The Great Bulk, Chapter 1: Manage This
No Gains, All Pain
Drifting out of a dreamless sleep, a Makuhita woke up to an alien, unfamiliar environment. The bed he remembered sleeping on was replaced by an endless expanse of sand; the ceiling of his home replaced by a clear sky and the sun, beating down upon him harshly. Not even the familiar, towering architecture of the city he was used to living in was around. Groggily, he gets up to his feet, but he pauses for a few moments. He extends his arms, and stares at them. He waves one of the appendages in front of his face - it was a short, stubby thing with a black, bulbous end, vaguely reminescent of the hands of a Hitmonchan. He inhales deeply.
"HOLY SHIT, WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?", he yelled out, his voice echoing out into the endless expanse of the desert. The bewildered pokemon looked around, seeing a thick blanket of nothingness, dotted with the occasional cacti. He then gazes down to his rotund body, scowling. "Aww, c'mon. I'm fat now? All those gains, flushed down the shitter!" Calming himself down, he gives his surroundings a closer look. He couldn't see much in the way of landmarks, so he wandered off in a random direction, hoping to find something; anything.
He wandered in circles for a couple of days, his thirst becoming more and more unbearable, until finally, weakened and exhausted, he fell on the sands, unable to continue any further. His luck had ran out. He was going to die in this blasted wasteland, dehydrated and alone.
Asana the Sentry
I sat in one of the caravan wagons, deep in meditation. My eyes were closed, but with a sixth sense, I was still able to keep watch for danger. Aura was a gift that, to my knowledge, only a few pokemon knew how to use. Simultaneously, I was both one of the lucky few, and at the same time, misfortunate. I could utilize it, but only in the most passive of ways, sensing for any outlaws or ambushes in our way. In the eyes of a true master, I would be a mere neophyte, but to the packmons I was travelling with, I was invaluable. Numerous times, I had averted catastrophe, and when I could not, I fought.
"Asana, can you feel any trouble?", a loud, deep voice boomed. I looked at the source; the Camerupt pulling my wagon.
"Everything is clear," I replied back, trying to hide the displeasure I felt towards my meditation being interrupted. As soon as I began to focus again, however, I felt a new presence at the edge of my second sight. It was a dull, barely flickering flame; red tinged with colors that were too faint for my novice eye to discern. The texture was hard to make out from the distance it was at, but there was something distinctly off about it. Immediately, my mind ran through the possibilities.
The pokemon who possessed it was alone. The aura's faintness elucidated a detail the more careless would miss - they were dying, or close to death. There was no danger here; at least not to ourselves. "Stop the caravan. There's a dying pokemon in the distance," I barked at Camerupt. After a second of hesitation, he obliged. Hopping out of the wagon, I walked towards the strange presence.
Arriving quickly, I spotted them. There was a Makuhita lying on the desert floor, barely conscious. In the span of seconds, my keen eyes dissected the scene. The more details I absorbed, the more unusual it became. I had seen a few others of his species in Sahra Town, and the texture of their aura was uniform between them. His, however, was completely different. He also had no supplies, yet there were no wounds upon his being; no signs of any struggle. He could not have wound up in the middle of the desert, on his own, without any provisions. The only thing clear to me, was the cause of his ill health.
It was dehydration. One succumbs to it faster than starvation, especially in the middle of the desert. I was doubly certain of this, as his bulk would have allowed him to survive without food for longer than most. In spite of my smaller frame, I picked the unfortunate soul up with ease. As he was too heavy to float with, I walked back to the caravan, loading him onto a wagon. I looked around for the closest possible pokemon, my eyes quickly meeting a Croagunk.
He looked on at the Makuhita with concern, his focus only being broken as I addressed him. "Quit gawking at him. They need water." Nodding, he ran to the only cart that still had its contents - our supply wagon. Once our new passenger had been given some water, I gave a command, and we resumed our march south back to my home town, Oasis.
A few hours later...
Ransacked
A Cacturne and a Lombre stalked the caravan from behind, their worn ponchos and scarred bodies painting a portrait of the criminal careers they held. The latter of the two squints his tired-looking eyes, and saw something that perplexed him. What he assumed to be the guards were gathering toward the rear of the caravan, in a defensive line. Holding an arm out, Lombre stopped his partner in his tracks, craning his neck upwards to look at him.
“I smell something fishy. I don't know how, but they know we are coming. Get ready to fight,” he muttered towards Cacturne, who simply nods in response. Finally approaching the line, Lombre stayed in place, while his partner rushed towards them, full speed ahead. Jumping up into the air, Cacturne leaped towards a Graveller and attacked with a barrage of Needle Arms, downing his bulkier opponent in the blink of an eye. In response, a Hitmonlee turned towards him, attempting to strike him with an extending leg. The prickly outlaw simply weaved out of the way, and socked his opponent between the eyes with yet another Needle Arm. The impact was enough to daze them, but before he had a chance to finish them off, Cacturne felt an agonizing wave of flame wash over him.
As Cacturne began his assault, Lombre hung back, and took a position low to the ground. His normally fatigued, detached gaze gained a modicum of focus, as he pointed a single claw outwards. He lined it up towards a Croagunk, and fired a thin, powerful Water Gun from its end. He hit his target square in the head, knocking him out in a single blow. Scanning the area for more targets, he saw a Growlithe, approaching his partner. He locked on to him, but he was a second too late to prevent an attack, his partner being enveloped in fire. He refused to lose his concentration, instead firing another burst of water at the assailant. Growlithe fell to the desert floor like a sack of bricks, and thankfully, Cacturne was still standing.
Cacturne had little time to recover. Hearing something head towards him, he jumps out of the way – Hitmonlee had regained their bearings, and was now trying to kick him into submission. He fired Pin Missiles towards his opponent's eyes, forcing them to cover them. Capitializing on this opening, he then attacked with a final barrage of Needle Arms, sending his opponent down. Seeing no more foes for the moment, he took a moment and breathed.
If his partner didn't have his back, he might not have made it. Shovelling an Oran Berry into one of his mouth holes, he took a few steps forward, Lombre's warning still echoing through his mind. Hearing someone approach from behind, he turned around, and immediately blocks a punch from a Machoke.
"Did ya really think that'd work, ya moron?", Cacturne sneered. "You're about as stealthy as a Snorlax, ya oa-" Cacturne's eyes widened as he felt something slice his back. He swerved his head and sees a Meditite, sand falling from her hand.
“You are a fool to have come here”, the smaller Pokemon stated. “You bandits are all the same. You're nothing more than parasites.” She suddenly ducked, a blast of water narrowly missing her head. She looked towards the direction it was fired, and then back to the Machoke. “I can feel their accomplice; I will go deal with them,” she said. “Keep him busy.” As soon as she finished barking her orders, she floated off.
“Wait, “feel”?”, Cacturne thought to himself. “No wonder they spotted us, that girl's got some weird trick up her sleeve!” His mind returning to the battle at hand, he shot out Pin Missles towards his opponent's eyes. As expected, Machoke protected them with his hands, but when went in for a follow-up punch, the cactus was lifted off of his feet with a Mega Kick! As Cacturne's body flew back, Machoke followed up with a Cross Chop to the chest, leaving behind two wounds that leaked sand as the outlaw got back up to his feet.
The smile that was nearly always present on Cacturne faded. From the holes that made up his “mouth”, he shot out a barrage of Bullet Seeds, forcing Machoke back. As he recovered, Cacturne withdrew something from his bag, and threw it straight at his foe. The Blast Seed detonated on impact, finally bringing his opponent down. With all of the other guards cleared, Cacturne stared into the distance, attempting to discern how Lombre was holding up. What he saw alarmed him. That Meditite was walking back towards the caravan, carrying his buddy in her arms.
Patiently, he waited for her to arrive. When she did, she sat Lombre down at his feet, and glared upwards at him. “Your partner is defeated, and you are not far behind him. Turn yourself in willingly, or I shall drag you back to Magnezone in Sahra Town myself,” she said with a cold, dispassionate tone. Cacturne took a quick look at her, cackling like a madman into the empty sands around him.
“-You- are gonna drag me across half th'continent, missy? All on your lonesome?”, the outlaw said mockingly. “Do you even know who I am?”
The Meditite narrowed her eyes at him. “You are Cacturne “The Unbreakable”. You're one of the greatest scourges in the North, and with those wounds, I can stop you in your tracks,” she asserted.
Immediately, she went for a Brick Break, which Cacturne simply sidestepped. As she readied for another attack, he sweeped her legs, kicked her up in the air, and unleashed a Sucker Punch straight towards her stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and taking her out instantly. The outlaw loomed over her menacingly. “It takes more than a type advantage t'keep me down,” he said braggingly. “You're one 'a the sorriest excuses for a guard I've seen!”
Taking a Reviver Seed out of his bag, Cacturne stuffed it in Lombre's mouth, the kappa-esque Pokemon slowly getting up to his feet. “I'm sorry I couldn't do more, boss,” he stated, “She was quick on her feet.”
Letting out a sigh, Cacturne looked back at his partner. “Don't beat yourself up. Y'all are still a bit green, figuratively speakin',” he explained, “If it weren't for you shootin' that mutt, that Machoke coulda just clobbered me when I was done fightin' the others. Don't sell yourself short.”
Rubbing his head, Lombre smiled at his partner. “Thanks. Now, let's get the money, and get out,” he stated. The duo made their way towards the front, the numerous Pokemon pulling the carts staring at them in either anger or fear. Those in neither camp dared to act, knowing of Cacturne's reputation and having seen the ease with which the duo defeated half a dozen trained guards.
Approaching the front, they found the Poke they were looking for, in a rather large sack. Cacturne's “smile” grew wider. “Boy, these fellas sure had a lot,” he mused. “Lombre, we're crackin' open the booze stockpile when we get on back, we've earned it!” With that, the two outlaws left, and everyone in the caravan was left with not even a single Poke to their name. It stung for the packmons and guards both not only due to the injuries, but due to the fact that they weren't getting paid. All they could do was dip into their medical supplies, patch up everyone as best as they can, and head back to town.
Two Weeks Later...
Freeloader
It's been two weeks since one of the worst days in my life. Not only did I get beaten in humiliating fashion, but the Pokemon I rescued was naught but a Pelliper around my neck. To start things off, he refused to speak of his origins or how he wound up where I found him, claiming he lost his entire memory in a concussion. He was injured neither when I found him or by the outlaws, and when I pointed this out to him, it was as if my words went in one ear and out the other. He was too busy devouring what food I had to properly respond. His gluttony was ceaseless, and due to it, my savings were running direly low.
I was also tired of the myriad of other minor annoyances that clung onto him – he constantly bumped into and knocked things off of counters, he would raid my berry reserves in the night, he didn't control his volume, he chewed loudly, and he did nothing in his free time but stumble around Oasis, speaking with the other natives. I had enough, and today, I would let him have it.
I summoned him to my dining table, within my one-room house. Once he was seated, I breathed in and steeled myself. “Do you have any idea how much it costs to give you food to stuff down your gullet,” I started, “I've burned through nearly everything I have just to keep your corpulent form the way it is, and you haven't even bothered finding work! Now I have to go on another long slog of a caravan run, and even that won't be enough! You need to either find a job, or you are not welcome in my home!”
Makuhita slammed his fists on the table, staring at me with his perpetually-closed eyes. “You only think I'm a hog, because you keep starving yourself. I'm sorry that I can't be like Miss Anorexia over here, only eating a berry a day – and I have tried to find work. I don't know how to fight, I don't have any skills or knowledge that could be useful in this town, and you'd probably shoot down the only idea I have.”
”Beggars can't be choosers,” I thought to myself, as I formulated a response. After a few moments, I spoke. “One idea, no matter how terrible, is better than zero. Tell me,” I demanded of him.
My portly roommate smiled at me. “It's simple. I join you in your whole caravan thing; how bad can it be? You can get two paychecks in one, and you can teach me how to defend myself as we go along, it'll be perfect!”
Inhaling deeply, I scowled at him. “That is one of the worst, most half-baked ideas I have ever heard. Didn't you say you forgot -everything-, including how to fight?”
He simply nodded. “Yep! That Lombre fellow conked me pretty hard on the noggin,” he beamed, seeming almost prideful in the lie he concocted.
I gritted my teeth. “Now isn't the time for your misdirection. You said yesterday that it was Cacturne who did it, and three days before that, you said you tripped and knocked your head against a stone before I found you!” I slowed my breathing, forcing myself to calm down. “However,” I added, “You do have a point. I suppose I could let you join me, and you could shield me with your corpulent frame.”
As with many of my other insults, Makuhita simply laughed it off. “Sounds like a plan, you stuck-up weed of a woman,” he cheerfully boomed at me.
With that matter settled, I got up from my table. “You are dismissed”, I told him, “I will practice my yoga upon the roof; do not disturb me unless it is an emergency. We shall depart tomorrow.” He nodded, and I walked out of my home. Focusing for a moment, I began to float off of the ground, and levitated myself onto the roof. My training was not only one of the few chances I had to improve upon myself, but it was also a reprieve from the world around me. I began, and time melted by.
The Long March
Makuhita sat with me as I extended my senses outward, scanning for any trouble that may approach our caravan. He seemed to be uneasy; bored even, the entire time we were sitting. “Hey, Asana, I got a question for you,” he said, the blessed silence around me being torn to ribbons.
I opened my eyes and glared at him. “I would prefer you not talk while I work, but go ahead,” I replied. “Ask as many banal, asinine questions as you want.”
He thought for naught but a moment. “Why do you even do this stuff? It's long, boring, and I can tell by the way you've been acting that you want to be anywhere but here,” he asked.
“I still have worldly needs,” I replied. “I need a roof over my head, water, and food, and because of you, I need the Poke more than ever. Do you have any idea how many pots you have knocked over and broken?” I asked.
Again, he laughed it off. “I can't help being large and in charge, Assy! If you hate being chained down to your job so much, what would you like to be doing instead?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He knew I loathed that nickname he gave me. It was his own way of reciprocating the many verbal jabs I took at him. “First off,” I stated, “I told you to never call me that again. Secondly, what I -want- to do is simple. The gift of Aura is not something many can use, yet it sits there, derelict, like a rusting Honedge. I wish for nothing more than to refine it, my body, and my mind to the apex of its potential, yet I am chained here. I live for the few times the caravans I guard have come under attack.”
An awkward silence fills the room. “You live for the attacks, Assy? Even the time with that cactus guy?”, he asked, which I responded to with a quick slap to his face. “I deserved that,” he muttered to himself, before I returned to scanning the desert around me.
Iron and Nickel
The trip from Oasis to Sahra Town in the south went without a hitch. All of the crops and produce the caravan had carried were sold, and now they made their way back home, carrying the hard rewards of their labor. However, about a day into their journey back home, trouble arose. A Pokemon stood in the middle of the road defiantly, staring down the lead packmon of the group. He didn't even take the effort to conceal his presence, two guards approaching him immediately.
With a flourish of one of his cape-like wings, the Hawlucha blocking the caravan introduced himself. “Greetings, unsuspecting guards and pack Pokemon! I, the grand and terrible Iron Wing, demand all of your money”, he declared. With another flourish, he took a step closer. “If you do not hand it over swiftly, I shall dive-bomb you into submission!”
Laughter erupted among the two guards. “Is that seriously the best line he can come up with?”, a Mawile asks a Jolteon. The spiky Pokemon giggled in response.
“I think I've heard of this guy,” Jolteon replied back, “He's only C rank! I bet I could fry him, like, instantly!” The two girls kept giggling amongst themselves, the Hawlucha clutching his talons in anger and preparing to charge them. However, a head popped out of his fanny pack, bringing the reckless retribution he was about unleash on them to a screeching halt.
The head was a small, round thing, dotted with two antennae, adorned with a pair of circular, silver-tinted glasses, and dotted with a frown. “Wings, I told you not to get worked up by other people's trash talk!”, it yelled at him. An arm makes its way out of the pack, the Gimmighoul pointing towards the Jolteon. “Quit your loitering and jab her with a stone before she wastes you!”, he commanded. Nodding to his partner, the Hawlucha picked a sharp-looking rock off of the desert floor.
Just like he had rehearsed with his partner, Iron Wing waited for his opponent with the type advantage to attack first. As soon as Jolteon sent a burst of electricity his way, he leapt off the ground and over the sparks, soared towards her, and jabbed her with a particularly nasty Stone Edge using the rock he had picked up. She reeled back, yowling in pain, while Mawile turned their jaw towards the bird of prey. As her rear mouth opened, readying for an attack, the Gimmighoul in Iron Wing's pocket chucked a Blast Seed straight into it, the exploding projectile causing her mouth to cough and sputter smoke.
Turning around to see the commotion, Iron Wing seen Mawile, still coughing and hacking. “Now's your chance!,” his companion yelled out, “Use your finishing move!”
The Hawlucha nodded to him. “Got it, Nickel. She's history!”, he exclaimed. With a theatric flourish of his wings, the flashy outlaw leapt high up into the air and dive-bombed his enemy with his signature Flying Press, taking her out of the fight entirely.
Returning his attention to where it was he before, he noted that Jolteon had fled. The Gimmighoul, Nickel, looked at the sands below them. “She fled to the back”, he observed, “I guarentee there's gonna be more coming...”
Sure enough, more guards approached the front – A Rhydon, a Kleavor, and a Houndoom. Nickel raised his teashades and stared at them, groaning. “Wings, follow my lead exactly. Do -not- screw this up, got it?” The Hawlucha simply saluted him, and prepared for battle.
Flaring Tensions
I sensed a single Pokemon, stopping us in our tracks. I opened my eyes, and looked towards Makuhita. “Why did we stop?”, he asked.
“There's a Pokemon that stopped them in the front. It's most likely some amateur bandit who thinks he can fight through all of us,” I replied. “They aren't worth my time.” My “partner”, as loosely as the term could be applied, shrugged. What happened next was a blur. I heard laughter, followed by a yowling scream. Hearing the patter of footsteps, Makuhita and I got out of the wagon we were riding in, and were met with one of the guards; Jolteon. A large gash was in her side, and she looked panicked.
“T-there's these two crazy guys up front! One of them stabbed me with a rock and hurt Mawile”, she reported, but something was not right. I only sensed -one- Pokemon. “There are two of them?”, I asked, the canid nodding back.
“Yeah... We were laughing at him one minute, and then this tiny guy started yelling at him!”, she clarified. Mark and I looked at each other. We nodded, having reached a silent understanding, and ran up to the front.
What I saw was concerning. Rhydon was out cold, Kleavor had a rock jutting out from the head of his lifeless corpse, and Houndoom was struggling. I could see a Hawlucha leaping and gliding around his Flamethrowers, and beneath the sound of the crackling flames, I swore I could hear a voice. Makuhita and I drew closer, and my suspicions were confirmed. I -was- hearing someone.
“Wings, keep dodging, He's gonna run out of juice in a second!”, the high-pitched voice commanded. The Hawlucha continued his dance against Houndoom, and when they had ran out of stamina, the canine charged in an attempt to bite him. “Dodge, then counter!”, the voice commanded of him. Dodging with amateurish footwork, he countered with telegraphed moves that only hit by virtue of Houndoom's own fatigue. With a final elbow to the neck, the bird won, and then approached us.
Up close, I could see his accomplice clearly – a Gimmighoul with odd shades was sticking his head out of a bag on their person. It was no wonder I couldn't sense him. His weak, muted aura was hard to notice when it was by the crackling, flamboyant pillar of fire his partner exuded. The air was silent and tense, both of our sides staring at each other, until Makuhita broke the ice.“Just who the heck're you two supposed to be?”, he asked.
In response, the Hawlucha laughed in an over-the-top manner. “I am the grand and horrible Iron Wing!”, he exclaimed, “I will soon be the greatest bandit the South has ever known, and you two are nothing to me but more fodder to the blazing inferno of my greatness!”
His companion stared at him, his expression a mixture of anger and bewilderment. “Hey, don't forget about me, you buffoon! I'm the only reason you're not stuck in Sahra picking pockets!”, the Gimmighoul yelled. The disdain and anger in his voice was almost palpable, and after his outburst, he resumed his focus on the two of us. “Ugh, I got off-track for a moment there. I'm Nickel. I'm this moron's manager. Now, you two better step out of the way, or I'll have Wings tear your throats out. I wanna be done babysitting this overgrown nestling for the night, and you two're in my way.”
I inhaled, my words still on my tongue, when Makuhita's laughter pierced through the desert skies. “You're two're a circus act, not professional bandits. We've got Manlet Mitch over here micromanaging the biggest jobber I've ever seen, all because he's too much of a wimp to steal by himself!”, he said mockingly. My open palm swiftly impacted my forehead. My companion, in this singular moment of time, messed up in even more ways than I had initially could've conceived.
He not only brought attention upon himself and egged the robbers on, in spite of his nonexistent combat experience, but he called that Hawlucha the most offensive, inflammatory term their culture had. If Makuhita died here, I would have zero pity for him.“What did you just call me?”, Iron Wing snarled.
“I said you're a jobber without any talent”, Makuhita reiterated. I decided to stand back and watch how he handled this criminal; at least for now. Not only did he need humbled, but it would be a free chance for me to analyze how the so-called “Grand and Horrible” Iron Wing fought.
The Oldest Trick in the Book
Iron Wing let out a primal scream and charged towards my companion, slashing at him in his talons in a near-feral rage. To my surprise, Makuhita took this initial, frenzied barrage quite well, and in the midst of it, he punched the Hawlucha in the face. Reeling back, he was then punched in the gut, and fell to the ground, groaning. The Gimmighoul from before popped his head out of his partner's fanny pack, looking quite irate. “DON'T JUST LIE THERE AND NAP ON THE JOB! GET UP AND ACTUALLY PUT SOME TECHNIQUE INTO IT!”, he yelled at the top of his lungs. Stirring, Iron Wing got up, and shifted his tactics.
He attacked Makuhita with a flourish of his wings, and unlike before, my obese companion actually stumbled back. If I were to guess, this was a less efficient, more “stylish” version of a Wing Attack. The two fighters fought with the elegance and the poise of two drunkards in a bar fight, the Hawlucha using his Wing Attack on multiple occasions. By all logic, such attacks should've made quick work of a fellow Fighting-type like Makuhita, but to his credit, he endured the pain, and kept on standing. He had an endurance that seemed almost supernatural, and soon, Iron Wing was getting tired.
Popping out of his pack again, Nickel dispensed more advice to his charge. “Quit playing with your food, Wings,” he said, “Finish him so we can get our bread and go home!” Nodding, the Hawlucha did another flourish of his wings, and slowly began to crouch down. This was my chance to finish things! As the bird prepared to leap in the air, I fired a bolt of Confusion at him, making him stumble.
Nickel turned his sights towards me, pointing an arm out towards my person. “Bird-brain, I've figured out their gimmick!”, he said triumphantly. “Quit attacking Tubby, he'll just goad you and weather your moves until you're winded, while his partner peppers you with psychic crap! You need to deal with her, and fast!” Iron Wing nodded, and dashed towards my position.
To his credit, the bird's “manager” was smart. However, the Pokemon he chose to “manage” was a complete amateur, and I intended to prove that to him. He tried to attack me with a flourish of his wing like he did to Makuhita, but I nimbly dodged out of the way, staring at him. “You move like an inebriated Slakoth”, I said. “It's impressive you lasted this long, but my companion wore you down quite nicely.” I shot out another bolt of Confusion towards him, which he evaded, and then he continued his attempts to strike me.
He couldn't even come close to me. Not only were his attacks badly telegraphed, but his fatigue only slowed him down. I read him like an open book. Seeing the Hawlucha's failure to strike me, Nickel's head popped out again. “She's much faster than that lard sack; you've gotta strike her hard and fast!”, he yelled. Iron Wing tried to attack with a set of talons again, but I dodged, only for his free hand to slash my left eye open with an Aerial Ace, faster than an eyeblink.
His first move was merely a feint. I steeled myself and pushed back the pain, and closed my remaining eye for a second, reading a few seconds into the future with Detect. He was going to use another Aerial Ace. Opening my eye again, I raised an arm the second he began to swing. It hit it, drawing a bit of blood, but the opening his recovery provided was enough. With another blast of Confusion, I sent Iron Wing down to a knee, and I looked down upon him.
“Sahra Town is only a day away,” I said, “I will take you back there and turn you in myself; it is only fair compensation for your actions tonight.” I moved in to take the Hawlucha, but Nickel popped out of his fanny pack yet again, and threw a seed at me. My entire body locked up instantly; petrified in place like a statue. He must've thrown a Stun Seed.
The Gimmighoul grinned at me, adjusting the circular, silver-tinted shades that he wore. “You mock my talent for being an amateur, but you fell for the oldest trick in the book,” he gloated happily. “If you lay low, no one will ever know you're there. You thought I was just some useless bum hiding behind someone bigger than me, didn't you? Well, that's the last mistake you're ever gonna make.” Nickel turned around, looking towards his partner. “Now, Wings. Are you gonna get up and tear out her throat, or are you gonna just kneel there and propose to her?”
Iron Wing struggled, getting up after a few seconds. As he was doing so, my eyes darted around, being the only part of me that wasn't frozen in place. Where did Makuhita go? Did he abandon me here and leave me to die? I never got the chance to achieve my goals. Instead, I was going to die here, alone, in the most humiliating of ways possible. Looking back at the Hawlucha, I saw something strange. There was someone looming over him. The strange Pokemon lifted up a rock and smashed Iron Wing's head with it, knocking him unconscious. With my opponent down, I could see the identity of my savior now – Makuhita had come back for me.
Nickel scrambled out of his partner's pack, shaking in place while he looked at my partner. “Well, you forgot the oldest axiom there is, little buddy,” Makuhita stated. “It isn't over until the fat man sings.” Nickel stuttered, attempting to find a retort, but fear silenced whatever thoughts of defiance he could've had. Instead, he held onto the strange-looking coin he possessed, and ran away as fast as he could.
My partner walked up to me and shook me, dispelling the effects of the Stun Seed. “Asana, you almost got yourself killed and are probably gonna lose an eye,” he stated with not even a single hint of mirth in his voice. “I'm supposed to be the one who's terrible at fighting, and even I know you're never supposed to let your guard down.”
I seethed with anger, not just because he was right, but because he forgot the grave faux pas he commited in the first place. “I -know-,” I said, “It was my mistake. However, I don't see you taking responsibility for what you said to that outlaw. Are you even remotely aware of how reviled that term you used is among his species?”
He sat there blankly, the gears in his head turning. “What, “jobber”?”, he asked.
“That term is an insult to their very integrity and valor as warriors, Makuhita,” I clarified. “If you call a Hawlucha that, you deserve whatever pain comes your way.” Finally realizing his mistake, he soaked in the gravity of the offense he committed, only for the two of us to be interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
Aftermath
Jolteon had returned from her hiding place, the wound she received having already been healed, leaving only a jagged scar on her side. She must've consumed an Oran Berry. I glared at her, built up anger brewing within my being. Where had she been, this entire time? I was nearly slain, and that yellow fool would've been next! “Were you just cowering there while we fought?”, I accused. “You could've fried him!”
“S-sorry,” Jolteon sputtered out. “I saw my bestest buddy Mawile get hurt, so I had to warn everyone else! All the stronger Pokemon were already heading towards that winged jerk, so I decided to get the two of you instead! I, uh, then watched the two of you fight, a-and your friend was pretty cool,” she stammered. “At least you both made it, right?” She didn't seem to realize it, but her face was redder than a Cheri Berry.
The implications of her account and her body language capped off my sense of anger with a wave of nausea. Not only did she sit back like a coward while her fellow guards fought and bled; one of them even dying, but she was fawning over my graceless oaf of a companion. I marched closer to her, aiming to make my displease known. “This line of work is not for the faint of heart,” I began. “Pokemon get hurt, and if they're unlucky, die. Did you even see what happened to Kleavor, you mindless ditz?” The air hung for a few seconds. “M-Mawile's actually good at this stuff,” she replied, “She was gonna teach me how to be a good guard, I swear!”
I had enough. Pushing my darker urges deep into my subconscious, I look away from Jolteon. “At least make yourself useful for once, and guard that bird's body with that -thing- you're fawning over,”, I commanded. I walked over to the caravan, and grabbed some supplies from the front: Oran Berries, some bandages, and a rope. I first went over back to the Hawlucha we defeated, and I tied him up. Then, going over to each of the other guards, I used the medical supplies I had gathered. The berries healed their lesser wounds, and the bandages would cover up those that would not heal as easy.
I informed the other guards of my plan – Makuhita and I would take Iron Wing back to Sahra Town and turn in his bounty, while the others would go on ahead. They agreed to this, but to my infinite displeasure, Jolteon decided to tag along with us.
Questions, Answers and a Proposal
Jolteon continued to pepper Makuhita with questions.
“Makky, how did you become so super-duper tough?”, she asked.
“Dunno. I just woke up that way,”, Makuhita replied.
“Makky, why is Assy such a jerk?”, she asked.
“She's been like that ever since I knew her, but she isn't all bad,” Makuhita replied. “She saved me from sweltering to death after a Pidgey that was flying over me dropped a rock on my noggin.”
“Makky, what's your workout regiment?”, Jolteon asked with curiousity.
“I only just recovered from having my head caved in by an irate Graveller; I haven't thought that far ahead yet,”, Makuhita said. “If they don't have any decent weights for sale in the town we're going to, I'm probably gonna start out by punching rocks for a while.”
“Makky, are you single?”, Jolteon probed.
“Yeah,”, Makuhita said dispassionately.
“Makky, do you wanna go out to dinner with me in a couple of days?”, she asked, her face beginning to turn red.
“Eh... I guess, if you're paying,” Makuhita replied, seeming ignorant as to the implications of her prior two questions. “As weird as it sounds to me now, I'd never turn down free food-”
My head turned sharply, my eyes boring a hole into Makuhita behind me. “Did you seriously have to teach her that name, you deformed Miltank?”, I asked. “I've told you a hundred times by now not to call me “Assy.” It's Asana.”
Jolteon quickly butted in between the two of us, sparks of electricity bouncing off of her. “Maybe he calls you that, because you're always acting like one!”, she yelled at me.
“So now, you're being brave when it's your crush who's in the line?”, I snapped at her. “Maybe if you hadn't mysteriously lost your spine while that bird was fighting, we could've gotten out of there unscathed!”
The outlaw I was carrying stirred. “Would you all please be quiet?”, he mumbled, before drifting back into slumber. Seeing the wisdom in his words, I carried on, and the other two shortly followed.
We arrived in Sahra Town not too long after that exchange. Mercifully, Jolteon went to look for a place to dine while the two of us dragged our quarry to Deputy Magneton – apparently, Magnezone was busy today, and he was filling in. “This is the cavaran robber, Iron Wing. We're handing him over to your custody,” I explained.
“SCANNING...” The area around Magneton hummed. “OUTLAW VERIFIED,” he beeped. “YOUR REWARD IS 1,500 POKE. YOUR HARD WORK IS APPRECIATED, CITIZEN.”
I paused for a moment, staring at the bag of Poke that had been levitated into my hands. “1,500?”, I asked. “That is quite a lot, for what was supposed to be a minor crook. That's slightly under twice the pay I usually get for my job guarding caravans.”
“BOUNTIES ON THIS CONTINENT ARE HIGHER THAN ON OTHERS,” Magneton began to explain. “SADLY, CRIMINALS HAVE TEEMED HERE FOR GENERATIONS. AS YOU ARE LIKELY AWARE OF ALREADY, CARAVAN ROBBERY IS ESPECIALLY PREVALENT.”
Makuhita nudges me. “Hey, Asana. I found the solution to the whole money problem,” he chimed in. “We'll talk outside the station, got it?” I was unaware of the plan he was concocting, but I nodded in agreement regardless. Anything would be better than the near disaster of our sole caravan run.
As soon as we walked out the door, my “partner” began to elaborate on his scheme. “So, Asana. You said you hated your job, right?”, he asked. I nodded without any hesitation. “Well, you said that guy was a small fry, -and- it paid better than your caravan work, so how about this? You can drop your crummy day job, and we can work together to catch outlaws full time!” I held out a hand, stopping his mind in its tracks.
“Firstly, outlaw hunting is dangerous,” I replied. “A single, careless mistake would cost us our lives. Secondly, you only won against that Hawlucha because he was inexperienced, unskilled, and you finished him off from behind.” This caused my so-called partner to remain silent for a few moments.
Then, he began to smile, finally having found his words. “Well, you want to be a kick-ass martial artist, right?”, he asked of me. “You aren't gonna achieve your dreams by just sitting around all day and waiting for trouble to come to you. Direct, first-hand experience is the best way to improve in any discipline, and bounty hunting would offer plenty.”
Makuhita's smile grew wider. “Where's the cocky, self-assured Assy I know and love? I heard you talk with that guy while I was finding a rock to bash him with, and at least according to you, you took out the sidekick of one of the baddest guys on the Sand Continent by yourself, -and- stood up to his boss without an iota of fear. For as much you hated on Jolteon for being a coward, it seems like your bravery left you after only a single brush with death. What sort of fighter buckles under the slightest pressure and runs?”
I was floored. As much as I hated to admit it, Makuhita was correct. For a moment during that attack, I was paralyzed; helpless to the whims of my enemy. I -was- scared, as much as I hated to admit it. I was scared of dying in such a humiliating way; never reaching the heights I knew I could. Our near defeat played out in my mind when we were walking back to Sahra, and yet, he was undaunted. I was too passive in how I lived my life. My partner had more drive and initiative than I had ever possessed, and because of that, I was humbled.
My mouth couldn't help but curl into a smile. “You're right, Makuhita, although I will be training you before we tackle anyone. Even though you can be irritating at times, you deserve to be more than dead weight,” I said, walking towards him. I rested my free hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, for opening my eyes, and having my back.” I was used to working alone. It felt strange, having a comrade by my side, but at the same time, it was reassuring.
Makuhita laughed off my heartfelt gratitude, as he did all things. “That's what I'm here for, Assy!”, he shouted. The smile I had swiftly evaporated, as I withdrew my hand from his shoulder and slapped his face. He knew fully well not to call me that.