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Beau lifted the sunglasses from his face as he approached what should have been the beach. He knew he'd been probably a little too optimistic when he'd gotten the dispatch notification to clear up an infestation of Poison-type pokemon from the area, but seeing the sludgy mire that had resulted from the outbreak was still more than he'd expected by far.
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"Oh, hey!" he called, waving back at Gunner Graves as he approached, a grin coming to his face despite the circumstances. "Yeah, you too, brah - takes more than some monster t'take us down, right?" He extended his fist to the other, obviously expecting a bump of some kind.
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Behind him, a small ursine pokemon tottered along the path to catch up, small limbs windmilling until he came to rest just beside Beau. The Kubfu paused, breathing heavily, before leaning backward to look at Gunner's face with a determined expression. Bringing up the rear was Torben the Pangoro, who regarded Gunner with a single grunt before nudging the Kubfu with one foot.
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The Kubfu started forward, surprised, and dropped into what was obviously a rehearsed martial bow to Gunner with a grunt that sounded almost more like a squeak. Torben nodded, satisfied.
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Beau watched this exchange with an amused grin, clarifying to Gunner: "Torben's the big guy, an' Orson's his little pal. We found him shiverin' half to death, so Torben's takin' him under his wing. Seems to be enjoyin' it so far," he laughed.
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Beau surveyed the area briefly, his mirth dissipating as he took in the magnitude of the job they had before him. "Shoot, this is a mess," he sighed. "Think we oughtta try t'clear out the critters first, see if we c'n disperse the source before it gets any worse. What're you thinkin'?" he inquired of the other man with a raised eyebrow.

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"Works for me, brah! Race you to the middle!" Beau offered with a grin and a cheerful thumbs-up to the other man.
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With a jaunty wave, the trio were off, Orson practically jogging to keep up with the longer strides of his larger companions. Beau guided his pokemon westward around the perimeter of the fetid area, and came to a stop on a sandy bluff overlooking a particular virulent pair consisting of a Varoom and a Weezing, both spewing noxious fumes through the immediate area.
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"Alright, brah and little brah," Beau began seriously, looking from Torben to Orson in turn, "Be careful out there, watch each other's backs, and focus on one at a time. Don't get surrounded, but don't get too cocky, either, or you'll get sick!" He made a gagging noise and gripped his stomach as though to illustrate the process of becoming poisoned, and Orson's face lit up in recognition before the Kubfu offered a determined nod.
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Beau returned the nod, satisfied, and flashed another thumbs-up. "Alright, let's do it! We're clearing out our half first!"
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Torben nodded and turned to Orson, grunting. Orson snapped to an attentive pose, and Torben surveyed him closely before nodding slowly. Adopting a wider stance, Torben snarled as he flexed his muscles, BULKING UP, and like a tiny mirrored reflection, Orson did the same before launching off the bluff, landing a BRICK BREAK on the unsuspecting Varoom that sent the steel-type spinning into a heap of mud nearby.
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As Torben joined the fray, Beau cheered and followed behind. "Attaboys, get 'em good and let's clean this place up!"

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Beau let his pokemon lead, bringing up the rear of their trio as they made their way inward from the edge of the newly-blighted swamp. He couldn't help but grin as he watched the two bears, one large and one small, work in tandem to incapacitate the sudden influx of Poison-type pokemon responsible for the drastic shift in environment.
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Orson would strike with an inexpert punch or chop, and though mostly effective, Torben would inevitably draw up behind the smaller bear, nudging the Kubfu's leg or arm to correct his form before he struck again. It was heartwarming to see the older teach the younger, and for a moment Beau was able to quash that niggling voice at the back of his mind that said he wasn't good for more than teaching his pokemon bench presses, and that a cast-off pokemon like Orson would have been better off wandering into some frozen warren in the mountains than being given a home with him.
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Well, Orson had a family, and they were doing just fine, so take that, you stupid voice.
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Beau wandered behind the pair as they steadily and methodically cut a path through the swamp, tossing pokeballs at the fallen Poison-types and dropping them into his satchel. He'd relocate them after the mission was complete to a more compatible biome, because leaving them here wasn't an option.
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Across the way, Beau could see Gunner and his pokemon doing the same, and he grinned - chores were always more fun when you could make them a game, and he was for sure gonna win this one.
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As Torben laid into a particularly vicious Arbok, a Weepinbell leapt up from the sludge toward Orson. Unable to reorient in time, the little bear opened his jaws to yelp and exhaled a cloud of FROST BREATH that crackled across the offender's surface, sending it toppling to the ground, frozen solid.
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"Whoa," Beau commented, swiftly capturing the fallen Weepinbell and depositing it with its wayward fellows, "Brah, that's a heck of a trick. You learn that up in all the snow?"
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Orson nodded affirmatively, his eyebrows furrowed with focused determination before turning to continue his battle, jogging to catch up with Torben.
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Beau sighed, unable to keep his proud grin from persisting. They really did grow up so fast.

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Beau supposed that this was what it felt like to really train a pokemon from the ground up, rather than simply have them accompany him on his various hijinks. Orson's progress was undeniable, and Beau felt something like pride swell in his chest as he watched the little cub lead Torben through the muck, dispatching the pokemon they found on their way.
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When he got close enough to Gunner's position to hear the man shout, he glanced around, frowning. "You're right," he called back before turning to survey the area he'd already cleared. Not a Poison-type in sight, and yet the sludge and muck remained as though pooling from some other source.
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He wheeled back around and jogged to catch up to his pokemon as they reached the center of the area, brow furrowed. "Hang on, kids," he murmured to his bears, recalling them into their respective pokeballs before tossing another, his Swampert materializing.
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"What if they're hiding?" he inquired almost absently, turning his head toward Gunner and nudging his chin toward Nemo questioningly. "Come on, brah, let's shake it up a little."
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He lifted his arm, the bracelet around his wrist shimmering, and a cocoon of energy surrounded Nemo before he burst forth with a Mega Evolution. Rearing back, he unleashed an EARTHQUAKE that rumbled through the ground forward and away from their current position, causing the earth and sand to crack and buckle as the accumulated pools of poison bubbled. As the sands parted, the sludge suddenly seemed to grow eyes. Gross.
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Wait, it wasn't growing eyes, those were Grimer and Muk revealed by the upset of the earth, flailing and flowing amorphously in foul conglomerations.
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"Eugh," Beau commented, wrinkling his nose. "Hit 'em again, brah!"
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Nemo let out a satisfied grunt before bounding forward to repeat his attack. This ought to be fun.

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Between Nemo and Gunner's Steelix and Baltoy, what could have been the catastrophic revelation of numerous Poison-types hiding beneath the muck instead turned into a one-sided free-for-all, and the offenders didn't stand a chance.
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When the fighting was complete and the unconscious sludges had been loosely herded into a singular pile, Beau grinned and offered Gunner a fistbump, shaking his head. "Nah, brah, I got it from here. Thanks for the help, that coulda gotten hairy!"
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Nemo grunted in assent, though a wide smile split the Swampert's features as he surveyed the results of his work, thumping one huge arm on the ground in satisfaction. Beau, for his part, cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders experimentally, as though readying for the work ahead.
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"I got the report too, no worries. Man, we oughtta grab a drink sometime," he chuckled ruefully, elbowing the other man good-naturedly. "You seem like a cool guy an' all, but it'd be nice to hang out without somethin' or other tryin' t'kill us, you think?"
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He thought so, anyway, and with that thought began the slow process of collecting the remaining Poison-types for processing and rehoming. This was, he figured, the kind of thing he could get used to.

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