something to calm Medicham down.”

“Maybe,” Milo said, clutching his Pokeball. Distantly, his fingers traced the engraving on the black and gold Pokeball.

*

Milo and Jake had stayed up from then on, drinking copious mugs of coffee and tidying Cecilia’s kitchen. Paras and Scyther slashed apart the string shots and Jake’s Ditto transformed into a Gulpin, swallowing any debris and rubbish that they came across. As they cleaned, Cecilia’s Roselia danced behind them, spraying beautiful aromas.

They had a quick lunch before Milo and Jake left to go and see Sylvie Stallong. It was a pleasant day in Azalea today, with the fantastic blue sky looking dreamy and opulent. As the sun beat down on the back of the boys necks, Milo felt the excessive coffee give him a slight twitch.

It did not take long to arrive at the Stallong’s large house. Milo’s assumption that the family had built the house themselves seemed correct; it was a beautiful, luxurious cabin-like structure that seemed to have three floors. The garden was sprawling, with a cracked paving winding through well-kept plants and trees.

Heading towards the house, and taking in the wonderful fresh scents eminating from the garden, Milo saw Sylvester and his Cacturne up ahead. They were stacking logs from a cart into a neat pile.

“Hey Vester,” Milo said, smirking.

“What brings you here?” Sylvester asked.

“We were hoping to see your mother,” Jake explained. “And try some of her herbal remedies.”

“Right,” Sylvester said. “I’ve been collecting wood.”

“Is there a lot of…good wood today?” Milo asked. He looked across at Jake, and knew that the boy was thinking ‘sexy times’ from the other day. He smiled.

“No, not today,” Sylvester said. “And a passing Butterfree pooped on my head.”

“That’s…terrible,” Milo said. Jake’s eyes widened and he looked close to laughing.

“I know,” Sylvester said.

“Well…we’re going to…go,” Milo muttered.

“Right,” Sylvester replied.

“Bye,” Jake said, as they turned and carried on up the winding path. As they got to the front door, Milo admired the knocker, which was carved into the shape of a Slowpoke. Lifting the Slowpoke’s tail, Jake rapped the door three times.

“Nice house, isn’t it,” Milo muttered.

“Yea, it’s beautiful,” Jake replied. They could hear thundering footsteps and assumed someone was approaching. The door was wrenched open and a stout woman appeared at the door, looking at the boys irritably.

“Yes?” she snapped. Milo noticed that her grey hair, tied tightly in a bun, barely reached his chin.

“Are you Sylvie Stallong?” Jake asked.

“I am,” she said. “Are you trying to sell something?”

“No, no, Cecilia Higgins sent us over,” Jake said. “She said you knew loads about aromatherapy and herbal treatments.”

“I do,” she said. “Who are you two, anyway?”

“I’m Jake Jackson, and this is Milo Mitchelson.”

“Milo, you say?” Sylvie muttered. “The Golden Boy. That’s what they’re calling you around here.”

Milo didn’t know what to say, so he simply stared, trying to apprehend the small woman.

“So what’s the problem?” Sylvie said. “Hormones going crazy? Teenage years do that to you. My Sylvester used to like to stick his willy inside trees. A blast of sweet scent used to calm him down.”

“What a lovely story,” Milo said. “Harrowing as your son is, I’m actually wanting to get help for my Medicham. I think she’s suffering from stress, her telekinesis is out of control.”

“How long have you had her?” Sylvie asked.

“About eighteen months,” Milo said.

“And she’s well trained?”

“Yes,” Milo replied. “Extremely. She used to belong to my brother.”

“And when did this all begin?”

“This morning, or last night, I suppose,” Milo said. Sylvie frowned.

“I doubt that,” she said. “Pokemon don’t just spew molten crazy. There has to be a build up. I imagine Medicham has been feeling stressed or anxious for some time and it is beginning to manifest as a loss of control.”

She turned around and began walking into the house, beckoning them to follow. Milo and Jake exchanged a glance before walking inside the Stallong household.

*

An hour later, the three were in Sylvie’s basement. It was a large, cavernous room and it was very cold. Milo saw a thick steel door set into the wall and was willing to bet that it led into the Azalea Chambers. They sat in a circle, with Milo releasing Medicham and Sylvie summoning a large Parasect. The creature had thick claws and white eyes, with a looming mushroom on its back. Upon seeing it, Jake sent his little Paras out to join in.

Parasect was blasting fumes of spores into the atmosphere as Sylvie mixed up various potions and elixirs. Medicham seemed nervous, but soon began inhaling the soothing peppermint-green scent and sighed with contention. Sylvie wanted to reduce Medicham’s stress by using Parasect’s aromatic spores.

“Parasect are highly dangerous Pokemon,” Sylie said. “They can produce deadly spores that corrode metal, ones that send a burning sensation through the body and can even cause muscle spasms.”

Jake stroked his Paras happily, looking at the oafish Parasect with apprehension.

“You’re…not using any of those, are you?” Milo asked.

“No! Stupid Boy! We are using calming invigorating spores,” she explained.

“Calming…and invigorating?” Milo asked.

“Milo, shut up,” Jake said. “Spores are complex.”

“Listen to your girly friend,” Sylvie said. Jake frowned at her. “Let your mind wander to a calmer place. Feel the soothing spores on your lungs.”

Milo wasn’t buying this new-age nonsense, but opened an eye to look across and see how Medicham was doing. Her eyes were open and, although she sat cross legged with her arms by her sides, she did not look relaxed. Jake was making a sonorous murmur; a meditative chant, while Paras was sniffing the air greedily.

“You doing okay?” Milo asked. Medicham looked at him sadly. Her arms were throbbing with energy, her hands glowing. Milo furrowed his brow and moved his hand towards Medicham, offering support. His fingers only traced Medicham’s wrist before she jerked away, but in that brief moment Milo felt a hot flash of pain and yelped.

Sylvie opened her eyes and looked up.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yea, fine,” Milo said casually. “Sorry.”

“Medicham?” Jake asked, eyes open. Medicham was breathing in short gasps; her hands were bright white and objects began to float around the room. Sylvie looked briefly at Parasect and nodded at the Pokemon. He sucked in air and proceeded to blast a thick seed at Medicham. However, Medicham brought up a glistening protective dome that deflected the seed.

“We need to subdue her,” Sylvie said to Jake. “Parasect, go for another sleep seed.”

“Sleep seed?” Jake said, sounding impressed. “Can you tea-

Before he could finish, however, Medicham forced the protective dome outwards, spreading in a concussive blast. Milo, Jake and Sylvie were thrown to the ground and Medicham leapt over them. She ran towards the steel door and swiped her hand; it flew open instantly.

“NO!” Sylvie shouted. Medicham disappeared down a set of stone steps into the darkness. Milo got up and raced over to the door, giving chase.

“Milo!” Jake cried.

“You are not permitted to go into The Chambers!” Sylvie snapped, getting to her feet. Milo ignored her and ran down the stone steps.

*

“Well, it’s nice to know I found a use for you,” Milo mumbled. Magnemite bobbed ahead, shrouding his body in bright sparks and illuminating the path ahead. They walked down a narrow path, with rocky walls either side of them. There was no sign of Medicham at all.

It was freezing down here, in the vast chambers of Azalea Town. Milo’s polo shirt and shorts combo left his ankles freezing as he walked further beneath Azalea. There was a light dripping of water on the walls, and a group of Zubat snoozed in the rafters.

“MEDICHAM!” Milo cried. Luckily the path they were on was straight, with no diverges. Medicham could have only gone ahead, and didn’t seem focused enough to be able to teleport. Milo looked at his left hand, which was reddened slightly from when he touched Medicham’s hand in the basement. He felt a hot flash of pain. What had happened?

Eventually, the path began to get steeper. Climbing up the steep incline (for there was no steps here), Milo wondered where he was going to end up. It would be highly embarrassing if he popped up in someone’s house. However, the more he walked, the more light flooded in from above, until the path reached a dead end and Milo looked directly above him; there was a circular patch of sunlight. He was standing at the base of a large shaft, and saw a leafy canopy above.

“Looks like we’re in a well,” Milo said, noticing grooves hacked out of the stone. He jammed his foot into a groove and hoisted himself up, reaching for the next with his hand and moving closer to the top. This reminded him fondly of his old training days with Chuck, when they would climb rock faces at Cianwood cliffs. Maybe that was why Chuck got so irritated when Milo used Medicham to teleport.

Birds flew overhead and sang merrily the more Milo climbed. Otherwise, it seemed very quiet, and Milo suddenly began to think he might not be in Azalea Town at all. Indeed, when his hands gripped the top of the well, he hoisted himself out and looked around to find himself in a leafy clearing of Ilex Forest. Magnemite buzzed around his head excitedly, because right in front of them, sobbing into her hands, was Medicham.

“Medicham,” Milo gasped, walking over. She held a hand out and Milo was thrown back a few feet; he stumbled into the well and made sure not to fall back down. Sitting on the edge, he surveyed Medicham from a distance.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked. “Please, won’t you let me help?”

She sniffed, wiping her tears away and looking at her trainer. She began a shrug; it seemed she wasn’t too sure what was going on, either.

“Sylvie said you might have been feeling shit for a while,” Milo said. “And I guess maybe I’ve been distracted helping Croconaw since he evolved…are you upset about anything?”

Medicham gave a nod.

“Well look,” Milo said, getting off the well and walking over to her. She was sat down against a big tree, and made no efforts to move away as Milo got closer to her. “I’m here now, and none of the other guys are around. We can sort this out.”

Milo’s hand hovered over Medicham’s grey fingers. He gently rested it on top of hers and stared into her eyes, smiling warmly. She looked back with utter confusion, but her expression softened as Milo held her hand. His heart felt warm; he hoped she was feeling calmer, and able to trust him.

Suddenly, Milo felt a shuddering chill shoot up his spine. Eyes wide, he felt himself experiencing iced-cold (or searing hot?) floods of pain down his fingers, and began to realise what happened in Sylvie’s house. By connecting with Medicham, Milo could feel her pain; her stress and fear. Clenching her fingers tight, determined to see the pain through, Milo looked at her with purpose. He felt the painful surges stinging his insides, but knew he must persevere.

“It’s okay,” Milo said to Medicham, teeth clenched. “It’s okay!”

The more he focused, the more things began to feel different. Milo saw a light blinking and shut his eyes momentarily. Next thing he knew, he was hurtled to his knees in a cold, darkened room. Heartless laughs bounced off the blank walls as Milo around. Subconsciously, he was gripping Medicham’s hand, but he seemed somewhere completely different. A looming shadowy figure walked towards him; with bronze plates over his spindly golden body, Milo had no trouble recognising the figure as Kazaar, his brother’s Alakazam.

“No!” Milo shouted, turning to see where Medicham was. She was nowhere, and yet still he felt her grip on his fingers. Kazaar swiped a bony finger and Milo let out a long scream. It was if a white-hot knife was being pressed into his head; his shrieks filled the air and yet Kazaar still tormented him. What was happening? Why was Kazaar here?

“Medicham!” Milo shouted, as Kazaar geared up for another attack. “MEDICHAM WHERE ARE YOU!”

He span on the spot to try and find her, but she definitely was not here. Kazaar stood stock still, his spoons bending slightly. Milo found himself thrown to the ground and pressed into the stone cold floor. With every ounce of concentration, he forced himself onto his knees and stared ahead at Kazaar.

“Do not attack me,” he said coldly. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

But something caught Milo’s attention. In the large, darkened room, there was a person standing in the corner. Almost completely shrouded, impossible to distinguish. Milo frowned at the figure as Medicham’s grip on his fingers got tighter…

And in the next second, Milo saw a bright light engulf the room. Blinking rapidly, Milo struggled to understand what was happening, until he took in a clean lungful of fresh air and looked around. He was back in the forest clearing, holding Medicham’s hand and looking round quizzically.

“What just happened?” Milo said, pulling his hand from Medicham. “I was in a room with Kazaar.”

Medicham nodded, pointing to herself.

“Have you been having nightmares about him?” Milo asked, wondering if there was more side effects from the confrontation at Mitchelson Enterprises. “I know he hurt you…but Kazaar is on our side, Medi. He’s a good Pokemon.”

Medicham turned away, nodding.

“Look,” Milo said, sitting down next to her. “I know what happened when William captured you. I know you lost your daughter. And I understand that you were full of anger and hatred when you joined William’s team, something that Kazaar sought to curb. Through intense training, you learned to master telekinesis in a ways I had never seen before - you really are one of the most powerful Pokemon I’ve met.”

She turned to look at her trainer, still sombre, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Fighting Kazaar must have been difficult, seeing that he was the one that you trained under. But you mustn’t be afraid of him,” Milo said. “We need to put Goldenrod City behind us, in every sense. You need to let go.”

From the overgrowth, tucked neatly away, Oscar watched the pair with trepidation.

*

After Milo disappeared, Jake left the Stallong house and was sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the peaceful town. It was beyond his interests to go and track down Milo; Sylvie was tight-lipped about where the stairway led, but Jake was smart enough to assume it connected to The Chambers.

“Hey, Jake!”

Maisy jogged up the hill, a basket in her hand. Jake waved at her, motioning for her to sit down next to him.

“How’s it going?” she asked, setting the hamper down.

“Pretty good I guess,” Jake said. “What’s in the basket?”

“I brought some lunch from the deli in town,” she said, handing Jake a submarine roll. “Thought you might be hungry?”

“I can always eat,” Jake said, high-fiving Maisy. “Thanks babe!”

“Pleasure,” she said, unwrapping her own sandwich. She also brought out a tub of potato salad, some coleslaw and potato chips. “Whatcha up to today?”

“Mmmrph, phrmnum -”

“Swallow, Jakey,” Maisy said.

“Sorry,” Jake mumbled, finishing his bite. “Okay, so we went to Sylvie Stallong’s house, because Medicham’s psychic powers were all crazy. But Medicham kinda destroyed the place and ran into the Chambers.”

“Shit!” Maisy said, spraying Jake with crumbs. “Where’s Milo?”

“He went after her,” Jake explained.

“Well, Sylvie’s house leads to Ilex Forest,” Maisy recalled. “Like, their family has always been the forest protectors, or something, so their tunnel has always connected to the woods for like, easy access.”

“Do you have a tunnel?” Jake asked. Maisy eyed him for a minute.

“Yes.”

“And where does it go?” Jake asked.

“It leads into the heart of the chambers,” Maisy said. “Like most houses. We have an offshoot that leads into the outskirts of Ilex Forest, since our family make Pokeballs from the local resources and stuff. But the main tunnel leads to the lake.”

“Is that because your family is more prestigious than the Stallongs?” the boy said.

“Well, our ancestors thought so,” Maisy mumbled. She sounded ashamed. “But nowadays, that sort of attitude doesn’t exist. The Stallong’s are absolutely loaded. More so than any of us.”

She helped herself to some coleslaw and set her sandwich down.

“Has Oscar spoken to Milo yet?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “Not last time I saw him.”

“That’s strange,” Maisy murmured. “Oh, and Jake…I also meant to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Jake asked.

“Milo said something about you and Oscar sleeping together the other night.”

“Yea?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you about it,” Maisy said. “Oscar…isn’t gay. He never has been. He’s been in love with me for about seven years…”

“What?” Jake said. “Oscar has been in the closet. That means he hides who he is to everyone!”

“Jake, he’s no stranger to me,” Maisy said soothingly. She held his hand. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I’m just as confused about this as you are!”

“I’m not confused!” Jake cried. “And neither is Oscar!”

He got up from where he sat.

“I’m sick of questioning myself,” he said. “I’m going to confront Oscar about this.”

“Jake…” Maisy said, watching him storm off down the hill. “Jake!”

*

“…and Will would always start taking his clothes off in his bedroom, and run all the way down to the pool, pulling his sock off or getting his shirt over his head,” Milo said. Medicham gave a wry smile. “The house was a treasure-trail of dirty clothes. That’s when you started teleporting clothes to the washroom.”

Medicham got up, dusting herself down and wandering around the quiet woods. Milo closed his eyes briefly and felt the sun press heat against his eyelids; he was so relaxed, so calm. A Pidgey was grooming itself nearby, making a soft rustling noise. Milo opened his eyes again to see the bird flap up and bolt into the skies with alarm; turning around, he understood why.

“Afternoon,” Oscar said warmly, standing a few feet away.

“Oscar!” Milo said, getting up. “Fucking hell, I didn’t even hear you walk over.”

“Well, I study a lot of the wildlife in Ilex Forest,” Oscar said. “So I learned to be discrete.”

Milo was finding Oscar’s curious mystery somewhat irritating, and decided to throw the boy a curveball as he walked over to Medicham and looked at the boy.

“See, I would have assumed you came through the Chambers,” Milo said, smiling. “But Medi and I have just been from there.”

Oscar stared at Milo, taking in the words. He looked surprised only for a moment, before concealing it and smiling back.

“Maisy shouldn’t be telling you about Azalea Town’s secrets,” he said cryptically. “You should be learning them for yourself. Soon.”

“What do you mean?” Milo asked.

“I came to find you today for a reason,” Oscar said. “And this might seem rash and sudden, but I want you to think carefully about what I am about to offer you.”

“Okay,” Milo said.

“You have been with us for….a few days,” Oscar said. “Almost a week. Now that isn’t long by any means, but in that short space of time, I feel as if you have joined the community in a way no other person has.”

Milo felt that he knew what was coming; Maisy’s warning was coming true.

“You share our core values, and you seem to be tuned in to what we wish to achieve in the future. A world where Azalea’s economy is thriving, and our people can have a more comfortable way of living,” he continued.

“I agree,” Milo said.

“I know,” Oscar said, beaming. “Which is why I wanted to extend an invitation to you, Milo. Tonight, we wish to honour you, and welcome you into The Apricorn Guild.”

“Tonight?” Milo asked.

“It might seem quick, or uncalculated,” Oscar said. “And you don’t have to stay in Azalea forever. But we wish to welcome you into our circle through a formal ceremony deep within the core of our town. It is held in the Azalea Chambers - which you seem rather familiar with - we will do it at 10pm tonight.”

“Right,” Milo said suddenly. He had been expecting this spiel from Oscar, but it still seemed a bit daunting. He had sworn last night, when speaking to Jake, that he would take this thing head-on; he wasn’t afraid of Oscar. But something seemed odd.

“I’ve spoken to Cecilia about all of this,” Oscar explained. “She will lead you down to the Chambers tonight. Wear something smart.”

“I will,” Milo said, before Oscar turned to leave. “Wait! What about Jake?”

“What about him?” Oscar said, shrugging and walking back through the forest. Milo was surprised to hear no mention of the boy in tonight’s plans, and wondered why Oscar had slept with Jake the other night. Maybe Oscar wasn’t gay after all…

“This is weird,” Milo said to Medicham. She was not listening, however, gasping as she held her hand over the surface of the well. “What? What are you doing?”

Eyes darting to her trainer, she beckoned him over with her free hand. Milo walked across the clearing to her, where she gripped his wrist with her hand. In a sudden, hot flash, Milo was met with crisp images, wavering voices and strong smells.

In his mind’s eye, he was in the exact same clearing, by the exact same well. Oscar strode through the forest, his face muddied and looking flustered. He had a phone pressed to his ear, and the scene had a strong smell of fresh grass and blood.

“Yea, it’s Oscar,” he said, setting his bag down by the well. “It went okay. I’m on pretty good terms with them. No, he has a friend with him. It shouldn’t be a problem. I sent them to the route gate - make sure Maisy is there to meet them.”

Oscar dropped his bag down the well and sat on the edge of it.

“Excellent,” he continued. “It’s getting to this stage, it really is. We’re so close. I know, I know, we don’t have much time, but let us use the resources we have. I have to go. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

And with that, Oscar began clambering down the well, presumably into the Chambers. With one more bright, hot flash, Milo felt himself stagger back in the woods, looking around. There was no scent of blood. No sign of Oscar. Medicham was surveying the area with apprehension.

“That was the day we were in the forest,” Milo said. “Oscar was a bit muddied by the hippie encounter. How did you do that?”

Medicham shrugged, staring at her hands with intrigue.

“It’s like you touched the well, and you saw surface memories,” Milo mumbled. “Of things that came into contact with it?”

It seemed Medicham had no interest in the origins or mechanisms behind her powers; she was quite content just using them. But Milo was fascinated by Medicham being able to ‘see’ memories, and share them through physical contact. It was so vivid, so intense, as if Milo was there himself. It dawned on Milo that Medicham’s recent stress had probably caused her to lose control of this subconscious ability lately, and this could have been why she had nightmares about Kazaar. Had she touched something that Kazaar had once touched, perhaps?

Her Pokeball

Simply being in her Pokeball (and thus touching it from within) was probably causing her new gift to stir up memories of the powerful Alakazam. Every instance Medicham had been recalled, she was suffering terrible mental anguish. Milo felt horrible for letting this happen, but as his Pokemon began summoning a handful of leaves with a psychic attack, he knew he could help her recover from her anxiety.

“Listen,” he said. “Let’s head back to Azalea. Everyone’s probably worried about us.”

Medicham nodded, and held her hand out, ready to teleport Milo. Milo shook his head.

“Let’s walk,” he said, smiling. Medicham looked surprised, but wandered alongside her trainer through the woods, back towards civilisation.

*

“OSCAR!” Jake screamed, banging the front door of the boy’s house. “HEY!”

“This is so lame!” Jake moaned. He looked at the keyhole and smiled to himself, getting a Pokeball off his belt and releasing his Ditto. “Ditto. Poke a bit of your squishy body into the keyhole and transform into the key.”

Ditto nodded, sitting in Jake’s hand as he held the Pokemon up to the door. Ditto formed a thin finger and pressed it into the hole, before glowing white briefly and merging into an intricate iron key. Jake turned it with eagerness and nudged the door open, allowing Ditto to morph back on completion.

“You’re such a useful Pokemon,” Jake said. They walked into the spacious hallway of Oscar’s house, but everything was very quiet. Jake called out for Oscar again, but he wasn’t to be found. If he had heard someone come through the door, Oscar would have surely raced down to confront the intruder. It seemed he was not home.

“Damnit,” Jake muttered. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Jake wanted to sit down and wait for Oscar to return; that would be a good way to confront him. But when he spied a thick wooden door at the back of the living room, Jake had another idea. Walking over, he noticed how ornate and different it looked to the other doors in the house, and wondered if, like many of the houses in Azalea, it led into the Chambers. Maybe Oscar was doing something secret down there?

Surprisingly, it had no lock; Jake wrenched the door open and stared at the steep staircase leading into the basement. He flicked a light on, and walked down the steps. Unlike Sylvie’s basement, this one was very small, very messy. It seemed a place where Oscar threw most of his problems down. Old magazines, broken Pokeballs, and even a huge cardboard box full of Hive Badges lay amongst the dusty sheets and storage boxes.

“Poor Oscar,” Jake said, picking up a Hive Badge. “This Gym must have meant so much to him.”

He looked around and, instead of seeing a door set into the wall, there was a thick metal hatch in the ground. Jake grabbed the ring that acted as a handle and pulled, but was not strong enough to lift the thick hatch up. Ditto smiled and leapt down, causing Jake to rifle through his Pokemon Card collection and find a suitable subject.

“Tyrogue,” Jake said, showing him the pink Pokemon.

On cue, Ditto glowed white and began to change form; arms and legs, gangly yet somewhat muscular, formed from a thin body that was also spouting a neck and round head. The human-shape Pokemon smiled as he flexed his fingers, eagerly grabbing the ring and wrenching the hatch door open with an almighty creak. It was very dark; rungs set into the shaft seemed to form a way to climb into the Chambers, but it looked like a very long way down. Rummaging around in his card collection, Jake asked his Ditto to take the form of a different creature, and as Ditto glowed white once more, Jake found a thick piece of wood in the basement.

“Set fire to this,” he said to his Pokemon, who had taken the form of a Cyndaquil. Ditto clenched his fists and the fire on his back burst into life; the wood caught alight and Jake walked to the deep, dark shaft. Dropping the flaming wood, Jake watched it fall and gauged that it was quite a long way down.

“I kinda knew that already,” Jake said, upon hearing the wood thud against the cave floor. As Ditto merged back into his original form, he climbed onto Jake’s shoulder, and the boy gingerly approached the first rung leading down the hatch.

He gently lowered himself down, finding that the rungs were dry and easy to grip. After moving his feet down and carefully doing the same with his hands, Jake found the light of the basement getting dimmer and dimmer as his face was shrouded in darkness. This was the right thing to do, he convinced himself, as every fibre of his body yearned to leave and go back to Cecilia’s house for a delicious slice of cake.

“Maybe you can help me out,” Jake said to the Ditto perched on his shoulder. Steadying himself, Jake let go of the rung with one hand and fiddled in his back pocket for the Pokemon Cards he stashed away earlier. He didn’t have many, only a couple of packets worth, but there must be something Ditto could transform into. Something with vines, maybe?

As Jake fumbled with a card in his pocket, it was almost as if everything slipped into slow motion. His other hand left the rung, and soon he tumbled backwards. Arcing back, he plummeted down the shaft, Ditto clutching his shoulder, the two descending into inky darkness.

[Chris 2.1]

*



“Roast lamb,” Milo said warmly, as Cecilia walked into the room. “That smells amazing, Cecilia.”

“You’re too kind!” she cooed, sitting down. Milo’s eyes traced the table; there were only two places set out.

“Where’s Jake?” Milo asked.

“Oh, Maisy rang,” Cecilia said. “She said they had spent the afternoon in Ilex Forest, searching for wild Roselia. Apparently Jake is smitten with the creatures after my performance in the contest!”

“Is he not joining us?” Milo asked.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Cecilia said. “Unfortunately Jake isn’t eligible for entry into The Apricorn Guild; only one person can be welcomed in at any one time. It sounded like he was quite upset about it, really, poor thing. Maisy and him are watching a few films and having a bottle of wine tonight.”

“Oh,” Milo said. After spending the day bonding with Medicham, Milo felt like he needed to hang out with Jake, too. “Fair enough.”

“I’ll be accompanying you to The Chambers tonight,” Cecilia said, smiling. “Oooh it’s very exciting. We haven’t instated anybody for years.”

“Who was the last person?” Milo asked.

Cecilia reached for the bottle of wine, having seemingly not heard him. Milo bit his lip, wondering if he should raise his voice; had he spoken too softly? It was times like these that Milo actually wished Jake was around. A second opinion on this would have been useful.

After their dinner, Milo went upstairs to get changed, remembering Oscar’s advice to dress smart. Medicham sat in the middle of the bedroom, practicing her yoga. Her eyes were shut, and her head rolled back and forth as she emitted a very soft, blue glow, making Milo smile. He hadn’t seen her do yoga for months.

Croconaw was sitting in a warm bath, splashing around and keeping his skin moist. Magnemite was buzzing and wandering around the room, excited at all of the electrical appliances. Scyther sat on the bed, his eyes locked on Milo. Often, he would just watch Milo with intent, and moved when Milo moved. It seemed he was concerned with Milo’s well-being, like a bodyguard, or a loyal dog.

Milo sifted through his clothes and found a dark red shirt; he wore it when he went to The Smoky Rooms, beneath the Burnt Tower, and was reminded of the Eevee sisters, their cocaine habits, and the night he and Jake fled the city to find Morty. What was Morty doing now? Probably shooting up, taking drugs, drinking himself into a grave, Milo thought. He was bitter about Morty. He hated him.

He changed, recalled his team into their Pokeballs and met Cecilia downstairs. She was wearing a soft white ruffled dress, giving Milo a quick hug before leading him towards the back of the house. She fumbled in her bag and took out a key; it was long and ornate, with words carved into it. Before Milo could tilt his head and read it, she jammed it into the lock and turned it, opening the door.

A light was flicked on, illuminating the steps down into Cecilia’s basement. Milo followed her as she made her way down the steps - steep like the one’s in the Stallong household.

If he still had a phone, Milo would have given Jake a quick ring, and catch up on his day; he felt quite alone without the stylist’s company. And if what Cecilia said was true, Jake must be feeling somewhat burned out at not being included in the Apricorn Guild.

Was Jake happy, travelling with Milo? He didn’t really do a lot, having seemingly abandoned his stylist roots for a more supportive role. Granted, Milo’s four Pokemon didn’t lend themselves to being styled (unlike the elegant, plush Ruby), but maybe Jake was feeling a little bit redundant. Milo decided that, in the morning, they would do something together.

“So what actually happens?” Milo asked Cecilia, as they got to the basement. Like Sylvie’s house, a metal door was set into a dark rock wall.

“We will welcome you into The Chambers,” Cecila said. “And the Master of Ceremony’s will give a small talk. Then the MC will cleanse you in water from Azalea’s lake, we will all welcome you into our circle. It’s very rustic, but I think it’s important to embrace where we have come from.”

“Yea,” Milo said, smiling as Cecilia wrenched the door open with surprising strength. Leading down the path into the Azalea Chambers were torch-brackets, giving off bouts of flame. Milo wondered who had lit them; it had obviously been done recently.

“Come,” Cecilia said, leading the way. Milo nodded, walking after her.

“Obviously we usually welcome people into the guild if they are planning on staying here,” Cecilia said. “And everyone is aware that you and Jake will leave. But many of us felt so strongly about acknowledging the time when you were with us. Oscar, Eli, even Kurt took a shining to you.”

“Really?” Milo asked. Cecilia nodded. This tunnel was not steep; a casual decline that wound around in loose spirals. The passageway was narrow and the roof was high; the only sound was the fire crackling in the torch brackets as they passed.

“You can always call this place home,” Cecilia said warmly, although she was leading the way, and did not look at Milo.

“Thanks,” Milo replied. “Is it far?”

“No, no, just five minutes until we reach the main chamber,” Cecilia told him.

The more they walked, the wider and more illuminated the tunnel became. Milo was in awe of the intricate caverns beneath the quiet town, and recalled what Kurt told him in The Mucky Pup about their ancestors being afraid of the wild Pokemon from Ilex Forest and Union Cave. What a perfect escape.

Then, Milo let out a gasp as they walked into a large, open space. Ahead of them, spreading to the inky dark corners of the cavernous room was a perfectly still lake. Piercing rock formations burst from the watery depths and small Pokemon clung to the moist fragments eagerly.

On the rocky bank, a cluster of people stood, watching them, all Azalea residents. As Cecilia and Milo got closer, he could see that Eli and Kurt among the residents. There was also a spindly looking man who resembled Sylvester Stallong so much Milo was convinced that this was his father, and therefore Sylvie‘s husband. Oscar also stood, wearing a white linen shirt and pants. His hair was kept out of his face by a white headband. His garish bruises inflicted by Eli looked even more vivid against his all-white ensemble.

“Welcome to the Azalea Chambers, Milo,” Eli said warmly, holding out his large hand. Milo gripped it and shook, smiling. “Still got that strong grip. Good lad.”

“So,” Milo mumbled.

“If you are comfortable, we can begin the ceremony now,” Eli said.

“Of course,” Milo said.

“Right,” Oscar said, walking forward. “If everyone would gather by the bank of the lake please.”

Eli looked cross as the group, consisting of around fifteen people, assembled on the bank. Milo saw Cecilia grip Eli’s arm and give him a knowing look; meanwhile, Oscar led Milo to stand next to him, in the middle of the loose circle formed.

“This evening, The Apricorn Guild gather in the heart of our town’s chambers. Here, we fully embrace where our ancestors have come from, and in doing so, we welcome a new member into our coveted circle.”

Oscar’s words were stirring ill-feeling in some members of the guild. Eli looked cross that Oscar was leading the ceremony, while Kurt watched on with disappointment etched on his face.

“Milo is not going to stay with us here forever,” Oscar said. “But it is clear that he shares our values, our views, and understands the plans for Azalea to rise from these economic difficulties. We will become stronger as a community, and as an economy, and we will win back what has been taken from us.”

There was something in his eye. A powerful glint.

“Milo, tonight we are here to welcome you into our group. And we want you to know, that wherever you go, you are always welcome back here.”

“Thank you Oscar,” Milo said.

“This is your home now,” Oscar continued. “And it is my wish that when we rebuild our society, you will be a key figure in that.”

“I would love that,” Milo said.

*

Jake looked around. It was so dark, but his eyes had adjusted to the light somewhat. He got to his feet, feeling a sharp pain down his back. He wondered why he was not in more pain from the pain, but as he got to his feet, he saw that he had landed on Ditto, who had stretched his squishy body into a marshmallow-like consistency.

“You’re amazing,” Jake said, as the creature leapt up. He walked to the base of the shaft and looked up. His hand gripped the lowest rung, but with a quick shake it snapped, seemingly rusted.

“I don’t think it’s safe climbing up,” he muttered. “Let’s head down the tunnel, see where we end up.”

Ditto nodded and leapt onto Jake’s shoulder. The boy felt bruises down his side; his fall really had hurt. They walked on through the dark tunnel, deeper into the catacombs of Azalea.

*

Oscar was still talking to the crowd that gathered around the lake. Milo was trying to pay attention but was finding himself drifting in and out of the boy’s words. Down here, the temperature had dropped severely; Milo was very cold in his shirt, and felt bumps all along his skin. Cecilia caught his eye on one or two occasions; she looked apprehensive, worried.

“…and as such, Milo will not be staying with us in Azalea forever,” Oscar said, turning and smiling at Milo. “Although we do hope that he will consider staying for a little bit longer.”

Milo found his words deeply suggestive, as if his arm were being twisted. With so many eyes pressed on him, he merely smiled, took a thick, dry gulp and gave the briefest of nods to the crowd.

“If you can all join hands and bow your heads,” Oscar said. Milo looked as everyone around him linked together, and in one sweeping motion, took a bow. He watched as everyone rose back up, applauding conservatively. Cecilia looked proud, while Oscar merely nodded.

“You are welcomed into The Apricorn Guild,” Oscar said. “Everybody, please welcome Milo.”

“Hear, hear!” Cecilia cooed.

“Why don’t we celebrate?” Eli said, looking more boyish than ever. “The Mucky Pup is closed for the night…but I suppose we could have a little party.”

“That sounds wonderful!” Ceclia said. Eli took a torch from a bracket on the wall and led the group along the lakeside towards an opening in the wall. It was steep and seemed to wind up through the caverns; it must lead to the basement of The Mucky Pup.

“Wait,” Kurt said suddenly. “Milo hasn’t received -”

“The Apricorn Ball,” Oscar said. “It’s in the next chamber. Milo, would you come with me?”

“Sure,” Milo said, as Kurt walked on to catch up with the group. Oscar walked in the other direction, around the perimeter of the lake. “What’s going on?”

“Members of the Apricorn Guild are given a special Pokeball,” Oscar said. “As a symbol of strength and fortitude.”

“Awesome,” Milo said.

“They’re not those ones that Kurt sold to the Silph company,” Oscar said bitterly. “Fast Balls, Heavy Balls, Friend Balls. I’m appalled at him.”

“He’s set for life,” Milo reminded Oscar. “He shouldn’t have to be concerned about making money at his age.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Oscar mused. As they reached the opposite bank of the lake, Milo saw a few rough stone steps winding deeper underground. Oscar explained that this was where the special Pokeballs were kept, for safety reasons. They walked down the steps, with Oscar seeming quieter and much less chatty than usual. On one or two occasions, Milo prepared to speak, but sensed that he might not get a response.

The chamber was small, with a stone pedestal in the middle. Oscar stood by the stairs as Milo walked forward, looking around. As he was about to remark on the small, cold chamber, Milo saw something flash in the corner of his eye.

“Where’s the -

There was a searing sensation in the back of his head, and Milo felt himself fall to his knees. Stars and sharp bursts of light sprang before his eyes as Milo clutched his head. Oscar was behind him, wielding something blunt.

“What the fuck!?” Milo screamed.

“That was just to keep you in one place,” Oscar said airily, holding a baton. “Sorry about that. There isn’t an Apricorn ball for you, Milo, not here anyway. But I needed to get you on your own to speak to you about something very, very important.”

Tears welled up in Milo’s eyes at the intense pain in his head. On his knees, he stared at Oscar, who looked at him with a mix of disgust and overwhelming intrigue.

“What do you mean?”

“You are a member of the Apricorn Guild now,” Oscar said. “And I need you to do a job for me. It’s a job that I think you will be well equipped for. Perfect, even. I know that you understand how sour the economy has turned, and you’ve witnessed, first hand, the effect that has had on our community. We are all suffering. And do you know why this is - do you know what the catalyst was for the current situation we are in?”

He paused.

“The Reclassification. The money-stuffed businessmen that run the Johto League make a decision and just like that…everything crumbles. They closed my gym, demoted me, and people stopped visiting Azalea town because they had no reason to pass through. We entered our darkest hour. And if we want to rise from these dark times, we need to tackle the problem head on.”

“And what does that mean, exactly?” Milo asked.

“You are Milo Mitchelson. Your father is C.E.O of Mitchelson Enterprises, and he has been a crucial component of the Reclassification,” Oscar said. “I want you to come to Goldenrod City with me and sort this whole thing out.”

“I’m not…on speaking terms with my father,” Milo said.

“It isn’t a job that requires effective communication,” Oscar said, showing a dark smile as he spoke to Milo. It seemed he had wanted to talk about this for days; his words were soaked in passion. “We are going to infiltrate Mitchelson Enterprises. Take it down from the inside.”

“What!?” Milo gasped. “Are you serious?”

But Milo didn’t need Oscar to answer his question; the look of satisfaction on the ex-gym leader’s face was too strong, too potent.

“I need you to help me, Milo,” Oscar said. “That’s why I set out to recruit you. I wanted you to see this community, and begin to grow attached to it. Maybe then you would empathise with our goals, join my side…”

“I do care about Azalea,” Milo said. “But…Oscar…I’m not going to turn on my father like that.”

“What about Chuck, your mentor?” Oscar said. “I know you don’t even speak to him anymore, but from what I heard, he’s in a very dark place.”

“I don’t have a pho-”

“And Morty. I expect given his history, he’ll hit the drugs again. Hard.”

“Morty is fine, we spoke about it,” Milo snapped, recalling the encounter in The National Park. Memories of his argument with the former gym leader made Milo feel angrier, hot under the collar. Oscar was beginning to annoy him.

“And do you really think Whitney should have kept her job? I mean, she’s emotionally unstable,” Oscar continued. Milo narrowed his eyes, waiting for Oscar to push the wrong button. Because when he did, Milo would be ready.

“Milo, won’t you join me?” Oscar said.

“No way,” Milo replied. “I disliked the idea of the League Reclassification. It had a profound effect on the people I care about. But you’re going about things the wrong way, Oscar.”

“You…”

Oscar was speechless. He seemed shocked by Milo’s decision, his mouth wide open as he struggled to say or do anything. Milo got back to his feet and dusted himself off; he wanted to catch up with the rest of the Apricorn Guild.

“I planned everything so intricately. You were supposed to say yes,” whispered Oscar. “I helped you out in Ilex Forest, to gain your trust. I encouraged Maisy to flirt with you, Cecilia to put you up somewhere. Even when I overheard you were low on money, and mightn’t be able to stay, I told Sylvester to ask for your help chopping wood. And you liked it, didn’t you? You said it gave you purpose, it felt rewarding. Don’t you realise what being in this community will do for you?”

“Oscar…” Milo stammered, finding himself more and more wary of the boy. “How long have you been watching me?”

But he never answered. Oscar was wringing his hands, staring at the ground in worry. Milo had almost dismissed the pain in the back of his head now.

“I’m sorry to tell you what you don’t want to hear,” Milo said. “But I won’t do this.”

“It’s fine.”

Oscar was staring into the distance, eyes glazed with an odd sheen.

“Yea?” Milo said, as he made his way to the stairs. Oscar gripped his arm tightly but still gazed ahead.

“I don’t need you to cooperate with me,” he said thoughtfully. “No, not at all. In fact, maybe keeping you under lock and key will help your father see the error of his ways.”

Milo glanced across at Oscar and gave a sharp tug; he freed himself from Oscar’s grasp and ran up the stairs to the tunnels, where he might be able to catch up with Cecilia and the others. Being with Oscar was unnvering him, especially since Oscar had wanted Milo to infiltrate Mitchelson Enterprises. Who knows what it might have involved. He didn’t see a reaction from Oscar, and as he ran, it didn’t even sound as if the boy was giving chase.

Milo got to the top of the stairs and looked out across the vast lake beneath Azalea Town. A blue slug-like Pokemon was feeding off slime on the walls; it was rubbery-looking, but Milo had never seen such a creature. He quickened his pace and walked around the perimeter of the lake, but stopped suddenly.

Standing before him was Scizor, staring at Milo and snapping his thick steel pincers. Milo felt for a Pokeball on his belt, but as he attempted to do so, Scizor held a claw out and a bright white light burned from within. Wielding his arm like a weapon, Scizor fired a thick, metallic beam of energy through the air. It sparkled and burst with light, and Milo was momentarily caught off guard. The beam struck him in the stomach and he was thrown across the cave, thudding into the rough, uneven floor and giving out a long roar of agony.

“Don’t try and escape, Milo,” Oscar said, appearing behind him. Milo’s chest was tingling; his shirt was torn and shredded where the flash cannon had struck. He ran a hand across his back and felt blood; the rough ground must have caused a few grazes.

Oscar helped Milo to his feet, which struck him as odd. Scizor kept watch, his breathing shallow and minimal.

“I’m not going to let you keep me here,” Milo said urgently, noticing Oscar apply a much stronger grip on a much higher part of his arm. “Oscar. Get the fuck off me.”

“I’m not going to let you go, Milo, because if I do, every chance we have at salvaging our town’s reputation will go with you.”

Milo gave a tug, but Oscar pulled him back; he steered him around and slammed him into the cave wall, sneering at him.

“As long as your father thinks you’re alive, then you’re valuable to us,” Oscar snarled. Milo was thinking, concentrating hard, and as he stared Oscar dead in the eyes, the boy gave a long groan and staggered back, releasing Milo from his grip. Medicham burst from her Pokeball, having sent a psywave out to meddle with Oscar’s head.

“Medicham, slam him into the wall,” Milo ordered. Flicking her hand left, Medicham effortlessly threw Oscar into the wall. Scizor held his claws up and ran forwards towards his trainer. “Get rid of this guy, too.”

Nodding, Medicham flicked her hand right; Scizor’s eyes widened as he staggered sideways and teetered dangerously close to the edge of the lake. He flapped his wings and flew through the air at Medicham, who watched him closely. As he got near, Medicham clicked her fingers and disappeared, re-appearing by Oscar’s side.

“Grab him!” Milo said. Medicham wrapped her thin arm around Oscar’s neck and, on Milo’s command, caused fire to burst along her palm and envelop her fist. Oscar eyed Medicham’s flaming fist with trepidation, as the embers danced and licked closer to his vivid purple hair. Scizor stalked forward, but Medicham summoned flames on her other hand; she held it out at Scizor, intimidating him.

“Stay back!” Milo snapped. Medicham flicked her hand and sent embers spewing at Scizor, worrying him. Oscar looked nervous from within Medicham’s flaming grasp.

“Extinguish, Scizor,” Oscar said. Scizor nodded and flapped back, hovering above the eerie lake. His wings glowed a sparkling silver and they began to beat at a much faster speed. The silvery powder emitted from Scizor’s wings was shimmering in the lake’s surface, and Milo couldn’t believe that he began to think about what a great contest appeal it would make.

From his wings, Scizor blasted a column of silvery wind into the water; it smashed into the surface and water sprayed out at every angle; Medicham was drenched, her flaming fists extinguished, and Oscar overpowered her briefly, running across the cave and joining his crimson warrior.

“Swift!”

Milo looked up in alarm as a sweeping army of spinning golden stars burst from Scizor and zoomed towards him. Staggering back into the cave wall, Milo ordered Medicham to use a psychic attack. She leapt through the air and held her hands out, causing the stars to slow down and stop in mid-air. They bobbed up and down on the air.

“Now, concentrate hard!” Milo snapped. “Powder!”

Medicham furrowed her brow, hands held out. The swift attack shook wildly and the stars began to burst into a fine, golden powder, which sprinkled across the surface of the lake. Oscar watched, eyes wide. Scizor leapt to his side and held his pincers across his chest.

“Milo, let’s stop this silly fighting,” he said. “Come with us.”

“No!” Milo shouted. “You want me to take my father’s company down!”

“He is a corrupt man!” Oscar argued. “You’d be helping so many people! BELIEVE ME!”

Scizor bolted through the air, but Medicham was there to intercept him. As he swung his left claw around, Medicham crouched and blocked the metal claw with a telekinetic blast. Thrown off balance, Scizor staggered back, but turned it into a spinning metal claw. Medicham was struck in the side, rolling along the ground.

“Fire punch!” Milo said. Medicham nodded and clicked her fingers with an aggressive snap; flames crackled along her palms, and she held both hands out towards Scizor. “Psychic!”

As the flames licked up her wrists, Medicham narrowed her eyes; a serpentine head rocketed out of the flames, twisting through the air at Scizor. It struck him in the chest, where he gave a wheezing grunt, firing off a swift attack in retaliation.

This time, the stars span up into the dark rafters of the cave, before zooming back down and peppering Medicham from above. She gave a scream as she was blasted into the ground.

“Now! Bug buzz!” Oscar cried. Gripping his claws and flapping his wings, Scizor sent out a long, rattling shockwave that zigzagged across the arena and struck Medicham in the torso. Wearily, she got to her feet, but Scizor streaked along the arena in a silver blur; the quick attack hurtled her into the water, where she splashed beneath the surface.

“MEDICHAM!” Milo shouted, running to the shore. Her ominous dark shape disappeared beneath the water. Milo got Croconaw’s Pokeball from his belt, hoping he could save Medicham, but Scizor’s thick metal pincer gripped around his neck, and he was slammed into the cave wall.

He tried to shout, to scream; he could barely breathe. Scizor’s eyes were cold and emotionless as Milo struggled against his hold. Oscar watched the lake’s surface disinterestedly.

“Scizor, knock him out,” he said. “We’ll take him to my house.”

Milo’s eyes darted to the lake. Something was going on. Water was building in layers, forming shapes, and as the seconds passed, Milo realised that Medicham must be ok. A column of water developed a head with pointed ears and an unmistakable rippling moustache. Spindly arms wound down from chest-plates, wielding watery spoons, and clawed feet merged with the lake’s surface. Through sheer telekinesis, Medicham was manipulating the water in the lake to create a gigantic watery Alakazam.

Oscar turned to see the giant, staring with eyes as deep and lifeless as the bottom of the lake. The statue burst in a rushing deluge of water; Oscar was knocked off his feet and carried off into a steep declining path in the Azalea Chambers. Scizor was bowled off his feet by a rush of water that howled as it filled the caverns. Milo saw Medicham levitate off the surface of the water and appear at his side.

“Medicham!” he cried, as Scizor smashed into a wall in the distance. “That was amazing!”

Medicham smiled, looking sore. The two ran up the steep path that Cecilia and the rest of The Apricorn Guild took, with Milo hoping he could catch up and explain what had happened to them. The idea of betraying his father was not something Milo liked to think about, but he was sure that Oscar would try and attack Mitchelson Enterprises without his help. He needed to alert the authorities.

The path that they ran along was winding and steep; sometimes it dipped and other times it rose high. Milo wondered what Jake would say when he told him that Oscar nearly tried to kill him. The ex-gym leader and Scizor would hopefully be subdued by the water, which seemed to have swept them off into a different area of Azalea Chambers.

“How do you feel?” Milo asked. Medicham looked exhausted, the water trick having sapped much of her strength. “That trick with the water was amazing. See what you can do when you don’t fear Alakazam?”

Medicham nodded, seemingly too weak to teleport. Milo gripped her hand and led her along the quiet path, finding the silence to be far too unnerving. Up ahead, the caves forked left and right, but Milo was not sure which way would lead them to the cellar of The Mucky Pup.

Medicham screamed; she was struck by a pulsating beam of metallic energy and hurtled through the air. Milo turned to see a furious Scizor standing behind them, with a sodden Oscar not far behind. Before Medicham even had a chance to get up, Scizor unleashed a vortex of spinning golden stars through the air. They homed in on her, giving Milo no option but to run in their path.

“ARGH!”

He let out a long scream as he stood in front of Medicham; the stars ripped into his body and slashed at his skin; Milo tucked his head in and felt his cheeks grazed by the stars. Medicham wearily got to her feet behind Milo, but he didn’t want her to fight.

“Croconaw!” Milo yelled, throwing the Pokeball. “Ice beam!”

Emerging from the glittery Pokeball, Croconaw blasted a beam of ice from his mouth. Scizor effortlessly dashed out of the way, and Croconaw’s attack merely glazed the cave wall.

“I didn’t appreciate your little water trick!” Oscar shouted, sounding hoarse. “Are you trying to drown me, Milo?”

“I’m trying to stop you killing me,” Milo shouted back, as Scizor leapt through the air, latching onto the cave wall and launching at his Pokemon. “Croconaw, summon a metal claw, spin! Protect!”

Nodding, Croconaw clenched his fists as metallic energy burst into long claw-like shapes. Spinning furiously, Croconaw slashed at Scizor’s metallic skin as he neared. Scizor leapt back and swung one of his claws, but again it clashed with Croconaw’s attack. Sharp metallic screeches rang through the caves. Croconaw blasted a jet of water that struck the foe in the chest; the sheer force forced him back a few feet, but it didn’t seem to harm him.

“Are you okay?” Milo asked Medicham, who lay on the ground, weak. He turned back to see something blue tear through the air; a Heracross smashed into Croconaw, throwing him into the air with his long, curved horn. Croconaw thudded into the ground.

“Heracross! Megahorn! Scizor, silver wind!” Oscar yelled.

“Two against one!?” Milo gasped.

“Medicham counts,” Oscar said coldly.

“Croconaw! Ice beam!” Milo yelled, as Heracross’s surging stab attack was boosted by the sparkling silver cloak engulfing him. Croconaw fired off the ice attack but missed; Heracross swerved along the cave wall and stabbed Croconaw hard, thrusting him through the air. Scizor powered up and the intense silvery force smashed into the alligator Pokemon, causing him to smash into the rocky ground by Milo’s feet.

“Come with me,” Oscar ordered. “Don’t make me kill one of these Pokemon, Milo.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Milo replied. “I’d inflict pain on every inch of your body.”

“Sounds kinky,” Oscar mused. “Scizor! Hit Croconaw with a double hit. Heracross, grab Milo.”

“Croconaw!” Milo yelled, struggling to think of what to do. Croconaw was slugged across the head by a double-strike from the crimson warrior. He staggered backwards, looking dazed. Milo felt Heracross slash his trouser leg and hold his sharp horn dangerously close to his throat. He seemed to be enjoying this.

As Croconaw and Medicham lay at his feet, Milo prepared to send Scyther out into the fray. At this rate, he would need to rely on Magnemite, and he definitely wasn’t up to the fight. Heracross jousted Milo in the side, causing him to walk closer to Oscar.

“If you come with me, I’ll make sure your Pokemon are taken care of,” Oscar said, as Milo wandered closer. Scizor held a claw ready - Milo assumed he was about to be clubbed across the head, too. Looking into the Pokemon’s heartless gaze, Milo let out a long sigh.

He looked at his hands, noticing for the first time that a faint, green glow was circling him; it followed the shape of his fingers and even the tatters of his clothes. Turning back briefly, Milo wondered if Medicham had pulled another trick, but she looked close to unconsciousness.

Suddenly, there was a loud cry of surprise; Milo’s eyes darted back to Oscar as he screamed out loud. Scizor had collapsed in front of him, his red skin sparkling softly. The Pokemon was twitching erratically; Heracross looked mortified.

“Scizor!” Oscar yelled. “WHAT DID YOU DO!”

“Nothing!” Milo cried. “He looks like he’s in pain!”

“His skin is corroding,” came a familiar voice. Milo turned to see a figure emerge from a passageway to his left. It was a narrow, dark passage; he hadn’t even noticed it being there. It was Jake, stalking into the dark tunnel with a cold look on his face.

“Jake!” Milo gasped.

“You did this?!” Oscar asked.

“Not me,” Jake said. Scuttling behind him was a stout looking Parasect, with a bulging red mushroom on its back. “My Parasect.”

“Your -”

“Sylvie taught us some tricks after you left,” Jake said. “Paras managed to evolve. Parasect can concoct deadly spores, ones which can trigger the nerves in the body, or even corrode metal. Scizor’s skin is corroding.”

“Then the green aura…” Milo whispered. “Safeguard?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Jake replied. Scizor was screaming in agony, but Heracross flapped his wings and prepared to fight. “String shot!”

Nodding, Parasect blasted thick, sticky strings through the air, creating a thatch of web-like thread. Milo noticed that Parasect was able to produce thicker, stronger threads, and seemed to have laced them with a spore attack again.

“Fury swipes!” Oscar said. Heracross launched itself at the intricate web, but as he swiped his claws, he seemed to be feeling drowsy and looked very sluggish. Oscar started shouting as Parasect strengthened the web, blocking Oscar from view.

“That should keep him busy,” Jake said. “Recall your Pokemon!”

Through fear that Medicham’s unstable state might invoke more nightmares, Milo instead scooped her up in his arms, recalling Croconaw in the process. The two boys ran through the dark tunnel, Oscar’s frustrated yells becoming quieter and quieter.

“What happened?” Milo asked. “Where’s Maisy?”

“I dunno,” Jake said.

“Cecilia said you were hanging out with Maisy tonight?”

“No, I went to Oscar’s house to speak to him,” Jake said. “But he doesn’t have a door leading to the chambers, he has a vertical hatch. I fell down it, and couldn’t get back up. I’ve been down here for hours.”

“Why did Cecilia lie?” Milo asked

“We can find out later,” Jake insisted.

Milo began to explain to him about Oscar’s intentions for Mitchelson Enterprises, and how he had repeatedly tried to knock Milo out and drag him to his home. Jake was shocked that Oscar wanted to bring down Mr Mitchelson’s company, and apologised for letting Oscar charm his way into his heart.

“Sex clouds the mind,” Milo muttered sagely. “He manipulated us both, Jake.”

“Parasect, keep spraying the area with spores,” Jake said. “Oscar will have a hard time following us.”

“I’m really impressed, you know,” Milo said, looking at Parasect’s empty white eyes. “He seems powerful.”

“He is,” Jake admitted.

They ran on until a voice called out for Milo. He recognised it as Cecilia’s voice, but after her lie about Jake’s whereabouts, Milo wasn’t sure if he could trust her. They walked on cautiously, and Milo recognised the path they were on as the one that he had taken from Cecilia’s basement.

“Milo! Jake!”

She ran over, looking pale-faced and horrified.

“I’m so sorry!”

Milo found himself embraced tightly; Jake was the same. Cecilia pulled them into a tight hug, sobbing into them uncontrollably.

“Cecilia,” Milo said. “It’s okay.”

“Maisy told us the truth,” she gasped. “About what Oscar intended to do with you!”

“You didn’t know?” Milo asked.

“Not a clue!” Cecilia wept. “Oh Milo I would never have let you go with him if I’d known! None of us would! Maisy was asked to say Jake was with her tonight…she didn’t know where he was, nobody did! Oh Jakey!”

“Oscar is somewhere in the caves,” Milo said. “We subdued him. He tried to kill me.”

“He has been fixated on you,” Cecilia said, leading them through the caves. “He knew you would be the solution. But we all disagreed with his enthusiasm because to us - and this is not meant as a bad thing - you didn’t seem any different to anyone else. Little did we know he wanted to manipulate you into betraying your father.”

“It’s okay,” Milo said. “But he’s a dangerous man. He needs to be arrested.”

“We will get on it,” Cecilia said.

She made to walk up the steps leading to her basement, but as she did, a buzzing filled the air. Milo stepped forward, Medicham still in his arms, as a swarm of Beedrill flew down into the tunnels from Cecilia’s house. She let out a scream as Jake summoned a safeguard shield, ordering Parasect to use a spore attack.

But it never arrived. Parasect was smashed across the back by Scizor, who appeared out of nowhere. The steel Pokemon began to charge up a flash cannon attack, aiming for the weakened mushroom Pokemon. Beedrill filled the tunnel, buzzing and flying around Milo, Jake and Cecilia.

“OSCAR!” Milo screamed, seeing Oscar stand in the distance. Scizor fired off the silvery attack and it smashed into Parasect, driving the creature into the rocky wall. Milo felt a Beedrill joust his side and roared in agony; Cecilia was sobbing uncontrollably.

“I WON’T LET YOU BEAT ME!” Oscar screamed. “You are coming with me!”

“Oscar!” Cecilia screamed. “Stop this!”

A Beedrill jabbed her in the side, causing her to stumble to the ground, tears streaming down her face. Milo gripped Scyther’s Pokeball, ready to fight the swarm of yellow Pokemon, but from his arms, Medicham opened her eyes. She wearily got to her feet as Scizor fired off beams of energy into the cave walls. Jake knelt by his Parasect’s side.

“Medicham,” Milo whispered, but she ignored him.

Holding both of her hands out, Medicham closed her eyes and concentrated hard. Slowly, the Beedrill in the tunnels began to grind to a halt. They hovered in mid-air, restrained by Medicham’s telekinesis. She was able to completely root all of them to the spot; they looked around quizzically, confused.

“Scizor!” Oscar cried. “Use a screech to disrupt her telekinesis!”

As he made the order, however, Medicham clicked her fingers. A huge chunk of rock burst from the side of the cave and battered Scizor, crushing the steel Pokemon beneath its weight. Oscar watched on, horrified, as Medicham threw her arms out, sending the Beedrill smashing into the rafters of the cave complex. As they hit the walls they dropped to the ground, lifeless, splattering around Milo, Jake, Cecilia and Oscar.

“Scizor?” Oscar asked.

Medicham was not done, however, as her hands glowed brightly. Nearing his Pokemon, who was pinned down by the rock, Oscar was hurled backwards by a stray blast of psychic energy. Milo noticed pebbles were floating in mid-air; Medicham was losing control.

“Medicham!” Milo said. She let out a scream as rocks fell from above; big slabs of the cave ceiling collapsed, smashing into the unconscious Beedrill and killing them instantly. Horrified, Milo grabbed Medicham’s hand and squeezed tightly.

Hold on, he thought. Please.

“Recall her!” Jake screamed. Milo nodded, firing the Pokeball beam at Medicham and pulling her inside with a strong red force. As she disappeared, more of the rocky tunnel began to cave in, causing Jake to recall Parasect and the two of them to run towards Cecilia’s house.

“What about Oscar?” Cecilia said, seeing the boy recovering a few metres away.

“We need to get out,” Milo said.

“But -”

Cecilia watched as Oscar recalled his Scizor from underneath the huge boulder, before getting out another Pokeball and attempting to recall one of the Beedrill. Unfortunately, the Pokeball shot out a grey beam, and it passed right through the striped body of his Pokemon. Evidently the creature was dead, and thus could not be returned. Oscar looked at the group fleetingly before disappearing into the cave complex, just as another boulder fell onto the path.

“HURRY!” Milo screamed.

*

Everything was happening so quickly. They escaped into Cecilia’s house, where many of The Apricorn Guild were grouped. Eli embraced Milo tightly, apologising for letting him down and allowing Oscar to attack him. Milo said nothing, his fingers tracing the cuts, grazes and dried blood all over his body. His clothes were in tatters, barely hanging off his frame.

The caves were not a safe place to be right now, but Kurt guessed that Oscar was alive and had managed to escape. He assured them that the boy was a very real threat, and urged Milo and Jake to get out of Azalea Town before the boy did something more dangerous.

“We are sealing off the entrances to The Chambers,” he said sagely. “But we cannot seal them all off quickly. Oscar might have escaped already, and he is more than likely planning his next move.”

“Here,” Cecilia said, walking over to Milo. She gave him a set of keys. “Take these.”

“What are they for?” Milo asked.

“My car,” she said, sniffing. “I’ve packed all your things up. Your tent, your bags, clothes, that guitar. It’s all in my car.”

“We can’t take your car,” Jake said, tears in his eyes.

“Yes you can,” she said, holding his hands in her own. “You both need to leave here as soon as you can. Oscar will be after you.”

“It sounds like you really hurt his Pokemon,” Eli muttered. “He’ll want to inflict the same onto you.”

“Cecilia’s right,” Milo said, taking the keys. “W-We need to head off. Now.”

“Drive East and you’ll get to the Union Valley,” Eli said. “It’s a day’s drive over there, then make your way to Violet City. Ask for a young man named Falkner.”

“Falkner?” Milo asked.

“He’ll protect you,” the man explained. “Drive to Violet, lay low. Oscar doesn’t have a car, so you’ll get a good head start.”

In no time at all Milo was starting the car outside Cecilia’s house. He had shaken Kurt and Eli’s hands, and even managed to give Sylvester Stallong a knowing nod. Jake was in tears, hugging Cecilia tightly as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Remember what I told you,” she said, tapping him on the nose and beaming. “Will you?”

“Of course,” Jake said, tears streaming down his face. Milo turned to Cecilia.

“You take care now,” she said, holding him tightly. “I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye like this,”

“Me too,” Milo said, kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

“I never told you this,” Cecilia said quickly. “But…I met my husband, Ted, when he was twenty two. He looked so much like you do now, Milo. He really did. You are such a handsome young man.”

“Thanks,” Milo said, noticing that this - the first mention of Cecilia’s husband - was making the parting all the sadder.

“You look after Jake,” she said quietly. Milo simply nodded, climbing into the maroon saloon car and putting it into first gear. Jake had his head buried in his hands, sobbing, as Milo slowly backed out of the drive. It was pitch black in the streets, so Milo flicked the headlights on, illuminating the group gathered outside of Cecilia’s house.

“God bless,” Cecilia said, waving solemnly. Milo pushed his foot down and sped off through the quiet town, not daring to look back.

“I-I’m going to miss everyone so much,” Jake sobbed, his face contorted with grief.

“Me too,” Milo said firmly. He stared straight ahead, for if he took one look at Jake, he feared he might burst into tears, too.






Next Chapter
Milo and Jake make their way to Violet City in order to escape from Oscar, but their efforts at being discrete are thwarted when Milo runs over a renowned Pokemon Professor.



Notes
-Hoooookay, dramatic chapter much?
-As ever, I like to close the arcs in a big way. What did you think about Oscar's motives? I hope you enjoyed the way his plans were revealed, and the brawl beneath Azalea.
-The chapter is primarily about Medicham, and her state of mind following the events in Goldenrod. I guess I wanted to end the arc addressing these issues before moving onto the next part of the fic.
-RE her new power: it's an idea I got from Heroes, and in that universe, the power to read surface memories is known as clairsentience. The actual description says nothing about 'seeing' the memories; it is more about experiencing them, sensing them. But in my world, and my fic, you do see and smell the memories if they are fresh.
-Medicham will play with her power in the next arc, so we'll see the extent of it a bit more.
-Was the Parasect icon at the chapter a red herring? I wanted you to think that Jake's Paras was evolving, then see the Parasect in the chapter and go 'Oh, so that's why Parasect is at the top of the chapter' then, when Parasect evolved, get a little surprised XD
-Parasect's metal-corrosion is from the Manga; I thought that was such a cool idea. Jake will be training Parasect some more; I plan on having him develop a tear-gas style powder and a laughing gas He also has that triple-spore combo as a Paras, which was poison, sleep and paralyse powders.
-I hope you found the end of the chapter sad. I felt that tearing Milo and Jake away from this new, adopted home was the most dramatic way to end the arc, especially with a vengeful Oscar on the loose.
-Milo and Jake are going to be a bit suspicious in the next town....although it does hold a few familliar faces.
-Falkner has a surprising role in the fic.

You may also be interested to know I'm having massive second-opinions on Milo's next capture. It's been planned for ages...but I'm having a change of heart, and viciously cycling through lists of Pokemon to find a replacement.

Anyway thoughts, etc, let me know! The next part of The Golden Arc is after this chap.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Okay.


Okay.

That was one good chapter. I liked the crazy intro with Medicham going nuts. Then her wicked memory powers, AND a giant watery alakazam. Since this fic I can't live without my Medicham in ASB. Cool pokemon.

The aromatherapy-thing was done before, but when Jake arrived in the caves with his evolved Parasect and the crazy spore-attacks, I knew you HAD to implement the aromatherapy before the battle-scene. I didn't like Sylvester's mom, though.

Who doesn't like Oscar? Os-fucking-car. Crazy bugs of doom unleashed! I like the part where Beedrill actually died, made it a bit more dramatic, gives Oscar even more reasons for revenge, etc. The battle was cool, although I hope to see some more 'special' bugs that Oscar has up his sleeve. Really keen on seeing his revenge develop.

In the manga, Falker is a policeman, so I'm not sure what we'll be played out during the next chapter.

Azalea was by far the best arc for me and I'm hoping they'll return, even if it's for a little while..

Nice chapter!

[Sike Saner]

Quite a way to start a chapter. Damn, Medicham's powers can certainly be scary--imagine if she had accidentally disintegrated Milo or something. I imagine that would have fucked her up something fierce, having something like that on her conscience, to say nothing of the obvious mess that it would've made of Milo, of course. X3

Her new memory absorbing and transferring abilities are interesting, too. I just hope for her sake that she doesn't ever lay a hand on some of the trees in that area should she ever find herself there again for whatever reason, all things considered...

Yeah, I suspect I'll never be able to think of Sylvester the same way again. XD;

And I really liked how the matter of parasect being able to produce corrosive spores as was mentioned earlier in the chapter came into play later in the chapter. ^^ Also good to see a parasect being at all in the spotlight.

That may have been a long chapter, but I got through it curiously quickly, and I'm not exactly a fast reader. I think it was just that it was such a riveting chapter--I really got drawn into it, really wanting to see what happened next. That effect increased even further after Oscar started showing his true colors, what with all the instances of shit hitting the fan that that brought, from the baton upside Milo's head to the various awesomenesses committed by Medicham and Parasect to the beedrill scene.

Other highlights and et cetera:

“Right,” Sylvester said. “I’ve been collecting wood.”

“Is there a lot of…good wood today?” Milo asked. He looked across at Jake, and knew that the boy was thinking ‘sexy times’ from the other day. He smiled.

To his credit (and fortune), at least Sylvester said "collecting wood" rather than "getting wood". X3

“Shit!” Maisy said, spraying Jake with crumbs.

XD Ew.

“…and Will would always start taking his clothes off in his bedroom, and run all the way down to the pool, pulling his sock off or getting his shirt over his head,” Milo said. Medicham gave a wry smile. “The house was a treasure-trail of dirty clothes. That’s when you started teleporting clothes to the washroom.”

Heh. I thought that was a cute moment, Milo bringing up the old days with Medicham like that.

Ditto nodded, sitting in Jake’s hand as he held the Pokemon up to the door. Ditto formed a thin finger and pressed it into the hole, before glowing white briefly and merging into an intricate iron key. Jake turned it with eagerness and nudged the door open, allowing Ditto to morph back on completion.

Yet another reason for me to consider ditto both awesome and terrifying.

“Fire punch!” Milo said. Medicham nodded and clicked her fingers with an aggressive snap; flames crackled along her palms, and she held both hands out towards Scizor. “Psychic!”

As the flames licked up her wrists, Medicham narrowed her eyes; a serpentine head rocketed out of the flames, twisting through the air at Scizor.

Awesome.

Milo’s eyes darted to the lake. Something was going on. Water was building in layers, forming shapes, and as the seconds passed, Milo realised that Medicham must be ok. A column of water developed a head with pointed ears and an unmistakable rippling moustache. Spindly arms wound down from chest-plates, wielding watery spoons, and clawed feet merged with the lake’s surface. Through sheer telekinesis, Medicham was manipulating the water in the lake to create a gigantic watery Alakazam.

Oscar turned to see the giant, staring with eyes as deep and lifeless as the bottom of the lake. The statue burst in a rushing deluge of water; Oscar was knocked off his feet and carried off into a steep declining path in the Azalea Chambers. Scizor was bowled off his feet by a rush of water that howled as it filled the caverns. Milo saw Medicham levitate off the surface of the water and appear at his side.

Oh my. o.o Also awesome.

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Hey! I remember when I was coming up with ideas for the fic, I liked seeing Medicham in the Fallarbor town Context in the anime. When deciding to do a contest fic, I didn't want girly, fanciful Pokemon everywhere like Milotic and Skitty, I wanted to show that appealing and coordinating can have a bit of bite. Since then, Medicham has literally become my favourite Pokemon.

Don't you think that water trick would make an excellent appeal?

As with Morty, Jasmine etc, Oscar will appear again. I can also promise you some pretty cool battles involving all of the above. Falkner's role in Violet is maybe going to be surprising, but it's more to do with the way he is handled.



Sike: Powder-Milo would definitely mess Medicham up! Her clairsentience will develop and unearth some shocking truths in the next few chapters, I hope you enjoy it.

Now that Paras has evolved, expect Jake to show off his Parasect at every oppertunity XD


Guys a chapter of The Golden Arc is being written, and I really am happy with it. They will be appearing between chapters more often. Also, below I have written a sort of mini-synopses of all the chapters of Show-Off because I like to be organised:




Chapter One - Departing Pua Samoa/Golden Glow Punch
http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...71&postcount=1
Milo leaves home to become a coordinator
[MEDICHAM]

Chapter Two: Arnold Palmer
Milo struggles to handle his mother’s contest Pokemon after it becomes clear she is not interested in battling.
(http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...1&postcount=11)
[ARCANINE]

Chapter Three: Crocodile Cooler
It’s the day of the Olivine contest, but Milo is too busy making sure his one-night stand doesn’t come back to haunt him.
(http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...8&postcount=19)
[AMPHAROS]

Chapter Four: Blue Lagoon
Milo catches an unusual Pokemon on the way to Ecruteak City. A visit to MooMoo farm with his assistant Jake soon turns sour when the farm is ransacked by hippies.
(http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...1&postcount=22)
[TOTODILE +]

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Chapter Five: Black Russian
Milo and Jake arrive in Ecruteak City, and are invited to a luxurious nightclub beneath the Burnt Tower. Milo has his eye on one of the Eevee sisters, but wakes up with some incriminating evidence.
(http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...5&postcount=30)
[EEVEELUTIONS]

Chapter Six: Satan’s Whiskers
Being back in Ecruteak stirs sentiments in Milo, who remembers his first meeting with the Gym Leader, Morty. Milo and Jake run into the new Ecruteak Gym leader instead.
(http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...6&postcount=39)
[HOUNDOOM]

Chapter Seven: Smoky Martini
Attempting to earn his fist ribbon, Milo enters the contest at Ecruteak with Totodile and Arcanine, but can’t hide his interest in the mysterious Luna Fuerte.
(http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...3&postcount=49)
[DONPHAN]

Chapter Eight: Flying Grasshopper
Escaping Ecruteak City and the Eevee sisters, Milo and Jake arrive in the National Park. Attempting to find Morty, who has stolen Milo’s phone, the two enter the bug-catching contest and scour the woods. Milo allies with an air-headed bug-fanatic, while Jake attempts to catch a Pokemon with the help of Milo’s Golduck.
http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...7&postcount=61
[FLYGON]

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Chapter Nine: Cosmopolitan
Milo settles into life in Goldenrod City, but a chance meeting with his ex sends him to a dark place. Jasmine attempts to recruit Whitney.
http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...8&postcount=72
[SCYTHER]

Chapter Ten: Sex On The Beach
Milo makes an enemy out of gay punk Dior. The boys go to a lavish nightclub in Goldenrod, where the nature of the Membership Card is finally explained. Jasmine fulfils her duties for her employer.
[CLOYSTER]

Chapter Eleven: Bloody Mary
Jake is inconsolable after losing his Pichu. Keen to find out more about the League Reclassification, Milo goes to find the Chairman of the Pokemon Fan Club, who demands one of Whitney’s new Gym Badges before he can enter. Milo challenges his ex at the new Speed Gym, but Whitney seems unstable…
[SPINDA]

Chapter Twelve: Fruit Bug
Milo enters the Goldenrod Contest and comes face to face with his enemy Dior, as well as the stunning Gina Gourmante. Jake meets a woman who dotes on her youngest daughter and loathes her eldest, and is shocked at the manipulative tactics she employs in order to try and succeed in the contest.
[VENONAT]

Chapter Thirteen: Glitter & Trash
The second part of the Goldenrod Contest. Milo faces a tough match against Dior in the finals, pitching Medicham and Scyther against Dior’s Venonat and Bayleef. Gina gets some bad news from her agent-turned-lover, Dave.
[BAYLEEF]

Chapter Fourteen: Adios, Motherfucker!
Milo is brought face-to-face with his disgruntled father, who reveals his plans for Milo. William’s Alakazam attacks Milo at Mitchelson Enterprises. Meanwhile, Jake aids Jonty Ink in tracking down a stolen Pokemon, a Pokemon that Jasmine has her eye on.
[ALAKAZAM]

Chapter Fifteen: Long Island Iced Tea
After leaving his old life behind, Milo struggles with a basic lifestyle. Jake is sick of working as a bike salesman and the two agree to head on towards Azalea Town to compete in the next contest. Milo and Jake meet a travelling family on the road.
[MAGNEMITE]

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Chapter Sixteen: Sidecar
Trekking through Ilex Forest, Milo and Jake get separated. The woods are filled with hallucinations and distortions, which seems to be caused by the hippies that raided MooMoo Farm. In Goldenrod, Jasmine’s cover is blown at the organisation.
[STANTLER]

Chapter Seventeen: Jungle Juice
Milo and Medicham recover emotionally from the trauma of Goldenrod City. Jake meets a man named Oscar, also known as Bugsy, who helps him find Milo and stop the hippies from brainwashing thousands of Farfetch’d.
[FARFETCH’D]

The Golden Arc: 1
After recruiting Morty, Mr Mitchelson sends him and Jasmine to Goldenrod City’s criminal underworld to thwart a shipment of stolen Pokemon.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Eighteen: Pink Lady
Arriving in Azalea Town, Milo and Jake settle in at a bed and breakfast run by a kind lady named Cecilia. Milo has his eye on local girl Maisy, while Jake seems besotted by the heroic Oscar. Milo manages to solve Totodile’s anger issues, but something about the former gym leader, Oscar, does not settle with Milo.
[SCIZOR]

Chapter Nineteen: Dr Pepper
Milo and Jake help Sylvester Stallong in Ilex Forest. A night in the local pub goes disastrously wrong when Oscar is savagely beaten by the landlord, Eli. Milo goes home with Maisy…and Jake makes a surprising connection.
[POOCHYENA]

Chapter Twenty: Tokyo Rose
Milo’s lack of training with Croconaw shows in the Azalea Contest. Oscar is determined to make Milo lose, but his actions do not go unnoticed by Jake. A desperate Maisy reveals some shocking truths to the boys, but it is too late. Oscar puts his plan in motion.
[ROSELIA]

Chapter Twenty-One: Headache
Milo helps Medicham overcome her mental anguish, causing her to reveal a shocking new side to her powers. Determined to find out what is going on in Azalea, Jake attempts to track down Oscar and get the truth from him. Meanwhile, Milo is accepted into The Apricorn Guild, but learns exactly what Oscar has had planned all along.
[PARASECT]

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[PancaKe]

I cried at the end of last chapter.

As per usual, I find that your chapters are so long that 1) I think they're over before they really are & 2) I forget comments from the beginning of the chapter to the end. Any criticisms I had before were ironed out completely as the ending was so magnificent. You tore them away from the town at a fantastic time, it was just as the audience was settled and enjoying their Azalea adventures. I did think that Celia and the others were in on it all along though, that would have been another twist for another time most likely.

YAY

[Chris 2.1]

Pancake: It sucked, right? I was a bit sad too...thanks for reading, I'm so glad you get a lot from the fic.

Ok guys I have been busy with job interviews (got a job in London whoooo) and so I've been a little busy.

Next

The next part of The Golden Arc. Morty and Jasmine go investigate a Pokemon theft in Azalea.

THEN

Milo and Jake's road trip to Violet City. It's involves a hit n run :p

[Chris 2.1]

The Golden Arc
Three
Buck's Fizz

Jasmine walked through the corridors of Mitchelson Enterprises in something of a hurry. She was late for a meeting with Michael, and it sounded important when he called her. The last two weeks had involved a number of interceptions around Goldenrod City, and many of the recovered Pokemon had been sent to MooMoo farm to live with Jasmine’s parents.

Unfortunately, organisations involved in stealing and trafficking Pokemon were beginning to notice infiltrations. Jasmine was no longer doing any undercover missions as security tightened at a number of locations where thefts took place.

As Jasmine hurried along, a large purple shape materialised instantly. She screamed and staggered backwards as Morty formed next to his Gengar. Seeing Jasmine stumble made him laugh.

“Stop that!” she cried.

“I was running late,” Morty said, throwing a scarf around his shoulders. “So are you, by the looks of things. Want me to lend Gengar to you?”

“No thank you,” she said, walking on to Mr Mitchelson’s office. “Come on.”

They entered the luxurious office, Morty recalling his Gengar as he did so. At their arrival, Michael Mitchelson raised his eyebrows and examined something on his computer. Bill was already sitting in front of Mr Mitchelson.

“Thank you for coming,” he said to the pair, wearing a crisp navy suit today.

“It sounded urgent,” Jasmine said, as she sat down.

“We might have hit a breakthrough,” Mr Mitchelson explained. “Bill, can you fill us all in?”

“Yes, of course,” the man said. Bill was incredibly British, muttering as he got out of his seat and flicked his foppish brown hair from his face. “Ahem. Right. Yes, well I was chasing up a lead and I suddenly noticed that someone - something - ho-ho ! - was monitoring our systems.”

Jasmine took notes on a stylish jotter while Morty stared around the room idly.

“I did a trace and found an encrypted code that belongs to what was monitoring our systems. It wasn’t an IP address, so it didn’t seem like a computer. It had to be something else.”

“Something is monitoring us?” Jasmine asked. “But - this whole organisation Mr Mitchelson has is so small, it runs under Mitchelson Enterprises’s operations! How are we even detectable?”

“Uh…yea!” Morty chimed.

“Thank you Mortimer,” Bill said, looking nervous. “Ah. So you see, I looked at it from a different angle. What can monitor us? You see? And as soon as I posed that question, it made sense. It’s not a person, per se. It’s a Porygon.”

“A Porygon?” Jasmine asked. “Virtual Pokemon?”

“Indeed,” Bill said.

“Bill, why don’t you tell us all how the Porygon species function, exactly,” Mr Mitchelson said. Bill nodded vigorously.

“The Silph company first discovered them. They seem to have mutated from a computational component, and over the last century or so, the Porygon have actually adapted to urban environments. They can ‘eat’, that is, decode information and alter their data to believe they are full. They can reproduce, that is to say, they can create a complex code akin to a ‘copy and paste’ - ho ho! But after data hackers began breeding Porygon to commit cyber crimes, many Porygon were famously wiped out by an intentional viral attack. Silph needed to start again.

“Since then, Porygon, and their superior upgraded forms, Porygon2 and PorygonZ have been bred exclusively in major companies,” Bill went on, “In fact, many Porygon are developed with inhibitor chips which prevent them from reproducing so that people can raise and battle Porygon without being able to breed them.”

“There was a Porygon reported stolen a couple of weeks ago,” Mr Mitchelson said. “We spoke to the company it belonged to and the code matches that of the infiltrator to our systems. So whoever stole the Porygon is monitoring what we’re doing.”

“Can you stop them?” Jasmine asked.

“Bill is currently working on installing a device into our company’s Porygon that will upgrade it into a Porygon2. That will be able to fight off the Porygon.”

“How do they monitor things?” Morty asked.

“Porygon have a physical form, but they can transfer their consciousness to cyberspace,” Bill said. “And they are very obedient. So if you give a Porygon information, it can find it in cyberspace.”

“Like Google?” Morty asked.

“Or Yahoo,” Jasmine pointed out.

“Exactly, but they are far more…fluid,” Bill said. “Someone doesn’t have to know that Mr Mitchelson has launched a side-company to deal with the thefts in Goldenrod. All they need is to gain access to our security cameras.”

“I was once told Porygon can ’talk to machines’,” Jasmine said. “What does that mean?”

“It means a Porygon can transfer that consciousness to other machinery as well as computers. They could use their natural technological brain to infiltrate a vehicle, a piece of machinery or a computer. This is why their ownership is strict. You could programme your Porygon to get all the money from an ATM,” said Bill. “Or to take over the Magnet Train.”

“So where is this Porygon?” Jasmine asked.

“Azalea Town,” Mr Mitchelson said. “I want you to go and scour the place.”

“We can do that,” Morty said with confidence. Jasmine narrowed her eyes at him, unappreciative of his cock-sure attitude. Bill began to gather his things, and both Morty and Jasmine stood to leave. Jasmine caught Mr Mitchelson’s eye.

“Can I speak with you in private, please?” he asked. Jasmine agreed, and nodded at Morty as he made his way out the room with Bill. “Take a seat.”

Jasmine sat back down, curious why she had been asked to stay back. She sat on the edge of the seat, legs drawn together, back straight. It was oddly tense.

“Jasmine,” Mr Mitchelson said calmly. “Why do you have a Pokeball in your bag containing a Pichu?”

The words crept over Jasmine’s body and she froze on the spot. She daren’t blink, instead staring at Mr Mitchelson directly and keeping her body rigid. How had he known she had brought the Pokemon back from MooMoo Farm?

“I…don’t,” Jasmine muttered.

“Don’t lie to me, Jasmine,” Mr Mitchelson said, sounding more stern. “You’re one of the closest people to me in this operation, and I won’t have you lie to me. Why do you have a Pichu with you? Why that Pichu?”

As Jasmine remained silent, Mr Mitchelson sighed.

“You know the devices which Bill designed, to aid you in your interception of Pokemon?” he said. “They scan the Pokeball and analyse the weight, the Pokeball output, and so on. I had him install sensors in the frame of the door to my office, and the computer on my desk lets me know what species people are carrying. I know Bill has his Eevee and Oddish with him, and I know Morty is carrying his Gengar, Haunter and Misdreavus. It also tells me that, in addition to your Steelix, Empoleon and Magneton, you are carrying a Pichu, one whose I.D matches the one you rescued from The Hieroglyph Palace.”

“I’m sorry,” Jasmine began. “I wa-

“You know the rules,” Mr Mitchelson said coldly. “We don’t try and reunite people and Pokemon. Once you get emotionally invested then you lose track of why we’re here.”

“But I haven’t lost track,” Jasmine insisted. Mr Mitchelson met her with a challenging stare.

“So what is your plan,” he asked. “In reuniting Pichu with his trainer?”

“Well,” Jasmine began.

“Because the boy who owned this Pichu - Jake Jackson - is with my son. You are aware of this. And if my son is still coordinating, then they will be moving East - Violet City, perhaps Cherrygrove. But you, Jasmine, you are based in Goldenrod, occasionally being sent left or right to do various tasks.

“Soon a situation will arise where you feel compelled to pursue this boy and return his Pichu more than you feel compelled to do your duty for me and this company,” he continued. “And I can’t have that, Jasmine. I’ve worked too hard with you for you to abandon me.”

“I won’t!” she argued. “I just want this Pichu to be reunited with his trainer - he cries every night!”

“We do not reunite people and Pokemon,” repeated Mr Mitchelson. “That is the rule.”

“Just because William will never be reunited with his Pokemon, that doesn’t mean other people have to suffer,” Jasmine said, standing up. She stared at Mr Mitchelson, whose eyes widened at the mention of his eldest son. “I think that’s very cold.”

“Get out my office,” Mr Mitchelson whispered, staring at his desk. “Go and get ready for your job. For gods sake, do it right!”

Slowly, he lifted his head and looked into Jasmine’s eyes.

“I do a lot for you. This job has innumerable comforts, and you need to remember to respect me, Jasmine.”

“Of co-

“Get out,” he repeated. “Go.”

Jasmine nodded, turning on the spot and rushing out of the office. It was only as she left, when she thought about the day she murdered Adam Anderson, that she realised how secure she was working for Michael Mitchelson. He had covered up the death, made sure that Jasmine was not a suspect, and saved her from a terrible fate. Similarly, what would have happened if her infiltration of the corrupt Pokemon company had been revealed? Largo LeGrande may have smothered her beneath his gigantic Muk, like so many before her.

Shutting the office door, it was clear to Jasmine that she had gone too far mentioning William.

*

At the locker rooms, Jasmine changed into some more professional clothes. She paired a pastel blue dress with a slim grey blazer, and clipped her brown hair back. She opted to wear some comfortable plimsolls for the mission, thinking that the bumpy terrain in Azalea was no place for wedge shoes.

“Ready?” said Morty. He had changed into some stone coloured chinos, with a zip-up black fleece and his signature chunky knit scarf. His messy hair was also tamed with a purple headband.

“Yup,” Jasmine replied, clutching her bag.

“Bill gave me a device that will help track the Porygon,” Morty said. “It looks like a gay calculator.”

Jasmine eyed the squat device, and had to agree.

“Let’s go then,” she muttered. Morty gripped Jasmine’s upper arm, and her eyes darted to him. Was it strange that she thought he had handsome hands, examining them wrapped around her? Not at all, Jasmine assured herself. His scent was heavenly; a smoky mix of pine and -

WHOOSH

Jasmine’s mind was blocked by the sudden feeling of weightlessness. It was like a lack of control; she was fearful her mind would somersault or topple onto itself. Meanwhile, her left foot slipped slightly out of her plimsoll and she feared she may lose it in, well, wherever she was.

Looking around, she found that they were in a sunny clearing on the edge of town. Once Morty let go of her, her knees buckled and she collapsed on the ground. Her legs were tingling and felt wobbly. Morty saw her fall and held a hand out.

“Thanks,” Jasmine said. “Okay, so what does the reader say?”

“It’s not far,” Morty said. “In a small house in the middle of the town, by the looks of things.”

“I wonder what it’s doing here, of all places?” Jasmine said. “Maybe the organisation has a warehouse here, where they base their operations.”

“If they have a legitimate Porygon, the organisation could be run by someone in Saffron City,” Morty pointed out. “If Porygon can transfer their…concis-

“Consciousness,” Jasmine said, correcting him. Morty smiled weakly, and Jasmine felt her heart melt slightly.

They walked through the quiet town, noticing a few Slowpoke sitting around. One was chewing its tail happily, its eyes staring blankly ahead. There were some people milling around the town, tending to their gardens, chatting over white picket fences or playing with their Pokemon, but there was something decidedly odd about the atmosphere.

A young girl was jogging down the street, red-checked and looking flustered. She slowed down as she passed Jasmine and Morty, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. Morty said hello to the girl, but she did not reply.

“I knew Azalea was a tight-knit community, but this is mental,” he said. They walked on, noticing a strong scent of fresh grass and a wonderful aroma of cooking coming from a nearby house. Soon, they arrived at the squat little cottage that was producing the signal.

There was a brief stone path leading to the front door, but as the two approached it, there was something distinctly wrong with the house. The beautiful windows were boarded up from the inside, despite the glass panes being untouched, and the door handle had been wrenched off.

“What do you think of this?” Jasmine’s voice was a mere whisper, perhaps because she sensed trouble. Morty did not voice a reply; he shrugged and felt the door frame, which had been sealed shut with concrete. The beautiful house was tarnished with shreds of neglect, but it was so carefully done, so precise. Jasmine stepped closer to the door and attempted to hear something.

“It’s quiet,” she noticed.

“Fuck this,” Morty said, nodding. Gengar materialised before them and gripped his trainer’s arm with a clawed hand. “Knock on the door a bit more. Be loud. If something weird is going on in here, they might get spooked a bit by loud noises.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Inside,” Morty said. Gengar rippled softly and a liquid mirror sheen trickled across his sharp purple spikes and across his face. Morty’s body began to take on the same effect, and Gengar led his trainer through the side of the house, phasing through the wall. Jasmine watched the wall ripple as if mildly disturbed, like the surface of a lake.

“Wait!” she hissed, letting out a sigh as Morty disappeared. On his advice, she knocked the door loudly, but her sonorous raps echoed out into nothing.

This was ridiculous. Morty wasn’t trained in the way that she was; for months now she had been doing jobs for Mr Mitchelson, and here she was standing outside a house like an idiot. Just as she prepared to send out a Pokemon, something invisible grabbed her, and she was pulled through the door, feeling it melt and bubble around her.

Staggering into the living room, Jasmine briefly saw Gengar’s giggling face, before he walked through the next wall and wandered around. Morty came from downstairs, his cloak having faded.

“Nobody here,” he muttered. “The whole house is empty.”

“Or they’re cloaking,” Jasmine said, fiddling with the latch on a Pokeball. She found her older Pokeballs had a more aggressive latch, and took some fiddling to open. Her Magneton burst from the flash of light, hovering in mid-air and making a mechanical bleeping noise.

“Sonicboom,” she ordered, rushing to the foot of the staircase. Magneton throbbed briefly and unleashed a powerful blast of pressured air from all around; the shockwave slammed into the walls, chairs and bookcases with a loud bang.

Jasmine turned to see the space by the wall quiver; a man let out a moan as he came out of a cloaked veil, clutching his stomach. The man had greying hair and was quite well-built; he fell against a chair and roared out loud.

“FUCK!” he cried.

“Who are you?” Jasmine asked suddenly.

“Who the fuck are you!” the man shouted. He opened his shirt up to examine it; Magneton’s powerful shockwave had bruised his stomach and chest; the man prodded his tummy and recoiled in pain. “What do you want?”

“My name is Jasmine,” Jasmine said. “This is Morty. We are here to take the Porygon back.”

“What is your name?” Morty asked.

“My name is Eli,” he said. “And I don’t live here, so I don’t know anything about a Porygon.”

“What are you doing here, Eli?” Jasmine asked.

“Keeping an eye on the prisoner,” he replied. “One of our townspeople turned his back on the community. Went a bit funny. He tried to kill two boys who were passing through. We knew that if we exiled him from our community, he would go and find these boys and do harm to them, so we decided to imprison him in his house. That’s why the door is welded shut, and the windows boarded up. Townsfolk take it in turns to watch him.”

“Who is the prisoner?” Jasmine asked.

“His name is Oscar,” Eli replied. Jasmine and Morty both gasped.

“The former gym leader?”

“That’s right,” Eli said. “The reclassification hit us hard, we lost the gym, and Oscar lost purpose.”

“Where is he now?” Morty asked.

“In the basement,” Eli said, pointing to an ornate wooden door. Jasmine was about to walk to the door when Eli shuffled along and blocked her path. “So…who do you two work for, exactly?”

“The Pokemon Task Force,” Jasmine said, picking the name at random. “A Porygon was stolen from a company in Goldenrod and it’s been accessing private information. We’re here to recover it.”

“And you think Oscar has it?” Eli asked.

“Our sources say so,” Jasmine replied.

“Well, I’ll lead you down into the basement,” Eli began, but Jasmine placed a hand on the man’s chest.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “Magneton!”

Throbbing again, Magneton’s magnetic units shook and the steel banister running up the stairs peeled off the wall and flew through the air. Magneton concentrated and bent it slightly, so that it closely resembled a horseshoe shape. On Jasmine’s command, the Pokemon drove the metal into the wall, pinning Eli up against the side of the room.

“HEY!” He roared, reaching down to twist the metal. “What are you doing?”

“Jasmine!” Morty said, looking surprised.

“We can’t trust this man, it could be a trap,” Jasmine said. Magneton then sent a volley of sparks conducting through the metal, causing it to brim with volts. Eli looked reluctant to squirm or touch the bar pinning him to the wall.

Magneton swooped through the air and smashed through the door leading into the basement.

“Stop! I’m not a bad person!” Eli said. “I’m on your side!”

Jasmine walked into the basement and navigated the steep, wooden steps. It was cold here, she noticed. Morty did not follow; he lingered in the living room, concerned for the man Eli. Magneton bobbed at Jasmine’s side, but he did not light the way - the light was already on.

As she descended, Jasmine saw a thick metal hatch in the ground, encased in a thick sheet of ice. Sitting at a desk was Oscar, the former gym leader of Azalea town. His face was bruised and swollen somewhat, and his hair looked very messy. He saw Jasmine and his eyes lit up, instantly getting off his chair and walking over.

“What a surprise,” Oscar said.

“Oscar!” Jasmine cried.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“Where is the Porygon,” Jasmine asked.

“Excuse me?” Oscar said, laughing.

“TELL ME!” she shouted. Oscar flinched at her cold, emotionless manner and frowned.

“I have no idea what you’re -”

Jasmine grabbed Oscar’s shirt and slammed him against the wall. She snarled, staring into his eyes and turning to throw him to the ground. Lifeless and limp like a rag doll, Oscar was dropped to the ground, where he let out a groan.

Morty came down the stairs to see what the commotion was. Gengar floated alongside him.

“There is a Porygon in this house,” Jasmine said. “You’ve been using it to access classified information. It makes sense that it would be you; seeing what is going on with the Reclassification, are we?”

“And what if I am?” Oscar snapped. “I was dumped by the Johto League. Our whole town has been royally fucked over, and I want to know what’s going on. You can’t just say that our gym wasn’t good enough. There has to be a grand plan!”

“You stole the Porygon from Goldenrod City,” Jasmine said. “And you need a license to use them.”

“Who are you working for, exactly?” Oscar asked, getting to his feet. “The Police? The Johto League? Michael Mitchelson?”

“Tell me where Porygon is located,” she said, ignoring his remark. Oscar saw Morty on the stairs and looked intrigued.

“And Mortimer too?” he said. “Johto League - I knew it. They replace the gym leaders then recruit the has-beens. Where was my invite, huh?”

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Jasmine said.

“Go to hell,” Oscar replied. In an instant, Jasmine pulled out a gun and pointed it squarely at Oscar. His eyes widened at the sight of the pistol, and his eyebrows disappeared into his messy purple hair. Morty let out a cry at seeing Jasmine armed; he had no idea she was carrying a weapon.

“You have to do what you have to do,” she said sagely. “Oscar. Hand the Porygon over.”

“Firearms?” Oscar said, nodding. “What happened to fighting with Pokemon, Jasmine?”

“Tell me where it -”

“I mean, your Steelix was always -”

“I said tell me where the Pory-”

“-far far stronger than anything I’d-”

“Oscar, one last time.”

“-if anything, you weren’t capable -”

“TELL ME WHERE IT IS!”

Oscar paused, looking into Jasmine’s eyes. Her forehead was shining with sweat, but her grip was strong. He simply bit his tongue, smiling at her as the seconds passed. Jasmine shook her head a fraction and squeezed the trigger.

With an almighty bang, Oscar slumped to the ground. Morty let out a long cry and raced down the stairs, Gengar at his side; Jasmine’s hands shook and she staggered backwards. Oscar got to his feet, clutching a bloody wound in his arm, his eyes screwed up in pain.

“Jasmine!” Morty gasped. He tried to intervene, but Magneton created an electromagnetic force field to block Morty off from Jasmine and Oscar. Bending down to Oscar’s side, Jasmine gripped his arm and eyed the wound suspiciously.

“Bullet’s still in,” she said, as Oscar let out a long, infantile moan. Her thumb wiggled along Oscar’s arm until she found the wound; in a flash, she dug her thumb into the wound and pressed against the bullet. Oscar let out a scream and withered around on the ground, but he was too weak to escape Jasmine’s grip.

“NO!” he wept. “Oh god…Oh god!”

“Where is it,” she hissed.

“In the safe! On the wall!” Oscar gasped. “There’s a code. It’s 74-26-3.”

Jasmine walked to the wall, where a dial was set into the stone. Turning the dial to the numbers in the correct order, the door popped open. A frosted glass Pokeball was inside, with a company logo on the front that Jasmine did not recognise. She scanned the device, confirming it to be the Porygon that Mr Mitchelson had mentioned.

“This is it,” she called to Morty. Magneton dropped the force field and she walked over to him as he made his way back up the stairs. “Mission accomplished.”

He said nothing, taking the steps two at a time and not looking back at all. Jasmine briefly glanced across at Oscar, who was clutching his arm and moaning in pain. She ran after Morty, who had already emerged in the living room.

“Morty!” she shouted, as she entered the living room. He can’t have heard her; with Gengar he phased effortlessly through the front door. Eli, who was still pinned against the wall, let out a hollow laugh.

“Did you kill Oscar?” he asked.

“No,” Jasmine muttered. “He’s fine.”

“Oh,” he replied. Something in his voice sounded sour. “Your friend isn’t happy.”

“I need to get out the house,” Jasmine said, running to the door. It was welded shut, obviously to prevent Oscar from leaving. Jasmine pointed to the boarded up window and Magneton unleashed a blistering attack that ploughed through the boards and splintered the thin wood. Jasmine leapt out the window as Eli screamed for her to come back.

“Morty!” she said, running after the boy, who was wandering along the quiet Azalea street. “Stop! Why are you not speaking to me?”

“You just shot a man in the arm, point blank,” he snapped. “No thinking. No sign of angst. You just did it, BANG. Why do you even have a gun?”

“Mr Mitchelson wanted me to be trained,” she said. “In case I ever need to protect myself.”

“You didn’t use it to protect yourself! You shot him! He could die!”

“He won’t die from the gunshot,” Jasmine assured him. Morty didn’t seem to be any happier.

“I can’t believe you have it in you,” he said sadly. “To shoot…to kill. I’m really surprised, Jasmine.”

Jasmine felt a pang of regret at shooting Oscar, even though it had helped them secure the Porygon. Something in Morty’s eyes spoke volumes; he looked so distant, almost afraid of Jasmine. She stared back, lost for words, wondering just what this company had done to her. Images of Adam Anderson’s dead body flashed through her mind.

“Let’s go,” he murmured. Jasmine nodded, fighting back tears.

*

“This is very amusing,” Oscar said, gritting his teeth as he stared down at Eli, pinned to the wall. After stemming the bleeding in his arm, wrapping cloth around it and having his Spinarak bandage it up, Oscar had made his way out the basement to find Eli in his living room.

His arm felt heavy and full of sharp stings; it wasn’t pleasant moving it. Spinarak had created a sling from its durable silk for Oscar, which helped. Oscar stared at Eli, who struggled to get the bar lodged out from the wall.

“I feel like a spider that has come across the most delicious fly,” Oscar admitted. “You thought you could imprison me like a mere animal - I almost expected a chain around my neck.”

“You needed to be kept away,” Eli said. “We all agreed on it.”

“I do seem like a liability,” he mused. “But I digress. I’ve been shot, but I can’t let that stop me.”

He walked to a bookcase across the room and withdrew a large copy of John Steinbeck’s Of Mice And Men. Opening it, Oscar found a switchblade in a hollowed-out compartment. He took the knife and turned to Eli.

“Did you ever read it?” he asked. “It’s all about dreams. About the power of a dream, and what that means to have something to work towards. I have a dream, Eli. But before I can look to the future, I need to forget my past, I need to banish the bad things that happened to me.

“Look what you did to my face. The bridge of my nose is scarred, my brow is swollen, and I’m very, very bruised. Your attack on me in The Mucky Pup was barbaric.”

“You crossed the line,” Eli snarled.

“Yea?” he said. “Well, now I’m going to do this.”

Oscar drew the blade and slashed it across Eli’s throat. Blood spilled down the man’s front as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Breathes became thick, desperate gasps. Oscar watched disinterestedly before cleaning the blade and walking to the shattered window frame.

“We’re even,” he said light-heartedly, smiling as he leapt out the frame. Quickly he dashed through the quiet streets, keeping close to the sides of buildings and making his way West. If anybody saw him, things would turn sour very quickly. It did not take long for Oscar to inch across Azalea and slip into the overgrowth that led into Ilex Forest.

Once the leafy canopies sheltered his face from the heat, he let out a sigh. The magnitude of what he had done hadn’t really hit him yet, but he believed it was the right course of action. Oscar had never forgiven Eli after his savage attack last week. The man had always been an obstacle, but one that would be cleared from now on.

Noticing the quietness of the area he was in, Oscar got his phone out. As he began scrolling through his contacts, trying to find a phone number, a powerful voice rang out from behind him.

“I’m here.”

Oscar turned.

“Chuck!” he exclaimed, putting his phone away. Chuck was far taller than Oscar, and he did not look happy. “I was about to call-”

“You were supposed to call me days ago,” Chuck said. “Come with me. We have a lot of work to do.”





Notes
-Ok this part of the golden arc was huge. I had a lot to do....so a lot made it in. Normally they're half this length, and will be, normally.
-I wanted to address a few things here:
1-the Porygon that was stolen in Goldenrod. Oscar was going to reveal to Milo that he had it in Ch21 but I moved it.
2-the ramifications of Jasmine's time at this company. She is more of a cold blooded killer than she realises. Morty was also a bit freaked out by Jasmine's cut-throat approach to things
3-to show that Oscar has been working with Chuck.


Feedback would be greatly appreciated

Ch22 soon!