Incarnated Whisp
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Chapter 63
🕑 Added 2024-05-22 22:51:44 +0000 UTCAuthor Note:
A quick warning for this chapter, about a topic brought up in the second half:
The start of the second half discusses a topic that Iâm not personally a fan of. Namely, it discusses the source of protein in the PokĂ©mon world and all that entails. If you arenât interested in reading something like that, then once you get to the midpoint break, skip to the next piece of dialogue to avoid those details.
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There was almost no downtime between the final battle and the awards ceremony itself. Sam shook Franklinâs hand and walked off the field, where he was almost immediately met by a nurse. She led him into a side room that contained a smaller version of a PokĂ©mon Centerâs scanning system. His teamâs PokĂ©balls were placed on it, and then they were released one by one to individually have their wounds treated.
Sam watched the entire healing process. To his surprise, the nurse mostly relied on Hyper Potions for this final post-battle session. Hyper Potions were ridiculously effective at treating wounds, so much so that trainers were told to only use them sparingly. Applying a Hyper Potion too often might not have obvious side effects, but it could have long-term consequences for a PokĂ©monâs immune system.
No, this was just a quick check over and treatment to make sure his team could be present for the awards ceremony. Everyoneâs wounds were healed in a way to prevent them from getting worse, but theyâd still need to rest later.
When the treatment had concluded, Sam left the room with his team snug in their PokĂ©balls. There, he found that the awards ceremony had already started. The field was gone. The lines and the damage from previous battles had been replaced by a smooth dirt floor, likely thanks to the work of local Ground Types. Where the field once was, there was now a small stage set up with a winnerâs podium sitting in its center.
Three people stood on the podium. A few more stood off to the sides. Sam recognized Edgar in the spot representing third, and a fourth trainer next to him on the ground. Franklin, having lost to Sam, climbed a small staircase to enter the spot labeled for second place. The trio of announcers were there alongside the head referee, speaking proudly about Franklin as he stepped up.
Sam quietly watched until he heard his name be called.
It was his turn to go up.
He emerged for the final time to the cheers of the audience. People shouted his name. His PokĂ©monâs names. They cheered for both him and his team as he stepped out of the lower tunnel and moved towards where the ending ceremony was taking place.
He felt as though he was in a daze.
Sam walked slowly and robotically. He waved, trying to hide his disbelief at what was going on. A little voice whispered in his ear that a win like this shouldnât have happened, but he fought it. His team deserved to win. Theyâd spent months honing moves and strategies and spent an entire week and a half going through intensive training just for this tournament. Sure, some of their strategies wouldn't work against a more experienced opponent, but this was a mid-level tournament. Why wouldnât they be able to place first?
Sam was welcomed to the stage by all of the announcers at once. They clapped for him alongside the rest of the competitors and the audience itself.
âAnd our first place winner, Samuel Greyson of Dewford Town!â Mr. PokĂ©mon shouted, his voice echoing throughout the arena.
Sam numbly moved forward to the center of the stage. Each person he approached turned off their mic to whisper congratulations as he shook their hands.
âGood work. Your battles were impressive, but perhaps you should strive to be on time more often, hm?â the head referee said.
âI can tell you and your PokĂ©mon truly care about one another. Your bond with your team warms my heart,â Nurse Joy said with a genuine smile.
âIf my father was here, he'd say something about wanting to battle you,â Falkner added. âI do as well. It's rare to see someone at your level fight with such a strong plan behind them.â
And finally, Sam reached Mr. Pokémon, whose smile caused the edges of his mustache to curl. He shook Sam's hand rather heartily.
âSam, my boy, that was an incredible series of battles, and what an incredible showcase of strategy by you and your team!â he said.
âThank you.â
âAnd what an interesting team you have, as well!â Mr. PokĂ©mon continued, leaning in. âI say, it is rather curious that you have a Quilava and a Primeape on a Ghost Type team, of all things. Do you know? Iâm not sure how much I can help you, but I've heard rumors of, wellââ
He paused and chuckled.
âNow's not the time. Go, stand and collect your prize!â
Sam slowly pulled back his hand, openly gaping at the man as he walked towards the podium. Mr. Pokémon had asked if Sam knew without going into details, but now Sam was curious.
Does Mr. PokĂ©mon know? About my teamâs final evolutions?
Hisuian Typhlosion was a species from hundreds of years ago. Annihilape was apparently common to a foreign region, but Sam had no way of knowing if that was presently true. He wanted to talk more, but the man was right. Now wasnât the timeâtheyâd be able to chat once the tournament was over.
A set of stairs brought him up to the highest stand on the platform, and the crowd once more cheered his and his PokĂ©monâs names. For now, Sam put his thoughts on hold as his heart swelled with pride.
Theyâd done it.
Theyâd actually won.
As he waved to the crowd, a close-up of himself appearing on the screen above the field, a few officials moved onto the field. As one final piece of the show, the prizes began to be handed out.
One by one, the competitors received trophies. Sam wasn't sure why, but he hadn't expected any to be involved. The trainers in third and fourth received small bronze cups, Franklin received a slightly larger silver one, and Sam received a golden cup the size of his head.
I canât travel with this. Iâll need to send it home.
It wasnât real gold, but it was still pure metal. The plaque on its base listed his name and âViolet City Tournament Champion.â It was material proof that he had won, but the prizes didnât stop there.
Of course, Sam was also allowed to choose from four TMs. These had weighed heavily in his mind across the entire tournament, as he wanted to make sure Redi got something for herself, too. He chose the Hyper Beam TM, a move that Ursaring would be able to put to great use. Meanwhile, Franklin chose Thunder. Edgar, having placed third, was able to choose Blizzard. The final trainer was left with just Fire Blast, but they seemed satisfied with it, at least.
The last prize was money. Sam held back a laugh upon seeing what was brought out. Two Xatu flashed onto the field with a Teleport, and between their wings was a comically oversized check. The number written on it wasnât a mind-blowing amount, but it was enough to support both Sam and Rediâs team for at least the entire next month.
âAnd to all of you that are still here and to all of you tuning in at home, thank you for watching! With these prizes handed out, the Violet City Tournament has finally concluded. Wonât you all give one last round of applause for every one of our incredible competitors?â
The audience cheered, and thus, the Violet City Tournament ended. Sam and the rest no longer needed to stay, but he was quickly approached by local business owners and journalists, all rushing on the field and trying to grab his attention.
Trapped, Sam was stuck warding off interviews and offers from people trying to use his and his teamâs likenesses to advertise their businesses. Edgar and Franklin both left rather quickly, but the fourth place trainer stuck around to chat with what seemed to be their parents.
Unfortunately, Mr. PokĂ©mon was busy. By the time Sam managed to escapeâhe answered a few quick questions, but none of the deals were worth takingâthe man had already left. Sam didnât get the chance to ask for more information.
But, before he could go himself, there was one last thing to take care ofâa picture for the local newspaper. Releasing everyone, he had his entire team pose around him. Misdreavus tried to flee, but he grabbed her. He held her in his arms in the center of the group, alongside everyone else.
She smiled.
Sam fled as soon as that was done with, not willing to use his own image to support a business he wasnât familiar with, payment or not. He returned his team and rushed into the lower hallways. His plan was to collect his stuff and meet up with Redi before exiting the arena building.
He ended up skipping a step, as Sam found her in that private dressing room. She practically ambushed him, jumping out right as he opened the door.
âYou did it!â
Sam didnât expect to be suddenly wrapped up in a hug.
âI should have realized Franklin was pushing for an Alakazam. Ugh, if Iâd realized he was going for an evolution like that, I could have warned you earlier! But Quilava was amazing! And then how Primeape fainted that Mr. Mime! And that jerk of a Hypno with Hypnosis! I want you to know Iâll punch that Natu for mocking Primeape if Iâm ever given the chance, too. And Misdreavus was wonderful.â
Head spinning, Sam had to fight to parse her words. Redi spoke so quickly it was like she had said everything within a single second.
She pulled back, smiling brilliantly at him, and Sam was left blinking. After spending a moment to recover, he laughed, holding his chin up high.
âYeah, my team did do it, didnât they? They managed to defeat Franklin without even using that many Ghost Type moves! You should have never doubted me, and now that I have this Hyper Beam TMââ
âI never doubted you,â Redi interrupted.
Sam chuckled awkwardly and looked away.
âI know. Thank you.â
He grabbed his backpack from the corner of the room, depositing his prizes and rolling up that comically large check. It wasnât real, only existing just for the show. He had actually been given a reasonable size check alongside it. He didnât have to keep the large one, but he planned to send it home to his mother alongside his first place trophy.
It gleamed in the light as he carefully aligned everything just right so it fit snugly in his backpack. He stared at it for several long seconds, just thinking about everything his team had done to get here.
But we still have the Conference to get through. Iâd call that our next step if we didn't have all those Gym Battles left, first.
His backpack was zipped closed, and Sam stood up, adjusting the bagâs straps. With this win, he felt like a real PokĂ©mon trainer, now.
âSo, someone said something weird to me when I was in the middle of that crowd,â Sam said, moving back over to Redi and closing the door of the room behind him.
âWhat happened?â
Something in Rediâs voice told Sam she was ready to punch whoever might have insulted him.
â...It was Mr. PokĂ©mon,â Sam said. âWait, hold on, I meanâ He didnât do anything bad, he just pointed out how weird it was that I had a Quilava and Primeape on a Ghost Type team. I think he knows about their evolutions, so I want to see if I can talk to him about that.â
âReally?â Redi blinked. âYou think he knows about Ursaluna as well?â
âMaybe,â Sam said with a hum, walking alongside her down the hallway. âOther than that recommendation from Dr. Hale, the Ruins of Alph were kind of a bust. Iâm thinking that instead of heading straight to Blackthorn, we swing towards Cherrygrove. Mr. PokĂ©monâs place should be along the way, and following that path should give us a nice break.â
Redi easily nodded in agreement.
âIâm down for an easier trip for once. Thereâs no Gyms in that direction, but we have time to explore,â she said.
âYeah, thatâs kind of why Iâm not too against a detour. This part of Johto isnât known for its strong PokĂ©mon. We might have to worry about not having any tough trainers to fight and make bets with, but the tournament winnings should mean weâre good for a while. None of our PokĂ©mon are set to evolve and need more food, and even with Misdreavus joining, her species still hardly eats.â
Sam might have been discussing money, but when he mentioned his winnings, Rediâs eyes flashed with excitement. For once, Sam had a feeling she wasnât thinking about cash.
He let out an amused sigh, shaking his head.
âSo...â she started.
âYou wanna go buy a bunch of junk food then teach Hyper Beam to Ursaring?â Sam asked.
Redi could hardly stay still.
âAbsolutely!â
Both of them ran down the hall, bursting into an impromptu race. Sam might have been tired, but he was willing to push himself for this. Spending the night watching Ursaring explode stuff felt like the perfect way to celebrate, at least until tomorrow when his team would be more rested. He had a Gym Battle against Walker coming up, made easier with his high placement allowing him to skip the Trial. At least for the next while, Sam expected his journey to be smooth sailing. He could look forward to being able to take it easy for once. After this win, it felt as though nothing could stand in his way.
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Jackson stabbed his fork into the steak and shoved a piece of meat into his mouth. When he chewed, he scowled.
Itâs overcooked. Too dry.
Heâd have spat it out if purchasing a real steak hadn't cost him so much. A security guardâs wage was a pittance. Heading to this restaurant was supposed to be a treat for himself, but now he was pretty sure he had just wasted his money.
He had been scammed. Meat wasnât what it used to be when he was a kid, just a handful of decades ago. The great farms of northwestern Johto could hardly be called great anymore. A slab of beef cost at least ten times as much, with its true price varying depending on how it was sourced.
In Jacksonâs opinion, too many groups had pushed for âhumaneâ treatment of PokĂ©mon. Now, if someone wanted real meat, it could only be sourced from PokĂ©mon that passed away from natural causes. It didn't matter that wild PokĂ©mon ate each other all the time. Humans? No, they had to hold themselves to a âhigherâ standard.
That meant lab-grown meat. Soy meats. Meats that could be regrown after being harvested. None of that tasted as good as meat from a Pokémon in its prime. Everything nowadays was too worn and tough. It lacked the tenderness it should have had.
Jackson took another bite, grinding his jaw together to force the food into something swallowable. As he ate, he did his best to ignore the sounds of a party from just a few tables away. He wasn't facing them, but he could still hear their shouts and cheers to celebrate a tournament that had gone so well.
For some reason, that head referee was popular. He was at the end of a long table, surrounded by the arenaâs staff. What Jackson didnât get was that if that head referee was so popular, why wasnât Jackson invited? Why hadnât Jackson been encouraged to come?
For a moment, he considered going over and butting in, reminding them of who he was and forcing them into an uncomfortable awkwardness. Then, he stopped that train of thought. He instead decided to not do that and distracted himself by considering ketchup for his meal. Itâd make the meat more palatable in theory, but the idea of putting ketchup on a steak made Jackson sick to his stomach.
Someone at the other table called for a toast. Jackson ignored it and took a swig of his drink before slamming it down on the table.
The impact caused his utensils to clatter. He let out a breath and stared at the empty glass.
He really wished he had more.
âExcuse me?â a voice said.
Jackson dragged his head up to stare at the unexpected newcomer. The man wasn't familiar. He was at least a full decade younger.
âMind if I sit here? I brought you a new drink as a bribe!â
Jackson was tempted to turn him down, but the younger man shook the glass of bubbling liquid a few inches away from his face. Trying not to smack his lips, Jackson debated shooing him away. But, when he heard a series of laughs at the other table, a single word slipped out before he fully realized what he was agreeing to.
âFine.â
Jackson snatched the filled glass from the other manâs hands and chugged most of it down. As his newfound companion sat, he could at least appreciate that the drink had washed the horrid taste of that steak out of his mouth.
âIâm Pete,â the other man said.
Jackson rubbed his temples. He really hated today.
âJackson,â he grunted.
âAny reason youâre off on your own? Iâd have thought someone like you would have celebrated with the rest of them. Didn't want to join?â
âWasn't invited,â Jackson said sourly. âApparently a security guard for hire isn't âgood enoughâ to celebrate with the likes of them.â
Pete glanced over Jacksonâs shoulder, and Jackson took another swig of his drink. There wasn't any question about it; Pete was definitely looking at the other men and women wearing uniforms identical to Jacksonâs.
âWell,â Pete said, turning back and tapping his fingers on the tableâs wood, âwould have been annoying to be around that many people.â
âYouâre telling me.â
Jackson finished off his drink.
A voice from above briefly caught his attention. A television on the wall of the room displayed an attractive young woman in the middle of an interview. She talked to a certain boy with piercing grey eyes. Normally, eyes that dull were easily glanced over, but there was something about the shadows of his hood that made his gaze stand out that much more.
Jackson scowled when he recognized who it was.
Pete, for some reason, smiled.
âDon't like him?â the guy asked.
âNo,â Jackson said with a growl. âBad experience today. Kid doesnât know his place.â
âReally? Tell me more.â
Pete leaned in, and Jackson hesitated. However, that hesitation evaporated when Pete waved over a waitress to bring him yet another drink.
He took a sip of it before he started.
âDidn't think much of it at first,â Jackson said, staring into the amber liquid. âHe snuck into a locked room. Went where he wasnât supposed to. Noticed that on the cameras and sent someone his way. No, the real issue happened when his friend got involved.â
Another long sip.
âThe friend attacked us. Had a PokĂ©mon go after a fellow guard without even blinking an eye. Tried to spin some lie about not technically ordering the move, but my coworker was still knocked out in an instant. And then after...â
âYes?â Pete said, the manâs full attention on Jackson.
âHad some kind of freak of a PokĂ©mon,â Jackson said slowly. âLooked like a bird if a bird was made out of rigid plastic. Did something with our systems before running away. Had to give chase and only barely caught up when we reached a dead end.â
Usually security guards had PokĂ©mon to help them, but that wasn't always the case. Jackson had a partner when he first took on the job years ago, but they were separated when people started to complain that Houndour was too âvicious.â
He missed that little beast.
âYou know, itâs funny you described her PokĂ©mon like that. I had a PokĂ©mon that looked just like that, once,â Pete said.
Jackson raised an eyebrow. Before he even noticed it, another drink slid towards him on the table. He hadnât even finished what he received previously.
âProblem was,â Pete continued, âit was stolen from me. Taken from right under a friend's nose. Sure, I hadn't expected to get it back in the first place, but it's the act itself that's offensive. People should know better than to take from responsible adults like us.â
Something rang in Jacksonâs ears, and he felt himself briefly have trouble focusing. The sound was quickly drowned out by the continued noises of the party behind him, and he rubbed his eyes and tried to get a better look at the man seated across from him.
Pete had neatly cropped hair and a suit like some sort of businessman. His appearance almost seemed purposefully generic. Jackson doubted he'd be able to point Pete out from a crowd.
âWhere did this happen?â Jackson said slowly, doing his best to pronounce each word before drinking from the newest glass.
âGoldenrod,â Pete answered easily enough. âBeen trying to catch up for a while, but theyâve been speedy. Thankfully, there're only so many routes they can follow, yâknow?â
â...Youâve been following them?â
Pete merely smiled.
Alarm bells started to blare in Jackson's mind. Something about this conversation felt off. It was almost too leadingâtoo goading. It wasn't just that Pete had approached him randomly, it was the targeted nature of his questions and the cruel smirk the other man kept failing to keep down.
Jackson knew he wasnât the nicest person in the world, but Pete shouldnât have looked that bloodthirsty. They were talking about kids, for goodnessâ sake!
âIs your name really Pete?â Jackson asked, forcing his question out through slurred words.
âNo, but does that matter? You won't remember me in the morning.â
Jackson had a baton on his belt, a tool that replaced his Houndour when his friend had been taken away. An answer like that would have seen him immediately stand up, but his legs buckled underneath him. He crumpled into his seat instead of moving, and his head fell back.
He could see it now. There was something hidden in the rafters of the ceiling. He wouldnât have noticed it if he hadnât fallen. It was dark, winged, and had a massive, fanged mouth that was wide open. He now realized thereâd been a high-pitched noise ringing in his ears, and though Jackson rubbed them, the noise refused to fade.
âThatâs Supersonic, by the way,â âPeteâ said. âIt took forever to train the move to be so targeted. Went through a lot of Golbat before finding one that could make the attack work. It was worth it, in the end. No one else can hear it. And donât bother trying to get help. I doubt youâll be standing anytime soon.â
âYou...â
Jackson slammed an arm onto the table, the only thing he could really do. Once more, his utensils clattered. A few of the other restaurant patrons looked his wayânone of the partygoers, of courseâbut no one who glanced over seemed to be bothered. After all, their eyes lingered on the countless empty glasses on the table. From their perspective, why wouldnât someone like Jackson be this clumsy?
âHere. For your time,â the man claiming to be âPeteâ said, tossing a clip of bills onto the table. âAnd thatâs payment for your information as well. Itâs nice to actually have confirmation for once.â
âW-what are youââ
Another ringing noise stabbed through his head, interrupting him before he could say anything else. Jackson grit his teeth, the world spinning. The bat Pokémon on the ceiling continued to silently scream his way, and everyone else continued to ignore the man who was clearly far too deep into his drinks.
âThanks again,â âPeteâ said.
The world turned black around Jackson as the batâs eyes locked with his own.
Hours later, he woke up to a waitress nudging him awake. His food and drinks had already been taken away, and the party behind him had vanished. He was dazed, and he could have sworn he had a conversation with someone. However, for the life of him, he couldnât remember who it was with or what it was about.
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Author Note:
Next chapter is an interlude from Rediâs perspective as she takes on Walkerâs Trial.
Pokémon included in this chapter:
Alakazam
Houndour
Hypno
Natu / Xatu
Mr. Mime
Comments
Incarnated Whisp
That's a good question. I'll go back and add a short mention of it to these chapters before they're posted on Royal Road. The end results won't change, but it'll make more sense when it comes to settling the placements. Thank you!
Runaway_Cactuar
why wasn't there a 3rd place battle in the tourney?
Incarnated Whisp
I appreciate the feedback! I will do that instead if a need for a similar warning comes up in the future. Thank you!
Forint
Yeah, I think that works. Friendly reminder tho, if you want to talk about something in the chapter, like "this chapter is darker than usual but the story is not headed in that direction". Best done in post chapter notes.
Incarnated Whisp
Sorry. The first portion of the warning can definitely be removed. It's an artifact of an earlier version of the chapter that was a lot worse. I toned it down but left in the warning since I still had the mindset of the second half being a lot worse than it actually was. However, the second part of the warning should still be present, in my opinion, mostly because I would personally appreciate a warning like that when reading a Pokémon story. Pokémon are consistently shown to have near-human or human-like intelligence. Eating part of a Pokémon's body is much more morally questionable than eating an animal's body. It doesn't quite match the overall feeling of Pokémon, but it's an unfortunate necessity of the world.
Forint
You did a disservice to the readers by putting that warning there. 1. I had a tougher time focusing on the first half in anticipation of the second half. 2. The darkness is *mild.* So I was left disappointed, I e, the content didn't justify the warning. We're old enough for non vegetarian food lmao. It's canon too.
Sea Bass
I hope we can get Basculegion on the team eventually. They are one of the only Ghost types i can think of that can be used as a mount. It would be such a cool way for Sam to get around
Bakerdea
I was thinking about my favorite ghost Pokemon, and I remembered Alolan Marowak. I find it unlikely we'd see one on Sam's team though, that'd be two ghost fire types. Unless Sam wanted a defensive tank with extra move coverage. Shame though, because I LOVE Cubone!
Travis Elias
There was a definite void in my routine on Monday. Nice chapter, keep up the good work
Steven
thanks for the chapte
