Happy sixth anniversary, Thousand Roads! I've got three stupid little stories here from my Drabble Bingo card, which had the overarching theme of Johto. The specific prompts are at the bottom of the post in a spoiler tag.
1.
Mechanical issues never fazed veteran elevator repair technicians like Braxton. What fazed him now were the forty expert trainers and their teams of deadly, high-level Pokémon watching him work, grumbling in mounting impatience. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he attempted one last control-relay replacement, and…
It worked. The elevator whirred to life. He let out a tremendous sigh of relief, then scurried out of the crowd’s way.
“Apologies for the delay, everyone.”
Not one word of thanks. He hoped it would be a long, long time until he got a call from the Battle Tower again.
2.
“Don’t wanna talk, huh?”
Officer Jenny drummed her fingers on the metal table. More than anything, she hated the crooks who fancied themselves loyal or principled.
“Three of your ‘friends’ ratted you out earlier this week. If you won’t give us the other names, we can beat ’em out of someone, and they’ll know whose fault it is.”
Nothing. The perp stared at his shoes.
“Talk!”
Finally, he raised his sunken face, and stared her dead in the eye. His lips moved for the first time since she’d dragged him into the station hours ago.
“…Today’s not Saturday,” said Santos.
3.
“It’s now been one hundred minutes since the starting gun. Still no change.”
“Al, we’ve been doing this a long time, but I don’t think we’ve seen this before.”
“Definitely not, John. And if this continues until the event gets called on account of darkness, it will be the longest event in Pokéathlon history by three solid hours.”
“Now, the referee could still call it before then?”
“Indeed, that’s about the only element of suspense left today. An absolute travesty by the event schedulers.”
Down on the track, the Diglett, Dugtrio, and Ditto continued to stare up at the hurdles.
*********
1.
Mechanical issues never fazed veteran elevator repair technicians like Braxton. What fazed him now were the forty expert trainers and their teams of deadly, high-level Pokémon watching him work, grumbling in mounting impatience. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he attempted one last control-relay replacement, and…
It worked. The elevator whirred to life. He let out a tremendous sigh of relief, then scurried out of the crowd’s way.
“Apologies for the delay, everyone.”
Not one word of thanks. He hoped it would be a long, long time until he got a call from the Battle Tower again.
*********
2.
“Don’t wanna talk, huh?”
Officer Jenny drummed her fingers on the metal table. More than anything, she hated the crooks who fancied themselves loyal or principled.
“Three of your ‘friends’ ratted you out earlier this week. If you won’t give us the other names, we can beat ’em out of someone, and they’ll know whose fault it is.”
Nothing. The perp stared at his shoes.
“Talk!”
Finally, he raised his sunken face, and stared her dead in the eye. His lips moved for the first time since she’d dragged him into the station hours ago.
“…Today’s not Saturday,” said Santos.
*********
3.
“It’s now been one hundred minutes since the starting gun. Still no change.”
“Al, we’ve been doing this a long time, but I don’t think we’ve seen this before.”
“Definitely not, John. And if this continues until the event gets called on account of darkness, it will be the longest event in Pokéathlon history by three solid hours.”
“Now, the referee could still call it before then?”
“Indeed, that’s about the only element of suspense left today. An absolute travesty by the event schedulers.”
Down on the track, the Diglett, Dugtrio, and Ditto continued to stare up at the hurdles.
*********
- Battle Tower
- Santos
- Pokéathlon