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Little Leavanny In The Big City [Pokémon, Reincarnation/Light SI]

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That bit with 'Looker' was really interesting. It shows that the vague international agency is a lot shadier than I thought. Also, I probably should have thought of the job title thing, but I was assuming it was something to do with Zoroark again (because seriously, there being a Zoroark posing as a nurse joy was really random. Maybe that explains why they are identical?).

The buildup for the actual reading is getting even more intense. I'm so hyped, but also concerned. Predicting the possibility of personality bleed here, though not sure how the Alacazam plays into that.
 
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Chapter 45 - Horizon
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    • ~~~ Chapter 45 - Horizon ~~~​

    Two hours ago, Dawn was in her motel room, holding a blanket over her. She'd drawn the blinds back, letting as much sun in as she could. Alakazam floated in the room with her. He'd reminded her, gently, ever-so, through her own thoughts—Eat some food. Which she did. She had brought packets of honey from Floaroma town, when she'd saved a man being accosted by individuals saying they were going to save the world, when she'd first started the journey, three years ago. At the time, Dawn had been able to dismiss the encounters with Cyrus' conspirators as one-offs.

    Six months later, before she'd even had her third badge, Dawn met Mars. Salivating over the sweet sugar in front of her, a nagging thought told her that she probably shouldn't eat honey. It wouldn't have enough nutrients. Passing over the dried fruits, candy and conditioner she'd bought to ease the leavanny's mind, as a reward! Finally, she settled on an unovan nutribar. Didn't quite have the allure of the honey and fruits. Whatever. The honey made it taste good. The rest of the stuff was unambiguously for pokemon. She'd have to leave the stuff in the motel room, sitting at the edge of Cimmerian City. It would prove too distracting.

    Right, she was in the hotel room, and needed to meet Looker in an hour. She had time to explore a bit, but out of force of habit, had checked herself in the mirror. She looked… Fine? A little bedhead, though, her hair was kind of short. She'd normally kept it a half-inch or so below her ears, which was where it sat then. She was considering letting her hair grow a few inches longer. Right. She looked into the room's bathroom. Right. She hadn't showered. She did so. Right. She checked her clothes. A blanket wasn't enough covering. Right. She hadn't brushed her teeth. Right. She hadn't brushed her hair.

    She hadn't missed this many items on her daily checklist since… ever, really? Maybe when she had been camping? She loved her alakazam, he was clearly helping to direct her, but this was bad. She couldn't delay meeting with Looker today, no she didn't want to delay. He'd promised her as much time as she needed to prepare. She was prepared. She pulled out her phone. She'd dial Lucian. He was probably the one in the best spot to help give her advice. She'd had to rely on alakazam too much to help keep her mind in order. She needed some human psychic encouragement.

    She just hoped the Sinnohan wouldn't say "get another psychic pokemon!" In the meantime, Dawn could focus on the goals in front of her. And the checklist she just wrote down.

    It would stave her off for a couple days.

    ~~~​

    Lanky held me in his arms, carrying me through the front lawn of the gym as he talked. When you don't understand the language outside of your name and a few words you've trained to pick out, it's easy to get lost in your own thoughts. I'm not proud to admit it, but right after Lanky had picked me up in the atrium, one little puzzle piece slid into place, conveniently after I was panicking. Lanky was speaking in a quiet, subdued tone, as we crossed the immaculately green lawn of the front lawn of the museum, all while I was gratefully soaking in the beautiful morning sun's rays.

    What I could gleam, were not the words, but I knew his intent. I knew his heart. He did not give up on me in my dreams. I could afford him some trust in return. Under the early morning sun, I relaxed the muscles in my arms, letting them droop a little. I recognized the meganium's trainer. She was at least a decade older than she was when I had played HeartGold. She had the starter I had chosen. Lyra, at least, had good taste. If I found out she had a ledian, that would definitely be cause for concern. I was a basic bitch otherwise. Bellossom, butterfree, Ho-Oh. Well, bellosom and butterfree weren't my Red-killer team, so maybe not.

    Regardless as things stand, there's nothing to worry about, I recited to myself, the warming morning air having cleared the slight scent of tobacco as we bounded along the grass, approaching where Lanky had originally fallen asleep. The place where he'd left the silcoon, who'd moved, sitting under the underbrush. Lyra just had good taste in starter pokemon. That was all. I just had to hope Cresselia calling me a Dreamer wasn't too metaphorical. I managed to shut down the lingering impulse of manually taking a breath, at least.

    Lanky and I had hit the end of the gym's front yard. We were at a small, three-foot-tall decorative brick outcropping. He continued to talk as I soaked in the rays. In contrast to finally recognizing the meganium's trainer, I did not recognize the girl with the alakazam. I could make a guess at what she was. Lanky had kissed me on the head. It wasn't hard to spot, or hard to tell. But it was the details, the differences that mattered. What was different? Well, for one, I was reborn as a fucking leavanny rather than as a human. And it was great! No, I still didn't know who the girl with the alakazam was. But I did know what she was. She was important. As we had walked across the treeline, lanky had given me a leaf.

    I placed it on my skirt, like a sticker. He was still wearing the necklace I gave him earlier, so that was nice. It wasn't made of my hardened leaves, and would fall apart in a few days, but I still appreciated that he wore it.

    Why would they want me? The images had been of the black and pink Latias, of Oust, of the mountain that day. They didn't want me. They wanted what I knew. And what I knew was very, very little for their tentacruel games. They wanted Oust. Would the girl with the alakazam try to catch Oust? Would Oust let her? We re-entered the gym. Lenora pulled us aside, before taking us into the back of her gym, her office. With significant effort, I managed not to fidget, as Lanky and Lenora talked. Her office smelled of other pokemon, of boring and books.

    Not a plant in sight, the blinds blocked any chance of sun.

    ~~~​

    When Burgh and his leavanny re-entered the primary gym atrium, Dawn was meditating, playing their psychic games with each other. It took her a moment to retract—her alakazam had to let her know of the budding trainer's return. She pulled her backpack close, standing up. Burgh's face was hard for her to read. But what mattered most, was the leavanny seemed to have calmed down. Burgh talked to the leavanny, setting her down. She forced herself into a smile. If she tried too hard and showed teeth, it would come off as weird. Instead, she tried to keep the smile soft, as if to say "just a moment, this won't hurt a bit" like a nurse giving a kid their vaccine.

    Holding her bag on her shoulder, a part of her exchanged words with the trainer, eventually deciding it was best to move to the center of the room. She didn't expect anything to happen. And alakazam didn't point out any anxiety in the leavanny. Though, the boy was clearly nervous. Another part of her had tried to console him, telling him he should probably sit next to it as Dawn "asked" it questions. She didn't mind that he didn't want to sit next to it. Dawn had brought a little candy of her own for the bug. In the center of the room, she pulled it out, and gave it a dried sinnohan pecha berry.

    Her body across from the leavanny, sitting cross-legged, beginning with a control of breathing, she reached out to alakazam.

    ~~~​

    Dawn sat down, cross-legged, angling herself in so that the leavanny was always in sight of her trainer. Sitting down across from Leah, Dawn eyed the bug, glancing over to their trainer. Somehow, she'd felt comforted by its presence, her own heart rate increasing. She was strong- far stronger than the leavanny was, clearly. Far larger, too. And with a better coat. All the anticipation, and she was, in a word, disappointed.

    "Are you sure you want to sit on the bleachers?" she had asked Leah's trainer.

    "I, uh—I trust Leah," he'd said. The voice wasn't confident, but Dawn didn't really look into the trainer's face long enough to analyze his expression.

    Dawn had nothing to say. It didn't matter. She closed her mouth. Talking felt weird, but she could rely on the other parts of her mind to help. Scrunching her arms in her jacket, they began the first step. Closing her eyes, she recentered herself. Leah, to the trainer's credit, had decided to follow Dawn's lead, sitting across from her, eyes and mouth unmoving with a kind of stillness that not even her alakazam could manage.

    The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

    ~~~​

    It wasn't hard to intuit exactly what was being asked of me. I had enough context. I walked along with the girl, the trainer I'd seen on the mountain that day. Closer to the girl than I'd been before, I could smell the taste of her empoleon in the air. There was the smell of a third pokemon, a different one. One I could not taste, but it made me slightly sick. All I had to do, to get a passenger out—was think dirty, mean, nasty thoughts. All I had to do. Simple as that.

    My vision didn't go black. Instead, there was a persistent pressure. In the back of my head. My vision had turned gray? No, I was in—I was in a hospital bed. There were tubes in my nose, and in my lungs. I'd always had trouble breathing. I'd grown up, at first it was asthma, then with further visits to the doctor, it was pediatric emphysema. It kept me out of sports. It kept me out of going to the beach. It had kept me—

    I never was actually all that into pokemon. I had a couple of phases where I got really into HeartGold. Usually when I was passed up because I couldn't go to school dances, or was passed up for prom when no one asked me out, and the one person I did ask out, laughed. I had—

    Bugs were always pretty cool. I had a terrarium in my room, I'd kept it since I was thirteen. I wanted to collect all the bugs first. See, bugs, they don't all have lungs. Most of them, in particular, insects, breathed through their carapace. But I'm a leavanny. I am too big to passively breathe through my carapace. I have to do it through my abdomen.

    It was Easter, I had come home from my first year of college. I wasn't that far away from home, mom and dad didn't want me to, but also they didn't want me to stay at home either. Fine by me. I had an older brother, who was really into pokemon, but all his friends were jocks, and he didn't want to say he was still into it to my parents. Apparently they had asked my older bro what to get the two of us. Well, I hadn't thought about pokemon much, not since I was a little kid. I liked nintendogs. Sue me. There were no bug-collecting games. Or at least, they never wound up in my holiday baskets.

    Somehow, one Easter, I got the game with the Ho-oh on the front. Brother got Lugia—

    I was back on the mountain again, an alakazam was carrying me out of the stairs. In front of me, three gods of creation, each powerful enough to destroy reality on their own. And yet, they choose not to. A man—Cyrus was his name, whisked off to another realm, the portal behind him immediately closing, sucking in the vast majority of the crew's equipment along with him. That man, I'd been chasing them since I was a teen. They'd caused me—and all of my—beloved region so much grief.

    The meganium's trainer. Her name. Lyra. She was older. Much older than I'd expected her to be. Right, I was—I was staring into the eyes of the alakazam.

    No. This wasn't work—It wasn't going to—It wasn't working. Honey, right from the combee. I could already taste it. Would I even know when the girl entered my mind? How would I know? If I could just hold still for a bit, as the girl connected, there would be honey at the end of the tunnel. I just knew it. I could practically taste it.

    Back at the nes— No. It didn't work. It wasn't working. It wasn't going to. I was back in a tree. I was in front of a bird, covered in shadow. Its form I did not know. Behind me was our nest. It wanted to eat the swadloon. I was tasked to protect them. I would protect them. I jumped, and with a single slash, I'd taken down the bird, its form dissolving, Bonk, Leaf, and the whole swadly crew's silent scents of relief immediately flooding in.

    No, I'd shown too much. They just wanted to know about Oust! They just wanted to know where they were! Why me? I didn't know! I don't know, the last time I'd seen them—the last time—darkrai was giving me a thumbs-up. I can run, I can fight, I can play and I don't have to huff. I don't have to puff. I don't have to deal with human stuff. Being a human sucks, even if some humans are good beans.

    I had—I had—Nasty thoughts—Nasty, nasty thoughts, what did that even mean? What was a nasty thought? PASSENGER LEAVE! I hate you! Leaf was biting me again. I shook my head. My head is my own, damn it! I don't want you, get out! No. I trusted you no this was, this was—

    It was a nightmare. The world had gone dark. This wasn't my mind. The land was black where I stood. The carcasses of pokemon and human alike strewn across the ground. I looked down. I had a bag over my shoulder. Why was I here? I flexed my fingers. They weren't mine. I was wearing a beanie on the top of my head. Leavanny, looking themselves over, confused. I only had one pokeball on my belt. I pulled it off. The ball was empty.

    There were people, pokemon, surrounding us. Mostly zubat, some purrloin, the humans were faceless. Had I killed these people? These pokemon? A man behind us laughed. The leavanny and I both whipped around, staring at the man. "These, Dawn—" the man said, standing on an altar of gold, emblazoned with gems of red—he was looking down to the leavanny, ignoring me, the leavanny opening her mouth to speak.

    "These are the corpses of the war you've waged over the last few years," Cyrus said. "I am innocent. You know I am."

    All that came from the leavanny's mouth was a weak "leaaaa", which then abruptly stopped.

    The man turns to me, his suit glistening despite the ashen-covered skies of the dreamworld. "See, little Leah, she has nothing to say. Now you know the path she's taken. The truth she's kept. I am trying to make the world better," he says with a smirk. "And she—Dawn is a defender of the status quo."

    The man held up his hands in the air. "See, Leah, you think it's all a game, don't you? These are real people in this world. Yours is not any less real than this one. This nightmare realm. Cresselia's dream realm. The pokemon realm. The distortion realm." Cyrus says. "It's not any less real than the life you've lived. And you know that. But you don't. Not really. You're not from this world. I endeavor to make a better one. One without pain. Without misery. Doesn't that sound so nice? In fact, I am working, even now. You're not special Leah, and don't worry, your secret is already known. Lanky knows your secret. The professor knows. Everyone else knows. You just told Dawn here. She knows everything," he said, motioning to the leavanny, who was rubbing her blades together.

    I knelt down, to the leavanny. I put my hand on her head. She had no battle-skirt, but her leaves were dripping with a dark substance. I picked the leavanny up. If this was Dawn's nightmare, if this was her ultimate fear… The pokeball was in my hand. She looked away, but did not run. Did I need to speak? How do you end a living nightmare? You clench your jaw, you fix up your armor, and you fight your way through it. The leavanny was scared out of her mind. Not quite hyperventilating like I would.

    I picked her up. I held the leavanny in my arms. I didn't have leaves. I didn't have anything to give her. I tried to smile. I opened my own mouth, and began walking. You fight nightmares by defeating them. How do you defeat them? I turned to cyrus, looming over us, the leavanny turning to face him, by pulling out her blades. She was in no shape to fight.

    "You're more scared than you smell. And you wouldn't know how to use that body. It doesn't fit you at all," I said to her. "That's not how we're going to beat this nightmare, honey." I told her, walking away, Cyrus and the bodies disappearing as we left. Instead, we were in a desolate, dry land, dust whipping in my eyes.

    "The kid you're looking for," I said as we walked, and I held her in my arms. "Their name. It's Oust. I named them, because he was ousted from the distortion world. He's Giratina's kid. And I love him, all right? I love all of my nest-mates," I said. The leavanny stared off into the distance. Did she understand? I didn't know. I had to assume so.

    "I like being a pokemon." I told her. "This body. It doesn't feel weird. It's hard to breathe." I said, coughing as if Dawn's body decided that I was supposed to be dying. I had to sit down.

    "It wasn't even" I said, "just Emphysema " I told leavanny-Dawn. "But that doesn't matter," I said, "now does it? We're here now." Having actual lips felt weird, but they were going numb anyway. Gray clouds moved into the horizon.

    "Hey Darkrai," I said, the leavanny immediately perking up.

    A pool of shadow formed beneath my feet, lengthening, before turning into the cloud of white hair with red vest, body of black. The god of nightmares was nice enough to appear.

    "Ach—" I coughed, trying to speak. "Dawn wants help," I said, "to find this Cyrus".

    My face was going numb. Darkrai didn't speak, but instead, gave me a thumbs-up.

    I turned to Dawn-the-leavanny, coughing.

    "Keep a secret?"

    ~~~​

    When I awoke, I was flying in the air at remarkable speed.
     
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    • That's so awesome.
    I like how the end left it ambiguous whether they had swapped back or not. It happening in the first place is also really believable, as Dawn's psyche was actually really unstable going into this, so the one that felt more human could very well be Leah. Leah's emotions also having an exaggerated effect on Dawn's weakened psyche was really neat. Also, Darkrai just giving thumbs up is great.

    Them flying through the air also is really good, since having even the Legendary Pokémon and humans not understand each other (I'm assuming Darkrai sent them after Cyrus literally) adds to the sense of them as 'Gods' in a way that actually makes it reasonable to worship them.
     
    Chapter 46 - Skirmish
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    • ~~~ Chapter 46 - Skirmish ~~~​

    I couldn't see, but I could feel the air whizzing past my antennae and arms. I held my arms out, pushing as hard as I could, against the rushing, arresting my fall. It seemed to work, as my battle-dress also provided ample wind resistance. It wasn't enough to completely arrest my fall, as I still tumbled to the ground. But it was an unfair, dirty shot. Rolling on the ground, I could hear Lanky shout. Dawn's laying on her back, seemingly still passed out. Lanky had gotten up from his position on the bleachers, but I was opposite him, the alakazam was in the way, between Lanky and I.

    Why would it attack me? Did it see the dreams we were in? No, probably not. At least, not until Dawn and I were pulled to the same nightmare together. Should I attack the alakazam back? No. It was just a misunderstanding. It was just protecting its trainer. Who was asleep on the ground, still. I could hear Lanky shouting, but the alakazam was ignoring him, staring instead at me. She would awaken, at any moment, and put this whole thing to rest. Or at least, that was what I had hoped, as I put my arms on the ground, standing up. Her pokemon didn't like that very much, apparently, considering how a small, purple orb was now standing in front of it.

    I wasn't about to let myself be bullied by the psychic simp, however. Like earlier in the morning, I pulled my own energy, just a small amount, really. I must have been out of range of its more potent psychic attacks, given the Alakazam released the small orb glowing with purple poke-mana. I dodged the first one. I ran horizontally, trying to stay out of range. It would be a risk—if Dawn really was stuck in the nightmare realm, she wouldn't be out of it until either Darkrai let her out (assuming he could…), or Dawn learned her own way out of nightmares. Another series of the purple bullets launched themselves at me.

    Was he even aiming? I asked myself, as another series launched. I'd pulled my own mana, the neutral version, with low-heat, into my mouth. Like before, it was viscous and chunky. And difficult to hold, while running in circles. Blobs of purple embedded themselves in the ground at my feet. I pulled the blob of pokemana energy to the front of my mouth, then bit into it, splitting the ball with a loud CRACK!, which echoed, reverberating across the gym walls, bouncing them off. The alakazam just shook its head. Figures. I thought. I had only been a leavanny for a couple of months, if that. Dawn's alakazam had fought and won against world-class opponents.

    I needed practice. A couple of the blots of energy had dissolved from my attempt, the leftover pokemana dissolving inside my body. Regardless, the ground beneath me was still littered with the "spent" bullets answering the question of whether alakazam was aiming. The answer was a stark not for you. All the orbs beneath my feet exploded at once, releasing mind-deafening blasts. I tried to direct what mana I could scrounge up, and take a risk—putting it all up into my head, even as I ran, dodging between the explosions, their sounds successfully reducing my mind—I had no place left to go but directly into the alakazam.

    If Dawn was still knocked out and her alakazam wasn't going to let up, I ran at him. Away from the purple mines that had been laid, I jumped, I raised my right blade, stabbing down, targeting the alakazam's shoulders. As I did, I had managed to draw a tiny bit of blood, but what should have been a devastating blow, my momentum was halted, and it was like cutting through frozen butter. The alakazam just stared at me. I could feel its presence trying to pass over me, to push on my body, but it was slipping. Its grip wasn't as strong as before. I was managing to resist its mental grasp. A smell of tobacco had entered the room.

    I kicked off the psychic monster, pulling out my blade, hoping that would at least give it some pause, or a moment to consider it might have made a mistake. But no, what happened instead, was that my little papercut into its shoulder? It instantly healed up, as if the alakazam said that I wasn't even worthy of injuring it. But, I did disorient the pokemon enough that he didn't have free purchase to launch me into the air. So, that was something.

    "Leah!" Lanky called my name. "Return!" he had said. I stared down the alakazam. Who stared back. Then, with a huff, Dawn's unconscious body and bag both floated up. She slightly slipped before being caught again and raised up. Alakazam reached out, touching her limply hanging hand. The pair of them blinked from the gym. Lyra and her meganium stood at the primary entrance to Lenora's atrium, Lyra covered in the scents of strong cigar, scent otherwise masked. The fake-detective was nowhere to be seen.

    Just protecting their trainer.

    I ran over next to Lanky, who was midway through the gym floor to me, my pokeball in his hand. He put it back on his belt, before picking me up with a twirl. Lyra and her meganium were stepping in. In her hand, was a long badge, one that looked like a book-mark. She really smelled like cigar smoke. Lyra and the meganium surveyed the room, using my name multiple times, talking to Lanky, asking questions, lanky answering with short, one-word answers as I sat in his arms. A man with sunglasses and a jump-suit peeked his head in the room. He had two water bottles on him, tossing one to lanky, who caught it with his left one, and the other to Lyra, who just gave him a wave.

    Lanky popped the cap off the bottle and gave me a sip of the water.

    ~~~​

    As the humans had their own brief, soft-toned conversations, Lanky constantly glanced at me, before I got bored and hopped on to the ground, exploring the room a bit. I could have used some more practice, but was worried that we would need to leave to try and search for the alakazam. Minutes of conversation later, Lyra had apparently convinced Lanky and I to have a go at it with her meganium. I knew this was coming, eventually. Lyra's meganium was tall- more than twice my height, just to hop on its back. Walking up to her, I gave her a light poke.

    Meg, I decided to call her, her entire body just bristled with muscle. She looked round and soft, but if a pokemon could have a hard body, meg was no slacker. "Leah!" Lanky grunted out, his face flush. Meg's eyes and scent faced me with slight curiosity. I wasn't about to agitate her. I couldn't even give the alakazam more than a second's pause. Could I even draw blood? Highly doubted that I could.

    Lyra moved, putting a finger over her mouth, pulling up the detective's briefcase that was left on the floor, as Lanky was flipping it back and forth in his hands, talking with her, practically gasping for air. When I realized he wasn't choking out, I turned back to the meganium.

    "Leea", I tried, drawing a glance from Lyra, as she thumbed through the contents, making ruffling sounds with the various papers.

    C'mooon. Meg stood up, wrapped me with her vines, then just threw me across the room. It was, actually, a softer toss than Dawn's alakazam had tossed me. Did I want to solve problems? I held out my arm-blades, using them to direct the flow, slowing me down as I landed on the ground. That time, I just had to bend at the leg-joints. No rolling across the floor. Did I want to go out, solve crimes, and help Dawn? Meg was walking to the center of the ring. To be frank? No, I didn't really want to. Not any more, anyway. Well, not her problems, anyway. I wasn't about to run into Giratina's realm. Not of my own free will, at least. If Dawn wanted to follow Lanky and I around and help Leaf and I train? I wouldn't say no. But no way in hell was this bug willingly walking into that mountain again. With the help of morally dubious celebi or not, I vowed. I want the payment up front, at least. Dawn didn't even have the courtesy to give me any of the conditioner or honey.

    Meg and I met in the center of the ring, Lanky holding my pokeball, as Lyra just ignored us, sifting through the trove of papers the faux-detective had left behind. Had she known it was a different person? Little… particles were falling out from behind the red and white flowers which wrapped around and adorned Meg's neck. I hopped back. A few of the particles had hit my arm, but I had managed to jump away in time. Lanky talked to Lyra, walking over to my side of the ring. I needed to learn more human language. Tone just wasn't going to cut it. Lanky and Lyra exchanged words, before Lanky finally took a breath, deciding to just watch us from the sidelines.

    ~~~​

    "Are you sure?" Art asked Lyra, rubbing his neck. He was there, in the Nacrene gym, but another part of him was back at Castelia, standing next to Aurea as they both stared at their pokemon, Leah dancing and leaping through a minefield of electricity.

    "Yes." Lyra said, not even looking up. "Let them play. Meg is… not an average pokemon. She was top tier even as a little chikorita."

    Art rolled his eyes. He'd heard it before.

    "Meeeg!" Meg brayed from the center of the gym's battle-floor. Though, his eyebrows did perk up.

    "That's right, hon! Be soft and try not to kill the bug, please!" Lyra said, picking through the briefcase' papers, practically humming to herself.

    "Maaae," Lyra's pokemon responded from the center of the atrium. Leah jumped away even further. He did have to admire Lyra's sheer confidence.

    ~~~​

    Figures—I was being toyed with. Which was to be expected, really, but after I had the fight with the ampharos, and after I wasn't immediately stomped by the alakazam, I had been feeling pretty good, and was hoping I had managed to skip the line in terms of strength, but, well, I hadn't skipped quite as far ahead of the line as I thought. There were windows in the room, but the sun wasn't direct. I wasn't getting any boost from the sun. Not unless I wanted to experiment more with my pokemana.

    ~~~​

    "Are you gonna take the title they gave you on TV, Burgh?" Lyra asked Art, reshuffling the papers and putting them back into the briefcase.

    "Do I have any other choice?" Arty rebutted. Leah was running around the room, trying to fling leaves at Meg. Each and every one bounced off a dome of light. Meg sat down on her haunches, before lying down and curling their head in, as if to go to sleep. Leah hadn't caused the pokemon to move a single inch. Leah was darting around the room, flinging leaves at it, to no avail.

    "Hah! I suppose you don't," Lyra said.

    Art still had his eyes on the lopsided battle. "Do you ever give commands during fights?" Arty asked.

    "I haven't given Meg a command in a fight for nearly ten years now." Lyra said.

    "What!?!" he asked.

    "Basic strategy," she said, as if it answered his question. When Artemus didn't respond, she continued: "Look kid, I don't have the patience to tutor you on all this stuff. I've got a lot going on right now. I'm studying for my PhD in archaeology, and two hours ago I just broke up with my boyfriend who's already moved their shit out of the house—" She paused—"and not only that, but I'm going to leave town and head back to Opelucid city. I'm leaving the gym."

    Art's heart sunk at that last bit. Seeing how well Meg was meting her power out to keep from hurting Leah had given him hope that they could get at least a couple weeks' worth of practice. Leah was improving—fast. Leah had parked herself between Lyra and the meganium, and was standing still. Similar to how she was standing earlier that morning. He smiled as a breeze picked up in the closed-off room. He frowned as he noticed the vine Leah was standing over. Burgh wanted to shout. But, instead he clutched Leah's ball, ready to throw it before his pokemon got seriously hurt.

    Lyra chuckled.

    ~~~​

    Meg really was curled up, as if to say I wasn't even worth the time to play. Now, that just… wasn't fair! If you're in a mutually-agreed skirmish and the opponent mocks you by lying down as you're trying to have some fun, it's okay to get a little experimental. At least, that's what I told myself. I ran around, positioning myself between the single set of bleachers and Meg. I pulled the mana in, spread my legs apart, bracing myself, then spread the mana through my arms as much as I could, pushing it forward, as it rolled like waved in the ocean against my limbs. My abdomen hummed, it was quiet, and it was soft, but I pressed, and I continued to press.

    A soft wind kicked up. The meganium's antennae were all that I could see, she didn't even bother to turn her head to face me! Oh, that made me so mad. I pressed harder, and the wind emitting from my body picked up, before a flash of green shot out, "shink!" it hit the dinosaur's light-dome. I continued pressing the poke-mana. Another shot out, then two more, lighting up the screens with a "Shoink! Shink! Sheenk!" a final four shot out. "Shinkshinkschinkshink"

    That took most of my mana, but it didn't even penetrate the barrier. Underneath my feet—was a vine. I was upside down. A moment later, my face was in the dirt.

    What the fuck.

    ~~~​

    "Hey Lenora." Lyra said as the gym leader entered the atrium, surveying the skirmishers.

    "Did the detective and Dawn get the answers they wanted?" Lenora asked, frowning as she caught a whiff of the fading scent of cigar smoke off the legendary trainer.

    "Don't know. I didn't get back from talking to Looker until after Dawn's psychic connection was broken" Lyra said, looking at Burgh, who did his best to keep his poker face in front of the intimidating gym leader. Lyra was supposed to have been watching the whole thing.

    Lenora raised her eyebrow. "I'm sorry?" the gym leader asked.

    Art spoke up. "Leah and Dawn apparently fell asleep. Leah woke up first, but Dawn's alakazam looked like it wasn't too happy about it. But it wouldn't let me get close enough to recall Leah."

    "When I got in, the alakazam picked Dawn up and teleported away with all her stuff," Lyra said, shrugging.

    Lenora crossed her arms, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Let me get this straight."

    ~~~​

    We were out front of the gym again, on the street of Nacrene City. Rolling and flashing in the light in Lanky's hand was Lenora's bookmark-looking badge. Lyra had tossed Lanky a briefcase and a pair of keys. While we were on the front porch of the gym, Lanky gave me another sip of water, which I accepted. The dream that I'd had implied that I should have expected two things: First, for the three of us to basically just sit in the gym for weeks as Leaf and I were ground to a pulp, or in Lenora's library as Lanky tried to teach me human words. But apparently Lyra had enough cachet to just… Not? I mean. Lanky had let Leaf out of his pokeball, deciding it wasn't worth the risk, leashing the poor bug up as we traveled through town. Together, the three of us walked through the city with a passing leisure, as Lyra and Lenora had apparently kicked us out? At least, that's what I could glean from the increasing scent of cortisol from Lenora and her hushed, yet stern tone.

    The gym leader's hand had wavered over her pokebelt, before she glanced at Lyra's meganium. The "conversation" ended, then Lanky, Leaf and I found ourselves on our way to Lyra's townhome. The midday sun was so excellent that the world around Leaf and I just seemed to slow down the longer we were under. Lanky didn't do a half-bad job of keeping up, either.

    ~~~​

    The first thing that entered Dawn's senses was the sense of honey in the air. The next, was the sense of her alakazam, occasionally sending out the gentlest, anxiety-ridden impulses against her mind. She sensed him across from her bed, meditating on the ground. Pip and the togetic rustled, indicating that her alakazam had done as had been trained. It had taken her a long time. A surprisingly long time to train the alakazam to follow these instructions. Not being a psychic like he was, there was an inherent… feeling of superiority from his default mindset. Why bother? He'd ask with his attitude alone. Dawn sat up, smiling as the wavering in the impulses disappeared, and were instead replaced with his characteristic confidence.

    Did pokemon get psychiatrists? She wondered to herself, wiping off the cold sweat that had apparently accumulated. She looked down at her pillow, pushing off the blankets. The nightmares she'd been locked in were already fading. Her mouth still felt strange, but she knew it was the effects of feedback. It would fade over the next couple days. He'd been a lot more gentle, after she'd been stuck in the hospital the last few days. A lot less resistive to her wishes. She'd wondered if it was exposure to some magic of the red chains, or a while from their pokeballs, and were themselves resting on the ground. Sweating, and tired as hell, she ignored the impulse to open the blinds and bask in the sun as much as she could, instead she rolled to the edge of the bed, pumped the room's air conditioner up as far as it would go, and fell back to sleep. This time, her dreams were far, far more pleasant.

    "Alakazam," she said, "teleport Pip and Toge somewhere safe for a few hours so they're not stuck inside while I sleep." He was reluctant to leave her, but eventually teleported, taking the whole team she'd brought to Unova out to some place he'd determined would be safe. She wasn't worried about her team. Not really. But she'd begun to feel a little guilty about how much time they were being left in their pokeballs, or trapped in her presence.

    Dawn had, the entire time she was in the hospital, recovering from her near-fatal distortion sickness, she had itched to get back out there and fight. And despite living through the worst nightmares she'd ever had—for the first time in several years, Dawn felt like it would be all right. Sure, she wasn't fully ready to let the damn break, to let her own hyperfocus break. But the first rays of light were peeking over her own horizons.

    She just had to remember not to eat all the honey.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 47 - Preferences
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 47 - Preferences ~~~​

    "You need to get up, Dawn."

    It was pitch black, except for the motel's shitty blinking clock. The television was off, and the room was freezing. She peeked through the curtains. Save a few road lights and the almost-full, yet waning moon, the sky was dark. She'd slept twice as long as she should have. The three members of her slimmer team were in the room with her. They'd spent little time outside the room, but alakazam had returned with both of them in tow. Dawn opened the dresser holding the pokeballs. Immediately they began beeping, releasing their contents. There was a slight struggle as the bugs took stock of their surroundings and spotted Pip and the togekiss relaxing on the floor. Dawn stumbled into the bathroom, her stomach churning as the bugs chirped and screeched before quieting down.

    Washing up, she looked in the mirror—was that her face? The face had the dark blue hair she did. Her eyes were light blue. Same clothes. She looked down at her hands. Wiggled her fingers. She needed to pack up and leave. Tossing on her jacket, she needed a shower. But she didn't care. Somehow, the face was smiling back. The toothbrush was in her hand. She'd slept well over eight hours. It was half-automatic. She glanced down, her checklist below her, her eyes had skimmed over them. She brushed her teeth, the nutri-bar in her free hand found its way into her mouth.

    "We could cover all of Sinnoh in skyscrapers in a matter of months"

    The pokemon had stopped screeching. Skipping the shower, as she followed the checklist. She was still smiling. She wasn't quite sure why. But she had a date to keep. Dawn found her way into the main room. Her hands moved over her stuff, packing, as she watched the bugs huddling. The pokeballs were still in the drawer she'd left open. She closed each pokeball, then pressed the button on each. They beeped red. She groaned internally. The bugs had, in a span of twenty minutes, made a mess of the room. She would rub her temple, but her hands were already tossing the pokeballs into her bag.

    Another part of Dawn was back in Eterna city, struggling to find a houndoom in the Grand Underground. An individual who she'd searn earlier bearing the Galactic Group's corporate badge was following her around. Whether a creep or one of Mars' thugs, she didn't know at the time. She'd only had her first badge by that point.

    Years later, she'd received a note from Looker. Not enough evidence to make an arrest of the group's leader, but enough of his group's prior crimes to seize some equipment. She was tired of bringing in grunts, but still, she had salivated over an opportunity to knock the man down a peg. Cyrus had held his confidence all through their battle. And, at the end, she was ready to strike the man down—if it weren't for the cameras and listening devices no doubt covering the walls, as well as interpol combing the building, she would have had Pip take the man out, right then, right there.

    Dawn's head swung across the room. Pip had—wisely—taken a perch on the room's windowsill, soaking up the air conditioner's frigid winds. Dawn picked up her own pokebelt from the ground. She fastened it to her waist. She then picked up her jacket, zipping it up. She didn't know if it would rain, she didn't care.

    Cyrus had invited her into his office. Hoping she could get something. Anything that could incriminate him, Dawn had accepted. That was one year prior, and at that point, she was already tired of the war. She'd oft wondered what toll it had taken on Looker. Just thinking about him, she could smell the man's brand of cigar smoke. Being a pokemon? Just worried about getting stronger? Having your meals taken care of? It was a gamble, for sure. But narrowing the types and kinds of concerns she had to caring for the pokemon around her?

    Being a pokemon seemed like a pretty good deal all told. Though she was currently revulsed at the thought of eating meat, this part of Dawn could see herself as a lurantis instead of a leavanny.

    She was looking down at her phone, bag packed, Pip held all four bugs in his arms. She'd recalled her togekiss. She'd sent Looker a message, and he'd responded. She would meet them, back in pinwheel. Looker would take the bugs. Dawn's hand tapped Pip and alakazam. Together, the seven of them teleported out of the room.

    ~~~​

    Leaf, Lanky, and I were back at the townhouse. Lyra and her meganium weren't there. Lanky and I were there, but… what little furniture was there earlier, was gone. The couch? Gone. Coffee table? Gone. I could still smell the taste of the detective from the other day in the air. But the detective was nowhere to be seen. Lanky didn't shout, but I could only assume he was as puzzled as I was. Leaf followed Lanky around diligently, seeking after as much candy as I could. Lanky set the briefcase on the counter of the kitchen, then stared at it for a moment, before deciding better of it.

    It was pretty dumb that we would likely be back on the road so soon. Despite being in a nightmare, I'd been missing out on a lot of context by not being able to understand some bits of human conversation. Together, we stepped out onto the townhome's front porch, leaving the now-extra-desolate townhome. As lanky had begun walking away, I clicked, drawing his attention.

    Fuck it, I thought. I should, at the very least, have worked on the simple with him, at first—the binary choices. If I wasn't going to be able to poke-speak, even with a god-fucking-tier meganium, and I was going to stick with humans— fucking hell. I stopped Lanky in the driveway, yeah. And, and I pushed on him, until he sat down on the grass. God, I was so tired of not being able to talk to anyone. I was going to go out there and beat their ass for not listening to me. But first, I needed to know what the fuck they were saying!

    ~~~​

    Burgh looked back at Leah, standing, fidgeting on the heating up asphalt that was Lyra's driveway. She ran up to him, practically pushing him back onto a small strip of grass. Fidget just watched, drooling with curiosity at his nest-mate's strange behavior. Burgh didn't exactly know what had gotten into her, but the only plausible explanation was that it was a side-effect of the psychic connection that Leah and Dawn had just a few hours ago. He wasn't super excited about taking her to the pokecenter agai—"What are you doing?" he asked, as Leah was digging into the backpack.

    "Oh shit!" he said—it was lunch time, and he hadn't fed Fidget at all, save for a few treats. He tilted the backpack away from Leah, eliciting an annoyed chirp from her, as he dove into the main pocket to pull out a packet of food for him. Fidget was still a little scary to feed, Art had nearly lost his fingers to the bug more than once. Instead, he dumped the fruits onto the ground, before turning back to Leah.

    "What are you looking for?" he asked, as he unzipped the pocket she was trying to get into. Leah pushed aside the fidget spinner and the small rubiks' cube that he'd stashed. Instead, what she was fixated on, was the piece of chalk. She had some slight trouble, but managed to loop the very tip of the tarsi—the one that extended about two inches from her blade—partially around the piece of chalk. She then immediately took it, and started marking up the driveway with it.

    "I know your species is known for being creative Leah," he said. What he didn't expect was for Leah to have a penchant for street art. He had been saving the piece of chalk, when he could stop at a store and pick up a small blackboard. She was smart enough to learn some more human words and maybe even read a few. Something that he didn't expect out of Fidget, who was, in contrast, just wrapping up scraping the dried fruits off the concrete. He appreciated the gusto with which she squiggled across the concrete.

    She set the piece of chalk down, looking at him expectantly. He just chuckled. The psychic feedback from Dawn had hit her pretty hard. "Veanniee" she vocalized, as if it was to explain everything she just put down. Some pokemon could talk, but only the smartest of the smart even bothered to attempt to learn to write.

    ~~~​

    He wasn't getting it! I looked down at the words I'd written! They were english! "Teach me words!" I'd tried to say. But he wasn't reacting! Lanky was just standing there, smiling! Look, you idiot! I have one goal right now. I just want to learn words! Put some unova kids shows on or something! I don't know!

    But no. I stared up at his stupid, dumb smiling face. "Eeaaannnneee," I complained. You know what? Fuck this. Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this horseshit. What was the simplest thing I could teach him? Darkrai—was giving me a thumbs-up? He only had three fingers though! I only had one! It was like, it was like being five years old again, and trying to tell my parents a story, but they were obviously not paying attention, so I had to keep repeating it over and over again, and they would just think I was a little kid getting lost in my words.

    I wasn't trying to draw pretty pictures, I was trying to draw because—because—I was tired of people not listening to me! Cyr— I caught the scent of cigar smoke—Lyra was coming back. Or the fake Looker had returned after taking a smoke, possibly to pick up his briefcase? I just had wanted to—I had just wanted to…

    What the fuck was I doing?

    ~~~​

    Leah tossed the chalk at his face, hitting him square in the forehead, the piece of chalk breaking in two, scattering onto the ground, clanging onto the pavement of Lyra's front walkway.

    "What was that for!?!" Burgh exclaimed, "what happened to you?"

    "She's trying to talk," Lyra said. He turned around in surprise. Meg was covered in marks. Lenora had challenged her to a battle, after all.

    "I got that much—" he said, before he shut up, realizing who he was mouthing off to. Lyra just smiled at him, her eyes relatively dead, smoldering ashes as she hopped off of her prize pokemon. Leah hadn't even reacted to the pokemon's approach, instead inspecting the bruises Meg had taken. As if the leavanny had already forgotten her goal.

    "If you're gonna stick around for a bit longer," Lyra said, hopping off the bruised light-green pokemon, causing Leah to jump back, "come with me," she said, opening the front door. "I'm gonna spray Meg down, then I'm gonna clean up and pack. My schedule just cleared up."

    Meg just walked past the teen and his two leavanny, her body language reflective of her own trainer's almost one-for-one. Art stared down at his leavanny's markings. It was pidgey-scratch, but it was linear pidgey-scratch. He frowned. Lyra was right. But it didn't make any sense—Leah hadn't demonstrated any knowledge of writing or language before that day. Leah had picked up a lot more from Dawn than he or Looker had expected.

    "Are you coming, Burgh?" Lyra asked, sliding the back door open.

    He picked up Fidget, then waved at Leah to follow. "Come on!" he said. Leah's stance was… stand-offish for a moment, then as he waved at her again, he decided to follow, kicking at the edges of her dress, as if she was pouting.

    "Close the door." Lyra commanded, as Burgh stepped out onto the back porch, holding a running water hose.

    "What happened?" he dared to ask.

    "Back at the gym?" Lyra asked, spraying Meg down. "Lenora's too much of a hardass for my taste," Lyra said, her eyes distant as she massaged the meganium's spots with a small, orange sponge. "That's all. She's not even always wrong, you see. I just… don't get along with her style of binary morality. People like her act like it's all a hardcoded set of rules, but it's just a charisma test."

    "Is that why you gave me the badge before I could be tested by Lenora? Because you didn't think I could jump through her training rounds?"

    "Pretty much," Lyra affirmed, matter-of-factly, mud running down the sides of her pokemon. It was like being punched in the gut.

    "You're a blank-slate, kid, and you wear it on your sleeve. Anyone who sees you can see your love and your dedication for your pokemon—but you've got no charisma. You're like a magikarp out of water." Lyra said.

    "Thanks for the endorsement," Art said. "Any … advice? For finding some more charisma?"

    "Got any members of the gods of the lake on speed dial? I heard they have a cave somewhere around Unova. At least, I think they've been spotted somewhere around this region." Lyra said, finishing rinsing Meg's left flank, as she turned 45 degrees, allowing Lyra to rinse the gym floor's clay from her rear legs.

    "Ha. Ha." he said. That was a risk he wasn't going to take. "You're pretty morbid, you know that? Are all the various regional champions this mean?"

    Lyra paused her scrubbing, giving him a look, before turning back to it. Leah and Fidget had gotten into a wrestling match. Art sat down on the porch-step, watching them play, sliding off his backpack onto the ground—pockets still open from when Leah was rustling through them. For a moment, he'd thought she was going to kick him out, but when she was silent, he decided to just watch his pokemon play.

    "So," Lyra broke the silence. "Leah's dramatically more intelligent than her cohorts, isn't she? Have you done a DNA test on her and her nest-mates?"

    "No, I haven't."

    "I'm sorry? It's literally just a checkbox at the pokecenter, isn't it? Can't you just take her to a pokecenter and get it done? It's free in both Kanto and Johto?" Lyra asked, incredulous.

    Art just shrugged. "Animal rights stuff or something."

    "Unova's banned all DNA tests? That can't be true. I knew Opelucid fired a guy a couple months ago because they abused pokemon in their testing, but that's a far cry from doing a quick saliva swab or blood test."

    "I'd have to pay a private group to do it, and the only money I've got is from the Castelia Gym's payroll as a basic trainer. Leah had some rocks embedded in her gut, that the pokecenter wasn't allowed to remove. At least, not until they'd pierced some of her internal organs the other day."

    Lyra's eyes were on fire. "That's tauroshit," she exclaimed. Meg rotated again for her. Leah had gotten bored, having thrown Fidget to the ground for the tenth time in a row. She instead was trying to dig through the backpack again, when Fidget snuck up behind her, tackling her to the ground with a pounce. She threw him off, not in a harsh way, but in a stern way, knocking him back into Lyra's wooden fence. The 'yard' was only about ten feet deep, and it was less of a lawn and more of a strip of grass.

    "Well, whatever," she said, as if that was the end of it all, turning back to Meg, washing the pokemon's right flank. "Your bug—"

    "Her name's Leah," he interjected.

    "—she's obviously smart enough to learn some language. Meg knows a lot of words, don't you?" Lyra said, scratching the top of her star pokemon's head.

    "Yeah, I know that—I was working with the Junipers to set up a curriculum and get material so I could learn to start teaching her."

    "But you taught her a few moves, as well as recall already?" Lyra had finished washing the dirt off, and was spraying the mud off the concrete, the water splashing him causing Burgh to push Leah, who was still struggling with the zipper locking her treats in a pocket, away. For a second, she looked like she was going to bite him, for getting in her way, before she relented. The multi-region champion of both Kanto and Johto turned off the hose after filling a bucket full of water.

    "Yeah, like any other pokemon," he said.

    "Those are commands. Have you tried preferences?"

    "You mean, like, me telling her not to do something? Or when I don't want her to do something?"

    "No! Gods no, she's your partner, not some robotic tool," Lyra said, "and she can already tell your preferences. Here's your first lesson. Now, do what I tell you, and let's see how Leah handles the basics."

    ~~~​

    "Leah!" Lanky said to me, catching my attention. I held back from snapping at him, for getting in my way, twice now. At least a little bag of treats would have helped. In his right hand, he held a dried fruit. In his left hand was one of the rock-candies. He spoke a word, then poked his left thumb up, making the universal thumbs-up sign. He spoke another word, then poked up his right thumb. He had caught on to what I was trying to do! Or, at least, I hoped that was what it was that we were doing. Leaf was staring at Lanky's hands. We were both drooling at the idea of getting candies. Lanky said the first word again, repeating the motion, raising his left thumb. Then, he poked up his right thumb after repeating the second word.

    I reached out an arm, and was about to poke his right hand, when he pulled them back behind his back. He brought his hands back, holding them open in his palms—Leaf tried making a dive for it, but was pushed back by a single vine. Noting the dramatically stronger pokemon's nudge, he backed up without fuss. He repeated the words, with the same gestures, without the food in his hands. As if he was saying "fruit" with his right hand, and "candy" with his left. But what was I supposed to do? Lanky then, gently, grabbed my right arm with his left, using his index finger to nudge my little tarsus up as he spoke the word for "candy". Then, he nudged my left arm with his right, pushing my left tarsus up as he spoke the single word "fruit".

    Oh. Oh! I thought. I pulled my arms back, and raised up my right arm, poking my tarsus straight up. Lanky jumped up, shouting with a little twirl. It felt pretty good to be one step closer to my goal. It also felt pretty good to have a piece of candy in my mouth again. It almost made up for two losses and feeling like shit. Leaf had been watching me, and was doing the same exact motion I was, clicking in satisfaction when he got a piece of candy, too. I put up my other arm, and got a piece of dried fruit.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 48 - Purity
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 48 - Purity ~~~​

    "All right, bucko," Lyra said, putting away her phone. "Dawn and Looker are gonna meet us to the west, back in Pinwheel proper tonight," she said, putting her backpack on. Meg was saddled with a vest to hold some packs. Leah was only about forty pounds, she could maybe hold a couple packs of dried food, but the weight was meaningless to him. Leah could maybe be trusted to keep a pack on, but Fidget? No way. If Leah set the pack down? She'd probably lose it.

    "Ready when you are," he said. Burgh was ready. That much, he knew. He tried to contain it, but he was practically vibrating in giddiness.

    ~~~​

    The five of us, with Leaf on a Leash, set off from Lyra's townhome. Lyra had given Meg a large meal— she could eat. And so, we started our journey, anew. This time, we went… back west. The exact way we had come. Even in the afternoon sun, when most people from my home-earth would be at work, as we roamed the streets together, humans, kids, and adults were still out and about! The city, for how much open space it had, was filled with people going about, socializing, talking to each other. Many neighbors had left their front doors open.

    On our way out of the city, at the edge, was an apartment complex, nestled into a small forest-like area. The buildings and humans on this earth lived a lot closer together. Even the professor's admittedly nice house was smaller than ones I was used to. We passed a moving van, parked in front of the apartment complex. A man in a green collared shirt was directing a pair of machamp as they lifted furniture into an apartment.

    I had stopped to watch, mesmerized at their coordination and training as they lifted a couch through, turning it with supernatural proprioception as they stepped through the front doorway. Lanky spotted me staring, and pushed me along before the pokemon had noticed I was staring. Probably for the best, anyway. I was just distracted from the goal.

    The five of us kept walking, Leaf following along as Lanky and Lyra continued talking. When we had finally left the city, the two trainers pulled out their bikes. Lanky pointed at the basket, saying a word, as if to ask "basket?" Then, in his other hand, he held out my pokeball, repeating the exercise. "... or pokeball?" from earlier. I made my choice. Sorry Leaf, shit sucks. But being stuck in a pokeball was a risk I wasn't willing to take. Lanky took Leaf out of his leash, recalling my nest-mate, before clipping him onto his belt, picking me up, and putting me in the basket.

    ~~~​

    The detective had known exactly what they were looking for. Darkrai was going to come, but waiting for everyone to arrive. At least, that's what Dawn felt. Even as she was about to meet the god of nightmares, deep in Pinwheel forest, Dawn shivered. Whether she was nervous or excited, this part of her did not know. She fidgeted in her pocket, checking her phone. It was just after midnight, and they were in a clearing. A dead bird was on the ground, covered in roots of an opportunistic grass type she couldn't make out. The moon's light shone from above. She stepped out into the otherwise pleasant grove, ignoring the cottonee and lilligant shuffling out of her way.

    "Don't lose them, please," Dawn said to alakazam and Pip, who set the four bugs down in the middle of the field as she sat down, crossing her legs to meditate. Pulling in her thought streams, it was goopy, sticky, like pulling on a bug pokemon's silk. Noodles that had been sitting in water too long. It was delicate, as she didn't want to separate the two too much. There were buds, she could feel them. Like the first time her thoughts had split.

    She had been understood—and by a pokemon no less, tears of joy, that things would get better for her, that they could get better for her, that really—just really—things would be okay. That she wasn't alone. Not really. But Dawn had already "known" this. She wasn't alone. Plans of hope, of life as a lurantis, the feeling of eating meat One was filled, condensed inside. Would the thought bubble into a deliberately new thoughtstream? One she could direct? Would it be useful to her? No. Having hope for the future? It was important, she would not disagree, but unbridled hope, unfortunately, was not just enough. Using the two thought-streams, they pulled the thoughts, feelings and emotions apart. It had reminded her of the first time her psychic powers had begun to manifest. When her abra had evolved, and she could trust it not to teleport at the first sign of danger.

    It was a rather uneventful day, considering. She'd just beaten Roark, and had acquired her first gym badge. The man had complimented her for her sturdy disposition, whatever that had meant. She had felt a second presence in her mind. One that was more "free", one that she could guide, and she had latched on to the opportunity to sense the world around her. She'd lost track of time, her then-kadabra had to wake her, guide her back to her own body.

    There was another bud, festering, she could feel its raw despair. She was going to have to leave that one alone, not ready to let the boil pop. Her body moved, she pulled her hands inside the sleeves of her jacket. She would have to deal with it soon, before it could manifest, but she didn't have the time for this divergence from her focus. Processing the memories and the feelings, even with three lines of thought running, it would get in the way of her goal.

    Riley had short, dark blue hair, wearing an outfit of blue and black, with a fancy, wide-brim hat on top. He was a decent looking guy, one with solid abilities. He was too old. Maybe if he had a younger sibling, she'd thought. Another part of her had smiled, somewhat perplexed at the time—she had never considered relationships so clinically, before. Her thoughts about Pip were not but love. But being a psychic was about learning to direct the mind and control it. She had no time for relationships, back then. She wanted strong partners. Ones who wouldn't abandon her. They had gone through the island's underground, and Riley had pointed out there were some trespassers on Iron Island, stalking Dawn.

    The fight was surprisingly bitter. They had come prepared with electric and dark types, specifically to counter both her and Riley. Pip was beaten to a pulp, but had managed to pull through with an extra heaping of food and Riley who'd brought a hyper potion along. The man wasn't just skilled. He was thoughtful. The interlopers had been dealt with, and Riley had healed Pip, enough that with a day of rest, he would be fighting fit on his own. After her extrajudicial "interviews"—the grunts had known nothing. Only that they were being paid an obscene amount of money to give her trouble.

    Riley had taken her into a secluded part of his private island, the man and his lucario expertly avoiding the restless and strong wild pokemon on the island. She had been taken to a lucario den. A group of riolu pups were running around, playing.

    "These are riolu, Dawn," Riley had said to her, back then on Iron Island. She'd had some measure of psychic awareness by that point, and was already tuning her focuses. "Roark had said you had a strong soul," Riley had smiled, "If you take one, and take care of it, it will grow into a lucario like mine, and I'm sure by then, that you'll be an even better Aura user than me."

    She had stuttered, her mind failing to process the opportunity in front of her. Lucario were world-class fighters. They were small, but their steel density meant they held more mass than they seemed. Their ability to project themselves meant that even if you outmassed them, they could deal surprising amounts of damage that you might not even see. And they had excellent awareness of the world around them. Dawn, though? She didn't have any desire to specialize in Aura. She wanted mental control. What good was a mind if you couldn't reign it in?

    She had pulled out a pokeball, accepting Riley's gift. Unfortunately, the riolu was still the weakest member of her team. Training them up was yet another diversion. She needed to focus all her time on training up her psychic ability. She had been able to connect her mind to the greater world. Sure, the range wasn't as good, and she was missing out on some of the greater physical benefits, but all Riley could do with his aura was make his hand shine. Didn't feel particularly useful for her at the time. She'd already chosen a different path, and was beginning to specialize. Even the strongest and most specialized of humans, the abilities they could exhibit— amounted to parlor tricks. She had wanted, she had needed results. And she was willing to do what it took to get them. Lucas seemed a lot more excited about learning to use aura. Ranted and raved about it, even. That was the last she'd seen of her hometown friend.

    Dawn pulled her mind out of that thought-bubble, a taste of what-could have been layering over her mouth. She'd been letting that one sit for long enough. She could never actually learn aura. At least, not meaningfully. Humans just weren't built for that.

    ~~~​

    "Uh, Lyra," Burgh had asked as they stepped into the field, looking around, guided by the moonlight.

    "Yeah?"

    "This is the same field where we met Virizion, just the other day."

    "Oh?" she said, her tone dismissive.

    "Yeah, that's where Leah, uh. She uh, she learned Sunny Day back there, and blasted him with a solar beam."

    "Wait. Really? Why the hell would she do that? Not even Meg did that" she said, dropping her voice to a whisper, as they spotted Dawn in the center of the field.

    "Meg's fought a god?"

    "More like sparring, really." She said, "now shut up. Looker said she's convinced Darkrai is going to meet her here."

    "Yeah, she is," a man said, approaching from behind them. "Don't mind me, I'm just here to take the bugs," the man said, pulling out four wooden pokeballs, zapping the three swadloon and the leavanny.

    Burgh looked at Lyra, who nodded. "Let him," she said, before standing up. "I'm going to see if I can stop Dawn from committing suicide chasing a white wailord."

    ~~~​

    "Dawn. Hello? Dawn?" Lyra said, snapping her fingers in front of the trainer's face, as Leah's nest-mates were sprayed by small blasts of water, being poked forward by Dawn's empoleon, when they saw Burgh they rushed to his side, then huddled behind their nest-leader, away from the venerable water-bird. Burgh's face turned sour.

    Why did she have them?

    "What? What?" Dawn said, her eyes refocusing as Burgh turned and stepped to the side, egging Leah and the bugs to follow him. They needed to get some extra distance—Meg would win any fight, if she sparred with virizion, but anyone and anything caught in the middle would, inarguably, be the losers.

    "Are you sure you really have to do this?" Lyra said, her eyes lit with fire as she glanced at the man dressed in Looker's clothes, who stood back, stepping further away. He'd taken Leah's nest-mates in a new set of pokeballs. Pokeballs weren't supposed to work on any but the pokeball they were registered with initially. Those were hand-crafted. No safeguards. The man was young— easily five years junior to the real Looker. Burgh's gut sunk. He knelt down to Leah, pointing at the retreating detective as Lyra was handling Dawn.

    "String shot," he whispered to Leah, holding his finger over his mouth as if to suggest quiet. Leah stared at him for a half-second too long, before nodding.

    "Yes! I have to bring Cyrus back! He's—"

    "Cyrus is already dead, Dawn," Lyra said, her voice unamused.

    "No. No he's not! Looker wouldn't have sent me here if he was!" Dawn said, incredulous at the suggestion that the detective had lied to her.

    Lyra rubbed her eyes. She knew how it went, chasing down the thing she'd had her eyes set on for years. For a moment, she was back, traveling through the smashed remains of Team Rocket, back in Johto. She had joined Looker back then, and Lance, pushing the crushing the mafia-team back, back to the underground. She and Meg had spent a couple years, smashing through Team Rocket's attempts to reform, broadcasting like idiots over the radio waves to Giovanni, who was nowhere to be found, as if they thought the man was listening, instead of hiding away back in the mountains.

    "Dawn, please" Lyra had said. "It's okay, don't do this to yourself. You can let the world save itself, you know. It's pretty good at doing that."

    She'd climbed the Tin Tower with that rainbow, seven-colored feather, one she'd since turned into a necklace. Her and Meg had both been covered in burns, enduring its cataclysmic, yet rejuvenating fire. At the same time her body was falling apart, she'd felt a new breath. Holding the ball in hand, not knowing if it even had the powers ascribed—powers to quell any, and all pokemon, to align them to the holder. Imbued with pieces of the lake trio, Team Rocket members had claimed—Meg even while burning alive, holding every ability she could— and failing to hold back the burning waves of fire atop the tower, managed to pin the bird down for a few seconds, but it was all Lyra had needed. Long enough to catch the phoenix. She had almost expected the ball itself to bounce off, or to melt, or to break. But no, it had held—and caught—a god.

    "Dawn," Lyra said, taking a deep breath. "Pause for a moment. Breathe. It's okay. Come here." Lyra said, waving at the girl to approach her. Dawn's two pokemon maintained semi-aggressive postures, yet unmoving, unsure of what to make of Meg, who, by comparison, held her own, indifferent one. Even though it had not escalated, both parties were simply waiting for their trainer's commands. Lyra would win if they needed to fight, of that, Lyra knew. Dawn's pokemon probably knew that. But they would fight anyway, and Lyra, while not really knowing Dawn, had an idea that the girl who'd similarly been deprived of her teen years, would not back down.

    Such was their life. Such was their bond.

    "I… I can't," Dawn said. "It's not over yet." Her hand twitched over the ball with the M on her belt, taunting her. "I need— I need to stop that man," she said, looking around in the midnight forest. Leah and Burgh were gone.

    ~~~​

    I caught what Lanky was asking me, it just took a moment to process—like a subconscious part of me was saying "Really? Betray him?" It was silly; I had never met the fake detective until earlier that day. But he was making off with my nest-mates, and while I knew Lanky wouldn't have enough food to really provide for them, it would get in the way of my goal… If he wasn't comfortable letting the fake detective take them, then I most definitely wasn't comfortable letting anyone take Bonk and the swadlies.

    I crept back, behind the underbrush, where we'd come, leaving Lyra and her meganium to talk to Dawn and her pokemon. I had a mission to complete—stop the guy from running off with my nest-mates! The moment we were out of direct earshot, the guy in the trench-coat had started running. Which, well, when you're pursuing someone and they start running, you really only have one choice—go after them! Even in the dark, it wasn't even a contest. I caught up to the man, launching myself onto his back, and plowing him into the earth. I didn't want to cover him in silk if I could keep him on the ground.

    It was hard to filter through the cigar smoke on the man, but he had a faint trace of Lyra's meganium on him. He had a leather shoulder bag on. I let out a soft "click" as the man spoke in quiet tones and grunts. Lanky came up to us, as I sat on his back.

    ~~~​

    "So tell me, who are you, really?" Burgh asked as Leah sat, triumphant on the detective's back.

    "An ex-detective," the man said, "just put my notice in today."

    "So that really WAS you, huh?" he asked. "You looked a lot different from this morning, and a lot different from the Looker I met the other day," he said.

    The ex-detective just chuckled.

    "Save your questions for Anabelle. I'm just fodder in comparison, kid. And care to tell Leah to get off my back? Her dress is a lot sharper than it looks."

    "First, these questions are simple, detective." He only cared about one question, really.

    "I just need to know. Why did Dawn have those pokemon?" he asked. They weren't his pokemon, technically, and he couldn't take the pokemon with him, even if he didn't trust the detective not to run off with them. If they were stolen, chances are they would instead, be fed to a bird or left out in the wild. He could only hold three pokemon, two for gyms, one for training, at least until he had his second badge. In fact, he'd completely forgotten about the silcoon back at the Nacrene City gym. Would it still be there? He hoped so, though those manicured lawns didn't seem like the caretakers of the property would be happy about bugs hanging out so close to the edge.

    "Ahem, can you have her hop off? She'll tear a hole in this coat if she hasn't already."

    "Leah, hop off him, please" Burgh said, waving Leah to him, who hopped off the guy's back with nonchalance.

    "Kid, you're way in over your head if you're going to go around chasing people like this," the detective started to exclaim, "but if you really have to know, Dawn used the bugs to practice earlier. So I borrowed them from professor Juniper for her. The pokeballs they were in were broken, so I had to bring some custom made ones. There. Happy?" he asked, rolling over, sitting up.

    "Homemade pokeballs have been banned for use for a while," he said, but his voice was wavering—the detective was right. He probably was in over his head if he was going to try and chase this mystery down. They had to have safety protections—auto-release mechanisms, maximum-length timers, sensors for stress of the pokemon inside, and prevention of catching other trainer's already-registered pokemon. Homemade pokeballs had none of those safety features. Burgh didn't know what to say. He'd heard of pokeballs breaking before… But who was he to really judge? Did he want to become like Dawn? He'd only seen the girl for a few hours. The professor wouldn't have released the pokemon to someone who would hurt or steal them, surely. He let out a sigh.

    Burgh just shrugged, feeling slightly better. "All right," he said. "Good luck finding a new job," he said.

    The detective just laughed. "Thanks. And that was thoughtful of Leah, though next time, just have her spray the target in silk," ex-detective laughed, beginning his own jog off.

    ~~~​

    Lyra paused. She'd been down this road before. Blue had tried to talk her down. Tried to tell her it wasn't worth the costs. She hadn't understood at the time. Dawn wouldn't understand now.

    "Don't worry Dawn, I won't stop you," Lyra said. "Let me at least give you a gift." She pulled out from her backpack a necklace—on it, was a single large feather, glinting in the moon and starlight with colors of the rainbow.

    "T-Thank you," Dawn said, stepping forward, reaching out, accepting Lyra's gift and putting it around her neck. Her face gleamed under the starry night.

    "That feather is sacred," Lyra said. "Don't lose it, even if you die. Not until your quest is done."

    Dawn smiled, "Don't worry, I won't."

    Had Lyra been pure enough that Ho-Oh had truly accepted the battle? Once she caught the legendary bird, now resting on her belt. The symbol and force of nature that she now ascribed her own desire for renewal—No, she'd decided. It wasn't actually about purity. For pokemon, it was never that simple. Never so binary. And when she'd learned Ho-oh's heart and the nature of the ball she'd wielded. It had filled her with a fire to burn the region down and start afresh. But she couldn't. Not without attracting attention. Not without the others getting in the way.

    Death was, for her, and for all she burned, just another beginning. Even so, if she tried… Ethan was out there, and the oceans would heed his call. That said, she was getting restless, itching for a truly good fight one of these days. She yearned to let Ho-Oh fly over the scorched earth, her own heart and mind in sync with the phoenix sitting in stasis on her belt as the shadows lengthened and grew around them.

    Luckily for her, Unova was on track for burning in its own, unique way.

    ~~~​

    "Leah!" Burgh called, stopping her in her tracks before she pounced on the detective again. When the pair returned to the spot they'd left Lyra and Dawn, it was just Lyra, sitting on a log, poking a stick into the ground. She wasn't crying, though Lyra's eyes were somber, the air lightly rolling as the light refracted in awkward ways.

    He looked down at Leah, smiling. He and his bugs would find their own way through. No, he didn't care to become like either Dawn or Lyra.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 49 - Campfire
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 49 - Campfire ~~~​

    Rolls of distortion had burst out, passing over me, momentarily shifting my visual senses in the waves, the way Oust's portals did, as if I was back at the entrance of the mountain. Lanky had decided to let the detective go, either not noticing the wave, or ignoring it. Lanky had called me back, telling me to keep from trying to pursue the guy. I just had to hope that my nest-mates would be safe. With the man gone, the two trainers pulled out their packs, Lyra setting up a small tent as Lanky pulled a bunch of rocks in a circle—they were going to build a fire! I could help with that. I went out into the woods, picking up now-dried cotton from the other day's rains, as well as a couple of sticks. As I dropped the sticks down in the circular pit they'd tossed together, both Lyra's and Lanky's heads had followed me, their conversation interrupted.

    ~~~​

    "Okay, did you teach her to do that?" Lyra asked Burgh, watching Leah go back out to the edge of the treeline of virizion's meadow.

    His chuckle was wry. "No." He said, "no, I did not teach her how to build a fire. In fact, I'd never even built a fire around her. I haven't built a fire since I became a trainer. You should see how deftly she finds her way past locks. Though she seems to have trouble with zippers and tiled floors." Burgh was smiling. He was happy that Leah's own peculiarities managed to break through the heavy mood. He hoped Dawn was okay, of course, and maybe in a few years, he'd be able to help people like her.

    "Huh. Meg doesn't like fires. To this day, she won't help me build one."

    "Meeeg!" her pokemon said.

    "Don't worry hon," Lyra said, "I'm not asking you to!" Lyra gave her pokemon a hug around its neck. Leah made another supply run, dropping the sticks in the center of the circle of rocks.

    "This seems really dangerous for Leah to be so gung-ho about," Burgh said.

    "Yeah. Uh. Makes me wonder if I… what she would do," Lyra said, before dismissing the thought.

    "Let's not instill sheer terror in my best friend," he said. "She already is terrified of anything that comes from the sky… I'm not sure what pokemon you have on your belt, but…" he followed Leah, who had picked up a couple of bigger sticks, too tall for her to carry, leaned them up next to the side of a tree, then did a spinning chop, slicing the branches in two, before picking them up and carrying them into the pit. When no stick poked out from the pitiful fence of rocks, Leah seemed satisfied, before looking at Burgh, as if she expected him to light it.

    "That's not natural," Lyra said.

    "Exactly!" he said. "Isn't she so weird!"

    Lyra chuckled. "Okay, first off, bugs are weird. That's why they give psychic, fighting, and dark types so much trouble."

    "I know," Burgh said, "I can read the pokedexes 'pedia, too. I'd just figured most of the latest weirdness was from psychic feedback… But that's probably not how it works, is it?"

    "It shouldn't? I mean, you'd need to complete an actual rigorous scientific study, and I'm only studying ancient hieroglyphics." Lyra said, as Meg returned with a spot for her trainer to sit on. "Psychics are more vulnerable to feedback from bugs, but it shouldn't be the reverse…" Lyra trailed, before her eyes lit up. "Let's watch her over the next few days, because this doesn't feel to me like the kind of behavior she'd pick up. If Leah did pick anything up from Dawn, it would be more from Dawn's mindset, not an obscure memory like setting up a campfire. At least, I'm eighty-percent sure."

    "Eighty-percent?" Burgh asked.

    "Yeah, I don't know everything," Lyra said. Burgh flinched a bit. He didn't even know why Lyra wanted to stay up so late.

    ~~~​

    Lanky and Lyra had both stared at me for a moment, as I stood in front of them, waiting for Lyra to pull out a lighter, when I heard Meg let out a soft grunt. I turned around, and with a loud thud, a log dropped onto the ground, kicking up a wave of dirt, causing me to yelp in slight surprise as I was sprayed by dust and leaves. Lanky detached Leaf from his belt, releasing the goober. I was trying to listen to their words. It was as if I was just missing a few links, a puzzle with a few pieces. One where the bottom half had been filled in first, and each new word, it was like filling in the gaps. I was a lot closer to having the full picture now, when I was actually prioritizing learning some extra words, though I could feel the motivation and the direction to do so already leaving me. If I really, truly wanted to live with humans, and to have a shot of deciding my own fate, rather than get nightmares of being stuck in an eternal grind.

    I would have to stand up and fight the bird as it stood in front of me. Watching the confidence and casualness that Meg exuded from her scent, nothing, nothing bothered her. As if she'd hit the top of the totem pole and nothing could knock her down. As if she had nothing which would predate upon her that kept her up at night. I salivated over the desire for that to be me. I would have to deal with the threats of pokeballs, of humans taking me, but if I was strong? Could they control me? No. And being strong doesn't just mean physically-strong. It meant understanding the world and putting myself in it. I loved Lanky, but I wanted to get stronger because—I wanted to get stronger because—

    I didn't actually want to fight.

    And how do you, as a pokemon, if you enjoy being a pokemon, get out of fighting, while still being around humans? How do you get your sugars and eat them too? How does a pokemon-pacifist thrive?

    Become strong enough that nothing else can fight you.

    Looking at Lyra, her honed confidence, the way everything just slid off her. The way her scents said she had nothing to worry about, contrasted with Lanky's more restrained… anxiousness, the way he twitched when she spoke, the way his tone had wavered even while we had the upper hand. I needed to fill the puzzle in. I needed to not be afraid of every bird that flew overhead. Lyra's lighter flipped on, and I reflexively hopped back. Bug-me was NOT okay with fire. This wasn't a dream, no.

    And compared to the slight ripple in Meg's leaves, it was as if I was standing at the base of a mountain—one that went on thousands of feet, all the way up, up into the clouds. And I felt like I was at the bottom. I knew I wasn't really that far down, but no matter how much my thinking brain would try to console me, I would be having a rough time with the birds and fires in my dreams that night. I'd found myself in a tree, facing the campsite, next to Leaf, who had already found a branch. Together, we had found our way to a tree at the edge of the meadow, and I hadn't even registered it. Resting for the night, at least, at this distance, I was comfy, only occasionally stirred from slumber during my nightly torpor as a piece of smoke drifted our way.

    ~~~​

    Leah was still staring at Lyra, unmoving. Art's senior shivered a bit, before opening the lighter and flicking it, the spark causing the bug to flash into motion, hopping back. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages—Kate had left Castelia, and was crossing the SkyArrow, but was told to stay out of Pinwheel proper by rangers, but wasn't told why. She'd probably cross paths with them in the morning, if she didn't fall asleep on her bike, that was. He wasn't about to ask Lyra if his friend could join them—felt a bit like too much imposition when he was lucky Lyra was letting him follow her around, at least until they needed to meet in Opelucid City.

    Lyra didn't offer him a seat, or to have Meg chop it up for him. So he instead just pulled his sleeping bag a distance away from the sparks, as the little campfire trickled first, then roared to life as the fire spread from the little piece of paper, then to the dry leaves and kindling. It was Lyra who broke the silence, sitting on top of her log.

    "Leah didn't just gather the wood, you know," Lyra said.

    "I know," Burgh said, smiling as he stared into the flames. She'd chopped up the largest sticks, then stuffed cotton and dry leaves into the center.

    "Shit's weird, Burgh."

    "Yeah. And?" He already knew he was weird. He already knew Leah was weird. Didn't need another person telling him that.

    "Makes me wonder," Lyra said.

    "That she had another trainer already?" he asked. "She wasn't registered to anyone in the pokemon system. I mean, she could be modified by some group for nefarious reasons," he said, only half-joking.

    "She could be a Faller," Lyra said.

    "I'm sorry?" He asked. "A Faller?"

    Lyra choked. "A Faller is a person who's woken up and only has a few memories of their past life. They remember few minor details, and often still have things like muscle memory and dreams which hint at their past."

    "I don't think that's what she is," Art said, "because that still wouldn't explain why she wasn't registered to anyone."

    "But you're sure no members from her nest demonstrate the same level of intelligence or behavior she does?" Meg knelt down, before lying on her belly, wrapping her face around her prone body, ensuring it was away from the fire. She'd avoided looking into it at all.

    "Yeah. None of them, even the ones imitating her, are quite so natural. It's like watching a nine year old, followed by siblings half their age. For the record, I did try to get her comprehensively tested at Professor Juniper's Lab."

    "And he said no, because he's an asshole?" Lyra said.

    "Asshole is a bit mean, but pretty much. The Lab isn't allowed to do anything without his permission, and he won't give it."

    "Good thing he's retiring next month, then." Lyra said, smiling.

    "Wait, what!? How would you know that? The man doesn't say anything like that to me. Not even Aurea said that."

    "Have you checked the news?" Lyra asked.

    "Not since I got into town, no. I've been avoiding the news for obvious reasons."

    "Ah. Well, the old man's a bit old-fashioned, and Aurea beat Grimsley yesterday morning. Took her three tries, apparently. She has a scary, well-rounded team." Lyra said.

    "Does she scare you?" He asked, following her detour of the conversation.

    "I think Alder's the only person in the region that would give me any pause, even without his volcarona. Bad luck, that," she said.

    "Yeah, it's pretty bad. He'd just buried her that morning, when I was moved to Castelia gym, to try and raise the swadloons and become a trainer."

    "Oh? Do you know where she's buried?" Lyra asked. "We can give the man time on his own, but I'd like to pay my respects," she said. Meg adjusted her position, a small vine tapping Lyra on her leg. "Shh Meg, it'll be fine," she said.

    "Alder has a cottage out to the northwest of Castelia. I'm not sure where exactly, but the Junipers might know. I have Alder's phone number, I could text him, I guess?"

    "Oh for fuck's sake kid! No, we're not bothering Alder while he's out grieving just so we can di—" Lyra said, before hushing her voice.

    "You're going to dig up the grave of his dead pokemon!?!" he exclaimed. "And I thought I was weird! But no, if you're going to try and dig up his grave, I know I can't stop you, but… wow."

    "Oh shut up, don't pull that moralistic horseshit on me," Lyra said, standing up, causing him to shift back from her, as if Lyra was going to breathe flames over him. She looked down at him, across the fire pit, before sitting back down on her log.

    "Look kid, I'm not mad, all right?" she said. "You just… accidentally hit a sore spot."

    "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

    "Not really, no," she said.

    "All right," he said. Then asked, "Are you really going to dig up his bug's grave? You're not a necromancer, are you? Commanding legions of dead pokemon?"

    "What? Fuck no, no I'm not. I'm just a twenty-nine year old woman trying to get her PhD."

    "...who also—" he said, getting sassy, but Lyra held up her finger, keeping him from speaking any further.

    She began again. "Ahem—who also may or may not have reached full cathexis with Ho-Oh, unwittingly."

    His eyes went wide. Art made a mental note to look up the exact meaning of 'cathexis', then decided that probing her knowledge a bit would be better.

    "Bonded with, you mean? Synchronized?"

    "Hmm," she hummed, before continuing. "That's not far off, but how do I put it," she said, pulling the peculiar pokeball off her belt, rolling it around in her hands.

    "I'm not going to give you the full story, because believe it or not, I am starting to get tired," she said, yawning, "but recall the stories of trainers performing superhuman feats, ones that just don't happen for non-trainers, right?"

    He nodded. There were plenty. And he'd already read a few of the papers Aurea had sent him, loading them up onto his old pokedex. There was even scientific evidence saying those things should be happening for any active trainer or person well-specialized in pokemon. He wasn't completely sure himself, but he'd noted he was tempted to munch on the occasional candy he'd bought for Leah and Fidget at Looker's behest. He'd even noted himself getting hungry earlier that morning, until watching bugs get roasted took his enthusiasm away.

    "Yeah, that. They're all themed from the pokemon in your team, the ones you spend the most time with. You'll note that I don't have the same sturdy disposition Meg does, despite her being out all the time," Lyra said. "In fact, I'm only 120 pounds, and I assure you—" she said, smiling, "I do not have any eating disorder. I was 160 lbs of pure muscle, before then, actually. I'd been fully bonded with Meg for so long by that point."

    Burgh looked at the woman. She didn't seem that skinny, though granted, she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, kept her brown hair long, and was wearing a pair of jeans.

    "Do you have a craving to eat worms?" he blurted out, his curiosity getting to him.

    "What? No. I have no cravings to eat bugs of any kind," she said, her words exasperated. "Fires," she said, "I just want to burn it all down sometimes. Now it's my turn to ask you questions!" she said, pointing her finger at him, as Art was kneeling on the ground, the waves of fire and smoke drifting into the air, turning to coals as the largest of sticks Leah had gathered were finally burning down.

    "Shoot," he said.

    "First off, do YOU get a craving to eat bug food?" She said,

    "Yeah," he said, her attitude deflating.

    "Wait, what?" she said. He opened the back of his backpack, pulling out a pair of the Leavanny-specialized candy, putting one in his mouth.

    "Firing bags of shit," Lyra said, watching him, her face contorting as she processed just what was happening.

    "See, if you're going to go around digging graves, to perform some kind of phoenix voodoo or whatever on Alder's dead bug," he said, "then you can't judge me for my taste in candy. Here," he said, "try one. It's literally just layers of crystallized sugar with rock-hard fertilizer in the center. Leah and Fidget both love this stuff." He tossed the rock to her. It fell to the ground in front of her. She picked it up, sniffed it, then gave it a light lick, her mouth turning from a sneer, into a more neutral one.

    "I think I'm taking psychic damage right now" she said, putting it into her mouth, before spitting it back out onto the ground, seconds later. "That's the most concentrated sugar I've ever had," she said. "My tastebuds immediately curled up the moment the sugar actually started to melt."

    "I know, it's great!" he said, swishing it around in his mouth, as the first layer melted off. "Feht snexsht schelayer" he said, "raily melchs em yooor mooauf," he said, Lyra watching him. Meg grunted, her vine picking the piece of sugar Lyra had spat out of the ground, before choking, spitting it back out onto the fire, kicking ashes into the air, causing Artemus to cough at the unwelcome substances making their way into his lungs.

    "Unfortunately," he said, spitting the remaining rock out into the grass— "I probably shouldn't digest fertilizer."

    "Did you just do that to spook me!" Lyra asked.

    "What? No! I just had the impulse to try it," he said, smiling as the sugar was probably going straight to his brain.

    "Okay, well…" she said, "don't ever try to woo a girl with that."

    He chuckled. "Don't think I'll be worried about that any time soon."

    "I just…" she said, "that stuff's meant for bugs" she said, exasperated.

    "And?" He asked.

    "Fine, be that way," she said. Then her grin returned. "Second question! Why bugs? You know that they are some of the weakest-type pokemon, right? A single bird or fire pokemon and your team's in trouble. A single fire bird on the enemy team, and your team will be running for the hills," she said.

    "I've always had a thing for the weird. And the bugs," he said, "it wasn't ever about strategy or planning the perfect team for me."

    "Makes sense, but even so, why do you have two Leavanny? Surely you could trade one away and spec out into other bug types and keep your team more rounded," Lyra asked.

    "I was thinking about rounding the team out, actually, now that I have my first badge," he said. "But I actually got Leah and Fidget as rescues, strays caught outside Anville from the pokecenter. Leah had even saved me from a couple bullies. And she's the reason I'm out here with you, rather than in Anville, doing who-knows-what, maybe following after my dad," he said, staring into the red-hot embers of the dying fire. "He was never home, practically living along the rail lines. But he is living his dream now, and I'm living mine."

    Lyra was quiet. How long since she had talked to her own mother? A few months. Going out, socializing, even calling her mom. Just... talking to other people it had gotten hard for her.

    "One more question from me," he said. "Seriously though, what do you plan to do if you dig up volcarona's grave? Surely ho-oh's power isn't that literal," he asked.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 50 - Cathexis
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 50 - Cathexis ~~~​

    Cathexis [noun]: the concentration of energy on one particular idea, object, person, or pokemon.

    The term cathexis has classically been used in dubious psychoanalytical settings. Due to its dubious history, the term should be considered outdated. For some, it has shifted to becoming a reference to an exclusive bond between a human and a pokemon, to refer in particular to the resemblance a trainer begins to exhibit aspects of pokemon on their teams. See: Synchronization and Bond, for a more updated definition. In modern academic contexts, this phenomenon is known as synchronization.

    For a trainer to reach "cathexis" with a pokemon implies that their minds and bodies have adapted, in some form, to be reflective of that pokemon. Myths of trainers swimming hundreds of miles in cold weather, of those who can use aura to compete with mythical pokemon of old, of those who have gained ability to ascend to gods, are, of course suspect in nature—no human has been shown outperforming even the most basic evolutions of a pokemon in their base elements. A "fighting" human generally cannot compare to any but the sickest or youngest pokemon in their native elements. Despite this disparity, it is known that minor changes are granted to humans who train and bond with their pokemon.

    This manifests in many ways—slight aura use, resistance to reading minds, additional proprioception, somewhat better reaction times. Potentially dramatic weight gain and weight loss. The mechanisms and reasons for this are not known. Individuals who reach full cathexis with a single pokemon may have a hard time generalizing and caring for pokemon of other body styles. Cathexis is not known to extend lifespan or grant all but the most subtle of changes. Cathexis is often prioritized by trainers looking for some particular benefit, simply owning and caring for a pokemon is generally not enough to reach cathexis.

    Despite being a noun, cathexis is not a binary state of being. The effects of cathexis fade when pokemon are given away or the trainer ceases their training activity. Reaching "full" cathexis with bird, levitating or other pokemon does not, has not, and will not grant flight. Ghost trainers do not gain the ability to pass through walls, invisibility, and cannot commune with dead humans. There is no evidence that cathexis alters DNA. Cathexis, though causing some physical changes, does not decrease mortality rates, though it has been postulated this is because trainers reaching cathexis tend to overestimate their own physical abilities in the wild or while managing mass outbreaks.

    Once again, see: Synchronization and Bond, for full definition and discussion.

    ~~~​

    The portal had opened, and the distortion silently spewed forward. She'd pulled her jacket tight, her hands inside the ends of her jacket, stretching it taut. The creature—minitina, Looker's notes had labeled it—had followed in behind her, as she stepped in, leaving the moonlit world behind. Around her, the land was gray. It was not dark, it was not bright. The portal closed, the light of the world closing behind her. The feather shimmered, warped by the distortion and yet not reacting. Her hair floated up, pushing up against the band she'd worn to keep it out of her eyes.

    The creature—the one who would guide her to her target, turned in the air, swirling around her, practically giddy with joy. On her belt, were her three pokemon, as well as the empty master ball. She could feel the pull. The desire to use it—it called to another her, whispered of the possibilities—of the control, of the security, of the hope of the future. She had her hand on the ball. Her fingers brushed around it, circling. She had met Darkrai in the flesh, and refused the call then. She had her sights set on a larger, more powerful target. She took a step forward, towards the escort, the god's child. Her hand had twitched on her pokebelt, but once again, she resisted. The nightmare had kept his own word, and given her passage into giratina's realm. But what were promises to the gods? Still, she could keep hers.

    The path before her had warped, split, shifted, faded and at one point, cracked. But, as she had before, she continued her progress, moving through the shifting, silent void. She'd taken many steps. She could see footprints in the ground. A metal, aluminum case sat before her feet, fallen to the ground, turned on its side. A pack of masks and oxygen containers were strewn about. The escort was clearly aware that she had not enough time. The second time she'd been flung into a situation and been given gifts to guide her through. And yet, given the challenges she had to overcome, just to reach this point, she was wry. She could feel the boiling subthreads within, nascent though they were, spawning, threatening to incapacitate her in a land of nightmares and dreams more imaginary than the lands of distortion upon which she walked. She shoved them down. They could wait. Drops of black liquid formed into the air, before her, before rising up and boiling off.

    The girl would—and had— trimmed all she could. The creature who had opened the portal looked at her, its form shifting between that of a bug, and that of a miniature giratina. One finger, her right hand held the ball, not pulling it hard enough to detach. Her guide's body shifting, imitating Leah. Her body knelt down, her left hand sifting through the equipment strewn across the ground. She did not look up, breathing through the mask, which was fastened to her face, she picked up a small pair of oxygen masks, which were still full. She crossed onto many new landmasses, rotating at strange angles, and yet, as she walked, down was down and up was left. And right was behind. This latest mass, she brushed through boiling gobs of pink rising through the void, disappearing, running off into nothing, burning.

    The sound of a stream trickled, from the ceilingless void, she stood, a stream of water trickled down, stopping, then starting, then starting again. It would pool up, a little line would form to the edge, and some would fall off into the abyss. Other times, the stream would rise, water from the right side, fell to the left. She took a breath, in through her nose, her eyes closed. Her right hand and fingers moved, tapping over the four pokeballs on her belt. The escort's form imitated Leah's, the form of the bug, further mocking the one comfort from her dreams and nightmares. Her hand had twitched over the ball. She'd plucked it off her belt. She felt the call. She wanted to, it had practically called to her, as if she was empty, lesser without filling the center. One does not catch pokemon, unless you wish to use them. Her hand did not move. This was not giratina. And to falter here? A mocker to herself, and all the sacrifices she'd made on the journey to this point.

    Her hand twirled the ball around, before reattaching it to her belt. She could feel another pull, an anticipation, an eternal hunger of her own. She was closing in on her target. And this time, they would not escape. A foot stepped forward, then another. And as she walked, following the escort, the girl knew her destination. She would not stop, she could not. Not with the light of the feather reminding her of what she'd done, what path she'd taken. She paused. She checked the time left in the mask. She had two and a half hours. Her watch had already been set. She could not carry masks to last for days, and running would only burn through the masks faster. In thirty minutes, she would rest. She took the mask off, and put it into her bag. Three total masks. Cyrus was near.

    She followed the guide, who was standing staring at her from above, the wall had appeared from nowhere. She pulled out a shoe and stepped up, and walked up what had been a wall. The ground shifted, as if what was once the floor, became the new wall. The land of grass, as if following the new gravity, the remaining masks themselves fell off their container, onto the ground below her feet. It was not rock she stood, but nor was it metal or dirt. She followed the fake leavanny, who stepped further ahead, standing in the void, watching her progress.

    Her watch beeped. Seven hours had passed. Had it been that long? She didn't feel any different. But the mask was already on her head, and she was breathing. The other two were already gone, left in the abyss. Around her, she was on a small island, a pool of water before her. Her bottle of water was empty. She refilled it, a shadow lurked at the bottom. She continued her own journey. She remembered this pond. She'd once prayed at a lake just like this one, once she'd forgotten. As if her goal had been written into her soul. She'd question the decision another time. Like all other decisions she'd made over the last many years. She'd commit to this path. She would see it through.

    She continued following her escort. She pulled off her mask, and pulled another out of her bag. She paused. She'd just thrown them out. She checked her watch. It was counting down from thirty already. She breathed deep and took another step, deep into the abyss. Again, she felt the pull, her hand brushed up against her pokebelt, eying the fake leavanny in front of her. Once again, she resisted.

    Before her was a path. She stepped on it, and her vision expanded. Cyrus was standing there, on a pedestal, Giratina before him, Cyrus was confident. The man was talking. Before shaking his head. Shaking his fist at the god. Giratina had refused the man's request? She stepped forward. Cyrus pulled out a pokeball like hers. The beast had known. He threw his pokeball at the god of distortion, the pokeball spinning impotently in the air at the exact spot. The beast did know. The god had already disappeared before his fingers had let go of the ball. Would know. Had judged Cyrus to be unworthy?

    She was gasping for air. Her own muscles burned. Cyrus was panting. The Pressure of a god pressed down upon them, squeezing them, threatening to push the humans flat. And yet. And yet, the god saw fit to preserve the man's life? Cyrus fell to his knees before her as she approached. Here in the distortion, Cyrus was dead. Here in the distortion, he was alive. And yet, the man was anchored to the ground. Hundreds of Cyruses have thrown the ball, had bargained, time and again with the lord of gravity, the third force, the one that underpinned space and time. The one that ran the world of distortion. The man was dim. He should have been dead long, long ago. And yet, time had not yet passed for the man. As if—as if Giratina had held him there, frozen in his realm. Frozen in time, for one purpose.

    She smiled as she stood over the man. Cyrus was lying on the ground, as she took a deep breath into her mask. The beast had known. Her hair was longer. It was shorter. It was green. She wore a beanie in one, she wore a hat in another. In this one, she wore just a headband, she had given her beanie to another. The man, lying on the ground, coalesced, each vibrating afterimage fading into one. His eyes black and yellow, the pokeballs on his belt. She knew there was one truth, in a distorted, comical world where the air itself makes a mockery of those who breathe it.

    "I see you have come for me, child." The man said, breathing into a mask he'd pull from his pocket. He was alive. He was dead, he was poisoned. He was clean, in the world of gravity and distortion, he was successful, he was a failure, he was everything all at once. And yet.

    And yet. The woman was silent.

    Cyrus pulled up his wrist, his smile wry. "I knew you would. We had the best analysts, the best predictions. And now what? All my money. All my wealth. Everything I did. And for what?" he asked, placing his hand into his pocket.

    She remained silent. Her escort remained silent, fading into the background.

    "I suppose I am supposed to be dead soon. And yet," he said, "and yet here you are, standing above me." He coughed. "Pathetic. Betrayed by the god I'd thought understood me." He sat up. He put his hand to his belt. He did not expand his pokeballs as he pulled off his belt, no. He set his pokebelt on the ground. There would be no battle here. On the insane businessman's vest was a black and yellow pokeball, the iconic, emblazoned M drawing her attention.

    "You win, Dawn," Cyrus said. "I don't know what you did. I don't know what price you paid—" he said, staring into her eyes. "But it was not me, the god wanted. It never was me they called for." The man frowned, the white and blue of his eyes betraying their dismay. "Was I checkmated in the games of the gods?" the man asked.

    The girl smiled. "I win, Cyrus."

    "I suppose you do, Dawn. I suppose you do. You always won, you know," he said, staring at the feathers tied around her many necks. She picked up his belt, putting it into her pack. Another version of her threw them off in rage, screaming off into the abyss.

    "I know," she said. He pulled off his mask, before crossing his legs, throwing it off into the abyss, as his final admission of defeat. The pressure over her was bearing down. Her own legs wobbled, turning to jelly under the weight. He let out a puff of air, seemingly running out of things to say.

    "I've had a long wait for you to come, Dawn. A lot longer than normal," he said.

    "Sorry", she said, unapologetic. It had been shorter than normal, at least for her. She spoke through the oxygen mask, "where are the other master balls, Cyrus? You didn't just leave your plans up to some ancient red chains. You're not that dumb, are you? You paid Mars and Jupiter because they made contingencies after contingencies. Where are they?" she asked.

    "You always were clever," he said. "But even so. Team Galactic is not a wartime enterprise. We do not enable individuals to go to war. We have no other master balls, Dawn." He said. She dropped to the ground, not out of despair. Not because she believed him. But because her own legs could not stand. The man wheezed. "I wanted to craft a world without pain or hurt. Our efforts for clean energy, and conflict-free resources were, in fact, honest. I had only ever kept one master ball. Perhaps Mars or Jupiter have acquired another in my absence? Time does seem to flow differently here," he said.

    "You're a lying bastard," she said, the fury in her eyes, as she sent Pip out, who took a moment to reorient himself in the space. She pointed at Cyrus, who smirked.

    "I know," Cyrus said.

    "Ice Beam!" the girl cried, barely avoiding the desire to strangle the man herself, as her empoleon lit their little outcropping in frost. Picking up Cyrus' pokebelt, from her pack, she held it up. Her arms wobbled. She wobbled, even on the ground, Cyrus' masterball still floated in the air, before falling to the ground. That was it. The life she'd lived up to the last three years. It was over. The man was gone. She knelt down on an outcropping of grass, Pip running to her side as she planted her face into the grass, and sobbed, her own mind rippling, nearly tearing itself apart at the seams as the dams she'd built, boons she'd received slipped away.

    This part of her was numb, and yet, her face was wet. Her fourth pokeball was gone. She cried into the dirt. She'd thrown her own master ball? She cried for minutes, into the air and sky. She was before giratina. And yet, he was gone. She'd moved, she'd walked, her escort gone, she floated into the mist. She stumbled upon a ball with an "M" on it. It was hers. She'd forgotten?

    Dawn had forgotten. What had she forgotten? She asked. Her own hair had shifted black, her own skin turning gray as the cursed item did its work, the feather she wore glowing, as if to counteract her own death sentence. He offered her a wish. She had asked for his help. He'd accepted. She'd asked to prevent this from ever being able to happen in the first place. And he gave her the path. She screamed, a gnawing hunger, and the gnawing loneliness of an eternity and life alone ate away. The visions of a man in a tan coat, approaching her after she'd left the pokecenter, pulling her aside for the first time. And yet, the feather on her had glowed, as her skin and face and body rippled, as by all means the weight of a god killed her, and yet, the girl lived. Giratina had offered to give her a chance, the ball in her hand held not the entity's spawn. Not the prince who would ascend, but the king who had no throne.

    Her skin had shifted gray, the oxygen lost its favor, Dawn's mask fell off. She dropped it to the ground. She breathed in the air, felt the ripples, she sucked in the distortion, as if it was her food. Her heart had stuttered, the feather glowed, having consumed her body in a one-time fire. She stood up. She picked up the pokeball off the ground, her face turned to a grin. She felt inside where she needed to go. She was excited, because for once, she could stop a disease before it could spread.

    Her escort had returned, and had followed her to her destination. She stood up, she checked her body—she seemed fine. She sipped the nectar of the world for one last time, knowing it could be years before she partook of it again. A rend, a crack below glowed, the distortion world spewed forth, her limbs were strong now. She flexed, stood back, and jumped into the open chasm in the sky, the sheer pressure of the distortion of the world pushing her out, leaving giratina's child behind, the portal itself closing, Dawn fell to the ground of an old temple atop mount Coronet, the contents of her pack spilling to the ground, to the tune of a surprised shout of a pair of humans. The girl stood up. The air was thin here. Both were breathing heavy. She knew this place, but the memory was distant. The blonde man shouted, stomping his foot on the ground.

    "Who are you!?! Where is Giratina? What have yo—" he asked in anger as she stood up, her muscles no longer wobbling as she took a step forward. His face was wiped of all disdain as he stared into her eyes. The pair were supposedly in the middle of a battle? A pokemon was out, as she stepped forward. Drinking in deep the fading distortion that had spilled forward. She flexed her muscles. She felt strong. She wanted to roar, but a cough came out instead. A boy with blue hair and traditional sinnohan wear stood across, recalling his ghostly typhlosion as she fell to her knees, coughing, hacking her lungs out. The feather around her neck was gone, only a silver chain. She did not know why, but the last word she felt on her lips, fading memories, she remembered.

    She was Dawn. She had a god on her belt, and calamities to prevent.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 51 - Sheer Mountains
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 51 - Sheer Mountains ~~~​

    Alder arose from his campsite just outside the eastern desert, sitting along a stream. He'd left his team out of their pokeballs the entire night—he'd frequented the area when he was younger, twenty years ago, when he'd first found his larvesta and caught it. Landorus roamed these lands, and with his grandson camping with him and his star pokemon buried, Alder would not take risks. The pokemon in the area surrounding the desert had grown stronger since he'd been there. Local farmers just north of the desert must have been incidentally providing the pokemon an abundance of food.

    Druddigon looked Alder in his eyes, then took a stance, lying next to the boy, watching over, practically nursing the dragon egg Benga was curled around. Alder had picked up in the ruins, as he investigated the dreamyard, having heard reports of the explosions. When the striaton trio had arrived along with Doctor Fennel, he took his recuse, leaving it to them and the company that was running the operation to assess the damages. Holding the draconic egg in his hands as braviary flew them back to camp on that day, he'd made a realization—there was no one to leave his legacy to.

    At one point, he'd thought his daughter, Ana, would be a trainer, but she had found the trainer's life not to her liking. He had always respected that, as well as Ana's decision to settle down with her husband in a house outside White Forest. While they had never explicitly said he couldn't come see the boy, Alder had never been invited to their house. He'd had a sneaking suspicion about what they'd wanted for Benga, and had made a difficult, yet deliberate choice to respect it. He still knew Benga well, they didn't hide the boy away. Ana and Benga had both come to visit him when they had come to visit him in Castelia City.

    He'd respected his daughter's wishes, until a few weeks ago, that is. During their phone calls, Ana had always downplayed Benga's interest in being a trainer. But during vacations, the boy had always been awed by Alder's team—in particular his druddigon and volcarona, had constantly talked about being a trainer or gym leader one day, and said he'd wanted a dragon and volcarona of his own. Somehow, that enthusiasm had magically vanished, over the phone and in the presence of the boy's mom.

    So, dragon egg in hand, Alder walked up to their house, while Benga's father was still at work. He stepped up their small little path, onto their porch, and knocked on the door. "Grandpa!" Benga had shouted, as he answered the door, and the light in the boy's eyes and fire on his head practically glowing through the window. That had told the aging leader all he'd needed to know. Alder would, and was—going to ensure Benga knew how to treat pokemon right, not make mistakes that he had made when he was younger—but no amount of warning or pressure from either him or Ana could sway. The boy had said yes, before Alder could even finish the question. Benga's youthful fire relit his own.

    The boy's mother had wanted a "better", "less-lonesome" life for the kid, probably listening too much to old country singers. "Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be trainers" and similar trainer-blues. Benga deserved to be given a choice. And when she had come around the corner, to see Benga practically jumping, her own face had shown—Ana knew Benga had wanted to follow his grandfather's footsteps. Though, knowing Ana's trepidation around being a trainer, and the trainer's life, he had smiled when Benga's mother pulled from the closet a set of boxes—a bike, backpack, water filter, general supplies for being a trainer.

    He'd dealt with grief before. Alder was no stranger to loss, pain, or struggle. He was at the age where your friends began to disappear, one after another. But losing your best friend to a sickness that had never been seen before? Fate had taken a cruel turn on him, and with Benga's fire? He would not go out. Not without a fight. So, there he was, walking out to the stream, leaving Benga and druddigon resting with the dragon egg. For Benga, it was a mystery what would hatch, though Alder knew. Alder knelt over the stream scooping some water, rinsing his face. His team would forage and find food for themselves.

    Alder returned back to camp, pulling out the morning bell, braviary, bouffalant, escavalier, accelgor all returning from their own morning rituals. He smiled, glancing down at Benga, sleeping on his roll, snoozing the day away. Then banged on the bell as hard as he could.

    "Get up, boy!" He shouted, before bursting out into laughter as Benga went from sleeping to standing in the blink of an eye. They were in the lands where he'd first caught his own larvesta twenty years before, and he'd be damned if there weren't still a few nests lying around.

    ~~~​

    The scent of iron and salt driften in from the west, hints of it warning, crying for potential dangers. Lyra and Lanky were both asleep when Leaf and I awoke at our usual time, the campfire from the night before, having burned down, not but black surrounded by the brown and gray of the rocks they'd set in a circle. The beautifly, butterfree, and beedrill were already beginning to buzz, looking for their early morning nectar. I took a look over myself. My leafy battle-skirt had a few holes. I'd tanked a bit more than I thought from either the alakazam's explosions, or just scuffed up from my little skirmishing with Meg.

    Leaf was already on it, actually. He'd been doting on me since I'd nearly killed him with a solar beam. Should I probably have stopped him from doting on me? Yeah, I probably should have. But you know what? If I was going to continue to be the one front and center in these fights—dreadful though the idea was—I wasn't going to say no. I did still feel a bit empty, without Oust. And well, Meg was a bit too independent for me to really dote on, and I wasn't about to dote on Leaf. So, while Leaf offered me occasional leaves, I realized—the other leavanny and swadloon we'd met the other day was probably nearby.

    A branch cracked. Meg's head shot straight up, turning to face the oncomer, who'd arrived from the west, only a few trees to the left of where Leaf and I were resting in our own tree. She brayed, stomping on the ground. Virizion returned the noise, though he was much quieter, breathing hard. The fight he'd been in was bad. He was covered, his fur and face matted in black, he was bleeding, with a few puncture wounds along his side. Whatever it was that had done this to him, had lost, and he'd managed to drain some life from them, but it hadn't made up for what he'd lost. Despite his almost-broken state, the god stood tall. He'd been victorious, and was returning to the meadow to rest and lick his wounds.

    Lanky was already sitting up, rubbing his eyes, before sitting straight up, grabbing the pack that rested at his side on the ground. "Lyra!" he called, not-quite shouting, but loud enough I could hear without issue. He continued talking, and I lost track of everything else he was saying, the rest devolving into the un-mapped gibberish-speak. This area was filled with berries. He didn't look poisoned, but I hopped down from the tree anyway, preparing to search for berries. Lyra unzipped her tent, stepping out, observing it, before practically shouting at Lanky. "Holy Shit," or whatever.

    I held my mouth shut, as my vision threatened to go black. I was not going to panic. My mind opted, I was back at the gym, limping from a hard-won fight, limbs crushed and crumpled. I'd been taken to the pokecenter and healed. Then, I was back. I was burned, my antennae and dress burnt to ash, most of my leaves denatured or still smoking. I was back to the pokecenter. I was back on the floor of the gym, I was paralyzed against a yellow tarantula as they bore down on me, covering me in webs, spinning me, restricting my movement. Lanky had pulled out the spray bottle from the bag, the one he'd used on me, and was approaching the fighter god, who at first seemed about to push him back, before deciding to lie back down and let him approach. My own bodily fluid leaked out of my arm. Back to the pokecenter. I was crushed under the mass of a hulking steelix. Physically, I ventured forth into the buzzing of the beedrill and hum of the butterfree in the background, seeking for more bushes and berries. Body and mind in very different places, I had ventured out. Perhaps becoming the strongest wasn't the best plan.

    I'd returned, minutes later, after scrubbing through bush after bush looking for berries, spearing them onto my arms like a kebab, Leaf had taken to following me around again, keeping his eyes on the beedrill—who effectively ignored our presence—without trying to eat my berries, though he couldn't help but picking some of his own off the bushes. I still didn't know which berries were which, but I knew the cherry-like berries were the anti-poison ones, so I only picked one of those. I chose instead to pick these large, blue ones about the shape of particularly fat clementine or mandarin. The beedrill did draw near, while we were walking back, following the sugar that entered the air, but as I crossed the paths of trail, chunks of red and black strewn about, as if virizion had had to shake the remains of the dead body of his opponent off on his way back into the meadow. The smell of the blood gave even the bees pause. That, or the remains of the strange smell of whatever it was he'd fought.

    I looked back, to the west of the forest, following the trail and drops of red, but I was too short to see far. Wherever the fight had happened, it was far enough we could not hear. I was tempted to see what kind of battle could injure them so, but chose not to follow. If I was going to stay focused on the goal of getting stronger, it would be best not to encourage myself to continue to drift into nightmares, living, dead, real or fictional. I needed to carry the berries. I needed to return to Lyra and Lanky, back to safety. Leaf stuck close, following behind, as if I was being pursued. Other than the buzzing of the bees, there was no reason to suspect any threats. His attempts to dote on me though? Those, those I could accept without being too critical.

    When I arrived at the field, Virizion's bleeding had already stopped, and a few of the holes had filled in. He was still covered in blood, lying down, as Lanky and Lyra were packing up their tent. I walked up to him, and slid every berry off my arm, slightly shrugging as I did. Lyra paused her efforts watching me, before saying things to Lanky and continuing on with her tasks. Finally, getting the chance to observe the god, I realized—he was a lot shorter and smaller than I thought. Lying down, his head as high as mine. A leaf extended from his body, as he scooped up the small pile of berries and ate them. Without that feeling, the pressure of being judged, he was a lot less intimidating. He didn't vocalize at me. I had a hard time reading humans' faces. Reading virizions? Complete and total lost cause.

    The next thought, the one that came to mind—because of course it did, it always did—make something for him? Necklace? Bandages? Leaf-sticker? Each, different designs practically shoved themselves into my head. A star-shaped leaf-sticker, heart-shaped bandage, several leaves strung together in a circle. A shield of leaves. Nothing I could do would help the god, and I still felt bad about beaming him the day or so prior. Ugh, I thought, before getting to work. It was stupid, and it didn't contribute to having a laser-focused goal, but it just felt right. And hyper-focusing on one specific thing just, well, it just didn't feel that right, either.

    ~~~​

    A giant bird, shimmering in flames popped out of the ball in Lyras hand, and Leaf and I—we were both already gone, dashing for the treelines, not waiting for anyone to command us. I knew Lyra was strong. I even recognized the smell of her. I even knew the game. It was like meeting the grim reaper. Again. I didn't care whether the phoenix was a symbol of new life or not. Fucking no. I could fight a moth of fire. I could fight a bird. Heck, I could probably fight a bird made of steel. But no way, no how on this really, supernaturally green-and-purple earth, was I ever, ever going to fight a bird of fire.

    Lyra laughed as we had run off, away from terror incarnate. I don't care if their feathers shined in the ultraviolet spectrum—they did, and it was very pretty—but I was NOT about to associate with my natural, hated enemy. We ran out into the trees, the shade, under the bushes, hopefully out of sight. Sitting in my hole, I had to push out a pair of hiding, now startled, caterpie. THEY could be fire-bird-food. I… I wasn't about to get close. Lyra had hopped onto the bird's back, as Lanky approached our little hiding spot. He did well to hide himself from that—that thing. That monster.

    The bird took off, leaving us. "Leah!" he practically whispered, I think I heard him say "it's okay!" along with some other words, which presumably meant the bird was gone.

    The mountain, the damned mountain, had grown a thousand feet higher. I was prepared to climb. I had turned into a sheer cliff, and in one fell swoop, I was immediately defeated. I was not going to fuck around with birds and fire. Nope. No. Fucking. Way. Was I ever going to let that shit happen to me. Nope. Nope. Nope. The bird took off, immediately heading to the south east, flying low, just skimming the treeline above us, as if they were trying to avoid the main path—which, if I was a legendary demon bird from hell, I would want to avoid too much attention too. I was just glad Lyra didn't have an appetite for bugs. Bugs like me, that was.

    Sorry, little caterpie, I thought, watching them try to find a spot under a nearby bush, after glancing into the clearing, spotting the shimmering rainbow lights in the late morning sun, navigating as quickly as they could through the underbrush.

    With Lyra and her bird gone, Lanky called my name, and I took a peek out, from the south, I looked to the west- there was nothing. In the center, virizion still sat, resting in the sun. To the north and west, it was clear, save for a few bees that had seemingly caught wind of the berries. Virizion's head was turned toward me—Leaf and I hadn't hidden well. At all. There weren't any fires or anything still blazing, at least, so that was nice. Knowing there were none, I stepped out, joining up with lanky and walking back to virizion's side. He seemed fine. Lanky continued talking, whether to me, leaf, the air above, or to virizion, I knew not.

    Having packed up his sleeping roll, he knelt down in the meadow's grass, pulling out several of the paper packets of food. He dumped one onto the ground for Leaf, poured one into my mouth, and then opened the bag, dumping the berries on to the ground in front of virizion, their green-topped, V-shaped head dipping down as the berries seemingly lifted off the ground of their own accord. The menacing, dress-shitting panic and fear and anxiety was not present around this minor deity. I would lose, even then, in their weakened state. But I would probably not die, if I tried to poke the god. Virizion turned his head at me, his eyes staring right into mine.

    Lanky was surprised when I walked up to him, virizion staring me down as if I was about to take his food—Leaf could take the basket. I tapped my pokeball on Lanky's waist, sucked in a quick flash, senses immediately dulled as whatever happened to my body happened. It was a tall mountain to climb. I could take the pokeball. And find other gods to poke. Ones who's training regimens would probably be less likely to result in physical death, loss of limbs, et cetera, being eaten by flaming birds.

    ~~~​

    So how was the full moon, Cresselia?, I asked the moon goddess. It only made sense to be polite—I was going to be using her realm in order to train, after all.

    "It is well, Dreamer" Cresselia said, in her normal, formal tone.

    "I must confess," Cresselia added, "if you truly wish to train, my partner would be much more valuable—"

    "I'd rather not," I interrupted her.

    Though, with her stoic, unchanging expression, she was amused.

    "I understand," Cresselia said, "but this path is suboptimal for your go—"

    "I said it's fine," I told her, cutting myself off before I said anything I could potentially regret.

    "Confronting fears is integral to personal growth and ascension," Cresselia said.

    I GET it, CRESSELIA, I said internally—her head tweaked, twisting upside down as she stared into my eyes. This is her world, not mine, I was reminded, as little ripples of pink rose up to my feet, plucking the bottom of my legs. Her head stayed tweaked as she stared at me, her face upside down—was she smiling? Oh shit, she was smiling. And she had fangs.

    "I mean," I shivered.

    "Child," she said, her head continuing its twist, as her face turned right-side up, the twist in her neck, specs of black boiling up from underneath her.

    "Pay my husbands some respect," she demanded. I tried to take a step back as she approached, but whatever was in the pink ocean was holding me in place. "Because—" she said, pausing, her approach, as darkrai emerged from the liquid shadow. He reached his hand out to her, patting her on the back, as she unwound. "I have not the patience for those with your… current disposition. Will you hide away in this world forever, or face your fears?" Calming down in the presence of her… mate.

    Darkrai stood in front of us. "Pardon us," he said, not really looking at me or Cresselia. "I apologize, for we are late yet again, my dears. And please, dear Cress, this is the first true company we have had since that celebi."

    Lebi was here, I thought. Did I want to pursue them? Did I want to find out more of why Lebi had wanted me to get Dawn killed? Would they even know? And yet, Darkrai had shown up, attempted to save me then. I could at least ask why he'd shown up. Cresselia's neck was fully unwound, though the pink anchoring me into place continued to hold. What if I could enlist their help?

    "Dreamer, you do not want our help," Cresselia spoke, nuzzling into the side of the god of nightmares. "We cannot physically help you with what you want. You would die."

    Would I, though?

    No, that was a bad idea. Cresselia was probably-maybe already upset with me? If I was to challenge her.

    "It is true," Darkrai said, "that the chasm between us is one you cannot naturally cross." His body language, such that it was, had turned somewhat, if not entirely, somewhat thoughtful, without moving a single bit, still hugging to the neck of the moon goddess.

    "It is also true, however—and we are aware you did not ask this—" Darkrai said, "—you are not within cresselia's realm, but in mine."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 52 - Interlopers
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 52 - Interlopers ~~~​

    "It is also true, however—and we are aware you did not ask this—" Darkrai said, "—you are not within Cresselia's realm, but my own."

    It was as if the curtains were being yoinked off. Internally, I mean. Externally, I had expected the pink twilight to turn gray, but no, nothing changed. I was still held in place, the twilight sky remained. The pink—the pink of the ocean wasn't actually pink? I looked down—it wasn't pink. Well it was. It was, well, like a layer of pink oil atop an endless black depth that I could not see the bottom of if I'd tried. Not that I could see that far anyway. Do they make glasses for bugs?

    Before the two gods of dreams I stood, holding my position in front of Darkrai, doing my best to hold my mouth shut. Panicking in his realm—sinking meant consigning myself to a nightmare of some kind, assuming I wasn't already in one. So long as I wasn't up against a bird of fire, I could be okay. What had worked for me since day one—fighting through them, I had no reason to believe would stop working.

    These are the dream worlds. Anything goes here,     I thought to myself. Fighting my way through nightmares? Would it really continue to work? I wondered. My mouth inched open as the lunar duo stood across from me. Again, I clamped my mouth closed—it would do no good to panic. There was nowhere to run. So instead, I watched the lunar duo, as they floated in front of me, both surprisingly larger than I felt, Cresselia's little pink disks bobbing into and out of the ocean, picking up little waves and ripples of the liquid from these worlds of dreams. Physically, I was still in the pokeball. I was probably safe. The duo had remained silent, Darkrai's white hair lifting up into the air above, fading into whisps.

    What did I really want? Why had I forced myself here? To develop a plan to get stronger? Would I even keep to a plan if I made one? No, no, I wouldn't.

    Not without external help or motivation. I could make many, many plans, but only the short term ones ever panned out. A garden? With humans as customers? It would never, actually happen, I knew now. Had Cebi lied?

    Lebi had said—"You're being awful patient," I said, cutting off the thought.

    Cresselia glanced at Darkrai's face, who made no move. He continued standing there, above the little patch of black and pink oil, being menacing. She spoke up.

    "We have not but time here, Dreamer," Cresselia said.

    Great, I thought. This was some kind of test—wait. Darkrai had said that I was their "first proper guest" since a celebi visited. I shivered, the images of Lebi's body, the black, absorbed by the misdreavus.

    "You don't allow just anyone in here, do you? Why me?" I asked. Not that I used reason and thought in everything I did or wanted to do…

    If Cresselia could shrug, that's what she did. Darkrai spoke, this time. "Cresselia has taken a liking to you, as she finds you, and your… activities, interesting. Novel, even."

    "You are very… amusing, dreamer," Cress added.

    "Many are those whom attempt trespass upon our realms," Darkrai said, "they would see these oceans drained for their own uses, would force themselves into these tenebrous depths," he motioned with his hand, waving them out upon the waters. "For glimpses into pasts, presents, futures."

    "And yet," Cresselia said, "you are here, and seek not to drink. Why? How?" she asked. Good questions for me.

    "I have no idea," I said. "Because you let me in?" That seemed obvious, but it was the best I could come up with that didn't sound insulting. Surely, the duo weren't lonely?

    "Have either of you ever been on a roller coaster before?" I asked. Neither of them responded, just chose instead to stare at me. Cresselia's question seemed rhetorical, at least the how aspect. Unless there was some kind of perpetual psychic draw to these oceans? Were all species of all drawn into an ocean? No. Did they know I was human? They had to. They were gods, and Cresselia a psychic god. Less powerful psychics had read my mind. Cresselia had to know my dreams. Darkrai knew my nightmares. They continued awaiting a fuller explanation.

    "When you stand in front of a roller coaster," I began. I imagined myself, as a kid, a young thirteen year old girl, in line with my older brother and father, the first time I'd been to six flags. I was just then tall enough to go on "The Superman", a roller coaster that was supposed to take you up and then drop you.

    "You're in line for, I dunno, ten to thirty minutes, depending on how long it lasts. It's not like dreams, where you're either on the roller coaster or not. You stand there, in the line. It is there, in the open air. It demands you to challenge it," I said, my mind recalling my own trepidation as I stared at the hulking thing, taking deep breaths as I waited in the line, staring up above at something I'd only ever dreamt of. Brother had said it was a softer, shorter ride, one that a person with less lung capacity like me would have been able to handle.

    "But the challenge of the Titan is that it doesn't want to fight. It still asks you, 'Are you strong enough'? 'Are you healthy enough?', and if it's the first time, it towers over you. It keeps no secrets. It just is. You know it's there. And yet, the whole experience. Entering the park. Planning out the day, running around with family and friends, making friends at the park. It's so simple, and it looms over you, challenges you. All day long, the roller coasters each invite you, they say, 'this is what I am'. And then you get off the ride, you either throw up at the end, and say never again. Or it challenges you again. And you defeat it. Again. By riding them over and over again. And by the end, you're a bit older. You know a bit more about yourself, the risks and challenges you can take."

    Darkrai and Cress both just stared at me. When I was human, I had always wanted to go on roller coasters, but each time we went, I could only convince myself to get on the really, really big ones. For some reason, the smaller ones were the most terrifying. That day, I'd ridden "The Superman". Then, I wondered—would I, as I am, a leavanny, a bug-pokemon, allowed, or even able, to get on a roller coaster and ride it? How would the mechanics even work? I could see Darkrai in a train car of a coaster, though he might have trouble with how thin his waist was, the car might have issues holding him in, but if he had over-the-shoulder straps, I was sure it could work. Cresselia might have some issues, but really, it was mostly the two pink hula hoops that circle around her that would pose the most issues.

    They just continued to stare at me, bobbing in the supernatural stillness of the black liquid oceans. There was no end in either direction of the ocean. Could anyone drain these oceans dry? No. Not realistically, any—"No," Cresselia said. "No, we have not been on a 'roller coaster'," she said.

    I didn't move. It did make sense. She'd eaten candy after I'd asked her what her favorite was before. Though, it was hard to believe—they didn't just sit around in these spaces playing games with the other pokemon deities 24/7? It was, in a word, disappointing, in a perfect, boring, almost expected way. I hadn't lied in my answer. And she hadn't lied in hers. Darkrai and her stood across from me, standing just between Cress' pink ribbons, as she'd rotated them to allow him to draw close. They'd drifted back from when Cresselia had initially twisted her head at me. I held my spot in the vast ocean. Would they understand? I didn't want nightmares. That was a no thank you. What would my own nightmares consist of?

    I had been holding myself above the ocean of black—the same way I had originally, and yet apparently they had had enough of me, as Cresselia glanced at her counterpart, who nodded. The tenebrous oils of black began to boil under me. Oh I truly hoped they understood what I was trying to say. This time, As the water boiled up, it was Darkrai who broke the silence, speaking in his raspy voice, yet formal tone: "Farbeit from our fancies and interests to impede your efforts to train. Thus, I shall grant you this gift: entrance to my realm each night you sleep. Make of this gift what you will, dreamer, for you will be stronger." he finished, waving his hands, the ocean itself seemingly gaining a life of its own, seeking to drag me down. I, like earlier, tried to step forward and away—but I could not move. This… This was not my world. Nor did I actually want to be immersed in nightmares each night.

    Black filled my vision and Cresselai and Darkrai were gone. My last thought, leaving their presence was, I don't think they understood.

    ~~~​

    What did it mean when you found weaker beings amusing? I didn't see anything amusing about what I was doing or asking. It was a sadistic amusement, I decided. When I got up I was in an empty field of grass, it was late afternoon—the duo hadn't responded. I didn't understand! I'd asked a genuine question. Marking that one down as a mystery of the gods, I looked around, observing my environment. I didn't see Lanky or Leaf anywhere. The sky was gray. I didn't see the sun. But I was warm. A wave of fire around me erupted, and I heard screams from trees and bushes that hadn't been there before—my nest! It was burning! Those were swadlies and sewaddles! Before I had even thought about it, I ran to them, through the field of burning passing through the waves of flame.

    ~~~​

    I was flung out onto the grass. It was late evening. I felt cold. Lanky and Leaf both stood behind me, Leaf still attached to Lanky with the lead. Crackling fires and the cries of birds, the screams of my nest-mates echoing in my head. I could catch the smell of a nearby city, as well as the bugs and bees, though we were to the west of the city. Poor thing. There were no birds that I could see in the trees above us. We weren't in the soft meadow Lanky and Lyra had camped in. A blonde girl in a blue shirt and capris was resting, a krokorok before us. Lanky had met up with Sundresser while I'd been in the pokeball. Lyra hadn't returned.

    When nothing outright attacked me and no birds of fire marked the sky—I relaxed, dropped my arms, and just decided to lie down and rest, trying to avoid the lingering taste of smoke in the air. The crocodile-like pokemon eyed me, staying at its trainer's side in a kind of lock-step. Did Sundresser already get Lenora's badge? I didn't know. Did I really want to get stronger, if I was to sleep like that? What had Darkrai said? It was every night, while I slept?

    Lanky and sundresser both had their rolls out. Actually—I could smell another person, on top of the angry-smelling venipede, the scrafty, and my favorite scorpion all nearby. Virizion was near. He had been following us. Lanky released another pokeball, releasing a silcoon. Him getting some variety onto our fledgling team was slightly comforting, at least. I walked over to our trainer as he pulled out his backpack. I inspected my arms, the smell of smoke finally fading.

    I inspected my body. My leaves were in good shape. I was fine. My dress was fine. It was hard to move. Not unlike a few days ago, when I'd struggled to move, though not quite that exhausted. Lanky gave us three food as he held a light conversation with Sundresser, who occasionally took the opportunity to look and glance my way, especially when Lanky said my name. Small, simple words were beginning to click, even ones Lanky hadn't taught me, were occasionally registering. As if the missing puzzle pieces were filling themselves in as I'd slept. Was this a boon of Darkrai or Cresselia? I doubted it, though conversation in their dream realm might have helped? I wasn't about to say no. Lanky held two items in his hands, calling me forward, and we began to practice some more words, again. By the end, with a full belly and a piece of candy melting in my mouth, I was feeling alright.

    ~~~​

    Cresselia looked toward the leavanny, sinking into the black. She smiled. She loved the theatrics. The ploy of it all. Though, she did feel a little bad.

    "I do hope to see it again in my own realm, dear," she said.

    Darkrai rhasped, "And yet it wishes to be stronger."

    "That won't make it stronger the way it wants," she said.

    Darkrai didn't respond, holding his hand out around Cresselia's head. "I do so rarely get bugs. And I relish to see what becomes of one, given my blessing. The moon is yet strong for days more," Darkrai said. "Will you chase away my gift?"

    Cresselia huffed, dipping slightly more into the ocean of black. "We are both watching it. Nor are we the only ones. Until the dragons reawaken, it is honey for the interlopers."

    Darkrai pulled back, folding his dark, ethereal arms. Both their realms had agreed—the dragons would reawaken soon, and the land would be torn apart in their cyclic wars. Already, there was one soul, strong enough to bear the burden of one dragon, that they knew of. A second soul would make themselves known soon. The war would threaten to spill over, across all the lands and regions. If the worst came to pass—as always was a risk with each awakening—there would be no dreams of the inhabitants of the lands funneling to their realms. The oceans would dry, and they would be forced to move to another.

    "There is enough to resolve it all without our… assistance," Darkrai said. Cresselia's head turned to him, tilting. "No," he rhasped. "You wish to preserve its life?" He smiled.

    "Not merely preservation," Cresselia said, "I want to see more like it. And we cannot do so if it is drained each time it wakes. The interlopers will be drawn to it, and we will draw too much attention if we intervene any further. I am tired. Each cycle is the same. I wish for something new."

    "What, then, do you, or your others, propose?" Darkrai asked. Cresselia wasn't too interested in drawing much attention to themselves. They had been able to disguise their activities under the guise of others thus far. But those took both her and Darkrai months, often years to set the plans into motion, of dreams they'd both seen.

    "To handle each moment by their moment," Cresselia said.

    Darkrai's mouth was never visible, covered in complete black. But she could tell by his eyes and the way the ocean rippled—he was amused.

    "You want to ride a roller coaster, don't you?" he asked.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Aaaand with that, we're caught back up.

    Sorry! 😅

    Edit: Fixed the threadmarks situation! Once again, sorry lol
     
    Last edited:
    Once again, really good.
    I think I'm going to start posting the subtler things I see in chapters for posterity. So, with that in mind-

    Dawn used the Ho-oh feather to survive the distortion world, and in doing so, either became acclimatized to it, or she unlocked the ability to survive in it because of her bond with Giratina supplanting her connection with Alakazam. Also, she might have time-travelled. Additionally, we learned that her focus on Cyrus wasn't entirely natural, as the bit about dams breaking and the bit about prayers at a lake combine to make it seem like one of the lake spirits modded her mind at her request. This is made more apparent by the fact that the lake trio was just mentioned a bit ago to keep them on the reader's mind, which was done really well.

    Leah, meanwhile, has got a dose of humanity from Dawn, but it seems to be slowly wearing off. She might be able to maintain it by learning language, as the brain does think differently depending on the languages you know.

    Probably other things too, but the multiple chapters at once made it trickier to gather my thoughts.
     
    I woke up yesterday to discover 45 new notifications in my feed. Lotta reading to do.

    I was up-to-date before the threadmarks rearrangement. Does anyone remember where we were at before the update?
     
    Chapter 53 - Relic Castle
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 53 - Relic Castle ~~~​

    Why haven't trains or cars been more popular? Why are they fading out? They're the cause of many mass outbreaks. Most pokemon, usually the more common species, take large, deep noises and rumblings in both the air and the ground as a threat, and tend to flee from such en masse, as if they have some innate fear. Groudon's reign was so long, and so terrible, pokemon species across the board will flee at the ground's trembling.

    On the other hand, groudon seems to have taken the large and loud rumblings of boats and trains as a challenge. Between humanity's land-bound creations and Groudon, who wins? The answer is obvious. Thus, groudon sleeps.

    In our mountains, I am sure of it, rests a pokemon who, similarly, has slept for hundreds of years, of that, I am sure. With Cyrus' death confirmed, Jupiter, Mars and I will enact our plans and awaken heatran, the pokemon sleeping in the mountain, so it can challenge groudon directly and wipe the slate clean.

    - Charon, Team Galactic Commander​

    ~~~​

    "Whooo!" Benga shouted, as he fell to the floor of the temple entrance, released from braviary's claws right before they'd touched down. The kid jumped up in the air, throwing out a fist pump. "Flying is awesome!" he shouted, his voice echoing against the Relic Castle ruins in the empty land. It was still early morning and the desert was cool, though the sun was growing high. Alder tossed out a ball, releasing his accelgor. They'd left the rest at camp.

    "Take a drink of water now," he told his grandson, tossing Benga his bag. "It's dry and already warming up. If you have to take a piss, save it till the end. When we approach the nest," Alder had said, "you must be quiet and respectful." Together the pair entered the castle, accelgor following Benga, who followed behind Alder.

    At first, the temperature dropped when they first went underground and as they traversed the spacious hallways of the old labyrinthe. But when the temperature began to increase, Alder's boots crunching on shards of glass from one-molten sand, he knew they were near. The old leader turned down the hallway after Benga nodded in recognition, held out a flashlight. The crunch of glass in his shoes and the sweat on his forehead, despite being in the shade and underground told him everything he needed to know. Crunching his way forward toward the familiar warmth, he was beginning to feel the creaks in his bones.

    "Stay here," Alder said to accelgor, who dutifully took post just outside the doorway. Alder hitched the back up over his shoulder, sweeping his left hand over the lock, to make sure his pack was open. His heart pounded. He'd been there in the Relic Castle, decades before. That exact hallway, even. He'd gone in alone, long ago, and come out with a larvesta. What had seemed to him to be the runt of the nest. Volcarona lived a very, very long time, and while he would not have any idea how old the one in the nest-chamber would really be, the thought that there was a chance, however slim, that one of the adults would remember him, was exciting.

    Alder took another step forward, sand and grass crackling underfoot. Volcarona were an interesting, loving species, mostly protected by the sheer heat their bodies exuded. Most of their natural predators, including trainers, would be dissuaded from the hunt simply because of their hot temperatures. Sweat dripped off his forehead as he walked into the room. Benga made a step to follow, but he held up his hand, stopping his grandson from following. He pulled out a water bottle and took a sip. He could hear the soft chittering and skittering of little Larvae. No open flames or reflections of flames was a good sign.

    He waved the boy forward. Accelgor would have trouble in a fight with the moths, should they get angry, but would be able to at least help the boy escape, should things go south. The ceilings were too low to get much advantage from braviary's flying. Confidently, Alder stepped forward, followed by his grandson, as they delved a bit further in their chambers, leaving all behind except their bags with the prepared gifts shuffling around in the containers on their backs.

    The smell had drawn a resting volcarona forward, out of their nesting area, the sweltering heat increasing as they approached. Alder was still affected by the bond between himself and his volcarona, however, and Benga had not bonded with any pokemon. Not yet, anyway. They would have to be respectful, but fast, as the inner part of the castle baked like a huge oven. He wiped his face with his sleeve. The duo were covered in their traditional clothing, which did a good job of keeping the heat out and absorbing sweat.

    The volcarona stayed horizontal, crawling along the ground, allowing them to pass by peacefully. Alder smiled, putting his hand on Benga's head as they entered the nesting room. His watch beeped. Low Oxygen. High Carbon Monoxide. He frowned. There were only four nests, and each was small. Approaching one, he sat down, crossed his leg, and pulled out a piece of candy. They didn't have time to be too picky, unfortunately. And he wasn't about to risk Benga's life. They could come back another day.

    "Wow grandpa, it really likes me!" Benga said enthusiastically, across the sweltering room. Alder grinned ear to ear, keeping himself quiet to stop from scaring the larva. His own little group of larvesta filtered forward, the largest one of the pack inching forward toward the treat, before nibbling on it—"O-ow!" Benga said, as the larva tugged on the boy's hair, munching it.

    Alder just laughed, the warmth, the proximity lighting the fire inside, a larvesta of his own crawling on his lap. He had told himself that they would take the runts of the litter, but the small ones were far more timid, fleeing to the comfort of the pair of adults lazing in the other nests. Some rested on the ground, ambivalent of the trainers, another volcarona floating leisurely towards the pair, sparks dripping down from their fuzz. Alder pulled his hand back into his lap. The larvesta moved forward, timidly deciding to climb on to his lap. He repositioned the small firebug so it rested in his arm as he fed it. His watch beeped again. Time was up.

    "Looks like our partners have chosen," Alder said, standing up, bowing to the volcarona watching them. "Come boy, I'm not as young as I used to be. Let's leave our gifts, and go," he said, toppling his gift container over, pouring a pile of meat and fruit. His own larvesta squirmed at the sudden movement, and alder grabbed the bug, keeping it from falling off his arm, tapping it with a pokeball resting around his neck, walking briskly back towards accelgor, Benga, larvesta on head, followed, his own emptied container in-hand.

    Once his watch said the oxygen levels were better, he, accelgor, and Benga took a rest under the shade of a pillar in the afternoon sun. He placed a hand over his pounding heart, taking a massive swig of water. Benga was practically dancing, partner on his head, skin peeling from the oven's burns.

    "Take a drink, boy. Now!" He commanded, startling the twelve year old. "You're about to be thirteen. You WILL learn to treat both yourself and your pokemon right. Understand?" Alder demanded.

    Benga nodded, "yes, Grandpa!" he said, his hands vibrating as he pulled out the water bottle from his pack. Alder pulled out a potion he'd brought along.

    "You're gonna get burned a lot over the next few years kid. At least until you and your larvesta—"

    "Chip!" Benga said, glugging down the bottle of water as fast as he could as Alder sprayed the boy's burned hands.

    "Chip? It's already got a name, huh?" Alder asked. "Hold out your hand," Alder said.

    "Yeah, I gave it a name!" Benga said, holding his hand out, a shadow in the sky passed overhead. Alder squirted the bottle into Benga's hands.

    "Put 'er in the ball, braviary's coming down."

    But it was too late, the second shadow passed, and the larvesta caught the shadow, jumping off of Alder's head, scurrying for the castle's entrance.

    Benga was already running after it as Alder called after him: "Hurry! Follow it! Don't let it get away!"

    ~~~​

    Lyra yawned, risking pulling her arm from Ho-Oh's neck, flicking her watch, linked to her pokedex in her pack, checking their altitude and generalized location—fifteen thousand feet in the air, and out of the way of the few commercial jet lanes. Her watch switched screens, showing their approximate GPS location. They were two hundred miles to the southeast of shore. Ho-oh was taking its usual leisurely, yet conservative pattern. At most, the sight would be a story from a few sailors or blurry video shots. She turned the watch away, re-wrapping her hands around his neck.

    The air rushed through her hair, whipping it. Her cap stayed on tight, protecting her ears from the brunt of the roar of the air. She could feel their movement as the bird's wings tipped ever so slightly to turn to the west. Lyra had gained a general sense of the planet's magnetic north, and she had a general feeling of where she was, but those senses were not nearly as detailed or refined as either Ho-oh's or a GPSes. Not anywhere to the resolution of either the pokemon she currently rode or the GPS that came packed on her 'dex. The bird had known, like he always did, either via their mutual cathexis or the instincts and abilities of being a minor god, exactly where Lyra had wanted to go.

    She had been riding along his back, hands wrapped around Ho-oh's long neck, as she always did—no straps or safety mechanisms as the surprisingly muscular bird soared through the air. They always enjoyed their time, the two getting carried ever higher over the ocean as they hooked over the southwest of the massive peninsula that she'd been travelling along. It was freeing, every time, as she looked down from the atmosphere, the bird's rainbow feathers glinting in the light, casting against the clouds in the lower atmosphere. From thousands of feet above, they were lower than the flightpath of the large passenger and shipping planes, yet higher than the small personal planes.

    Resting, sharing in the bird's senses, sharing her desire and will, they were unified. Team Rocket and Lookers had all thought the ball, produced by Silph years ago, would be a way of bringing the gods to heel. In a way, they weren't that wrong. But, flying along the clouds, as she was wont to do, there was more to that story. It required a certain type of person, and even then, she'd nearly died. She couldn't help but think about Dawn. Hoped that somewhere, somehow, the troubled trainer was alive and well. Ho-oh's feather would likely have crumbled to dust. She had almost followed Dawn through the portal. But, looking at Meg, and remembering the pain of her longest partner. They'd both lost something that day. Lyra knew better now. She would help from the sidelines at most. The world could save itself.

    Dawn, what did you lose? Lyra shivered.

    Ho-oh was a strong bird, and had a very respectable speed. However, being a god, and rarely challenged, Lyra occasionally wondered if he had a lackadaisical sense of time and urgency, preferring long, winding and meandering flights that lasted for hours and days. Their wills were linked, yes, but she had no insight into his mind. And yet, he had somehow always managed to guess what she'd wanted, even if she didn't verbalize it. He had always agreed. She had, despite the physical changes and the dramatic, then-worrying weight loss, grown dramatically stronger than she was back then, at the top of the burning tower. They curved to the northwest, preparing to pass over Castelia and land in a quiet spot of the woods, trying to stay out of vision in the lower cloudfare. Ho-oh was not scared of his counters. He'd lived a long time. Kept warm by the bird's inner fire, Lyra closed her eyes, hands latched, trusting her partner to fly them to their destination.

    ~~~​

    When Lyra awoke, it was, to her surprise, on the grass outside a small cottage, nestled in the wood. Her wrists and fingers were red from how locked they were. And yet, she had been delivered and detached from Ho-oh. Without falling to her death or losing her bag. She smiled. Ho-oh had disappeared, not anywhere in her sight as she sat up, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. Lyra didn't see where the god had gone. Though it wasn't hard to predict what he was doing. He would be hungry, likely, after a fight. Lyra wasn't worried. He would return. Releasing Meg, Lyra pulled out a stick of food from her bag. Lyra had sent home all her other pokemon by then, and instructed the caretakers to release them all. As much as the fire burned within her, it wasn't a fire that had Lyra chasing after more championships.

    Meg, the only other partner pokemon Lyra had brought with her, stared into Lyra's eyes, softly braying as she munched on the nutri-bar. It wasn't much food, dense though it was in raw nutrients, Meg needed three or so before she was full. Meg was a big girl, and ate a lot, so it wouldn't be enough, but the meganium often preferred to forage on her own and soak in the sun for the rest of the calories she needed. Patting Meg on the head, and giving her a hug on the neck, Lyra turned north to the cabin in the thicket of woods, cracking her knuckles and doing some basic stretches. She had to be careful not to push too hard. She was flexible, but made sure to avoid certain twists.

    Lyra walked to the front door of the little cottage, stepping over a serious-looking package. It was obvious the man wasn't home, the windows had curtains drawn closed, though she could spot a tiny stove and tiny table where they parted. She knocked on the door, noting the bottom of a shovel to the left, past the window, around the corner of Alder's humble home. When no one answered, she turned her attention to the garden tool, taking a step back and then off the little concrete step that made for Alder's tiny porch.

    With one hand, she grabbed the shovel, tossing it up lightly. It was a good spade, with plenty of heft. Lyra left Meg as her pokemon continued to skim the nearby trees, foraging for the rest of her dinner. Guided by the pull of lingering desire and stolen future, she crossed a little thicket and grove of trees. A pile of recently-turned soil rose before her, a small pair of flowers growing out of the soft grave. Lyra hoped Alder wouldn't be home too soon, but she was strong. Ho-oh swooped down from above, crashing into a tree, toppling it to the ground, causing several pokemon to leave their hiding spots and rush out into the air and land. Ho-oh folded up his wings as she paced around the grave, her heart pounding with trepidation, sizing up the area she would have to dig up. It took a few moments for Lyra to collect herself.

    With a quick, directed stab, the shovel struck the dirt.

    ~~~​
     
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    • zoru22 said:
    At most, the sight would be a story from a few sailors or blurry video shots. She put the
    Click to expand...
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    Cut off paragraph there.
    zoru22 said:
    her GPS to know that they were Their
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    Didn't end sentence properly.

    Not too much to go over here. Just a bit of speculation. I think that the thing that Meg lost here was her bond, as we've seen that Lyra is connected to Ho-oh now, and that's gotta be pretty rough for her to watch. Similarly, I'm feeling a bit bad for Dawn's Alakazam now, as it looks like not only does it seem that Master balls overwhelm any other connections (might also be a legendary thing but I'm guessing it isn't based on the way that master balls have been talked about) but I think Dawn was starting to synchronize with Leah a bit too.
     
    Chapter 54 - Gifts
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    • ~~~ Chapter 54 - Gifts ~~~​

    The sky was a dark blue, little gold beams peeking out over the trees, the cool morning air rustling their leaves. Art rolled over in his bag, his eyes opening, his vision was blurry. He stretched his arms out, taking a good yawn. He smiled in the light of the early morning sun, before shooting straight up and glancing around. He wasn't in the gym. But Leah and Fidget were both being quiet. A moment of listening later, rustling alerted Arty on their location behind him—Fidget was wrestling with Kate's scrafty. One moment, they were eyeing each other down, walking in circles, a flash of movement later, scrafty was on the ground.

    The girl's skorupi—leaves in a ring around its tail and one glued unceremoniously onto its face with holes cut over it like a domino mask—watched alongside the venipede, who was not at all decorated from Leah's night-time doting. With a whump, Fidget was brought down to the ground. Fidget, undeterred, stood back up. The two continued to trade blows during their back and forth, the leavanny relying on Leah's leaf-armor coverings to absorb the hits. The last time Art saw the duo wrestle, back in Castelia gym a few days prior, it was, at best, one out of every four times that Fidget could gain a physical advantage—with a chirp, Fidget was back on the ground, this time getting pummeled as Kate's scrafty lost its patience.

    Artemus scrambled, reaching for Fidget's pokeball, but was too slow. Leah was already there, batting the pokemon away, forcing the fighter to eat dirt, standing over her fellow. He smiled, letting out a sigh. Leah didn't even glance at Fidget, who just seemed to stare at her as she watched the scrafty get up and run to its waking trainer, giving her a hug as if it had done nothing wrong, and moaning as if it was the one injured. Burgh rolled his eyes at the performance. Leah went back to the trees. Each step of hers was stiff.

    The silcoon was resting by his side, not moving at all from where Burgh had let it out the night before, though he smiled, as it too, had a leaf on top. He put his hand on the cocoon pokemon, feeling its prickly, sticky cocoon, the soft body wiggling under the surprise touch. It would be a while before it would evolve and he could really train it. Burgh got up, rolling up his sleeping bag. Leah sat on the ground under a tree, unnatural stillness, as if sitting in a daze. He frowned, pulling out the bottle of elixir and a potion that Lyra had left them with.

    Walking over to Leah, he gave her a good spray of the elixir, then, gently pushing the potion into her mouth, gave her a good dose of that as well. It took a moment, but Leah was back in action. He'd have to take her to get checked at the pokecenter in Striaton city. It would be quite the story to tell the nurse he'd had to use a quarter of the bottle of elixir on Virizion.

    "Morning, Arty," Kate said, drawing both him and Leah from their thoughts. She sat up, still in her sleeping bag, hugging and patting her scrafty.

    "Morning, Kate" he said, pulling up his backpack, opening the zippers, grabbing packs of their dense breakfast meals. Kate does the same, calling her pokemon to her, as Leah and Fidget both gather around to eat.

    "Here you go, kids," Kate says, feeding her team, Leah's antennae twitching at each word. Burgh tears open the two bags of berries, dumping Fidget's into his mouth, Leah swiping hers, instead choosing to spear them. He smiled. Their pokemon attended to, the trainers picking up their stuff in silence. Burgh checked his phone. They were an hour hike from the official road, and a three hour bike ride from there to Striaton, with scheduled meetings with one of the gym leaders there for that afternoon and the next morning. Fidget still needed more practice, and he was worried about being stuck in the gym for too long.

    Learning that the swadloon had been used for Dawn's psychic practice made his stomach churn in worry. He had to get them back from the professor. He pushed his hair back, feeling the grease. He hadn't had a shower in a while. He would have to see if the gym would let him use theirs, even if he wasn't a member.

    "Leah!" Kate called out, drawing his pokemon's attention. Her scrafty ran away as Leah approached, his body conveying a feeling of complete betrayal.

    "Stop being so dramatic!", she laughed. Kate held no berry in her hands, but asked: "Oran? Or Pecha?", moving her empty hands up and down, just like he had been doing at Lyra's behest. He raised his brow as Leah chose the oran berry. For a moment of doubt, he wondered if she actually was learning the words, as oran, while full of nutrients, assisting healing and such, were not as sugar-dense as pechas, which helped the body push out and process toxins. Leah saw the dried berry as Kate pulled it out of her bag. She tapped it with her antennae, then speared it with her leafblade, before shoving it into her mouth.

    He frowned further. She's still not feeling well? he thought. Then a follow-up thought struck him. She knows what an Oran berry does? No, he shook his head. Of course she knows what an Oran berry was. She had grown and lived in the wild already for years probably. There was nothing strange about a pokemon learning on and relying on their ability to forage. No, she really wasn't feeling well. Which meant that they needed to get to Striaton and have Leah looked over again.

    "You know Kate," he said, "I think I'm going to ride the bike through the trails. Leah's definitely not feeling well."

    "Because Leah chose the Oran berry?" she asked.

    "Yeah," he said, "As peculiar as she is, I've never seen her choose something that wasn't sweet, and I've already dosed her with both a potion and elixir today."

    Leah's antennae were twitching with each word. Was she still moving slower than usual? Drowned in anxiety? She felt well enough to bat away Kate's scrafty. He frowned, hoping it wasn't anything critical. Pulling out his bike.

    "All right then," Kate said, her grin turning mischievous as she looks at the impatient fighter and her venipede, "I'm going to work with scrafty and veni to see if we can improve their manners, I'll see be up to Striaton tonight," she said. He nods to his friend, before pulling out his bike.

    "Pokeball?" he asked, hiding his belt; pokemon were smart, and could tell a lot just from body language—even if they weren't all able to learn what humans were saying. "Or basket?" he asked, motioning with each hand both times. Leah pauses for a moment, and as he was about to repeat his question, she tapped the hand which meant basket. Burgh smiled, recalling Fidget and the silcoon to their respective pokeballs. He picked Leah up, setting her in the bike basket.

    Leah, sitting in her basket, stared at him as he popped a piece of the hard candy into his mouth, savoring it, before realizing his mistake, tossing one to her. He only had a couple left. Kicking up the bike stand, they departed to Striaton City Pokecenter, riding over the rough trail which would lead them to the road, every so often ringing the bell to make sure that pokemon on the trail wouldn't be run over.

    ~~~​

    Several hours later, under the noon-day sun, we pulled in front of Striaton city's pokecenter. The whole bike lurched as we came to a stop. I wasn't super excited at the prospect of, well, more fluorescent lights and tiled walls. I reached out my arm, and Lanky grabbed the flat of my blade as he lifted me up and out. I twitched, as the scents finally settled, now that we were sitting still. I could hear humans talking, not just Lanky—or Kate, I had learned her name was. I was right—I was picking up words. But still didn't know what to think about it. I had tried. And failed, mind, to learn languages in my past life.

    This didn't feel right. Just a couple words and it would click? No. Was it a gift that all pokemon had? Just learn a few words and all of a sudden you get the whole kit and kaboodle? No. Alakazam never even tried to mind-speak with me. Nor did the professor's alien pokemon, or his daughter's musharna. I had been right. About something. I wasn't sure what it was. Quite yet.

    But my mind was slowly filling in details—I was learning pokemon's names and species. They were coming to me, even ones I couldn't remember. For example, combee? We saw a pair of combee on the bike ride. But I didn't remember the honeybee-like pokemon at all from my time playing the games. I had to be doing something right. Right? I decided, standing tall. Or else why would these things happen? Why would I be paired up with Burgh? I was destined… to be… a gym leader's star pokemon… I took a breath.

    No, I thought. I have agency. I had agency, right? Did I really? Lanky picked me up, after putting the bike into his backpack, cooing at me, talking about how Striaton lets pokemon off leashes but not out of pokeball range yadda yadda, tapping my head. His light brown hair was getting long, I noted, as he sauntered through the front door. No, I concluded. As long as I was with Lanky. As long as I was going to be subject to pokeballs, I had traded my agency away. Or rather, I had made my choice, and now I'd made my commitment. I wanted to be near humans. Pokemon around humans were fighters. I would fight. I was already fighting. In the last night's dreams, I was battling for my life. Thanks, Darkrai.

    "Welcome to the Striaton City Pokecenter," the nurse had said, as Lanky set me on the countertop. I twitched, still not used to their sounds actually mapping to words. I had tried learning Spanish, in highschool, as a human. I had given it up, because it was too hard. Yeah, human Leah was a wimp in more ways than just ones related to her breathing issues.

    "Leah's been moving slow in the mornings," Lanky began to say, then added, "I think she's sick or might have some parasites hitchhiking in her root structures, stealing her chlorophyll," he said.

    That caught my attention. Parasites? Pokemon diseases? I mean, of course, it would make sense. There was PokeRus in the games, and I was vaccinated from something back in the professor's labs. My body didn't shiver, though my human mind was reminded of the thoughts of pesticides. Or herbicides. Poisons! I cried out, begging my pokemon-fear to kick in. There was a dull, mute ignorance, though, the image of several dead leavanny and other bugs managed to kick something into gear.

    "Calm down dear, there's no one to fight here," the nurse said, carting me off into the back room. Oh. I thought to myself. I would need to have to hope I never run into bug poison.

    "Quick Scans, parasite checks, history checks. Trainer says it's been having issues for about two weeks now," the nurse said, dictating into their microphone/tablet. Internally, I would have groaned if I could have, sitting down on the aluminum-covered countertop that seemed to come standard-issue. I was starting to hate the smell of aluminum as much as the existence of fluorescent lights. A robotic arm came down from the ceiling.

    "Leah dear," the nurse said, catching my attention. "Don't panic please, we need your arms held out straight." She approached me before lightly grabbing my leaf blades and pulling them out to the sides.

    "That's it, please hold please please please!" The nurse said, practically stuttering in nervousness. I held them in place as much as I could as they pressed a button, the robot swiveling around, taking quick pictures of my stick-thin arms.

    "Excellent!" she said, coming closer to me again. I pulled my arms back to their more natural, half open, half-collapsed positions.

    "Legs please!" she said, but before I could move, I let out a chirp, as she stuck me on my back. With some adjustments and awkward positions, the camera took their pictures, and the nurse wiped their brow.

    "Done," she said, letting out a sigh. "You're the most patient Leavanny we've had!" the nurse said. I didn't know what to say, but I gave them a courteous bow. She just laughed at my demonstration, followed by a cutesie exclamation. "Haven't you been taught well!" she said before pressing a button, and a sweet, sweet smell entered the exam room. She tossed me a candy, and I just couldn't say no. Look, don't get me wrong—having this particular superpower did give me hope for say, talking to other pokemon—but just because I could magically-fucking understand human language doesn't mean I wanted to talk back. Not until I knew for sure just how far out of the norm I was, at least.

    The nurse picked me up, setting me upright, the cold surface of the cart making me reshuffle so my leaf battle skirt was in-between myself and the cart's top. All in all, this trip to the pokecenter was short and uneventful for me, which was nice. The nurse wheeled me out, helped me hop down onto the tiled floor, and with only a few slips, did I make my way out in front of the reception counter, where Lanky stood, and I could leverage his pant-leg for balance, as I watched various humans going about. The nurse told Lanky that everything was fine. That I didn't have any parasites, so that was nice. Lanky's face as we left the pokecenter was disappointed.

    He stared down at me, setting me on his bike, taking us over to a massive park where pokemon were running around with their trainers, with some benches and fountains. I watched as blurry people thousands of feet away played frisbee with their rockruffs and lillipups. Lanky released Leaf and the silcoon, packing up his bike. I decided to sit on the bench with him and just soak in the suns, drifting in and out of sleep, every so often being awoken by the stray shout or bark. Leaf had seen the pokemon playing, and well, the number of people either scared him, or overstimulated his vision, because with no goading by either me nor Lanky, Leaf—actually, Lanky was calling him Fidget, and though I wasn't about to switch names for the bugger right away, I wasn't about to try and correct our trainer—Leaf stayed by us, near the benches, instead choosing to stay in Lanky's sight as we relaxed on the pokepark, the drum of a fountain in front of us acting as decent white noise, lulling me in and out of torpor. Leaf was drawn to the sight of the fountain, shadows of a few fish-types swimming about inside, though I wasn't curious enough to get close for sure, my nest-mate had no such compunctions.

    After some time soaking in the sun, and Leaf poking and splashing at the water, Lanky put away his phone and pokedex, right as Leaf was sprayed in the face by a soft stream of water, knocking him back.

    "Fidget!" Lanky said, his tone a bemused kind of stern. "Don't fall in there, or you're fish food!" I looked at Lanky's face, and was promptly reminded of the ocean dive I had almost taken. Best not to fall into large bodies of water, but surely the fish in the fountain weren't that big? I hopped off the bench, walked forward, and took a look at the various fishes. The fountain was a few feet deep. I probably couldn't touch the bottom, but Leaf, a few inches taller than me, probably could. Small, round blue pokemon with surprisingly large faces were swimming about. Leaf walked up to me, and a pair of fish, with long top and bottom fins drew close to us, eying us with curiosity. They were the ones that cast the big shadows. They were tall, but their actual bodies and mouths were small, though they were… well, they were quite fat. Someone was overfeeding them, that was for sure. That was in the fountain were tympole and remoraid. I clicked, returning to the bench, satisfied that Lanky was wrong. Nothing in the fountain even registered as a threat!

    ~~~​

    Benga, and Alder made their trek across the desert back to base-camp, braviary circling above, scaring away any would-be predators. They could have flown back. And they did for short hops, so they wouldn't wind up camping all night; they hadn't brought enough water for an extended trek, but Benga needed to get a taste of the desert sun, to learn a little bit about what he was signing up for, by becoming a trainer like his grandfather. It also gave Alder enough time to lecture the boy on the basics of training a larva and treating pokemon right.

    Larvesta weren't the smartest pokemon of the bugs, and had an extended larva stage. And their bodies were just learning to put out heat, and would need special training to learn to control it. Benga, despite his excitement and to his credit, listened, enrapt as his grandfather parted with as much of the early training knowledge as he could. Wrapped up and protected from the worst of the heat in their summer clothes, their newly-caught larvesta safe in their pokeballs, accelgor protected from the heat, safe in his.

    Alder breathed a sigh of relief as they returned to camp, when he saw that druddigon was undisturbed and protecting the dragon egg. Alder released accelgor, leaving the pokemon to forage for its own food. Druddigon passively eyed them as they dropped their bags and pokeballs, preparing to go to the stream to wash off and grab a drink.

    "Did your mother or father teach you to swim?" Alder asked the boy.

    "Yeah! Mom always said I would need to know how to!" Benga exclaimed with his usual hyper-enthusiasm. The gym leader smiled.

    "All right then," Alder had told him, "Sounds like you're ready, Benga!" His grandson beamed at the affirmation.

    "Whoo! Ready to learn to train!" Benga said, practically dancing as he ran off to the creek. Alder just smiled, hanging back and letting the kid have some personal time. He threw down a blanket, pulling out of the bag some food he'd packed, munching on it, when he spotted under his druddigon's tail wasn't just a single egg. Curious, and concerned, Alder approached. Druddigon eyed Alder, and for a split second, the leader thought he would need to use his pokeball, but the fight left the pokemon's eyes, and it let him approach. The egg was warm to the touch, and soft. Like a Larvesta egg. Concerned, Alder looked around his camp for signs of the intruder. Whoever it had been had convinced the dragon they were no threat. Alder looked at the small bag they'd left behind, when druddigon growled. Attached to the pokemon's claw was a piece of paper. A note.

    Alder ripped it off the dragons' claw, pulling it to his face.

    Dear Alder,

    As members of Unova, we wished to express our gratitude for all the years you have been a gym leader and guided the league. We realize there is a dwindling population of volcarona in the region, and so the loss of your famed companion was a large hit to the population of the species. In coordination with scientists from the Aether group, and Unova region's top scientists, we present this gift.

    As you are aware, other regions have been known to bring fossils back from the dead. We asked: what about using this technology for the preservation of a species? This is the egg of a volcarona, using the best DNA splicing and genetic technology available. This egg will hatch shortly, and will grow quickly into a formidable ally. Once again, we hope you accept it, and it will be both useful to you and assist in continuing its species' propagation. One day, we hope to use this technology for the restoration of all endangered and threatened pokemon species to their former populations.

    - P1 Research Group​

    Alder frowned, then crumpled the paper up and had druddigon burn it with some light application of dragon breath. Gingerly picking the egg up, feeling the larva squirm inside, his laugh was wry.
     
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    • Chapter 55 - Date Night
  • Threadmarks
    • ~~~ Chapter 55 - Date Night ~~~​

    Leaf got bored with the fountain, turning and looking out over the park, watching a couple play with their rockruff and lycanroc. Lanky and I both watched him, Lanky occasionally glancing down between his phone and pokedex. Leaf was standing stock-still when the rockruff broke from the couple. We had the advantage of the noon-day sun, so I wasn't worried about Leaf eating the dog's tackle. Before the pup could overcommit, it was called back by their owners. For a split second, the young, idiotic dog seemed to not register the call.

    In preparation for a fight with not just the pup, but the following lycanroc, I let the mana I was using to practice with dissipate. I hopped off the bench under the extra energy of the afternoon sun. The pup curved their trajectory, glanced back at us, before finishing its 180 and proceeded to run back to its owners. Disaster averted, I relaxed, hopped back up as Lanky sighed, Leaf regained motion, deciding not to stare too close at the people enjoying the park. Leaf came to a stop in front and below me, staring up at me as I stood above him from my perch on the bench.

    Meditation and mana practice canceled, I faced a bored Leaf. Hopping down from the bench, I decided to see how strong he was getting. We exchanged antennae taps and scents, before he took the initiative to try and push me down. Our blades clashed. I was pushing down on him, and he was struggling to resist. Unfortunately for me, Leaf was easily a good six inches taller than I, which meant that he had leverage working for him.

    By comparison, l only had raw power, likely by virtue of being slightly older and getting into more difficult fights. I tried to push him down, and right when I thought Leaf would buckle, he clicked, then flipped his blades, sandwiching my two blades between his, pulling me to him, "Eeen!" I squeaked out, surprised as I lost my footing and he lifted me up into the air. For a moment, my legs dangled, held up by Leaf using his barbs and flat pressure to keep me from twisting my blades out of his grip.

    Lanky laughed. Leaf held me up as I wiggled, trying to free myself without breaking up my leaf-blades once again. It was a moment of mildly-aggressive antennae taps between us, before he realized what was good for his health, setting me down on the ground. Leaf took a hop back away from me. To tell the truth, I wanted to be upset—that he would break the rules of engagement like that. But at the same time, he deserved better than that.

    Lifting me off the ground was not just creative. It was the right thing to do, since it removed any leverage that I had. Once I was in the air, my raw power didn't matter, since he had all the leverage. I could push on him, but that would just push my body further away. Once my legs were off the ground, I had lost. I clicked, annoyed. But at least a little proud. With Lanky still watching us from his bench, I decided to give Leaf another little scuffle-session.

    We locked arms again, and right when he tried the same trick, I rotated my blades to try and intercept them and stop him from pressing mine together like a sandwich. I had limited success with it, actually. His blade arms were longer than mine, and so he simply had leverage I did not. I still managed to get one arm out from the squeeze at the last second by pulling one leaf-blade back right when he managed to out-leverage my rotation. Still, with one arm between two of his, and not wanting to cause any actual damage, I was stuck. Except for one thing. Our battle-skirts would get in the way, so it was a bit of a hail mary.

    I snapped my free right arm in between his arm joints, forcing him to pull me closer before Leaf could start to lift me up a second time. Though yanked forward, this had me in a bit of a bind, since now he had both my arms clamped. I kicked a leg out, trying to hook his and bring him down, but was buffeted by both my battle-dress and his. We exchanged taps of antennae and our little pheromone signals. I wasn't ready to yield yet, even despite his clear practice with this move.

    Despite having my arms locked down, I still had one last trick I wanted to go for. I pulled my leg out and around, pushing back my dress before hooking my around him. Leaf chirped in surprise, but decided to fall over onto the concrete, me still slightly in the air. I tried to pull my left arm out of his flat pressure-lock, but Leaf held firm. We continued tapping each other with our antennae. He sensed my growing annoyance, and let go. I fell to the ground and rolled over to face the sky.

    I didn't want to call the last fight a loss, but the taste on my antennae was a tad bitter. I still had raw strength over Leaf, that much I knew. But my fights had, up to that point, save a couple training sessions, been rather life-or-death. And Leaf had just been playing. Now I knew why sundresser—I mean Kate—'s scrafty had become frustrated. Leaf's shadow stood over me, blocking the sun.

    The bugger was constantly, deliberately practicing. Playing, getting better in honorable fights and scuffles. In comparison, my practice… was literally nightmares and plans to one-shot all opponents. The prior night's dreams—images of fire and screams of the nest of bugs I never knew as a flock of birds dove from above as I defended—wasn't going to help with these kinds of drawn out, more friendly skirmishes. Leaf's arm-blade was stuck outward, the barbs on his arm sticking out. I held out my left arm and let him pull me up.

    "Ready to go?" Lanky asked. "Dinner appointment at the gym in two hours, and we should probably see if we can clean up first." He was smiling.

    I paused. Gym dinner appointment? Oh no, I thought. I remembered these guys. Lanky looked us over. Would Leaf know what to do when he didn't have a type advantage? Or for moves that used pokemon magic? No, that was where Lanky's study and knowledge would have to come in. He would help Leaf plug those gaps. Seeing the power of the solar beam outside of the nightmares would be the next step. Lanky held out his hands.

    "Pokeball? Or Basket?" he asked. I chose the basket. What else would I choose? Lanky pulled out the bike, and recalled Leaf and the silcoon into their pokeballs. With a nice hop, I jumped from the bench onto the basket, and off we went to the gym. It was, at once, both not what I expected and exactly what I expected. I still couldn't read, but three red letters, and the little outstretched awning from the classic automatic sliding doors told me all that I needed to know.

    Lanky set me onto the ground, and a man with blue hair greeted us at the entrance. "Welcome to the Striaton Gym! You must be, let's see… Artemus?" the man asked, smiling, dressed in a waiter's uniform—Wait. Artemus was his real name? The waiter continued, "My name is Cress, and I will be your guide tonight."

    Lanky nodded. "Thank you, and it is nice to meet you, Cress," he said. "We're uh, we're a bit early. I hoped to use the facility's showers to clean up first."

    "Yes! Yes! Of course, of course, Artemus,'' the waiter said.

    Putting the puzzle pieces of language together was a mistake, I thought.

    "There is a second person listed on your dinner reservation, beside your pokemon. Kate. Will she be arriving for dinner and a battle as well?" Cress asked.

    I looked into the deeper gym as Lanky and Cress continued to talk. As far as I could tell, it just looked like a regular restaurant. Though the music was softer, more of a lull. And the temperature didn't seem too cold, unlike the old ones from when I was human.

    "Come this way then," Cress said, guiding us off of the carpet of the entrance to the dining area or gym. The restaurant already lost a star in my books—the gym floor was tile, though they regained a half-star because the lights were not a bright fluorescent, instead choosing moody, warm colors for their lights. We stopped in front of a T-section hall, the moody lights turning fluorescent behind a pair of doors. They lost a quarter star.

    Cress, our waiter, not Cresselia, the goddess, spoke again, pointing. "The locker room is down this hall and to the left. Pokemon are welcome through this establishment, so long as they are within pokeball range. If you wish to keep your pokemon outside of their pokeball, we have a care area for those that will not be at the dinner table tonight, though we do staff a pokemon care expert, we do ask for an upfront payment."

    I stared down the hallway, then checked Lanky's bag. My shoes were still hanging off the back. They were quite dry by now, though covered in dirt, their purple still sparkled in my eyes.

    "Uh, thank you. I don't think that will be needed. Will I be able to get a separate table for my pair of leavanny?" Lanky asked, catching my attention.

    "Yes! Gym challengers and their pokemon will have a seating area to themselves, away from the crowd! Pokemon outside the care area and outside the battle arena will need to stay within pokeball recall range, of course."

    Lanky smiled, then looked down at me. "That's all then, then thank you" he said, and we trekked down the hall, my legs slipping ever so slightly between the steps. Lanky picked up a key that the waiter had apparently given him, and stuffed his things into it. Then looked down at me.

    "If you pop open a single locker, I swear," he said, threatening me as he pulled off his belt and shirt, setting them into the locker. I found other things to look at.

    "I don't know if you can understand me," he said, a ziiip sounding as he talked, "but seriously! If we have a scene here…" He trailed off, his clothes flumping as he tossed them into the locker, shuffling a few things around I was NOT going to watch. Instead, I focused on the smell and sat down on the bench.

    Or what, Lanky?!? Or what?!?, I thought. Not that I had a hard time imagining missing out on dinner, stuck in a pokeball while Leaf ate. That threat, implied, was enough. Not that I needed a whole lot of coaxing. I pulled my headdress over my eyes, using the slits in the makeshift helmet to reduce the pain of the blinding blue light coming from the ceiling.

    "Good," he said, "just, stay there please. I'll be right back from the shower and we'll have dinner. We'll be out and eating dinner before you know it." Lanky said, repeating himself while I sat on the bench, staring at the concrete wall. Was I that big of a trouble maker? I didn't smell any cherry conditioner in the air, at least. Or even dried fruits outside of the locker. I used the time to try and trawl my human memories of playing pokemon black. Lanky's phone beeped.

    What I remembered about the gym? Not a whole lot, really, though it was weird. Like it was still weird here, with a cafe/restaurant setup and people eating would likely have been able to watch us battle. I had gone with the snivy starter. Of course the game would pit me against the fire guy. But that was all I could remember. And my memories and dreams from my time of Cress's dream had only shown me in the museum of Lenora's gym. Then, this gym would prove to be a quick experience, right?

    My eyes adjusted from the filtered light, I took the time to skim over my dress. It was in good shape, overall. A little scuffed from our wrestling, but holding up well. The leaves had plenty of time to settle and integrate, thickening up and gaining a consistency similar to leather. They did a good job resisting tears, slices and scuffs. An actual stab, or another leavanny's bite though, I would have to hope I could keep anything with major fangs away. The thought of a similar pokemon with even more height difference? Or extra-large talons? No thank you, I thought, my antennae working overtime to push water droplets collecting from the steam.

    Lanky's shower was pretty quick, and after dressing in a newer, cleaner, more synthetic (and less natural-smelling) pair of clothes, he grabbed a washcloth and wiped down my leaves, rubbing off dust and dirt that had accumulated since the night of rain. I didn't feel that dirty, but the dark brown of dirt that rubbed off said otherwise. Muttering about how he should have had me hop in the shower but didn't want to get his new, clean clothes wet, Lanky grabbed another pair of towels, and I was dry again. He then pulled out of the locker, detached from his backpack my purple shoes, and wiped them as well, their purple shining as bright as ever.

    Lanky did the same for Leaf, letting him out of his pokeball and wiping him up. In moments the three of us were all cleaned up and walking down the hall, Leaf using his barbs and my leaf-blade to stay upright as he tried to navigate the textured, yet slippery tile, since he had no shoes. Lanky paused in the hallway, checking the message he'd received while showering, before pocketing it, then looking back at Leaf and I, smiling at the sight of me holding Leaf up as we approached him.

    The blue-haired waiter saw the three of us stepping out, and in moments, Lanky found Kate already seated at a table, where Lanky joined her. She laughed as Leaf and I found ourselves seated at a duo table, away from Kate's pokemon, on surprisingly comfy little stools. The table was already adjusted low, perfect for our heights. A small sun lamp was on and once we were seated, adjusted, angled and scoped so the light perfectly hit the two of us, but did not extend outward. Leaf and I both leaned forward, angling ourselves so the back of our headdresses received a bit more light.

    This brought our little antennae close enough to tapping distance. I had to admit. The sunlamp was incredibly nice, though the bright light and our bug-faces in proximity with each other made it hard to see anything beyond each other. The warmth spread through my undone headdress, keeping us from getting up and exploring despite the smell of sugar wafting through the air. Neither Leaf nor I had any inclination to leave our spots. Comfortable with some chlorophyll production going, our antennae tapped each other, Leaf's lightly phosphoric scent indicated his utter confusion and yet we were simultaneously lulled into the rhythm of the dinner.

    "Thank you for joining us tonight." A soft voice spoke through a speaker to my left, causing us to turn and freeze. A red-haired man stepped out onto the stage, a pair of lights beaming down onto the field over his head, allowing us to see him from a few hundred feet away in our perches, from far above.

    "This evening, we have two scheduled challengers, one up-and coming trainer with four badges! And another, seeking his first badge, one hailing from the Burghs of Anville, and the other, hailing from the deserts between Castelia city and Nimbasa! I, Chilli, will be the leader to host tonight's Mastery challenges! My brothers, Cress and Cilan will be your waiters tonight. The challenges will begin in the next hour. In the meantime, please enjoy your meals."

    "... and what shall we get for your pair of leavanny?" I heard the waiter ask.

    "Two Occa Berry shakes, please." I looked over, taking my head out from the heat of the lamp, at Lanky and Kate's table, the duo sitting there over dinner.

    "Oh?" the blue-haired waiter-slash-gym leader exclaimed. "Against Chilli, this is excellent forethought," he said.

    Lanky looked down at me, though I could not see his eyes or face, my eyes not adjusted from the dramatically-darker light. I got bored and decided to trust that Lanky and Kate would know something of what they were doing. In moments, a pair of plastic bowls with little flats jutting out the sides sat in front of Leaf and I, giving off the distinct smell of chocolate and sugar. Leaf dipped his leaf into his slurry, before his scent shifted, to a more acerbic kind of disdain. He didn't like it. I tapped mine with my antennae. When it burned like it was on fire, I shot back, chirping in surprise as my antennae went numb. It was literally just straight cacao with a bunch of sugar! Not made for bugs. Blech. My mouth had gone from dripping with saliva from the scent of sugar to dry as the desert.

    I looked back down at the spicy, agonizing slurry. Then back at Lanky's table, clicking in disdain. Leaf's antennae brushed against my numb antennae, before recoiling. I turned back to the slurry, my abdomen already trying to gag. Chocolate was not made for bugs. I paused, then moaned, "Nnnnyyyy," I proclaimed, distraught at what Lanky was asking us to do. Then I stuck my arm-blades out into the bowl, lifting it up to my mouth, then swallowed the bowl of sugar-fire chocolate in one go, holding my mouth shut with all my might, forcing the poison down, ignoring the gag reflex of my inner stomachs as they slowly went numb, my whole insides practically boiling and vibrating as the numbness spread through my entire body, leaning forward into the sun-lamp, Leaf's antennae tapping mine, though the taps were dull, all scent exchange practically gone.

    He shoved his bowl to the side, and I caught it, just before it careened off the edge. I wasn't exactly seeing leaves. But I wasn't able to taste the scents in the air, and I only felt Leaf's taps on my head, all sound had gone mute. It was for the best, that Leaf didn't eat this stuff. At least one of us was able to drool when a bowl of sugar-lathered leaves, sprinkled with soil were set in front of us. Completely physically numb from eating poison slurry, I decided that I would give the restaurant one out of four Michelin stars.
     
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    • Zoru, you make a great fic. I love it. Leah is adorable and Leaf is hilarious. Little Leavanny is so good and and you update so much I'm constantly checking to see if you've posted.

    Can't wait to see how Leah does against pansear.
     
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