smash_logs | Into the Wild! Survival of the Fittest?

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Into the Wild! Survival of the Fittest?

Who: Poke!Lucas, idk his bff Kerosene
What: A thrilling wilderness adventure
Where: The wilderness
When: RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW I mean uh let's say from sometime in the afternoon to the morning of the 18th.
Rating: P for Poglemans

For most people, the best part of the weekend was that there were no classes.

For Char, that really didn't matter. You would have to actually attend classes in order to really appreciate having a break from them. The only real reason to love weekends, as far as he could tell, was because Friday and Saturday were the nights people picked to go out and really have some fun. Trolling Capcom High for fights, putting that fake ID of his to good use, playing a rousing game of "fetch one of Genny's personal belongings" with Rasputin, or just shootin' the shit out in the school parking lot with Eyebrows and friends... more often than not, it wasn't that hard to find something amusing to do with his free time. His days, while far from being productive, were happy and carefree.

Today didn't seem to be one of those days. Charmeleon was bored. Not just "mack on Biomech" bored. Not just "go follow Green around like a slouching, overly-attached shadow" bored. Direly bored. Bored to the point of no return. A 117 on the boredom scale. If he didn't find something amusing soon, then there was a very high chance he would resort to setting things on fire just to see what would happen. In a place with an automated sprinkler system, that was never a good sign. So he'd retreated to the great outdoors, mindless of the October chill setting into the air. Surely he'd find something worth paying attention to. If not, he could just slide back into lizard form and find something to kill, roast, and eat. Hey, those animal instincts were hard to ignore. Especially once he started getting to the real wild areas beyond the city. It was a little like being a feral Pokemon all over again, senses honed to zero in on the first sign of prey.

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Just another weekend for Lucas, and another chance for the novice Pokemon trainer to train his favorite tiny turtle Pokemon. Off into the forest they were headed to, to train as much as they could! Being the more compassionate and sensitive trainer, Lucas loved all of the quality time they spent together, especially with the weather changing.

It was beginning to remind him of his home. Because of that, he was becoming a little homesick, but nothing that a hug from his pokemon couldn't cure in a jiffy. "Alright Turtwig! Ready to get a good training session in?" he asked the pokemon curiously, grinning cheerfully.

Of course the young turtle pokemon would respond with a very enthusiastic "Turrrr!", there wasn't a doubt about that. They didn't know, however, that they wouldn't be the only ones taking a walk in the forest...

Lo and behold, there was the unmistakable sound of a Pokemon. Char ducked behind a tree and froze, listening intently. Not just a Pokemon -- those footsteps were far too heavy to just be a dinky little Turtwig. And come to think of it, he only knew one person who owned a stupid little turtle like that...

This was gonna be perfect. It really was just like old times. Back in his wild days, there had been times when the game was either too scarce or too crafty for him to hunt down on his own. When things got hard, he had a backup plan: he could always count on some clueless newbie to come wandering out of Cerulean, all cocky after beating Misty and clueless as to what was in store. He always got a real charge out of hunting down those kids. Not only did they usually carry a ton of food -- real quality stuff, too -- but the psychological part of it was just too sweet. First, they'd get psyched about how lucky it was to find an actual honest-to-goodness wild Charmeleon. Then, they'd get themselves all fired up about catching a really strong Pokemon. Then... then, he'd completely crush everything they could throw at him. Seeing the look on their faces as he stomped their Pokemon into the dirt, watching that confidence turn into fear when they ran out of Pokemon and he turned his attention on them...

This weekend was gonna be a fun one after all. He might not be able to bank on Lucas mistaking him for something wild, but he could still break the chirpy little snot. Make him see that training's not all sunshine and daisies. Put some honest-to-Arceus, oh-so-satisfying terror into him.

Charmeleon bent down and scooped a pebble off the forest floor. Hiding the light of his tail close to his chest, he waited for those footfalls to get louder, then start to fade off again. Good, he was behing the kid. Peeking out from his hiding place, he threw the pebble. It made a satisfying "thunk" against a treetrunk off to Lucas' right. No sooner had he fired off his distraction than Charmeleon switched back to his usual, reptilian form and took off, keeping low to the ground.

He'd need to get closer if he wanted to play around with this twerp, after all.

Both trainer and pokemon instantly stopped, a curious look spread onto Lucas' face, as his Turtwig stood ready to face off against something, on the just in case level. He was pretty protective of his trainer, and he wouldn't want anything to happen to him.

However, the Pokemon Trainer was very unaware of what lied to which he couldn't see. He glanced around, mostly around the area that he heard the thunk. The naive boy couldn't really help himself, quietly he walked over to where it was to see if there was anything hiding behind them. Surely there must have been...! ...From the noise and all. His Turtwig followed him almost immediately he saw him walking, keeping close.

Hook, line and sinker. This was too easy. As loamy as the earth was, there was no way he could charge in quickly without the fallen leaves kicking up a bunch of noise. So he put those massive claws of his to use, scrabbling up a tree with an impressive leap. This method was a little tricker -- no matter how good he was at jumping, Charmeleons were hardly an arboreal species. He'd have to be mindful of his tail, and watch he didn't lose his balance, but there's no way that idiot kid would ever see him coming.

He took a second to gauge the distance and plan out his route from branch to branch, then launched himself forward. Don't stop, don't hesitate, just build momentum, then... pounce! Char sprung at Lucas' exposed back, with the only warning of his impending attack being the muted click of claws pushing off wood.

He didn't even catch the click, he was too preoccupied with the sound that he had heard last. The only thing he felt was Char's weight added onto his back, and the force he exerted to make him fall almost instantly to the ground. He landed hearing the sounds of crunching leaves, and his own self letting out an "Ooof!"

Turtwig reacted in a different way, taken aback by the sudden presence of the pokemon that had cause his trainer to fall. He took a step back, and charged into Char, trying to just tackle him off Lucas.

Now this was when the fun started. Charmeleon lowered his head, bringing his teeth just close enough to touch the back of Lucas' exposed throat. Let him see how it feels to have something really dangerous breathing down your neck. Before he could do much else, however, along came Turtwig, plowing into him.

The difference between a champion's Pokemon and a beginner's Pokemon is a fairly vast one, generally speaking. However, the average Turtwig was about 20 pounds, whereas the average Charmeleon was about 40. Char was very much below average when it came to physical size. So even if Turtwig didn't have much by way of raw crushing power, he had more than enough by way of bulk. The impact was enough to knock Charmeleon off Lucas. He quickly rolled back onto his feet, teeth bared in a challenging snarl.

Feeling danger, from the obvious feeling of the reptile's hot breath and the slight poke of his fangs sent a shiver down his spine, he braced himself for the worst.

What he didn't imagine was the weight changing and the feeling of fear dropping quite considerably. He turned his head to see... A Charmeleon? Wait, could that be the same Charmeleon he knew? His Turtwig stepped off the trainer's back, standing in front of him. He was going to defend him no matter what.

He shifted his weight, still sore from hitting the ground so roughly, and frowned. "K-Kerosene, is that you?"

He just had to keep using that name, didn't he? Three stupid syllables that were guaranteed to brush the rust off his heartstrings and jumpstart them a painful yank. Son of a bitch.

Char's only response was a low growl. There was no point trying to lie -- he really doubted Lucas was fluent in Pokespeak, and how many Charmeleons that were seven inches shorter than they ought to be were there in Final Destination City, anyway? Not like it particularly mattered who he was; the only thing that counted was what he was here to do, and like hell was he gonna let this kid get away until he'd had his fun.

He gave it a few seconds -- this kid was a little slow, after all. It might take him a while to clue in that a Pokemon showing his teeth and attacking you is not somebody you wanna make small talk with -- then he fired off a warning shot: a small burst of fire that struck near Lucas' side, sending a cloud of smoke from the damp, loamy ground.

Lucas was, however, rather new to the city, and he hadn't been able to see if there were any others not in the school or not. He doubted this, but it was worth the look around the city later.

For now there was the Charmeleon he knew, and he was still going to try to reason with him. As the flames drew near him, he jumped to the opposite of the flames, landing on his bottom. "Kerosene, c'mon! Don't be like that! I-I thought I was your friend, you have not reason to attack!"

On the other hand, Turtwig was about ready to tackle Char, he was just waiting for the command of his trainer, or another attack from his opponent.

No reason to attack? Come on, kid. This wasn't rocket science. Charmeleon's snarl sharply rose into a roar. It wasn't any sort of language that Lucas would understand, but the meaning was clear: he didn't need a reason. He wanted Lucas to run. He wanted Lucas to cry and shake like a little bitch. He wanted to see fear and hopelessness, just because he could. So put that in your pipe and smoke it, sparkly-eyed little newbie. He'd see how long that stupid irrational call-you-Kerosene kindness'd last.

He started with the Turtwig. As far as Char was concerned, there was no way some novice's derpy little starter was worth perceiving as a threat. It was more the statement behind the action than anything. Flat, reptilian eyes remained fixed on Lucas as he turned his head slightly to the side, then let loose with a Flamethrower.

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Into the Wild! Survival of the Fittest?

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