Separate Ways [Sio]

[FANG SOUNDERA]

It was a beautiful day outside. The weather was practically perfect. The sun was bright, heating the day to a lovely 72 degrees. A rare cloud or two coasted across the blue sky from time to time, and a cool, quiet wind occasionally rustled the leaves. The wonderful weather only added to the peaceful nature of the Crystal Lake, as the only sounds that disturbed the peace were natural ones, and thereby didn't really disturb it at all.

Fang was currently sitting at the edge of the lake, his dark blue jeans rolled up past his knees, and his legs dangling over the edge in the cool water. He lay upon his back, his hands tucked behind his head to act as a pillow, his legs swinging back and forth through the water, creating tiny ripples as they went. Mitya, Fang's Growlithe, was half-curled up beside him, his head resting on the youth's stomach, eyes closed as it soundly slept.

The male took slow, steady breathes of even movements, his focus entirely on this sole action. He was a naturally calm person, and it was uncommon to find him stressed or unrelaxed. He frequently took breaks to simply sit and take a breath or two, as he was extremely inclined to peace and quiet in opposition to loud excitement. He was not a fan of hot weather, and while 72 was nice, it was still bordering on uncomfortable for him. As such he'd decided to put his feet in the lake and to take a break from his travels, deciding instead to travel later in the afternoon when it had cooled down.

For now though, he was content to lie where he was, his mind focused on nothing but the simple act of breathing.

[SIOBHAN]

Alright. This is very definitely not Stormcloud.

Siobhan couldn't help but feel like a fool, standing in the middle of an empty bus bay with a blue bird on her head. The bus she had rushed aboard just this morning had apparently not be destined for the major city Stormcloud, but instead the sunny little town of Summer. This is quite evident by the fact that no, the sakura forest that the city was known for was nowhere in sight, the Pokémon Centre was a good deal smaller than expected, and, of course, the signboard loudly proclaiming WELCOME TO SUMMER TOWN to her left.

Altair, as if sensing his trainer's frustration, let out a cheep of concern. The girl reached up and patted his wing gently to calm him, and the Swablu relaxed again. "Don't worry, Altair. We'll just settle here for the moment -- after all, there's really no rush. Perhaps we can catch the shuttle to Stormcloud tomorrow, if we wake up early enough, but since we are stuck here for today, let's make the best of it." Glancing around, she found the local attraction: Crystal Lake. "There! Shall we take a stroll down the Crystal Lake Path? I heard that one could see all sorts of wild Pokémon there." Altair cheeped in agreement, settling himself more comfortably atop her head; with a chuckle, Siobhan set off.

It wasn't long before she reached the lake. She was not alone, it appeared; there was a figure lying on the bank, with a small orange doglike Pokémon curled up beside him. Well, that was one she was pretty sure she knew, but it never hurt to check. Besides, this would be a good time to trst out her newly-received, sky-blue Pokédex. Pointing its camera at the puppy, the girl pressed the button -- and winced immediately as the speakers blasted out, "Growlithe, the Puppy Pokémon. Growlithe are very loyal and won't move unless their trainer commands it." There goes any semblance of peace and quietness, thought Siobhan as she slipped it back into her bag and edged away from the pair. Any moment now, either/both of them were going to wake up, and she really didn't quite fancy explaining how she completely forgot that there was a "volume" setting on her Pokédex. Altair, alarmed by the sudden noise, squawked and fluttered off her head, circling her in erratic, panicked loops.




Words: 416
EXP: N/A
OOC: :>

[FANG SOUNDERA]

Fang was oddly enough somewhat practiced in the art of meditation. Not purposefully by any means, and certainly not in any specific or particular kind. More so in his own technique, accidentally discovered and perfected, that consisted very simply of slow, deep, measured breathing, accompanied by silence and relaxation.

It was nice to take a few moments out of his day from time to time, for while the boy was not a typically high-strung person, he was very... Stressed, perhaps was the correct word. He was not a very sociable person and kept mostly to himself. People were sources of stress for the young trainer, so he avoided them. However, he was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to pokemon. Thereby his training and such in that matter wasn't usually very relaxing either.

This moment here at the lake however, was. Until it was interrupted by the blaring voice of a pokedex, which might as well have been the sirens of a fire truck. Fang's jaw tightened, his fingers pressing into the backs of his opposite hands as his body constricted in slight annoyance. Mitya's flattened ears immediately perked, although he did not open his eyes, nor did he shift positions. A short moment later, the blond drew in a deep, measured breath, and let it out slowly, and with great control. His body physically relaxed in response.

Slowly, he tilted his head backward, until he was able to see the source of the disturbance, albeit upside down. It was a young girl, clearly a few years younger than he. She seemed just as startled at the sudden, loud exclamation of noise that came from the device in her hand, as did the frantic blue and... The male's brow furrowed, black, Swablu? His head tilted slowly to the side, as if trying to get a better, and more natural, look at the flying pokemon. Yes, it was definitely black. Not entirely, but still. Well, that was certainly interesting.

The boy's emerald green gaze remained on the odd pokemon for only a brief moment longer, before they flickered back to the girl. As if he'd read her mind, the words that left Fang's lips ran straight along the lines of her thoughts, "On the side," He informed her, his voice silky smooth, "A ridged dial." The volume control. He assumed she knew of its existence, and had simply not stopped to consider that it might be turned up to such a penetrating decibel, "Or next time you can just ask." If she wanted to know what Mitya was, he would have told her.

[SIOBHAN]

Siobhan froze when the boy tensed. His Pokémon's ears angled in her direction, but the Growlithe did not seem to want to wake up. She watched as he relaxed again, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, and was wondering if he had gone back to sleep -- and if she should take this chance to slip away -- when his head slowly tilted back. She blinked as his green gaze fixated first on her, then on Altair, his brows furrowed; understandable, as they had both received quite a number of alarmed looks since the start of her journey with the Swablu. It returned to her once again, and she met it bravely. In any case, surely she owed him an apology?

"On the side," he spoke suddenly. "A ridged dial." Her gaze snapped back down to the device in her hands at those words. Indeed, there was a knob on the upper right of her Pokédex, clearly, and quite redundantly marked, "Volume Control". She blushed fiercely when she realised that the dial was turned so that the setting was on "5" -- the highest it could go. Ah. Quietly twisting it back down to a more reasonable "1", she swallowed uneasily and was about to reply when the boy spoke again: "Or next time you can just ask."

Altair, who had calmed down remarkably since the outburst, had elected to settle by her feet. At this, he gave a chirrup of agreement, before glancing down at the Growlithe with curiosity. Experimentally, he hopped closer to the puppy, tilting his head to observe the entirety of the Pokémon. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Siobhan found her voice again (albeit a rather small one), and stuttered, "Y-Yes, I agree. I'm sorry. I thought you were... asleep." Even Altair paused to raise an eyebrow at the irony of this statement. If the other trainer and his Pokémon were asleep previously, they (well, one of them) was definitely not, now. "I should really... leave you now, shouldn't I?" Giving him an apologetic smile, she beckoned to Altair: "Come on! Leave the Growlithe alone!"

Altair, on the other hand, wasn't quite ready to abandon this source of interest yet. With an adamant chirp, he hopped closer, until he was almost right next to the puppy, and gently prodded it with his beak.




Words: 399
EXP: N/A
OOC: Sleeeeep DDX

[FANG SOUNDERA]

Fang hadn't intended to embarrass the girl. In fact, it hadn't even occurred to him that she might feel uncomfortable, or flustered as a result of what had just happened. He simply spoke the words that came to his mind. The boy was not one to censor himself. He did not stop to think about what affect his words might have on someone. He simply said them regardless.

The male's dazzling green gaze flickered momentarily to the advancing Swablu, but returned immediately to the girl when she spoke. An eyebrow raised in response to her words in simulation of the bird pokemon as the same thought occurred to him. If she'd thought them to be asleep, shouldn't it have occurred to her to either ensure that the volume of the device was turned down, or to not use it at all? Even if it had been on its lowest setting it was quite possible it could have woken one or either of them. A Growlithe's ears were very sensitive, after all.

While he said nothing that indicated he wished her to leave, Fang did not say anything to prevent her from doing so either. Nor did he offer any words of comfort to assure her that her disturbance was not a problem, and that she needn't worry. He merely stared, some what emptily, at her as if it were simply something to do. Until his attention was drawn elsewhere, that was.

His head returned to its earlier position as his eyes shifted to the Swablu. He did not shoo it away, nor chastise it for its actions. Instead, he simply watched.

Mitya had not moved from his earlier position, and appeared very unconcerned with the events around him. The chirp did not interest him in the slightest, nor did the approaching pokemon... Until it pecked him. One large, forest green eye shot instantly open, and immediately zeroed in on the trespasser of his space. It narrowed the moment it had locked onto its target, and rested there, unblinking. With this single eye the Growlithe intently analyzed the small bird-pokemon before him, before at last the rest of his body seemed to respond to the intrusion.

The fire-type's other eye flickered open as he raised his head and turned casually to look fully and directly at the Swablu, his entire expression oddly blank and inanimate. He blinked, then all at once seemed to come to life. His lips parted, his tongue lolled out to the side, his green eyes brightened, and his entire body inflated with one, deep breath. It was on its feet in a split-second motion, its front half lowered down toward the ground, its hind legs and tail sticking straight into the air. A general atmosphere of excitement seemed to be leaking from the dog pokemon as a deep, resounding bark echoed from deep within his throat.

Fang rose slowly from his position on the grass. He drew his legs from the lake and turned about so his back faced the waters. He located his socks, and began to use them to wipe the water from his legs, before sliding them on. He seemed entirely unconcerned with whatever Mitya was doing.

[SIOBHAN]

Altair shuffled his wings, acutely aware of the other trainer's gaze on him and his owner's calls. Well, nothing actually happened, he thought a little belligerently. The Furry Striped Cushion was still asleep. The boy wasn't exactly waving his arms around to chase him away or anything. The lake was a nice place, with cool breezes and warm sunlight that made him feel a lot braver than he had in a while. Why was Siobhan in such a hurry to leave?

The girl, in fact, was quite rooted to the ground. She had been rather caught between scooping up her Swablu and making a run for it, and staying for a while more, trying to rectify her error. The newest development of her Swablu -- her Swablu, her shy, gentle Swablu -- pecking the Growlithe. Horrified, all thoughts of escape draining out of her mind, she could only stare wide-eyed at the pair of Pokémon.

Ma'am, he chirped a reply at her. Since you woke him up, why don't you do some of your... fiddly human things, like... talking? I'd rather stay here a while more! To accentuate his point, he fluffed up his feathers and made himself comfortable on a tuft of grass, implying that he really didn't want to move. Glancing back at the Furry Striped Cushion, the Swablu got a shock when he saw a round, green eye staring at him. I could swear that wasn't open just now... Wait, ma'am, I think maybe you're right. We could leave. I won't mind, in fact --

Here his train of thought was derailed quite spectacularly. Almost explosively, the Furry Striped Cushion had erupted from its original prone position to an upright one -- all between what seemed like the blink of an eye. Its pose, now, rather reminded Altair of a dangerous, merciless, Swablu-eating monster. His newfound bravery vanishing in a moment, the Swablu stared at the Furry Striped Monster's lolling tongue -- the sharp teeth, oh Arceus! -- helplessly, quivering. One bark, one rolling majestic bark, from the Monster was enough to send the bird careening off towards Siobhan, cheeping his terror.

The girl was similarly caught unawares by the Growlithe's bark. Startled, she took an involuntary step back, just in time to dodge a wildly-flailing Altair. The Swablu spiraled around her twice more before planting himself back on her head, still trembling. She couldn't help but smile wryly and stroke him. "It's alright... I believe. It's hardly going to attack you, Altair. Not with its trainer around. It's probably--" Frowning, she removed the Swablu and tucked him into the crook of her elbow, before glancing at the aforementioned "trainer". One eyebrow perked up at the nonchalant manner with which he was putting on his socks (socks? Now?); nonplussed, she cleared her throat and asked, "Would your, ah, Growlithe be a male or a female, if you don't mind me asking? It seems... big for a dog. I can see that your... training has been, ah, effective." Siobhan had not seen a Growlithe before; she hoped that her obligatory compliment did not seem as transparent to him as it did to her.

Then, suddenly remembering that she had yet to introduce herself, the girl quickly composed herself and gave a little bow, not much beyond the bob of her head -- Altair was easy to unsit from his "throne", as she had discovered twice on the bus -- and pointed at said Swablu: "I'm sorry for my lack of manner; my name is Siobhan, and this is my starter, Altair." It was an awkward introduction, certainly, but given the circumstances of their meeting, she thought she had done rather well.




Words: 627
EXP: N/A
OOC: How... are we going to start a battle? >O< I've a feeling Siobhan doesn't even know how to battle yet, hehe. Has she been annoying enough for him to battle her, or...? XD

[FANG SOUNDERA]

((Lmao! Furry Striped Pincushion! XD, that made my morning.))

The clear and sudden excitement that had momentarily appeared to seize hold of Mitya seemed to immediately drain out of him. His tongue retracted, his mouth closed, his body leveled out, and his once perked and pointed ears slowly drooped to the sides. Disappointment became the evident emotion, and it was quite obvious, for when the Growlithe displayed an emotion, he did so with every last hair on his body.

Well that didn't go as expected... The thought flickered through the fire-type's mind as his bright green gaze suddenly appeared much duller as it followed the Swablu back to the protection of its trainer. He'd assumed from the small pokemon's natural curiosity that he must have been a more confident and forward type, and hadn't expected in the slightest that his reaction might send the pokemon careening in the opposite direction. No, he'd thought that it had wanted to play.

Fang's attention never left his current occupation, for once he had his socks on he had set to rolling down the legs of his jeans. The clearing of the girl's voice earned a slight pause in his actions, but he continued the moment she began to speak, not bothering to glance upward at her, "Male." He answered, "He's naturally larger than typically." The general height of Growlithe's was around two feet, whilst Mitya's was clearly a couple of inches past three.

Said Growlithe had, in the mean time, lowered himself into a rather pitiful looking sitting position; tail limp and loosely curled about his body, head drooping, ears turned out flat to the sides, fur heavy and disarrayed, his gaze slightly adverted. He was clearly very afraid of the fact that he may have offended a possible new friend, in direct contrast to his trainer's demeanor.

By the time the girl spoke again Fang had already slipped on his boots and set to lacing them up. He finished upon the end of her introduction, and rose smoothly to his feet, coming to stand at Mitya's side. He studied her for a brief moment in silence, as if in consideration of whether or not to return the favor of the introduction, "I'm Fang." He replied at last, "And this is Mitya." As he spoke he let one hand stray from his side to lightly brush the top of the Growlithe's head.

The instant he did the creature's entire stature changed dramatically once more. He seemed to light up from the inside out to the point where he was practically shaking with excitement, seemingly incapable of keeping still an instant longer, yet managing too nonetheless. One thing Fang had come to learn about his companion was that he hardly remained in one mood for very long.

The boy glanced down at the quivering pokemon and immediately removed his hand from the Growlithe's head. At this instant he sprung from his position on the ground and immediately let loose another resounding bark.

Fang's attention returned to Siobhan and Altair, "He likes your Swablu." His smooth voice informed her, his expression unchanging. Without missing a step he continued, "Do you want to battle?" It had occurred to him back during the girl's initial disruption that she was a trainer, and thereby potential battling experience for any of his pokemon. His intention had been to ask her from the start, despite how sudden and out of nowhere his request seemed to be.

((Unfortunately, as I said, it's morning =P My posts always suck then. Anyways, Fang is like, THE most direct person ever, so starting a battle = easy as pie, as demonstrated lol.))

[SIOBHAN]

She couldn't help but feel sympathy for the Growlithe when it drooped visibly at Altair's exit. It was certainly an expressive Pokémon; the contrast between its excited state and its current posture was far starker than she had expected. Are Growlithes always so easily excitable? Thought the girl, dipping her head carefully to look at the orange puppy, stretching a cautious hand out towards its ears. Would it like a scratch? Or a rub? Or merely a pat? She was at a loss.

Altair made frantic cheeping sounds. He flapped his cottony wings, backing away from the Monster, almost losing his footing. She frowned briefly when a claw tugged on a strand of hair unexpectedly. Reaching up, she plucked the Swablu forcefully from his perch and tucked him into her arms, crossing them protectively in front of the bird. Initially startled by the proximity to the Monster, Altair nonetheless relaxed when he noticed that the Growlithe was a) unable to reach him and b) not particularly threatening anymore. Bolstered by this new observation, he changed his mental name for it back to Furry Striped Cushion. (Or, perhaps, Furry Striped Explosive Cushion? Nah. Too long.)

The boy's words caught Siobhan's attention. "Male. He's naturally larger than typically." Exhaling in relief -- well, it wouldn't have worked as well as if he'd said something along the lines of "Oh, but the others are larger than him" -- the girl stroked Altair's wing absently while studying the Growlithe. He was sitting in a sad-looking manner, ears and tail dropping, as if the mere act of perking them back up took too much precious energy. She waved her hand experimentally in front of the Growlithe, gauging his reaction, but before she could actually attempt to touch him, the boy had reappeared at his Pokémon's side, speaking again: "I'm Fang, and this is Mitya."

The puppy's spontaneous, and loud, response to a casual stroke on his head once again startled Altair. Chirruping in alarm, he leaned back from the now-energetic creature, pressing himself behind Siobhan's protective arms, sticking only the top part of his head out to peek at the Growlithe. Replying to the bark with a squawk of his own, he squirreled out from his owner's grasp and flitted to her shoulder. Well, it has a better vantage point, he defended himself feebly to the girl's raised eyebrow. I'm not such a coward, you know! Just jumpy! Hoping that he'd gotten his point across, the Swablu peered at the trainer-and-Pokémon pair, head tilted slightly.

"He likes your Swablu. Do you want to battle?"

The two sentences caught Siobhan entirely off guard. Blinking, she ran them through her mind again: yes, Mitya certainly likes my Swablu. That is quite clear. But... Do I want to battle? Is there even a link? Unconsciously mirroring her Swablu's posture, she tilted her head too, still nonplussed. "Well. That was unexpected." Altiar could use the practice, and in any case, seeing how she would match up to a fellow trainer would be a good experience. Nodding, she told him, "If you wish. I only have Altair, though. Will you be using Mitya?" It seemed to be counterintuitive to letting the two Pokémon befriend each other.



Words: 559
EXP: N/A
OOC: ASDF, pretend Sio hadn't plucked Altair in my previous post >__> I was sleepy too. And still am

[FANG SOUNDERA]

While it didn't happen, Mitya would have been all too happy to have Siobhan scratch his ears. Said action was one of the puppy pokemon's absolute favorite things in the world, and he didn't care who was the one administering it. He didn't know this young new trainer, but this too mattered not. Unlike his master, he was extremely open to new relationships, and trusted until given a reason not to. He was a skilled judge of character, and as far as he could tell this girl was a fine young lady who would make an equally fine friend.

Fang seemed somewhat unimpressed by the Swablu's frantic squirming and flapping, and for a moment almost reconsidered his offer for a battle at the sight of the flustered pokemon. He doubted that the girl had had a chance to battle with it yet, and by this fact alone he assumed that he would win easily. Still, every little bit was beneficial, and he would take anything he was given in order to improve his pokemon's strength. He was after perfection after all, and that was not gained by standing idly by.

The request didn't seem unexpected in the slightest to Fang, but then again that was because he was well aware of his train of thought, and how he'd come to the point of asking for a battle. This, along with the fact that he was not very aware of social etiquette and thereby hadn't bothered to consider how sudden his request may appear, lead the male to simply shrug in response to Siobhan's comment, and remain in silence for her answer.

Fang glanced down at the energetic fire-type beside him in momentary consideration of the girl's question. Mitya was his preference, yes. He wanted the puppy pokemon to be the leader of his team, the strongest he had, and right now he was fairly even with the boy's other pokemon. His green gaze returned to Siobhan, "Yes." He responded a brief moment later.

It hadn't occurred to him that using the Growlithe might be counterproductive to the fire-type and Altair becoming friends, but that was not the foremost thing on his mind. Training and getting stronger were what mattered to him; they were the reason that he had asked for this battle, not so that Mitya could make friends. Besides, what did it matter? It was not as if they would see this girl again. But that was just how Fang's mind worked. Building relationships was hardly ever a motive behind his actions, and thereby got left in the dust when he made decisions, for the matter was hardly ever taken into consideration. This fully explained the boy's lack of friends.

[SIOBHAN]

Siobhan watched as the boy's gaze flickered between Altair, Mitya and herself. What was running through his mind? She was unnerved by his reticence. Of course, she herself was hardly the most talkative of all, but at the very least, she responded in full sentences when spoken to. She felt a mix of resentment, wariness and bemusement towards Fang. If she were more given to making friends spontaneously, she would have taken the initiative to socialise more. But given that they've pretty much started off on the wrong foot and she wasn't particularly a company-seeking person, she merely nodded when his reply came: "Yes."

Of course, she now faced another problem. It had only been a mere day since she had received Altair; she had no idea how he would be like in a battle -- his strengths, his weaknesses, his whims. That being said, she wasn't exactly well-versed in Pokémon battling, either. This would be a new experience for both of them. In the usual Siobhan manner, she took the challenge as it came. With a stern nod to Altair -- a battle's a battle, after all -- she backed towards the path she had first walked along. Stopping at the signpost, she surveyed the area: it was about the size of a basketball court, slightly slanting down towards the lake, ringed on two sides by trees and one side by the lake. The last edge simply narrowed into a road, and then into the path she was standing on. Quite an acceptable battleground, given the impromptu nature of the battle.

Was she supposed to start first? Eying both Altair and Mitya apologetically, for she didn't want to hurt them, the girl indicated the battlefield. "Altair, you'll be up against Mitya. Do your best. Start with a... a combination of Astonish and Peck, would you?"

The Swablu nodded hesitantly. He wasn't agreeable to the idea of taking on the large, imposing Furry Striped Cushion alone, but it wasn't as if he had a choice. An order was an order; besides, there was indeed no-one else to take his place. Steeling his nerves, he put on the best glare he could muster and took off, circling Mitya a few times before plunging into a tree. A few seconds passed; then, with as loud a screech as he could, Altair burst from the foliage, his beak open. Faint rings of shockwaves emanated from it, along with his horrible, crow-like screech. Siobhan winced and covered her ears. It wasn't the best performance her Pokémon could put up, by far, but it was quite something for his first battle. With an encouraging nod, she waited for the Peck as he soared over his opponent, trailing shockwaves in his wake.

Snapping his beak shut, the blue bird zoomed in on his now-opponent, black-and-white wings flashing. He aimed at the flanks of Mitya. It required a careful manoeuvre, certainly, and with some difficulty, the Swablu banked on one wing, bringing himself around the side of the battlefield and towards the Growlithe. He swept dangerously close to the ground, eyes squinted against the sharp wind -- please let this hit land!



Words: 540
EXP: 540/--- (before post-battle calculations)
OOC: >w< Here goes!

[FANG SOUNDERA]

Fang noted Siobhan's apologetic expression. As far as he was concerned there was no room for apologies on the battlefield. If this girl wanted to be a real trainer then she needed to get over her weak-hearted emotions and accept the fact that battling meant the likely potential for injuries to one's pokemon, and that was just something that would have to be dealt with, not apologized for. He kept these thoughts entirely to himself, however. The male had a tad bit of a perfection-complex, and thereby had a difficult time tolerating weakness, or what he saw as weakness. He was not, however, a promptly rude person. If asked his opinion on the matter, he would say exactly those words, as he said what he thought, but he would not share them otherwise.

Fang's brown furrowed as he slid a couple of steps back in order to give Mitya room the maneuver. Was she politely requesting attacks of her pokemon? Well that was certainly a first in his book. Nevertheless, the bird seemed to be responding positively to the tactic. The male snorted quietly, as if in slight disbelief of the sight. It was interesting, to say the least.

Mitya still appeared to be shaking all over with excitement. Every last striped hair stood on end. His ears were stiffly perked, his tail straight up in the air, his green eyes bright and open. While he liked this little Swablu, and he didn't want to hurt it, he didn't see a battle as counterproductive to developing a friendship at all. Rather he saw it as a way of building one. They could truly get to know each other this way, as he saw it, and he was glad for the opportunity.

"Let's go, Mitya." Fang's voice drew his attention, and the orange pokemon's entire demeanor quickly changed. His playful atmosphere immediately hardened as his stance widened, his tail dropped casually back behind him, and his lolling tongue retracted behind sharp fangs. His emerald gaze narrowed and locked instantly on his target. His muscles tightened and coiled, visibly flexing beneath his taught skin. He was clearly prepared for battle, and in full implementation of his Intimidate ability.

Mitya focused entirely on Altair, attention following him in and out of his line of sight. His head turning to follow him to one side, then instantly snapping around and picking him up on the other edge of his vision, trusting Fang to inform him if an attack was made from directly behind. The fire-type's attention rested fully on the spot where Altair disappeared into the trees, his body remaining tense in anticipation and preparation.

Then it began.

Altair exploded through the leaves of the tree, sending them scattering to the wind. It's bullet-like movement was accompanied by a terrible sound, which struck the Growlithe's body almost physically. Mitya ears flattened tight against his skull as an odd feeling of weakness flashed quickly through his body, and left him feeling slightly unnerved. His reflex was to step back away from the source of the piercing screech, but he forced himself to hold his ground, and concentrate hard on the flying pokemon instead of the sound emanating from its throat.

It was difficult however, and it was not until the sound of Fang's voice drew his attention that Mitya snapped completely back to reality, the bone-chilling screech almost forgotten, "Mitya! To your right. Ember." There was no denying that Altair was likely more agile than the fire-type, due to his much smaller and lighter body. However, Fang was willing to bet that Mitya's raw power outdid that of the Swablu, and he would have to put it to use quickly.

Mitya immediately turned when the command was give, coming to fully facing the oncoming Peck attack. His great jaws parted, and from his throat exploded several loosely packed spurts of red-hot flame, directed at the advancing Swablu.

EXP: 676
TO GO: 1,574

[SIOBHAN]

Altair squeezed his eyes shut as he neared his target. The blow would be as damaging to him as it'd be for Mitya, if not more, should he fail to control the angle, the speed and the direction. Sweep along the flank. Tilt your wings so that your belly is angled towards him; dangerous, but it leaves your wings with room to manoeuvre. Push down, hard, as soon as your attack ends to gain altitude -- get away from Mitya before he can execute a close-distance attack, such as Bite. Recover first before the next move. Listen. Get your heartbeat under control. These thoughts flashed through the tiny bird's mind, some instinctive, others derived from tales of battles he'd heard when he was at the laboratory. He felt guardedly optimistic, almost confident, when he repeated his previous mantra: please let this hit land.

But then, well, you know what they say about one's best-laid plans.

For one, he had certainly never expected a blast of flames to his face.

It was hot, terrifyingly hot. The first one sailed past his face, mere centimetres away, and he cringed instinctively back, his pep talk forgotten. And then of course the next Ember hit him straight on. He should never have moved, on hindsight. The Swablu couldn't help but let out a screech of sheer agony when he felt the flames scorch along his back -- it felt as if his entire spine was on fire! But at least this pulse of attack was short-lived; it faded out after a second, and the pain lessened considerably. But, unsettled and distracted as he was, Altair didn't notice as the last of the flames passed dangerously close to his right wing. A lick of fire caught the fluffy cottony down on his wing -- and burst into flames. The bird shrieked again and completely forgot that he was in a battle; he could do nothing beyond simply flying in wide, erratic loops around the entire field. It was a miracle that none of the trees caught fire.

Siobhan almost let out a cry in consternation to mirror that of her Swablu, but caught herself in time and resorted to simply clenching her fists. She had to think on the fly, almost literally. "Altair! Gain altitude and try your best to snuff out the flames!" She almost considered pulling him out altogether, but she had an obligation towards Fang and Mitya. It wasn't their fault. "Wait. Come to me first, before you execute that." An idea formed in her head to combine an attack with Altair's next actions, but she had no idea if it would work.

The Swablu looped around the field again and came to her. She could see that he was trying his best to hover, yet his flight was wild and uncontrolled. The bird was in agony. She kept her whispered command short: "As you sweep down, use Astonish in tandem with a Peck again. Hit Mitya from the above, if you can; avoid his front." The bird gave the briefest of nods and commenced soaring into the air; the initial increase in speed caused the flames to flare up, but as he reached a certain altitude and began a steep, spiralling dive, they were swept out of existence. As instructed, he kept his wings to his side and fell, silently, towards Mitya, waiting until the last possible moment to aim straight at the Growlithe, letting out another deafening blast.



Words: 586
EXP: 1026/--- (before post-battle calculations)
OOC:

[FANG SOUNDERA]

The last thing on Fang's mind was whether or not the trees would catch on fire. He could absolutely care less about the environment, nor the potential of his attack to destroy it. The only thing he was concerned about was this battle, which didn't seem as though it was going to last long. The male was extremely confident in himself, pushing toward egotistical. There was no possibility in his mind that he and his pokemon might lose this one. The successful Ember attack only solidified this assumption in his mind. And if he were the type to smile, he would have done so with satisfaction at the sight of the Swablu flailing wildly about in the sky as the flames burned.

Fang's green gaze dropped to the girl across from him. She seemed just as disheveled and frantic as her pokemon. Would she be able to figure out what to do? Or would she just stand there, wide-eyed, and scared? At last she spoke out a command, and Fang was left having to mentally commend her for her decision. It was smart, he owed her that. An increase in altitude would result in a decrease of oxygen, which was necessary for the flames to live. If Swablu flew high enough, they would likely extinguish.

And yet, for some reason she chose to postpone this, in favor of speaking with the pokemon. Was she crazy? She was allowing those flames to eat away at the small pokemon's fluff and skin, likely burning it. What could she possible deem important enough to delay the diminution of that fire? Whatever it was, she kept it short. Short enough that perhaps it didn't make much of a difference, as the Swablu was soon soaring high into the sky. It was at this moment that Fang realized he'd been thinking far too much. He should have acted, not allowed the Swablu to save itself, or for Siobhan to provide it with a strategy of any kind.

A frown creased the male's lips, his emerald eyes turning quickly back to Altair as the flames vanished from sight, destroyed by the absence of oxygen. The pokemon blended with the sky, and as it turned about to dive back down, Fang lost sight of it.

Mitya's keen vision however, never did. He watched as Altair spiraled downward, a torpedo in free fall, directed immediately at him. His stance widened in preparation for the command maneuver, which quickly came, "Flamethrower!" The word echoed from Fang's throat, and the dog-like pokemon's jowls parted to comply. The flames never came however, as Altair put the Astonish attack into effect, startling the fire-type into flinching as it instinctively drew back, turning it's face away and lowering its ears in an attempt to bar the piercing sound.

"Dammit, Mitya, don't turn away!" It was stupid to take ones eyes off ones opponent in a battle, and Fang was not pleased with the Growlithe for doing so. He was just setting himself up to get hurt, as it was impossible to dodge an attack if he didn't know it was coming! "Bite it, Mitya!"

Fang's voice drew the Growlithe's attention, its deep green eyes flashing open as it turned back toward the advancing Swablu. But it was not where he had guessed. No, it was much closer, it was about to connect, it was using Peck... Mitya attempted to snap his head around, his jaws parted, his sharp teeth gleaming in the light. Altair's beak connected with his shoulder bone, the sharp angle found a poorly padded area. Who knew the chances, but Altair had struck where the muscle was thin, and skin and fur were all that separated beak from bone. The momentum of the other pokemon's spiraling fall was behind the attack, giving its otherwise light body that lacked strength much greater force. Mitya felt the sharp, stinging pain; felt his entire front left leg feel as though it had gone numb with vibration.

But he still attempted to execute the Bite attack. His head craned about as far as neck would allow, he snapped his jaws shut, having absolutely no idea if he was even anywhere near the Swablu, as he had simply aimed in the direction of the pain, which frazzled and distracted his mind, leaving the attack to guess work.

23 + 742 = 765/2,750