Chapter Text
It’s a long walk to Artazon. Long enough, and full of enough snipping from each of his partners, that he almost considers taking a shortcut through the Distortion World. If nothing else, that prison dimension is quiet.
“— Obviously, Rabuta Berries are superior to Razz Berries,” Roseli—the Lechonk, not the berry—says. “ Only a masochist would enjoy something that sets their tongue on fire.”
“Oh yeah? And something so nasty it makes you wanna gag is better?” Staravia scoffs from his perch atop Larry’s shoulder. Roseli waddles at Larry’s feet, but unfortunately the distance isn’t enough to keep them from bickering.
“Maybe I should invest in some more pokéballs,” Larry murmurs to himself.
Staravia has one, of course, but he hasn’t officially caught Roseli. He doubts that Staravia would agree to be put away while the Lechonk is out. It would feel like forfeiting the argument, to him.
Fortunately, he can see the Pokémon Center rising over the rocky ridges on the southern outskirts of the town. Larry picks up his pace, careful not to move too quickly. Accidentally gliding over the rough earth wouldn’t be Normal.
“Ooh! The city! I’ve… never actually been in the city.” Roseli’s excited hop turns into a bit of a stumble, and she braces herself against Larry’s leg. “ There’s already so many new smells coming from there…”
“Better smells than yours, I hope,” Staravia mutters.
“Staravia. Manners,” Larry says calmly.
“Yeah, yeah…”
Larry sells a few berries to buy a pokéball at the Pokémon Center, but only holds Roseli inside it for long enough to heal her and Staravia. After seeing her excitement at visiting Artazon, Larry can’t bring himself to let her miss it.
It’s a nice enough city, he thinks. Too quiet for him to easily blend in, most likely, but the windmill turns at a stately pace, and there’s artwork spread about the paths…
Well, Larry isn’t so sure how to feel about the artwork. The Sunflora statues are normal, but most of the other pieces are not.
“It’s like a melty donut,” Staravia laughs, poking his head though the center of an installation titled “Meditative Seat.”
Larry smiles a little. That’s a more pleasant comparison than his initial thought—that these abstract pieces would seem right at home in the Distortion World.
“Hello! It appears your Staravia has good taste!”
The man’s voice startles Larry so thoroughly, he jumps and his elbow clips through the metal structure. Larry quickly schools his expression, hoping the stranger won’t notice.
“Please,” Roseli scoffs, “ Staravia wouldn’t know ‘taste’ if it opened its mouth and ate him.”
“Pfft. That doesn’t even make any sense.”
The stranger doesn’t pay the pokémon any mind, of course. He must be Normal—though his garish spruce-green jacket with a cape attached hardly gives him that appearance.
“Thank you?” Larry says, unsure how he’s meant to respond in this situation.
The man beams, so the response must have been good enough.
“Of course! Did the new installation bring you to Artazon? I’ve been telling Brassie it may even surpass his Surrendering Sunflora, but he’s too modest to believe me.” The man sighs in a rather dramatic fashion. “But he’ll have to see when the tourists come from far and wide to lay their eyes on it! And you have come far, haven’t you?”
The man scans Larry’s dusty suit. The route here hadn’t offered any dry cleaning services.
“Not that far,” Larry protests weakly. No stranger needs to know exactly how long he’s been wandering about in the wild. “And I’m here for the gym, actually.”
“The gym—? Ah. Of course. Forgive me, you didn’t have a Naranja uniform, so I assumed… Well, the gym circuit is open to anyone, not just students! And I’m sure a fresh challenge will also cheer Brassie quite a bit.”
“Who is this ‘Brassie’ anyway?” Roseli asks, sniffing at the stranger’s shoes, as if the scent would give her an answer.
“Brassie?” Larry humors her by asking.
“Oh, my dear Brassius! The artist behind these lovely exhibits, and the Gym Leader behind this city’s challenge.” The man clasps his hands over his heart. “And where are my manners! My name is Hassel. I’m a Gym Leader as well, though only temporarily while the League undergoes some reorganization. I’m currently stationed just north of here, in Levincia.”
Larry tries not to sigh. He must be giving off a truly Abnormal aura to warrant such a detailed explanation. But it is helpful, at least.
“Thank you, Hassel. My name is Larry.” He sticks out his hand stiffly.
Staravia coos as Hassel shakes it.
“Great job, Larry One! You’re making a friend!”
Larry blushes just a little. It isn’t like he’s never made a friend before. He has Staravia, and he had Dawn, and… well now he also has Roseli. She probably counts.
“Wonderful to meet you, Larry! I’m certain I shall see you around. Do give Brassie an inspiring battle for me, won’t you? And then when you’re feeling daring enough, come visit my gym. Best of fortunes to you!”
Larry stares as the man waves and walks away.
“Was he… Normal?” Larry asks. Staravia when he was out of earshot.
“Hmm… I don’t think so! But he was kinda cool, wasn’t he?”
“What makes you think that?” Roseli asks.
“Because he said I have good taste, of course.” Staravia puffs himself up. “ And because he talked to the Larry One without even being forced to.”
Larry sighs. Does his partner think he’s that pathetic? That he can’t create even one Normal human bond of friendship on his own, without external forces coming into play?
Well. Maybe Staravia is right. But Larry hopes he isn’t.
Before entering the gym, Larry takes note of each sculpture, hoping to have something more coherent and thoughtful to say about them the next time he meets Hassel.
XXX
Battling does not appear to be this gym’s greatest challenge. No, much like Cortondo, there is a test of Normalcy to pass first.
He had been lucky to only suffer a few small Distortions while rolling his olive that time—and his aura had permeated the orchard, causing enough other trainers to stick to their giant olives that he hadn’t stood out terribly.
This time, he’s the gym’s only challenger. And so each slow, stuttering step of the Sunflora he gathers feels like another nail in the coffin of his Facade.
“Terrible form. One and a quarter stars,” Roseli tells the eighth Sunflora to join their procession.
“I’m trying!” she protests. “ It’s like I’m trying to wade through Supersweet Syrup!”
Larry slows his own pace, hoping that each jarring, jerking motion from the Sunflora will appear more fluid if they can take their time. It helps a little.
He still attracts strange stares from the Normal citizens strolling the streets. It’s difficult not to rush away from their judgmental eyes.
But none of them says anything. What would they say? Well, maybe they’d think the Sunflora were Poisoned, or under the influence of some other abnormal status effect. If so, the citizens must trust the Gym Leader to take care of it, because they allow Larry, Staravia, and Roseli to round up the remaining two Sunflora without interruption.
It feels like an eternity of attempting to guide the pack of ten back to the Sunflora Lawn. Staravia assists by leading them from above, pointing the most direct route. That route takes them behind the windmill—which, Larry notices with shame, has lost its smooth grace and instead moves Abnormally, each ten-degree turn stuttering, like a cog stuck in a machine. Each of the Sunflora’s steps match it in time, like a television being paused and resumed every half-second.
“This was a bad idea.” Larry pauses, allowing the Sunflora to catch up. If he doesn’t move, will the windmill return to Normal?
…No. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
From atop the windmill, a figure makes eye contact with Larry. His crinkled locks of green hair blow at a completely different rate from the windmill’s turning.
Please don’t be a servant of Arceus, Larry prays… though he isn’t sure to whom.
“Greetings, challenger!” the man calls, and some of Larry’s fear ebbs.
“Hello?”
“You did well to come this far! I am Brassius—an artist specializing in Grass-type Pokémon. I am also the Gym Leader here at the Artazon Gym."
“Oh.” Larry nods. Not a servant of Arceus, but still someone on whom he would like to make a positive impression. Or at least a Normal one. “Yes, Hassel told me about you.”
“Ah, you met Hass, did you?” Brassius shouts down while Staravia flaps a wide circle around his head.
“...I just said that, yes.”
Staravia lands back on Larry’s shoulder.
“Another strange one. His hair looks like a Rowlett’s nest.”
“You mean like your nest, I assume?” Roseli asks primly.
Larry nudges her with his dress shoe—which is beginning to wear out, the sole separating at the toe. Perhaps they can use the prize money from this battle to afford new supplies.
If they win, that is. And, well, if the Gym Leader still agrees to challenge him at all after seeing his Sunflora turned into jittering machines.
“He must have been drawn to an artist such as yourself!” Brassius bellowed. “Your performance today has been truly avant-garde!”
Larry blinks.
“...Come again?”
“Yes, your crisp march with the Sunflora! The increasing tempo as each flower joins your team, building up to your dance with the windmill, of all backdrops! I’ve never seen such a unique and magical display!”
“Ha! He thinks we did this on purpose!” Staravia caws.
“...At least he still thinks we’re pretty?” one of the Sunflora asks.
“He’s crazy! We’d never dance this bad on purpose!” another argues.
Larry attempts to tune out the rest of the bickering that ensues. He’s pretty sure Brassius just tried to shout something else at him, though the wind and distance make words difficult to pick out even when he’s paying perfect attention.
“Excuse me?” Larry asks.
“No need for stage fright! Or are you worried about finishing the Gym Test?” Brassius’s response doesn’t give Larry any answers. “I will give you an A-plus if you will do me the honor of battling while the creative energy is still flowing!”
Oh. He wants to battle already. He could have just said that. …Or maybe he did, and that’s what Larry didn’t hear.
Regardless, Larry is more than happy to dismiss the herd of Sunflora.
“You can make it back on your own, can’t you?” he asks.
“Of course we can!”
“It’ll be way easier without you anyway…”
“Don’t cheat like this when you battle our leader!”
“It’s not cheating,” Staravia snaps at the fleeing pokémon.
“Some of us just can’t help being the way we are,” Roseli agrees with a sniff.
Larry wonders if she’s speaking from experience. It reminds him that he still needs to find some way of protecting his nose.
“Alright. Let’s not keep the Gym Leader waiting,” Larry says, beginning the trek up the stairs to the windmill platform.
“Yeah! Let’s do this!” Staravia squawks in excitement. “ He said he uses Grass types, right? I’m your man! We’ll win faster than you can say ‘Staravia’s awesome and Roseli stinks’!”
“Manners,” Larry reminds him.
Roseli, strangely, doesn’t say anything. Then Larry realizes that’s because she got stuck at the bottom of the stairs.
Eyes widening, he rushes back to pick her up. She’s still trying to get her stubby legs onto the very first step.
“You came back?” she asks once she’s safely in his arms. “ I… had assumed this was your way of saying my assistance will be unnecessary.”
“No, no, of course not,” Larry says quickly, resisting the urge to pinch his nose. “I just forgot. I’m sorry.”
Staravia can fly, and Larry can pass through any substance if he tries to (and often when he doesn’t). He simply isn’t used to having a partner who lacks either of those qualities.
“Does this mean you would like to join the battle?” Larry asks. She hasn’t shown any interest before, but considering what she just said, perhaps that’s only out of a lack of self esteem.
“You’ll let me—? I mean, of course, you’d be helpless without me!” She snorts.
“Ugh… do we have to…?” Staravia groans.
“Staravia. She has been nothing but helpful,” Larry replies with more sharpness than usual.
Staravia must feel it, because he quiets, for once. Larry tries not to feel too guilty for that. Staravia is his first partner, the one who has always been here for him. He’s probably just upset about having to share his “ Legend-Larry One” now.
…Even though he’d been the one to suggest recruiting more teammates.
Larry sighs. Perhaps Staravia is beyond understanding, then.
At the top of the platform, Larry sets Roseli back down and assesses the situation.
The arena looks identical in shape and size to the one in Cortondo. He should have guessed that from the identical Gym buildings he’d visited; this Pokémon League is apparently more standardized than Sinnoh’s. Larry won’t have to worry about terrain hazards.
Brassius still poses dramatically atop the windmill, which has stopped turning for the moment to allow him to balance on one of the blades.
“Brassius—” Larry tries to warn him. There is no telling when another Distortion will send the man clipping through the blade and crashing to the ground.
Before Brassius can crash on accident, though, he leaps from the windmill on purpose—somehow pulling off two flips in mid-air before landing in a crouch, completely unharmed.
“I know you’re gonna ask, Larry One. I’m pretty sure that’s not normal.”
“...Alright then.” Larry nods, blinking.
Brassius frowns, apparently misinterpreting that reaction as unimpressed.
“Everyone’s a critic.” He sighs. Behind him, the windmill again begins to turn at its slow, lurching pace. “Do you wish to challenge me as an artist as well as a trainer?”
“I… am only here to battle,” Larry replies honestly. Are all artists so quick to make assumptions…?
“Yes—no time to waste with words.” Brassius nods, his expression turning serious. “Then I hope you’ll impress me with your style in battle, as well. I trust that you are ready?”
“Born ready, nest-hair!” Staravia caws.
Larry nods, pointing Staravia out onto the battlefield.
Beside his foot, Roseli sniffs quietly, and he winces. He’d promised to battle with her, and already he’s forgotten her again.
No wonder she likes to chatter so much. Apparently even her strong scent isn’t enough for her to draw attention, otherwise.
“I will switch you in. I promise,” Larry tells her.
“You don’t have to try to make me feel better,” she grumbles. “ I just hope I get to see something knock the smirk off that bird’s face…”
Brassius sends out a Petilil, so that outcome is fairly unlikely.
“Art is creation and destruction!” the Gym Leader announces. “Struggle, else your defeat will nourish my Pokémon!”
“Struggle? I’ve got full PP on all my moves, baby!”
Staravia doesn’t wait for Larry’s signal before blowing the Petilil away with a Wing Attack.
We’re supposed to be looking Normal, Larry wants to remind Staravia. He doesn’t, because that wouldn't be Normal, either.
“Though, you could struggle a little less…” Brassius mutters, recalling the fainted Petilil with a glance to the corners of the arena.
A few people have gathered to watch the battle—less than in Cortondo, though that’s probably because Brassius didn’t wait for the Gym to officially begin the match. Still, as before, the crowd makes Larry nervous. Hopefully they will assume the windmill’s erratic motion is just part of Brassius’s show.
There are two more pokéballs on Brassius’s belt. That gives Larry a little bit of time to convince Staravia to let Roseli have a turn.
The second pokémon is a Smoliv, which is quite possibly the only pokémon less threatening than Petilil.
“Staravia… would you be willing to let Roseli have some practice…?” his voice comes out more uncertain than it should. He’s supposed to at least pretend to be a real trainer.
“ Awwwww come on! I can eat this little lady for breakfast!” Staravia caws back at him.
As if to prove the point, Smoliv goes in for a Tackle at Brassius’s command. Her little legs have no chance of propelling her to Staravia’s height.
“Gym Leader? More like Gym… Sucker,” Staravia laughs.
The Smoliv starts to cry. That doesn’t stop her from throwing up a Razor Leaf at her trainer’s instruction. It barely tickles Staravia.
The crowd is laughing by now, too.
“You only have one badge! I’m not allowed to use a team more avant-garde than this,” Brassius stage-whispers.
He must want to impress the crowd with a closer battle. Larry couldn't care less about that, but it does give him a better excuse to send in Roseli.
“Come on, Staravia. I think you’re scaring him.”
“Man, I never get to have any fun…”
Still, Staravia finally obeys, returning to perch on Larry’s shoulder.
“Fighting under these circumstances almost feels like an insult.” Roseli pouts, but she trots up to face the Smoliv.
“A-at least you’re not w-weak to g-g-grass,” Smoliv says, seemingly trying to reassure herself. She launches another Razor Leaf.
Roseli braces herself against the attack, then looks to Larry for instructions.
Larry… does not know any of Roseli’s attacks. He should have checked her Summary from her pokéball before entering the battle.
“Tackle?” he says, but she doesn’t move.
“Come on. You’ve gotta know how to Tackle,” Staravia says in disbelief.
“Tackling is for piglets, and I am level 17, thank you very much! Give me a more elegant command, if you please.”
The crowd’s laughter bubbles with confusion this time. Larry tries not to cringe from it.
“Art is about contrast, not domination.” Brassius nods, looking satisfied. “I appreciate your cooperative spirit.”
Just like before, his words make no sense to Larry. They’re probably not important anyway.
“Then use whatever attack you’d like,” Larry tells Roseli under his breath. Hopefully she can hear him, and the crowd can’t.
“That’s what he usually has me do,” Staravia adds. “ He’s still working on the whole ‘trainer’ thing. Don’t take it personally.”
Larry closes his eyes with a sigh. Unfortunately, Staravia’s right. While that has mostly worked out for them so far, it likely isn’t feasible to leave any pokémon to their own devices. Why would they want to fight alongside him if he has no knowledge or direction to contribute?
This is why he isn’t really a trainer. It’s not his fault that Roseli decided she wants him to be.
“We’ll work on it next time,” Larry says.
Their discussion has taken too long, and Brassius commands Smoliv to go for another Razor Leaf. This time, Roseli narrowly rolls out of the way, and…
Screams?
“Echoed Voice.” Staravia’s head bobs as the shout, well, echoes. “ I don’t know about ‘refined,’ but I guess it works.”
The harsh noise makes Smoliv cry. It only takes a few more seconds of them exchanging leaves and screams for Smoliv to topple over, unable to continue. By then, Larry’s own ears are ringing too.
“Alright, Roseli. Good work. Staravia’s turn again.”
“Already? But I was just getting warmed up…” Still, she waddles back to Larry’s side without him having to ask again. He’s impressed with her for that.
“This battle may become a work of art yet.” Brassius holds his final pokéball to his chest. “Go, my Sudowoodo!”
The pokémon bursts from its ball, and Staravia groans.
“Oh, come on, this isn’t fair…”
It may not be fair, but it is rather clever. If Dawn hadn’t caught a Bonsly on her adventures, Larry wouldn’t have known that it and its evolution were Rock types rather than Grass. Brassius could wipe any unsuspecting Fire- or Flying-type trainer out with little resistance.
Unfortunately, Staravia is a Flying-type. And Roseli, being a pure Normal-type, likely can’t do much to threaten the Sudowoodo either.
“Would you like me to forfeit?” Larry whispers. There’s no point in letting Staravia suffer in a battle they can’t win.
Of course, Staravia would never see things that way.
“What do you take me for?” He puffs out his chest despite his initial apprehension. “ If I’m going down, I’m going down swingin’!”
“So be it.” Larry dips his head. He’s already retracing the most efficient path back to the Pokémon Center in his mind.
Staravia is surely faster than a tree made of stone, at least. He’ll feel better about himself if he gets at least one attack off…
But he doesn’t. Not before Brassius pulls out one of those same strange pokéballs that Katy had.
“Allow me to unveil my latest masterpiece! I will call it... ‘Truleewoodo’!”
After light and wind gathers around the ball, he tosses it atop Sudowoodo. Just like before, crystals encase the pokémon, and then he emerges from his cocoon with a sparkly new hat. This time, it’s in the shape of a sunflower, with a few smaller flowers sprouting around its stem.
“Oh. Okay. Haha. We’re good.” Staravia flaps into the air, no longer worried.
He’s realized what Larry is just putting together. Those strange pokéballs can change a pokémon’s type—the process Katy called “terastallization,” if he remembers and understands correctly. That was why Katy’s Teddiursa easily fell to Staravia’s Wing Attack. That’s why Brassius would now call his Sudowoodo a “true” wood.
Does every Gym Leader in Paldea employ this unusual tactic? Wouldn’t it be easier to simply build a team of only one type to begin with?
But of course, Brassius is an artist, and doesn’t seem concerned about doing anything the easy way.
Staravia goes for the Wing Attack, and Larry sees Sudowoodo’s health bar drop into the red.
Wonderful. You’re back, Larry thinks in exasperation at the illusion. He knows that most trainers cannot visualize their pokémon’s stamina on such a linear, color-coordinated scale—not unless they were to view it on a pokéball’s Summary screen, which doesn’t update dynamically in battle. Dawn had said that half the reason she kept Larry in her party was for the helpful Distortion, which had assisted her in defeating Sinnoh’s Elite Four and Champion. Larry tried not to feel like it was cheating, since Dawn and her team were likely strong enough to have triumphed regardless.
Larry is so preoccupied with willing away that floating vision that he almost misses Staravia’s own health bar being shattered in one hit.
“What?” he gasps as Sudowoodo’s Rock Slide crashes down atop Staravia, who crumples under the barrage. “Staravia!”
“Nngh…” the bird pokémon grunts from where his beak sticks out of the rocks. “ I’m sorry, Larry One. Tell Roseli… to avenge meeeee…”
Larry relaxes a little. If Staravia can be this dramatic, he’ll live.
“You did well, Staravia.” Larry calls him back into his pokéball, since he’s not really sure how else to get him out from under the impromptu avalanche. “Roseli, are you willing to continue?”
“And get to rub this in Staravia’s face later?” Her curly tail wags as her ears lower menacingly over the tops of her eyes. “ I wouldn’t turn down this chance for the world’s tastiest berry. …No, I definitely would. But this will be delightful nonetheless.”
“Thank you. And be careful.” He pats her on the head before she trots onto the field.
At first he thinks she’s trying to take the most direct route through the rock pile, but he quickly realizes that this is her plan of attack—the move Dig. Since the arena is on a raised platform, the rock pile is the only form of earth to burrow in.
The burrowing, surprisingly, works alright. Roseli’s hooves are stronger than Larry gave her credit for; she continues to Dig and remains unharmed when Sudowoodo attempts to rain more rocks on her from thin air.
The attack itself, unfortunately, is less effective. Not Very Effective, in fact. Roseli’s ears flap up in shock.
“Good try, friend!” The Sudowoodo grins and uses Trailblaze, bending down and launching himself like a rocket across the field.
The health bars of both pokémon still float like phantoms in Larry’s vision. He doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks Roseli shouldn’t have lost a quarter of her HP to the attack.
So the transformation—terastallization—overwrites a pokémon’s type entirely, Larry takes note. Weaknesses, resistances, and attack bonuses are altered accordingly… but the types of one’s moves are not.
Roseli wasn’t there for the battle with Katy, though. She’s putting on a brave facade, but she doesn’t understand what this new mechanic means.
She needs the help of a trainer who does.
“Roseli!” he calls right before she can attempt another Dig. “Echoed Voice!”
To her credit, she doesn’t question him at all. Her scream begins to build in power, even when interrupted by Sudowoodo’s Trailblazes and Rock Slides—a few of which she miraculously manages to dodge.
Her final scream is ear-piercing—even against a pokémon with no ears. The crystalline sheen around Sudowoodo’s body shatters, and his hat falls with it. Roseli still doesn’t stop screaming until Brassius actually returns Sudowoodo to his pokéball, at which point her voice peters off, leaving only the echo that eventually fades away.
The battlefield is silent. And then the crowd erupts into cheers and applause.
“Avant-garde!” Brassius clutches his head, shaking in a way that might or might not be for show.
Larry hopes that it is. Hassel probably wouldn’t appreciate Larry causing his friend genuine distress.
“Thank you?” Larry steps forward to join Roseli in the center of the arena, where the squad of Sunflora have already returned to begin clearing the rocks away. They glare at him as they pass, but their movement seems far less impeded than before.
“Yes, as much as I hate to be bested, your artistry is admirable!” Brassius gets ahold of himself, frustration shifting to praise more quickly than a gust of wind. “Forcing me into a corner, then lulling me into a false sense of security with your Staravia! Not even flinching before Truleewoodo! I suppose you have seen terastallization before, since you have Katy’s badge, but I was still hoping to surprise you… ah, well. Novelty in art can only take you so far.”
He shakes his head and smiles. “Regardless, your Lechonk impressed me the most. I’m feeling a surge of inspiration from her divine voice! Her unwavering courage!”
Roseli bounces a little at the praise.
“Yes, I must channel this into a new artwork at once—!” Brassius exclaims. “Oh, but first your badge, of course.”
He pins the Grass Badge to Larry’s lapel below the Bug Badge. Larry can’t help wishing that there was a prize to bestow upon Roseli as well.
“We did it, Larry One!” she oinks, and he tries his best not to choke at hearing Staravia’s nickname from her mouth.
Instead he smiles awkwardly, shakes Brassius’s hand, and accepts the Technical Machine for Trailblaze that he offers. Maybe Roseli would enjoy learning that move as a reward? One way or another, he will have to repay her for this victory.
It’s only the Normal thing to do.