July 8th, Valor Forest
------------------------
If Monty never saw another Karrablast, it would still be five too many. His Bronze League team had spent the morning hard at work decimating the Clamp Pokemon horde's population in the forest surrounding Lake Valor, as each member's partner held a type advantage against Bug-Types, and though it was an efficient way for Omen to level up Monty found it tedious at best.
Monty's brow was slick with sweat and his muscles ached from the exertion of their hours-long crusade against the Karrablast, but the trainer could feel through their Sync-Bond that Omen was just as fired up and raring to go as when the pair first arrived.
"There's no end to these things!" The trainer shouted in exasperation as another trio of the blue-bodied bugs emerged from a nearby patch of bushes. He pivoted from his position on one of Valor Forest's winding trails to face the Karrablast, readying himself for the increased flow of energy into Omen that came with every battle. Speaking of Omen...
Where are you? We've got company, Monty called out telepathically to his partner. The trainer concentrated on the Sync-Bond and got a general idea of Omen's location, recognizing his own scent and those of the Karrablast growing stronger in the Houndour's powerful nose.
< I'm almost back! > Omen mentally growled, voice practically dripping with anticipation of another fight, and Monty could sense his partner's battle drive flaring up as the Houndour approached.
Monty felt a brief drain on his energy as Omen prepared to use a move, and the trainer watched the forest light up as a small ball of fire sailed through the air and hit one of the Karrablast square in the back. Your accuracy with Ember is getting better, Monty complimented his partner.
< Of course it is, I'm the one using it. > Omen retorted smugly.
The injured Karrablast fell into the grass and the other two turned around to face their attacker as the sound of leaves crunching beneath Omen's paws rapidly approached. The Bug-Types' clamps lit up with glowing energy, one indicating an incoming Peck and the other a Fury Cutter, but just as Omen broke through the bushes and got within striking range he launched himself over his opponents and landed directly next to Monty.
"Alright show off," the man said as his partner readied himself to finish the fight. "Let's see a How-."
< No, I can end this now! > Omen snapped as whisps of purple smoke began pouring from his jaws.
Monty flared with annoyance at Omen's defiance, but he had come to expect it since first bonding with the arrogant Houndour. The trainer felt his energy drain again as Omen launched the Smog at their opponents, but the Karrablast easily dodged the attack as the purple smoke sailed lazily through the air.
The Clamp-Pokemon each readied another attack of their own and charged at Omen and Monty separately, their clamp-like horns glowing with white and greenish-yellow energy.
"Another set of Peck and Fury Cutter, let's get some distance and finish this with Ember." Monty called out to Omen as he employed some basic footwork skills to maneuver around the Karrablast's attacks. Luckily these Karrablast are sticking to Physical attacks, as long as we keep our distance we're fine, Monty thought with a hint of satisfaction with his battle instincts.
"Fine, your way then," Omen barked. Monty could sense a deep irritation well up from within his partner through their Sync-Bond, and the Houndour poured every ounce of his irritation into the flames collecting within his maw. "DIE!" Omen roared as he unleashed the Ember, not even bothering to watch the ball of flame collide with his opponent before turning to face the second Karrablast.
Monty jumped backwards away from his pursuer, putting Omen between himself and the little Bug-Type, and even though the fight could be finished quickly with another Ember he decided to call out, "Finish it with Smog!"
The drain of energy was much more focused this time, and Monty could feel Omen getting even more pumped up as thick smoke began seeping from his jaws again. While the first Smog cloud was small, thin and slow, this Smog was more like a plume of thick, choking purple smoke soaring at the Karrablast.
"Yes!" Monty cried out as the Karrablast was incapacitated by the attack. Satisfaction welled up from within he and Omen, but they had hardly begun to celebrate their victory when Monty's Rotom Phone, Ring, chimed from his pocket.
"BZZZZT! You have...three notifications!" Ring notified him. "Would you like me to read them? BZZZZT!"
"Go ahead," Monty replied as he pulled the phone from his pocket. He hadn't been expecting any messages. Maybe it's my teammates, he thought. They were a three person team; Monty, a girl named Greta, and a man named Owen.
"BZZZZT! Bronze League Participant Owen has left the team!...Bronze League Participant Greta has left the team! Reason given...'Not comfortable with current teammate! BZZZZT!" Ring alerted.
Monty erupted with confusion and anger, replying, "Not comfortable with current teammate? I didn't even do anything!" The man wracked his brain trying to think of a reason his teammates would abandon him, until Omen offered a memory to him through their Sync-Bond.
It showed their teammates giving them the side-eye throughout their entire week together, something Monty had failed to pick up on himself. Omen showed him another memory that made the whole situation click for Monty. Omen had picked up on a conversation between Greta and her Rotom phone the previous evening that Monty had been too far away too hear, and she had asked it to run a check on Monty's name in the Kalos prison records.
Monty was annoyed that Omen had piped up sooner, but he figured it wouldn't have helped anything if they had already thought to run his background. Hopefully they're the only smart trainers in this region, the former criminal thought resignedly.
< They feared us. > Omen communicated with pride.
"That's not good," Monty replied. "We need teammates for the League."
Omen rolled his canine eyes, snorted with a puff of smoke, and asked, < Why should we have teammates that will slow us down? I'm strong enough. >
"It's not your strength I'm worried about," Monty retorted, "It's League rules. Rules we have to follow if we want to stay out of Kalos on the League's dime." Not to mention finding Dahlin, the man thought.
It suddenly dawned on Monty that Ring reported three notifications, but only said two of them. "What else is there to hear, Ring?" Monty asked the Rotom.
"BZZZZT! A notification from the Bronze League. There is a tag-battling tournament in Lilypad Town today! BZZZZT!"
A tag-battle tournament? Monty only thought for a split second before replying, "Can you sign us up for it, Ring?"
"Yes! We'll win!" Omen barked in approval. Smoke poured from the Houndour's nose in thin wisps, a sign Monty recognized as showing anticipation.
"I know we'll win," Monty said to his partner, "But we're mainly going to find more teammates. Preferably ones that don't scare easy."
< Let them fear us! > Omen snorted mentally. < I'm an omen of power after all. They should fear me. >
---------
July 8th, Lilypad Town
---------
The bus ride was neither comfortable nor speedy, but Monty and Omen arrived in Lilypad Town with plenty of time to spare. The pair quickly oriented themselves in the direction of the Tag-Battle stadium, but decided to grab a bite to eat considering their morning of Karrablast-related carnage.
Monty's eyes swept the streets, looking for anything enticing, when Omen alerted him to a delicious smell in the air.
< That stand over there looks good. > Omen told his trainer while making a beeline for the delicious smell, and Monty followed his partner's path to see a boneless wing stand just down the street. Sure, that actually sounds really good right now, Monty agreed as his stomach growled.
There were a few patrons at the stand, including one young man who's demeanor Monty recognized as that of a punk, but Omen ignored them as he barked at Monty to get him food.
The trainer swaggered up to the stand and paid the clerk for an order of barbecue, an order of extra spicy wings, and two waters, exchanging the money and sitting down with Omen at one of the many tables. Monty set his steely-grey eyes on the punk and his Pokemon, neither of whom Monty recognized, and watched with amusement as he was swindled by one of the oldest tricks in any fraudster's book.
The former criminal smirked and Omen snickered at the scene as he mentally commented, < He is a fool. >
You're not lying, Monty replied jovially. Now let's eat.
