87-Melee

“Ready?”

Tanya’s question has her dual opponents crouch in preparation, almost shivering with restrained energy at the thought of another bout.

“Ready!” They shout in stereo, to which Tanya can only nod and brace herself as well.

In the days since they’d run into the other trainers, things have been… productive, for a given definition of the word.

“Begi–”

Sidestep, counter with psychic.

Before she can even finish the word Grovyle disappears into a blur of impossible speed, so fast that if his movement was operating under conventional physics he’d generate a sonic boom.

But Grovyle cannot control such speed, and while it would be impossible to dodge a quick attack directly…

The ‘mon appears where she was just standing in a flying leap halfway through a swipe with his claws, but the move smoothly transitions to a blocking crossguard to shield against the psychic blast as residual speed has him flying past her.

Momentarily unable to act, retask attention to the remaining threat.

Marshtomp’s throat bulges with water, priming an attack.

Compress bulk outside of firing line.

Tanya contorts her body in an impossible ‘C’ shape allowing the attack to pass through where her center of mass should be as her eyes flare again and another blast of psychic energy forces the ‘mon to abandon the attack and dodge.

Then a trio of sharp pains in her side from unnaturally sharp and rigid leaves has Tanya holding back a flinch as the pain and foreign energy disrupts her unnatural state, sending her back to normal just as Grovyle’s talons touch ground again and he disappears into another blur of speed.

Claws rake across her back, doing minor damage but an irrefutable proof he managed to close the gap.

Tanya rotates but the ‘mon keeps behind her and her distraction allows for a blast of high pressure water to strike her in the side, which at the speed it was going feels indistinguishable from solid metal.

Concentrating through the strike, the dirt behind her glows purple and she feels the gust of wind indicating Grovyle has used the same speed to maneuver instead of attack, appearing on the side of a nearby tree in the same instant.

There’s an instant of hesitation from all parties, less than half a second, but more than enough for Tanya to get her bearings.

They’re not throwing out enough damage to actually hurt her, not really, but at the same time her psychic attacks aren't doing much to hurt them either. In a battle of attrition she’ll win, but that’s not what they’re training for, and after the solid ten minutes they’d spent planning after their last bout she’d been more cautious to avoid a trap.

Tanya primes her egg.

But it seems she’ll have to trigger it regardless.

First objective, disable the slower enemy.

Pulling her egg from her pouch as she continues to shove energy into it, the ‘mon primes a force vector equation to–

Grovyle appears in front of her in a blur of speed, sat in a crouch as if having just finished an attack, then disappears less than an instant later.

Only then does Tanya see the twin cuts perfectly diagonal across her egg, glowing from within with her own explosive power.

…Cleve–

The explosion sends her staggering, minorly disoriented but not out of options as she tracks where Grovyle was looking before he vanished and sends a blast of psychic energy toward where he’s clinging to a new tree.

But she tracks his eyes and before he’s even disappeared into another blur a streak of pink is already moving to intercept where he will be.

Unfortunately in the two seconds needed to handle one opponent, Marshtomp has managed to prime his own attack. Bracing himself against the ground with his arms in a mirror of his later evolution, the ‘mon’s stomach seems to almost blur with vibration, the final stage of an attack Tanya is painfully aware of.

She barely has time to feel irritated before a thudding rumble emanates from the ‘mon like the call of some massive toad, so low to be just on the precipice of hearing but more than powerful enough to play havoc on the inner ear.

ImmediatelyTanya feels like she’s going to vomit as the ground starts to tilt and sway beneath her feet, it’s all she can do to stay upright as she pushes through discomfort and confusion to prime another psychic blast and disrupt the attack.

She feels three more leaves strike her in the side from where Grovyle is latched, well outside the area of effect but it doesn't break her concentration as the attack slowly forms and–

The damnable sound cuts out for an instant, just enough time for Grovyle to disappear and his claws to find their mark yet again, the force of the impact more than the pain disrupting the attack as she struggles not to fall over.

But then Grovyle disappears and the sound starts up again and Tanya wobbles backward a half step, pressing an arm against her side and shoving healing energy into herself to blunt the effects.

Her healing can resolve almost every kind of non-neurological damage, but it’s only marginally effective against moves like this, falling under the umbrella term of ‘confusion’ which seeks to inhibit her ability to think and plan.

The healing does quickly seal the thin cuts and shallow stab wounds however, and even if she’s unable to make use of her ranged tactics it by no means suggests she’s out of options.

No matter how unpleasant.

Tanya grimaces, forces her mind to manually find the horizon reference plane, and starts to trudge closer to the damnable noise, enduring ever-increasing nausea and blurring vision as Marshtomp’s eyes widen and somehow the sound becomes even louder.

More leaves peirce her side but the minor pain is nothing compared to the nausea as she gets close enough that the dirt beneath her feet is jumping in a harmonic of the vibration.

But despite appearances she’s not planning on attacking Marshtomp, no she’s just putting her opponents into a position where she knows they’ll have to react, a predictable response to the scenario that she can capitalize on–

The sound cuts out and the instant it does Tanya throws her arm to the side, grasping at air at the very same instant that Grovyle disappears into a blur of speed.

Her heels slide to the side against the dirt as an impact transfers momentum and Grovyle appears in her grip, firmly held by the throat.

To his credit Marshtomp doesn't hesitate, immediately launching forward he links his arms together and swings them at her like a baseball bat, the maneuver somehow emitting the feeling of martial strength that she knows her body is uniquely weak to.

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She rotates again, placing Grovyle between the attack and herself, her eyes flaring purple as the attack knocks the ‘mon from her grip and sends him flying and a pulse of psychic energy knocks Marshtomp off balance.

He overcommitted into the attack, her disruption sent him off balance, and now she barely has to step closer to grab one of his flailing arms and throw him over her head and onto the ground.

He looks up at her, throat beginning to bulge with wate–

He hits the ground again and pretends to be more disoriented than he is, but she can see him trying to get his feet beneath him to pull out of the grapple.

Again.

Now he’s seriously struggling to stay conscious, but out the corner of her eye she sees Grovyle pushing himself off the ground. He’s injured, and with their plan in shambles he’s going to prioritise getting his teammate out of her control, meaning–

She swings Marshtomp the instant before Grovyle’s eyes focus on his target and his muscles tense.

The ‘mon disappears into the uncontrolled speed of another quick attack, only to be sent flying off to the side in the exact same moment by way of Marshtomp smashing into his side.

Tanya follows through with the motion, releasing the ‘mon in her grip such that when she finally manages to turn the time space she created into a zone of magnified gravity, both ‘mon smash down into the dirt at roughly the same place.

She pulls an egg from her pouch and maneuvers it behind her back as it charges so Grovyle can't play the same trick twice and hesitates as she waits to see whether she needs to continue.

Neither ‘mon has stood up but it’s clear at least Grovyle is still conscious.

“Yield.” She states, watching for signs of surrender, as much as her medical training says concussions and similar mild brain injuries are as harmful as any other kind of bruise in a ‘mon she still has an illogical aversion to it.

Grovyle begins struggling to push himself up so she pours more energy into gravity, the energy draw to amplification ratio is exponential, but she has power to spare.

“Yield.” She demands again as she barely restrains a dizzy wobble, this time revealing the primed egg from behind her back, already preparing to throw a clump of earth in the ‘mon’s path should he attempt to quick attack again.

For three long seconds Grovyle’s eyes dart between her, the egg, and Marshtomp next to him, but eventually he sees sense and slumps flat against the ground against the push of gravity.

“Ugh… Fine. I really thought we had you this time” He groans, breathing easier as gravity returns to normal and picking himself up with a wince with a glance at his unconscious teammate. “I just don't get it. I was Marshtomp’s supersonic test dummy for ages, so I know how hard it is to do anything like that. Do you just… not get dizzy or something?”

Tanya holds in her lunch through sheer force of will and slowly blinks at the ‘mon through vision so unsteady she struggles to make him out against the forest backdrop.

She subtly pushes an arm against her side and shoves enough raw healing energy into herself her reserves take a noticeable dip.

It barely takes the edge off.

“No, I feel it.” She says mildly as she takes carefully measured steps toward the two ‘mon. “But, despite the discomfort the attack does not directly impair my thinking like some other variants can, thus continuing to fight is just a matter of willpower.

Willpower and making sure she doesn't have to do any kind of maneuver or get hit with an attack strong enough it risks knocking her down. Even now, if someone just walked up to her and shoved she’d give herself fifty fifty odds of falling over.

It’s a shame the attack makes it so hard to concentrate, otherwise it’d be an outstanding use case for her newly developing skill in ‘amplified touch telekinesis’ as she’d been calling it.

The name’s lack of panache belies its usefulness, it’d only taken her half a day of concerted effort to develop the first working prototype of the move, quickly refined and simplified to its current state allowing her to ‘stick’ any part of her body to a surface with such force either her strength of the material she’d been testing with gave way before it did.

And if yesterday’s tests are any indication, falling over is an outright impossibility up to the point the ground gives way.

Coming to a stop in front of her two former opponents, Tanya reluctantly removes her arm from her side, the bulk of the relief from the nausea with it, and presses it against Grovyle’s forehead.

A wave of sparkles engulf him, but before they can dissipate she’s already moving on to the still unconscious Marshtomp, the ‘mon jolting awake with an alarmed shout the instant she makes contact.

“Gah! Wh– What happened!? Did we– Awwww darn it.” He groans, a flood of half words cut off as he looks around and realizes his situation and looks up at Tanya with a competitive glare. “You know the last time Grovyle let me test supersonic on him he fell over and threw up? He couldn't even stand for ten minutes.”

Tanya shoves her arm against her side the instant Marshtomp is healed and gets back to pouring irresponsible amounts of energy to take the edge off, then nods.

“The reaction matches my experience, I would say.” She confirms, only to be met with an irritated expression.

“Well apparently not.” He counters, rotating his arm in wide swinging arcs as he gets up. “I just have to make it more powerful, Sam’s trainer book said the sound was… uh… some kind of really specific number? We just guessed and tested a bunch of low sounds until we found one, but maybe if I get closer to the correct sound it’ll be more powerful.”

…Personally Tanya hates the idea of this attack getting any more powerful, even now that it’s fading it’s the dizziest she’s been in any life aside from all the other times she’d been hit by the same attack.

However, professionally, and with the mindset of it being a tool that, for the sake of mutual improvement and no regard to the near certainty she will vomit if it gets even slightly stronger, must improve…

Slowly, painfully, Tanya nods, ignoring how the movement causes her head and stomach to spin.

“I believe I saw a tool at a trainer supply shop that may help, a low frequency tuning fork. It’s a metal device that vibrates when hit by a sound of a specific frequency, which would give you a visual indicator that you’re performing optimally.” She states, elaborating when she sees a confused expression on both of the other ‘mon’s faces.

The only reason she remembers the fork is because of a passing curiosity to why a trainer supply shop would keep tools for musical instruments.

Now she knows.

Marshtomp’s amphibious face twists into an excited smile as he understands her suggestion.

“That’s so cool! I wonder how they make it vibrate only on the correct… uh… frequency?” The ‘mon asks, glancing off to Tanya’s side where she knows Marshtomp’s partner was watching their training. “I wonder why Sam didn't get one?”

Tanya shrugs and starts to move on, but Grovyle gives a perplexed chuff and squints into the middle distance.

“No. Hold on. How do you make a bit of metal vibrate only when one kind of sound hits it? Why wouldn't it just vibrate for every sound? And even if you figure out how to do that, how do you control what specific sound it reacts to? It doesn't make sense.”

Tanya blinks and takes the time to consider her answer.

She does have a pretty good understanding of wave harmonics, a computation orb’s main control matrix uses mana frequency as the input and being able to layer multiple command frequencies is the absolute minimum skill required to operate a multi-core orb.

By comparison a tuning fork is child's play, the question is whether she can explain it, simplify the explanation down to something that can be understood, this also assumes the fact that Grovyle actually wants an answer. More times than she can count she’d assumed a rhetorical question was literal, only to realize her social blunder after it was too–

“So, arent you gonna tell us?”

Grovyle’s question has Tanya blink again, tilting her head in confusion.

“Pardon?”

“You’re giving that… look.”

Marshtomp jumps in, pointing at his eyes.

“Yea! When you’re trying to figure out if we’re smart enough to understand what you’re thinking. But we’re not hatchlings anymore! Just tell us!”

Tanya glances between the two expectant faces and lets out a huff.

“I assure you I don't give ‘looks’ of any kind. You’re just allowing your biases to tint your perception.” She corrects, mentally organising an explanation of sound harmonics, tossing out the math, and choosing to start with a basic explanation of sound as a wave. “But… I can explain the mechanics of a tuning fork, but I’ll have to explain the basics of waves and harmonics first.”

Marshtomp and Grovyle sit down at the same time, looking up at Tanya’s eyes with dissecting focus, and as she launches into the absolute basics it’s clear enthusiasm won't be a hurdle in their understanding.