beatrix. two. cb 3. fin.

I was always shit with weapons. Clunky things weighing me down, and the armour. Ripred. Don't get me started on that constricting junk they've got us hurling around the gyms in now. Being a Career used to be easy. I'd rock up without any shoes on and they never blinked - now it's all about protection. Defense. Never mind about trying to kill anyone. They've got us learning how not to get killed. Useless, if you ask me, so I stick with the hand-to-hands and excel there. You don't need sneakers or torso armour to knock someone out cold with your fists. Mom and Dad groan about how I must master at least a sword, but call me stubborn - I just don't want to. Gimme a gym mat and some brass knuckles and I'll take down any meathead in a suit of armour easy peasy. It's about knowing the weak spots, and how you're only as strong as them, and not relying on anyone else but your own self. I know it's not what Mom and Dad want to hear, that they've given up trying on me and are now putting all their efforts into my little brother but hey. I'm me, just Bea, nobody else. And that's all I need!

sixteen | career | pokemon plot