And i struggle to write 6 pages for my chapters How do you do it?
Anyway, onto the (far too long) chapter~
I never really liked Meowth, but i did like the little family which you've set up. Would the Persian be Giovannis?
Pokédex as epic as always, as was the chat. But why is Falkner so wierd 0.o I like Falkner... but lol for Riley and Roark XD
And...you have harpies! Women morphing into awesome Fystor harpies! I hope Fystor stays with Leaf for a while because i like her character a lot.
And Frosti is so cute, but personally i do want to see her become a Charizard eventually.
Sorry for being so late, like usual. Read the first half the day you posted it, but then got sick. And had to go to a job fair at the choctaw casino down here. YAY! Hopefully I'll finally get a job.
I am kinda confused tho. Hasn't Frosti been a charmeleon for a while now? Bc that is how I always pictured him since...Idr when, but a while now.
@ Sinnohdragon: Would you believe, ignoring my homework? XD; Actually, the lengths can get seriously irritating. I can spend hours working on a single scene and making sure it's right. Mothertrucking HOURS. @_@ Parvati's dad ... I'm not saying anything. Yet. But she has a couple of inherited (and unrevealed) moves that'll help indicate the father's species.
As for Falkner ... let's just say there's more to him than meets the eye. Then again, there's more to everyone than meets the eye, so that's not saying much. :P
@ kingferret: No, Frosti's still a cute Charmander. :3 Only Peter's and Cheri's four evolutions have been seen in this fic. Although those four will become five, and perhaps sooner than you think ...
Anyway, this chapter ended up being around twice as long as I originally intended. Who knew writing Contests could be so time-consuming? I was surprised at how much fun I had writing it, though.
* * *
Chapter Eighteen: Put To the Contest (Starvation and Preservation! Get the Ribbon, Lightning!!)
As late dawn sparkled with the blinding radiance of jewels, the sunlight poured into the grimy kitchen, bathing it in a pale golden layer of morning. Coincidentally, yawning humans and Pokemon poured into the same room not long afterward, settling themselves around the table for breakfast.
When Bill approached with an oozing bowl and a beaming face, however, Lightning finally put his foot down.
"No," he said firmly, or at least as firmly as he could manage. "Look, Bill, this is the third day in a row we've gotten that stuff. You need to give us something else, or I'm going to leave."
Leaf's fork hit the ground with a clatter as she blinked at him, surprised at his sudden assertiveness.
The smile slid from Bill's face like casserole. "But ... but it's good for you."
"Nutritionally, maybe. But I can't see this stuff giving my Pokemon a glossy, healthy look, can you? Not to mention that I prefer food that doesn't look back at me," the short blonde added as an afterthought, cringing.
The uncertain moment of silence that followed was broken by two cute squeals; Parvati and Eevee were gazing up at the bowl in Bill's hands, eyes wide and hopeful as their tails twitched hungrily. Peach, sitting on Lightning's shoulder as usual, paused in her adoring gaze at her trainer's "heroic" stand to sneer at the Meowth with as much revulsion in her eyes as a small yellow mouse could possibly muster.
"Well ..." Bill set the bowl on the table to rub the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. "Well ... er ... the thing is ..."
"You do have more food somewhere, don't you?" Leaf tried to keep the snapping tone out of her voice, but the sight of the unappetizing gunk had stolen her appetite and, by extension, her patience.
"Ah — er, well ..."
"You have a fridge," Roark observed, pointing into the far corner of the dank kitchen, where a tall, dirty white shape loomed quietly. Anni nodded in agreement, accidentally bashing her head into an empty chair. No harm was done, however: only a brief splintering sound was heard, leaving the chair looking almost whole.
"Er ... well, that's true, but ... um ... I've got important experiments in there," Bill stammered. "Like the coagulation of a sample of hydrogen monoxide, for one. Potential scientific breakthrough there, you know. Besides, this casserole's much more preferable to the ugly possibility that one of the young female workers at the supermarket will sneer at me!"
A cricket chirped somewhere outside.
"... I just said that out loud, didn't I?"
Leaf nodded, staring at him in disbelief. Fystor snickered at the stricken look on his face.
"Are you saying," Lightning said slowly, "that you're cooking awful stuff because you're afraid of cashiers?"
"No!" Bill replied fervently, eager to banish the misconception. "Nonononono, that's all wrong. The problem is that, while secluding myself from normal people in my effort to go as far as possible in my studies, I became ... what's the phrase I'm looking for ... socially dysfunctional. I REGRET NOTHING!" he added in a defensive, booming voice, causing everyone else to jump. "NOTHING, I TELL YOU! NOTHING WITH A CAPITAL 'N'! IT'S FAR BETTER FOR THE WORLD THAT I TURNED INTO A HERMITY SCHOLAR BECAUSE OF IT, RIGHT, BECAUSE OF MY AMAZING PC'S THAT ARE USEFUL TO EVERYBODY, BUT ESPECIALLY ME SINCE THEY'RE THE SOURCE OF MY WEALTH! AND NOW I CAN SIT BY MY AWESOME RADIO EQUIPMENT THAT ONLY I'M AWESOME ENOUGH TO USE, SO I CAN SCHEME LIKE A BAD GUY! EXCEPT I'M NOT, SO HA!"
"Um ..."
"I DID IT!" Bill went on, jabbing at the mysterious gadgets sitting mechanically on the counter. "IT WAS ALL ME, AHAHAHA! I DID IT! ME, ME, ME! I AM FINANCIALLY THE MOST POWERFUL PERSON ON THE PLANET, AND MAYBE THAT'S NOT AS GOOD AS PHYSICALLY OR MENTALLY OR SPIRITUALLY, BUT I DON'T CARE, I'M ALREADY AT THE TOP OF MY GAME! I'M AS SHARP AS A TACK ANYWAY! THEY TOLD ME IT WOULD NEVER WORK, MY PC SCHEME. BUT IT DID! I SHOWED THEM! WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, EH?"
Frosti cocked his head at him. <Is this the part where you're more "mad" than "scientist"?>
Fystor smirked at the brunette's apparent insanity. The three teens just stared.
"I'M RICHER THAN THEM! I DON'T NEED TO FOLLOW THEIR NARROW-MINDED CONFORMITIES, NOT WHEN I'M ABOVE THEM ALL! THEY THINK THEY'RE SO COOL FOR BEING SOCIALLY ADEPT, BUT THEY'RE NOT, BECAUSE THEY'RE FOUL LITTLE PESTS! ALTHOUGH I LOVE THEM ANYWAY, BECAUSE I GET THEIR MONEY! I AM THE CHEESE, FOOLISH MORTALS! FUFUFUFUFUFU!"
<'Kay,> said Eevee, gazing up at him. <He's either had too much coffee, or hasn't had coffee at all today. I'm not sure which ...>
"Maybe we should go," Leaf proposed, as Bill turned his whole attention to the stuffed Feraligatr on the floor.
The others nodded in agreement, quickly and quietly getting up and leaving the psychotic genius to his rambling, while his furry Pokemon moved deeper into the kitchen, sniffing through the mess on the floor as if hunting for a box of coffee beans. Even in the dark hall, where cracks spread across the wall like spiderwebs, his shouting still echoed around them.
"I think," Leaf said, in a voice that seemed to indicate she'd gotten the false notion that she could speak for the group at this point, "we should see how you're doing with your strategy, Lightning. And you," she said, turning to Fystor as the bird-woman pulled open the door, the sudden flood of sunlight illuminating the look of amusement on her clever face, "should finally get around to ..." She paused, glancing sideways at Roark, who alone was not part of this scheme. "... To giving us an explanation. Yes, of course. Because Arceus knows we need one."
They stepped out into the light, which seemed especially warm and delightful after the dank house with its mad scientist. Unlike the previous morning, humidity didn't permeate the air; no shimmering droplets of moisture glistened in the grass underneath their moving feet to indicate a rainfall the night before. Frosti beamed as the rays of light hit his face, and his tail-flame expanded slightly in response. He glanced over at Cheri, who looked very dramatic even in this ragtag band of misfits. Her body was slightly tensed, as usual, but one great ruby eye rolled in his directions and winked closed, just for a second. His grin widened at the subtle gesture.
<Yeah,> said Anni, glaring up at the girl with squinting eyes. Few things are universal, but among those few is the mystery of how beautiful people can gaze in the direction of the sun without apparent discomfort while the less appealing people (by human standards, mind you) only end up comically blinded. <Yeah, and meanwhile I guess we should just skip back off to Sinnoh and never look at your mug again, which is a gorgeous possibility for me at this point, and then not manage to survive long enough to regret returning afterward. Is that it?>
"Well, I—"
<Thanks to you, now I've got to keep two bubbleheads from falling off a cliff!> the Cranidos snapped. <Or drowning themselves, or something. And that's only part of the whole thing. I was better off before resurrection, dammit!>
"That's enough, Anni," her trainer chastened. "I'm not going to fall off a cliff, anyway. As for you two ... are you seriously planning to go off wih her? You don't have any idea what you're getting into here—"
"Hey," said Leaf, raising an eyebrow at him. "Does this mean you're talking to me again?"
"No! I mean ... um ..."
"Whatever. Look, this has absolutely nothing to do with you, so if you'd just turn around and leave, I'd be happy. We've got stuff to talk about that's really important, and you're delaying us, so shove off, okay?"
Roark shook his head almost pityingly. "You wouldn't say that if you knew just who she was."
"Don't be retarded, obviously we know who she is—"
"That's not exactly what he means, Leaf," Fystor cut in, still smirking as if enjoying some private joke. "He's talking about what I stand for and what I can do, not just what I call myself."
"Pfft, he doesn't even know that—"
"Fystor, Goddess of Retribution." Roark kept his wary gaze fixed on the woman, who seemed far from surprised at his knowledge. "The Avenger, the Judge, the Holder of Balance, Watcher over the Twins, Ambassador of the Legends, Guardian of Aura, Wings of Justice, Punisher of the Guilty. Isn't that right?"
The others' mouths dropped open comically.
"You missed 'Protecter of Order and the Law'," Fystor said idly, examining her perfect nails. "And I'm not the Punisher of the Guilty, you're mixing me up with Ambrez."
"Oh. I knew I was forgetting something."
"You — you know what she is?" Leaf sputtered, looking to and fro between them. "What the hell?"
Fystor yawned. "He was listening to us yesterday, obviously. How else? My disguise is pretty damn good, so no chance of seeing through that, right? There wasn't any problem with him eavesdropping, anyway. Which is good news for you, my boy, because otherwise you'd have been a smoking pile of ash before you'd heard the first sentence."
They hadn't thought that Roark could turn even paler, but from the look on his face, apparently he could.
"I really would love to break the situation down for all of you, but I won't yet," she went on, sounding almost bored. "Not until you quit being a proud idiot, Leaf. Humility is critical when dealing with us gods, just so you know."
"B-but—" Lightning began.
"No," Fystor said, firmly this time. "As for right now, why don't you show Leaf and I what you plan to do with the Contest? We can head down there after that, and grab some real food on the way. You won't be coming," she added, turning back to Roark, "since Contests really don't agree with you anymore, and either way there's a tiny matter going on back at Mount Moon you should deal with."
He blinked. "Um, okay. Why?"
"You'll see. Its outcome'll be very relevant to your interests. Just plan on meeting us back here at around six this evening or so. But go eat something first, will you? You haven't had any food since lunch yesterday."
Confusion mingled with the caution in his stare: whatever he'd been picturing himself doing when he'd left home, it hadn't had anything to do with a god telling him to run some sort of errand, and not even one of the prevent-the-apocalypse variety at that.
"Do hurry," Fystor told him. "We don't want the Rockets to succeed, do we?"
"No ..." he said slowly, still staring at her.
"Mmph."
"Shut up, Pokedex," Leaf snapped, without even looking in the direction of her handbag.
"You're very prejudiced against machinery, Naaaarrrrrrrgh, did you know that?"
She didn't humor it with a reply.
"You will meet me here later, right?" Roark asked finally, glancing from one person to the next. "Instead of just running off on some full-blown quest or something without even telling me? There're things I need to—"
Fystor cut him off with a curt nod. "But the answers to your questions may not be to your liking."
He opened his mouth as if he were about to argue; a second look at her unblinking silvery eyes, however, caused him to snap it shut. "If you say so," he conceded, returning her nod respectfully. "C'mon, Anni. Let's leave them to their whispering for now."
The Cranidos tore her eyes from the goddess's form, apparently still mulling over her appearance. <We're left out, though. Again.>
"Anni," he replied patiently, "the thing is, when a god tells you to do something, you do it. Anyway, I'm starving, and somewhere in Cerulean is a big plate of waffles with my name on it."
At this, the dinosaur nodded with sudden vigor; her timing implied that the word "god" had less to do with her sudden enthusiasm than the word "waffles". <Works for me, but I'm getting the ones with blueberries.>
"See you later!" Lightning called after them as they turned and headed back for the distant glimmering of Cerulean; they waved back briefly before starting up an unheard conversation. The blonde then smiled weakly at the young women, both of whom looked down at him from their comparatively tall heights. "So, do you guys wanna see how they're shaping up? Or would you rather be surprised?"
"Surprise us," Leaf replied dully: the news that she'd have to wait for any sort of revelation had drained any remaining interest. "Maybe that'll make watching the thing a bit less boring." Seeing Lightning's hopeful expression deflate, she added hastily, "But I guess we can see what they do, if you want to show us. Cheri, return." She aimed the red-and-white sphere at the golden bug, who didn't even have time to blink in surprise before she dissolved into her confinement.
His grin returned. "Sure, that's cool." Taking two Poke Balls of his own from his belt, he unleashed Peter and Maggie, who joined Peach as she scampered down from Lightning's shoulder and stood attentively next to Dory, who looked sullen as usual. "Ready for a test run, guys?"
<Yeah!> Peach cheered, beaming up at him.
The giant butterfly at her side fluttered his broad white wings as he pumped the air with a stubby fist. <Damn straight, foo'!>
Dory muttered something under her breath, and Maggie merely blinked at her trainer, unimpressed.
"Great!" Lightning pretended not to notice their lack of interest. "Let's start with you, Peter!"
<Dat's right!> the Butterfree exclaimed, flexing his wings. <Let's show dese guys what da 'free can do!>
"Give them a look at the powders! As you can see—" Lightning turned to Fystor and Leaf, who watched with mild interest as Peter took off into the air with several flaps of his mighty wings. "—Peter's new form gives him a wider range of motion, as well as a broader movepool. He can now unleash different kinds of powders, and after some practice last night, he can limit himself to one type at a time, instead of just blowing out a whole cloud of mixed types at once. It increases the mass of the total powder released and so gives the result more potency."
Drifting on the breeze six feet above their heads, Peter brought his wings down with a single, mighty swoosh; bits of poisonously purple dust drifted from the edges of their scales, floating ominously in the air. The Butterfree then flapped them in a steady, even rhythm, and with every wingbeat a cloud of pale green shimmered into being, originating at the bases of his scales instead. Finally, he shifted into a rapid, erratic speed, fluttering back and forth as an eerie gold powder detatched himself, in the form of a floating mist, from the dark place where his wings joined his body.
"He can use his Confusion to arrange them the way he wants," Lightning went on, indicating the glowing colors of the powders as they dissipated in the wind; Peter fluttered down next to him, looking overly pleased with his performance. "Since he needs more battling experience as a Butterfree, I'll more likely be using him in the appeal round if I want him to be in today's Contest. And along with that, he'll unleash his secret weapon." He struck a cheesy pose, causing everyone else to sweatdrop.
<Dat's da way it's done, mah boi!> Peter agreed, smirking toothily.
"As for Maggie ... well, she'll need water to pull off her appeal," Lightning confessed, rubbing the back of his head. "Often there're small pools in Contest Halls for Water Pokemon, but since that type's so abundant here, I don't know if her appeal'll be original enough ..."
<Your overconfidence in me is utterly undeserved,> Maggie muttered sarcastically.
"Now, Dory's tendency to be straightforward is better for the battle round," the blonde continued. "She shows her greatest potential when she's got an opponent to beat, hand-to-hand. Let 'em see your Kick-Sting combo, Dory!"
<This is stupid,> the Nidoran muttered, showing her large buckteeth in a sneer of disdain; nevertheless, she tensed her muscles, then suddenly smashed one hind leg against the ground, using the abrupt force to push herself into the air. She somersaulted for a moment in midair — Leaf's interest increased dramatically as she watched the Pokemon's movement — then half-curled into a ball as she flew toward a nearby tree. Just before impact, her other leg shot out, slamming against the tree's bark ... she arched backwards, and several small stingers on her back, loosened by the blow, sprayed the plant, every last one hitting it dead-on. Spinning backward as she fell, Dory hit the ground rolling, before jumping to her paws, looking completely unfazed.
"Great job! And Peach—"
But the Pichu started before he could finish his command: her eyes narrowed cutely as she stared back at him, and her glare could have been almost adorable were it not for the uncomfortable sensation that she was planning something. Leaf had barely formed the thought that the mouse was imagining doing naughty things with Lightning when Peach tensed, concentrating; a deep indigo sphere abruptly flickered into existence above her head, scattering its pure light everywhere as it expanded to the size of a basketball. The sphere flickered and split into several spheres of the same size and color. They began to spin around Peach's small body, picking up an impressive speed almost immediately. The whole thing had hardly taken a second, so Leaf was caught by surprise as the Pokemon stood up straight, throwing her arms backward with a loud "CHUUUUUUU!" Small, jagged bolts of lightning leapt from the mouse's yellow fur, shooting off in all directions in a sort of gentle explosion; the spheres followed, gleaming enigmatically as they sped off to unseen destinations.
"Brilliant!" Lightning applauded enthusiastically, scooping the mouse into his arms and hopping around. "You pulled it off perfectly, Peach! With a technique like that, you could fit easily into either of the rounds!"
<I love you too, Lightning,> the mouse giggled happily, snuggling into his arm.
Leaf's heart sank as the full impact of Lightning's talent washed over her. Those strategies were way more brilliant than mine, and that's just Contest stuff! I can't even beat a gym by myself, much less pull off such a skilled move like that!
<Brilliant show, lad,> a voice cawed from a nearby bush. <Gorgeous stuff. It's too blinding not to see.>
The girl jerked from her lamentation with a startled gasp — had Vember found them again? She glanced up at Fystor, but the woman only looked amused again, which relaxed her slightly, allowing her heart's painful, rapid thudding to slow.
At the sound of the caw Lightning frowned, looking over at the bush as a small bird, no larger than Peach, stumbled out of it. The bird's plumage was a nondescript brown color, though his overgrown feathers spiked unevenly at the ends. He swayed a bit drunkenly, spreading his red wings to steady himself; as he opened them flutteringly, their pale undersides flashed in and out of view before he finally regained his balanced, looking rather pleased with himself. His eyes peered at them from over a hooked beak, gazing at them shrewdly and rather lazily, which seemed odd behavior from a—
"How do you pronounce its name again?" Lightning asked nobody in particular, as Peach scampered back to her usual position on his shoulder, mirroring his confusion. "I mean, people say it differently everywhere, and I have no idea what the right one is—"
"The Oxford English Dictionary pronounces it 'spare-oh'," the Pokedex informed them, peeking up from the depths of Leaf's handbag.
"Oh. Well—"
"Encyclopedia Britannica pronounces it 'speer-oh'," the machine went on unhelpfully, "and Wikipedia says it's 'speh-roh'. But personally, I prefer to call it something more factually correct, like 'spay-roh'."
Dory shot it a cold glare.
"But enough of that. Spay-roh, the Bloody Nuisance Pokemon. Gender is Male. Height is Tweety Bird, Weight is Fatass Turkey. It's annoyingly protective of whatever it thinks it owns, but it's a huge coward without about a million others to back it up. That's either a really deep metaphor that I can't figure out, although it might have something to do with teamwork or cowardice, but they're both the same thing in the end, obviously — or just a species problem that means they're stupid. They've got neat eyesight, but from the look of this midget I guess its peepers've been dimmed by enough beer to drown a Wailmer, amirite?"
<Rum,> the Spearow corrected, lurching slightly closer. <Rum's good. Where's the rum?> He looked around the area in confusion, as if expecting an enormous bottle of alcohol to jump out of nowhere and honor them with a hat-and-cane routine.
<Why would you be looking for booze here?> Dory's lip curled upward as she stared in disbelief at the bird. <We're all minors ... mostly.> She paused, glancing up at Fystor for the briefest of moments. <Anyway, it's really bad for somebody to drink, Spearow, or didn't you know that?>
<The name's Jack, luv,> said the Spearow. <Perry Jack. Where's the rum?>
The Nidoran's eyes blazed with a sudden dark fire. <"Luv", am I, now? I did not lose all this weight just to be showered with meaningless terms of endearment by some wasted featherhead!>
Frosti blinked. <... You lost weight?>
<When there's a way to do things,> Perry Jack slurred, putting emphasis on the words in an almost sing-song rhythm, <it works best if you do it right. Fr'example ...> He leaned backward slightly on his clawed feet, sticking his wings in front of him as if trying to find his balance again. <There's a flashy, look-at-me sorta method. And on the other hand, then there's the bit where you actually do something. 'Snot too confusing for your pretty lil' head, is it?>
His slurred chirruping finally made something in Dory snap: trembling with rage, she growled furiously at him with narrowed eyes, tensing her muscles in anticipation. <Okay, bird, now you've crossed the line! Get ready to eat dirt!>
<Ooh, a fight!> Peach leaned forward, eagerness lighting up her intent gaze. <Beat him good, Dory!>
Lightning frowned at his Nidoran's attitude. "But ... but Dory, what about the Contest? You'll be too tired to—"
<Screw the Contest,> Dory snarled. <Nobody but nobody calls my head "pretty" and "lil'".>
<'Sa funny thing,> Perry Jack remarked, blinking vaguely, <but I woulda thought you'd prefer "pretty lil'" to "big and honkin' ugly", unless there were some inferiority complex at work—>
<Shut UP!>
"Tail-Kick him!" Lightning called out hastily as Dory scampered across the grass towards her newfound foe; she hastily complied to his wishes by using the momentum of her pattering gait to throw herself around, twisting on her front feet to send her flying, rear-first, at the bird, who cocked his head to the side curiously as her butt wagged from side to side, not noticing it was getting ominously closer until her hind feet had knocked him into the ground with a decisive pow-pow!
Perry Jack glared at her blearily as she landed on her feet, facing him again. <And so it begins.>
Dory returned his gaze stubbornly, only to prick her ears, then cower back slightly at the sight of his eyes: those beady pupils expanded rapidly into light-swallowing circles of darkness, obliterating even the whites of his eyes. Leaf, her mind wandering back to the depression of two days ago, dimly remembered the move which the Mankey had used. Leer, wasn't it?
"Stay with it, Dory!" Lightning called, and his voice broke into a cheer as Dory shook her head to clear it, staring the bird down. "Atta girl! Just keep your eye on him. Let him move first, but Poison Sting him when you get the chance!"
The Spearow blinked, and his eyes immediately reverted to their normal, beady appearance. <This ain't gonna work out b'tween us, luv,> he said almost sadly, clacking his beak as he spread his wings; with a great "SPEAAAAAARRR!" he took off, soaring toward her with his head extended forward.
Narrowing her own eyes, Dory watched him sail in closer and closer, lowered her upper body to the ground — and pushed herself into the air with her forelegs, sending her back over her head as she somersaulted briefly in midair and slammed into Perry Jack at the exact moment that he tried to jab her violently with his beak. He had only stabbed her twice before being thrown backward, warbling in pain at the several small blue spines had been smashed into his face. Both Pokemon hit the ground, muttering as they gave their respective injuries cursory glances.
<Like flying, do you?> Dory twitched her huge ears as she pushed herself to a standing position. <Try this on for size, bird!> She tensed again, but this time she leapt straight up into the sky — as the wind rushed around her, its currents formed into brilliant white streaks through which her determined rabbity face could be seen — abruptly she turned sharply in midair, slicing downward with eyewatering speed; almost immediately she hit him, and both tumbled away upon impact. The streaks of wind had lost their color and gone on their merry way long before the two Pokemon rolled to a stop, both gasping.
<Aerial Ace, eh, luv?> A hacking chuckle clawed its way out of Perry Jack's throat. <Flashy, that. Though it'a been better 'fyou'da not wasted so much time in ac'ually doin' it, y'see?>
Then, in a collapse of dirty brown feathers, he crumpled the ground, spread-eagled and panting heavily.
"Whoohoo! Great work, Dory, you did it! Now, time for him to join us!"
Lightning plucked an empty Poke Ball from his belt; tossing it at the semi-conscious wild Pokemon with a flourish, he watched intently as the sphere opened, sucked the converted matter into its mysterious depths, and closed with a soft snap, not even slightly wobbling before the decisive ping!
"Weeeee are the chaaaampions!" Lightning sang, breaking into an impromptu Egyptian-style dance that made Leaf laugh and Fystor facepalm. "My frieeeeends ... c'mon, Dory, why not celebrate? Dory? ... Dory?"
The Nidoran, not seeming to hear him, twitched; aside from that involuntary movement, she was frozen in the same position she had landed in after her Aerial Ace. Laughter dying on his lips, Lightning took a few steps toward his prone Pokemon—
A pressure against his legs stopped him. He looked down to see Peter there, a stubby arm still outstretched to halt his progress.
<Ya shouldn' get any closa ta her, mah boi.> The Butterfree shook his head almost pityingly.
Lightning opened his mouth — but Dory's sudden scream cut him off: a faint glow rippled down her hapless body as she collapsed, thrashing about in some unseen agony. He gaped in horror as he watched her buck forward, claws groping at thin air — there was an ominous crackling noise, and her yowl jumped a couple of octaves as her wildly jerking limbs stretched impossibly further, like snakes — a sudden series of snaps made everyone gasp: her spine was breaking.
"Dory!" Lightning wailed over her shrieking, trying to sidestep Peter to get to her side. The Butterfree pushed his trainer back again, this time with a broad wing; undeterred, the boy rushed at her again — only to get a faceful of green powder. He blinked, yawned once, and toppled over into a sudden sleep. The thump as he hit the grass was drowned out by Dory's yowls as blood spurted from her stretching legs.
<I'm sorry,> Peter murmured, and for the first time, he looked truly empathetic. <I'm sorry ...>
A loud rip brought the scream to a crescendo — and Frosti couldn't take it anymore. Hands shaking, he turned away from the awful sight of huge spines bursting out of Dory's back, and clawed wildly at Leaf's pant leg; the girl jerked out her frozen state of horror at the sudden welling of pain, bending down automatically to feel the bleeding scratches. "OW! Frosti, what the hell do you think you're—"
<Cheri!> he sobbed, collapsing at her sandaled feet. <I need Cheri!>
Leaf stared at him. "Are you kidding? She'll just rip up Pe—"
<Nooooooo!> he moaned. Tears squeezed between his tightly shut eyelids. <Cheri, help ... can't fight ...>
Parvati tore her captivated gaze from Dory's expanding body (the bones creaking as they enlarged, tearing through muscle like butter) and fixed it instead on him and Leaf. <Frosti?> she asked uncertainly, darting over to him. <What's up, Frosti? It's not you evolving, so what's wrong?>
<Cheri.> The Charmander shuddered, recoiling from Parvati's hesitantly outstretched paw. <Can't hold on ...>
The Meowth tilted her whiskery head to the side. <Well, if you really want her ...> Pushing herself onto her hind paws, she leapt a few feet into the air, batting at the button of Cheri's Poke Ball.
A flash of light, and the insect stood there, blinking in the sun and looking like some avenging buggy angel. At the sight of Frosti's cowering form, however, she dropped to her knees, gentle warmth melting away the red ice of her gaze. <Frosti,> she breathed, scooping him up in a protective embrace. <Frosti, Frosti, what ...?> Her eyes flickered upward, narrowing she watched Dory thrash about, new fangs visible as her open mouth continued to pour out a jerking scream.
Leaf sucked her in her breath through her teeth. "Cheri, get back in your ball. I do NOT want you killing Peter right now!"
The Beedrill didn't seem to hear her, however. <Just hold on, Frosti,> she murmured, tightening her hold on his hitching body. <Shush, Frosti. Breathe. Keep hold of your mind ...>
"Hey!" the Pokedex exclaimed; swiveling around, Leaf was astonished to see Fystor, cool as ever, pulling a slender silver cell phone from her pocket. "What're you doing, your legendariness? Aren't you supposed to save the day or something?"
"Obviously." Still perfectly calm, Fystor proceeded to push a few of its buttons. "I'm the only one with enough sense left to dial 911, or haven't you noticed? Evolution is nasty at the best of times, after all, and this one has just crossed the line ..."
The last thing Frosti heard, before terror sent him catapulting into unconsciousness, was the twin wailing of sirens mingling with Dory's broken, shrieking cry ...
Frosti's eyelids fluttered. He blinked at the sudden influx of light, taking in the familiar (though sideways) sight of the Pokemon Center lobby, with its sterile-white walls and nose-burning scent of cleaner.
<Awake?> Cheri's voice held a tone of gentle amusement. <I was wondering when you'd come around.>
Groaning, he pushed himself into a sitting position; the world righted itself into its normal dimensions of ceiling above, walls around, floor below. Remembering the blood-chilling yowls emanating from Dory's bleeding throat, the quiet of this place, disturbed only by the electric hum of the lights hanging above them, felt eerie and surreal. The thought of evolution made forced him into a reflexive self-checkup: Horn? No. Red scales? No. Manical desire to eat everybody in sight? Only if everybody had turned into steaks. Relieved, he let his eyes traveled beyond his unclenching claws to the spindly black legs dangling next to him on the sofa, and he relaxed. He didn't need to see Cheri's golden form to feel relieved at her comforting, understanding presence. <Where is everyone?> he asked, leaning back.
<In the back with Nurse Joy.> The Beedrill sighed softly. <Dory was in seriously bad shape when the ambulance pulled up. You don't need every ounce of possible strength to evolve — loads of Pokemon are near dead with exhaustion when it hits — but you need the proper amounts of nutrients to bolster your endurance, or else the process is far, far bloodier, to say the least.> She shifted slightly next to him. <From what I heard the doctors say, Dory hasn't been eating nearly as much she should. Nidoran have a natural layer of baby fat that only burns off when they evolve, according to them. That's why none of us suspected anything. But now, with that fat gone ...> The bee fell contemplatively silent.
Frosti gaped down the softly lit hall beyond the desk, from which hushed voices drifted solemnly. <How bad is it?> he whispered finally.
<They said she's at fifty-five percent of normal Nidorina body weight,> Cheri replied quietly. <Fifty-five ... that's not much heavier than you are, Frosti. I saw her ribs sticking out like ... fenceposts, or something ...> Her voice faltered. <I really don't have a good comparison for it.>
<That's awful.> The Charmander shivered slightly. <D'you think she'll—>
<Hush.> Cheri held up a spear to quiet him. <They're coming.>
They strained to listen, the soft clatter of sneakers on tile reaching their unseen ears. Finally a voice spoke up, a light voice that somehow only served to emphasize the seriousness of its owner's words. "If we keep injecting them into her, we can increase her heart rate to one-oh-five a minute. That'll still be low, but at least it's approaching healthy range. But she'll definitely need to stay here at the Center until she hits forty pounds, at least. Performing, obviously, will be out of the question."
"It's my fault." Lightning's voice cracked as he spoke. "I should've ... I should've been watching her closer. I should've seen ..."
"It's not a change you could've seen," the other responded kindly. "You can't be blamed for that. Although it's true that you could have kept an eye on how much she was eating ... and there is a note in your file here, my cousin stuck it in, saying you were overusing your Pichu's Volt Tackle ..."
A groan interrupted her. "I'm hopeless, aren't I, Nurse?"
"Hardly," said the Nurse. "You're just a noob. Noobs can't be expected to do everything right."
Four human figures stepped into view in the hall: the pink-haired, generic-looking Nurse crossed on small, tidy steps to her usual place behind the counter, looking prim and proper in spite of the blood staining her apron and slender hands; Lightning, face white with anxiety, faced her. Leaf, looking solemn, crossed the waiting area to her Pokemon, watched intently by Fystor as the bird-woman leaned against the wall patiently.
"She'll be okay," Leaf told them, as if they hadn't heard already. "Oh, the poor bunny ... I don't know how you managed it when you evolved, Cheri. It happened twice to you! It seems so awful ..."
<Finally you've got it figured out,> Frosti whispered, drawing a look of surprised confusion from his trainer.
"... at least two weeks," Joy was telling Lightning, who nodded mutely. Peach, sitting quietly on his shoulder, leaned her large ear against his head in a comforting sort of gesture; he reached up to scratch it absentmindedly. "Please don't worry so much about it, we've seen cases far worse than this. I'm confident she'll recover to perfect health."
He nodded vaguely, staring down at the empty space on his belt where Dory's Poke Ball used to hang.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll need to wash off!" Joy's usual cheesy giggle crept back into her voice, making Leaf groan. "Because blood isn't a very nice thing to be wearing, especially when I have to go judge the Contest soon!"
His head snapped up. "Contest? Oh, I completely forgot!" He made a jerking motion, starting to run for the door; a thought seemed to occur to him, however, for he abruptly paused. "I-I'd like to come back later to see her," he told Joy, almost apologetically. "After the Contest. If that's all right, of course."
The Nurse nodded, and with a beaming expression he continued in his flight for glory.
"Same old Lightning," Leaf sighed, watching him scamper out the door; Joy stared after him, mouth hanging open in surprise. "Well, at least he's been taken down a peg. He's cool, but it's really hard to stand him, since he's so much better at what he does than I am!"
Her Pokemon exchanged exasperated glances, noticing with twin twinges of satisfaction that Fystor's lip curled upward in an expression of distaste. Oblivious to both of these, the girl headed off after him, unhurried, with the three Pokemon soon following close behind.
They swept through the Hall door to enter a garish lobby, decorated so extravagantly as to almost hide its plain rectangular shape: broad, obnoxiously-colored ribbons hung from the ceiling, which boasted several twinkling plastic stars. Puffy blue sofas were scattered around at intervals, trying to go for an artsy pattern but failing miserably; a few people sat on them, glancing up anxiously at the endless ticking of a star-shaped clock. A loudspeaker was situated high up on a wall, blaring the obnoxious voice of everyone's favorite Jamaican crab: "Unda da sea ... unda da sea ..."
"At last!" Lightning exclaimed, beaming as he strode confidently toward the receptionist desk to sign himself in. Yet a bit of sadness stained his smile — clearly he wouldn't forget that Dory wasn't there to share the experience.
"Hi, you guys!!!" The pink-haired young woman behind the desk rushed around to meet them, beaming: even separated from her sisters, Lily's cheerful stupidity was unabated, a fact only emphasized by her horrifying overuse of exclamation points. "Signing up, Lightning?!! It's a bit late, but you can still get in!! And I'm glad you can, 'cause the more the merrier!!!"
Peach cringed, and even Fystor couldn't resist pressing her lips into a tight line of exasperation.
"Just sign here!!!" Lily gestured excitedly to an important-looking paper on the desk, which Lightning cautiously approached as he drew forth a pen from the jar nearby. "Put down your name, and the Pokemon you're using for appeal!! And the other Pokemon you'll use for battling, of course!!! And nicknames, if they have any, because people love it when we can announce their nicknames too, and it makes it more exciting and pretty!!!"
Finished, Lightning gave her a small nod. "I guess," he said carefully, unwilling to giver her further reason to be excited. "I'm happy to be here. Isn't it great, Peach?" He scratched the electric mouse's ear fondly, and she giggled softly in response.
"Great!! Now you can wait over there in the prep area, where you can give your Pokemon a pep talk, if you want!! And you and your friend can go find seats in the auditorium, 'kay, Leaf?!! I bet you can find ones with a really good view!!!"
"Sure ..." Leaf gave the beaming pink-haired woman a sideways glance. "Of course. Good luck, Lightning! Make us proud, and Dory, too!"
"Count on it! Dory," he sighed, watching Leaf and Fystor cross over to the set of stairs on the other side of the room; the steps would take them into the expanse of seats overlooking the auditorium. "I really hope she will be okay ..."
He set off down a nearby corridor, which Lily still pointed at after him, beaming stupidly. The ocean blue of the surrounding walls gave him a distinct sense of claustrophobia, shoving into his mind the unwanted image of Dory laying prone in that room for weeks upon weeks, slowly suffocating ... He shook the thought out of his head with a slight shudder. A rumble sounded chasteningly in his stomach; he still hadn't eaten anything.
Abruptly the corridor turned sharply to the right; following it, he blinked at the sudden burst of light raining on his eyes. Setting foot in the new room rather cautiously, he observed that it was roughly the size of the lobby he had left behind. Several Coordinators were seated on its deep blue furniture, however: preppy girls chattering incessantly on their cell phones, shady young men slouching moodily in their chairs, even a few old people muttering to themselves about how much better things were in the old days. Pokemon of various shapes, sizes, and states of anxiety stood beside their owners; it appeared they'd just undergone the traditional "this is it" speech and were now wondering exactly why they were doing this in the first place. A large screen covered most of one wall, displaying commercials that the obnoxious voice leaking from the speakers underneath seemed only to happy to vocalize for. And there, on the wall across from him, stood the door.
The only thing standing between him and the place of his dreams.
Taking a deep breath, he crossed nervously to an empty chair fairly close to the screen. A few other Coordinators glanced up curiously at him as he passed, but he did his best not to look around at his competition. Sinking into the chair, he decided that perhaps it lucky he hadn't eaten.
Only a few torturous seconds had passed when—
"Oh, so you actually think you can stand a chance against me? Please. I've had tougher competition from an ugly clown, although you bear a striking resemblance to him."
Shocked, his head jerked upward involuntarily at the face of the girl standing in front of him, hands on her hips with a superior expression. His mouth dropped open at the sight of her glaring, unforgettable face.
Kaleri Kutter.
* * *
Pickaxe held teeteringly over his head, Cobalt paused. He glanced upward, craning his neck to catch sight of Bulbasaur, who was sitting on a rock several feet above him. "Did you say something?"
She took her sweet time turning her red eyes toward him, fixing him with her usual impatient glare. <No. Does your brain need replacing?>
He scowled vaguely and turned his attention from her sneer to the grunts sat tiredly on nearby boulders, taking a break from their incessant digging; their languid forms were scattered across his vision like the pebbles lying across the sandy ground under his feet. They're too out of breath to have said anything. Lazy *******s, he said to himself, ignoring the fact that he hadn't done a thing to help until fifteen minutes ago. It was the expected thing to do, after all: unearthing these ancient relics of the past would gloriously seal his chances at receiving the much-coveted rank of executive. Besides, those people were grunts. Of course they were going to do the dirty work.
But his mind was on something else.
"Gina?" he asked uncertainly, as said young woman approached from her nearby lookout point; even in spite of her liking for them, she too knew the importance of keeping them in their place.
Yawning, she tossed her copper hair around her head, more out of habit than anything. "What?"
"Did somebody ... no. Never mind." Because if there's anybody who wasn't going to hear anything, it's Gina.
"Yeah, well, okay. Have you found any more yet?"
"No." He wiped a trickle of sweat off his brow, careful not to knock off his wig (today a mass of golden spikes) in the process. "But there's got to be more somewhere around here. If two Pokemon died here when the meteor hit, it stands to reason that they weren't the only buggers around, right?"
"I guess," she said, though she didn't sound very convinced. "But we do need to leave soon. The police are still swarming around the mountain, it's a miracle they haven't found us yet. And then I wanna go back to headquarters." She stifled a huge yawn with a slender hand. "I really don't get what's so great about this whole adventure business, anyway. The real adventure is finding all the best sales, don't you think?"
She went on about the relative prices of bikinis, but Cobalt, in spite of the subject matter, ignored her. He was getting the strange notion that this particular errand for glory would fail if they didn't move now. Of course, he tried to push the thought away as soon as it arrived, but the nagging feeling persisted. Don't be stupid, he told himself. There'll be loads more of those things sitting in the rock, just waiting for us to scoop them up— His eyes flickered to the already-unearthed fossils laying on the ground, the watchful eyes of grunts trained upon them protectively. —And we can get them back to base along with the Moon Stone bits and the amber thingy. The scientists will worship us for it. And the Boss ... He smirked, nodding to himself. He'll catapult me into power. Just wait.
Cheered at the thought, he swung the pickaxe down at the stone before him yet again, as Gina continued to babble as if he were actually listening. What reached his ears instead was the satisfying crack of rock; retracting the tool's pointed head from the newly-formed fissure, he let the work carry him away from any anxiety. Surely he'd only imagined that someone had quietly whispered in his ear, clearly audible over the chattering of grunts and falling rock: They are watching.
He raised the pickaxe again, ignoring his itching palm ...
Last edited by SugarPesticide; 15th December 2009 at 1:48 PM.
Of course, someone was watching. Quite a few someones, in fact.
<Look at them,> somebody scoffed, as piercing red eyes gazed from a towering scruffy bush situated perhaps fifty yards from the Rockets' camp. <They've probably barely tapped the stuff. And him, over there, look at him! He's holding that pickaxe all wrong. What the hell, I say. Just, what the hell.>
"It's not like they've been raised in a mining environment, though." Glass glinted as another person peered from the depths of the large hedge. "They can't help it. But they are being pretty stupid ... none of them are wearing helmets! Not one! Don't they have any idea of the safety precautions they need to—"
A low, sorrowful rumble emanated quietly.
<We know you're sad, Skipper,> the first voice snapped tersely. <I'm not happy with that uppity little noob, either. Damn her and her snobbish nose. But if Paris hadn't just split without even considering the rest of us—>
Another grumbling bugle cut her off.
<Stop that! They'll hear us, dammit, and then we're screwed! Look, we're going to try and find her, okay? Right after Fystor tells us what's going on. Fystor ... damn, was that really her? She didn't seem like a goddess to me.>
"She wasn't going to just stroll into Cerulean in full celestial feathery glory," the human pointed out dryly.
<Yeah, but still, shouldn't she have been giving off flares of power or something? She should be leaking some sort of crazy goddish stuff because she just can't contain all that power she's supposed to have. It happens in all the movies, remember that one where the bad guy was going up to the Regigigas, and every time he took a step he swayed more and more to the side until he looked like a complete retard, and then he went into that "yur da shorsh of my inner vishun" speech that your dad used to quote? I mean, seriously.>
"In my experience, leakage is a sign of inadequacy rather than capacity."
A brief moment of silence, in which one might get the distinct impression that somebody was shooting somebody else a confused glare.
"They said that on TV somewhere."
<Oh, okay. I thought you were going all fortune cookie on me for a sec. Well, I guess that makes sense ... but still, she's a god. Stuff should happen. Trumpets blaring every time she opens her mouth and et cetera.>
"That's probably just a metaphor. It'd get really annoying after a few minutes, anyway. Okay, enough of that. Look at the Rockets. They're all pretty much in the same general area, so we can disrupt them easily with a triple Stealth Rock. That's probably overkill, but that Cobalt might have a trick or two up his sleeve."
Somebody sighed. <Think again, Obi-Wan. We're the only two who know that move.>
<Yeah!> chirruped a third Pokemon voice, which carried a faint metallic echo. <Onwy me and Anni can do Steawth Wock! Skippoh can't. Siwwy Woawk, don't you wememboh tat?>
"Of course I do," the other replied, unfazed. "But that was when he was a Mudkip. As a Swampert, his new ground type gives him more potential to manipulate stones and minerals. So ..." The voice paused, momentarily replaced by a slight rustling. "This is for you, Skipper. I still carry a bunch of these, they're technically mine anyway. I didn't think you'd be able to learn it, obviously—" He sighed a bit sadly. "But since you can, it's better that you do."
<It's not worth it,> the deep voice mumbled. <She's gone.>
<News flash, dude: we know. Skipper, learn the damn move. We're going to find her, okay? The sooner we get all this over with, the sooner we'll get her back. We've said it, like, eight freaking times now.>
"Here, Skipper." A moment passed, in which a bright flash illuminated the undersides of the bush's leaves; a faint sound of clattering rocks whispered across the air, like an echo. Then, in an anticlimactic suddenness, both faded. "You see how to do it?"
<Sort of ...> A bit of confusion crept into the voice's melancholy tone. <It makes sense, I guess. But I don't know if I can really aim like Anni can. It might be too much to even try to use it the first time.>
"I wouldn't expect more than that; it's a tricky move at the best of times. We can work on improving aim later on, but for now, I'm just counting on you to hit them with it close up. Until then, Anni and Emily can blast them with it while you terrify them even more with a Take Down, okay?"
An indecipherable mumble.
<He'll get into it when we actually start beating them up,> the snappish feminine voice said. <Hopefully. Come on, get your chin up, Skipper. Let's kick those Rockets' asses into orbit!>
"Er, Emily, we don't talk like that." The voice's owner seemed embarassed.
<But Anni said it,> the other pouted.
<Then I suppose that means you really shouldn't say it,> the deep voice commented sardonically.
There was a moist slap. <See, I told you guys he'd come around.>
<Sure, but did you have to hit my head? Ow ...>
<It was a friendly hit, Skip. A sibling-greeting kind of thing, or a "let's kick some ***" hit, y'know?>
<Woawk, Anni said *** again! How come she can say wowds tat I can't?>
A sigh. "Anni—"
<Sor-ry. Now shut up and get ready, right? Crouch down like that, yeah. And try to corner those damn grunts, okay? It'll make it easier for us to kick their—>
"Anni."
<... rears. Killjoy.>
"Thank you. Okay, guys, leap at them when I say 'three', got it? It'll be more effective if we give them as big a shock as possible. Skipper, if your scar starts acting up again, don't strain yourself. Use long-range moves instead. Now ..."
Silence. A bird twittered cheerfully somewhere out of sight.
"One," the voice hissed quietly. "Two ..."
In the Rocket camp, a grunt yawned lazily.
"Three."
* * *
His blood froze with the shock. She's here! he screamed silently, sitting petrified in her sharp hazel gaze like a deer in the headlights. A few other Coordinators, aware of her fame, gawked up at her in admiration, but her eyes were for the hapless victim gaping before her.
"Well?" she asked waspishly.
"Ungh ..." Lightning groaned stupidly. The strain of keeping his eyes on her burning stare proved too much for him, as demonstrated when he fell backwards in his chair in a dead faint.
Peach glared at Kaleri as the girl rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease. He can't even listen to me without acting like a loser." Tossing her long blond hair in the air, she stalked over to the threshold of the dark corridor, tapping lethal-looking fingernails against the wall in impatience.
A slight movement diverted the Pichu's attention. Glancing down, she frowned, then turned her head left and right in confusion, wondering just what she had seen. Then the boring thing staring up at her shifted again, and she realized with a start that an Ayell was sitting not two feet in front of her, looking completely unimpressed. The sunny-yellow bandanna tied neatly around his neck looked like a burst of sun against his cloudy drabness.
<What's with you, shorty?> she snapped, in spite of the fact that they were roughly the same height. <Trailing your minx of a trainer while she harrasses my poor sweet Lightning.> She patted the boy's ear. <You're so uninteresting, anyway. Why are you even here if it's so obvious you're going to lose?>
Shadowson blinked silently.
<Talk, you idiot! Apologize for your trainer's mean behavior, or something!> She scowled at him darkly, red cheeks sparkling with yellow electricity. <What, cat got your tongue, you ... you cat? Can't you talk at all?>
<I would talk,> Shadowson replied evenly, <if you'd let me get a word in edgewise.>
Peach blinked in astonishment. She'd expected his voice (given he had one) would be as dull and unremarkable as his appearance; as it was, his androgynous tone, only slightly tainted with masculinity, surprised her almost as much as a bugling baritone would have.
<Well,> she said, recovering from her shock after a second, <okay, then. If you don't have the guts to speak up — don't you roll your eyes at me! Hey, where're you going, I'm not through with you yet!>
"Welcome, one and all!" a cheerful voice burst suddenly from the speaker. Sighing in exasperation, Peach turned back to Lightning, grabbed his face, and shook him a bit roughly, causing the boy to inhale sharply and mutter something as his eyes fluttered open.
On the screen, the commercials had vanished to make way for a presumably live view of the stage, panning in and out to give the now-watchful Coordinators a good look at what they were about to compete in. The floor shone a vivid neon pink, contrasting sharply with the large pool of water sitting in its center. As the camera turned, Lightning noted through slightly unfocused eyes that there seemed to be a table situated at one end, where three figures sat in darkness; the table itself lay under the huge scoreboard which, currently, was displaying the large words "WELCUMM TU TEH CONNTEZT!!!!!", which tipped him off immediately that one of the Waterflowers had written it.
"My, we have a great turnout today!" With a flash of her blond hair, Daisy strode out onto the stage, gripping a microphone and beaming. A scattering of rather unenthusiastic applause clattered across the audience, which was cast in deep shadow from the strong lights sweeping the stage. "Everyone is so excited and happy! Before we begin, I'd like to introduce our judges!"
Less-than-heartfelt clapping.
"Today, we have our usual lovely Violet Waterflower!" Daisy exclaimed, as the figures at the table were slowly illuminated in light; the curvy one on the left waved happily in response. "As well as, of course, our own Nurse Joy! And finally, we have a very special guest judge who was kind enough to sit in for us today! Give a big hand for the legend seeker himself, Eusine DeNorte!"
Lightning had only gotten a glimpse of the haughty-looking person in the far right seat before he squeezed his eyes shut again in pain: a glass-splitting fangirl scream grated from the loudspeaker.
<That'll be Leaf,> Peach commented, rolling her eyes.
"Ow!" Lightning winced, clutching his head. "Why do girls always do these things?"
The answer would remain a mystery to him forever. Girls are funny creatures that way.
Peach was right. The agonizing squeal of delight was pouring from Leaf's wide-open mouth, which matched her intently gazing eyes. She didn't seem to realize that everyone within twenty yards was staring at her.
"This isn't just embarrassing," Fystor muttered, sinking lower into her seat. "It's ludicrous."
"Bahhhhhhht ..." Leaf tried to inhale and speak at the same time, which wasn't nearly as nice-sounding as she would have liked. "But look! It's him! It's really him!" She stared shamelessly down at the young man, utterly starstruck.
The bird-woman yawned. "Please. That is nothing. Vember's father, now, there was a good-looking beast."
Rather than listen to the bored legendary, the girl practically drooled at the sight of the guest judge. Though several yards away from their front-row seats, his tall, lean form seemed to draw the eye. Garbed in a brilliant purple suit that could have given Ocean's pants a run for their money, Eusine seemed to radiate a mysterious, intriguing aura that everyone seemed to feel aside from Fystor, whose opinion was really the last word on the subject, though in defense of the celebrity, no one would admit it. The young man's watchful sapphire eyes narrowed, fixed on a door opposite the table. Beneath them, thin white-gloved fingers steepled almost plottingly in front of his handsome, sharp-featured face; above, a carefully-groomed mop of rich chestnut hair was arranged into a rather unique hairstyle, due to the feature known to city girls as "a sexy banger" and to the more rural teenage population as "a damn huge cowlick" (although these terms can be considered the same thing even outside of hairstyling, depending on who you ask).
"Currently here in town for filming his latest episode of Suicune Safari!" Daisy chirruped cheerfully on. She turned to him, beaming. "Is it true that Suicune has been rumored to be seen recently on Cerulean Cape, Eusine?"
His eyes snapped toward her in the briefest of glances. "It's true that there are rumors," he replied in an icy, bored tone, staring at the door again. "In spite of my hopes that they are verifiable, however, I have some doubt that it would truly appear here."
"Exactly!" Daisy agreed, although what she was agreeing to was a complete mystery. "Maybe you'll finally find it!"
Fystor shifted uncomfortably in her seat beside Leaf. "Somebody overdosed on stupid pills this morning."
"And now ..." Daisy had to raise her voice as the sound of a drumroll pounded from nowhere in particular. "Without further ado, let's welcome our first Coordinator as we begin our appeal round! Everybody give it up for Avery and Drifloon!"
Clapping rippled again through the audience as a lanky lavender-haired teenager stepped from behind the door, waving coolly at the audience. Above the panel of judges, the screen flickered to a square displaying Avery's face, as well as a timer displaying bright red numbers, indicating that a maximum of two minutes would be granted him in his appeal. As he reached for a peculiar-looking Poke Ball on its belt — brilliant blue and white, with twin red stripes adorning its top half — the timer's number immediately shifted to 1:59, counting down his time.
"Come on out!" he yelled, tossing the ball into the air. "Start this off with a Gust!"
For a moment, Leaf was sure that the shape materializing from the open ball was a joke. Surely nobody would enter a balloon for the Contest, even if it was such a nice shade of deep purple. But the puffy white cloud-shaped fluff sitting on its head didn't seem like something a normal balloon would have ... and she blinked as she realized that it was rapidly whipping around the two long strings dangling from its body, forming a chilly breeze that slowly accelerated to a softly moaning wind.
"Great! Now Constrict yourself, following up with a Minimize!"
Extending its string-like arms to either side, Drifloon abruptly turned in a swift, continuous circle, spinning quickly around, faster, faster ... so fast that the brilliant yellow cross underneath its beady black eyes could be seen only as a blur, and its string cut into its bouncy-looking body, creating an eerie squeal that made everyone's hair stand on end. Leaf squinted — in the rush of wind and motion, it seemed to actually be shrinking, though of course that was only an illusion ...
Then she blinked.
"Where'd it go?" she asked confusedly, glancing around in a bit of worry as the wind died back down to a cool, gentle breeze. Around her, others also muttered in speculation. Fystor only smirked.
"And finish it up with full-power Astonish!"
"FLOOOOOOOOOOON!"
Everybody jumped at the sound of the high-pitched wail and the sudden appearance of the small balloon Pokemon, who seemed to tower over them a hundred feet tall as the air leapt into a pounding, ominous gale. Across from Leaf, a little girl's teeth could be heard chattering.
"And that's a wrap!" Avery called out triumphantly, smiling at his Drifloon as it shimmered, then solidified once more in its normal size. Recalling it, he waved at the applauding crowd as he made his way back toward the door; the clapping gradually made itself heard over the wind, which, without a Pokemon to keep it going, died down again quickly enough.
"Give him a hand again, folks! What a frightfully fun appeal!" Daisy squealed happily, though she was attempting nervously to fix her blond hair, which seemed to have stood up on end. She glanced from the Coordinator's vanishing back to the panel of judges, who were hastily scribbling notes on the clipboards in front of them. "And for our next appeal—"
Lightning bit his nails. The first appeal, which had been displayed on the screen in the waiting room, did nothing to stem his anxiety. The small rectangular box in the lower corner of the screen wasn't a big help, either — displaying the randomized order of appeal rounds to go, he'd spotted his own name situated at the end of the list. The very end. It was probably some sort of sign.
"Yeah, dude!" a stout male Coordinator cheered, high-fiving Avery as the relieved-looking teenager stepped through the door again. "That was so fricking awesome! And the balloon was so fricking scary, dude! It was, like, the fricking creepiest and awesomest balloon I ever saw in my whole fricking life!"
"Drifloon," Avery corrected through a fixed grin, as "Madalyn Lashinski and Poochyena" were called out for the next appeal. "It's a Drifloon."
"Yeah, it's a fricking scary balloon, right?"
"Hardly." Kaleri's scoff made them glance, curious, in the direction of her slender frame, garbed by her short, stylish sky-blue dress. "I've seen more blood-chilling appeals from a Cleffa. And you so ruined it by shouting the commands like that."
Trying his best to ignore her superior tone and the sick feeling it brought to his gut, Lightning forced himself to focus instead on the screen, where the young female Coordinator tossed a Poke Ball with a trembling hand, unleashing a gray puppy Pokemon with black splashed across its face and paws. Above the judges, the screen once again ticked silently down from the two-minute mark.
Avery shrugged. "Nobody's perfect."
"I beg to differ." She snapped her fingers; immediately Shadowson leapt onto the back of a nearby chair, and she stroked his unremarkable head almost lazily. The Ayell, in spite of the caress, did not change his blank expression in the slightest. "Some people are made great, and some are born great. And the born are better than the made."
Some have it thrust upon them, too, Lightning found himself thinking, watching the Poochyena on the screen kick up a cloud of dust that made Madalyn squeal and Violet curl her lip slightly. She thinks I'm not worth much ... I wonder what'd happen if she knew Fystor had something big in store for me and Leaf? Knowing Kaleri, though ... she'd probably just say it was a nuke.
"Possibly," Avery relented. "But they say you were self-made."
"Shut up and shove your jealousy back down your throat while you're at it." Kaleri's tone was still calm and self-satisfied, though her fingernails dug slightly into her Ayell's skull, causing him to wince ever so slightly. "The best Coordinators draw the best Pokemon to them. Ergo, I'm the Grand Festival Winner, and you're not. So please don't even bother to think about getting the ribbon."
"I never said I was here for the ribbon," he muttered, turning away. Kaleri yawned, peering at the screen as she ignored his retreat.
"Er ... that was wonderful, Madalyn!" Daisy's half-hearted commentary echoed the disgruntled looks on the judges, whose pencil strokes were abrupt and terse on their clipboards. "Next up, Polly Prudabega and Numel! Give a hand—"
"I'm hopeless," Madalyn wailed, slouching past the next Coordinator as the even younger girl swept outside. "Poochy couldn't do anything, I'm such a failure, I hate life ..."
Peach visibly cringed at the knowledge that somebody could actually be so banal as to nickname their Poochyena "Poochy".
"It could be worse," Avery assured her, nodding toward the screen, where Polly Prudabega could be seen running around in circles. A yellow, stupid-looking quadrupedal Pokemon was chasing her, lumbering due to the large green hump on its back and snorting flames at her every few seconds.
Madalyn nodded vaguely, still looking worried.
I really, really hope I don't look that noobish, Lightning prayed, cringing as the hem of the little girl's dress caught fire. Please, Arceus, please ... or Fystor, I guess, she's closer ... please, please, please don't let me look stupid. I didn't escape home just to hit a brick wall ...
A large, spiky orange crab clicked its huge claw rapidly, sending streams of bubbles shooting through the air and refracting the light ...
A black, slug-like thing leapt out of the pool, scattering water in shining drops as a rumbling cloud of moisture condensed overhead ...
A bluish mess of spaghetti vines trotted around on shoelike feet, its vines whipping around and sending powder sparkling in the air ...
"How many more?" Leaf mumbled, banging her head against the short wall separating her from the stage.
"Three," Fystor replied a bit distractedly. Glancing at the bird-woman, the trainer noticed her texting on her sleek phone, her silvery eyes narrowed at whatever message she had received. "Kaleri's up next," she added, snapping the phone shut as Leaf tried to steal a glimpse. "After this fiasco with the Bidoof, I'll be glad to watch it."
Leaf huffed. "These are getting so boring!"
"I could always provide a bit of entertainment," the Pokedex piped up; its place of residence, the notorious yellow handbag, sat at Leaf's feet, far from the sight of the various appeals. "Just point me at the sparkly buggers, and we'll all be happy."
"You're the only thing that could make this situation worse, Pokedex."
"Actually, I think a river of lava would make it worse."
"Thank you, Ernie," Daisy stammered nervously into the microphone, hastily ushering a stout, overly-gleeful boy off the stage; his Pokemon, an equally stout beaver, trotted after him, looking extremely proud of itself in spite of having a stick of ice shoved up an undesirable part of its body. "And now, hailing all the way from Lilycove City, the Queen of Contests herself! Preeeeeesenting ... Kaleri Kutter and Safegirl!"
A roar of cheering exploded in the auditorium as Kaleri herself emerged from the door, waving a peculiar two-fingered wave and wearing a slight smirk. Tossing a Poke Ball into the air, she said not a word, a shocking contrast to her predecessors.
A thin form emerged from the Poke Ball — before the timer had even begun to count down, Safegirl balanced herself on one toe and began to twirl slowly, gracefully, like a ballerina in a tinkling music box. Small bits of light appeared in the air, shimmering, transforming before the suddenly silent audience's gaze into soft-looking glowing leaves, which drifted downward from above, although their exact points of origin were unclear, and they mysteriously vanished into thin air just before they could land gently on the floor. Within the thick frames of her glasses, the Kirlia's red eyes began to glow a soft, subtle purple, which soon changed to a shocking blue-white, then a shade of deep blue — in a rush of gentle color, the blue enveloped her entire body, seeming to carry it upward slowly, gently, as it continued to spin.
"Sophistication at last," Fystor murmured.
Hovering several feet above the ground, Safegirl gazed at the audience through the incessantly falling leaves as she turned, her eyes (once again their normal red) growing wide and gentle, almost pleading — "Awww!" breathed the onlookers in unison, transfixed — before softly humming a throaty, melodic tune. The wordless music soon blossomed into a piping chant, a chant whose lyrics were utterly indecipherable to the human ear, though something about the way the arcane syllables rolled off her tongue made a collective sigh of bliss ripple through the watchers. The tension seemed to evaporate like dew, even as the chant hit progressively pitches in a eerily celestial crescendo. She lifted her delicate arms — the music was almost tangible in the air — and several blue-white comets arced blindingly from the domed ceiling, falling strangely slowly as they threw the upturned faces and their expressions of awe into sharp relief. The balls of brilliant light then exploded silently, though only luminous radiance was thrown about the spacious room, filling everyone's vision with a shining glow ... her voice reached its triumphant peak ...
Everyone blinked in the abrupt quiet. Safegirl stood poised on the floor, the last leaves bursting around her in soft flares of light.
In a sudden reversal of volume, the stands shook with stomping feet as screams of approval reverbrated off the walls. Still smiling (and rather surprised that she was actually smiling while watching a Contest), Leaf immediately knew that the appeal hadn't just impressed the audience: Violet and Nurse Joy rose simultaneously in a standing ovation, beaming. Even Eusine seemed to be nodding slightly, although that might have been a trick of the light.
"Gorgeous!!" Daisy cheered, the multiple exclamation points seeping into her tone as the excitment broke down her self-control. She looked as though she wanted to hug Kaleri, who had returned Safegirl to her ball without a word and waved at her admirers before vanishing through the door again. "Absolutely stunning!!! If that appeal doesn't make it to the battle round, there's obviously something wrong with our judges!!!!"
If Eusine had been nodding before this remark, he definitely wasn't now.
"Next we have ... er ..." Composing herself, she took a look at the list of names in her hand. "Um. 'Shorts Man'? What kind of name is that? Oh well. Give it up for 'Shorts Man' and Jabba, everybody!"
He couldn't move. The horror had numbed his limbs so completely that his hands couldn't even shake with worry. Not only had Kaleri pulled off an absolutely gorgeous appeal — it'd score a twenty-eight at the very least, undoubtedly — but somebody else was taking her place on the stage, appropriately and deceptively childish in his morbidly oversized shorts.
Someone who he'd hoped he'd never see again.
<Oh, geez,> Peach groaned from her position on his shoulder. <Not him again. That idiot almost murdered you with his stupidity.>
"Sand-Attack, Gust, and Quick Attack upward!" the crazy shorts kid yelled, tossing a Poke Ball. The brown-and-cream-colored Pokemon that emerged squawked nervously as it beat its wings, sending a cloud of dust into the air that sullied the breeze newly born from flapping feathers. With the dirty ring circling it like a tornado, the Pidgey took off high into the air, dispersing the air into an ominous-looking smog that slowly settled to the floor; in the meantime, Jabba zigzagged back and forth, aiming lower and lower with each sharp turn, until he had finally reached the floor again with a frantic flutter and a loud caw.
It was a mark of how good Kaleri was that the applause beat out a half-hearted rhythm: everyone's minds dwelled on her Kirlia's bursts of beautiful light. At the panel of judges, Nurse Joy leaned over to murmur something into Violet's ear.
"Ah ... thank you for that." Daisy brushed off the dust that had settled on her overly fancy dress as the kid flounced toward the door, Jabba following with a series of awkward hops. "And last but not least, a rising Coordinator shining like a shooting star—"
Stop it, he moaned silently, feeling the last drops of blood drain from his face. Don't say that. Don't.
"—Lightning and Peter!"
<Good luck,> Peach whispered, jumping off his shoulder as he stood up stiffly. Shaking off a slight shiver, he mechanically marched toward the door, through which the kid had just reentered the room; by some miracle, the weirdo hadn't caught a glimpse of the anxious blonde, as his crazy eyes were instead fondly caressing the front of his own shorts. He felt the others' eyes burn after him, and with every ounce of will forced himself not to look at Kaleri.
For a moment, it seemed as though he had randomly died and gone to heaven, so bright were the lights that assaulted his eyes. But the clapping pounding his ears from above jerked him back to reality. In the blinding light he nearly tripped, only just barely righting himself. Squinting, he could just see the silhouettes of the watchful judges, and the sudden thought crossed his mind that perhaps he wasn't the only one blinded by the light. Just do it, he told himself, in a valiant attempt at self-assurance. Like we practiced. Show them what we can do.
"Let's do this, Peter!" he called, tossing the ball in his hand to unleash his Butterfree. "Hound Dog, pattern seven!"
As the butterfly fluttered by his trainer, a confused muttering was heard around him — there was no such move as "Hound Dog", at least not in any G-rated setting — but the whispers died down as Peter rapidly shot several sticky strings from his mouth, grabbing them and whipping them into a strange pattern with stubby hands as they emerged, glistening. Only a few seconds had passed before he held out his arms, triumphant, holding out a strange sort of cat's cradle for all to see. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a collective sound of curiosity emanated from the watchers as they leaned closer in fascination: the strings, already hardening, gleamed with a faint, purplish glow, humming gently.
<Dis is where da soul comes in!> Peter flapped his wings once, sending him floating upwards a few feet and simultaneously releasing twin puffs of indigo powder. At that exact moment — the crowd gasped — brilliant flares of purple, together with an electric-sounding musical chord, blared from the strings in his hands. The Butterfree paused briefly, smirking at their attentive faces. <Like dis, y'all?> he asked reduntantly. <Keep your eyes on da 'Free, den, 'cause today da 'Free is da King of Rock!>
Then, in a blast of music and color, the song took flight.
No one could mistake the tune yowling soulfully from the eerie collection of purple-pulsing strings, an electric guitar orchestra in the hands of a fluttering bug, whose every flap of the wings — beating in time to the rhythm of the blues — ushered forth a different pattern of hazy color: indigo, green and violet mixing and matching in a motley yet artistic collection of misty stars, smoky spheres, wisps of smog curling in an intricately jerky dance. Though the numerous notes buzzing from the strings were utterly devoid of any human voice, the words of the music could be heard underneath the clever tangle of sound, as members of the audience found the song's catchiness too difficult to struggle against:
You ain't nothin' but a hound dog ... cryin' all the time ...
You ain't nothin' but a hound dog ... cryin' all the time ...
Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine!
A final burst of color brought another collective gasp from the crowd, as Peter stretched the strings tightly, tightly, drawing out the final chord in a drawn-out, yet oddly satisfying wail. Fluttering back to the floor, he was almost blown away by the cheering ricocheting off the walls, mixing with the song's final, defiant echoes. Somewhere in the stands came a disappointed sigh: the music had ended far too quickly for anyone's liking. Yet the time limit made the cut-off tune necessary, as the timer above the panel of judges flicked quickly to zero.
"You did it!" Lightning squealed. It took all his willpower to restrain himself from hugging the bug: the crowd was still watching and, in any case, the residual powders on Peter's dusty-coated wings would do more harm than good to a human.
"Brilliant!!" Daisy's excited voice could be heard booming through the microphone. "That was utterly stunning!! That just might have been the best newbie appeal I've ever seen in my entire awesome life!!!"
Half dazed, the boy turned and started back toward the door on legs whose blood seemed to have been turned to Jello. Catching sight of Leaf and Fystor in the stand, he waved to them, and Leaf returned the gesture, beaming radiantly in comparison to Fystor's usual shadowy smirk.
"Good show!"
A wave of excited chatter rushed over him as he reentered the fold of his fellow Coordinators, rushing toward him in excitement in their half-blind attempts at congratulations. Hands ruffled his hair, thumped him on the back, seized his own with a firm shake. Nodding and smiling discriminatorily, he eventually managed to reach his seat again, collapsing with exhaustion; surprisingly, the pressure had taken a lot out of him. It's over, he realized, as if it were some startling revelation. The worst bit's over. Waiting is so much worse than actually doing it ... He slumped backward, so relieved that he barely cared if he'd done well. The point was that he'd done it, after all.
"Piiiiiiiiiiiii!"
"OOF!" he grunted, as the small yellow mouse collided leapt onto his chest in a flying tackle. "Peach, did you see me? I actually managed to get in a decent appeal!"
<Decent nothing!> Peach crooned, nuzzling his face happily. <It was magnificent ... almost as magnificent as you—>
"That concludes our appeal rounds!" Eyes turned back to the screen, where Daisy seemed to be posing ridiculously. "And now, the scores from our judges. Let's see what they thought of your wonderful appeals! Starting from the beginning, here's how Avery and Drifloon did!"
Above the panel of judges, the screen flickered, shifting to a long rectangle occupying its top half, playing and replaying a few seconds of short, silent footage of Avery's appeal. The bottom half consisted of three dark squares, one hanging over each judge's head ominously like a hulking, beady-eyed Murkrow.
"Well," Violet began, tossing her blue hair as if she were Kaleri, "it was really scary, which is bad. But it's also good, duh. You ruined the surprise a bit by calling out what it was going to do, though. And there were no sparkles. Sparkles make everything better—"
"Except vampires!" a random onlooker wisecracked. Other members of the audience cheered in approval of the statement.
"Especially vampires!" she retorted, looking thoroughly put out. "Because if somebody's going to eat you alive, he might as well be really, really sexy! Now anyway, the stuff I mentioned is bad, but it was really creative, which was good, so your appeal was ... both bad and good," she said awkwardly, making everyone else sweatrop. "So ..."
She pushed a few buttons on a tiny control panel on the table in front of her; as she did, the number 6.3 appeared in the square above her head. At the sight of it, the crowd clapped politely.
"I thought," Joy said, speaking up over the relatively quiet noise, "that ordering Drifloon to hurt itself with Constrict wasn't the best way to do the appeal. A Pokemon must be in top condition to pull off a truly first-class appeal! On the other hand, it pulled off a nicely convincing atmosphere, which is always important if you want the audience to really feel the performance." Her two cents thrown in, the Nurse leaned back in her chair as a bright yellow 7.8 flickered into existence next to Violet's score. The audience cheered again: clearly this roughly reflected its own feelings.
"Nice one, dude!" somebody cheered, cuffing Avery's shoulder cheerfully. The teen smiled faintly, but said nothing.
"I am utterly astounded—" a voice cut smoothly in, causing everyone's eyes to snap automatically to the third judge, whose eyes were closed in a sort of semi-patient contemplation. Avery's face lit up in anticipation, only to collapse into dejection as Eusine went on: "—that you had the stupidity to make such an awful choice for appeal. I don't pretend to be an expert in these events, but even the casual League fan could tell you that a Drifloon will not learn ... desirable moves ... until it has reached a high enough level. It would have been far better if you'd decided to use in in the battle round instead, to better accommodate its natural abilities. So unfortunately for you, I wasn't impressed. However, the fact that you managed to pull off an original appeal with such a limited moveset saved you from scraping the bottom of the barrel ..."
A 4.8 rounded off the trio of numbers. Above them, the video clip switched to a large number announcing total score of 18.9.
"Not bad!" a Coordinator assured him over the sound of the audience grating from the speaker. "Out of thirty, you know? And was this your first time? Because if it was, it was really pretty good ..."
Avery nodded silently, his face carefully concealing whatever thoughts skittered about in his mind. Something seemed to shrivel in Lightning's gut. Avery's appeal had been one of the better ones ... if the judges were going to be that harsh to everyone, his chances of landing in the coveted top eight had just shrunk to Slowpoke-brain size. A new video clip on the screen popped up, displaying a brief recap of Madalyn's appeal, but he didn't think he could watch.
<It'll be okay,> Peach tried to assure him. He didn't hear her, of course, and her pointed ears drooped sadly. With a sigh, she snuggled against him comfortingly, trying to convey all the things she couldn't say.
They never could say, later, how time seemed to flow in that fifteen-minute period of waiting. At times the lengthy commentaries stretched on for an eternity, transforming the room filled with Coordinators into some sort of mortal purgatory. But his heartbeats felt heavy with apprehension, and he was only conscious of a few before his own recap appeared onscreen. Sucking in the breath through his teeth, he sat up slightly, listening, gripping the edges of his chair.
"... perfect show," Violet was saying, as brilliant powders flashed above her. "Gorgeous. Pretty colors, pretty Pokemon, pretty Coordinator, pretty moves, pretty music. The only thing that was missing was vampires—" (Somebody in the audience booed, triggering a peal of laughter.) "Hey, shut up! But I guess it would've been just a teensy bit hard to put vampires into that."
Above her head flashed a 8.5. Peach glared at the beaming blunette woman onscreen, hands curling into fists. <She took off a point and a half because she wanted vampires?> she snapped incredulously. <He's not going to rearrange his entire appeal just to fit in vampires! Who does she think he is? He's Lightning, for crying out loud!>
"While I don't agree with the vampire love, I'm otherwise as thrilled as Violet about the appeal," Joy gushed. "Entrancing, lovely, well-planned. That is how a professional appeal looks." The 9.4 appearing above her head echoed her praise.
Peach smirked. <That's more like it.>
Lightning could only stare. They couldn't really be talking about him, could they? Dazed, he watched Eusine blink apathetically over his steepled fingers. "It's always best to play to your Pokemon's strengths," the young man remarked finally. "As I said to Avery, it's difficult to do anything, Contests or battles, with a limited movepool, yet like him you managed to pull it off. Creativity with function ... few novices have a talent for that. The song didn't exactly go with the Pokemon itself, however. Looking at a Butterfree, people would expect some tune that fits its appearance — something light and airy, in most circumstances. The performance reflects the performer. Remember that, and you'll get a higher score next time."
A number appeared on the screen: 7.1. A second later, the triumphant total flashed across Lightning's glazed eyes. He stared as if in shock.
"Twenty-five?" somebody roared over the wave of deafening cheers. "Twenty-five? I haven't got a snowball's chance in hell now! Lucky son of a biscuit, why can't I be you ..."
"And now for the results!" Daisy sang out, gesturing at the screen as it switched to a list of names and scores, assorted in descending order. Kaleri, of course, had snatched the top position with an astounding 29.6. On their own accord, Lightning's eyes found themselves almost magnetically attracted to his own name, sitting next to a bold number three.
"Third place?" he asked redundantly. "Third? I ... I made it! Yes!" Shouting out in ecstasy, he leapt up from his chair, spinning around his Pichu in his arms. Shouting out in ecstasy, he leapt up from his chair, spinning around his Pichu in his arms. For some reason, music had started to play in his head.
Here comes the sun,
Here comes the sun, and I say …
"We've done it, Peach! We're moving on to the battling!"
It’s all right …
Peach didn't respond; the rush of excitement from the scores and from Lightning's hug was making her giddy.
"Congratulations to our top eight!" the blond Waterflower exclaimed over the noise of the audience. "Kaleri, Beau, Lightning, Bridget, Avery, Madalyn, Kinkira, and ... Shorts Man ... will all be participating in the next round! Give a big hand to everyone, folks, but especially to our winners, because they won, obviously! And now, for a fifteen-minute break ..."
Last edited by SugarPesticide; 23rd May 2010 at 12:26 AM.
CRASH! The sudden noise rent the air like an explosion.
Nearly dropping the pickaxe on his toe in surprise, Cobalt swore loudly, swiveling around to see grunts tearing off like headless chickens, although they made a good deal more sound than said birds. Two short gray dinosaur-like things had torn out of a large bush, as huge boulders abruptly burst from the ground before them, leaping at the terrified Rockets with a creepily unnatural gusto, because rocks, as almost everyone knows, aren't supposed to jump. Automatically he flew toward the bag containing the loot; it was, after all, the second most important thing there, aside from himself. What the hell? And at my moment of glory, too!
<Cowabunga twisternoodles!> Phlash darted out of nowhere and leapt at the taller dinosaur, who only snorted impatiently and smashed her hard with a rock-tough head. Chittering in surprise, the weasel flew a few feet before landing catlike on the ground, slightly more airy-looking than usual.
A roar made everyone jump: a hulking blue monster, fins sticking up in an intimidating manner, caused the earth to tremble and rocks to explode from the ground with every footfall. A random grunt who happened to be slightly braver than the others sent out a tiny rat Pokemon against the beast; this, however, only proved that he was also extremely stupid, as both grunt and rat were swatted aside like irritating flies.
Something moved in the corner of his eye. Spinning around again, he caught sight of the taller dinosaur scooping one of the piles of bones from next to him, ignoring him thoroughly. "Put that down, dammit!" he yelled, lunging down and grabbing the skeleton with his free hand. Surprised, the Cranidos yanked backwards in alarm, almost sending him tumbling forward; only with his usual awesome powers of balance (or so he told himself) did he manage to stay upright.
<Let go, thieving *******!> the Cranidos growled back, snapping her beaked mouth warningly. <This stuff wasn't meant for you!>
He only pulled harder, however. It was a comical sight: the Rocket admin, his wig askew, playing an angry game of tug-of-war with a revived monster of the past whose domed head barely rose above his waist. With much grunting and gritting of teeth, neither would give any ground.
But, of course, it couldn't last ...
BAM!
Gasping in pain, he found himself sprawled on the ground, his sack lying close by. He grabbed it hastily, then pushed himself into a sitting position, glancing around instinctually for the skeleton. Instead he saw the shorter dinosaur staring up at him, big blue eyes peering through the silvery steel mask obscuring her face. She tensed herself threateningly, and suddenly he realized that this tiny little thing, surely too little to hurt a fly, was running at him, driving her head against his body and knocking the wind out of it.
"OOF!"
<You'we an ebil tief!> the Aron yelled at him cutely, her voice ringing as his head, hitting the ground, spun dangerously. <You'we ebil and I don't wike you! And awso, you habe absowutewy no wespect fow natuwal wesouwces! I tink you desewve a wong, wong timeout wit no dessewt!>
Vaguely, the humiliating fact registered: a girl was beating him up. A baby girl.
<Hey!> a rabid voice yelled suddenly. <Leave Weird Hair Guy alone! He's the most awesome awesomeburger I ever hammed!> In a blur of pale yellow fur, Phlash's stick-thin body rushed at the Aron, whipping out her claws as she pounced.
Apparently, her scratching wasn't going to do much, as the little dinosaur blinked vaguely. <Someting's tickwing me,> she giggled.
<This isn't tickling!> Phlash retorted, trying and failing again to dig her claws into her foe's metallic back from her awkward position, cramped on top of the steel head. <This is Rocket Burger Attack! Also known as Save Weird Hair Guy From The Freaky And Short Dinosaur Midget Thingy! And I'm so good at it, too, because I have the power of french fries to guide me!>
<Cobalt!> a voice chirped: in a flurry of small gray-and-black wings, Rae landed on his head. <Guess what? The dinosaur with the spiky head took one of the skeletons! She's going, going ...> The bird tilted her comparatively huge head. <Gone. Oh wait, she's coming back. I think she's going to come and get the other one. Ooh, ouch, the Swampert just knocked Bulbasaur over. Wait, she's getting up! She's glaring at him! She's giving him a stinging—>
"Not the time for commentary, Rae!" Cobalt chastised, forcing himself into a standing position. Adjusting his wig, his gaze snapped toward the remaining fossil. In spite of his aching body, he leapt at the bones protectively, a sudden movement that unseated Rae as she twittered in midair, then shrilled a warning that came too late ...
A boulder burst through the ground beneath him as if the earth were only water, slamming him in the chest with paralyzing force. The impact sent him tumbling to the side, rolling around as a howl of pain tore itself from his throat. Slamming to a stop against the side of the mountain, he shook slightly, laying there for a moment as the sounds of terrified Rockets and roaring Swampert rang about the area. Clenching his teeth, he very gradually forced himself into a sitting position, leaning against rock as he gingerly felt his rapidly bruising torso. A fresh stab of agony brought an involuntary groan along with it: at least one of his ribs was broken. Damn that Cranidos, he thought finally, watching with tearing eyes as the blue-and-gray dinosaur scampered out of sight, bones overflowing in her stubby arms.
"Emily!" a teenager called, causing Cobalt to glance around, but Roark was nowhere in sight. "Skipper! We've got them!"
The Swampert brushed off Bulbasaur, who glared after him impassively; not even a scratch damaged her freckled skin. How she had managed that was a mystery, as the brute himself, bounding heavily in the direction of the unseen voice, looked no worse for the air. The Aron, meanwhile, shook off Phlash's attempts to eat her, sending the Phrygoil flying with a shake of her head and taking off after the hulking blue creature on her silvery stubs of legs.
Great. Cobalt rubbed his face. Just great. What else could go wr—?
A phone rang in his pocket. Wincing, he pulled it out, snapping it open.
"Ah, Mr. Cobalt."
I just had to ask, didn't I?
"Yes, Boss?" he asked tentatively, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.
"Fly back to Headquarters. There are things we must discuss."
Apprehension clawed his stomach. "When?"
"Now. Time isn't my biggest ally, I'm afraid, and I simply can't afford to waste time. After that fiasco over the Shadow-clone trade ... well, you can imagine. Our plans for the Kanto takeover will have to be stepped up, and the sooner the better, believe me."
"I'm not sure what that has to do with me, Boss," he said as carefully as he could. The last thing he wanted right now was to give the Boss a reason not to promote him, but Cobalt despised following orders blindly.
"You'll see soon enough. The incident with Severus's arrest ..." The voice sighed. "It's all going rather messily, I must admit. Now Cobalt, head for the Cerulean airport. My plane will be waiting there for you — or rather, for your true identity. Speed is of the essence; I can't afford to arrange transportation for more than one."
He cringed, but sourly decided not to argue. "I understand, Boss."
"If only you did. I'll expect to see you at eight sharp." A click signaled the end of the conversation.
Cobalt's sigh turned into a pained cough as he snapped his phone shut. Does he know? he wondered. That his psycho manslaughtering executive wouldn't be in jail if it wasn't for me? Not that I regret it ... the ******* had it coming. But if he holds me responsible ... And the Lapras. He expected me to steal a shiny Lapras, and now I don't even have time to snag a normal one. If he's in a bad mood ... The thought turned his blood to ice water. Then so much for promotion. Damn.
<Guess what?> Phlash exclaimed, as she and Bulbasaur scampered toward him. <I so beat that crazy hard metal shortfry! She just thought she wasn't getting hurt, but I know she was, because I was using the ancient ninja stuff handed down from the shoes of Ronald McDonald! So of course I was gonna win!>
<They're gone,> Rae reported, swooping down out of the sky and landing on his head. <I tried following them, but they'd already taken off. Sorry. Those fossil things weren't important, were they?>
He took a deep breath, forcing himself not to snap. They wouldn't know about these things, he reminded himself. It's not their fault. Don't yell at them for acting stupid. It's that idiot four-eyes again. To think I actually respected him for helping catch Severus ... well, it's not the first time I've been wrong about people. Damn miners and their obsession for ... well, for whatever miners do.
"Change of plans, guys," Cobalt informed them, ignoring Rae's question. "We're heading back to Rocket Headquarters. The B—"
<They don't have Taco Time, do they?> Phlash's lip curled at the thought. <I really don't wanna run into any of those cactus-worshipping half-buns. They have creepy needle powers, or at least that's what my dead aunt Phlossie told me.>
"I really don't care one way or another," he replied bluntly. His eyes roved over to the sparkling city in the distance, beyond the dazed grunts scattered about, shivering in the trees or groaning on the dirt. He'd wanted something more important to do when the Boss had given him this assignment. Well, it'd run into an internally collapsing mountain. Things didn't get more important than that. But now, with fate taking him out of this situation, catupulting him to some as-of-yet undefined destiny ...
Good luck, kid, he thought, remembering the noobish girl he'd been tracking over the last week. With your track record with danger, somehow I think you'll need it.
* * *
Fur standing up in the excitement, Peach leapt hastily out of the way, crackling with static as she narrowly dodged the purple-green beam of energy. On the screen, Avery's points dropped even further, leaving a yet smaller fraction of yellow in his circle. Frowning, the teenager opened his mouth to give his Pokemon another command, but with a savage war cry — if "savage" here meant "a cutesy yet dangerous squeak warning anyone who tried to beat precious Lightning to watch out" — the Pichu sent another shock of electricity at the bumpy blue mirror, whose eyes crossed as it hit the floor with a clatter.
"Bronzor has fainted!" Daisy squealed over the noise of the audience. "Peach has won this round and will move on the the final battle!"
"Great job, Bronzor! And you too, Lightning," Avery congratulated, stepping over and shaking the blonde's hand as he recalled his fainted Pokemon. "Are you sure you haven't been a Coordinator for long? Because you are doing really well ..."
"Thanks." Lightning beamed confidently; the adrenaline had purified his fear-soiled mind as if it were a cleansing by fire. "I've been getting in a lot of practice, and that's been a big help. Have you been doing Contests for long?"
The other glanced slyly to the side. "Not exactly ..."
"And, now, it's our FINAL BATTLE!" Daisy yelled into the microphone, making everyone cringe. Avery, knowing he had no place on the stage anymore, shrugged apologetically as he headed back for the door. "The CERULEAN RIBBON ... a MARVELOUS thing. Competing against Lightning for this MARVELOUS RIBBON is the one, the only, KALERIIIIIII KUTTER!"
The blonde huffed at the sight of his feared rival emerging from the room, as cheers floated down from the audience. "It's all or nothing," he told Peach, who nodded up at him knowingly. An image of Dory's shriveled, broken body flashed in his mind, and he shivered in apprehension. "We'll do this for her," he decided, a steely glint in his eye. "For Dory. Let's give her our all."
<I'm on it, sweetheart!> Peach lowered herself onto all four paws, gazing shrewdly as Kaleri took her place on the opposite side of the stage. Above the judges, who looked rather bored now that they no longer had anything to actually do, a timer set at five minutes flickered into existence over two full point circles, one underneath the name of each contending Coordinator.
This is it.
In a burst of light, Shadowson appeared before the tensed Pichu. Lightning wasn't surprised — here in Kanto, a Coordinator had to stick with a Pokemon throughout the entirety of the battling portion of a Contest, and he'd seen her bring the Ayell out in her own previous two battles. He had seen what Shadowson could do, however, and hoped Peach would remember to stay on her guard ...
"Aaaaaaand — begin!"
"Plot Shock!" Lightning yelled, at the exact moment that Kaleri ordered, "Double Team with a Quick Attack!"
Peach glanced up at her trainer for a brief moment before smirking, her eyes narrowing plottingly as yellow electricity sizzled forewarningly, sparks dancing on the tips of her hairs. Shadowson, on the other hand, seemed to shimmer for a moment, as if everyone were going cross-eyed; a second later there were, strangely, four of him, all wearing illusory sunny-yellow scarves, blinking passively and looking bored ... even as they lunged at the mouse with a sudden, blinding speed, white streams of air trailing behind them as they jumped in unison—
<Eat this!> Peach yelled, unleashing sudden flares of lightning that struck two of the clones, which flickered briefly for a moment. Only one clone survived alongside the real Ayell, but both slammed into Peach at the same moment, sending her reeling backward. On the scoreboard, a small portion of Lightning's points had been blacked out, owing to Peach's injury. Yet some of Kaleri's points had vanished as well — apparently, Ayell were so visually uninteresting that their very existence hampered their performance. Well, the Pokedex had said Ayell were a challenge ... and he'd be stupid not to take advantage of it ...
"Close range Shadow Ball," Kaleri said calmly.
"Watch out, Peach! Dodge it, then give him a wave!" His own words seemed to reach his ears from a distance. I'm actually facing Kaleri Kutter ... The reality was just so ... unreal.
The twin Shadowsons turned their heads toward the shadow cast by the brilliant lights; as they gave it a brief, intense stare, a globe of darkness seemed to leap from the shadow, flickering an eerie purple-black with a temporary life of its own. Then, simultaneously, the two whipped their heads around again, sending the arcane orb flying toward Peach. Tensing, the mouse leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding the attack by a fraction of an inch; as she hit the ground again, a golden wave of electricity pulsed from her entire body, slicing through the two grayish foes. One abruptly blinked out of an existence, while the other suddenly froze, wailing in agony as his muscles seizing up.
"Dammit," Lightning heard Kaleri mutter; her points had just fallen a by good amount. "Shadow Ball it as much as you—"
"Leaf McKenzie? Leaf, report to the lobby immediately, please!"
In the audience, Leaf, who had been intently watching the battle, cringed at the booming echo. Whoever had summoned her via the intercom was a person she'd never seen before, but as all Officer Jennys sounded alike, she knew immediately who it was.
Fystor hissed something to Leaf as the girl stood up, to the displeasure of the people behind her.
"What?" she asked.
"When you hear it, remember that you deserved it," Fystor repeated, a knowing look sparkling in her silver eyes. By then the other onlookers had started to glare at her, trying to get a better look at the stage as Peach was hit in the gut by a swirling Shadow Ball, so with a huff the brunette meekly forced her way past the front row, stomach churning with awful speculation of whatever the Officer had to say ...
"Hi!!" Lily exclaimed excitedly, not taking her eyes from a screen hanging from the ceiling above the desk. From the sounds emanating from it, Leaf didn't have to guess that the Waterflower was watching the Contest. "Isn't this so exciting, Leaf?!! Your silly lightheaded boy friend is doing so much better than even I thought he'd do!!!"
"He is NOT my boyfriend!" Leaf retorted hotly, before blinking as she wondered why on earth she'd said it so violently.
"Enough of that." Standing beside the desk, the Cerulean Officer Jenny fixed the girl with an almost pitying gaze. "Good afternoon, Leaf. We've heard you've been in a couple of nasty fixes recently — the bloodthirsty Tyranitar, the Pewter electrocution, and that awful collapse of Mount Moon's internal structure, if I remember correctly."
And escaping a gutting from a Shadow, Leaf thought, and Vember almost blowing our heads off ... but they don't know about that, of course. Inwardly she shivered. All these secrets I'm keeping ... the law's protected me so far, but if they knew about all that ... or if they found out about who caused the Pewter fiasco—
"The police arm in another city discovered something rather ugly," Jenny continued, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "Extremely complicated ... and it concerns you."
A vile taste rose in the back of Leaf's mouth. They know, she screamed silently, fear of what was coming paralyzing her. Somehow they traced the blame to us! They know! Horrible images of prisons flashed across her mind, their damned captives pressing their leering faces between the bars. Or would they merely take her briefly into custody, as they had with Ocean? She wanted to believe that, but the voice of reason crushed her feeble hope ... Ocean hadn't destroyed an entire city ... Terrified of judgment, she squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the blow.
"I'm sorry." The Officer's voice, oddly, held a heartfelt note of apology. "We would have contacted you earlier, but an issue with one of our top-security prisoners ... well, we were delayed somewhat. According to our detectives, it appears that ... Leaf, I am sorry. Your mother's been kidnapped."
* * *
Last edited by SugarPesticide; 2nd January 2010 at 7:41 AM.
Awwww, i feel so sorry for Dory ;_; Also because i really like Nidorina now because i recently did i Firered playthrough with one. But that was so graphic it was awesome XD You make evolution so violent.
And is this an error i see?
''That concludes out appeal rounds!"
I really liked the battle (can you call it that?) between Cobalt and Roark. The Aron was very funny.
*Wants to know if Lightning beats Kaleri, waves flag ''Go Team Lightning'' :P
Wait, isn't Phlash possed to say all 'f's as a 'ph'? And can you make a list of all the pokemon and who owns who and who is who? I'm a lil lost there...I think. Anywho, thought it was good, quite graphic too. YAY!
@ Sinnohdragon: Ohnoez! The shame. D: *hides from error police*
But of course evolution should be violent. It's better than the generic white glow seen in the games/anime, and it gives the characters a fun moral dilemma as a bonus. =D And the Cobalt/Roark bit ... I think it's better described as an ambush. ^^;
@ kingferret: Phlash only uses "ph" when she's about to really lose it (usually when she's extremely excited or angry). Compared to some previous events (Shadow Clefairy + body switch, anyone?), this latest scene was practically calm. :P
And, for your convenience:
Spoiler:- teh list of d00m:
Er, not really. Where did you see that? o.0
Spoiler:- But:
It's funny that you mention it. She doesn't actually have it with her at this point in the story, but Gina owns a Nidoking. (I gave it to her because of its Pokedex number XD) Are you ... reading my mind? >_>;
Er, not really. Where did you see that? o.0
Spoiler:- But:
It's funny that you mention it. She doesn't actually have it with her at this point in the story, but Gina owns a Nidoking. (I gave it to her because of its Pokedex number XD) Are you ... reading my mind? >_>;
No, I thought there was a hard headed nidoran male. lol, Guess I was wrong.
Funny story. I was getting good progress done on this chapter, thanks to the holidays, when I suddenly stumbled onto LOLcats. *the horror* So I'm not the only one to blame for this coming slightly later than it would have, due to my brain leaking out of my skull. Although the political section is win =P
Also: revamping the earlier chapters! Looking back on them made me cringe, not just because of the subpar writing. There were also a lot of awkward details that needed smoothing out. The first post is already editted with the revamped chapter one, around twice as long as it was originally. If it gave you a migraine the first time you read it, then reread it, plzkthnx.
* * *
Chapter Nineteen: Through the Looking Glass (Enter the Snaggers! Answers and More Questions!)
The shadows inside the office fled as a hand flipped the light switch. "Please, take a seat," the attorney said, gesturing toward a solemn wooden chair in front of his desk; both boasted polished mahogany surfaces, glinting in the electric light.
Of their own accord, Leaf's legs carried her to the chair; she dimly registered the fact that she was seating herself. Her eyes gazed through the attorney without seeing him: the numbness of this new discovery still crashed over her in unceasing tides. Mom's gone. It just couldn't be true, she told herself — her mother was an unwavering constant, a comforting presence that she could always return to if the worst came to worst ... if she finally called it quits, if some sort of injury abruptly cut her journey off. Home was the backup plan, in case she needed to fall back on the old, familiar grounds of her early life.
But they were telling her it was as empty of promise as it was of people.
The attorney sighed, running his fingers through well-groomed, deeply vivid purple hair. Though she had never even seen him before, she knew his face well — he was none other than Cerulean's Attorney Jack, the man who, along with his counterparts Joy and Jenny, kept the city running smoothly and efficiently. Together with the local gym leader, they were a formidable force: champions of society whose trade ran in their blood, as much a part of their being as the near-identical features running through the separate families. Standing there before her, in his crisp indigo suit so deeply saturated with color as to be almost black, he should have emanated an aura of confident assurance, silently soothing her that nothing was wrong, nothing at all ... but this uncertain fidgeting, his wondering where to begin, muffled her feeble hopes even further. Jenny, standing attentively in the doorframe, looked just as confused, blue-green hair frazzled under her officer's cap.
"The Viridian force snapped these during investigations," Jack told the brunette finally, withdrawing a few photographs from his pocket and passing them to her. Accepting them with numb fingers, Leaf's eyes widened at the shocking sight of the first photo: her house — or rather, what had once been her house — stood smoking, sunny yellow paint peeling disgustingly from charred walls. The front door hung precariously from a single hinge, revealing the shadows creeping from the unlit entry hall. The tree she had once climbed almost religiously as a child? Snapped almost in two, its top half still attached by a sole fibrous sinew, the entire once-proud giant now twisted and flaking, life-sap coursing down its trunk from ominous gouges. The little flower gardens in which Lecky could often be seen raising the sprouts tenderly, where mother and daughter had always planned half-jokingly to spend time planting berry bushes? Burnt beyond recognition. Through the smashed windows of the dead house, shadows of policemen could be seen, searching for some sort of clue. Right on the edge of the photo, a ribbon of brilliant yellow tape — Caution: Do Not Cross — flashed warningly.
She didn't want to look at the others. This one was far more than enough to handle. Somewhere behind her eyes, pools of salty liquid formed.
"Abnormal activity was reported as far back as four days ago." Jack's voice seemed to reach her brain sluggishly, as if the ears with which she listened didn't belong to her. "A neighbor says that she approached the house at one o'clock PM with a plate of cookies. When she knocked on the door, she wasn't concerned when nobody answered — she thought your mother had gone for a walk. So she left the plate on the doormat and went on her way, thinking they'd be picked up when your mother returned. At 8:25 that evening, she called your house to ask what she thought of them. Nobody picked up." He paused, turning a solemn gaze to his wide picture window; the urban panorama gleamed with brilliant afternoon sunlight. "No signs of life came from the house over the next couple of days. The neighborhood's concern turned to worry as phone call after phone call went unanswered. Yet they knew she was still in the house — the cookies were broken and scattered across the porch, and the car still in the driveway.
"And then, at 4:15 this morning, a loud crash caused a neighbor to alert the authorities. Ten minutes later, when Jenny's Viridian cohorts arrived on the scene—" He nodded respectfully to the Officer, who still looked uneasy. "—The intruders, whoever they were, had fled. Your mother wasn't there, but investigators could tell immediately that she had, for whatever reason, been hiding herself before the kidnapping — curtains drawn, signs that the doors had been bolted. The evidence suggests she was aware that somebody was watching the house ... and perhaps she even knew her abductors' identity."
Twin tears streaked down Leaf's cheeks. Stop it, she snarled at herself automatically, blinking hard and sending more moisture sliding freely down her face. But even her anti-sobbing mannerisms couldn't compete against the awful, gut-wrenching reality. She's gone.
"Kans?" a voice by her feet asked, accompanied by a soft slithering. Stifling a hiccup, she looked to the floor to see a bright purple snake gazing up at her with yellow, concern-filled eyes. Lifting its long, sinuous body up the floor, it offered her a white handkerchief, held delicately in its mouth.
"Thanks," she gasped, accepting the cloth and dabbing at her face.
"I'm sorry," Jack said, looking awkward. "If I may?" He gently withdrew the photos from Leaf's unresisting fingers, then flipped through them until he found whatever one he was looking for. "This," he explained, staring at the picture, "perhaps backs up that theory the most — that is, her familiarity with her abductors." He looked at her over the photo's edge. "Trainer records indicate that Lecky the Electabuzz was her only Pokemon. Can you verify this?"
Leaf nodded shakily. "Yeah," she warbled.
Jack returned the nod. "Everyone we questioned in Pallet Town agreed with you," he said. "Which begs the question ... how does this—" He flipped the photo around to face her. "—back it up?"
Her eyes widened at the single object in the picture, sitting on musty, bloodstained carpet: a small steel chest gleamed in an investigator's light, a broken padlock hanging limply from its gaping lid. Within its soft, padded depths was absolutely nothing — nothing at all, aside from ten deep hemispheric indentations, the five in the lid matching those of the other five within the stuffed compartment.
For a moment, her dry mouth worked uselessly to form the words. Then, with a great swallow, she gasped, "Were there—?"
"Poke Balls? Yes. Detectives have determined that these aren't just your average store-brand varieties, either." He pointed at the marks on the inside of the lid; looking hard, she realized there were indeed further grooves marking the insides of those half-globe indentations, the places where the spheres' top halves would have nestled. "This was a Net Ball," he said, indicating one with a bold crisscross pattern covering its entire area. "And a Fang Ball—" (A snarling pair of incisors.) "—Dusk Ball—" (Round patches, denting the indentation very softly.) "—and Luxury Ball." (A crisp, shiny circle circumscribed around the hemisphere's otherwise smooth peak.) "And that last one ... well, it's just a normal Poke Ball," he finished lamely, causing Jenny to facefault.
Staring at the photo, Leaf's confused eyes mirrored the thoughts chasing each other around in her head. But that's not possible! She shook her head as if to chase the picture away. I've never even seen Mom with any Poke Balls besides Lecky's! And those kinds ... where would she have gotten them, anyway? She can't have any other Pokemon, she just can't! Her gaze flitted over the Net Ball’s indentation again. A frustrated shiver shook her fingers: why was this whole thing reminding her of Paris?
"And they found this on the floor," Jack said, placing a small token on his desk; Leaf leaned forward to see a small, silvery disk-like object, with the letter "G" glinting enigmatically from its surface. "I assume it's a calling card of some sort ... but I doubt it's one of the crime syndicates. None of them start with G, do they, Jenny?"
"Rocket, Snagem, Magma, Aqua, Plasma, and Divinity," Jenny listed, counting them off on her fingers. "No, I don't think it's them."
And Cipher, Leaf almost put in, though she stopped herself in time: mentioning the secret Shadowfiers might lead to several awkward questions for Bill, and she wasn't completely sure that his radio equipment was legal. Besides, Cipher didn't start with G, either. "But what does my mom have to do with all of this?" she asked finally. "Why would they take her away ..." A teardrop in her eye glistened treacherously, and she blinked it away with a sniffle.
"It could be a new syndicate," Jack said mostly to himself, not seeming to hear her. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he stared at the "G" as if it were some sort of code.
"A new syndicate ..." Jenny let the thought trail off as the full implications of what Jack was suggesting hit her. "You can't be serious, Jack. How could a criminal group gather adequate funds and recruit members without our knowledge? Teams don't bloom overnight, after all. And even if these 'G' people really are a syndicate, why are they only showing themselves now?"
The two officials contemplated the problem silently, leaving Leaf to brood over this latest string of shocking discoveries. Mom, she wailed silently, staring out the window as if willing the thought to cross the unknown stretch of space separating them. Where are you, Mom? What's happening? Why didn't you ever tell me about them? Who are the G people, and who are you really? And all the while her heart broke into increasingly smaller pieces in longing for the innocent life she once led, and for berry bushes that would never grow.
* * *
"And here she comes." Fystor tossed her hair in a dramatic flip of her head; the bronze tresses fluttered like feathers in the breeze. A smirk played at the edges of her mouth as she watched the brunette teen approach, the grassy gap between them shrinking with deliberately even steps. "Finally been knocked down a peg or two, have you? Well, I won't say I didn't warn you."
"Shut up," Leaf muttered, shoulders hunched.
The bird-woman raised an eyebrow. "'Shut up'? Really? You know, somehow I don't think that's the smartest thing to tell a god to do."
She didn't bother to give the legendary a reply. Her mother's unknown fate weighed heavily in her mind, as heavily as the newly given money weighing down her pocket, as if the cold, hard cash was the remnant of her mother's shriveled corpse. Don't think that, she snapped at herself, pushing the morbid notion out of her head. Of course she's still alive. She has to be. But even the conciliatory thought couldn't keep a lump from forming in her throat, which she tried and failed to push away with a dry swallow.
From their seats in the grass, the two boys watched as she struggled to keep her tears down. In his fist Lightning could feel the soft fabric of the aqua blue ribbon, dotted with a pattern of white bubbles. For a moment after it had been presented to him by a giddy Daisy, he'd felt nothing but a joyous, lightheaded dizziness, the bright colors of the ribbon dancing in his vision as he leaned down to scoop Peach off the floor. Kaleri, of course, had been nothing short of furious. "Too good for a tiebreaker?" she'd snarled, storming past the unconscious form of her boring Ayell to snap at the smiling MC, a Cerulean Ribbon clenched in her own hand. "What do you mean, 'too good for a tiebreaker'? This is NOT standard procedure in the case of a double knockout! There's supposed to be a sudden death match, in which the more talented Coordinator — me, obviously — is decided once and for all!"
Daisy, in response, had chirped something about the Pichu's brilliant yellow fur sparkling beautifully throughout the entire performance, while Ayell, according to her, "amazingly didn’t just stare at her without doing anything pretty", to which Kaleri had responded with a sharp order to go and do something anatomically unlikely to herself. And Lightning, standing there in the center of the stage, had felt for the first time in his life like a real winner... of course, it had only been a few seconds before the shorts kid had rushed out at him, beaming and squealing like a fanboy, but the success was still there, all the same.
But now, with the news of Leaf's mother gone, the confidence and triumph had fled, replaced with a painful, wrenching empathy twisting in his gut. What would it be like, he wondered, having a parent solidly giving him comfort and advice throughout his whole life, only to have that parent snatched from his side by fate? Even the possibility seemed alien. Stroking Peach's furry head absently, he couldn't help thinking that somehow, in spite of the exciting climax in the Contest Hall, his victory had been empty and hollow.
His feelings, however, were not shared by the other teen: leaning languidly against a convenient boulder, Anni sprawled across his ankles as she snoozed peacefully, Roark's eyes narrowed behind his glasses as a wave of satisfied vengeance surged inexplicably within him, mingling with the by now all-too-familiar fear and fury of horrors past. Finally, you know what it's like ...
"Well, you're ready now, at any rate." Fystor yawned, as if this entire setting was beneath her.
Leaf blinked, staring at the woman. For a moment, the meaning behind the statement eluded her, drowned out by the cutting despair — but the silver glint in Fystor's eye brought her back to reality: the reason for all these terrible, crazy happenings, and hopefully some just-as-wacky solution, were soon to come. With a deep breath, she pulled herself together. "Fine," she snapped, letting her fear and sadness fuse together and sharpen into a hungry blade of anger. "Fine. Let's see what could possibly be so important that you had to slap me with my mom's disappearance."
"It wasn't me," the woman replied calmly, turning away from Leaf's tense, furious frame. "It was, as you put it so well, the ‘G’ people. But enough of that. It's time to let you people in on the situation ... but first, I'll introduce you to your fellow questors."
"What d'you mean, 'fellow questors'?" Leaf asked with a scowl, as Fystor brought her tanned hands to eye level. "This is about us, not some ragtag little bunch of misfits! And no, we're not the same thing—"
A soft burst of sound, like a muffled implosion, tore the words from her mouth as wind rushed past them in a sudden whirling gale, tossing everyone's hair to and fro. Alarmed, the boys leapt to their feet — Anni, jerked out of sleep, snorted as she clambered to a more alert position — and they all stared in apprehension at the wind's source: an expanding green-blue circle hovering before Fystor like a mirror. The circle, casting a strange, celestial light on their open-mouthed faces, seemed to be filled with whirling, colorful images chasing and blending into each other, shapes incomprehensible one moment and almost defined the next. Then its lower edge brushed the grass, and immediately the circle's growth ceased, its diameter roughly four feet across, though constantly fluctuating with its strange shimmering. At the same time, the wind died down, reverting to its previous state as a gentle summer breeze.
"What the hell is that supposed to be?" Leaf asked in a strained voice: the unexpected show of power had left everyone holding their breath. "Is it some kind of portal that you want us to go through, or what? If it is, too bad, because I am not walking through that weird thing."
"Not a portal, per se." Fystor dropped her hands, squinting at her swirling creation as if searching for something. "But let me assure you, it would not be a good idea to walk through it. The consequences would be most dire."
She blinked. "Dying, you mean?"
"No. The Aura Glass is meant for far-sight, not instant teleportation. Thus, setting foot through it would result in immediate paralysis, followed by the flesh dripping off your bones before various body parts are scattered throughout the dimensions. And then you would die."
Lightning blanched. Peach, sensing his nausea at the graphic description, patted his ear soothingly.
"Ah, there they are," the woman declared, as the images within the circle paused in their dance, then threw themselves into a single, focused image. The scene was lit with the stark noontime sun — wherever this place was, it was far from the breezy Kantoan cape fluttering with a fresh evening breeze. Beneath the blinding cloudless sky, an expanse of grayish-brown sand stretched unbroken to the distant horizon. Unbroken, that is, aside from the tiny makeshift camp situated near the Glass, comprised of a broad tent — or, more appropriately, a large blanket propped up on four knobby sticks, to block out the intense sunlight. A strange motorcycle-type vehicle, its reddish paint worn with sand and age, shimmered like a mirage in the heat; under the blanket, however, a few shadowy figures could be seen stretched lazily on the ground, presumably sleeping.
One, however, was sitting straight up and staring directly at them. The strange girl's sparkling blue eyes widened with curiosity, before her trusting face widened with an excited grin. "FYSTOR?" she shouted. "FYSTOR, IT'S YOU!"
The tent exploded with startled, abrupt motion: a dark shadow leapt to four feet, snarling, while a lanky human form beside it flailed in surprise, swearing violently. Something unleashed a bloodcurdling yowl, which abruptly ended with a loud shriek and a painful-sounding smack. Then, as was expected from the beginning, somebody smashed against a stick, causing the entire structure to collapse on top of them, the blanket draping their thrashing forms. The girl who had awoken them, however, didn't seem to notice this, as her relatively still form kept yelling at the legendary from under the blanket.
"FINALLY, WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO GET BACK TO US FOR AGES, YOU'LL NEVER GUESS HOW MANY WE SAW, WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE, DID YOU KNOW SOME LIZARDS AREN'T PURPLE, GUESS WHAT I—"
<You know something?> Peach asked nobody in particular, absentmindedly twirling a blond curl of Lightning's hair around her small yellow hand. <Weird as the idea is, I think that these people are even odder than we are.>
"Pipe down, people," Fystor told the mysterious group calmly, as if they really were sitting just a few feet in front of her instead of thousands of miles away. "These are the other ones I went to find, remember? Come out before you all get suffocated."
The strange girl's head popped out from under the blanket, revealing a mop of orange hair, comprised of chin-length side bangs and twin spiky pigtails. "Oh, okay," she said, standing up and dusting herself off. Her outfit drew a raised eyebrow from Leaf: the stifling heat in that foreign desert should have deterred her from wearing that fur-lined blue jacket and fuzzy pink boots, even if they did look gorgeous with the deep purple tank top and white miniskirt. "I just, you know, was so excited to finally see you again, 'cause you're so cool with that aura stuff! And by the way, guess what? We actually Snagged a couple Pokemon, isn't that great?"
An exasperated voice wafted from under the blanket. "For the love of Shaymin, Rui, I told you to let me do the talking."
"But talking's fun!" Rui pouted, turning to the figure awkwardly getting to its feet, a steadily rising shape whose outline could be seen under the blanket. "Like when we were facing the puffy dude, and he was talking in time to the funky music? That was so funny! Plus, he was almost cool!"
With a sigh and a lofty sweep of the hand, the other person tossed the blanket away, revealing himself to be a tall, lanky young man, possibly a year or so older than Roark. If Rui's attire had been out of place, than his clothing was nothing less than downright stupid — dressed in some sort of black suit from the waist down, he also wore an enormous blue overcoat that flapped dramatically in spite of the lack of wind. But the truly ridiculous thing about him was the funky-looking machine covering his arm, a contraption matching the color of his coat while also boasting several bright red wires, which spiraled upwards from the slot beside his hand to the padding over his shoulder.
"Sorry, Fystor," he said respectfully, nodding in deference; his silvery hair sparkled with the movement. He then turned to the astonished teens staring back at him, and his huge almond-shaped eyes narrowed even further (Leaf decided he bore an astonishing resemblance to an elf). "But these ... are you sure they're the right ones? They don't look particularly gifted."
"Yeah, well, guess what? You don't look too special yourself!" Leaf exploded, turning bright red at the insult. "All you're doing is wearing the funny machine thing, is it supposed to compensate for something?"
The boy's face blushed a delicate purple. "This is a state-of-the-art mechanism that'll topple the entire underground Shadow trade," he shot back, fury coloring his tone. "Somehow I think it'll do more good than a midget blonde, a dude with a tacky helmet, and a chick toting an ugly bag and a weird orange Gameboy Advance."
She fought the urge to try to leap through the Glass and punch him in the nose. "You jerk! This bag is not ugly!"
"Yeah, and this helmet is a lifesaving essential in potentially unstable caves!" Roark, too, looked rather ticked off, though his emotion was still a far cry from Leaf's volcanic rage.
They both looked at Lightning.
"What can I say?" he asked, shrugging. "He's right about me."
<Time to die, suckers!> a voice growled evilly: a thick, snakelike head shot out from under the blanket, thin pod-like protrusions growing in a ring around the base of a long neck. For some reason, Rui shot the Pokemon an uncomfortable look, which went unnoticed. Curling his lip, the Pokemon snapped his head around at the strange boy's foot; the boy barely managed to jump over the scythe-shaped leaf jutting from his forehead. Red eyes flashing in frustration, the Pokemon made to try and cut the boy again — only to freeze as a faint purplish glow surrounded him, before his head was slammed forcibly into the sand with a solid thump. <Ow! Cut that out, freakazoid!>
<Stop being a psychotic maniac, then, and let me help you!> another Pokemon retorted, sticking her own head out to glare at him. The cat's lilac fur was smooth and pristine even in this harsh environment, though the large tufts on either side of her large-eared head were rather frazzled. The ruby-red gem on her forehead glinted as she shifted in the sand.
"Don't even bother, Espeon," the boy told the cat, shooting the reptile a cautious glance. "That can't be how to deal with Shadows. You can't even reason with them, let alone purify them, so why try?"
<Because there's still good in him!> Espeon gazed up at him with huge dark eyes. <I can feel it! It's in there, waiting for the right catalyst to set it free ... and fly like it used to, tireless as a bee ...>
<Wow.> Another mammal stuck his head out on her other side, his long ears sticking straight up from a head covered in jet-black fur. Yellow rings circled his ears and forehead, and he rolled his crimson eyes in mock empathy. <You're a poet now, Espeon? Surely that'll drive out the evil, because nothing says "Begone, foul demon" quite like pretty words that sound like each other.>
She stuck her tongue out him. <Shut up. OW! I said don't do that!> she snapped at the reptile, who snickered in satisfaction before getting his head shoved into the sand again.
"This is all very cute," Fystor said serenely, "but introductions are yet to be made. These three," she told the kids in the desert, who were trying to ignore the Pokemon's antics as best they could, "are Leaf, who is extremely annoying and self-righteous at the best of times—"
"Hey! Take that back right now, Fystor! I am not annoying, and you know it!"
"—Lightning, who can't find his own feet without tripping over them—"
"That's stretching it a bit, isn't it?"
"—and Roark, also known as Mister 'Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen', and won't stop moaning about it."
"Yeah, well, maybe if your dad had—"
"And these guys," the woman went on, talking right over everybody's protests, "are Wes, who's seen the error of his past ways and therefore can't possibly do anything wrong, and—"
"And I'm Rui!" exclaimed Rui, beaming. "I sort of got kidnapped by evil people, but Wes saved me, 'cause he's awesome! But then it turned out he was evil actually, but not really, but I wasn't okay with that for a while because evil people are evil, but then I decided he was cool since he saved me from the other evil people and that's not what an evil person would do, and then he used the thingy to steal Pokemon from other people, which isn't an evil thing to do 'cause the Pokemon were evil because the evil people made them evil, which is an evil thing to do, and I helped him with it ‘cause I can see which Pokemon are evil ‘cause of their evil aura stuff, which maybe means I used to be evil, but maybe an evil person just put that idea in my head when they kidnapped me to get me discouraged, which is an evil thing to do, I think, and yeah. Oh, and I found out that even fish dance to disco." She grinned at them cheerfully, making everyone sweatdrop.
“… That’s great,” was all Leaf could manage. She gave Fystor a questioning look, which was ignored.
“We’ve used it to Snag a couple of Shadows,” Wes said to the woman, lifting the machine thing on his arm for emphasis. “Just like you told us to. But I seriously don’t know what good it’ll do, Fystor. Looking at their attitude, anyone can tell it’s impossible to purify them.”
<Well, duh!> the reptile snarled, spitting out a mouthful of sand. <I’m too sexy for my shirt … I mean, I’m too evil for my shirt! Screw that, I’m too sexy and evil for my shirt, hell yeah!>
<You’re not wearing a shirt,> the black Pokemon pointed out.
<Exactly, doofus!>
“It can be done, actually,” Fystor told them. “Just by spending time with them and trying to bond with them. If the Beast doesn’t kill you, that’ll confuse it and weaken its hold while simultaneously strengthening the soul. And I’m pretty sure some scientists over there in Orre are investigating other methods as well.”
Wes blinked. “Really?”
<See, Umbreon?> Espeon stuck her tongue out again. <I was even doing it right, too! Bayleef’s already on the path to redemption, and we can save him from being damned, I mean, Crushed, and we can all live happily ever after!>
<Whatever, sis,> Umbreon said, rolling his eyes. <As long as the bugger stops being a Pokecidal moron.>
<Hey, I’m right here, you know! Filthy Bibarel,> Bayleef spat.
“They can be cured?” Leaf asked, as if Fystor hadn’t just said so.
“Yeah! Hey, Leaf, I bet we can tell Bill to hang out with Clefairy, and he’ll help its soul get freed!” Lightning grinned at his own idea, because no idea is quite as genius as informing a psychotic billionaire to become bosom buddies with an equally psychotic pink fairy of doom.
<Oh, Lightning, you’re so smart!> Peach gushed, stroking his ear.
“Silence!” Fystor demanded suddenly, making everybody jump. “The Lady herself … has arrived.”
Everyone looked around automatically, expecting to see some mysterious Pokemon emerge out of nowhere, but no one showed herself. Indeed, in Orre, a giant tumbleweed chose that moment to bounce across the sandy backdrop, while an unseen Wingull cried on the far shore of Cerulean Cape.
Yet Leaf could swear she heard voices …
I. And it came to pass that I was transported to a strange place, in which I could see …
<That idiot had better not call me Minnie again,> somebody muttered as the first went on, <or else I’ll snap off his scythe and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, so help me Mom.>
<Behave thyself, my daughter,> a deep, mighty voice chastened quietly. With the low, almost inaudible rumble, a wave of gentle peace rippled throughout the area, soothing Leaf’s aching heart in spite of her stubborn refusal to let go of the resentment.
“…Where?” Rui asked finally. Then she beamed as a thought occurred to her. “Ooh, wait, is this like one of those games where the hero is a god or something reincarnated? That’d be so crazy, and fun, but also scary because demons would be chasing us and trying to steal our HP, but that’s a silly thing for them to do, because my Silver Arrows were upgraded to Holy Silver Arrows, so all that happens is we get more experience points!”
Wes could only facepalm repeatedly in disgust.
“No,” Fystor replied, smirking again. “She’s watching through another dimension, along with Shaymin and a prophet. The prophet’s a safeguard, in case you were wondering. It’d be hard explaining the entire thing to you, so let’s just say this: the time from which he comes is about as stable as it gets, so his prophecy is definitely going to exist in every timestream. And, as myth tells you over and over again, prophecies usually come true, especially if it’s in spite of somebody trying to prevent the actual event from happening. So his being here is pretty much all that’s keeping you all from being erased from existence, since he’s writing about you.”
“…” Leaf said, her head spinning with the convoluted logic.
<I shortened his purpose even further,> Shaymin said, <to two words: bloody nuisance.>
“Um …” Lightning rubbed his temples, looking confused. “Could you say that slower, and so we can understand?”
“Of course not. Messing with your heads is too much fun. Now …” She turned away from the blonde’s pained expression, reaching out toward the Aura Glass with a long finger that, as it delicately touched the Glass’s unseen surface, somehow had taken the appearance of a hooked eagle claw. “We’ll start with a brief lesson in basic theological hierarchy to help you better understand what’s going on, yeah? To start, take a look at this …” She traced a few shapes on the glass, which somehow showed up as sketches outlined in green-blue, seemingly floating before their wide eyes. “At the top are the legendaries, or gods, who hold absolute power over their respective domains. Some are more powerful than others, but that’s a debate for another time. It’s obvious, however, that Mom … that is, Lady Arceus … is unquestionably the ruler of the gods.” She gestured toward a stick drawing of a horse with a spiky ring around its midsection, which mysteriously began to gallop around the others as if it had been waiting for a signal.
<It beareth an astonishing resemblance to mine self,> the deep voice commented, amused.
“Beneath them,” Fystor continued, tracing a line to keep the legendaries in the top section of the Glass, “are the angels, or demigods. The offspring of legendaries and mortals, or of other angels and mortals.” Strange half-human, half-Pokemon shapes appeared as her finger brushed the Glass. “They’re not born with nearly the power of us legendaries, but with time and training they can give us a serious run for our money. They, like us, have the power to take on mortal shapes as well as divine ones.
“Next we have mortals.” Twin vaguely human-shaped stick figures were traced on the Glass, one with a triangle on its body that was probably meant to be a dress. A circle with triangle-shaped fins and a cat with spiky ears joined them. “Humans and Pokemon. They don’t do much, but it’s amazing how high maintenance they are. Oh wait, they’re you guys. Never mind, then.
“Beyond mortals …” She cleared her throat significantly. “The Dark Side awaits. No, they do not have cookies. Oh, they’ll have illusions of cookies, to be sure …” Her lip curled as she drew a few hooded figures, floating eerily. “Nice, big juicy cookies like independence, love, cash, friends, fun. But by the time you finally figure out they’re only illusions, you’re right where they want you. They’re the demons, or chaotics, or glitches, whichever you prefer. And the Shadows fit in this category, too, because of the whole inner darkness thing.
“And then, below them all, so vile and foul and powerful that he deserves his own dank, dark level …” Fystor hissed as she drew a spiky, undefined cloud of darkness. “Apolydon himself. The ultimate evil, devoted to his twisted goal of destroying all other life. He gets a kick out of using servants to carry out his plans, though. They think they’re so clever, ‘ooh, I’m tricking Apolydon somehow, I’m so clever,’ but no. Why should he care about them any more than anybody else?”
Anni shifted nervously. <So, this evil bugger wants to exterminate us?> She glanced around, as if expecting a giant foot to appear out of nowhere and squish them flat.
“I didn’t say exterminate,” Fystor replied, a knowing look in her eye. “I said destroy. They’re not necessarily the same thing. Basically, he wants to enslave every creature that’s ever lived — even the ones that have passed on to Giratina’s realm — and feed on their Crushed souls for all eternity, an undying parasite.”
“Like a vampire.” Lightning shuddered.
She nodded. “Definitely like a vampire.”
There was a moment of silence as her words sunk in. Beyond the distant beach, waves crashed against each other in their perpetual dance. Even Bayleef had stopped sputtering venomously to listen, head cocked to the side in curiosity.
“Um,” Rui remarked at last, “that’s mean of him. But I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Is there, like, a bracelet or something he made long ago, and we all need to go and toss it into the fires of Mount Battle in order to finally end his evil reign? Or did he put bits of himself into seemingly ordinary objects, then scatter them across the land, where they’ll sit guarded by dark magic until we find them and try to destroy them? And if one of us is one of the objects, and I don’t think it’s me since I don’t have a funky scar, then do we have to let him kill them?”
Everyone stared at her.
“I don’t know her,” Wes muttered to nobody in particular, embarrassed.
“That’s … not how it works.” Fystor seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face. “He isn’t just an evil, Rui. He’s THE evil. Emphasis on ‘the’. What would really need to be done to stop him … well, the stronger he is, the more souls he can Crush. A literal vicious cycle. Now, if somebody died as a Shadow, he or she would automatically be Crushed, since the Beast was in control. The recent Shadowfying process that Cipher’s come up with is practically serving him souls on a silver platter. More souls have been Crushed in the last decade than in the entire KanJohto War.”
“The War of Western Aggression, you mean.” Like most Kantoans, Leaf was a tad testy concerning the name of the civil war that had raged between Kanto and Johto over a hundred and fifty years previously.
Fystor rolled her eyes. “Oh, you people. I just love how you can listen to the demonic stuff without flinching, yet get riled up over the name of a conflict that happened before your grandparents were born. But ignoring that issue … the main point of your mission is to find and purify the Shadows. It’ll severely cut off his source of power and buy us time — us being Shaymin, Lady Arceus, and myself — to investigate the legendary and angel ranks for signs of corruption.”
The kids looked at each other warily: everyone wanted it to be said, but no one would actually say it.
No one, that is, until the silence wore on Rui enough that she finally declared, “You’re crazy!”
And that was all that was needed for a breakout of vehement disapproval of Fystor’s plan, punctuated every now and then by a snarl from Bayleef, a thump from his head, and a chuckle from Umbreon.
“What the hell, purify—?”
“You want noobs to do this stuff, seriously—?”
“What makes you think we’d have the time to bond with every single Shadow we come across, I mean, honestly?”
“This is ridiculous, that’d mean you, Shaymin and the Lady are the only trustworthy legends—”
“We’ll get killed, and guess what? I don’t think we have enough pixie dust for that!”
“This is a joke, right? Of course it is. Your legendary buddies are snickering at us from above, aren’t they?”
“Do angels and corrupted even belong in the same sentence?”
“SILENCE!” Fystor’s voice sliced through the air, along with the unanticipated flash of lightning flying out of nowhere to char the ground before her into ashy dust. Immediately the teenagers shut up, blinking nervously. “I understand it’s a lot to swallow, especially for mortals that’ve barely crawled out of the cradle, but just be quiet for a minute while I sketch it out further! Holy trucking Mother, you’re driving me insane!”
<”Holy trucking Mother”? That is a new one to mine self,> the Lady murmured to herself. <Shaymin, from where thinkest thou Fystor thought of such an oath?>
<No idea.> Shaymin’s statement seeped sarcasm.
Fystor exhaled in the tense quiet. “Thank you. I suppose it’s Q-and-A time for Professor Fystor, then. Bugger, this is sure to annoy the hell out of me. Anyway: no, this is not a joke, although the Twins might see it that way. Of course I don’t expect you to buddy-buddy enough with every last one of the vicious monsters to skip off into the sunset in the limited time we have. Rui, I hope you’re joking about the dust, because if not, you’ve obviously snorted some. Leaf, you weren’t listening, were you? So shut up. Roark, I’m afraid that, for the time being, we’re going to have to assume you’re right. Legendaries wouldn’t be on the wrong side for power alone, they’ve already got as much as they can handle. But the problem is that at various points in time, one or another has seen mortals and occasionally even angels as useless wastes of space, so it’s very likely that some will team up with Mister Evil just to wipe them off the face of the earth.” She sighed. “Folly at its greatest … Shaymin and I are the only two who actually think like humans do, so we can empathize with mortals almost too easily. So we consider them worth paying attention to, usually. And Lady Arceus loves her little creations so much, don’t you, Mom?”
<Indeed. Their lives be all the more profound for their brevity.>
“As such, we’re the only three we’re currently certain aren’t willing to start gunning down mortals. Even your traditionally benevolent gods – the Latis, the Necrans, Skarbimi, Cresselia – aren’t necessarily benevolent now, at this moment in time, so it’ll take some searching on our part to figure out which are on our side. Yes, believe it or not, we’re not going to sit on our rears while you people do all the work! We’re legends, not bureaucrats!
“And the angels … hopefully the majority will have more sense than Vember.” She shook her head; whether it was in despair or disgust nobody could tell. “If your general mental image of angels involved cheery humans wearing halos, descending from heaven and singing tidings of comfort and joy to the sound of triumphant trumpets, then take that image and burn it with hellfire. They have no more reason to be kind and sympathetic than mortals have. They can be ruthless with their power, corrupt with laziness, or drunk with fame. Some are notable politicians or celebrities or tycoons – you undoubtedly have heard of their fame, though their parentage of course wouldn’t be widely known. Others are terrified of their own powers and are liable to lash out at anyone who pries into their lives. Old age doesn’t affect them – when it comes to death, that’s all that separates them from mortals, although they’re still resilient to injuries, which means they usually go out with a violent, painful death. Dying terrifies them. If they see something as a threat, they won’t hesitate to destroy it.
“And unlike gods, angels can be Shadowfied. They inherit Beasts from their mortal side, and when those Beasts take over, they turn into serious bad news. At this moment, there’s only one thing more dangerous to you guys than an angel, and that’s a Shadow angel, because while the former’s power is tempered with reason, the latter’s got no second thoughts to shield you from its killing blow. The greater they are, the harder they fall.”
Her eyes, which had been fixed on an undetermined point and clouded with contemplative shadow, blinked, then flickered upward; the silver irises snapped back and forth somewhat irritably at the sight of the fascinated humans, intently listening to her speech.
“Hmph. Didn’t mean to turn this into Angel 101,” she huffed, shaking the pensive thoughts from her head. “Although I suppose too much information is better than none at all, in cases like these. But back to the point … Wes, you and Rui’ll be doing pretty much what I’ve been telling you to do this entire time: Snag Shadows, purify, repeat, as much as it takes to bring down Cipher. Simple enough outline, yes? Although you’ll have to watch out for Snagem too, they weren’t exactly thrilled when we destroyed their base.”
Leaf, still reeling from Fystor’s spiel, could only blink as the world flooded back to her; she was caught halfway between believing the legendary’s words, and thinking that this entire thing was just a bad rehash of some overused manga plot.
“True. Although I must say, I was quite thrilled to see you decided to bring acetone peroxide.” A devilish grin stretched Wes’s face; a light shone in his golden eyes, kindled perhaps by Fystor’s vivid descriptions of the demigods, although to Leaf it seemed more likely that it was because he was fondly recalling some memory of blowing something up. “That really did quite a number on them. TNT is so overrated—”
“You blew people up?” Lightning’s eyes bugged out in horror. “What the heck, that’s so barbaric! You can’t just make them expl—”
“I didn’t make people explode!” Wes retorted, brandishing the machine on his arm at nothing in particular. “I made the Snagem hideout explode, there’s a considerable difference! Granted, probably half of them are buried under the rubble, if they weren’t severely burned by the heat … but that’s justifiable, seeing that the lot of them are crooks!”
“It’s still cruel!” the blonde cried. “The stories of bombings they told me were horrible…” He trailed off with a shudder.
Leaf frowned, glancing at him over Peach as the mouse attempted to soothe him. “Who’s ‘they’?”
Lightning, of course, was too worked up to reply, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he had, anyway; breaking from twin expressions of frozen shock, Roark and Anni had joined the verbal fray.
“Collapsing the roof on them? Don’t you have any idea how easily a human can be crushed by just a square half foot of rock?”
<Sick *******. Go blow yourself up, let’s see how you like it.>
<You’re so mean!> Peach shrilled, glaring at the Orreans as she coddled Lightning. <What’d you have to go and do that for, weirdo?>
<Don’t call our trainer a weirdo!> Umbreon spat back at the mouse, long ears pressed against his head as a protective expression tightened his face. <And he was doing the right thing, shorty! If he hadn’t done it, there’d be even more chaos going around than there is now!>
“—And that’s with the proper safety precautions, and how many people do you honestly think were wearing helmets when it collapsed?”
“They were evil people, they deserved to die. Anyone who says otherwise is kidding themselves!”
<And anyone who says what you just said is a soulless *******.>
“SHUT UP.”
Fystor glared from one person to the next as everybody abruptly fell into silence, looking back at her abashedly. Beads of sweat glimmered on Lightning’s forehead as he shivered. Just on the edge of her vision, Leaf swore she could hear the unseen prophet muttering to himself as he wrote.
XDVII. And there came a deathly silence as all pondered the chance of the mission succeeding. For verily, it seemed to mine self as though the likelihood of the humans cooperating peacefully was as great as the flame burning without heat, or the frost of morning blazing like unto wildfire, or hell itself freezing over—
The voice was cut off with an abrupt squeal.
<That’s for liking the sound of your own voice,> said Shaymin smugly, ignoring Arceus’s soft rumble of chastisement.
“I’d ask if you’d all really think you can go through with this,” Fystor told the intent mortals, mirroring the prophet’s words. “But since you’re all bound by fate to do this, none of you has a choice in whether you do it or not, so there’s no point in asking. I just hope, for your sake, that you learn to get along like good little mortals unless you want to get Crushed like empty soda cans.”
She glared at them, power emanating quietly from behind her wise silver eyes.
“Got it?”
A vague chorus of mumbling consent answered, punctuated by another thump; Bayleef muttered <Damn,> his mouth full of sand again.
“Good. Anyway, you all know what you’re supposed to be doing, so maybe I can finally—”
“Um, not really.” Roark rubbed the back of his head, glancing over at Wes in disgust. “You didn’t tell us what you wanted us to do.”
She blinked. “Oh. Well, you people were yakking at each other … here’s the deal, you three. Believe it or not, I don’t know everything, so I went and asked Uxie – the Uxie – some questions. The bugger wasn’t particularly cooperative, but one of the most important bits he told me is that, since the main importer of Shadows is Team Rocket, it’s essential that they get taken down in order to topple Cipher’s influence in Kanto. But, he said, it’ll be even harder to do that than we originally thought, because some members of the Kanto League are also Rockets.”
They gasped in horror. Bayleef’s snicker at this was quickly cut off.
“Yes, some of the most powerful trainers in the region, gone to the dark side. Of course, with two of you being noobs and the other being an anti-evolution nerd, it’ll hardly be easy. Which brings you to your first step: train. Get stronger. By all means, keep going on your badge hunt thing; it’ll make it far simpler for you to meet up with the gym leaders and get an idea of what they’re like. Don’t actually confront them about it until you’re sure you can really thrash them, though. We don’t want Leaf’s big head ruining it for everyone else.”
“Hey!”
“But …” Lightning’s protest drifted weakly in the air, unfinished, as he realized Fystor wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Cornered into the mission, he shivered again, apprehension flickering in his eyes.
“Of course, you want to go searching for the Lapras instead,” the woman told Roark, who nodded silently. He blinked in surprise when she added, “And I’m telling you to do that. Uxie said it’d be smart for you if you kept your head down for a while …”
“Why?”
She rolled her eyes. “Why do you think?”
The color drained from his face. “So … he is looking for me.”
“Bingo.”
“Well, so much for not getting killed.”
“Just don’t draw attention to yourself,” she repeated. “Anyway, there’s the plan. Plain and simple. Any more questions?”
The five humans glanced at each other. After the legendary’s talk of vengeful angels, the truth about what they were actually supposed to do seemed almost mundane.
“Before I take the Aura Glass down, I want to say one last thing. I’ll expect you people to keep in touch with each other with those … interesting machines.” She smirked knowingly. “Thanks to fate, you’ve got far more in common than you know.”
Last edited by SugarPesticide; 5th March 2011 at 7:03 PM.
A brief moment of silence after they had registered her words, Wes groaned. “Oh, no. And here I was hoping we were going to let them think Rui was the weirdest thing about us. Why, Fystor? Why?”
“I know, I’m so awesome that way!” Rui agreed, beaming. “I just reached the rank of Wyrd Sister a couple days ago. But at the rate I’m going, I’m sure I’ll get to High Priestess in no time!”
“I thought you people told me to be quiet,” an electronic, rather feminine voice remarked a bit grumpily. “It’d really be more convenient for everyone if you just made up your minds about whether you want me to talk, all right? I swear, getting stolen was not the greatest thing that ever happened to me!”
On Cerulean Cape, the three teens did a double take at the unexpected new speaker.
With a shaking finger, Lightning pointed in Wes’s direction. “Is …” he breathed, hardly believing his own words, “is the … did your machine just talk?”
“It’s not that hard to speak directly to me,” the voice replied rather edgily; it seemed to be emanating from the Snag Machine on Wes’s overcoat-covered arm. ”I have a mind too, you know. In any case, what makes you so sure I can communicate with these people, O Fystor? I don’t work nights as a telephone.”
“Hot damn!” the Pokedex cried out from Leaf’s yellow handbag.
“… You? … Oh, bugger.”
Wes’s mouth dropped open; Rui, on the other hand, seemed to be too busy gloating over her Wyrd Sister status to see how this was out of the ordinary.
“That’s how.” Fystor smirked.
“Of course it’s me,” the Pokedex went on, trying to drop down to a sultry baritone and failing miserably. “I’m the sexiest circuitry you ever met, doll. What’s a girl like you doing clear out in a place like Orre? Last time I heard, you were battling a nasty bug in Hoenn.”
“Bug?” Lightning asked, though as usual everyone ignored him.
“I suppose you also heard I liked Mudkip,” the Snag Machine replied coolly. “Either way, my life is none of your business, so kindly shut up.”
“Business after pleasure, love. Business after pleasure.”
“As you might have guessed,” Fystor interrupted, looking perversely pleased at everyone’s expressions of strained confusion, “the Pokedex and Snag Machine are … acquainted with each other. Due to a long set of events that would hurt your heads just trying to follow, they can connect with each other long-distance to give you people relatively simple communication.”
“But …” Leaf rubbed her aching temples; the day had held far too many surprises for her. “But how did that even happen?”
“Like I’m going to tell you, Naaaarrrrrrrgh,” the orange machine said in a snarky voice.
“She wouldn’t believe you even if you did,” the other pointed out.
“You wound me, doll. Seriously, that infected my CPU with sorrow.”
“I could tell you,” Fystor said, cutting off Leaf’s persistent demand to be in the know, “but you don’t need to know every detail about them. Unless you want everyone to know what Ocean told you last March?”
She gasped. “No! I mean …” A furtive glance, as if checking to make sure nobody else understood. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell!”
“Good.” The bird-woman honored them with her trademark smirk. “You keep your secrets, everyone else keeps theirs. Fair enough, don’t you think?”
To this, the girl could only glower in vague humiliation, angry that Fystor was holding one over her head. Even legendaries aren’t above blackmail, she thought darkly, taking care that the thought permeated her entire body to give the woman a nonverbal retort.
If Fystor could read that, however, she wasn’t letting on: she had already placed her hands before her, the air humming softly around her as the Glass began to fill with translucent, undefined images. “They’ll get in touch with you,” she assured the Orreans, who didn’t look as though they sincerely believed that. “The Pokedex has its ways. In the meantime, I’ll be meeting up with you behind Outskirt Stand in a couple of days.”
Wes nodded slowly. “Okay, we’ll be there.”
“Good for you, Legolas,” the Pokedex said obnoxiously. “But mark my words, you’d better not be thinking you can spear the Machine with your longbow, if you know what I mean.”
The young man flushed red as he realized its hidden meaning, though the color was difficult to see behind the thickening haze.
“You brute!” the Snag Machine snapped at it. “If you think that’s a clever ploy to get me to swoon for you, you’d better destroy your current hard drive. Because I certainly don’t want any contraption with parts that can form such stupid thoughts.”
“Well, there is another part of mine that I know you want. And it’s hard … and has a LOT of drive—”
“POKEDEX!”
Fwwwit.
Everyone blinked in surprise: the Glass had abruptly vanished, leaving no trace that it had ever existed aside from the line of singed grass before them. As it did, the prophet’s voice finally trailed off into silence, as the feeling of love dissipated into a chilly nothingness, and with a shiver Leaf scowled as she realized that she’d been interrupted again.
“… Where’d it go?” Lightning asked stupidly, glancing around as if expecting it to jump out at them.
Fystor turned toward them, her hands cupped around a tiny sphere of sparkling blue-green light. “Here. Or rather, the power that formed it is here. Recycling is important, remember that.” She stared at it for a moment before it winked out of sight. “Well, that was productive. Anyone up for dinner?”
It was a mark of how strange the latest events had been that it took them a full minute to realize that she meant it.
“Well, I took your advice,” Bill called from the pantry, his voice muffled. “I’m pretty sure I have something else in here besides casserole. Of course, I may have to dig further back to find something … wow, I haven’t been to this corner since 2005. Oh, there’s the motherboard I was looking for—”
<Anything besides casserole,> Peach muttered, gazing from the table along with the others.
Everyone else’s feelings of agreement were somewhat vague; they were still chewing on the facts Fystor had just told them, shooting each other sideways looks every now and then as if unsure whether they had all seen the same thing. Fystor, of course, had no such gripes, considering the more immediate plan action as she drummed the tabletop with impatient fingers.
Frosti nodded. He glanced at the grimy window, from which the dim red glow of the setting sun shone weakly. With a shiver, he bit his lip. <Will we really have to do this mission thing?> he asked nobody in particular.
Anni shot him a suspicious glare. <How’d you know about that?>
In answer he pointed at Fystor, who smirked at his gesture even though her back was turned.
<Oh, yeah,> the Cranidos realized. <Aura stuff. Duh. Well, it’s still a bit Farfetch’d to me, but personally I’d rather look like a fool than get my soul smashed up, if you know what I mean. So yeah, it’d probably be a really smart idea to follow through with it.>
Cheri’s antennae twitched. <And to destroy his influence would be the honorable course.>
<Mhm. > Peach nodded slightly. <Plus, it’d be really exciting. But I really don’t want my poor Lightning to get hurt.> She patted her trainer’s head, though he didn’t seem to feel it: something about the day seemed to have shaken him, and he stared after Bill with unfocused, anxious eyes, sweat still beading his brow. <I’ll have to keep a tight leash on him, the sweetie.>
“AHA!” Bill exclaimed, extracting himself from the pantry. He held in his hands a bag full of thick stringy stuff, coated with puce fuzz. “Spaghetti,” he added, noticing everyone’s confused looks.
A heartbeat of silence followed as they wondered if he actually believed that they thought it was a good idea to eat something that might have been made before their great-grandparents were born. Then there was another, more philosophical heartbeat as some of them wondered how many angels existed who were as old as that spaghetti.
BANG went a chair as it slammed backward into the wall, making everyone (besides Fystor) jump.
Stress tensing her muscles, she marched out of the kitchen, ignoring the fact that their eyes were boring into her retreating back. This is too much, she thought edgily. Flashes of the past twenty-four hours flitted through her brain: screams of terror, snapping bone, her ruined home, Wes’s cynical expression, the drawing of spiky darkness … Too much.
She was halfway up the stairs, still seething in furious resentment, when she realized that her Pokemon were being strangely quiet. A sharp remark formed in her mouth as she swiveled to face them, but it died in her throat as she realized why she hadn’t heard them: they weren’t even there. She was standing halfway between floors, stupidly alone. Jaw set, she pounded down the stairs again.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she hollered, marching back along the hall.
Frosti’s voice echoed from the kitchen. <Yeah.>
<But I’m hungry!> Parvati complained, in a my-mouth-is-full-of-moldy-food voice.
“Then come on!” she ordered. Why the hell do they have to be so difficult?
But Cheri’s single word rang authoritatively.
<No.>
She froze, foot lifted comically off the floor. Nails bit into her palms as she clenched her fists. “Excuse me?”
<No,> Cheri repeated. <Life hardly revolves around you, human. We are not in battle now, so we cannot be expected to cater to your every whim. But even greater than that, you cannot comprehend even the problems under your nose, much less the great cosmic struggle we have been caught up in.>
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snarled.
“You know, it’s kind of awkward when somebody you can’t see is shouting at somebody next to you,” Lightning commented almost thoughtfully.
“Some things are better off not seen, though.” Roark’s voice, too, was pensive.
With a poorly restrained shriek of rage Leaf stormed away again, stairs passing beneath her stomping feet in a blur. Damn them, she thought furiously, her emotions teetering dangerously out of control. Damn them. Damn Fystor, damn Mom, damn Cheri, damn angels, damn everything!
It was only within the confines of her room, when the door had slammed thunderously and the sun’s dying light dripped through the window, when she flopped onto her untidy bed with her face buried in her pillow, did she let go of the last remnants of control and did what she never, ever let anyone see her do.
She cried.
* * *
The dark heart of the city thrummed with the noises of the night, of low rumblings of protesting buses and shrill wails of frantic sirens. From the sky-high buildings towering over the gridded roads, mellow lights gleamed enigmatically, concealing the stars in the shroud of night that was fast approaching. Most of the citizens had already returned to their homes, leaving an odd stillness on the corner of Fourth and Broadway, a relatively less crowded portion of the downtown area.
But any idea that the scene was quiet was quickly shattered.
<Yeah! Take that, phatty. That’s whatcha get when you mess with the phollowers of Ronald McDonald!>
A pained sigh. “Phlash … cut it out.”
<Didja see me, Weird Hair Guy? I totally kicked them a long ways phrom here!>
The tall shape of the admin staggered out of the darkness, halting as he gazed up at the building before him. It made up for its comparatively dismal height with the display of glowing neon decorating its exterior, culminating in the blazing red letters of its famous name, blurred in his vision. In spite of his agony, his face broke weakly into a pained smirk. Finally, I’ve returned …
<But really,> his Phrygoil babbled rabidly, scampering past him, <it was so phun. Maybe now they can join up with the phaith and worship the bubbling egg, too!> With a clatter of claws, she cheerfully chased after a tumbling paper bag, undoubtedly the discarded container of somebody’s oily lunch.
He rubbed his head, readjusting his wig slightly. “Great …” He cut himself off with a hacking cough; droplets of blood flew alongside saliva. How in hell had he kept it together on the plane? Somehow, the pain had gotten even worse with every passing step. “Phlash, return.”
<Aw, but I was enjoying myselph,> she pouted, before disappearing abruptly into her Poke Ball.
Replacing the sphere on his belt – his hand was hurting, he realized vaguely – Cobalt lurched through the narrow doors of the building, the crippling pain lancing through his chest clouding his mind more with every throb. He was only dimly aware of the smoky atmosphere billowing outwards as he entered the stuffy building. Rather than looking around at his darkened, hazy surroundings – he’d been here a million times before, anyway – he headed toward the security guard, leaning against a nearby silvery wall with a lazily watchful eye. Around him, loud club music drilled into his skull. Someone outside his vision laughed shrilly.
As the admin dizzily approached, the guard jumped to attention, glancing around furtively before murmuring, “Welcome back, Mister Cobalt. We’ve been expecting you.”
Cobalt nodded. He didn’t trust himself to open his mouth: it was all he could do not to faint. In his head, the need for healing whispered: Sleep …
The guard’s eyes narrowed in concern. “Are you all right, sir?”
He only winced, almost doubling over as he cradled his injured ribs. Damn Cranidos, he thought faintly. Damn Stealth Rock.
Sleep ...
Colors swam before his eyes in a blurry haze, so he could only dimly hear the guard’s voice hissing, “… appears to be injured. Summon Team doctors, I repeat: summon Team …”
His last semi-coherent thought was of what the Boss would think, now that his pride was stripped away with this awful loss of control …
Sleep.
And then he hit the floor.
* * *
Author's Note: No, this is not going to turn into a religious fic, jsyk. I'm not that cruel. :P
Last edited by SugarPesticide; 26th January 2010 at 5:39 AM.
Ha, just managed to get this one in before February ends, so I can keep up with my "chapter-every-month" goal. Amazing how long it took me to actually stop beating around the bush and write this. You know how they say TV Tropes will ruin your life? They aren't kidding.
* * *
Chapter Twenty: How to Be a Nobody (Regret and Repentance!)
Trekking through the towering stalks of wheat, a spiky-haired boy grimaced as his hand throbbed again. The authorities had finally released him, returned his freedom. Yet the many lines had left their mark: his right hand was so cramped from its grip on the pen that he couldn’t uncurl it without his muscles screaming in protest. So he went on, a virtual cripple and yet a free one, for he was no longer recognized as a public menace by the overbearing police.
In their eyes, he was once again a nobody.
A smirk played at his lips as the thought crossed his mind. A slight rustling in the wheat nearby caught his attention, and his left hand automatically plucked a spare Poke Ball from his belt. Twirling in his fingers, he stood very still, waiting for the unseen Pokemon to come to him.
And come it did: a tiny star-shaped Pokemon waddled right across his path, oblivious to his presence. With an almost lazy motion he tossed the red-and-white sphere at it; the pink creature, large brown ears twitching at the faint sound of the Ball soaring through the air, squeaked in surprise as she caught sight of it. She turned to run, but the Ball had already opened, converting her into a mass of bright red energy and drawing her slowly inside. With a soft snap it shut, trapping her inside in spite of her struggles to free herself: it pinged cheerfully before it hit the ground, sending a small cloud of dust flying.
His grin widened as he stooped to pick up the Ball housing his new Cleffa, then gazed around as he replaced it on his belt. Fire had to have come by this way, he knew, remembering the other teen’s talk of defeating the gym leader in the next city. That was before they had separated, he remembered, as he set off through the field again. Before he’d been forced to return to Officer Jenny and her loud, snapping mouth, while Fire was allowed to move on with his life. But they’d meet up soon enough, whether Fire wanted that or not. He’d make sure of it.
Whistling a half-forgotten tune, Ocean continued trudging through the sea of endless grain.
* * *
She dreamed she had flippers.
There was an ocean of pain, its waters chopping and violent, and she was swept along in its current. Even if she could have escaped the pull, it’d be pointless: the path she followed was lined with ivory spears pointed inward, and orange blood pooled beneath them, staining the water dark. Overhead, two huge, hulking Pelipper cruised overhead, and their young Wingull offspring followed right behind, pumping their wings ferociously just to keep up. As she watched, one of the Pelipper swiveled around in midair, snapping at the smallest Wingull with its huge beak – in a single bite, the larger bird tore off a frantically fluttering wing, which dropped like a stone into the water – strange green-blue stuff poured from the gaping wound in place of blood. With a pained shriek the victim attempted to keep its newly deformed body aloft, flapping its remaining wing uselessly—
At the splash, it exploded into a flurry of bloody icicles.
One struck her, tearing a hole in her side as it sank into her flesh, and she cried out in shock as it pierced something deep inside her. Some dark fluid oozed out, dripping around the icicle and into the ocean, where they hissed with sudden bursts of escaping steam … and to her horror, a voice in her head struck up a whispering chant: die, die, die, die, die, die …
A small chunk of ice, shaped like a beady eye, floated past her, bobbing along in the waters. Through the haze of pain obscuring her vision, she blinked blearily as the current turned it in her direction, and it glinted with the reflection of the blood-red sky, glaring at her murderously as if this was somehow all her fault. Then, with a strangely soft sound, it imploded, forming a vacuum that churned the water into great, swirling whirlpool that seized her in its swirling motion, dragging her down into the newly-formed vortex, ignoring her shrill screams.
diediediediediediediediediedie
Her strength ebbing away, she turned her exhausted gaze upward in despair, too numb with pain to even show surprise at the sight of the thing floating above her in the sky. What she had thought was the sun was instead a flaming baby-blue eye, watching the current pull her under. Its dark laughter echoed around her as water poured into her lungs—
“NO!” she yelped, her eyes snapping open, staring at the ceiling in transfixed horror. She took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling her lungs expand painfully before finally releasing the air in a long exhale. Twitching her fingers almost reflexively, she sighed in relief, the tension in her body ebbing slightly. It was only a dream …
But even as the fear drained mercifully away, the guilt still paralyzed her: the sudden, ugly revelation that it had all been her fault.
My fault.
She squeezed her eyes shut as tears threatened to fall. She counted on me to take care of her, she thought, despair poisoning her mind. So small and innocent … Even if I wasn’t her actual mother, that’s how she saw me. I was at her hatching, I brought her up, I showed her the world … She swallowed hard, memories welling up in her brain.
A horn cracked through the shell, followed by a small, dark head, dwarfed by two huge ears. Two huge black eyes squinted in the sudden rush of light.
“Pras?” it squeaked.
“How could I do that to her?” Leaf moaned, fists clenching in regret. “She’d hardly grown any older since then. I wasn’t just an idol to her … I was her coach, role model, and mom, all rolled into one. She looked up to me like I was a star. Maybe it went to my head in the end.”
<Will you protect me, Mommy?>
“Of course I’ll protect you, Paris …”
“I could always count on her to love me, no matter what …”
<Mommy! You came back!> squealed the Lapras, bowing her head down to nuzzle Leaf's face.
“Even if my own stupid selfishness blinded me to that.”
“You’re not the Pokemon I thought you were. You never were, really …”
“And in return, I ditched her like yesterday’s news.”
“I’m releasing you.”
<Please, Mommy …>
“If it was all for nothing, then the cause is pretty much worthless, isn’t it?”
A soft tap startled her from her troubled thoughts. <Hey, Leaf …>
“Huh?” She glanced over the edge of the bed to see the wide, expectant eyes of her young cat Pokemon gazing back at her. “Oh. Morning, Parvati.”
<Morning. Hey, you should come downstairs. You’ve been sleeping for ages, and Bill’s got breakfast ready for us!> The Meowth beamed, licking her whiskery chops. <Well, he did at first. But then I got really hungry, because it smelled soooo good, and me and Eevee got into a fight over who could eat it first … I won.>
She sighed, her head falling back onto the pillow with a soft thump. “That’s great, Parvati. Really great.”
<Hey …> With a graceful leap, the cat leapt onto the bed next to her, tail flicking from side to side as she tilted her fuzzy head in concern. <You okay, Leaf? You don’t seem really with it. You look kinda sad, actually.>
Really? the girl thought tersely. I had no idea. Then she blinked, realizing with sorrow that it was that kind of thinking that had driven her to abandon Paris. Swallowing hard, she turned her head toward the large window, through which sunlight streamed cheerfully. I have to stop acting like this, she told herself firmly. Or else I’ll lose another Pokemon …
<C’mon, tell me what’s wrong,> Parvati pleaded, nudging her blanket-covered arm with a soft white paw. <I’ve gotta know. Fystor told you yesterday that you needed to cooperate with the people you’re working with,> she added, squinting one eye in an attempt to look sly. <So cooperate with me. Tell me what’s bugging you.>
“I’m wrong,” Leaf mumbled.
Parvati leaned a little closer, putting an ear in her trainer’s face. <What?>
“I said, I’m wrong!” the brunette moaned, burying her head under the fluffy pillow. “If I hadn’t been so stupidly selfish, Paris’d still be with us! I couldn’t look past the stupid indigo scales … to me, it was like nothing was under them.” She huffed dejectedly. “Too damn short-sighted of me.”
<Paris is your old Lapras, right?>
“Mhm.”
<Well.> With a brief tensing of muscles, the cat casually sprung up onto Leaf’s shoulder, where she sat down as if she owned the human rather than the other way around. <You knew what you were doing when you released her, right? Then why’re you only just now seeing what’s wrong with it?>
“Dunno,” Leaf said, voice muffled. “Maybe I needed time to figure it out. Or maybe it was Mom being abducted — because, you know, I had to feel the pain she went through before I could understand why I shouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake. Having a constant female role model torn away from you … it’s important to have one, especially these days with all the stupid arrogant boys telling you that they make better trainers. At least you know where your mom is …”
A soft crash emanated from downstairs, followed by the sound of Peter’s snickering. A stray ray of sun crept over the lower edge of the window, catching Leaf’s eyes in a blinding stream of light. With a sigh she turned her face away, gazing instead at the shadow she cast on the wall. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she wished above anything that this mess had never happened. Cleaning up mistakes was too painful a job, she had only now realized.
<Run that by me again?>
She sniffed involuntarily. “What, the whole thing? Something about figuring it out—”
<Not that. You said, “They make better trainers”. Personally, I think that’s a weird thing to say. I mean, from what Mom and I have seen, there’re so many different paths that trainers follow. Some are meaner than others, but not all the nice ones are good at training. What’s the difference between a good trainer and a lame one, then?> There was a brief pause in which she allowed her words to reach Leaf’s brain; then, kneading her forepaws into Leaf’s shoulder, she continued. <From what Frosti and Cheri have told me, you’ve got a great competitive spirit. But y’know, you get kind of … focused on things … so much that you end up hurting people’s feelings. Maybe that’s how a good trainer is supposed to be, and maybe it’s not. But still … I think that there’s a reason you guys are called Pokemon trainers. It’s kind of, you know, about us rather than you. Of course, the fact that you’re feeling sorry about Paris might mean I don’t even have to tell you this, but …>
The words hung in the air long after Parvati had finished speaking. Only the squawk of an unseen Pidgey somewhere outside disturbed the contemplative silence.
<Sorry,> the cat finally murmured after a few moments. <I guess it’s not really my place to lecture. Just an idea, I guess …> She trailed off awkwardly, curling her tail around her paws and biting her lip in embarrassment.
Leaf, becoming painfully aware of the pressure her face was feeling from the mattress, lifted her head ever so slightly. Is that true? she asked herself. Was this really going on from the second Frosti and I met? Snapping at them like I do … I’m like Fire, back when he was an insensitive jerkwad. But the abuse, if there was any, was so subtle that until I abandoned her, I was the one they were rooting for.
I was the hero, weirdly enough.
Ha! If that’s heroics, give me a crash course in villainy.
With a grunt, she began pushing herself up; Parvati, cat that she was, nimbly jumped to her trainer’s side as the girl moved blearily into a sitting position. Sighing, she looked down at her Meowth, who returned her gaze with a tilted head and wide, expectant eyes. What am I going to do? she wondered. I can’t hurt them like I hurt Paris. But hell, how am I supposed to change? It’s not like I’m playing some lame video game where I can try again if I screw it up. And I might end up making things even worse! I know for sure I won’t be able to forgive myself.
Although … Fystor was acting like she knew everything about it. Of course, that might just be aura, but maybe she could give me some ideas about what to do. The legendary’s insufferable smirk popped up in her mind, but she brushed it aside with a mental wave. After all, who knows how old she really is — she’s bound to have seen a case like this before. And really, any argument besides “give her to me” is a good argument in my book.
“Don’t be sorry,” she said aloud, giving Parvati a wan smile as she scratched behind her ears. “Yesterday I would’ve said that it’s not my place to be lectured. Just goes to show how wrong you can be about yourself, doesn’t it?”
Parvati responded with a contented purr, rubbing her head against Leaf’s palm. The warm metal of her forehead coin rubbed against her skin, but she concentrated instead on the soft vitality of her creamy fur. It’ll be fine, the girl told herself, watching her Meowth close her eyes happily. It’s not a long shot; Fystor never misses a chance to put me down. And she’s sure to have the best solution, in any case. Nothing can go wrong with this plan, surely …
* * *
“Gone? What d’you mean, ‘gone’?”
Lightning flinched as a spray of food flew at him: Leaf was currently tearing into a granola bar, tossing its shiny wrapper into the steadily growing pile of similar wrappers sitting on the table before her. Carefully keeping a straight face, he wiped the spittle from his nose, forcing himself not to show disgust. He couldn’t really blame her for her unladylike behavior, as she hadn’t eaten in over a day — Most people have never gone that long without food, he had to remind himself — and Bill’s miraculous discovery of the box shoved somewhere at the back of the pantry had triggered in the ravenous girl a reaction similar to that of a Scyther finding itself in a locked room full of tiny red Pokemon. Still, letting somebody demand an answer of him with a mouth full of food was getting on his nerves. It was definitely getting on Peach’s, at any rate: the small electric mouse glared furiously at the girl from her usual position on Lightning’s shoulder.
Facing them from the opposite end of the table, Roark rolled his eyes. “By ‘gone’, we mean ‘she’s already left’,” he replied. “I’m really, really hoping you already knew what that meant.”
She glared at him.
“She left this for us to find, probably a long time before we even woke up,” he went on, sliding the paper sitting in front of him towards her. “Bill didn’t see it, obviously. He was still raving about his calculations for ‘the air velocity of a Swellow’, which is why he didn’t notice it in plain sight on the table. If Fystor didn’t expect that, I’m a girl.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.
<But you are a girl, Obi-Wan,> a voice by his feet crooned in mock adoration.
He sighed. “Anni, if you’re making another crack about my hair—”
The rest of their bickering faded into the background as Leaf scanned the note.
I’ve headed out. Before you start complaining about it, remember that I’VE got things to do too. It’s called responsibility, for the love of Mother. In any case, I already did an Aura Burn to hide you people from Vember when she regains her senses, so you’d better be happy. And after I check in on those bloody Twins, I’ll have to oversee Wes’s and Rui’s progress along with your own. Group advice: don’t make me have to save you too many times, all right? It pisses me off.
Lightning: Your Pokemon are happy. KEEP them happy. Reason? Two words: The. Shadows.
Roark: The Lapras isn’t strong enough yet to fight ocean currents, so your best bet is following them. I think that on this coast they move south, at least during this time of year. I may be wrong, so ask somebody about it. And keep your bloody head down if you want to survive.
Leaf: Next gym leader’s a psychic, so MAKE SURE everything in your big head isn’t floating around for any telepath or aura reader to see. Oh, and BTW, quit being an *******.
One bit of common sense here – if you run into an angel, DON’T get into a fight with it if you can help it. Remember its name instead, or at least its face. Using your brain is a GOOD thing, FYI. Now hurry up and get out of Cerulean before Vember tracks you down. You people weren’t chosen for nothing.
Fystor
She continued to stare at it, unseeing. The blood drained from her knuckles as she tightened her grip on the edge of the chair. Her heart plummeted as she realized that she couldn’t wait for Fystor to check in on them, that she’d have to think up a painful solution all on her own – but considering how horribly she’d abandoned Paris, anything she thought of wouldn’t cut it with Cheri and Frosti.
Something audibly bumped the table, and her gaze tore away from the paper instinctively, only to inadvertently lock with a pair of burning black eyes staring back at her from the dank shadows of the kitchen. Frosti’s expression was inscrutable. An orange flame flickered as his tail swayed to and fro, back and forth, as precisely timed as a clock’s ticking pendulum. After several seconds, he finally sighed moodily and moved behind the counter, vanishing from view.
I can’t do this without them, she thought, mechanically tearing another bite from her granola bar. And I can’t pretend I can boss them around like it’s nobody’s business anymore. But how am I supposed to make it right? They fought for me, even when they thought it was pointless. And that’s just one of the debts that can’t be repaid.
<— and a beard,> Anni was saying. <A shaggy druggie beard, like the pedo had in that one Christmas movie, before he had to become the new Santa when he smashed the old one with his van. Which reminds me, we should get strawberry jam sometime, that stuff is damn good.>
“For the last time, Anni, this is not going to turn into another American Idol rip-off!” Roark exclaimed, half annoyed and half amused.
Lightning blinked at him. “Wait, what?”
The redhead sighed, rolling his eyes at some memory. “Long story.”
<You only say that when I win,> the dinosaur remarked smartly, snickering.
They’re smart. Watching the playful banter and Lightning’s usual confusion, Leaf’s heart sank further as the situation’s ridiculousness hit her again. They didn’t get here through being selfish and superior. Lightning puts his Pokemon’s happiness before anything else, and he’s doing great. And sure, maybe Roark screwed up with the Skipper-as-Marshtomp thing, but still – he did it because he cared about Skipper, enough that he didn’t want evolution to hurt him. Twisted his reasoning there like hell, but at least he saw his mistake sooner than I did. Exhaling, she closed her eyes, letting darkness wipe out her vision for a moment. What am I supposed to do?
In the counter’s dismal shadow, Frosti sat and hugged himself tighter, trying to ignore the unwashed scent wafting from the grimy floor. The searching, analytical expression of his trainer, seen just moments before, lingered leeringly in his mind, as the statement he now knew to be the truth resounded through his mind.
She doesn’t think I’m worth her time.
It was obvious, he told himself, obvious enough that nobody had to say it. He was by no means inexperienced in battle by now, yet he was still clearly a disappointment. After all, he was her first Pokemon, and so should logically have the closest bond with her and be her strongest fighter to boot. Of course, any misconception that this was the case had long since been shattered: Cheri had already asserted herself as the most powerful team member, and Parvati, who they’d met barely two days ago, was showing the trainer an unending display of affection that was clearly returned. And where did that put him? On the sidelines as an outcast, in every respect but physical. And now, with his new nervousness concerning evolution, that status was more obvious than ever.
She wanted him to evolve, and he hadn’t. She wanted him to be an outstanding battler, and he wasn’t. She wanted him, above all, to make her proud of him somehow, and he couldn’t.
Because if a Lapras couldn’t please her – a rare, powerful Pokemon sought after by trainers, coordinators and collectors alike – then how could a Charmander, a specie seen comparatively often in the care of young trainers, ever hope to meet her impossible expectations?
<Sulking as usual, I see?>
His already tense frame stiffened even more as a startled hiss escaped his clench teeth. The noise died as he turned to see Anni looking down at him, a smirk playing at the corners of her beaked mouth. With a slight shiver he forced himself to calm down, feeling his pounding heart begin to return to its natural rhythm.
<I’m not sulking,> he retorted, his voice coming off rather more annoyed than he’d intended.
<Yeah, right. Real convincing show, small fry.> She plopped down next to him on the floor; eying him shrewdly. <Come on, bugger, lighten up. In half an hour tops, we’ll all be outta here on that quest thingy. It’s a hell of a lot better than sticking around here forever with that retarded scientist.>
<Mm.> He stared off into space, ignoring her.
<Look, buddy, I’m talking to you. We might not get another chance to talk for, I dunno, fricking months. If the psycho angel chick doesn’t kill us all, that is. Then conversations would be too damn difficult to do without a fricking séance.>
He gave no sign that he’d heard her, gazing at the far corner of the kitchen instead. Sunlight was already illuminating the floor over there, revealing the dark stains, glaringly bold against the pale tiles.
<Ugh. Work with me, dammit!> she snapped, shoving him over; with a gasp he was forced to hastily push himself back into position before he toppled onto the floor. <You need to know how fricking lucky you are, you moron!>
Now he finally looked at her, a bit of cynicism glinting in his stare. <Lucky? Me?> He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. <We’re running off to do something that’ll probably get us all killed, or maybe even Crushed. And I have to work with Leaf as a trainer.>
She snorted. <Yeah, I don’t envy you there. With a trainer like that, who needs fricking enemies? But that’s not the point. The point, small fry, is that I’m … I’m jealous.>
He raised an imaginary eyebrow. <Oh really? And what exactly is so great about me that you’ll come down off your pedestal and talk to me about it?>
<Don’t try to needle me, *******,> she snapped, glaring daggers at him. <You have something that I’ve wanted since I was born – and I’m millions of years old, so you can bet your moping *** I’ll be wailing on you about it. See, you actually have a choice on whether to evolve, and you’d rather be a moron and not evolve.>
Is that all? With a scoff, he turned away again.
<Look, retard, you may be all emo about it, but not all of us are. Back in the fricking day, I wasn’t strong enough to evolve when the Arceus-damned meteor hit. Then I got resurrected, got a trainer, and got a fricking life. I got stronger. But I also got this.> She shoved her wrist in his face.
He recoiled instinctively, then frowned as he realized she was only trying to show him something: a collection of beads made of small rocks, strung together so that they encircled the Cranidos’s wrist. They gleamed with a flat, sandy gray color, contrasting sharply with the dinosaur’s dark gray skin. As it neared his face, his heartbeat almost instantly dropped to its usual rate, and he gasped in surprise at the sudden change, wincing slightly as the blood ceased to race through his veins and resumed its natural flow. He blinked, frowning in confusion. Why was he afraid again?
<Carved from Everstone,> Anni told him from somewhere outside his vision; the bracelet held him transfixed as he basked in the change it had wrought in him. <Roark made it himself. Even before he became gym leader, we’d watch challengers battle his dad in his gym. We saw a lot of evolutions, and some of them were pretty gory, I’m not gonna lie. So he made me promise to always wear this, and I said fine, dammit, I will. Later on Skipper and Emily each got one, and they’ve been wearing those too – or at least Emily is, considering. But it never ****** them off as much as it did me.>
A slight smile came over Frosti’s face as he continued to stare at the bracelet. Somehow, it made him feel safe, stable, secure. Then Anni withdrew her hand, and the dark feeling returned with a vengeance, kicking his blood back into overdrive. His head automatically turned to follow it, and his eyes gleamed hungrily.
<If you hate it so bad, you could give it to me,> he murmured. Inside, he rejoiced at the idea. Finally a solution to the agonizing terror hovering over him, a guarantee that he’d never have to choose, never need to suffer, and always feel that cool suppression destroying any possibility of a terrifying future. Grinning, he reached out for it with an eager orange hand.
SMACK!
<No chance of that, small fry.>
Hissing in pain, Frosti clenched his teeth as he glanced down at his injury; a brilliant red welt was already forming in the shape of Anni’s palm. <What the h— … the heck did you slap me for?> he growled, nearly swearing in anger.
<Because you shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you, nimrod.> She grasped at it protectively with her other hand, beak clacking in distaste. <Besides, it’s important to me, even though it’s retarded. He makes us wear these because he doesn’t want our brains spurting out our noses, or something, and nobody can blame him for keeping us safe. I owe it to him anyway; he’s the one who dug me up. But still … He doesn’t understand how much the benefits outweigh the risks.> She sighed, half-closing her eyes. <He just doesn’t.>
Her reasoning calmed Frosti down slightly, and he unconsciously nodded at her words. Yet the fear and discomfort persisted, and his insides crawled with uncertainty.
<Just wanted to let you know about what you’re deciding,> Anni grunted as she pushed herself back into a standing position. <Throw the chance away if you want, but at least I tried to tell you. Hell, it might drive you crazy, but it’s not nagging my fricking conscience anymore … I guess I’ll be seeing you around sometime, small fry. Maybe. Not likely, though.>
And she left, leaving him in a shadow even gloomier than before.
“So it turns out that while the presence of the Exeggcute does make a difference, there are over two hundred other variables which could affect flight velocity,” Bill rattled on, facing them from the inside of the doorway. He paused to consult the inky notebook in his hand, then nodded and continued, “Okay, three hundred, not two. But guess what? One of the most prominent variables is the Swellow’s place of origin. So, given that there are no other manipulated variables, a Hoennese Swellow will have a different velocity than a Sinnohan Swellow!” Striking a scientifically triumphant pose, he beamed at the three teenagers, who managed to return weak grins. “I know, right? Everybody’ll be thrilled about this!”
Leaf nodded vaguely, not really listening. Today, at last, they were going to actually do something about the crazy happenings, and it was highly likely that somebody would inconveniently get themselves killed. In spite of the warm sun rays cast upon her back, a shiver ran up her spine.
“Well,” the scientist said, beaming at them all, “good luck on your journeying. Hopefully you’ll get where you’re going as painlessly and quickly as possible. Even if it’s not as fast as an unladen Swellow. Leaf …” He sighed, the grin fading from his face. “I really, really am sorry about almost killing you. I wasn’t trying to just smooth it over when I apologized before, and I want to really make it up to you, so … here.”
He fished two slips of blue paper from his pocket, handing them to her. With a puzzled expression, she scanned the identical writing shown on each of them. Apparently, each was a ticket admitting one person onto some boat called the S.S. Anne. “Thanks,” she told him, slipping the tickets into her pocket. Don’t know why the hell he’d think I want to go running around after some little boat, but I might as well accept his apology. “I really appreciate this. And don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m okay now, aren’t I?”
The grin reappeared as he nodded. “True. I just wasn’t sure if the psychological wounds had healed along with the physical … anyway, I’ll try and reason with the Clefairy like you all suggested. Imagine if I manage to actually get some sentient communication out of it! It’ll be the first first-hand account of life as a Shadow that the world has ever seen! All I’ll need to do then is teach it how to use a keyboard …”
He shook hands with each of them, and they smiled in return, gazing up at the sunny-yellow cottage almost wistfully as they said their goodbyes. It was with mixed relief and sadness that they slowly turned and began their long walk away from the only truly safe abode they’d known in a while, as they passed the tall, haughty hotels overlooking the sea. Within those walls they’d seen terror and drama, rage and tears, yet as their feet shuffled through a sea of green grass, they realized that, while they had stayed there, they’d felt a strange sense of security from the rest of the world, as if the isolated location had eliminated everyone else on the planet. But they only realized this now, as the scientist waved after their retreating backs and they plunged back into the jaws of dangerous adventure.
* * *
“Here they are!” Nurse Joy giggled, sliding two trays with three Poke Balls each towards their respective owners. “All healthy and ready to go! Lightning’s are all better now, too, but he’s still in the ER with his Nidorina. It may be a while before he comes out. He still feels guilty about her evolution, the poor thing.” Readjusting her nurse’s cap, she turned daintily and vanished into a back room.
Leaf hastily reached for a tray, not wanting to stick around with her companion longer than she had to, and pulled it toward herself, eager to get this wait over with. Pulling the lid off, she quickly reached for a Ball and placed in on her belt, then paused, frowning in confusion at the one of the remaining spheres. Weird, she thought, picking it up and staring at it curiously. I don’t remember ever having a Great Ball.
At her side, Roark cleared his throat awkwardly. “Those are mine.”
Flushing, she replaced the two Balls she’d taken on the tray, then swapped trays and took her own Poke Balls. Ignoring the miner as he reclaimed his Pokemon, she glanced about the Center’s lobby, searching for a place to sit while they’d wait for Lightning to finish his excruciatingly long visit with Dory. Furniture lined the sterile room in an aesthetically pleasing way, yet most of the chairs were occupied by trainers waiting for their own creatures, sitting in various states of anxiety. The only unclaimed seating she could see was a small couch with just enough room to accommodate two people.
What the hell.
A scowl twisted her mouth downward as she stalked haughtily towards the couch, pretending not to hear the footsteps of the boy behind her. With twin sighs they sat on either side of the couch, taking care to leave as much space between them as was possible. Folding their arms, they glared in opposite directions as if they’d never seen each other before in their lives.
Somewhere outside of Leaf’s vision, a little boy wailed. She gritted her teeth and tried to shut the grating noise out, albeit to no avail – the shrill sound of his voice brought Paris’s mournful cry echoing from the dark depths of memory.
“Cut that out,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.
“I didn’t do anythi—”
“I wasn’t talking to you!” she snapped, swiveling around to stare coldly at him.
He raised his hands in front of him defensively. “Well, sorry.”
She let him fry in her glare for a long moment, then turned away in a superior manner. Yet even over the obnoxious sound of the little boy, she thought she heard Roark mutter “Girls” under his breath.
Her eyes rolled. “Miners,” she scoffed.
“Kantoan.”
“Idiot.”
“Drama queen.”
“Four-eyes!”
“Snob!”
“Nerd!”
“Hillbilly!”
“Oh no you didn’t!” she shrieked, leaping at him with nails bared.
“I need to go,” Lightning whispered. He tightened his grip on Dory’s paw ever so slightly, half afraid that she might vanish into thin air if he let go. The pale blue Pokemon didn’t respond, however; only the shallow rise and fall of her pale chest and the slow beeping of the nearby ECG indicated that she was still alive.
The coordinator’s mouth half curled in an attempt at a smile. Even with the ugly patches where the glow had burned the skin away, and the nauseating lumps where the bones had broken, she looked so peaceful laying there on the cot, far from the pain that would invariably rack her fragile frame when she reawakened. She’s a tough one, he thought proudly, telling himself that the moisture forming in his eyes was due to the scent of Lysol burning out his sinuses. Not just a courageous girl, but a survivor. A survivor like me.
Gently he uncurled his hand from his Pokemon’s, pushing himself to his feet as he did so. From his shoulder, Peach patted his head comfortingly, gazing down at the unconscious Nidorina with soft black eyes. <Bye, Dory,> she whispered, looking back as Lightning dejectedly turned and walked out the door, letting the Pokemon sleep.
Immediately a loud crash from the lobby caught their attention, and with a worried expression Lightning sprinted down the sterile corridor, Peach clinging to his shoulder; a few stray sparks leapt from her short fur in anticipation.
“What’s this?” he heard Joy ask loudly above the noise of the clattering and oddly familiar shrieks. “No, no, no fights in here! This is a strictly pacifistic building! Miss McKenzie, you shouldn’t … oh dear …”
Fearing the worst, Lightning skidded into the lobby, sneakers sliding on slick tile. A strange sight met his inquisitive eyes: several chairs and a couch had been overturned, revealing undersides dotted with stains and ancient gum. A crowd of waiting patients stared with him in disbelief at a wild-looking Leaf, who smirked triumphantly at a helmeted figure limping quickly out the glass doors and out of sight.
“Aw, Leaf …” he moaned, facepalming.
“He called me a hillbilly,” she replied, blowing her frazzled hair out of her face. “The dude called me a hillbilly.”
“Oh, let’s just get out of here,” he muttered, grabbing his Poke Balls from Joy’s unresisting hands. “We could’ve at least split up with him peacefully,” he went on, dragging her by the hand toward the door. “Like ‘so this is goodbye’ or something You didn’t have to maul him.”
“What?” Leaf snorted. “And leave this place without a bang?”
It was a mark of how shocking Leaf’s attack had been that the nurse didn’t even call after them that she hoped to see them again soon.
* * *
~
<karatekid> fout a mousse thing tody, scary struff
<Sarcasm_Flower> Whee, sounds fun.
* Cranidos has joined #leag
<karatekid> I knowr ight
<Kenobi> =D
<Kenobi> hi
<Cranidos> Hi :)
<karatekid> so teh mousce thingie had a flufffy face
<Sarcasm_Flower> Oh hey
<Kenobi> How’re you?
<Cranidos> Got beat up
<Kenobi> Ohnoez :o
<Cranidos> by a girl
<Sarcasm_Flower> Leaf again?
<Sarcasm_Flower> Why the hell are you still with her?
<Cranidos> I’m not.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Good.
<Cranidos> I’m heading out of town today
<Kenobi> So you’re coming back?
* Spider has joined #leag
<karatekid> and it hasd hugews teeths
<Cranidos> No, sorry.
<Kenobi> :(
<Kenobi> Why not?
<Cranidos> Stuff.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Hey Janine!
<Kenobi> Like what?
<karatekid> and it sadi rawer
<Spider> Hi
<Spider> I’m so bored x_x
<Cranidos> Crazy stuff.
<Kenobi> Well that clears things up.
<Sarcasm_Flower> So am I
<Cranidos> Hey Misty
<Sarcasm_Flower>stupid sisters took my Joyfeel to use in a show >:/
<Sarcasm_Flower> What?
<Spider> *nod*
<Cranidos> Currents on this ocean are going south, right?
<Sarcasm_Flower> Yeah
<karatekid> and ull never gess wat it did
<Cranidos> Kay, just double checking.
<Kenobi> It bit your Lucario?
<karatekid> OMG
<karatekid> HOW DID U NKOW
<Sarcasm_Flower> It’s because he’s magic.
<karatekid> I KNEW IT
<Spider> What does it even matter where currents are going?
<Sarcasm_Flower> He’s over here in my city and he’s a curious nerd.
<Sarcasm_Flower> That’s why
<Cranidos> :/
<Spider> OK
<Sarcasm_Flower> It’s okay Roark.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Everyone else who’s here already knows.
<karatekid> so yah liek it bit my lcacefuo
<Cranidos> Only thanks to you :/
<Kenobi> LOL
<BASTIODON> So that’s where you are! Roark, my boy, why didn’t you let me know sooner?
<Sarcasm_Flower> OMG
<Spider> Or not. oo;
<Kenobi> …
<karatekid> wat
<Kenobi> Um
<Kenobi> Hi Mr. Howard?
<Spider> Have you been here all this time sir?
<BASTIODON> Indeed.
<Sarcasm_Flower> That’s SO WEIRD
<Sarcasm_Flower> OMG
<karatekid> hey tis is liek teh timw wen the buggy thingu bit my luvario
<Spider> +1 Ninja
<BASTIODON> You’re too kind Janine.
<Sarcasm_Flower> @_@!
<BASTIODON> So you’re in Cerulean, Roark?
<Sarcasm_Flower> Well
<Sarcasm_Flower> I don’t think he wanted you to know
<BASTIODON> What?
<Kenobi> Yeah, that’s what he said.
<Kenobi> Right Roark?
<karatekid> cas it had liek fangs amd kept saing rawwwwwwwwwwwr
<Kenobi> Roark?
<Sarcasm_Flower> Where’d he go?
<Spider> He’s still online I believe
<Kenobi> What exactly’s going on, sir?
<BASTIODON> Well
<BASTIODON> How much has he told you?
<Cranidos> Nothing, luckily.
<karatekid> then lucsarip was all leik U SAHLLL NOY POASS
* Cranidos has left #leag
<BASTIODON> Son!
<BASTIODON> Wait
<Kenobi> Roark?
<Sarcasm_Flower> …
<Spider> Now he’s gone.
<Kenobi> Mr. Howard, what happened?
<BASTIODON> Nothing!
<BASTIODON> nothing at all.
<karatekid> and teh buggie was leik AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPQ
<BASTIODON> Been worried sick about him
<Sarcasm_Flower> Cause he was all emo/nerd.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Weird combo
<BASTIODON> Hm.
* BASTIODON has left #leag
<Spider> Did that really just happen?
<Kenobi> Did what happen?
<Spider> I dunno.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Everybody’s weird.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Especially their family.
<karatekid> and tehn it died. lol
<Kenobi> Died, hm.
<Spider> What?
<Kenobi> Just thinking.
<Kenobi> Strange how all this started when
<Kenobi> … hm, yeah.
<Kenobi> He hasn’t been seen since then.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Since when?
<Spider> When?
<Kenobi> Yeah … that’s a weird coincidence.
* Kenobi has left #leag
<Sarcasm_Flower> WTF.
<Spider> Boys.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Agreed.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Boys can be such boys sometimes.
<Spider> In a really boyish way.
<Sarcasm_Flower> True that.
<Spider> Ninjas and tomboys > boys
<Spider> Girl ninjas I mean
<Sarcasm_Flower> Girls ftw.
<Spider> Even though girls aren’t good enough to date.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Yeah.
<Sarcasm_Flower> Wait, what?
<Spider> Weird logic tangent. Sorry.
<Sarcasm_Flower> o_0;
<Spider> LOL.
~
Last edited by SugarPesticide; 4th March 2010 at 11:48 PM.
<Don’t be so surprised, Feisty. This is a big event, remember? A big event.>
<Rrrrrrrgh!>
The blood-red equine and jet-black cat exchanged smirks, then turned back to continue watching Fystor bang her furry head on the counter. With each frustrated smack, the abandoned glasses vibrated slightly, their various contents swirling in miniature whirlpools, catching the dim light and scattering it. Her long pointed ears flopped back and forth.
<Bloody – hell,> she spat, each word punctuated by a smack, <why – couldn’t – you – idiots – just – close – the – damn – Casino – like – you’re – supposed – to?>
<Because it’s a big event,> Secloven repeated innocently, winking at his sister.
With a groan, Fystor put a paw to her throbbing head and turned to glare at them. <Must I spell it out for you?> she growled, massaging the injured site. <The mission is supposed to be as safe for the “chosen ones” as possible. The mission is not supposed to be conveniently watched by every freaking person who happens to be in the Casino, many of whom are guaranteed to be on Apolydon’s side and want nothing better than to let the kids fall into his clutches. News flash: this the freaking world is at stake. And somehow, sane people such as myself have the crazy idea that the well-being of the world is just a little higher on the general priority list than the success—>
<Hold it,> Secloven interrupted lazily. <I lost you, Feisty. ‘Cause you were rambling, you know? At first I was like, “What?” and then I was like, “Huh?” And then I got bored, and … ah … something about clutches?>
<Oh, forget it,> Fystor muttered, facepalming. <Reasoning with you bloody Twins is like playing poker with spoons.>
<How so?> Sentarpen asked silkily.
<What d’you mean, “how so?”>
<You used ambiguous wording,> the feline explained, tufted tail twitching. <The way you said it made the sentence have different possible meanings. I mean, would the spoons replace the people, or the chips, or the cards?>
A long silence stretched between them. Somewhere near the Game, a spirit guffawed heartily, breaking through the surface of the sea of excited chatter.
<I can’t believe this,> Fystor whispered incredulously. <I. Can. Not. Believe. This. You don’t care about how many Pokemon here are evil disciples setting out to help himCrush everybody, and yet you’re getting worked up about how you would play poker with spoons?>
<Well, yes,> Sentarpen admitted. <That is the general idea.>
<Yeah,> her brother agreed. <By the way, why are you a Lucario?>
Piercing eyes of silver locked onto sparkling blue irises. <Oh, I dunno,> she replied sarcastically. <Maybe to talk to people here without worrying they’ll blow my freaking head off while my back is turned. What with everyone seeing the action, all of Apolydon’s buddies’ll know who honorable old Fystor’s siding with. Thanks for that, by the way.>
<You’re welcome.>
Scowling in exasperation, Fystor stormed off towards the Game, leaving the Twins behind as she approached the blindingly lit map, its brilliant rays only partially blocked by the flock of Pokemon crowding around it. Just forget about them, she told herself sharply, balling her paws into fists. Concentrate on the task at hand.
Her eyes darted from one Pokemon to the next as she carefully eased her way into the crowd, examining their auras with no real expectation of finding anything; any follower of Apolydon worth paying attention to would no doubt have trained themselves to keep their thoughts and emotions under control. Nevertheless she watched the players and observers intently, and the four ear-like sensors drooping from the back of her head bumped each other gently as she turned her pointed blue-and-black face to and fro, ever so casually looking at the crowd while inside her mind furiously processed the aura’s information. Any one of those – even the bouncing, giggling blue ******* blob, better known as a Phione – could be a potential and perhaps even lethal enemy.
Suddenly an unprotected aura, one still colored by intentions and hopes and yet radiating impressive power, leapt into her vision, and she actually halted in her tracks, surprised at the fact that she’d found anything at all. Letting her eyes scan that area again, she quickly rediscovered it as belonging to a small fox Pokemon, gazing up wistfully at the players of the Game; lifting a small paw, the fox tapped the clawed foot of a metallic, vicious-looking bird, but the Skarmory only laughed, shaking his wickedly sharp head in amusement as he returned his sharp-eyed attention to the map.
An unaligned angel! Fystor realized, watching with newfound interest.
Biting her lip, the angel slunk away from the mass of Pokemon crowding around the Game. Her eyes didn’t seem to have adjusted to the darkness away from the brightly glowing board, though: she smacked right into a tall, dark canine Pokemon who watching the players curiously. She gasped in surprise at the impact, falling back onto her six-tailed rear with a soft thump.
The taller, bipedal fox Pokemon tilted his sleek head in her direction, a scowl forming on his clever face. <Watch it, punk,> he growled darkly, his thick crimson mane bristling.
<S-sorry!> she squeaked, scrambling to her small paws as she tried to back away. In her haste she stumbled, barely catching herself as she kept her wide, nervous eyes fixed on the dark-type, who smirked threateningly. His blood-red claws twitched, and a mischievous glint flashed from the pale blue eyes shining against the shadows of his gray-black fur.
Tough guy, eh? Fystor’s own eyes narrowed. The bugger’ll cause trouble. Better nip this in the bud if I want to get her alone. Rubbing her hands together as if in preparation, she nimbly sidled through the maze of eager watchers, who grumbled vaguely if she blocked their view of the Game but otherwise failed to acknowledge her.
<Kinda young to be hanging out here, aren’t you?> The leering tone in the dark Pokemon’s voice and aura grew more obnoxious as the legendary approached. <Shouldn’t you be cuddling up with your mommy, kid? Don’t want some massive monster meanie munching you into mash, do you?> He paused to watch unease cross her fuzzy face, then added, <By the way, I’m really hungry at the moment … since you’re here, you might as well let me borrow your jugular for a while. And by “a while”, I mean forever.> A glistening tongue snaked from the depths of his jaws to lick his grinning chops.
<Ah-actually, I was just going,> the Vulpix stammered, choking out a nervous laugh. Her large brown eyes flicked to the side, and with a sudden movement she pounced out of the way with a squeal just as the wolf lunged at her; his claws, gleaming like knives, whistled through the space she had just vacated. With a slurp, he swiveled in her direction, ready to strike—
And froze, frowning slightly at the sight of a slender black-and-blue jackal standing directly between him and his intended victim. The Vulpix’s mouth fell open in surprise as she watched her savior place her paws on her shorts-clad hips, fixing the confused wolf with a cool silver stare.
<I’m sorry,> the Lucario said sweetly, not sounding sorry at all. <Am I interrupting something?>
<Yeah.> The would-be devourer slid his tongue over his fangs, causing them to drip with greenish saliva. <The kid was gonna treat me to lunch, and I just couldn’t tell her no. Say,> he said, gazing at her as if only just noticing her, <you’re a pretty hot vixen yourself, girl. Whaddya say you and me get to know each other, maybe squeeze in a little dog-on-dog action?>
<Cool story, bro.> She shot him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. <But Pokemon aren’t allowed eat other Pokemon here. And FYI, it’s not sexy to compare girls to things that you’re about to kill and dissect with your bare hands, so bugger off.>
His eyes lit up demonically. <Hard nut to crack, are you? Excellent. I like my females a little feisty, and you’ll be perfect in the—>
CRUNCH.
A gurgling scream clawed its way from his throat as he seized his broken jawbone, and he dropped to his knees as an endless torrent of paralyzing pain stabbed at him from the nasty crack. The few nearby Game-watchers on the edge of the crowd glanced over at them in curiosity and comparative apathy, as most shrugged and turned back to watch the players beat on each other. By the jackal’s feet, the Vulpix gazed up in awe at her as she dusted off her paws leisurely, still giving him that cool look.
<It’s bad enough when they call me that,> she muttered, <but I’m sure as hell not going to be referred to that by mortals. Oh, get over it,> she snapped, as he unleashed a particularly ugly wail. She twisted a hand around, pointing the spike on the outside of her wrist at him. <Be glad I used my palm and not my fist. Follow me, kid,> she said, looking down at the Vulpix. <We need to talk.>
<T-talk? Um – I don’t want to waste your time or—>
<Just come on, all right? I just want to talk.>
Cautiously, the fox trotted at the taller Pokemon’s feet, following her warily as they made their way over to a more secluded corner of the Casino: in lieu of the recent upswing in the Game’s popularity, this section of the slot machines, with their colored figures glowing eerily from the reels, was practically deserted. The Lucario glanced around briefly to double-check that no one else was nearby, then turned to look down at the Vulpix staring worriedly at her.
<I hope I wasn’t a bother,> the fox said after a moment. The short locks of orange fur curled on her head bobbed downward as she cast her eyes to her paws, shuffling self-consciously. <I’m sorry if I was inconvenient for you somehow.>
<You are young, aren’t you?> the other murmured, speaking mostly to herself.
There was a blink of surprise at the strange comment. <Um, sure?>
<And yet you already have six tails. Mhm, you’re an angel, all right.>
<What? No, I’m not a—>
<Yeah, you are. Don’t try to pretend with me, kid. What’s your name?>
The angel glanced to the side, as if pretending not to hear to question. Her triangular ears twitched in antsy nervousness.
<What’s your name?> The repeated question fairly rang with force.
With a long huff, the Vulpix shifted her vague gaze to the other side. She sighed softly, then said, <Rinka. My name’s Rinka.>
<Rinka, eh? Well, Rinka, let me break this down for you. It is really, really dangerous for a neutral angel to come slinking around this Casino without careful control of his or her thoughts and aura. Didn’t you know that, kid?>
She made a face. <I didn’t even know this place existed, actually. I just wanted to relax for a bit, and then, suddenly, I’m here. Am I dead?>
<No, of course not. That ridiculous carpet cleaner smell would be brimstone if it were.>
<Fair enough.> Slowly she raised her head to meet Fystor’s gaze, eyes glittering in the glow. <But if you don’t mind me asking, who’re you?>
<Well,> Fystor replied, looking down to examine her nails almost apathetically, <that depends. The thing about the Apocalypse is that it’s impossible not to be on a side in the end. So let me put it this way: depending on what you decide to do, I’m either your most trusted ally, or—>
Her eyes flicked back upward, locking Rinka’s in a gaze that sent chills down her spine. With a shiver, the fox suddenly realized that this was no ordinary Lucario, and that somehow, in some way, she had stumbled onto something that she really didn’t want to deal with.
<—Your worst nightmare.> She smirked. <Choose carefully.>
* * *
Author's Note: So the Cerulean arc is finally at an end. About frickin' time. As of this moment, it's taken almost 60 percent of the entire fic. 60. Percent. WTF.
Also, in case you were wondering, the wolf who wanted to eat Rinka was indeed Zoroark. Why use a just-revealed Pokemon, you ask? Because I'm speshul enuff to be teh first person on teh board to use a gen 5 Poke lol it's a badass, and it fit the role perfectly. The fact that "Roark" is part of its name had NOTHING to do with it, I swear. Nope, nothing. Nothing at all. Srsly. >>; In fact I'm fairly sure that the only way I'll end up having screwed over its interpretation is if it turns out to be a female-only species. Then again, this is a PG13 fic, so I guess something like that could be worked around after all ...
Spoiler:- LOL Leaguechat:
Sinnohan Swallow!” I think you got ya species muddled up thar
This fic is seriously getting interesting now. I really like Fystor as a character and whole the whole quest thing has been introduced in. Also all the description on the emotions (Frosti specifically, aww he's so sweet :3) are really in depth which really gives a good insight onto how the Pokémon are feeling. Which i like because its fun reading about what the Pokémon are doing rather than the people XD
And i guessed Zoroark before you said that at the end! I was so pleased with myself after that. Woop.
And congrats on getting it done on time ^^ now you have an extra 2 days becasue March is even longer.
Glad you feel that way, even though the people and Pokemon are equally deep (in my opinion anyway =P). Although I did make quite an effort to characterize the Pokemon, especially the ones belonging to the main characters, so I'll take that as a point to my success there ^^;
Anyway. Remember those "question of the week" things I used to do? Yeah, I know, they were retarded. But I've got another question for you, my reader(s): You know how each title has two parts? There's the main one that shows up in the table of contents, and then the "Japanese" one. They can be fun to think up, but they also look kinda tacked-on and can be potential spoiler material. I've been toying with the idea of getting rid of them, but I wanted to hear whether you guys liked them ...
Anyway. Remember those "question of the week" things I used to do? Yeah, I know, they were retarded. But I've got another question for you, my reader(s): You know how each title has two parts? There's the main one that shows up in the table of contents, and then the "Japanese" one. They can be fun to think up, but they also look kinda tacked-on and can be potential spoiler material. I've been toying with the idea of getting rid of them, but I wanted to hear whether you guys liked them ...
Shows how good my memory is, i don't remeber any 'question of the week's.
But to answer that one, i like it. It's quite unique because most people just put a regular chapter title (like me, who has gone to the boringness of one-word titles). It could be a a good or bad thing that it gives the impression of being like an episode rather than a story. But your titles tend to be funny and not too obvious as to be spoilers so imo, keep them in ^^
Shows how good my memory is, i don't remeber any 'question of the week's.
Then you are very lucky. They were a few questions posed to readers in my attempt to make this more ... shall we say, interactive. One of them was about which character you'd invite to dinner. Yes really. Because I'd been hanging around the Games section too much, that's why. I've gone back and erased them to avoid giving readers an aneurism.
But to answer that one, i like it. It's quite unique because most people just put a regular chapter title (like me, who has gone to the boringness of one-word titles). It could be a good or bad thing that it gives the impression of being like an episode rather than a story. But your titles tend to be funny and not too obvious as to be spoilers so imo, keep them in ^^
Very well. You like them, and the closet readers others have no objections, so they shall stay put. Meeting adjourned. Metaphorically.
So, guess what. In a reverse of my usual expectations, this chapter was actually a great deal shorter than I thought it would be. Of course, the fact that it was originally going to have more than two scenes in it helps. But still ... only eight pages is like, return-to-noob-days length. For me, anyway. Then again, maybe it adds to the "power" of what happens in this one. Eh, who knows. Either way, it should make those of you who're more into the Poke-centric plotlines happy. (SD, that includes you. LOL.)
Oh yeah, guess what almost ruined everything. TV MOTHERLOVING TROPES. Here's the laydown: browsing through the horror tropes for inspiration for a short horror fic I've been toying with (and admittedly for bits and pieces of this one, as will be demonstrated below) can be fun. Having a couple of nightmares as a result is less fun. Having an onslaught of said nightmares, made extremely realistic due to flu-induced delusions, is about as far from fun as you can get. Try writing when you're recovering from that, I dare you.
In other ramblings news, thread views are OVER NINE THOUSAND~! Whoo, confetti, et cetera. Thanks closet readers, ILU too. <3
*insert obligatory HGSS comment here*
* * *
Chapter Twenty-One: Crazy Train (Aim to Be the Best! Frosti's Anger!)
“You wanted to see me, Officer?”
“I’ll cut to the chase, Agent. Your original priority is on the loose again.”
In the darkness, the young man’s eyes flashed in excitement. “Finally, back to some real excitement,” he joked, shifting slightly as if eager to take on the challenge. And in truth, he was. He had been informed on his arrival that his target had already been taken out by some League member and an upstart, and since then boredom had assaulted him in spite of his quest to find something to do – until now.
“It’s no laughing matter,” Jenny said sternly. “Look at this. The prisoner utterly destroyed it.” She held up a slashed hunk of metal, almost in distaste. Seeing the other’s confusion, she explained, “It’s the security camera for that section of the cells. There were holes punched in the wall below it; we’re guessing he climbed up to it.” Reaching over with one drawn hand, she drew the blinds, allowing the light and urban scenery into the strictly angular office. “Holes rimmed with blood, so we can guess how he was cleaning his claws of the prison stench. Agent, this is serious. This man is a serial killer, as you of all people should know. A person of his description was reported heading in the direction of Route Five. Your mission is back on. Now do us proud; go and get your man.”
“Okay, I’m on it.” Nodding deeply to the Officer, he had to swivel around so she wouldn’t see the excited grin on his face as he fished through his pockets for a pair of sunglasses. “Now – time to find out how our Rocket …” He put them on, obscuring his eyes in a cool manner. “… took off.”
* * *
<YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH—>
Crunch.
<Ugh.>
The small audience winced in unison as it watched Perry Jack slide down the tree trunk with agonizing slowness, until he finally flopped to the ground, wings spreading limply to either side. His eyes fluttered almost girlishly, and a faint groan escaped his half-open beak.
“Perry!” Lightning exclaimed, rushing to his fallen Spearow’s side. Carefully he knelt at his side, patting his feathery head. “Sorry, Perry, sorry … I wasn’t thinking that there’d be trees in the way … we should’ve started with simpler flight patterns …”
<Eh…> Perry Jack blinked vaguely. <S’all right, son … swig o’ rum ‘n’ I’ll be right ‘s rain …>
Leaf, watching from her position on a log some distance away, sighed as she watched the blonde comfort his Pokemon, while Peach comforted him from her usual position on his shoulder, patting his head in an attempt to alleviate his distress. If things had turned out differently, she thought despondently, remembering yet again the tortured, betrayed look in Paris’s eyes, that could’ve been me.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to her own Pokemon, situated in another nearby clearing as they practiced their new training method that Cheri had suggested. It wasn’t one that Leaf particularly approved of, especially considering her new moral outlook, but neither Frosti nor Parvarti had objected to it – Parvati had practically bounced with excitement upon hearing the bee’s proposal – so she reluctantly allowed them to go through with it, on the condition that she could halt their training immediately if things became too violent. She remembered a strange, incredulous look pass over the bee’s face, as if in disbelief as to Leaf’s authority over such things, before the Pokemon had finally accepted the terms.
Currently, Parvati was scampering up into the emerald leaves of a convenient tree, narrowly avoiding Cheri’s thrusting spear; not missing a beat, the Beedrill used the momentum to turn sharply on one foot, nicking Frosti’s tail with the outstretched weapon. With a yelp the lizard leapt back, rubbing his injured appendage as a trickle of blood began to drip from it. Taking advantage of his momentary pause, Cheri then half-closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to further sharpen her focus.
Frosti frowned, then opened his mouth wide, spewing a barrage of small, dancing flames. The Beedrill’s eyes quickly snapped open, however, and with ease she buzzed away on her fragile-looking wings.
<C’mon, that’s no fair!> he called after her, tilting his head upward as he watched her fly about above him.
<No fair?> Cheri laughed. <But it is perfectly fair to use one’s natural abilities. In fact, it would be rather … ungrateful of me, I suppose … if I decided not to use them, don’t you agree?>
Saying such, she spat another String Shot at him; in response he managed to smack it with his tail, causing the sticky projectile not only to miss its intended target of his feet, but also to stem the flow of blood droplets oozing from his wound. Blinking in surprise, he glanced at it, then grinned up triumphantly at Cheri, only to get an eyeful of another sticky string.
<I was not expecting that,> she remarked, flexing her arms while he sputtered indignantly below. <But you were lucky. In battle, one must make one’s own luck—>
<Sha-ZAM!>
In an explosion of leaves from the green canopy, Parvati leapt from her branch and past Cheri’s still hovering form, very loudly smacking her small paws together right in front of the bug’s face. She then soared through the air for a moment before landing on the ground with feline ease, and swiveled around to see the results of her surprise ambush … but the grin slid off her face when she realized that, somehow, nothing had happened.
<It does not work if your foe was already expecting it,> Cheri explained, tilting her head in amusement. <Good try, though.>
With a sudden drone of her wings she put on a burst of speed, raising her spears as she dived sharply downward toward the wide-eyed cat. Parvati immediately scampered out of the Beedrill’s path; looking over her shoulder at her pursuer, she failed to notice where she was going until she tripped right over an outstretched, flaming tail.
THUMP!
Sputtering on a mouthful of dirt, the Meowth jumped to her feet again, eyes narrowing as the Beedrill swooped down upon her. Muttering to herself, the cat hastily shuffled her paws over each other in a hasty, impromptu dance, just as Cheri was looming above her, spears prepared to strike … Abruptly Parvati halted, opened her mouth wide, and unleashed a hacking wheeze and a massive cloud of putrid, ashy smoke to go with it, obscuring Cheri’s vision. The bug’s twin stabs into the smoke proved futile, and her eyes watered slightly as she coughed a couple of times.
<That … that …> Frosti stammered, staring in astonishment as Parvarti darted out of the cloud, her fur smudged with dirty coal gray. <That’s my Smokescreen!>
<Well, yeah.> The Meowth paused to lick a dirty paw, letting her pink tongue cleanse the tan fur. <It’s a special dance thingy. Mom told me that Dad could do it, too. It’s really cool, I think.>
He nodded vaguely, glancing about in his brief time-out – fighting wouldn’t resume until Parvati had finished her bath or Cheri had found her way out of the smoke, if at all. A yawn forced its way out of his mouth; this training method took more out of him than he would’ve guessed.
”It’s called Assist, Naaaarrrrrrrgh. A sneaky move where the bugger using it uses a move that one of its teammates knows. It’s been bred onto her, same as your dearly beloved Lapras. She also knows Tail Whip and Charm. Personally, I think that means her daddy was really naughty.”
Glancing around, Frosti noticed his trainer sitting nearby, scrolling through the unseen screen of her snarky Pokedex. To his own surprise, a small smile tweaked the corners of his mouth. Sitting there on that log, wearing a thoughtful expression as her eyes moved to and fro, she reminded him strongly of that day they’d first met, when she’d named him on Pallet Beach. Weren’t we friends then? he wondered, narrowing his eyes slightly in thought. We must’ve been … We were already talking about how far we were going to go in the League. Well, she was talking, at least … I was just glad she was there to back me up.
Then Leaf glanced up, her eyes meeting Frosti’s briefly before returning to the Pokedex; her mouth creased downward in a slight frown. With a shiver he turned away, forcing himself to put the expression on her face out of his mind as he tried to focus instead on the sight of Cheri, who had finally found her way out of the smoky cloud and was now coughing loudly. But the memory had firmly set itself in his brain.
She frowned at me.
Cheri’s body heaved with another wheeze before she flexed her arms again, eyes narrowing in embarrassment as she looked from one teammate to the other. <I … I regret what I said about natural abilities,> she admitted, her voice hoarse with coughing. <You were absolutely right, Frosti. It really is not fair.>
Parvati giggled cheekily, and even Frosti managed a weak grin.
<Mm, it’s not him. Just some rookies.>
The Charmander froze and turned his head sharply toward the source of the whisper, situated somewhere in the thick bushes surrounding the clearing. <Who said that?>
<I did. I mean, whoops! Nobody said anything! Nobody. Ahahaha. Er …>
Frowning, Frosti exchanged glances with Parvati, who looked puzzled, and Cheri, who returned his look with a knowing nod. Together the lizard and bee cautiously approached the place where the mysterious speaker seemed to be, with the uncertain cat padding close behind. Reaching the scraggly mess of green, Cheri stabbed in and pulled the bushes apart while Frosti hurled himself headlong toward the newly formed space, only to crash into an inconveniently placed tree.
<What?> Parvati tilted her head to the side in confusion. <Where’d he go?>
Dazed, Frosti shakily pulled himself back onto his feet, rubbing his head. <He couldn’t have gone anywhere,> he said, his voice slightly slurred. <We would’ve heard him, right?>
<Of course.> Cheri tapped her chin thoughtfully with the tip of her stinger. Then her ruby eyes glinted in some sort of realization. <Unless …>
She trailed off. Waiting to hear the rest of her unfinished sentence, the other two looked over at her, only to gasp in astonishment at the sight of nothing but thin air in the place where the bee had just been standing a second ago.
<Cheri?> Parvati called nervously, glancing around. <Cheri?>
The Charmander shook his head once more to clear it. It was becoming apparent that this incident was not due to any concussion he might have received.
<Interesting.>
The two swiveled around, squealing in shock; standing behind them was none other than Cheri herself, looking down at herself with interest and more than a little amusement. Then her eyes flashed, her wings twitched, and she half hurled herself, half flew into the forest with an almost invisible speed.
Frosti glanced at Parvati.
Parvati glanced at Frosti.
Both of them glanced, rather uncertainly, in the direction that Cheri had gone.
<… She couldn’t do that before, right?> Frosti asked finally, hoping he wasn’t going completely nuts.
<I doubt it.> Parvati shrugged.
<She won’t catch him,> a voice chuckled. <Sorry to burst your bubble.>
Startled, they turned their gazes upward in time to see a taller, lanky shape drop out of the branches above them, landing on its long-toed feet with spider-like ease. The new Pokemon then straightened up out of her half-crouching position, giving them a full view of her physique. Her short, fuzzy fur was a golden yellow, broken only by the brown shirt-like formation coating her chest and shoulders. Above her pointed face, twin triangular ears were pricked to attention. With a short exhalation she blew a strangely long forelock of hair out of her face, before fixing the two smaller Pokemon with a pair of slanted green eyes.
<Um, hi,> Parvati said, blinking uncertainly. <Were you watching us that whole time?>
<Naturally.> The Pokemon swatted her hair out of her face again. <I even saw the green lizard before he took off. He didn’t mean any harm, but he’s faster than your Beedrill buddy. She’ll be lucky if she even gets a glimpse from him, much less an explanation.> Her gaze flicked to Frosti, and she snorted. <But at least she has a slim chance.>
Frosti frowned, folding his arms. <And what’s that supposed to mean?>
<I’ve been watching you guys, remember?> The stranger examined her fingernails idly. <You’re all just rookies, really. Didn’t start out until lately, I’m guessing? Yeah, that’s what I thought. She shows a little promise, that Beedrill does, but none of you are really any good. Especially you, Charmander.>
His lips parted unconsciously, exposing the tips of his fangs, as he balled his hands into fists. Who does this person think she is? he thought angrily, glaring at her through narrowed eyes. It’s one thing for Leaf to consider me weak – we’ve been together since the beginning – but for her to pass judgment on me isn’t gonna fly.
<Oh dear, I seem to have struck a nerve.> The Pokemon smirked at him, as if she could hear his heart’s rhythm increasing to the faster beat of a battle frenzy.
“I thought that was MY job, my dear freak. Let’s see how my analysis grabs you. Abra, the Snore Pokemon. Gender is Female. Height is You Hit Puberty, Really? Weight is Nope, It’s Just Anorexic. This is one of those mystic Psychic freaks that you should, above anything else, feel free to point and laugh at. It’s so retarded it has to sleep for eighteen hours just to keep its mental powers at mediocre level! That’s seventy-five percent of the day wasted snoozing. The ironic thing about this is, it can’t even use those powers without some serious training! All it can do is randomly teleport because it’s a moron. That’s a failtastic feat if I ever saw one, believe you me.”
<Your machine brings up a good point,> the Abra admitted as she gestured toward the Pokedex without looking at it, surprising everyone. <But it assumes that I’m like other Abra, and so is incorrect. What’s your issue, lizard?> she asked suddenly, snapping her green gaze towards him. <Oh, wait, don’t tell me. You’ve got no ambition. You’re perfectly content to be some human’s slave without any benefits in it for you. Idiocy at its finest.>
A growl escaped his throat, to Parvati’s surprise; sensing a brawl, the Meowth quickly slunk away, darting for a safer position beside Leaf’s feet. She gazed up at the girl, who was watching the two remaining Pokemon intently, as if waiting for something.
<They called you Frosti,> the Abra said, beginning to walk back and forth in front of him slowly, tauntingly, waving her thick tail to and fro. <Ha, fits you. Stupid name for a stupid brute. Oh, but you don’t know my name! Let me change that for you; the loser of a battle should always know the identity the one who defeated him. I am Abigail, the most unique among all Abra.> She snapped her fingers dramatically, sending a brief series of sparks glittering above her hand. <Most of my species are cowardly idiots, like you. But I … I am different.>
Her voice sounded garbled and faint to him behind the roaring that pounded in his mind. The feelings he had tried so hard to restrain, the rage, the terror, the indignant need to prove himself, flooded through his being. Training had left him too tired to resist them any longer, yet the adrenaline pouring through his veins gave him the strength to act on those impulses. Only his ever-present patience remained to give his reason the upper hand in the internal struggle. And his patience was fast running out.
<Abra are only content to meditate and teleport.> Abigail’s voice came out in a rush, as if she had been dying to say this for some time. <But that Zen stuff isn’t for me. Mind power is vastly overrated. Manipulate five dimensions at once? No. Give me a firm control over these three dimensions any day. Fighting types have that down, and so will I, even if I have to defeat every pathetic wea—>
SLAM! went the brightly glowing tail, cutting off the rest of words. Surprised at Frosti’s sudden assault, Abigail wheezed as the tail knocked the breath out of her, slamming her into the ground with an audible, wince-inducing thud.
<What right do you have to call me pathetic?> Frosti snarled, looming over her with revenge sparkling like stars in his black eyes.
Grunting, Abigail thrust her hand sharply upward, curling her stubby fingers into a fist that shimmered with some strange power, distorting the air around it. As it collided with Frosti’s gut, the energy around her fist suddenly flared a lively yellow color, and the Charmander hissed in surprise as he felt strength suddenly and inexplicably drain from him. Yet even as he doubled over and his vision wavered, he realized dimly that his defeat would only strengthen his fear and Abigail’s claim: that he was useless, worthless, powerless. Inhaling sharply, he let a surge of determination sharpen his focus, letting it channel his rage into strength and his fury into willpower. I won’t prove her right! he promised himself with a feral growl. Never!
Scrambling to her long-toed feet, Abigail paused, brushing her forelock out of her eyes irritably before returning her attention to Frosti, preparing another punch – and then he looked up at her, very slowly, and she gaped in astonishment at the change that had come over him. His tail flame, once relatively small and shimmering with orange and gold, now hissed with a new combination of blue and white so brilliantly bright that it burned the eyes, swelling to almost double its original size with a violent hissing and crackling. And his eyes, too, had turned from a soft black to an almost violent shade of dark blue, which seemed to flicker as if there were a fire shining behind them.
Then those eyes caught sight of her, and a horrible shadow crossed his face: a demonic grin lit up his eyes even further, and they narrowed to deathly thin slits … his mouth widened with horrific slowness, revealing elongating teeth resembling snake fangs, dripping with saliva that sparkled like poison. Behind those teeth his pink tongue lolled about, thrashing like some deformed, hairless creature in a cage, attempting to break free from imprisonment.
Abigail recoiled in horror, tripping over her own feet as this nightmare approached. Her mind worked furiously, trying to come up with some option, but it was no use, not with that thing standing right there and grinning as if he knew there was nowhere she could run …
And then, suddenly, it was over: his fangs shrank; his tongue settled; his eyes returned to their original size, though they still flickered with that unnatural blue. He simply glared at her. She couldn’t move even then, not with the memory of that horrific face still haunting her mind. All she could do was keep her eyes on him and hope against hope that his gums wouldn’t curl back again, like a curtain concealing the final act of some twisted performance.
His mouth opened.
<I’m not weak.>
A barrage of blue-white flames poured from his jaws, wrapping themselves around Abigail’s limbs almost lovingly, caressing fingers that would devour all they touched. A scream tore itself from her throat as her fuzz caught fire, and she at last broke free from her terror-induced paralysis, throwing herself to the ground and rolling about madly in an attempt to suffocate the destructive flames. Frosti only ceased his assault to watch his foe flail about in agony, and a dark smile crept across his face as he laughed triumphantly.
<Sorry, he was too fast, I couldn’t catch – Frosti, what are you doing?>
He glanced around lazily to see an exhausted Cheri stumbling out of the forest, ruby eyes wide at the sight of the thrashing Abra. Something stirred in Frosti’s mind as the Beedrill hurried towards him, staring at him with a strange look. <What does it look like I’m doing?> he laughed, as Abigail’s shriek increased another couple of decibels. <She was mocking me. So I taught her a lesson.> She shouldn’t be looking at me that way. I’m strong!
“Frosti, cut it out!” Leaf’s call seemed to be coming from a distance. “Stop hurting the poor thing, leave her alone!”
<Enough is enough!> Cheri snapped, pointing a spear at him. <Murdering a foe when he or she is beneath you is dishonorable, Frosti! Stem the flow, let it go!>
He blinked and, quite suddenly, it was all over. At the tip of his tail, the flames abruptly died down, flickering in their usual sunny colors. His eyes, black once more, stared at her in confusion. With a soft hiss, the fire surrounding Abigail dissipated into thin air, and she collapsed in the dirt, gasping for breath as tears stung her burnt face. He glanced at her, then at Cheri, then at Leaf, who stared back at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
<What …?> he asked, then trailed off. Why was he so out of breath? Why was that Abra lying at his feet?
“See, I told you he’d use those moves soon, Naaaarrrrrrrgh. Though I’m really surprised at how well he did them, considering him. I didn’t think Dragon Rage could turn into a Vortex of Hellish Doom like that. Just goes to show that even Pokedexes learn things, in spite of the fact that I know more than all of you combined, so ha.”
The Charmander turned his gaze around in a circle, staring at the patterns of shimmering heat waves dancing in the air around the Abra and himself. His nostrils twitched at the scents they carried. Blood. Fire. Smoke. Fear. Hatred.
Blood.
Completing the circle, his gaze returned to Cheri, who had not moved since he had looked away. He wondered at her motionless stance. <Why’re you standing like that?> he asked, then trailed away as a strange thought occurred to him. The Abra was at his feet. The stench of charred flesh belonged to her. His eyes widened as he put two and two together.
It was Cheri who coldly voiced his fear. <You almost killed her.>
<But … but I …> He stared at his paws in horror, as if they might reach up to strangle him. <But I didn’t! I couldn’t have, I was … I didn’t!> His head snapped around in everyone’s direction; a pleading look shone in his eyes, begging them to tell him he was right, that this was somehow just an accident.
<I’m sorry!> he moaned, his eyes welling up with tears as the realization of his guilt stung him fully. <I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t … I didn’t want …> A lump threatened to obstruct his throat, and he swallowed it painfully. <I didn’t … I …>
<It is far more serious than you realize,> Cheri hissed, and Frosti suddenly realized what the strange look in her eyes was, the look that he’d never, ever seen there before.
Pure fear.
<Cheri?> he whimpered.
For a long, tense moment, she didn’t answer him. Instead she continued to stare back at him, perhaps searching for whatever had sent him careening into his attack. Please, please, just tell me what it is, he pleaded silently, hoping she could hear his heartfelt request. I can’t feel like this anymore. I need to know what’s wrong with me. Tell me.
When she finally spoke, however, he instantly wished she hadn’t.
Either way, it should make those of you who're more into the Poke-centric plotlines happy. (SD, that includes you. LOL.)
Woo! XD
That reminds me, i'm planning on another one-shot to do at some point in the near future. A Pokémon POV with lots of evilness.
I've never seen such a short chapter from you in my life! Not that i'm complaining, it did make it very precise and dramatic - to the point. It's still more than me though, i'm sticking to a rigid 6-page-per-chapter which just looks noob compared to how much you're capable of.
I loved the opening with Perry. Classic sliding down tree very slowly is pure genius.
All the training stuff was refreshing too, again its good to see how they're all getting on. Especially Frosti Cliffhangers should be illegal.
How do you do it?
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Originally Posted by darkdragontamer
Cliffhangers should be illegal.
