[attr="class","spiral"]As if the success of her plan wasn't enough, the praise from the other trainer has Birdie beaming. The earlier studying comment resurfaces in her brain. Pride swelling she shoots a cocky smile at the man alongside a double peace sign.

"That's just a lil' bit of my studies on display! Just watch!" even as she speaks she's scanning her memory for more material. If just emulating Bubbie's fight with Drifter worked once, why not twice? And the perfect inspiration strikes her as she watches the dark dragon rain hell on the Beh-he-yehm. It's probably getting frustrated about now, right?

"Bubbie, get ready to Lunge!" she shouts excitedly, and as if infected by her energy her Dewpider perks up. Bubbie makes little hops left to right as the smoke around the Beh-he-yehm clears. What's revealed is a pokemon on its last legs. Armor cracked and scorched black in places, infinitesimal bugs burrowing deeper into weak spots, it gives one last series of screeches before making a desperate charge forward.

It's met halfway by a LUNGE. It doesn't go quite as well as the INFESTATION had. The Beh-he-yehm's charge wasn't just a charge, the material on its forehead gleams with the sheen of a HEADBUTT. The gap in the strength between the two pokemon is large even at this stage in the fight; and Bubbie is sent crashing back into the dirt.

But, in the wake of the collision the wild pokemon teeters. And stumbles. And then falls. It got a good hit on Birdie's Dewpider, but it was ultimately too battered to take that LUNGE -- even if it won the trade.

beheeyem - telepathy
psychic // zen headbutt // headbutt // teleport


beheeyem was hit by draco meteor
beheeyem was hurt by infestation

beheeyem used headbutt on dewpider
dewpider used lunge on beheeyem

the wild beheeyem fainted!

[attr="class","spiral"]Shame, embarrassment, frustration, they collect in Birdie's stomach and leave her almost sick with their churning. It takes a big breath to pull her out of the post-loss feeling. She lets the breath out on a sigh; and reaches towards the bag hanging from her shoulder to pull out her downed pokemons' pokeballs.

She's only about halfway there when some particularly loud criticism stops her in her tracks. Birdie's eyes shoot up to find the source and very quickly land on one of the trainers from earlier. The winner, with his big green pokemon still at his side. Pure shock at this development keeps her from doing or saying anything as he passes her to reach for the crumpled notebook she'd thrown to the ground.

By the time he's paging through it she manages to get her wits about her, but it doesn't matter for much. The moment he shouts again she feels her muscles tense. She tries to answer his first question. Opens her mouth to speak (well I don't really --) but she's not even able to finish thinking her response before he's yelling again. She shuts her mouth, acknowledging it isn't quite her turn yet.

She takes in a sharp breath on a gasp when he tears at the pages he'd been skimming. She'd worked hard on those notes. . .

The rest of what he has to say, all of what he has to say really, grates on her. Grates on her the way all criticism with even a grain of truth does. She wants to get angry and yell something back or tell him he's being too harsh, but when he calls her an idiot and a wannabe it rings too true. So instead she sits there with her mouth shut tight and her face turning red and stinging eyes as he leans into her harder and harder.

Maybe that's why the moment he says something that misses the mark and gives her some space to respond she pounces. That's definitely why she's shaky even in the face of this very small chance to lay claim to some scrap of her dignity.

"Of, Of course I don't g-get a kick out of . . ." her voice warbles and cuts out, she's holding onto too much tension and she's not breathing deeply enough, "but what else am I supposed to do!? They, they, they don't listen! And I'm still learning!"

Far from the confident little lecture the man had to offer, Birdie's rebuttal is uncertain, and shrill as her namesake. It's not going to get much better either. As this goes on the knowledge that she's having this exchange out in the open only worsens the humiliation that undermines her words.

From behind the other trainer her pokemon stir. They rise to their feet shakily. First Drifter, then Bubbie, a little time and all the noise enough to pull them from unconsciousness.

[attr="class","spiral"]The studying comment rattles around in her head as she rolls about on the ground. She thinks about arguing that she has been studying, but it's probably not the time. And even if it was it's not like it prepared her for all of this.

"Agh, son of a --" she rolls onto her front before slowly standing up, arms still crossed over her chest and hands still massaging her aching shoulders, "Bubbie! You okay?"

The question is asked as she swings her head from side to side trying to keep track of the action that's broken out. Between the flashy moves and the quick decisions being made on both sides she struggles to keep up. It's only when the wild pokemon is caught by HEAT WAVE and hits the ground hard that she has a chance to think and react.

"You said you're alright, right?" she asks Bubbie again, this time actually looking at him as he stumbles his way back to her side, "Okay just a little disoriented -- fuck, my shoulders -- Infestation!"

She gestures towards the toppled Beheeyem with her head. INFESTATION, the move Bubbie used on Drifter, is the one attack of his she fully understands. It stopped her from returning Drifter during their fight, so hopefully . . .

After a moment to line up his shot Bubbie takes a deep breath and exhales. A swarm of small, nondescript insects pour from his mouth before encircling the 'mon-napper. It lets out a series of more irritated beeps and screeches as the INFESTATION begins to properly bite and pick at its hard exterior. A panicked TELEPORT fizzles out the moment it's used.

No escape, just like Birdie hoped.

beheeyem - telepathy
psychic // zen headbutt // headbutt // teleport


beheeyem was hit by heat wave
beheeyem was hit by infestation

beheeyem used teleport . . . it failed!

[attr="class","spiral"]Birdie reaches the bit of empty grass she pointed to earlier before waiting patiently for the other trainer to catch up. Full of renewed energy (riding the high of being accompanied by an ace trainer and remembering her type advantages) she can't help but bounce from one foot to the other while the man takes his time walking after her.

"Well, uh, Red," she follows his naming scheme once she also realizes they hadn't properly introduced themselves, "I guess?"

She crosses her arms as she thinks about the question.

"I mean, I don't know what else I'm going to do out here, right? I might as well try," she replies in a thoughtless tone, with the same amount of energy you might expect from someone applying to bag groceries. Birdie knows she doesn't have any great passion (or talent) for pokemon training, but what else is she going to do? Her options are limited . . .

Before she can dwell on the thought for too much longer, or an awkward air can crop up around her words, a series of shrill beeps and screeches issue from the treeline right outside the nearby ranch fence.

A shifting, purple aura wraps around the Dewpider hanging from Birdie's back and then -- woosh -- Bubbie is suddenly yanked into the treeline. He takes Birdie's coat with him. It's violently pulled off her arms with enough force to pop her joints and lay her out on the ground.

"Ah! What the fuck!?" she shouts from the dirt, crossing her arms to clutch at her shoulders. A few experimental rolls thankfully show they're still in their sockets, but they hurt like all hell.

beheeyem - telepathy
psychic // zen headbutt // headbutt // teleport


wild beheeyem appeared!
beheeyem used psychic on dewpider

[attr="class","spiral"]Slateport is . . . big. Much bigger than Fallarbor, or Verdanturf, or Rustboro. Much bigger than even Birdie's hometown of Sootopolis. Upon arriving it takes her only an hour to make her first wrong turn and only a few hours after that to find herself almost hopelessly lost in the city's upper district. On the upside? There are worse places to be lost in.

Usually a person is fearful when they find themselves directionless in foreign territory, but there was just so much to do in this particular territory that Birdie's wonder distracted her from any worries. A museum, beautiful parks, even a mall; she was given something to "ooh" and "aah" at every second one after the other. The latest (and perhaps most exciting) of these somethings was a bustling space around a fountain. Battles litter the area, though none with as much attention as the one right in front of the center fountain.

Curious, Birdie makes her way up to the crowd and, upon realizing she can't see a damn thing, through it. Her little 5'2" frame squeezes between people and even (embarrassingly) through a few legs until she can get a proper look at the event. It's beyond her, even once she's got her look, but it's amazing nonetheless. Four pokemon obviously stronger than anything she has going at it; and one trainer obviously superior. It ends in jut a few moments but they're moments unlike any she's seen in person.

It fires her up, and as the winner leaves to a mix of cheers and disappointed jeers she finds herself wanting to emulate what she saw.

---

Maybe she isn't quite ready for this, actually. In the spot where the veteran trainers had been battling earlier Birdie struggles to stay afloat against another young trainer. Drifter and Bubbie stand looking winded against her opponent's Zigzagoon and Meditite. By the time a certain stranger sits down to enjoy a hot dog it's obvious to any onlookers (were there any onlookers for such an amateur match) that there's not much time left for Birdie to make a comeback.

"Uh, guys, get in there!" she's thoroughly flustered. A small notebook in her right hand with her Pokemon's abilities and general battle plans scrawled in it is clutched too tightly in her sweaty grasp, and her mind is too frazzled to use the information it holds. A desperate call for some kind of action is met by both of her Pokemon, but quickly goes wrong.

As Bubbie moves forward on his insect legs he's cut off by Drifter. Not just cut off, beat back. A WING ATTACK better saved for an opponent is fired off by the Murkrow towards his ally before he takes off towards the Meditite. Having secured the one on one he wanted he attempts to bring one shadowy talon around for a FEINT ATTACK. The Meditite throws out an arm and intentionally takes the hit.

"Counter!" the other trainer shouts and Meditite answers. Channeling the pain from its injured arm into its opposite palm it makes one strong thrust towards Drifter's feathery chest.

The counter-attack catches the Murkrow as it's gloating and he falls to the ground, unconscious. Meanwhile the Zigzagoon has rapidly closed the space between itself and a still reeling Bubbie. It hits the Dewpider with one good HEADBUTT and he, too, is down for the count.

"Dammit!" Birdie curses under her breath as both of her pokemon hit the pavement, "Fuck!" her notebook joins them when she spikes it to the ground.


[newclass=.spiral]text-align: justify;font-family:calibri;font-size:14px; margin: 0 auto; width: 300px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.spiral b]color: #f8a8c2[/newclass]

[attr="class","spiral"]Any worry on Birdie's face turns to wonder as she watches the other trainer expertly handle this massive pokemon. Drifter will hardly let her brush against his feathers without getting indignant, so watching the interaction with "Indra" is no less than awesome in the most literal of senses. She is in awe.

Her perception of the man flips on its head in that moment. Far from the negative impression from earlier she now sees someone infinitely more experienced than her. She has so many questions -- how does he do that, how long have they been together, does he have any badges?

Unfortunately these questions are put on an indefinite hold as he brings up their quarry for the evening. It's hard not to flush with embarrassment as she realizes she doesn't know one way or the other whether his pokemon has an advantage against this Beh-he-yehm.

"Um, uh," her brain races for a path to an answer. What type could Indra be? Well its colors are kind of similar to Drifter -- lots of black, some dark blues and purples he definitely doesn't have but they're in line with a more gloomy aesthetic. So maybe it's dark type?

"Right since Indra is . . . a dark type . . ." and what's that strong against? There's only a couple, right? Her eyebrows knit together with the effort behind her thought, "Then Beh-he-yehm is a ghost type! Right! Yeah, she's totally strong against it!"

There's a pride that removes all the weight of confusion from her face as she believes she's cracked the code. That's how it's been getting the Tauros! Possession, no doubt! She's so sure that she doesn't even give him time to respond before jumping onto his next question.

"I haven't seen the Pokemon or anything, but I mean the Tauros haven't been going over there," on 'there' she points to a corner of the ranch eerily unoccupied by the milling pokemon, "Follow me! I bet there's a clue or something!"

Bolstered by her unearned confidence she takes off for the vacant bit of grass, jogging with Bubbie swinging loosely from the back of her jacket. Apparently he'd been climbing during all of this.

[attr="class","spiral"]"She said it's stealing her Tauros in the night, isn't that kind weird," she's lowered herself down to Bubbie's level to continue the conversation at this point, knees bent at a 45 degrees angle and arms hanging over top of them, "I mean, now that I think about it it must be kinda tough then, right? I mean Tauros are big if I'm remembering right . . ."

This directionless chatter continues, and when paired with the focus Birdie is giving to Bubbie (who is now seated in the grass, or as seated as a Dewpider can get) blinds her to the approach of the stranger here to help her. It's not until he lets out a heavy sigh that Birdie jumps to her feet and turns to face him. Expecting a professional looking (hopefully veteran) trainer; she can't help but be a bit disappointed in what she sees.

Yeah, sure, she's not exactly a picture of strength herself, but this guy looks . . . lazy? Sloppy? His loose body language and the sullen chuckle he lets out just scream "slacker" to her.

"Uh, yeah, I guess . . ." she replies to his question, failing utterly at keeping her disappointment under wraps. Seriously, how much help could this dude be? "Let's get al--" Her words and any other negative thoughts she was sitting on are cut off by the arrival of the stranger's pokemon.

It is big, and menacing, and it sends a chill right down her spine just looking at it. Even with her lack of knowledge there's no question the thing is strong. She can tell that Bubbie feels the same way. A sudden weight on her right leg lets her know he's scuttled up onto the bottom of her pants.

[attr="class","spiral"]So it turns out bonding with your Pokemon is really hard, actually. Especially when some of your Pokemon absolutely hate each other. It's been days since Birdie caught her Dewpider, Bubbie, but Drifter still can't bear to share a space with him.

"I just don't get it, I mean you guys fought but now you're part of the same team!" she whispers down to Bubbie who is currently wandering in circles around her feet, apparently enamored with the tall grass and the way it bounces off his bubble helmet, "But don't take it personally he's like this with me too."

Her comfort is both unneeded and ungenuine. Bubbie doesn't seem to care much for her Murkrow or his feelings, either, and at the end of the day the only reason she's talking to him at all (to comfort him or otherwise) is because she's anxious.

Since she can't train with Bubbie and Drifter at the same time she's been alternating between them while trying to get a handle on what they can do. These training sessions are often unproductive and uneventful, but today she was spotted by a rancher who came up to her in a desperate huff.

Apparently some Beh-he-yehm have been hassling her livestock and she needs a trainer to fix the problem. Of course Birdie isn't the girl for the job. She doesn't know what a Beh-he-yehm is and she's hardly a trainer given her lack of experience, but for some reason she said yes. No, not for some reason. Because she would have felt foolish admitting she'd be no help and guilty to turn down someone so obviously in need.

"I mean it can't be that hard, right? It's just one Pokemon. You were just one Pokemon and I beat you!" she continues her whispered rambling and this time Bubbie even looks up to listen. Of course he has no answers -- though he does seem to take some issue with her wording; chittering a little at the end of her statement.

Well, whatever. The rancher said she has another trainer to help with the job, too. So if it's not already a done deal with just her, another set of hands (and Pokemon) ought to clinch it. Right?

[attr="class","spiral"]"Agh, dude, claws, c'mon," Birdie grunts the words out between the scratching steps of her Murkrow but, like most things, they fall on deaf ears. Drifter gives her a look as if to let her know her fresh scrapes are the debt owed for ruining his fun before settling on her shoulder again. Once she's sure he's done moving around she gets back to walking through the cave.

"I'm serious Drifter, we're partners now," she tries to talk to him as she navigates a slippery incline, "I know we didn't get off on the best foot but we need to look out for each other! What's that line from my book . . ." she hits the bottom of the incline and stops to think, hands on her hips.

"Right, 'In their natural state, Pokemon are wild living things. They are free. Pokemon touch the good hearts of Trainers and learn right from wrong. They touch the good hearts of trainers and grow strong'," she recites it like a professor, the one quote she has memorized from the pilfered books in her bag, "So just listen to me and stop being such a dick!"

While momentarily interested, Drifter kicks off from her shoulder again at that last comment. Birdie huffs and rolls her eyes. Whatever, she knew reasoning with this brat wasn't possible. She follows him at a light jog as he once again hops off without her, and once again comes to a stop as he finds something in the pools worth staring at.

"What? Find another Pokemon?" she asks before reluctantly following his line of sight. The last thing that caught his eye was that scary fish, and she doesn't relish the idea of putting up with another one of them -- no matter how little Drifter had been threatened. Those teeth just looked nasty.

But her eyes light up this time when she sees what he sees. A small group of big headed somethings skate by on the water's surface. Their little legs flex as they propel themselves forward, and over their heads a sturdy bubble warps and wiggles with each shift of their weight. As they pass one of them locks eyes with Drifter. Distracted, it stops following the others to stare.

Drifter watches without moving for a bit, but then his eyes swivel. The group makes their way down a waterfall and leaves their curious compatriot alone. It's the moment Drifter was waiting for, the Murkrow lifts off before swooping down at his unsuspecting prey. Dark talons lash out for a FEINT ATTACK on its head.

"Drifter," she tries to scold him from the shore, but he won't be deterred this time. His talons dig through the bubble to scratch the wild pokemon's face. The pokemon flinches but the bubble doesn't pop, instead closing up curiously around Drifter's leg. In the moment he's distracted by this phenomenon his opponent exhales something. Suddenly he's flapping wildly in the air, cawing in frustration as a spotaneous INFESTATION eats at the flesh under his feathers.

"Ah! Uh, get back here!" realizing a real battle is breaking out Birdie tries to do what she did last time and just make Drifter come back, but he doesn't listen, "God would you just . . . Return!" she fishes for his pokeball, rifling through her bag for a moment before pulling it out and holding it in his direction. A red capture light bursts from within it, but suddenly peters out once it comes within a foot of the Murkrow.

"Fuck, uh, can you hear me?" she shouts at him as he tumbles out of the sky and scrabbles against the wet, stone floor of the cave. He shoots her a glare. Okay, so he can.

"Uh, those are bugs eating at you right? Maybe uh, maybe it's a bug?" for a moment Drifter seems to give her his attention, but as she stumbles over her words she watches his attention begin to shift back to their opponent, "Woah woah! Okay, sorry, my point is uh . . . Wing Attack? Try a Wing Attack!"

Birdie cringes as she gives the order. It's her first time directing a battle and she sounds so lame doing it! Thankfully, Drifter seems used to her lack of flare in all things and is angry enough to accept any idea thrown his way. He takes to the air again, shakily still on account of the continued INFESTATION, and tries to swoop on the pokemon again. It's too straightforward, the bug LUNGES to meet his approach.

Its attack clashes with Drifter's WING ATTACK. They trade blows. Both stumble back, the bug into the water and Drifter back to the shore. The wing he met the LUNGE with spasms slightly.

Wanting to run more than fight, their opponent takes those spasms as its cue to leave and begins to shoot for the waterfall.

"Just let it --" she starts to order another retreat, but for the second time Drifter refuses to listen. At the sight of the fleeing pokemon he takes off. Injured wing or no he'll be damned if he lets it get away so easily. He thrusts his talons forward as he swoops in. His dogged PURSUIT catches it right before it can leap down the waterfall. Angrily, he flings the bug out of the water and towards the shore. It skids across the stone before stopping still a second later.

"Oh, wow," the words leave on an exhale as Drifter returns, breathing heavily and clutching his wing hard to his side. He begins to approach the downed pokemon with a dangerous look in his eyes . . . Birdie quickly chucks a pokeball on top of it. When he glares up at her she shoots him an anxious smile.

"Spoil of victory?" she asks as the pokeball shudders. He huffs and looks away.

[attr="class","spiral"]Despite the rocky start to their journey, Drifter is surprisingly agreeable as they enter the cave proper and begin to travel through it. Which is good because Birdie struggles to keep her attention on him once she sees the interior. To call it beautiful would be rude, it's gorgeous. Captivating.

The way the waterfalls crash, and pool, only to crash again deeper into the cavern. The way the pools themselves sparkle and the glass-like stillness to them. She doesn't realize she's holding her breath until the feeling of her Murkrow shoving off from her shoulder presses it out of her.

"Drifter, a warning next time!" she whisper shouts at him as he lands near the edge of the still water. He doesn't respond, just gazes into the water like he's watching something. ". . . uh, Drifter? What do you --" the word "see" goes from the tip of her tongue to stuck somewhere in her throat when a Pokemon leaps from the water. It takes a snap at her Murkrow, but he slyly side-steps it.

"Ah, uh," her brain races as she thinks of what to do. In the meantime the wild Pokemon acts again. It opens its mouth and a set of shimmering fangs appear in the air. They attempt to latch down on Drifter but flicker and vanish instead upon meeting his feathers. He laughs at that, a raucous series of crows and honks.

"Come here!" she finally settles on an order and Drifter looks at her like she's asked him to throw away a new toy, "I mean it, I don't wanna mess with that!"

He only half listens, delaying his return long enough for the wild Pokemon to attempt another ineffectual attack. He's still chuckling as he climbs up her shirt. And he climbs, scratching her through the fabric with his talons. It's not bad enough to bleed but Birdie is sure it's intentional.

[attr="class","spiral"]Drifter is shameless in his flagrant disregard for both general rules and his master's orders. As she tries to stammer out something he'll listen to he just keeps going. The oran berry slowly vanishes, and once it's gone he begins to hop up towards the specific tree Birdie is working on. His eyes carefully watch her right foot, which already hovers in the air ready to shoo him back.

"Try me you brat," she challenges through her teeth, no longer bothering to make orders, "I've been nice so far but don't think I won't pu--"

The other girl walks up as she's delivering her threat. Birdie doesn't immediately notice her, but the moment she does her foot lowers and she does her best impression of someone who totally has control of their Pokemon and definitely knows what they're doing. She turns her eyes to her before replying.

"Ah, no, I mean, he's just being difficult today I'm sure he'll --" again she's cut off, but this time by the distinct sound of a stem breaking. Her eyes snap down to see Drifter looking up at her with another oran in his beak. She swears to god he's smirking at her. As he hops away Birdie visibly deflates before looking at the new arrival with a pleading look.

"I mean, if you think it'll help . . ." she murmurs in a defeated voice. For his part Drifter seems satisfied with his second stolen berry and barely glances in the direction of the woman speaking to his trainer, dropping it in preparation of his second snack.

[attr="class","spiral"]Working isn't something Birdie's super excited about doing but when you've got to you've got to. Leaving with limited cash and only, like, two day's worth of food (if you could call mostly nutrient-poor dollar store snacks "food") made doing an odd job here and there really damn important actually. Especially when that job came with a paycheck plus a bonus in the form of some very nutrient-rich berries.

Nutrient-rich berries that Drifter seems intent on pilfering ahead of schedule.

"Dude, would you just, dude," she tries to get his attention as he gently grabs an oran berry between the halves of his beak. He looks at her on the first "dude", bites down, and then is dodging her gently waving foot on the second, "Put it down! You're gonna get us in trouble!"

She hisses the command at him but he's not listening. Instead he flies a foot out of range and starts going to work himself, tearing the berry apart and eating it one juicy bite at a time. She can feel her face going red as he does it, but there's nothing she can do. The basket she's gathering berries in has her hands full and she can't properly grip a pokeball with these gloves on.