This world is inhabited by creatures that we call pokemon. People and pokemon live together by supporting each other, but now the scourge threatens the safety of the entire region. Kohaku has become a dangerous place, where children stay at home and only brave souls go adventuring.
Welcome to KOHAKU. Come for the nightmares. Stay for the tea and crumpets.
The season is SUMMER. It is easy for survivors to forage for food from the land, as there are entire abandoned farms ready for harvest. On the downside, you can smell the corpses.
swarms
GRAND OPENING !
Welcome to KOHAKU REGION's grand opening! If you're interested in joining, come check out our grand opening giveaway!
she figured it was about time to hit the training center; without strong pokemon, there was no way for her to become a strong trainer. (and only the strong ones survived in a world such as theirs.) having released her golden riolu from his pokeball, she affectionally placed her right hand on his head. "let's get started, bael."
delilah had chosen this particular schedule for one reason, and one reason only; the pokemon's main advantage was its smaller size. when facing larger opponents, sheer power wasn't enough -- and so delilah watched as her pokemon leapt over beams and crawled under nets, squeezing through holes and clambering up a tree.
bael navigated the looping course of obstacles until he was panting, on the verge of collapse. delilah smiled.
the woman petted the doglike pokemon. "good job," she acknowledged. "but next time, do it faster." then there was a flash of scarlet light, and the riolu was returned to his pokeball for recovery.
notes ... i know i asked this already, but i forgot if pokemon get happiness from training threads. (no, right?)
she folds her arms across her chest, watching her frantic spheal do his best to dodge the rubber balls flying at him from every which way. "c'mon, andras!" she calls, slapping her right hand against her thigh. "you can move faster than this!" the spheal glances despairingly at his trainer -- she had said they were just going to play a game! -- before getting clocked in the back with one of the balls.
ow. those things pack quite a punch.
delilah sighs, turning off the machine for a brief moment. she goes to her spheal, kneeling in front of him, and gently rubs the pokemon's bruised body. "don't worry -- it's almost over." she smiles. "i know you can do it." andras gives her a skeptical glance, but the confidence in his trainer's eyes makes him pause. (okay. okay, fine.)
the trainer grins at her pokemon's newly determined expression. "great. let's keep going, then." she moves back to the control panel, flipping the switch back on.
this is a very, very bad idea. she watches the budew flop face-first onto the ground, flailing and pouting and clearly uncooperative, with a sigh and a silent swear. the instant sitri had caught a glimpse of the other pokemon, bruises abound, the budew had adamantly refused to take a single step further.
delilah can't blame her.
of course, there's still the problem of needing to train the small, baby, grass-type. (what can delilah possibly do to make sitri want to train?) her eyes scan their surroundings, and her eyes land on a pile of soft, foam balls. "sitri," she begins slowly, "do you want to play with me?"
the budew stops her wailing for a brief moment to turn to her trainer. delilah holds up a ball. "let's play catch." the budew claps her hands together in excitement, and it doesn't take long for the pokemon to figure out the basics of the game -- delilah tosses a ball into the air, sitri catches it and returns it to her.
then delilah slowly starts throwing harder, faster, farther -- and soon enough sitri is running around like a madman, giggling and occasionally tripping flat on her face (and rolling for a few inches before returning to her feet). delilah knows her pokemon is by no means graceful or even coordinated (the small ball ends up landing on sitri more often than not), but she feels rather proud when, after over an hour, her pokemon finally gives up from exhaustion to fall asleep on the ground.
the woman returns the budew to her pokeball, sighing. now she would have to come up with more 'games' for them to play.
with a sigh, the woman reluctantly pulls two pokeballs from her belt. this is honestly something she'd rather not do, but it is about time her gible has her ego popped. (delilah is tired of explaining to people why her gible keeps glaring at them.)
so she releases her combusken first, the smaller dragon pokemon materializing a few moments afterward. paimon snarls 'menacingly' at cimeies, who simply stares unimpressed. the gible charges forward, attempting to tackle the combusken -- all cimeies does is kick her out of the way. tumbling to the side, paimon hisses.
"you can't just charge in, paimon," delilah warns. "she's stronger than you are."
paimon disregards her foolish trainer's words -- how could anything be stronger? -- and once again lunges headfirst at the fire-type, who once again casually swipes the blue pokemon to the side with a large foot. after about ten minutes of a frustrated paimon and a bored cimeies, delilah speaks again. "i told you. don't attack from the front."
the gible glares in frustration at her trainer, but soon takes the advice anyway. paimon dodges behind rocks and bushes, popping in and out in her attempts at landing a hit. she never does, of course -- cimeies is too experienced for that -- but soon both the combusken and gible are panting.
delilah sighs. "good enough for today, i suppose."
this time, she isn't out to bring down her pokemon's confidence -- she's there to raise it. her ralts follows closely behind her, clinging to the leg of her pants, and the woman sighs. she kneels down and nuzzles her pokemon. "you're strong, cara. i know you are." it isn't just the fact that the ralts was adorable -- which it is, the woman won't deny it -- that made her want to take him with her. decarabia has potential, and delilah wants to unlock it (as cliche'd as that phrase is).
she releases her second pokemon, her spheal, and rubs the round pokemon's back. "cara, meet andras -- you'll be fighting him today." her ralts steps back in surprise and terror.
<b-but -- !!>
delilah doesn't listen to his protests. "aurora beam." with a playful clap of his flippers, andras fires off the multicolored beam at the ralts, who cries out in pain. "decarabia, i love you -- i really do! -- but you're going to faint if you don't do something." the psychic pokemon is left speechless, instead shooting his trainer a terrified glance.
she smiles. you can beat andras if you really wanted to. he shakes his head frantically as the spheal prepares another attack. delilah laughs. fine; why not try teleport? decarabia shakes his head again, growing more desperate as the seconds tick away -- and suddenly the pokemon is across the training area, andras' aurora beam firing into empty space.
it's strange to see sitri, delilah muses, without her customary round body. the roselia is elegant when she stands, and even moreso while attacking --
-- but delilah watches the pokemon take a single step and fall flat on her face. she hides a grin behind her hand, watching as the lucario she had just been fighting runs to her aid. "leave her, bael," delilah says. "she can get up on her own."
the lucario shoots the trainer a worried glance, but backs away. sitri struggles to stand, fighting back tears, before sending another wave of bright, multi-colored leaves into the air. they home in on the canine pokemon, who attemps to swat each one out of the air before they slice into his golden fur.
then he rushes the grass pokemon, a fist curled, and delilah smiles proudly.
she's back with her gallade, this time not for confidence or strength but technique -- there are a few things that they need to work out, in any case. delilah grins at decarabia, who nervously looks around at the arena. evolved he may be, but he's still the cowardly ralts she first met.
delilah has him first stick his hand in an ice bath; nothing too cold, but enough for him to know what it is he's getting himself into. then it's punching time -- jab jab jab at the made-to-be-beaten punching bag, and after a few minutes she forces his fist back into the ice.
try to copy that feeling, she tells him. it's not the most effective way, she knows, but delilah has no better ideas. they're at it for hours, the gallade about to give up in frustration and disappointment -- no, you can do it, delilah encourages -- when, finally, the gallade's fist collides with the punching back with the crack of ice forming and breaking.
she leans back on the lawn chair, casually drinking from the bottle in her hand. she watches as her two pokemon spar with each other, blazing flames meeting psionic blasts in a frantic, multicolored flurry. it is clear who has the advantage -- the blaziken is tiring quickly, her reflexes slowing down -- but delilah sees the determination in her eyes.
so when the gallade glances at her after one punch too many, delilah shakes her head. it's not over yet, cara. she lifts her hand to point at the other pokemon, who is struggling back to her feet.
a wave of heat reaches them, and delilah laughs. it's not over yet.