[X] My Assistant

[Troy Bolton]

The search was uneventful, but Woodrow did stumble across a strangely smooth rock [!], which he pocketed. He thought that it might be fun to skim it across the river on their way back, but promptly forgot all about it. He also named his Gyrados 'Aegis,' with no rhyme or reason other than it sounding a cool name.

"Nothing else for it, I suppose. We'll just have to head back. Bluffs could probably tell you what that queer rock is worth, if anything. And don't worry about my Pokemon, if it comes down to it, I'll use Aegis or I'll go back home and borrow Beatnik from my folks. Well, before the contest, we'll..." He was stymied. What did one do before a contest? Despite all of his bluster and fate-assurance, Woodrow still was an newcomer to contests. Go over a few manuvres, change clothes, attempt not to soil said finery with jitters-vomit, groom your Pokemon...and that was pretty much it.

"Oh, my folks. Would you like to come to dinner? You look like your last meal was from some hamburger stand!"

"You do have a suit on you, right? For the contest?...Nay, I didn't expect you to. No worries- you can borrow one of my old ones. Let me just call me mother, to announce the regal Prince Zeke's presence gracing our humble hallows." Ignoring Zeke's splutters,

He tapped his cell phone, hitting the speed dial '2' for "home."

This'd be a great talk...

~`~`~`~`~

After the Marvelous Two Second Verbal Tongue-Lashing Program from Natalie Spencer (with Added I-Can't-Stay-Mad Bonus!), Woodrow confirmed his and Zeke's spot at dinner, as well as noting that the Spencers had invited three other families to eat that day.

"Okay, let's head out." Beside him, Otoro mock-sparred with Croagunk, performing Thunderpunch after Thunderpunch, which Croagunk dispelled by grounding himself.

Before delving into the choking stink of the metro once more, Woodrow gave one last wistful look at the river. He was surprised to see a figure wave at him from the opposite bank, and even more surprised to see said figure leap over the river and jog over to him. If the trainer had the presence of mind to scan the figure, the reading might've looked like this.

TYGNON - Pokémon Puncheur

On raconte qu'il a l'état d'esprit d'un boxeur s'entraînant pour le championnat du monde. Il a une ténacité à toute épreuve et n'abandonne jamais.

"Chan!" The Pokemon pointed at Otoro excitedly, mimicking his Thunderpunch manuvre.

"You were the one who helped us during the Gyrados fight!" said Woodrow, something clicking to place in his mind."

"Chaan!" Hitmonchan jumped in the air, nodding, then mimicked Thunderpunch again.

"Oh, I see, you want to learn Thunderpunch, eh? Well, come with me, and I'll sort you out well enough. You wish to join me, yes?"

"Chaan~!" Grinning, Woodrow dug into his pack. He maximised the Friend Ball, lightly tapping the Punching Pokemon's outstretched glove. It flickered red for a moment, then disappeared into the sphere.

"Well, there we are. Maestro, if you would?" Ariana, from behind, went into a number from "Staying Alive" from the Bee Gees.


(You can walk them through the theater, metro, to Woodrow's, if you so desire. I apologize for not adding the conversation- posting on the Droid is not a superfuntime! I'll edit moar once I get to an actual computer.)

Woodrow caught a level 21 Hitmonchan.

[Webbyness]

Another thing to worry about, it seemed. Zeke was totally unprepared for his contest debut, having no outfit to wear, no music, no thrilling and unique performances - he was like a fish out of water. However, Woodrow's kindness shone a light of salvation for him, but the thought of attending dinner at a presumably presitigious and stately home seemed overwhelming and overly unnecessary. With no say in the matter, Zeke resigned himself to his impeding doom (overreacting comes naturally to him) and obeyed Woodrow with mild reluctance.

With a small hold-up in the form of Hitmonchan, the group began to move once again, quite obviously not for the last time, and headed back down into the rundown metro. Having passed through already, it seemed familiar to Zeke, and even the powerful stench from their previous visit seemed to be more comforting. Passing by more groups of nervous Rattata, the group encountered no problems - the wild Pokémon understood they were armed and dangerous. Even reaching the fresh air didn't seem as relieving as it had done before, showing Zeke had adjusted to the nitty gritty life of Arasam. A little. He still had much to learn, but with little reason to remain within the confines of Arasam, there was really no need to bother learning. Alas, t'would seem such a shame, but adjusting to Arasam's darker side in the company of the the most refined man in Arasam would seem... ironic?

Trailing behind Woodrow like a faithful pet, Zeke never sought to question where they were going; knowing he was visiting Woodrow's home seemed to satisfy his mind. With Croagunk mimicking his joyful strolling, Zeke spent a lot of time gazing upon the stretch of road in which the group was following, taking note of the obvious difference between this area and the open streets and winding alleyways at Arasam's heart. The buildings looked more... clean? More polished, maybe? Something made them seem more impressive, at least. Something more than the white paint used all too much on these buildings. Turning back to observe one of the buildings more carefully, Zeke felt himself fall back into Woodrow, quickly forcing himself to stand upright in surprise.
"S-Sorry Woodrow!" cried Zeke, bowing his head in shame. However, when no reply could be heard, Zeke tilted his head upward slightly, and gazed upon the building beyond them. "Is... is this it? Your house?"