PokèDruids [PkmnWattys2016]

A Pokemon Battle?

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You know, I've looked back at all I've written and think about how old I am and how wrong I think this is. I shouldn't be doing this. I mean, look at all the plot holes and terrible writing and the quality of this. All I could ask myself is one thing.

How am I the best damn writer in Pokemon fanfiction? I mean, I am the utter best at everything when it comes to writing. Don't believe me? Then how did you get this far, hmm?

This is why I'd like to host the first and last centennial "Best damn writer on Wattpad" competition. From what the polls say, there's really only one contestant, and that's HaterOfTheYear. He's the only one with talent on Wattpad, as evidenced in 100% of his works. He even scored a 7/10 on the storyline section of the test. Why don't we give me a medal?

Oh, and the only other contestant is "VoteTradz22345". Go figure. Well, I'll post the results next week, but we know how it'll end.
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"You want to..."

"Do a Pokemon battle."

Eros mentally scoffed a bit at this, which he found alien to himself. "Hank, not to be mean or anything, but I have a ton more Pokemon than you."

Hank frowned at this. As if to signal the formation of a crowd, despite the fates not having it end that way, some of the Mudkip-Druids surfaced and listened in to the two occasionally, not understanding just how much longer than they the other two were Druids. Of course, that's not saying there's a massive power difference between them and Eros. Not at all. "What do you mean? You can use Sicily and Xerxes and I get Surge and Dusk. Easy peasy."

"You get Dusk?"

"Come on!" Hank raises his arms, as if his voice hadn't made a good enough point. "You are always taking Xerxes with you on your missions and I always go with Dusk. He and I are buddies..."

Eros shrugs. "Fine, if we are doing this, you can be with Dusk, and I'll be with Xerxes. That is, if they choose so. And not until after I take a nap. For what I've been through-"

"Yeah, yeah, you almost married Sicily, I got the brief." Hank was rather nonchalant about this. "So what, maybe at six? I mean, it'll be a little dark by then, but it's not like it'd be unsuitable for battle."

"Sure, sure... Six it is." Eros thought a bit, suddenly realizing something. "Didn't you do some training while I was gone?"

"Ah!" Hank grimaced even more, showing his pride in what he had accomplished. "I HAVE been training. But that'll be my trump card. Ha-HA!" Hank bowed and disappeared into the foliage, not unlike something Eros swore he saw on TV before.

How powerful could Hank have become while he was gone? And how was he going to use this magic? Eros was almost denying what he knew to be the truth, the trick he had up his sleeve...

Maybe ten hours have passed. It was much to far into the evening to reveal the sun on the horizon, although it still had the capability to bring light atop the fort, shining a dull, red wash as vigilant as its father itself. Visibility was but slightly altered, making reading and fine inspection the only things difficult for this time. Most of the Druids have returned inside the walls, taking up their rooms and keeping quiet and to themselves, almost submerging the fort in a sense of its former state, in which it felt mostly abandoned.

Aside from the soft scent of bread floating about the cafeteria, the humid airs from the ocean wafting its salt and sand over the walls and through the fort. Only a Cricketot or two dared to break the silence, resinating its sound throughout the forest and buildings. Eros sat silently along one of the ledges above the courtyard, which seemed to double as a practice field. Rough cobblestone with grass growing through the cracks formed the ground, although it didn't seem to crest above the stone. He remembered the old wooden dummies that lined the sides of the courtyard, rotten and marked with a multitude of scratches, chips and splinters. They were long since removed and stored, although it does appear somebody had pulled one or two out and attempted to grow a sapling out of its head. The only thing marking the bounds and perimeter of the yard were the stone or concrete structures at its sides, with a few alleyways and a wide path or two interrupting the bound. Where Eros sat, a catwalk loomed over just the edge of this rectangle, giving a view only matched by the ledge on the opposing side.