A Monstrous World We Hold -IC-

[YenWen]

Not a day goes by that I don't wonder if this could have been avoided. Maybe it was impossible, but I still wonder. There isn't a night I don't hear sirens. There isn't a day I don't see smoke. I still like to believe it's not there, but you have to, to avoid it one day, whenever it comes. Despite all this, despite all the pain and destruction I've seen them cause, our world still revolves around them.

Before the Pokeballs came out we just called them things, monsters, magical beings in some cases. Now they're Pokemon, or pocket monster, though I can't entirely see why anyone would want to keep them. We use them for our power, for our food, for a number of things, but I can't help but think they do more harm than good. I know I'm not the only one, but, hey, maybe we're wrong. Without them, maybe we'd all die. Circle of life, right? You take a piece away and it just stops right there. No more circle, just a curvy line.

The entire world is focusing on them now. Some people want to be them, which is sickening to a point. Some people want them as pets, toys even. Parents can be retarded, so it doesn't surprise me they get what they want. Everyone gets what they want from these things. They're not just animals, they're tools. After the pokeball was developed, science took a turn for the worst and the red light district has never been more disgusting.

You can hear teenagers in stores, talking about the day they'll get to go to the district, or the PokeWalk, as they so fondly name it, to get a piece of Flopunny ass. "There's nothing hotter than them trying to beg for mercy when they can't even talk!" All you can do is plug your ears and keep walking, hoping the next turn isn't into a face full of ice, fire, or razors.

When you cross the street, you can hear from 50 feet away, the guy in the alley sniffing powders off some dealer's vileplume, and then hear him come crashing down before your feet touch the sidewalk. The dealer will take the guys money and go, leaving him to sit there, vomit, and then sit in a puddle of his own vomit. Never ask them if they need help, either. They'll either stare into space, or stare at you, and neither is worse the chill you get through your bones. It makes you wonder if those people that actually fight for the things that cause this stuff will ever win or not. It makes you want them to.

They'll shout and march, waving banners and throwing flyers. "Save these poor creatures!" They say. But are they really? I mean, I know one could kill me if they really wanted to, if we let them, but that's why we don't. It's not worth it. So what are they fighting for? A life for them or against ours? Maybe the others are right.

The others are the ones who want them gone, eliminated, blown to bits, anything to get them away. Maybe they know how to get energy some other way, but I sure don't. Not for how much we need, anyway. I can't blame them, either, though. I want just what they do: Peace at last. Peace you can't find with Pokemon.

[YenWen]

“Yes, the Pokemon League. It’s a very prestigious organization, if I do say so myself, and our little Madeline already has two badges herself!”
Mr. Fitzgerald had the haughty habit of going on a bit longer than he should when speaking to people, especially acquaintances. It was a guilty pleasure of his, to an extent, and a burden to others, including his daughter.

Madeline was 16, springy, or in other words, a knobby little thing that hadn’t properly gone through puberty yet. Her nails were long, her hair was short, her skin was pale and her expensive lipstick was dark. She sat an iron table on the cobblestones of the garden, legs crossed, one elbow on the table with the opposite hand’s nails ticking on the glass tabletop. You could tell she was from a prestigious family, but only because everything on her cost a pretty penny.

A glameow purred at her feet, curled in a ball. Her father encouraged her to have her pokemon out while there was company, and it was the most appealing, or at least the most nonthreatening. The thing was mostly harmless, which was why she avoided using it during most battles.

“Well, would you look at that! How precious…” Speak of the devil. One of her father’s richer acquaintances, a Madame if you will, seemed to have a particular adoration for the thing. “You must be Madeline,” she went on. “You must love being in the Pokemon league! And two badges! It’s just splendid.” She bent down to scratch the cat behind its ear and if the skirt was wearing had been a bit weaker, it surely would have given way. “Who’s a pretty kitty? Who’s a pretty kitty?” she cooed. It was more or less a bit disgusting. Madeline rolled her glazed eyes. “Would you like it?”

“Now, Madeline, that’s not something to joke about.” Mr. Fitzgerald stepped forward, hands carefully behind his back to not crease him $1000 suit. “You need your glameow to compete. I apologize for Madeline’s sarcasm Ms. DuBois, she’s been gone for a few weeks and I’m sure she’s a bit tired.” He was a good liar, like any better business man should be. “Oh, it’s quite alright, Daniel. I have a boy of my own. Teenagers, of course. It was a pleasure meeting you, Madeline.” She patted Madeline on the head with her pudgy hand and walked away, calling for one of her chaperones.

“Maddie, dear, you know better than that.” Madeline didn’t answer, keeping to herself and watching the crowd of people banter back and forth. “Do you have any idea how many kids your age would love to do what you are?”
“Why can’t you send them, then?” Madeline scoffed. “Madeline, we’ve been over this. It’s good for you.”
“Sure, Dad. Whatever you say.” Her father shook his head, but knew there was no use fighting over a molding ham. He went back to his guests, smiling and ready to please.

Seeing no further purpose in staying here, Madeline retrieved a pokeball from her pocket, glanced at it, put it back and grabbed another with the right sticker on it. To avoid confusion, she kept different stickers on each ball, so each was different. She squeezed it, the button on its front lighting. The glameow lit just as the button and dissipated into it. Madeline retreated from the garden party and went towards the forest, rummaging through her pockets at the same time.

As she got deep enough, she pulled out one with a bright blue sticker, and released it. What emerged was a shaking thing, a Vaporeon in a place where it didn’t want to be. It yelped at Madeline, a plea to go back. “Hush, now,” she nagged. “You’ll be fine. You need the water.” Madeline sat down on a rock, as the vaporeon looked back and forth between the pond and her mistress. Her amphibious skin was drying, like the skin of chapped lips, and it was obvious what she needed. As quickly as she could manage, she jumped in.

She was the only one Madeline could stand, out of all her pokemon. Maybe because of the fear she held, and perhaps out of pity. “We leave tomorrow, you know. A new battle. He’s a bugger, too, so, I’ll need you. Don’t fuck up.” Vaporeon floated in the water, absorbing it how she could, renewing her flesh. "We'll go down to Castelia tomorrow. If you don't gross out anyone, I'll let you ride in the limo there." You have to wonder, though, how Madeline felt for the thing. She spoke venom, but sometimes the right venom can clear a wound.

[Harper]

Roman sighed and dipped into the stream, a long groan escaped his throat as the cool water hit him. He needed it. “Damn sun.” He was so burnt even the pits of his knees were plum. “Hey Amp, that lotion still in there?” One thing he stole throughout the summer happened to be sunscreen.

He heard a grunt as the sheep fumbled through the bag up on the riverbank. The pokemon waited his turn, no way in hell Roman would be in the water when he did. Plop. The bottle landed in the water, floated to the top and the current almost carried it out of reach. Roman snatched it and glared over his shoulder, “Thanks.”

Amp stood at six-three, two inches taller than Roman. Pink and pearly white skin tattooed his back from tail to head, no wool grew there, but then again only a shaggy carpet covered the rest of him. On wool farms, once they got this big they just shipped them to the power plants. Always a use for the monsters, Roman supposed.

Roman stood in the bank and rose so water only went up to his knees. The man squeezed the bottle over the back of his neck until it shriveled in his grip, then began the process of rubbing down his neck, shoulders, and face. To the left the vagabond glimpsed the approach of headlights, as he continued lathering the sunburnt parts of his skin, being extra tender over his scars, he heard an engine speed by and off. Amp sneezed.

“Enjoyin’ yourself? You could be doin’ something.”

But he didn’t, it was Roman’s turn to get firewood. Roman finished and squat back into the water, sighed and closed his eyes. The water running over his skin soothed the day’s aches just long enough for him to relax.

Amp yawned.

“Alright, right,” Roman grumbled and got up, he walked back to the sandy bank and glared at his companion. “Your turn.”

Amp trotted to the water and hopped in. Roman heard the typical fzzt sound as the pokemon landed, light snaked up and down the stream, and then fish started to rise to the surface. The vagabond said as he threw on his shirt, “Hey, don’t forget to grab some of those things. Last time you didn’t and we had to split a ration of rice. Hey, you listenin’?”

Amp looked at him and snorted. Roman scowled, snatched his shorts and growled, “Just do it.” He scrambled into the shorts, and checked the pockets for his knife, nodded and left behind his pack and boots. He stepped up the slope to the road and checked for headlights, shrugged and hopped the guardrail and jogged across the two lane highway. On the other side waited the forest, it did not take him long to gather a bundle of sticks and a small log. He carried it back, hopped onto the highway and went back across. When he returned to the bank Amp floated on his back, eyes closed, his belly rising and falling with his breath. In the nearing twilight, the white of Amp’s belly offered stark contrast to the blue and grey landscape. Near, Roman’s pack waited four fish, none of them standing out dim light.

Roman stared at Amp, shook his head and chuckled. He dropped the sticks by his pack, a branch snagged his shirt and ripped it. He cursed and pulled the hem out to look, this was the second rip today, it matched the inch long cut on his left side right underneath his ribs. This one started at the hem and went up. He wore a blue overshirt, long since faded and browned by dirt, several of the buttons missing, his shorts suffered the same treatment.

Roman mumbled, “Gotta get a new one of these soon.” Roman glanced at Amp and muttered, “Lazy ass.” He left and fetched more wood.

Roman made three trips, when he returned for the third time Amp stood farther up on the bank waiting for him, his hide dripping. He crouched and began digging a pit, Roman dropped the wood in the growing pile, and went to the fishes. He retrieved his knife and started cleaning them. By the time he finished Amp dug the pit and gathered some bull grass and cattails, he lined the bottom with it and aligned the first few twigs. Roman shoved his fish on separate spits, then went to the pit, he knelt beside Amp and grunted, “I’ll take it from here.”

Roman finished preparing the fire, and dug through his pack for the lighter he stole last weekend. He stuck it to the bottom of the pit where he made a small opening for air. He lit the kindling, and with some coaxing breaths, produced a flame. Next he retrieved the bag of rice in his pack and a pot, they ate well that night. Roman saved fish for the morning and Amp got his fill of rice, then Roman sprawled onto the riverbank to sleep. He got three hours, then Amp woke him by nudging him with a stick. Roman kept his eyes open for four hours, tending to the coals Amp left him. Then, two hours before dawn he woke Amp again and finished off his remaining zzz’s.

[Dio the Awesome]

Castelia City - Southern Port

The darkness was gathering as the sun faded over the horizon. The damp wooden dock thumped wetly under my black heavy boots. There was a growing mist in the air as a light fog rolled in off of the water. I rubbed a hand through my short brown hair. My hand was wet. I grumbled as the humid air began to cling to everything. I pulled my dark brown jacket closer to my body to keep the cold out. My father, though similarly dressed did not seem bothered by the weather as I was. Then again my father was never one to let his emotions show. Hell, he rarely talked to anyone. I glanced at him sideways, watching his face. It was rough looking, like some prize fighter who lost too many bouts, but it was strong and stoic. His long black hair trailed behind him on the slight breeze. He caught me staring. I quickly averted my own eyes and pretended like I was simply observing the scenery. A briny taste began to accumulate in my mouth, so I hacked a big lump of spit over the side of the dock.

A movement to the left of us caught my eye. Instinctively my hands went to my body. The right hand went to the inside of my jacket, gripping a black semi automatic hand gun, while the left fingered the single pokeball on my belt. In this business, an assassin could use a dangerous pokemon, just as soon as shoot you. My eyes finally registered the shape; just some homeless guy. I took my hand off the gun and instead grabbed a cigarette out of my pocket. I didn't really smoke, but it was a useful habit. My lungs burned as I inhaled the first wave of smoke. My father watched me silently as I put the lighter away. At this point I was a master at interpreting my fathers looks.

"Yeah I know I'm tense." I muttered, smoke coming off of my words, "I'm always tense before the job is over.

The answer seemed to satisfy my father, as he turned back to look ahead at the dimly lit dock. Wordlessly my father lead me down an alley, and into a dry dock. The building was huge, with massive lengths of chains used to pulled ships in lying about. The meeting was taking place on one of the ships in the dry dock. Of course, the only boat in the whole damn place with lights on. Very inconspicuous, I felt my nerves rising again and took another drag of my cigarette. There were two men guarding the ramp to the boat. I recognized our man as Mason. A slim man, but slippery as a fucking Ekans. He gave a curt nod to my father. The other man was someone I didn't recognize, but was obviously hired by our business partner, and he was built like a tank. He held up a hand as we approached.

"Sorry sirs, I need to pat you for weapons." He said professionally.

My father nodded. He handed Mason his own gun first, and then held out his arms. The man patted him down thoroughly until he was satisfied. Then he turned to me. Again I passed my handgun to our man. He went up and down my arms and across the chest. It felt like the man lingered a little too long on the groin area, like he couldn't decide whether or not my balls were a lethal weapon. He stopped when he got to my belt.

"Pokemon?" He asked me.

"Yeah, what of it? I was told each side could have one pokemon with them. This is my one." I informed him.

"What species?"

I snorted, smoke blowing out my nose, "Like I'd tell you."

He shrugged and finished his pat. Finally he waved us forward. We both climbed the ramp and ducked inside the cabin of the ship. Sitting at a small table were two men. Shibo Mayabusa, the head of a crime circle over seas, and his right hand man Hayaki Wataba. I exchanged pleasantries with them in place of my father.

"Greetings gentlemen. This is Giovani as I'm sure you have guessed, and I am James. I'll be his spokesman." I started. "Now as I was informed, you are looking into pokemon for personal protection. I believe we can meet your needs. We have very powerful pokemon who have already completed or begun their conditioning, at a fair price I might add."

Shibo nodded, "We have seen the numbers. They are acceptable to us. All that we need to know, is the quality of the pokemon you can provide."

I smiled, "Of course, of course. I can show you something. If you would join my on the deck please."

I lead the group out onto the deck of the ship. I tensed up. there was always this surge of adrenaline I got when I would summon my prize. The powerful force that I have breed and cultivated and trained. I removed my only pokemon from my belt, felt the ball in my hand. Oh. So that's why he was feeling my balls, I thought idly.

Finally I held the ball outwards. "Gyarados!" I called, allowing the pokemon within the hear my voice. I could almost feel the ball rumble in my hand as its writhed in anticipation. "Serve me!"

I depressed the button. A stream of red light shot from the ball and into the open space in the warehouse. A terrifying roar shook the building as a monster took shape. It's blue scales began to shimmer in the light. The Gyarados looked around the room, it's massive head snarling, exposing it's rows of sharp teeth. Finally its eyes focused on me. It stayed still awaiting my orders.

"Gyarados. Heel." I shouted.

On command, the massive creature wriggled on the floor towards us. It slide up to the side of the boat and wove itself into a tight coil at my feet, or as close to my feet as it could get. Shibo looked impressed.

My father suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. His voice seemed ancient like dried papyrus, yet it still commanded respect, "Your first shipment of this and twenty other species can be ready in three days should you agree to the price of 3,000,000."

[Silvan Arrow]

Castelia City - Outskirts

The obnoxious buzz of the alarm went off way too soon for Maikka’s liking. The twenty-eight year-old brownette rolled over with a groan and fumbled groggily with her free hand until she found the offending piece of technology and hit the off switch. She was loath to leave the warm, cushiony cocoon of blankets after spending a week in the field sleeping on the hard ground. The days might be plenty warm enough, but sometimes the nights still got too cold for her liking. Two days after getting back to her suburban home, she was still bone-tired and sore after conducting all those population surveys in Yagaruma Forest, but the annual Pokemon Ornithologists’ Conference started tonight and she was presenting some important research that she and her colleagues had completed several months ago.

With a yawn, Maikka stretched and arched her back and then reached down with a hand to scratch the blue and yellow dog-like Pokemon sleeping beside her bed. “Hey, Volt, did you sleep well?” The male Manectric yawned with a tired whimper but licked her hand regardless. “Yeah, I’m still tired too,” she replied with a sympathetic chuckle. “At least you can sleep in your Pokeball all day today. I’ve got to work.” Volt grunted noncommittally and went back to sleep, his head resting comfortably on his paws.

A hot shower and breakfast did wonders for Maikka’s sore muscles. Volt wandered into the kitchen soon after, smelling the food cooking and expecting his breakfast as well. She gave him his bowl of food and stepped outside through the deck door to her small, fenced backyard. Not surprisingly, Ifrit looked like he had been awake for hours and was practicing a random assortment of kicks and punches. “Morning, Ifrit,” she called to the impressive-looking Blaziken. “Looks like you’re in better shape than me after all that field work.” Ifrit paused just long enough to acknowledge Maikka with a nod before resuming. Maikka simply shrugged and gave a tiny smile; as her self-appointed bodyguard, he always took his training very seriously. She made her way to the covered pen in the corner of the yard, where Yakul, her Sawsbuck, was still asleep, standing as usual like a horse. He preferred to sleep outside of his Pokeball when the weather was warm. The deer Pokemon’s ears twitched as they picked up the sound of her footsteps, and he opened his eyes to regard her expectantly.

“I know, I know, you’re hungry too.” She poured grain into his feed trough and groomed his coat with a coarse brush while he ate. He had already shed his winter coat about two months ago, and the flower buds on his antlers were starting to blossom into the full, green leafy canopy of the summer. She had read numerous research papers and attended lectures on the phenomenon, and the general consensus was that Deerlings formed a sort of symbiotic relationship with a certain species of plant that they ingested when they were young, which manifested into the plant-like antlers they gained when they matured into Sawsbucks.

Once Yakul was comfortable and eating, Maikka left the pen and pulled out the last Pokeball on her belt and released the creature inside. A brilliant flash of white light coalesced into the shape of a Rufflet. “Morning, Aquila,” she greeted as the eagle-like chick perched on her shoulder and rubbed his beak against her cheek affectionately. “You hungry?” Aquila chirped in reply as Maikka found the bag of seeds beside Yakul’s pen and filled up his bird feeder. Aquila flapped from her shoulder to the perch and started eating. Ifrit was still practicing, so Maikka left his food on the deck as usual before heading back inside to get her presentation materials ready for the conference tonight. After making sure she had her presentation and notes saved on her laptop, she changed into a sharp, charcoal-colored business suit with a pencil skirt, returned her Pokemon except Ifrit to their Pokeballs, and slipped on a pair of black heels before departing for the metro station with Ifrit by her side.

Later that night…

Maikka departed the conference hall much later than expected. After giving her presentation, everyone had adjourned to the main foyer for drinks, and she had gotten so wrapped up in a conversation with an old colleague that she completely lost track of time. She was ever grateful for Ifrit’s constant presence beside her as the duo walked through the crowded downtown area of Castelia City. She purposely took the long way around to avoid going near the red light district, not just for the obvious reasons but to spare Ifrit the painful memories. She only shuddered to think what sort of heinous atrocities he would have had to endure now that he had matured into a more humanoid (and in some people’s perspective, more handsome) Blaziken. However, the route took them close to the harbor, which had a shady reputation late at night.

Ifrit suddenly tensed out of the corner of Maikka’s eye, his only cue that he sensed something amiss, and silently shoved Maikka behind him so that he stood between her and the harbor. “What is it?” she asked in a hushed whisper. Ifrit remained silent and just kept looking at a single boat at the end of the farthest dock, the only one that was still lit. Suddenly a savage roar sounded from within a warehouse next to the boat, followed by the shout of a young man. “Gyarados. Heel.”

Maikka’s mind whirled through all the worst-case scenarios. What was a person doing with a Gyarados out in the port this late at night? What’s more, a Pokemon of that size and temperament was practically illegal this close to the city’s borders. And what if the person with the Gyarados lost control? Things could get very ugly very fast. Her heart racing, Maikka ducked behind a nearby building so she was out of sight and pulled out her cell phone while fingering Volt’s Pokeball nervously. Ifrit stood guard and kept one eye on the boat and one eye on Maikka while she dialed 911. “Hello, I need the police. I’m out by the harbor, and I think there’s something here you need to investigate…”

[Skitzo-phrenick]

Castelia City – Outskirts

The not-so-sleeping sounds of the city were joined with an exhausted yawn as Becca stretched herself tiredly. Her muscles were sore and her body ached, but despite that she could only keep a pleased demeanor as a tired smile formed on her face. “I told you it would only take one day,” she spoke up tiredly into the air.

A gust of wind swirled beside her, rustling her already sloppy hair as Haunter’s rounded shape formed nearby, looking just as weary but smiling all the same. He seemed to enjoy the victory of their trip as well. Of course calling success of the goal to make it from Nacrene to Castelia in the course of a single day without stopping a ‘victory’ was kind of like punching yourself in the face with all your might just to prove you could do it. You didn’t really win. If anything the idea was more suicidal than it was challenging, but Becca could have cared less. Even though in her mind her father’s voice yelling at the top of his lungs at the thoughtlessness of her decision was overwhelming, all she could feel was pride. This was probably one of the main reasons she was sent here in the first place.

For the past couple of weeks the pink haired delinquent had found herself in police custody at least three times and it was becoming more than evident to her parents (as well as every other Nacrene citizen familiar with her) that she was restless. She had taken one boy’s Monmen, attacked a girl abusing her Churine, and got herself caught in a tussle with a few men bordering on the beliefs of the others. In all of those cases she was caught and reprimanded, saying she had gone about the situation wrong, but as far as she was concerned it was everyone else who was mistaken.

In her parent’s opinion it was just a phase; a commendable motive with the wrong responses. And usually when she became more active like this (in other words more willing to not just step aside, run for help, or simply let things be), it was time for her to do something a bit more tasking. Something that would wear her out enough so that she wouldn’t be willing to fight so much; and of course they couldn’t let her help thwart the pokémon hunters and trainers. No, that was for older members and too convenient and fun for her. Instead they stuck her on jobs like this, long journeys that involved days’ worth of walking and boredom.

She sighed again, this time out of pure frustration. Maybe she should just return to the city days late so they would never let her do this again. The thought was tempting, but she knew through past experience that she could rarely ever pull it off. Her mind would constantly wonder about the pokémon in the center back home. Would one of them die because she was merely a day late? Would she have essentially killed an innocent creature out of her own vengeance? No, she could never really follow through with it.

“At least the city is fun,” she commented aloud. Haunter, who seemed to have understood her thought process just smiled excitedly before floating off ahead of her like he usually did. She watched as his body dissipated into seeming nothingness, invisible to the naked eye. She made no move to follow him. He wasn’t HER pokémon, and well within his right to do what he wanted. Plus even if he looked like he was wandering off, he always seemed to appear at her side when she needed him most.

Infected by his eagerness, she laughed and ran off into the city, grabbing onto any of the trees she passed and swinging along its branches before hoping away to whatever drew her fancy. There was no rush to head over to the PokéCenter. Like any proper hospital it was open 24/7 and full of sympathetic people who would give her a place to sleep if need be, so why not enjoy the sights for a while before getting back on track? After all, the city looked beautiful at night.

“I wonder if there’s any place selling that Icy stuff still!”

[Dio the Awesome]

The deal was wrapping up. My father did the rest of the talking, well, as much talking as he ever did. Everyone once in a while he would clarify things like price and pokemon type. I had returned Gyarados to his pokeball sometime ago, but it seemed like he was still restless. Then Hayaki, who had been silent the entire time, unexpected started to speak.

"There is another product on the market. As business partners, I would hate for you to miss out on such a lucrative opportunity." He spoke with a soft, almost melodic voice. "It involves genetic splicing. The theory behind it is this; by combining genes from a human and a pokemon you could give someone pokemon like powers. Of course there are risks that come with the procedure, but once it becomes refined, people will practically line up to receive this power."

I dared not to speak. My father was silent, his clockwork mind turning over risk and profit margins. Hayaki appeared to be nervous, wondering if he had said something to upset my old man. Finally my father nodded once. It was my turn to chime in again.

"We would be happy to discuss this opportunity at our next meeting." I confirmed.

Shibo stood and bowed. We disembarked from the ship in pairs. I recovered my piece from Mason and slid it back in its holster. Politely my father and I walked Shibo and Hayaki to a nearby pier. Floating awkwardly in the water was some sort of sea going vessel. It was about 20 feet high and was built out of metal, except for a wooden deck that could hold about six people. I examined it in confusion, because I could see no motor nor a steering wheel. Instead there was a cavity in the front of the boat with additional rigging hanging down. I was about to ask what sort of vessel it was, when suddenly multiple sirens sounded out in the night.

"Shit. Who fucking tipped off the cops." I shouted at no one in particular. My father gave me a petrifying look. I swallowed hard and understood what he expected from me immediately. I turned to Shibo, "Can you get away?"

Shibo laughed as he pulled out his own pokeball. He calmly walked to the edge of the pier and directed the ball to the water. "Lapras, go forth." He spoke softly.

A majestic Lapras materialized in the water, just in front of the strange vessel, and I instantly understood what it was for. Hayaki and the other man jumped on board the craft and began to attach rigging the the Lapras' shell. I couldn't be sure in the dark, but it looked like metal hooks were drilled into its spines. Shibo boarded after they had attached all the ropes, and they were already drifting out to sea before the first cruiser rounded the corner. There were three cars, all speeding down the pier towards us.

I turned to face them. One of the cruisers was far ahead of the other two. It came screeching to a halt in front of us and two Jennies popped out.

"Faces down on the dock!" One of them yelled.

"Fuck you Jenny!" I shouted back, simultaneously giving her the middle finger with my right hand. My left was secretly gripped around Gyarados.

"I said." She emphasized, moving towards us, "Get down on the-"

I cut her off, and extended my left hand. "Gyarados destroy!"

As before a bolt of red light heralded the massive serpent. Before the first officer could react, Gyarados slammed his head into the police car, crushing the front end and sending it skidding backwards several yards. Wordlessly my dad released a pokemon of his own. It was dwarfed by Gyarados but was dangerous nonetheless. A dark brown Golem was shielding my father. Bullets tended to just bounce right off its tough shell.

Both of the police officers were visibly shaken, but to their credit they drew their guns. By now the other police cruisers had caught up.

"Gyarados, protect." I ordered. He formed a semi-circle around me using his massive body as a wall. "Well dad, this is just fucking great." I muttered to him.

[Skitzo-phrenick]

She heard the sirens first. It was a familiar sound for unfortunately obvious reasons, and in the beginning she thought they might be for her, which meant she had to find a hiding place immediately; so that was what she did.

Despite her exhaustion from the long day of travel, the adrenaline in her body and experience with escaping the authorities had her moving rapidly. She grabbed the branch of the closest tree that lined the streets, and with a quick and careful speed she swung herself into the brush above. A surprised gasp was heard nearby (no doubt from someone who had witnessed her moment of ingenuity), but she chose to ignore it, bundling up her cloak behind her back so she didn’t stand out too much against the leaves of the tree.

A moment passed before the sounds of the sirens were followed by their source. Three police cars moving at speeds she had never seen from anything other than a rapidash blew past, seemingly uncaring for her or her makeshift hiding place. She watched with curious eyes as they sped off towards the docks that were nearby. The lights of the vehicles could still be seen flashing and the sirens, though fainter, were still audible before they were shut off completely.

Figuring they had found what they were looking for, Becca hopped out of the tree, startling a passer-by, whom just stared at her as if she had appeared out of thin air. Her curiosity kept her ignorant of anyone next to her and staring down towards the docks, and without even a word she sprinted off in that direction, suddenly filled with excitement at the activity.

Out of her child-like enthusiasm for coming across something interesting, she grabbed onto another tree and swung like she usually did, but by the time she felt the bark of the branch on her fingertips a flash of red light lit up the night. The sudden burst of color was too much of a shock and in an instant she lost her grip and tumbled roughly to the ground, the concrete pathway skinning her hands and entire right side in the process.

“Owwwwww,” she groaned painfully as she checked the damage of her fall, cursing thoroughly at the state of her right leg and arm, as well as her hands. Her cloak showed signs of scraping as well, which caused a few more swears to escape her before she was interrupted entirely by sounds of fireworks nearby. Well, the sound wasn’t really fireworks. It was much harsher and not nearly as magical, but it was the only thing she could compare it to.

Forgetting her injuries, she turned her attention to the port again, knowing for sure that that was where the sound was coming from. There, only a few hundred feet away, she saw it. One of the largest pokémon she had ever seen let out a mighty roar as it moved in almost a serpent fashion, towering over the three police cars as if they were merely an annoyance to it.

Immediately all she could feel at the sight of it was awe. Such an amazing creature could only be a true sign of god’s power and chances are it was only a drop in the bucket to its true creator. Her mind riddled through all the pokémon she was familiar with and came up blank for a name and class. Yes, she knew it was sad, pathetic, and shameful for one in her religious standing to not know all the pokémon, but there were so many and she was poor with memorization. Also, there were only a few species that lived around Nacrene, and in most cases they avoided people entirely. Really the only times she managed to get a good look at pokémon were through books in the libraries. The ones she had actually seen with her eyes were those tamed by her people or the trainers, but none had anything of the caliber of the large beast before her.

Enraptured with the magnitude of its size and obvious strength, Becca unconsciously began to move towards it. She started with slow, pained steps first, but soon her newly attained injuries couldn’t be felt and she found herself sprinting once again towards it, noticing another unfamiliar pokémon at its side.

Not caring for the firework sounds, she ran out into the midst of the battle, stopping directly behind the officers who were solely focused on shooting the pokémon before them.

The realization of what the firework sounds were coming from stopped her in her tracks. She recognized those things. They were in the hands of the hunters, who many of her people went against in order to save the pokémon, and again here they were, held by the authorities of the city. Were they hunting now too? Is that what went on in this city when she wasn’t around, police officers shooting and attacking innocent creatures? With horror she watched as they proceeded to unload their firepower on the pokémon; their intent to injure or even kill clear on their faces. She stared in silence as they continued, oblivious to her entirely as they shot at the seemingly innocent beasts before them. The sight was sickening, the violent intent causing bile to rise in her throat.

“Wha-What are you doing?” She spoke weakly at first, her voice a cracked whisper over shadowed by the sound of gunfire. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP!!” she screamed angrily before jumping on the nearest Jenny, scratching and pulling at her hair with as much force as she could muster, “STOP!!! YOU’RE HURTING THEM!! STOP IT!!!”

A nearby officer heard the screams and noticed the attack, instantly turning her weapon on Becca and aiming. The officer squeezed the trigger immediately to save her attacked comrade, but just as she fired a strong gust of wind blew heavily on the small, enraged teen, pushing her off her victim to barely escape the oncoming bullet. With the strength and flexibility she acquired through her lifestyle as well as her own small criminal behavior, she flipped from the force of the air that continued to move her and landed on her feet, sliding back a bit.

“Thanks,” was all she said through frustrated tears as Haunter formed at her side, watching her warily. She didn’t bother to look at him though as she kept her glare on the Jenny ahead of her.

“Stand down!” the officer ordered, “Move any further and I WILL shoot you!” Seeing the danger of the situation, Becca did as she was ordered, keeping still as her brown eyes searched her surroundings for a place to go for cover. The Jenny seemed to see what she was doing so she quickly spoke again. “I mean it! I will shoot!”

At the second cry, more officers began to notice what was going on behind them, quickly turning their sights on Becca while a few kept their aim still on the pokémon before them. Ignoring the anger that soared through her at the sight, the pink-haired teen struggled to keep her focus on finding an escape. All she could notice was the edge of the pier. It would hurt like hell being in the water with the scrapes from earlier and lord knows she was still tired, but it would have to do. She would never submit to such evil people, even if they were officers of the law.

“Haunter, I’m gonna need a push,” she spoke so only her friend would hear. As a response it vanished once more, its body dissipating as she made a break for the water.

Within an instant shots fired after her, some whizzing past her so closely that instantly all she could feel was fear. A few close calls scrapped her cheek and arm, and for a moment she thought this would be it. But just as her hope began to fade from her mind, the relieving feeling of the same strong breeze as before took her. In what seemed like seconds she felt her body lift in the air and over the edge of the pier. Then all she heard was silence as she plunged into the water below.

[Silvan Arrow]

Maikka’s heart was in her throat for the several tense minutes it took before she heard the sirens heralding the approach of the police. What she thought would be a quick, painless solution quickly escalated into a war zone as the police pulled their guns while two of the men, a father and son duo by the looks of it, unleashed a Gyarados and Golem to counter the gunfire. The Gyarados was beyond powerful, easily crushing a police car and shielding his master while the Golem deflected the bullets effortlessly.

Maikka wasn’t used to feeling so helpless and out of control. Her career as a scientist relied on logic, which gave her a sense of reassurance that she could make decisions without worrying about her emotions getting in the way. Everything was much simpler that way, so cut and dried. But now, as she cowered behind an abandoned warehouse with Ifrit, she couldn’t find anything logical at all about this situation. The police upheld the law and protected the innocent, yet they were firing at two Pokemon with the intent to injure or even kill. The Pokemon’s trainers were probably illegal smugglers, by Maikka’s guess, but even so, the Pokemon weren’t at fault. Why should the Pokemon suffer for the mistakes of their trainers? In the midst of Maikka’s confused musings, she subconsciously pressed the button to release Volt from his Pokeball, which she clutched in her hand, and the Manectric whimpered as he nudged her trembling hand to try and get a response from his trainer.

The standoff quickly grew even more dangerous as the screams of a young girl drew Maikka’s attention. A pink-haired teen wearing a white cloak dashed out of nowhere and yelled at the officers to stop shooting. As foolish as she was, Maikka couldn’t help but mentally commend her courage. However, she gasped in horror and nearly blew her cover as the officers turned their guns toward the girl and threatened to shoot. What were these officers thinking, pulling their weapons on a minor! Then time seemed to slow painfully as everything happened at once. The pink-haired girl turned and ran for the water just as Gyarados readied another attack on the officers.

In that instant, Maikka made up her mind. She refused to take sides here, but she would protect people’s lives where possible. She reached for Yakul’s Pokeball as she ordered to Volt, “Distract Gyarados with a Thunderbolt!” Volt complied immediately and sank into a crouch, using his fur like mini lightning rods to draw in static from the air and concentrate it into a powerful burst of electricity that arced through the air between Gyarados and the line of police officers. The attack didn’t make contact, but Maikka knew that Gyarados’ natural aversion to electricity would be enough to buy them a few precious seconds. “Great job,” she complimented as she vaulted onto Yakul’s back with practiced ease, leaving her black heels behind, and recalled Volt. She dug her bare heels into Yakul’s side, and he lurched forward, spurred by a sense of urgency, and disappeared into the shadows between the buildings. “Ifrit, follow!”

Maikka directed Yakul between the buildings to stay out of sight of the police and smugglers, who by now were probably wondering who had attacked them with electricity, and reemerged at the water’s edge at the far end of the warehouse she had been using for cover. She could see the pink-haired girl struggling in vain against the current about twenty yards from her. Maikka only had a couple of minutes at most before the waves swept her out past the docks and beyond her aid. She didn’t have any water Pokemon, but Yakul could swim short distances when needed. “Yakul, go help her!” she ordered, sliding off the Sawsbuck’s back. Yakul snorted in compliance and took a running jump off the concrete platform into the saltwater. He powered through the waves, a feat only possible thanks to all the exercise he got in the field transporting Maikka, and reached the girl so she could haul herself onto his back. Maikka nervously waited beside Ifrit as Yakul struggled to carry her back to shore; she willed the exhausted girl to hold on, willed Yakul to not give in to exhaustion.

After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, Yakul reached the concrete platform, and Ifrit helped Maikka haul him and the pink-haired girl back onto dry land. The poor Sawsbuck collapsed on his side and panted desperately to regain his lost wind, and Maikka knew the saltwater probably stung his plantlike antlers painfully. By now the girl was barely clinging to consciousness, and Maikka quickly checked the make sure she was still breathing before going to Yakul. She supported his head in her hands to help him breathe more easily. “Easy, boy. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m so proud of you…” she whispered soothingly to her friend. She recalled him to his Pokeball once he was breathing easier, but she would need to hose him down with freshwater and give him a good rubdown once they got back home.

Satisfied that Yakul would be okay, she returned to Ifrit’s side, who was kneeling and supporting the girl’s upper body in his clawed hands. “Hey, are you okay? Don’t worry, we’re going to get you out of here and someplace safe.” She spoke to Ifrit, “I’m going to need you to carry her. We need to get home right away.” Ifrit nodded and stood, cradling the girl in his arms. Maikka took off at a barefooted sprint for her house, her laptop case bouncing painfully against her hip, while Ifrit stayed close by her side. Luckily, the streets were mostly deserted at this late hour, so it was easy enough to stay out of sight by sticking to side streets until they reached the residential districts. Maikka was exhausted and out of breath by the time they got back home, and she collapsed against the door as she locked it behind her. “Now that…was an experience… I never want… to happen again…” she gasped between breaths.

Now that they were safe for the time being, Maikka turned her attention to Ifrit and the girl. “Take her into the guest bedroom while I find the first aid kit, okay?” Ifrit silently complied while Maikka fetched the first aid kit from the bathroom and got a glass of water for the girl, who would no doubt be dehydrated by now. ‘So much for the simple life of a scientist,’ she thought as she made her way to the guest bedroom to tend to her unexpected visitor.

[Dio the Awesome]

Blood began to flow from the Gyarados like ichor. He was a powerful beast and the bullets were naught but mosquito bites to it, but even a Gyarados had its limits. I was about to call out to my father, when a bolt of electricity passed by Gyarados. I whirled on the attacker, nervous. Electricity was the only thing a Gyarados feared. Before I could shout a command to my pokemon, a strange girl began to harass the police officers. My father saw an opportunity. His command was barely a whisper, but the Golem knew what was expected of it. It walked up several paces, the sound of timbers creaking under weight was audible. A Golem is a powerful pokemon, but also unexpectedly agile. Since it has to carry its weight everywhere, a Golem is a strong jumper. The Jenny's could do nothing but watch as the Golem jumped several feet into the air, bringing its weight down on the dock. A snapping sound could be heard and the dock shuddered. One of the officers shouted at my father to stop, but nothing could be done. The Golem jumped a second time.

The combined weight of the two monstrous pokemon, as well as the police cars were too much for the dock to handle. Underneath, a support beam snapped in twain. I fell against my Gyarados, who kept me upright with my tail. My father, expecting this, was able to hold his ground on his own. Two of the police cars and the Golem rolled down the slanted portion of the dock and into the water, along with two officers. The third car was on a stable part of the dock. The girl was nowhere to be seen in the confusion, and the police were now no longer a problem. I half crawled half walked back onto solid ground to face my attacker, but there was no one to be seen.

My father stood beside me, "Let's go." He whispered.

"Your Golem-" He cut me off.

"I have a dozen like it at home. We're going." He began to walk off.

I recalled Gyarados and looked back at the carnage. The middle of the dock was submerged, a mess of wood and steel. The two remaining police officers were frantically trying to rescue their comrades. The thrashing Golem in the water wasn't making things easy on them. There would be no threat from them, at least, not right now.

[Skitzo-phrenick]

Everything passed by in a blurred haze of black to color, segmented in both sound and time. At first all Becca could recall was the burning pain that came from the salt in the sea water mingling with her wounds and the harsh cold of each unforgiving wave. She’ll admit that she thought the pain would fade and she could muster up enough strength to get to shore, but by the tie her body went numb she could no longer move her arms and legs.

Panicked gusts of wind blew around her head in hopes of helping her, but all it did was make the water more frenzied and it harder for her to time her breathing. She didn’t have the heart (or the air) though to tell Haunter to go away. Instead she focused on keeping her head above water, but that only lasted a few seconds before her body gave up the fight altogether.

She struggled to breathe an apology to Haunter for causing him so much trouble but her effort to find the strength was interrupted by the feel of something tugging at her cloak. She looked over her shoulder to see a familiar looking pokémon with beautiful antlers and fur struggling to pull her on its back. Relief washed over her as she couldn’t help but smile at the creature before actually realizing it was having some difficulty moving her. Lazily she helped, clinging to its neck as she balanced her weight on the sawsbuck.

That was the first point she blacked out. She was able to hear briefly but the sounds were muddled and incoherent, only allowing a few jumbled and segmented phrases to actually be heard.

“H… you ok… Don… worry… re going to… out… place safe.” Was someone talking to her? Did that pokémon that saved her have a trainer? Poor thing. She’d have to remember to make sure it was in good care. Still, even if that wasn’t the case, she owed both the creature and its owner a proper thank you. She hoped that the owner at least deserved that honor.

Not long after the rescue sound left her briefly, only allowing her body to experience warm feathers around her with the accompaniment of a cold gust of air through what was seemingly the only sense left. The air was probably Haunter, no doubt still in a tizzy about her near death experience. Becca could only hope he wasn’t scaring and causing problems for her saviors. The mischievous pokémon had a wicked sense of humor that she mostly agreed with, but now was definitely not the time for that.

Sight and sound flickered on and off at this point, giving her glimpses of the city or the feathers she snuggled into for warmth before blacking out again. At some point she managed to pass out completely, going still and silent for who knows how long before waking with a start almost immediately after.

Reflexively her body shot upright upon waking and instantly all she could feel was regret for the action. The room spun rapidly about her, not really picking a steady direction before slowing to a stop on a blue wall… a blue unfamiliar blue wall. Quickly she began to panic slightly, eyes darting about the room as if it would be the last time she saw anything of color before finally stopping on another pair of eyes. The large yellow and blue eyes watched her impassionately as she took in their stare, curiosity taking over here. She knew this pokémon as well… Well at she should know him. There were a few torchic and combusken back in Nacrene as well but none of them had evolved to this level yet, and it would be a while till they did.

She stared curiously back at the pokémon that watched her, letting a moment of silence fall between the two of them as she tried to recall the name and class. She couldn’t manage a thought though, because soon an uncomfortable, nauseous feeling took hold of her and before she could even move to get out of bed her stomach lurched and relieved itself of its contents and onto the floor below.

“Sorry,” she spoke up to the creature, too ashamed of herself to look at it again, “too much sea water.”

[Silvan Arrow]

Maikka heard soft noises and a girl’s voice speaking from the guest bedroom, telling her that her guest had finally regained consciousness. However, as she got closer to the door, a sudden gust of wind came out of nowhere and knocked the first aid kit from her hands. Maikka cried out in surprise and stumbled backwards, dropping the glass of water to shatter on the hardwood floor, as the translucent form of a Haunter materialized before her. Its ghostly face was contorted in anger as he hovered between her and the closed bedroom door.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Ifrit watched over the girl impassively as she regained consciousness and examined her surroundings. However, he was at a loss as to how to respond when she heaved up her stomach’s contents on the floor and promptly apologized. If it were Maikka in distress, he would have gone to her side, but caution around strangers that had been hard-wired into his brain kept him rooted in place. Just then, Maikka’s cry and the sound of shattering glass reached his ears, and he instantly whirled to face the door, his claws clenching into fists that ignited into flames. Now he was even more confused. Maikka had entrusted this girl to his care, which meant he had to protect her, yet his trainer had just cried out in fright. His head darted back and forth between his charge and the closed door in indecision.

Back in the hallway, one of the Pokeballs on Maikka’s belt shook almost as if in response to her distress and opened on its own to reveal Aquila. Somehow the little bird had figured out how to escape from his Pokeball on his own not long after Maikka had caught him. He was certainly a clever fellow like his other Rufflet and Braviary brethren and could be given to mischief every now and then by popping out unannounced. This time, however, Maikka couldn’t complain at her Pokemon’s antics as he hovered between Maikka and the Haunter and screeched angrily, sensing the potential danger.

By now Maikka had regained her composure. “Wait, Aquila,” she spoke calmly before addressing the Haunter. “You’re a friend of the girl in the bedroom, aren’t you?” The ghost Pokemon didn’t respond, but the subtle change in his expression told her that she had hit the nail on the head. “I know you want to protect her, but I promise, we’re just trying to help.” Slowly, ever so slowly, she knelt down to retrieve the first aid kit, keeping her eyes on Haunter the whole time while Aquila played bodyguard. Haunter twitched and tensed – or at least as much as was possible for a ghost – as she slowly opened the first aid kit and held it out so he could see the assortment of bandages and antiseptics inside. “See? I just want to treat her wounds and help her get better.” She kept her voice as calm and soothing as possible, hoping Haunter could hear the truth behind her words. “Will you please let me pass so I can help your friend?”

A puzzled look took over Haunter’s face as he hovered closer to inspect the contents of the first aid kit. A few stray wisps of air rustled some of the bandages and knocked a few of them to the ground. After a few moments, he simply vanished soundlessly without a trace. Maikka laughed nervously. “I…guess we passed his inspection, huh, Aquila?” The Rufflet chirped and perched on her shoulder before nuzzling her cheek possessively. Maikka quirked a sideways eyebrow at the bird and remarked, “I take it you’re not going back into your Pokeball quietly, are you?” Aquila dug his claws into Maikka’s shoulder stubbornly, chirped in defiance, and puffed out his chest to make himself look as large as possible, which was actually quite humorous considering his diminutive stature. He had the same fierce sense of pride that was a trademark amongst his brethren. “All right, I get it,” she said, scratching him under the chin with one finger. “But first I need to get another glass of water.”

As she and Aquila went back to the kitchen, Haunter’s sudden appearance in the hallway served as a painful reminder that those Pokemon smugglers might be looking for her after busting them to the cops, while the cops might be looking for the girl. Maikka released Volt from his Pokeball and instructed him, “Keep watch near the front door. Come get me if you hear sirens or anything else strange.” Volt growled his assent and trotted off to take his post while Maikka made her way to the guest bedroom for the second time. ‘Poor Ifrit must be in a tizzy after hearing me scream like that,’ she thought.

Maikka tapped the door lightly with her bare toes to announce herself before opening it and greeting the girl sitting on her bed with a welcoming smile, Aquila still firmly perched on her shoulder. “Oh good, you’re awake. I wasn’t sure when you would regain consciousness.” She looked down to notice the mess on the floor, quickly followed by the girl’s look of shame. Maikka chuckled in a nonthreatening manner. “Don’t worry about it. Looks like we’ve both seen better days, huh?” she said, indicating her torn, dirty business suit with a nod of her head. “I’m Dr. Maikka Daintree, but please call me Maikka. You’ve already met Ifrit,” she said, nodding to her Blaziken who had relaxed immensely upon seeing her alive and unhurt. “This little one is Aquila,” she nodded to her Rufflet, who chirped proudly and ruffled his feathers upon hearing his name. “My Manectric Volt is guarding the door in case those smugglers come back, and I’ll introduce you to Yakul once he’s had a chance to rest. I take it the Haunter I met in the hallway is a friend of yours?”

When the girl seemed reluctant to respond, Maikka slowly approached and placed the first aid kit on the foot of the bed and handed her the glass of water. “Here, drink some water if you can. You need to rehydrate after swallowing all that saltwater.” She opened the first aid kit. “Do you want me to have a look at your wounds, or would you rather do it while I find you something dry to wear?” She didn’t push the girl for her name or any information. Heaven knew she had enough to take in as it was. Instead, she switched to a different topic while she gathered some bandages and antiseptic from the first aid kit. “Later if you’re feeling up to it, you can come out into the backyard with me and meet Yakul. I need to hose him down before the saltwater soaks into his antlers, and I’m sure he’ll be glad to know that you’re safe.”

[Harper]

Amp and Roman woke early, and left their campsite without much word. They were near Nimbasa City, Roman heading for a train station outside the city. An old sentimental piece that still used combustion engines, the rail went from Nimbasa to Castelia, kept as a piece of history. At the time of its completion, it was the longest track in the world.

Now magnet rails dominated the landscape. Roman liked the train because it was left alone, visited less than a museum and only kept in place by tax dollars.

It was mid-morning when Roman spotted the train station, it was a few miles outside Nimbasa, on the southeastern side. There were three sets of cars there, two getting ready to depart for the morning trip to Castelia and a third off the track, with weeds growing between their wheels and its red paint chipping off across the sides. Roman and Amp circled around to the abandoned set of cars flanking the actual station, when he reached them he came upon a camp of squatters. Most of them older men who resembled Roman in dress and mannerism. There were four men in all, two played cards, using the floorboards of one of the cars as an improvised table. Another toyed with the coals of a fire and the fourth whittled a stick.

Roman stepped up to the fire and slipped off his pack. He nodded to the man across the fire, the oldest there with a knobby frame and a tangle of greying hair. “Morning Gregan.”

“Morning Roman, Amp. Come in for the papers?”

“Figured I would,” Roman said. Amp went to one the cars. Roman watched the ampharos touch one of the steels wheels, a jolt of electricity jumped off him and sparked the car.

Gregan shook his head. “He don’t need to be doin’ that here. The stiffs who run this train station won’t look the other way if they see sparks flyin’.”

“What do I do then, huh? Can’t bring him with me to the station,” Roman told the old man.

Gregan stared at the coals. “Should just lose the thing and be done with it. Beasts are only trouble.”

Roman glanced at Amp. The pokemon hopped into the abandoned cattle car and now watched Roman. He knew the typical drill when Roman went here.

“You know I can’t do that,” Roman said.

“Hah, say that every time, but I see the way you look at that thing. Like you’re afraid of upsetting a giant with a child’s mind, you just don’t want to get squished.”

Roman scowled at the man. The others ignored him. “Now I remember why I don’t stick around here. Amp! I’ll be back in a second, then we’re gone.”

Roman left the camp and slunk around the abandoned cars until he reached the station. A lazy crowd of travelers boarded the cars of the first train, a port-man announced they’d be leaving in twenty minutes. Roman snuck around to a small, self-dispensing newsstand. The paper on the glass display held a droll headline about legislation introduced to crack down on pokemon trafficking. Officials had been trying for years, but nothing came up. It was too profitable a business, and those making the money had connections everywhere to insure business boomed.

Below this was another headline, a gyarados got out in the Castelia dock. A shootout happened, the reports were unclear, two cops died, no one was apprehended. A Class V pokemon open in a metropolitan area was prompting a city wide investigation, officials said—

The report got cut off with the note, “Continued on A4.” Roman glowered, he hated papers for that. He didn’t care much for the report however, he could only piece together what it said, half the words went over his head. The only thing he could actually read with success were the funnies, and those were all he wanted.

Roman had been stealing papers from this machine for years. He pressed his knee into the front, set his hand on the top, and after a deep breath banged the top of it and knocked the nearest paper out of place. The smack almost always went unnoticed, not even the guards cared about petty newspaper theft. No one did, or so he thought.

“You there!”

[Skitzo-phrenick]

When the bird like pokémon started acting rather panicked, Becca tried to pay him no mind; knowing that if she bothered to dwell on what the scream just outside was and why her company set his claws on fire, she’d only be worried too. Instead she turned her gaze towards the only window in the room, trying to imagine where Haunter had gone to. She hoped the ghost wasn’t too furious with her at the danger she put herself in. Lord knew, he was just as big a thrill seeker as she was, but despite that he knew how to hold a grudge if she got hurt. She might have to woo his good spirits back with some sort of candy… if she could get her hands on it that is.

After hearing the soft tap on the door Becca’s attention snapped to it quickly. Unable to ignore the unease her current company was in, she couldn’t help but be infected by his panic and began to scurry about the bed for escape before lamely hiding under the covers with her eyes on the door.

The sight of the woman with another bird pokémon sitting comfortably on her shoulder eased her a bit, she wasn’t nearly as eased as the pokémon who had been watching her, but enough so she moved herself out of the covers to get a better lock at her. In admittance she was more curious about Rufflet than she was the woman, but that was only because the prideful looking bird seemed to demand attention, and at first appearance it looked rather stern. So when the woman spoke in a friendly matter it was a rather contrasting, not to mention amusing sight.

As soon as she noticed the woman was looking down at the mess she made once she woke up, Becca couldn’t help but squirm a little embarrassingly in place. She was slightly irritated by the chuckle that followed, but the words after that let the reaction be a bit more forgivable.

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman said, “Looks like we’ve both seen better days, huh?” Becca looked at her quizzically before her attention was drawn to the woman’s attire. How did that happen? Did the woman also jump into the water or trip and fall? At that train of thought Becca couldn’t help the frustrated groan that escaped her as she remembered her own state and bothered to glance at her clothes, wincing at the state of them. Her father was gonna kill her.

“I’m Dr. Maikka Daintree, but please call me Maikka. You’ve already met Ifrit.” Becca glanced curiously at the pokémon she had woken up to. Was that the name of that species? Funny, that didn’t sound familiar at all. “This little one is Aquila.” Okay, she knew that wasn’t the name of that pokémon. Rufflets were one of the few species Becca could easily identify, since they were common where she was from. The bird didn’t seem to mind the name though, so Becca only went along with it. It wasn’t till the last line that she seemed to gather what was going on.

“My manectric, Volt, is guarding the door in case those smugglers come back, and I’ll introduce you to Yakul once he’s had a chance to rest.” Oh, so these were names for the pokémon, personal names. She’d seen a few trainers do that, and still to this day she couldn’t understand why they would do that. Chances were the pokémon already had their own names. Why give them another?

“I take it the Haunter I met in the hallway is a friend of yours?” Haunter? So he was here then, but then why wasn’t he with her now? She guessed she could take that as proof he was angry with her… stupid spiteful pokémon.

Having zoned out at the mention of Haunter, Becca didn’t seem to notice Maikka moving to her side and instantly jumped at the nearness of her voice, her attention snapping to the woman once more. It wasn’t until she noticed the glass of whether that her mind bothered contemplating what she said.

Slowly the realization of just how thirsty she was crept in on her, and before Maikka could finish her next sentence Becca snatched the glass from her and downed it quickly. A sigh of satisfaction escaped her accompanied with a rather childish smile formed on her lips.

“…or would you rather do it while I find you something dry to wear?” Becca turned her attention back to the woman, watching as she brought attention to the first aid kit and began to gather bandages and antiseptics. “Later if you’re feeling up to it, you can come out into the backyard with me and meet Yakul. I need to hose him down before the salt water soaks into his antlers, and I’m sure he’ll be glad to know that you’re safe.” Ah… so Yakul must have been the pokémon who saved her.

At the idea of meeting him again and getting a chance to say thanks, Becca couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like that,” she answered. Due to the seawater and the early vomiting, her voice was rather scratchy, but she felt the sensation subsiding thanks to the glass of water she pretty much inhaled.

“If it’s alright with you, I think I would rather take a shower first,” she said tiredly, “I feel salt and sand in places I shouldn’t, and I’m sure I’m messing up your be—” A sneeze interrupted her words and she took a moment to wipe at her nose, sniffling a bit before continuing, “…bed.” She paused again to rub at her nose for a bit, only eliciting more sneezes before speaking up again.

“Did Haunter seem mad?”

[YenWen]

“Lovely day for a train ride, isn’t it?” A whistle blew, people rushed by, too busy or hurried to care who was around. They were black and grey coats in Madeline’s color.

“Oh, shut it, Harry. It’s not funny.” Madeline snapped at her escort.

Those for the nine A.M to Opelucid City may begin boarding on Platform 5

She was in no mood for this. Then again, she was never in the mood for anything involving Pokemon, even if it meant a pleasant olden-style train ride through the desert into Castelia City could not be enjoyed. It would be an even better time to hate it the entire way because it meant another battle with another gym leader and another badge. She’d wanted to put this off longer, stay at home and have small talk with other rich girls her age, but she’d already used three weeks up and it was time for her to leave. Father wouldn’t have her lounging and becoming depreciative of what she had.

The time is now eight forty-five A.M.

“You really should lighten up, Miss Madeline. Wrinkles from frowning all the time don’t suit someone your age.” Harold pestered Maddie often, especially on trips alone. It seemed the only way to get a decent conversation out of her, nowadays: to be spiteful. She huffed at him, taking the playful insult as a dear one. She really was still a child.

“I don’t know where you get off, Harry. And stop calling me Madeline. I’m not some old lady.” Her short heels clicked against the cobblestones newly placed for authenticity and there was a brief silence for a moment, before broken by the intercom.

Boarding for Opelucid City is now closed. Those on Platform 5 please move onto the next platform.

“Well at this rate, you’ll certainly look like one.” Maddie stopped in her tracks. A train whistle went off again. “What gives you the nerve to talk to me like that, Harry? I mean, really!” She set down the small suitcase she had in her hand and Harold did the same with her two larger ones. “Miss Madeline, I assure you I have many a nerve to speak to you like that. If you want to be considered an adult, you need to be willing to act like one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Those for the nine twenty A.M. to Lacunosa may begin boarding on Platform 2

“I think it’s fairly obvious, Miss Madeline, but if I must spell it out for you, you are a brat. A spoiled child who can’t care for anyone’s wellbeing but your own.”

“That’s a lie! You’re lying!”

Harold laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, now, Miss Madeline. Let’s get you on the train and into Castelia.” Madeline didn’t move, her arms folded across her chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I prove I’m the nicest person around here!”

The time is now nine ten A.M.

Harold sniggered, before bursting into a full laugh. “Alright then, Miss Madeline, go on then.”

Madeline dropped her arms, turning around in circles, looking for something, anything to prove her right. It seemed something had been listening to her, because her opportunity shown before her in all its filthy glory, face pressed to a newspaper dispenser.

“You there!” she shouted across the platform. “You, the one who looks like a hobo! Come here!” she waved her arms towards the man, trying to get his attention. She looked over her shoulder to Harold. “Harry, find some clothes for him. There’s got to be a gift shop nearby that has those sorts of things.”

“Miss Madeline, I don’t think it’s very appropriate to do this, especially when we should be getting on the train.”

“Harry, we have plenty of time. Now, unless you’d like to be out of the job, I suggest you do as I asked.” She giggled, turning back to face the hobo. “That’s right, you there! Come here!”

Boarding for Lacunosa is now closed. Those on platform 2 please move onto the next platform

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