Borne of Caution

"Happy to be free of the Pokemon Center and out training?"

At Lee's side, Octillery bounces in place with a delighted burble, his smile obvious even if his nozzle-like mouth does not move. A few feet away, Ninetales smiles at her new teammate's enthusiasm, while Grovyle simply nods his approval.

Shinx could probably match Octillery's energy like the electrified ball of fuzz that she is, but alas, Lee has reluctantly left her in Brendan's care for today so that she won't be dangerously underfoot during training of this level. 'Sorry, baby girl. I'll make it up to you.'

Four days after meeting Moore and Flannery to discuss their commissioned Fire move, Octillery is finally free of the Pokemon Center he now seems to loathe with a passion. The poor octopus pokemon seemed bored to tears until Nurse Joy came into the aquatic ward with discharge paperwork for Lee during their visit today. Octillery clung to Lee like he was some sort of savior the entire way out the door, not at all caring that they were marching into the fields outside of town to train ASAP.

Lee smiles and places a hand on Octillery's head. The octopus' skin is still slick and cool despite the heat. The Water-type seems unbothered by the early morning sun in the shadeless clearing Lee found several miles outside of Lavaridge for today's training.

"I'm glad that you're feeling better," Lee says with a smile as he withdraws his hand and lets it slide into his pocket with his pokedex. "I'm sorry to ask so much of you so soon after you've just left the Center, but are you willing to help us in the Gym battle here in a few days? We'll be fighting Fire-types, but you might still get a bit banged up."

Octillery blinks once, an inquisitive gurgle bubbling from his throat.

Lee had noticed the red cephalopod lost his focus a bit when Gyms were mentioned before, and takes a guess as to where the confusion might stem from. "Never heard of a Gym before?"

Octillery shakes his head in the negative.

'How odd. He's got a solid grasp of English, but doesn't know what Gyms are? Could Octillery have been wild the whole time?' Lee hums. "Well, Gyms are places where pokemon trainers pit themselves and their teams against the strongest pokemon team in a given area. If you win, you're given a badge as a token of your victory along with some prizes, and any team who beats all eight Gyms will be eligible for a tournament against other teams who've done the same thing. If you win the whole thing, you can challenge the Elite Four, who are trainers and pokemon of immense skill. By beating them one by one, you can then challenge the regional champion, the finest trainer partnered with the best pokemon around. Make sense?"

'Although, I'm not sure I actually want us to win. I know the title says 'Champion', but since the whole sport is so deeply intertwined with politics and regional military might, 'Champion' and 'Governor-General' are interchangeable terms here. Honestly, I don't think being Champ would be fun.' Lee is reminded of the card from Steven Stone still in his wallet. The card has both an email and an office phone number, but the idea of phoning a champion for idle chit-chat isso laughable that he puts it out of his mind. 'Oh, right. I haven't checked BattleNet in a few days… Oh well, they can wait.'

Octillery follows the explanation easily and nods, his tentacles waving and ready.

"Glad to hear it." Lee grins and withdraws his pokedex. He flips it open and points it at the water-type. "First off, let's get an idea of the moves you know and work from there. I've heard your kind have a talent for learning many types of attacks, and that's going to be a huge help, not only to the team but to the research I'm conducting on Type Energy." Lee's thumb falls on the pokedex's confirm button.

"Octillery, the Jet Pokemon," the mechanical voice of the pokedex drones. "The suckers on Octillery's tentacles grip prey so tightly that few can escape. It will then daze prey with a strike from its rock-hard head before eating." Once the 'dex is done with its blurb, a slew of more helpful info is displayed on the screen.

"Rock hard head?" Lee frowns. He looks over to his newest pokemon, a hand raised. "May I?" When Octillery nods, Lee places his hand on the octopus's head and gently presses down, finding that Octillery's head lacks a skull as expected and gives way. "Well then. I recall other 'dex entities also saying your species can squeeze into nooks and crannies too. I'll have to see about getting this bogus blurb corrected, then."

Octillery chortles in amusement, a curious sound similar to churning water. Then he seemingly sucks in a breath and…

"Eeh!?" Lee pulls his hand away when Octillery's head suddenly hardens under his palm and pushes out the dimple he made. "Wha? How did…?" The zoologist tentatively touches Octillery's head again, finding it totally unyielding as if a skull manifested out of nowhere. Lee closes his pokedex, Octillery's moves forgotten for now. "How did you do that?"

The red octopus raises a tentacle and looks at the barren ground, his head swaying back and forth as if hemming and hawing over how to explain. An idea seems to strike him, as Octillery's tentacle deftly moves like an inspired artist's brush. In the dirt, he draws a rough sketch of himself with a large, balloon-like head and eight tentacles. He gives the sketch a face, then draws a thin circle around the face. Another circle is drawn around the first, this time larger and almost touching the edge of the sketch's head.

Lee can feel Ninetales' curiosity, and Grovyle must be curious as well, as he and the fox step closer to watch Octillery work.

Circles drawn, Octillery then digs his tentacle into the space between the circles, carving out a trench maybe half an inch deep. He tosses the dirt away, then leans over his drawing and lets a dribble of water flow from his mouth into the trench, filling it up. With a gurgle, he scuttles back half a step and points at the filled trench.

Lee scratches his chin as he tries to puzzle out the cryptic explanation. 'How interesting…' If his backpack wasn't up against a distant tree, he would be tempted to get his notebook out and record this. 'What a remarkable way to relay information. Of course, most pokemon are smart enough to get simple points across a language barrier, but a full pictogram using abstract informational media like water is something else.' He looks up away from the pictogram to Octillery, who stares at him expectantly.

Ninetales' mind works as she tries to figure out just what the octopus means, and Lee can feel it. She looks up to Octillery with a short, questioning purr rolling from her throat.

Octillery stubbornly says nothing, putting a frown on Ninetales' face. 'Rude.'' The vixen mentally sniffs. 'He could at least say he does not want to answer.'

Grovyle looks like he's trying to figure it out as well, but the slight crinkle of his eyelids and the impatient twiddle of his twig tells Lee the gecko pokemon isn't any closer to finding the answer.

'Let's see. How could he suddenly harden his head, and how would it fit in the context of the drawing?' Lee studies the drawing again, trying to draw on his limited knowledge of cephalopods. 'Obviously, water has something to do with it, but is this in a biological sense or a TE sense? I feel like this drawing would be more outlandish if it was strictly TE, so let's assume it's biological for now.' He looks at the circles and how they're placed between the watery trench. 'Are the circles meant to represent some kind of container? A container for the water? It's inside the body of the sketch, so…' Lee clicks his tongue. "Octillery, may I touch your head one more time?"

Octillery leans in, giving the man his silent permission.

Lee places his hand on Octillery once more, this time pressing down more firmly. There isn't much—almost none—but there is just the barest hint of give. Lee's fingers sink maybe a millimeter or less into the octopus' head.

Withdrawing his hand and rubbing his fingers together, Lee ponders the new info. 'So still not a solid skull, but so close that it wouldn't matter much in combat.' Looking back at the water, the circles, and how they're arranged in the octopus sketch, the answer hits him. "I'll be damned." Lee grins and turns to Octillery. "Is it a subdermal sac that you can pressurize with water at will?"

Octillery's eyes widen to a near comical degree, then he burbles happily, his front two tentacles meeting each other in wet, delighted applause.

'It's one thing to use a pictogram, but another thing entirely to use said pictogram to relay advanced biological information in a manner understandable to others. Octillery is quite something.' Lee's grin is wide as the few doubts he has about Octillery fade away. "Now, that's nature at its finest. Both your brain and the pressurized sac."

The octopus nods like he expected nothing less.

"Now I have to know what moves you know." Lee flips his pokedex open once more and points it at Octillery. "I know I told you I was a researcher during yesterday's visit, but I didn't go into any detail, did I? On top of pokemon biology and psychology, Type Energy and its dynamics have been endlessly fascinating to me recently. I'd love it if you'd be willing to help me with my research with your huge movepool, Octillery."

The red octopus' eyes light up at the thought.

'Definitely the brainy type.' Lee smiles and scrolls down his 'dex to Octillery's moves. 'No wonder he hated the Center so much. I doubt they kept him stimulated enough. I'll have to make a note to get some puzzles and brain teasers for him so he has something to do in his downtime.'

When he finally sees the Water-type's movepool, Lee lets out an impressed whistle.

Scan Complete

Known Moves:

Wrap

Headbutt

Water Gun

Octazooka

Psybeam

Gunk Shot

Rock Blast

Charge Beam

Aurora Beam

Signal Beam

Ice Beam

Bullet Seed

Focus Energy

Lock-On

'Good God. Octillery has some insane coverage and knows how to mold nine of the eighteen different types of TE with the potential to learn more. I know for sure he can learn Dark, Steel, Flying, Fire, and Ground moves too. If he could someday learn how to use every TE…' Lee flips his pokedex closed and returns it to his pocket. Part of him suddenly wants to capture a Kecleon to use in conjunction with Octillery to study TE, but the thought is shelved for now. 'Only having two melee moves might be an issue, though. I understand Octillery is going to end up being a ranged attacker, but Wrap and Headbutt alone aren't going to be viable back-ups.'

Ninetales takes the moment to chime in. 'Iron Tail, perhaps? There is no reason he cannot learn to apply the move to his tentacles.' She tilts her head and meets Octillery's eyes. 'If he knows Bullet Seed, then Seed Blast is also on the table.'

'True.' Lee clears his throat. "So, Wrap and Headbutt are rather self-explanatory. Let's test out your other attacks and see what kind of things we can discover. Since Octillery is the newest member here—" he looks over to Ninetales and Grovyle "—I'll likely spend most of today with him to get a better feel for how Octillery likes to battle. We've already discussed our basic game plan for the gym: Grovyle goes in to wear down everyone he can, then we switch to Octillery for clean-up duty, then Ninetales if things go really south. Flannery's team is strong, but I think we can take her for a fairly clean win."

Grovyle smirks.

Octillery nods along.

And Ninetales… frowns at being sidelined. Silent, telepathic assurance from Lee soothes her, but her frown remains. 'I understand your logic, Beloved… I simply don't enjoy it, is all,' she sends back.

Part of Lee still cringes at essentially offering Grovyle up as a buffer to make Octillery's job easier, but being the level-headed 'mon that he is, Grovyle has taken no visible offense to the otherwise logical plan. If anything, he seems emboldened that he is being chosen as the first pick in a Fire-type gym. 'I wish I had that kind of positive outlook. I know Grovyle is getting frustrated at his lack of inclusion in Gym battles, though. He was skipped over for both Rustboro and Dewford, then went down to the Baton Pass trick in Mauville. I hope this is a good confidence booster for him and not a letdown.'

"Right, let's begin, everyone!" Lee points a finger at the gecko pokemon. "Grovyle, you already know what you want to work on today. Once you feel good and warmed up, come to me and we'll give you Roxanne's Rock Tomb TM to even the odds for the Gym match. After that, we'll use today to get a feel for the new move and brainstorm uses for it, okay?"

Grovyle crosses his arms and nods, not quite keeping the eager gleam out of his slitted eyes.

"Ninetales." Lee's finger moves to his ace and best friend. "We're making good progress on the commissioned move. Keep that up for the first half of today, then we'll test your upper limits to see how long we need to keep our control exercises going."

Ninetales shifts on her paws. 'You've informed the Rangers of our intentions here already?' She vocalizes her question as well with two short, inquiring yips for Grovyle and Octillery's benefit.

"I have," Lee nods. "I gave both the local Pokemon Ranger station and Lavaridge emergency services a call this morning to inform them that we'll be out here and that things might get… noisy. They said to keep environmental damage to a minimum and keep wild pokemon out of any crossfire, and they won't have any reason to step in. Both seem reasonable to me."

Ninetales looks around at the barren 'training ground'.

The spot they found several miles outside of Lavaridge is sooty and devoid of life, having been subjected to a wildfire a few months ago according to a short chain of text messages with Flannery. The ground is bare dirt, the trees are husks, and there are no pokemon around. The edge of the burned area is recovering, but even then, the new trees are small and the greenery is thin.

All in all, the perfect place for a Fire-type to go wild.

Ninetales smiles. 'I think we can manage under the Rangers' rules.'

"Finally—" Lee turns to Octillery "—we're going to run you through some exercises, move tests, and a physical to benchmark your health. I have no doubt you'll perform well; this is more for my peace of mind than anything else."

The octopus puts on a determined expression, clearly eager to begin.

As the day drifts into the afternoon, Lee sighs and wipes at his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. "What a day, and we're barely halfway done."

With the impending Gym match just three days away, all three fighters on Lee's team have thrown everything they have into honing their skills.

Grovyle, with his mastery of Leaf Blade and X-Scissor, has been combining his know-how of Feint Attack and cutting moves to try and recreate Night Slash and expand his coverage. Much like Feint Attack, Night Slash is not a move anyone in the Sceptile line can normally learn. The limitation shows considering how much the savant-like gecko pokemon has been struggling to reverse-engineer the move over the last two weeks. He can mold Dark TE, but the energy only sometimes holds an edge when channeled into the leaves growing from Grovyle's wrists. It's much the same with his claws as well. 'There must be a trick to getting the energy to hold an edge. Dark TE certainly doesn't behave like Grass or Bug, but I guess that's to be expected,' Lee muses.

Between frustrating failures, Grovyle alternates between furthering his mastery of Quick Attack and getting used to Rock Tomb. Quick Attack's progress has begun to level off, leaving Grovyle somewhere between Andre's Absol and Wattson's Jolteon in speed. That's not the most impressive part, however. No, his ability to near-totally arrest his momentum and accelerate in another direction is what's truly impressive. Grovyle must be putting several Gs worth of stress on his body making such sharp turns or coming to abrupt stops with Quick Attack… Or Quick Attack is somehow shielding him from the worst effects of moving at such speeds. 'If that's the case, then I might have a newfound appreciation for the flexibility of Normal TE… Or maybe a better term is Neutral TE? No, don't worry about that right now. Normal TE is fine.'

Lee takes a moment to admire Grovyle as he trains.

Brows furrowed, the pokemon hisses and draws an arm back from his place about thirty yards away. In front of his open claws, a small rock begins to form from sand that appears from seemingly nowhere. The sand collects into a mass, forming a solid brown rock that grows larger and larger. Before three seconds have passed, a stone as large as Grovyle floats before him. Then with a grunt, he thrusts his forearm forward.

As if thrown by a pokemon thrice Grovyle's size, the stone quickly flies forward in a lazy arc, crashing down into the dirt with a mighty thud that can be felt in the soles of Lee's boots.

While the attack is a far cry from his usual blistering-fast assaults, the simple yet destructive power of hurling a large rock cannot be denied. If a pokemon were struck by the boulder, the resulting powdered bones would make for a very bad day.

With a deep sigh, Grovyle raises his arms, the green leaves of his wrists darkening with the power of his bastardized Night Slash. Then, with a movement so fast Lee almost doesn't see it, Grovyle races forward and slices into his newly created boulder as little more than a flicker of green.

Schink-crack!

The top half of the boulder slides away from the bottom to tumble on the ground, revealing a rough, uneven cut through the stone.

Grovyle huffs and shakes his wrists, which must be smarting after powering through solid rock.

Lee hums to himself and inspects the aftermath of Grovyle's other Rock Tomb attacks.

Around the field are a few other boulders, but the oldest ones have crumbled away into piles of sand. The newer ones all feature rough cuts and slices in their faces, all of which leak slow trickles of sand.

'I wonder… Is it Grovyle's inexperience with the move, or with molding Rock TE causing that? Or do all TE constructs decay rapidly? I don't recall water produced by pokemon evaporating quickly. It feels like the more I notice, the less I understand.'

Lee then turns to Ninetales.

Like Grovyle, his oldest partner is flexing back and forth in her training. Between bouts of honing her skills, she's been working on their commission for Flannery. After some back and forth over the last few days, they agreed on the move to present to Flannery and how best to create it.

Nearly on the other side of the field, Ninetales angles her head back, a sphere of rolling fire the size of a beach ball manifesting before her open jaws with a whoosh of hot air.

She narrows her eyes, leaning back a little more, then she lets go.

The fireball races up into the sky, then explodes like a magnificent firework. From the burst of orange flames comes a rain of smaller, fist-sized fireballs that scream as they fall to the earth.

Nearly all of the fireballs hit the ground behind Ninetales within a huge radius, each one exploding like a grenade and throwing blackened dirt everywhere. The staccato of explosions rolls off Mount Chimney and echoes back at the group, letting them hear it over and over until the sound finally fades. When the smoke and dirt clear, Ninetales is left standing in a field of shallow craters.

At first, Lee wished to make something tailored for Torkoal, but then realized that to make the move in a reasonable timeframe, Ninetales would need to do most of the heavy lifting and actually make it usable for herself. The restriction left them with moves that are forced to work within the confines of Ninetales' biology, but perhaps that's for the best for their first time creating a move for someone else.

The airburst fireball is what they went with. Working together, Lee and Ninetales formulated an attack that needs no 'programming' in order to accomplish its task. The initial fireball is little more than a weak shell to hold the actual projectiles inside while the attack rises to a target height of about twenty yards up. The outside of the shell is nice and stable, but the inside needs only a forceful touch to destabilize and collapse into harmless embers.

Inside that shell are numerous smaller fireballs not unlike the projectiles of Convergence. The tightly-wound balls are filled with dense, volatile 'liquid' Fire TE that is only kept from going critical by their more 'solid' shells. These smaller shells are hardier than the thin one keeping them all in a tight bundle, but a harsh enough impact, like, say, with the ground, jostles their contents enough to explode.

In the center of the firework-inspired attack is a much less stable fireball, one that, after some trial and error, Lee and Ninetales have successfully configured to pop at the apex of the attack's flight, bursting the outer shell and propelling the multi-ball payload to spread before gravity takes hold. The user only needs to angle the attack in the direction they want to saturate, and after flying up, everything takes care of itself.

…Though, maybe saying they have 'configured' the central fireball acting as the propelling charge is too much. It's more like they've figured out how to make a purposely flawed fireball fail and detonate at the most convenient time. True configuration would be learning how to put a timer on a stable fireball, something that eludes Ninetales when the move lacks her direct pyrokinetic control.

The move failed over and over in the beginning. Sometimes the central fireball was too violent and destroyed the payload in a gigantic conflagration. Sometimes the outer shell was too solid and Ninetales had to hastily 'toss' the ball away with her pyrokinesis before it came back down and exploded in her face. Sometimes something else happened and things went sideways. Despite all their failures, though, the move was finished in only a few days. Now all that's left is to refine it as best they can before presenting it for copying.

All in all, it is a functional and powerful move, even if its 'no programming' nature means it cannot be modified much. The discovery that Fire TE can exist in multiple states like liquid and solid is a worthwhile reward for the grief, in Lee's opinion.

Ninetales sighs and looks at her golden pelt, which is stained with dirt and soot. 'Lee, please tell me some of our upcoming training involves the creation of psychic barriers.' She wrinkles her snout in a display that makes Lee smile. 'Now that my fur is thicker, cleaning up at the end of the day is such a pain… I'd prefer to just block the grime before it hits me.' She shakes herself head to tails, dislodging only a minimal amount of dirt.

'I did look up methods used to train young psychics in making barriers, but…'

'But?'

'But it requires holding something flat and delicate like paper taut without ripping it as the first control exercise. That trains your brain to make stable surfaces midair.'

Ninetales audibly growls, her gleaming eyes turning to send a sour look to a mess of broken eggshells, yolk, and paper egg cartons ripped up in frustration. The mess has since been tossed to the greenery for nature to reclaim.

One exercise Lee has been having Ninetales work on is a simple one he read about online. Telekinetic control can be honed with simple, repetitive exercises that don't require much force. Something simple like moving eggs between cartons without crushing them is where many psychics too strong for their own good begin.

So far… It's not been terribly fruitful for Ninetales.

'You'll get the hang of it, Love.' Lee closes his eyes and pulls his fox into a mental hug, siphoning away her dissatisfaction with her progress. The channel between them shortens, and their raw minds touch as Lee wraps her in assurance. He's careful not to touch too much of his mind to hers at once, though, lest he trigger a mind-meld like they shared shortly after her evolution.

Telepathically, Ninetales melts into the embrace with a half-hearted huff. 'You evolved less than two weeks ago,' Lee continues. 'Don't let it get you down. You'll master your powers and I'll be there every step of the way to help.'

Ninetales is content to bathe in Lee's affection, then reluctantly pulls herself free to resume her training. 'Of course. I won't let you down.'

'You really believe there is anything you could do to make me think you let me down?' Lee physically chuckles.

The fox doesn't answer, but the surge of love that flows from her to Lee says more than words could anyway.

Something wet taps Lee's hand with annoying persistence, and re-opening his eyes, Lee looks down to see Octillery leveling him with a narrow-eyed stare.

"Oops…" The zoologist gives the octopus an awkward grin. "Sorry for spacing out there, Octillery. Let's use up the last of our targets then we'll all break for lunch, okay?"

Pacified, Octillery gives his tentacles a wave that Lee has learned means 'I'm ready'.

Testing the red octopus has been nice and smooth. For the past week, Lee has been brushing up on his knowledge of cephalopods and their health, and as he expected, Octillery passed this morning's physical with flying colors. Not that the lack of issues is surprising or anything, considering that he's spent over a week in a Pokemon Center. It would be surprising if anything was wrong with him after that.

Octillery's performance lives up to Lee's initial expectations as well. The three-foot-tall octopus is an utter terror at range, but cracks begin to show when he's asked to perform melee feats. The poor guy is by far Lee's slowest pokemon, as crawling about on his tentacles is the best he can do mobility-wise. With a windup, Octillery can jump a decent distance, but it's not entirely viable as a dodge unless Octillery has already read his foe's attack well in advance.

'Though, maybe reading an incoming attack and figuring out the best place to dodge to isn't that big of an ask for him…' Lee muses to himself.

Lee reaches down to the cardboard box at his side, seeing only five targets left. He picks two up and flips them between his fingers.

The targets are nothing special, being clay disks rather similar to the ones used in shotgun skeet matches. It was a surprise to learn that skeet is indeed a sport here on this alternate Earth, but like all other sports, everything pokemon related eclipses it by an absurd margin.

It makes sense to Lee. Sports like football can be thrilling, but even a mid-level pokemon battle beats out all but the most insane football plays.

Before Octillery can become irritated with him standing idle and not throwing targets, Lee clears his throat and winds an arm back. "Octazooka!" He lets the disks fly. One flies straight, and the other flies at an awkward angle off to the left. The left one is a bad throw, and it's heading towards the ground fast.

Octillery's eyes instantly snap to the spinning disks of orange flying by. He gurgles, and just before he fires, Lee covers his own ears.

BANG-NG-NG!

Octillery leads the shot perfectly. The bolt of ink shatters the leftmost clay disk into a thousand pieces before it can hit the ground. His eyes then take in the easier shot, and rotating himself slightly, Octillery sucks in another breath.

BANG-NG-NG!

The second disk is hit dead center and vanishes in a spray of ink and clay shards.

Lee picks up another disk and lets it fly. "Gunk Shot!"

Lee can almost see the ballistic calculations playing themselves out in Octillery's eyes. The octopus leans back slightly, then he puckers his mouth and spits a sickly purple orb that fills the air with the noxious scent of toxins.

Unlike Octazooka, Gunk Shot is far slower and heavier, arcing through the air like a baseball launched from a pitching machine. Regardless of its speed or less than flat trajectory, Gunk Shot collides with the clay disk with a hiss, coating the target in a mess of noxious purple goop. The mess falls to the ground with a splat, where it bubbles. The harsh poison of Gunk Shot strips the orange paint right off the disk before it eats through the clay itself.

Mindfully, Octillery looses a spray of water from his mouth into the poisonous puddle, diluting it into something much less harsh on the nature around it. Once the purple color is barely visible in the now larger puddle, Octillery cuts off the fire-hose of water with a satisfied gurgle.

"Thank you, Octillery," Lee smiles and places a hand on the octopus' head. "Even if the land here is already good and destroyed, we don't need to make it worse."

Octillery nods, then sends an impatient look at the remaining clay targets in the box.

"Right, right, sorry." Lee picks two more up. "Last ones. Ice Beam!" He throws both high.

Octillery responds near-instantly. From his mouth shoots a frigid beam of light blue energy that quickly lowers the temperature around himself and Lee. The sudden drop draws a shiver from the man despite the beating sun overhead.

Ice Beam isn't an instant laser, and the beam quivers as if experiencing some kind of instability, but it flies quickly and in a straight line for a hundred yards easily. In a burst of crackling ice, the first clay disk is struck and instantly shatters from the thermal shock.

Then, rather than end Ice Beam and fire again, Octillery simply sweeps the beam over the second disk, once more leading his attack so perfectly that there is almost no wasted movement. Ice Beam washes over the second disk, and it shatters into frosty shards like the first.

Octillery cuts off the beam and looks up to Lee expectantly.

"Fifty out of fifty," Lee chuckles and gives the empty cardboard box at his side a kick. "A hundred percent accuracy rating. Well done, Octillery."

The Water-type waves a tentacle uncaringly, as if saying that was nothing.

"Well, I found it impressive, at least." Lee smiles and picks up the box, tearing it down so he can stuff it with the other bits of kindling he keeps in one of his backpack's pockets. "I bet you're hungry after all that, so let's eat."

After a late lunch and a bit more training, Lee makes the decision to call it a day. Even if both pokemon hide it, Grovyle and Octillery are tired after a long day. It's only made more apparent when neither protest being recalled back into their pokeballs for a well-deserved rest, leaving Ninetales and Lee alone. Before they clean up and leave, Ninetales noses at Lee's hip.

'Lee,' Ninetales begins. 'We've been working on my finesse for the last few days. Now that we have this unused land, should we try to find my new limits?'

'That's right. I nearly forgot,' Lee responds. He snakes a mental thread into Ninetales, touching her core and realizing she's not even winded after today. 'I guess using the same move over and over, broken up with breaks, isn't the most taxing thing around. I'm game to stay a bit longer to help you try everything out.'

Ninetales' namesake appendages wave about with an eager enthusiasm to them. 'What first?'

"First…" Lee hums and slowly turns his head, spying a mostly intact, if dead, tree close to the edge of the greenery. The tree is wide enough around that it would take two men his size hugging the hunk of wood to barely meet fingers around the trunk, and it's easily eighty feet high. 'I'm no arborist, but I'd estimate a tree that size is at least a few tons, even if it's totally dry. Ninetales ripped a heavy door off its hinges by total accident, so shifting a dead tree should give us an idea of where she lies power-wise.' With a nod, Lee points to the dead tree. "Let's give your telekinesis a try. Give that tree a telepathic once over, and if nothing is living in there, give it a pull with everything you have."

Ninetales nods, her eyes glowing. Like a creeping stain, an aura of deep purple covers the tree, starting from the base and moving up. The distance of over a hundred feet doesn't seem to bother her at all. The aura slows slightly when it has to envelop the rickety branches, but in a matter of moments, the entire tree is covered. Some of the burnt bark crumbles and a few branches break when the telekinetic corona tightens into an ironclad grip, but the tree remains stable for the most part. Ninetales narrows her eyes, then with an effort Lee can feel secondhand, she pulls.

The tree groans and the ground rumbles as the dead roots fight to keep the tree in the dirt, but it's a losing battle. Ninetales screws her eyes shut, growls, and yanks as hard as she can once more.

With a ground-shaking bang, the tree, roots and all, comes free in a plume of dirt. The tree is dislodged so violently that Lee has to raise his arms and shield his face from flying clods of dirt that smack into him.

In Ninetales' ethereal grip, the dead tree hovers twenty feet over the hole its roots once lay inside, the network of gangly roots beneath the mass slowly dribbling soil back into the hole.

Lee lowers his arms, taking in the sight with his jaw slowly dropping. "God damn…" he curses to himself. "Nine, I expected you to shift the tree around a bit, but ripping it right out of the ground?" He shakes his head. "I didn't see that coming."

Ninetales clears her throat and slowly sets the tree down like a child might do a large branch. 'My apologies… I didn't realize I could do that,' she says, sounding faintly embarrassed.

"No, no; it's fine. It's a learning experience for everyone," Lee assures with his hands raised. "Was keeping that much weight aloft hard?"

'Not… hard, per se, but I don't think I could keep something of that weight up indefinitely. Perhaps several minutes before the strain begins to cause a headache.' Ninetales tilts her head.

"Alrighty." Lee looks over the uprooted tree and lets out a low whistle of amazement. "Okay, as for physical strength… We're probably going to need something more specialized than what we can use in the field. I've been meaning to get a radar gun for Grovyle too, so we'll put a number to your speed another day. For the last obvious test..." Lee looks around, finding no worthwhile or sturdy enough targets. "For your fire abilities, let's keep it simple for now. Try out a Flamethrower with as much force as you can put behind it. Aim it straight up, as I don't think there's really a good target out here."

Ninetales nods and takes a few steps away. She takes a deep breath, one that makes her tuft of breast swell, she leans her head back and-!

Lee hisses and turns away, the sudden light blinding him. Blinking, he reopens his eyes and gapes at what he sees.

(Credit to @OhKayArt for the stellar fanart)

From Ninetales' maw comes no simple Flamethrower. A roaring, billowing pillar of white-hot flames races into the sky, drying the air out and making the dirt around Ninetales' paws hiss and crack. The firestorm has enough circumference to swallow three men standing arm's length away from each other with room to spare, and it only widens out the further it flies up.

The Flamethrower keeps going and going, cooling into orange flames as it gets further away from Ninetales, before finally losing steam and sputtering out hundreds, maybe thousands of feet up.

Ninetales shuts her jaws after fifteen seconds, cutting off the raging fire.

The pillar of flame wavers, the last vestiges rising up before going out. Although the fire never actually reaches that high, Lee watches as the residual heat in the atmosphere eats away at the edges of several clouds. It's almost like watching cotton candy being sprayed with water.

Ninetales lowers her head and pants, the first pangs of exhaustion she's felt since evolving hitting her like battering rams. 'Ah, overexertion, my old friend…' she begins, sarcasm dripping from each word. 'How lovely of you to visit.'

'Love, if it's any consolation, then I don't think there are many pokemon that could take a blast like that and remain standing.' Eyes still skyward on the lazily evaporating clouds, Lee steps over to Ninetales. The dried-out dirt crunches underfoot as he kneels next to her and pulls the golden fox into a one-armed hug. 'Stamina might have been an issue as a Vulpix, but a Flamethrower only a tenth as powerful as that would have floored anyone you've faced in the past.'

The fox smiles and presses her muzzle under Lee's chin, tickling his cheek with her ears. Then one ear quirks and she turns to look at the horizon.

Lee follows Ninetales' eyes.

Coming in hot on the broad back of a smiling Togekiss is a woman garbed in the signature dress of a Pokemon Ranger. Even so far away, the irritation her tense form radiates is plain to see.

'I guess burning away the clouds counts as damaging the environment. Swell…'

Another three days' worth of training sun-up to sun-down pass, and the day of Lee's fourth Gym match finally arrives. The past days spent helping his pokemon hone their skills have left the whole team brimming with confidence for the fight ahead, and with Flannery's custom move done and ready for copying well before the deadline nearly two weeks from now, team stress has been at a minimum the whole way.

Zinnia and Courtney left a sleepy Brendan behind to secure a few of the Lavaridge Gym's sparse seats, leaving Lee to rouse Brendan and Marshtomp for the trip to the Gym, which they're on the way to now.

"So, you nervous?" Brendan asks, looking up at Lee.

The zoologist shakes his head. "Not really. Maybe a little anxious, but it's not anything negative. This'll be a fun match, I think."

When Lee says he's not nervous, Brendan's eyes drift over to Ninetales, who is nodding along to Marshtomp as the mudfish pokemon adamantly croaks about something. "I guess I understand why."

"Ninetales is impressive, but she's not the only member of the team," Lee clicks his tongue. "Grovyle keeps on improving with no end in sight, and Octillery has more than proven himself competent. He seems to have a different beam attack for every occasion, and that's assuming he doesn't just put the other pokemon through a wall with a tank shell made of ink."

Brendan grins at the imagery. "You know, you don't actually need to tell me how your pokemon are doing. I stopped by the Lavaridge Ranger station to take a look at local migration reports and was just in time to hear a lady ranger complain about "that son of a bitch Henson and his fox forcing me to fly out again." That tells more than you ever could."

Lee blushes and looks away in embarrassment. "They should have defined what counts as 'undue environmental destruction' better. I had Octillery cool off any slag we made before it could start any fires."

"Uh-huh, sure…" Brendan laughs. "So now that your super secret gym-prep training is done, when are we having a Water versus Water match? I bet Marshtomp can take Octillery!"

Marshtomp breaks away from his conversation with Ninetales to croak in agreement.

"Isn't your match tomorrow?" At Brendan's nod, Lee continues. "Let's give it a week, then. Don't think Flannery is a pushover or that your team will get away without injuries just because your ace is a Water-type. I'm already counting on taking a few days of recovery time for my team."

"I know that," Brendan crosses his arms and mockingly sticks his tongue out at the older trainer. "We'll win, though."

The two trainers and two pokemon make their way through town. By now, Ninetales is a common enough sight around Lavaridge that not too many people stop to take pictures or immediately get out of the way, so they navigate the crowded streets a bit more slowly than usual. After a while, they turn off down the unpaved route leading to the Gym.

On the quieter road leading to the Gym, Brendan suddenly speaks up once more. "Hey, Lee?" The boy asks. "What do you see yourself doing after the Ever Grande Conference?"

Lee blinks. "That's quite a bit away, so it's hard to say. Why do you ask?" He gives Brendan his full attention.

"Well…" Brendan rubs one of his arms with the opposite hand, seemingly unsure of what to say. "When we first started out on this journey, I kind of didn't have a goal in mind. I always figured I'd wander around, find neat pokemon, and discover something I loved doing like my dad did with pokemon and their habitats. Dad could have been the Champion if he decided to take on the Elite Four after his Ever Grande Conference win." Brendan's words stop as he looks down at the pokeball belonging to Marshtomp in his hands.

Off to the side, both Ninetales and Marshtomp let their conversation die out to listen.

"I did a lot of thinking since we got out of the Valley of Steel, and a lot of talking with my pokemon. From there, it became obvious. I've figured out what I want out of being a pokemon trainer." Brendan stares up at Lee with an intensity that feels out of place in the eyes of a child. "We're aiming for the throne of Champion. We're going to go all the way and use everything we have to get there. We're going to take dad's legacy and finish what he started."

Marshtomp pumps a fist and practically roars his support for his trainer with a bellow so loud it echoes off of Mount Chimney. His beady eyes shine with the same intensity as Brendan's, and if Lee didn't know any better, he would have said the pair are mirroring each other's emotions with telepathy.

Lee almost steps back. "Jeez, Brendan…" He can't manage any other words.

"And the reason I'm telling you this, Lee…" Brendan's fingers clench around Marshtomp's ball. "I know you're not the kind of guy who wants to be Champion no matter how strong your pokemon get. You're like my dad in that regard, so if we don't face off in the Ever Grande Conference, then I want a real battle with you, no holds barred. No matter how far my team gets in the Conference, or the Elite Four challenge, or even the Champion Title match, I know that once everything is said and done…" Brendan's eyes pin Lee in place. "A real battle against you and your pokemon will be one of the hardest challenges we could ever face. It'll be proof of how far we've come."

It takes Lee a moment to find his words. When he does, he gulps. "If a battle with everything we can offer is what you want, then consider it done… But you're putting a lot of faith in me there, Brendan…"

Like a flipped switch, Brendan grins and goes from frightful trainer back to happy-go-lucky boy. "Maybe, but I believe in you. You're a tough guy and a crazy good pokemon trainer. Some rivalry is good for everyone. Also, you never answered me about what you want to do after the Conference."

'Rivalry is good for everyone? Bah. Nice way to justify the threat to kick my ass.' Lee inwardly rolls his eyes."You're right on me not wanting the Champion title. If we somehow make it to Steven Stone and eke out a win…" He looks over to Ninetales, a quick conversation passing between them. "I'd probably turn the title down. I know neither myself nor Ninetales would want to be tied down, and Grovyle is in it for the glory of beating tough pokemon, not a title. I imagine Octillery would be neutral on the matter and Shinx probably won't care one way or another once she's old enough to understand. Whether or not we enter the Ever Grande Conference is still up in the air, really."

Brendan slumps and groans as they pass the open gates of the Gym and begin the final approach to the main building. "Maaaan, really? I think you should enter! It would be a huge prestige boost to the lab if we both make it!"

"I never said we won't, I'm just saying it depends on how the team as a whole feels about it once the time comes," Lee replies, taking the front door of the Gym and holding it open for Brendan, Marshtomp, and Ninetales. Following in after them, he nearly bumps into his fox when he finds her standing stiff with surprise in the doorway. "Ninetales? What's up wi-..."

Then he sees why she, Brendan, and Marshtomp were stunned into stopping.

In the lobby being sold a last-minute ticket by a flustered Gym aide is Steven Stone, the Hoenn Champion.

'Are you fucking kidding me?' The nervousness that Lee denied to Brendan suddenly rises up and digs its claws into Lee's stomach. 'I know he and the other Gym Leaders keep an eye on my matches, but coming here in person?'

The jingle of the bell over the door makes the Champion look over his shoulder, and when he spies the group behind him, he smiles. "If it isn't Lee Henson and Brendan Birch!" He takes the offered ticket from the Gym aide running the front desk and tucks it into his suit's breast pocket before stepping towards them. "You certainly took your sweet time, Lee. Your match is beginning in just a few minutes!"

"Steven, it's a pleasure to see you again." Lee sighs. "The streets were a bit congested, I'm sure you understand."

"You, uh…" Brendan stutters, looking up at Steven with stars in his eyes and a grin barely contained. "Y-you know who I am, Mister Stone?" He asks as if he can scarcely believe it.

Steven waves Brendan off. "Just Steven is fine, Brendan, and of course I know of you! You were one of the first trainers on the radar of myself and the rest of the Hoenn League this year. We've got high hopes for you."

Brendan looks as if he'd just died and gone to heaven, but before he can space out too hard, Marshtomp elbows Brendan's side and pulls him back to reality. "Oh," Brendan grins and scratches the back of his head. "Er, I'll do my best!"

"I know it," Steven smiles in reply.

"What brings you to Lavaridge, Steven?" Lee asks, wondering just why a Champion would be here and hoping to God it's not just to mess with him.

'I have doubts he's here just to stress you out, Beloved,' Ninetales sends to Lee.

"I wanted to see your match, of course!" Steven says brightly.

'You were saying, love?'

'...'

"Or maybe it's more accurate to say I was in the neighborhood and happened by at an opportune time," the Devon heir corrects himself after a moment. "My pokemon and I were taking a short vacation in the Valley of Steel, and after our R-and-R, stopped by Lavaridge to refresh ourselves before heading back to Ever Grande City." Steven reaches up and rubs the Mega Keystone in the pin of his left breast pocket with a drawn-out sigh. "If I had known just how many meetings and stacks of paperwork were involved with being Champion, I might have passed on taking the office."

Lee nods, then a thought strikes him. A risky one, but one that might save lives down the line. "Say, Steven? If you aren't terribly busy, can you spare a bit of time to talk after my match? I've got a few things you might be interested in hearing. I would have sent an email or something, but you never know what email filters might catch nowadays."

'Translation: I don't want anyone to know about what I have to say.'

Steven's smile remains on his face, but it cools into something more professional, telling Lee the man is plenty adept at reading between the lines. "I can make time, sure. I'll be here in the lobby when you're ready."

Lee glances at Brendan, who still seems to be so star-struck by Steven that he missed the unspoken words. "Well, off we go. Wish us luck."

"Good luck!" Steven smiles and ushers Brendan and Marshtomp along through the doors to the spectator seating.

Meeting Ninetales' eyes once more, the pair head through the doors to the arena. Already used to the routine, Lee takes a lapel microphone off of a wall-mounted rack of chargers and fits it to his collar without the young aide by the arena door needing to say anything.

"Erm, sir? And ma'am?" The aide says after a minute of staring at Ninetales. "All pokemon need to be in their pokeballs prior to entering unless Ninetales is going first. Master Moore's rules."

Rolling their eyes as one, neither Ninetales nor Lee fight the rule, and Ninetales is returned to her ball in a flash of red. Where her telepathy was dulled by the pokeball before, Ninetales' mental presence is powerful enough now that she only needs to put moderately more force into remaining connected to Lee.

'An asinine rule if you ask me…' Ninetales grumbles from within her ball.

Lee just pats the ball on his belt in sympathy.

They only need to wait a few minutes, as the aide by the arena door raises a hand to the radio in his ear and nods. "Right, sending him in." The young man's hand drops. "Mister Henson, you're up. Good luck!"

Lee gives the younger man a nod and steps through, blinking at what he finds.

The Lavaridge arena is made of packed dirt like the other arenas in the previous Gyms, but is larger than regulation, maybe thirty percent or so larger, and at the expense of seating room to boot. There are only four rows of seats on either side of the arena and they're utterly packed. Scanning the room, Lee finds Brendan, Courtney, and Zinnia up in one corner.

Brendan and Zinnia smile and wave down at him, and after a moment of watching the two next to her, Courtney offers her own short wave. 'For being in the same room as the Champion…' Lee sends a sidelong glance to the other side of the room. 'Courtney has a damn good poker face.'

Off to the right in a prime spot front and center is Steven. The people around all gape and try their hardest to pretend they're not staring at the Champion, and all of them fail miserably. If the Steel-type master is bothered by the attention, he hides it like a pro.

Finally, on the other side of the arena, Flannery stands with a severe expression on her face. The way her fingers twiddle with a pokeball gives away her true thoughts, however.

Unlike the other arenas that were always filled with chatter, Lavaridge is quiet as Lee takes his place in the challenger's box. 'Maybe it's from how traditional the Gym is? I wouldn't want to look out of place by making noise in a place like this, either.'

Off to the side, the referee, an older man in dark, striped robes steps forward and clears his throat into the microphone in his hand. "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen," The spectators go totally quiet as the ref's voice reverberates through the overhead PA system. "Thank you for joining us for our latest match here at the Lavaridge Gym. Today, Gym Heir Flannery will be facing Lee Henson of Littleroot in a three-on-three standard battle for the Heat Badge. We're pleased to have you all here as witnesses for fine young trainers and pokemon testing their mettle in the ring of honor." The intro is precise and without any fanfare.

"One moment, if you would!" A loud voice followed by clinking footsteps breaks the calm.

The double doors behind Flannery open, and out steps Moore.

Flannery turns away from the arena, and Lee can almost imagine her confused blink. "Grandpa?"

There, standing behind Flannery on the defender's side of the field, is Mura Moore dressed in a full suit of polished armor fit for a samurai. Much of the armor is red, with the chest plate painted to depict rolling flames. Under his left arm is a full helm with a faceplate in the exact image of a snarling Typhlosion, and on his right hip are six full-size pokeballs held in holsters of woven straw. The elderly man's glasses are gone, and on his face is a stern, stone-hewn visage that truly emphasizes his age.

"Flannery, my dear," Moore allows his face to soften. "After a last-minute decision, I will be handling this battle. If you would, please?" He gestures to the space behind the defender's box.

Flannery, who seems too shocked to argue, nods and steps away.

Moore smiles at her, then turns to glare at Lee as his face hardens once more. "Lee Henson!" He calls. "Know this before all else: you are recognized."

Sweat rolls down Lee's brow. "Recognized?"

Moore nods once. "In you, I see vast potential. The passion and love you put into your pokemon has already taken you to new and grand heights, and you've still so far to go! Your passion has touched something long dormant within me, within my pokemon, and only now do I realize how I have brought shame upon this Gym."

'Shame?' Ninetales questions, her ball wiggling in agitation. 'What is he talking about?'

Lee looks over to Flannery, then to Steven.

Both wear open surprise on their faces, so this wasn't scripted. Steven meets Lee's eyes for just a moment, but what Lee sees makes his blood run cold.

Steven looks concerned. Concerned for Lee. The scarred man swallows thickly. Even through her ball, Lee swears he can feel Ninetales' hackles rise.

"I have allowed apathy and age to form rust upon both myself and my pokemon," Moore continues, slowly raising the helmet under his arm. "My dearest granddaughter Flannery has already surpassed me in so many ways. Once this Gym is hers, she will take it to a level of glory unseen before, and this is something I know to be true in my heart of hearts. Truly, the youth of this era are titans that we old ones can only stare up at in awe. Nevertheless, I have shamed the Lavaridge Gym by halting our own progress in favor of the dreams of the young and inspired. My team, my first pokemon, Ty… I have done them all a grave disservice by letting their fire dim. We are old now. Twilight years are upon us, and no lamentations will allow us to do them over."

The helmet comes to rest on Moore's head, and slowly, he fastens the strap under his chin.

"We will not go quietly, though," Moore's voice reverberates hollowly through his helmet, and goosebumps break out along Lee's skin. "It's our time to step aside, to allow fine trainers such as Flannery and yourself to take the stage. We will not simply burn out, though. No, we will go out as true masters of the flame should! With a bang and a grand plume of fire!" Moore's voice rises the longer he speaks. "We have fallen from the ranks of the Elite, but the world will hear us roar one last time! Lee Henson, he who stands so readily beside the mythical, accursed Ninetales, I, Mura of the house of Moore, challenge you to a three-on-three battle for the Heat Badge!" In his helmet, Moore's eyes shine. "The full might of Gym Lavaridge beckons, Lee! Will you be found wanting?!"

'God damn it all with this clan and nobility shit…' Lee mentally curses. 'I knew this deal was going to come back to bite me somehow.'

Lee palms Grovyle's ball in a clammy hand. "Well, I can't really run away from this, can I? You're on."

Moore takes his first pokeball, holding it aloft with a toothy grin visible under his helmet. "Splendid! Most Splendid! Give me the honor of showing you what awaits!"

Both Lee and Moore draw back their arms as one, then two pokeballs fly into the arena.