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Route 4 - Parterre Way

'Well I never lost a match to someone with eight badges, so I guess they don't mean a god damn thing,' Zack frowned, watching Mia go through her bag.

In truth, he wouldn't mind taking some gym leaders down a notch, especially when everyone talked up how good they were. But when you beat gym leaders, you gained badges, and when you had badges, you received attention. Zack knew that he was good enough to become famous. Hell, he knew which way to throw a pokéball, which already put him above half the scrubs he'd seen interviewed on TV. Legions of adoring fans might sound good at first, but they'd soon become legions of annoying hanger-ons. He'd never be able to get rid of them unless he quit training for good. It just wasn't worth the hassle.

'She's training,' Zack said, looking away as Mia rifled through her skirt. Kalosian sunshine made his face sting. 'I'm just here to make sure she doesn't suck at it. And yeah. Malis!'

The Charmander didn't respond. He was too busy holding a Budew by the sprout and punching the happy out of it. It had long stopped squealing, now all it did was twitch. Zack shrugged at Mia. 'He's a malicious little b*****d. Charmander!'

That got his attention. Malis dropped the Budew to the dirt and muttered something to it, smiling. Then he leapt over the top of the flower field in a large arc, jumping an easy five times his height before landing on the main pathway. He ran the rest. Zack was impressed; he'd expected it to take longer before Malis was capable of that kind of feat. He must be a better trainer than he thought. The pokémon was dirty, his scales scuffed and rubbed off in places, but already replacements poked through his skin. He didn't seem to be too tired, still buzzing from exercise. It'd catch up with him later, but for now he looked about ready for anything Route 4 had for him.

'Your name's Malis now,' Zack said. The Charmander winced, then sighed, shaking his head and saying something in pokémonese. Zack didn't catch the words but he recognised the tone; it was one he adopted from time to time. 'Hey ******** you, it's a good name.' He gestured to Mia. 'Give her some fire.'

Malis complied, albeit reluctantly, dragging his body around in a spin to unleash Ember from the fire on his tail. Just as he'd done with the Combee, he spat flames into the air, but kept them clustered together in a single tight ball the size of a fist. It drifted up to Mia, then slowed to a halt arm's length away.

Route 4 - Parterre Way

'Still sounds like you're asking me to go,' Zack cracked a grin, kicking off the fountain. Clauncher woke up for a second, bubbled froth from his mouth, then went back to sleep, sizzling quietly in the sun. Malis eyed the water type suspiciously, then sat on the fountain wall. His tail hung over the rippling surface, reflecting bright like a second sun.

'But,' Zack said, turning around. 'You'll find drunk teenagers are more or less the same world over. Real question is what's a smart girl like you wasting her time for?'

Route 4 - Parterre Way

“Yeah. You’re invited now.”

Palms pressed against the fountain’s rim, Mia leaned back. Smoke trailed lazily off the tip of the spliff, dispersing into the air. “And that’s a good question.”

She stared into the distance, past the wild Pokémon and short trimmed hedge mazes like the answer to Zack’s question was in her sight. “Because it's fun. It didn’t used to be a waste of time.” For a second it looked like she was seriously pondering the nature of her partying habit, before the tiniest of grins broke loose on the corner of her mouth. "Bon dieu. This party girl is growing up. I'm still throwing this party, though."

Mia stood up, dusting off her skirt. "I like meeting new people. The interesting ones break the tedium that is my Lumiose life...Last time we had a party, a silver haired boy landed with his Skarmory and helped spray paint a flying Torkoal. Good times." She took another hit from her spliff, and pointed it at Zack.

"Did you see the news about Route 9 on the west coast? In Ambrette Town?"

Cyllage City Gym - The Arena

The scientific classification of the accuracy stat was often debated amongst Pokémon researchers due to its broadness. Different moves were considered accurate or inaccurate for different reasons. For example, Thunder was “inaccurate” not because it was difficult to aim, but because the act of gathering that much electricity in one spot before firing it took enough time that opposing Pokémon had a higher chance of evading the attack. In the rain, where electrons gathered high in the clouds, Thunder could be fired off immediately, remedying the problem.

Grasswhistle fell under a similar kind of accuracy problem. By their nature, the soundwaves emanating from Essence couldn’t be dodged, unless Tyrunt was far enough not to hear them. The reason Grasswhistle was inaccurate was because the time it took to finish the tune that put foes to sleep gave them ample time to counterattack.

Such was the case right now. “Attack!”

Tyrunt crouched low and jumped up from his powerful haunches, taking a diving leap at Essence with Fire Fangs wide open. Essence would not have time to finish the song unless she allowed Tyrunt to chomp on her. Only then would the Royal Heir Pokémon be asleep, with Essence caught in his closed, flaming jaws.

"Forward! Seed!" It wasn't that it was impossible to expect her to continue the whistle while dodging. It was possible, but it would mean moving more slowly. The diving leap was passed under with a forward roll, and as she came up, Essence would twist to fire the next wave of worry seeds.

She would jump as the seeds fired at the tyrunt, to make a little more distance in case the tyrunt planned for her to stop and would make a move from there.

[Where are you going, cowards?!] Pancham shouted at the fleeing panchams. They were running toward safety - away from the rampaging monster. Pancham turned toward the dinosaur that was slaughtering his tribe. He narrowed his eyes at it, the form of the creature a sillhouette in the distance, and charged at it.

When he arrived, it was to a scene that looked like the hunting and feeding times of his tribe. Blood and gore everywhere. Pancham didn't flinch, he didn't throw up, start shaking or run away. Every joint in his body, every muscle and tendon had instead frozen. He stared at the scene with a fear that paralzed him completely. He didn't even realize that he'd stopped breathing, not until he became aware of how alone he was in the open field - not until Tyrant's eyes fell upon him.

Pancham involuntarily sucked in air and he felt the rest of his body hand control back over to him. Stiff, but capable, Pancham watched the monster chew on the arm of one of his tribesmen.

[Okay, big guy, let's do this.] There was no confidence in his voice. It wavered and broke, making Pancham aware of how dry his throat had become, of how his lips and teeth quivered and chattered.

His legs felt warm and wet, but he curled his fingers into fists that the pre-evolved Pokemon only realized were tiny when he stood before such a monster.

Tyrantrum just continued to chew on Pancham's tribesmen, on the proud Pangoro that had become the beasts food.

[I said let's do this!] His vision blurred as the tears formed and obscured it. Pancham was aware that he was shouting at himself as much as he was the beast. This time it wasn't his brain preventing his body from moving, but his own self. He couldn't bring himself to charge toward death.

Not until Tyrantrum dropped the arm, stripped down to the scarlet dyed bones, and switched his attention. It wasn't bravery that had him moving, but a stronger fear. Too afraid to sit there like a Sawsbuck in the headlights, he wouldn't let himself die so easily.

[Let's see how you like the true Parting Shot!] It was the technique of his father's. Everyone else knew the technique by a different form. Words, tearing the opponent's strength down and causing cowards to flee.

Pancham had learned the true form from his father, an invincible technique capable of dropping even the strongest of opponents to the floor. All one had to do was evoke it, and use the right combination of double blows against the opponent.

Pancham launched himself upward, getting over Tyrantrum's head.

[Kneel, you beast!] Pancham evoked the coolest sentence he could think of in the moment, and brought down the ten fists of a double Arm Thrust.

Tyrantrum didn't even flinch. He just lifted his head up and opened his giant maw for Pancham to fall in.

The darkness of that pit sucked all of the hope away from Pancham. He wasn't just aware of every detail of those fangs, the beasts tongue or whatever that was at the back of his mouth before the endless darkness - Pancham was aware of his nauseating smell of it, of the terrible warmth of the creature's breath.

[Father!] Pancham cried, and just like that the Tyrantrum was thrust aside.

The beast rolled as it hit the ground, twisting, righting itself and turning to face them. Pancham's father, Pangoro, caught him with his one arm. He set the boy down and turned toward the monster.

[My son, don't worry. I'll take care of this monster,] Pangoro said.

But Pancham knew the truth. Even thought he wanted to believe in the hope of his father rescuing him, he was aware of their slaughtered brethren. All of the men in their tribe couldn't stop this beast. His father was a fierce fighter, but with one arm there was no way he could win, much less evoke the true parting shot.

Pancham stared at his father's back as the Pangoro stepped between him and the Tyrantrum, and he knew that he was staring at the shadow of his father's former self.

[My boy told you,] Pangoro said as he pushed himself forward on his feet, breaking out into a sprint, [kneel and perish in your inferiority.]

As the two met there was a sickening crunch. Pangoro had ran in an arc to see the confrontation from the side. It had immediately halted the two fighters. Pancham saw his father's arm, fist slammed into Tyrantrum's torso. He saw the beast's chest split, a spiderweb of cracks and breaks forming a wound that covered the entirety of its chest. The blood seeped from the stone-like-flesh. Tyrantrum fell, and that's when Pancham saw it.

As Tyrantrum fell, he took a chunk from Pancham's father, having bitten into the armless side of Pangoro's body. Pancham knew immediately that the wound was fatal. Tyrantrum fell one way, and Pangoro the other.

Pancham arrived at his father, and could taste the blood as he looked down at him, and knew the horror of the wound. The beast had tore a chunk from Pangoro's torso, leaving a giant maw sized chunk. The boy saw the life fade from his fathers eyes, and knew they didn't have long.

[Father!] Pancham shouted. He shook the pangoro, the giant of a man. There was no response. [Father, please!] Pancham cried openly now as he continued to shake his father. It took him a few seconds to realize that, not only had the wound been fatal, it had been immediately so.

[No, please!] Pancham cried. He fell to his knees and buried his face into his father's side. Pancham felt the blood wet his face and arms. He didn't care, though. Nothing mattered, not anymore. The one thing Pancham had truly cared about was his father.

It was why he stayed, why the boy never left the tribe. Respect, admiration, love. The source of all of that was as lifeless as Pancham's hope - his dreams and desires.

The rumbling caught his attention next. It felt louder than his own dread, which had muted or muffled every other sensation until now. Pancham turned to see Tyrantrum, standing above him and the corpse of his father. The beast bled, but did not fall.

[Why?] Pancham cried. It was too unfair. His tribe, his father - all sacrificed to do what? They had barely managed to slow the beast down. Every effort was futile and Pancham's head drooped to accept his fate. His strength had died, truly and completely, with his father.

Pancham only lifted his head at the bright light that suddenly enveloped the Tyrantrum. He watched the beast disappear and looked down to see the ball that he had disappeared into. Pancham watched the ball shake once, twice, thrice - and then it was still.

"Thank goodness!" shouted a voice so foreign to Pancham that it almost surprised him more than the creature's appearance.

Red and white, with brown fur that came from her head and ran down her back. The red flesh seemed to sway with every motion, and almost seemed to hang over the white flesh.

Pancham watched the strange creature, with its stranger articulations, pick up the ball that Pancham knew contained the monster that had killed everyone he had ever loved and cared about.

"I thought I was never going to capture him," the creature said. "Now I just have to tame him, and then he'll be a part of my team." Pancham understood every word, but he wasn't sure how. This creature spoke like none he had ever encountered before.

All of her sentences, by themselves, meant nothing to Pancham. Altogether, though, he felt their connected meaning. This creature was that monster's mistress.

She was responsible for so much death and Pancham felt the warmth of anger seed itself into his heart. The strange creature dashed off into the woods, and Pancham remained still. He knew she wouldn't be easy to kill. It was an intuitive sense in Pancham's gut that he felt he could rely on.

So Pancham decided to play the long game. The pain and sorrow he felt all began to change as the boy took his father's leaf and stem - his own lost to the bullies of his tribe - and bit the end so it stayed in his mouth.

It didn't matter that it was too long for him, that it looked silly and felt sillier. Everything Pancham felt transmuted itself into anger - calm and powerful anger.

[I'll avenge you, father,] Pancham said softly. He turned to what remained of the corpses of his tribes men and included, [I'll avenge you all.]

With that, Pancham dashed off, to track the witch who controlled the beast - and to eventually take both of their lives.

((Nice save, Shanks- uh, Papagoro ninja

And holy s**t, Jump evolved!))

Route 4 - Parterre Way

Zack blew out through his cheeks, looking across the fields of Route 4. The horde of trainers had thinned out since the first days of the league. The endless crowds had thinned; their chattering, smiling faces now a faded memory. He scanned the horizon, picking out a few dark shapes training in the fields, the odd battle, all spaced wide apart, almost ignoring each other. It was more than just the usual trainer drop off. In the past, remaining trainers at least retained some levity, and most stuck around longer than this. There was a hint of it in Lumiose City, but standing out here on the Route, with the sun baring down, it was hard to ignore a solemn weight in the air.

And it definitely didn't help that Mia was throwing so many questions at him. Zack wasn't sure what he expected when a pretty girl approached him out of the blue, but it wasn't this.

'It's what I'm good at,' Zack said at last. He wasn't one for talking about himself. It always felt awkward. He ran his hand through his hair, not sure why he was even replying. 'Try living without your machines for a while. You'll get it after that.'

Cyllage City Gym - The Arena

Gravity it was. "Take the edge off!" Benedict called, and stun spore went out. She wouldn't dodge, and would be smashed into the arena floor as planned by Tyrunt. At least stomp wasn't as effective as those fire fangs would have been. With luck, stun spore would give her more of an opening.

"Megadrain!" He shouted, and the health-draining ability would go out at point blank range.