AN: Sorry about how long it's been, I took a break.
This chapter went through not one, but two-and-a-half rewrites.
It's an important one—some of the first 'canon' events, and after Ott043 got the first version and said 'Continuity bad,' it's sort of been in limbo as I write 23. This is why having a second pair of eyes really helps things, especially when I write while tipsy.
Having said that, thank you, Ott043, for the 56 notes on what needed addressing No, I'm not kidding about that number, and many of them had more than one thing to think about. They helped me decide to just overhaul whole sections, even if the bones are still the same.
Enjoy.
"It's because you need to attach the sounds to the characters," I explain, simply getting more confusion from Espeon. "It's…" I was about to say 'It's not that hard,' but I have several unfair advantages. "This might work better if we had Weaver here to read to you," I admit.
I taste consolation, acceptance, and then curiosity. And looking at the psychic cat, he's staring at the door. Following his gaze, I see a turtwig I recognize.
"New," The tortoise says.
"Yeah, I kind of got swept up in things," I say, blinking at the form
behind Turtwig.
"Normal," He surmises, hands reaching out to pick him up as a woman, Maya, steps down the hall, and the
dragon that was behind the small pokemon enters the room.
"Are you going to cause problems?" He curtly asks, reptilian eyes doing their best to intimidate me.
It's… Not all that effective. Sorry, guy, but you're not Marshal and I just can't believe you'd start something here. "No?" I ask him, wanting to roll my eyes as I taste a certain cat's
fear. "And I'm trying to help Espeon with reading, stop trying to look scary."
The lizard grimaces, stepping forward, "Do you understand how things work in human spaces?"
Don't laugh.
Don't laugh in his face. "Yeah, pretty well I'd say," I tell the frowning pokemon, not quite keeping a gigg- chuckle. Keeping a
chuckle in. "Weaver did some explaining, too."
The dragon's frown deepens, but he backs off. Keeping his eyes on me, he retreats just as the large ranger from yesterday, Weaver called him Karlos, trudges into view, the man currently clad in pajamas. "Hmm," He comments on seeing me, glancing down at the lizard, "You're not trying to push them around are you, Gabite?"
Oh, that was its name, I could remember garchomp, but not the two before it.
The dragon, Gabite, doesn't reply in any way, moving past Karlos and presumably to the kitchen space.
Karlos sighs, the action morphing into a yawn as he visibly tries to wake up, "Don't mind him, he's all bark and no
bite," The man jokes, smiling at his own wording. "Can't say I'm surprised to see you here, after last night. Onaga already on her run?"
He's being pretty casual about this, but if it
is relatively normal… "Yeah," I nod.
He nods back, "I'd offer some breakfast, but I've been told that's not how it works for you. Espeon?"
I glance at the cat, who's looking a bit hunched. "I- I'm fine…" He says, shaking his head.
Karlos looks a bit begrudging as he sees that, but seems to accept it, "Well, it'll be there if you want it," He yawns again before moving off.
"Right, where were we?" I ask, turning back to the TV.
There's relief and gratitude as Espeon uncurls himself, blinking at the screen for a moment, "The c- combinations? I can't m- memorize them."
"I don't think you're expected to learn this that fast," I tell him. "I think the idea is to watch them occasionally until Weaver or Onaga thinks you're ready to move on."
"But you made it so far already!" He protests, not stuttering for once.
I sigh, dealing with a child wasn't something I had planned. "I did, but I have the advantage of already knowing how to read two languages and not being able to forget anything," I explain, calmly. "Reading isn't something you can learn instantly, and I can't even read any of this yet, I just have the letters and numbers memorized."
Espeon looks between me and the still-paused TV, "I just w- want to go w- with them," He almost whines. He's getting upset, impatience, sorrow, and yearning practically spilling off him.
Then there's a spike of pain, desperation, and apathy, and he sidles closer to me, "I- I want to be good enough," He whispers, kneading at the floor.
Oh boy, what do I even say to that? That he doesn't need to be? That he is? But I don't know, and it'll probably sound disingenuous. …Or he can probably tell if I mean what I say, can't he? "Okay, I'm going to be completely honest. I don't think that's how she looking at it," I tell the cat.
"I know it's not!" Espeon snaps, then flinches hard enough to scratch the floor. He wasn't even angry there, only afraid. "I know s- she's not like th- that," He says, much more softly. "B- But I keep th- thinking she might…" He trails off.
I'm not good with kids, and Espeon needs someone who knows what they're doing. Which is
just great because I think he's stuck with me at the moment… Or I'm stuck with him, either way.
I hit stop on the VCR, deciding that we're not going to get back to that anytime soon, "That she might what?" I ask, trying to be gentle about it and realizing that I failed.
"That she might get rid of me," He breathes out, then he starts breathing faster.
Oh boy, I'm tasting more now, too. From what I've heard from Weaver and what I gathered yesterday, my being here should help keep him from spiraling. Which is good because I don't know what else to do right now. …except maybe to get a bit of distance so he's not aware of what I'm feeling.
Espeon and I have been communicating that way since last night. He seems more comfortable with that than talking, and it isn't really hard to do for me. …Am I technically an empath?
I need to focus on Espeon, the skinny, shaking cat stumbling into a corner and curling in on himself. There's a lot of
fear, some pain, nausea, and a concerningly large amount of vague, unformed tastes all coming in waves. His eyes aren't focused, staring at nothing as he looks down.
I- There should be something else I can do. Something in my memories somewhere?
…
He needs to stop hyperventilating and focus on something, right. "Espeon," I say, and while his eyes turn up at me, they don't
focus on me. "Espeon, look at me." This time he does seem to focus, and I think that's good. "Okay, can you hold your breath for a moment?"
"Y- Y- Yes," He says between hitching breaths, then does so.
"Good, now breathe out
slowly," I instruct, drifting a bit and seeing his eyes not follow. "And keep focusing on me." His eyes snap to me again, as he exhales in a halting, stuttering pattern. I drift a bit more, and see him follow the movement, "And now breathe in,
slowly," I say, as he tries to suck in a breath as fast as possible.
I keep this up for several long moments… maybe minutes, making sure he's watching me and slowing down his breathing.
"Thank- Thank you," He whispers, a little while after the shaking stops. "Nothing e- ever helped before, and they'd always-" He stops, pain rolling off him.
"Try not to think about…" I trail off, knowing it doesn't work like that. I do know something I learned recently, though, "Try focusing on the room instead, on everything in it and what's going on
right now."
He dutifully does so, and even if he's still afraid, and now tired, he's not panicking anymore.
"Right, and I think you might want to eat something, too."
▲▲▲
▼▼▼
Charlie is really nice. I can tell they're getting bored and impatient, but they're still helping me. Even if they were
very insistent on my eating more.
"I know h- how it works," I tell them, trying and still failing to stabilize myself, "I've done it b- before. I- It was a lot easier before I e- evolved." Before everything felt like so much
more.
They sigh, the corona of impatience growing a little before it recedes, replaced with resignation. "Maybe this won't work for you," They say, looking out over the path away from home. Home! "Or maybe it's harder for an actual psychic," Charlie muses, and their curiosity spikes for a moment.
Looking at them, they've frozen in place, the only movement being the maelstrom I'm sitting inside. There's still nothing to reach for, nothing within them to see and understand. Almost like a dark-type, but I can
see them, can
feel them. Yet… there's
nothing there. I don't get it.
Charlie drifts up, removing me from the maelstrom—and thus from their emotions, as fragmentary as they are. "Let me try something," They say, their movements steadying into a flow instead of the twitching, rippling nature they normally take.
And then something I do feel at this distance,
power, flowing through them in calm, serene patterns as they descend closer to me. Oh, I get it. That's what Charlie's doing, passing their calm onto me.
It's… nice, to feel calm again for once. I yawn. Oh, am I that tired…? And… even with the dawning sun pouring into me… I've been so afraid to sleep…
…
When did I start dreaming?
▲▲▲
▼▼▼
After my run, I'm not surprised to find Espeon napping on the roof, soaking in the sun. I
am a bit surprised to see Misdreavus hovering over him with a bored look, however.
When I get close enough, Espeon unsurprisingly stirs, blinking his glowing white pupils at me. Rather than a message, I'm glad to feel him opening-
He's… there's something lingering, but he's feeling great right now. Also sleepy, I'm a bit glad I drank that tea earlier.
I give him a long look as I wait for him to realize…
Contrition. Curiosity. Entreatment.
That's better. I nod, feeling him start pushing the connection again. `But when I say stop, you
stop. Understand?` He does, I can tell, so I continue moving as the three pokemon meet up for a moment.
There's no real need to rush today, which is nice since it means I can enjoy breakfast.
Satiation.
Yes, I figured he'd already eaten, but I still haven't beyond a handful of dried oats and nuts. And thinking about that…
I open the door to the central hallway, already smelling eggs, butter, and toast. Entering the kitchenette, everyone's already eating, with a plate waiting for me on the counter.
"There she is!" Karlos calls. "Got an early start today?"
"Yeah," I tell him, grabbing my plate and sliding into a seat. "Figured I might as well."
***
"And you actually have less leeway when it comes to fighting in a city," I say, continuing my explanation as I clean the saddles, "Even if it's a friendly battle, there's too much risk of damage or injury."
Glancing at one of the pokemon, as I can tell the other is paying attention, I see that Misdreavus still is, even if they're clearly also still somewhat bored. Realistically, Espeon doesn't need most of this since he was
definitely raised in captivity, but I need to tell them all this anyway.
"So unless you're actually in danger, please take any fighting outside the city," I resume, "And if you
are in danger for whatever reason, we'd prefer if you simply run, first. Treat fighting as a last resort."
Misdreavus nods, expression remaining unchanged, and Espeon simply absorbs what I'm saying.
Hmm, was that everything? The theft issue a lot of wilds have, personal property, private spaces and human privacy, what we expect from partner pokemon, fighting and battling… The way people will likely start treating them, right.
Wringing my cloth out, I start wiping the cleaner off the saddle I'm working on, "And something to remember is that people will start knowing you're ranger partners. They might approach you while you're on your own, or other pokemon might come to you first with issues they have," I tell the two, then glance up at some movement.
Weaver has started balancing on the fence surrounding the runner station, making more and more exaggerated movements. I suppose I have been talking about this for a while.
I look back at what I'm doing, "If you can resolve whatever issue they have then that's great, but don't. There are several problems, mostly stemming from the fact that you aren't technically your own people, legally speaking." I sigh, "You both can and can't be held liable for certain things, it's nothing to do with you in particular, but it comes from being registered as partners instead of citizens. So please come get Weaver or me first if anyone asks you to do something that sounds even remotely related to what we do. I'd rather not deal with the legal headache."
Judging the saddle clean, I stand and hang it from one of the pegs to dry. Turning to face the two new pokemon, I continue, "Most people will likely respect you enough to leave you alone, and I hope it should go without saying, but don't attack anybody. Unless they pose an immediate threat to
someone else you either run or get one of us." I glance back at Weaver, "Which does include Weaver now, as she's a licensed enforcer."
"Vile vile, Weave vile," Weaver says to the other two, leaning back until she falls off the post, landing on her feet.
Drying my hands, I start walking for the gate, "And that's about it for the basics, don't worry if you slip up once or twice, it's expected."
That makes Weaver and Misdreavus giggle for some reason. But for as erratic as she can seem, Weaver is both reliable and friendly, so I'm assuming it's some kind of joke the two have between them.
"There will be a few more things if you end up staying long enough, but that can all wait. You can do what you want for the rest of the day, now," I tell the two young pokemon. "Just be back before midnight, and don't give Weaver trouble if she comes looking for you." Misdreavus looks thoughtful at that, though I don't know them well enough to tell why.
Looking at the sky, I want to say it's getting close to noon. I've already done most of the basic maintenance tasks, so the majority of what's left is cleaning. After putting all the supplies for the saddles away, I make my way inside to see about lunch.
I'm only just stepping inside when my radio blares, not with the normal three chimes of a standard connection, but the keening whine of an emergency. Not good.
"All rangers in the Vien Forest area, respond. At least one currently unknown pokemon has entered Ranger Academy grounds and is attacking indiscriminately. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. Immediate aid requested," …That's Miss April's voice, the lead operations teacher.
Why would a pokemon attack the school? It's staffed mostly by former rangers and operators, all of whom should know how to prevent anything like that. Thinking about it, they should have been able to handle it on their own…
I'm already turning around, heading back to call some runners as I hear Karlos' office door slam open.
***
Karlos and I are just past the East end of the city as we pass the last two people in sight, who look like laborers that we need to swerve around. But the road is clear after that.
We can have the runners pick up the pace now, then. "Any chance you could go faster?" I ask, earning a glare from the left head but an eager look from the middle, the last keeping its eyes locked in front of us.
The three don't exactly argue, and there's a jolt as they move to full speed. The trees and markers by the road whip by, and before long I can see the bridge to the Island. "Don't slow down on the bridge, keep going!" I call over the rush of wind.
One of Dodrio's heads glances back at me and nods, croaking at the other two. And then we hit the bridge, the thudding impacts of wide, sharp talons probably damaging the surface, but not destroying it the way they would if Dodrio had braked on it.
Weaver looks like she wants to smile as her crest ruffles in the wind, but she doesn't. She knows what an emergency can mean, and is trying to stay stoic-seeming. I glance back to see where Karlos and Gabite are and see that they're slowly falling behind, either not wanting to damage the bridge or not wanting to push the mount who's already overloaded.
It takes less than two seconds to cross the strait, and only a few more to see the academy grounds. "Jump!" I call to Dodrio, not wanting to spend the time opening the gates.
They do so, vaulting the brick wall and for an instant everything is weightless. Then, a moment later, I see the main building, along with what seems like the entire student body standing in the courtyard.
Dodrio starts braking on their own, tearing up the grass until we hit the dirt path and continuing for several meters after. Once we've shed enough speed I swing off, Weaver leaping in front of me, and I quickly check on Dodrio. They're shaking their heads a bit, until one head pecks the other two and they seem to settle, squawking at each other. Hmm. Deciding it's nothing, Weaver and I run for the school, slowing when we see one of the green-clad teachers make his way to the front of the crowd.
I also spy a familiar face lighting up about halfway back, but I can't focus on Francios right now.
I don't remember the teacher's- No, I do, it's Mr. Kaplan, head of the pacification and resolution courses… Also the RED specialist. That's not good, he's the best at getting pokemon to stop and figuring out their issues.
"What's the situation?" I ask, doing my best to sound in control as I approach my old teacher.
"Tangrowth-" He begins, then shakes his head, "Two tangrowth just… appeared inside and started attacking everything in sight. We got most of the students out of the way, but some are still inside, in the broadcasting room." He glances down, and I follow his gaze to my RED, "I don't know what's going on, but they aren't responding to anything, words or empathy." He looks at his own device, hanging from a belt clip, "Using the RED was like pushing through quicksand, something's wrong."
There's a crash from somewhere inside the school, followed shortly by a buzz and flash of lightning. Mr. Kaplan pales, "Clair was still inside, guarding the broadcast room. I think she's got a few of her old pokemon team with her-" Another flash, this one accompanied by a boom of thunder, "-And I think the tangrowth found her."
Glancing at Weaver, we share a nod, deciding to not waste any more time. Weaver places herself ahead of me again as we start sprinting for the doors, spotting Karlos and Gabite dismounting as we do.
The inside is a mess, tiles fractured, lighting smashed, the walls have cracks and craters in them as well, and there's water pooling from broken pipes that Weaver freezes as she steps over it. The main stairs have been torn apart- I pause.
Why are the main stairs broken like that? I follow the trail with my eyes. Either the tangrowth retreated down there, or they came
up that way. And if the sounds I'm hearing are right, then they aren't down there right now. What in all of Kimetsune's plans happened here?
Another flash, bang, and the smell of ozone break me from my thoughts, leading us deeper, through the trail of destruction. Down a hall, past the lecture theaters, through an indoor arena, and finally to where I can see the school's radio room, Ms. Kaplan with one of her pokemon, and two very angry…
That's not anger. Angry tangrowth would be grappling and draining, these two are flailing. A male and female, larger than normal at around two-and-a-half meters, distinguished by the brighter patterns on the female, though the male has been struck a few times, charred and deadened vines littering the floor.
"Glad someone got here in time," I hear Mrs. Kaplan, Clair, call, and I look her way. The wild-haired brunette has her manectric… Lucky? Running circles around the tangrowth while keeping herself as far as she reasonably can from the wild pokemon. "Only one of my team is listening to me right now, and I had to snap him out of something. Any chance you can help?"
The first thing to try in this situation is the RED, but from what Mr. Kaplan said, I don't know how well that's going to go. "Weaver," I glance at her, "Get ready for a fight." Ideally, we don't want it to go that far, but it might be needed.
Weaver looks ready, air condensing to fog around her. Her outline becomes hazy as she makes no verbal response, almost seeming to melt away as she moves, not placing herself in the fight, but instead flanking the one closer to Clair at an oblique angle, ready to move if the situation warrants it.
Right, let's see what he meant by 'pushing through quicksand,' then. It's unusual to get any feedback from a RED, but it can happen around stronger pokemon.
Stepping at the same angle as Weaver along the outside of the hall, I arm and activate the device.
Oh. It's like there's… resistance, like something is actively pushing back. 'Quicksand' was the right way to put it.
One of the large grass-types, the one closer to me, lashes out at nothing. That would be okay normally, but it scares the other one out of Lucky's distracting dance around them and into attacking. Lucky acts first, and Weaver, knowing she can't out-speed lightning, waits until after the electricity finishes grounding out before she makes several swipes at the tangled pokemon. Notably, the vines she cut don't regrow instantly, the severed ends now black with frostbite.
That distracts the wounded tangrowth enough to make me feel comfortable focusing on the female instead. I'm still trying to push through with the RED, but it's barely even accepting power. I'm going to mentally exhaust myself long before doing so physically, maybe ten minutes at this rate.
Movement,
fast, has me ducking back from a vine swipe, the second tangrowth now watching- She's not looking at me, she's not looking at anything. I can see the eyes below all the vines, and they aren't focused, spinning in their sockets.
Except she's still attacking me. Grunting, I swing the RED up into 'single-handed mode,' pressing the inductor against my wrist as I hold it to my chest.
What has them acting like this? It's obviously not natural and they seem to be acting in panic more than anything. …I have a bad feeling that I know what I need to do to get through to them, though, and it's a very stupid idea.
Which means I'm not getting through to them, not without significant effort. I'm not going to keep pushing the RED if it's not going to do anything without being closer. I spare a look at Clair, if she and her pokemon had a way to restrain the tangrowth then they would have used it by now.
"Weaver, We need to knock them out," I call, sighing internally at the necessity.
Clair and Lucky have been fighting at a disadvantage to keep two large, strong, and wild pokemon from hurting anyone. Weaver is a dark and ice-type, that is to say, cold is a very good descriptor if she wants it to be, a good counter to a grass-type.
However, she's also not like Clair's battle-trained pokemon. He'd been holding his own despite the common disadvantages electric-types have against grass-types. So as Weaver darts in, faster than anything else here, and starts cutting-
I'm slammed off my feet by a blow to my side. Rolling I manage to stand, and remember that I shouldn't get distracted. By the First that
hurt! But I don't think anything's broken, thankfully.
Right, can't watch what's happening over there now that I have one of the tangrowth coming after me. Can I disengage? Maybe, but given how she's acting there's a good chance she starts going after either Weaver or Clair. Might be time to try that stupid idea then.
Maneuvering around swiping vines, I'm clipped by several, but they're only glancing blows and I manage to avoid the worst of it. I duck low under three swipes and am almost tripped by a fourth, but the pokemon simply isn't targeting them well, not boxing me in like they normally would. Actually… some of the swings seem to be striking each other, several even wrapping around the pokemon's main manipulators as if to restrain them. It's almost like she truly
doesn't know what's going on.
I'm close to the vine-mass' torso now, and it's a guarantee that I'll be-
Flames and fury! That one hit me square in the side, the same side I'd already been slammed in.
Gods, I'm not looking forward to the bruises and soreness later. I stagger from it, but getting closer is still the goal right now.
I watch the next vine that lashes out, ready… NOW! I grab the limb, using the return swing to land
on top of the pokemon, sinking slightly into the bushy armor.
Right, that's any range issues taken care of, now I just need to deal with Tangrowth starting to shake and buck. Though she isn't swiping at me anymore, at least, or even wrapping me all that much. I'm even more shocked she isn't releasing spores, but that's an intensive action and I don't think she has the
ability to focus right now.
Wrapping one arm around a set of the tangling vines, I bring my RED up with the other and bring it closer to the pokemon's central mass. Using both hands again, I activate the empathy device, pushing it as hard as I can. And now I can try refocusing my emotions since I'm not trying to dodge a mass of tentacles anymore.
Maybe I'm doing this wrong, if it feels so much like trying to push through thick mud, then force isn't the answer. I need to relax, a task that isn't made easier by the flailing pokemon I'm holding on to.
Or… is Tangrowth slowing down?
A blast of dark wind distracts me for an instant and I nearly lose my grip. No time to question it, focus. I need to clear my head, to think of wellness and peace, of wanting to help, not everything else going on. Just keep doing that and get ready to start easing off on the RED.
Before I can start relaxing my struggle with the empathy device, something changes. Everything goes fuzzy and I lose my grip, rolling off the twisting pokemon.
I hit the ground, managing to twist so I land sideways. What happened? I'm still pushing- I stop pushing the exhausting piece of technology, releasing the vice-grip I had on the trigger. I saw, and felt, something change, but I'm too dizzy to put it together, everything is swimming…
***
A cold slap has me groaning, trying to piece the last few moments together. The pounding headache and exhaustion tie in nicely with what I manage to piece together through the fuzziness.
Blinking my eyes open, I'm still in the hallway, Weaver in front of me. I have a bit of trouble getting my arms to cooperate in sitting myself up off the floor, but I manage. "How long?" I ask, trying not to hiss at the ache in my everything.
"Weavile," Weaver supplies, equivocating.
"A minute," Mrs. Kaplan says, tending to her manectric's head, "I'd call you an idiot, but you'll probably be getting enough of that. And you did manage to stop one of the tangrowth."
"Nothing I haven't heard before," I say, now allowing myself another groan as I stand and look around.
One very wounded tangrowth is resting by a far wall, eyes downcast, and the other is looking extremely uncomfortable, standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall. Weaver is giving me a
look. The
'why do I let you do this,' look.
I rub my head, trying and failing to alleviate the headache that I just
know is going to follow me all day, "They both stopped?"
"The one you managed to calm down has just been standing there," Mrs. Kaplan confirms, pulling a berry from somewhere and feeding it to Lucky. "And that weavile has some spirit. What even happened with yours?"
"Give me a moment," I say, leaning against a wall. The last few seconds there are mostly a fuzzy blur. What
did happ-
Oh,
that's what it was, all the resistance vanished suddenly. I exhausted myself with one burst because I was pushing the RED like an
idiot.
"I did something stupid that probably didn't even work," I say, earning a chuckle. "No one else came to help?" I ask, getting ready to push myself off the wall.
"No, not yet," Clair says, frowning. "That's weird, right?"
"Maybe something else came up…" I trail off, not wanting the hassle of thinking about it right now. I decide it's not worth it, pushing myself off the wall, "Or I might leave all the mysteries to someone else, I'm tired."
"I'd imagine, from what Cap tells me about those resonance-things," Clair says with a laugh, tension bleeding out of her as the former trainer gives me a friendly slap on the back.
"What happened here?" A voice says, and I force my eyes to the source. Another ranger, someone I don't recognize.
"A lot," Clair casually says, giving me one last commiserating pat on the shoulder before moving off to check inside the radio room.
"You okay?" The new ranger asks. "You look like crap."
I sigh, not bothering to answer or look at his badge as I start heading for the outside. Impolite, sure, but I can't be bothered right now.
I need to find Karlos, and- Right, my radio.
"Who's on right now?" I sigh into the device.
"Figured it was going to be that kind of day after the emergency broadcast," Barry's voice replies. "What do you need?"
If that's how he's responding… "Nobody's told you what's going on?"
"I've heard from Anri, but if you sound like that then I assume everything's sorted?"
"I wouldn't go that far," I say, stepping out through the shattered doors and onto the dirt path, "But the tangrowth aren't attacking anybody now."
And I see that more rangers did arrive, mostly on runners, but there are a few with fliers that really should have been here first.
"Nothing from Karlos?" I ask after relaxing for a moment. Probably a bad idea, but I'm too tired.
"No nothing yet- Hold on," Barry instructs, the line going dead. Leaving me to explain what I know to everyone who just noticed me,
great. Oh, and there's Karlos, too.
Wait, why are they all holding their partners like that? The pokemon look scared-
"Break it up!" I hear Holt's voice, everyone going quiet at her volume. "Ranger Onaga, you were the one who pacified the pokemon inside?" She asks, approaching with a power walk.
"Yes," I respond, holding in both another groan and a sigh. "Two tangrowth, both seemingly confused as to what was happening, one had to be fought down." I blink through my exhaustion at something that seems relevant, "I believe they came from inside the academy."
Holt clicks her tongue, "Nothing about today can be normal, can it?" She mutters. "Fought down? Partner or enforcer?"
"Enforcer, Weaver," I say pointing at the pokemon in question. "And me, to an extent."
That makes her curse quietly, "Was anyone else hurt?" Well, at least it's only one person asking all this now.
***
"Many of these rooms haven't been used in years," Principal Lamont—because I refuse to use his family name—explains, leading the two of us Holt chose to investigate through the sub-level hallways. "I'd need to go looking for any keys we might need."
"I doubt we'll need keys," Holt comments, tracing the damage to everything with her eyes.
"No, perhaps not," Lamont agrees, doing the same.
And they're right, as we reach yet another door that's been broken open, the walls around it torn through as well.
"They definitely came from in there," I say, looking at the destruction.
"Who spends the most time down here?" Holt asks, turning to face Lamont.
The graying man hums, considering, "Vice Principal Kincaid? Though that is because both his office and the mechanics department are on the other end of the school, down here," He replies.
"And has Kincaid been around recently?" She asks.
"No, not recently, that I've seen. And he started his annual vacation yesterday," Lamont says, rubbing his chin. He sighs, "Sorry, I just realized everything is going to be held up even more than I thought."
Holt nods, turning back and stepping through the breach, as it can't truly be called a door anymore. The other ranger, a man named Ellison, and I following her.
It's a storage room, looks like it was just for old paperwork too. Filing cabinets line the walls and stand in neat rows… where they haven't been knocked aside from where the two pokemon obviously came from.
"Shit," Ellison sums up what we're looking at. Why? What is it about this year that has these things happening?
Broken pokeballs. Only just recognizable as such because of the red and white pieces of shell scattered around, the rest of the internals little more than twisted fragments and shattered crystal.
Holt sighs, "And there goes any chance of this being a random attack." She bends down to start picking at the parts, "I don't think we could get anything useful from these, even if they weren't so broken." She seems to be counting something before continuing, "It looks like there were only two, so I feel confident saying that this is where our tangrowth came from."
"Guards? A distraction?" Ellison asks, inspecting the rest of the room.
"Possibly," I agree. "Though not as guards, they were barely lucid, and that might be putting it generously."
"Chemical contamination?" Ellison wonders aloud.
"No," I say, shaking my head and immediately regretting it. "If the RED could break them out, it's not chemical."
"Small mercies," Holt comments, standing. "You also mentioned having issues with your RED?" The top-ranger asks, holding out a hand.
I hand her the device, and she performs a quick inspection before activating it. "Mr. Kaplan said he was having issues with his, too," I add as Holt frowns. "Plus, I think whatever was interfering stopped before I managed to get through to one of the tangrowth."
"Hmm, and all the partners were becoming confused as well… are they related…" Holt muses to herself as she hands my empathy device back.
"Weave!" Weaver says, nodding emphatically. I'd forgotten she was there, with how quiet she's being right now.
Holt glances at my partner, then slowly nods, "Okay then, I'll need to take all this back to HQ ASAP, I'm sure Hastings will love the puzzle. You," She points at me, "Need to head to a hospital. I'm sure you're only barely wounded and mostly tired, but better safe than sorry. You," This time she points at Ellison, "Will now be in charge of the recent smuggling and poaching cases until I get back. I'll have one of our operators fill you in. Both of you are dismissed."
Finally, I can go get some rest. Weaver silently trails behind as I slowly make my way out of the academy again. Some of the other rangers approach me, but I wave them off. Reaching where everyone left their mounts, I hardly need to start looking before Dodrio presents himself, bending down so I can saddle up more easily.
Weaver presses herself against the side I was hit hardest on, and the cold does start easing the pain after a moment. I wrap an arm around her, sighing as Dodrio starts moving, "You know, a few weeks ago I thought, 'Things have been relatively quiet recently,'" I tell her, earning a disbelieving look. "Yeah, I know, I regretted it immediately."
Weaver rolls her eyes, reaching up to poke my forehead lightly, "Weavile vile, weavile."
"Yeah, probably best I don't say anything else, then," I chuckle, ruffling Weaver's crest. She pokes me playfully again, leaning harder into me as we ride away from… whatever just happened.
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Amazing. Simply amazing. The device operated spectacularly until something exploded. Breaking normal pokeballs and driving the pokemon into a frenzy like that, yes, just as our informants in Orre reported. Hmm, how to fix the exploding issue though… Bah, it was constructed from scraps, once that prodigy has the full backing of our organization I'm certain it won't be a problem.
…I need to make sure no one says anything about our true goal near him, Isaac is too steeped in ranger ideology to aid us if he learns of it.
I also need to make sure they don't find the parts, but that's rather easy. Thank you, Lamont, for authorizing the installation of such excellent soundproofing.
Although… I don't have all day. I'm lucky enough to have moved all the scrap back to the mechanics room before the
rangers came sniffing around, running through the halls no doubt. I quickly place another chunk of the machine into the incinerator. I need to be away before they come looking through every other room.
At least Isaac is already gone, one less thing to worry about those irritating fools stumbling across. Now, where did I put my disguise?
AN: Hey, you. Yeah, you, the one who just finished this chapter.
You should go read 'PokeFlicks and Hollywood Hits.' It's pretty good. Definitely seems to be aimed lighter then my own work, but Garmfild is writing gold. It's about someone who's dreams of becoming an actor and only managed it after a deadly accident. I may have referenced the story already.
Also he gave me a shout-out and I remembered that I never did that when I had Harper appear 'on screen,' oops. Go read it, it's on SV, SB, Ao3, And RoyalRoad.
