"Yes! Wait, no! One second!" Marcus says, fumbling to pull out a journal marked "Techniques" and dropping an array of different colored pens on the ground as he does so. The not-quite-a-Trainer quickly crouches down, arms a blur and he collects his various writing apparatus, sliding them into pockets both on his breast and at his hips.

"Sorry, a little nervous," the Pokemaniac says with an awkward laugh, checking that his Type Tabs were properly secured in his Techniques manual. The Trainer does one last scan before looking at his Pokeball. Froakie. Nature: Adamant. Moves: Bubble, Lick, Pound, Quick Attack, Growl. Type: Water. Ability: Wash Away. He'd studied Augustus the whole trip here, memorized what his Pokemon was capable of. This would be it! The culmination of everything he'd learned, every butt of a joke he'd been.

Marcus takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and, for a moment, just lets his raging mind go blank. He'd prepared backwards and forwards as well as sideways for this fight, and there was nothing to be worried about at this point. All he had to do was win. No big deal!

"Ready."