Finally Decided!

First topic message reminder :

It was a comparatively cold, wet afternoon in the Cattail Marsh. Through the dense, heavy fog the pale sun created a milky light on the muddy ground, giving the entire place an almost surreal feeling to it.
Many Pokémon would not like being here, soaked through to the bone while a slight breeze covered one's entire body in a chilling sensation.
One of these Pokémon was Ned, the Nincada. There were quite a few places he would rather have been than these marshes, but after his recent encounter with his old clan in the Shadowhue Forest he deemed it unwise to return there for the moment being.
He would just have to bide his time, hoping to finally break free of the shackles of this weak, pathetic form of his.
When would he finally shed his burden, flying free as a Ninjask and a Shedinja?
Not now, that was for sure. Now he had to endure the harsh climate, hoping not to encounter any other Pokémon. If that were to happen, then he would surely be done for.
All those other Pokémon were lucky. They were all so powerful, even in their first forms.
But not Ned. He was a weak, pathetic bug.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

The Nincada was quite surprised by this sudden offer.
Why had the other Pokémon decided to help him all of a sudden?
Finally having regained his composure, Ned responded:
"Uh, while I am sure you mean well, there are a few arguments against accepting your proposal.
First there would be the fact, that I would endanger you by making you a target of the clan. That would quickly force you into hiding and I don't think you'd like that. Second you would blow my cover, would I end up in a situation in which I would have to hide. And last - you attacked me. While you are not doing so anymore, there still is the risk, that all of this is just an elaborate ruse to get me to trust you so you can stab me in the back. Pardon me if thi seems harsh, but as a Pokémon of my species one is either paranoid or dead."
How would the other Pokémon respond to this?
Ned had no idea. Whatever the outcome would be, it would certainly be interesting.

Ares's mind slithered about the words given to him by the other, slinking muscle by muscle about each individual phoneme as he investigated them. Scales sliding, membranes twitching: the serpentine brain was keen upon manipulation and achieving its desired goal. Certainly there had been valid points, but he had already argued against them prior. It twitched as an idea crept forward, and struck swiftly in order to achieve the goal of fighting against an assassin.

"I fear no insect that flies or sneaks," he would speak, providing his rebuttal in a fashion akin to a lawyer presenting a defense, "they are all but kindling for my fire. I'm simply offering protection so that you might escape deeper into the mire and disappear entirely; of course, if this swamp is as deadly and dangerous as you earlier claimed, no fool would dare trod alone or pursue you here." His hand that had originally been supporting his chin would once more return to its position by his arm so that it might fly in unison up into a shrug position. Both hands, palm side up, would become level with his shoulders as he bent his elbows, and this was used to declare that this last claim was nonchalantly disregarded by him. He spoke, "As I said earlier, mistakes happen. How was I to know that you were not an aggressive force, that you were attempting to get reinforcements, or that you were leading me back into ambush? Shadows and fog are not a good combination."

So it was back to arguing again. Well, if that was, what the other Pokémon wanted.
"Once again you underestimate the clan's power. I do not wish to appear condescending, but maybe you should think more clearly about who you are and what you can do. As for your final statement, you could just have ignored me. Even if I were a dangerous creature, I would not have been able to discern your nature either, thus not attacking you. Ignoring me is something you could have done."
Only now did the Nincada notice a tiny peculiarity in the Charmander's statement.
Any other Pokémon would most likely have disregarded it completely, but in Ned's head the alarm bells were ringing. Of course it just had to have been this. It always came down to this.
"Wait...your FIRE?! I'm sorry, got to go! See you or not! Bye!"
Terrified out of his mind, the Bug type blindly charged forward through the marshes, not caring for the direction in which he traveled. He only wanted one thing - to get as far away from that Fire type as possible. While he didn't exactly like his personality, a variety of childhood experiences coupled with his weakness to Fire types had made the other Pokémon's typing the far more striking issue.

Perhaps, if he had been given the opportunity, he would have loudly proclaimed "bullshit" upon the other's statement. In fact, he was beginning to seriously doubt whether or not this Pokemon had just fallen off the turnip truck. He would have gladly - and quite gleefully - reprimanded the Nincada for his unusual expectations of feral Pokemon. He would have been quick to pointing out how in this time period it was quite a foolish and novel idea to seriously believe that feral creatures were just as much peaceful as the person attempting to remain neutral.

This opportunity was not given to him.

If anything, it appeared that mentioning his elemental allegiance had frightened the bug off. As Ares was still quite intent upon meeting an actual Shedinja and testing his strength against it before smiting it, he was quite inclined to chase after the noise of skittering feet. He would holler, "Now, just wait a minute!" However, something lurked just out of sight...

ares carried out 1 launched of one Cattail Marsh :

As he ran away, his heart almost pounding out of his chest, the Nincada was finally able to think a bit more clearly again. Right as he began to curse his horrible eyesight, which would have allowed him to spot the Fire type much earlier, a small Pokémon skittered past him.
Thinking about it, it was fairly certain, that the Pokémon he spoke with would get into a fight with the Water type. And then the Fire type would be in trouble due to his type disadvantage.
He may have attacked him, but was it really right to just leave him to his fate like this?
No, Ned couldn't just let this happen. If he would sit by idly, then there would not be much left to differentiate him from the clan. And that was the last thing the Ground type wanted to be.
Shaking like a leaf, the Bug type carefully staggered back the way he had come from, mumbling to himself:
"It's okay, I am not going to die...I will just save the guy and prove to him, that I was right. The Fire type...urgh...I need to stop thinking about this..."

Ares froze as soon as he heard something skittering towards him. Four legs, light body weight: that had to be that Nincada. He saw a low-lying shadow identical to the one that he had seen prior, and thus waved his hand in a passive mannerism It would seem that his argumentative creature had returned to him for whatever reason, and thus the Charmander would call out to him, "Yeah, don't you worry. I'm not going to shoot at you - I know for certain that you aren't going to try and ambush me or anything." Swiftly, and without warning, something smashed against his body: a Quick Attack. It was equivalent to a tap, but stung like being whipped, and caused him to take a defensive step back.

He would give a hissing snarl like a reptile as he searched for this aggressor, and feel his flame begin to become bright and burn passionately. His eyes would settle upon a Surskit - quite the pugnacious little fellow - and he would issue his challenge with a small roar. Ares would spew forth petite fireballs that peppered against the blue insect's hide, causing it to recoil and scuttle back. It was still intent upon harming him, however, and was most certainly not going to roll over so quickly. No one touched him and got away with it.

((Energy: 32 - 15 + 1 - 2 = 16))
((Surskit, Level 7: Bubble, Quick Attack, ---, ---))

Ned arrived just in time to see the other Pokémon - it was a Charmander apparently - shoot a few bursts of fire at the Surskit from before. It had been so obvious, that he would attack a defenseless, innocent Pokémon, feral as it may have been.
But he couldn't just leave the guy alone now, could he?
A fine, silvery powder trickled down from behind the Nincada's stubby wings, quickly being carried away on a breeze the aforementioned wings were generating. In the air, the shining substance coalesced into cutting crescents flying towards the Surskit.
It was not the most effective attack, but it was the only usable ranged attack he had. And he definitely was not going to use that other attack.

The sight of the Surskit skittering back further as silver particles were projected towards it caused Ares to direct his reptilian gaze towards the move's caster. The Nincada from earlier - who had him entirely convinced that he was solely a pacifist - had joined the fray. Though he had elected to use an ineffective move against the pond-skater, it was certainly sufficient enough in deterring its attention from him. He would cast his battle ally a rather confident and exhilarated look prior to addressing him with a rough summary of what he had missed.

"You won't believe it!" he would announce, "This little bugger instigated a fight with me! So much for 'innocent' and 'peaceful', eh?"

As the Surskit charged forward with another Quick Attack, Ares would maneuver neatly out of the way and follow up with a Scratch attack, planting it firmly upon the insect's thorax so that maximum damage might be achieved. It would be rebuffed and knocked away with the lazy swat, and it promptly moved to right itself with its skinny, grotesque appendages. Upon achieving stability a second later, it would attempt to hit the Nincada with a Quick Attack.

Having expected an attack of this sort, the Nincada had already been standing on his hindlegs, his other two claws raised.
"You sure it wasn't just your fault again? The guy just went past me without making any trouble. Probably was just you being trigger-happy again."
While the Water type obviously was moving too quickly for Ned to avoid the attack, hitting him effortlessly, the Ground type had been prepared. The peculiar stance he had taken allowed him to use a Scratch attack, which, while not hitting too well, still did a bit of damage.
Of course he would now have to deal with the impact itself, his light build causing him to be sent flying for a few feet. Hopefully this had given the Charmander enough time.
No, Ned shouldn't think about the Charmander. There is no Fire type, there is no Fire type...

"Pretty positive," he would say aloud to his compatriot, "it must not have seen you, then. Like I said, fog and shadow are the worst combination for things that can see." How many times must he reiterate this point? This Nincada was pretty low on the ground in comparison to himself, so he might have been easily missed if he had traveled through reeds or low-lying fog. Subterfuge and stealth are easy to feats to accomplish when one does not think too much about it or are simply byproducts of one's natural gait and environment.

The Charmander was perhaps a little too satisfied in seeing the Nincada become a flying projectile. He personally considered it as the prime example of the violence inherent in all that crawled, walked, and slithered. Though he was prompt to smashing into the belligerent pest and allowing his claws to lacerate its carapace with a rather poignant Scratch attack, he could not help but feel that this was justifiable enough to never trust the Unknown and things that lingered just out of sight. The Surskit would crumple beneath his lacerating claws before perking up and frantically vacating the premises. Victory had been attained, but Ares's eyes could not pick out the Nincada's grey shell with all the fog that permeated here.

"The fact, that I saw it with my very own nearly blind eyes disproves your hypothesis. If I saw it, then it must have seen me."
While it certainly was an annoying deficit, that the Bug type could not see very well, it had finally be proven to be useful for something at least. Now, what should the Nincada do?
The adversary was defeated, the point made. Why was he still spending time in the company of this violent Fire type?
Maybe it was Ned's ego, forcing him to further argue to prove his nonviolent opinions to the Charmander.
Maybe it was Ned's fear and need for protection, that made him seek out the Charmander's company.
Or maybe it was some strange Roleplay in which the Roleplayers have to force completely incompatible characters together somehow.

The Nincada's voice once more rung out from the fog, and Ares couldn't help but shake his head. Such egocentrism was a common in the psychology of children, but perhaps he had expected more from someone whose species pretty much erupted out of the ground a year shy of being considered an adult. As he wandered into the rolling fog in order to scout the location of the insect - of whom he assumed might need some assistance - he couldn't help but be curious as to why the creature had come back. After all, if they were to have such differences over something he considered minor in all regards, why would he not leave him?

Why'd you come back, Mr. ...?" he would inquire, hoping to at least score a name out of him and use the sound of his voice to locate him.

Trying his best not to dart away, Ned responded once more:
"Ned. Ned the Nincada. And it was pretty obvious, that you would be getting into trouble with that Surskit, so I came back to help. You may be a violent buffoon, but I can't just leave you to die now, can I?"
While it was obvious, that the Charmander wouldn't take too kindly to the answer to his question, it was a simple dislike for lies, that made the Bug type respond as honestly as he did.
He would probably be toast now, but lying simply was something one should not do.

The Nincada's name was Ned? That was seemingly decent enough for a creature like himself. Ares would commit it to memory and allow it to associate with the other's face.

As it appeared that the other was set upon doubting his intelligence and fighting prowess, the Charmander could not help but release a sigh. Such petty insults, flung about in the mannerism akin to that a toddler, were not entirely becoming of the other's intelligence. It was excellent, however, that he should keep lecturing: it would facilitate the reptile's ability to find the low-lying insect in the dense fog. Eventually, having listened absentmindedly to the others rebuttal and reasoning (for it was always advised to pay attention to one's feet when one could not see farther than their own tail-fire), he would come across the location that Ned had sequestered himself to. The dull grey of the bug's carapace was easily spotted against the muted tones of greens and swamp yellows that sprouted about in the location, and casually the lizard would fold his arms and allow his brow to quirk upwards in an inquisitive manner.

"I would doubt that would be advised, Ned," he would reply, "especially after I tried to use your peace-talk or whatever it is. I admittedly thought it was you, so I tried to greet it with formalities; perhaps that was what antagonized it."

"So there might have been another factor in the Surskit's descision to attack you. Karma maybe? Or you insulted it by accident maybe. Whatever it is, that is making these creatures into the mindless beasts they are definitely is a strange thing."
While Ned had smelled the Charmander sneaking up on him, he decided not to run away. Instead he waited until the Fire type had come close enough, then abruptly turned around.
"I would have thought that you'd be able to differentiate the sounds a Surskit makes from those of a Nincada. You were able to locate me by using your hearing after all."
Why was the Charmander still after him?
There was absolutely no understandable reason for it to pursue the Bug type any further.
So what was it it wanted from him?