Re: Show-Off
I didn't realise it had been so long. I've been really busy with University but here is Chapter Two. This chapter begins a new trend in chapter names. See if you can work out what it is. I like having some kind of quirk to chapter titles, like how TPMLs chapters were named after members of ASB.
Chapter 3 is almost completed. 2 and 3 spend time building up the premise of the fic more; by Chapter 4, we'll be fully equipped for the road ahead.
Show-Off
-II-
Arnold Palmer
“Hello?”
“It’s Milo,” came the voice. Milo held the phone to his ear with his finger in the other, as the boat was whipping across the ocean and it was very loud.
“Oh, it’s you,” Chuck grumbled.
“Why the bad attitude?” asked Milo.
“I don’t have a bad attitude,” came the coarse reply.
“Yes you do!” Milo said. “You sound grumpy. Are you still on that bloody cliff top?”
“No I am not,” Chuck replied. “I’m in Cianwood.”
“Good,” Milo replied. “That’s why I was ringing you. To make sure you went home.”
“You know I’m twenty years older than you,” Chuck said. “You shouldn’t be parenting me.”
“Then stop acting like a child,” Milo said. Medicham raised her eyebrows.
“I’m in the doghouse with Sophie, if you must know,” Chuck replied. “She’s cross that I didn’t talk to her when I got upset about the Gym thing.”
“All good relationships are based on communication,” Milo said with pride.
“Did you speak to your father?” Chuck asked.
“Can’t get through to him,” Milo replied. “I have been trying.”
“Thank you,” Chuck said. “Olivine Gym was still under reconstruction when I tried ringing them, but I spoke around to see if I could find out anything else about the Reclassification. Not many people are happy Claire kept her job at Blackthorn.”
“Connections,” Milo said. “She’s an influential person.”
“The whole thing is being very hushed up,” Chuck said. “Changes are happening almost overnight.”
“Gym Leaders have big followers,” Milo said, recalling the time he travelled through Goldenrod on his league journey. There he discovered a society for fans of Pokemon battles, where many residents had a strange obsession with some of the Gym Leaders.
“Apparently I don’t,” Chuck moaned.
“Oh for Christ’s sake Chuck, stop being so miserable,” Milo snapped. “Look, we’re nearly at Olivine Port now. I have to go.”
“What are you doing in Olivine?” Chuck asked. Milo paused for a moment. He hadn’t thought what to tell people about his participation in the Olivine Contest. As his mouth hung open, he flatly hung up, feeling as if his heart was lodged somewhere in his throat.
Milo was brought back to reality at the sound of his sister chuckling to herself. She lay on a lounger, drinking bottled water in her bikini as some of her Pokemon similarly relaxed. Snubbul lay curled at her feet, while Togetic flew around dodging Chinchou’s jets of water.
“Something funny?” Milo asked.
“You haven’t even got the nerve to tell people what you’re up to!” she cried. “You hate to admit the truth. Chuck will disown you if he learns his prize student is starting to do contests. And don’t even get me started on Dad.”
“Piss off,” Milo snapped. Mia raised her eyebrows.
“Did I touch a nerve?” she said, giggling again. Milo turned and walked along the boat, ordering Medicham to follow.
“I think you should use your telekinesis to fling Weepinbell off the boat,” Milo joked, watching from afar at Mia’s flytrap Pokemon. It hung lazily off the guide rail of the boat, soaking up sun with its big eyes drooped. “It would be so funny.”
Medicham gave him a sour look, snapping her fingers and bolting her trainer’s mouth shut in an instant. Milo massaged his jaw as it sprang back open.
“I bit my tongue,” he said, seeing a shadow of a smile on Medicham’s face. “So how you feeling about this impending contest? I’ll be using you in the battle rounds, so you need to make sure your skills are honed.”
Medicham nodded. She objected to Milo’s request of using her powers to pull Mia’s hair or levitating her lounger, so Milo went to see Andrew, who was steering the boat with his Nosepass. The large blocky Pokemon’s nose helped him keep on course by detecting North.
“You couldn’t just use a compass?” Milo rasped.
“Milo,” Andrew said. “Don’t be such a killjoy.”
They whizzed over the waves, noticing birds flying high in the dreamy sky. Milo noticed Andrew, in a pair of white chinos and a striped t-shirt, looked slightly nautical as he steered the ship. The navy blazer did not help. Milo’s lips curled into a smile but, without looking, Andrew spoke up.
“Laugh all you want, Amy chose these out for me,” Andrew explained calmly.
“Oh yea, the hot fiancée,” Milo replied. “How is she?”
“She’s very well,” Andrew replied. After proposing to his childhood sweetheart, Andrew had planned on handing in his resignation to Meredith. Not enjoying the idea of losing Andrew, Meredith had a house constructed on the other side of the island, giving it to the couple as an impending wedding present. Andrew did so many things around the estate, it would be very odd without him. Milo loved trying to wind up the calm, peaceful man, but hated that he could never incur any rage in the man.
“So Amy likes dressing you up as a gay sailor, huh?” Milo smirked.
“Well she prefers un-dressing me really,” came the reply.
“Oh shut up,” Milo snapped, turning and leaving the room. “That’s a horrible mental image!”
“I win,” Andrew chuckled.
Slowly the boat slid into the luxurious dock of Olivine, and Milo, unable to withstand the company of his sister or Andrew, eagerly ran to the railings to have a look at the city. The Port was a mile or so away from the main city, but the seaside hub could be visible from Olivine Port.
As they docked at the Port, Milo could smell a strong, salty scent mixed with sandy grains. Walking off onto the dock, he saw market stalls set up, some selling foods, some selling Pokemon. A man was boasting high quality Goldeen eggs, whacking a fan against the wall to get attention as the myriad of speckled eggs lay at the bottom of a vast tank. Another stall was selling clothes made from fine Ariados silk. Milo, Andrew and Mia walked through the port.
“God this place smells,” Mia said. “When is my taxi taking me to the airport?”
“I’ll book one now,” Andrew said calmly, getting his phone out. There was an airstrip four miles from the Port, which was only a short walk from the main city. Milo was more interested in the attractions of the Port, and walked over to a man holding a stall with a large Cloyster by the side.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Milo asked.
“Fancy winning a prize, son?” the man behind the stall asked. He had a big belly, and an odd smell of fried food.
“I’m 20 - don‘t call me son,” Milo rasped. “But what’s the prize? And how do I get it?”
“It’s the Macho Brace,” the man said jovially, pulling out a curious-looking object. It was a training item, with a coil in the centre and two grip-pads either side. The man demonstrated its use, applying pressure to the pads. “Helps train Pokemon up. Makes them stronger, faster.”
“Do I really want one of those?” Milo said to himself. “I suppose I could sell it. Anyway what do I have to do?”
The man looked upset at Milo’s comment, but pointed to his Cloyster, whose shell was firmly shut.
“All you need to do is open this Cloyster’s shell.”
“Cloyster have tough shells,” Milo noted, wishing he had his Kingler with him - crabhammer would surely crack the thing open like a nut. “Can I use a Pokemon?”
“Well of course you can son, I wouldn’t expect you to open it without,” the man chuckled. Milo turned to Medicham, who had a hand on her hip, staring at the challenge with disbelief.
“I’ll try,” Milo said. Medicham cracked her knuckles and walked forward, while Mia watched on with Andrew, interested.
“Excellent! Whenever you’re ready then,” the man said.
“Medicham use psychic to prise the shell open,” Milo ordered.
Medicham nodded and focused her mind, trying to focus precisely on the crack where the two halves of the shell met. Straining, Medicham shook slightly as the shell stayed firmly shut. The space around the psychic Pokemon rippled; a side-effect of the psychic powers. Medicham was making no progress on the bivalve Pokemon, and after a few more minutes, stopped trying, gasping slightly.
“What!?” Milo gasped. “Medicham, again. Focus.”
Hands held out, Medicham was parting them and exerting a great deal of force trying to pull open the shell. Sweat dribbled down her forehead in thick beads as the large salesman observed gleefully. Eventually, Medicham collapsed onto her knees.
“Aww that’s too bad,” the man said, walking forward. “That’s £10 please.”
“Damn you,” Milo said, getting his wallet out and handing the man the note. “It’s a con!”
“People have won in the past, I assure you,” the man said warmly, slipping the note in his pocket.
“I want to try,” Mia said suddenly, stepping forward.
“What are you going to do Mi, dance in front of it?” Milo scoffed, humiliated by his lack of victory over the man’s stall. Mia walked past, pulling a Pokeball from her bag.
“Ok then,” said the man behind the stall, eager for more money. “Same rules darling. Open the shell1”
The man nodded and Mia released her Pokemon. Chinchou emerged in a burst of light, giving a cry as it’s bulbs fizzed with sparks.
“Chinch, use a water gun on the part where the shells meet,” Mia ordered. Milo rolled his eyes as the little blue fish spouted a rather delicate looking jet of water. It hit the shell but splashback ensued; the shell was too tough. Mia looked nonplussed.
“Pay the man,” Milo told his sister.
“I’m not finished,” she said firmly, looking at the puddles of water around Cloyster. “Chinch, use a thunder wave.”
Nodding, the Pokemon brimmed with light and tendrils of lightening buzzed from it’s bulbs. They zapped around the ground, conducting through the water in the puddles. The water around Cloyster’s base soon erupted in electricity, shocking Cloyster and causing the Pokemon’s shell to pop open in pain, revealing the round, fleshy face of the mysterious Pokemon. Unhappy, Cloyster’s face contorted and it narrowed its eyes, pointing its external spikes at Chinchou and blasting a barrage of sharp needles through the air.
“Watch out!” the man yelled.
“Medicham!” Milo shouted, sensing danger. With a flick of her hands, Medicham caused the onslaught of spikes to stop in mid-air, before using her other hand to move them in a cluster, pegging them into the ground, forming a ‘M’ in the sandy earth.
“Well done Missy!” the man said happily. “Sorry about the spike cannon - Cloyster can get temperamental!”
“That’s fine,” Mia said sweetly, walking over. “May I have the Macho Brace?”
“Yes you may,” said the man, handing it over. Milo watched unhappily as Mia collected the item and stashed it into her large tote bag, smiling at the man and winking at Cloyster.
“Impressed?” she asked Milo, as they walked on through the port.
“I am, sort of,” Milo muttered. Mia recalled Chinchou. Medicham looked embarrassed. Milo wanted to explore the rest of the Port, but was also aware he needed to sign up to the contest as soon as possible. He explained this to Andrew, who was going to wait with Mia for her taxi to the airport, while Milo opted to walk into the town.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” Milo said.
“Take care Milo,” Andrew replied, shaking his hand. “I’ll be here to pick you up in a few days.”
“Thanks,” Milo replied. He turned to Mia. “Good luck in Goldenrod.”
She smiled wryly.
“Good luck in Olivine,” she said. Milo tried going in for a hug as Mia attempted to shake his hand; the two awkwardly collided and quickly retreated - Mitchelson’s were not renowned for their emotional availability. Andrew looked slightly amused as the siblings parted; Milo took his suitcase and left the Port and on to the short walk leading to Olivine.
“Ok. Emotional Backage - gone,” Milo said, making a pretend list as he walked up the dusty track. Medicham said nothing - she was the silent type, but easily the best member of Milo’s team. The weather was beautiful today, and a t-shirt was all that was needed in the heat. Milo had a pair of cargo shorts on and some old trainers, and after a few minutes of walking along the quiet, slightly bumpy path, decided he would introduce Medicham to his temporary team member.
“Ruby!” Milo said, opening the Pokeball. In a flash, Arcanine emerged; she stood almost level with Milo’s shoulders, her fur wild but glossy and well conditioned. Big pointed teeth glimmering and as white as marble, her dark eyes glistened with warmth as she nudged her new trainer affectionately.
“Ruby, Medicham, you guys have already met,” Milo stated, as the two shared the same house for some time. “But you’re team-mates for a while, so I thought it would be good for you to socialise a bit.”
Medicham gave a nod. Ruby nodded. The two shared an awkward moment, where Milo stood between them wondering how they could get on. A psychic karate monkey and a prima-donna hound. Probably not a lot of common ground there.
“Right,” he said briskly. “Err you are now acquainted. Both of you return to your balls.”
Getting the two Pokeballs out, Milo pointed them at his two and recalled them into their confinements. It only felt right to return them both; Ruby might feel offended that she was recalled while Medicham was not. Milo had run into diplomatic problems with his Pokemon before, recalling his Exeggutor and Rhydon’s tense relationship.
As it was a nice day, throughout his walk Milo ran into a couple of people on their way to the Port. He saw a few Zigzagoon scurrying along the path too - they were picking up berries and twigs before scurrying back to their homes. Birds flew in the sky, notably Wingull, but as Milo observed the wild Pokemon, he was thinking of Pokemon he could catch for his new team. It felt odd thinking of what types to catch when he had excellent type coverage from his League team - it was like having an affair. What would Electabuzz think about him catching a new electric type? Or Kingler and a new water Pokemon?
Not shortly after this strange thought, Milo arrived in Olivine City Centre. It was an active, jovial place, with sunshine beaming from the smiles of the locals. Like the Port, there were a few stalls and market places, as well as a Battle Tower right in the middle of the town. It rose above the white houses, casting shadows upon the immediately neighbouring buildings. Milo eyed the tower keenly, before remembering his team was not quite equipped for battling up seven floors of increasingly difficult trainers. He walked through the town, shortly arriving at the building, which was roughly the size of a Pokemon Gym. It was rectangular with a large banner across the front - ‘OLIVINE CONTEST - 2 DAYS TIME’.
Inside, Milo found the reception. There was an area like a Pokemon Center next to the registration desk. People sat on soft, squishy chairs in the lobby area as footage on a plasma screen showed the latest Olivine Contest. Looking up, Milo saw that it was the contest his sister had just won a few weeks back, and watched some of the footage of his sister’s Togetic unleashing a blistering wind down towards the enemy Bellossom.
“Hello!” came a sudden cry. Milo leapt out his skin as a perky-looking woman stood calmly at the desk. She looked to be the same age as Meredith.
“Hi.” Milo murmured.
“You‘d be here to register, I assume?” she said in an increasingly-fast voice. “I mean…everyone’s doing it. I even had to miss my lunch break. Made a sandwich at home, but it’ll be no good now - cream cheese will soak into the bread.”
“Yea, I want to register for the Olivine Contest,” Milo said. The woman unscrewed a bottle of pills and emptied a handful into her mouth.
“Very well! Is this your first contest?” she asked. Her eyes were huge, round and made her look like an insomniac owl.
“It is, yea,” Milo said, before a set of forms were smacked down on the table.
“If you could sign all of these please,” she said. She sounded energetic…yet oddly exhausted. “It’s a lot to do, but very important. If you haven’t a pen I can lend you one - although it is blue ink, which isn’t permitted. I’ll see if Barbera has a pen.”
“Ok…” Milo muttered, as the lady skirted around the office. He pulled out a pen of his own and began to write.
Never before had Milo filled out such a bunch of random forms. Initially asking for name, date of birth, and common questions such as hometown, he began coming to more obscure and irrelevant ones. He was asked for his blood type, left-or-right-handedness, hair length and even abstract ideas like his ‘definition of love’, Milo called into question numerous times just how important these questions were for him to enter contests. All the while ‘Sheila’, as the lady’s badge proclaimed, was standing rigidly, smiling as her neck twitched. She was whispering to herself.
About three quarters of an hour later, his hand aching with numbness and his mind fuzzy with boredom, Milo got onto the final page of the application form and used his left hand to knead the muscles in his right, easing the pain.
Eventually, the second-to-last question ‘What Question Would You Most Like To Be Asked’, and the last question ‘What Is The Answer To The Question You Would Most Like To Be Asked?’ were complete, and Milo slammed the pen onto the counter as he gathered all of his papers and stacked them neatly together.
“That,” he said rudely. “Was the biggest waste of time ever.”
“Thank you!” beamed the lady, knocking back more energy pills.
“Why did you need to know what I ate for breakfast?” Milo asked.
“Oh! Haha, you noticed,” cried the lady. “Well you know forms. So vague. I never liked breakfast. Lunch didn’t agree with me either. I do like food in the evenings mind.”
“Is there anything else?” Milo asked as Sheila took the papers away.
“I’m a snacker,” she admitted. “My husband, Sheldon, calls me a grazer! Like a cow. We do laugh. You have to, really, in this economic crisis.”
“Crisis?” Milo asked.
“The recession!” she cried. “Credit crunch! Jobs going, banks collapsing. Janice from Admin was laid off last week. Couldn’t afford to keep her! It is sad.”
“Credit crunch?” Milo asked. “Sounds like a breakfast cereal.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t heard it,” Sheila said, awe-struck. “Next you’ll tell me you’ve never heard a song by Kenny Loggins!”
“…who?” Milo said.
“Well now I know you’re lying,” she scoffed. Milo opened his wallet and brought out a silver card.
“This,” he said. “Gets me anything I want.”
It was a credit card his parents gave him at eighteen. It contained a vast fortune that both Milo and his sister were able to access with no questions ask. Sheila raised her eyebrows and let out a throaty gulp.
“Anyway, we need to take a quick picture for your Contest Pass - CLICK! Sorry, I didn’t give you any warning. But you look lovely. Not too lovely, because boy’s don’t look lovely, they look handsome. So you look handsome! Here is your laminated Contest Pass, allowing you to enter any of the contests mentioned in this booklet.”
The lady handed Milo a chunky booklet with official contest rules. Milo took it, as well as various pamphlets for new coordinators, and a keychain, which he doubted he would ever use. Slipping the contest pass into his wallet, he towed his suitcase out of the hall and went to check into the Hotel he would be staying in for the week.
The city was not massive, but was filled with things to see and do. It had a very neighbourly atmosphere, unlike the particularly stuck up Blackthorn City. Along the way, loud voices rang out across the town and Milo looked to see a woman yelling at a man who was on a phone. The woman looked high maintenance, reminding Milo of his sister, eyeing the man with disgust. Her captivating, blonde hair sat in thick, bounteous curls.
“Thees ees not good enough!” she cried in a French accent.
“I’m sorry Miss Gourmante,” the man replied shakily.
“I ought to teech you a lezzun!” she bellowed, gripping a Pokeball with two hands, holding it forward like a powerful weapon.
“Is everything ok here?” Milo asked, looking for a window to intervene. The woman sniffed, barely looking at Milo.
“Everyting izz fine, thank you,” she said. “My manager wuzz seemply telling me he has not got me booked into the Imperial Hotel in Olivine! Azz eef I would go anywhere else?”
“I’ve got a room there,” Milo noted.
“You see! Thees boy has got a room but I cannot? I am Gina Gourmante!”
“I’m trying to get it sorted, Gina,” the man sobbed.
“You can come into my room,” Milo said, smirking. Gina frowned.
“Excuse me??”
“I said, you can share my bed with me,” he told her. “I won’t mind…”
She whacked Milo with her large, lumpy bag.
“’Ow dare you! Dirty weasel!”
“Fine, fine,” Milo stammered, dodging another swing. He turned to the man, who was on the phone.
“Buddy you’d better be getting a good pay check,” he muttered, heading to the hotel.
*
Luckily Milo’s faith in his mother had paid off; Meredith booked him a fantastic suite at the most luxurious hotel in town. The room was spacious, with a large double bed and a computer with a lavish desk. When exploring the bathroom, Milo found a large round bath sunken into the floor, big enough for two, and a pyramid of fresh, flurry towels by the sink. After changing into a deep blue polo shirt, and sliding his flip-flops on, Milo went back into the heart of Olivine to do some training.
Meredith had explained that Ruby had a few appeals at her disposal; techniques, tricks and showcases she had used in previous contests, so Milo was inclined to stick with one of those until he could construct one of his own.
In the end, Milo arrived at a quiet spot just outside the city. He released Medicham and Arcanine, watching as the two Pokemon materialised from the duel bursts of light. Arcanine nodded at Medicham, who looked sourly back.
“Ok Ruby,” Milo said. “I want you to try your Chariots of Fire appeal. Can you do that for me?”
With a gruff nod, Arcanine ran gracefully along the plains. Her speed accelerated in seconds, until a silvery blaze tore behind her. This was her extreme-speed. Ruby sped along the plans and, as if on cue, began spouting flames from her jaws. Due to her speed, the flames split as they left her mouth and trailed behind her like banners, creating streaks of fire that cloaked the huge canine. Turning sharply to the left, Ruby kept on going, looking more like a sports car as her blurred form burned brightly. Suddenly, she released a swift attack; the golden stars span wildly before trailing behind Arcanine and skidding along the fiery trails. Now, Ruby was a blazing streak, with golden stars searing in her wake. She leapt high into the air, performed a somersault, which gathered the flame into a large ball, and launched the fireball into the earth, where it flumped upon impact, and dancing embers leapt across the earth.
“Holy christ!” Milo gasped, as Ruby landed delicately among the embers. “That was amazing!”
Arcanine did the closest thing to a coy smile, looking bashful at the remark. Milo was amazed his mother was even able to come up with something so clever, so complex…Medicham also made a great deal of effort to mask how impressed she was.
“Cool Arcanine,” came a voice. Milo turned to see a burly looking man watching Milo. He had a Tauros at his side, wearing a suede jacket with a fluffy collar. He had a shaved head.
“Nice cow,” Milo replied back.
“Oh, well th- this isn’t a cow you ignorant bastard!” the man yelled. “This is a Tauros. Bloody hard to catch, bloody hard to train.”
“Where did you catch it?” Milo enquired.
“North of Olivine,” he said. “Took me months to find one.”
“You sound like you have a lot of free time,” Milo muttered.
“My wife even left me…” the man whispered to himself.
“I’m not surprised, you’re boring me already,” Milo said rudely. He chuckled at his remark, angering the man.
“Let’s fight then you rude little prick,” the man snapped, pointing at the space between the two of them. “Tauros!”
“Medicham,” Milo said, but the opponent spoke up.
“No, no, I want to battle your Arcanine,” he said. Milo shrugged, asking Medicham to step back as Arcanine walked forward. “Good! Tauros, go for a take down!”
Tauros tucked its head in and sped along the plains. Milo watched this and planned an evasive response. It was going very fast.
“Extreme speed!”
Nodding, Arcanine accelerated into the sky, leaping up with a boosted jump. Tauros turned sharply to avoid colliding, staggering slightly. The man growled ferociously as he ordered another attack, Arcanine burst into flame, spinning wildly and shooting down like a meteor. Tackling into the brown Pokemon from above, Arcanine then unleashed a flamethrower to plough into Tauros and hurtle him across the arena.
Milo nodded, pleased.
“Headbutt!” bellowed the man, his Tauros moaning in agony. The beast tucked his head down and charged again, but Arcanine leapt out of the way and blasted a stream of fire to Tauros’ side. Struck, Tauros was thrown sideways, its fine fur scorched.
“Arcanine, go for a fire spin,” Milo said, as his Pokemon unleashed a spiralling vortex of twisting fire. It snaked along the plains, pulling in weeds and debris, keeping a nervous Tauros at bay. The opponent saw this and pulled a disgusting face.
“Pursuit!” he said. Tauros, after a brief moment staring intently at the swirling fire, leapt around the vortex, speeding along towards Arcanine. Arcanine leapt to avoid the attack, but as she did so, Tauros’ horns glowed brightly and the beast leapt after, tackling Arcanine and hurtling her to the ground. She let out a long, saddened cry as her limp body rolled along the dusty earth. Milo could see blood drawn from two puncture wounds. Tauros landed and used his hooves to stomp hard onto Arcanine’s chest; the dog roared in agony and in retaliation spewed molten flames from her jaws.
Narrowly avoiding the attack, Tauros leapt to the side and pawed the ground, ready to charge. Arcanine stood up, looking surprisingly delicate, but spat up a blistering fireball at Tauros, who was struck just as he began to charge. Staggering back, Tauros lost his footing, and Milo knew now was the time to go in for the win.
“Iron tail!”
Leaping up, Arcanine let her tail shimmer with metallic sheen and whipped it around, smashing Tauros in the jaw and knocking him out. Landing gracefully on her feet, Arcanine nodded to Milo, as the trainer yelled profanities at his fallen Pokemon.
“TAUROS!” he cried.
“Too easy,” Milo said, flicking his hand casually. “Do you realise how much potential Tauros have as Pokemon? That thing was just a dodgem car, charging all over the place.”
“We roughed up your doggy good and proper,” the man said grimly, recalling his Tauros.
“But you didn’t knock her out,” Milo sniped. “All talk. Pathetic.”
And with that, he recalled Ruby and made his way back to the city.
*
“RUBY!”
Milo sat awkwardly at a video phone, Medicham and Arcanine by his side. Meredith was on the other end, looked horrified.
“WHAT HAPPENED?”
“What do you mean?” Milo asked quizzically. Arcanine’s fur was a little bit dirty, and she looked a bit scratched…but she had been in a battle. Milo wasn’t quite sure what was distressing his mother.
“SHE’S A MESS! MY BEAUTIFUL RUBY!”
Ruby looked ashamed. Milo raised an eyebrow.
“Milo, why did you battle with her? She’s my star appeal Pokemon!” Meredith cried.
“What do you mean why did I battle? You lent her to me!” Milo snapped.
“So you could use her for appealing,” Meredith said. “And JUST appealing! Not battling…you have Medicham for that…”
“How is she going to get stronger?” Milo asked.
“She IS strong,” Meredith said. “Milo, I lent her to you as an appeal Pokemon. In contests, your Pokemon are judged on their appearance, their looks, their style…Ruby needs to be at her best. Her fur needs to be nourished and bouncy, her teeth need to sparkle, and she can’t be bleeding and scabbed!”
“Ok, I’m sorry!” Milo said, noticing the wounds from Tauros charging at the hound.
“The idea is, that when you get new Pokemon, you’ll have Pokemon used solely for battles and some for appeals. In some cases you can cross this boundary, but certainly not with a Pokemon like Arcanine,” Meredith explained. Milo gave a heaving sigh. “Go into town and find a Salon called Noize. It’s where I always go when I’m in Olivine to get my Pokemon groomed.”
“Ok,” Milo said.
“They’ll make Ruby look gorgeous. Say hi to Paulo for me!” Meredith cooed, before hanging the phone up. Milo sighed.
“Sorry Ruby,” he said to the dog. She looked slightly cross with him, but Medicham simply shrugged, failing to see the problem. After recalling Arcanine, Milo walked through the city, passing the Battle Tower again and aching to pick up his League team and take on the trainers.
“…but no, let’s go to a sodding salon,” Milo grumbled, looking to Medicham for support. She seemed nonplussed.
On the way, they passed the Olivine Gym. It was an interesting, square building two storeys high. It looked no different from when Milo was here in his league year, flirting with Jasmine as he pummelled her big brash steel Pokemon.
“Those were the days, huh,” he muttered. “Remember Jasmine’s Steelix? Went down like a sock puppet.”
Medicham ignored this; in the match in question, she was benched in favour of Milo’s Rhydon, and had never been particularly happy about it. Milo wondered if Jasmine was still running the Gym and if not, what she was doing with herself.
Soon they came to the salon Meredith reccomended; it was large, with big glass windows at the front and the word ‘Noize’ splashed across the top in elaborate letters. Milo pushed the door open.
It was glitzy and garish inside; there was a large relaxing area with seats and magazines for people to read. Doors led off to rooms beyond this, the antechamber. A reception desk had an irritated boy behind it. He had shaggy blonde hair and flicked through a book of appointments.
“Hey,” Milo said, walking over. “I’ve brought my Arcanine to be groomed. I’m competing in the Olivine Contest.”
“Okay,” the boy replied. He looked about eighteen. A fruity-looking man waltzed out of one of the rooms, shutting the door carefully. He had a goatee beard and wore glitzy, plum denim jeans and a bright t-shirt, sashaying his hips as he walked.
“OH what a horrendous Persian that woman has. Horrible! Did you go out and buy my salad?”
“Not yet,” the boy named Jake muttered back.
“Jake it is time for lunch, and I need a three-bean salad to keep me going for the rest of the day! Oh my life is tiresome,” moaned the man. He paused, noticing Milo was here, taking him in.
“And what can I do for you?” he asked, giving a sickly smirk.
“I was wondering if…erm, Paulo, could groom my Arcanine,” Milo said. This man must be Paulo, for he recoiled in disgust.
“I am far too busy for that,” he explained. “I am just uuber busy right now. Jake, why did you tell the client he could see me?”
“I didn’t,” Jake stressed. “I was about to check your schedule when you came over.”
“You can’t fit me in at all?” Milo asked, puzzled. “My Mom said you’d be able to tend to Ruby before I competed…”
“Ruby?” Paulo asked, bewildered. “Are you by any chance Meredith’s son?”
“Milo,” he replied casually. Paulo looked gob smacked.
“I had no idea you were a coordinator!” he cried.
“Oh yea,” Milo reaffirmed. “Big time.”
“Well you certainly got the good looks from your parents, am I right Jake?” Paulo said.
“I dunno,” Jake muttered. “I spose.”
“Thanks for that Jake,” Milo said emptily.
“Meredith is a BEAUTY, I always said she could be a model,” Paulo boasted. “And I met your father once, too. Like a Greek god he was.”
“If he knew you said that he’d probably buy out your salon and then shut it down,” Milo said, noting his father’s intense dislike for sugar-coated compliments.
“Charming,” Paulo said. “But we’ll have to fit darling Ruby in today...we just have to! Jake, cancel the Teddiursa that’s due in now - scheduling conflicts. What needs done to the cutie?”
“I battled with her…and she looks a bit tatty,” Milo said quietly, feeling a bit ashamed. He released the Pokemon, who sparkled as she burst from the ball. Paulo gave a gasp of joy and even the receptionist, Jake, looked intrigued. Paulo clicked his tongue as he examined Ruby.
“Yes, yes, we’ll recondition the roots and nourish the fur,” Paulo murmured. “Polish the fangs…oh this is all routine, it won’t take long.”
“Thanks,” Milo replied.
“Meredith always comes in to say hello when she is in the area,” Paulo said proudly. “And of course, it is a delight to work on her team of beautiful Pokemon!”
Milo laughed nervously. Paulo swanned off to one of the rooms, where he was going to make Ruby look fantastic again. Milo took a seat as Jake got up and rang the lady who was expecting her Teddiursa to get groomed.
On the table, Milo scanned the magazine covers, trying to find something to read. There were glossy and clearly marketed towards girls - ‘this season’s latest trends’, ‘French Film star in Sex Scandal’ and ‘New: Six Fruits That Kill’. Uninterested, Milo waited until Jake was off the phone before speaking.
“Yes, yes I know my parents did a bad job raising me,” Jake moaned to the lady on the phone. “But we can fit Teddy in tomorrow morning…that’s all we have. I said I’m sorry! Ok. Bye.”
He let out a long sigh. Milo cleared his throat.
“Tough day?”
“Paulo’s just difficult to work with,” Jake explained.
“Are you the Mecretary?” Milo asked, receiving a frown.
“The what?”
“Man-secretary,” Milo replied.
“No, I work the desk, but I’m a trainee stylist,” answered Jake.
“So Paulo is helping you learn the trade by being shutting out of his style room?” Milo asked. Jake looked embarrassed, which made Milo laugh. “Anyway, have you got any good magazines? Like Zoo, FHM, GQ…”
“Er…we don’t have those magazines, no,” muttered Jake.
“What do you read?” Milo asked. He paused for a minute.
“I read that stuff,” Jake said, pointing to the table. “Attitude, Outcast…”
“Really?” Milo asked. “But those are…Oh.”
“Yea,” Jake said.
“…you’re -”
“ - yea.”
“So you don’t -”
“- no…I’m homos-”
“-right, right,” Milo stammered, his eyes quickly scanning ‘Good Housekeeping’. He should have expected it, really, with the career choice, and the whole salon thing, but nevertheless, Milo felt slightly uncomfortable. The next few moments passed in thick silence, Milo feeling like something of an obnoxious idiot, until he looked up to see Jake smirking.
“So,” Jake said eventually. “You’re coordinating.”
“Yea,” Milo said, latching onto the conversation quickly. “Only just started actually.”
“Olivine’s contest is a nice one,” Jake said. “I watched the last one, which your sister Mia won.”
“Oh yea,” Milo said.
“She’s very talented,” Jake said. “Did some pretty amazing stuff.”
“I heard,” Milo replied. “Do you coordinate?”
“Not really,” Jake replied. “I watch though. I’ve heard there’s a big one in Goldenrod.”
Milo continued to make small talk with Jake while Ruby was being groomed. Milo was feeling quite confident about the upcoming contest, as Ruby’s appeal was amazing and Medicham was a good battler. Milo wondered how Chuck was, and more so, if Mia was in Goldenrod yet.
Across the road, a woman sat on a bench. A Magnemite was buzzing by the door of the salon, and it seemed to be transmitting something to the woman’s phone. She gave an ugly smirk as she looked at her screen, only stopping when Milo’s eyes barely scanned her location. Delving into her bag, she slipped on a pair of big sunglasses to cover her hazel eyes.
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