HPM Fighting Tourney Rd. 1: Oh Arceus Not The Bees

Twilight was falling, and every glint of light in the forest looked like a watching eye. Sharon Sullivan knew that there were judges and observers somewhere in the darkness of the Mystery Isle woods around her, and the thought wasn't comforting at all. Sharon had gotten used to the woods in her time living in the country, but standing in the clearing that was to serve as a makeshift fighting ring made the forest seem strangely menacing. Maybe it was the darkness, the sensation of being watched... or maybe it was just the bees.

In the pre-match briefing, Sharon had been told that the clearing they stood in used to be part of a Bug-type ranch, abandoned years before the new wave of immigration. Whoever'd left it hadn't bothered to clean up; the weatherbeaten remains of beehives and wire fencing scattered the ground, their shells built up with wax and paper. The rancher had gone, but the bees were still here, gone feral and probably mean. That was part of the fight: "not just against your opponent," the portly Pelipper-totem referee had explained, "but against the world around you." He'd told them both not to harm the Pokemon, but somehow Sharon wasn't worried about them -- not when she had more important things to worry about, like having worn short sleeves. How thoroughly was she going to get wrecked here?

Her opponent had been a little more sensible, if not exactly dressed for the weather. The Sableye man was dressed in a long coat, what looked like riding breeches, and gem-faceted goggles: a pretty far cry from Sharon's t-shirt and jeans, but she guessed he could afford it. She hadn't talked long to Roland Winter, but Sharon had gotten the impression the guy didn't lack for much in life. Not that he was snooty -- nah, he was polite enough, if cool -- but there was just a feeling. It was strange and uncomfortable, and as the referee's voice came from somewhere in the trees, she tried to chase it away. "Contestants, get ready!"

Sharon stepped forward to the center of the ring, and Roland mirrored her. Their handshake was quick, firm, and silent; without being prompted, they each took a step back, waiting for a cue. Sharon hadn't done a lot of fighting before, but she knew how this was supposed to work. The ref called out again: "All right. You understand the rules. Keep it clean out there! And... FIGHT!"

Sharon expected to be charged, but as she scrambled away, Roland widened his own distance. His goggles were glinting, but she focused on her own efforts, concentrating and gathering two fistfuls of Sleep Powder -- why string things out if she didn't have to? As she released the first one, though, his goggles flared with light, and a beam of shimmering hexagons of light fired at her. Sharon swerved and ducked, but her throw went wide, and the second handful of Sleep Powder scattered across the ground as she pulled herself back upright. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy, right? Sharon swallowed hard, feeling acidic bile start to form in her throat as her body subconsciously readied another attack, but before she could, she felt a lurch as the ground fell away from her. Wait, what? She was... oh, Arceus, she was floating. Sharon kicked and flailed, but an unseen force held her in the air, and below her, Roland was smiling. "Hold still for a moment, would you?"

Arceus, he was a psychic? This was really the last thing Sharon needed. Acid was building in the back of her mouth, but Roland would need to get closer for her to have a chance at hitting him, and why would he bother when he had Power Gem in his pocket? His goggles were already glinting again, and Sharon forced herself to turn in the air, inching her head closer and closer to her foe, letting the pressure build in her esophagus. It was just when her force bonds were about to snap back that she opened her mouth and let fly with a burst of yellowish-green Acid, which hit Roland square in the neck and splashed all over his jacket with a sizzling sound. Score one for the Poison-type!

The Sableye recoiled in disgust and startlement, and the wavering gleam in his goggles grew and grew until it erupted -- not in the controlled force of his Power Gem attack, but in a massive Flash of unfocused brilliance. Sharon fell, the telekinetic bonds holding her in the air shattering, and for a moment, everything was white. When her vision returned, it was still dotted with burnt-out orbs of light, and somehow Sharon's eyes were ringing. Where was Roland? Dammit, he had those goggles! He was probably fine, just waiting for her, planning on avenging his jacket...

And then she heard the buzzing.

It started low and quiet, and the tone rose with the volume as the bees stirred from their hives, awoken and angered by the Flash. A few Vespiquens directed swarms of Combees, but most of them were Beedrills, because of course it'd be the ones with the drill-stingers, right? They emerged from the woods and from the grounded beehives, huge and obviously looking for a target. Sharon froze, trying desperately to think. Roland was one thing; he was probably irritated at her, sure, and they were fighting, but he was a human, and humans had a little mercy for one another. If one of the Beedrills got her, they all would, and then the rest would join in. She'd be lucky to get out of the clearing recognizable... and she was the plant-totem here. How could she avoid drawing their attention?

The answer came to her when she saw Roland, also frozen, near the line of stones that marked the border of the ring. She was going to have to do something strange, and it'd take a risk, but... it was about the only option she had left. She just had to force some power through routes it didn't normally travel, that was all. Said that way, it almost sounded easy, and Sharon balled her fists and concentrated, trying to ignore the insistent buzzing around her. If this worked, she'd only get one chance.

The moment Sharon felt the power flowing into her hands, she ran. Sharon dashed and swerved around the remains of fencing, barely catching herself after stumbling over a collapsed hive crawling with Weedles. Roland hadn't moved yet, and he was watching her with a faintly expectant expression -- and why not? A moment longer and the Beedrills would be homing in... but a moment was all she needed. Once she was within easy tossing distance, Sharon flung open her hands to throw her loads of powder onto Roland. This wasn't the gritty yellow dust of Sleep Powder, but something different -- something cherry-blossom pink, vaguely sticky, and already beginning to release its odor into the air. By the time Sharon wheeled to flee again, the powderized Sweet Scent was already doing its work, filling the clearing with a flowery scent that centered on the Sableye. The bees changed their course almost as a unit, a thick yellow swarm intent on chasing down their target. Sharon turned back just in time to see Roland run -- from the bees, out of the ring, and out of the fight.

From the trees (further in the trees than last time, Sharon noted), the referee called out again. "Roland Winters has left the arena! Sharon Sullivan is the winner!" A few other spectators (wait, there were spectators?) made appreciative noises, and Sharon managed a smile, although she mostly had to catch her breath. Her throat still burnt, and traces of improvised Sweet Scent powder stuck to her hands. She'd need a shower when she got home, although probably not as bad as Roland would need a dry cleaner. Although... man, she hadn't really intended to ruin his coat, and hopefully he wasn't getting destroyed by bees out there. Sharon straightened and resolved to stay put until her former opponent returned.

Thankfully, it only took a few minutes, and the figure that emerged from the woods looked very little worse for wear; he'd taken off his coat and slung it over his arm, and a few burrs and leaves had gotten caught in his shirt, but he'd managed to avoid any actual stings from what Sharon could see. "That's that, then? Nice trick, miss. It wore off fairly quickly, but it did its job. I'm sorry about the Telekinesis -- I know it's not the nicest thing to do to someone..."

"I puked acid all over your jacket, man," Sharon replied. "Neither of us were on our best behavior. Look, if you need to replace that thing, call me, okay? I live on Bullhead Farm on Affection Atoll, and I can at least chip in."

"It'll be fine," Roland replied. "It's survived worse, although perhaps not much worse. Best of luck in the next round, all right?"

"I'll do my best. I'll probably puke on another guy, so, y'know, if you're into that..."

"I'm not, but I'd be insulted were it just me you chose to attack that way." Roland cracked a smile, nodding to the referee as the Pelipper emerged from the woods with a series of crunching sounds. "Now, then. I'm off to clean up."

"Me too. Thank you, and thank you," said Sharon, nodding to the referee. "Let's get out of here without pissing off the bees again."

"We can certainly try..."