Re: The Short Travelled Road
The Sun rose. The next day dawned. Max rose from his bed, grabbing a shirt. Today was the day when he might actually win the Club Battle. Only the semi-finals and the finals lay before him. He had spent the night looking up Imogen Miller. On the Club Battle website she was the tournament favourite, although other than that she had kept herself conspicuous. There were no videos of her battling, no critics had published works on her, the only references to her were in official records, of gyms and Battle Clubs. She was an unknown quantity, easily able to size Max up.
He rose from bed, grabbing the three Poké Balls that he intended to use for the match. He knew Imogen's signature Pokémon, Gothorita, was a Psychic-type, and he knew the types that they struggled against. If he won this battle he would probably become the tournament favourite to boot. He held the Poké Balls up to his lips and kissed them.
"Come on guys, I'm relying on you," he whispered, putting the tiny capsules back in his pocket. He had market each Poké Ball with a small sticker to denote their identities. Dylan ran up to him.
"Good luck Max," he said as he came to a halt. He was well dressed, wearing a suit, and a bowler hat that covered his trimmed black hair. Ever since leaving Castelia by boat Max had never once seen Dylan in anything other than his pinstriped suit. Today he was wearing a solemn blue tie.
"Thanks Dylan, hopefully I'll only need skill," Max replied. He didn't believe what he was saying. All trainers relied on a bit of skill, no matter how small a part. He walked out of the Pokémon Centre, followed by his friend. The Club Battle was just down the road from the Centre and a small crowd had gathered by the entrance. He even saw a camera there, with a reporter. They were interviewing the semi-finalists, it seemed. A man came up to Max before he entered the stadium.
"Hey, mate, there's a back entrance to the battlefield if you want to use it," he whispered in Max's ear. The man reeked of cigarettes, and his voice croaked in the dry air. Max looked at him, then the crowd. This might be his moment to become seen, to be recognised.
"No thanks, I think I'll risk it," he replied to the smoker.
"Suit yourself, don't say I didn't warn you." Max continued and Dylan followed, a few paces behind. As they approached the funnel into the stadium Max saw a girl talking to the camera. She looked about his age, with long, flowing blonde locks. She was dressed in a white blouse, a jacket and a grey skirt. Judging by the swarm of questions she was Imogen Miller. Max heard a reporter questionning her.
"Imogen, given your easy progression through the tournament, how hard do you think your next opponent's going to be?" the man asked, holding a michrophone to the Trainer's mouth. He was dressed in a suit and Max recognised him as Harry Endigger, the Tournament correspondant for UNC, Unova's main news broadcasting corporation.
"Max Park, although with potential, doesn't look like too difficult an opponent. I'm sure that I can take him with two Pokémon. He relies on a very basic battling style and could be thrown by the basest of tricks." She replied. Her boast raised gasps from the assembled crowd. Endigger raised his eyebrows and gave a small chuckle.
"Yes, I would expect as much from the Blazing Girl. Thank you Imogen, but you must get to your battle." The girl progressed through the funnel, to where the battlefield awaited. Max walked into the funnel, and himself was stopped by Endigger.
"So, the last contestant today, and the number two seed, good morning Max Park," the reporter greeted him. Max took a deep breath. He must stay calm, even with this slimy reporter.
"Good morning, Mr Endigger," he replied. "How may I help?"
"First question, what do you think of the bookies' odds of 5-1 against you winning this, and the 3-1 odds that she won't have to use all of her Pokémon?" The statistic hit Max hard but he shrugged, the shoulders of his hoodie bouncing up and down. He thrust his hands in his jeans pockets.
"As poor as those odds are I am not here to win the battle. I am here to challenge, to fight, and to please the crowds," he replied. "As for your second statistic, I hope to defy that one." He put on the air of a resigned loser, hoping that he could pose the underdog. Endigger carried on the offensive, posing another question.
"What do you think of Imogen Miller's comment just now, about your strategy?"
"If a tactic makes me win, then it works. If she beats me today then tomorrow I will improve," Max answered, full of confidence for some reason. He turned from the reporter, walking into the stadium.
Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the semi-finals of the Flocessy Town Club Battle! A voice announced. The crowds cheered enthusiastically, showing their appreciation. Our first battle of the day is Imogen Miller vs Max Parks, the number one and two seed of the tournament respectively. This is going to be an exciting match, and it's not even the finals yet! Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to our two battlers! The applause increased, almost overwhelming Max as he stepped out into the circular stadium. Before him stood a battlefield, where his fate would be decided. He pulled out a Poké Ball. Already he knew who he was going to start off with. He fingered the wavy grey lines that he had implanted on the ball.
“Go Golett!” he called, releasing the Poké Ball. The small Pokémon emerged, its head peaking out of its spherical body. At this point he looked at his opponent for the first time. Imogen Miller was quite short, just over 5'1", and didn't look particularly threatenning. Her blonde hair flowed down past her shoulders, down the black jacket that she was wearing. She was beautiful, Max realised, although it stirred up no affection for him.
“So, you thought that type advantage would beat me. Let me show you how wrong you were. Go, Gothorita!” She threw a capsule spinning threw the air that unleashed what looked like a small purple child, in a black dress, with two black buns. "You may have the first move."
"Okay, Golett, show her what you're worth, use Shadow Punch!" he commanded. Golett held its fists in front of it, and two, shadow-like, fists emerged, firing straight towards the Gothorita. Shadow Punch was a Ghost-type move and super effective against Gothorita.
"Gothorita, Shoot two drums with your unicorn!" she called. Shoot two drums with your unicorn, what did that mean? As the Shadow Punch approached Gothorita jumped in the air, spinning about before landing on the floor. The Shadow Punch continued before hitting the transparent barrier that covered the battlefield. Somehow Imogen's words had made Gothorita dodge, but what was the code behind them?
"Golett, use Gyro Ball!" Max ordered. Golett's head tucked into its body, along with its arms and feet, and it started to spin. The spinning increased until a silver band of energy appeared around the Pokémon. It shot forward, like a spinning top, heading towards Gothorita.
"Gothorita, Dance in Castles of marble pillars!" his opponent commanded. Gothorita glowed with a strange blue light and, across the battlefield, Golett started to glow with the same aura. The Ghost-type flew off its course, slamming into the barrier. It slumped on the floor. Gothorita had used Confusion, a Psychic attack that had the powers of telekinesis. Imogen followed up on the offensive. "Gothorita, Fly in silky smooth magical balloons to Sinnoh!" she commanded. Gothorita prepared a ball of pure antimatter, that it fired at Golett. The Shadow Ball smacked into Golett and it collapsed, fainted.
"Golett, return." Max sent the Pokémon back into its capsule, and put it back into his pocket. Clearly type advantage didn't work. He withdrew a Poké Ball, a flame inprinted on it. He threw it and Pignite leapt out of its capsule.
"Pignite, Flame Charge!" he commanded. Pignite kicked dust into the ground and, while covered in it, enveloped himself in flame. He flew, a fiery meteor, towards Gothorita.
"Gothorita, kill the Cacturne and dance on its body!" Imogen called to her Psychic-type. Max knew what the attack was before it was coming, Confusion. Pignite started to glow and the flames dissipated. He hung in the air, useless.
"Pignite, use Ember on Gothorita now!" he ordered. Pignite spat out small flames at Gothorita. The Psychic-type couldn't control more than one thing at once, and it couldn't help but be hit by the embers. It lost control of Pignite and the Fire Pig Pokémon gracefully landed on the ground. "Flame Charge again!" the fiery attack landed on Gothorita this time, flinging the other Pokémon across the stadium. It couldn't move, and had fainted. Imogen grabbed another Poké Ball from inside her jacket.
"Go, Purloin, show them what you're made of!" Imogen called. The capsule opened and a dark cat-like Pokémon landed on the ground.
"You may go first," Max said, mocking his opponent. She blushed on the field, and a few people in the audience chuckled.
"Very well, if you wish, Purloin, dance on the serpentine tail of ardent fire!" she called. The Purloin kicked up a sandy cloud on the battlefield, and Pignite rubbed its eyes, trying to rid them of the dust. Purloin had used Sand-Attack, a move that decreased accuracy.
"Pignite, use Flame Charge!" Max commanded. The Fire Pig Pokémon enveloped itslef in flame, and sped towards Purloin. The attack went eary, however, and Pignite's aim was a little off. It missed Purloin by an inch and skidded to a stop.
"Purloin, meet Fire with Fire, and make speedy end to this match!" Purloin jumped in the air, its claws glowing. It was about to use Fury Swipes or Scratch. At Max's command Pignite thrust its arms forward, slamming into Purloin and driving it away. It was using Arm Thrust, a super-effective move. The attack hit four times and both Pokémon retreated. They were both tired, and possibly about to faint. Purloin's claw glowed and it flew towards Pignite.
"Pignite, use Flame Charge!" Max again commanded. The two attacks collided middair, and an explosion rocked the battlefield. As the smoke cleared both Pignite and Purrloin lay on the battlefield, fainted.
"Three-to-One, hey! Those chances were easy to beat!" Max called at the audience. They were at level-footing, with only one Pokémon to go. He caught the camera of Harry Endigger's crew. He gave it a brief salute. He returned Pignite to its Poké Ball. "Good job, buddy, now we've got them." He withdrew his last Poké Ball, stamped with a feather.
"Come on Rufflet, win this battle for me!"
"Go, Ducklett, destroy this challenger!" Imogen called across the battlefield. The two flying-types emerged from their Poké Balls, one blue with a yellow bill, and the other grey, with a white mane. Max called the first attack.
"Rufflet, start off with Slash!" Rufflet took to the air, with it's aerial opponent, and they circled.
"Ducklett, counter that Slash by sending a great storm! Imogen called. And the last battle of this match has become an Aerial Combat! What an exciting end to this rivetting semi-final! The announcer called. As Rufflet approached Ducklet let fly a stream of hot water, slamming into the Pokémon. Rufflet fell in its flight, missing Ducklet. Max could see red raw skin beneath Rufflet's feathers; it was burned.
"Rufflet, use Hone Claws!" The Flying-types' claws grew longer, and sharper, increasing Rufflet's attack, which would be diminished by its burned status.
"Ducklett, use Aerial Ace!" Imogen called. What? Was she calling an actual attack? The Ducklett swooped down, smacking into Rufflet. Max's Pokémon wavered in its flight, before being hit again. "Again!" Imogen called. Rufflet was fully powered up. Whoever struck first would win.
"Rufflet, use Aerial Ace too!" Max commanded. Both Pokémon rose, like a rollercoaster ride, before diving down. The Pokémon levelled out, smacking into each other at high velocity. Max looked on as, to his horror, Rufflet fell from the skies. The small Pokémon fell, crashing onto the ground. Max watched. The Ducklett performed victory circles around the stadium, and the crowd cheered. Max walked along the pitch, towards Imogen. He had lost the match, just. He had done better than people had expected, but he had lost. The Ducklett flew down, returning to Imogen's Poké Ball. His opponent walked forward, across the battlefield, towards him.
"You battled well," she said to him, extending her hand. It felt like a farce, shaking hands with his opponent, but nevertheless he took her hand, shaking it. Her skin was soft, uncaroussed by days of hard work.
"Yes, but you won," he returned. "I will beat you someday." Imogen smiled.
"I hope, for your sake, that you do."
Re: The Short Travelled Road
Max Park turned, walking slowly out of the stadium. He had lost, and he had been humiliated. Everything that he had worked for, reached for, strived for, had fallen to the ground. His pride was an old relic, crumbled, erroded, lying on the ground, for all to see. Imogen Miller, his old opponent, the one person who had defeated him, still stood there, smiling thinly. She was like a cancer, an undefeatable, ruthless, murderous soul. The crowd was clapping and cheering. As far as they were concerned he, the loud, incompetent challenger, had been defeated by their favourite. He might usually have stayed behind to watch the other matches. This time he didn't, he knew who the victor would be. Inside his pocket his phone buzzed. Probably Dylan, congratulating him on his well fought match. He picked up the device, switching it on. It was his Mother, the same woman who had shouted at him not to go on a journey, chastised him from wanting to leave school, cried as he stepped out of his home for the last time. He held the phone to his ear.
"Mum..." he said haltingly. He was expecting a tyrade, about his loss, about how useless being a trainer was, how he should come back home now.
"Darling, I saw your match," a wavering voice on the other end replied.
"You watch them?"
"Yes, of course I do." Max was amazed, his mother wouldn't have been the one to do that. "How many weeks have you been gone now?" she asked.
"Five weeks, three days, twenty hours, three minutes," Max replied, with anguish. He missed his home. He missed his friends. He missed his life. But he loved being a trainer. He loved the thrill of battling. He loved journeying across a region that he had never explored before.
"Five weeks, and you've collected three badges. That's pretty good, I'd say," his Mother said on the other end. "Keep on going, but come back home some day. We love you." At the other end his Mother put down the phone. Max was stunned. He hadn't expected that. A tear leaked from his eye, running down his face and dropping to the floor.
Max sat at lunch. Imogen Miller had won the finals, as everyone expected, trashing her opponent with two Pokémon. It satisfied him slightly that he had taken down more of her Pokémon than the finalist, putting him in a hypothetical second. Everyone wondered what Imogen was going to do next. The press were on fire, asking whether she was going to travel North or South, whether she was going to take part in the Young Trainer of the Year Competition that would be held in three months time, what her strategy was. She replied with mysterious, evasive answers. He fingered the food on his plate. He sat next to Dylan, on an otherwise empty table. The young boy had attempted to start conversation, but Max had pushed him down, back into stony silence.
A wave of noise entered the Pokémon Centre cafeteria as Imogen Miller entered. A small crowd was following her, with at least ten contestants in it. They queued up, letting her go in front, of course, and waiting for the bemused cafeteria worker to serve them. He saw an admirer, holding crumpled flowers, noting down what she ordered. The girl took her now laden plate, walked indecisively around the tables, causing small ripples of cries for her to sit with them. She finally decided on a course, heading straight to Max's table. Oh great, I'm going to spend lunch being gloated at by the victor. Max thought. He was tempted to leave now, but didn't want to risk being lynched by the crowd. The Trainer sat down, pulling out a chair. Max felt Imogen looking at him.
"I really meant it when I said that you battled well," she said to him. He looked up. She was neither smiling nor gloating at him. She was perfectly neutral.
"Thank you," he replied. "Congratulations on winning the tournament." He cut up a chunk of meat, putting it in his mouth to avoid further talking.
"Believe me, it's annoying, everyone asking you pointless questions and crowding arround you," she exclaimed. He looked up at her again. She spoke with a Upper-Castelian accent, like Dylan's. Her eyes were honest, and he knew that she was speaking the truth.
"Where are you going?" he said, echoing the questions everyone else had asked. She sighed.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because I want to go there too." She raised her eyebrows.
"Believe me, I have enough people who want to travel-" Max interrupted her, holding up his hand.
"No, I don't want to travel with you. I want to follow you, do what you do, fight who you fight, be your rival," he replied. She smiled, a warm, amused smile. He had surprised her, definitely.
"I hadn't expected anyone to be so eager to battle me again," she laughed. "Very well, I'm going to turn North from here, and make my way to Mistralton City, and take the three main gyms up there, Mistralton, Icirrus and Opelucid. I'll have eight badges then and will be able to compete in Young Trainer of the Year," she explained. Max finished off his meal.
"Thank you, I'll see you at Mistralton. In the meantime we must go." he stood up, followed by Dylan. "Thank you, Imogen Miller." Two young men quickly grabbed the seats they vacated, and Max looked back at Imogen, who rolled her eyes. "Dylan, pack your bags, we have a boat to catch."
Re: The Short Travelled Road
Max left the Pokémon Centre, where trainers were still eating, where people were talking, where contestants and audience alike were probably bitching about him behind his back. The sun shone, although the ground was damp from rain the previous night. He had the head start on Imogen Miller, although she had two more badges than him. They would race from city to city, coast to coast, on their quest. Hopefully they would meet again in Young Trainer of the Year. Dylan followed him out, taking a rucksack heavy with provisions. At first the boy had wanted to take two suitcases worth of tents, food, clothes, tables and other such useless items, but Max gave them to the first beggar that he saw, and slimmed it down to a rucksack. Max carried with him a military-issue Bergen, a tall green rucksack with infinite pockets. He stepped away from the Pokémon Centre, making his way down the High Street of Flocessy Town. People were clearing the mess from the Tournament, and a few stands still lingered around the Battle Club. The name of Imogen Miller reverberated on the lips of the crowd as they passed through the street. No-one cared about him. He was just one of the semi-finalists. One day his name would be on their lips, that he swore.
Ahead of him the checkpoint came into sight. It was the last bit of civilisation, of city, of comfort, that he would encounter before leaving the city. He and Dylan approached it. It seemed to be empty as he approached, most trainers wouldn't be approaching or leaving here at this time of day. He reached the checkpoint and turned as the guard spoke.
"Excuse me, Mr Park," the man called. He turned around. Someone knew his name. He looked at the guard and the man caught his eye before speaking. "Well done on your battle against Imogen Miller. Would you like to record your leaving here?" he asked. Max was confused. Why would anyone want to record where he was going.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think that I was signed down for any tracking scheme," he replied politely.
"You weren't, until today. You're in the Super 10 now, in the Three Badges or Less category," the guard explained. Max looked at him, amazed. Super 10 was a website with trainer profiles on it, that registered the Top Ten trainers for the number of badges they had. It was an honour to be there, and he was stunned to be on such a site. He had looked up Imogen Miller there last night, she was second on the Five Badges or Less category, and seventh on the Six Badges or Less category, but her profile was empty.
"Yes, I would, thank you. I'll fill in more details another time," he replied, grinning. He turned, heading past the checkpoint onto Route 20. Even if he had lost to Imogen, he had proven himself worthy for this prestigious rank. He would beat her, and then he'd be the best. He stopped, squinting at a group of people in the distance. They seemed to be dressed in black, with black hats covering their hair. They were walking in formation, as if part of an army. He reached for a Poké Ball, with a small cloud engraved on it. If they were trainers, he'd need to be prepared. The people approached, and halted a few yards away from him. Max counted eight of them, with small white crosses on their hats. They had black uniforms, with grey sleeves and trousers. They were in a column two men thick, with regimental spacing. One of them stepped forward a Poké Ball in his hand.
"Give your Pokémon over, kid. You're no match against us, and we're all competent trainers. You look nice enough, but nice doesn't get you far in this world. Go home, become a lawyer or a banker, just don't become a trainer," the man said. Max was stunned. He took a step forward himself.
"Why should I? Who are you, anyway?" he asked, glaring at the uniformed man.
"We are Team Plasma, I'd be surprised if you hadn't heard of us," the man replied. "I am Corporal Lawson, of 5 Section, 3 Platoon, Castelia Company." Max took yet another step forward, until he was almost breathing into the Corporal's face.
"If you want my Pokémon, come and get them," he whispered in the man's face. "Cottonee, go! Show these fools that we're not going to give up just yet!" He threw the Poké Ball, and the capsule opened, revealing a small ball of white fluff, with green leaves. Pokémon and Trainer glared defiantly at the Grunts. Lawson sighed and stepped back.
"Very well, if you want to fight, we'll fight. 5 Section, Into Basic Formation!" he commanded. The black-uniformed men spread out into a long line, and threw Poké Balls in the air. Flashes dotted Route 20 and, when Max took his arm away from his eyes he saw a solid row of Pokémon blocking his path. There were eight Patrat, two Purrloin, a Garbordor, two Sandile, two Trubbish, three Scraggy and a Drapion facing him. "Are you sure that you don't want to back down?" Max looked the Corporal in the eyes. He rummaged in his pocket, pulling out his other three Poké Balls.
"Numbers don't matter, the trainer does," he replied. "Although a few more Pokémon do help." He threw the capsules in the air. "Dylan, send out Solosis and Axew as well!" he told his friend, and the tycoon's son let out his two Pokémon. Great, now we're only outnumbered three-to-one. He thought to himself. The Corporal grinned.
"Garbordor, Drapion and Trubbish provide covering fire! Patrat, charge, take a Pokémon each. Patrat 7 and Patrat 8, stay in reserve for now!" he commanded. The Poison-types spurted out small violet needles, or brown balls of toxic sludge towards Max's group.
"Dodge, or counter their attacks! Solosis, throw back as many of the attacks as you can!" he commanded. The Pokémon reacted perfectly. Some defended themselves, like Pignite, who Max saw standing in front of Axew, spurting out Embers, while others, like Rufflet, flew out of the way of the attacks. Dylan's Solosis glowed blue-violet and some of the attacks stopped middair, flying back to their senders. The Poison-types were sent into confusion, and dived for cover. As one problem was solved the next began, as the wave of Patrat slammed into Max's team.
"Pignite, use Arm Thrust! Rufflet, use Aerial Ace! Golett use Gyro Ball, and Solosis, control its movements with Psychic. Cottonee, use Mega Drain!" The Pokémon sprang into action, and started fighting the Patrat. Golett's Gyro ball circled round the battlefield, making a perimeter that stopped any more attacks entering the battlefield. On the other side of the battlefield the Corporal shouted orders. The onslaught of Poison-type attacks began again, but not at the Pokémon. Max dived for cover as balls of sludge and violet stingers flew towards him. He sat up, his back against a tree, unable to see the fight. Now he couldn't control the battle, and he didn't know what the opponent were doing. He looked around for Dylan, and found the boy lying on the ground, his shirt ripped up, sludge smattered across his face. Max looked stunned at the boy. Was he still alive? Was he concious? There was only one way of finding out.
Max broke from behind the tree, running towards the small body of the boy. The stingers peppered his shirt, balls of sludge slammed into him, but he kept going. He knelt down by Dylan, and felt the boy's pulse. He was still alive, although his pulse was much reduced. Max grabbed the boy and dragged him back to the tree. He looked down at his clothes; small trickles of blood ran down his shirt, but he felt unhurt. He poked his head out from behind the tree. The Patrat had been cut down in number, and now only three fought desperately against Max's Pokémon. As he watched two figures emerged from the ground, and latched onto Pignite and Axew. The Sandile rolled on the ground, taking the two Pokémon with them as they fell. The four Purrloin rushed into combat, and a surge of sludge eminated from the Trubbish and Garbordor. Rufflet was forced into the sky, and the spinning Gyro Ball was brought to the ground by a pair of Purrloin. Max ducked as a ball of sludge missed him by an inch.
"Rufflet, use Aerial Ace on the Sandile on Axew's back! Solosis, lift Golett out of there! Cottonee, use Energy Ball on the Purrloin!" he commanded. He was distressed by the lack of Pokémon fit to be ordered. Rufflet swooped down onto the Sandile, tackling it off Axew's back. Solosis glowed violet-blue and Golett became surrounded by the same aura as he was lifted away from pair of spitting Purrloin. Cottonee spurted out a green ball of light that slammed into the other two Purrloin.
"Enough!" The Corporal called. "Plasma, return your Pokémon." Flashes were sent across the battlefield as the oppposing Pokémon were returned to their Poké Balls. "You fought bravely," the black-uniformed man said, walking towards Max. "We would only lose if we kept on battling." The Corporal was stopped by a wall of Pokémon, as Max's team gathered in front of him. "I hope to meet again. Plasma, move out!" The group returned to formation, marching past Max's Pokémon, towards Flocessy Town. Max felt woozy, and looked down at his torn shirt. The rivulets of blood had increased in size, and his shirt was stained red. He fell to the ground. All went black.
Re: The Short Travelled Road
So I just finished reading chapter four.
And I have to say I'm really liking it so far.
Your writing is really good, I love how you write the battles, it's not in so much detail but it gave me a clear picture of what was happening.
The funny thing is the battles are usually the parts people struggle with from what I've seen. My only comment on the battles would be to make them a little bit longer.
Your writing in general is also really good. I did find a few spelling mistakes here and there, a typo or two and some missing punctuation but other then that it was really well written.
I'm definitely looking forward to reading more.
I also really like Max's character. I really like how he's generally a really nice and calm and somewhat logical person but then when he gets out on the battle field he just becomes so rebellious and heated.
I thought those traits really complimented and made the other stand out.
I loved how you introduced him in the first paragraph in chapter one. It just made him more real in my mind.
One thing I would like to see is a more of character description like physically, mentally I think he's really starting to blossom and become real but in the physical department it's just lacking at this point cause you haven't really given a proper description of what he looks like.
I also really like Imogen. At first I was like "Holy crap, what a bitch!" but then when it went a little further I really started to like her.
Also I loved how you made her command her Pokemon in like code at first. I thought that was just brilliant, cause how is an opponent suppose counter or react if they don't know what to counter?
I thought that was just a stork of genius and originality. But I will have to say I laughed my ass of when I first started reading how she commanded her Pokemon.
I'd definitely like to see more of her.
I was however a little disappointed with Dylan.
Not because he's a bad character but I didn't really get anything from him...
I don't really know how he looks besides that he wear suits non-stop (Which I like). I don't really know how he acts or his personality.
You did give us a little bit of his history however but not really enough to make up for lack of description.
He definitely needs to develop more because right now all he is in my eyes is someone that follows Max around.
One thing I was also confused about simply because you weren't very clear on it was how many Pokemon Max and Dylan have...
And Is Solosis and Axew Max's Pokemon or Dylan's? I'm not really sure about that cause Dylan called them out but It looked like Max was commanding them which I was a little confused about.
Also I really like how you made Team Plasma into like a proper organization of badass people and not just a bunch of pussies that protest and bitch.
I like you made them organized and analytic like soldiers.
I'm actually pretty excited to see how you further incorporate them and develop them.
Some else I think that I personally you need to work on is background because so far it's been a little vague.
Nothing to much just some more description and maybe interaction with it.
Over all I really like it.
And I'm looking forward to the next chapter.
If you are doing a tag list, I'd like to be put on it please.