Unprecedented Times [A Pokemon Ranger Quest]

---

New Message(s) from Mom!

Here's Laine's recipe for boiled Magikarp. She expects a call from you at some point as repayment, "auntie tax", as she calls it.

Now you're probably noticing that this seems to be lacking as much spice than we normally put into your food.

This, Kylie, is because you have an unreasonable tolerance for heat, and if you're going to be offering this up to others, please don't decide it needs more. The only reason our household ate things as spicy as we did was because your tastes helped us adapt to it over many, many years. The amount of heat you probably want to put into this is not normal for most people.

So my advice to you is tone it back for your friends, if you want them to be able to finish a plate.

Love, Mom.

---

You set your breakfast-covered tray down on the cafeteria table, before sitting down in front of it.

To your right is Gretchen, currently digging into what looks to be a breakfast sandwich of some kind, and across from you is one half-awake Suzume, staring blearily at her tray of food.

Suzume got back late last night - like, two or three late - and left a message for both of you when she did. You and Gretchen, upon waking up and reading it, went to collect her for breakfast, though honestly, you're pretty sure Suzume's brain hasn't quite left the bed you'd coaxed her out of.

Off in the Pokemon pit, all the usual suspects have taken up what has become their standard arrangement.

B.B. and Glow sit off in one corner, both eating in relative peace, just as they like to.

Urchin, meanwhile, is in the middle of the pit, currently laying across her two bowls: her trunk stamped down in her now-empty water bowl, while her head is laid on the pile of kibble. Every few seconds, she'll lean over, open her mouth, and take a mouthful out of it, gurgling happily as she does.

If only you could ever feel so decadent.

Finally, in the corner directly opposite B.B. and Glow is Sentinel and Frisbee. The former is eating her food very politely, taking careful handfuls and gobbling them down, while Frisbee, in a true change in form, appears rather subdued, keeping his head down as he eats from a bowl full of peas and leafy greens.

You can't help but notice that, every-so-often, Sentinel will spare a glance over at Frisbee, inspect him, before going back to eating. It reminds you a lot of how B.B. would spare the occasional eye towards Urchin in their early days, though with significantly less vitriol.

You glance down at your own tray, which contains several spicy sausages, rice, and pepper-speckled eggs. You find you can't help but give voice to a certain annoying thought currently kicking around in your head.

"You all like spicy food, right?" you ask, glancing between Gretchen and Suzume. "That's a normal thing people like, yeah?"

Gretchen gives you an odd look. "I'm fine with it, though it's not something I really seek out, per-se?"

Suzume, comparatively, goes a bit pale as she surfaces from her stupor. Her look is wary, cautious, even. "I... I'm probably not prepared to eat what you think is spicy," she admits, though by the sounds of it, the admission is an unwilling one. "After you let me try your noodles... it, it's just too much. The spiciest things back home are like, various pickles and wasabi."

"What's this about, anyway?" Gretchen probes, giving you a great deal of side-eye.

"Well..." you begin, trying to mentally will the heat from your neck. "For the potluck, you know? I asked my mom for a recipe from my aunt, and she left this diatribe about not adding more spice than is in the recipe already. She basically said my heat tolerance is 'unreasonable'. I know I prefer spicier foods than others, I do, but I find it kinda hard to believe that my tastes are really that extreme. It's not like I go for things marketed as super spicy, or eat raw peppers, or even add heaps of spice! I just... add as much as I enjoy, and no more. It's entirely a taste thing."

Gretchen's look is long, searching, and coloured by no small amount of disbelief. "Kylie, define for me how much 'as much you enjoy' is."

"I dunno, a few glugs and pinches?" you hedge, beginning to get the impression you might be walking into something, here.

"How much is 'a few'."

"...A few is a few."

Gretchen rolls her eyes, though evidently concedes she's in no place to get the answer out of you, as she turns to look at Suzume instead. "So, putting aside Kylie's ongoing denial of reality"—"Hey!"—"how'd your mission go, Suzume?"

Suzume yawns, blinking sluggishly. "Pretty good?" she offers, blinking a few more times. Gradually, clarity sinks into her expression, and you can just about see the cogs in the machine that is Suzume's brain spin to life. "So the mission was posted by EGRA—the Ever Grande Rescue Association. The staff there is super cool, they're basically birds of a feather to us, even if they aren't rangers. They quickly caught on to how I worked and what I needed to keep working, and I really gelled with the people there. Like... sometimes you get people going 'well, why do you need to do this' or not wanting to do something because it's extra effort they don't see as necessary? I got nothing like that over there. I explained what I wanted to do and why, and they went 'oh, that makes sense,' and off we went."

Leaning over, Suzume pauses to shovel some of her breakfast into her mouth.

"EGRA's the biggest rescue association on this side of Hoenn, I think Mauville has a bigger one, but that's like, it. It handles a lot of what they call 'no-recovery' cases; that sounds worse than it is, honestly, it just means that the Pokemon is not expected to ever be able to bond with a human or return to the wild," she continues, once she's done. "And it can be for like, a bunch of reasons. There's the obvious abuse cases, but there's also just some Pokemon who end up that way. This doesn't mean they're necessarily hostile to humans, also, it just means they... aren't suitable for that kind of thing. Anyway, I got sent out with a list of Pokemon and what the staff there know they like and their habits and so on. My first case was a Rotom nearly as old as the institute itself - and EGRA was founded a few years after the South Sea Wars, so that's saying something - which was hijacking local farming equipment. I'll admit that one got... messy, but I did manage it. After that, I tracked down a three-legged Mightyena who revealed they could climb vertical walls and made me spend several days hiking through the forest before I could find the cheeky shit. Finally, I had to deal with a Kabutops of all things."

"...The fossil Pokemon?" Gretchen hedges, sounding uncertain.

Suzume makes a so-so gesture. "They actually keep finding Kabuto populations on the bottom of the ocean, so they aren't technically fossil Pokemon anymore, but this one was almost certainly revived from a fossil, yeah. Poor guy has extreme anxiety, bordering on agoraphobia, and I spent the better part of two days coaxing him out of the bottom of an abandoned well. That one involved a lot of gifts sent down via bucket attached to a rope. The fella liked cutting the ropes too, so I went through a lot of friggin' rope near the end. The staff was understanding and fed me enough of it to keep going, but still, I probably should've cottoned on to his habits after I was told his name was Mister Snips. Oh, right, I also got this for my troubles, too."

Patting her pants a few times, Suzume reaches into one of the pockets and pulls out a circular patch. She shows one side to you, which reads 'HONORARY EGRA MEMBER' written over a design depicting a large moon, half-hidden behind mountain peaks.

"I really like it, and I went and checked out our rulebook, which revealed I can totally attach it to my vest without breaking uniform code," Suzume explains merrily, and a bit smugly. "The EGRA team is giving these out to everyone who's helping out over there, and apparently they got these made weeks ago when the union sent in a team to deal with some of the more volatile and dangerous Pokemon that escaped. The rest of us were dealing with Pokemon that ranged from 'dangerous if scared' - the Rotom - to 'mostly harmless, just kinda scary' like the Kabutops. I think we have most of the missing Pokemon packed away, though there's... some who haven't been found, many of which the association have informally declared as dead. I think they'll still be offering up scouting bounties this upcoming week if anyone wants to go looking for them, but..."

"Low chance, yeah," Gretchen breathes, rubbing her nose.

"It's a lot of elderly and otherwise infirm Pokemon they were looking after," Suzume says a little quietly. "Shame this happened to people like this, but... I guess disaster doesn't discriminate."

You all eat in silence for a little while after.

Gretchen, of course, breaks it. "So, putting all of that behind us, are you still up for the bonfire tonight, Suzume?" she asks. "You might have said 'sure' on the way over, but I'm not confident you remember much of that conversation."

Suzume flushes. "I totally remember saying yes, so I'll be going. I wasn't that out of it, honest."

"Suzume," you begin, seeing ripe opportunity for teasing, "when we were getting you up, you called me no less than six different names, none of which were mine, and then started ranting in a language I couldn't understand until we reached the cafeteria and you smelled food. We waited nearly ten minutes for you to put a pair of pants on, after you tried to come out without them."

Suzume's blush crawls up to the roots of her hair. "Surely it wasn't—"

"It was," is Gretchen's brutal response.

Suzume makes a soft, almost anguished noise, covering her face with one hand. "Okay, maybe I'm a heavy sleeper, but uh, yeah, I'm going to the bonfire, I really do remember that, even if I don't remember, uh, much of the rest. 'Sides that, though, I'm doing absolutely nothing besides kicking back and relaxing. Well... okay, I'll be spending some time on Frisbee."

The mention of the Lotad draws your gaze back over to him, and you make a curious noise. "You know, I was going to ask what's going on there. He's being unusually sedate."

"I am working on him, you know? I don't intend to encourage him to fight everything he sees," Suzume interjects, sounding mildly exasperated. "But this isn't... yeah, this isn't my doing. He's gotten a lot better, but this kind of behaviour is because his aggression got the better of him on the mission, and he ignored an order and lashed out in the middle of a chaotic situation. I've told you before about how Sentinel takes my safety really seriously, and, well... she took Frisbee's act personally. Very personally. She kicked the snot out of him, to be more direct. I separated them quickly, and he wasn't really hurt, but the fight lasted long enough for him to realize Sentinel completely outclasses him in strength, and it kinda blew a hole in his ego. This entire time, Sentinel's let him walk over her, playing along with his dominance displays, and in a single moment she proved she was enabling that, and never actually needed to. I'm going to work on reconciling the two of them; not that Sentinel needs to reconcile with him, it's really only him who's still upset about the situation, but that's the only work I'm doing."

"He was going to have to learn this lesson eventually," Gretchen points out gently. "He might have the personality of a Salamence, but he's not a particularly strong fighter."

Suzume inclines her head. "I know, and you're right he'd get a reality check eventually, I was just hoping it wouldn't be Sentinel to do it. Anyway, what about you two? Anything you're going to get up to today, besides the bonfire?"

"I'll be heading to a seminar after lunch, it's about Hoenn's ecosystems," you say, finishing up the last of your breakfast and nudging your tray towards the middle of the table. "But I've left the rest of the day pretty open. The seminar's expected to run a few hours, so I'm giving myself breathing room between stuff. I'll probably do some laundry when I have the time for it."

"I'm going to go jogging," Gretchen adds as a follow-up. "I took Glow on a walk yesterday, but I wanna do a couple kilometres or more today. The last few missions have confirmed I need to work on my stamina; I'm strong enough, I just don't have the staying power I need, not yet."

"Way to make a girl feel lazy by comparison," Suzume groans.

"I rested most of the day I got back," you point out.

"Still, augh!"

Choice:

---

"I'm not late or anything, right? I got a little... lost," you say as you're let into the room.

That is something of an understatement: you managed to get turned around two floors ago, after misreading the location for the seminar. When you found a completely empty room, you re-read the location, realized your mistake, and proceeded to sprint what felt like the entire length of the ship.

The man gives you an easy smile, shaking his head. "No, but we are about to get started. Go find a seat."

Stepping into the room where the seminar is being held, you find it already occupied by around thirty people, give or take a few, with another two people standing next to a projector and laptop combo. The room is dim, windows covered by blinders, and the very end of the room has a wide pull-down screen already deployed, onto which the projector casts an image of someone's rather messy desktop.

The seats in the room are all arranged to face the screen, and are made up of an assortment of benches and chairs, set in rows.

You scan over the crowd, looking for an empty seat, when a raised hand catches your eyes. Looking over towards it, you follow the arm down to find, to your surprise, a familiar face: Mahana.

As you make your way over to her, Mahana scoots to the side on her bench and quickly taps the space next to her.

"Kylie!" she greets, voice a little hushed despite the exuberance. "It's good to see a familiar face."

Dropping onto your Mahana-designated seat, you let out a breath. "You almost didn't. This ship is an actual warren, I tell you. Nothing but identical, cramped corridors and confusing signs." You, of course, blame the ship for your misreading of the number seven as one. These are the things you must do to keep your sanity.

Mahana snickers. "It is basically a little floating village, hey? So, how's it been going? Been doing good work out there?"

"I like to think so," you confirm, leaning back a bit as you watch the man you let you in make his way up to the other two people next to the projector. "B.B. evolved into a Loudred over a week ago. Helped protect me from a very scary Altaria."

Mahana's eyes shine in the gloom, and she gives you a sharp smile. "Woah, congratulations! Is he settling in to his new form well? It was a big shock - snerk - when Arena evolved into a Raichu, though I suppose most Pokemon don't have to deal with their tails trying to float away."

"He settled in well, and pretty quickly at that; he's more or less fully adapted, nowadays," you explain.

Mahana nods. "How's uh, your Mareanie, you got one of those, right? After Pacifidlog?"

You smile. "Urchin, yeah. She's settled in very well too, grown into even more of a little gremlin. B.B.'s come around to her."

Mahana's grin grows wider, somehow. "Fuckin' wicked, I say."

You don't know why, but the compliment makes you thrum with pride. Fucking wicked, indeed.

There's a sharp clearing of the throat, and Mahana shoots you a cheeky grin before turning to the people manning the projector. You join her, and find one of the three separated out from the rest, smiling at all of you.

"Welcome, welcome!" the woman says cheerily. "I'm Lan, and these are my long-time coworkers, Hoki and Kamon. The three of us are all from Hoenn, and we've been working in this region for about fifteen years or so. Today, we'll be covering Hoenn's ecosystems, both in terms of things you might have to deal with in the archipelago, and things important on the mainland. We'll be emailing everyone here a transcript of this seminar, as well as an audio recording, if you want to reference it later. This can't be an exhaustive look at Hoenn's ecosystems, as we only have two hours, but we intend to cover a lot of it. Any questions?"

No hands go up, though you do hear a dull murmur run through the crowd.

"Right-i-o! Hoki, you're up then." Lan says, nudging Hoki - the man who let you through the door - forward with a few somewhat-gentle kicks to his leg.

Hoki gives her a long-suffering look, but steps up to the laptop and leans over. A PowerPoint is quickly thereafter brought up, and then made full-screen.

Stepping back, now with a remote in hand, Hoki clears his throat.

"As Lan said, I am Hoki. I'm a rank six ranger, and I've been working in and out of Hoenn's expansive tropical rainforest ecosystems, both ones found on the mainland and out here in the archipelago. A secondary focus of much of my work is meteorological, both on a local scale - the water cycle within rainforest ecosystems - and on a larger scale," he explains patiently, tapping a button on the remote. The PowerPoint slides forward a panel, to reveal a map of Hoenn with what looks to be wind and weather currents marked in countless tangled lines and arrows. "It's important we begin with weather, putting aside recent events, because Hoenn is principally defined by weather. Every region has weather and faces the extremes thereof, but Hoenn is unique for the fact that the vast majority of its weather is what can be considered to be 'extreme' weather. Hoenn often experiences near-hurricane force winds, days-long torrential rain storms, and powerful thunderstorm systems that can flare up without warning. During certain seasons, these already high-intensity weather systems become more severe; you're currently entering the monsoon season, and due to its emerging early, you have likely seen what these monsoons look like. If not, I promise, over the next few weeks, you will come to understand."

Another press of the button, and a new image appears: a less detailed map of Hoenn, with a single line running through it, and with the land itself covered up in great splotches of colour, separating the region out into several distinct biomes, by the look of the writing that was printed across each colour's territory.

"Hoenn sits on our planet's equator, with the equatorial line running through the south of the region's mainland and into the centre of the archipelago. Being on the equator, this means Hoenn is perpetually bombarded by warm ocean currents, and accordingly, vast amounts of moisture, which feed the weather systems I previously mentioned." Hoki sweeps one hand up, gesturing towards the screen. "The single most regular weather system in Hoenn is rain, of which it gets vast amounts in most parts of the region. This rain feeds the rainforests, and the rainforests in turn feed the rain through the water cycle, but rainforests are not all Hoenn has. You can split this region up into several smaller areas, based on the amount of rain you get.

"The first and most obvious example is the aforementioned rainforest." Another click, and the slide changes to show what looks like a heat map of said rainforests, stretching across the northern Hoenn mainland, down over its north-eastern shore, and then spreading out to all the islands on the archipelago. "Hoenn's tropical rainforests make up a large portion of the region, and are some of the oldest ecosystems on Hoenn, with highly-developed and highly active biospheres."

Another click, this time revealing Hoenn with most of the south of the mainland and a few islands beneath it coloured in.

"Next is the tropical, but non-rain-forests. Due to the wind patterns in Hoenn, these areas receive less rain than the rainforests, and thus do not sustain the kinds of moisture needed to support them," Hoki continues. "Make no mistake, these are not arid or dry environments, they're more comparable to standard temperate forests in places like Johto and Kanto, just much hotter. They receive regular rain and storms, all the same, and support dense woodlands as complex as the rainforests."

A third click, the map changing to one with Hoenn's core filled in—Mauville, you remember; it was where you landed, and a location you noticed was unusually arid, even by your standards.

"Finally, there is the region known as Mauville Plains, and it represents one of two dry parts of Hoenn, the other being the route one-eleven valley desert. Mauville Plains, and the area immediately surrounding it, are in what is known as a rain shadow, an area where highlands prevent moisture from reaching it. What you will find here are shrub, intermittent savanna, grasslands, and sparsely-populated woodlands. There are also some dry forests, but they're relatively rare. This part of Hoenn doesn't get quite enough rain to support large-scale forests, but still must deal with Hoenn's perpetual heat, which creates an environment that is in sharp contrast to the rest of Hoenn."

Hoki pauses for a moment, leaning back on his heels.

"These are the three major ecosystem groupings, and each is represented by one of us presenters. My focus is on the rainforest, Lan has extensively worked in the tropical forests, and Kamon studies the grasslands of our region's core," Hoki explains patiently. "But they are not the only ecosystems present in Hoenn. What I feel obliged to reiterate is just how important weather is to how Hoenn has shaped itself; an absence of rain, too much, strong wind patterns, and so on, have given rise to unique pressures, when combined with the local geology. There is no better example than the soot forests of north Hoenn."

The slide changes again, but this time not to a map. Instead, you find yourself looking at a vast stretch of... grey, you realize, grey forest. You squint, trying to pick out details, and find you can recognize none of the trees, and the grey, you think, is some kind of dust or build-up on otherwise hidden green foliage.

"The soot forests of Hoenn are the product of extreme winds that funnel up from the south and south-east, before slamming into Mount Chimney as they pass," Hoki explains slowly. "The end result of this is that the near-perpetual smoke and ash Mount Chimney produces are shoved north, where they then drop out of the sky and settle. This is a novel ecosystem, with nothing identical to it, though surprisingly, Orre has a highland, volcanic area known as Mount Battle which faces similar pressures, but is distinct from the soot forests by virtue of its otherwise alpine and semi-arid environment."

The slide changes again, revealing more ash-covered forests.

"The soot forests of north Hoenn are occupied by what we now understand is a single family of highly-adapted plants. A single common ancestor of these plants developed a unique means of dealing with the perpetual ash fall, which otherwise smothers most plants, through a specialized sap. This sap bonds with the ash on a plant's surface, then quickly hardens and slides off, creating grain-sized chunks of ash that collect around the plant, clearing the surface," Hoki describes, clicking over to an image of one such plant. "They're also all adapted to need less sunlight, due to regular ash-storms, and leech useful nutrients out of deposited ash and other chemicals that come from Mount Chimney. You will find that no trees quite look like the ones you'll find here, and to people who didn't grow up there, there is a distinct scent to the area, as well as a kind of... unusual similarity between species. Trees that tend to grow similar foliage to what you might find sprouting from the grass, as one example."

Hoki smiles, then, a somewhat nervous one, but still a smile.

"I'm actually one such native from the area, so I'm relying on Lan and Kamon not to be lying to me that my homeland does genuinely smell different," he admits, rubbing at the back of his head. "All the same, much like the plants living there, the Pokemon present in the soot forests are similarly adapted. One of the most well-known inhabitants is Spinda, who have adaptations to their fur which protects their skin and eyes from the ash, while also letting them bathe in it to clean off. Another example of the Pokemon in the soot forests is the Hoennian Scraggy line, which are notable for shedding their skin roughly half as often as their Unovan peers, and who have developed a habit of applying ash-filled mud to their bodies to help protect their skin from the elements. There are, of course, also plenty of steel-, ground-, rock-, poison- and fire-type Pokemon, all of whom already commonly possess traits that would let them thrive in an environment like this."

A click, and this time, you're back to a map, depicting the range of the soot forest ecosystem. It extends, you notice, north and west from the summit of Mount Chimney, but stops before it reaches even remotely near the coast. It stretches more west than it does north, really, creating a kind of sideways L-shape as it curves around the highlands that dominate Hoenn's mainland.

"As you can see, the range of this ecosystem is restricted to where the ash itself falls, and it does not cover a large portion of north Hoenn. The severity of the effects this area experiences scales with one's relative proximity to Mount Chimney, and the people who live out here have responded accordingly. You will find domed houses, infrastructure needed to clear year-round ash. If you know your history, you'll also recognize this area as one of Hoenn's two major glass manufacturers, who were the source for the ancient world's Pokemon deterrent flutes. In an age when chemical repels had not yet been invented, they were crucial commodities, and represents how humans engaged in a similar degree of adaptation and exploitation as the local wildlife did."

Hoki smiles, this time less uncertain.

"None of this, I need to reiterate, would be possible without Hoenn's extreme weather patterns. Weaker winds would prevent the ash from being thrown far enough to cover the area you see here, and without the frequent - and often very powerful - rains these areas experience, it would be an ash-covered wasteland," he explains. "The rains that the soot forests of north Hoenn receive are the single most consistent way ash is moved out of the area, where it would otherwise build up. This ash is deposited into the many river systems that sprawl out from Mount Chimney and north towards the coast, where this nutrient-rich ash then feeds the vast rice paddies that define north Hoenn. Without the ash, the land would be much less fertile, and to this day, Hoenn exports twice the amount of rice that Kanto and Johto combined can create."

Another click. The map is back, pulled out so that all of Hoenn can be seen once more. The soot forests of Hoenn are still coloured in, but looking at them like this, with a pulled-away view, they appear so terribly small.

"Everything is connected to the weather, here, and everything has interplay. One would think that these soot forests of Hoenn, where masks are a common piece of clothing, would be the most extreme ecosystems in Hoenn, and there is an argument to be made that it may very well be." Hoki folds his arms behind his back. "But most of the rest of Hoenn is just as extreme, in its own ways. Perpetual crushing storms, jungle so dense it can almost feel like it's choking you, sprawling grasslands with some of the most casually-effective predators on the planet. Hoenn is a big place, and much of it has taken people, Pokemon, and plants incredible amounts of adaptation to thrive in it, but thrive we have."

---

"The tropical forests of south Hoenn are a very happening place," Lan explains to you all, quirking a smile as she extends her arm up. Perched on it is a simple Taillow, who looks, honestly, rather unimpressed with their surroundings. "More than any other part of Hoenn, the south experiences very distinct seasonality. Like the rainforests, we oscillate between dry and wet periods, with accordingly potent effects. There have been times where the forests have gone months without rain, fed only by rivers and stored groundwater, and there are other times when forests flood and soak into near-wetland environments. The Pokemon here, just like Li'l Steve on my arm here, adapt accordingly."

Lowering her arm down, Lan paws around for a moment before finally grabbing the remote from where she left it on the table next to her. She clicks the button, and an image of a dark-furred canine appears up on the screen.

"This is a Poochyena, and they make up one of the major predators in Hoenn, alongside their evolution, Mightyena," Lan explains. "They are mono-dark type, and meet the habits of both canines and dark-type Pokemon by being pack hunters. Unlike most dogs and wolves, though, these suckers are semi-arboreal."

You hear someone in the room cough suddenly, startled.

Your mind churns for a moment, recalling what Suzume said about 'chasing a three-legged Mightyena around'.

...No wonder it took her so long, yeesh.

Lan points to the person who spluttered. "Yes! Finally! Someone who responds like people really should! This is one of very few canines who are appreciably capable of climbing, and so often I don't get anything out of people! Thank you for validating my love for these freaky beasts," she says with rather too much glee. "But, yes, Poochyena and Mightyena are, despite how this picture of them makes them look, capable of climbing vertical surfaces. Their skeletal structure - at least their hips and legs - are actually a lot more like felines than you'd expect, looking at them here, but it's a lot easier to tell when you see them in motion. They're eerily flexible, and they move quietly and with an unreasonable amount of grace.

"In the wild, Poochyena and Mightyena form loose collections which compete for dominance within a limited hierarchy. Mightyena tend to pair up with other Mightyena, and Poochyena with Poochyena, and if one member of a pack evolves too early, they tend to be driven out before they can be allowed to dominate the entire group and monopolize resources," Lan explains. "One of the species' favourite tactics is herding; they'll find a target, preferring groups of Zigzagoon or Taillow, and then set up an ambush. A small part of the group - usually the most dominant - will climb up nearby trees and hide, while the rest converge on their targets, then drive them towards the trees, which they'll climb in their attempt to get away, only to be stopped by awaiting Poochyena or Mightyena. Yes, even the Mightyena do this, and no, you do not quite understand how terrifying it is to find a Pokemon of that size in the tree you want to climb. It's really not fun!"

...You know, you can only imagine.

"Now, granted, Mightyena don't generally hunt humans, they know better, but it's still pretty scary!" Lan quickly adds. "Also, this tree-climbing behaviour is a safety feature for the species as well: Poochyena display a lot of personality, but they can be pretty easily driven off when attacked, so being able to scale a tree in a matter of seconds is useful for them. Poochyena and Mightyena tend to take up different predator niches in ecosystems: Mightyena often migrate north, into wetter areas, to prey on larger targets like Grovyle and Ludicolo, while Poochyena tend to remain south and focus on hunting smaller prey, such as Zigzagoon, Treecko, Taillow and Shroomish, though that last one's a bit dodgy, given the chance of Breloom being in the area."

Finally taking a breath, Lan pauses for a moment to pat "Li'l Steve" on the head a few times, then gently coax the Pokemon down onto the table next to her. The Taillow fluffs its feathers out a bit, gives the rest of you a somewhat ugly look, before beginning to preen one wing.

"Now, while us southerners can't claim the same diversity the archipelago and rainforests get in general, thanks to the presence of additional biodiversity from Alola, we do have a very dynamic ecosystem, as I mentioned," Lan explains patiently, her tone becoming a lot less intense. "Li'l Steve, who is being his best self, is a Taillow, and thus is highly active during dry seasons, and markedly less so during wet ones, where the rain often limits flight options and makes them vulnerable to, say, tree-climbing canines. Conversely, Poochyena and Mightyena are highly active during the wet season, as the rain often muffles their approach and their victims can be impeded by it, while the species themselves has quick-drying coats and eyes well-adapted to low-light conditions, as a result of evolving beneath Hoenn's thick canopy. Mightyena in particular have their best hunting seasons during the rain, as its when their favourite targets are liable to be the most active and willing to range beyond their haunts, where they would have the most advantage. Azumarill, Pelipper, the Mudkip line all become much more frequent parts of their diet, even when facing down poor type and battlefield match-ups."

Lan pauses, this time you think mostly for dramatic effect.

"When it rains in Hoenn, it pours, and no place captures that quite like south Hoenn."

---

"If you have ever considered coming to Hoenn, and gotten as far to receive a vacation brochure from vacationing companies, you might have noticed something odd," Kamon says, rolling his shoulders. "It's generally near the back of the brochure, tucked away, a little warning that they're trying to couch in the right language to both avoid being in trouble for not telling you, while also not scaring you off in the process. It normally says something to the effect of do not pet the Plusle and Minun."

The room is quiet in the wake of Kamon's words. The man scans over all of you patiently.

"Truth be told, I strongly dislike the way vacation companies try to hide the reality of the situation," Kamon continues. "I think by trying to downplay the danger, yet still give enough warning that they won't get in trouble, they fail to actually convey the issue that they're addressing. Tell me, who here has dealt with Plusle and Minun before?"

A few hands go up.

"Ah, I see some haunted looks, too," Kamon says, a laugh in his voice. "You already know where I'm going, so I'll skip the theatrics. To quickly go over the species, Plusle and Minun are a recently-diverged pair of Pokemon which forms two community units: a pair, which consists of a monogamous Plusle and Minun who reproduce, and a swarm, which is a larger community of between eight to fifteen Plusle-Minun pairs. These communities do not claim territory, and the species remains largely nomadic, settling down in grassy areas for a few weeks before moving on. Plusle and Minun are closely enough related that pairs will lay eggs that will hatch into a Plusle or a Minun, as opposed to only the female's species, and pups quickly develop after hatching, remaining with their parents for around a month or so before they head into the wild to find a counterpart to pair with.

"As a swarm, Plusle and Minun maintain safety by utilizing their ability - Plus and Minus - in conjunction with Helping Hand. A single pair is already quite lethal to the average person, given the way electricity works and the inherent fragility of the human body, but they don't stop at that, as they utilize a strategy known as daisy chaining. Daisy chaining is when a Plusle and Minun swarm collectively comes together - signalling the necessity of such an action through high-frequency squeaks that only they and a handful of other Pokemon can hear - and will lock hands into a chain that can and often does contain the entire swarm. At this stage, the group is already extremely dangerous due to Plus and Minus having a compounding effect with each new paired set, but then they start to use Helping Hand in pulses."

You wince. You think half of the room winces.

"One pulse of Helping Hand is usually followed shortly thereafter by an attacking move; Plusle and Minun rarely feel the need to learn moves more potent than Thunder Shock or Swift, because they genuinely do not need it in most circumstances. When you have, on the small side, eight instances of Plus and Minus, combined with sixteen instances of Helping Hand, any low-potency moves quickly becomes capable of turning away even very powerful predators."

Kamon steps back, gesturing towards the screen. A slide changes, and you're presented with a stretch of grasslands that has been blackened into dust, soot, and raw, scorched earth.

"And this, I am excited to tell you, is a prey species," Kamon explains with an air of mirth. "Much like the rainforests and jungles you've been listening to up to this point, my neck of the woods is a high-energy, high-activity area, with powerful predators, large flocks of prey, and no small amount of conflict between the two. Electric-type Pokemon are some of the most common in this part of Hoenn, with the principle apex predator of this area being the Electrike line—who, I want to add, are believed to have developed the Lightning Rod ability specifically to deal with emergent Plusle and Minun. Electrike are no less dangerous than Plusle or Minun, they just tend to be dangerous in other ways, and people are less likely to try to pet a snarling Electrike than they are a Plusle. There are also large swarms of Hoennian Mareep, who produce wool better suited to insulating from heat, as compared to Johtonian Mareep, who are more adapted to cold weather."

Another change in slide, this time to an image of a grassland, a pack of Electrike chasing after a Manectric on the distant horizon.

"Part of the reason for the high quantity of electric-type Pokemon in this part of Hoenn comes down to large deposits of magnetite in surrounding cave systems, but also due to high levels of static that are present in this region," Kamon continues. "The same winds that force Mount Chimney's ash north help to produce extreme amounts of friction through dust and other airborne litter. Wind scours the land here, with constant gales that make flying-type Pokemon have to fight to remain stable in the air, all the while they're hunted by predators below them. It should come as no surprise that flying-type Pokemon are rare here.

"It is also, I should say, simply a really good environment for the Pokemon present in it. Yes, some of this is natural environments shaping the inhabitants, but open savanna is ideal for our regional electric rodent, who enjoy hiding in dense grass, as well as for packs of Electrike and even wide-grazing Mareep," Kamon explains. "Joining them are, despite the aridity, no small amount of grass-type Pokemon, who are less vulnerable to the potent electric-type Pokemon present, as well as a variety of other Pokemon who best thrive in grasslands. This is also the location of some of the larger population of Gulpin and Swalot, though they tend to range closer to Mount Chimney, as opposed to acting out in the wider grasslands."

Another slide, this time a close-up of a herd of Mareep, milling next to a water source.

"Fights in the plains often come down to whether or not the predator has singled out the prey. A Manectric is unlikely to go after Plusle and Minun to begin with - they're often not substantial enough to justify - but Electrike hone their skills against them by necessity, and will quickly abandon a hunt the second a Plusle and Minun pair can connect up with even one or two other pairs. Often times, typing plays much less of a role in these hunts, due to either being of the same type, or not having much in the way of advantages," he explains. "Resources are not scarce in our plains, I should say, but they can be limited. Monopolization of watering holes, especially during droughts, can lead to conflicts between Pokemon who otherwise rarely interact, such as between Manectric and Blaziken. Bug-type Pokemon often have boom and bust years, which further influences the availability of feeding spots and the dangers of moving into dense grass. The migration of Volbeat and Illumise can create the needed pressures to send the savanna into disarray, with packs and swarms fighting over optimal shaded spots, food, and more, all the while less potent predators and prey eke out a life in the margins between the major players.

"Mobility is key, in these plains, and every species knows it," Kamon says with no small amount of finality. "Even us humans do, as nomadic herding traditions remained constant for thousands of years in the plains, even as vast cities sprung up like trees all across Hoenn. Very few Pokemon claim long-term territories out here, because long-term territories do not work outside of urban centres, where food and water can be consistent. A watering hole may be full one year, empty for the next three, and only collect enough to be a suitable drinking spot in the years after. While very few things change permanently, they do change, switch around, and force the movement of populations to ensure continued survival. An unlucky route can end an entire pack of Electrike, as a herd of Phanpy and Donphan will not let them live if they can help it. A swarm of Plusle and Minun can find themselves in areas where the grass is not growing after drought conditions, and be forced into smaller and smaller areas, to contend with other prey and predator species, where their reactionary response of daisy-chaining and dusting perceived hostiles can often lead to them being snuffed out by the predators they subsequently draw the attention of.

"At the end of the day, the features change, the grass grows, and the wind blows. But it is still a land defined by great predators, highly-specialized prey, and nomads."

---

You leave the seminar with a hug from Mahana and a head full of new information.

Suddenly, Noriaki seeming so disinterested in the storms that his ship could deal with makes a lot more sense.

---

The sun is in the process of setting: a chubby, orange blob clinging to the horizon, casting warm light over everything.

Ahead of you, Akia Island stretches on and out, your line of sight vanishing into a dense forest beyond. Most of it may be dead, but it still stands as a wall of green, from which nothing else can be seen. From here, you can just make out the worksite up on the hill, though the gloom obscures much of it.

The beach you've found yourself on is wide, with a shallow slope leading down into dark, glistening waves. Further up the beach, an area has been flattened, and then a hole has been dug and filled with now-burning logs, throwing up smoke, embers and light into the air. It's ringed by an ankle-high wall of bricks, containing the fire.

The air is thick with humidity and insects, and while it's not blistering hot, it is certainly still feverish. The heat seems to be fading with the descent of the sun, but honestly, the light seems to be leaving quicker than the warmth is.

There's more people out and about than you can reasonable count, milling around the fire. There's Pokemon out too, lazing with their partners, and you can spot, amid the crowd, various ice boxes and stalls, presumably packed with drinks and food.

Gretchen and Suzume stand on either side of you: the former is wearing a form-fitting, short-sleeved shirt, with a high neckline and a long enough torso to nearly reach her knees, coupled with shorts and sneakers. The latter is dressed in a button-up t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jean shorts, and strappy sandals.

You finish the party-going outfits off with your ever-reliable overalls, thrown over a tank-top, and paired with a spare set of shoes.

"Let's find the booze!" Gretchen declares, stepping forward to take the lead, and just like that, you're off.

You follow Gretchen through the crowd, Suzume keeping close to your side, and before long, you find yourself on your way towards one of the several iceboxes. There's a person sitting next to it in a beach chair, with short curly hair and a smile that widens as you approach.

"Hey there! You looking for some drinks?" they ask, patting the icebox next to them.

"Sure am, what do you have?" is Gretchen's swift reply.

"Regular ol' Hoenn-made beer, but it's good stuff, I like to think," they explain, throwing the lid open and quickly retrieving three tall glass bottles. They pass them over to Gretchen, one after another, who trades them back to the two of you. "Now, just some rules here. One, there's a bunch of us hanging around the booze and food, and we're all going to be sober. If you have a problem, come to us; we're keeping an eye out, and I'd like to say nothing bad happens at these parties, but that'd be a lie. We miss things sometimes, so if you see something wrong, tell us. Next, we'll cut you if you're too drunk; it's just policy. Otherwise, while I have beer, we've got cider, wine, and other stuff, you just gotta go looking for it."

You fish the bottle-opener out of your multitool and crack the cap on your beer open. The second you do, two more bottles magically find themselves presented in front of you, and with an amused laugh, you pop Gretchen and Suzume's open as well.

"Sounds good, right girls?" Gretchen says.

You grunt in approval, Suzume nods.

"Good! Go and have fun, then, you can always come back for more beer."

Speaking of fun, you start scanning your surroundings for activities, and find quite a few. There's a horseshoes tournament going on off to one side, and you reckon you could show them why everyone refused to play horseshoes with you back home. There's some beach volleyball, what looks to be a contest for who can bounce a ball for the longest without it touching the ground, foot races, and more. You can hear someone blaring music from a large, somewhat fuzzy-sounding boombox, and there's some loud cheering down near the waves. There's additional food, tons of people, curious Pokemon, and so much more.

You have an entire night to spend, the only question is, what kind of mischief do you want to get up to?

Choice (Pick 2):

The Banette Line: Cursed Doll and Malevolent Spect

HGC

Pokedex Entries: Shuppet: #353, Banette: #354

A comprehensive field study of the Banette's evolutionary history, exploring the legends of their unsettling origins, behavioral traits, and enigmatic place in supernatural ecosystems. Though often dismissed as mere urban legends, these Pokémon command respect, both as potential allies and as vengeful spirits with deep and unforgiving memories.

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Shuppet: The Whispering Shade

Shuppet is a small, ghostly Pokémon that thrives in areas of residual emotional energy, particularly those suffused with resentment, envy, or malice. It resembles a floating cloth with a single horn protruding from its head, an organ that allows it to sense and absorb negative emotions. This ability makes Shuppet naturally drawn to places where human emotions run high—abandoned homes, graveyards, and the outskirts of bustling cities where jealousy festers in the dark.

Contrary to popular belief, Shuppet is not inherently malevolent. It does not seek to harm but rather to feed, consuming negative emotions like sustenance. In doing so, it is sometimes credited with easing tensions in haunted locations, though prolonged presence can create a dependency where humans unconsciously generate negative energy to sustain it.

Shuppet is nocturnal, gathering in small clusters under eaves and rooftops where lingering resentments are strongest. They are particularly active after arguments or betrayals, feeding on the emotional aftermath. Some cultures consider the presence of a Shuppet a warning sign of growing discord, while others see them as cleansing spirits, removing harmful emotions from their hosts.

Shuppet's attachment to strong negative emotions serves as the catalyst for its evolution into Banette. Once a Shuppet fixates on a specific grudge, absorbing enough energy to fuel its transformation, its physical form changes dramatically—giving rise to one of the most infamous and unsettling Ghost-types known to exist.

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Banette: The Living Curse

Banette is the result of Shuppet's transformation into a being fueled entirely by hatred and vengeance. Its appearance mirrors that of a discarded plush doll, with a body stitched together and a sinister grin permanently sewn into its face. The most notable feature of Banette is the zipper running across its mouth—sealing within it the very malice that sustains its existence. Legends say that if Banette ever unzips its mouth, the curse within will be unleashed, though few have dared to test this claim.

Banette's origins remain one of the most chilling mysteries among Ghost-types. Some researchers speculate that its form is influenced by the residual emotions of abandoned toys, discarded by careless owners. This theory is reinforced by numerous reports of Banette appearing near landfills, forgotten toy stores, and childhood bedrooms long left behind. Those who encounter a Banette often describe an unsettling sensation of being watched, followed by a creeping sense of guilt—suggesting that the Pokémon's presence serves as both a manifestation of past wrongs and a judgment upon those who abandon what once held value.

Unlike Shuppet, which feeds passively on negative emotions, Banette actively seeks out the source of its rage. It moves with purpose, hunting down those responsible for its pain with eerie persistence. However, not all Banette are driven by revenge—some simply linger in places of sorrow, existing in a state of brooding hatred without ever acting upon it. This variance in behavior has led some researchers to believe that Banette's aggression is dictated by the intensity of the emotions that created it.

Trainers seeking to befriend a Banette must exercise extreme caution. If a Banette has not yet found the source of its grudge, it may latch onto its trainer as a substitute, forming a bond of twisted loyalty. Though its power in battle is formidable, one must always be wary of the lingering malice that defines its existence.

---

Conclusion: A Testament to Neglect and Vengeance

The Banette line serves as an eternal reminder of the consequences of abandonment and lingering hatred. While Shuppet acts as a passive collector of malice, Banette is an active force of vengeance, embodying the pain of being cast aside. Whether seen as a cautionary tale or a formidable ally, these Pokémon remain among the most unnerving denizens of the supernatural world.

For those who choose to train a Banette, respect and care are paramount. A grudge never forgotten is a grudge never forgiven—and in Banette's case, its wrath may long outlive its trainer.