[BATTLE] LESSA VS SURGE

[lou]

ROUND 2
LESSA VS. SURGE
BATTLE COMMENCE

[lessa]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true]	[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-right: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-left: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; height: 20px;]
[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-left: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; width: 20px;]	[atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,border: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed;] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 9px; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dotted; padding-left: 4%;]Havoc! and let slip the hounds of war [style=background: url(http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x220/FireflyK/Lessa%20-%20LF/hPI9F.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center center; border-radius: 66px; border: 1.5px #f2bc1c dotted; height: 75px; width: 75px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;] [/style] It smells like salt and sulfur. Outside, waves crash. Under her feet, the floors shudder. Beside her, Verlaine spits small smidgens of flame. Rimbaud licks the cave walls, her tail held up like a cat’s. There’s a gun on Lessa’s hip and another in her bag. Her boots are slim-fitted, waterproof. She’s dressed in well-worn, sturdy clothes. Her hair’s tied back. Back in her sentinel days, she wore armor. Bulletproof vest. Steel-toed boots. A feather carried in her breast pocket for luck. She doesn’t feel like a sentinel. An ex-sentinel. She doesn’t even feel like a soldier. She feels like Admin Hartman, Violet City’s favorite Halloween festival leader, the city’s red-ribbon cutter. She feels like she belongs behind a desk, not out scouting the caves for straggling attackers. A soft sound echoes down, and Verlaine and Mightyena howl as one. Lessa slides her fingers around the stiff grip of her gun and waits. [/style]	[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-right: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; width: 20px;]
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[cs=3] ✲ AMB Tanz

[surge]

The resurgence of salt and sulfur within the air came as a relief to the blood-soaked Surge. Hours had been spent recollecting what he could from Stefan’s tax, bandaging both himself and his battered Dragonite. Only through the extensive use of his Glaceon’s WISH did the two manage to recuperate—if you could call it that. Hours had passed and Surge had kept Lux from setting foot on the island for half an hour longer than what they had expected, using what time they had to rest while Nox broke out to repeal the invaders.

Sleep never came easily nor did it ever last long enough for the restless brute. With a groan, he came around, doing his best to adjust his movements to the confines of a thick layer of gauze. After a moment of frustration, the bandage proving detrimental when considering the current nature of the island, he rips it off before leaving the small pocket of the cavern he had been using as shelter.

With his mission considered a great success, there was nothing left to anchor Surge to the ugly island of Seafoam. Kanto might be his land, and rightfully so, but there was little solace for him here. Whoever controlled Seafoam meant little to the ambitious Gym Leader. There were bigger, more important lands that needed to be liberated. What was the less deformed sister of Cinnabar but another deformed glacier of cooled earth?

Whatever remnants of sleep that might have plagued Surge—if any at all—were graciously taken care of by the two canines. Instead, they were replaced with the nausea of cautiousness, bringing the Glaceon at his feet to a halt with a show of his hand. Silently, he pulled a pokeball from his pocket, allowing his Magnezone to come out and serve as his front guard.

With the cavern twisting into a corner, Surge motions for the Magnezone to stand behind him. Ready for the slightest command, the Magnezone levitates behind him thanks to the always useful MAGNET RISE. Even with the heel of his boot scrunching against the rock under him, Surge does his best to put Koga to shame. Noiselessly, he waits inches away from where the rock wall stops.

If the source of the noise is directly on the other side then whoever is quicker to the draw wins.

If they’re not then he has the higher ground, protected by a thick layer of protection.

The suspense does little to bother him; Surge is patient. Still, he knows that the longer he stays on the island the more prone he is to having to either clean up whatever is left of both Nox and Lux forces. So, hesitantly, he dares to a sliver of his eye to peek out from his position, drawing back within the same moment.

Someone’s there—he’s sure of it. How should he proceed? He has a rough idea of what to do but fighting is the last of his concerns. If he can leave without a scratch, or having to cut someone up, he’ll leave a happy man.

[lessa]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true]	[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-right: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-left: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; height: 20px;]
[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-left: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; width: 20px;]	[atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,border: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed;] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 9px; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dotted; padding-left: 4%;]Havoc! and let slip the hounds of war [style=background: url(http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x220/FireflyK/Lessa%20-%20LF/3NhUFs_zpsdfec5a0c.jpg); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center center; border-radius: 66px; border: 1.5px #f2bc1c dotted; height: 75px; width: 75px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;] [/style] Lessa pauses at the bend of the cave. By her side, Verlaine whines, unused to seeing hesitation in her trainer. For a moment, the woman’s yellow eyes narrow, as she tries to step back into a role she left behind. Back in the sentinel days, there’d have been no vacillation. She’s been on the island for hours, but every move’s been made with careful premeditation, rather than her usual bold spontaneity. The time for careful planning has passed, however. Lessa whispers a command to Verlaine, and the impatient dog leaps forward. Flame starts to build at the corner of her mouth. Never one to be left out or outdone, Rimbaud leaps into action with a Me First. Flames flow from her mouth , shooting forcefully around the corner. Moments later, Verlaine’s Flamethrower joins it, sending a double stream of flame through the cave. The smell of sulfur is stifling. In the narrow caves, it hardly matters whether one is upwind or downwind. There’s nowhere for the smell of Verlaine’s flame to disperse, so Lessa can do nothing but bear it. Of more pressing concern- the smell is unpleasant, but not fatal- is the possibility of the attack being reflected. Should it be sent back, she’s directly in the line of fire. With this possibility in mind, she keeps a hand on her pokeballs, ready to call out another to aid her if necessary. [/style]	[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-right: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; width: 20px;]
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[cs=3] ✲ AMB Tanz

[surge]

Hesitance is a precaution that Surge cannot afford to ignore but one that graces his opponent with a decisive edge. Often time, the first move can determine exactly how the battle will flow and the momentum of the attacker’s intention. Crackling flames tell of a fierce start and Surge is quick to get his Blastoise onto the field, chucking the ball with a desperate haste. The Shellfish pokemon is no virgin to the heat of battle, he’s ready-- primed to take the front lines with a reliable PROTECT. A green, luminous shield forms around the Blastoise, soaking up the greedy flames as they converge. The tortoise croaks, just a little bit too pleased with the results. He knows a simple frontal assault like that will never make it pass his patient defense.

But now Lessa has made her intentions known; she is an enemy and one who aims to roast him. It’s disappointing, really, but Surge is more than happy to oblige her. The American has been trained into being vindictive, to take out any hostile with extreme prejudice. Steamrolling through her is his only means of proceeding and Surge is not one to be kept back.

“Snow them in.”

The command is a whisper but holds a sternness behind it which makes it absolute. Together, the Glaceon and Magnezone round the corner, exposed, and fully able to unleash their combination attack. The Glaceon opens up with a BLIZZARD, allowing a steady stream of harsh snow to escape her opened maw. It’s relentless, frigid, and hides the smell of sulfur under the tundra’s ferocity. But the snowstorm never howls, the wind is stale and overshadowed by the blaring SUPER SONIC echoing off the vibrating Magnezone.

Before the League took over, Seafoam was supposed to be a complicated mass of hallowed, frozen dirt. Those who dared to challenge the land were eaten alive, left to wallow in confusion in her tunnels as the island went below freezing. It had been years since Seafoam had last taken a victim and who was Surge to deny her?

Electricity may be his forte but Surge knows a plethora of ways to break down the living body. Frostbite just so happens to be one of them.

[lessa]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true]	[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-right: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-left: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; height: 20px;]
[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-left: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; width: 20px;]	[atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,border: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed;] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 9px; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dotted; padding-left: 4%;]Theory must be tempered by reality [style=background: url(http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x220/FireflyK/Lessa%20-%20LF/q4Fo7s_zps9f7fe925.jpg); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center center; border-radius: 66px; border: 1.5px #f2bc1c dotted; height: 75px; width: 75px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;] [/style] From around the corner, Lessa’s unable to see the results of her attack. That’s probably just as well, as if she knew she was facing a Pokemon with the ability to simultaneously put itself in the path of two separate attacks, she’d probably turn tail and run for it. Lessa hears the a rush of air that signals an attack, but she’s only human. Ideally, she'd summon forth a Pokemon able to absorb or deflect the attacks, but sadly idealism melts away in the face of reality. Though Lessa's hands are only inches from her belt already, she's unable to palm a pokeball before the attack strikes. The limitations of biology descend; for what person can match the superhuman reflexes of a Pokemon? Lessa can do nothing but watch as the blizzard descends on her party. Rimbaud has slunk forward in the cave, and it’s she who takes both the blizzard and the supersonic. The Pokemon responds with a roar of pain, and shakes her head, trying to get rid of the last of the ice which has fallen on it. The return volley tells Lessa that her attacks have failed, that her opponents are still able to fight. In fact, the speed with which they were returned implies no damage or hinderance at all, which is troubling. Rather than fight further, she swaps strategies. Lest she injure herself in confusion, Rimbaud is recalled, and Lessa replaces her with an old friend. Nahuachtli’s form barely fits within the cave, he’s forced to bow his head to avoid it crashing through the rock face above. The steel Pokemon lets out a soft croon as Lessa rests a hand near the bottom of its enormous bulk. Then, he turns, pausing for a moment to use rock polish before diving under the ground. It’s easy to parry a frontal attack, but how will her foes handle the very ground dropping out beneath them? Nahuachtli’s dig will leave a tunnel, a cavern the size of his massive body. And once this is dug and he returns to Lessa, well, nature abhors a void. She needs only to wait until her Steelix can accomplish its mission, and with luck, Rimbaud’s roar will buy her the time she needs. If not, Verlaine is ready with a sucker punch, lest anything expose itself and attack. It's a ruthless attack, particularly considering she has no clue as to the identity of her foe. There could well be another member of Lux on the other side of the dividing wall, the curve in the cave. But Lessa cares little for this. The old days, old ways thrum through her, recent memories of sitting at a desk discarded for the muscle-deep memories of past battles. Lessa is not a believer in destiny or innate talents or purposes; what you become is not what you are meant to be but what you transform yourself into. But this is, without a doubt, the path she had chosen, long before her position as a sentinel made it 'official'. She steps back onto it with ease, watching without remorse as the earth begins to shake beneath her feet. [/style]	[atrb=style,border-top: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-bottom: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; border-right: 1.5px #f2bc1c dashed; width: 20px;]
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[cs=3] ✲ AMB Tanz

[lou]

VICTOR: LESSA

+300 to Lux