noah catches the winds of john's particular voice. although the receptionist is quick to supply him with answers, the gym leader's voice trumpets outward into the lobby.

"hey! did you say something about bullying, man?" noah jogs over. beside him, his machamp runs too. each of its four arms are bent, hands in fists to regulate the rhythm of their spritely run.

noah's short stature is still filled and triumphant. despite having no challengers scheduled for today, he's dressed in his gym leader's outfit: nothing special, just a league tank top and deep blue shorts.

"is that just your funny way of asking for a badge?" noah leans on his machamp's side.

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon machamp"]

John Sullivan

The youth laughed, turning around with a wide grin and leaning against the counter. He had been inside the gym for less than a minute and he had already gotten the Leader's attention. He could tell this would be a good day now!

"It was a joke, but I ain't a badge beggar, promise." He said, holding up his arm in scout's honor. Not that he was a scout or anything. "I could never be bullied anyway- people don't bully the homeless; it's in crappy taste, given all that's been happening."

The leader of the gym was a man about the same height as Doug, and about twice his weight in pure muscle mass. His arms alone made the youth thirsty for a Protein shake. His torso looked solid as a tree trunk compared to Doug's dying twig of a frame.

Pushing off the counter, Doug approached the man, waving and smiling at the Machamp before offering his hand at Noah.

"I'm Doug; pleasure to meet'cha, Mr. Faber. I was told I had to beat the gym leader in a cage match if I wanted the Knockout Badge." He said, before looking Noah up and down. "But I'm didn't wanna die yet, so I figured I should ask for help."

He winked at the man.

"Apologies for the candidness, but could ya teach me to kick your butt?"

---

TAG: noah faber

the machamp waves back with one of its slab-colored hands, while noah takes doug's hand for a firm shake. although the other's circumstance is disheartening, the gym leader does not dampen his own spirit in hopes of lifting the other's instead.

the other's joke inspires a laugh from deep within his chest. "like in a pokemon battle, or do you mean actual hand-to-hand?"

his machamp poses with all four hands up for a lock-up. a demonstration of the obvious.

"shouldn't we find you a place to stay first?" noah says with a small frown. "i'm sure we can find you a place to be housed, man. at least, maybe while I teach you a thing or two about fighting."

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon machamp"]

John Sullivan

Doug scratched his chin at the question, brows furrowing slightly as his lips pursed.

"I was under the impression that it was both." He said dryly. Had he been trolled by the Verdanturf kids?

Faber was so popular around the city some of his younger fans actively tried to scare away challengers.

Didn't matter.

"Well, this IS both a fitness AND a pokemon gym, right?" Doug said as he grasped his shoulder and began rotating his arm. "Fudge me up. I did sign up for the league, so I might as well make my own bootcamp if I have to, right?"

He tried to flex back empathetically at the Machamp, but there wasn't much to flex in noodle arms- like a toothless toddler attempting to replicate speech.

Noah was quick to interject with reason.

"Oh. Housing?" He said, echoing, his head tilting. "I did set up my tent at a nearby...ish campsite. It's not much of a trek from it to Verdanturf."

After having lived in a tent since the UB Invasions however, he certainly wouldn't have said no to an actual house, even if temporary.

---

TAG: noah faber

the gym smells of rubber mats. from the flooring to each corner, every face of the building rustles electric with the bass track of some popular hits radio station. john is right; although, the gym is not always open to the public, it isn't strange to see patrons wishing to exercise here or gym trainers practicing with their pokemon.

noah laughs, the other's bravado far outshining his physique.

"alright, buddy." he says. "bootcamp instead of a campsite. we'll get you a place to stay, but until then," noah looks around, his glance a confident disc of light swinging past the mechanics of management he has somehow enacted, "we can start. now."

his machamp huffs, its beak ajar in an eager smile.

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon machamp"]

John Sullivan

Doug grinned wide at Noah, grabbing the man's hand shaking it firmly once again.

"Thanks a lot, Mr. Faber! Ya won't regret it, promise!" He said, before turning his attention to the Machamp, his smile unshaken as he met the pokemon's enthusiasm with his own.

"If we can start now, then let's!" He said, holding out a fist towards the machamp. "I'll be in yer care, Mr. Machamp, sir!"

He had never exercised inside a gym- he had gym class, but he suspected what they made them do at school was not anywhere near the level of a real workout.

Looking around the place, filled to the brim with both fit people and people trying to get fit, he suddenly didn't feel quite as out of place as he had before- though his school's sports uniform still wasn't ideal. It reminded him far too much about class. He decided he would get something like what Noah was wearing.

"So how do we start, Mr. Faber, Mr. Machamp?" He asked as he rolled his arm. "Do I gotta wrestle Mr. Faber or Mr. Machamp? I would rather not die so quickly."

---

TAG: noah faber

noah pinches his chin as he examines his impromptu pupil. despite the abrupt introduction and lack of real preparation, doug wears appropraite attire at least.

"no wrestling or dying." noah beckons for doug. "yet."

he begins to move back into the heart of the building. a hallway leads toward a smaller workout room that his machamp follows him into. as the doors open, rubber mats and colorful foam blocks splash brightly against the grey hues of six machop exercising with their gym trainers. they look especially young.

wordlessly, noah dismisses the gym trainers. as they leave, the machop all huddle close to the gym leader. all smiles, limp arms, they appreciate the respite as they curiously eye doug.

"so, this'll be the first step!" noah says. the next line comes as a cryptic clue. "it's time for their midday naps."

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon machamp"]

John Sullivan

"Yet?" He said, echoing the man with a blink as he fell in line with the man, grinning at what he thought was a joke.

He hoped it was a joke.

He was led into a bright, colorful room that contrasted well with the Six machops and their gym trainer partners.

Doug tilted his head at the sight, his gaze wandering about from mats and foam to pokemon and trainers, beginning to get an idea of what this was all about.

As the Gym Trainers were dismissed, Doug held up a palm for them cheerily, getting a six hifives from them on their way out.

"I'm likin' this place already." He said with a grin. Six hifives and not a single one left to hang? Lovely people.

He turned his gaze back to Noah and the little Machops crowding around him. This was a pokemon even an exclusive bugcatcher like him knew well- Machamp and its line were mass favorites in Kanto.

"Put it up here, little guys!" He said as he squatted down, holding out his palm to them with a grin, before looking back at his new teacher.

"Nap time? So these are babies!" He said, his mouth making an 'o' shape before he turned his gaze to Machamp.

And gave him a thumbs up.

Nice.

"So what's my task 'ere?" He said, turning his attention back to the Machops. "Do I watch over'em?"

---

TAG: noah faber

small machop hands strike doug's palm. they're warm to the touch, torched by the ferocity of their practice despite their youth.

"you have to catch them."

the machop disperse all around the room. their reptilian ridges like streamers as they flee. noah's machamp sighs, as if recollecting a past it once had.

"they don't like nap time but," noah says, "if you catch them, they'll give in. just be careful. they like to hit back."

a gym trainer returns with a wheeled ball trolley. however, its canvas bag is empty, save for the small scraps of lint hidden away in its corners.

the trainer leaves as noah gestures to the bag: "once you nab one of these guys, drop them off in here." he laughs, flashing an enthused smile at the day's protoge. "i can help you out, if you want. feel free to use one of your pokemon too."

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon machamp"]

John Sullivan

"Catch 'em?" He said, echoing the man before grinning. "Well! I don't mean to toot me'own horn, but I am somethin' of a catchin' expert."

These cute little buddies weren't really bugs, but if he could capture a Heracross, he could manage this bunch.

He just hoped they didn't hit back too hard. He didn't think he needed to get further acquainted with the walls or ceiling of the place.

Nodding at the trolley, Doug began stretching, going through the many exercises taught during Gym Class before finishing off by soundly popping his fingers.

"Thanks, but nah! I gotta do it m'self!" He said, rolling his arms as he began to approach the center of the room.

A thorough believer of the Mr. Miyagi school of Martial Arts Teaching, he truly believed Noah had chosen this task for a reason.

Now at the center of the room, Doug crossed his arms over his chest before grinning wide.

"You there." He said, pointing at one of them. "You'll be the first one." He declared, beginning to march up to the Machop.

And then promptly moving to try and yoink another one that happened to be on the way.

"'ctually, you first!"

---

TAG: noah faber

noah jogs around john as he feints and fakes his way through capture. the first machop is captured, but it is quick to throw hooks— no jabs.

"they don't aim for the face." noah reassures, running in place, arms propped up in athletic form. "at least, i hope. actually, i dunno—"

the machop wriggles in john's grasp— but should eventually resign itself to being entrapped to its somnal fate.

"you said you were a catching expert, yeah?" noah asks. a machop leaps from block to block, laughing as it topples like a heap of potatoes. "is that your thing? catching all the pokemon you can? tell me about yourself."

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon machamp"]

John Sullivan

It felt pretty hard to Doug!

The youth wheezed as the first hook landed onto one of his ribs, almost folding like a chair while Noah jogged around him. Still, he mantained a psychotic grip on the little bugger, brow twitching erratically as he stared the little Machop down, panting with some spittle flowing down the side of his lip.

"_Noted." He managed to wheeze out, before breaking onto a sprint for the trolley, yelping and just barely managing to not quite curse the whole way there.

He considered himself a modern saint for not slam dunking the little shiii-y guy straight into the bag, dropping him inside before collapsing atop it with a gasp, holding onto his sides as his new teacher jogged in place back where he had started.

"I... dunno... if that's quite 'give in'." He managed to say between gasps as he turned around, propping his elbows atop the trolley with his legs fully stretched before him, breathing in deeply.

As a little Machop tripped atop a box and fell to the floor like a potato sack, the youth pushed off the cart and took four large, stomping steps towards it, throwing his arms around tightly- trying to pin its arms to its side as well!

"W-well!" He began to explain as he stumbled all over the place while holding the struggling brat, "Shi- I mean, crud! Er, I am what you call a... FUUU-uudgeee, er...! a Bugcatcher!!!"

He ended up screaming it as he shoved Machop number 2 onto the cart, panting in relief as he fell to his knees besides.

"Hooo... I'm a bugcatcher. 'More of a self-made entomologist than a collector, really!" He said with a grin, knowing well that he was probably giving himself too much credit there.

"But that doesn't bring cash... or healthcare. So I signed up with the League's Military; didn't need a diploma or degree for that. Just a... what did the recruitment officer call it? 'Patriotic zeal to serve my country'." He chuckled, patting his probably bruised stomach.

---

TAG: noah faber

"you can cuss if you want," noah continues to jog, only stopping to toss the occasional foam block back toward the walls, "i'm not the language police, man."

as a second machop resigns itself to an inevitable nap time, the remaining four become more frantic. although the challenge pits them against doug, the machop train by competing against themselves. whoever is caught last wins bragging rights, perhaps; the machop also wonder who will be the first to evolve.

noah refuses to pronounce the word entomologist with his own tongue lest he sound stupid.

"so you decided on bootcamp instead of studying bug pokemon?" noah stops jogging. "would you rather be a bug scientist or whatever instead, if you had the chance?"

his machamp tidies the room too. sounds of foam blocks slapping against walls echo in their little room.

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon machamp"]

John Sullivan