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Masterpost

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Two worlds, one story — and standing on the ash left by both are prodigal engineer Mathew Walker and teenage amnesiac Joey Johdaile. What starts as an innocuous trash-cleaning job doubling as their initiation into a mysterious organization rapidly spirals into something greater…and soon, they and their friends find themselves deciding the fate of both worlds.

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Double-Edged
By LukerUpgradez, DommyMcDoodle, and PaperCutz

Double-Edged cover (Main Four).png

This is a fic I've been working on with two friends of mine since 2018, first as an RP and now as a fic! Those of you who stalk fanfiction.net might recognize this story. We're finally back with a full-blown reboot, and we're excited to bring this fic to these forums, too!
This story is rated T for foul language, intense themes, graphic violence, potentially political material, and some occasional character death. Read at your own discretion!

 
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Prologue

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Prologue: The Light
Oh, how Mathew missed when the street lights would illuminate his yard. He tried to fix them himself, but the harvesters always worked faster. Now, the only thing exposing the looters in his yard was the glow of the moon.

He peered down at the two. Mathew didn't have to know who they were to know what they were here for. How pathetic…but also, how dreadful. That feeling was what kept him there, unmoving, watching.

The mechanical parts of his home's defender whirred and stirred outside, and just as swiftly as the marauders had arrived, they vanished into the night. Buttons made sure no cowards like them would ever step foot in his house. Watching the titan of a machine succeed brought a wave of euphoria. Victory.

It didn't last long.

The moment Mathew threw himself back into bed, he knew sleep was far off. He tossed and turned, but no comfort came. It never would. Many months had passed since this room, now nearly barren besides the bed and a lone dresser, had given him comfort.

His own mind was not much better. Every pursuit of peace of mind was drowned out by his many turmoils and regrets. The flood was unending.

He turned his exhausted body to face the other side of his room. There was nothing there… Big mistake. He was already welling up with tears. Damnit. Now he needed something to drown it all out.

Careful not to wake anyone else, he tiptoed to the kitchen. There was plenty of food lying around that he could munch on to fill in the empty space where sleep should go. Or perhaps he could drink the night away. That'd be easy. Nice, even. Slowly, he reached for the refrigerator door and—

Mathew turned around only to find himself blinded by a giant ball of searing heat and energy right in front of him. "Greetings," a voice boomed in his head.

The light was so overwhelming. "What the hell…" His back slid against the door until he was sitting on the wooden floor. In the blink of an eye, he had reached into into a drawer and pulled a knife on the light. "Get back! I-I'm not ready to go!"

The gleam of the ball dimmed, as if to quell his panic. "Do not fear, for I have not come to bring harm to you. Quite the opposite, in fact."

He understood what this was now. Rather than suppress them with gluttonous coping methods, his brain had decided to counter his overwhelming feelings with an equally overwhelming dosage of lunacy. Maybe the looters had gotten in and tampered with the air? No, this had to be something else. "Let me guess," he said, dropping the weapon. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

The floating ball of energy shook around as though it had a visible head. "I can assure you, I am no Grim Reaper. Rather, I am speaking to you from another dimension. Have you, by any chance, heard of Pokémon?"

Mathew squinted at the light. "That's...a question. I've played a few games before, yeah. What about them?"

"In my world, pokémon are real, living creatures."

He stared at him for several seconds. Then, he burst into laughter. "Hah! Really? I've dreamed up a magic light preaching to me about alternate dimensions where creatures a corporation made up live? I really didn't think I'd gone this crazy yet."

The voice in his head sighed. "Still don't believe I'm real? Take this."

A thick, three-ring bright blue binder slapped Mathew square in the face. He stared at the gift in his lap in awe. He certainly wasn't dead or a loon… What did that make him now?

"In this binder," the voice explained as he studied it, "are blueprints. These blueprints are for a portal generation device designed to allow you to create a rip in this universe and jump into another. This rip will allow to venture into my world: Solceus."

Inside, various papers filled its rings, showing every angle inside and out of this seven-foot, circular device. No easy project, that's for sure. "And you expect me to make this how, exactly?"

"There is no need to play coy," the light told him. "I know very well about your talents. At the time of your youth, the possibility of crafting such a thing may have once held doubt. But this is twenty sixty four! Your skills and funds, combined with these blueprints, are all you will need to assemble the right parts."

Mathew couldn't deny any of the praise he gave. For a brief moment, that gave him confidence, and he considered that maybe this light coming into his life wasn't so bad. Still, he remained skeptical. "Okay, but what's in it for me?" he asked. "I've already got clients bleeding me dry here."

"Don't you see the world you're living in? How miserable it is?"

He slouched against the cold refrigerator door, chilling his spine. "Yeah. It's twenty sixty four," he mocked. "You're screwed, I'm screwed, the planet's screwed, it's the goddamn apocalypse. What about it?"

"You can use this gateway into my world to escape. Start again. And in return, all we will ask for is your presence and assistance."

We… Mathew still had doubts about this miraculous encounter, but this idea gave him a warm but foreign feeling he could no longer deny. Was this...hope? He wanted it to be hope. "Well, it's worth a try, at least," he conceded.

"Excellent!" The light was enthused, as if this was a bigger occasion for him than it was for Mathew. "Now, before I part, I should mention that going to this dimension will turn you into a pokémon as well, but I'm sure you can live with that, can't you?"

"Wait, hang on. What should I do about my s—?"

"Good," the voice interrupted. "Until we meet again." With that, the ball of light slowly shrunk into nothing, leaving him to rub his eyes and adjust back into the night. No longer blinded, Mathew got a long look at what the blueprints had to say. At the bottom of each diagram, essay, and graph, the page was signed with a pair of initials written in white: D.E.

Satisfied, he closed the binder and made for another room. He was going to sound insane, but he had to tell him the good news.

Eight months. Eight long, grueling months were what it had taken to construct this mechanical masterwork. It looked miserable, barely matching the blueprints' design and hardly fitting in his workshop, but it was done. He hoped.

Mathew spent a solid two minutes praying for it to work. He was desperate now. Ever since that chance meeting, he had wanted nothing more than to meet the light and whoever this D.E. was and finally free himself from this nightmare.

After he finished bargaining his soul, he decided it was time. Slowly, he pressed the button on the side. Tiny streaks of sparks danced across the ends of the circular machine. He stepped away, fearing an explosion.

There was no explosion, however. Instead, the very air began to tear away. In his past attempts, the black rip would shrink into nothing, but here, it kept growing until it met with the portal's frame. It was stable enough that he could simply walk through it now.

"Yes!" Mathew shouted in blissful joy. It was done! He could finally leave this awful Earth! With that out of the way, he could begin preparations. First order of business: change into a business suit, complete with a burgundy polka-dotted tie. Although he'd been given numbers to punch in, he didn't know where they led. He'd rather arrive looking too formal than too casual.

Next, he searched his house up and down, making sure he had everything he wanted for his potentially permanent vacation. The unfinished Wormhole Wristlet? Take! An emergency lunch? Take! That scrapbook on the shelf? Uh…well…he'd regret it later if he didn't take it. And how could he leave behind his computer?! Thank God that his backpack could store it all.

Huh. I wonder what Solceans worship? he thought.. Don't they have, what's his name...Arceus? He shrugged it off for now. He'd get those answers soon enough.

Throwing the backpack into the corner for the moment, Mathew went over his plans one last time. He had all that he could want, except…except for…

No, no. He couldn't think about that. It was an awful loss — the hardest part of these eight months — but there was nothing he could do about it now. Well, nothing other than finishing their task.

He grabbed his backpack, rubbed his chin for a moment — this might be the last time he'd have a beard — and then stepped into the rip.
 
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Chapter 1

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 1: The Man and the Boy
Water is an essential part of human survival. Whole civilizations have built their foundations on rivers and coastlines, tying their fates together. Even in the distant lands of the western frontier, desert-trotters with brimmed hats, roped lassos, and bold horses would survive on canteens and waterholes. So, when water sources are endangered from ignorance, overuse, and abuse, it's only natural that next to go is—

CRASH!


The boy was slammed by a wrathful wave. He tumbled across the damp sand, scraping his arms, his legs, and his whatever-that-was. Bitter salt water filled his odd-feeling throat, making him cough and spit as he fumbled his way onto his feet.

He whipped his head around, trying to get his bearings. Why had he been drifting off this close to the ocean? The tide must have come up and tried to pull him in. Shouldn't he know better than to test the Earth's lifeline?

On that subject, why was he alone at a beach in the first place? And a beach this dirty, too. There were bags, boxes, cans, shards of plastic, and loose paper prints with unfamiliar logos on them strewn around everywhere. He could only imagine what hid beneath that layer of bright blue going out endlessly until it met with the sky. Beautiful as it was, it surely concealed all sorts of its own pollution that put marine life in danger and how the heck do I know all this?

The boy took a step away from the shoreline and turned inwards. Now that he thought about it, he had no recollection of where he had learned all these things about water. He just…knew was staring at a list of facts with nothing to attach them to.

What did he remember, then?

My name is Joey Johdaile.

Okay… What else?

I am sixteen years old.

Good. What was he doing before he woke up?



Where does he live? What school does he go to? What are the names of his friends?



Where were his parents?



Who were his parents?



…Well, ain't that a problem.

Joey began heaving as nerves set in. He was alone, an amnesiac, stranded on a beach with no person or ship in sight, and what the heck was wrong with his face? He thought it was just dizziness from the saltwater at first, but this was something else entirely. The puffing of his mouth was so far away from his eyes, and the air in his nose felt like it was moving sideways? And what was that when he tried crossing his eyes? It was way too long to be a nose…and blue. His hands, if that's what you'd call such thick, nubby things, were that same light shade of blue. Wiggling his digits felt natural, but so off, as if he was—

Wait.

Joey slowly opened his mouth. The thing in his crossed peripheral raised.

That's not a mouth. That's a maw. A crocodilian maw!

Now Joey was on a whole new level of dread. On top of it all, he couldn't even call himself human now! That was the last straw. He needed to figure out what exactly was going here.

Grumble…

…and he needed to do it fast.

With his little legs, Joey hustled through large stalks of grass, approaching a forest that was sadly devoid of palm trees. A sea of trees. Maybe he could see some people around if he was higher up?

But before he could get any closer, Joey's foot struck a green cowboy hat with a white knitted brim. It wasn't buried into the sand like the rest of the garbage — this got here recently. Curious, Joey picked it up, holding the inside to his eyes. Awaiting him was a note.

Don't forget.

JJ and MW


"JJ". Was this hat…his? Joey carefully fitted it on, letting the rope strap wrapping under his maw keep it in place above his eyes. Even if a crocodile didn't have skin to burn, protecting his eyes from the late-morning sun was a good bonus — if it wasn't his before, it was now.

Joey pressed on, trudging through the dense brush as best he could. He got to the top and…huh?

He gawked at the sight. Was that another animal, sprawled out in front of him? He raced to their side, trying to get a look at them. This brown reptile didn't resemble any animal Joey could think of. Over their head was a skull mask with a nasty, exposing crack on its right side. From his steady breathing, Joey could conclude that they were alive — from the burgundy tie on their neck and the gold ring on his 'thumb', sapient. Next to them was a long, slender bone club, one end blunt, the other sharp. What was this fellow doing wearing and carrying bones?

There wasn't another soul in sight. This animal was all that Joey had to go off of. He bent down and began shaking them. "Uh, mister?" he guessed. "Are you okay? Mister?!"

Shaking. He was shaking. Something was on top of him. He was going to die. He was going to get eaten. Fight. Fight fight fight

"Get off!" Mathew reached around for something to grab and, once he found something, started smacking the blue beast with it.

"Woah! Ow, ow, ow!" The hat-wearing pokémon, which he recognized as a totodile, stumbled backwards.

Mathew rose up to run — and he fell. He stood again, walked — tripped. His vision was slightly limited by...a snout? A helmet? What was that?

"Where the heck are you going?!" the totodile exclaimed behind him.

"Away from y—shit!" This time, he fell straight into the side of a tree, smacking his hip against the bark. A few leaves gently glided down and landed on him.

"Mister!" Before he knew it, the totodile's shadow was overtop of his aching body. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to get you more spooked than a girl at a graveyard." A blue hand lowered down to him. "Are you okay?"

"Does it look like it…?" Mathew groaned, seizing his arm and pulling himself up. The totodile pulled him to his feet, giving him a moment to get accustomed to this off-kilter feeling. He glanced around, finding an empty forest on his right and an empty beach on his left.

"You ain't got any reason to be scared of me, you know." The totodile smiled at him. "I was just trying to wake you up."

Mathew felt weary at the sight of his maw, loaded up with sharp teeth, but he supposed that this pokémon probably couldn't help how those looked. "Okay, well that's good. I thought you were gonna eat me alive or something!" he gave a lighthearted chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mister, I need you to ask you some questions. But before that…" The totodile picked something up off of the ground and put it in his hands. "You dropped this when you fell. This is yours, right?"

"Uh…" He looked down at the object. It was a—

a—

"Absolutely not." He tossed the slender bone club into the woods. It hurled through the air a lot farther than he anticipated.

The totodile stepped away in surprise. "But it was right next to you! And it's bone, like your mask!"

"Mask?" Mathew finally realized that he was no longer the man — he was the cubone. He rubbed his hands around his body, feeling out the damage. His burgundy tie was still around his neck, and his ring had somehow gotten onto his weird thumb-thing, but the rest of his clothes were gone, leaving only this new mask. He found a crack in it where his scaly skin was exposed on the right side. "What kind of sick joke is this? Cubone. Of course I'm a—huh?"

He felt something graze against his leg. It was the bone club again. It came back…? He tested it again, throwing it out as far as he could. After a few seconds, it rolled through the bushes and over the roots, until finally stopping at his clawed feet.

"Woah…" Joey watched this supernatural feat in awe.

Mathew just tried to shrug it off. Pokémon were magic, anyway — what more was a magic bone? Things were probably going to be weird like that here. He'd get used to it…hopefully. It was the least this world could do to compensate taking away his stylish suit, his well-treated pants, and oh god where was his backpack?

Instantly, he leapt for the ground, pushing his way through the flora with the same energy as his bone club had given before. There were too many things in that backpack for it to just have disappeared! If the powers that be had let him keep his tie, surely they'd have let him keep his essential belongings! Please, at least let him keep his scrapbook—

Behind him, Mathew heard the totodile chuckle. "You're hounding that ground closer than a dog playing fetch!" He paused, mulling over that remark. "Well, you do have a bone…"

As demeaning as it might've been to get compared to a dog, Mathew laughed a little too. This totodile's comments were weirdly nostalgic. It was good to remember that he wasn't alone in these woods. "Hey, I brought a backpack with me. Brown, leather, has a dozen pockets… There's some really important stuff in there. Like food. Can you help me look?"

"You have food?!" Already, the totodile was squatting down, seeming confident. "Alright. I reckon that, with two of us looking, we'll find it real quick!"

They did not find it real quick. Minutes passed with only the sound of the rushing waves and the blowing wind to accompany them. The two exhausted every inch of the area with careful eyes. When the forest proved no results, they went out onto the beach. Turned out there was all sorts of trash out there to rummage through… Still, nothing turned up that even resembled his belongings.

When the two of them regrouped where he had woken up, Mathew collapsed in defeat. "Damnit… Couldn't they have dropped me somewhere other than the middle of nowhere?"

The totodile looked down at him curiously. "Dropped you?"

"Oh." It hit Mathew that this stranger had wanted to ask him questions and he'd just spent the past fifteen minutes blowing him off. "Sorry. I should really explain myself." He turned himself over into a sitting position. "Name's Mathew. Mathew Walker. I'm an engineer for all sorts of things, and I'm good at selling them to an audience, too. To make a really long story short, I was given the instructions to build something that would…send me here. But they didn't tell me what 'here' actually was." He gave a sweeping look around. "I thought it'd be, like, their headquarters or something."

"So a machine brought you here?" The totodile sat down next to Mathew. "Is that what happened to me…?"

"You don't know?"

"No. I woke up on the beach over there a bit ago as this weird crocodile-man." He pointed at his belly. "I can't remember anything before that besides my name, my age, and some other things. I could tell you two plus two is four, but you ain't gonna get the name of my kindergarten teacher out of me…"

So he was another former human with some kind of amnesia, then? Mathew suddenly felt a lot more sympathy for this stranger. "Damn, that's awful! I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat if it meant you remembered who you were."

"I dunno know about that. This is about as fun as a sabertooth tiger tearing you a new one!"

Mathew couldn't keep himself from laughing at that one, too. It reminded him of slightly better days, back when his friend's son would come to visit. It was like he'd come back to him in the form of a totodile. "Well, I appreciate you putting that on hold to help me out! Makes me a feel a little less, uh, bonely." He spun the club between his mitt-like hands.

The totodile squinted at him. "You can do better than that," he graveled. "I know it."

"Hey, I'm working with new material here!" Mathew retorted. "I gotta stretch the puncles out. I'm a cubone, you're a totodile… What's your name, by the way? I need to find a good pun to make of it."

He leaned back, looking comfortable. "It's Joey!"

All comedy Mathew had been planning stopped dead in its tracks. "...What?"

"Joey," he repeated, looked to him nervously. "Did I say something wr—"

"Give me your hat." He thrust a hand forward. "I need to look at it for a minute."

"Okay?" Joey slowly, awkwardly pulled it off his head and handed it to him. Mathew turned it over.

Don't forget.

JJ and MW


When Mathew thought Joey had come back to him, that was supposed to be metaphorical. Evidently, it was literal. "Joey Johdaile," he mumbled in amazement. "What the hell are you doing here…?"

"How do you know my last name?!" When the realization hit Joey, he gawked at Mathew. "Oh. You know me. From when I was human."

Mathew rose, handing Joey his hat to put back on. "It's been more than a year since…" He was reminded of the last place he had seen Joey and had a horrible realization. "Shit, if you're here, then where the hell are Greg and Cathy?!" He began pacing around. "Did they get visited too? But there's no way they could build a portal on their own! But they're not here, Joey is, but Joey doesn't have his memories, and—"

"Mathew." Joey rested a shoulder on him, and that took him out of his panic. "What's going on here? I don't remember a thing about who I am. Can you fill me in?"

"Well, your parents are named Greg and Catherine. They're family friends, and…" Mathew felt his throat constrict. The only way he could tell Joey about himself is if Mathew told him the full story. That meant he'd have to tell him about that, and about that, and about that.

He couldn't do this. Not now. He just couldn't.

"That's…all…I can tell you."

"Can?" Joey said. "You mean you know more? Why the heck did you stop?"

Mathew desperately racked his brain for a way to explain this lightly to Joey. "Have you ever ripped off a bandage really slowly?"

The totodile looked at Mathew as if he was a dunce. "If I have, I ain't remembering that anytime soon."

"Ah, right." Mathew sighed, backing away from Joey. "Listen, Joey, I do want to tell you, but I just…" Despite it being a warm morning, he felt himself shiver. "Besides, we shouldn't do this while we're in the middle of nowhere, and I need to find the people who brought me here, and it was already hard enough when—"

"Well, we ain't doing anything but sitting around right now, are we?" Joey pointed out, raising his voice. "These all sound like some real thin excuses to me. Could you at least tell me why you can't tell me?"

"No! That defeats the whole point!" Mathew snapped back. He immediately regretted it when he saw Joey falter for a moment, taken aback by Mathew's volume. "…Sorry."

The totodile seemed even more miffed. He whirled around, taking his gaze away from Mathew. "You've got the memories. I already tried to help you you with your problem today. If you're really sorry, then you should go ahead and just—" As he looked upwards, he went silent, and the anger in his tone dissipated. "Hey. I found your backpack."

"What?" Mathew pointed his snout to the sky, and… "Oh you've got to be kidding me. What is it doing up there?!"

Joey was right. All along, the backpack had been high over their heads, dangling from some high-reaching branches in a nearby tree. The layer of leaves made it hard to see at a glance, but Mathew could see the straps blowing in the wind and the strain it was putting on the branches. How could it have ended up there if Mathew had awoken on the ground? Had he fallen from the sky or something?

Joey played with the brim of his hat before straightening his stance. "Well, how about I give you a good reason to talk. You wanna know a fun fact about crocodiles, Mathew?" Before he could answer, Joey stomped up to the base of his backpack's holder. "They can climb trees!" He leapt towards it and grasped the bark, clinging on tight.

"Wait, what?!" Mathew's agitation gave way to panic. He ran up to the tree as Joey shimmied his way up. "Slow down! If you drop the backpack from that high up, you could break something in it!"

"Figure something out, then!" Joey called back, not slowing down. "You said you're an engineer! I reckon you can think of something quick!"

"I could make a cushion or something, but I'd need actual parts for it!"

"Well get sear—"

Splat.

A ball of water, like a water balloon with no balloon, burst against Joey. He cried out as he was knocked away.

"Joey!"

He hit the ground right on his back. Mathew could hear the sharp gasp of breath when Joey's maw opened wide.

Some droplets from the ball landed on his arm. He winced in pain, his scaly skin stinging at the point of contact. This wasn't normal water — the shoreline hadn't done this to his legs.

Someone was responsible for hurting Joey. "Who did that?!"

Answering his call, two birds leapt from a nest in the tree and glided down towards them. Both were white with blue highlights on their wings and tail feathers. A "Screeeeeeeeeeee!" emanated from their orange bills tipped by black.

Mathew was intimately familiar with the species — they were a huge nuisance in the beach areas of the McDonald's crossover. Wingull.

"This is our tree, so buzz off!" one called.

"Yeah! You loud-mouths buzz off! Screeeeeeeee!" said the other. Both of their words were as shrill as their squawks.

Mathew slowly approached the prone totodile as the wingull flew around in wide circles, weaving through the trees like they were nothing. "You assholes… All Joey wanted is that leather thing that's in your tree! All you have to do it let us take it back and we'd leave you alone."

"That thing is also ours!" one of them exclaimed. "Screeeeeeeee!"

The audacity… Mathew was new to this world, so he was willing to give these birds one last chance. Only one. "You can't just claim something that fell out of the sky is yours because it landed in your tree," he said firmly. "It belongs to me."

One of the wingull looked down upon him. "Fell? Fell? Screeeeeeeeee!"

"It was a gift and you can't have it!" the other said. "So can it, bonehead!"

"Bonehead! Bonehead!" they both cried, cackling to themselves.

The cubone clenched his teeth. They were sticking to their guns, then. That made them thieves.

He felt his grip around the club — his club — twitch.

"Listen here you little shits!" he yelled, swinging it out. "If you don't give me my stuff back, I will knock you out of the air, pluck every feather out of your sorry asses, and sell them back to you at an inflated price!"

"Screeee, screeee! Those are some fighting words for a bonehead!" one wingull said.

"Yeah! Let's see if he can back those up!" The other wingull turned and dived down. His wingtips glowed, leaving a trail as he headed straight for Joey's body.

"Damnit!" Mathew ran over and blocked Joey's body using his own. Like a scene straight from an Alfred Hitchcock movie, the birds slashed and cut at his back using empowered wings. Mathew was amazed he couldn't feel any blood in those wounds.

One of them fired another splash grenade directly at Mathew's back. Mathew howled in pain at the splatter. It was like a furious acid was burning away his scales. His knees trembled, but he couldn't afford to fall. Joey was only now catching his breath again. His eyes expressed something between horrified and apologetic.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mathew saw one preparing a third. He was aiming at his mask-helmed head, which hardly protected Joey. He threw himself forward in a dive, nearly smashing the snout of his mask into the dirt. Direct hit, this time closer to his hip. That was almost enough to make him pass out. He couldn't even stand anymore, collapsing atop Joey.

Joey, reanimated after having the wind kicked out of him, pulled himself out of the pile and charged. But then, something sizzled through the air, and one of the wingull yelped. Mathew picked up the scent of that wingull's singed feathers. Then, in his fading vision, he saw something reach out for his hand. Joey? No, that wasn't him. This hand was darker. Sleeker. Fluffier?

It wasn't a hand at all. It was a wing.

Mathew grasped the wing, and with a logic-defyingly strong grip, it brought him out of the dirt. Another wing reached around and held him steady. The cubone was met with a pair of red eyes. This wasn't a species he recognized. Its coat of feathers was a dark blue, almost navy, highlighted with red on the insides of the wings and the tips of its broom-like tail. Atop its head was a large, hat-like thing. A raven, maybe?

"C-Can you stand…?" She seemed to immediately regret asking the obvious, shaking her head and chastising herself under her breath. Without waiting for an answer, she offered him a blue fruit with a spotty texture. An oran berry, if he remembered right. "Eat this and…let us h-handle it, okay?" she gently ordered.

Mathew immediately bit down on it. In seconds, he felt rejuvenated, and the pain from the slashes and the splashes began to fade. He pushed away from her, eagerly downing the rest of the fruit as he walked.

The tide of the fight had taken a turn. The wingull's cocky tones were replaced by panicked screeches, weaving through branches and leaves to keep cover on themselves. Both of them were carefully trying to avoid the electric shocks of their other rescuer — a pikachu wearing brown goggles over his eyes and a pink bandana with a pattern of white flowers over his head. Despite having the birds on the ropes, he seemed more disgruntled than anything.

"Seriously, what do they get out of plopping the new recruits out here?" he mumbled to himself as his next strike blackened the bark of one of the trees. "We could've just had them jump on the job right away, but nooooo, let's make them fight wingull first instead…"

"Screeeee! This isn't your fight, rat—" one of the wingull could hardly belt out a retort before the raven leapt up into the air and tackled him to the ground. The pair broke out into a heated scuffle, slashing at one another as if their glowing wings were blades. The wingull fought with reckless abandon, lunging at weak points any time he saw them. The raven, however, moved with near-perfect precision, teasing openings, dodging, and then sucker punching him every time he fell for it.

Mathew was mesmerized by the raven. He didn't have to know much about swordplay — wingplay? — to see her mastery. It looked like it was effortless for her, too. Her soft gaze was now flat and expressionless, as if she wasn't even present in the moment.

"I reckon you should be all steady now."

Mathew turned away from the fight at the sound of Joey's voice. The totodile was some distance away from the fight, crouching down and propping up…something. It was green spherical object with a wheel at its bottom, a single arm that looked straight from a claw machine at its side, and an antenna with a red ball at its top. This didn't look like any pokémon he knew. Was this some kind of robot?

"Thank you." The robot's voice, coming from within, was monotone and artificial. As he rolled away from Joey, Mathew could hear whirring, and the ball began to glow. "Unlike some others, I'm not one for theatrics. Allow me to get straight to the point."

In an instant, a ray of light, sparkling like a gem, blasted from the robot's ball, shooting straight past Mathew and into the wingull the raven was fighting. The laser blasted him into a nearby tree, knocking him out instantly. The raven leapt back in surprise.

"That's revenge for knocking me over. And for screeching."

The other wingull wailed. With a burst of wind, he soared through the air straight towards the robot, abandoning all cover. That was a mistake — the pikachu shot him out of the sky with a ball of electricity. He crashed to the ground right at Mathew's feet.

He was still conscious. The fried bird's eyes were still open, slowly rising to meet Mathew's eyes. "S… Scrrrreeeeee—"

Wham. Mathew shut the wingull up with his club. He splayed out, unconscious.

The thieves were done. They wouldn't cause him or Joey anymore harm, and they'd gotten harmed in return. The thought of that satisfied him.

Karmic justice.

When the pikachu turned to Mathew and Joey, his disgruntlement faded, and he met them with a wide grin. "Whew! Sorry for being late to the party. If we knew you were battling birds, we'd have hurried up to come flip them for you." He beckoned Mathew to approach. "I'm Jermy. You must be Mathew, right?"

"Yeah, that's me." The cubone stepped over the singed wingull as he came up to him. "Nice to meet you, Jeremy."

"It's Jermy."

Mathew snickered a bit. When he was met with silence, regret followed. "…Oh, I'm sorry."

"Thanks for coming to save us!" Joey exclaimed. "Y'all made it look real easy."

"I w-wouldn't say we're all that great, but...we did get the job done," the raven said. "M-My name's Demurke. I'm a…murkrow, in case you didn't know! It's nice to m-meet you both."

Murkrow. A crow? One step below a raven, Mathew supposed. "What about you?" he asked the robot.

"I made him a couple years ago," Jermy explained. "His name is—"

"I can introduce myself," he interrupted. "I am the Observational Recreation Buddy, abbreviated ORB, version 5.1. I serve a variety of novel assistive purposes, including, but not limited to, robotic design analysis." He turned to face his round glass screen, the closest thing he had to an eye, towards Jermy. "For example: imagine being on version 5.1 and still designing me like a fat man on a unicycle."

"…It's cheap!" Jermy flung his little arms out.

"Not to mention ridiculous." ORB focused on Mathew and Joey again. "I am equipped with a small pool of moves to help in a fight, but due to my brittle design, don't expect me to take a hit. I can also track your life force, AKA aura, if you ever get lost. Most importantly, I have access to all information available on Earth's Wikipedia up to the year 2061."

All of Wikipedia?! That was a lot of data to have on-hand in such a small robot, even while compressed. "Damn, impressive for a robot on a budget."

Joey suddenly erupted into excitement. "Can you look up Joey Johdaile?!"

ORB went silent for a couple seconds. "Nice try," he said. "Apparently nobody thought to put you on Wikipedia."

The totodile slouched over. "Aw."

Why was Joey—Oh, right. He almost forgot what they had been doing before this. "Hey, Demurke, can you fly up and get that backpack for me?" Mathew pointed upward towards the backpack.

Demurke looked baffled. "I-Is that your stuff? How did it get up there…?"

"We ain't sure, either," Joey said. "I was trying to climb up the tree for it when those seagulls attacked us."

"That s-sounds about right." Demurke spread out her wings. "I'll go get it for you." A light wind coursed beneath the wings, and with a jump, she took flight. With concise, simple wingbeats, she rose to the backpack's level. She picked up the thing with her talons. The weight of his stuff pulled her towards the ground, but she fought back, giving the backpack a smooth landing.

"There we go!" Mathew promptly grabbed onto it — now that he was much smaller, he stood no chance of wearing it on his back — and dug out a brown paper bag. "I brought some food with me!"

"Huh. We were gonna walk and talk, but…" Jermy peered at the bag in interest.

"That's fine! We can eat as we go." As long as they were on the move, Mathew didn't mind to split his attention.

It was hard to split the contents of the little brown paper bag across four small animals, but before they got moving, they managed. Joey got a chicken leg the size of a baseball bat to chew on, Demurke got a simple salad, Jermy received borgar, and Mathew…well, he got perfection packed in a plastic baggie.

Relief! At first bite, the gooey goodness of peanut butter coated the tops, bottoms, and middles of his mouth. He didn't care that his hand was covered in it, too — the small meal made his elongated mouth and throat so much easier to get used to.

"Um…" Demurke peered back at him as he divided his attention between dragging his backpack and experiencing his ecstasy. "Did you...put p-peanut butter on both sides of the bread?"

"Donmmm fucmmmg judmmmge!" Mathew took a second to swallow. "Look, I had a lot of peanut butter and I didn't want to waste it. Anyway, you guys wanted to talk about something?"

"Right." Jermy's tone darkened a little bit as he finished borgar. "So, as you might've already figured out, we work for the company that brought both of you here to Solceus. We call ourselves the Scientific Activity and Engagement Society, or SEAS for short. The two of us are here to help you with being recruited into the company."

"Both of us?" Joey noted. "So y'all are the ones who brought me here without my memories?"

"Unfortunately, m-most people from Earth in SEAS…don't have their memories from before arriving on Solceus," Demurke explained. "There's n-no way we could…bring everyone h-here in secret and keep all of their m-memories. It's no good, but…it's a s-sacrifice we've gotta make to s-save the world."

That one point told Mathew a lot about what he was getting into. It sounded like this 'SEAS' company had big ambitions — ones that aligned with his own. Still, making their members mostly amnesiac was kind of a dick move, especially when… "I still have my memories. Couldn't you have done the same for everyone else?"

"You're a bit of a special case!" Jermy said. "Because you were able to build a portal where you live, you could easily afford to keep your memories! You're actually the whole reason I'm here, and not just Demurke."

Next to Mathew, Joey was walking in silence. His hat tipped down to cover his eyes. "So, it's because…"

"I-I'm sorry, Joey." Demurke moved over to give him a pat on the back. "We're t-trying to work on everyone's memories, but…well…" she struggled to find the words. "If it m-makes you feel better, we a-always make sure to tell people the goals and…risks before sending th-them to join us. You k-know what they told you about Pokémon, right?"

"Well…" Joey began to ponder. "They're a big franchise on Earth. And they're all about these fictional animals that know how to fight. It's…not like Solceus? I dunno how, though."

"G-Good! That means—"

Joey kept going. "And one of them is a totodile. A blue crocodile-man…like me. And it becomes a bigger crocodile-man called a croconaw, and an even bigger crocodile-man called a feraligatr."

Demurke seemed just as surprised. "Wow! I g-guess we…really outdid ourselves, then."

How did Joey know that much about totodiles? Neither him nor his parents had been gamers the last he'd seen them, Mathew was sure. It's not like totodile was a particularly popular starter…

Mathew's confusion gave way when he noticed that Joey looked even more depressed than before. "All this, and I still don't know a darn thing about my parents."

The cubone could only look to him in sympathy. If only there was some way for him to help without… Wait a second! "Guys, stop for a minute." He paused their walk to unzip the largest flap of his backpack. He dug through it until he pulled out something rectangular. The baby blue scrapbook was still in good condition, although it was still missing a photo for the plastic cover sleeve. "I can't tell you more myself…but I can show you this." He flipped to a particular page and handed it to Joey.

"Oh!" Joey's eyes lit up. The photo Mathew had flipped to featured three people — a brown-eyed boy wearing a cowboy outfit next to a slender man wearing a vest and a well-rounded woman wearing a labcoat. A banner reading "Happy Halloween" ran along a wall in the background. "Is this…?"

"Yep! That's you, Greg, and Cathy! It's not much, but at least you know what they look like now. Does that make you feel any better?"

Joey paused before giving a crooked nod. "I reckon it does a little."

"And h-hey!" Demurke was eagerly studying the photo herself. "If you're here, maybe…your mom and dad are here too? Whenever I g-get some time freed up, I'll go and ask around to see if a-anybody knows them."

"That would be real great!" This seemed to be enough for Joey at the moment. Mathew couldn't be happier.

Jermy had been watching this without saying a word. When the cubone looked to him, he was rubbing his head, and his ears were pointing straight. "Anyway…uh…well…"

"What this pikachu-shaped bag of nerves is trying to say is that there's more to the recruitment process," ORB spoke on his behalf, which calmed Jermy. "When you're not training with us at dawn, you'll be working with us in a trash-cleaning job called the Pick-it Up Club. Not everyone there is a part of SEAS, and they don't all know that you are from another world. We will help you with the cover story for the convenience of everyone involved."

A cover story? "I can do that."

Joey seemed more perturbed. "Weird…"

"Thanks, ORB. I think that about covers—" Jermy suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh! I almost forgot! I wanted to show you guys something!" Jermy suddenly marched off. ORB trailed him, snapping twigs and leaves with his wheel. "Leave the backpack, we'll come back for it!"

Mathew, Joey, and Demurke followed Jermy and ORB closely. As they moved, the ground below them got steeper and steeper and steeper. The beach gave way to a cliffside that kept growing with them, until they were high above the ocean. The exhausted Mathew was just short of complaining when the trees cleared, and that thought eroded away.

When the cubone had learned he was venturing to a world of pokémon, he pictured quiet villages with cute little huts and sparse populations. Mathew couldn't have been more wrong. The cliffside gave way to a circular outcove populated by bright neon signs and busy dirt-trodden streets. Brick buildings with steel roofs gleaned the light of the sun towards his eyes. It was a big gorgeous town confined by rock walls on all sides. Modest houses populated the top of the cliffside at the alcove's crown, tethered to the world below by the wires of a gondola lift.

"Holy shit…" Mathew couldn't bring any meaningful commentary — the only adjective he had to describe the view was 'beautiful.' Joey was with him, gawking in silence.

"Right?!" Jermy exclaimed. He got in front of them and gestured an arm towards the town. "Welcome to Kalmwa'er!"

"It really is a b-beautiful place, isn't it…?" Demurke said. "A-And this is just the beginning."

Mathew kept his eyes on Kalmwa'er. If this was the site of his training, he could only imagine what other sights Solceus had in store after he fulfilled his obligations. Frankly, he was content with stopping here — this seemed like the town of his dreams.

…Well, now that he said that… There was one thing that stuck out to him.

At Kalmwa'er's front, bordering its beach, was a pillar of a building, painted with a pale color resembling a shade of skin. It easily towered over the rest of the town — at five or six stories, it was almost equal in height to the cliffs. There was a sign plastered upon it that read Kalmwa'er Resort: Your NEW home for all things Kalmwa'er! Clearly it was some kind of hotel, which made sense — who wouldn't want to cash in on tourism? — but something about the building gave him an odd feeling. He wanted to say it was just because it was so tall, but it felt like there was something more.

Joey had taken notice of the small skyscraper, too. "Jermy, what's that building over there?"

"Oh, that's where we're going: Kalmwa'er Resort," Jermy explained. "The Pick-it Up Club's run by the owner, one of our business partners."

"Why is it so…" Mathew asked almost absentmindedly.

"Unfortunately whoever was in charge of decoration has no marketing sense. Neon and the beach would have stuck together as well as your peanut butter sandwich," ORB pointed out.

"Oh! That's it!" Mathew almost mask-palmed at the realization. How had he missed the absence of neon? "It must look really ugly at night." Quickly the strange thought faded away. It was just a sign. There was nothing to worry about! All that was in the way of paradise was a paradise in itself.

This was going to be great. Mathew could feel it.

And since when had his feelings ever led him astray?
 
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Dragonfree

Moderator
Staff
Location
Iceland
Pronouns
she/her/hers
Partners
  1. butterfree
  2. mightyena
  3. charizard
  4. scyther-mia
  5. vulpix
  6. slugma
Welcome to Thousand Roads! I'm here for Catnip Circle, reviewing the prologue.

I think you've got an intriguing start here - I don't read much PMD fic so I'm not really familiar with the trends of the genre or exactly how original any given thing is within it, but I liked how the human transported to the Pokémon world here is an esteemed engineer given plans to build a portal machine to get himself there because the real world kind of sucks right now, rather than just being magicked over. His cynicism was fun, and the little hints at the end that some stuff went down in the eight months while he was building the portal machine in particular piqued my interest, made me want to learn more and find out what happened.

I did think, though, that your prose was often a bit odd and confusing, in a way that made the story harder to follow and get immersed in, especially at the beginning. I'll go over examples below, but mainly, I think that some of your figurative language gets away from you a bit, is structured weirdly and just comes out as not entirely making sense. It doesn't make it impossible to comprehend or anything, but I just find myself having to stop and reread to puzzle out what you're talking about a bit, which may make it harder for readers to get into the story. If you think a bit more about your sentences and whether they're presenting the information you want to convey in the clearest way possible, I think your story might have an easier time hooking in readers from the start!

The simple Nevada town was dormant. Aisles after aisles of houses in front of dirt roads lay bare. Few people stalked the streets during the night, save for filthy scavengers who disrupted the order with their invasive incidents. In the town's not-so-fictitious fables, they fluttered through the miserable fog that covered the muddy roads beneath the moonlight. Tonight, however, those tall tales were false. There was no fog, nor was there a moon, as a dark layer of puffy clouds, gathered from the creeks nearby and the oceans far and wide, eclipsed the homely shine instead. To top it all off, the thieves — if there were anymore who dared step into the domain of one particular home — would have to contend with the fact that they were not the only ones awake.
So, this opening paragraph is by far the most confusing part here - which on the one hand means the rest of it is a lot better, but on the other hand means it's the first thing the reader sees, so if people are confused it's going to hurt their first impression of the story, which you really don't want. Let's break it down a bit. I won't be this nitpicky about the rest of the story, I promise.

The first sentence is fine, but the second is pretty confusing. For one thing, the word "aisle" generally refers to walkways between rows of seats or shelves, indoors; for another, grammatically this should mean it's the houses that lay bare, but I'm not sure what it means for a house to lie bare - bare of what? Maybe you mean the roads were empty, but the way this sentence is structured, that's not what it actually means. And usually to "lay bare" is a figure of speech referring to revealing something private. I think what you were going for here was something like "Rows upon rows of houses lined empty dirt roads", but even now I'm not quite sure what you actually meant to say.

Then you go on to describing how few people stalk the streets except for filthy scavengers. This implies that the "scavengers" are people - otherwise saying there were few people save for the scavengers doesn't make sense - which made me initially take this as a dehumanizing reference to homeless people. But then you go on to casually talk about them fluttering through fog? So I guess actually you're referring to birds of some kind? It occurred to me that maybe this was just a fic that includes Pokémon in the word "people", in which case this'd be slightly confusing in the opening before establishing that but still legit - but since we'll find out later that this is taking place in the human world and Pokémon are just a game in it, clearly that's not it.

The scavenger birds apparently disrupt the order with their invasive incidents. What are "invasive incidents"? I guess they invade people's homes, but calling that "invasive incidents" rather than just "invasions" (or something else) is needlessly obfuscating and not quite correct - "invasive" is another word generally used figuratively, to refer to something that intrudes on privacy or personal space, or something like invasive species, so an "invasive incident" doesn't really bring to mind houses being actually invaded.

You also talk about how the scavengers flutter through the fog in the town's not-so-fictitious fables, only to immediately move on to Tonight, however, those tall tales were false, because there was no fog or moon that night. But that's a very strange thing to say; if the town has legends saying the scavenger birds flutter through the fog when it's foggy, that doesn't make the legends false just because right now isn't foggy! You've already established, by calling the fables not-so-fictitious, that they are true. (But why are there legends just about them fluttering in fog at all, though? "Sometimes birds fly in the fog" isn't much of a legend; why wouldn't they fly when it's foggy? But if the legend is about the birds existing, then there's even less reason to say the legends are false because there's no fog right now.)

The overall impression given by this whole paragraph is pretty strange and puzzling: it's still extremely unclear that these are birds (right?), and if they are birds, and this is the real world, they seem oddly anthropomorphized, since you don't see birds regularly invading people's homes to steal things. A significant portion of the paragraph goes into talking about fog and moonlight only to then say actually right now it isn't foggy and there is no moonlight - then why go on about fog and moonlight to begin with? The scavenger birds go on to apparently have no significance for anything after this paragraph at all, and are only used to say that they're not going to attack the main character's home - so why are we spending most of the opening paragraph talking about them?

All in all, this opening raises a whole lot of unnecessary questions and is quite hard to parse! My best guess as to the reason you're talking about these presumably-birds is that they're part of why the world is going to hell as you establish later, and I think the final sentence is implying that they've learned to avoid this man's home in particular because he, I guess, beats them or traps them or poisons them or something when they come in? But this implication is left quite vague, so what it says about his character isn't very clear at all, and so much of the paragraph is talking about something that isn't relevant to this that it's left kind of muddled that that's the point. It's hard to make out what you're really getting at here and what's important, and it makes the paragraph just not really work. I would highly suggest revising at least this opening so that it's clearer what you're talking about and why you're telling it to us.

With nowhere else to go in this all-consuming void of a bed, he turned his exhausted body to face the side with the dresser. There was nothing there… Nothing he could speak of. His vision blurred with tears, but he refused to let them settle. The man hopped out of the hopeless endeavor. He just wasn't going to sleep that night. Again.
It seems strange to call his bed an all-consuming void - as far as I can tell from the rest of this, it's just a regular old bed. And saying he hopped out of the hopeless endeavor is kind of confusing too - he gives up and stops trying to sleep, yeah, but hopped is not really the word usually used for that, so is he literally jumping out of the bed, calling the bed a hopeless endeavor?

The light was so overwhelming.
This seems oddly colloquial next to the rest of the narration here.

With unnerving accuracy, his hands slid into a low kitchen drawer and pulled a knife. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" he screamed. "I'm not ready to go crazy yet!"
Not a prose issue, but I'm surprised he pulls out a knife to defend himself against a light - surely you wouldn't expect it to be corporeal, right?

The man was sure he understood what this was now. While his brain sought to deal with his oncoming vision with a real placebo, his eyes had decided lunacy was the best option.
I have no idea what you mean by his brain sought to deal with his oncoming vision with a real placebo. First of all, oncoming means something that's about to happen, not something that's happening right now, so why does his brain know about some oncoming vision in the first place; how can his brain want to deal with it with a placebo specifically, when a placebo is a medicine that doesn't actually do anything except on a mental level; and what do you mean by a real placebo? What do you mean, his eyes decided lunacy was the best option? I'm gathering from the context that what's actually happening here is he decides he's hallucinating this, but that's just not what these sentences say, in any intelligible way! I truly don't have a clue what you're trying to say here.

I know very well that you are an engineer, a forager, and a public figure.
A forager is someone who forages, i.e. roams around trying to find provisions, mostly food. This doesn't seem to rhyme well with him being an engineer and a public figure who lives in a house and seems to have lived there for years. Either you wanted a different word here, or you're using the word in a way that probably warrants some kind of further explanation (maybe he goes around scavenging for engine parts to use to build things?).

He tried to have doubts about this miraculous encounter
Generally you wouldn't really try to have doubts about something; either you do have them or you don't. Perhaps he was trying to dismiss it?

"Excellent!" the light was enthused, as if this was a bigger occasion for him than it was for the man.
I enjoy this bit - a fun little nugget of characterization for the mysterious light! But I must make one nitpick: since what follows the quote is just a regular independent sentence and doesn't contain a speech verb, it should be capitalized like a normal sentence.

With that, the ball of light slowly shrunk into nothing, leaving the man to rub his eyes and adjust back into the darkness of night. No longer blinded, the man got a long look at what the blueprints had to say. At the bottom of each diagram, essay, and graph, the page was signed with a pair of initials written in white: D.E.
Another minor nitpick: when the light is gone, and there is no moonlight as you told us very explicitly in the opening paragraph, and you indicate here that he doesn't turn on a light since you specifically talk about his eyes adjusting to the darkness, it seems pretty strange that he's able to read the blueprints at all!

He then made his way towards the dining room that, in all its years, had never been used.
I like this detail a lot! Such a simple thing but it says a lot, showing this guy's presumably been living alone and doesn't really ever have people over.

After the man finished bargaining his soul, having bargained everything else he still had aside from the snazzy-looking suit and burgundy polka-dotted tie he had put on just in case he ended up warping into a meeting or something, he decided it was time.
This amused me and I enjoyed it - the humorous touches towards the end are quite fun!

Throwing the backpack into the corner for the moment, the man went over his plans one last time. He had everything, except...except for…

No, no. He couldn't think about that. It was an awful loss — the hardest part of these eight months — but it was time for happier days. All he needed was one last look at Nevada and he was gone.
Again, I liked this a lot. Very intriguing, and here it's a wise decision to leave it extremely vague what he's talking about because then we're left to wonder just what happened. (The dining room being burnt was a great detail too.)

The man grabbed his backpack, rubbed his chin for a moment - this might be the last time he'll have a beard, after all - and then stepped into the rip.
Also enjoyed this bit about the beard - though tense-wise that should be "the last time he'd have a beard".

So, all in all, after a bit of a rough start I think the story started to come into its own towards the later bits of the prologue, with more humour and character to the engineer. It's a neat start! I highly recommend watching out for that prose and giving special focus to clarity when editing, though.
 
Chapter 2

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 2: Strange and Strangers
As the gray cat eyed the medical kit in his paws, he wondered how, exactly, he had ended up like this. He had spent his whole life readying to become a doctor, or a nurse, or perhaps even a counselor. Now he found himself as a mystery dungeon's janitor, pestered by a fifteen year-old girl.

"Come on, dude!" his minccino coworker donned in a faded yellow scarf and bycocket hat, Minichino, cried. The gray chinchilla was carrying three blue satchels, all of which were heavier than his. "If you took one, we'd get these filled up in no time!"

"I'm not going to do Demurke and Jermy's jobs for them while they're gone," Meowth bluntly replied.

Minichino groaned. "Then could you at least work on your own, Meowth? We're kind of on a time limit here!"

"I know." He defiantly picked up a plastic bottle sitting atop the brush and shoved it into his satchel with a little too much force. It was still hardly half-full.

"Should lay off him a bit, Minichino." Politoed had been watching them bicker as he scanned the floor for trash. The green frog, taller than both of them, was fiddling with the antique crown atop his head. "From the sound of it, he could come back with an empty satchel and Mr. Persian wouldn't care."

Meowth couldn't exactly disagree, only offering Politoed a grunt and a shrug. About a month ago, his father had come to his little apartment's front door with an offer: a comfy condo in the nicest part of town in exchange for providing medical services to his 'Pick-it Up Club' for low pay. Everyone else in the Club was here on their own initiative — only Meowth had been roped in by Mr. Persian. They all knew this.

"You know, I'm not even against Per keeping a doctor on-hand in case we run into a dungeon pokémon that's too much to handle." Thwack! The tree branch shook and rustled in response to Breloom's successful high kick. The kangaroo with a mushroom cap for a head stuck the landing with her stretchy limbs, then looked to Meowth with eyes surrounded by black eyeshadow. Two gems at her neck glinted from the sun piercing the layer of leaves. One was a pink crystal embedded into a medallion — the other, a smooth sky-blue stone holding together a violet cape that draped down her back. "But if you really don't like the job, 'Owth, that medical license of yours could get you somewhere more important to you."

And it'd get you out of the picture so you'd stop bringing the mood down. Breloom didn't say that part, but she didn't need to. Meowth knew.

"Sorry, I don't plan on leaving anytime soon. I've got nothing better to do."

"Suit yourself, I guess," Politoed commented with an air of disappointment. The gleam of his own matching crystal medallion kept getting into Meowth's eyes.

Minichino, taking Politoed's advice, turned her attention away from him and towards her own work. "Well, if we're not gonna clean up for them, that just means I'll have to go find where they ran off to and give them back!" She promptly marched into the woods, beckoning for the rest of them to follow.

Meowth didn't mind using this as a distraction from the prior conversation. They didn't understand that this really was important. Until he had shown up on his doorstep last month, Meowth hadn't seen his father in six years — not since he sent him off to dorm life when he was thirteen. The only bits of contact he had was the occasional visit from his assistant, Demurke.

This whole 'Pick-it Up Club' thing had been suspicious from the moment Mr. Persian mentioned it. He never took his father the environmentalist type, and even if he was, it didn't explain why he chose now, of all times, to talk to him again. There was only one explanation that made sense: Mr. Persian wanted something from him, beyond just his occupation. Meowth wanted to know why. So, he agreed to his father's game.

When he had noticed Jermy in the resort lobby this morning, Meowth had known today was the day he'd beat him at it.

Mr. Persian and Demurke had made a hasty entrance to the lobby of Kalmwa'er Resort, their usual meeting spot where they planned the workday. This time, however, a pikachu Meowth wasn't familiar with had been with them. "Everyone, I'd like to introduce you all to Jermy," his father had said. "He's a representative from a company sponsoring the resort, and he'll be joining the Club starting today!"

"Heck yeah!" Minichino had cheered. "The more members, the better!"

Breloom crouched down, looking at the green robot accompanying the pikachu. "Who's the funny-looking magnemite?"


"I am the Observational Recreation Buddy, abbreviated ORB, version 5.1," it had said. "I am not a pokémon, but a robot."

"He's mine!" Jermy had said. "I built him myself."

"Unfortunately."

"You made them?!" Minchino had run up to Jermy with an eager expression. "That's so cool!"

And so bizarre. Meowth hadn't seen anything like this before. An autonomous machine…where did this pikachu learn to build that kind of technology?


"Said he works for one of your sponsors, right? What brings him here?" Politoed had asked.

"Oh!" Mr. Persian had taken a second to answer that question. "They have a 'goodwill program' where employees are sent out to help the local community. Apparently, we might even see more new members come from that. They think the Club is a good fit!"

That was when it happened. His father's face had risen into a hollowly charismatic grin. When Meowth saw that performative smile, he knew he needed to keep a close eye on Jermy. When Meowth was little, that was the face he made when he was lying.

Speaking of Jermy, it seemed like the four of them were approaching him, ORB, and Demurke. Meowth heard the distant rustling of leaves scuffing of dirt. They were nearby — and it didn't sound like they were alone.

"This is really your first time?" a voice said, low-pitched and loud.

"I reckon that we ain't gonna be the easiest to teach," another voice said, youthful and nasally.

"Yeah, I'm new to all this." That was Jermy. "David usually has me throwing my noggin at other things, but you guys are pretty different. You'll need somebody like me around!"

The voices and noises were getting closer. Teaching them… What did that mean? Who were these strangers?

"And n-no worries, Joey!" Meowth could see the group walking together now. Demurke was addressing a cubone and a totodile carrying an oversized backpack. "You and Mathew have me! I-I've done this whole recruitment thing a…few times before, so I know a thing or t-two."

"You also have me, a catalog of information," ORB said. "On that note, here's a pretty obvious rule number zero…" Suddenly, he whirled around to face Meowth and the others as they approached from the side. "Don't get snuck up on this easily."

"Hey, we're not sneaking!" Minichino exclaimed. Meowth was amused by the denial — by not saying a word, they gave him a chance to sneak a listen. "I was gonna give you your satchels back, but now I wanna know who the heck these two are."

"It's Mathew Walker. I'm a master engineer and marketer." The cubone set the backpack aside and put a hand in front of Minichino. "You're Minichino, right? Demurke told me that you're the co-owner of the Club."

"Yep! That's me!" Minichino bowed to him.

Slowly, Mathew rescinded his hand and bowed back. "You sound a little young to be running a business…"

Minichino flashed him a cheeky grin. "Why yes, yes I am!"

Already, Meowth found this stranger suspect. He had a second name and seemed confused when Minichino greeted her. Wherever he came from, it had a strange culture.

"And you'd be…?"

Meowth hadn't realized Mathew was prompting him. "It's just Meowth."

"Huh."

That was a pretty lame greeting, he was probably thinking, based on the way he looked at him. Meowth really didn't have more to say.

"Howdy, Minichino, howdy, Meowth, and — oh!" The totodile gave a hasty bow. "Uh, howdy, your Highness!"

"Highness?" Politoed looked at him curiously before remembering what he wore on his head. "Oh, no. I'm no prince."

"Hah? Why do you wear a crown, then?"

"Just an heirloom. Called a King's Rock." He tapped the crown on his head. "An antique before they made crowns in gold. See?"

Politoed immediately nudged the King's Rock back into place. I care about my crown immensely, though — I'm just being modest, he was surely thinking right now.

"Huh," Joey remarked. "If I can't call you your Highness, what's your name, then?"

"Just Politoed is fine."

Rather than address the two strangers, Breloom approached Jermy. "So are you gonna explain what's going on here, Jer, or you gonna keep teasing us?"

"Yeah, I can explain!" Jermy said. "See, Mathew and Joey here are actually new members to the company, working in an office down in Cosaline. To get them started, we're having them help here in Kalmwa'er. The whole reason I joined you guys was so that I could come meet them as soon as they were close to town!"

"Wow! That goodwill program's really coming in clutch!" Minichino exclaimed.

Was she seriously entertaining this? This story sounded absurd. Meowth supposed the part about Mathew and Joey could be true, but Jermy went into a mystery dungeon with the Club just to meet them early? There was no reason he needed to do that.

"Cosaline, huh? Sounds like you had a long trip," Breloom remarked. She took it upon herself to pick up the big backpack. Surprisingly, she could handle it alone. "I'll carry this for you, yeah?"

Joey beamed at Breloom. "Thanks, Mrs. Mushroom!"

Breloom stifled a laugh, mouthing 'Mrs. Mushroom' to herself. "You can drop the Mrs. I don't have a kid…yet." She wrapped an arm around Politoed. "Just call me Breloom, Joe."

The blushing Politoed struggled to pull himself away. "So, how is Cosaline?"

"Pretty good!" Mathew was quick to answer. "They just finished construction on a statue in the center of town. Really livens up the place, you know?"

Meowth had been keeping up with the news on Cosaline. They did build a statue there recently, but why was the first thing he mentioned not… "What about the fire?"

The wide-eyed look Mathew gave him said a thousand words. "Come again?"

"...The fire in town that nearly burned it down last week?" Politoed raised a brow, looking curious. "Got news on it over here, too. Good thing Count Spinarak's image wasn't melted…"

"Yeah!" Mathew whipped back to Politoed, looking relieved. "It was a good thing that didn't happen. It looks so nice now!"

Him simply going along with what Politoed told him confirmed it for Meowth. These two definitely weren't from Cosaline. Where were they from, then? Why lie?

"I hate to break up the fun," ORB said, "but you all should probably go back to the Resort. All of these nerds need to actually sign up for the job."

"Yeah, you're right…" As Minichino handed Demurke and Jermy their satchels back, she sounded almost disappointed. "It's almost noon, anyway. We gotta get out of here before the mystery dungeon shifts."

"What's a mys—?"

Demurke tapped Joey with a talon, which made him go quiet. None of them addressed it, but based on Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom's nervous demeanors, all of them heard it.

As they walked in silence, Meowth could hardly take his eyes off Joey. Not when they reached the edge of town…not when they stopped to deliver all the trash to the dump…especially not when they were all tightly crammed inside the gondola car taking them to the lower part of Kalmwa'er.

What's a mystery dungeon. How could somebody not know what a mystery dungeon is? They surrounded civilization on all sides in every part of the world. Those who were that clueless were the kind of people that became dungeon pokémon — their strange, easy-to-agitate inhabits. Meowth tried to wrap his head around it, but he couldn't find any way for Joey to not at least get the picture from mentioning the shift.

That settled it. Meowth didn't know who or what they were, but Mathew and Joey were not normal pokémon. Whatever his father had wanted from him, he was certain these two were the key to it. All he had to do was find a way to pull the answers out of them.

It didn't take long for them to stand in the shadow of Mr. Persian's creation. Glass door slid apart to lead them into the lobby. In the front, finished wood flooring, bean bag chairs arranged in circles, and a large fan hung from the ceiling to give a cozy atmosphere. In the back, black and white tiling and a chandelier illuminated a fancier space with a high-class feel. There was something for everyone here — except Meowth, who found it to all feel fake.

"Here we are," Breloom remarked as she set the backpack down in a chair.

"Ah, welcome back!" Right in front of them, standing just ahead of the reception desk, was his father, As he approached, Meowth noticed Mathew fiddle with his tie, seemingly reminded by the purple bowtie his father always wore. "I assume the workday went as smoothly as ever?"

"Yepperoni!" Jermy answered before gesturing to Mathew and Joey. "And we met up with these two, just as planned."

"Excellent." Mr. Persian briefly scanned over the cubone and totodile, then bowed. "It's a pleasure to properly meet you both. I'd be glad to hand you three job contracts right away, but my office is kind of a mess at the moment… I'm afraid that I'm not sure where I put my blank copies."

"An unclean office?!" Minichino cried. "This sounds like a job for me!" She was already storming into the Resort.

"Minichino, you don't have to…!" Mr. Persian sighed. "Sorry about this. Could you wait here?"

"It's not like we have anything better to do." Meowth tossed himself into an open chair. When he landed, Mr. Persian stared at him, head tilted.

"Don't w-worry, Mr. Persian." Demurke lightly patted Mr. Persian's back, bringing him back to attention. "I'll help, too!"

Mr. Persian turned to her, looking grateful. "Thank you, Demurke," Mr. Persian said as they walked off. "You're always such a good help."

Looking up at him, Meowth wanted to spit in his father's face. What was all this? Demurke only helped him because it was her job, and Minichino only helped him because it was her passion. What was Mr. Persian achieving, making him think these were grand gestures? That he had somehow changed? He hadn't changed at all. His only friends were his most loyal employees.

"Good luck finding those papers!" Jermy called out. "Boy, I remember when I would lose papers before I had ORB to remember where I put them for me. Let's hope he can find them faster than I could…"

It had been a long ten minutes. Meowth and the others had been sitting idle for long enough that his tail was falling asleep. Surely the three of them together could have found those papers faster… What was holding them up?

Breloom eyed the clock hanging over the entrance. "Geez. If Per's room is this bad, no wonder he needs Demurke."

"Well, what did you expect?" To be honest, Meowth was asking both Breloom and himself. Mr. Persian's actual office was a mystery to him. He always conducted business matters for the Club in other empty offices and meeting rooms around the resort. There were a lot of those.

"Dunno." Politoed was deeper into his beanbag chair than Meowth was, getting a good view of the ceiling. "Definitely making me wish I brought a radio or something. Can't pass time doing nothing like you can."

Got a lot of practice wasting your time, Politoed was telling himself. Meowth just tried to ignore it.

"You guys want music?" Jermy hopped out of his chair. "Well, I know a certain robot that can solve that!"

"ORB can play music?" Mathew sounded impressed.

"I hope he means me," ORB said. "If he made more of me, I'd sue for neglect."

"What are y'all waiting for then?!" Joey exclaimed. "Play something nice."

"Fine. Now playing: Wilting Woes instrumental, by Dula Steppinbeech."

Dula Steppinbeech? What kind of name was that? For that matter, what kind of music was this? It sounded terrible.

Somehow, Mathew was bopping his head to it. "Oh, hell yeah, harmon-pop!"

"More like harmon-my ears," Meowth mumbled, pawing at them. "What is that lead instrument?"

"It's…a harmonica." Mathew looked uncertain, but he spoke with confidence. "It's a new trendy thing in Cosaline."

"Huh. I'm gonna have to visit Cosaline at some point. They got something going on there…" Breloom was already flexing her claws, plucking an air guitar to feel out the song's bassline. Meowth had learned years ago that neither Breloom nor Politoed were to type to sit still when there was music in the air. It was annoying.

He instead began studying the stranger. That cubone, smiling at Breloom's fake-playing, recognized this genre before either of the couple did. Those two were music nuts. How could they not have heard about a new genre growing in a town this close to Kalmwa'er? Unless—

"So tired of waiting, for something new to come…"

Of course. He was finally coming to a revelation, and here Politoed comes, crashing his train of thought!

"They're tired of hiding, there's nowhere else to run…" Either Politoed couldn't see him see him sending annoyed glares, or he was ignoring him. It was probably the latter.

"Huh, nice improv." Mathew shut his eyes, waiting for a moment to strike himself. "I see songbirds in green, two golden gleams — la la la-la, la la la-laaa…"

Meowth sunk deeper into his chair. He wanted to shut both of them up, especially the out-of-rhythm stranger, but he didn't have the guts — not while people were watching.

Politoed, on the other hand, seemed to welcome his challenge. "Not bad for a newbie. Lots of room for improvement, though."

"Newbie?!" Mathew sprung out of his chair. "Buddy, I've been practicing longer than you've probably been alive. I'm just rusty, is all. Usually, I'm the one strumming…" That remark made Breloom perk up in interest. "If I was more ready, I'd make up lyrics a shit-ton better than yours!"

"Quite a big challenge you're making there." Politoed looked amused as he rose to his feet. "Think you can back it up?"

Mathew was unfazed. "Oh, I know I can."

Before Meowth knew it, ORB had started the track over, and the two singers were standing across from each other. The cubone straightened up, while Politoed slouched down. Meowth was close to burying himself in his own chair out of embarrassment. "You have to be kidding me…"

"I've banked on chance, I got nothing left to lose." Mathew brought the blunt end of his club close to his mouth, using it as a makeshift microphone. "Your kingliness, I don't get to pick and choose."

"You'd change your tune if you saw the things I've seen. (You saw the things I've seen, yeah.)" Politoed's singing voice, as always, was controlled, clean but not overpowering. "That cracked mask blinds you just like a muddied screen!"

"Frogger, don't act like I've got innocence, I'm older than you know." Mathew's singing voice, on the other hand, was voluminous but shaky. It was obvious he hadn't practiced recently now that he had reached the point in the song he had improvised last time.

"It seems for all that talk and all that walk, you've got so far to go!" As Wilting Woes barreled into the chorus, Politoed took notice that they had attracted a small crowd. That seemed to embolden him.

"Set your crowned ass right down, 'cause you have lots to learn," Mathew sang. "Torching up all that pride will be one big slow burn."

"Dance in your masquerade, I can't be one to judge," Politoed fired back. "Just know I think you'll end up deep within the sludge!"

The song put an end to the chorus. The harmonica paused to give the guitar a solo, one Breloom made the most of. During the break, the crowd gave Mathew and Politoed a modest applause. Joey and Jermy clapped with them.

Meowth couldn't understand their enthusiasm. He, for one, hadn't cringed more times consecutively in years. Politoed he understood, but did this cubone have no sense of shame? If this is what he meant by 'marketer', he wasn't sure if he was a fan.

"Thanks much!" Politoed said before turning to the current and future Club members. "Got an opinion on which one of us did better?"

"Oh yeah, we never actually picked a judge, did we?" Mathew asked.

Meowth propped himself up in his seat. "If you're looking for a judge, you'll have one when my father comes back and gets upset with you for making a scene."

"And there's the fun police." Breloom gave up the air guitar. "I had a sneaking feeling they'd show up eventually."

"Oh, lighten up a little. You know he's not gonna be mad, right?" He turned back to Mathew. "Got a candidate for a judge in Meowth. Certainly does a great job figuring out which things he doesn't like."

"It's less about me not liking it and more about you two making a mockery of yourselves in public." He gestured to the dissolving crowd. Recognizing that the moment had passed, ORB's music cut out.

"Trust me, this isn't even close to the most embarrassing thing I've done." Mathew flipped his bone club over. "The more times you let yourself be weird, the easier it gets. You should really try it!"

Meowth just sighed. He couldn't deny that Mathew had given him sound advice, but that didn't mean that he liked it.

"Don't expect too much from him." Politoed straightened up his crown. "Me, Breloom, and Meowth used to room together in Higher Ed. Try as we might, him and 'fun' just don't go together very well."

And so the seed was planted. Now that Mathew understood his history, he would soon grow to detest Meowth just as much as everyone else. No point trying to prevent it from happening — if somebody else didn't do it, he'd eventually plant the seed himself, intentionally or otherwise. That was just how things were.

"Anyways, good work, both of you. Have to say though, you have some…original lines, Mathew." Breloom put a claw to the bottom tip of her mouth. "What's 'crowned ass' mean to you, by the by?"

Mathew was flustered by the question. "It…uh…means donkey. I was calling you king of the donkeys."

"Me, dirt-ridden like a busy mudbray? Now I see the insult." Politoed nodded in approval. "Clever! A real talented one, Mathew. Where'd you learn so much about songcraft?"

"Nowhere in particular." Mathew was quick to shut down the subject, his tone suddenly drained of that curiosity it held before. Meowth couldn't help but wonder why.

"We're back!" Minichino interrupted Politoed's chance to ask more questions. Mr. Persian and Demurke were with her, the latter of whom was carrying a stack of papers.

"I'm so sorry for the delay," Mr. Persian said with an apologetic tone. "I didn't anticipate finding those sheets would be such a hassle…"

"Did we m-miss anything interesting?" Demurke asked.

Mathew and Politoed passed looks to each other. "We wasted some time having fun and that's about it," the cubone explained. "Are we getting hired now?"

Mr. Persian smacked his front paws on the floor eagerly. "Absolutely!" He turned himself around. "Follow me."

Mr. Persian led them deeper into the resort. Although the fancier side of the lobby had a more elegant appearance from afar, it wasn't all that different upon closer inspection. Chairs still lined the walls, and a wooden walkway cut through the tile in the hallways. As they walked, they passed by a glass wall presenting a room with treadmills and weights for bipeds and quadrupeds alike. For some reason, Jermy's gait became more stiff as they walked by the fitness room.

Soon enough, they arrived at a small, generic office space. A number of bean bag chairs were splayed out in front of a mahogany desk. The green walls were lined with picture frames holding quality photos of people Meowth didn't recognize. Two clear windows, facing a pool in the back of the resort, brought in rays of warm light. It was one of those rooms that felt like home, until he tried to sink his paws in the carpet floor and found it wasn't actually cushiony at all — a reminder that this was business space, and the home he was thinking of was just a distant memory.

That was where they all gathered to watch as Mr. Persian signed this trio of strangers into their lives.

"Now that you've been welcomed to the Club, we have one more matter to discuss." Mr. Persian leaned in slightly. "The matter of living accommodations. As part of our sponsor's program, I'm going to provide you three with a room on the top floor."

"Top floor, huh? Nice." Mathew seemed to approve, if only mildly.

Meowth kept eyeing his father from his seat. So that was his place in this supposed program? Providing a room in the resort? He supposed it made sense on the surface, but knowing just how unusual these strangers were, he kept looking for a deeper reading.

"Sounds like you all are gonna be living in style," Breloom remarked.

Mr. Persian nodded. "That's right! They'll meet all sorts of esteemed guests, too." He reached a paw out to dip his claws in more ink to pen with.

The two of them locked eyes. Meowth could see his face clearly as he agreed with Breloom.

That smile. That stupid smile. Taunting him. Telling Meowth, I'm slipping this master plan right past you and you don't even know.

Meowth had to stop this.

He stepped in between Mr. Persian and the Club members. "I have a better idea." He peered at Mr. Persian. "Recently, Mr. Persian offered me a condo to stay in for the next few months. He's already paying for it, and it's a little bit large for one person to live in. Wouldn't it be better if you lived in the condo with me instead of cramming into one small room?"

"What?!" Minichino gawked and Demurke flapped her wings, both taken aback by Meowth's offer at the same time. The rest of the room seemed stunned into silence — besides the people he was selling this on.

"How big are we talking?" Mathew asked. "Does it still have a view?"

Interest. There was the momentum he needed. "It's towards the edge of the cliff, and there's a big glass window, so you can see the sunset on the ocean each day," Meowth began to explain. "I have enough spare rooms to fit all three of you. You would have a commute to the Club each morning, but in exchange, you can use the kitchen and not have to share beds."

There was a pause…and then Joey looked to Jermy. "That's a pretty good bargain… Would it be a big deal if we did it?"

Jermy was at a complete loss. "I…don't…think so?"

ORB elected to save him. "The primary conflict would be more limited access to Club facilities. Aside from that, interference would be relatively limited."

That seemed to be enough for Mathew. "We'll do that, then."

"Hang on a second," Politoed said. "Remember what we talked about earlier. You sure you know what you're doing?"

Mathew listened to all this, nodding away, before answering Politoed's question. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, you two, but I've literally just met Meowth. All I know about him is that he offered us a house for free. And what? You think it's a bad idea because he's a little bit of a buzzkill?"

"You want to see for yourself if he's as bad as we say." Politoed nodded. "Kind of get that. Just hope you don't regret is, is all…"

Mr. Persian hadn't said anything during their change of plans, but his panicked face said enough. "Excuse me." He moved away from the desk. "Meowth, could we speak for a moment in private?"

Meowth shrugged. "Sure."

Mr. Persian and Meowth vacated the office room, returning to the narrow hallway.

"Before I say anything, I want you to know that that was a very good pitch. That being said… What are you trying to do here, Meowth?!" He shrilly whispered.

"I'm taking matters into my own hands," Meowth told him simply. "I've made my case and it sounds like they liked it."

"Taking matters into your…?" He shook his head, padding around him. "Meowth, you don't understand. I have to—"

"Make more money? I get it. It's all you ever do these days."

His father's eyes widened in shock at the remark. The expression was gratifying. "When did you get that idea!?"

"Mr. Persian, sir!" Suddenly, Demurke shoved the door open and drove a wedge between them. "I… I think we should a-allow Meowth to take them in. That c-condo is nicer than the hotel rooms…" she nodded to herself, as if to assure herself of her own stance. "It wouldn't be h-hard to work around them being a couple minutes away. Besides…it might be better for…"

Demurke refused to finish her sentence, but with the way she and Mr. Persian were sharing glances, she didn't need to. Better for what?

Mr. Persian sighed. "I'm still not sure, but you have final say. I suppose you can take them, Meowth."

"Thanks. They'll be good help." He turned around to open the door, leading the three of them back into the office to secure their place in his condo.

Behind him, his father mumbled a lament. "Meowth… What's gotten into you?"

Meowth didn't bother to entertain him with an answer.

"Here we are," Meowth said, pushing the creaky door open. "Make yourselves at home."

"Phew!" Mathew stumbled into the condo, hardly able to hold the backpack anymore. "Finally…"

In front of them was Meowth's kitchen, a tighter space where a refrigerator and a pair of microwaves stood. Beyond that, the house opened up to a cozy living room with a couch and a television. The back wall was composed entirely of glass, giving a full view of the ocean and the rest of town below.

"Wow, this is real nice!" Experimenting, Joey walked around in the kitchen. At twice Meowth's height, it was a little tight to navigate. When he looked to one of the counters, he paused. "Er… You have two microwaves?"

"One of them was a birthday gift, the other came with the condo," Meowth explained. "Don't question it."

Jermy sighed. "I'm still not sure about this…"

"Didn't you let this happen, Jermy?" ORB said.

"I did, I did…" Jermy conceded. "But only because I didn't want to play the bad cop!"

"Come on…man!" Mathew exclaimed, dragging his backpack into the living room. "He gave this…to us…for free!" Meowth watched as Mathew paused and whirled his head around the living room. Branching off from the main living space, there were two rooms blocked by doors on the side walls, and a staircase on the right led up to more. "Hey Meowth, where can I settle down?" he asked after soaking it in.

"The room to the left is mine, and the right's a supply closet. Take one of the three rooms upstairs."

"Got it!" Mathew continued to lug his belongings to the corner, then slowly and steadily up the staircase. Meowth quickly slipped into the closet and grabbed a nest before giving chase.

The second floor was a smaller living room with a few proper Meowth-sized chairs, another television, and three doors, one at each wall. Meowth tailed Mathew as he struggled towards the door across from the back window. Three doorknobs awaited him: one his height, one slightly above Joey's height, and one above that. Turning the one at his level turned them all.

The room Mathew had chosen was modestly sized, with orange walls and a dark wooden floor. The walls were lined with unremarkable white cabinets, and the side facing the neighborhood had two small windows which brought in a tolerable amount of light. To the left was another door, attached to a washroom. It wasn't exactly an area Mathew would spend all his time in, but Meowth supposed it was better that way.

With one final tug, Mathew let the backpack stand. He absentmindedly began to unpack. "Hey Meowth, would you mind if—" Mathew stopped when he looked up.

"Yes?" Meowth asked.

"What the hell is that?" he pointed towards the disk-shaped conglomeration of strand and straw he was dragging behind him.

"I'm bringing a nest for your room. Sleeping on the floor isn't very comfortable."

"We're...sleeping in nests." Mathew's expression went unread beneath his mask, but Meowth could guess what it looked like. "Do you sleep in a nest?"

"I do," Meowth answered. "Do you not where you're from?"

"Not at all." The cubone stretched his arms. "But I guess I'm gonna have to get used to it. I need a nap…"

Meowth turned his back on Mathew to get nests for Joey and Jermy's rooms. Yeah, you should get used to it, Mathew, he thought. You three need to get relaxed if I hope to learn anything from you…
 
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LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Alright, now that this chapter to post is out of the way, I probably should belatedly address your review, Dragonfree. Sorry for the delay on this.

I did think, though, that your prose was often a bit odd and confusing, in a way that made the story harder to follow and get immersed in, especially at the beginning. I'll go over examples below, but mainly, I think that some of your figurative language gets away from you a bit, is structured weirdly and just comes out as not entirely making sense. It doesn't make it impossible to comprehend or anything, but I just find myself having to stop and reread to puzzle out what you're talking about a bit, which may make it harder for readers to get into the story. If you think a bit more about your sentences and whether they're presenting the information you want to convey in the clearest way possible, I think your story might have an easier time hooking in readers from the start!

It seems like this particular point was aimed mostly towards the very first paragraph. I have to say, I'm impressed by how thoroughly you tore that paragraph apart -- I've never had somebody get so textually in-depth in that regard. The reason it was so poor is two fold:
1. I didn't really change it all that much from the original version, as I didn't feel like it needed to be rewritten entirely.
2. What things I did were partially attempts at being more flavorful, but it seems like I got caught up in symbolism for that particular paragraph.
I definitely messed up on that. I decided to try my hand at a new first paragraph, one that conveys information directly enough to not be a puzzle without becoming drab. I hope that improves the quality of this prologue significantly.

In general, a lot of the things you tripped over in the beginning was because I was a tad unclear with the symbolism. For example:

It seems strange to call his bed an all-consuming void - as far as I can tell from the rest of this, it's just a regular old bed. And saying he hopped out of the hopeless endeavor is kind of confusing too - he gives up and stops trying to sleep, yeah, but hopped is not really the word usually used for that, so is he literally jumping out of the bed, calling the bed a hopeless endeavor?

The terms "all-consuming void" and "hopeless endeavor" were supposed to be figurative. The "void" is the overwhelming feeling the man feels while in this room (the one that's making him tear up), and the "hopeless endeavor" is his pursuit of sleep, which is tied to, but is not literally the bed. I'm not gonna change these because they're not that big of a deal to me, but I'll try to avoid getting so loftly with my language in the future.

I have no idea what you mean by his brain sought to deal with his oncoming vision with a real placebo. First of all, oncoming means something that's about to happen, not something that's happening right now, so why does his brain know about some oncoming vision in the first place; how can his brain want to deal with it with a placebo specifically, when a placebo is a medicine that doesn't actually do anything except on a mental level; and what do you mean by a real placebo? What do you mean, his eyes decided lunacy was the best option? I'm gathering from the context that what's actually happening here is he decides he's hallucinating this, but that's just not what these sentences say, in any intelligible way! I truly don't have a clue what you're trying to say here.

Oh wow, that actually is a really crappy sentence. I don't even know why I wrote it that way -- your assessment of what it's trying to say is correct, but I really screwed that up. I'll fix this as well.

That's about all I really have to say to this review. Thank you for the feedback, Dragonfree -- and thank you, Windskull, for putting me in Catnip Circle.
 

windskull

Bidoof Fan
Staff
Partners
  1. sneasel-nip
  2. bidoof
  3. absol
  4. kirlia
  5. windskull-bidoof
  6. little-guy-windskull
  7. purugly
  8. mawile
Hey Luke (and the rest of your team, I know yall will all be reading this 8P). Now that you’ve finally got the reboot started, It’s about time I get around to writing a review. I’m going to say a few thoughts for each chapter, and then give my overall thoughts at the end.

Prologue
It had been months since this room, now nearly barren besides a bed and a dresser, or these dreams, now filled to the brim with pricks and pains, had felt like his own.
He lost everything in the divorce. Joking aside, I like that this sets up for some backstory. There’s definitely something that’s happened here that you’re hinting at. How deep it runs for Matthew and how it’ll affect the rest of the story, though, is yet to be seen.

That said, I feel I should mention that I had some trouble parsing this sentence and had to read it several times to make sense of what you were trying to say. My best guess for why I had trouble is the fact that there were several rather flowery and poetic sentences in a row, which made it harder to digest.

The man turned around only to find himself blinded by a giant ball of searing heat and energy right in front of him. "Greetings," a voice boomed, seemingly coming from the light itself.
Very quickly jumping into the plot. Good.

The man slouched against the wall. "Yeah. It's twenty sixty four," he mocked. "You're screwed, I'm screwed, the planet's screwed, it's the goddamn apocalypse. What about it?"
Huh, it’s kind of interesting how far in the future you’ve set things. Especially considering that Matthew recognizes pokemon. I guess they’re an artifact of his childhood. Which could partially explain why Joey doesn’t recognize pokemon. (Amnesia aside.)

Nobody was outside… Not that it mattered, since he didn't know anybody in this town anymore. Not a soul in the area would really miss him.
Funny, he tried to convince himself he wasn’t crazy. But his pursuit of building this portal really made him look crazy to the rest of the world. Kind of ironic in a way. That said, he certainly strikes me as eccentric.


Chapter 1
A nitpick with the prose here. This was a bit of an issue in the prologue as well, but it wasn’t as noticeable. So, I know you wanted to obscure the characters name until it was revealed, and avoided using totodile since he didn’t know what he was, but I feel like “the boy” was overused a bit too much. There were portions where “the boy” could have just been replaced with “he” and it would have flowed just as well or better.

I think what makes it particularly noticeable and makes things feel particularly stilted is the fact that you had four paragraphs all start with “the boy” in quick succession. Swapping a couple of them out for just “he” or slightly restructuring the first sentence of a couple of them should solve that issue, though.

…Well, ain't that a problem.
I got a kick out of the narrator’s personality here.

His comment put a lightbulb in the man's head.
This line feels a bit awkwardly worded.


Chapter 2
Ah and here’s the introduction to the fourth of our main cast, Meowth. It’s curious to me that his name is just his species name, when most of the other pokemon at least use some modified form of their name. (Poli, Bre, Demurke, Minichino). In fact, it seems like the exceptions - thus far - to that rule are Meowth, Mr. Persian (who at least uses a title in conjunction with his name) and, Mrs. Cinccino (who again has an honorific). I wonder if this is some convention his father used, if he’s obscured his name due to his tensions with his dad, or if there’s something else entirely. Or maybe it’s a holdover from the rp version of the fic and I’m totally reaching.

Anyways, there’s a lot of tension set up between Meowth and his father. And to be honest, it definitely feels like his dad is hiding something.

Also, Meowth is kind of interesting to me. He’s amedic and therapist, but he seems to have a lot of apathy and some anxieties/distrust. Interested to see how that plays out going forward.

Right, right…" With a sigh, Minichino began fruitlessly pacing around, devolving their defiance of the pikachu's order to stay still from focused to floundering.
I had a bit of trouble parsing this sentence. I feel like “ignoring” or even just “defying” could have been used in place of “devolving their defiance of.” Additionally I feel like “from focused to floundering” could be cut from the sentence entirely. I’m… still not really sure what that part is supposed to mean, to be completely honest.

"Look, Meowth, all I'm saying here is—" The cinccino paused as her large, red ears suddenly perked up, like a tiny flinch.
I think this is a typo. Shouldn’t it be “The minccino?”


So, for general thoughts, I think you’ve got a pretty strong setup. You’ve left the breadcrumbs of the plot, but have taken the time to get the characters and part of the world established. I imagine the next chapter will continue to build up the world, and that the plot will take off soon after.

As for characters, I think you’ve got a strong main cast. Each character has their quirks, and feels very distinct from one another. Matthew and Jermy are both a bit eccentric, but in different ways. And Matthew in particular has some things in his past that he seems to be hiding from, that I imagine will come up later. Meowth feels a little anxious and distrusting, as well as a bit apathetic. Joey is the hardest to pin down, but he’s a friendly kid, and we’ve definitely only scratched the surface of his personality. The same can be said for all of them, of course.

All that said, I think the weakest point thus far is that sometimes you let your words get away from you, and it can make sections harder to understand. I unfortunately don’t have any great solutions, but it’s something to keep in mind.

I think that’s everything for now? I’ll get back to you later when you have another chapter or two under your belt. See you then.
 

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
[This post was originally where chapter 3 was posted before it was scrapped and replaced. If the reviews below mention content not present in chapters 1 and 2, it came from here.]
 
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zion of arcadia

too much of my own quietness is with me
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. marowak-alola
Hey, Luker. Excited to check out your stuff. It’s pretty late and I’m a little loopy so hopefully this is coherent, lol.

I always find stories based on roleplays fascinating. They tend to have a bit of a different rhythm to them, even when they’re rewritten for more of a traditional novel experience. Like there are several scenes once our deuteragonists are introduced that feels like a volley session is happening back and forth between two writers. And that’s not a bad thing, just different.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s chat about the opening prologue.

The biggest thing that stuck out to me was Mathew building his own portal. I really liked that! It still has a dash of happenstance to it, as Mathew needed D. E.’s notes as a baseline, but the idea of the main character choosing to leave and using his specific skill set to do so, instead of forcibly being dropped there, makes for a nice change of pace.

I do feel Mathew’s desperation to leave wasn’t necessarily explored in as satisfying a way as possible. He’s just like, yeah, let’s go, and then devotes months of his life to this other world he’s never seen. You could’ve leaned more into his paranoia, made him hesitate to believe it, or leaned more into the obsessive aspect. As it is, it feels like he agrees very quickly just to move the story along.

That said, I understand that on a pacing level you probably just wanted to get to the world of pokemon since that’s where all the interesting stuff waits.

Regardless, I’m super curious to learn what occurred during the eight month time gap. It sounds like the mystery of Joey (and the other humans?) happened over the course of that time frame. Test subjects, maybe? That’d be kinda dark. Maybe friends/kid of a friend who helped out (before things went ~~wrong~~).

When Joey was first revealed, I’ll admit, I at first thought he was Mathew somehow turned into an amnesiac teenager, lol. I was glad to be wrong at that account, although maybe you could’ve named them just a tad bit sooner, haha. It’s cool Mathew and Joey are both human, and what’s more, already know each other from earth. It’s another layer of mystery to unravel and I’m super curious to see where you take it.

I haven’t quite pinned down Mathew’s personality outside of ‘smart’. A lot of his reactions have an everyman feel to them, but then he’ll also occasionally pivot and do or say something that shows his flexibility toward the current situation. Like when he went toward the pikachu that tried to blow him and Joey up. Even though the scenario itself is hyperbolic and absurd, I liked how he adjusted from his original encounter with Joey and decided to just trust the stranger and see what happened. Of course, he’s also hiding quite a few secrets, and what those secrets are, exactly, will probably reveal more of his character.

Joey seems a lot more straightforward. He’s got a lot of common sense and speaks in a straightforward, colloquial manner. Some of his speech patterns were a little iffy (the way he said tarnation just felt like a meme lol), but he seems to balance the more cerebral Mathew nicely. It’s interesting that there’s quite the age gap between them, too; I wonder if that’ll come into play at all.

Sometimes the prose can be a little awkward. I won’t put too much emphasis on it since you seem to have already done an entire reboot/rewrite, just make a couple of minor comments:

The man also found surveyance useless.

Surveyance is a rather archaic word. Most of the diction you use generally hovers around the colloquial to semi-formal level. Could’ve changed it to, say, ‘The man was forced to agree’ to better fit the rest of the story.

That comment put a lightbulb in his head.

Bit of a mixed metaphor. ‘Lit a lightbulb…’ or 'A lightbulb went off' or something along those lines would’ve been more accurate and read a touch cleaner.

It’s a stylistic choice at the end of the day, and therefore up to you, but the overabundance of capitalized letters gave me flashbacks to reading Order of the Phoenix in high school. Angsty Harry Potter isn’t real, he can’t hurt me, lol. Could’ve maybe eased back on them somewhat.

... the dwellers of their desert Earth were quick to scourge one another...

... two-story buildings crafted out of brick and sheetrock with steel roofs which gleaned the light of the sun towards his eyes...

Both these sentences are examples of you using a word where I think a similarly spelled yet different word would fit better. Swapping out scourge for scrounged and beaned for beamed in this instance. It happens a couple times throughout the chapter and might help give your writing more clarity. Your syntax is pretty solid for the most part, minus some awkwardness in the prologue, but then isn’t really a problem once Joey and co. show up.

I love the sandwich scene. It’s cute and funny. That is all.

The fight with the two wingull lasted a long time for a fight against some wingull. Maybe that’s just my natural distaste for their species shining through, haha. When Mathew crushed one of them with a tree I was just like, ‘that seems so excessive.’ Pfft.

On a serious note, it’s a solid fight scene with some funny moments. The only head scratcher for me was when they acted all shocked that the wingull flew through the forest after them. I’m not sure if I just misunderstood the descriptions of the forest or what, but it struck me as common sense, and yet they both seemed surprised at being followed. That moment also suffered somewhat from the cardinal sin of slowing down the pacing of an action scene by having characters explain this or that to each other.

If you don't want these wingulls to peck out our eyes like an Alfred Hitchcock movie, you're gonna have to act as my eyes and tell me if those things try something.

I actually found this reference super interesting. I’m assuming you’re referring to The Birds, a movie I usually associate with female sexuality and violence. However, Hitchcock is quoted saying that, “... the birds in the film rise up against the humans to punish them for taking nature for granted.” Double Edged has already alluded to the destruction of nature playing a role in the apocalypse, and it seems like a theme that might be pursued further. There were a couple of clever pop culture references made in the chapter, but this one was easily my favorite.

Also, I just realized Doubled Edged and D.E. share the same initials. LMAO. My brain is too mushy atm to figure out what that might mean.

"IT'S A FLUKE IN EVERY SENSE. THAT WINGULL WAS UNBELIEVABLY FRAIL."

… Why must everyone be so loud and hostile? ;.;

That said, I definitely agree with the robot there.

I have no idea what to think of Jermy yet. I like his style though.

This was going to be great. Mathew could feel it.

And nothing bad happened ever again ever. The end. :)

Random poem I found that reminded me of this story:

I have come home, and I find
they were all unnecessary—
those glorious imperfections—
and they are all gone.
I have come home, and oh my God,
I am in a foreign land.

--Laura Ulewicz, “I have come home”

Have a good day! Hope the team keeps up the good work.
 
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kintsugi

golden scars | pfp by sun
Location
the warmth of summer in the songs you write
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. silvally-grass
  2. lapras
  3. golurk
  4. booper-kintsugi
  5. meloetta-kint-muse
  6. meloetta-kint-dancer
  7. murkrow
  8. yveltal
hi! I know you pointed me somewhere else for your Blitz prize, but I thought it was very sweet that you did that so I wanted to check out your work as well. Read the prologue and chapter 1 like you recommended.

I'm a bit reminded of Mother 3 or Undertale, where some of the characters will have pretty exaggerated but realistic reactions when a normal story might expect them to be more toned down in order to go along with the plot--Mathew's reaction to seeing a crazy interdimensional demon pop up into his living room, ORB's enthusiasm, Joey's very incorrect takes on peanut butter. There's a cute sort of memetic feel in all of these characters, like they're a little larger than life, and I feel like they'd be right at home in a videogame! Definitely captured the cheerful vibes I get from PMD while still giving you a lot of interesting angles of your own--Mathew's apocalyptic world origin story is definitely a bit darker than the main series, for example.

Speaking of! Mathew is the first of our protagonists (deuteragonists? tritagonists?) that we meet, and I like a lot of the decisions you've made here. Him choosing to go into the PMD world and actively engineering it to be so is a nice shake-up of the original formula, for example, and it opens up a lot of questions--what kind of person actively chooses to leave their world in favor of the vast unknown? I like the theming of an engineer there; seems like a very aerospace-adjacent goal to be like, ya know, maybe I will just yeet into this portal just to see what's out there. Other than that, I like that he's a bit calmer (most of the time?) than the rest; Jermy's definitely a bit earnest in how much he wants to prove himself, while (at least Mathew views it this way) Joey is still a pretty young child. It's a good roundout to the dynamic, and I'm really interested in what history Mathew has in getting Joey here, who Greg and Catherine are, etc--smells like there's a lot of excellent character drama just waiting to be unleashed with those two.

Joey seems like a sweetheart! I like that he's sort of not really interested in all of the shenanigans here; I get the feeling that he's buying into this a lot less than Mathew is. He's played straight more like the standard PMD protagonists, with body dysphoria and amnesia and all, but again I do like the angle that someone else in his world remembers who he was--I am sure that there will be no issues whatsoever with that one in the future, nope! I thought the exchange of "you ever pulled a bandaid off real slow" / "bruh I literally just told you I have amnesia" was a fun character moment for these two to share, and I'm curious if that kind of mentality will stick--there's a lot of little things we learn that we take for granted until they're no longer there.

Jermy's a bit of an enthusiast, and I'm glad he's really buying into this because it doesn't seem like Joey's gonna, lol. He seems eager to prove himself, which I am again sure will result in no issues whatsoever.

There's a lot of questions that I hope get answered later, too! Even beyond the really overarching ones like who is DE, why is he also the acronym for this fic, why the portal, are there more humans showing up and why isn't anyone surprised--smaller things like wingull just showing up out of nowhere to attack people causes some 👀 from me. This world probably isn't as rosy as Mathew would think.

I thought your setup here is really interesting! Again, reminded of a quasi-parody RPG; there's a lot of nose-thumbing towards some of the more conventional tropes and plot lines. The character balance here is interesting too--seems like this is based on an RP or something? I always like seeing these translate to fics since we get to see a lot more depth in the cast/there usually isn't a main character. Thanks for sharing this!

"YES!" The man shouted in blissful joy. It was done! He could finally leave this awful Earth! Frantically, he began assembling his supplies for the journey, throwing whatever he thought important into a light brown backpack. His special spinoff project breaking away from the blueprints? Take! An emergency lunch? Take! His video player? Uh… A little sentimental, but that was fine. And how could he leave behind his computer?! Thank God for protective sleeves…
In the prologue itself, I wanted to know a bit more about the world that Mathew was leaving, though, if he put thought into where he was going, what he expected to leave behind. I like that you make him take a long time (although, damn, eight months? killer timeline) instead of just cranking it out in an engineering music montage overnight. In these bits it seems like he almost isn't expecting to succeed? Which is a powerful sentiment in its own right, but I wanted to know a bit more about that dichotomy--how could he devote eight months of his life to this and not even consider what he was going to be packing? I think it's definitely possible, and the exact reasoning would say a lot about Mathew's character, but I couldn't quite follow what his motivation for this single-minded goal was. There's a lot of hints that 2064 in general is just a garbage fire, which, haha, fair, but I wanted a better understanding of where Mathew was going (or more specifically, where he thinks he's going). It's one thing to want to leave and another to pick a place to go, sorta thing.

---

I flagged this paragraph and then wrote some edits and then saw that you and Dragonfree had already workshopped this a lot, so feel free to ignore! I think this version reads a lot more clearly than the original, but I still got a little lost:
The streets of the Nevada town were coated in two layers — the first made of the darkness of night, the second made of the gloom of its citizens. When not bound to their homes by the blistering heat of day, the dwellers of their desert Earth were quick to scourge one another, desperate for resources. In spite of the cries of a governing body with its waned might, a depressing anarchy had besieged the land. This lawlessness was held to only one rule, not out of legality but of social circumstance: there was one house that was never visited by the scavengers that cut through the night like knives. The home was fabled with a tale that left its owner restless — and, on one night, restless he was indeed.
First sentence: "layers doesn't really feel like the right word here; darkness is a lot more 3D. And "the gloom of its citizens" doesn't really feel like it has much weight either--again, I don't really get an understanding of how that would be a visible layer. And I think it could be--maybe there's a ton of trash in the gutters because no one wants to pick it up, maybe everyone keeps their doors locked because they don't want to be attacked by scourgers. I think there are a lot more effective ways to demonstrate the gloominess of this alternate future beyond just layers, and it'd be interesting to dig into that a little.
Second sentence: hahaha sad global warming in nevada sounds "their desert Earth" seems like a strange construction as well, since it implies some sort of ownership/guardianship, when the point is that it's everyone for themself. I'm not sure what to make of "scourge" either--are people just purging each other in the streets, but only at night?
Third sentence: "depressing anarchy" is sort of in defiance of "in spite of the cries of a governing body"--anarchy only emerges when there's not a strong enough government to stop it, so "in spite" makes it seem like anarchy arising in a power vacuum isn't the norm. And "depressing" implies a sense of passivity, which seems to contradict the frequent murder/unrest in the previous sentence.
Fourth sentence: I thought this was an interesting thread! Why leave this one house alone? What could command such respect in a hellscape?

I'm not entirely sure if that question ever got answered in a satisfying way, if there's anything special about Mathew. At first I thought like, maybe he makes cool things for people, or he's built up such a cool reputation that he's defended by the various social groups that have arisen in the absence of a dedicated government--sort of a quid pro quo where he's earned their respect. But I don't really know if we get too far into that, and he certainly doesn't seem to have any desire to interact with anyone outside of his home either--so I thought it was kind of weird that they'd just let him? His house is full of wildly expensive shit.

Overall I think your prose is really fun and snappy; there are just a few places like these where I think it gets a little tangled and I found it hard to ascertain what was happening.

"Yeah. It's twenty sixty four," he mocked. "You're screwed, I'm screwed, the planet's screwed, it's the goddamn apocalypse. What about it?"
Silly Mathew, the apocalypse was in twenty twenty

"Yep!" The man leaned down and unzipped his backpack. "I packed a meal in case of an emergency. And while we eat, we can bond while sitting on…this!"
This one felt a bit too on-the-nose for me--I'm not really sure if I've ever really just been like "hello let us bond so we can be friends"

It took a second to comfortably slip it under his mask, but it was worth it to clear the substance from his mouth.
I wondered why he bothers keeping the mask on here? Like obviously for cubone it would be of massive importance, but Mathew doesn't have any of that stigma or weight attached to it, and in this case it's just sort of in his way lol.

I do really like the dramatic irony of Mathew maybe being the one who killed Joey's parents being the adult who is a cubone while there is a (maybe) orphan child who is not a cubone
A big appetite. That gave Mathew pause. Oh God… he had a big appetite
This felt almost a bit comical! Like, Mathew's information here is mostly 1) an age and 2) a teenager is hungry--and he gets it right!! It's the kind of logic I expect to see in these threads, where the point is to gather tiny bits of evidence that could apply to anyone and then galaxy brain point to an answer, but it turns out that Mathew's 100% on the money here! Makes me think that maybe he knows something else, and maybe he accidentally yeeted Joey here and was expecting to see him ...

"Basically, we're going to work together on this little job called the Pick-it Up Club before we do anything serious," Jermy said. "They clean trash!"
bby no that's an unpaid internship

And since when had his feelings ever led him astray?
oh yeah I'm sure they're gonna be fine
 

Ambyssin

Gotta go back. Back to the past.
Location
Residency hell
Pronouns
he/him
Partners
  1. silvally-dragon
  2. necrozma-ultra
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. dreepy
  6. mewtwo-ambyssin
Merry reviewmas! This is probably going to be redundant to what other people said. Oh well. @.@

Prologue: Someone’s about to die, aren’t they?
-Very purple prose in those opening few paragraphs. I’m not entirely sure if Nevada here is supposed to be a dig at some rural town there or, like, in a post-apocalyptic state based on the descriptions given. And this is me putting on my nitpicky medical glasses, but if this guy had really been going such a long time without proper sleep, he’d be in much worse shape than thinking he was hallucinating. Maybe he’s just got bad insomnia instead?
-Also, Mr. Soon to Die Guy said a naughty. D:
-2064, huh. So, this is the Fallout: New Vegas world, then? First thing that comes to mind anyway. The light’s dialogue feels kind of, um, exposition-y. Like it’s just telling us about the Engineer instead of his abilities being shown in a more organic way. There’s also a big of add disconnect between the purple, but grim narration and this really casual dialogue. If the intention was for the light to be a funny sort of prophecy force and not a serious one, then it works.
-Also you need to be consistent with 2064; the first time you write it as numbers, the second time you spell out the individual numbers.
-D.E. Double-Edged. I see you. But, seriously, eight months in what’s apparently some sort of Fallout-esque hellscape and there’s nothing to mention about what happened in the interim? Was our hero just… secluded in his house all that time? How did he get food or whatever? I feel like showing off stuff he did in the interim would’ve gone a long way toward showing how bad Earth is in this fic and why the protag is eagerly willing to abandon ship.
-Also an eight month gap brings up curious questions of how time passes b/w Earth and Solceus. I would have to assume it doesn’t… otherwise whatever peril Solceus is in would undoubtedly worsen in all this time.

Ch 1: \[T]/ PRAISE THE SUN SOL \[T]/
-Ah, yes, classic isekai memory loss. That said, a lot of tense confusion at the start. The questions Joey’s asking himself in prose should still be in past tense. E.g. “Where were his parents?” and “Who were his parents?” If you want to make it present tense, you have to turn them into thoughts so they can behave like dialogue instead. Similarly, “That was” doesn’t contract to “That’s.” So, it would be “That was not a mouth. That was… a maw.”
-Also, looks like the forum ate your line break, as it took me a moment to pick up on the POV change. And I’m not sure it’s really accurate to refer to this cubone as a man anymore, especially once he realizes what species he is.
-That said, you caught me by surprise with the double isekai bit. Wasn’t expecting Joey =/= Mathew. Just thought there was some time-space stuff at play for the age going back and the memory loss. And apparently they know each other; though I guess it’s unilateral. I do find Mathew’s initial behavior a bit on the “less than age-appropriate” side for someone in his mid-30s, but if he’s been socially isolated, then maybe he just lacks people skills?
-Not a huge fan of the constant ALL CAPS for shouting purposes, I’m afraid. I used it a bit early on, too, but it tended to be sparingly. Used so frequently here, it lessens the whole shouting impact. The exclamation points at the end should be enough to show it, but if not you could always do so with body language like cupping paws around a mouth or something. And that especially goes for ORB’s dialogue. I know you’re going for robot speech, but I think you’re better off finding some sort of alternative quote type like brackets [].
-Well, it felt like a fair amount happened here and the characters were whisked from one thing to the next. Though I’m not really sure how I feel about it, to be perfectly honest. In some ways it seemed like this chapter was running through a checklist of sorts, especially since it was basically one giant scene only disconnected by a POV swap. Only easy solution I can think of is splitting the chapter in half near the point where the wingull attack.

tl;dr: simple prose can be your friend, ALL CAPS writing can make you seem like a really young author, and consider if your long chapters have potential stopping points in them.
 

Pen

the cat is mightier than the pen
Staff
Partners
  1. dratini
  2. dratini-pen
  3. dratini-pen2
Hey, here for your Review Blitz prize. You said you most wanted feedback on chapter three, so I read up through that.

Mathew is an engineer from the year 2064, a loner in the midst of an apocalypse. He's given blueprints to enter the pokemon world by a mysterious light sent by D.E. Joey is a teenager from the same world, the friend of Mathew's son, who seems to have been separated from Mathew in tragic circumstances along with Mathew's wife. He is also isekaid, but without the use of a portal, and his entry into the pokemon world is as of yet unexplained. He is amnesiac in some respects, but remembers pop culture. Jermy is a pikachu with an AI orb called ORB who works for D.E. D.E. wants to test Mathew by having him pick up trash at Mr. Persian's company. Mr. Persian is Meowth's father, and the two of them have a tense relationship. We have also met a Mincinno obsessed with cleaning, a grovyle who runs a sweet shop, and a Politoed and Breloom who also work for the trash-cleaning company.

You mentioned this is a novelization of an RP, and I think that's perhaps why I don't have a strong sense yet of what the story is really about. Campaigns are free-wheeling and episodic by nature--gag characters pop up and make everyone laugh, sudden spirits arise from the sand, spitting bad Shakespearian language for the other players to mock. That stuff is a lot of fun to experience when you're in the room, but on paper it can end up feeling a bit random and undirected. Absurdity is well and good, but without plot or characters arcs to ground it, there's not much for the reader to get invested in. The dialogue has a tendency to shoot off into long tangents, which again are probably fun to play out, but fit less well into a narrative. When I'm four chapters in, it's nice to have a sense of what the stakes in the story are, what the different characters want.

Mathew's sole motivation seems to have been leaving his apocalyptic world, and he really doesn't care what happens now that he's here--thus the fact that he spends most of his time joking and goofing around. The only thing that seems to bother him is that he might have to talk about what happened with Catherine and Greg. The fact that he wondered if they had been visited by the light too implies they aren't dead, but they're clearly not with Mathew and the way he doesn't want to think or talk about them suggests something bad must have happened between them. Since Mathew doesn't have much stake in what's happening, it's hard to care too much about what happens to him. One way to up the stakes for him would be the threat that he could be sent back to Nevada--but can he? If the light couldn't just poof him into the PMD world, it probably can't just poof him back. I'm surprised that Mathew, an inventor, isn't more interested in exploring what technological capabilities the PMD world offers. He worries about his laptop being smashed, but I don't think we've seen him try to use it yet. Joey, as an amnesiac, is also left without stakes. He wants to know who he is, but that desire has been pretty passive so far. One place you could introduce tension is if Joey wants to return to the world he's from, forcing Mathew into the position of either helping him or explaining what 2064 is actually like and why that's a bad idea. The interactions between Meowth and his dad and their sort of power struggle have stood out most to me. But I can't quite grasp what Meowth wants, exactly. He's being sidelined in the clean-up crew, but also, he clearly doesn't try very hard, so that's not very surprising. Finally, Jermy and the ORB mostly seem to be around for comic relief.

The pick-up-trash plot has been confusing me a little. I don't quite get why picking up trash in mystery dungeons is even much of a thing--are they frequented enough that a lot of litter accumulates? It seems like mystery dungeons would be the least littered place. Having this be a task specifically set by D.E. feels very video-game, like it's here to kill time.

In chapter three specifically, Joey looks at the scrapbook, but Mathew refuses to discuss it further. They get an orientation at their trash job and meet new co-workers, Politoed and Breloom, who will be assessing them. At the beach, Mathew quickly gets bored with picking up trash and tries to gamify it, but at that moment a spirit attacks, taking Orb hostage and doing a lot of monologing. Joey tries to help but is forced to come clean about his amnesia and admit he doesn't know how to fight. I didn't really follow why the spirit was attacking them or what it really wanted. Them not to pick up the trash? If it's the only actually inhabitant of that beach, maybe they should respect its request? Like, what public are they actually serving here? And why is the beach so trashed anyway? I felt like some parts of this chapter could have been condensed, particularly the sequence where Joey reads the scrapbook, some of the small talk with Politoed and Breloom, and the monologing from the sand spirit.

Here are some line-by-lines--I focused mostly on chapter three.

The streets of the Nevada town were coated in two layers — the first made of the darkness of night, the second made of the gloom of its citizens. When not bound to their homes by the blistering heat of day, the dwellers of their desert Earth were quick to scourge one another, desperate for resources. In spite of the cries of a governing body with its waned might, a depressing anarchy had besieged the land. This lawlessness was held to only one rule, not out of legality but of social circumstance: there was one house that was never visited by the scavengers that cut through the night like knives. The home was fabled with a tale that left its owner restless — and, on one night, restless he was indeed.
Looks like you've gotten a lot of feedback about this one already. I'll just say that the tone and prose here doesn't match the rest of the story, and in an opening paragraph, you kind of want to hook your readers with a preview of what your story's actually going to be like.

It had been months since this room, now nearly barren besides a bed and a dresser, or these dreams, now filled to the brim with pricks and pains, had felt like his own.
His dreams don't feel like his own? What does that mean?

With nowhere else to go in this all-consuming void of a bed, he turned his exhausted body to face the side with the dresser. There was nothing there… Nothing he could speak of.
"All-consuming" strikes me as a weird choice of words when his problem is he can't sleep. If it were all-consuming, he'd probably be asleep.

The man hopped out of the hopeless endeavor.
If the hopeless endeavor is trying to sleep, how do you "hop out" of it?

The light was so overwhelming. He screamed as his back began to slide down the door until he was sitting on the wooden floor. With unnerving accuracy, his hands slid into a low kitchen drawer and pulled a knife. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" he screamed. "I'm not ready to go crazy yet!"
Capitals can be a bit much to read, and you really don't need them to tell us he's shouting.

"Yeah. It's twenty sixty four," he mocked. "You're screwed, I'm screwed, the planet's screwed, it's the goddamn apocalypse. What about it?"
That's an interesting setting choice. From having read the rest, it doesn't seem like too big a focus of the story, though.

this thesis of progress
I'm not sure how this device is a "thesis of progress"?

It looked miserable, only barely blending with the blueprints' design and having been bent down to fit the ceiling of his burnt dining room, but thanks to some mercilessly expensive purchases for materials online, he had finally completed the project. For the thirteenth time.
Not sure "blending with" is the word you want. Matching? Following? Miroring?

After the man finished bargaining his soul, having bargained everything else he still had aside from the snazzy-looking suit and burgundy polka-dotted tie he had put on just in case he ended up warping into a meeting or something, he decided it was time.
I don't see how he bargained his soul?

I wonder what Solceans worship? Don't they have, what's his name...Arceus? Is D.E. Arceus?
This seems like a very weird tidbit of knowledge for someone who's pplayed a few pokemon games to have. None of the games mention Arceus being worshiped; in fact, Arceus doesn't appear at all in the plots of the pokemon games except for maybe its statute being in Explorers of Sky? Pokemon worship Arceus is very much a fandom thing.

Not that it mattered, since he didn't know anybody in this town anymore.
He doesn't know anyone in town, but they still know to keep away from his house?

It pushed and pulled as if it were the breath of the Earth.
Maybe "ebbed and flowed"? Pushing and pulling doesn't equate to breath for me.

He figured he was smart enough to avoid rip currents.
Smart enough? This framing struck me as odd. You either are familiar with rip currents and can spot them or you aren't, but it really doesn't have much to do with being smart.

But the beach behind him was strewn with bags, boxes, cans, shards of plastic, loose paper prints with unfamiliar logos on them… It was kind of a mess, if the boy wanted to be honest. Was he near civilization or not? Either way, the lack of anyone in sight was a bad sign.
Well, litter is generally the first sign of civilization, yeah.

"Hey, you gotta stay with me!" The totodile's remark didn't make the man flinch any less when he grabbed his arm. The man held still, listening to him. "I'm scared too, but if we freak out, we ain't gonna get nowhere. I reckon we can get ourselves un-lost if we keep cool."
The sixteen-year-old seems a lot more rational than the supposed engineering genius.

"You, uh, wanted to bond while we eat, right?" The totodile asked.
This line was a little odd. Is that the kind of thing you say to someone?

"I can get down to a Joey with optimism."
"get down to" isn't really an idiomatic construction?

The sassy energy radiating from Jermy's scans only cemented the strange presentation Mathew was getting from Jermy.
I couldn't parse this sentence or what it meant. What about Jermy is being cemented here? What does the Orb's "sassy" energy have to do with it?

With a sigh, Minichino began fruitlessly pacing around, taking their defiance of the pikachu’s order to stay still from a focused venture to a floundering rage.
"fruitlessly pacing" doesn't equate to "floundering rage" in my mind.

"Ha-HA! SUCKER!" she shouted, immediately leaping away from him before running straight back into the woods.

"Where are you going?!" Joey exclaimed.

"I'M GONNA CLEAN THIS WHOLE DANG FOREST! YOU'LL SEE!" Minichino shouted back. There she went, leaving the other four pokémon behind, dumbfounded.
Mincichino is so over-the-top I don't really know what to say about her. She wants to clean things. That's basically all she is, as far as I can tell?

Meowth eyed the pikachu as he laughed the comment off for the second time this conversation. Why was this robot so insulting? Why did Jermy only reply sometimes and ignore him other times? Would Meowth ever stop asking questions he probably isn't prepared to hear the answers to? All a part of today's great list of mysteries, he supposed.
This kind of lampshading can feel a little cutsey--like, you tell me! In writing, everything is a choice, so as I reade I expect some kind of coherence behind the choices made.

Meowth turned his head around to look at the town outside of the gondola, soaking in the clarity of what was far away.
"the clarity of what was far away" is a little hard to envision.

"Well, Meowth… Erm… You…play a very important role in this company!" Like a lightswitch, his father's face had flicked from something resembling emotion to a hollowly charismatic grin. He always made that face when he was lying.
Does Meowth want to play a important role?

The past few years of Meowth's life had been spent living in drab unknowns. These three strangers posed to him an opportunity to pursue some answers…but if he let his father house them out of his sight, he'd certainly lose that chance. He had to act.
I didn't quite follow what answers the strangers are allowing him to pursue?

There, on the counter, lay the scrapbook. Joey hadn't found the time yesterday to open it up, what with Jermy learning of his amnesia and prodding him about it all evening.
"what with" is a bit of a clunky construction. Maybe try out an em dash here, "Joey hadn't yet found the time to open it up—yesterday Jermy had learned of his amnesia and prodded him about it all evening."

He wanted nothing more than to get some answers about who he is, but Joey was fearful of the accursed scenario of picking the book up, checking the first page, and then immediately getting interrupted and informed that it's time to depart for their first day with the Pick-it Up Club.
Tenses are a little off here. Should be, "He wanted nothing more than to get some answers about who he was, but Joey feared that he would pick the book up, check the first page, and then immediately get interrupted and informed that it was time to depart for their first day with the Pick-it Up Club." (Accursed feels a little over the top as an adjective here?)

He had no idea where that fear came from, but nonetheless that frustration had been filling his mind since he had awoken right at dawn.
Fear and frustration are pretty different emotions, so it reads a little strangely when one morphs into another within a sentence.

So Joey laid
*lay

He had no idea where that fear came from, but nonetheless that frustration had been filling his mind since he had awoken right at dawn.
Joey almost wanted to shout in frustration.
Lot of frustration here.

"I'll hop to it then." Jermy stepped out of his room, letting the door slide back shut. Joey gave a sigh of relief — aside from the brief interruption for the delivery of his eggs, the human-turned-totodile could finally read in peace.
This whole seuqnece with him reading the scapbook felt very dragged out. I'm not sure what would be lost with having him look through it when he wakes up, without the odd waiting for someone to come and get him and then being interrupted.

It was as if this brown-haired woman and this shaggy man with a weakly shaven neck had traveled the world together with how many unique places, though the human-turned-crocodile could guess that was a bit of an exaggeration.
I'm not sure how it's an exaggeration? It seems to be literally true that the two traveled together.

They were at a trailhead, the top of a small mountain, surrounded by brick buildings resembling what little he had seen of Kalmwa'er's Higher Education campus, at a concert, at a barbeque with a bunch of people, at the top of some skyscraper in what Joey thought could be New York City, though it looked a little less pretty than he knew it as…
Hm, so is this pre-apocalypse? Do any of these places strike a chord for Joey? He clearly knows what a barbecue, a concert, and New York City are, which is a lot of info for an amnesiac.

Joey skimmed through these photos that kept losing their remarkability by the page, searching for some kind of big change.
In what way are they losing their remarkability? Maybe "novelty" would be a better fit here?

"Something tells me I'm gettin' put on the sidelines like a squirrel hide on a highway…" he muttered to himself, sunken.
A vivid image . . . is a squirrel hide really sidelined, though?

"Oh, that's for our band!" Breloom said.

"You have a band?!" Mathew asked. "And like, make music and shit?!"

"That's what bands do, yes!"

"Haven't really published anything yet," Politoed clarified. "Still toying with our sound. Short a few members, too — won't make it anywhere with just the three of us, especially when Groov's our only really good instrumentalist and we want to play live someday. Were some new member ideas he brought to us, but I'm not a fan of them, so…"

"You've gotta show me your stuff at some point!" Mathew said. "I'd love to hear it."

"We have some recordings around!" Breloom said. "Maybe we could invite you over after work some day?"
This dialogue felt a bit superfluous. Is it important for the plot or character arcs that they have a band?

"I… I did?" Joey slowly brought himself back to his feet. When he turned around, Mathew, Jermy, and Meowth were specs in the distance. If he put his hand up to his eye, they were no taller than the distance between his nubby fingers.

"Yeah! Did you, like, run track or something like that in Lower Ed? Or Elementary? Whatever you called it." Minichino approached him with her own tail in her paws
Huh, tododile as fast runner is a little incongruous. I don't think any realworld muscles he might have from running would really carry over.

Joey watched as the exhausted trio stumbled towards them. The totodile expected them to seem exhausted, but clearly they had paced themselves much more wisely than he. They were more dishelved than anything.
The wording feels off here. The trio is described as exhausted but then the next sentence says Joey expected them to seem exhausted, but they weren't. Cutting exhausted in the first sentence would remove that weirdness, I think. The phrase in the last sentence probably should be completed, "They were more disheveled than anything else."

Mathew groaned. "Great. Just wonderful…"

"NOTED: MATHEW'S ADVERSE TO BUSYWORK," ORB declared, his spinning wheel kicking up a tiny wave of a sand.

"I am not!" Mathew snapped back. "I can work, but that doesn't mean I have to like sudden overtime."

"NOTED: MATHEW TALKS BACK TO HIS SUPERIORS."

Mathew muttered a million curses under his breath.

"It's really not that tedious," Meowth stated, slightly miffed at his whining. He was already scribbling away, using his medical kit as a surface to write on. "It's a short walk at worst."

The additional blow from the last remaining evaluator seemed to shut Mathew up completely. Joey almost felt bad for the dogpiling. With the knowledge that the critical eye would give no mercy, he hardened himself further.
I wasn't sure I followed Joey's thoughts here. He wasn't participating in the dogpiling, right? And why "almost" feel bad? The language about them being evaluated is pretty dramatic here, but does Joey really care? What's at stake if they fail?

Instantly, Politoed, Breloom, and Meowth were right on him, penning like mad.
I don't understand the phrase "penning like mad."

"Don't worry, it's easy!" the rodent reassured his robot. "Now, I'm thinking of a classical...fast pace...I think it has to do with horses?"

"NOW PLAYING: BEETHOVEN'S SEVENTH—"

"Wait!" Joey exclaimed. A factoid reached the surface of his mind. "I reckon Jermy's talking about William Tell Overture. It's played a lot for horse races."

Politoed gave Joey a confused look. "Never heard of this William—"

"WELL, IT LOOKS JOEY WAS GOOD FOR SOMETHING AFTER ALL," ORB said. "NOW PLAYING: WILLIAM TELL OVERTURE: FINALE, WITH A LOWERED TEMPO." From ORB emerged the sounds of an energetic orchestra, playing a song Joey somehow found both very familiar and brand new at the same time.
I was confused as to how Jermy and Joey know the same earth music? Unless Jermy is also from earth?

"I hath seized your kin!" A voice boomed.
* a voice boomed.

"ANALYSIS COMPLETE: THIS GUY'S SPEECH QUIRK SUCKS," ORB spoke, revealing himself as within the sand monster's body. "HE BARELY EVEN USES THE DIALECT RIGHT."
Hm, lampshading that the ye olde dialogue is incorrect doesn't stop that dialogue from being a bit of a slog to get through.

In a way not unlike a sink sucking in water, ORB was sucked downwards into the sand.
I don't quite follow this simile. How do sinks suck in water? Do you mean the way a water drains down a sink?

It was then that Joey realized that Mathew had given him two gifts. One was the scrapbook. The other was this moment right now, where it seemed like both sides of time could one day lay clear to him. "It sure does, pardner."
The wording of "both sides of time" was unclear to me. What does that mean?

This moment felt a little unearned to me, considering the rest of the chapter is basically shenanigans.
 

Ambyssin

Gotta go back. Back to the past.
Location
Residency hell
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  1. silvally-dragon
  2. necrozma-ultra
  3. milotic
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  5. dreepy
  6. mewtwo-ambyssin
Rustle…rustle…rus—
Generally speaking, this kind of onomatopoeia stuff is better suited for visual mediums like comics, not written works.
"PLASTIC BOTTLE ATTACK, GO!"
How very, uh, anime?
ON A WILD GOOSE CHASE
Do animals exist in this world? If not, how would the non-humans know what a goose is? This also applies to the prose from Meowth's POV using epithets like chinchilla for minccino. It doesn't logically add up if chinchilla's never existed in the world. Similarly, Meowth should know all of the species he comes across, so it's perfectly okay to refer to them by species name. Your audience knows what they are.
And by 'other time,' I mean never, Meowth figured he meant.
Since it's Meowth thinking this, you should probably put this on a separate paragraph from the other character's dialogue.
"…Damn." Meowth spotted Mathew eyeing the kit in his paw.
Similarly, the arrangement of words here makes it seem like Meowth's the one speaking, not Mathew.
"Oh." Joey paused. "Why can't all of Kalmwa'er be this purty?"

"I'll take 'capitalism' for five hundred, Pat," Mathew remarked.
ow, the biting social commentary. Also, you got the Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune hosts backwards. >:/
This grovyle couldn't be more emo if he tried.
I take offense to this. :P
The plural of pikachu is technically pikachu XD
"HE STATED YOUR GETUP WAS ORIGINAL, NOT GOOD, JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE WHO DOESN'T HAVE THE GUTS TO TELL YOU IT LOOKS STUPID."
I still don't like the ALL CAPS for robot dialogue, but I also feel like there's a law of robotics joke I can make here. Just not sure what it'd be specifically.
And that there's something horrible about you I'm gonna avoid saying to be nice.
I'm not sure who's supposed to be thinking this. Meowth? He's the POV character, so he's the only one we should be getting thoughts from...
"Why is it so hard to get a good education? Mom and Dad tried everything they could and they still can't pay for it."
... ow, more biting social commentary.

So, I think the back end of the chapter was the interesting part. Everything up until they actually meet Persian felt like a lot of lolrandom humor and left me really unsure of what direction things were supposed to be going in. I hesitate to use the word padding, but that's really all I could think about up until they reached the hotel. It didn't feel like there was world building going on for the city, more like an attempt to show the audience that everyone here is super-quirky, except for Meowth who has this "surrounded by idiots" vibe going on. I hesitate to suggest getting rid of things, but I feel like the whole conversation with Edgevyle wasn't really necessary. Certainly not the weight jokes and the weird bickering about chocolate. <.<;

The ending parts were more interesting because it hints at a strained family dynamic b/w Meowth and Persian... as well as some latent distrust b/w Meowth and Jermy and what's clearly suspicion toward the two ex-humans. It begs the question how much Jermy and Persian know. Does Meowth want to get into the loop? Is he going to throw a monkey wrench into things? Who's to say?
 

LukerUpgradez

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Alright, we are back! After making major revisions to chapters 1 and 2 and dropping 3 for a better idea, we are finally ready to post a new chapter! We've only been gone since...November? And it's late May?! Yeesh...

Before we drop the new chapter, here is a brief response to all of the reviews we received during the review exchange at the start of the year. We really have all of you to thank, as your feedback motivated us to fix the story up!

Word made up of letters. Word make sentence. Sentence make paragraph. Paragraphs make story.
When Joey was first revealed, I’ll admit, I at first thought he was Mathew somehow turned into an amnesiac teenager, lol. I was glad to be wrong at that account...
There were a surprising amount of people who didn't catch that 'the man' and 'the boy' were supposed to be separate people. Hopefully the new name for the chapter eliminates that doubt, hahaha.
It’s a stylistic choice at the end of the day, and therefore up to you, but the overabundance of capitalized letters gave me flashbacks to reading Order of the Phoenix in high school. Angsty Harry Potter isn’t real, he can’t hurt me, lol. Could’ve maybe eased back on them somewhat.
Yeah, most people weren't a fan of caps lock. This new iteration gets rid of almost all caps lock, mostly notably for ORB's character.
I actually found this reference super interesting. I’m assuming you’re referring to The Birds, a movie I usually associate with female sexuality and violence. However, Hitchcock is quoted saying that, “... the birds in the film rise up against the humans to punish them for taking nature for granted.” Double Edged has already alluded to the destruction of nature playing a role in the apocalypse, and it seems like a theme that might be pursued further. There were a couple of clever pop culture references made in the chapter, but this one was easily my favorite.
I'm glad you liked this reference! It's my personal favorite of chapter one, too. I made sure to preserve it in the chapter, even with the wildly different execution.
I'm a bit reminded of Mother 3 or Undertale, where some of the characters will have pretty exaggerated but realistic reactions when a normal story might expect them to be more toned down in order to go along with the plot
You hit it right on the money! The Mother series and Undertale are major inspirations for the tone of Double-Edged. It is quite a serious story, but there's a comedy to the world and characters that either contrasts the dark elements or makes them significantly more sad. It's a style that's so fun to write in because it's so dynamic without being inconsistent.
Well, it felt like a fair amount happened here and the characters were whisked from one thing to the next. Though I’m not really sure how I feel about it, to be perfectly honest. In some ways it seemed like this chapter was running through a checklist of sorts, especially since it was basically one giant scene only disconnected by a POV swap. Only easy solution I can think of is splitting the chapter in half near the point where the wingull attack.
So, I think the back end of the chapter was the interesting part. Everything up until they actually meet Persian felt like a lot of lolrandom humor and left me really unsure of what direction things were supposed to be going in. I hesitate to use the word padding, but that's really all I could think about up until they reached the hotel.
You definitely were on to something here. Chapters 1 and 2 were held together by duct tape that we desperately hoped people would fail to notice. Sadly, the fact that the story was meandering aimlessly was showing through anyway. However, we felt that the solution wasn't that the chapters needed to be broken up to prevent boredom, but to change the way the chapters were structured to eradicate the boring parts.
You mentioned this is a novelization of an RP, and I think that's perhaps why I don't have a strong sense yet of what the story is really about. Campaigns are free-wheeling and episodic by nature--gag characters pop up and make everyone laugh, sudden spirits arise from the sand, spitting bad Shakespearian language for the other players to mock. That stuff is a lot of fun to experience when you're in the room, but on paper it can end up feeling a bit random and undirected. Absurdity is well and good, but without plot or characters arcs to ground it, there's not much for the reader to get invested in. The dialogue has a tendency to shoot off into long tangents, which again are probably fun to play out, but fit less well into a narrative. When I'm four chapters in, it's nice to have a sense of what the stakes in the story are, what the different characters want.
This sorta relates to what I mentioned with the previous response. This is not a product of us starting from an RP -- this is a product of us throwing ideas at a wall and praying they stick without putting conscious thought into the development of the plot and characters. That's why the original chapter 3 had to be struck from the story and replaced. The original idea did not have any story progression in mind; the chapter that will be released momentarily handily counters this issue.
 
Chapter 3

LukerUpgradez

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Chapter 3: David Emmons
Boy, was Jermy in over his head.

Although he had no issues with being kind and reassuring to the two new recruits on the outside, internally, he couldn't help but worry. This was only his second day on the job, and already things were going awry, what with them housing under the roof of Mr. Persian's kid. It was hard to tell if he had already screwed the pooch or not by allowing that.

At least they'd managed to arrive at the Resort for their first proper training session at a good time. Dawn had yet to break, so the usually bright and active lobby was left in a dark shade and an empty, desolate atmosphere. It was almost like a visage had broken, revealing the family-friendly hotel as some kind of monster trying to...eat them, or something.

Bah, it was always tough to form a cohesive thought this early in the morning. Jermy would think a decade's worth of early wake-up calls would change his sleep patterns enough to make it no issue for him, but that's not how this pikachu body rolled. At least he wasn't alone. As they approached Demurke awaiting them in the lobby, Mathew and Joey looked equally groggy.

"Good morning…!" she greeted, sounding cheery as ever. "Did you sleep w-well?"

Joey stretched his arms out. "I reckon I've slept better. We're up earlier than an early-bird rooster."

"Better get used to it," ORB said. "Between your Club work-day and adjustment period to Solcean life, this is the optimal hour to train you, assuming you go to bed early." Jermy was lucky to have ORB by his side to speak for him. Robots don't get tired.

"I dunno if we all did that." Joey gestured to Mathew, who had already collapsed into a beanbag chair and started snoring. The totodile turned to Demurke. "Did y'all ever ask around about my mom and dad?"

There was a clear guilt in her eyes as she slowly nodded. "No…signs of them anywhere. I-I'm sorry."

"Oh." Joey's posture drooped. "That's okay. I reckon I shouldn't have expected much. At least Mathew's let me keep that scrapbook… Thanks a bunch for trying, though."

Jermy listened to all this with a frown on his face. It was one thing for them to have recruited somebody with their memories fully intact. It was a whole 'nother thing for them to have also summoned a boy who just so happened to be familiar with him. Jermy wasn't warned that anything like this could happen…how was he supposed to handle it?

At least he and Demurke would have some time to train the pair on their own before any of the higher-ups get a look at them. Maybe they could help iron out this—

"Wow, I can't believe we've found a more sound sleeper than Jermy!"

Both he and Mathew lurched back as a big, brown, spotted wing grazed the cubone's chest. If Jermy wasn't awake before, he was now. "David! What the heck are you here for?!"

Even after all these years as pokemon, Jermy still wasn't used to his boss towering over him in size. Although David's eyes conveyed an air of excitement, it was hard to deny that the humanoid owl looked down on all of them. "This is Mathew's first day of training! I couldn't miss that! Plus, I'm sure you two could use the help today."

Upon hearing their clear comradery, Mathew stopped reaching for his bone club laid down next to the chair. "Sorry…"

"Oh, don't you worry your little head." David reached down with his — Fingertips? Feathertips? Jermy settled on wingtips — and patted him on the mask. "The first days are never easy."

"So, I reckon you're a friend of Jermy?" Joey asked.

"I'm his boss!" David pulled at the lab-coat beneath his wings. "David Emmons, head of O—SEAS' science division! Really putting the 'Scientific' in Scientific Excitement and…whatever the rest is."

Jermy tried to hide his annoyance. Some sense of formality would be appreciated.

Mathew immediately straightened his posture and masked his tiredness. "Good morning, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you." He bowed for the decidueye.

"I could say the same! Feels like I've been waiting for years." David then turned to Joey. "And you must be the little Mr. Johdaile! Welcome aboard."

"Uh, hi." Joey's bow was more hasty and less confident. "So you're the fella who brought us here?"

"Oh, no, that's not my division. You'll meet them soon enough." David peered at Demurke, and she nodded hastily. He double-checked that nobody was around before continuing. "Those blueprints of Mathew's, however? That's the pride and joy of my team!" He pumped an arm with vigor.

"Our team! We worked on it together," Jermy specified.

"You worked on it?" Mathew sounded surprised. "Wow. What part of it?"

Jermy probably should have seen that question coming. His voice came out smaller than he meant it to. "Uh, a few firmware bits here and there, tightening up the design, and—"

"Jermy was the primary tester. He was literally the lab rat."

Did ORB really have to roll up and say that?! Jermy grit his teeth. It didn't paint the most flattering picture, he knew that. A better engineer surely would've been more involved with designing the thing—

"Holy shit, you were the tester?!" Mathew, to Jermy's surprise, sounded floor. "That's amazing! For something insane like the portal devices, I can only imagine how dangerous that was!"

Well, now Jermy felt a little bashful. He expected a gifted engineer like Mathew to rip into him for that. Of course, ORB knew better. He always did. It was the whole reason Jermy created him in the first place.

"Yes, yes, he was pretty small as a pichu," David mumbled, more interested in the new faces. "Anyhow, how has Kalmwa'er Resort treated you? I've never spent a night myself, but word around the lab is that it's pretty cozy!"

Jermy and Demurke both tensed up. David had no idea about the housing arrangement, and it looked like this was how he was going to find out.

"We didn't?" Joey said. "Well, we were gonna sleep here, but we got an offer better than butter and batter."

His spirited demeanor faltered a bit. "...Huh?"

"One of the regular Pick-it Up Club members offered us his condo to stay at," Mathew explained. "Mr. Persian's kid, actually."

"Did he, now?" David's eyes flicked to the recruiters with a sharp glare. "How interesting." And just like that, he was back to chipper again. "I hope it's a nice place! Now, we should probably get you to your training. Demurke, can you show Mathew and Joey the way to the Waregle? Jermy, ORB, and I will catch up after a quick talk outside."

Demurke's eyes widened. "O-Okay, sure!" She quickly ushered Mathew and Joey along.

"What the hell is a Waregle? Sounds like a horn that comes out at a full moon." That was the last thing Jermy heard out of Mathew's mouth. The decidueye, meanwhile, walked towards the sliding doors, gesturing him to follow with a wing.

Yep. Pooch screwed.

The moment the doors shut, Jermy mouth took off at a mile a minute. "Look, I know this doesn't look good, but I swear I can explain why we — waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"

Lodged tightly in David's talons, the pikachu was abducted from the ground as the decidueye took flight. His heart thumped as they rose dozens of yards above Kalmwa'er, drifting farther from the resort as they got higher. The early morning bathed them in a darkness where they wouldn't be seen hanging from the sky.

"Jermy, I know that you're new at this, but come on!" David exclaimed, his voice just loud enough to carry past his own wingbeats. "Letting them house in one of the non-members' homes? And Mr. Persian's kin, no less!"

Jermy clutched David's talon tightly, hoping to irritate him. This wasn't an unusual method to isolate their conversation with, and it wasn't like he'd ever drop him, but the least his boss could do was ask first before he gave him a balloon's perspective of Kalmwa'er. "Hey, it's not as bad as it looks! It's a quick walk, it's comfortable and convenient, it gets them bonding with co-workers…"

"That's not what I'm bothered by, Jermy. Having an average Solcean in your living space risks them listening in on conversations about what we're doing. That's a huge risk!" David sounded exasperated, as if that should have been obvious. "Did they plan this behind your back? Surely you were there to step in."

"Well, uh—"

"Meowth introduced the idea right in front of him." ORB was clutched in David's other talon. " I could find no way to refuse his offer without raising suspicion."

Gah, why did he have to say that now?! "I will turn you into scrap metal!"

"You can settle your score with Jiminy Cricket later." David outstretched his leg, giving Jermy a better look at him. "Keep in mind that this is Mathew Walker we're talking about. This recruitment needs to go smoothly."

"I know that! I'm trying to make it smooth!" Jermy protested. "Demurke is on board with this, too! We can't put them in the resort because…you know…Mathew would…" If he was talking to some other person, Jermy would be able to repeat Demurke's point. But being in front of David — and suspended a few dozen yards in the air — really took the power out of his voice. How did he explain this to his boss in a convincing way?

David seemed curious. "Mathew would what?"

Jermy couldn't get another stumbled word in before ORB piped up. "We have company."

Oh, barnacles. Turned out David had drifted too close to the gondola wires as they argued. Five pokemon, illuminated in the dark by a lightbulb inside the gondola car, had front-row seats to their private conversations. Jermy had no idea if they had been able to hear them past that glass.

"Boys, circus maneuver," David muttered, rearing his head back.

Geez, it'd been a long time since they'd done that. Hurriedly, Jermy scuttled up David's body and precariously balanced atop his beak. He wobbled a bit, but found his balance in time. The two of them spun in opposite directions. The decidueye pointed ORB straight down at the ground, making them into a stack of three.

The performance left the audience in the gondola car bewildered but amused, prompting both wide-eyed stares and a mild applause from one or two of them. It was an embarrassing display, but the strangers were more likely to remember this than anything they overheard, so it would have to do.

As soon as the car had fully passed them, Jermy tilted over and collapsed into David's shoulder. His boss accepted his new position, tossing ORB up to cling to his other shoulder. He glided back towards the resort. "So, what was that you were saying?"

"I'll save him the effort," ORB cut in. "Demurke pointed out that housing Mathew under our typical property makes it exponentially more likely that they will meet. None of us are prepared for that to happen yet."

Jermy was close enough to see David's eyes widen. "Oh. That's…a good point. I hadn't considered that."

"Exactly." Jermy sighed. That was what he was planning to say in the first place, yet it felt like David would have been more upset if he had been the one to say it.

"So we're facing a risk either way, then? Demurke has more practice doing this than me, so I'll trust her judgment. Keep them where they are right now. Once we help them get fully initiated…" David's gaze sharpened as he looked dead ahead. "Then we'll deal with that."

Jermy had no objections to that plan, but it still made him nervous. Could they really bumble around all of these potential pitfalls? They had to try, at least. And that meant they had to prove their readiness as soon as possible. "We should probably go catch up with them. Can you please put me and ORB down now?"

"The correct ordering is 'ORB and me,'" ORB said. "I'm offended that you would put yourself first."

"Hey, you're the one that's fixable if you splatter all over the lower class! I have bones!"

"Don't get cocky now," David said as he glided down. "I'm pretty sure I could fix both of you."

David slowly landed at the side of the Resort, allowing Jermy to leap from David's talon with ORB in tow. They briskly walked through the quiet resort lobby and arrived at resort's fitness. Weights, barbells, exercise balls, and sweat towels were hung from displays, and treadmills for all shapes and sizes lined the wall. This wasn't their destination though — that would be the door in the corner with an "Authorized personnel only" sign plastered on it. Demurke had been kind enough to leave it cracked open for them.

Past the door was a long staircase winding around an open shaft for the resort's secret elevator. This shaft was the core of the entire building, and non-employees were none the wiser to its existence. Along the staircase, there were doors to service rooms on each of the floors, but the elevator only went to three places: here, the ground floor; up, to a room very close to Mr. Persian's office; and down. Far, far more down than any average pokemon would think to dig.

David pressed a button, and for the next minute, little creaks and whirs echoed through the shaft. When Jermy grabbed the railing, he could feel it vibrate. It sounded like it should be dangerous, but Jermy knew most of the people who designed and worked on the thing. It was safe, as long as it was well-maintenanced.

Still, the thought of it failing and crashing all the way down to the bottom made Jermy shudder. Yeesh.

The cab itself was tall enough to fit most anybody inside, but the wideness left much to be desired. Any more than four people in here at a time and it'd be awfully uncomfortable. It was a good thing he, David, and ORB had gone separately from the others.

Another minute silently passed. The cab's descent was long, but uneventful. It wasn't long until they arrived where Mr. Persian's work ended and theirs began.

After spending a day taking in the salty air of Kalmwa'er, it was hard for Jermy to go back to the striking scent of chlorine that filled the entire space. Ahead of them was the massive training area housed beneath the Resort. A sprawling maze of colorful platforms, wires, walls, and slides dangled from powerful cables attached to the ceilings, creating a floating obstacles course suspended over a deep pool. Bars for climbers, hoops for flyers, dummies for punchers, balls for kickers…the pool was even surrounded by patches of dirt for burrowers. It was one of the most popular places under their banner that wasn't a direct base of operations. The echoing roar of pokemon playing, sparring, and practicing drowned out the sound of David's voice.

It was designed like a jungle gym in a space as big as a warehouse — hence, the Waregle.

Demurke, Mathew, and Joey were waiting for them in the side room where the portals to the other facilities were housed. Mathew was standing amazed before an active portal to the ice palace. A frigid draft blew in from it, making Jermy shiver. The cubone took one step through, putting himself in two places at once. "Wow, this is like something straight out of Portal 3."

Joey, perplexed, looked down the row of portal frames. "There's a bunch more than three portals here though?"

"Isn't it neat?!" David raised his voice so all of them could here. "Portals between two places in the same world are more instant than cross-world trips! Less expensive to maintain, too."

"Easier than…flying here from home, th-that's for sure!" Demurke gestured to an older-looking portal labeled "Fascamile Town Hall — NO ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION. ENDPOINT GUARDED 24/7."

Mathew hopped out of the portal, looking eager. "God, I am going to enjoy working here…" Demurke closed the portal behind him, letting the room heat up again.

"Well, if you want to so badly, then we better get you trained up for it!" Jermy encouraged before urging David to lead them into the facility.

Before they could go in, they had to stop by a desk to sign in. They liked to keep track of who used the Waregle, so there was always somebody there to mark who comes in and when they come out. Today, it was their local little sea otter with twin tails and a flotation sac for a collar. "Wow, big-named crowd here," Zack remarked as he dipped a flipper in ink. "David, Jermy, Demurke…" the buizel frowned at ORB. "Do I count robots?"

"I wouldn't risk it."

He blinked. "ORB, and…" he peered at the two curiously. "New recruits, eh?"

"That's right!" David draped a wing over them, as if to give them a dramatic air. "Zackary, meet Mathew and Joey. Mathew and Joey, meet Zackary."

"Mathew, huh…" The longer Zack stared at the cubone, the more nervous Jermy got. Mathew seemed to think nothing of it. "Well, glad to welcome you both. Have fun!" He scribbled down both of their names and let them through.

They walked along the edge of the pool, leaving behind foot, talon, and wheel tracks in the dirt. The two recruits were looking this way and that, taking in the Waregle. Mathew seemed particularly mesmerized by the other workers. A spiny cacnea soared through a hoop high above them on a chair with a propeller that spun itself. When a scrawny tyrogue threw a punch at a nearby training dummy, their boxing gloves hardened into metal. A sprawny belsprout burst from the ground, propelled by a roaring drill. Jermy remembered when he was that amazed by what Solceus had to offer — good times.

Mathew came up to David as they walked. "Did the science division create all of the tools everyone's carrying around? These all seem stronger than anything you could make on Earth."

"Well, we can't take all of the credit," David said. "A lot of them are just a random objects imbued with type stones."

"Type stones?"

"Right, you don't know what those are." David raised a wing and redirected their walk towards one of the walls, where a bunch of their random junk had been stacked up for exactly this purpose. "Come here, I'll show you! Demurke, could you fetch one for me?"

"O-on it, sir!" Demurke flew off. When she returned a minute later, she was carrying a bright green stone and a piece of chalk. David had settled on an aged bugle horn that was sitting atop the pile. The two dropped the stone and the horn on the floor. The murkrow wasted no time sketching around David, forming a smooth circle surrounded by two arcs connected to it by an X shape.

Since the two of them were busy, that left it up to Jermy to explain all this to Mathew and Joey. "Alright, you two! What Demurke's chalking up over there is a—"

"This is a Gate!" Oh, okay, David didn't need Jermy's help after all. The pikachu tried not to roll his eyes. "It allows Solceans to tap into the energy of the world as provided by its creator." The decidueye held up the green stone. "And this is a type stone. It's a powerful mineral formed here on Solceus that holds the energy of one type, particularly grass. If I was a dartrix and I cracked this open, absorbing its energy would trigger my evolution into a decidueye! But using this Gate, we can do so much more…!"

He squatted down, put his wings on the chalk outline, and closed his eyes in focus. As the Gate emitted a white glow, green energy poured out of the graying stone and flowed into the horn. Slowly, leaves began to sprout from the brass, populating the inside. Without skipping a beat, David eagerly picked up the horn and blew into it. A torrent of sharp leaves shot into the air, then floated back down harmlessly.

"Woah!" There was a sparkle in Mathew's eye. Jermy could recognize it from a mile away — it was the look of a creator realizing the world of possibility that had just opened up to them. Not a big shocker. That's what Jermy knew him for.

"A powerful and useful weapon, and all it takes is a stone, chalk, and your imagination. It's a field of science straight out of fantasy!" He eagerly held the horn up, marveling in it. "Now you understand why I'm so enamored by what Solceus—"

"Why are y'all making weapons?"

Joey took the wind right out of his sails. "...Huh?" David dropped the horn.

"You called that thing a powerful weapon," the disquieted totodile said. "I reckon all those other doodads are supposed to be weapons, too. I thought we were getting hired into some world-saving engineering job…"

If looks could kill, Jermy would have been cut into a dozen pieces by the glare in David's eye. Sparks danced along the arm out of the recruits' view. "You didn't tell them?" The anger in his voice was mostly concealed.

Demurke burst into panic. "O-Oh gosh, they didn't know?! I-I'm sorry, I thought because M-Mathew had his memories he would've known, a-and Joey would've h-heard from—"

A pat on the hat from David quieted her down. She shrunk down in shame, but he paid her no mind. The only one he was expressing his irritation towards was Jermy.

Well, isn't this just groovy.

"Sorry. It slipped my mind." He shot a glance at ORB, begging for a better way out of this conversation.

"We were operating on a tight time schedule," ORB explained. "Between the wingull attack, returning to the Club, and resting with Meowth, there was no good time to establish everything in detail."

David squinted his eyes and shook his head, but he seemed more concerned with addressing the recruits. "Yes, Mathew was brought here for an engineering job, and you, Joey, were brought here to support us in whatever way you can. But the actual purpose of your engineering and your support…is warfare."

Joey's maw slipped open so quickly, Jermy was surprised it didn't snap off. "What?!"

Mathew just gave another sweeping look at the weapon-wielding members in intrigue. "What kind of warfare?"

"That, I can't tell you until you become official members. If regular Solceans found out what our ambitions were, it would create a pandemonium. We need to know we can trust you first." David clenched a wing-hand. "But I promise you, we really are trying to save the world here… Both worlds. That's why we're recruiting from Earth at such an urgent pace, even at the cost of memories — we're going to need all the help we can get, wherever we can get it."

Joey fingered the brim of his cowboy hat. "Did y'all tell me all this before I showed up here?"

Demurke nodded. "Technically, you already…a-agreed to it all. It's okay to n-not believe that at first, though."

"If you're in such a rush, why put us through a recruitment process?" Mathew asked. "I could just get to work now."

David clammed up a bit. "About that…"

"Let me be the bearer of bad news." ORB put himself in front of David. Of course, for the robot, David let him talk all he wanted. "No position in SEAS is guaranteed. In order to become a part of the science division, you need to prove yourself as viable members. If you don't…well, the army division is always hiring."

The weight of that statement landed upon Mathew and Joey's shoulders immediately. Joey in particular seemed rightfully nervous at the prospect. "Y'all wouldn't just send us home at that point…?"

David shook his head. "The way you were sent here is mostly one-way."

Surprisingly, that was the moment Mathew reached Joey's level of panic. "We can't go back?!"

"Not that kind of one-way!" He raised his wings defensively. "Without a frame on Solceus, Mathew, your Earth portal can't be reached. And the person who brought Joey here is busy, to say the least. We'd have to set up a portal to and from my lab in New Hampshire, and then ship you aaaaaall the way back to your house."

"Oh, good." Mathew's relief stuck out as odd to Jermy. Just last evening, he was telling him about how glad he was to be here and not on Earth. "Well, don't worry about me. I'll kick the ass of whatever challenge it takes to get this job!"

A reluctant Joey followed suit. "Well, even if Demurke doesn't know, I still reckon my mom and dad are more likely to be here than at home. If this job gets me closer to finding out…" his affirmation seemed to lift Mathew's spirits further.

"Good!" David's stance loosened, looking satisfied now. Lucky for him, David probably wouldn't chew him out any further. "Now, let's get you two—"

"David!" That was Zack, calling from afar as he speedily swam through the pool towards them. When he leapt out of the water, he offered David a walkie-talkie-like device. "It's Selena. She says it's urgent."

"Her, using a Phony?" The decidueye paced away from the group and raised the dripping device to the side of his leafy hood. "Selena, it's me. I'm with the other recruits right now, so make this qui—" A muffled but panicked voice came through the receiver. "Huh? What on Earth did you do?" A look of concern came over him. "Selena… Whyyyyy would you say that?" He wingpalmed, then tightened his tone. "Okay. Do you think I can still get over there and calm things down? …Alright. Tell me where." David nodded to himself. "I'll be there. Hold down the fort until then, got it?"

"What's all that about?" Joey asked.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this short. Something's come up." He glared at Jermy. "Can I trust you to take care of them?"

Jermy had no other option. "I'm on it."

"Good. Zack, come with me." David spread his wings and leapt into the air, gliding beak-first.

"Way ahead of you!" Zack leapt back into the water, trailing him.

The moment they were both gone, Jermy sighed in relief. Maybe he could finally do his job now. "Alright! Now, let's get you on your first task!" He marched ahead, letting everybody tail his…well, tail. "You two are still new to your pokemon bodies, so we need to get you some practice. Luckily, the Waregle has official routings for obstacle courses, marked by those colored flags you see." Jermy pointed ahead at a low-hanging platform ripe for leaping on. A red flag was attached to its edge. "To start you off, we're gonna have ORB time you two running this route! It's no snoozer, and if you fall, you have to start over. But that's the idea! After we train you up, we can compare your time to when you started!"

"Seems easy enough." Mathew nodded along as he walked up to the platform.

"But there's a-a catch!" Demurke exclaimed. "It m-might not look like it, but the Waregle is actually…booby-trapped! Jermy and I a-are gonna control those, and…we w-won't hold back!"

"Traps?" Joey pulled the brim of his hat back to study the route. "What kind of traps?"

"Hah! Those kinds of traps!" Joey narrowly sprung away from a torrent of flames blasting up from the floor of the platform. He slowly clawed his way up to the platform above, nearly falling through the gap between them.

Mathew was a fair fit behind Joey. After a few platforms, he had taken to crawling his way through the obstacle course. After almost slipping onto his rear due to the water-coated surfaces of the course, he wasn't taking any risks. "Joey, wait up!"

"Maybe I'd slow down if you didn't stick to the floor like a magnet on a fridge!" he called back.

"It's not fair…you're a water type! You probably have some no-slipping properties or some shit!"

Jermy pulled his mic inward. "What are you complaining for, bucko? You got the thunder thighs. It'd take some power make you keel over!"

Mathew groaned as he started climbing up a plastic rock wall. "Talk about my legs like that again and I'll…ngh…bring you some fucking thunder—!"

The cubone's scream filled the air as a comically large red glove sprung from the wall. He was launched away from the platform, falling down, down, down—splash.

Demurke giggled as she pulled her wing away from the button. "Y-You warned him!"

The two of them were watching all of this unfold from the comfort of the control room. Tiny cameras all over the course let them see everything through an array of monitors, and a whole console of buttons and switches allowed them to torment the recruits however they saw fit. Neither of them would finish in less than ten minutes.

Jermy had nothing to worry about now. He could just sit back and watch as Joey tried to run across those three big red balls, only to fall to his doom on the first one. As David's remarks could be put further and further into the past.

His eyes slid away from the monitors and onto the console as he hunted for trap buttons to peck. He and David had been at odds with each other for a long, long time. It was hard to believe that it hadn't always been this way, sometimes. Every once in a while, he remembered what life was like before Emmons Labs crossed from one world into another. Back when his apprenticeship was just about researching ways to change Earth for the better.

Back when he still had her to lean on.

Jermy misclicked, changing view to a camera pointed at ORB. It'd been a long five years since he first started working on that robot. Looking back, it felt even longer. He had desperately needed something to make him smile and laugh again. To be that voice of confidence. Nothing else in his life really played that role anymore.

Not since that night.

"Jermy. Dude."

He had groaned as he was shaken awake. His eyes had been harder to lift than weights, but when they came open, he could see the worried look on his sister's face. "Jane?" he had said groggily. "What time is it…?"


"About midnight, I think?" Her ears had drooped. At the time, she had been a pikachu just like him. It was still hard to confuse him for her, what with the aviator goggles and large white scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, not to mention the heart-shape at the end of her tail. "Sorry, I know you've always gotta get up early, but I'm on a bit of a time crunch."

"Time crunch…?" Jermy had been confused. He remembered not being able to discern if this was a dream. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm sneaking out of here and running as far as I can," Jane had said. "I…found something out. Something I bet ya knew? But now that I know, I can't stay. They'll come after me if they find out I snooped. I don't really wanna stay, either."

What she said then caused the intensity of the situation to finally hit him. "But—"


"It'll be dangerous, uh huh. I wanted to say bye, in case I don't make it out. So…" She reached for him and pulled him just out of bed enough to give him a warm embrace. "See ya, dude. Stay safe. And, even if they beg on their knees, don't let them sucker you into those recruitment jobs, okay?"

Jermy knew what she meant now, but at the time, he had been entirely lost. All he had understood was that this might be the last time he'd see his sister. Her hug had felt so nice then. He didn't even recall feeling himself falling back into his bed. He had just…




"Jermy! J-Jermy! Wake up!"

"Ah!" Jermy flung his body off of the control panel and back into his seat. A quick glance at the monitors showed a spooked Munchlax stumbling away from a geyser of water cascading down from the ceiling. Evidently, Jermy's sleeping body had activated a whole bunch of traps around the top of the Waregle! "Sorry! Sorry! That's my bad!" he called into the mic as he hastily turned them all off and refocused the camera to Mathew and Joey.

Demurke slumped back into her own chair, seeming relieved. "What was…that a-all about?"

"I dunno." Jermy's head sunk as he slouched over, getting back to work like nothing happened. "Guess I was more tired than I thought."
 
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Chapter 4

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 4: Bug-Ridden Bonds
“Boy, am I glad to see one of these.” After their training in the Waregle, Mathew wasn’t sure if he had the energy to go out into a ‘mystery dungeon’ with the Pick-it Up Club. This, however, alleviated his concerns.

Before them was a large yellow buggy, familiar but different from an Earth vehicle — it was more car-shaped than anything. There was a driver’s seat and a shotgun seat, but the second and third rows were wide cushions that could comfortably fit three pokémon their sizes. It’d comfortably fit about eight of them, which was nearly perfect.

“This is the Pick-it Up Buggy!” Mr. Persian exclaimed, tailing the Club as they filtered into the small garage. “Our wonderful benefactor offered us this for use by resort staff, but we don’t use it much here, so I set it aside for you all! It’s a convenient way to get from here to Asulaguah Beach.”

Jermy waved. “Hello, I’m wonderful benefactor.”

“We should say ‘benefactors,’ plural,” ORB clarified. “Jermy is unfortunately not an auto mechanic.”

“A pretty interesting contraption you made here!” Politoed commented. “Like a machine version of a revavroom.”

Meowth hugged the wall. “I still don’t see the point of this. Twenty minutes isn’t that long of a walk. It’s good exercise.”

“Since when do you care about exercise?” Minichino asked. “If you wanted to work some pounds off, you could do it on the job!”

“Your legs are doing more bending than they are walking.”

Mathew mused on Meowth’s remark. He supposed that it would be good for him to get those steps in…but after running and crawling and swimming and begging for mercy in that Waregle? “I dunno. Minichino’s got a point.”

Upon them entering the conversation, Meowth withdrew, giving both of them a nod. “Whatever you say. I don’t really care.”

“In Meowth’s d-defense, the buggy isn’t a-always fun,” Demurke said. “When Breloom r-really goes flying, it’s hard to h-hold my hat down…”

“You mean it’s hard to hold your head down,” ORB corrected.

Demurke looked down at him, letting the brim of her headwear half-cover her eyes. “It’s… It’s a hat.”

“Sure. I’ll believe that when I see you take it off.”

“Just ignore him,” Jermy said, intervening. “I, for one, respect the ‘stay on your head’ attitude of your hat!”

“Th-thanks,” was all she said. Now that Mathew had a closer look, the transition from head to ‘hat’ was seamless. Could she really not—? Actually, he probably didn’t want to know.

“If you guys are done debating,” Breloom said as she pulled the key to it off of a wall hook, “do you want me to drive again, or should we let one of the new guys have a shot?”

“Actually, let me,” Mathew offered. “It sounds fun!” Not really, but he had more experience driving a vehicle than anybody else.

Breloom took him by surprise with a sudden toss of the key. Mathew looked up, and the large ring of the keychain fell around his snout, as if he were a pin in a carnival game. “It’s all yours.”

Jermy leapt for the second front seat. “I call shotgun!”

The rest of the Club filtered in to the other seats, with Meowth, Demurke, and Politoed taking the second row and Joey, Minichino, and Breloom taking the third. Breloom leaned back, planted her tail on the buggy’s floor, and put her legs atop Politoed’s seat. He grinned and playfully tapped a dangling claw.

Mathew panicked for a second when he sat down and realized he couldn’t reach the pedals, but Jermy was on it in no time, pulling a slider that raised the pedals to his level. There were only a few things that he missed from his old life on Earth, but listening to the roar of the engine as he turned the key was not one he expected. It was unlikely he was going to be driving many things after this buggy. He was going to make the most of it.

The moment Mr. Persian punched a code to open the garage Mathew backed the thing out and drove it around the resort perimeter, testing what it could do. After spotting Mr. Persian waving them off in the mirrors, Mathew picked up the pace. “Out of the waaaaaay! Coooming through!” he shouted at passerby, punctuated with a horn. The dirt roads were perfectly sized for the buggy to roll straight through, but only if cleared of pedestrians. Kalmwa’er citizens ran, jumped, flew, and floated out of the way, many of them shooting Mathew looks. Some annoyed, some shocked, some curious, some enthralled…

Mathew couldn’t hide a chuckle. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt like a stupid teenager, and he was living for it.

They arrived at the edge of Kalmwa’er, where the street ended with a wide bridge surrounded by beachgrass. Now instead of bounding over dirt, the buggy was kicking up sand. Mathew slowed to a stop, making the buggy rumble in place, and peered back at the rest of the Club. “How far to Asulaguah?”

“Usually we get there in ten minutes with the buggy,” Minichino said. “You’ve got another eight minutes to go.”

Mathew clutched the wheel tight. “I’ll make it four!”

“Uh, Mathew, I reckon it’d be nice if you’d—!”

The cubone floored it, silencing Joey’s protest. If he reached a hand past the side of the buggy, it’d get bombarded by all the sand hurtling through the air. Mathew’s skull mask rattled in the wind, and his burgundy tie threatened to fly behind him and strangle his neck if he didn’t keep it straight on his chest.

The speed was fun, at least for a couple minutes. It was entertaining to watch Joey, Minichino, Demurke, and Politoed desperately hold down their headwear — ‘headwear’, in Demurke’s case — in the rearview mirror. Unfortunately, as the buggy erupted with uninteresting small-talk, the novelty didn’t last long. Soon enough, Mathew was left staring at an empty beach with nothing to entertain him but his own mind.

…That, and the way Joey was looking at him. Why did he seem so bothered? Nobody had been hurt, right?

“Something on your mind, Mathew?”

“Uh, no!” Mathew flinched in his seat in surprise. He had forgotten Jermy was right next to him. “Nothing important.”

Jermy’s ears flapped in the wind. “Are you sure?” He lowered his voice, quiet enough to be muffled by the roar of the engine.

Mathew sank into his seat, loosely holding the wheel steady. Besides Joey, he did have a lot to think about. “I’m just worried about doing a good job, I guess. I didn’t expect the new start I wanted to involve so much work.” He grimaced. “If I spent eight months getting here just to screw it all up at the finish line—”

“Hey, don’t talk like that!” Jermy said. “It’s only your first real day. We’re not expecting you to do anything magical right now.”

“He is correct. That will come later,” ORB added, resting in Jermy’s lap.

“Besides, you’re Mathew Walker. I know you can do this! And once you do, it’ll be...better. A lot better. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Right.” He shifted his foot around on the pedal, but couldn’t find a new comfortable spot. “What got SEAS interested in me, anyway? I haven’t done much resume-building since the world went to shit.”

“Well, I can’t speak for SEAS, but I know I was excited when I heard we were thinking of bringing you on board!” Jermy said. “You know ORB’s programming uses your Cat-Tongue code as a base?”

Cat-Tongue? That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. “Why the hell would you use CT? I threw that together during a college internship like fifteen years ago.” Certainly his more recent AI projects were out there for him to copy, right?

“Yeah, and just about everyone trying to make AI that works with robotics uses it as a base! You could make a forest out of all the branches I’ve found out there.” He gestured to Pawalmtry Forest, the place he and Joey awoke, as it ran in parallel with the beach.

“That makes more sense.” Cat-Tongue’s base had indeed caught on as he polished it over the years, but he’d left the project behind a long time ago. “Still, why credit CT to me? All I did was mix an open-source AI with a robotic operation program. It looked pretty janky at the time.”

“It’s not all about the code. It’s the fact that you finalized both the code and the robot! As an intern!”

Mathew shrugged. “That was the project, yeah.”

“Not everyone has the skill to juggle both, Mathew,” Jermy asserted. “And to get the word out there about your stuff in that really charming way… You’ve seriously got a gift.”

“Let’s not talk about my ad campaigns.” Mathew chuckled lightly. It was hard to think back on his TV spots and YouTube videos.

“Why not? You got so many people into tech with that ‘magic show’ shtick of yours.” Jermy looked away from him. “You got me into tech.”

Mathew had to do a double-take. “What?” He glanced at Jermy with wide eyes.

Jermy was caught off-guard. “Uh, yeah! When I was a teen, I really got into your stuff, and I learned a lot. That’s why I started building and programming in the first place. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d never have met David.” He looked down at his hands. “Maybe we’d never have ended up here.”

So that’s what Jermy was.

A fan. Of his achievements on Earth.

Mathew’s heart began pumping. The fact fell on him like a fist. “Then you know…”

The concerned Jermy clutched his creation. “Know what?” His voice seemed so far away.

“About what happened.” Mathew looked down at the floor of the buggy. The club on the floor. The club. “After… after…”

It was happening again.

Mathew held him tightly in his arms. A siren blared outside as they rushed in. He could feel his whole world falling out from under him.

“I’m so sorry,” he frailly told him. He wished he could say more, do more, but there was nothing. Nothing.

Everything was blurry. All he could see was what had been burned into his mind.

All he could see was L—


“Mathew! What the heck are you doing?!”

“Everyone, jump! Now!”

Mathew was barely able to snap out of it at the sound of Minichino and Breloom’s yells. “Shit!” He pumped the brakes, turned the wheel, and braced for impact.

Crack!

The cubone slammed his chest into the wheel from the force of the impact. The bone club launched out from under him, landing in the sand. Even as the tension subsided, he struggled to breathe.

He slowly climbed to his feet in the driver’s seat. Over the front of the buggy, he could see the damage: a large, textured rock he had slammed the buggy into had split in half, right down the middle. Behind him, the Club members were pulling themselves out of the sand. None of them seemed particularly happy at the moment.

What had he done? A crash like this had probably damaged the buggy. Worse yet, he could’ve gotten everyone in the Club injured. Or worse—

“Our rock.”

Oh God.

Mathew whipped around to see a towering creature climb atop the split rock. Held together by stone making up its shoulders and waist, the orange and brown colored pokémon had four arms and two legs, each with sets of long claws. Even the head seemed to resemble a potential fist.

No, no, no. He did not have the energy to deal with one of those ‘dungeon pokémon’ right now. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, failing to find anything better to say.

“You jerk! You broke our rock!” That voice didn’t come from the head.

“I know that!” Mathew snapped. Where…wait, was that thing on one of their right palms an eye? In fact, there were eyes on all four of the palms.

Dear God. This wasn’t one wild pokémon he had enraged. It was seven.

The lower left palm chuckled. “Look at him, shaking like a krabby! How cute.”

“Sure wish I could see it…” A muffled voice cried from the left sole.

“Quit complainin’. Heady will give us a looksee when he feels like it,” the right sole said.

“Quiet!” Heady exclaimed, and the limbs went silent. “This is our only rock. And you broke it.”

“As I said, I know that.” Mathew could feel the tension radiating off of the pokémon. As if he needed another reason to be distressed. “At least you have two rocks to share among yourselves, or something.”

He regretted that line the moment it came out his mouth.

“Two rocks,” Heady repeated. “Would you like two heads?” He glanced at one of the left arms. “Left hook.”

The unit moved faster than Mathew could react. The next thing he knew, his mask rattled, his body was buried in the sand, and a splitting headache had come over him.

A chorus of shouts came from his coworkers as they charged in. Mathew looked up just in time to see Jermy leap onto the hood and shove the pokémon off with a blisteringly quick attack.

Two pairs of paws came over him. The first were Meowth’s, pulling him into a standing position, then checking for significant injuries. The second were Minichino’s, clearing him of sand.

“Sorry, Mathew, but I can’t live with a coworker covered in sand,” she told him.

Jermy was still busy holding off the pokémon. “Alright, Mr. Four Arms,” Mathew heard him call out. “Feel the shocking power of Jermy Shock!” Jermy lobbed a mighty bolt...which promptly turned away from the target and took off towards land, slamming into a line of trash along the shore. “Oh, come on!” he wailed. “Who throws away a— Two! Two lightning rods! Are you joking?!”

As the unit slashed at Jermy, the rest of the Club congregated around Mathew. “Well, this is kind of a mess,” Breloom proclaimed. “That barbaracle’s about to make a pancake out of Jermy.”

Breloom was right. Mathew surveyed the pokémon around him. Already, he could feel his mind kicking up the pace. They outnumbered this barbaracle thing nine-ish to seven, right? He just needed to plot everyone out like this was a project. He’d done that plenty of times.

He brought them into this situation, and he’d pull them out of it.

“Okay. This guy hits like a truck, so Meowth should stay far out of the way of this.” He and Joey weren’t exactly equipped to fight, either. “Joey, you stay with him and pretend you could kick this guy’s ass.”

Joey bore his sharp teeth at Mathew. “Rawr.”

Mathew shot him a look of disappointment.

“Is that planning I hear?” Politoed crouched down to come to his level, intrigued. “Usually that’s my job.”

Perfect. “I only know half of the people here. Can you help with the other half?”

He immediately turned to the Club veterans. “Breloom, focus on sapping those limbs of energy. Minichino, use your size to catch him by surprise.”

“Demurke could do that, too,” Mathew suggested, gesturing to her. “Have her fly in from above.”

That idea made Politoed grin. “Not a bad idea.”

“I-I like this plan!” Demurke exclaimed, seeming eager.

Mathew breathed a sigh of relief as he picked up his club and dusted it off. It seemed like the panic of his prior mistake was already fading away.

“Yeah!” Minichino tensed up, ready to fight. “All that’s left is what Politoed’s gonna do!”

Politoed shut his eyes, contemplating. “I’ll—”

“Aw, fish sticks…!” A distant cry got everyone’s attention. In the time it had taken for them to plan, the barbaracle had gotten the upper hand over Jermy, grabbing him in his fist. Mathew’s eyes widened as he watched the dungeon pokémon rear back like a football player.

“Bye bye~” the fist said.

With a throw, Jermy was launched through the sky over the ocean. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…” In the distance, Mathew watched him skip and skid along the waves until he finally went under.

“…go deal with that.” Politoed shuffled away slowly, as if the barbaracle could only see movement. Once at the edge of the water, he dove in after Jermy.

Heady’s eyes landed on Mathew once again as the hulking body stomped around to face him. “We will drown you next. Unless the others still want to go first?”

“Try me, ‘Ed!” Breloom burst into a sprint, aiming a punch at the right leg. The unit stepped out of the way, then hammered down on her with a lower arm. With a practiced efficiency, Breloom answered with a kick to the barbaracle’s slammed fist, only for another hand to connect. She was pushed back, but kept her feet firmly in the sand.

“Try again!” Heady commanded, and the limbs obeyed. Both lower arms went for Breloom at the same time. Effortlessly, she dove under them, and they smacked into each other. Breloom promptly jumped for the upper left hand, digging her fists into it.

“You must be full of energy to throw that far. Mind if I take some of that?”

Breloom’s red claws began to glow. The arm flailed around, trying and failing to shake her off. The claws on her hands sunk deep, and, when airborne, the ones on her feet did just as well. The tighter Breloom held on, the weaker the limb’s resistance became.

Mathew remembered a move that sounded like this: Drain Punch.

“High-lefty!” The lower left palm cried as the limb withered and slumped over. In retaliation, they reached for the Breloom and pulled her off. “You’re gonna pay for that. He wasn’t the only good throwing arm here!” Breloom struggled in their grip, but the newfound energy wasn’t enough.

Mathew almost couldn’t believe that she was caught. Breloom had fought so impressively, it was like she’d never get beat. With nobody else geared to help, Mathew charged in. “Get the hell away from—!”

He realized too late that shouting a battle cry had given himself away. A leg came flying at his face, knocking him to his back. The unit went in to stomp on him, only to lean back. A laser from ORB soared through the air and cut them off.

That was all Breloom needed. She burst out of the lower left’s grip and made for a kick at the torso. Heady yelped, unprepared for a blow, and the unit fell into a sitting position. When they rose, the arms were playing a game of Whack-A-Mole with their torso. Minichino had gotten onto their back.

“Who…is that?!” Heady exclaimed, sounding winded by the kick.

“I’m Minichino, here to kick your butt! Nice to meet you!” She nimbly hopped all around the torso, letting the desperate limbs smack Heady’s body. Evidently, there was no rule against friendly fire as long as it protected the unit.

“You three…!” Heady tried to command. “Stop missing...or I’ll—”

A dark blue blur dropped onto the unit’s shoulder, launching a wing-smack faster than they could think. Hardly a second later, Heady slumped over.

Mathew leapt into the air with glee. “Yes!” They’d taken out the one in command! Now the barbaracle would surely—

“Arms! Position shift! Now!”

…What?

Minichino and Demurke scurried around the rock body as the unit shifted the body sideways. The two unconscious limbs were made into right arms, The lower left arm was made the new head, the right palms became feet, and the former feet had already taken hold of both of the Club members.

“You’ve taken out Heady,” one of them said.

“Now it’s time...for the Feeties!” the other shouted.

“Dunk them!” the new head barked, and so they did, slamming them both down. Breloom tried to retaliate, but a sweep knocked all three of them away. The unit hobbled away in an awkward walk, heading for a pile of trash.

This wasn’t good. With this adaptation, Mathew’s plan was starting to come undone. Those ex-feet seemed to hit way harder, based on that sweep. How could he contend with… Uh, what were they doing?

The unit was hunched over, letting the two reach down into the trash pile. They were trying to pry a pair of lightning rods — the ones Jermy had been stopped by earlier — out of the sand.

Meowth moved into the crowd, offering Minichino, Demurke, and Breloom oran berries. “That thing’s going to beat us with lightning rods?” he remarked. “That doesn’t seem very effective.”

Mathew was about to coordinate a new plan when he paused.

Where. Where had he heard what Meowth said before? It was familiar…

Oh… It was there.

“What kind of weapon is that?” she whispered to him. “He has a death wish if he’s gonna use that against a firearm. How much are you willing to bet those nails are just for looks?”

Mathew stared and stared and stared at that barbaracle as it clutched them firmly. The new head looked towards the group with fierce eyes.

Towards him.

The cubone’s club shook in his trembling hand. “No… Don’t you come closer…” He took a step back. Breloom said something to him, but it didn’t register. His heart was beating so loudly that it flooded his ears.

The barbaracle charged Mathew down. He wanted to leap out of the way, but he didn’t. It was as if his mind was detached from his limbs. Why was he like this? He clenched his eyes shut as the rod came down. He didn’t want to see the outcome.

It never came. When he opened them again, he was sat down facing the shore, away from the action. Sand spread across his arms and water lapped at his legs. He couldn’t feel any of it.

His savior, the one who dragged him out of the way, got down on his knees, looking him directly in the eye. A paw came to rest on his shoulder.

“Can you close your eyes for me?” Meowth’s voice was firm, but not harsh. Mathew was compelled to do as he said. “Breathe in through your snout carefully. Count to five, then breathe out.”

His erratic breathing changed pace as he heeded his advice. In. One, two, three, four, five. Out. He repeated it again, then again.

The world began coming back to him. First the lapping water, then the ground below him, then the warmth of the sun. The distress of the moment was easing.

“Thank you,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. He felt Meowth’s grasp on his shoulder soften.

The fight was coming back again. He could hear Politoed barking commands and Jermy charging into battle. The pikachu’s voice was distant, but legible. “Bad weapon choice, bucko! You’re about to get a taste of my sweet revenge.”

There was a surge, then a slam. Mathew finally opened his eyes and turned around. Past the sharp glare of the sun, he was just in time to watch Jermy cleanly tackle the center of the barbaracle. The limbs cried out as they were launched back, the shape of the unit breaking away. When they landed, the stones making up their body cracked and broke, letting loose the creatures that made it up.

“Noooooo! Not our other rocks!” one of the three remaining creatures cried as they took their four unconscious buddies and slithered away. Without a body, they stood no chance.

Mathew slowly climbed to his feet as the Club members regrouped. Everyone seemed mostly fine…except for Minichino. She was splayed in the sand, unmoving. He approached her in concern. Something must have happened while he was lost in his own mind. “Is she—?”

“No, just unconscious.” Casually, Meowth rummaged around in his emergency kit until he revealed a small seed with a tiny little leaf sprouting from it. He carefully fed the seed into her mouth, and as if she’d been jumpstarted like a vehicle, she sprung to life.

“Alright, which one of you wants some—?” Minichino scrambled to her feet, only to realize there was no action around her. “Aw, is the fight already over?”

“Do you think I would have given you that if it wasn’t safe?” Meowth asked.

Minichino crossed her arms. “I would’ve wanted you to!”

“Well, I’ll be…” Joey approached them in awe. “Did that seed do that?”

“It woke her up, yes,” Meowth replied. “Have you never seen a reviver seed before?”

“Uh, no, I have.” He didn’t sound confident, but nobody pressed him further. Mathew noticed Jermy nod ever so slightly.

Demurke flapped her wings in satisfaction. “Well, th-that’s taken care of!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Mathew sighed, letting the last of his worries go. He felt like that could’ve gone much, much worse.

“Well, not everything.” Breloom gave a reminding gesture to the massive cracked rock. “The good news is that I’m pretty sure you didn’t bust it up too much. I’m gonna kindly ask that you leave the driving to me from here on, though.” She chuckled, hardly seeming angry.

“Yeah, that’s fair…” If that was all the ribbing he was going to get for this fiasco, Mathew was incredibly thankful. The mercy and support of his co-workers was the whole reason why that barbaracle didn’t end up killing him or something. “Anyway, I’m gonna go check the damages on the buggy.”

“I elect Jermy to help him, since he took shotgun,” ORB chimed in.

“Hey, I was gonna do that anyway! It’s my responsibility as a ‘wonderful benefactor’, after all.” Jermy made a shooing motion to the rest of the Club. “You guys go on ahead and start cleaning up around here.”

“I’ll stay in case you need an extra pair of paws,” Meowth declared. Minichino shot him a side-eye, which he quickly reciprocated.

“Okay! Don’t t-take too long, you guys. See you soon…!” Demurke ushered the Club away from Mathew, Jermy, Meowth, and ORB. Joey gave Mathew a thoughtful look before he joined them.

Jermy led Mathew towards the impact site, letting Meowth stay behind them and watch. After taking a moment to ensure the wheels weren’t locked, the two carefully pushed the buggy away from the rock. The damage was clear: the left side of the hood was deeply dented.

“Well, it could be worse?” Mathew supposed.

“Definitely!” Jermy lifted the hood, revealing a large, complex engine. There didn’t seem anything immediately broken or out-of-place. “We designed this thing to be sturdy. Everything has to be sturdy on Solceus, after all.”

“Huh.” Now that Mathew’s mind was a little clearer, he could admire Jermy’s prowess. “You aren’t an auto engineer, right?” Neither was he, but he couldn’t help but take a moment to study it. It wasn’t easy to contribute to a field of engineering you have less practice in, Mathew knew that much. So for Jermy to have done this… “You talked like you were just a fan, but you aren’t half-bad yourself, either.”

“Thanks! Y’know, we’ve kinda had similar careers when you think about it,” Jermy posited. “We’re both engineers, we’ve helped make ground-breaking progress in our fields, we both have messed up name spellings…”

“Oh, I feel that last one.” He rolled his eyes as irritating memories flashed through his mind. “So many people write my name with two Ts, it drives me nuts.”

“Don’t forget you called me Jeremy when I introduced myself yesterday. Trust me, you’re not the first!” Jermy quietly remarked.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Mathew said. “How did that name happen, by the way? I get mine, but—”

“Miswrite on my birth certificate,” Jermy quickly answered.

“…Wow.” Mathew had no idea how to respond to that, so he decided to take a closer look at the dented hood. “Do you think I could push that back out with my club?” he asked.

“You’re free to try!” Jermy held up the hood, leaving it wide open.

Mathew came up and poked the interior. He aimed for the center, reared back, and gave it a smack. Then another, and another. This dent was resilient, but so was he.

“You can do it!” Jermy cheered. “Hammer that dent like it ruined your life!”

Mathew winced, and the next thing he knew, he’d swung with so much force that the club slipped from his hand and dropped into the sand. “Whoops…” He squatted and—

Don’t look down

—stumbled away from it. “Maybe you should’ve used another analogy,” he mumbled. He reached up to wipe sweat that wasn’t present from the side of his face he couldn’t feel through his mask.

Jermy seemed at a loss for how to react to him. “Uh… I… I could make another one if you—”

“I think Mathew needs fewer analogies and more time to think.”

Right, Mathew had almost forgot that Meowth was with them. He peered back at the cat, giving him an expression that he couldn’t read.

“Jermy, I’m going to talk with him for a few minutes,” Meowth continued. “There’s something important I feel I need to say.”

Jermy’s ears straightened as he heard Meowth’s assertion. “Well look at you, being a go-getter…” Meowth crossed his arms at that.

“According to my database, consequences of taking a break include short-term frustration, long-term depression, possible destruction of bones, and death.” ORB let that hang for a moment. “Just kidding. Go ahead.”

Mathew followed Meowth as he padded along, taking him to the other side of the rock. He sat down, then beckoned Mathew to do the same.

He collapsed against the stone. “That’s the second time you’ve come to my rescue today,” Mathew said. “Thanks for that.”

“It’s fine.” Meowth started half-mindedly raking one of his claws against the coin embedded into his forehead. “Have you noticed yourself ‘clamming up’, for lack of a better term, like how you did during the fight earlier?”

“Yeah…” Mathew still was unsure what to make of his landlord of sorts. Meowth’s tone was so matter-of-fact, but he seemed to be honestly engaging with him. He deserved at least a little explanation. “I get like that sometimes. Joey saw a bit of it yesterday, but I’m trying not to let it show too much.” The cubone looked down and gave a hard kick to the water, splashing it forwards. “It doesn’t help that I feel kind of tired in general already.”

“You did leave the condo pretty early this morning.” Meowth put his paw down, looking more focused now. “What are they having you do that warrants being up so early?”

Meowth really kept asking him the hard questions, huh? How could Mathew non-explicitly describe the experience… “Well, it involved a lot of running around.”

Meowth grunted. “Interesting. Weird that our employer has you here after the others are making you work your tail off.”

Mathew wasn’t really sure what Meowth meant by that, other than that he was against overworking. “You aren’t really the backbreaker type, huh?”

He grinned. “Why do you think I’m here instead of helping the others clean?” Meowth asked. Suddenly, his tone became a lot more serious. “I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but I happen to be a licensed physical and mental therapist.”

Mathew’s eyes widened. “For real?”

“For real.”

Huh. A cat that happened to be a therapist. What were the odds?

“Anyway, I get the impression that you might be in need of somebody to talk to. So, why don’t we grab lunch together after our work today is done?”

An honest-to-god therapy session over some food? After everything, that sounded like exactly what Mathew was looking for. Maybe he could finally develop some more resilience and make his path to peacefulness that much easier. It was hard to believe this was the guy everyone was warning him about.

“You know what? I’d like that,” he said with a nod.

His bone club rolled up against his hand, but he ignored it. For now, there was no need.
 
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TheCouchEffect

Junior Trainer
Pronouns
He/His
Okay, I finally found the time to read this and I love the story so far! The writing of the story is really good and brings the characters and world they're in to life.

The characters are all really entertaining to read. Mathew and Joey are excellent for the fish-out-of-water element the story needs, but I like how they're more than just simple tools to explain the world. Instead they've each got their own unique prsonalities - I'm especially fond of Mathew's 'puncles' and Joey's strange analogies. The other characters are fun as well, especially the sass machine that is ORB. For a robot, it somehow has the most personality and life out of them all! Jermy is also fun to see bounce off of other people, and it looks like you're building up to something big between him, David, and Mathew. Meowth is also an intruiging character, but it's still a bit early to say anything. The plot between him and his father is making me very curious.

As for the world itself, it makes me want to know more about it. How this world developed its technologies for instance or why they need a large standing army in the first place. I'm especially curious about how they are able to connect to Earth and why they want Mathew in particular beyond his genius? If they knew enough about Earth to know it was facing calamity, then they must have been watching for some time. If so, why were the doing it in the first place? Was it purely to get new ideas for technology or something else? I'm looking forward to all these questions being answered.

My only real criticism is of the Prologue. Mathew is quick to jump on the invitation to a new world, but he didn't seem to hesitate. Did he not have any friends or family that he would miss or want to take with him? Given what we've seen so far, it's possible there is something deeper behind this with his connection to Joey, but until the big reveal I'm left wondering what happened.

Overall, fantastic story and I can't wait for more!
 

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Alright, in the next few minutes, we're going to drop the next Double-Edged chapter. But before that, I'd like to thank you for the review, Couch! We've had a lot of trouble getting this story off of the ground, but it's reviews like yours that really remind us what we've done all this for. Trust me, many of your questions will be answered sometime soon.
My only real criticism is of the Prologue. Mathew is quick to jump on the invitation to a new world, but he didn't seem to hesitate. Did he not have any friends or family that he would miss or want to take with him?
Short answer? Probably not, based on some of the last statements in the prologue. Long answer? That's a secret...

Once again, thank you so much. I hope you enjoy this coming chapter and beyond!
 
Chapter 5

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 5: An Ingrained Question
The longer Joey’s morning went on, the more bizarre it seemed to get. First, he learned he had signed himself off to fight in a secret war and didn’t even remember it. Second, he unwittingly participated in running over half of Kalmwa’er. Third, he watched as his friends fought a bunch of barnacles making up a humanoid form like they were Power Rangers, whatever those were. These few hours had been so overwhelming that it kind of surreal to be somewhere familiar.

The sea to his right, the sea of trees to his left, and the sea of trash in the sand before him made it obvious that this beach was the place he had awoken yesterday. He couldn’t see the exact spot — none of the litter seemed to be arranged in the order he remembered it — but this trash-ridden beach was unmistakable. At least, he hoped so.

Joey turned to his Solcean peers. “What the heck happened here?” he asked them. “It’s so nice and clean in Kalmwa’er. Why is it so bad so far away from town?”

What he said sparked a fire in Minichino’s eyes. “Alright, Joey, time for a history lesson!” She marched ahead of them, picking up an old ball and holding it up like a movie prop. “About a hundred years ago, the smartest minds of Solceus gathered together and invented the worst material known to pokémon-kind: plastic.”

Joey groaned. Of all things for both worlds to have, he reckoned there was no material more depressing than this.

“Unlike most materials, plastic degrades unusually slowly in nature, leading to it staying in the environment for decades on end. And thanks to the Legendary Court’s plan to put worldwide regulation on them going…badly, it’s everywhere. Most towns like Kalmwa’er can handle disposing of the waste, but the stuff that end up in mystery dungeons?” She widely gestured to the beach. “This is what happens to it.”

“Not to mention what it does to the dungeon pokémon,” Politoed remarked, looking off into the horizon.

“Exactly!” Minichino exclaimed. “They’re already aggressive enough, but when their homes are getting ruined? That brings out the worst in them. I hear that there’s these geodudes living in the cave at the end of this beach, Misery Cave, that fight anybody who tries to go in. Nobody can take the trash out of the cave, so now the place is totally dirtied up!”

“And s-since fighting dungeon pokémon is banned u-unless it’s in self-defense or a fair duel,” Demurke chimed in, “there’s n-no good way for us to help, besides w-waiting for the Kalmwa’er S-Service Guild to…go deal with them.”

“Which they haven’t.” Breloom shook her head, seeming disappointed at that fact.

Joey listened to this story, surprised. “Sounds like this club ain’t around for no reason.”

“Exactly! If the town isn’t gonna help these dungeons, then that means it’s all up to us!” Minichino perked up, getting into a battle stance as she looked ahead. “As long as I’m here, there isn’t a piece of trash on this beach that can hide!”

Swish! With a whirl, Minichino swung her tail and sent a burst of wind forward. A torrent of sand and a number of plastics were flung high into the air. The sand coasted on the wind while the trash tumbled back to the ground, ripe for picking. Joey noticed that there had been even more waste, concealed beneath the surface, that her attack had unearthed.

Wordlessly, they all got to work. Cup after cup, shard after shard, bag after bag, every sand-coated piece was stuffed into Joey’s satchel with little effort. Tiredness and boredness began to sink in fast. His absent mind began to daydream about a world where these dungeon pokémon didn’t stand in their way. Minichino and the others could clean up these places without issue, and there’d hardly be a job to do. That’d be real nice. Maybe Joey should go teach those geodudes a lesson about accepting help?

No, he had to quash that pipe dream while it was still small. If his poor performance in the obstacle course and his sidelining in the fight were in any indication, he’d never stand a chance. When SEAS had mentioned that army division, it hadn’t hit him until now what that’d really entail. Fighting as a pokémon seemed so difficult and intimidating. What had gotten him on board with such a hard job in the first place?

Argh, maybe he would know if his past wasn’t blank! Why was it that everything that mattered to him was completely out of his own reach, and everything that didn’t was right at his fingertips? Without his past, how could he hope to grasp this future they were setting out for him?

“We’re baaaaack!” Jermy’s exclamation was a pleasant distraction from all that, so Joey perked up in greeting. He, Mathew, ORB, and Meowth had caught back up with them. “Turns out the rock took more damage than the buggy did, so we’ll be able to drive it back.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Breloom said. “Although I’m still going to drive it myself.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna stop you,” Mathew answered briefly. He seemed much more interested in Minichino, approaching her eagerly. “Hey, what was that trash-launching thing you did back there? I saw it while we were walking up.”

“Oh, you mean this?” With hardly any hesitation, Minichino repeated the motion.

Swish! The moment the move came out, Mathew leapt into action. He jumped straight in the way of the falling trash, letting sand douse him as he caught a plate, then a bowl. With his masked snout raised high, a six-pack ring landed over his snout. Then, with his free hand, he threw his bone club towards a plastic bag flowing in the wind. The twirling club smacked the bag, but it didn’t come back on the club’s return trip, leaving the piece of ivory to flip into the sand on it own. “Ah, so close to four…” he muttered, dropping his spoils into his satchel.

Demurke clapped her wings in applause. “That w-was really good!”

The reptile gave a dramatic bow, as if he were on a stage show. “Thank you, thank you. When I signed up for the Club, I decided I wanted to do everything in my power to make this job not boring. And well, taking advantage of this is a lot less boring, right?”

“You’ve been thinking about this more than a brain in a briefcase…” Joey couldn’t help but feel a bit envious at Mathew’s quick adaptation. He put himself in a leadership role right away, bounded back from crashing the buggy like it was nothing, and now he could even use his club to hit faraway things. How the heck was he supposed to match that?

Politoed nodded in approval. “Maybe we should all do this. Might finally make Meowth not bored here for the first time in his life.”

The gray cat peered at him with a ‘was that really necessary?’ expression, but without saying a word, he brushed it off. “I will say this is different from what we normally do, Mathew.”

“Oh, you mean make it a game or something?” Mathew’s eye sparkled with inspiration. “Whoever can catch the most falling stuff without letting it touch the ground wins. Flying is banned, obviously.” Demurke pretended to fall over in defeat. “We’ll put the record on the wall of like, the lobby or something.”

“Oh, I am super into this!” Minichino exclaimed, pumping her short arms. “Let’s do it!”

So this was an athletic game now, huh? Joey reckoned that Mathew’s genius might be just what he needed after all. The crocodile missed his shot to prove himself before, but if he could take home a high-score, then maybe…

Minichino put herself in the center of the Club members. “Everyone get ready. Little ol’ Minichino’s gonna give this beach something to cry about!”

Slam! This time, Minichino smacked her tail directly on the beach, blasting wind strong enough to push Joey back. He tried to remain steady as everyone dashed around him, leaping and reaching and diving for their points. There was just one object he wanted right now: a huge cardboard box, spinning and spinning right towards him. All he had to do was move where it was falling and use his body to catch—

“Coming through!”

A green blur sprung through the air and shattered Joey’s dreams. Breloom landed with an assortment of trash in her arms and a box over her mushroom cap. “Six!” she proclaimed.

“S…Six…” Joey gawked at the kangaroo as he listened to the others’ scores. Two twos. A three. A four. Not even a five.

“Just one for me,” Politoed said bashfully as he came up to Breloom.

“Yeah, only because you dived for it and missed your chance at everything else,” Breloom teased as she flattened out the box.

“Not like I’d beat you if I hadn’t.” He cracked a grin. “You’re the best out here.”

“Nah, don’t count yourself out of the running.” Breloom leaned towards him and pecked his cheek.

Joey could hardly enjoy the tender moment beneath the weight of this crushing defeat. He slouched, glumly kicking his feet through the sand as he slowly paced around. There’s no way he could get the gold now! Against this kind of competition, what was Joey supposed to do?

“Hey, don’t sweat it too much, dude.” Minichino patted Joey on the back, making him flinch in surprise. “It’s only round one. You’ll get a few!” Her eyes flicked between him and the power couple.

Suddenly, the two pulled apart. “Yeah, Poli and I did well this round, but we’re not perfect, Joe. Maybe you could catch us by surprise once you get used to it?”

“Well, thanks,” he mumbled, turning away from them. Sure, he’d get better, but it’d be nothing special. These three were just normal Club members at the end of the day. They don’t understand the kind of pressure he’s under to—

Minichino cut ahead of him. “Besides, I didn’t get any points either! You’re not alone on this one. In fact…” she whirled towards the others. “Hey, could somebody substitute in as the launcher? I wanna piece of this pie too!”

“Oh, I can help with that!” Jermy proposed. “We’ll just trade out each time so we can both have a shot.”

“Are you g-gonna use that Iron Tail of yours, Jermy?” Demurke asked.

“I could… but I got a better idea.” He stuck his tongue out and rubbed his hands. “ORB, I think it’s time we show everyone another move you can do.”

ORB began rolling away from Jermy. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You haven’t practiced your singing voice in the past seven months.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine!” Jermy dismissed. He and robot were now a good distance away from everyone else, standing directly across from one another. “Now, I’m thinking of a classical…fast pace…I think it has to do with horses?”

That seemed to be enough for ORB. “Now playing: William Tell Overture: Finale, with a lowered tempo.” From him emerged the sounds of an energetic orchestra, playing a song Joey somehow found both very familiar and brand new at the same time.

As the intro drew to a close, the whole Club watched Jermy intently.

“Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up!” With a wave of the hands and the mouth, a colorful energy in the shape of a musical note was flung forth from Jermy, straight at ORB.

Politoed raised a brow. “Round, huh? Interesting.”

“Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up.” ORB’s monotone reflected the note back at Jermy. It seemed slightly larger now.

Jermy, again. “Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up!”

To ORB. “Pick-it Up…” This time, ORB sent the energy slightly higher. It looked like the power of song was going to sail right over Jermy’s head.

“…For the Pick-it Up Club!” Jermy leaped up to spike it.

BOOM.

Several of them screamed as the shockwave of the attack enshrouded all of them in a sandy cloud. Joey shut his eyes and, once they were in the thick of it, he could barely open them without wincing.

“Oh my g-gosh!” Demurke exclaimed. Joey tried to spot her, but the torrent of dust was too thick. “Jermy, you k-kicked up more sand than trash…!”

“Yeah, dude! Talk about overclocking it a little!” Minichino said. “Now we can’t see anything!”

“Sorry, guys! I might have gotten a little too into the song. But it’s okay! I have goggles!” Jermy exclaimed from somewhere within the fog. A gasp followed. “There’s sand in the goggles! Oh no!”

“Goddamnit, Jermy…” Mathew muttered. Joey felt the reptile’s hand grab his arm and pull him along. Joey put his free arm over his eyes — it seemed like he wasn’t as affected.

“Can anybody…see me…leaping around?” Breloom asked. Joey figured what she was actually doing was probably less funny-looking than it appeared in his head.

“Save your strength, Breloom,” a distant Meowth suggested. “We’re not gonna get anywhere until Jermy’s little project drifts off.”

“Hey!” Jermy exclaimed. “I’m only about thirty three percent responsible for this!”

Minichino sounded flabbergasted. “Thirty three percent?! What in the world is — oh hey guys — what is the other percent for?” A strained squint showed a gray Minichino-like mass had met up with him and Mathew.

“Thirty three percent ORB, and thirty three percent you!” Jermy said.

“How is it my fault?!” Minichino didn’t receive an answer

“That’s ninety nine percent,” Meowth pointed out. “What’s the one percent?”

“The rich eli — OW!” Evidently, somebody had just smacked Jermy. Twice. “What the heck, Politoed?!”

“First one was for bringing up politics on the job. Get enough of that at home,” the frog explained. “Second one was for that mediocre singing voice!”

“All of you, shut — achk!” Not even Mathew was safe from coughing. “Why the hell is there still sand in the air?!”

“…Huh. It has been almost thirty seconds or so,” Breloom said.

“Unless there’s the dust clouds are magic too, I think — wait.” The interjection was aimed at Joey. “Where did your hat go?”

“My hat’s missing?!” Joey patted his head, and sure enough, there was a striking absence of hat. Had the wind from the Round attack knocked it off? No, that shouldn’t be possible with the strap. How…?

“Guys?” Jermy said nervously. “Do any of you see ORB? I don’t hear William Tell Overture anymore.”

“I hath seized your felt and kin!” A voice boomed. Through his squinting, Joey watched a shadowy figure pass over them.

“Is that a goddamn ghost?!” Mathew exclaimed.

“Art I, art I!” he declared. Elsewhere, Joey heard Politoed groan in irritation. “This hostage of mineself shalt cure these tears of defeat!”

The sandstorm around them slowly dropped along with the spirit, freeing up Joey’s vision. Trash surrounded them on all sides, kicked to the surface by Jermy’s attack. The spirit lowered into the sand, blending in with it as a shadow of sorts. It slithered towards one particular piece, a little red shovel, before bursting out of the sand, taking the shovel and some shells with it. The sand, shovel, and shells assembled into some sort of vessel for the ghoul.

“What did you do with ORB?!” Jermy cried.

“It is quite simple, thy fattened rodent!” The possessed sand castle wiggled around as it shouted angrily. “Thou hast taketh mine honour, last we met! Thou shalt pay with my perfect vengeance! We shalt take your ally and your belongings!”

Joey looked to the Club veterans. “Last y’all met?”

“Indeed!” the spirit answered for them. “Thoust with the bubbles and the kingly claim hast stolen mine dignity naught but two weeks ago!”

Politoed sighed. “A couple weeks back, these guys kept running off with our satchels,” he explained. “Had to fight them to get them back.”

“So they’re repeat offenders, then.” The speed at which Mathew brandished his club made Joey feel a bit nervous. An image of him holding his club over a bruised wingull flashed in the crocodile’s mind.

“I claimed this land by mine own pillars!” Palossand said with a theatrical air. “I adored mine subjects dearly using mine kingship, but now mine good name is gone! Gone! Thou hast brought ruin to the wondrous sands of mine kingdom! Mine turf has been tainted by your constant conquerings! Thou shalt be punished by mine own hand!”

“You don’t even have hands, you word salad sand castle!” Minichino exclaimed.

“Silence, wench!” he snapped. “If thee shant take my declarations of war in a manner of seriousness before mine presence, perhaps thou shalt change your minds whence you face my knights’ wraths!” Palossand declared. On cue, three smaller mounds of sand with faces emerged from the surface, carrying their own little shovels.

“Bet ORB is inside one of those sandygasts,” the frog advised.

“I reckon the little fellas can’t hide all of ORB inside…” In studying the threats, Joey saw something that gave him pause. One of those sand monsters had…! “My hat!

At Joey’s cry, chaos broke out. Palossand and two of his minions charged, clashing with the Club members. Politoed groaned as green streaks of energy drained from him, pulled into the big castle’s clutches. Demurke tried to slash through one of the minions, but her wing barely pushed through, as if she’d struck flesh instead of sand. Joey tried not to get distracted in the thick of it, keeping his eyes straight on the single retreating minion — the one who Joey suspected had more than just his hat.

“You ain’t going anywhere!” the crocodile commanded as he chased after him. “I know you’ve got him!”

The sand monster turned back to glance at him. At this angle, he could see a familiar red ball dangling out of his side. Bullseye. But when Joey looked back to see that nobody but him was confronting this one, he realized he might not have thought this through.

“Thou is playing a most dangerous game. If thee carries the truth, then I must knock it out of you!” He was only slightly less boisterous than his leader.

Joey tried to hide his nervousness. He knew this was a bad idea, but there was something in his heart that refused to accept defeat. The crocodile assumed the closest thing he had to a battle stance. “You ain’t gonna knock anything out of anyone,” he told his foe. “You might think you’re stronger than a knight at night, but I don’t need anybody stronger to help—”

The sandygast struck with no hesitation. A shockwave of sand bulldozed right over Joey, flinging him onto his back.

“Pah!” the sand monster said. “Thou is an oaf, removing every weakness from thine loose purse!” A deep crackling sound emitted from him. “Now I know…thou hasn’t…the slightest idea…how to battle!”

Joey tried to stand up and get out of the way, but that just made his beatdown worse — the sand monster launched a dark, shadowy fastball right into his chest, sending him bounding across the beach with as much force as yesterday’s ocean. He landed on his side, gripping his aching chest.

Joey’s eyes wavered from the sun glinting off of ORB’s antenna as the sand monster slowly approached. He knew how pathetic he looked, how easy it would be for this simple dungeon pokémon to get the best of him. Desperately, he lunged forward with his jaws and—

Sand! Sand! The sand monster pulled him by the maw and swallowed his body whole! He was coarse, rough. Irritating. Getting everywhere. Joey was left with no mouth to scream with, less he take in all of this sand.

“Now, perish!” The monster’s voice boomed all around him.

Joey struggled, flailing like a fly in a flytrap, but it was no use. He could feel his own strength being sapped. Slowly, the crocodile was fading…and fading…

Then came the blast.

For just a second, a laser from ORB tore a hole open in the monster’s form, freeing half of his body. He felt his feet graze non-living sand and planted them as firmly as he could. Joey started a game of tug-of-war with the monster, with the rope being his maw.

“Joey, listen to me.” ORB’s muffled voice came through to him from within. “Ghosts are not weak against water type attacks, but there’s a still a way out of this. Sandygasts take advantage of the light density of sand particles to form their body, with the shovel acting as a spiritual connector. Soak the sand and the shovel with a water attack and you’ll destroy their ability to use it.”

“Wouldst thou silence thy tongue?!” the monster cried.

“I do not have a tongue.”

Joey desperately struggled to break free. I ain’t able to do that! He tried to cry that out, but all that produced were muffled yells. Tears welled up in his eyes as he began to lose the tug-of-war. He was gonna be swallowed before he even had a chance to learn who—

“Don’t let your heartbeat quicken, you’re going to be fine,” ORB asserted frankly. “You may not have been taught yet, but it’s simple. Pokémon have dormant energy from within. Search for that energy and release it orally.”

Orally? Like, fire breath, but with water? Joey had no confidence in his ability to do such a thing, but he reckoned he had to try. He thought really hard about ‘water breath’, gargled in his throat, and…

…spat. There was nothing but spit that rolled off of his trapped maw like drool. It was harmless.

“Nary a tutor could save you if one tried,” the sandygast taunted. Joey’s freed legs collapsed in defeat. “How pitiable. What kind of knave would allow a boy to march forth whenst he lacks the simplest—”

His sentence would never finish. The mouth from which the monster spoke was swept away with the rest of the body, collapsing into a heap of wet sand. Suddenly, Joey was freed, sprawled out next to ORB, the shovel, and his precious hat with only a mild stinging feeling in the back. Minichino stood confidently next to the crocodile, her tail magically dampening as it swayed behind her.

“How’s that for a little Aqua Tail action?!” she asked the shadow floating where the sandygast had once been. It reached for the shovel, but she whirled around again, lobbing a small splash of water to completely dampen the shovel. The spirit gave her a furious look before storming off along the beach.

As soon as it was just the two of them, she kneeled down to help him up. “Dude, are you okay?”

“I reckon so?” Joey groaned, grabbing onto her. “Thanks for saving us.”

“No biggie.” As soon as he was back on his feet, Minichino used her now-dry tail to clean him off. After she did the same for it, she handed him his hat. “I can’t believe you found the one hoarding everything before the rest of us!”

“Well, he was hiding it worse than a bear behind a bush,” Joey mumbled as he put his hat back on. Immediately, he felt a little better, as if an old friend had returned to him.

“Can you please stand me up?” ORB, who was still on his side, asked. “It’s hard enough to rebalance when I’ve fallen in dirt.”

“Oh! Sure.”

As soon as Joey helped him back onto his wheel, he began rolling away. “Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go tell Mathew to stop running around before Jermy accidentally encourages him.”

“Stop running around?” Joey suddenly looked around. “How are the rest of y’all doing, anyway?”

“Get the hell back here! We’re not done with you yet!”

Mathew’s scream cut through the air. The reptile, looking slightly beaten up, was chasing one large spirit and two smaller ones across the beach, club raised high in the air. Jermy and Demurke were closely chasing after him, yelling over each other trying to explain that Mathew legally has to let them all go. Meowth casually followed all of them, oran berries in his paws.

“Uh, pretty good, I think,” Minichino said.

“All bark and no bite, huh?” Joey remarked. “Kinda makes me feel bad for letting them get to me.”

“Speaking of no bite…” As he approached, Politoed drew the two’s attention. “Was eyeballing your fight while dealing with mine, Joey. Got a question for you.”

The crocodile gulped in response to his tone. Had Politoed noticed ORB guiding him on how to use a water type attack? If they heard, then they’d figure out that something was weird about him for sure. “Uh, sure.”

He crossed his arms. “What’s the story behind you making it all this way without even knowing Water Gun? Not bothered by it, just curious.”

“Well, I…” Joey stalled, fishing for the best lie I could think of. “You see, my mom and dad over in Cosaline threw me out into the street when I was little, and—

“Are you sure they live in Cosaline, Joe?” Breloom, joining the trio in front of Joey, had no malice behind her voice, but didn’t have any doubt either.

Shoot. They saw right through him. “Okay, okay, I don’t really live in Cosaline!” he exclaimed. “It’s just really hard to talk about my actual home, alright? That’s why we ain’t telling the truth.”

“Hey, Joey…” As the three’s demeanors softened, Minichino offered him some comfort, resting a paw on his shoulder. “Sorry if we’re coming on too hard. We don’t mean to make you feel bad. You’re just new! And me, Politoed, and Breloom wanna help all of the new guys we can.”

“Minichino’s right,” Politoed assured him. “Wanna make sure you’re adjusting well. Figuring out why you know so little will help us to teach you, so you can get better.”

“Well…” Joey hesitated for a moment. Politoed was a water type, and seemingly a good one at that. If he would really help him learn, then adjusting Solceus would be a lot easier. But… “I dunno if I should talk about it. I promised not to talk about job stuff.”

“We’re not asking about the SEAS job. We’re asking about you,” Breloom said. “You can talk about yourself just fine, yeah?”

“Exactly! Besides…” Minichino stopped to grab a stray bottle and put it in her satchel. When she straightened up, she grinned and gave him a wink. “Whatever you’ve got going on, Politoed, Breloom, and I can handle it. We’re good at keeping secrets.”

Joey felt bad for not keeping to SEAS’ word, but his resistance was slowly giving way. “Okay. I’ll talk.” He took a preparatory breath. “See, I ain’t from around these parts...and I mean really not from around these parts.”

Minichino tilted her head. “What, are you one of those human guys or something?”

“Yeah, I — wait. Hah?” Joey was taken aback. “How the heck did you guess that?”

Just as he said that, the air of the space surrounding the four pivoted. Joey caught Breloom’s grin waver, and Politoed reflexively played with his medallion. Did they know something he didn’t…?

Minichino could only give him another smile and an awkward shrug. “Lucky guess?”

“Most of us grew up hearing legends about people called ‘humans’ crossing over from a place called Earth with a mission in mind,” Politoed informed him. “Happens pretty rarely, only about once or twice every two hundred years.”

“They’re kind of a big deal,” Breloom added. “Since they aren’t natural-born Solceans, they can get involved with the Legendary Court from time to time. The opinion on them keeps flipping. On one hand, some of them help solve a lot of problems. On the other hand, the few who cause problems tend to make for pretty ugly situations.”

“All that is to say, good or bad…” Politoed kneeled down and booped his maw. “You’re pretty special.”

Joey appreciated the explanation, although he couldn’t help but lean his head away bashfully. “I ain’t so sure about that…”

“Are you kidding?! It’s super crazy to actually meet one for real!” Minichino exclaimed. “I have so many questions! Like, what do humans look like? What kind of cool powers do they have? What does ‘fuck’ mean?”

“We’re kinda hairy and we stand on two legs, we have opposable thumbs and sweat, and…you’re gonna have to ask Mathew on that one,” Joey said.

“Oh, is Math one, too?” Breloom asked.

Joey bit his tongue. “Don’t tell him or anybody else I said a word about this,” he pleaded. “I reckon if I get him out of wack, it’ll make getting this job at SEAS a lot harder. And if we don’t get the job, it’ll make finding my mom and dad and figuring out who the heck I am a whole new can of—”

“Woah, woah, woah, walk it back for a second!” Minichino cut in with surprise. “What do you mean, figure out who you are?”

Joey hesitated. Should he really tell them this much? Well, he supposed that he’d gone this far already, and they did really want to help… “All of my memories since I showed up on Solceus yesterday are more blank than a ripped-up art canvas. It ain’t a big deal, because after I work things out with SEAS, I can—”

“So you’re telling me you’ve lost your memories and you’re not out there taking on the world until you get them back?” Breloom sounded amazed. “I’ve gotta say, that takes some serious restraint. If I were wearing your claws, I wouldn’t stop moving until I had everything sorted out.”

“Well, I can’t exactly do that.” As much as, admittedly, he kind of wanted to, now that Breloom brought it up. “I got Mathew to worry about. He remembers Earth, so I know he’ll help me once we’re all settled. And if I stay in SEAS, looking for more clues will be a whole lot easier.”

The conversation screeched to a halt as the trio shrunk away in thought. Minichino idly filled her satchel, and Breloom tapped her lip with a claw. It was like they were waiting for somebody else to put fuel in the fire of the conversation again.

That role fell to Politoed. “Might just have an idea now.” As a show of demonstration, Politoed raised his head and fired a stream of bubbles from his mouth. The mesmerized crocodile watched them fly along the wind, popping on the surface of the ocean. “Tomorrow, after work, we’ll meet in front of Minichino’s place, and I’ll teach you how to use water moves just fine. Could even bring Mathew and the rest of club, too. Then you’ll be able to adjust to Solceus and blend in easier.”

Joey was amazed by the offer. Special training time with normal Solceans? He was nervous at the prospect of having everyone there, but this sounded extremely helpful. “Sounds like a rodeo.”

“Yeah! I’m not sure what a rodeo is, but awesome!” Minichino cheered. “I’ll have to make sure I’m ready for guests. Sounds like it’s time to clean the place top to bottom!”

Breloom gave a nod, then crouched down to Joey’s height. “In the meantime, don’t let whatever SEAS is pushing you to do here at the club freak you out,” she advised. “They’re just a company. You should take things one step at a time. Maybe you could focus more on cracking that noggin, if you can. Not having memories is a pretty big deal.”

Although he had some concerns at first, Joey was not regretting being honest with his fellow Club members. It was hard to deny that he was getting swept up in SEAS’ plan for them more than he was hunting for his past. Maybe it was high time he flip those priorities back to where they should belong. “Sure, pardner.”
 
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