PMDU Fight Club - Round 1 (Tor vs Frederick)

“You entered WHAT?!”

Tor winced as Leo shouted right in front of his face. Rubbing his sensitive ears, he repeated what he said earlier. “I’m going to enter a Battle Tournament.” He sighed. “Got any problem with that?”

“‘I’m going to enter a Battle Tournament. Got any problem with that?’” The Vaporeon repeated in a mocking tone. “That’s just what you needed; another fight when you’ve just recovered!” The water type growled. “As your personal doctor, Tor, I forbid you to do any heavy activities until your bones have mended!”

Tor let out a frustrated huff and slammed his paw on the sleek, projection table “Can’t you see that I’m completely healed, doc? There’s nothing wrong with me!” He replied as he stretched his completely healed arm to the Vaporeon before folding them across his chest. “It’s been three weeks since that Guardian Statue incident. You of all ‘mons should know how fast I heal!”

“That’s beside the point!” Leo argued, glaring. “I just don’t get why you can’t just wait for one more day. One! Nanogenes don’t come cheap, you know! And even if I have a ton of that little med critters here, it doesn’t mean you could go participating in these primitive fighting tournament!” the Vaporeon protested. “I mean, have you seen how they fight? Some of these ‘mons have a barbaric way to battle. You can’t seriously consider entering this competiton!”

Tor rolled his eyes. “Well, alright... but I’ve really got nothing to do here!” he exclaimed. “Tristan’s off doing his research with the Computer Core, Simmons and Natalie are busy with engine repairs, and you have that Zigzagoon to keep you company!” he sighed exasperatedly. “So what do you recommend me to do? Stay in this godsdamned ship all day long?”

“Well, you could-“ Leo began.

“Nope.” The Shinx stood up and made his way to the door. “I don’t want to hear it, and I’ve made my mind.” He huffed. “Come on. It won’t be that bad.”

The doctor glared. “If you came back here with a multitude of injuries...” Leo growled as the Shinx walked down the corridor. “Then pray to every deity out there that I will be willing to take you to the Medbay! You hear that Ahlström?!”

The Shinx merely responded with a dismissive wave of his paw. “Yeah, yeah. See you tonight.”

***

Tor’s destination was by far one of the most eye-catching building in Andalusst. To put it simply, it was a huge Tyranitar themed dome. The entrance was a styled Tyranitar head, with its tail curving upward at the other side of the green and silver dome. The blue lion cub-like Pokémon blinked in surprise when he entered the building. He had expected a reception area, not a dim lit restaurant filled with gruff looking ‘mons. Tor was convinced that he had entered the wrong building and was prompted to leave when a Lampent came up to him.

“How many people, sir?”

“Er... one.” Tor replied after staring at the lamp-like ‘mon oddly. The Lampent had a dented ‘hat’ and dark blue flame which was burning really wildly inside. “I thought this is an arena.” He said quickly, diverting his eyes from the fire.

The Lampent blinked. “...Oh! You’re entering the ... the, the, the....” he twirled his arms around, eyes scrunched tight. “The, the... Oh! The Tournament?”

Tor huffed, folding his arms. “If it isn’t obvious.” 

“Then this way please.” The Lampent said cheerfully and led Tor towards the counter, where another Lampent was stationed.

“We have another participant.” Said the first Lampent , bobbing around before he floated away.

Tor watched as the first Lampent disappeared from his sight. “So where can I sign my name?” he asked, tapping his foot impatiently. The cashier Lampent blinked its large, yellow eyes once. Its bluish green flame flickered a few times. It then reached for a book below the counter and handed Tor a quill.

“...Please sign here...” It said in an airy, female voice, pointing to the specified spaces on the book. It looked more like a contract to Tor. “...Please be noted that the Emissary would not be responsible for any loss of items... accessories...  limbs... or death... and we will not be responsible for... any kind of-“

“Yeah, yeah. You guys are not responsible, blah blah blah.” Tor grunted, scribbling his name. “There. Now can you show me the arena?”

The green flamed Lampent blinked before she turned her whole body around and opened the counter table beside her. “...This way please...”

Tor closed the counter behind him as the Lampent disappeared into the flap behind the counter. The flap opened into a short, dark corridor. The only source of light was from the flickering green light of the Lampent floating a few ways in front of Tor. Soon, they emerged at a vast, circular room. The light above the arena shone right on Tor’s eyes as he entered the field. The Shinx shielded his eyes from the intense light, cursing slightly.

As the electric type’s eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that there were a number of ‘mons sitting inside a slightly submerged booth right behind the ring, talking amiably with each other. Though, some of them preferred to say silent and analyse their potential opponents.

The ring itself was a hexagon, walled by a 20 feet tall steel wire cage. The arena was laid by a thick layer of fine sand, with various wooden obstacles scattered across the field. Some were small, like crates and tiny pyramids. The others, however, were huge boulders. Some were even towering, 10 feet pillars.

Well, this tournament will be quite interesting.

“Welcome!”

The Shinx blinked as a creepy looking Chandelure floated down from the top of the dome. She was grinning rather giddily. Too giddy for Tor’s taste in fact.

“Welcome to the Fight Club!” the Chandelure continued. “On behalf of the Fight Club Café, I thank you for coming. Now that the registrations are done, and we have enough fighters to entertain us to the night...” she trailed off as the diners from the restaurant started to fill in the benches around the arena above them. “LET THE TOURNAMENT BEGIN!”

The rounds were initiated almost immediately. Tor had to admit, some of these fights were quite entertaining. Some were fighting with such fine skill that Tor was kept at the edge of his seat. Some rounds, though short, were quite interesting to watch. There were several exciting  longer fights, though some of the amateur fighters managed to bore the audience by dragging the fight with basic punches, kicks, and bites. Everytime a fight was finished, the arena would sustain a number of damage. Between fights, a group of psychic types would go into the ring and repair everything with their psychic powers. 

Must be really a tiring job.

Tor jerked in surprise as a Litwick hovered right in front of his face. He had been so immersed with the current round between a Lucario and a Fletchling that he had not realized the presence of the floating candle.

“What?” he snapped loudly, feeling annoyed that his attention was being diverted from the really entrancing fight.

The Litwick flinched slightly at the glare directed at him. “Your turn is up next, sir.” He said.

Tor huffed and stood up “Alright. Lead the way then.”

“This way, sir.” The Litwick turned around and floated off. Tor walked off the participant’s stand into the far side of the arena, and into a dark corridor. Like the other parts of the building, the corridor was completely dark, and the only source of light was from the Litwick himself. Tor shuffled uneasily as he followed the ghost/fire type through the corridor. If one were to wander here without the assistance of the Litwick and Lampent around, they would be lost.

The corridor twisted and leaned downwards, and the lack of lighting and heat made the stone walled corridor damp and cold. Tor shivered despite himself. They ascended another set of stairs before they traversed a moss covered hallway, and arrived at a (thankfully) huge warm room. It looked like a preparation room of sorts. Wooden weapons and shields were lined along the wall, as well as various purple shaded banners, some purple candles burning with ominous lilac flames, purple velvet sofa taking the centre of the room, and a huge purple rug that decorated the stone floor.

Tor shook his head. What’s with all the purple? Before he could ask the Litwick, the whole room rumbled and shook. Dust fell from the ceiling. Tor frowned and looked up as another tremor shook the whole room. Judging from the muffled booms and thuds and sizzles coming from above, the Shinx deduced that they must have been right under the arena.

“Your vest, sir.” The Litwick waited, levitating a coat stand right towards the Shinx. “All clothing and accessory items are not allowed in the ring.”

Tor huffed, unzipping his black vest. He threw it unceremoniously at the coat stand.

“Thank you sir.” The coat stand floated away. “Do you need some refreshments?” this time, a tray of snacks floated right under the Shinx’s chin.

“No.” he promptly pushed it away, pursing his lips.

“Any weapon of choice, sir?” now several wooden swords, lances, shields, and staffs levitated from their stands.

Tor blinked as he flexed his shoulders and practiced several kicks and punches to the air. “Why would I? How much longer?” he asked as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

The Litwick glanced upwards. “It... shouldn’t be long, I guess.” There was a series of dings from above. “Ah. I guess you’re up then, sir.”

Tor grinned. “Good.” He scanned the room. “I just need to step on that, right?” he pointed to the wooden platform on the side of the room.

The Litwick bobbed his body once. Tor took it as a yes. “Good luck then sir.” He said as Tor stepped into the platform. “May the best fighter win.”

“Yeah.” Tor cracked his knuckles. “May the best fighter win.”

With a slight jerk, the platform lifted clear off the ground into the circular opening on the ceiling. Tor was engulfed yet again by darkness but it was short lived. The light flooded his vision as he emerged right inside the arena, right as the announcer -another Lampent- floated around the arena jovially.

“Now unto the next round!” his voice echoed through the dome. “On the red side, we have a young Shinx, Tordon Ahlström! And on the blue side, we have this frightening old Gliscor, Frederick Croogar! Let’s give a round of applause, shall we?”

Tor grumbled at being called a Shinx and huffed. His irritation was soon replaced by astonishment. The Lampents and Litwicks sure did a quick job repairing the arena. The fight between the Lucario and Fletchling had not spared a single obstacle standing. Every obstacle was repaired with no visible signs of damage. And the sand layer was as flat as a tabletop, as if no one had stepped on the arena before.

Shaking his head, the Shinx then looked to the far side of the arena where a Gliscor was waiting. Frederick Croogar was quite large for a Gliscor. And he certainly looked intimidating, not to mention the feral grin he was sporting. A bead of sweat rolled down Tor’s face as he felt a sinking feeling growing inside his gut. He tried to push it away, but it stayed down there. His heartbeat quickened.

“Will the fighters approach the middle ring?” the referee, a Litwick with deep purple flames, asked. Tor kept his gaze on his opponent as he walked into the ring-like pattern painted on the middle of the field. A Gliscor... my electric moves will be useless against him... what’s with that feral grin?

“This will be a one round fight between Tordon Ahlström and Frederick Croogar!” the Announcer boomed. “The rules are simple: No maiming, no killing, and no dirty tricks. Weapons are allowed, and you are free to use your environment to your advantage!”

“A Shinx eh?” Frederick smirked as he and Tor exchanged handshakes. “I remember what happened to the last Shinx I fought.” He chuckled, inspecting his claw before he dragged it across his throat. “His name was Sparky, if I recalled correctly. Heheheh. That’s where it’d be.”

Tor frowned at the past tense. His tried to calm his heartbeat. “Was?”

The Gliscor smirked. “Well, whatever he is today, I assure you it isn't ...alive.“ he flew a few ways backwards. “A Shinx doesn't stand a chance against a ground type like me!”

“I noticed.” Tor rolled his eyes.  “Well... Don't get too cocky now.” He called out as he took a few steps back and cracked his knuckles.

Frederick snorted, seemingly amused by the idea. “You're calling me cocky?!”

“Yeah... problem?” Tor retorted, assuming a fighting stance. Careful now, analyse your opponent. That Gliscor seemed to be the offensive type... he seems to tend to go all out...

The foe Gliscor rolled his eyes, now looking uninterested. “Eh, the little shrimp isn't worth getting my hands dirty...” he murmured, but he must have spoken louder than he intended because Tor could hear what he said word per word.

“Shrimp, eh?” Tor growled. One thing he dislike being called, is to be called ‘tiny’ or something along the lines of that word. His unintended degeneration didn’t help his temper either (How he missed being a Luxio again...). The Shinx stretched out his arms, swiping it across the air as disks of volatile electricity materialized right on his paws, crackling madly. The air around him smelled of ozone. “Watch it, bat. I'm not really in a forgiving mood today.”

Fredrick laughed mockingly. “And what are you gonna do with that?” he gestured to the disks, sneering. “You must be dumber than I thought. Electricity can’t hurt me...C’mon then, hit me with your best shot. Not that you can. Eheheh.” He taunted.

The disks glowed bright as they were sent flying towards the Gliscor as Tor charged forward. Frederick rolled his eyes and simply side stepped the incoming projectile and catching the second one with his claws. It burst into a brilliant arc of electricity, enveloping the Gliscor.

“Oh! A creative way to execute Discharge!” the Litwick commentator praised. “Though it’s unfortunate that electricity won’t work on Ground Types.”

Frederick was laughing as the electric shocks died down. “HAH! That’s the best you can-AUGH!” He had not noticed the incoming double roundhouse kick from his opponent, which sent him reeling. Before the Gliscor could react however, Tor chomped down on the scorpion-like tail. His fangs fangs enveloped in dark energy.

“That was Crunch!” the commentator exclaimed. “That Discharge was just a distraction! Points to Ahlström for a perfect execution!”

“ARGH! YOU LITTLE PUNK!” Tor felt the Gliscor’s massive claw connecting to his head, forcing his fangs off Frederic’s tail. To say the Gliscor was mad was an understatement of the century. “ALRIGHT, NOW IT'S ON!”

With eyes burning madly, the Fang Scorpion Pokémon flew straight to Tor, attempting to strike the Shinx’s torso. But Tor evaded at the last second and aimed a powerful jab to his opponent’s wings. Frederick spun out of control and collided with a wooden boulder. Splinters and sand flew everywhere. The Gliscor coughed. A guttural growl emitted from his throat.

“Alright... if that’s what you want.” He wiped the blood of his chin and charged, letting out a bloodcurdling war cry. With a sharp motion, the Gliscor’s tail struck the ground, the sharp barbed tail sunk deeply to the sand. The next second, the ground shook and columns of earth and sand shot up towards Tor, hitting the Flash Pokémon head on, sending him flying a few feet back, and tumbled into a wooden pillar.

“AAAAAND THAT WAS EARTHQUAKE FOLKS!” The announcer shouted above the roar of the crowd. “At least a variation of it. Let’s see how Ahlström could cope up now.”

Down on the ring, Tor wasn’t coping really well. The Shinx wobbled to his feet, feeling around his jaw. It’s going to bruise badly. Frederick charged towards his opponent, his claws glowing. Catching his breath, Tor took off into a run and vaulted over a wooden boulder, spinning clockwise as he avoided Frederick’s attack and lands a powerful punch at the Gliscor’s jaw and Double Kicked his back. The flying/ground type was blown back to the other side of the arena. He managed to break his fall by flapping his wings, but he was certainly winded by Tor’s assault.

“Damn you punk.” He growled. But he was forced to duck as Tor’s Discharge Disks came flying to him, buzzing past his ears, missing his head by inches. There was a deafening boom behind the bat-like Pokémon. “What?” Frederick turned around, and was met by two tall pillars falling down on him.

The whole arena shook as the pillar fell in top of the Gliscor, sending sand and wood splinters everywhere.  For a moment, everything was still. As the dust settled, all that could be seen was lump of broken wood. Tor was heaving on the opposite side of the ring, his heartbeat increased. Had I won?

He gave an involuntary gasp -even the audience gasped- as the two broken pillars went flying in two different directions, hitting the steel wire cage. Frederick came charging out, laughing like he had just lost his marbles. His one claw remained limp as the other one glowed brightly as it was imbued with energy. The wounded Gliscor took off to the air, slowly enshrouded by a harsh light.

“That’s Sky Attack!” said the announcer excitedly.

Tor hit the ground, dodging the first move, but he was hit from the back as Frederick strikes again. It soon began to be an onslaught of attacks.

“Gah!” Tor grunted as he was sent sprawling across the arena, finally hitting a wooden wall as it shattered into pieces. Blood oozed from his numerous cuts and scrapes. “Damnit...” he coughed, using the nearby wooded structure to stand up, glaring at the Gliscor. He’s strong. Of all times I’ve got to have an opponent that possessed a type advantage...

With a strained cry, Tor took hold of the wooden shards around him and launched it at his opponent. Frederick reeled back, twisting in mid-air while dodging the projectiles. He then landed across the ring on his tail, straightening himself. The already huge Gliscor appeared even larger.

With a glow at the back of his throat, the Gliscor’s fangs began to be cloaked by flames.

“Fire Fang!” shouted the commentator  just as Frederick shot fang shaped flames towards Tor. The electric type was hit a few times, burning his fur. Patches of his fur were smoking, and he himself was looking more worse for wear. Gritting his teeth, Tor charged towards Frederick, sidestepping the flames as he launched himself on the Gliscor, hitting his chest with his knee before he Crunched  the Gliscor's good arm. There was a rather sickening pop as the Gliscor cried out, trying to pull his arm from the Shinx’s fangs. Then, Tor aimed a left uppercut right at Frederick's jaw, sending him flying.

Before the Gliscor could regain his bearings, Tor leapt up, charging his Discharge Disks and threw it towards the base of another pillar. The Shinx heaves as Frederick was once again, slammed to the ground with the same strategy. He waited for the Gliscor to emerge, but the ruined lump remained motionless. He waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.

And he gave an involuntary start.

The debris was sent flying everywhere as Frederick slowly rose upwards, wings flapping. The Gliscor was looking far worse than before. Both of his arms were hanging limp on his sides, blood was slowly pouring out of his various wounds. His chest armor was badly damaged. A nasty looking crack ran down his upper armor-like plates The Fang Scorpion Pokémon seemed to have a difficulty breathing by the sound of his laboured breath. It didn’t look like he was in any condition to fight.

Tor frowned in concern. "Damn..." He widened his eyes in alarm as the Gloscor advanced towards him. "You're in no condition to fight. Stay down! He shouted.

But Frederick ignored him. To Tor’s surprise, the Gliscor began to grin. A horrible, and wicked blood stained grin. His once golden irises had turned blood red, glinting in madness. The Gliscor let out a blood chilling gurgled cackle, coughing out his own blood.

“I said, stay down! You can’t fight!” Tor shouted, readying himself as the Gliscor continued to advance on him.

“Stay down? Ha!” Frederick cackled, popping back his dislocated shoulder without a single flinch. Tor could hear some of the audience gasp or flinch slightly on their seats.

“Staying down? Peh! I don’t care if I die fighting you... my death will be as a destiny bond!” Frederick shouted. “As I die, I'll bring you down WITH ME!” He roared as he charged towards his opponent, his claws glowing with bright energy. “GUILLOTINE!”

Tor cursed as the Gliscor flew towards him lightning speed. He hit the ground at the last second, missing the mad Gliscor's pinchers by inches as the bat sailed past, destroying several wooden pillars.

“YOU WON’T ESCAPE THAT EASILY FROM ME!” he roared as he charged back, aiming for Tor’s head. The Shinx countered with a Double Kick to distance himself from the Gliscor, but he got yanked back as Frederick caught his left foot, hitting the Shinx into the arena and pinned him down.

Frederick cackled, preparing his Guillotined claw for the final blow as he kept Tor pinned to the sandy arena. “Any last-AUGH!”

Tor slammed his knuckles to Frederick’s face as the Gliscor reeled from the sand that Tor had kicked the sand right to his eyes, freeing the Shinx. Frederick attempted to grab his opponent again, but suddenly found the air knocked out of his lungs as Tor judo-flipped him, hard, to the arena.

Frederick snarled as Tor loomed above him. “You little-“ he choked as the Shinx placed a foot on his cracked chestplate. Tor was breathing heavily now. His limbs ached badly, screaming for rest. But he kept his position above the Gliscor firm.

“I’ve won. Shut up.” He growled, punching his face again as the crowd cheered and roared with applause. Tor looked up as the Tournament Supervisors hurried into the ring and took a struggling Frederick into a stretcher with sturdy straps before he could do any damage.

“Let me go! Let go! I’ll have your head next time! You hear me!” the Gliscor’s shouts were drowned by the announcer’s booming voice as he declared Tor the winner. The Shinx could only sigh in relief as the medical team took him out from the arena, glad that it was over.

Well, perhaps not quite.

“Ahlström!"