AN: My author's kitchen is on fire, help.
Not the good kind of fire either, my ISP keeps shutting down the power to my whole block because they fucked something up.
Anyway, huge thanks to Otto43 for putting up with my complaints about that while betaing.
Enjoy.
"
The Ranger Union still has yet to make a statement on the events, though our analysts predict that this has to do with the deceased individuals being part of an active investigation by the SFID. Analysts also believe that the timing of the as-of-yet-unknown incident at the Ranger Academy is not coincidental. However, the Union has not made comments on that event either. In local news, Altru Tower's construction has been delayed once again, prompting a new wave of questions as to the–"
I tune the sound of the TV out. Useful as it may have been to learn human tongues, I find most of what they say 'over the air' to be merely so much noise. I'll leave searching through it all to Maeve…
Timing isn't a coincidence, hmm?
I continue sauteing tonight's dinner, now with an interesting perspective on recent events. Someone fell, that much I'm certain of. I could recognize it while we were in Vientown, the feeling in the air was unmistakable. But where are they now? The world today isn't like that of sixty years ago, someone appearing out of thin air would be noticed, surely.
Unless, of course, they appeared in the middle of someone's territory. But even then, unless the human was acting irredeemably, I would expect that they would have been escorted out. Although I don't know what the general attitude of the wilds around here is yet, so I should likely withhold any conclusions.
Judging the pan of vegetables suitably soft, I plate it along with the wild rice before pouring sauce over the whole thing. I always smile, remembering how Maeve was about cooking when we first set off. She had the general idea of what needed to happen, but none of the experience or knowledge of the ingredients we had at the time. Once I could falsify having hands well enough, she generally left it to me. A fact our entire team was grateful for.
A little over a week into settling in, and we've found our patterns again. Maeve—ever the free spirit that she is—has been spending much of her time early in the day wandering down every alley and poking through every bush, smiling all the while. I've been right behind her, of course, sometimes visible, others not.
Memories of halcyon days, when we were both young and clueless, recaptured for a brief moment in this new land.
I feel myself smile, "Love, dinner," I call, setting her plate on our table before retreating to secure my own sustenance.
'Human-grade' meat is as expensive as advertised, here. Thankfully I
can eat most things, and one can find pokeblocks for purchase anywhere humans are.
Placing two of the protein cubes on my plate, I then add my measure of the rest before settling at the table, my wife already waiting.
This, to still be here with her, is what made
everything worth it.
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"Still no ideas? And I thought you were smart…" I say, halfheartedly teasing one of my oldest friends.
Shinbara gives me an affronted look before chuckling, "Well, I have
some hypothesis now," He admits, stoking his short beard, "The issue with confirming them is simply how unethical it would be."
"Hit me," I say settling into one of his lab chairs. They're rather comfortable.
The professor sighs, staring into space for a long moment before acceding, "I believe," He pauses, then nods, "I believe what happened was the result of something like a heavily modified Friendship Blaster," I roll my eyes at his preferred name for the devices, but he did invent them. "I've no clue where someone could find a power source to broadcast over such a range, or with such a powerful effect, however. Now, that assumes it
is the same technology, as the described effect was unlike a Blaster."
Both our eyes shift to the large whiteboard the professor had been working on when I walked in. It's covered in scrawled math and designs I don't pretend to understand, the device depicted among it all only somewhat resembling a 'Friendship Blaster.' "Do you think it will help when another situation pops up?" I ask.
"I'm uncertain," Shin says, standing straighter and fully assuming his role as Professor Hastings, "The report I read from the first ranger to respond said that, while she wasn't sure, it seemed that Tangrowth calmed down
before the resistance vanished." My old friend swaps to stroking his mustache, "To me, that, combined with the descriptions of the issue provided, implies an issue with delivery. I'm afraid, however, that to test it will require another event." He stops for a moment, then nods, turning to me, "I should have prototypes soon enough, just in case."
That's good to hear, "I'll have a shortlist of rangers made for potential field-testing. How many should be on it?"
The genius considers my question before waving it off, "It doesn't truly matter, I think. Giving them to the best performers would be better." After another moment of thought, he continues, "But no more than ten. I'll likely only have two or three ready, so we can narrow it down further when the time comes." He looks back over his 'Mad Science Lab,' a frown overtaking his features, "Sasako, do you–"
He's interrupted as the door to the lab opens, an operator sticking his head through, "Chair Erma, Chair Hastings, I was asked to remind you that the meeting with League representatives starts in five minutes."
Both Shin and I sigh, sharing a look that says we'll continue this later.
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"Mmm, I had thought they lived in the forest," Meganium comments as we enter my garden. "It's why I asked them to bring you the sapling."
"They did, until just that night," I inform him, enjoying not needing to look down for once.
"And now they have joined the rangers, while those responsible have been… dealt with," The blooming giant absently observes. "You know, there was quite the stir when the humans found the drowned man on that path," He continues, inspecting my pecha tree. "Mmm, This is quite healthy."
"I've done my best," I preen. "Though I
have had help. How
did the humans react, exactly?"
"How they normally do, I would say," The large grass-type says, tilting his head back and forth, antenna wiggling slightly. "There has been quite a lot of eye-rolling and shrugging among the locals, while the foreigners have been… hmm… cowed."
I can only nod, that's been about my experience as well, and it was the intent. And, now that the tourists won't be around as much, I wonder if I'll be seeing more of the local children again soon? "Good to know it worked. What about my other plants?"
"Mmm, let me see," He says, now dipping his head low to look at my sitrus. "How long have you been attempting to grow this one?"
That has me frowning, as it's been long enough that it should be bigger, "Last year… Eleven months."
"You've cared for it well, then," He beams at me, raising his head back to eye height, "Sitrus are famously delicate saplings. When transplanted they tend to wither quickly, or, in this case, take time to settle."
"Well, that's nice to hear, I'd been worried I was doing something wrong," I chuckle.
"Mmm…" He rumbles eyes tracing over several more of my plants, "Marshal of The Forest, you've grown a lum to fruit," he says, leisurely pacing towards the tree I planted the vine on, "You've care enough to see a sitrus healthy."
"Aw, you're going to make me blush," I respond, playfully cupping my face. "I'm glad you seem to like my garden."
"Even many grass-types don't dedicate the time you have to this growth," Meganium praises, lighting up my garden with a bit of life. "I'm glad to see a place like this, knowing I helped make it possible." He looks around for a moment, literally beaming at my small haven, "I feel it prudent to ask, you wouldn't mind my help, would you?"
"Not at all," I shake my head, squinting against the glow and growing sunlight. "As long as my garden is okay, I don't mind."
"Hmm…" He rumbles, excited. And I see many of my plants beginning to bloom.
Hah! I can't wait to see the look on Luxray's face next time he comes around.
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"I still can't tell if I should be glad for the company or not," Katie offhandedly says, idly tweaking the knobs on her big-ass radio. "I mean, you don't really say much, but I'm also not in here alone
all night most the time now." She looks at me, "You know, I didn't actually believe Onaga when she said you don't sleep at first."
I shrug, it's not like I have much to do most nights anyway. And when I don't feel like practicing it's nice to have
someone awake nearby, even if we don't talk at all.
Turns out, people are boring when they're asleep. Who knew? Although they're also a veritable buffet, Onaga especially… doubly so given how Espeon mirrors her feelings when they're asleep. Makes me wonder what she's dreaming about since she's always so calm while she's awake.
"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't get it," The operator says, returning my shrug as she misinterprets what I meant. Oh well.
Learning the ropes of being a ranger partner mostly boils down to just… helping, as obvious as that sounds. Even though I've seen them do clearly impossible things, the rangers aren't pokemon, so they have us to bridge that gap.
Basically, we help out by providing 'interpretation,' powers, a second set of senses, fighting ability, or even just small things like aiding with daily tasks. It's been… interesting so far, but I'm starting to understand Espeon's– Patches– Whatever-he-decides-on's eagerness to go out for missions or 'quests.'
I still can't believe they honestly call them that. Granted, they have a physical bulletin for listing them, so… quest board? When I asked Weaver she was confused by my confusion about it, but I think she might have been messing with me.
Maybe I should grab a book? I'd be practicing my 'illusions,' for all that I can call them that, except Katie's made it clear that it's a bit distracting. And since I'm definitely starting to get better at reading now, practice will help. Even if I'm still only a bit above a child's level, two weeks to get there is pretty good.
Katie puts a hand up to her one-sided headset, focusing as whoever started talking relays something, "Received, thanks Harry," She says once 'Harry' finishes, proceeding to write something down in a language I can't even begin to parse.
Honestly, I still have no idea how she's keeping it together. I can taste the stress and exhaustion around her
all the time, and I've watched her pull two straight weeks of twelve-hour days. Even then, while she can get a bit snippy, she's still chugging along. …It probably helps that the people she works with are so supportive, and my being in here usually makes her feel a bit better, too.
Overall, it's been interesting to see how the rangers seem to treat the base as more of a home than anything. I get the sentiment though, and everyone's partners treat it that way too, which… I guess it
is their– our home, so fair enough.
"Katie, Misdreavus," I hear Onaga greet and turn to see her leaning into the room.
Well, I suppose the day is starting then.
***
As has become normal, Weaver and I are half-watching Espeon as he tries to absorb written language. Meanwhile, the two of us are doing our own things. Today, that means trying to twist my cloud—or miasma, as Onaga has called it—into a visible shape and practicing writing, respectively.
Usually, this happens to a backdrop of Onaga training with ridiculous amounts of weight and dedication, but she's relaxing today. Instead of making me question my sense of reality,
again, she's focused on a file folder and the large amounts of what looks like newspaper clippings inside.
"Hey Charlie," Weaver says, grabbing my attention from where it had been wandering this time, "What's the order of this one again?"
I wouldn't have thought Weaver was someone who could study all that well, I was wrong. It turns out that she has way,
way more self-control than anyone I've ever met. And given what she's said about it, I think it's a dark-type thing.
I take a look at what she's trying to do, and then run through my memory for a moment, "The lines on the side first, then the zig-zag, and then the swoopy bits," I tell her. I still want to know why 'League Standard' feels so… Japanese, but that puts me back into thoughts I can't find answers for yet.
Like why I'm here.
…
Nope, still not ready to think about all that again. Where the hell can I even start looking–
Anyway, I find myself preferring Sinnohan to 'League.' It's just more comfortable for whatever reason. Maybe because of the sentence structure? English and Spanish aren't the same, but it's not the complete shift that League is, and Sinnohan flows much more like a romance language.
…I've completely lost focus. Back to attempting free-form energy manipulation.
Okay, I know there's something I'm missing here. I can make a fully opaque shape now, but I can't give it defined edges or color. It is, however, easy to see at least. …mostly because it's all contrast. I know I've managed white before though, hmm.
And I'm tasting a certain cat's frustration again, so maybe it
is time to stop for now, "I think that should be enough of the video for today, yeah?" I ask, speaking to both other pokemon.
Weaver gives a distracted nod as she moves her new, heavy-duty mechanical pencil across a sheet of paper.
Espeon, for his part, glances at me, and then back to the TV with a small nod, carefully pressing the buttons on the VCR with psychic force to stop and eject the tape.
He's thankful, ashamed, and relieved all at once. Probably because he wants to learn, but hates the slow process. "You're doing great, Espeon," I tell him, meaning it and making sure I'm close enough for him to feel it. "You've almost got all the basic consonants now, right?"
That earns me a tentative, ears-down nod, his double-ended tail twisting around itself. But he's soon feeling better as I focus on feeling supportive, his slight hunch lessening.
This is
so much better than being alone in a cabin, and I can still float off into the forest whenever I want.
Okay, I haven't done that since all the rangers scrambled off because a body was found, but who's counting? I mean, I do want to see Leaf, the Pikachus, some of the groves, and… Marshal.
Marshal is the reason I haven't gone back out there, even though I want to talk to her again. I still don't know how I feel about her killing
three people. I mean, I'd already figured she's killed people, and, after the sheer level of malice she was putting off that night, I'm not surprised. But that's not what's stopping me.
'You need to stop thinking like a human.' …It's funny how many times I can go through a memory and still miss details like that.
She knew. Or she figured it out, whatever. But I know that the next time we get to have a long conversation it's going to come up, whether I do it or she does. And before she killed those people I was going to talk to her about it, but then Espeon was freaked out and I
needed to talk to Leaf, and… things got away from me.
I know, factually, that effectively nothing's changed. They definitely aren't the first she's killed, but that doesn't stop it from feeling different now that I've seen what she can do to a person.
Pictures of meat chunks, a bloated body, and the way that everyone was just acting like it was
expected… All coupled with the way Espeon had reacted to her, where just being near her had terrified him. It all keeps running through my head when I think about meeting Marshal again, making her not
just the slightly scary, friendly otter anymore. Instead she's rather more… intense.
But I'm going to keep thinking myself in circles about this, again, so it's best to stick to my decision to talk to her about it. Eventually.
Looking up from my thoughts–
"Fuck!" Weaver is close enough that I have an almost panoramic view of her snout.
She grins, "Never gets old." The weavile backs off, casting a glance at Espeon and sighing, "It's probably about time you start coming with us on duty, Smokey."
That makes the psychic flinch slightly, a tinge of jealousy rolling off him.
It was going to happen at some point, and I'm guessing that if Weaver pulls me along then Onaga is going to accept it. Espeon might become an issue, though. He's smart enough to know
why I'm being treated differently, but he's not quite mature enough to be graceful about it, especially as he's now glaring at us.
He's not near a meltdown, though, so it should be fine. He's doing a lot better, really.
"Joining us for the run?" Weaver asks, glancing through the folder Onaga had been holding, the woman herself now running through a series of stretches. "Patches should be able to join now, too."
That gets the cat's attention causing him to sit straight and raise his ears. And, indeed, I can only see the end of his ribcage now, instead of each individual bone. Plus, while his fur isn't completely even, there aren't any bare spots anymore.
Espeon's eyes de-focus for a moment before he excitedly stands, and Onaga sighs, "I know, just don't hurt yourself."
I consider for a moment before deciding that I wouldn't mind flying after them, "Sure, I don't see why not," I say to Weaver, raising myself to head height—relative to a human, that is.
Onaga stands, eying me off, then nods slightly, "You too?"
I shrug, "Might as well," I tell her despite the language barrier.
She keeps giving me a thoughtful look, then her head whips to Espeon and she gives him a much harsher one, "Oh, I see." She pauses as Espeon shrinks down a bit, "I suppose it was about time to bring them along. Although…" The look she's giving the purplish cat softens, and Onaga sighs, "I understand how you feel, but unless something happens to make me think Misdreavus is
unfit, then I need to get them used to field work."
The difference between how Espeon communicates with Onaga versus anybody else psychically is still strange, but I haven't wanted to poke at it, just in case.
"Also, you
are making progress," The woman points out, still talking to the cat. "Faster than I thought you would, too. It's only a matter of time before you can join us on duty. Keep that in mind, okay?"
Espeon nods, and although I don't get the full message, I do taste a grudging acceptance. He still doesn't look happy about it, though.
When Onaga looks back at me she does a quick double-take before rolling her eyes, presumably because I'm now near invisible, "Right, I guess this isn't much of an exercise for you. Come on, we're burning daylight."
***
I… can't help thinking that we aren't moving that fast. Having thought that, however, Onaga is clearly keeping the speed down for Espeon's sake while she considers something.
We're moving at a very slow pace, Weaver casually skipping along while Onaga is going at an easy jog. For my part, well, I'm flying at a fraction of my top speed. I don't want to say it's boring, it's not, but it does feel slow.
Onaga seems to be taking us on a small circuit around the edge of the city, its compact nature meaning that we're effectively moving along a dirt road with occasional trees on one side and buildings on the other.
I'm still a bit shocked at how few fences there are. As it stands, there truly aren't that many, and the ones that there are seem to only be meant to stop humans. …But it
is hard to stop a pokemon, isn't it? Using Weaver as an example, she has a twenty-foot vertical leap, along with claws that are perfect for climbing. And that's not even mentioning general strength, or
me.
With the way the rangers have been talking, I don't think there
is a way to keep me from moving through things. Most of those conversations usually revolved around how useful it is, though, and wanting to see if I can carry things with me. The answer? A definite
maybe.
Then there are the reminders that I'm the subject of an upcoming study, but apparently being a partner will change what and how it can be done. I'm not looking forward to when Rowan gets here in 'a few days.' I mean, yeah, some answers about… everything would be nice, but I'm being
studied. I don't like the idea of being poked and tested. Still have a few days before that though.
Wait, that was a few days ago… Fuck.
We're turning? Oh, we're circling into the city now. Onaga deciding something… Huh, it's becoming natural to just taste an emotion and then intuit what people are doing, now. Whatever. What's she set on?
After a few minutes of keeping a steady pace, we end up in front of one of the ubiquitous small shops. The storefront's windows decorated with a display showing off paper stock, calendars, schedules, and various writing utensils. It's honestly a comfy-looking store, nestled in a good-looking, red-brick building. Looks like they just opened, too.
What time is it, actually?
Onaga glances at us for a moment, then looks back at the building, "I'd prefer you all stay out here, I'd like what I get to be a surprise." And, having said that, she walks in.
I'll admit to being tempted to follow her, but I stay outside with the others.
Weaver is practically vibrating in place for some reason, "You okay?" I ask the excited weasel.
"I know what she's getting!" Weaver beams, stilling herself. "It's going to make things so much easier!"
Make things– I look back at the storefront, "Oh, yeah that makes sense. …Please don't write anything about, you know,
my 'situation.'"
"Mmm…" Weaver makes a show of thinking about it, but grudgingly nods, "No promises, but I get why you're asking." She stares into space for a second, "…Nope, you being from another world is still cool. Any new ideas about how you ended up here?"
"I haven't put much thought into it," I admit. "I don't remember most of the stories from the games, I told you that, but the best I can come up with is…" I trail off, considering if I want to say it. "Palkia."
"Palkia?" Weaver repeats, cocking her head. "What's that?"
I was kind of expecting her to recognize the name of one of the
big Gods, so that doesn't bode well. "You know, Palkia, Dialga, Giratina?" I ask, still not seeing recognition on her face. "Space, time, and… I forget what Giratina was exactly."
"G– Giratina is th– the lord of wrongness," Espeon's small voice pipes up, prompting Weaver and me to look at him. "It– It is meant to have been d– destroyed by its siblings before the world w– was created."
"Where did you hear that?" I ask, after getting over the fact that
Espeon is the one speaking up about this.
"M– Mitsu– My trainer had a lot of arguments with his br– brother," Espeon says, his tail's ends twining nervously. "Yunoto w– was a very devout follower o– of the Thousand H– Hands, while M– Mi… my trainer believed in the O– Original Sun."
I have no idea what he's talking about, and, judging by Weaver's curious look, neither does she.
"I've heard Ryu talk about Kimetsune a bit," The black cat muses, idly combing claws through her feathers, "But I've never heard of any of those. What about 'Holy Sinnoh,' or 'The Swords'? I've heard people use them the same way…" I've heard the Rangers swear to various names as well, and them doing it to 'Sinnoh' still feels a bit odd.
Hmm, let's start with the odd one out, "Kimetsune?" I ask, recognizing it from Onaga as well. "Who's that?"
"A spirit of fire and forethought," Weaver replies without skipping a beat, "Ryuko prays to her sometimes, and tends to complain that there aren't any shrines here to give offerings to when she does. Actually," She says, glancing at Espeon, "I've heard her pray to a 'First One' and 'Seasons' as well."
This… isn't exactly the topic I thought we'd be on. And that's more Gods than I was imagining. I'm pretty sure they're all legendaries of some kind, but, without the names, I'm mostly lost. The pokemon names, that is. And again with the oddly Japanese stuff.
"How many Gods even are there?" I ask.
Espeon's ears go back, his tail flicking in agitation, but he says nothing as his eyes narrow in thought.
Weaver simply shrugs, "I don't know, humans use too many different names for them anyway, it gets confusing." After a second, she seems to recall something, "Although, I think I've heard Ryu telling Barry that Kimetsune isn't a god but a… Yeah, a spirit." Weaver shakes her head, "I've heard some things about Kanto, it all confuses me."
"M– Many names," Espeon concurs.
Well, that's
helpful. How many legendaries are there again? Or, wait… How many games have there even been since I stopped playing? Were they any good?
Fuck, why didn't I play… Okay, stupid question. I was probably depressed for years before I died, had zero time, and wasn't expecting it to be at all relevant to my future. Still, I wish I'd kept up now.
We fall silent as we wait for Onaga to buy, I assume, a notepad for Weaver to carry with her. Espeon has his regular level of wary emotions going on. As if he's still waiting for the other shoe to drop while hoping it never does. And Weaver's grooming herself with that permanent half-smirk on her face.
Can't say I don't empathize with Espeon, though. But as long as I don't focus on… No, no that's not right, is it? God dammit– Gods dammit? Is saying God or Jesus incorrect here?
I'm fucking distracting myself is what I'm doing! I… I need to talk to Marshal, she's great at listening and being reassuring.
And killing people, can't forget that part. Literally, I can't forget it. Which I guess is all the more reason to talk to her.
But then, I've seen her kill people– pokemon, I mean. And I know Weaver has, too. But they were all only…
Oh good, I'm back on this thought,
again. So, am I being a judgmental asshole? Well, having now gone over this a few times… Probably, yeah. I hate being introspective sometimes. I still can't even tell if I think of them as animals or not half the time for Christ's sake! That should be a huge red flag!
And humans
are animals, something I'm definitively
not anymore. Pokemon are clearly different, so why do I keep thinking like a… Like a human.
Why is Marshal always right? And why am I only just now realizing what she–
"Hey, Smokey, we're leaving," Weaver says, poking me on the side of the head.
I shake myself, returning my focus to now–
now… When was the last time– I haven't done it since I put Espeon to sleep, fuck. No wonder I'm so scattered.
Onaga's giving me a look. I can think about this later, focus. Take a moment for
now.
I'll be talking to Marshal as soon as I can.
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"So, a few more showed up?" I confirm with both Philip the wool farmer and Philip the ranger from the Forest's South base.
"Not so much, 'showed up' as they made their way back while we weren't looking," Ranger Philip chuckles. "But we have the transport organized now, so once we get them back to the boat they're shipping out. And a League contact confirmed that they 'should be able to handle it from there.'"
"Not botherin' Ammy no more, neither," Farmer Philip says, gently plucking one of the joltik from his long beard. "Jus' hanging on t'some o' the mareep an' flaaffy now."
Ammy, the only ampharos in town, nods, adding, "Amphar am, pharos ampharos," In her bleating voice.
"We've got a whole berth set to stay electrically charged on the ship," Ranger Philip informs me. "It's still being set up, though," He ruefully admits.
"Jol…" His partner adds, rolling his eyes even as another of the small pokemon crawls onto him.
Two rangers is likely a bit much for this, but that's what happens when an operator forgets to check things.
"I'll admit to only having book knowledge on joltik," I say, holding out a hand for farmer Philip to place the fuzzy arachnid on. "Don't you have a cave to live in?" I ask the tingly yellow ball.
They swivel their head to look at me, mandibles working slowly, and then they flop onto their back. Right, slightly below average logic-index and a general tendency to lose focus. They are, after all, the juvenile stage of galvantula. Juvenile being the operative word, most of the ones I can see being around seven centimeters.
Hmm, the one I saw going with that trainer had to have been around twelve centimeters. The eldest? Or just a large individual, maybe?
I dismiss the questions, they don't matter right now. Looking back over all the spiders, they're acting lethargic and content. Well, at least since they're now charged, they should be cooperative… If we can get them off what they're latched to.
"Misdreavus, Weaver?" I query my partners, and their quiet conversation ceases. One silently steps into view, the other drifts, "Would you two check for joltik around the far ends of the field? Bring anyone you find back here."
They both nod, Misdreavus' bobbing only a bit less certain, and seem to start bantering again as they make their way out into the open space. I watch Misdreavus for a moment longer as they move away. The ghost's behavior changed after I came out of the stationery shop earlier, even their body language shifted to something more centered, in control.
But they haven't been frozen, staring into space since then either. And that's unusual for them, as they tend to do so every few minutes, even if for only a second or two. And seeing them freeze while flying makes me truly wonder what the freezing is about.
Something to work out with them later, and Weaver will let me know if it's a real problem. She's even wearing her bandolier again, now that she has things to carry.
"You know, I heard someone from the west base recruited a ghost-type," Ranger Philip says, also looking off after my partners. "Bit strange seeing them in person."
I snort, turning my attention back to the nearby wool pokemon, "Wait until you hear them talk, it's certainly something." I then lift the hand holding the small, yellow pokemon to eye level, "How are we moving all of them?"
"Well, I don't want to put it
all on Jolteon, but I, uh, didn't think about that part," He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. "Can we borrow a cart?"
"Sure," Farmer Philip agrees, "Ain't no skin off my back."
"Think you can keep an electric field up all the way to Chicole?" My fellow ranger asks Jolteon.
The walking lightning rod gives the ranger a flat look, sitting down and puffing himself up, quills and fur ruffling in pride, disturbing the joltik clinging to him, "Jol-jolt, eeon," He barks, pointing a paw at Ranger Philip.
"I have to ask," The man defends himself. "We'll need to hook Dodrio up to the cart, so it'll take longer than normal to get there."
Jolteon loses a bit of his pomp at that, ears folding back for a second before he gravely nods. Old Ammy brays out a guffaw at Jolteon's serious look, a hoof-tipped hand slapping her thigh.
"How were you going to handle it? Out of curiosity," Ranger Philip asks.
"Mostly the same, I think. Load them onto a cart and have Weaver and Misdreavus watch them," I shrug. "Weaver
is faster than most other pokemon, and Misdreavus is very good at psychic projection. They'd be able to keep them all contained until we got there."
"Oh? Is Misdreavus a psychic-type as well?" The ranger asks, seeming to decide we should get started as he moves towards the closest mareep.
"No," I shake my head, following his lead as I head for a flaaffy, "At least, I don't think so. They don't communicate like one."
Ranger Philip blinks, setting a second joltik on his arm, "You've been around psychics enough to tell?"
"I think so, at this point. An espeon," I tell him, letting Flaaffy press her nose into my palm. "I'm starting to get a handle on more than just empathy now." Though it still feels odd whenever I get an 'image.'
"Oh, here come th'rest o' them." I look up at the farmer's voice and see a dozen more mareep trotting towards us, Weaver in front and Misdreavus behind. I can only see one joltik among them from here.
I suppress a sigh at her interpretation of the task. Not that it's out of character for her, it's harmless, and the grin as she sees me looking is all I need to know about how intentional it was.
Well, if she's in that good of a mood then Misdreavus must be handling themself well enough. Good to know.
I'm going to hope Misdreavus' behavior isn't part of the instability I haven't seen much of yet, and let it be for now.
The only guesses I can make is either this is a prequel to the SoA plot or you shifted the SoA plot into the past.
