Ken was not a violent young man by any means. Growing up in Enju, while he did study martial arts under his grandfather he never would have dreamed he’d use them on another person, not even in self defense. The very thought of hurting someone, anyone, rather they were good, bad, or in between made his stomach turn. It was naive to believe that all of his problems could be solved with his smile and soon he would learn from this trainer that sometimes he had to use brute force to get where he wanted no matter how sad it made him.

His slouched position left his cheek wide open for a blow; the boy’s fist connecting with Ken’s cheek with an impressive smack that not only echoed in the alley beside him but in the blonde’s head as well. Not in the sense of pain, but more him registering what had become a foreign sound to him, the sound of someone trying to hurt him. It had been years since he’s been in a fight and now it seemed his mind was processing the punch as if it shook him to his core.

Head whipping to the side Ken’s fedora was knocked off, gracefully floating to the ground next to him, his shades making a less graceful fall as they clacked onto the ground not far from his fancy hat. He had spent a lot of time making that outfit and now it was all ruined by a single punch.

Ken would look down at his fallen items for a moment, eyes spaced out and his mouth a gape as he finally pieced together from his stunned state what had just happened.

In almost an instant his chest tightened, his teeth were bared and his eyes began to well with hot tears. He shot a fierce glare at the trainer and stood at his full height now.

There wouldn’t be time for a second word, doing something out of character Ken had snapped. He’d stiffly kick the lad in his gut to hunch him over and in a show of pure power, rage, and hurt feelings wrapped his arms around his stomach before heaving him up into a powerbomb, dropping the silvery haired trainer back onto the ground with a brutal thud.

“How do you like it huh?” he barked the words as he looked down at him, his head shook as he continued his rampage. Rather Derek wanted to or not he would have his right legged picked up by ken and then overkill would occur. Ken, still fuming, placed his ankle underneath his arm in a lock and wrapped his legs around the trainer’s in a complete, 260 pound lock. Pulling the ankle back and pushing his pelvis forward he’d begin applying pressure with every muscle his body allowed. Rather or not young Derek saw the error of his ways... that was yet to be seen.

Derek Hoffman

Ken could feel the muscles tearing, the bone cracking under the pressure of his hold as he tightened the hold with the upmost prejudice. The rage inside of him didn’t allow his conscious to turn the young man loose no matter how much they screamed. This was a beat down, a beating, a mauling, a mugging whatever word that could describe this ever evolving assault would do so perfectly as the six foot three two hundred and eighty pounder tore into the much more lanky and much more light trainer with malice so extreme that even the most cold blooded of enemies would cringe at the sheer brutality on display over someone trying to defend themselves.

In the heat of this exact moment Ken had gone against everything he read in his comics as a kid, he went against human compassion and most importantly he went again everything that made him the man he was today. The kindness that he so gladly loved to radiate was replaced with anger, his compassion turned into ill will, and his once always beaming toothy grin was a monstrous beast-like sneer that would make most Pokemon back down out of pure intimidation, the blue eyed super hero wannabe had turned into nothing but a hardened thug.

With torque being put onto the ankle Ken continued to pull back on it until he could finally hear something that sounded like sweet music to his ears, the bone inside of his attacker’s leg snapped like a twig from the pressure muscle had been strained far too much and he had completed the purpose of the hold, he had crippled the person who caused him minimum harm. Still, even with the leg now broken he held the hold an additional few moments before finally releasing the now useless appendage pushing it away and rolling onto his feet as he looked down at the wounded trainer. Once he got a good look at him Ken had seen a lot of his old self in this guy, skinny and average: Sadly for them Ken hated who he was. He hated being average, he hated feeling small and that was why he worked out like he did.

His eyes snapped from the now injured leg to the male’s head as he cried out to someone or something to run away. Not having any of that, Ken leaned over the injured male and picked him up by his shirt as if he were little more than a play thing and wrapped his left arm below the male’s waist to keep him up and made sure to do the other with his free arm as he now had a good hug on him. Sitting up he’d pick him up and heave himself back, suplexing the lad onto the pavement throwing him back on release. The move would either cause them to land on their head or back given Ken’s height and the power he threw them with, but regardless of if they yelled or not Ken had pounced on them anyway now sitting on their stomach. With a left hand full of shirt and a right cocked back he’d deliver a pair of elbows to their temple to quite them down so he could continue to work.

Once it was all said and done things would go quiet and he’d look back, what his eyes laid on made his heart sink: a young Pokemon watching the action, every single bit. Ken would slowly turn his gaze from his Pokemon to the man below him and realized what he had done. His hands ran through his hair in disbelief as he shakingly backed off of Derek’s still body. His chest had gotten tight as he stared wide eyed at what he had done. “No, no, no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” his words were to no one in particular yet it sounded like he was a child begging their mother for forgiveness. Getting back up he’d look to the Pokemon and shake his head, “Y-you saw that?” he cleared his throat and looked back at the male once again. There was no choice, it seemed he’d be getting his new Pokemon tonight after all. Checking the boy’s form he’d look for the empty Pokeball the Pokemon resided in and took it.

“I know this seems odd, but...” he clicked the center and returned the Pokemon before tucking the ball away on a belt clip. With that out of the way and a pokemon stolen he looked back at them yet again and sighed. “I am so sorry.” the words were whispered as he picked the lad up and threw him over his shoulders like a rag doll, making on effort to secure his head. He couldn’t stick around until he woke up, no, he had to atleast get him somewhere safe. As they walked the cover of darkness allowed them to not look too suspicious when someone passed by he’d pretend as if he was talking to the unconscious body on his back as if they were drunk. This would work all the way up to the Pokemon Center where Ken would sit them down at the front door and bent his knee. It seemed they were in their late hours, so no one would be in the lobby to see them.

“I hope you don’t hate me Derek.” he’d pat the male on his shoulder, he had sat him up against one the wall of the red roofed building, “I’ll take good care of your Pokemon though.” with those words he’d bang on the glass doors of the center and bolted in the other direction. The sin he had committed haunted his mind, but he could barely remember anything past getting punched. A tear streaked down his face as he ran. He had left a note on Derek, having read his name on his trainer liscence he scribbled down on a note that was already conviently stashed in his pocket.

how do you like it??? take care, i hope you're okay though.

Derek Hoffman