AN: Here's the interludes we were discussing and voting on!
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Kanto → Trainers → Sabrina → Megathread
Topic: Everything about the human psychic Sabrina and her gang of Kadabra
Original Poster: League_Account_Official
(Showing page 13/16)
►Purplehead
I can’t fucking believe that she just beat all the main gyms in Kanto in the third month of the season. Our queen :P;P;P;P;PP;P:P:P:P:P:P:P:P
►Fearfactor (Verified Ace)
Those who have fallen to her are many. King, Blaine, Koga, Giovanni. I wish I had that run when I was first starting as a trainer.
►Keng (Verified Trainer)
To be fair, she was a youngster before, and sources seem to indicate she received her Abra prematurely to stabilise her condition, so the achievement is impressive, but not as much as it sounds.
►Dope (Verified Trainer)
@Keng Face it, she’s just a monster nobody this conference will be able to face. I’m not even sure about the older trainer bracket. It’s just a done deal.
►JFK
She has an unfair advantage with the possibility of telepathy. It’s not against the rules, but it's nasty. Kinda feel bad for the kid she smacked around in that youngster tournament in hindsight.
►NOPEISNOPE (Verified Trainer)
Yeah, for real, how are we even supposed to know that she’s not using minor amounts of her powers to shift results?
►+Webb
Can you guys screw off? She was born with psychic powers, buhu some have other talents. If she was born smarter, nobody would complain.
►Friendly ghost (Verified Trainer)
@Keng @Dope @JFK
I fall by the strikes that I have thrown,Defeat is a debt clearly my own.The world is cold, no disguise,It shows the truth, no drop of guise.
In this loss, I plant my stubborn will,to rise, learn, sharpen a lack of skill.Failure’s weight is how the strong are made,As long as it takes, I’ll fail my way up life and swing my blade
►NOPEISNOPE (Verified Trainer)
@friendly ghost What the fuck are you talking about?
►Friendly ghost (Verified Trainer) (Banned)
STFU, you wouldn’t know true art if it deepthroated your dad. Poetry is an outburst of emotion towards a higher purpose. Can’t handle it, then suck my huge fucking -
(user was banned for this post)
Several people are typing…
-/-
The currently on vacation tax official, Columbus, hefted his girthy body, stone by stone, ridge by ridge onto the cliff in front of him.
One hour, two hours, three hours is how long it took him to scale the behemoth overlooking the eastern coast of Lavender, which housed, among many other things, Elite Four Agatha’s domicile.
Once he’d reached the top, harsh dark winds buffeted his brown trenchcoat and nearly ripped off his fedora. He stayed resolute and dignified, pulling off his backpack and pulling out a rather large telescope and tripod.
He set the two objects down and quickly assembled them together, creating what was essentially an anti-material sniper rifle but without the gun.
He didn’t release any of his team, knowing that against an Elite Four member, any light or electronic signal could spell his doom.
After setting up the telescope, he pulled out a gilly cover blanket and laid down on his stomach, eagerly awaiting the sun to rise so that it would warm up his weary bones.
He’d started scaling the cliff at three in the morning. Only one hour left.
How to avoid being perceived as a change in the environment by those on the lookout for surveillance? Be a part of the environment before their first glance. He was currently three kilometres away from the odd-looking mansion of the creepy ghost member of the Elite Four. By the time everyone woke up and left their house, he’d simply be another rock in even the sharpest eye’s view.
“You think you’re going to get away with this?” Columbus muttered quietly as he prepared himself for a long day of reconnaissance. Patience, as always, was the core virtue of a hunter. Orphans, elite four members, conference winners. The time of warlords has passed, in front of the law you’re all the same… “Guilty!” he exclaimed angrily before quieting down as he saw a shift in one of the purple curtained windows facing his direction.
The curtains were flung open, and Columbus watched quietly as his mark, Jonathan Joestar, street name Jojo, leaned out of the window to breathe in the fresh sea breeze being carried over by a medium power south-east wind.
The boy, having had his fill of fresh air, disappeared back into his room, presumably going to the bathroom or downstairs for breakfast.
He’d followed Jojo, oh, how he’d followed him. From Pewter, where he’d ousted gym leader Flint and therefore unlocked another betting asset for this year’s conference, all the way to Cinnabar, where he’d met and apprenticed himself with the former Elite Four member Blaine.
His activities were becoming more and more brazen as his scheme remained undiscovered. Columbus’ original hypothesis had been that Joey had bet on Bruno on the fighting type master’s behalf. Now, with his newly established connection with Blaine, the investigator’s ideas could only spiral. What if Blaine had taken the fall for a part of the earnings?
Elite Four for four decades, why not take an extra bag on the way out?
After Cinnabar Jojo had travelled to Fuschia, which had, if anything, been the most innocent part of the trip. One gym battle and gone.
The only suspicious part wasn’t the beginning, the destination, or the process with the companionship.
Joey had picked up another trainer, a young girl by the name of Jessie. Provisional street name… Jeje.
The girl was horrendous, training a seemingly eternally pissed-off Happiny with which she lost most of her battles, seemingly setting herself up for some of the same tax exemptions Jojo had used in his last year.
He’d been right, but the fact brought him no solace. Jojo had been used to test the waters and the responsiveness of the league last year. Now that the criminal ring behind him had confirmed the feasibility of their scam, more and more trainers would emerge. Trainers who would lose most of their battles but win most of their gambles.
Another curtain was opened, and a small brown-skinned girl dressed in two blue sashes greeted the morning sun with an enthusiastic arm gesture and a daring lean out of the balcony, which promptly caused her to fall right off and down from the second floor of Agatha’s house.
Columbus’ heart nearly stopped, but restarted as the clumsy trainer was caught by what appeared to be a long-suffering Dusclops to whom the trainer apologised profusely.
The ghost simply shook its head, and the two of them went around the house to enter it again from the front porch.
Columbus observed as the odd trio ate breakfast, rage bubbling away in his veins.
Last year's conference winner, the Poketech Institute, Bruno, Blaine, and now Agatha.
How far did this corruption spread?
Was it all a lie? Had Columbus ever seen a real battle in his life, or had everything simply been a farce, a reproduction of what could have been true events planned out for the dumb sheep of Kanto to create an egalitarian narrative but an oppressive and hidden reality?
All he knew was that his teeth were starting to hurt from how much he was grinding them.
“One day,” he muttered as he watched the trainers exit onto the sandy beach, where they started discussing some sort of plan under the clear, bright sun. His lip-reading was impacted by the fact that he only had a clear view of Jojo and the fact that the boy was eating a bag of chips, but he was able to make out snippets.
‘Us… Team… help excavate… tower… Haunter… teach us?’
They were a team then, Columbus confirmed, and it seemed their schemes expanded further than just gambling. Something would happen in a tower, the Pokemon Tower, most likely considering their location. Would Agatha teach the two something? Give them a Haunter?
Everything was connected, and Columbus’s mind spun as he formed hypotheses.
Agatha had called the two trainers here; why she needed them was unclear, but it seemed to be related to excavating something. Would she give them a Haunter in return? One of her own?
If Jojo didn’t want to be simply the person placing the bets, but someone that others, perhaps- Jeje, would place bets on, then he’d need the strength to decide the match.
Not enough information, Columbus concluded, but his blood froze in his veins as he read the next bit, exchanged between Jojo and the girl.
‘Next year… Hoenn… Conquer… Conference… In the palm of our hands… nobody can stop us… not the legendaries, not the League,’ the boy said more clearly, having finished his bag of vinegar chips with that infuriating smirk of his.
“They’re going international?” Columbus muttered in a worried tone before cursing.
He stayed put, wanting to gather more information, but what happened next destroyed the opportunity.
A Gengar unwound itself from Agatha’s shadow and served as the fulcrum of a wide domain of shadows which blocked out all sight. It was like a large Shadow Ball, the size of a house, crackling with black and purple.
“If an international expansion didn’t require this level of operational security, then what the hell are they planning?” Columbus asked himself breathlessly. His eyes steeled themselves, and his jowls jigged from the fury coursing through him.
He’d wait here as long as he needed to. He still had almost 100 vacation days left. He’d make a case file nobody could ignore. He would foil these plans. These expansions, these… excavations.
“Justice will prevail!” Columbus cursed before shifting his body and settling in for a long day.
-/-
Yosuke briefly flexed his psychic powers and appeared in the downstairs dining room.
His wife, as always, flinched at his sudden arrival before putting on a fragile smile. A weak-willed woman who constantly made him question if her personality defects truly outweighed the nascent psychic potential of her bloodline.
He paused as he saw the second person present in the tastefully decorated dining room, sitting at the large wooden table.
At the head of the large wooden table.
He narrowed his eyes at his daughter, who blankly returned his stare, but could only go sit opposite her, pretending that his seat had not been taken.
He was now suffering under the very rule he’d established. The most powerful psychic in the family could sit at the head.
His wife clumsily brought out the plates of food. Slightly burned toast, cold cheese, omelette and pickled vegetables. A glowing bottle of ketchup flew from the kitchen as Sabrina’s eyes glowed.
“Ho-honey, how was your journey?” The mother of the family asked, turning the brunette head towards the youngest.
Sabrina didn't bother returning the look, her listless red eyes focused on the plate where a floating fork and knife elegantly scooped up a slice of omelette on top of some toast. A spurt of ketchup completing the childish concoction.
“You finished getting all your eight badges,” Yosuke commented as his wife started pre-cutting his meal into small bites with a shaky smile on her face. “Good job, you have brought honour to the psychics of this world.”
“It was nothing,” Sabrina said quietly as she ate slowly.
“The fastest youngster in history, considering this was your first year as a trainer, also the fastest trainer in history,” Yosuke said critically. “Take pride in your accomplishments and stop being so meek!”
Due to his position at the table, he did not see his daughter’s fists, but he knew from the slight shift of her facial expression that she was clenching them.
“Honey,” his wife started. “Don’t listen to what others are saying, just focus on yourself.”
Yosuke crossed his arms as his wife started uselessly consoling, beginning to eat with the help of his telekinesis.
“I don’t care that they’re calling me a monster,” Sabrina suddenly interjected. “Or abomination. There’s only one person whose opinion I care about.”
Yosuke nodded resolutely. “As you say, the opinion of those sheep does not matter. What was the name of that idiot boy with the Rattata you defeated at that small tournament? It’s likely him initiating some of the smear campaign. As always, others are simply afraid of our power and would wish to push us down rather than elevate themselves.”
A bang suddenly erupted in the dining room, causing both parents to flinch.
Sabrina’s small, childish fist had just slammed onto the white cloth covering the table.
“Shut up,” the girl said coldly as she raised her dead red eyes to stare at her father.
“You will not talk to me like that in my own house!” Yosuke suddenly shouted as he sprang up. “Using physical force like some common thu- mmhmm.” His words were suddenly interrupted by mumbling as he strained to speak, and a hand went up to his mouth to find it forcefully closed.
He battled against the psychic grip but couldn’t gain an upper hand.
“Shut! Up!” Sabrina screamed shrilly, her hands going to her ears as if to protect herself from the words that she had already blocked with her powers.
Yusukue glared angrily at his wife, who had simply fallen back to her usual sitting in the corner and cowering with her arms hiding her head from view.
Sabrina’s body heaved as she breathed in deeply, and her glare intensified.
Yusuke tried to move, but couldn’t. That privilege had been taken from him.
“You are nothing to me,” his daughter hissed, tears suddenly starting to emerge from the corners of her eyes. She hiccuped. “You’re nothing,” she whispered. “I’m going to Lavender,” she suddenly announced. “I have to train against some ghosts for the conference. Don’t seek me out. In fact, never reach out to me again.”
With a flash, she was gone.
Perhaps in another world, she would have stayed longer. But now that at least someone had reached out a hand towards her, she had learned to differentiate between love and obsession.
Maybe she would have eventually been driven insane. Misused her powers due to emotional instability. But in this world, she had someone. Even if it was a grinning idiot who thought she wanted him to be a rival rather than a friend.
The breakfast remained on the table, largely uneaten.
-/-
Hands clasped together by the fingers, Oak stretched his body after getting off the call with an old friend.
A Houndour being able to activate its own Flash Fire ability by using the chemical properties of its fire to take advantage of the recoil inherent to Flare Blitz was the sort of genius that one would expect from a fire-type master with years of experience as a researcher.
“Activating your own Flash Fire, huh?” Oak muttered thoughtfully as he puttered around his office, his workday having technically concluded, but he didn’t feel the need to go home.
“That’s the kind of thing that can change the outcome of a battle,” he muttered as he made his way to the ranch.
It was almost summer now, and the days were long. This meant he finished his day with the sun, rather than in the dark.
A nice feeling.
As he watched the Pokemon in his ranch frolic around, he couldn’t help but feel his mind drift to the messages sent his way by the three trainers he’d sent out this year.
They had reported losing to Jonathan in Viridian Forest, and then again to Cinnabar in his function as a gym trainer.
It seemed almost intentional, but he couldn’t truly imagine someone being this petty…
He paused, the ghostly cackle of an old acquaintance coming to mind.
Well, he could imagine someone that petty in fact.
Hadn’t Agatha written him something?
That she’d take the boy under her wing.
He shuddered slightly as the sun slowly made its way across the sky and began dipping towards the sea.
He just hoped Jonathan wouldn’t take too many personality traits from his erstwhile rival.
Arceus knew that one of her was quite enough.
-/-
Joey concentrated on the ghostly energy raging its way through his body and tried to even out the flow of distortion cracking in the air around him.
He briefly looked to the side, where Misdreavus was doing the same, much better than him.
If he was a bonfire that stirred up the sand around him in swirls, then she was a controlled candle with no rough edges to be found.
He grit his teeth, cursing Agatha, who had simply gone back inside to do Arceus knows what while he and Phoebe were left outside with the old woman’s Gengar as supervision.
The previous interaction with Agatha repeated itself in his head.
“Ghost type energy is special, different. Psychic power comes from within. Fire types synthesise their own flames. Ground and Rock types drawn upon elements that are materially present. Ghosts are the only ones who do not truly possess a power of their own. Ghosts simply access the distortion and mould it to their needs, often foolishly believing that they are the source of this power, when the reality could not be further from that.”
“Is that why ghost-type trainers are called channelers?” Joey asked curiously, for which he was bonked on the head.
Agatha nodded. “Yes, now shut up.” She coughed into her hand. “As I was saying, ghosts do not create the distortion; they simply channel it. They are not a generator, but rather a well. Their strength, thus, reasonably is better described in their capacity, easily imagined as the size and the draw speed of their bucket, rather than by mere output.” She gave her two students a long look and twitched her cane.
Neither of them spoke.
She smiled in satisfaction and then nodded. “The easiest method to grow in power as a ghost? Easy, increase either the size of your bucket or the speed at which you draw from the well.”
A minute, two minutes, three minutes, silence. “You’re supposed to ask me how,” the old woman nudged.
“How do we do tha-” Phoebe started before being interrupted by a smack of a cane on her head.
“Don’t interrupt me,” Agatha said kindly. “Anyway. There are many methods to further unlock this power, but we don’t have much time, so we’ll simply use brute force.”
She glanced at the two students and the assorted ghost Pokemon. Joey with Misdreavus, Phoebe with a team of six. None of them spoke.
Agatha sniffed. “So uncurious. Regardless, the brute method is easy. Ghosts don’t truly have a limit to how wide they can open their connection to the distortion; they merely have a survival instinct that prevents them from going too far. Unfortunately, this instinct also stops them from pushing their limits. There’s no point in trying to unlock this instinct; it is a technique that can only be passed down.” She held up her cane, tip flickering with a ghostly purple. “I’ll open your gates, so to say, and you’ll have to first control the output before being able to close them again to the size you’re comfortable with, which, after the exercise, will be more than previously.”
“Risks?” Joey asked.
“Well, if you let the distortion ravage your body for too long, you’ll permanently lose your corporal form before also losing your incorporeal one,” Agatha said kindly. “If you fail to use the distortion, letting it accumulate around you, you’ll be dragged into it as a sort of reverse summoning. I guess you’ll be banished?” she asked herself curiously while tapping her chin. “Anyway, it’s do or die, or die, I guess.” She clasped her hands together and turned towards their Pokemon and tapped their heads with her cane one after the other. Then she left.
“Wait!” Phoebe called after her. “Aren’t you going to?”
“She already did,” Joey said bitterly. “Why do you think she smacked us?” he asked, before a gaping black hole suddenly erupted within his soul and started trying to suck him in, while at the same time expelling an ungodly amount of energy.
“Ughh, why did I come here?” Phoebe complained before shivering and furrowing her brows in concentration.
“Gengar probably has a way to save us if anything happens,” Joey muttered as a blazing fire of distortion covered his body. He looked at the third stage evolution that had been left behind to upkeep the black barrier covering their part of the beach.
The Gengar promptly looked away and picked at its nose.
“Probably,” Joey muttered with a deadpan before shifting his focus completely to not becoming dust in the wind.