//------------------------------// // Chapter 49 // Story: Starlight: Redshift // by the-pieman //------------------------------// The day has finally arrived, and I’d won a few battles so I could pay for the three of us to get in and see the contest. We file into the stands, along with the rest of the crowd. Of course, all pokemon in the stands are to be recalled unless they can fit on your lap. Luckily for Rarity, Ledian is now skinny enough to do just that and still watch. Once the stands are jam-packed, a spotlight is aimed at the judges and an announcer. The announcer is a tall, good-looking young man with vibrant orange-and-green striped hair. On anyone else, it’d look terrible, but he somehow pulls it off. “Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages, welcome to the Great Barrier Port Journeyman Contest!” The announcer has flair, and a sense of showmanship too, posing like a pro. “Today’s contest is going by standard single contest rules, and twenty-nine contestants have registered! It’s going to be an impressive run today.” The announcer turns to gesture at the judges table, which has three people at it. The first stands up as the announcer calls out, “Contesta Jr, the four-year contest-judging wiz!” The young man waves cautiously to the crowd. “Our very own local Nurse Joy!” said Nurse stands up as well, giving a little bow. “And finally, the thirty-year veteran judge, all the way from his home in the Kanto Region...” The final judge stands up, an aging man whose appearance nags at my attention for some reason. His purple hair has three streaks of silver-white in it. “James Lewis Stuart!” The man stands up, and the recognition clicks in my head. Holy shit... I look closer at the guy and... oh my god, that’s freaking James from Team Rocket! Wow... guess that’s a clue as to exactly when I’ve been dropped in here. James looks out at the crowd and keys his mic. “As usual, the Rocket Corporation has donated the prize money and paid for the ribbon for today’s contest! I hope you all enjoy it.” That voice... older but... that is James, and he bought Team Rocket out? Woah... I wonder if I could go down after this and shake his hand or something... Wonder what happened to Jessie? Maybe she actually finally struck it big in the Contest circle after all... “And now,” the announcer calls, “for the first contestant, Emily May from Autumnwash Town!” A young girl with a darkly-colored pokemon floating behind her steps confidently onto the stage. “Emily May is competing today with her Darcape!” Cheering and applause fill the stadium. Huh, the person isn’t familiar, and neither is her pokemon. Should be interesting. The pokemon used a combination of Shadow Ball and Psychic to psychically juggle a trio of explosive ghostly projectiles. The effect was impressive, but not that good-looking, which resulted in an overall poor score. The next is a middle-aged man with a Vileplume, which he puts through its paces getting a glittering cloud of multicolored spores, before funneling them down to make a sparkling statue of honey or nectar, which it stuck in place by the layers of debilitating pollen. Third is a young boy with a Rattata. This is actually where it gets interesting, as the trainer, Robert, throws out a trio of hoops, which begin to roll around the stage. The Rattata goes through one, over another as it rolls towards it, and finally leaps on top of the third and runs along it to propel it along the ground at a fair pace, before bouncing and getting the three hoops to stack, balanced on top. Now that is talent! I nudge Rarity. “See what I mean about appearances only being half the game?” The judges call out the scores for Robert. “An excellent use of natural talent and the Quick Attack move!” Contesta Jr. says, clapping and giving a 9.5 rating. “A beautifully cared-for pokemon; that Rattata wasn’t even out of breath at the end!” Nurse Joy yells, slamming home a 9.8 for Robert. “Superb work and training to accomplish such a difficult feat,” James says, “and your bond shows clearly in how perfectly you both pulled it off.” A calm motion and a solid 9.7 pops up for Robert. This places him easily two full points higher on the average than even the previous guy’s Vileplume. So now there are still a bunch to go... but with the numbers already being passed around, it might be over right now unless someone just dominates the entire thing with one trick. The next eight or so are rather tame, though none are truly disappointing. This is, after all, a minimum of two ribbons into each contestant’s career. A guy with a Machamp doing a routine with juggling half-ton barbells is finishing up and I yawn. It’s just an overload of cool, I suppose. Then, the lights dim as discs of shadow eclipse all but the spots illuminating the entrance to the stage. From the dark tunnel comes a lithe, humanoid shape. The shape resolves into a Gardevoir with the local ‘tunic’ look, a blue scarf around its neck, and a glint of some form of metal at its left hip. “Ah, a special treat for you all, folks, it seems Otaria’s four-time Contest Grandmaster has shown up again... Xavius, and his Gardevoir, Lya!” Dafuq? I heard that wrong, right? “For Lya’s third Contest, it seems Mr. Night has brought her to our own fair contest hall. Let’s see what he’s put together this time!” The whole room goes silent. I could probably hear a pin drop on the other side of the stands. Lya steps forwards, slowly and calmly. Suddenly, a flash of light announces the arrival of a sword... from her hip. That’s what the metal was, I see. The Gardevoir begins moving in a slow, steady pattern, blade cutting gracefully through the air. Then, something truly unexpected happens: Her sword clashes against another sword, and Xavius is standing there with the competing blade. The hall is still silent, but I swear I hear a gasp from someone nearby as the two begin trading blows in what I can tell is a carefully-practiced stagefight, though it’s more stylized than what I learned for the show-tournament in Medieval Club. In fact, I think it might be fencing, though that’s just a guess based on how thin their weapons are; I’m more of a shortsword guy. After about half a minute, they stop, bow to one another, sheathe their weapons in smooth, fluid motions, and turn to bow to the judges as the shadows pull from the lights. It’s at this point I see the psychic emanation fade from the Gardevoir’s eyes. Which means... she was the one keeping up the shadows the entire fight? She didn’t even seem taxed by the effect... and last I checked, Gardevoir can’t do that, meaning she had to fake it with a move combo... kept up while swordfighting with Xavius. Holy shit that’s good. Then, the silence is broken as everybody starts cheering and applauding wildly, many standing to do so. “Magnificent use of combined moves! Excellent grace and form! Gardevoir can’t even learn the Swords Dance move, but was able to accomplish this entire routine anyways! Incredible accomplishment, once again!” Contests Jr. shouts, clapping so hard his hands are turning red. A perfect 10.0 flashes for his given score. “A beautiful display, and masterfully done! I loved the movements; so pretty to watch, and also useful!” Joy exclaims, also standing and applauding. Her own score is given as a 9.8, likely for something she saw that wasn’t 100% perfect. James, however, is quiet, and not applauding. He looks... contemplative. The score from him flashes at an 8.8, causing a ripple of surprise to go ‘round the contest hall. “Lya... please lift your right arm.” Wait, what? The gardevoir freezes in place for a moment, before slowly raising her arm as asked. From here, I can see the thin red line of a fresh cut, along with the blood gently weeping from it. “I thought I saw a mistake. A daring and admirable routine, but the end result was not a perfect one. Good job, Xavius, and I hope to see you do better next time as well.” In spite of the almost... cruel tint to the words, James does sound genuinely hopeful. Of course, if Xavius is somehow a ‘grand master’ of the contests, maybe he should’ve known this was a risk. One thing is left to do though, once everyone has gone. Preliminary elimination and then a sort of competition between the top ten to determine the winner. “All the scores are now set,” comes the announcement, “and here are our top eight contestants, with only four drop-outs and one no-show: Robert West, and his talented Rattata, Damien Wheeler, with his fantastic Vulpix, Tessa Scotsman, with her resilient Wobbuffet, David Tenman, with his Rotom, Daniel Irons with his Dusclops, Alexis Thompson, with her incredible Velocial, Xavius Night, with Lya the Gardevoir, and Rebecca Trelawney with her Alakazam! After a ten minute break, the competition round will begin, and each contestant will face a single-elimination fight to the finish! We’ll be right back everybody, so freshen up and get a drink, because things have only begun!” I’ve never been one to get up to do do anything but stretch during intermissions, and I don’t really feel the urge to act differently today so I take the extra room of missing people to loosen up after sitting mostly still for the past... Idunno but it feels like an hour or two. Having stretched, I sit back down between the girls. “So these are all pokemon who, at the very least, have only won two contests before. Guess you’ll have to come up with some really mind-blowing stuff if you’re planning to keep up, Rares. A nice-looking dress alone doesn’t look like it’ll cut it once you get through the easy ones.” “Well, as wonderful as the outfits are, I never expected them to solely carry me through these challenges. I have plans, Anthony. Just because they don’t involve fighting each other, doesn’t mean they’re obsolete or inapplicable.” “I never said that fighting is the only option, I’m saying you’ll need to win more than once with all your pokemon or you’ll only end up being able to enter one and that means you have to come up with some dang good routines for your entire party.” “I know, Anthony. You may not have noticed, or really checked, but most of my free time now is dedicated to either writing home or working on new routines with my pokemon. I’m also thinking of trying to find a good pokemon to send home for Sweetie Belle. Something adorable and hardy. Like those Spinarak I’ve seen on the breeder’s page.” “I can’t imagine your little sister and her friends with any pokemon at all ending in something other than another disaster. Don’t you think they’re rambunctious enough as is? You wanna give them a pet with super powers?” “Oh, Anthony, there’s plenty of evidence that Pokemon make excellent foalsi- er, childsitters. I’m sure something with the ability to wrap them up would simply be a bonus. And think of the sleeping bags! Why, you could dye each cocoon and have it be individual for each of the Crusaders!” “Babysitters. And your underestimation of the destructive capabilities of those three never ceases to amaze me. You realize that when they realize that the string is sticky and bouncy the first thing they’ll think of is, like, making a giant slingshot or something, right?” “Well... I suppose I’d want to also get something more responsible. Ooh! Another pokemon recommended for taking care of children is Houndoom!” I feel my eye twitch. “No. No way. If you give them a meat-eating fiery demondog bigger than all three of them combined, I’m calling CPS on you.” “What? But it said that Houndoom are extremely loyal and loving, and are good with children...” Rarity looks upset at having been misinformed. “You’re thinking of Growlithe. A Houndoom is likely to see three little fillies and think ‘dinner’ before ‘friend’. And even if they trained it, can you imagine how often things might end up on fire just so they could, Idunno, try to earn their marks in firefighting?” “Well... I suppose you might be right. Still, there must be some pokemon who would be able to help keep them in-line.” “...fine, I’ll think about it. Seriously though, those three are trouble, and there aren’t many pokemon that couldn’t make them even more dangerous. All I can imagine is them doing something stupid like, Idunno, poking a Magikarp one too many times or something...” I get an idea. “Well if you can manage to feed it, get a Snorlax. Don’t move much and they double as both a giant bed and trampoline or emergency raft. I doubt the Crusaders have eliminated every possibility that involves flooding the town.” “A thought that I’d rather not contempla-” Rarity is caught mid-sentence by the announcer. “Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Competition Round of the contest!” The announcer continues to grandstand on the stage, making my attention wander, but my attention is brought back in full when he begins announcing the rules. Now, I’ve seen the competitions in the shows. Usually, the second half of the competition is an elimination-style battle setup that relies on a points system based on the appearance of your moves. Here, though... “As you know, ladies and gents, the second half of the contest is Otari Rules, and does not involve direct combat! Indeed, each of these pairs will be trying their darndest to avoid interrupting the other’s display. If either pokemon fouls the other, both are eliminated from the competition right then and there.” Huh, not a bad idea. The announcer continues. “Each contestant will have one minute to make their display more impressive than the other’s without disruption or disrupting, with the winner continuing on to the next matchup! Those that don’t succeed will receive their consolation prizes, and second and third place will still receive their cash prizes, as usual! Alright, everybody, may the games... be-gin!” The first matchup is between Robert and Daniel, their pokemon each setting up on opposite corners of the platform. Daniel’s Dusclops immediately begins setting up a series of circling purple flames, each one pinging with an eerie tone. Robert’s Rattata begins grabbing wooden blocks from its trainer, quickly stacking them -with just mouth and tail- into a curved ‘hangar’-style construction, once again wowing me with the skill that Rattata has. Meanwhile, the Dusclops starts letting off deep, rumbling-bass Shadow Pulses. After a few moments, the fires stop making noise, and the Dusclops stops pulsing. Then, it thrums like a speaker set to ‘earthquake’, and I feel the bass in my bones. Rattata, impressively, starts working to the music, now leaping higher and higher with its Quick Attacks to place the blocks in an ever-taller tower of shocking stability. Finally, the rumbling in the floor is causing the entire towers to shift and sway, though it’s being reinforced with incredible speed and precision by the insanely swift normal-type. Finally, the minute is up, and the music stops and the tower is easily ten feet tall. “Alright, everybody! Certainly an inventive start to this round, that’s for sure. What do the judges say?” Contesta, of course, goes first, saying the tower, while simple, is still impressive without any human intervention. Nurse Joy thought the use of simple pokemon moves that normally have nothing to do with sound to produce music was an impressive idea, and James took a moment to say that while both seemed very good, he prefered the building to the music, as the building was made to survive the music, but the music was utterly unaffected by the tower. Accommodation and adaptation are key. Thus, the win is given to Robert, who sits off to the side with an average score of 9.8. Next is that Damien guy with his Vulpix, and Alexis with the velociraptor-looking Velocial. If I remember right, that’s the one that turns into ice-Godzilla. Well, as long as it doesn’t evolve in here I suppose there’s no huge deal... maybe. Damien gives orders to his pokemon, but Alexis physically goes to assist hers. The end result is Damien with a fiery puppet show, and Alexis with a glittering ice statue of the Judges at their stand, each with ‘10.0’ engraved on their panels. The judges get a kick out of that, and Alexis is praised for her accuracy to form, progressing to the next round with 9.6 as her score. Next after that is Tess and Xavius, and this time Lya has bandages around her middle. they’re stained a little red, but not excessively so. I suppose she just didn’t want to lay down for an hour to let the healing set in. It doesn’t, however, hamper her, and she quite effectively shuts down the lights, and begins going through a complicated series of martial arts moves with the only light coming down on Lya. Tessa’s Wobbuffet doesn’t even get much visibility, much less do anything impressive enough to pierce the shroud of darkness over the stage. Xavius leaves with a 9.5 end score. The final match for the round is David Tenman and Rebecca Trelawney, his Rotom and her Alakazam trading hairy eyeballs on the stage as they try to outdo each other, ending with the Rotom possessing a microphone and sending out lullaby music to everyone. Rebecca’s performance, unfortunately, is forgettable through the sleepy haze the judges and... we the audience are in. Not sure if that counts as cheating. David moves on to the next round with 9.1 as his score. The next two rounds go even faster. Robert and Alexis face off, this time with the provision that they can directly interfere with each other’s performances, and Alexis is able to prevent the Rattata from doing well enough to continue, leaving Alexis with an average score of 9.7 afterwards. Xavius and David pair off, and Lya starts the round by disabling every device within the legal range of the match, leaving Rotom without anything to possess and stripping its trainer of ideas. After the judges get their mics working again, Xavius receives an average score of 9.5 once more, due to Lya almost blowing up the judge’s table trying to use Telekinesis to shove Rotom. And then, it’s on to the final round. I can’t wait to see how this turns out for them.