(no subject)
Who: usedtact and restardom; CLOSED.
Where: Just outside of Violet City.
When: Thursday, 25 November. Late Afternoon.
Summary: Yosuke tries to teach Jiraiya how to actually battle. Naturally, it ends in utter failure. Cue Rise to the rescue!
Rating: PG. Seriously, guys. 8I
Log:
The tall grass was a perfect place to train Pokemon, and had become the only place Yosuke could go to use Jiraiya in battle, as challenging wayward trainers only ended in embarrassment. Saki was a gem of a Pidgey; she followed orders and was pretty skilled, considering her low level. His slowpoke, on the other hand... well, currently, it was facing off against a particularly rogue Caterpie, its face twisted into an expression that could be construed as a "battle face" if it didn't look so dopey. In fact, everything about this battle was dopey, including the trainer that was busy shouting strained directions to his oblivious Pokemon.
"C'mon, Jiraiya, could you try to at least move?" he pleaded, tone drenched in frustration. "I mean, it's got to have used string shot at least ten times. I really don't think your stats can go any lower."
"Slowwww..." it whined in return. Yosuke made a raw sound of agony, the same kind of sound a man would make if he was being brutally tortured, and attempted to direct another tackle attack.
At that moment, the Slowpoke budged, tiny feet moving as though trying to propel his weight forward. The Caterpie, now treating this match like its own personal game, saw no threat in this, but instead laughed with a small, keening "Cater-Caterpie!" This, however, didn't deter Jiraiya; it strode forward like the slowest mass of pink that ever lived. Of course, it was taking its own sweet time, but Yosuke was still on the edge of his seat with his excitement. It was close... so close to making contact with the taunting Caterpie that if it made contact, that could be construed as a tackle.
Just a centimetre away.
Half of that.
And then--
He stopped. As though tired out from exerting himself, the Slowpoke dropped, eyes slumped shut. Stomping forward for a closer inspection, Yosuke confirmed that it was, indeed, sleeping. Now rolling with laughter, the Caterpie escaped back into the tall grass. The trainer allowed himself to drop to his knees next to his Pokemon, utterly defeated.
Where: Just outside of Violet City.
When: Thursday, 25 November. Late Afternoon.
Summary: Yosuke tries to teach Jiraiya how to actually battle. Naturally, it ends in utter failure. Cue Rise to the rescue!
Rating: PG. Seriously, guys. 8I
Log:
The tall grass was a perfect place to train Pokemon, and had become the only place Yosuke could go to use Jiraiya in battle, as challenging wayward trainers only ended in embarrassment. Saki was a gem of a Pidgey; she followed orders and was pretty skilled, considering her low level. His slowpoke, on the other hand... well, currently, it was facing off against a particularly rogue Caterpie, its face twisted into an expression that could be construed as a "battle face" if it didn't look so dopey. In fact, everything about this battle was dopey, including the trainer that was busy shouting strained directions to his oblivious Pokemon.
"C'mon, Jiraiya, could you try to at least move?" he pleaded, tone drenched in frustration. "I mean, it's got to have used string shot at least ten times. I really don't think your stats can go any lower."
"Slowwww..." it whined in return. Yosuke made a raw sound of agony, the same kind of sound a man would make if he was being brutally tortured, and attempted to direct another tackle attack.
At that moment, the Slowpoke budged, tiny feet moving as though trying to propel his weight forward. The Caterpie, now treating this match like its own personal game, saw no threat in this, but instead laughed with a small, keening "Cater-Caterpie!" This, however, didn't deter Jiraiya; it strode forward like the slowest mass of pink that ever lived. Of course, it was taking its own sweet time, but Yosuke was still on the edge of his seat with his excitement. It was close... so close to making contact with the taunting Caterpie that if it made contact, that could be construed as a tackle.
Just a centimetre away.
Half of that.
And then--
He stopped. As though tired out from exerting himself, the Slowpoke dropped, eyes slumped shut. Stomping forward for a closer inspection, Yosuke confirmed that it was, indeed, sleeping. Now rolling with laughter, the Caterpie escaped back into the tall grass. The trainer allowed himself to drop to his knees next to his Pokemon, utterly defeated.