Xaltwind
Double
RPM
Rune_Alchemist
PlatinumSkink
Renose
SpookySquid
RisingRobin
Expendable
Troy
It took a while, simply, to answer Minccino's challenge with some modicum of sincerity. Troy couldn't help but stand and stare at Minccino, who was expectantly doing the same, waiting for him to send out Shuckle. It felt unnatural, having been strung along by that other student, and it left a sour taste in Troy's mouth, to receive Minccino's gratitude like this. Well, that wasn't all, either.
Troy had skipped over it earlier, but as he brought his pokedex out again, he confirmed that Minccino's ability was Cute Charm. In essence, it was worthless. Blatantly inferior. Troy had made it a point to not rely on his father's resources, barring some widely available vitamins, and ability patches were not easy to come by. Although it seemed like a talented specimen, not even having Technician drastically reduced its usefulness, even as an interrim pokemon. Why is he even doing this? Because he fears Shuckle getting taunted and losing in a dramatically pathetic manner? Because the journey of a successful trainer involves amassing a wide array of tools, many of which quickly become redundant? Because he let himself think finding perfection like the breeders on the Caecilius ranch could be so easy? Troy ran his clean hand through his hair as a scowl tarnished his ever-placid facade. He could feel his composure slip as the frustration mounted. He liked Cinccino. He kinda liked this Minccino. Still, Cute Charm is fucking useless and so is Rivalry. He got wrapped up in capturing Minccino regardless because he was told the Minccino had a stash of garbage he had to retrieve, but seeing this Minccino demand a battle of him, like it was testing him after it already failed his test, pissed him off.
Troy took a deep breath, as he so often found himself doing, fixing the expression on his face. He was an expert at mental resets and no one could tell him otherwise, but he still found himself changing his course of action. A crack in his inflexibly infallible mask. Cognitive dissonance, he thought, as he made the conscious choice to act on his emotions. What difference does it even make? -Since this is all irrelevant to the end result. He took a step forward and came to a stop near the grass Minccino stood on. "What exactly do you think you're waiting for? Get in the ball or don't, I don't care anymore." He tossed a pokeball on the grass in front of Minccino. An olive branch, a symbol of defiance, a cynical ultimatum, he didn't know himself what it should have represented, but the burden of decision lifted off his shoulders like a pile of bricks. Perhaps the gesture was just a coping mechanism, as if to put the blame on Minccino rather than himself for not meeting his impossible standards. He didn't like this line of thought, because it was obvious to himself and any hypothetical higher beings capable of reading his thoughts like posts on a forum that he didn't like such stringent pursuits of perfection, but it was unavoidable and irreconcilable with his goals and obsessive compulsive nature.
He awaited Minccino's response, holding off on threats just yet, already wondering how many days he would have to cover the gardens with mud before Minccino would give back the things it stole.
It took a while, simply, to answer Minccino's challenge with some modicum of sincerity. Troy couldn't help but stand and stare at Minccino, who was expectantly doing the same, waiting for him to send out Shuckle. It felt unnatural, having been strung along by that other student, and it left a sour taste in Troy's mouth, to receive Minccino's gratitude like this. Well, that wasn't all, either.
Troy had skipped over it earlier, but as he brought his pokedex out again, he confirmed that Minccino's ability was Cute Charm. In essence, it was worthless. Blatantly inferior. Troy had made it a point to not rely on his father's resources, barring some widely available vitamins, and ability patches were not easy to come by. Although it seemed like a talented specimen, not even having Technician drastically reduced its usefulness, even as an interrim pokemon. Why is he even doing this? Because he fears Shuckle getting taunted and losing in a dramatically pathetic manner? Because the journey of a successful trainer involves amassing a wide array of tools, many of which quickly become redundant? Because he let himself think finding perfection like the breeders on the Caecilius ranch could be so easy? Troy ran his clean hand through his hair as a scowl tarnished his ever-placid facade. He could feel his composure slip as the frustration mounted. He liked Cinccino. He kinda liked this Minccino. Still, Cute Charm is fucking useless and so is Rivalry. He got wrapped up in capturing Minccino regardless because he was told the Minccino had a stash of garbage he had to retrieve, but seeing this Minccino demand a battle of him, like it was testing him after it already failed his test, pissed him off.
Troy took a deep breath, as he so often found himself doing, fixing the expression on his face. He was an expert at mental resets and no one could tell him otherwise, but he still found himself changing his course of action. A crack in his inflexibly infallible mask. Cognitive dissonance, he thought, as he made the conscious choice to act on his emotions. What difference does it even make? -Since this is all irrelevant to the end result. He took a step forward and came to a stop near the grass Minccino stood on. "What exactly do you think you're waiting for? Get in the ball or don't, I don't care anymore." He tossed a pokeball on the grass in front of Minccino. An olive branch, a symbol of defiance, a cynical ultimatum, he didn't know himself what it should have represented, but the burden of decision lifted off his shoulders like a pile of bricks. Perhaps the gesture was just a coping mechanism, as if to put the blame on Minccino rather than himself for not meeting his impossible standards. He didn't like this line of thought, because it was obvious to himself and any hypothetical higher beings capable of reading his thoughts like posts on a forum that he didn't like such stringent pursuits of perfection, but it was unavoidable and irreconcilable with his goals and obsessive compulsive nature.
He awaited Minccino's response, holding off on threats just yet, already wondering how many days he would have to cover the gardens with mud before Minccino would give back the things it stole.
@wisteria
950
