As expected, leather-face did reply to his taunt, after all. Sigur almost grinned. Now that the whole smooching fiasco was kind of over with, he found himself almost enjoying this little battle of words they were having. Sure gave him something to do, and pulled his thoughts away from the embarrassment of earlier. That, and it almost made him forget there was still a pink blob holding onto his shin and rubbing itself against his jeans so hard he feared it'd cause a hole. [i]Almost[/i]

Either way, the guy went ahead to call him a child - with what, there being like one year between the two? Two years? - and then proceeded to suggest a Pokémon battle. Oh yeah, like Ms. Bubblegum on his leg could do anything useful in a battle. It didn't even know how to stand on its [i]own two fucking legs.[/i]

At the thought, Sigur gave his leg another hopeful flick. No use. Figured. Did it even [i]have[/i] legs?

The guy continued, ending up backing away from the Pokémon battle as well, with the excuse that he'd use his loss as a means to try and change his Pokémon. Truth be told, Sigur hadn't even thought of that, but now that he heard it, he sure wish he had. Goddamnit. Too late now.

Or wait, was it? Maybe he could still change the other's mind. Well, it didn't hurt to try, at least. He just needed to not sound desperate, and that didn't sound too difficult a task. Alright, project Please Let Me Change My Fucking Critter to Something Less Embarrassing was a go.

So, with a cocky grin, Sigur crossed his arms and tilted his head.
 
"Yeah, sure, [i]that's[/i] your reason," he taunted, tone mocking and the slightest bit amused. Inside, though, the man was pretty much screaming 'just fucking battle me already goddamnit don't make this so difficult'. "If you're so sure that the old prof'd say no again, why're you backing away from the fight anyway? Scared? Intimidated by this 'child' and his pink bra-filling of a Pokémon? Well aren't we got a champion in the making here."

He had barely had the time to finish when the loud shouting voice of some chick grabbed Sigur's attention rather violently. He turned his head, one hand on his ear and face in an annoyed scowl. Who the fuck shouted like that in a small room like this? And wait, [i]what'd[/i] she called him again? ... The guy hadn't... really left a stain, had he? 

As if by some morbid reflex, Sigur's fingers slid from his ear to feel his cheek. Just... in case.

"I suggest you apologize before you get hurt." 

[i]Oh?[/i] And exactly what was this girl, half a head shorter than him, going to hurt him wi-

[i]HOLY SHIT A SWORD![/I]

Sigur jumped back out of whatever reflex it was that commandeered the human brain in case of a 'threatened-by-a-fucking-cursed-sword-in-the-face' scenario, and almost choked on the multitude of words and gasps that tried to make their way out of his throat all at once. 

Yeah, he had been threatened before, by fists, batons, Pokémon, cars, and he could faintly recall one incident where a guy he pissed off had swung around a two-by-four (so fucking with the guy building your house might not have been the smartest choice, sue him), but never before had he faced a goddamn [I]sword. [/I] It was the exact same one he'd seen before and sworn to stay away from, too. He had called it [i]again.[/i] That was [I]it[/I], fuck you and goodbye Pokémon training, hello Madam Sigur's Peek into the Future. Success in two months, give or take a few days. He'd become a sensation.

If he lived this.

"Hey, hey,[i] whoa,[/i]," he began once he believed his voice was steady enough to hold his tone that of disbelief and, despite the situation, mockery. His hands were held on the level of his face, just between the Pokémon and himself, and he had just taken a long enough breath to be able to continue, when Prince Fabulous had ridden in to the rescue.

What he said basically amounted to 'let's not threaten each other when we can be friends and hold hands and ride into the sunset together instead'. Basically. With some creative freedom added. Sigur was just about to growl that he could be threatened by a fucking [i]horde of axes [/i]and still wouldn't need help from a guy like him, when the dude turned to face him - way too close for comfort goddamnit - and, after assuring him a kiss between friends was no big deal, gave him a wink.

Sigur's eye twitched.

"Just... kill me now."

Suddenly remembering there was an actual sword and a girl probably crazy enough to grant his wish, he jumped a bit further away and then snapped a glare at her. "And in case your brain missed the train; [i]that was a joke. [/i]You can stop manhandling the fucking sword now - you've enough time to abuse it and use it as a dildo and whatever else your little heart desires to once you start your oh-so-wonderful journey of animal - or object or whatever that thing is - abuse. Meanwhile, [i]hold your fucking horses."[/i]

"Iggly, ig, lyyy-yh!" He suddenly heard from somewhere around his waist-level. Looking down, his 'starter' had climbed its way up to his stomach by now, and continued to very painstakingly climb up his shirt until it managed to get its puffy behind hoisted up on his shoulder. Once there, it turned to face the sword and the girl, starting to swing around its tiny arms, big eyes filled with tears as if asking the girl to stop bullying its trainer. Sigur brought a hand to his face.

First he got saved by a homo and then by a spoonful of dessert jelly.

Yeah, this was shaping out to be an awesome journey alright.