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Thread: Pirate of the Golden Grumpig PG-13

  1. #1
    Join Date
    Aug 2011

    Default Pirate of the Golden Grumpig PG-13

    Case 1: Don’t You Beedrill It

    Before a pirate is nothing but the seas and the endless possibilities of both adventure and profit. Perhaps they crave to merely cut a swathe of destruction or perhaps they can satiated with stuffing their ships of gold. And perhaps they are just mad. The coattails of the pirate’s black and purple coat fluttered in the Kalos wind as he overlooked from the vantage point of the Hotel Richisme. The seas were concrete buildings stretching out before and up to the sky. The ship pawed at the ground eager to get going. The pirate hummed as the he tapped the leather boots on the tar roof. The canine Pokémon companion sensed his partner’s hesitation. Had they really thought about this thoroughly enough? There was no going back once they began. The pirate started stroking the golden mane of his partner. The Pokémon licked his trainer’s chin with a rough sandpaper tongue and barked softly in response.

    “You’re right old friend. It’s not like we have anything left to lose.”
    The Lumiose City Museum stood as a silver beacon among the midnight streets of North Boulevard. The pirate’s Pokémon stood on the roof of the building adjacent to them, tilting his nose up and down as if measuring the very wind around him. The Pokémon backed up slowly, his eyes narrowed with the intense thought and concentration required for such a leap. He stumbled slightly on his right foreleg-the wooden shaft serving as his paw slipping slightly on the accumulated pollen of the spring. The pirate tugged on his Pokémon’s mane slightly.

    “Are you confidant enough for this, Blaz?” The Pokémon humphed slightly and his upper lip curled up slightly.

    “All right, all right you old war-ponyta. Just don’t drop me. This suit is good, but I doubt it will keep me from falling to my death.” He laughed coldly as if trying to be genuinely amused at his own joke but came out as more of a reflex. The Pokémon’s forelegs crouched slightly and his hindquarters wiggled as it wound up for pounce. He galloped forward, his wooden leg clacking against the concrete roof underneath them. With great thrust from the edge, he soared into the open night air, the furry tassels around his legs flaring out like tiny wings underneath its cream colored belly. The pair hovered slightly as it gently glided towards the silver roof of the Lumiose Museum.

    The flight was short lived as the Pokémon’s paws touched the very edge of the slick tile roof. He shoved his hind legs forward to maneuver itself towards the rooftop. Both of them heard a small sharp crack and the Pokémon felt his right shoulder slump suddenly underneath itself. The Pokémon curled backward towards the street below. The pirate grabbed the sides of his Pokémon even as his own body was dangling downward. Uttering an apology, he swung his weight towards the wall with his partner’s sides still clutched tightly in its master’s metallic grip. There was a slight mechanic whir from his legs as he pushed as hard as the suit would allow; arching up and over back on solid ground. His legs nearly folded into his stomach as the Pokémon’s weight crashed on top of him. The Pokémon gasped and bounced off his master. He pawed at the crumpled form with its one good leg until he had accidentally knocked off a pokeball from the pirate’s shoulder sash.

    There was a brief flash of light as the Pokémon emerged. It was a rotund Pokémon with dark grey legs and a bouncy yellow belly. It wiggled its snout trying to get its bearings from the rude awakening it had just received. The pirate let out a great moan as he forced himself to a seating position. The newly released Grumpig saw his master’s state and pulled its curly ears in horror, mouth dropped open and eyes nearly white with panic. He pulled on his master’s arms and legs and spouted out flustered babble to a woozy pirate.
    “That will do, Phantom. The suit still works just fine. What of you, Blaz?” He dragged himself over and found that Blaz’ peg-leg had splintered at the base. How odd, he thought. He had just fitted Blaz with a new leg, it shouldn’t have broken like this. He plucked a second pokeball from his belt and called forth a third Pokémon.

    “Time to shine, Silver!” A little egg shaped Pokémon bounced towards the sky. Her little oval shaped wings shimmered even in this dim of a night. She fluttered downward and clicked its small feet together signaling it was rearing to perform its task. The pirate opened its coat and tugged open a white lined pocket. From the inside he pulled out a little wireless headset and microphone. He fitted it on the Togetic’s head and tested his own microphone connected to his mask.
    “Toki toki toki tick tock”, Silver affirmed as she fluttered towards the large ventilation opening and squeezed herself inside with Phantom following right behind her. It was a bit of a tight fit for the pig Pokémon to follow, even after he had doused himself in Goodra slime. He grumbled the whole time about his only view was the round white rear of Silver. Silver shimmed slowly but in a rhythmic fashion, oscillating her body to her own beat.

    “Tick tock, tick tock, toki toki tock” she sung. Phantom snorted and drummed his golden tri pointed hooves in front of him. He grumbled being forced to crawling on his elbows and knees and the Togetic going at practically a Slugma’s pace.
    “Tick tock, toil toki tock.” Phantom’s hooves dug into the metal sheathing and his eyes flashed an icy purple. Silver was shoved forward with a blast of psychic power and slammed against a grating before bouncing backwards slightly. The vent around them rumbled from the reverberations; weaving and bucking all around him. The access door underneath Grumpig popped open and he plummeted from the high ceiling. His snout just stopped short of the ground. Silver had managed to grab Phantom by the base of his tail and was fluttering her wings frantically. Phantom was dropped on his face as Silver’s little arms gave out. Silver’s face puffed up and she was practically turning crimson with annoyance. Their master’s voice crackled over the headset.
    “Are you two there yet? I got Blaz’ leg fixed. We’re ready to move.” Silver retreated the small electric sparks that were starting to surround her and moved to their destination.

    Silver peeked inside the door labeled Security. There was at least more than a dozen monitors casting their eerie blue glow into the room. There was desk and chair in there that she could see, though there was no occupant. The two pulled the door open easily as they shifted inside. Silver helped herself onto the chair and took a good hard look at each monitor. She had even checked the computer controls before she uttered her findings into the microphone.
    “He didn’t waste much time. Phantom, you know what to do. Stay inside there until I give the word.”

    The pirate made his way over to one of the large skylights that had been installed recently. Blaz slowly lowered his head towards the latch that would be seen underneath. His mouth opened just slightly and a small ember began to form in his throat. It wasn’t going to be easy for such a large fire type Pokémon like him to create so focused a flame at least for a Pokémon of his experience. Most fire types long forgot Ember by this time. Ember was a good training move for young Pokémon, but fairly useless afterwards. The small flame began to circle around the epoxy until it was starting to soften and become more pliable. Blaz backed away and the pirate hefted up the light. He gently placed it down while handing one end of the rope to Blaz. Blaz gripped it in his mouth and held it firm as the pirate lowered himself down.

    He hung slightly in the air and scanned the room below. There was a faint static light just barely visible from the room to the right. He was eerily silent and he did feel a little silly dangling there like a Spinarak waiting for its prey. There was a clash of metal and the light was suddenly spirited away from the room. The pirate dropped to the floor and slunk into the room that had been previously illuminated.

    He had to be quick though by the heavy steps he had heard exiting the room, he doubted the other was very fleet of foot. The pirate ignored all the gems and rare Kanto coins, forcing his attention to the centerpiece of the exhibition. In the dark it was an unsettling thing; a mutilated metallic corpse propped up inside the glass case. The armor within was a faint golden color modeled after the Pokémon Beedrill. The large eyes in the helmet had started to crack and the chainmail underneath was ragged and rusty with age. The front of the case was slightly open. He pulled penlight from his sleeve and shined it on the lock. It lay there neatly on the floor in front of him with the key still inside the lock. His light moved to the breastplate towards the shining black stripes on onyx stones. He clicked the lead of the light until it turned with a pallid blue. He shined it on the six stones adorned across the front slowly focusing each one under the light. When he came to the last two, the light did not glimmer as brilliantly as the other four. In fact they came out dull like frosted glass. Turning the light back to white, he saw that the decorative fasteners had been chipped and very recently.

    “He didn’t waste time, at all. Hmm, what is this?”
    “Put your hands up where I can see them!” The pirate turned around slowly as a bright light shone in his eyes. Even under the great light, the other man found it difficult to see any features under the large wide brimmed tri corner hat the pirate wore and the long snout on his mask obscured his mouth. The night watchman grinned smugly though also confused.

    “Well what do we have here? Some crazy Team Pirate member or something? Heh what a lame name.” He heard a laugh suddenly erupt in the room from behind him. It was low and shifted between mirth and sorrow. He turned around and felt a fist in his gut. The pirate clamped a cloth over the watchman’s mouth and held firm until the guard became as limp as ditto in his hands. The pirate let him fall to the floor unceremoniously, rather annoyed at this turn of events.
    “Silver, why didn’t you tell me he was heading my way?” he barked into the mike. Silver scratched her neck and uttered confusion.
    “What do you mean you didn’t see him? I can see the camera from down here. Huh? You can’t see me? Heh, I cannot believe I was so sloppy. Fine. We’ve got thirty minutes before the Sleep Powder wears off. Time to grab what I came here for.” He checked the time on the timepiece installed to his cuff. 12:45.

    “Excuse me miss, but can you not have your feet against the wall?” the security guard asked the young man sitting in the Baggage Checkout Area. Charles Shrine opened one lucid blue eye and curled his long narrow legs against his chest. With one steady movement he pushed himself off the bench in one simple backflip. He staggered a little from the sudden rush of blood leaving his head. He watched the guard walk away and sat cross-legged on the cushioned bench. Charles brushed back his curly golden locks with calloused hands only for them to fall back forward in a dainty though unruly mop. His fair complexion (though some would describe it as doll-like) had finally returned to his cherubic face and he began to rock in his seat. He had stopped looking at the Clock on his Xtransciever who knows how long ago and gotten frustrated at the number of voice mails he had left on his sister’s cell phone.

    Perhaps it was his own fault he was sitting here getting numb in the rear when he could be enjoying a nice hot bath at the Hotel Richisme, he started to reason. He hadn’t accounted for the noticeable time difference between Kalos and Johto regions. Charles did not think it would be too much of an inconvenience for a Noctowl like his sister, Jen. Maybe she was on a case and couldn’t be bothered. No, she would have left a voicemail for him if she had. His knees began to twitch and started pacing. Charles had to do something. He couldn’t take another minute of these four walls and none of the food stations were open. But a taxi was out of the question since he only had a few Johto pokedollars in his wallet and just his luck the exchange booth wasn’t open.

    He walked outside and tightened his backpack against him. Most of his things had already been shipped home save for a few souvenirs and snacks for the flight. He plucked out a pokeball from his backpack and with two fingers he flicked it into the air. A goat-shaped Pokémon appeared with brilliant viridian foliage along its back and slick ebony horns twisting from her stout head.
    “Go go goat!” Gogoat yawned. Her leaves rustled as she stretched downward and shook herself awake.

    “Well nice to see one of us got sleep. You up for a run? I would like to see something other than white walls.” Gogoat glanced upwards at the brilliant moon above them and smirked.

    The wind against Charles’ face was cool, but savory at the same time. It was a different feeling than the subtle sweetness of Johto or the brisk sharp taste of Kanto that he had been accustomed to for the past two years. He filled with lungs with the aromatic Kalos air and thought how much he was going to enjoy his much needed rest.

    The streets were quite empty even at this hour. Second only to Castelia City in Unova, Lumoise was the heart of nightlife of Kalos. There should hjave still been cafés open and gentle music playing from their slightly open doors. There should still be lovers partaking in the romantic atmosphere of the night. The sky was clear and even the starts seemed to outshine Prism Tower tonight. Charles tugged the horns of Gogoat slightly back and without further instruction, his Pokémon slowed down to a steady walk. Had he been gone that long for the city possess such an essence of uneasiness akin to Lavender Town? His Gogoat huffed sensing her trainer’s discomfort. They were now on North Boulevard and standing before the Lumiose Museum of Art. 1:15.

    A brilliant red and blue banner had been stretched across the front awning of the museum. “The Kanto Collection: on Limited Engagement.” Charles smacked his tongue and smiled a little. He remembered something in the monthly Lumiose Museum magazine he was subscribed to mentioning this before. According to the banner, the collection would be open to the public tomorrow. Perhaps he could score a ticket and see how the museum displayed the artifacts. It shouldn’t be too hard, provided a certain curator remembered him.
    His reverie was interrupted by a sudden loud clang on the metallic awning. A great beast suddenly sprung forward from above them and nearly collided with the pair. They were saved only by Charles tapping his Gogoat’s left ear slightly and she dashed backwards underneath the safety of the canopy. The other shape had glanced back at them though the only thing clear was a single sharp brown eye. It began to dash away towards the opposite end of the boulevard though Charles noticed it hobbled with a strange awkward gait.
    The image was brief as it had bounded away; but it had changed to pass underneath a streetlight. It was an Arcanine. An Arcanine in Kalos was rare and it had a rider. It was a bulky figure, dressed in a long black and purple coat with a tri-corner hat. Charles patted Gogoat’s shoulder and motioned for her to pursue the Pokémon. A pirate was something he just had to look at further. That and he could inform the fellow that his costume terribly clashed with his partner.
    The purple pirate had heard the sound of hooves fast approaching them from behind. He grinned slightly though Blaz huffed in annoyance. It growled to its master asking if it should subdue their pursuer with a well-placed Flamethrower.
    “Don’t be so vulgar, even if you do wear an eye patch and peg leg these days”, the pirate laughed. Charles was right at their heels.

    “Hey! Don’t you know there’s a speed limit in this district?” Charles huffed to the other rider. The rider jerked back on the mane on Blaz and the Pokémon obeyed the command. Charles dove to the side of his Pokémon to keep from getting hit by the Arcanine’s hind legs as he spun around perfectly. he was now speeding off in a blur towards the avenues. Charles was not going to be steered off that easily. He snatched a pokeball from his denim coat and tossed it upward as he tugged his Gogoat towards the alleys. The Pokémon that now appeared bounced on its stubby clawed legs and snapped its massive jaws.

    “Klaptrap, Rock Polish and halt that Arcanine!” The Tyrunt snapped its jaws eagerly and rubbed its legs with its twiggy arms its rapid motions until its rocky skin practically glowed with brilliance.

    The pirate looked back hearing an eager chant in a high pitched grunt, “Get! Get! Get! Bite! Bite! Bite!” The Tyrunt was fast on the Arcanine’s heel and the avenue was getting narrow. Blaz attempted to skirt around the rock dinosaur and confuse it, but a pair of horns famed into his side and knocked him almost completely off its balance. It felt a sudden drop of energy and it staggered almost into the water channel.
    Charles’ Gogoat bounced back, her horns glowing with renewed energy. Klaptrap slammed its little body on the opposite side and both Arcanine and his rider tumbled forward. The pirate was more nimble than his partner as the pirate was able to roll back onto his feet and in the same motion recalled his Pokémon before it could be further harmed. he darted into the alley attempting to escape into the shadows.

    The pirate’s hands and toes of its boots glowed and leapt upwards onto the building wall. Like a Spinarak he deftly scaled the wall until he was free and clear on the roof. He had his hand on another pokeball.
    “Don’t try it. I’ve had better opponents in Snow Toss in the Pokeathalon”, Charles pronounced proudly. Charles stood on the opposite end on the roof with his Tyrunt eagerly bounding on one adjacent side and his Gogoat on the other. In the shine of Prism Tower, Charles was about get a better look at the one he had been chasing. A mask and long curly pink locks of hair concealed most of the facial features save for a crooked mad little smile. The mask had two black pearls on its nose and porcine black ears.

    “You’re quite persistent aren’t you? I’d be careful about that. It can lead to…unfortunate results”, the pirate replied in a silky deep feminine voice. Charles moved steadily closer to his opponent, ready to pounce if need be. He had a small Taser in his back pocket. He hoped it still had some charge left, he hadn’t exactly used it since Big Sis had given it to him-at least not on purpose. The pirate hadn’t moved. Suddenly she leaned backwards and fell down ten stories into the alley. Charles had dashed over the side and looked downwards. Charles was unsure what had just occurred. Gogoat assisted him down the building until they arrived in the alley where the pirate should have plunged to her death. There was no body-nothing. Where could she have gone?
    Charles was suddenly blinded as an officer shone a brilliant light in his eyes.

    “All right punk, return your Pokémon and put your hands up in the air.” Charles grumbled as he returned his Pokémon back into his pocket. The officer shoved him against the wall and patted him down.
    “Hang on. There is no law against walking in the night, is there?” A clap of handcuffs latched around Charles’ wrist.
    “Don’t pretend you don’t know about the curfew, punk. Not to mention you look pretty suspicious, what with that get up.” Sure his pants were a little ragged and his denim jacket had Unown painted on it, but was he really in the same class as the atypical hooligan? Charles was shoved into the police car and they were sped off to police headquarters. Had he not been in such a confused state, he might have noticed a slight bit of purple trimming stuffed underneath the front seat.
    Last edited by lovetheangelshadow; 18th June 2015 at 10:24 PM.
    You see I am simply one hell of a Nobody

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Aug 2011


    Charles sat on the wire bench inside the holding cell with his legs tucked underneath him and hands clasped on the edge. The officer had dragged him a bit roughly past the desk and right into the prison cell without much of a response. The other officers didn’t even look up at them as if this were a common occurrence. Was this a regular thing in Lumiose? I should have stayed in Johto, Charles groaned. Finally he resigned to sitting with his feet against the wall and his head hanging over the bench edge.

    He hadn’t been there an hour when he heard the sound of keys opening the door. It was not the same officer from before, though he somewhat wished it had been. Jenny Shrine shared many of the traits dominant in her family lineage; from the sharp angular face to the coarse blue black hair. Tonight the usual neat bun in her hair was lopsided and stringy, and her crisp uniform rumpled and a little dirty. She pushed her large glasses up her rounded nose and groaned. Charles slid to the floor and waved back at her sheepishly.
    “H-hello, Big Sis.”
    “Just get up”, Jenny barked.

    Charles was given back his Pokémon at the front desk. The receptionist stood up from her seat and bowed profusely. A big Meowth grin was plastered to her face.
    “I am so sorry for the experience, mister. The officer in question will be berated for such rudeness.” Charles thought he heard a hint of malice in the chipper receptionist’s voice.

    “Uh…sure. No apologies needed”, Charles stammered. Jenny jerked him out of the door as he hastily grabbed his backpack. He saw that a card had been stuck to one of the straps with a paperclip. “Brooksie Bailey 555-4723”.
    Charles should have felt comfortable in the heated seats on his sister’s Milotic 47, but instead he was leaning back trying to settle his anxious stomach. He was toying with the card in his fingers when Jenny finally told him,
    “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re not the first jailbird she got smitten with. *sigh* I is my own fault in a way. I should have told you about the curfew when you called in from Violet City.” Charles flicked the card into the back seat and checked the time on his Xtransciever. It was almost 2am.

    “You could have also answered your phone too, Jen”, he huffed.
    “Yeah…I had thrown it in the drawer. My cell has been ringing off the hook and I had hoped to get my work done before your plane landed.”
    “What’s the matter? More dead bodies popping out of the channel?” Charles smirked. He was answered back with a slight pinch in the ribs.

    “Har har. Nah, it is our yearly audit. That time of the year when we have to sort through all our cases: decide what’s legally closed, what can be still open, and what’s still active. With my position I’ve not only got my work, but other officers who are dead or…well no longer with us in other circumstances.” Her voice cracked slightly at the end though she remained ridged in her driving.
    The car at last stopped in front of Jenny’s small home in the more residential part of Lumiose City. It was a humble cottage style home, resting between the New and Historic districts of the city. Charles welcomed the hot shower and a bed softer than a lumpy airport bench or a ridged jail seat. He did not fall asleep straight away though. He couldn’t help but think about the events of the night. Someone dressed as a pirate was running about the streets, at least he thought so. But the pirate had disappeared over the side of a three story building. He had even tried to tell the officer who had arrested him. Charles was just laughed at.
    “Some crazy folk dressing in gaudy red calling themselves Team Flare? Yeah I can take that. But a pirate wearing a pig mask riding a peg leg Arcanine? How much Pixie Punch did you drink tonight, kid?” It did seem crazy, Charles began to reason. Maybe if this was a movie maybe…maybe…Charles fell asleep with his head filled with dreams of spotlights and strange colorful figures dancing on the stage.

    Charles had finally woken up to the smell of coffee even at this early in the morning and helped himself to a large mug of it.
    “What are dressed in?” Jenny gasped at her younger brother when he finally shuffled out into the dining room. Charles had changed into a pair of bleached blue jeans and black jersey jacket adorned with the insignia of Froakie the Frog. Purple leather knee high boots adorned his feet and a light grey scarf hung about his narrow shoulders. Charles frowned as he displayed his choice of clothing.

    “What’s wrong with my wardrobe? They’re comfortable.”
    “You will not be walking around in Lumiose-the capital of fashion dressed like some…well if you’re going to live in Kalos, you need to be in Kalos fashion. After breakfast, we are going shopping. Now sit!” Charles saw that Jenny had all the ingredients laid out on the counter ready for what could feed a whole team. He was used to just munching on an apple and some peanut butter for breakfast.
    “You’ll work it off”, Jenny jibbed. “After all, you’ll be going out for the qualifier for the Tour de Kalos right?” Charles put down the orange he had been munching on.

    “I…I had no intention.” Jenny pouted at his response.
    “And why not? You have quite a few gold metals under your belt. I’m sure the Tour would be a piece of…”
    Charles slammed both palms on the table. He was shaking a little, obviously angry at his sister’s insistence.
    “Jen…I’ve spent the last two years competing in the Johto Pokeathalon, the Kanto Stadium Games, and the Honen 500. Both my Pokémon and I are exhausted. I came to Kalos for a break. I am asking too much, Jen?” Jenny placed her hand on Charles shoulder and slowly lowered him down.
    “I’m sorry. It was thoughtless of me. But we’re still shopping today. I could use a break from dead bodies and court rooms.”
    Jenny’s phone buzzed and nearly fell off the table. She snarled at the number flashing on the screen.

    “Detective Jenny Shrine of Homicide here…It’s my day off. Can’t you call Barnes to handle it instead?...but…nugggh fine fine….I’ll be there in half an hour. I better get paid overtime for this.” Jenny snapped her phone and darted into her room. It was only a few minutes later when she had changed out of her casual blouse for the grey blazer and dark slacks of her uniform.
    “Sorry Charlie, looks like I got another stack of paperwork I have to handle. It looks like someone found the night watchman of the Lumiose Museum dead inside the front lobby. What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Charles’ hand was shaking still holding the cup of coffee. He gulped large amounts of air and forced a big toothy grin.
    “Nothing is wrong Big Sis. It’s…just jet lag. That’s all.”

    The pirate had long discarded his costume and was talking on the phone. Before him was a yellowed piece of parchment resting on the flatbed scanner. The computer was scanning every viable detail on the paper and thus was taking quite some time to do so. He could have gotten the original map off the internet, but now with it in his possession he realized how intricate it was. It would do him well to have every detail if he was to succeed.

    “Relax, will you? I will pick up the evidence first thing tonight. I doubt he’d have time to get rid of the stones that quickly.”
    An ebony hoof tugged at the sleeve of his dressing gown. A pink bovine Pokémon was carrying a tray with a glass of milk and pills. The pirate smirked and patted the head of his Miltank.
    “Good girl, Millie. With a Pokémon like you, who needs in-house nurses? Hmm, oh no I was taking to Millie? Yeah, I am still taking them. What? Millie, turn the receiver to the news!”

    The massive screen blinked on as a reporter appeared.
    “While waiting for the opening of the much anticipated Kanto Collection on loan from the Pewter City Museum, we have just received word that the night watchman Franklin I. Garrison was found dead in the lobby when the curator Lamont Piece came into the building this morning. We will have more details as we get them…” The milk glass plummeted from the pirate’s hand. Millie dashed for it, barely saving the contents from spilling all over the rug.
    “I…I don’t know what happened. I told you last night what I found in that case. Yes, I took it with me, not that I honestly care about your highbrow problems. Fine, fine-if it makes you happy. Don’t forget, I only did this as a favor. Good bye.” The pirate slammed the phone down and rubbed his scarred face.
    “Millie, get Phantom and Silver over here.” Millie crossed her arms around her pudgy belly the best she could and shook her head.
    “Relax. I’m not going anywhere. The suit is still charging after last night. But a favor is a favor.”

    News traveled fast even at this hour of the morning. Jenny had barely maneuvered her car close to the museum when she was halted by a swarming crowd of newspaper reporters, television anchors, and self-published journalists. Then you just had those who possessed that morbid curiosity. The museum did not even open for another two hours. The advertising banner flapped in the breeze. She supposed they were all here by special pass to preview the Kanto Collection. She wondered if her little brother had acquired a ticket.
    The sergeant met Jenny when she finally managed to squeeze her way through the mob. Her blazer was now terribly rumpled and the bun in her hair halfway down.
    “Inspector Jen! We’ve received orders to wait for your arrival before we moved the body.”
    “I’ll be thorough though I hope Barnes takes over this one. My brother is in town and this was supposed to be my week off.”
    “Oh, I think you’ve mentioned your brother. He’s a…swimsuit model right?”
    “Actually I haven’t been asked to be in the swimsuit issue yet. Maybe because my skin doesn’t photograph well.” Charles was standing behind them with his hands clasped behind his head and grinning like the Skitty who swallowed the Fletchling.
    “What…what are you…how did you get here?” Charles started at his sister blankly.

    “I walked?”
    “Go home, Charles. The museum is closed in case you haven’t noticed.” Charles shoved his hands into the pockets of his jersey.
    “I know. That is why I am here. I am a material witness.” It was Jenny’s turn to feel dumbfounded.
    “Didn’t you spend the night in jail?”
    “Yea, but I saw someone fleeing the museum before that!” Charles hastily told his story about the pirate and how he chased him though the city. Jenny was trying not to slap her face.
    “You…cannot be serious.”
    “I’m not making this up, Big Sis!”
    “A purple pirate riding an Arcanine with a peg leg? Really, Charlie. I know how vivid your imagination gets, but this is just silly.”
    “Just…let me prove it. Come on, Jen. One shot at evidence.” Jenny rubbed her eyebrow.

    “Inspector, you cannot be serious in believing this kid”, the sergeant interjected. Jenny inhaled and moved the two closer to the museum door.
    “Charles, I am giving you one shot. Prove your story. If you can’t-I want the Triple Box lunch from Café Le Wow. Agreed?” Charles bounced a pokeball on the ground. A spiny green head popped out into view and she spun about her round brown body. Around its neck was a small digital camera.
    “Clicker, go to the top of that awning and take pictures.” The Chespin tilted her head confused by the request.

    “Just convince me I’m not crazy, Clicker.” He leaned in to the Chespin’s ear. “Plus an extra sweet pokeblok in it for you if I win the wager.” Small vines curled out from underneath Clicker’s neck as they curled around the first column. A few more swings upward and she was on top. She took a few snapshots and then shimmed downward towards her trainer. She eagerly handed him the camera and he showed his sister the picture he desired.
    “You have had heavy pollen and no rain for the past several days if I remember my weather report. That and if I recall correctly, they only wash the building once a month. These footprints are perfectly clear without even a slight hint of film on them.” The sergeant scratched his head, befuddled at the sheer confidence of the inspector’s brother. Jenny cycled through the pictures. Her eyes flashed suddenly and she shoved the camera back into Charles’ hands.
    “You know what I like. I’ll meet you in Plaza Verde in an hour.”
    “But…I just saw that look…” Jenny then thrust a large pokedollar bill in his hand. The sudden exchange made Charles drop the camera on the ground. Though thankfully it was in a Buizel Case (it is usually carried around by a Pokémon after all).

    “That should cover it. Now go on. Officers, please escort this gentleman off the premises.” Charles was shoved off with an officer on each arm though he didn’t struggle. There was something about that flash of horror in his sister’s eyes that concerned him. He was so focused on that; he hadn’t noticed that Clicker was not inside her pokeball.

    Clicker had smelled something sweetly irresistible that she had scampered off, clutching her camera around her neck. Resting there on the ground was a neat little poffin. It smelled so fresh and sugary that even on the stone, Clicker could not resist it. She tried to grab it, but barely hard her paws on it when it started to float. The poffin danced in the air a little before bounding away in quick successive out of the quad and behind the museum. Clicker was quick behind it though she could barely grasp it with her short paws. It suddenly dropped it and the Chespin was upon it like a Snorlax on a sitrus berry. She had been so busy stuffing her maw with the dessert that she had not noticed two figures approaching her from the front. A golden colored hoof wagged another sweet in front of her face making her gaze right into a pair of glowing violet pearls.

    In the women’s restroom Jenny cracked her neck and finished fixing her hair back into a bun. She couldn’t do much about her rumpled uniform, but at least her face was presentable. You never know about public opinion in this town. She paused at her reflection. Those footprints bothered her. It could be mere coincidence, she accosted herself. Even so, it would be best not to fuel her brother’s imagination. He put his life in enough danger with those athletic contests.

    The body was that of Harold Parker: age 52 and sole night watchman of the Lumiose Museum, the sergeant informed her. He was found roughly thirty minutes ago, by the curator Lamont Piece when he came in to finish a few things up for the opening of the special collections. The victim was lying on his back with the limbs twisted in the throes of agony. His lips were blue and the neck muscles were grotesquely swollen. The whole body had been dragged close to the door. Strange, she thought. Parker’s hair and beard were meticulously cut and even his shoes were quite polished. And yet the clothes were terribly rumpled and the stretched marks on the back and front were in opposite directions.

    “The cause of death from initial tests say it was death by asphyxiation due to an allergic reaction. We should know more in the autopsy. Frightening thing to look it isn’t it?” Jenny only half heard him as she busied herself gauging the direction of the stretch marks on the jacket. She had a small hunch about this whole thing. As she stood up, she thought she saw a flash of a camera lens just out of the corner of her eye to her left. However, the photographer was on her right. She turned and didn’t see anyone else save for a few forensic staff checking the floor and receptionist’s desk.
    “Oh Inspector, there is one more thing. We found this pinned to his back.”
    It was a piece of rough gray paper that smelled like wet newspaper and glue. Written in rough brush strokes the words reading “I hath stolen yer chance at freedom”. Underneath was a large drop of wax with the impression of a smiling Grumpig. She doubted they could trace it though the stationary or even the handwriting. She frowned at the thought there really was some credence to Charles’ wild tales.

    Jenny maneuvered towards the archway that boasted the red and blue banner announcing “The Kanto Collection: Treasures of the Origin”. It was cornered off by a velvet rope and a large podium in the middle of the hallway. She slid behind the pole and let herself inside. The chamber was a large circular room illuminated by the frosted glass skylight above. A battered piece of armor stared back at her with empty bulbous eyes. It was an unsettling thought the way it just stared at her.

    “Excuse me, Inspector Shrine, you be removing the body soon?” Jenny was startled by the sudden appearance of the curator. He was an older gentleman with broad backed shoulders and a barrel chest. In his youth he must have been a giant of a man.

    “Oh my I am so sorry. I am the curator, well soon to be ex curator of this museum, Lamont Piece. I hear you are the inspector in charge of this terrible incident?” Jenny straightened herself out pulled out her identification card.
    “Jenny Shrine, Homicide division. I was informed you found the body shortly before opening?” Lamont frowned and nodded slowly.
    “Y…yes I did. It was a terrible shock to me, most regretful. Harold Parker has been employed by the museum for over 20 years. And now this. On the very day of when we opened the Kanto Collection to the public. Most regrettable. Most lamentable. And so close to my resignation.” Jenny thought she caught a flash in the curator’s glasses. She looked over her shoulder and only saw the red eyes of the Beedrill headpiece.

    “Mr. Piece, what do you make of this?” Jenny showed him the bag with the note. The curator tilted his head in confusion. It was slight, but she did catch a slight twitch in the corners of his mouth.
    “I…found it placed on Harold’s back. It must be someone’s idea of cruel humor. Like a…a…”
    “A pirate?” Jenny finished for him. There was a crooked mirthful smile on Lamont’s lips. He laughed a wheezy chortle.
    “A pirate? What a silly notion. Pirates in Kalos? Even your brother would not spin such a yard.” Jenny didn’t have the heart to tell the curator that the pirate idea did come from her brother.
    “Oh speaking of Charles, has his plane arrived yet?” Jenny raised an eyebrow.
    “Oh don’t be so surprised. We have been in regular correspondence since he went abroad. If you see him, can you give this to him?” Price shoved an envelope into Jenny’s hands. The envelope itself wasn’t sealed and inside was a ticket to the Kanto Collection. She was not too astounded by this gift. Her brother was a high paying donor of the museum. Somewhere there should be a stone with his name on it. She really did not see the importance of a floor plaque since in the end it was just a fancy thing for people to walk on.
    “I have a few other questions for you, Mr. Prince”, Jenny said matter of factly as she shoved the envelope into her pocket, much to the curator’s apparent dismay.

    Charles had taken an outdoor table at the Café Ultimo and was waiting for his order to come out. It had been so long since he had come to the place, he had forgotten how loud the interior of the café could be. People and Pokémon were punching sandbags and making such a racket in doing so. Charles was all up for training Pokémon, but life was not all about hitting targets and tossing footballs at balloons. His stomach grumbled while he waited impatiently for breakfast. Honestly, could they focus on feeding their patrons first? Maybe he should have waited in that crazy line for Café LeWow. At last the door opened and the server at last handed him his Slowpoke Tail Wrap and three trays of Pokémon food. Charles let out his Pokémon one after the other. He had barely taken a bite out of his breakfast when he had happened to glance at his partners. One…two…where was Clicker? He looked under the table and even peeked his head inside the café interior. He didn’t see a single quill of his pudgy grass Pokémon. Clicker would never pass up food. A slow realization dawned on him. He had been shoved away from the museum so fast, he couldn’t remember if he ever recalled Clicker in the first place. Charles slapped a tip on the table and dashed back to the museum, once again forgetting to retrieve his Pokémon.

    Clicker stumbled as in a trance towards the alley behind the museum. Her eyes were nearly glazed over as she waddled towards a pair of Pokémon. Phantom was twirling his chubby arms and moving his belly in a hypnotic dance while the pearls upon his brow shimmered in effect. Now Clicker stopped before the pair and the Grumpig helped himself to Clicker’s camera. He popped out the SD memory card and then plugged it into a copying device. Once done, it returned the card to the camera. Phantom puffed out his chest and grunted proudly at his genius. Silver reminded Phantom that they should actually remove the pictures they had taken. Phantom stuck out his tongue for the Togetic ruining his hubris. He was about to hit the Reset button when Silver zapped him in the tail with a Thunder Wave. She chided him for his stupidity and was still doing so when they heard a high male voice call out Clicker’s name.

    Charles saw that there was still a crowd hanging about the museum. He shuddered as he remembered mobs surrounding him; shoving their microphones into her face and berating the youth with an unending string of questions. He still encountered that in his current profession, though usually only in the beginning and end of the marathon. No one really noticed Charles as he slipped between the people and scanning at the ground for his Pokémon. This was not going to do him much good. Everyone kept shifting around and inadvertently shoving him in different directions. At last he squeezed out into the open air and tugged the curls in his hair thinking what to do now. He slapped himself for not doing it earlier.

    He had made quite a few connections in his profession and thanks to a certain former Honen champion, he had gotten a prototype upgrade to his PokeNav: the LocateNav. It was an application based off the DexNav though this was connected to finding lost Pokémon. At current the Pokémon had to be within 30 meters range of the trainer and it was still in testing. He pressed his finger on Clicker’s picture and the app started beeping on the circle. Remind me to send a thank you letter to Steven, Charles noted to himself. The locator was pointing towards the back of the museum where the receiving dock was located. He knew of a back road where the freight trucks usually went to keep the main streets clear for pedestrian.

    Charles had barely turned a coroner when he saw a golden Grumpig and a Togetic fighting over a camera that had been encased in a Buizel case-his camera!
    “Hey, what do you think you’re doing with Clicker’s camera?” he called out. The Grumpig dropped the camera and shined his pearls in Charles’ face. Charles began to felt light-headed and the floor started to twist at his feet. His knees started to buckle underneath him and a terrible pressure was starting to swell in his brain. With great effort, he managed to stand back up and moved towards the Pokémon. The pressure was still buzzing against his skull, but Charles kept on. He continued to focus, forcing the psychic power to the back of his mind despite the agony. He put his two fingers in his mouth and whistled a loud wailing shriek, “Whhhhhhhhhheeeeewhooooo!! Weeeeeewhooooooo!” The Grumpig clamped his head aginst his floppy grey ears and dquealed at the noise. Clicker shuddered slightly as the spell on her mind was weakening. The Grumpig flailed his poofy limbs and stamped both cloven feet. Psychic power began to swirl about him as he prepared a Psyshock. A pair of rocky jaws clamped on his tail, making the Pokémon miss his target. A pink mist danced about the Togetic as she aimed a Dazzling Gleam at the Tyrunt still clinging to the Grumpig’s silver tail. Two vines from below jerked on her ankles and she spun about in the air. The camera dropped from her hands and Clicker speedily caught it. Tyrunt was blasted across the ground, as the Grumpig had managed to focus just enough to get the Pokémon to loosen his grip. The Togetic grabbed her partner and they dashed off by ducking underneath a parked car.

    Charles collapsed to the stone floor, running his aching head.
    “And those guys in that Boot Camp said I was wasting my time spending my nights studying at Sprout Tower instead of going out to drink with them. Whew, I never thought I would ever have to use it in practice though. Ugh…that…really hurt.” Gogoat approached him and nuzzled her leafy head against his. In her mouth was a takeout bag with Café Ultimo’s logo stamped on it. Charles tried to hide the blush rising up from his neck. He’s really had been slipping up hasn’t he?
    They had decided to finish their breakfast while sitting on the edge of the canal. On a whim, Charles decided to skim through the photos saved on Clicker’s camera. He had noticed the amount of photos saved to the camera. Last he had checked, Clicker had only taken only a 1000 pictures since the last time Charles had copied the photos to his computer. The counter read 1030. The pictures he looked through were of an older man, all swollen and twisted. Then he saw his sister! And finally close up shots of some kind of decorated metal. They were too close to discern exactly what it was. Finally was a note, half torn it seemed but the image was a little blurry to decide exactly what it was.

    “Clicker, did you take these photos?” The Chespin scratched her quilly hood in confusion. She didn’t know what happened. He should tell his sister; after he had a look at the pictures himself.

    Phantom eagerly handed the SD card to his master, all the while happily grunting his personal report with a great sense of pride and flurish. Silver just rolled eyes knowing what would soon come after. The master slipped the card into the computer and drummed his fingers while it loaded.
    “I had instructed you to take command of the crime photographer, but in a flash of interesting luck and inspiration you take control of a little Chespin who happens to carry about a camera. I trust you removed the photos from the other camera after the copy, Phantom?” Phantom clicked its upper hooves together and looked back at Silver who had slunk in the shadows. The master’s eyes narrowed and his crooked nose flared up.

    “You…didn’t…did you?” Phantom chattered incessantly that it was not his fault and even showed the sizeable bite marks in his curly tail. The master leaned back in his chair squeezing his hands in agitated fashion. The computer beeped indicating that it had finished loading the photos in the file viewer. His eye raised at the first photo to come onto the screen. At first glance he had thought it was a young woman with a quite short haircut, but a second check proved him wrong. So, it was the same lad who had chased him though the city just the night before. A cold shrill laugh echoed in the barren chamber; his sudden mirth unsettling for his Pokémon partners. His chortling at last ended as he slumped back in his chair, head handing over the side and his hair draped over the back like a disused rug. A small amused smile crept into his lips as he reached for the phone. Big Brother was not going to enjoy this news.
    Last edited by lovetheangelshadow; 18th June 2015 at 10:27 PM.

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Aug 2011


    Charles sat in the Verde Plaza for almost an hour past the time he said his sister would meet him. He had practically fallen asleep on the park bench when he felt someone slip an ice cube down the back of his jersey. Jenny chortled as her brother had flailed about and smacked his chin on the stone pavement. In her hand was a large takeout sack marked Café LeWow and she was half smiling-half frowning at Charles lying prostrated on the floor.

    “I believe you forgot to do something?”
    It was hard for Charles to stay angry at her for long as she had purchased enough food for both of them and his Pokémon. They had just finished their club sandwiches when Charles popped the question,
    “Sooooo spill. Come on, what happened at the museum? Did you see the collection? I’m curious to know how they arranged it.” Jenny took a long gulp from her Honey-Sitrus Iced Tea.

    “You seem to possess a morbid curiosity today. You didn’t, by any chance stay in Lavender Town at any length of time?” She smiled and leaned back in her seat.
    “It’s a bizarre thing. The night watchman was killed by Beedrill poison. It’s hard with that kind of stuff, but they estimate time of death between 2 and 3am this morning. There are two odd parts about it though. First off, there was enough poison in his system to equal the amount a whole swarm might carry. But…there was only one mark.” Jenny pointed to the palm of her hand.
    “The puncture was here roughly about the upper part of the palm. No single Beedrill carries that much toxin. Someone tried to drag him out of the building, but I guess gave up. He wasn’t exactly a small man.”
    “Was anything taken?”
    “No…it doesn’t make sense though.”
    “Why is that?”

    “The coroner found traces of Sleep Powder around his mouth and shirt collar. So if the motive was supposed to be robbery, the Sleep Powder would be enough. Why use the toxin?”
    “Maybe it was the Curse of the Viridian King”, Charles said eerily. Jenny just looked at him perplexed. “So you know about that thing. Of course you would.” Charles pulled out a small brochure from his knapsack, rather wrinkled and heavily marked with pen.

    “There is an old story in the annals of Kanto history pertaining to a great war that ravaged the country. It is said that the king of what is now the Viridian Forrest and City protected his province wearing an armor molded out of the shape of the Beedrill. What is fascinating is that they said he would touch a strange shining jewel on his breastplate and his Beedrill partner would change shape into this great monster.”
    “Soooo what we would call Mega Evolution these days”, Jen hummed as she munched on a pickle.

    “Yeah, that is the theory. Anyway, after the war the other kings and fellow knights grew both fearful and jealous of the king’s power. They demanded his secret, but when he gave no satisfying answer they plotted to kill him and take the armor for themselves. They arranged a rumor of bandits determining raze Viridian. The king followed them into the cave where he was ambushed and fatally wounded. The king managed to escape back to his palace where he died of his wounds three days later. But want to hear the most fascinating part?”
    “You’re going to tell me anyway.”

    “When the king stepped inside the castle he shouted a curse that all unworthy who touch the breastplate shall die by the spirit of his Pokémon partner. When he died his killers fought each other for the breastplate-the one with all the jewels. When the victor seized the prize he suddenly screamed out in agony where he died frothing at the mouth and screaming about swarms of Beedrill.”
    Jen leaned back in her hair.
    “Are you suggesting the victim was killed by this “curse”? Really Charlie, you of all people…”
    “We walk around with creatures that can shoot fire out of their nostrils. I don’t think my idea is that far-fetched.” Jenny munched on a handful of kettle chips.
    “There is one problem.”
    “That case was locked tight and nothing had been moved. Also, it was hooked up to the burglary alarm connected to police headquarters. We checked the alarm. It was still functioning.” Charles scratched his head. Something was bugging him about the whole thing.
    “Well I’ve done my part. The case has been handed over to Barnes. So why don’t you and me head to Autumnal Ave and get you gussied up proper?” As Jenny stood up, a crumpled envelope fell to the ground. Charles had picked it up and flicked it open. Jenny had her back turned when Charles dropped an ice cube down her blazer. He wagged the envelope between his fingers.
    “I believe you forgot to do something?”
    Charles was waiting in line to enter the gallery of the Kanto Collection. The museum would be closing in an hour and he finally got a breather. He had spent two hours sitting in a dressing room as Jenny stuffed him in an outfit one after another. With each presentation she was dissatisfied how it fit and had him remove it. Charles was not exactly enjoying the experience, but it was making his sister happy. He knew, deep down she had wanted a sister to do these kind of things with. The pair did not see each other much, so he endured the fashion show to amuse her. He had to admit, Jenny knew what she was doing. It was curious to know why she became a police officer in the first place.

    And now here he was standing in line with crisp blue slacks with white embroidered button down shirt, topped off with a blue cabbie hat. Now that he was outside of her view, he had let his jersey hang from his shoulders and twitched to a purple checkered posh hat that he purchased when she wasn’t looking. Garish? Yes. But at least he felt a little more like himself.
    It was fascinating inside the great domed room. The armor fashioned for Pokémon was lined up in perfect alignment and all staring at the center. The gems were resting in between each suit of armor and in polished gilded glass cages. Plaques described each item in great flowery detail and included photographs and diagrams. It was an incredible contrast to the Pewter museum which kept everything simple and to the point.

    Charles glanced at the armor. He had seen it several times while training around Mount Moon. It was an unsettling looking thing seeing it propped up this way. Much of the armor had rusted out save for the breastplate, helmet, and part of the arms. The scrollwork on the armor was intricate and still shined as well as the day it had been made. So why did something feel off to him? The six onyx stones still shined as brilliantly as before. He paused at the final two. The first four were as perfectly set as the day they were constructed, but these two seemed to have been shoved in. It could be old age, Charles tried to reason with himself. He heard the sound clip of a camera off to his right. Next to him also looking intently at the armor was a gentleman sitting half crumpled in a wheelchair. Long strands of hair of an indeterminate color was sprawled about his shoulders and face like the vines of a Tangela. Pushing the wheelchair was a Miltank wearing a red and white caretaker vest who was starting intently at Charles.

    “You find the armor interesting?” he asked her, making casual conversation. The man did not respond, though Charlie had noticed that he had turned her head up slightly in his direction.
    “Oh, Charlie, you did come.”
    Lamont Piece grinned and held his large hand out to shake. His eyes were squinted harshly and he had to lean close to see the young man clearly.
    “Oh, Mr. Piece, yes it has been quite some time. I see my contributions have been used well.”

    “Oh ho ho, still formal after all this time. Well, my dear boy, what do you think? A crowning achievement to end my retirement on eh?”
    “Oh? I did not know you were retiring.”
    “Yes, yes, sadly caring for this museum and all its precious children wears down on a soul. Say, are you interested in handling my museum? Oh ho ho don’t look so flushed, I was merely making a jest.” Charles laughed nervously. He was not entirely used to Piece’s sense of humor even after being a regular patron all this time.

    “I heard about what happened to the guard. It’s awful someone can do something so terrible.” Piece’s eyes narrowed even more than they already were.
    “Perhaps it was the curse of our bug loving king here, eh? Mr. Parker was killed by Beedrill venom was he not?”
    “Heh, maybe. But I thought the curse only went after thieves and the like.” Piece smacked his lips.
    “You know your Kanto mythology, don’t you?”
    “It’s mostly a hobby. Life isn’t all about punching rocks with your head.”
    “Heh, maybe it was that…pirate who used the curse, hmm?”
    “Yea, I’d like to think that…” Charles’ eyes lowered and his voice trailed off.
    “Something the matter, boy?”
    “Y-you said pirate. You saw the pirate dressed in purple?” Price patted Charles’ back with hard slaps.

    “Oh ho ho, a pirate indeed. Oh ho ho ho.” He walked off still hooting his amusement. Charlie felt even more embarrassed than he had before. Well there was nothing much else he could do in this gallery since he had seen it all before, why not spend the rest of the hour in the other galleries.
    The Gemology Room held a vast selection of stones second only to the Devon Collection in Honen. Somehow, this room felt smaller than he remembered. As he came closer to one of the cases, he realized why. Many of the cases were missing stones. In their place was little plaques that read: Removed for Cleaning. Some of the plaques seemed a little yellow at the edges.

    “Not too many sparkles in here, are there Millie?” The man in the wheelchair had appeared so suddenly and silently inside the room. He wouldn’t think someone that age could move that fast. The man kept talking to his Miltank.
    “I agree Millie. I wonder if someone has been spiriting them away. Maybe that is why they suffered the wrath of the Viridian King, eh? Or perhaps, someone acting on his behalf. Heh heh heh.” Charles chuckled nervously, but then something snapped in the back of his mind. Curses, thieves, pirates…something was wrong in the pattern. A memory of something he had seen or read was begging to be recalled. He dashed out of the museum as fast as permissible with the crone still watching him.

    Millie scratched her horns, unsure what the charade was all about. The man just sneered a Leipard grin.
    “I may not be able to come near the police anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t steer a certain femme investigator in the right direction. Hmm hmm hmm it’s almost like old times…but much more fun.”
    “Hey Charlie, if you are going to have every one of your boxes of your magazines opened, I suggest you get your own apartment.” Jenny kicked off a copy of the Lumiose Museum Chronicles off her boot that Charles had just tossed. Jenny had come home from grocery shopping to find her living room floor nearly covered with open boxes of magazines. Charles had just opened another box, this time one marked with a Kanto postmark. Something was buzzing in his head about that armor, even before he overheard that talk between the wheel-chaired man and his Miltank. He hit pay dirt as he spotted the cover tag line he had been looking for. Jenny peeked in inside and cleared her throat quite loudly.
    “Oh uh…sorry Big Sis. I’ll clean it up right away. I…did not realize I had so many magazines.” Jenny let out a big sigh.

    “Yeah well, we’re having hot wings tonight. I figured what better way to get our minds off all this museum nonsense by burning our tongues off.”
    Charlie resealed up every box and just barely managed to stuff it in the closet. Considering he didn’t know how long he’d be out of competition, he supposed he should get his own place. Not that Jenny had a lot of people over anyway. Now he sat on his bed with his laptop open and all the photos Clicker had taken on the screen. He flipped the magazine to the article called “The Curse of the Viridian King” and started reading. It only took him a few lines to recall what it was that had been bothering him. Jenny knocked on his open door.
    “Hey, time to eat. Charles? What are you staring at?” The color had drained from Charles’ face and his hands shook as he gripped the magazine tightly.
    “Charlie? Is something wrong?” Charles’ chin sunk into his chest and his curly locks attempted to conceal watery eyes.
    “Jenny…There’s something…we need to talk about.”
    Last edited by lovetheangelshadow; 18th June 2015 at 10:29 PM.

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Apr 2005


    This is a cool premise. You don't see too many pokemon-style whodunnits out there, and you've introduced a lot of neat concepts, what with the competition between thieves, the mind-control grumpig, and some interesting and perhaps powerful old artifacts.

    Unfortunately, your prose is really rough at this point. It's not so much sentence construction problems as it is persistent typos, grammatical issues, and punctuation problems. A few goofs here and there isn't a big deal, but you're running into a fairly high concentration of sentences like "That set her apart though was that she didn’t keep her hair up in the usual bristly ponytail, but instead shoved it up in a neat little pun." that have multiple typos in them, and at that point it starts to get a bit difficult to follow the story. Spellcheck only takes a couple seconds, and it would already be a big help in beating back typos--a careful read-through would help even more.

    At this point I'm not quite sure what the story wants to be. It's not really a mystery--in that case we'd be trying to solve the same puzzle as the detective characters, working with the same information as them, but we're getting to see things from the thieves' perspective as well. You may be going for a drama instead, where we get to see the clash between the thieves and the people out to catch them, and all the fallout that causes. Right now your character work isn't quite up to what you'd need to really make that kind of approach work, though.

    I do like the relationship between Charlie and Jenny; while Jenny is maybe a little deep into "dismissive authority figure who doesn't recognize the protagonist's obvious skills" territory, overall I think their sibling dynamic works, and they strike me as believable people. They're still a bit bland, though; we haven't really gotten much of a sense of their personality yet. What do they value? What are their strengths and weaknesses? What drives them? We haven't really got a sense for these things yet, and as a result it's hard to get too interested in the characters. They're pleasant enough, but nothing really sets them apart, good or bad. Meanwhile, Millie and Phantom's master has mostly been doing fairly generic villain stuff, even if it looks like he didn't actually mean for anybody to die. I like the thief from the first chapter a bit better, probably she's had a bit more screen time and clearly has a sense of style, but ultimately there's not a lot to go on with her, either. Drama really hinges on the friction between characters, so you want to pump as much personality into them as possible.

    It doesn't help that a lot of what's gone on in this story has been stuff that sort of coincidentally gets Charlie involved in the case. He happens to be passing by the museum when the first thief makes her move, and it turns out his sister gets assigned to work on the investigation of the murder in the museum. While he's there, his chespin happens to attract the attention of some shady pokemon, who clear out when Charlie luckily manages to show up just before they delete the photos on her camera. All this means that Charlie hasn't really gotten to stretch his wings yet and show the reader what he's really made of: most of his problems have been solved by the intervention of circumstance or other characters rather than his own initiative. Hopefully you have some tough challenges for him to overcome down the line so we can find out what he's really made of.

    I do really like the idea behind this, though, and you've set up a neat case for your protagonist to try and solve. Underneath the stylistic errors, I think your writing's pretty solid; in particular I liked the extended pirate metaphor in the opening, and while they're brief, your character moments are good when they're there: the pirate and her arcanine interacting in the opening, Phantom scrambling to fix the situation when Lamont unexpectedly shows up to clean the armor, and Clicker's general cheerfulness and enthusiasm. In general, I'd say I think you've done the pokemon characters a little better than the humans so far: their personalities are kind of one-note and simple, but at least they come through pretty well.

    All in all, I think you've got a solid story idea here that could use a little tightening up to really bring out its best elements. More than anything, I think it would help if you took the time to proofread and spellcheck your work--a little polishing would go a long way towards improving how it reads, I think.

    In which an undead trainer, a bloodthirsty super-clone, and an irascible ex-Rocket grunt set out to rescue an imprisoned Mew--if they don't end up murdering each other first.

    Banner by Sworn Metalhead of Dćdric Design

  5. #5
    Join Date
    Aug 2011


    Thank you for the comments. I shall endeavor my best to edit before posting any further...fair warning it might take me a little while. But I will try my best to do so.
    You see I am simply one hell of a Nobody

  6. #6
    Join Date
    Aug 2011


    As per Negrek's suggestions I have fixed the last three story posts.
    You see I am simply one hell of a Nobody

  7. #7
    Join Date
    Aug 2011


    “Mr. Piece, are you sure you want me to leave now? I have not finished sorting out the lists for the Kanto Collection.” The Braviary nosed curator grinned as he patted the shoulder of his receptionist.
    “No need to worry. I will be staying late tonight. I am expecting an old friend anyway. Go on home.” He watched as the confused receptionist took their things and left the museum exit. She hadn’t even noticed the sporty lad making his way up the stairs or even making his way behind the first column closest to the entrence. He pressed the hidden buzzer and Lamont slipped his card into the omni-lock to open it.

    “Come in Charles, come in. The pollen is so thick this season isn’t it?”
    Charles nodded slowly, unsure of which words to use without sounding like a fool. Clutched in his left has a rolled up magazine with a bright sticky note coming out of the corner. Piece clutched Charles’ pointed shoulder and led him down the employees’ area.

    “I was quite surprised when I got your call last night that you wanted to talk. I am so busy these days what with the Kanto Collection now open and then this terrible murder; ah but what can I do to refuse one of the museum’s highest patrons? Oh that would not do. Not do at all.”
    The office of Lamont Piece was a cramped space; the walls honeycombed with shelves and odd papers. He seated himself behind his desk and waiting for Charles to sit in the opposite chair. The lad politely refused. Thus the curator leaned in and squinted heavily towards his visitor.
    “So what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Charles’ hand was shaking and he gasped heavily several times. He would rather face another avalanche than this.

    “Mr. Piece, I have reason to believe I know how Harold Parker was killed and why.” He noticed that the old man’s eye twitched slightly. A smile forced itself into the corners of his mouth.
    “Oh? Pretending to be a detective like your big sister? Well I suppose I can amuse you for a little while. Tell me. How did Mr. Parker die?” Charles tugged at the collar of his jersey.
    “He was killed by Beedrill poison, but it wasn’t by a Beedrill. He was stabbed in the palm of his hand. A Beedrill would have gone for an arm or the neck. They are pretty accurate stingers.”

    “A-and…I think I know how he really got stung. Mr. Piece, do you know what the Curse of the Viridian King actually is?” Charles waited for an answer. Piece’s face did not move, but Charles noticed his eyes dart to the desk drawer next to him.
    “Tell me what you think it is”, Piece said quickly. The longer Charles stood there, the surer of the answer he was. And this did not help in what he was about to say.

    “Mr. Piece, Parker was…was stealing from the museum…wasn’t he?” Piece rose up slightly from his chair and his meaty fingers dug into the desk top. Charles continued speaking with a cracked voice.
    “He stole some of the smaller stones from the Gem Collection, didn’t he? The ones he took would be harder to trace. He tried to steal the onyx stones from the Beedrill Armor didn’t he? Thus he enacted the curse of the armor; a poison needle activated by pressing a certain spot on the decoration. Then…then…when you saw his body…you…moved him towards the…the door and…and put back the stones he already removed.”
    Piece leaned back in his chair, fingers heavily clasped together.
    “So you got me. I rearranged the crime scene”, he said coolly. He held out his hands in plea.

    “Oh it was tragic, tragic I tell you! I came in early to finish some things and I saw his body in front of the case with the stones in his pocket. I couldn’t retire with such a scandal! Oh if I had only known about that device, I would have removed it to prevent such a calamity. You understand don’t you? Surely you, a lover of the arts, understand my situation.”
    Charles’ hand clenched the magazine even tighter and he began to sniffle.
    “I-I-I wish I…I wish I…I could believe you.” Piece’s face tightened and his eyes narrowed to almost closing.
    “Come again?”
    “I…I said I…wish I could believe you.” He held up the magazine in his hand, now starting to warp with sweat. He opened it to the sticky note and presented it to the curator.

    “Mr. Piece…do you know what this article is about? This is from the Pewter Museum Periodical dated eight months ago detailing the Viridian Curse. They discovered the poison needle mechanism using X-rays. They could not remove the entire device without damaging the design work, but they were able to remove the needle and sterilize the rest of the device of traces. In other words…it would have been impossible for the night watchman to have been killed by the armor!”

    Piece stood completely up this time.
    “Are you saying he was killed by a person? Perhaps say…a purple pirate.”
    Charles glared at the curator.
    “Mr. Piece, how did you know there was a pirate involved?” There was a slight flush in Piece’s cheek and he kept glancing at the drawer by his hip.
    “Well the note of course!” Charles pulled a printed photo tucked underneath the cover of his magazine. On it was the police photograph of the parchment note. Charles looked at it puzzled.
    “Funny, just from this note I can’t tell if it’s from a pirate per say.”
    “W-well he was also on the security footage!”
    “Mr. Piece…you were there that night, weren’t you?”
    “I just said…!”

    “My sis said there was nothing on the security footage. Also there was Sleep Powder around Parker’s mouth and collar. Would it not be safe to assume that this pirate used the powder to put the guard to sleep while he tried to steal the stones?”
    “Who…who knows? Pirates are wicked, awful creatures. Who’s to say he made Harold fall asleep and then maybe because he saw the pirate’s face so the pirate decided to kill him?”
    Charles slammed his palms of the tabletop, his face turning red with fury.

    “Because I saw the pirate exit the museum at quarter after one. Parker was determined to have died sometime between two and three. Beedrill poison can be pretty toxic especially to humans. He would have died within five minutes of being stung.”

    “Whose is to say the pirate didn’t come back and kill the guard?”
    “Why come back just to kill a guard? He would have done it then and there!”
    “Listen you primeval brat, quit spouting nonsense without proof…”
    Charles held out another photo in front of his face.
    “This is a photo the police took of the armor. (Though it was in reality one of the photos Clicker had taken) Notice how the center of the swirl in this rosebud is facing down. Now look at this photo in the magazine. The rose is pointing up. You wouldn’t notice it without sharp eyesight. Your sight is poor without your glasses isn’t it? This why the last two stones are crooked while the others are pristine. Did you think when the armor is returned back to Kanto they wouldn’t notice?”

    Piece’s shoulder lowered towards the desk and he leaned even further.
    “The museum will miss your continued donations.” There was a slimy pop and suddenly Piece’s hand was thrown back almost behind him. Clanking to the floor was a handgun, covered in green slime.
    “I knew ye were willing to kill the guilty. But ‘twas hoping I be wrong in ye willing to kill the innocent,” responded a voice so gruff it could be mistaken for a Pokémon.

    The pirate had been standing there in the corner. In his hand was a smoking revolver what he kept pointed right Piece.
    “I noticed yer little surprise in thee armor. I took the liberty of removin’ the needle after I sent Mistah Parker to night-night land. I should have known ye would have a more of them venom. Ye really should have left this to the police.”
    Lamont Piece’s barrel chest puffed up to enormity and he looked like a terrible enraged Ursaring.

    “Police! Bah! Worthless pedestrian dogs. You…you…that blackguard dare desecrate MY beloved museum! He stole MY children! He dare to lay his common prints on my precious art? Bah ha ha ha! I am the god of this museum! I decide how things should and should not be! You can’t do a thing against me! A device that could have been put there at any time? A decoration just happens to be upside-down? Ha! It won’t stand up in court! And who would believe a gaudy pirate and some curly haired sportsman? I have a name in this city. My word surpasses yours!”

    The pirate twirled the revolver between the thick fingers of his glove. Charles could not see the pirate’s face clearly, but he got the impression he was smiling.
    “True, thy police will believe yer words, especially right now.”
    “What do you…?”

    “Oh? Ye haven’t guessed it already? Charles over there…is wearing a wire.”
    Lamont Piece’s meaty hands lunged at Charles’ neck. A second gunshot rang through the office. Jenny held her gun right at Piece’s head.
    “I’d let go of him if I were you”, she threatened. Charles gasped for breath and darted his face towards the corner to where the pirate had been. He had completely vanished! How? How could someone that bulky move that fast?

    Charles was sitting on the edge of his bed. He did not exactly feel very well. His stomach was clenched up and his hands clammy with perspiration. Jenny knocked on his door and gingerly opened it. In one hand was a bucket of ice cream and a large spoon.
    “Hey, you okay?” She sat next to him and rubbed his shoulder with her free hand.

    “Yeah it sucks when someone you trusted turns out to be scum. Of course not all of them are murderers eh? Heh heh.”
    Charles just kept his hands limp on his lap and his head sunk even lower into his chest. Jenny practically dumped the bucket onto his lap.
    “Truth is, I had a feeling he was involved somehow. I just didn’t expect murder.”
    “You…suspected him…all this…time?” Charles croaked. He had already shoved a large spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and was halfway in scooping out another.

    “The museum has a backup alarm system, you know, in case of power outage or tampering. The backup computer drive had been turned off and Price’s fingerprints were fresh on it. The only ones who know the existence of that computer are the police and the chief administrator; and only the admin has the access key and fingerprint data.”
    “But…then that means he had Parker on film. He could have turned that in to the police and…”

    “I know. That’s what scares me. He almost killed you too. Charles…”
    “Mmmph?” Charles mumbled with the spoon in his mouth.

    “Don’t get involved in my work ever again. I don’t know who this purple pirate is or what he wants, but keep away from him.” Jenny embraced her brother tightly and he nearly coughed up the contents of his mouth on her shoulder. He glanced behind him to a small desk photo that had some water spots on the edges.

    “All right Big Sis, by the honor I received my medals, and I swear to keep out of criminal activity.” She finally let him go and rubbed her nose on her sleeve.
    “Good to hear. Now give me some of that ice cream before you bloat up like a Miltank.”

    The pirate was sitting across the coffee table with his guest as they shared a pot of coffee. His guest was drumming his fingers on his trouser leg, obviously not pleased with his host.

    “I told you what was likely to happen. I would have been happy just messing with the police investigation and going to blackmail. But I knew…and I have never been wrong before. He would have killed again for the sake of that highbrow entertainment.” His guest grumbled and leaned back in his chair. He started scratching Millie’s ear as she offered him more cream for his coffee.
    “Speaking of toying with our fair law enforcement, why did you throw that man into jail two nights ago?” The pirate giggled.

    “Oh that? Just having a little fun with Lumiose’s Finest. Just because someone in a car that looks like a police car and someone that looks like a policeman comes out…you assume it is a policeman.” The other huffed on his host’s amusement.
    “I still don’t like the idea you using that kid. When I…we agreed to this insanity, you promised me you wouldn’t harm any innocents.” The pirate’s eyes narrowed.
    “I don’t control or predict Arceus’ whims. I’ll endeavor to avoid that in the future, though I guarantee nothing.”

    “You’ve never been one to believe in fate.” The pirate grinned.
    “About the missing museum items…”
    “Let me deal with that. As the number one patron of the Kalos arts, I have more than a passing interest.”

    “As you will. I have little care for your high society tangles. Besides, I got what I want. Things are going to pop in Lumiose City from now on.”

    END CASE 1

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