It had been an exhausting fight. Both Pokemorphs stared, panting, at the other. Rygone's body trembled as he struggled to remain standing against his opponent. His blue ring lights flashed dimly as he contemplated his next move. They were quick and he was not sure he could actually win in a hand-to-hand fight.

Being a dark type, that meant that his opponent was not giving him the benefit of the doubt. Considered tricksters, cheats, and even evil by some Pokemorphs, his kind was guarded suspiciously against.

Fine then, he would have to play the range game. Keeping his opponent off-balance with projectiles.

He smiled, and what more way to play against an opponent's suspicions than by actually catering to them? Playing into their fears so that they would place more effort into avoiding his attack? Wearing themselves down.

Focusing inwardly, the shiny Umbreon felt the darkness within his body reaching out. In the palm of his hand, a small orb began to form. Like a miniature black hole, it grew consuming all light around it greedily. A signature move for many a dark type. Shadowball.

Flipping his palm forward, the young Umbreon concentrated his attack. He was a platform for a missile. A gun for a bullet.

Then he pulled the trigger.

---

I've always wondered what the dark in dark type meant for Pokemon. How would it feel to be hit by one of their attacks? Like a consuming void? Depression incarnate? Or something altogether more sinister? I suppose there's no way to really know but it's an intriguing thought all the same.

Art by  tofubread

Rygone belongs to  Rygone