---

The dusty training field was full of waist to chest high obstacles and barriers, some still bearing the scars of previous fights. There were still plenty of open spaces as well, allowing a combatant to use the terrain to hide and fight behind, or to fight squarely out in the open. On one side, the rattata, Vermillion, adjusted his long coat and his black tinted visor. "I'm ready to kick your fuzzy tail there, furret", he said to his opponent on the other side of the field.

Ferran, the furret, brushed his headfur back out of his eyes, and smiled. "Ok, I'm ready too. Good luck." The furret crouched just a bit as he looked at the practice field, then back to his opponent.

Mallary leaned back in his seat, trying to make sure to keep his injured leg from getting uncomfortable from the knee brace he was forced to wear. He clicked his beak a few times, the stalk of onions till hanging from the edge. "Ok you two", he said loudly to the two combatants. "This is a basic combat tryout. Don't leave the combat field, or you'll be disqualified, and the first to be unable to continue will be the winner."

The two nodded a bit, although neither actually turned to look towards the farfetch'd as he spoke.

"Ready... FIGHT!"

Vermillion dashed forward, running at the furret. "Ok you overgrown slinky... its time for you to get a knuckle sandwich!" He pulled back his fist as he jumped off a concrete barricade, in a flying leap towards Ferran.

The furret took a step back, only to have his long tail tap against one of the concrete barriers. With the rattata barreling in towards him, and unable to back up, the furret charged towards his opponent before using his agility to slide under him like a professional baseball player. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder, only to see the rattata's fist hit the concrete barrier he had initially backed into, which cracked heavily from the Rock Smashing attack.

"Oh, you're pretty quick", Ferran said with a grin, standing up, his thick tail sending a bit of dirt and dust wafting upwards.. "Come on little guy, lets play." With that, the furret moved his paws in a set of quick gestures.

The rattata's eyes glowed a brighter red behind his dark black visor, as he turned to face his opponent. "Don't. Call. Me. LITTLE!" And with that, Vermillion spun around, and lunged to grab Ferran, and sink his fangs into the tall 'mon's neck. The furret wasn't moving from his spot, giving Vermillion the shot he needed, and down came the fangs.

---

"Looks like that sophomore's no more, Mal." Talon sighed softly at the end of statement, as he looked at the farfetch'd. "You know Vermillion's going to be impossible to live with, now that he's team leader."

"Oh, I'm sure he will, but he's not team leader yet." The farfetch'd pointed a feather finger towards the two combatants, smirking just a bit as he chewed on the end of the onion stalk.

---

One moment the furret was in front of Vermillion, a sitting psyduck for the bite attack, and then the next moment the furret was an illusion, causing the rattata to barrel through a non-existant copy. Dust flew up as he hit the ground. He sunk his claws into the ground, as he looked back at the illusionary duplicate of his foe, a foe that was sticking his tongue out and pulling down the bottom of his eyelids at its fallen enemy. The illusion faded, and so Vermillion stood up, spotting Ferran not once, but three times, each having moved to some cover.

"Sorry about that Vermillion", one of the furrets said, as he hopped up onto the top of a large concrete block. "When are you going to really fight me?", another said, as he rested against one of the barricades. "I'm hoping I'm putting on a good show", the last said, digging his feet into the sand and dirt.

Double Team, Vermillion realized. The furret was trying to be elusive, and make him look like a fool as well. He let out a loud churr of anger and charged at the closest of the Ferrans, his speed blisteringly fast. The three furrets blinked, as the rattata dashed in quickly, slamming his shoulder against his target, although the contact was fleeting as that furret was an illusion as well, causing him to slam against the barricade the illusion had been resting again.

The other two furrets grinned, as their illusionary counterpart disappeared, each dashing over towards the rattata. "Strike two, Vermillion!", one called out. The two leaped over obstacles, and pounced Vermillion as he turned.

Vermillion's tail twitched in pain as he was slammed against the barricade he'd just run into, his shoulder still hurting from his previous attack. The two furrets had hit him, but only one of the attacks felt real. A flurry of punches and jabs slammed against his body and face, making it impossible for him to figure out which of the two furrets attacking was real through a veil of pain. His paw lashed out, when he felt one of his short claws snag onto the sleeve of Ferran's coat. Without thought or looking, the rattata lashed out with his sharp fangs, bringing them down upon the furret's arm. The taste of blood splashed against his tongue, knowing he'd landed his powerful bite, as the taste was one that greeted him often when he was successful.

The success of his bite brought renewed effort as Vermillion gritted his powerful fangs down into his opponent. The sound of the furret crying out brought a happy feeling deep inside him, but as he looked up at his opponent, the bright sun above caused him to wince, followed by a sharp crack of a knee against his stomach. Vermillion let out a gasp, his bite hold gone, as he fell to the ground, squinting his beady red eyes.

As the pain lessened, his anger grew from the realization that his glasses were missing, and had been the reason he had been temporarily blinded by the light. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could finally see two Ferrans moving a bit away, each nursing the bite wound on his right arm, as some of the blood stained the fabric of the coat.

Ferran winced as he tightened the grip on the bite wound, glad that he'd used Double Team early on, which helped prevent quite a bit of damage he might have otherwise taken. Still, the wound hurt badly, but it couldn't stop a sly smirk from forming, as he wore the pair of black glasses on his pointed muzzle. "Lose something there?", he called. His remaining illusionary copy snickered at the joke, its condition looking much like its creator, bloody but still confident.

The rattata looked over towards the two furrets, unsure which was which. His whiskers twitched, the crimson eyes flickering with intense hate. Instead of charging the targets, the rattata grabbed ahold of a nearby chunk of concrete, easily the a good 75 pound piece. The fur along the rattata flickered as he concentrated, his body straining as the bulky piece of concrete slowly was lifted from the ground.

---

"Hey bro, uh, do you think this battle's getting a bit too messy out there? Verm's looking none too happy."

Otty looked at Talon, who was watching the battle with more focus than he usually might. The buizel's twin tails twitched back and forth as he turned his attention back to watched Vermillion lift up the concrete block. Talon nodded just a bit, "Yeah, its messy, but when has Vermillion ever been happy?"

The buizel tilted his head some. "What about when we ordered those cheese pizzas last week?"

The pidgeotto shrugged his shoulders, "You got me there."

---

The rattata let out a loud cry of anger and frustration as he slung the massive concrete projectile in the general direction of two furrets. The brick sped between the two possible targets, and impacted against a concrete barricade. A large explosion of concrete pebbles showered out from the impact, pelting each of the furrets with rough little pieces of shrapnel. The illusionary furret disappeared under the assault of pebbles, while the real Ferran shielded his face from the attack, using his coat sleeve to take some of the hits.

The last few pieces of concrete flakes plinked against the black sunglasses on Ferran's nose, allowing him to bring his arm down. A loud shout snapped his attention to the rattata that was charging at him, arms pumping heavily as he leaped towards the furret. "Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!", Vermillion cried out sharply, his fists coming down in a double-handed smash, a little bit of drool dripping from the corner of his muzzle.

Ferran's tail thrashed behind him as he moved, diving down and forward. Vermillion's attack was fast and strong, but also completely predictable. Diving under the attack would easily allow the agile furret to avoid the attack, as well as any follow-up attacks, so that's what he did. The dive forward gave him enough momentum to roll and spring back up to his feet, but as he did, the sharp snap of pain slammed into his back. He twisted his head to look back, as he fell forward. The black sunglasses slid off of his muzzle, tumbling in space as they fell towards the ground. His eyes squinted, seeing that as the rattata had come to attack him with the double-handed attack, he'd also lashed out with one of his feet in a short swift kick behind him, hitting the furret as he stood up. Ferran's balance was gone as his body twisted, falling against a waist high barricade, and then momentum carried him over, causing an unceremonious fall behind the white obstacle into the waiting sand below.

"Oh... furret", Ferran muttered to himself, as he laid in the dust and dirt, his mind working overtime as he tried to figure out a way out of the situation he'd gotten himself into.

---

The purple and white furred paw reached down to the ground, retrieving the sunglasses that had fallen into the loose sand. Vermillion spat as he slipped the glasses back over his eyes, the blood and spit getting soaked up as it hit the sandy ground. "That'll teach ya', ya' f*$kin' weasel. No one touches my glasses, especially not some lowlife thief of a furret", the rattata muttered to himself. "Now I'm gunna wipe that smirk clear off your muzzle." He cracked his knuckles, as he walked over towards where he had kicked the furret. He knew he was feeling tired, but a grin formed in the corner of his muzzle, as he imagined how he was going to brutalize the furret, and then become the leader of Zero Percent.

It was a wonderful daydream, one that was promptly shattered as he looked over the top of the white barricade. "What the?!?"

Where the furret was supposed to be was void of any furret. The rattata hopped over the obstacle, and looked around. "He couldn't have gotten away. I know he fell back here, and I didn't see him scurry off like the weasel he is." Vermillion clinched his pawhands, his short claws digging in against the pads. "Come on out you spoony weasel and get the beating that you deserve!", he shouted to the wind.

---

"What happened? Did Ferran flee?" Talon tilted his head, and looked over to Mal. The farfetch'd held the onion stalk inbetween his feather fingers, chewing slowly on the end. The end of Mal's beak twisted slightly into a grin, even as he watched intently at the unfolding scene.

"I know that look Mal. You know something." Talon's feather finger pointed at Mal, but the farfetch'd just turned his head and shrugged his shoulder. "Maybe", was the only answer Mal gave in return.

"Damnit Mal, stop being so tight billed about this and tell me what happened." The pidgeotto folded his arms over his chest, and leaned back into his seat. Instead of the farfetch'd answering the question, Otty leaned over, grinning widely.

"I know what haaaaaaaaap-peeeennnned", Otty sung softly, the grin never leaving his muzzle. The avian looked over and sighed, "Let me guess, he's a robot ghost."

"What? Nah. Why would I say something as silly as that, bro? Oh...", the otter stated before pointing back towards Vermillion. "Here it comes!"

"Here what comes?", Talon asked, his right eyebrow perked up as he looked back to the practice field.

---

Vermillion's whiskers twitched. His head looked left, right, still there was no furret for him to attack. It was like the furret had disappeared into thin air. He crouched, keeping his profile low to the ground, waiting for his opponent to come out of hiding from behind one of the many barricades. He squinted his eyes behind the darkened glass of his visor, looking for any moment. There was a soft rustling sound in the sand, and as the rodent looked down, a sharp pain slammed against his muzzle and jaw, sending him reeling.

It was a perfect surprise attack, as Ferran uppercutted the rattata. Dirt and sand poured out of his coat pockets, bits still stuck in his fur, but he didn't care. The thick Go-Goggles clung tightly over his eyes, as he leaped out of the sand. The furret panted, taking in a few breaths, before looking to Vermillion, as he staggered backward from the blow.

"You can dig", Vermillion said before spitting up some more blood and saliva. The rattata kneeled down, coughing. His body ached all over, even that curly part at the end of his tail. I'm not going to lose... not to him, he thought to himself, before forcing his sore body to move, charging once more at the furret. "Eeeeeee-yaaaaaaaaaahhhh!", he shouted out, as he prepared to give the furret a good ol' sucker punch to the gut.

Ferran's eyes narrowed behind the thick protective glass of his goggles. His long body and tail turned and twisted in movement, his arms spread to either side of his form. Each claw on his pawhands glowed white as they grew larger in mere seconds into sharp looking blades. His arms lashed out as Vermillion rushed him, claws leaving crescent streaks in the air as they connected with the rattata, sending him flying. The rattata hit the ground, unconscious, his shirt and part of his jacket sliced up by the furret's attack.

---

"What?" "Woah... duuuude." "Interesting." The three observers in the bleachers stated their own interjections on the outcome. Otty hopped up from his seat and ran down the bleacher steps towards the field. "Hold on, Vermie-dude!", he stated loudly, to go see about helping his team mate.

Talon pointed his feathered finger towards the training field and looked at Mallary, "Ok, that can't be normal, Mal. What in the heck was that?"

Mallary looked back to his avian team member, removing the leek onion from his bill. "That, Talon, was a Slash. At least, that's the claw version of it." The farfetch'd reached for his walking cane, and pushed himself up before he slowly started to make his way down to the field. "It's similar to my own Slash attack using my onion stick", referring to the large green onion stalk that he wore on his back.

Talon watched Mal begin his slow decent, before he started to move down with him. "Ok, that explains the what, but how in the world did a furret learn to do that? Furrets can't learn that." Mallary nodded in agreement, as he moved down one step at a time, "That's the question, isn't it? That we can find out later though. We have to go greet the new team leader of Team Zero Percent."

The pidgeotto blinked in surprise, "Huh? Wait, Ferran's going to be the #1? A Sophomore? Well, I suppose that can't be any worst than Vermillion being in charge."

---

Otty ran onto the practice field, and waved a paw to Ferran, who was taking a break by sitting down on the loose sand and properly dress his bite wound. "Dude, that was a sweet fight. I can't believe you beat Vermie." Ferran just smiled and nodded back, "Uh, thanks. I just got lucky."

The otter smiled as he turned his attention to picking up the rattata. "I'm gunna take him to get patched up. Catch ya' later", he stated, picking up Vermillion quite easily.

Ferran nodded a bit, waving his own paw in turn. "Sure thing." He coughed a few times, before reaching up to pull off his Go-Goggles, bits of sand still falling out of his fur. He slowly started to brush his fur and coat of some of the excess dust, before looking up to the two avians who had come down from the bleachers. "So, does this mean I passed my tryout?", he asked the two, standing up slowly.

The two nodded. Mallary grinned, even as he walked over to Ferran with his walking stick, and offered his feather hand to the furret. "Quite. Welcome to Team Zero Percent. You'll make a good replacement for team leader." Ferran shook the offered hand, as Mal talked.

"Team Leader? I thought I was just here to try out for your position on the team, since it said you were injured." The furret's surprise could be heard in his voice. He then held up the bulletin note that he retrieved from his coat pocket. Mal leaned in and read the note then nodded, "Yes, thats right. My position on the team was #1, now its your position." The farfetch'd smiled just a bit, leaning against his walking stick. "And before you ask, yes, I'm sure I want you to lead the team. Vermillion, as good as a fighter he is for the #2 position, doesn't have the head for tactics. You though, you managed to out think him, and win."

Ferran ran his fingers through his headfur, brushing out some of the dirt, blushing a bit as he was praised for his fight. "Uh, it wasn't much, really. I just did what I had to do." Talon shook his head to the comment, "That’s not true. Vermillion's a tough fighter, even if he's as abrasive as sand paper. And if Mal says you'll be ok as team leader, well, its his call. Welcome on board."

"I hope you're both right", he answered back. Mal nodded, "Of course. Anyways, meet here tomorrow after class, and we'll see about getting our team training started. We'll need to get you up to date with the others after all." Mal waved his wing to them, "I'll catch you both then." And with that, he went off to find Otty and Vermillion, knowing that the rattata better hear the good news from him, and not one of the others.

---

Man, you don't give yourself nearly enough credit. This was a VERY well written story, and if you ask me it'd be a damn shame if you didn't follow up on it sometime. I could only wish I was as good at describing things the way you do, and all the characters' personalities came through almost like they'd written it themselves.

Seriously, post a shout on the PCA page and let people know about this story! If you don't, I will. :)

Awww. Thanks. But its true, when it comes to my writing, I've never been very comfortable with it. With this format though, I don't know. It did write out pretty easily. About 12 pages worth of material in total is really good for me.

And yeah, I'm glad you think it turned out well though.

Bah, I don't think any artist or writer is ever truly comfortable with their own work. I'm being completely honest though when I say you really are a very good writer, and you should consider doing it more often. :)

Thanks. And we'll see what strikes me. This story was sort of just jumping up and down in my head. I knew Vermillion would be fighting Ferran for the #1 spot, I just figured it would be an interesting exercise to actually write it. Its nice actually having a clue what I'm gunna write. That helped. Anyways, its all good.

Awww. Thanks. But its true, when it comes to my writing, I've never been very comfortable with it. With this format though, I don't know. It did write out pretty easily. About 12 pages worth of material in total is really good for me.

And yeah, I'm glad you think it turned out well though.

I agree with KD, very well written. You definitely brought out your characters personalities...and you managed to use proper grammar and punctuation. Something I see a lot of more prolific writers struggle with.

And don't apologize for not using other people's characters. Not everyone is a glutton for punishment like some of us are.

Well, other than the basic stupid spelling mistakes I normally do, like 'suprise' instead of 'surprise', I at least have a good grasp of how English works. Stupid Gordon Rule classes. Its weird writing a story thats easily bigger than 2 average Gordon Rule papers.

But hey, anyways, thats what spellchecker is for, right? Anyways, its all good. :)

Post this over on the PCA site as well to get a bit of extra traffic.

Already did. Gave the PCA a nice shout on the front page, after KD suggested it.

One thing I forgot...nice use of the Spoony insult.

Like I said, Vermillion is the master of foul language. And you know, Spoony is just the most offensive thing you could call someone (in 1990 ).

You're a decent enough writer. We've all got ways in which we can improve, but if you're not interested in doing so, I'd not worry about it so much. :)

And allow me to commisserate with you a bit. The hardest part of getting into an interactive story like the PCA is integrating your characters with others'. If you're anything like me, you're afraid of stepping on people's toes. The nice thing about the PCA, though, is it seems to be pretty loose about what's canon and what isn't. So take some time to build up your characters on their own, show us their interactions, and let us get to know them. I'm just starting to get into collaborating myself; it comes in time. :)

Yeah, the stepping on toes is always the worst part, but I figured if I at least wrote this story, it might help folks get a grasp of what the team is like. Plus, I realized while writing, Otty sounds like Keanu Reeves. Specifically, Keanu Reeves from Point Break. Which isn't really that far from how he usually sounds, but anyways...

So yeah, no worries. I always have the option to draw stuff too.

Ok, finally got around to reading this. First thing Salen: this was a nice read. Never thought I'd actually be interested in a pokemon anthro setting, but this was enjoyable.

Now, I'd like to give an unqualified thumbs up on this, but there is one mistake that is burning in my brain that must be commented on as a qualifier. "This is a basic combat tryout. Don't leave the combat field, or you'll be disqualified, and the first to be unable to continue will be the winner." It jumped out at me when I read it, and I almost thought this would be some sort of twist where Vermillion KOs Ferran and ends up lossing. Mistakes are ok, but you might want to correct one that might mislead the readers.

Eh, well, I've never been great at wording stuff at times. I get a bit to verbose. And no twists for me. I wasn't writing this like M. Night Shamallamadingdong.

"What a twist!"