[15] Totodile vs Meursault (ref: pathos)

Somehow, despite the pain she was clearly in, Schwyz seemed to grow suddenly bored. So bored she just… let out a bit, gaping yawn. It took Ganymede a moment to realize what this was, an attempted trick to get him tired, but he wouldn’t fall for that! He shimmered bright like the dazzling gleams before, reflecting the yawn back towards Schwyz. The slurpuff grew even more tired - or at least, genuinely tired, as it was only an act before. Her eyes drooped, her body sagged; she knew she’d only last a little longer before plopping to the ground asleep.

So, why fight it? She curled up in a tight little ball, tucking her battered head in its poof, and not even a moment passed before she was engulfed in sleep. It wasn’t the deeply relaxing sleep she sought; no, it felt instead like her entire body was working, racing to heal her before time ran out. It was deeply taxing, moreso than any sleep she’d gotten before.

But it wouldn’t last long. A screaming pierced her slumber, trying to shout her awake. She mumbled in her sleep and turned over, the healing process she was going through just barely coating against the pain. Her wounds from before were just healing over as new bruises - internal, but still real - emerged, and her tender state was weakening.

Finally the screaming was too much, and her eyes slowly blinked open. No matter how short her rest was, she felt exhausted, and she shuddered as she picked herself up. The little energy needed for the next attack felt like too much, but she brought forth the tiny bright orbs, swishing them towards Ganymede. They stung his skin, but he barely flinched - after the attacks from last round, they felt like welcome relief. No, he just focused on more screaming, bringing Schwyz back to her knees as if she hadn’t rested at all.

And with little warning, the ref pops out and grabs the hat off both battlers, stuffing them into a large duffel bag from which two more hats are drawn. A fedora, which is placed on Ganymede’s head, and a felt hat, for Schwyz. The pokemon are both too worn out to pay much attention to their new garb, aside from readjusting them to fit better.​

A terrible, wicked smile spreads over Schwyz’s little face, a look no pokemon should ever want to see on something so delicious. Oh, she’s waited, been ever so patient, and finally the time has come… for kisses. She practically throws herself at poor Ganymede, her lips enveloping his face like a vacuum, drawing his precious life to have as her own. The ralts might have screamed, but nothing could be heard through the sound of sucking - until she parted, tossing him aside like nothing, a broken ragdoll falling to the ground. Ganymede picks himself up slowly, wiping drops of saliva off his stricken face; never again…

He screams. This time everyone swears they can hear it, the echoing madness escaping Schwyz’s mind to the bystanders all around; though she’d drained back some life, it surely isn’t enough to keep her going through more of this. The screaming only lasts so long, but Schwyz is still barely hanging on, a look of barely held back panic on her face.

She draws a breath, gathering stores of energy, but Ganymede’s gone - only a flickering shadow draws her eye. And then he’s there, all at once, the shadow enveloping her, his tiny body a wrath of striking tiny limbs, thrashing at her with more force than anyone could have expected. She shrivels up, trying to shield herself from the blows, but it’s too much, his rage is so explosive, and she finally succumbs to the pain. Only a whimpering sigh lets Ganymede know that she’s given up, and he slowly stops his rampage, the rage still clear on his red-hot face. But he’s so tired, almost as tired as Schwyz herself, and as the slurpuff is withdrawn into her pokeball, the ralts can barely feel the thrill of victory. Mostly, he’d just love a good nap…​