Step 8: Zephyr (Patreon)

Step 8: Zephyr

Uki’s Campsite, Route 36.

As clever as I felt for coming up with alliterative, or tongue-in-cheek, or even funny punny names for the moves I create; all that work I put into training my Pokémon to use those moves goes down the drain the moment I vomit my lungs out against a competent battler. 

Like every overly enthusiastic teacher mid-lesson, I flailed my arms about maniacally while explaining my new battle strategy to Baloo. Who, like every long-suffering student who just wanted to get through the day’s work, miserably cradled his cute little head between his paws in the futile attempt to stave off an oncoming headache. 

It wasn’t enough to just teach my Pokémon moves; we needed to refine our communication to be as efficient and unpredictable as possible.

“Just because we enjoy taking naps doesn’t mean we need adopt the same lazy mindset when battle training. There’s something else we need to work on. Just like yelling ‘DODGE!’ in a battle is pointless and inefficient, calling out the names of moves during a fight is also a poor strategy. It gives away your intentions to the opponent and wastes precious time. We’re going to use codes instead.” 

Baloo and Yecu both tracked my back and forth pacing with swiveling eyes. 

My passion was probably far too heightened for merely an audience of two, so I’d just pretend the berry trees they were standing between were the rest of the entire class. “Using monosyllabic codes will keep our opponents unaware of our next move and speed up your reaction time. It’s a tactic that’ll give us a significant edge in battle.”

Since my Teddiursa was one day fated to evolve into his final form, I might as well lean all in on the ground theme. My legs stopped moving in front of one tree, and my arms stopped waving about and instead pointed right at it. “First, let’s consider your bread and butter move with shuca berry spread. Peat Punch. This is your primary attacking move, which will one day even get that sweet sweet STAB. ‘Thump’ is the code word.” Simple, elegant. Quite unlike the violent nature of the physical attack. “Thump.” 

Thump. Quick on his feet and on the uptake, Baloo brought one ground aura charged paw down on the tree trunk.

A rain of plump green babiri berries nailed a frantic Yecu on his chitinous crown. My fist nailed the palm of my hand. “Perfect.” Far from fuming, my Krabby instead was happily distracted by launching himself at his favourite snack. “Attacking is all well and good, but sometimes you also need to discombobulate and debuff your opponent. Hence why I taught you Sand Attack - which we shall henceforth dub ‘Spice’.” Because god forbid you get it in your eyes. The accuracy drop was also very helpful. “Spice.”

That same paw of his, glowing still with ground type energy, raked its claws on the ground, kicking up a cloud of soil and sand that pelted Yecu right in the mandibles before he could even get a single Bite in.

I wonder if it was the mud mask on his face or the Crunch of air that put tears in his eyes. Too bad his pincers weren’t the most useful windscreen wipers as they swung about in the air with about as much rhythm as a drunk clubber. 

“Now, Baloo, the fact of the matter is that you are, and will always be, relatively sluggish. Slow and as agile as a beached whale. Our solution to this problem is arena setting. Or in other words, contorting and conforming the battlefield to your advantage by hindering whoever or whatever you’re facing. Which is where the seemingly benign Rototiller comes in. When I call out ‘Dune’, you know what to do.” It wasn’t exactly Sand Tomb, but it would do for now. “Dune.”

Baloo placed both paws down, flared his aura, and suddenly the ground beneath the scurrying Yecu churned and swallowed the Krabby into the earth, up to the second joints of his legs. 

“And last but not least, Fairplay. Your type coverage and retaliatory move that makes the best possible use of those bulky defense stats I drilled into you.” Before I could even continue, Yecu, still floundering in the dirt, flashed in the metallic shing of steel energy and covered his whole body with a Metal Defense. “Since Fairplay is a completely unknown move, it shouldn’t pose an issue in the next battle if I don’t give it a code just yet. You still need to get familiar with this new strategy.” Hands securely around his carapace, I yanked Yecu out of the hole Baloo had dug him into and passed him a babiri berry as thanks and apology for being my impromptu test dummy. 

“We’re gonna bury Falkner.”

–

Violet City Gym.

When I walked into the Violet city gym on the day of the challenge, it felt like my last statement was gonna be famous last words. 

If I was gonna be burying Falkner, I think his posse was gonna make me Dig my grave right beside his.

After a long trek from Route 36, the sprawling expanse of Violet City finally came into view. Johto, as a whole, had the traditional Japanese aesthetic going for it. Violet city, with its orange and purple pagoda style rooftops, cobblestone streets lined with softly glowing lanterns exuded that atmosphere at a level second only to Ecruteak in the region. 

The ding of his gym’s automatic doors opening up to let me in was the last pleasant sound I’d heard, because after checking in with his flighty receptionist, all I’d listened to on my march to the main stadium was cracking knuckles, grinding teeth, and steaming ears. 

I don’t know when it happened, but it seemed like all his bird keepers had been replaced with bikers and roughnecks. All that was left to sell the illusion were leather jackets and mohawks.

Clearly, I’d peeved off the entire flock. I wonder how many of them had spearows for starters?

“This is an officially sanctioned gym challenge against the esteemed Falkner, gym leader of the illustrious Violet city gym against Uki’Uki of Cherrygrove.” An announcer slash umpire flapped the coloured flags in his hand as soon as I reached my end of the field. “This is a two versus two battle, signifying it as a first badge challenge. Substitutions are allowed.” Unlike Falkner, who remained committed to his edge Lord routine by hiding in the shadows of his end of the arena, I got a clear view of the rules. 

Cultivating an aura of mystery was kind of stupid, considering my first meeting with the guy had him completely flipping his lid. Couldn’t blame him, though the easiest person to fool is always yourself. Though I couldn’t say that about how he set up his arena. 

Aside from the painted boundaries on the dirt floor, there was only a small pond for water type Pokémon to settle into. But nothing else, just flat ground and open sky. 

So, against a predatory bird, you had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. “Nice place. Too bad I can only see half of it.”

Clang. The stadium lights flicked on, no doubt to help the young master with his dramatic entrance. 

The field was now fully illuminated. I looked across to find no one there. “Up here, move tutor.” Sure enough, instead of just being normal, he balanced himself on the ballasts of the viewing platform a couple of feet above the battle zone proper. “It was brave of you to come, but foolish.” No points for guessing that he took an aura assisted leap off the railing. 

From up on high and all the way down, the flying type specialist glared at me like I was a worm. “Oh, that’s fantastic advice. I should return some other time. You don’t mind rescheduling for a few months later, do you?”

“You stay right there. Don’t even move a muscle!” Few things were more entertaining than shattering a young man’s ego. I understood now why pretty girls did it. 

His red flash of embarrassment was visible even at my end. Theatrics done and not nearly as unflappable as he deluded himself into believing, he instead turned his ruffled feathers to the suddenly nervous umpire who, at the unspoken signal, winged the green flag and commenced the battle. “Begin!”

Predictably, Falkner dipped his hand to his opposite waist and whipped out his Pokéball like he was drawing a sword. 

As the ball flashed open in red energy, the gyms disgruntled crew all cheered from the bleachers as what I expected to be a Pidgey coalesced instead into a majestic Noctowl. The bird of prey rotated its head to survey me, its eyes gleaming with intelligence. This wasn’t one of Falkner’s traditional first badge choices.

 The claws were coming out, so I let mine out, too. “Fine, let’s both go all out from the start!” The contrast was striking: my Teddiursa, a cute and cuddly teddy bear, looked like a snack in front of the intimidating Noctowl.

Falkner smirked. “Noctowl, kite it from afar! Air Cutter!” Noctowl took flight, flapped its powerful wings, and sent razor-sharp blasts of air towards Baloo. 

“Spice!” Baloo’s sharpened nails dug divots into the ground and sent up a cloud of sand, the plume of dust swirling and clashing with the air cutters. 

Sand Attack worked two fold here - first while it didn’t block the air cutters, it at least dampened the force and aura enough that any hits Baloo took wouldn’t be too bad, while also obscuring enough of Baloo to disallow the offending Noctowl an easy shot. 

Falkner’s eyes narrowed. “So what if I can’t hit you from afar? Noctowl has Keen Eye and can spot your Pokémon easily, despite the dirt. But I bet that was your plan all along! Let’s see if that bear can even put a dent into Noctowl’s plumage after this, Feather Dance!” Noctowl soared higher and rounded the ceiling-less stadium, raining down feathers infused with flying-type aura. They fluttered around Baloo, lowering his attack strength. “Now, Zen Headbutt!” Falkner ordered, confident in his strategy.

But so was I.

I stayed silent, watching as Noctowl dove with its head glowing with psychic energy. I trusted in Baloo’s training to withstand the hit. Noctowl collided with Baloo, the force of the Zen Headbutt reverberating through the arena. “Thump!” I shouted.

Even as he skidded back with the owl’s massive head barrelled into his gut, Baloo’s paw glowed as he delivered a powerful Peat Punch, knocking Noctowl out of the air and slamming it to the ground. 

Falkner’s eyes widened in shock. Usually, ground-type moves are ineffective against flying types, unless, of course, you ground them.

“Dune!” And it’s always best if they stayed that way. His paws flared with ground type energy as he slammed them both down on the ground between them. 

Before the Noctowl had a chance to fly off, Rototiller trapped Noctowl partially in the earth by one talon and half a wing. The bird struggled but couldn’t free itself. 

While it desperately fluttered, I stuttered. “Let me see that thump-thu-thu-thu-thump!” Baloo didn’t hesitate. He pummeled Noctowl with a rapid series of Peat Punches, each blow tossing almost as much dust into the air as his Sand Attack.

Falkner’s face twisted in frustration as he realized his Noctowl was on the verge of fainting. “Noctowl, use Hypnosis point blank!” he shouted, his voice betraying his panic.

Noctowl’s eyes glowed a hypnotic swirl of pink, and Baloo’s eyelids drooped. Those cheers from the gallery sounded more like jeers now. All directed at me and my bear.

Before I could issue another command, Falkner recalled his Noctowl and swiftly sent out his next.

Not willing to wait to capitalize on Baloo’s drowsy state, he was quick to release - I was stunned, a Murkrow? My brain stopped for a second at the unexpected choice. Falkner saw that and crowed in premature victory. “No way you can keep up now! Murkrow, Double Team and Tailwind!”

Murkrow blurred, creating multiple illusory copies of itself, while a powerful tailwind swept through the arena, boosting its speed. “Now, Pursuit!” Falkner yelled, his voice triumphant.

The crow Pokémon was fast and hit hard. All I could see was a blur of black. The only way to tell Murkrow’s trajectory was the line of dirt, the tips of its wings scraped on the ground during its flybys as he got low enough to strike Baloo. 

It zipped around Baloo, striking from every angle. Baloo swung back clumsily, never dodging, but his attacks met only air as Murkrow evaded effortlessly, its rapid strikes wearing Baloo down.

 I surveyed the situation, my mind racing. Despite the relentless assault, Baloo, though ragged and tired, was still holding out. My stunned look shifted into a predatory grin. Falkner’s choice of a dark-type Pokémon was about to backfire spectacularly.

Every hit, every injury on Baloo, only grew and bloomed the bright pink aura around him. All that effort we’d put into his defensive stats was finally bearing fruit.

We just needed one shot.

“Finish this Murkrow! You have him dead to rights!” Another blur sliced a hole through the descending dust of Baloo’s settling Sand Attack from earlier. 

Baloo closed his eyes. Falkner and his posse chirped in celebration. I inhaled and waited for the right moment.

Too early little birds.

“Fairplay!” His eyes shot open, the pink aura of fairy energy surged around Baloo with a Roar. With a single, powerful burst of shimmering fairy aura, Baloo unleashed Fairplay, just as Murkrow’s wing touched Baloo.

The decisive blow promptly sent Murkrow flying back with a pained Screech, till it landed - fainted- right by Falkner’s feet; and by the look on his face, his jaw. 

Though bruised, Beat Up, and begging for breath, Baloo stood in the arena. Alone.