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canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Got in the catch-up-with-stuff-you-should spirit of Blitz and read chapters 3 and 4!

Chapter 3 Quotes

Dusk burst into laughter at that; a full, eyes-closed, wheezing laugh.
and then she said "encyclopedia", funniest shit ive ever heard

Dusk leaned back in her seat and nodded at the starkly-coloured bird
I understood "starkly-coloured" as meaning many strong colors rather than the... black? that Veracity is.

"That one there is Eliza. No, not the one with scales. The one who looks most human? Dark green hair, very pale skin? She is a gallade. She thinks she was almost human even before the Change and she is always trying to make a proof of it. Like it matters."
you see i took shits in the toilet and wiped my ass!

Non joke comment: I remember Dusk calling it the Shift previously? Is this on purpose or is there an inconsistency?

"Come on, Salem. Class is about to start. You're not even scheduled to join just yet, you've not had time to properly acclimatise."
cmon man dont say words like acclimatise like shes gonna know what they mean (read: like im gonna know what they mean)

Their plumage was a striking red and cream and iridescent green, and a bifurcated scarlet wattle hung from their head... A male blaziken, then?
the entire beginning of this chapter is just this gif on repeat
leonardo-dicaprio-rick-dalton.gif


There was one morph, cross-legged on the floor, quietly reading a book Salem knew this one's species for sure: mienshao.
Is there a period missing? I couldn't parse this as a single sentence.

The meatballs were warm.

"Not bad, right?"

She nodded, barely looking up from her food. It was not bad at all.
surprised to find that salem likes balls in her mouth ehuehueheeuehue

Her voice was strained, almost a croak, and put Salem in mind of Laura's cautious footsteps around the creaky patch of the landing floor when sneaking downstairs late at night.
Liked this line.

Dusk had saved the 'Colosseum' for later in the tour, it seemed.
genuinely imagining a place with those gamecube stands where they can play colosseum

Dusk led her onto a mezzanine that overlooked the arena. The platform was clear glass,
geez none of the dog morphs better start scooting

So far she'd caught her reflection only faintly in poorly reflective surfaces.
Really? I had to question this line. If I remember right, Salem had been a complete morph for at least two weeks with things like speech therapy and such. I find it hard to believe that she wouldn't have asked for a clear mirror at any point or that she would have been denied a look into one.

She leaned over the sink to examine her eyes up close. The same, as far as she could tell;
what the FUCK ??!?!?? THE TITLE LIED ?!?!??!

Chapter 4 Quotes

It didn't feature any purrloin, but there was a torracat with gorgeous fur sheen and really excellent pokésign at one point, which was something. Salem liked her.
theyre putting chemicals in the water that are turning the FREAKIN CATS GAY

That part was the only part that unnerved Salem – she didn't like to think of separating from her own human friend.
salem is going to get OWNED

There was a lot Laura would find out one day. Such things included the existence of Mewtwo, corruption watchdog organisations not holding the League accountable for doping, and live pokémon experimentation by Macro Cosmos.
'cause you're a brand new species, big cat

---

General Comments

I found myself kind of unengaged in chapter 3 before Salem's confrontation with Veracity and I wondered a lot why that was, but I think in the end it boiled down to the amount of exposition and my lack of attachment to the characters after such a long pause in reading. After (and during) the Veracity confrontation, though, no problems - I think it made me care much more about Salem and Dusk again, seeing them face adversity.

I liked Salem and Dusk's heart to heart in the dormitory, though I was expecting Salem to still mention some kind of resolution on the Laura issue before going into processing the day's events since she seemed pretty hung up on it. Just some kind of baton pass between the topics.

Chapter 4 content-wise was pretty familiar to me as expected, but there were definitely notable improvements. Salem doesn't go "oh I will leave this house immediately and never come back" at Laura asking her to leave her alone - instead, it's an omen of what's to come. Salem's reason for leaving the house has been separated from the "leave me alone" comment and replaced with a much more sensible experience of being trapped in a house with only uncaring people.

Some remaining short notes I can't form coherent paragraphs from:
  • The argument with the parents feels true to life, and we feel Laura's helplessness.
  • I want to watch Replica Heart.
  • I'm glad we get Laura's situation explained to us through her talking to Salem since having readers just try to piece things together from the argument and assumptions about how the pokécanon is adapted would easily run the risk of misinterpretation.
I think that's it for my thoughts! Hopefully I'll get to chapter 5 faster than I got to these after it comes out.
 

love

Memento mori
Pronouns
he/him/it
Partners
  1. leafeon
Review for chapter 3
"Encyclopedia," said Salem, without thinking.

That was pretty funny

a peach-and-rose tabby with a pincushion tail

(I want to see art of the skitty morph, that sounds adorable)

At one point, Dusk simply flowed through a description of her favourite battle she'd spectated, with Salem listening, ears perked, the whole time. Dusk's eyes were bright and her feather quivering as she described the attacks involved with illustrative gestures and a few sound effects. Eventually she noticed Salem staring.

Aww

"Oh," said Dusk. "Okay, then." She had a different kind of grin, now. Something about the eyes. Brighter.

They sure are getting along well

I do not believe she meant to let me down.

Kind of reminds me of some of the stuff I said for chapter 4. Since Laura cared about Salem, it makes sense to believe that her reasons for leaving were more than just lazy excuses, but without a better understanding of the world, that is hard to prove, especially to others.

I imagine Veracity may have once been too attached to an abusive or neglectful trainer and is projecting that onto Salem—just a guess.

Sat at the foot of the stands, Salem could see the battle below at a perfect vantage through the clear platform. Two morphs were battling each other in what amounted to a small forest

"Battle" is kind of repeated

…It would make quite the hiding place for pilfered treasures.

Very catlike.

I feel that Salem's awkwardness is conveyed very well, and it's clear that even Dusk isn't an expert at articulating herself. It's also nice to see Dusk comforting Salem when she feels sad. Good job, Dusk. Yay.

This chapter also hammers home how much effort Perihelion has put into this morph facility—they have the surely expensive arena with changing terrain, for example, and even small stuff like the shower and shampoo is tailored for morphs. It makes sense they would want the morphs to feel content, and it almost makes one forget they're not the good guys. I still worry they have equally sophisticated measures to quell resistance or prevent escape, when the time comes for conflict...

Review for Chapter 4

But not every day. Not enough to stop Salem pacing and grooming and scratching until her paws hurt for days on days on days. She thought of how hard it was each day just to wait for Laura to come home. Weeks on end without Laura, without any kind of stimulation… She was going to go half-mad.

This is pretty scary, and I don't doubt that many pets in real life experience a similar reality. I tend to think about animal welfare a lot, and this chapter hits on that. Although a normal dog or cat is not as smart as Salem, it's still terrible to be subjected to constant monotony and to lose a lifelong companion for reasons you can't understand. I wouldn't argue that captivity is generally worse than being wild, but you'd think humans would do better.

The ways in which the house seemed to close in on her grew with each night.

I think this could just as well be simplified to "The house seemed to close in on her with each night."

If only she were human, she'd be with Laura.

It is interesting that Salem believes this even though we see that Laura, despite being a human, doesn't have much agency. I think this is part of why Salem tells herself that Laura must have wanted to leave—she doesn't want to admit to herself that humans can be powerless and unhappy too. Becoming human is kind of her biggest hope. The thing is, if Laura were "happy to leave" Salem, then the natural response would be resentment or at least some sense of betrayal, but I don't think Salem can bring herself to feel those things for Laura. There's some cognitive dissonance that I don't think she can or wants to investigate too closely.

I imagine that at some point, she'll realize that she doesn't have much agency as a human, either, at least not now. She's under Perihelion's thumb.

Was she thinking of Salem, as Salem was thinking of her?

This short scene felt effective—these three paragraphs encapsulate weeks. There is nothing for her to do but ponder these questions endlessly.

Sooner or later she would walk through that door and face whatever consequence awaited, or she would give up on ever walking in and eventually meet an unambiguously grim fate.

I think this is better without "unambiguously"

I understand Salem better after this chapter; I think her backstory explains her desire to become human. And despite what I said about humans sometimes lacking agency, she is at least basically still correct that things will probably suck less as a human (this remark may or may not age terribly). At least modern humans usually don't have to worry about immediate access to food, shelter, etc. and usually aren't left alone in a small space for long periods of time.
 
Chapter 5: What You Don't Know

unrepentantAuthor

A cat that writes stories.
Location
UK
Pronouns
they/she
Partners
  1. purrloin-salem
  2. sneasel-dusk
  3. luz-companion
  4. brisa-companion
  5. meowth-laura
  6. delphox-jesse
  7. mewtwo
  8. zeraora
Author's Note:

Delicious. Finally some good fucking plot.

This was another tricky one to write by virtue of being yet another frankendraft. My thanks to my friends and beta readers for helping me workshop the damn thing. The next chapter is practically already drafted and the chapter art's been just about done for ages, thank goodness! Expect it soon. Chapter art for this chapter isn't done yet, I'll get round to it.

Chapter-specific CWs:

Implied blood.

Chapter Changelog:

Expect a number of improvements to the prose in a week or so when I've had a chance to implement feedback from folks! And the chapter art... eventually.


Chapter 5

What You Don't Know

"Get the fuck up, everyone! It's another wonderful training day!"

Salem wailed softly into her pillow. Human sleep schedules were an insult to good sense, and her hybrid brain did not seem to have picked up their predilection for diurnal living. Crepuscular, crepuscular, that's what she was. She rolled the word around in her mouth. Yes, she was a creature of long sleeps and twilight hours.

"Salem, I'm going to kick your ass. You get to choose whether I do it in here, or in the gym!"

Salem turned her head to levy a weary glare at her friend. "I don't care about training. Want to find Laura."

The sneasel hybrid shrugged expansively. "We're gonna talk to Alisha about that just as soon as she's back from her trip. Remember you said she was the only human you wanted to ask? Come on, it's training time!"

"Why does this matter, tell me again?"

Dusk laughed. "Pokémon love to fight! Didn't you want to be a League fighter with your Laura? Don't you want to see what morphs are capable of in a battle?"

"No," lied Salem. "I want to only sleep."

"I'll give you my croissants if you come to training with me."

That, tragically, was too powerful an incentive.

Salem rolled out of bed and hissed half-heartedly at Dusk, who beamed at her cheerfully and threw a lazy salute. How was she already dressed? Her other roommate, the gallade-morph called Eliza, wasn't even dressed yet and she was all serious looks and hard work. Did Dusk even sleep?

As was becoming routine, Salem blasted herself in the shower, wriggled into her uniform, and skulked out of the dorm after Dusk, Eliza having gone ahead already without fanfare. The sneasel did her morning ritual of thumping the corridor wall a few paces along with her fist. The morphs in the neighbouring dorm cried out in protest as always, and Dusk snickered quietly to herself as they headed to the battle grounds.

They passed by the canteen on their way to training, and while she could go eat, it would mean missing out on early morning combat instruction, and therefore missing out on doing it with Dusk (and also disappointing Dusk) who insisted that food before a fight put you at risk of cramps. So instead she just inhaled the smells coming from the hall as they passed, shuddered a little with anticipation, and rolled her eyes back in her head as she imagined eating something hot and buttery after training. And seconds. Yes please.

The coliseum's gymnasium configuration was a wide open space, making use of the largest indoor area in the facility to host everything a morph could need to physically or mentally train for fitness and for combat. Chalk lines indicated battle spaces, scuffed by repeated use and scorched by fire and lightning from previous combatants. Mundane exercise equipment stood ready for building a stronger physique. Dummies stood by for target practice. A racing track encircled the room, around which some morph or group of morphs was often running at any time of day. Salem waved hesitantly to Eliza, breaking a sweat on a pull-up bar, and received a terse nod in reply. Dusk, as always, waited for Salem with that sharp grin.

Class proper would begin shortly. For now, though, Dusk would play teacher.

"What are we trying today?" she asked, sing-song.

Salem had an answer prepared this time.

"Teach me how to fight," she said, eyes dilating. Her first few days of training had been heavy on stretches, exercises, and obstacle courses. Her only literal 'fight' since stepping in her tank had been the snowball fight a few days back. But dummies that never fought back were boring; she felt ready for more.

The grin showed every one of Dusk's carnivore teeth.

"Okay, Southpaw."

Another nickname, a reference to Salem's dominant left hand. She wondered if every morph collected nicknames like she did.

Dusk taught her a new stance first, for defence. Then, a handful of punches, swipes, kicks and blocks. The sneasel was confident in every one of them, as if she had learnt them years ago, rather than days. The rapid learning effect was still in play, it seemed.

"Ready?"

"I think so."

"Then show me!"

Dusk waited for Salem to approach with a strike, then just as she wound back an arm, Dusk jabbed her in the side with curled knuckles. Painful! But better than claws.

Salem spat, and went in again, this time with a lunge. The moment she did, Dusk was on her left, landing a blow on her back. Hiss!

Wild strikes, fast and plentiful – Dusk ducked and dodged, then kicked her in the shins when she ran out of momentum.

"Is this really training?" Salem yowled, bitterly.

"No talking during training!" said Dusk, all teeth and glee.

Dusk's jabs, scratches, and smacks all stung, but Salem wasn't tired out yet. Within a few more good blows she became used to it, her anger wore off, and she could keep her mind on the fight.

Breathing hard and dodging strikes, Salem realised that this wasn't a matter of effort, like in physical training. Nor was it like the fights she'd had as a purrloin. This was more of a puzzle. She could fight and think simultaneously. It was almost like being her own pokémon trainer. She could make a plan.

"Don't slow down, hit me!" cried Dusk.

Salem tried a few more jabs, not really expecting them to land, and looked for what Dusk did in response.

'Southpaw,' Dusk had called her at the start. Her opponent was always moving to her left, Salem realised. That way, Dusk kept making it harder for Salem to swing with any force with her stronger left paw. It was obvious. Anger flooded into her head. Stupid! She'd missed it! But she could use this.

Salem went in for a jab: a feint! And swung hard with her right fist.

There was a dull crack, sharp pain in her fingers, two cries of surprise – her own and Dusk's.

"Are you okay?" she yelped.

But the grin was bigger than ever.

"Nice! Good! Yes!" shouted Dusk, eyes wild. "That's what I want! Do it again!"

She got to her feet without help and came at Salem. On the defence now, Salem put up her arms as she'd been taught. Block, block – it was painful, but it saved her face… And it let her hit back.

Dusk's wild energy was infectious, and Salem took on the same furious aspect. Block, block, strike, strike, strike. Nothing else. Not even the pain.

Salem learnt fast, even for a morph. Dusk's attacks weren't terrifying threats now – block, strike, block – they were rote. Easy. She was even faster than she needed to be. She was weightless, tireless, limitless!

She knocked a jabbing arm to the side and caught Dusk on the throat.

Dusk's eyes flashed, then her claws. Her next attack was instantaneous, powerful, and impossible to block.

Someone – herself? Salem wasn't sure – cried out. She staggered back, clutching at her own neck.

"Salem! I didn't mean—"

A tumble backward; a flinch as her head hit floor. The ceiling and its many bright lights. There were so few shadows in the gym. There was metal-scent in the air, and wetness on her fur. Her head rang.

She mumbled something unclear. She didn't feel much of anything, not yet, but she had the vague notion that very soon she would be in a great deal of pain.

Someone was tending to her.

Had she made a mistake?

Maybe she'd got something wrong.

XxX​

"It's a good thing hybrids are almost as tough as pokémon," someone was saying, in a voice that sounded almost human but for a soft, insistent reverberation, like an echo in the skull.

"Eliza?" muttered Salem. She blinked away the stars in her eyes and saw the gallade girl, eyes fixed on Salem's head. Up close, Eliza looked more human than any morph, but for her porcelain-white skin and slate-grey head crest.

"Yes. You'll be alright in a moment; you haven't sustained a concussion or serious blood loss. Just a knockout and a light wound. I've applied a potion. You ought to be fine by this afternoon."

Eliza raised a brow at Dusk, who was looking sheepish on the other side of Salem, and stood to leave. Dusk looked down at Salem and offered her a hand up. She took it.

"Feeling okay?" asked the sneasel.

Salem wet her lips, and touched the scab on her neck, then the bruise on her head. They weren't so bad.

"Yes. I have been hurt more badly than this. Before."

"Uh, okay. I'm glad you're okay. You did good. Really good! Just… Maybe don't go for the neck next time. We don't do that. Not unless— You don't do that."

Salem nodded, swallowed, and tried to focus on 'you did good.'

Dusk beckoned her over, and Salem followed her to the benches to the side of the sparring court. More of their classmates were present – including Veracity, to her chagrin – as was the absol-morph instructor, Whiskey. He nodded to her and gave a quick [well done] gesture to Eliza.

"Is anyone not ready?" he growled, once everyone had taken a seat. "Any problems?" No-one spoke. He grunted in approval. "Good. Let's begin."

Whiskey inclined his head and tapped the curved, bladed horn that crowned one side of his scalp. His claw made a sharp knocking sound as he tapped.

"Many of you have been staring at this thing," he began, without scorn in his tone. "I expect you've been thinking to yourselves that it must be quite a weapon. For a natural absol, it can be used on its own as a slashing implement, or serve as a focus for such attacks as megahorn. I could do the same. But – and pay attention, Sriracha – it is not the most important combat tool available to me by any means. Any guesses?"

Eliza's hand shot up. Whiskey waved at her to speak up while hardly looking at her.

"Your brain, sir?"

Whiskey chuckled just once, sharply. "Good answer. It wasn't a trick question, I'm looking for a physical weapon, but full credit for creative thinking."

"Claws?" called out Sriracha.

Whiskey squinted wearily at the blaziken. "Claws? What? No. Bad answer. Come on, third time's the charm, they say. Anyone? You, new morph. Take a guess."

Salem froze, the absol's scrutiny already enough to make her tail puff up.

"Uh."

The absol shook his head, and reached down for Salem's forearm. He took it and raised it up, shifting his grip up past her wrist as he did so.

"What is this?" snapped Whiskey. He gripped her paw in his such that he was pressing his thumb into the part of her palm nearest her fingers. The pressure made her splay her fingers and extend her claws. For a moment her hackles went up, but then she felt Dusk's lower leg against hers, and knew there was no danger. Her fur flattened a little.

"…What?"

"What is this thing I am holding?" he repeated.

"It's my paw?" she blurted, looking right up at him with her eyes dilated.

"What's it for?"

"I don't—"

"Your 'paw'," he demanded. "What is your paw for? What do you do with it?"

"Scratching," she said, instantly. But that didn't sound right in her ears even as she spoke it.

"Try again." He tilted his head at her expectantly.

"Signing," she said, correcting herself. "I sign more than I scratch. I… I communicate. That's right, isn't it? Communication is the weapon. Teamwork."

"It's a much better answer," he said, and dropped her paw to step back again. "We'll cover teamwork later, it's a bit advanced for now. Well done."

Whiskey faced his students, sighed deeply and asked, "Can anyone here explain what your 'paws' are for?"

There was a metallic shearing sound as Veracity raised her wing. Whiskey glanced at her, and she spoke up immediately.

"Whatever you need them for," she croaked. "A hand is capable of countless tasks, most of them more useful than inflicting small injuries on another creature."

Whiskey nodded, the corners of his mouth turning down pensively. "That is, in fact, word-for-word what I said the last time it came up in class. You have a keen memory."

The corviknight didn't even look pleased. Just somehow… confident. Salem didn't feel so hungry any more.

"Hands are capable of countless uses on their own," continued Whiskey, "including both physical attacks and signing, along with channelling elemental energy. They are also capable of using the many tools of humanity, designed to be held in human hands."

Whiskey's expression barely changed, but for a hint of smug satisfaction below his usual dourness.

"You'll learn about those in due time. For now, I'd like to demonstrate the value of hands in combat by subduing an opponent without using any typed attacks at all. Veracity?"

The corviknight-morph stood, and stepped forward wordlessly to stand near Whiskey. She stared down at him with avian coldness. The absol didn't miss a beat.

"Go ahead and attack me," he growled.

Veracity went for him in a flash of polished feathers, her arms gleaming with steel-type energy. Whiskey was ready for her.

Salem hardly followed the movements of the absol's body. He stepped to one side, took hold of Veracity's arm, and pulled her forward. In an instant, the corviknight was hurtling over Whiskey's back, arms akimbo, and then with a decisive lunge he had her pressed to the ground in a sprawl. He paused long enough to make his control of the situation clear, then stepped smartly back to allow Veracity to rise to her feet.

Their faces barely changed throughout. Salem's had turned into a gawp with ears pinned back in shock, just from watching. She could get her head around learning new and challenging combat techniques; she couldn't see herself ever being so calm and matter-of-fact as the instructor and his volunteer.

"Some more good answers I've had from other students include 'creativity' and 'misdirection'," remarked Whiskey, as he returned to his spot in front of the benches. "The bottom line is that hybrids have more options – you have more options – than natural weapons and typed attacks in a fight. For today's sparring sessions, I want to see creativity, misdirection, brains. Not just ordinary strikes. Impress me! Veracity will take the first challenge. Don't expect her to go easy on you."

The corviknight stood at ease in front of the class and waited quietly for someone to approach. That someone, very quickly, was Sriracha. He stood tall, stepped forward, and cracked his knuckles. When he did, flames sputtered into life around his wrists.

"I am an ace striker," he announced, with pride. "Very good at fighting."

Veracity bowed, just a little, and calmly strode to her side of the small battle court. Sriracha took his place with a cocky twirl and a trail of flame.

"We're gonna see who is the boss bird," whispered Dusk. Salem stifled a giggle.

Whiskey held up an arm.

"One round, win by technical knockout or yield. Standard rules apply. I want to see creative fighting, you two. You're hybrids, now."

Veracity nodded expressionlessly. Sriracha was focused on dancing from foot to foot, balling his fists, staring down his opponent. Whiskey growled under his breath.

"Match, begin!"

Sriracha cried out and resumed the odd twirling he'd done before, only faster, more purposeful. With each motion he thrust a claw out as if striking the air, and crowed sharply.

"Swords dance," commentated Whiskey, quietly.

Veracity watched without making a move of her own. She hardly blinked.

Sriracha brandished his blazing claws at her, cocking his head in confusion.

"The fight started!" he shouted. "Fight me!"

Veracity crossed her arms. "I am fighting you," she replied.

Sriracha scoffed with a harsh chirp and resumed his dancing motions. Veracity made no attempt to interrupt, until the blaziken's claws and beak were practically aglow with energy even after he came to a stop.

"Big mistake," he crowed. Then he struck.

Sriracha's body erupted in flames so bright that Salem shrank back from the heat, and he dashed headlong towards Veracity.

"Flare blitz," muttered Whiskey.

In the instant before he made contact, the corviknight braced herself, clutching her shoulders and drawing in a kind of orange light around herself.

"Endure," said Whiskey, with apparent relish.

Sriracha's body collided with Veracity's, and her metallic plumage glowed with the heat of the fire. Her feathers gave off grey smoke and a low roaring sound as they cooled. But she did not collapse. The orange light from before circled her body in a tight loop.

Without a word, she struck back. A feathered arm lashed out with enough power to send a shockwave through the air, and send Sriracha tumbling backwards like a plastic bag caught in the wind. His limbs thudded against the court ground as he rolled to a stop. He did not move except to utter a thoroughly winded moan.

"Reversal," announced Whiskey. "A move that grows in strength the closer the user is to fainting. Excellent technique." Then, after a few seconds, "Sriracha can no longer battle. Veracity wins."

Veracity nodded curtly to Whiskey, and walked off the court. She looked hardly able to stand. Eliza tossed a potion to her, and she caught it deftly. She didn't wince as she sprayed it on her injuries. Meanwhile, Eliza went to help Sriracha back to the benches.

"Striking power alone will not win battles, if your opponent can turn your strength against you," said Whiskey, firmly. "Use your intelligence to surprise and control your opponent, and to protect yourself."

Sriracha wheezed as he got to his feet. "That was a good trick," he gasped. "I won't fall for it again."

Whiskey chuckled. "I hope you're right. Stay alert, everyone, and remember: sometimes the best fighting move is no move at all."

Salem swallowed hard. She'd been digging her claws into her palms as she watched. She didn't even know how to use basic moves, yet, let alone how she could compete with fighters like these.

"I've had enough training today," she told Dusk.

"Okay," replied the sneasel. "I'll catch up later with Eliza. Let's go eat."

Dusk excused them both from the lesson, and Whiskey waved them away. Only when there was a closed door between Salem and Veracity did her appetite return.

XxX​

"Picking at it won't help it heal."

Salem sighed and shoved her left paw in her pocket. Dusk was grinning again, at least, although not in the same mad, toothy way as usual.

"It will get better," said Salem, flatly.

"If I catch you picking again, I'm putting your bandages back on."

"You can try."

Salem returned to picking at her food instead. While she had savoured the warm, buttery breakfast pastries she craved, and devoured a small collection of meats, Taylor had insisted she also eat fruit and vegetables to supply her modified nutritional needs. She didn't like the sound of suffering poor health from not meeting those needs. She didn't much like fruit and vegetables either. She ran her tongue over her back teeth, feeling their edges, their sharp points. They were meat-tearing teeth. Not meant for 'greens.'

"It's this or the supplements," said Dusk, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"I know."

"The pills aren't so bad, you know."

"You said this already."

She continued to sulk towards her plate, until the silence was broken not by Dusk, but by Sriracha.

"Hello, ladies!" he said, sitting down opposite them with much clicking of claws on the tiled floor.

"Hello, Sauce," said Dusk, showing far too much of her upper teeth.

Sriracha's face instantly collapsed into a displeased frown.

"I don't call you dumb things," he said, wattles quivering.

"Only because you can't think of anything to call me," retorted Dusk, jeering at him.

The blaziken stared at each of them in turn, using only one eye to do so, turning his head to the side like a bird.

"Why don't you like me?" he asked, earnestly. "I'm very cool. Everyone likes me."

Dusk laughed so hard her eyes scrunched up and she slapped the table. "You're so full of yourself!"

"What else would I be full of?" he asked, sincerely.

While Dusk continued laughing, Salem looked Sriracha over.

The blaziken, like Veracity, was another morph markedly dissimilar to herself. Mammals made up most of the population of morphs that she'd had any interaction with, and they at least had ears and fur and plenty of more-or-less the same body language as her, but he was avian, and it showed. His feathers puffed up and shivered at almost any stimulation. A proud beak dominated his face, which did not seem to trouble him when he spoke or ate, but Salem imagined could deal a seriously painful bite. His wattles jiggled when he jolted his head this way and that, which he did constantly. He could look to the side while keeping his head still if he wanted – every morph had that human talent now – but he made very little effort to adapt to his new form.

Salem had seen an un-morphed blaziken in some of the League matches she'd watched with Laura. They were already so much like humans. Perhaps the physical change wasn't meaningful to him. The change to his mind didn't seem to matter much either. Why had he agreed to the Change?

"Being full of yourself means you like yourself too much," she told him, inducing further laughter from the sneasel. "It's . . . dangerous."

Sriracha made an odd noise in his beak that she didn't understand.

"Not liking myself would be bad," he said, as if discussing today's lunch options. "I'm very good at fighting, and that's good. I'm good."

Conversation with less articulate morphs wasn't quite the stimulating experience Salem hoped for in a social encounter. Sriracha was perhaps the best example of such a morph.

While she was thinking of something else to say, Dusk recovered from her giggling fit and spoke up for her.

"You haven't fought me yet," said the sneasel. Despite her persistent grin, there was an edge to it. When Dusk was serious, her eyes didn't crease as much. The inflection at the end of her words went down, instead of up. Salem could tell.

"I'd beat you," replied Sriracha, his head tilting further to the side. "Fire beats ice. Fighting beats both ice and dark. I'd beat you easily."

Dusk shook her head, slowly. "Nah. You don't know what real fighting is, Sauce. When we get paired up in practice, you'll learn."

Sriracha apparently didn't have any way to respond to that, or didn't think it was worth replying to, so after a few seconds of intense avian concentration he gave up and spoke to Salem instead.

"Don't worry, Purrloin! You will get good at fighting very fast, faster than you think. And then you won't be hurt as easy or as bad! Good luck!"

He stood from the canteen bench and wandered off, neatly avoiding any further barbed remarks from Dusk.

"Why are you so mean to him?" asked Salem, out of pure curiosity.

"He's an idiot," replied Dusk, not looking up from her food. "I don't like that. Being an idiot gets people killed."

Dusk didn't go on to elaborate on this point, and Salem had no knowledge as of yet on how idiocy got you killed, but her human imagination provided her with several violent ideas about how you could get killed for being an idiot.

She was profoundly committed to not being an idiot.

She was not especially confident about whether she was one or not.

As the pair finished their food, the skitty-morph, Heather, pushed the canteen doors open and dashed several feet forward, clutching her tail. The doors had swung shut on it the day before when she'd become distracted on her way in, Salem recalled. This time, however, the doors swung shut only slowly, their momentum controlled by some kind of mechanism atop the hinges.

"Good," said Salem, firmly. "My tail is safe."

Dusk chuckled. "Told you it was worth it to complain about the doors."

The suggestion box was a new fixture in the morph lounge, installed shortly after Salem had moved into her dorm. It was a grey cylinder about the size of someone's head, with a thin slot on the upper face, and a small writing table beside it. A pad of paper and a pen were provided for the morphs, who were welcome to make complaints and requests and place them inside. Salem wasn't literate yet, but Dusk could scribe for her, as could the human staff when they weren't busy.

"Why not just talk to someone?" Salem had asked, when she'd first seen it. "Ask them with words? Talk about it?"

Dusk had shrugged. "Well, what if you can't find them? Or you're shy?"

[What is the meaning of] "shy" [please?]

"Oh it's like…" [Being scared, but in deference, not of a threat]

"I'm not shy!"

"Yes but someone might be shy, and they can use the box! Anyway, it helps to have your ask written down so nobody will forget it. Right?"

Bickering had broken out any time someone wanted to use the box, at first. The mightyena, Bramble, deemed it "official" and "human" and therefore inexplicable and best avoided, and several morphs followed his lead. It lasted a tense afternoon, until Dusk started submitting joke requests. She'd made dozens of them, asking for everything from a new battle court inside the canteen, to a delivery service to bring breakfast to her dorm. After that, other morphs felt more comfortable making actual requests.

It seemed that the first one to get a response was canteen doors that don't slam shut. Several morphs had submitted that one, including Salem.

Dusk flashed a confident smile. "Do you feel better about asking for help to see Laura, now?"

Salem pursed her lips, hesitantly thrashed her tail, and then nodded to Dusk.

Yes. The suggestion box was good.

XxX​

When they reached the morph lounge, something was wrong.

Salem could hear chatter. More than just loud chatter, in fact. There was always some casual conversation to be heard, and morphs often spoke loudly when excited. This time it had a sharpness to it. There were people being loud not for fun, but to shout each other down.

"—had it up to here with your naivety," one voice was saying. "You should expect more of yourself than preening, flexing and strutting about as if your past life still matters!"

It sounded familiar, but Salem didn't quite recognise the speaker.

"I don't like you! And I don't like the things you say! I'm right and you're bad!"

Salem easily distinguished the second voice as Sriracha's.

Dusk looked at Salem with a frown and put a clawed finger to her lips. [Shush!]

"We should make no noise ourselves," she said, "or we will be part of the fight."

Salem signed an anxious [huh?] in return.

[Shush!] again, this time with a roll of the eyes.

Salem took the point, and was careful to open the doors without drawing attention to herself. They slipped through and saw Sriracha and Eliza in the middle of the lounge, standing with their faces barely a foot apart and yelling at each other, his wattle quivering and her eyes narrowed. The roundness of the room lent itself to a kind of circle of morphs, all looking in. They stood just off from the blaziken and the gallade, variously trying to talk over the argument, fidgeting nervously, or enjoying the spectacle.

"You're still thinking like a brainless young League sweeper," Eliza shouted, hands balled into fists at her side. "You're not a blaziken any more, you're a hybrid! You're human as well as pokémon! More human!"

Sriracha was alternately yelling back, making explosive avian vocalisations, and signing furiously with sparks bursting from his wrists as he did.

"I was a League sweeper! The best!" [I could knock you out, easily! I'm warning you!] "I'm not stupid! You're stupid!"

Salem's ears flattened back against her head. "He says things without thinking," she observed.

[Shush!] from Dusk again, but the grin was back.

Dusk led Salem around the gaggle of hybrids and hopped up on one of the couches. Salem joined her. The view was better from the back of a couch.

The shouting continued, only now the two of them weren't even stopping when the other spoke, and Sriracha's wrists had lit up with flickering flames. Eliza hadn't brandished the spurs that protruded from her elbows yet. She never had before now, not outside of training.

"What's going to happen?" asked Salem.

Eliza and Sriracha could hurt each other. That could happen. It could be bad, bad enough to send one of both of them to the infirmary.

She dug a claw into her palm.

Dusk shrugged. "Eliza isn't an idiot, she's just angry. She can kick his ass without anything going wrong. It's fine. I think that will happen, actually. I want to see them have an actual battle."

Salem's heart jumped. She used to watch League fights with Laura, back home. Her heart had jumped then, like she'd been part of the battles just by seeing them.

"I think I do too," she said, so quietly she didn't think Dusk would hear.

In the centre of the circle, Eliza's spurs extended away from her arms, and she raised her fists. Sriracha's wrists flared hot.

A sharp bang jolted a dozen morph heads away from the fight as the double doors of the main corridor slammed open.

"I know I've been away for a couple days," called out the human now entering the lounge, "but I don't remember this being the training grounds."

Alisha.

Salem's ears perked and her tail quivered as her current favourite human returned. And a day early! This was wonderful!

Eliza retracted her spurs and stepped smartly back, eyes raised to stare at the wall somewhere above Sriracha's head. Sriracha crossed his arms and let his wrists smoulder against his shirt. Alisha strode forwards, waving her hands at the morphs in loose pokésign to break up the circle. She sighed as she addressed the would-be combatants.

"Honestly, you two. Whatever it is you're bickering about can go to your counsellors, and if you must beat each other up, you ought to be doing it with supervision. Mike's on duty in the gym. Now, do you really want to fight?"

Sriracha nodded like his head was about to come off. Eliza didn't reply, still staring.

"Right, well, go to your dorms and cool your heads, and if you still want to punch each other, you go find Mike and get him to referee it. Understand?"

Sriracha bobbed his head. Eliza hesitated, then gave a terse, "Yes, Alisha."

"Right. Clear off then. You'd have upset yourselves if you'd trashed your own lounge, huh? Yeah, I thought so. I'll see you two later."

Eliza turned sharply on her heels and walked directly away. Sriracha took a moment longer, but then left in the opposite direction. Alisha brushed a lock of hair to the side and shook her head.

"Ex-League 'mon, huh," she muttered. "Mew's marbles, what a pain."

Salem poured herself off the couch and padded around to Alisha's side.

"Heya," she said, waving and smiling. "Was your thing good?"

"Mm?" Alisha turned to her, and chuckled. "Oh, hey there," [Hello, Pickpocket!] "Yeah, it was a good trip. You'll have a few morphs junior to you a month from now. What's up?"

Salem glanced to Dusk, who nodded encouragingly and came to join her.

"My old human," Salem began, not having rehearsed for this. "Laura. I'm thinking about her. I want to see her; I want to talk to her."

She groaned at frustration at her ever-clumsy words, and tried to get to the heart of it.

"Alisha… Please, help me?"

Alisha raised a hand and pressed its knuckles to her lips. She looked thoughtful. That could mean help was coming. Or disappointment.

"Most morphs have no interest in contacting anyone from their old life," mused Alisha. "It's… Well, it's not something I've been asked to handle, before."

Dusk cleared her throat.

"You promised me something about my old life before I was Changed," she said, quietly, in a tone of voice Salem hadn't heard from her before. "This is what Salem would ask, if she could ask first. I don't think it will be very hard to find this human. It is not a big thing to ask for. You should agree to do this."

Alisha considered this further, with her head tipped and her gaze askew.

Salem dug her claws into her palm. Maybe, if Alisha said no, Salem could just insist, the way she had with the nurses.

At last, Alisha threw up her hand and nodded. "I'll look into it," she said. "But I can't promise I'll find her, or that I can do much besides that. These things are tricky. We try very hard to keep you safe, you know. Not to attract attention from dangerous sorts. But look… At the very least, I can say I'll try my best."

For a moment, Salem was weightless. Aloft, and full of brightness. She forgot how to speak and sign. She panicked for a second, then she put her head forward and pressed it against Alisha's hand.

The human laughed, and patted her on the shoulder. "Okay, yeah, you're welcome. Sure thing. Laura, right?"

Salem nodded in confirmation.

"Okay, that's a start. What else can you tell me about her?"

Salem did her best to supply information, with the occasional clarifying comment from Dusk, who'd figured out what parts of Galarish were hard for her. Laura, an only child of a snow-blanketed city home to many snom and frosmoth. Gone to university somewhere Salem couldn't follow. Dark hair, pale skin, green eyes to match Salem's.

"I'll try and look her up when I have a free minute," agreed Alisha, fiddling with the cuff of her dress shirt, "and see about getting you in touch. Take care, you two." Then, in sign, [Goodbye, little Pickpocket. Bye, Setting Sun.]

Salem stood and watched Alisha leave. Her fingers on one hand twitched to the beat of the seconds going by, as if by counting them, she'd somehow hasten Alisha's return. Would she actually find Laura? Would Laura want to see Salem again? Her breath caught. Was Laura even okay?

"Hey."

She looked around at Dusk, and signed a small thanks to her, with a sheepish smile. The sneasel laughed.

"Nice one. Now stop worrying about it. If we are fast, maybe we can go to the coliseum in time to see Eliza beat up Sauce. Would you like that?"

Salem had run out of words for the morning, so she just raised both hands, thumbs sticking up. [Strong approval,] that meant. A good sign.

Dusk grinned.

"Race you there?"

A race? Sure! Salem accepted by stealing a head start, running right past Dusk in the direction of the coliseum, her laughing friend close behind.
 
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Chibi Pika

Stay positive
Staff
Location
somewhere in spacetime
Pronouns
they/them
Partners
  1. pikachu-chibi
  2. lugia
  3. palkia
  4. lucario-shiny
  5. incineroar-starr
chapter 5 is finallyyyy heeerrrrreee

I appreciate how many characterful moments were jam-packed into this! I know that stitching all this material together was a real pain in the ass, but it all flows smoothly from one scene to the next, with threads linking one to the other, so none of the scenes feel out of place.

Dusk vs Salem was fun and it was great to see Salem getting more comfortable with moving around in a humanoid body.

I enjoyed how quick and snappy the Veracity vs Srirasha fight was. And it wasn't as if Sriracha was being totally dense and just pressing A to do Super Effective moves. He has the good sense to set up first! Endure+Reversal is a fun counterplay, and I liked how you had Whiskey calling the moves for the audience's (and the reader's) benefit.

Sriracha is a himbo and I want to protect him.

Good to see the reminders of Laura throughout! Keeps her fresh in the reader's mind and makes it easy to remember that she's going to be an important recurring part of this story.

Some line comments:

Salem wailed softly into her pillow. Human sleep schedules were an insult to good sense, and her hybrid brain did not seem to have picked up their predilection for diurnal living. Crepuscular, crepuscular, that's what she was. She rolled the word around in her mouth. Yes, she was a creature of long sleeps and twilight hours.
I'm with Salem on this one.

Dusk laughed. "Pokémon love to fight! Didn't you want to be a League fighter with your Laura? Don't you want to see what morphs are capable of in a battle?"

"No," lied Salem. "I want to only sleep."

"I'll give you my croissants if you come to training with me."

That, tragically, was too powerful an incentive.
I love how even while every fiber of Salem's being wants to stay in bed, she's still lying when she says she doesn't want to go to training. So at least some part of her wanted to go. ;P (And aaaa she did want to be a League fighter with Laura!)

'Southpaw,' Dusk had called her at the start. Her opponent was always moving to her left, Salem realised. That way, Dusk kept making it harder for Salem to swing with any force with her stronger left paw. It was obvious. Anger flooded into her head. Stupid! She'd missed it! But she could use this.
Maybe I'm not visualizing this right, but does being on someone's dominant side really make you harder to hit? Maybe it depends on fighting style...

"It's a good thing hybrids are almost as tough as pokémon," someone was saying, in a voice that sounded almost human but for a soft, insistent reverberation, like an echo in the skull.
Indeed! I'm sure morphs keeping their Pokemon healing factor will be crucial later on.

Dusk excused them both from the lesson, and Whiskey waved them away. Only when there was a closed door between Salem and Veracity did her appetite return.
Nice callback to Unnerve every to Veracity is onscreen, it feels very natural.

"Why don't you like me?" he asked, earnestly. "I'm very cool. Everyone likes me."
I like you, Sriracha. ;-;

"I was a League sweeper! The best!" [I could knock you out, easily! I'm warning you!] "I'm not stupid! You're stupid!"
I like the way his signing is interspersed with the spoken words.

"Right, well, go to your dorms and cool your heads, and if you still want to punch each other, you go find Mike and get him to referee it. Understand?"
This is such an appropriate response for someone used to dealing with near-Pokemon, lol. Not discouraging violence, just making sure the violence happens properly, lmao.
 

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
Blitzy New Year!
Disclaimer: This is mostly stream-of-consciousness thoughts. Take it as you will.

I don’t think I ever looked at the reimagined/current version of this. The prologue art alone makes me think this’ll be a different experience.

Prologue
-Right off the bat, this is an interesting mixing of Pokespec and anime origins for Mewtwo. The manga actually had Mewtwo being a mix of mew and human DNA, though I believe the human DNA came from Blaine. The mention of a scientific threshold also brings to mind Ray Kurzeil’s The Singularity is Near.
-Giovanni presented here with his typical cold and calculating, business-first persona. Still has his love for his Persian, though I bet the cat enthusiast in you would never exclude it. :P
-Nifty that the failed original clones turn out to be ditto. Probably the first cases of them in this fic’s universe, too.
-Interesting choice to have Giovanni be the human genetic material donor for Mewtwo. If one leads into the nature side of the “nature vs. nurture” debate, then it could explain Mewtwo’s personality to some extent. It’d be encoded in their genes.
-Oh, huh, I was thinking Katsura was some sort of OC, but it was actually Blaine! I agree with canis’ (old) take that mixing his French and Japanese names is a bit… unusual. Unless you’re trying to give us the implication he, like, legally changed his first name after living in Kalos for a time. I do like how he proposes a bait-and-switch. I find it a clever way to tie it into the manga. And it presents the whole giant ethical wrinkle that isn’t in any of the canons surrounding Mewtwo’s creation.

1
-I can’t help but wonder why/how Salem woke up in the tank. I’m not referring to the events leading up to it, but rather the tank’s equipment. I would assume that this incubation process would anesthetize and/or sedate the patient to prevent them from waking up and freaking out over their predicament. It almost feels like Salem waking up is something that happened by accident. Like someone coming out of anesthesia on the operating table.
-Dusk’s introduction scene does a good job establishing her uncertainty surrounding her no body and going through this process in the first place. And I think it was a good idea to introduce the transformed Salem through Dusk’s eyes. It flowed well; didn’t feel like the piece had grinded to a halt to describe everything, since Dusk was already exploring the room. (Though I can’t help but wonder if this is something the facility was even allowing or if Alisha was in full “Screw the rules!” mode. I imagine the tank area has cameras.)
-The remainder of the chapter from Salem’s perspective did strike me as a tad bit redundant when she was focusing on her new body, since we’d pretty much seen something similar from Dusk’s perspective. Though her take on it is different, which I suppose was the point. I do still find it a bit hard to believe she’s doing this stuff in the tank because of what I said earlier. Her thoughts are remarkably cohesive for someone who’s likely been given medications to remain sedated. And I think some of her actions, if they are as painful as the prose describes, would alter her vital signs in a way that’d concern the scientists. But at the end of the day, it’s your fic, so I’ll just say it’s magitek and move along. XD

2
-I personally don’t feel you need to label the POV characters at the start of scenes and should instead try to establish that in the prose itself, but that’s just me.
-Like how the first scene shows Dusk having good intentions, like a family member waiting for you in the PACU when you’re brought into recovery from surgery, but then the next scene shows Salem being completely out of whack, affirming that Alisha was doing the right thing keeping Dusk away. She might’ve put Salem into information overload. That said, Salem’s grogginess and confusion at everything is much more in line with what I’d have expected from her with waking up in the tank. Including the panic translating into difficulty breathing. alternatively: manual breathing mode activated.
-The weakness Salem experiences is also fairly realistic. I’m sure the “getting her strength back” owes more to the pokémon side, because we humans don’t bounce back like that. Alisha’s mention of people helping teach her brings physical and occupational therapy to mind. Especially the initial struggle for her to even stand. As heart-wrenching as it is, it’s realistic.
-So, is Salem putting random things the staff left out in her pockets a bit of purrloin instinct kicking in for her? I like to think that’s the case.
-I appreciate the explanation for how Salem picks up her therapy exercises so quickly, even if it is as simple as “side effect of morphing.”
-I think the original draft of this took place in Unova. Is that still the case or have we moved to Galar? There are plenty of mentions of Galarish as the English substitute and Salem gets a map of Galar.
-Aww, I’m pretty sure there are real life versions of “learning the alphabet with pokémon.” It’s cute to see that here, too.

3
-Cute to see the ending of the last part from Salem’s perspective. And it’s short enough not to feel redundant. And lol, Salem’s still a bit protective of Laura. More old instincts, perhaps?
-If I’m reading this right, it sounds like Dusk came from the Crown Tundra? So, this would be in Galar, then.
-Eliza is a… trans Gallade, I think? In which case, perhaps her transition was part of her morphing process? I guess the alternative is she started a gardevoir but wanted to be a gallade and the morphing made that possible. Either option is interesting.
-Admittedly the introduction of other morphs is incredibly rapid-fire and I kind of don’t expect to remember any of them until they have proper interactions with Salem. I guess this means she’s smarter than me, ha ha.
-Dusk trying her darndest to show 20 charisma on this tour and I think Salem’s eating it up like she’s eating those meatballs. XD
-Veracity’s proper introduction is suitably menacing (insert Jojoke here). I do think she’s onto something about Salem lying, because I think the piece has hinted at some repeated doubts Salem’s had with regards to seeing Laura again. She just does so in such a blunt and brash manner, it’s hurtful and not helpful. At least it seems to get Salem to admit to Dusk her desire to see Lauren again. Dusk’s comment about a lack of contact with the outside gives me some ominous vibes. Perihelion must have a lot of funding to be able to afford to do something like this, but how are they turning any sort of profit? Surely, there’s a purpose behind this project that the morphs (and readers) are unaware of. Wonder if it ties back to the prologue at all?

4
-So, if this is Galar, is the schooling system based on the UK’s? I believe “college” for the UK is more like what Americans consider “high school,” since we use “college” and “university” interchangeably to mean higher education.
-Otherwise, I believe some of this early stuff about Salem and Laura’s routine was present in the version I had read? At least, I seem to remember references to the anime and Team Rocket’s meowth.
-Quick Wiki search tells me A-levels are basically subject-specific secondary school examinations. Not sure there’s an apt comparison in American education, but this does confirm for me Laura is pre-university. Gordon saying Macro Cosmos “used to” and mentioning Rose sponsorships don’t exist anymore makes me wonder if this is a post-SwSh Galar. Which makes me wonder what these morphs would think of a ‘mon like Silvally, since canonically some Galarian outfit stole Aether’s research data and produced multiple units which you can find running around the Battle Tower.
-There’s definitely more tension behind Laura going to university than I remember. And, of course, the mentions of Mewtwo are quite different. The fictional tale has some similarities to Salem’s current situation, which makes me feel like they’re being set up to meet at some point.

5
-I love the ironic twist of Salem going from being the one to nudge Laura awake and into groggily getting dressed to getting nudged awake. I guess morph Salem isn’t a morning person? XD
-It seems like Salem gets a bit of a thrill the more she’s able to spar with Dusk. Perhaps that’s a feeling she’d have gotten if she had gone on the league circuit with Laura?
-Fs out for Sriracha. He does strike me as the type who just charges in without a plan and gets his ass kicked for it. I do find the fact that he was on the league circuit to be interesting. Seems to have instilled him with a bit of that “dumb jock” mentality, if anything. It also reminds me of the kids who, like, peaked in high school and keep trying to hang onto/relive those glory years. A bit depressing, yeah, and it makes me feel for the guy.
-Alisha sounds genuine enough in replying to Salem’s request, but “Laura” is such a common name I can imagine her having trouble digging that information up. a super psychic like Mewtwo could probably do it, though. This is, of course, assuming Alisha wasn’t simply saying what Salem wanted to hear and has no intentions of carrying this out due to, like, company policy or something.

Overall, I’d say your hard work on this new version is paying off. I’m personally a bit iffy on some of the medical stuff from the transformation, but that’s the M.D. in me. It should work well for other readers.

Tl;dr: Cat/10. 😸
 

Shiny Phantump

Through Dream, I Travel
Location
Hallownest
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon
  2. absol-mega
  3. silvally-psychic
  4. ninetales-phantump
  5. cosmog
  6. gallade-phantump
  7. ceruledge-phantump
I know I helped beta chapter 5, but it wasn't quite finished yet and I have more thoughts. And some of the other thoughts from before for posterity

I like the fight between Salem and Dusk, which is pretty notable because I almost never like fights. It's almost a rule that I get bored and skim over them. There are no wasted words in their match, though. That really helps it, in my book, to flow smoothly without overstaying its welcome.

Sriracha is lovely I adore him. He's a fucking dumbass. Kick his ass. I still adore him.

Eliza is also lovely, I hope to see more of her. I'm curious to see what would happen if she fought Veracity. My gut tells me she's clever, I wonder if she could take out the jerkass bird. I hope she can.

It seems morph education camp is no different from a school in that there's always That Person. Here, our version of That Person is Veracity. I get why Whiskey likes her, she's a good student, just... I think there's a really interesting comparison to be drawn between her and Sriracha. I would say the difference between them is that Sriracha has fallen from his grace, but Veracity is actually capable of beating the shit out of people for the benefit of her ego. It leaves Sriracha feeling kinda goofy, and as a sympathetic character in some sense because of course he wants to still be good at things like he was before. Then Veracity feels more insufferable because I wanna see someone knock her around like Sriracha. I wonder if I'd find myself endeared to her when/if that happens...
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
"What are we trying today?" she asked, sing-song.

Salem had an answer prepared this time.

"Teach me how to fight," she said, eyes dilating. Her first few days of training had been heavy on stretches, exercises, and obstacle courses. Her only literal 'fight' since stepping in her tank had been the snowball fight a few days back. But dummies that never fought back were boring; she felt ready for more.
So to me kind of everything before this had Salem acting very tired and reluctant, so her excitement here felt kind of sudden. I think there could be a bit of honest self-hyping on her part before this to show she's actually interested and motivated.

Dusk's eyes flashed, then her claws. Her next attack was instantaneous, powerful, and impossible to block.

Someone – herself? Salem wasn't sure – cried out. She staggered back, clutching at her own neck.

"Salem! I didn't mean—"

A tumble backward; a flinch as her head hit floor. The ceiling and its many bright lights. There were so few shadows in the gym. There was metal-scent in the air, and wetness on her fur. Her head rang.

She mumbled something unclear. She didn't feel much of anything, not yet, but she had the vague notion that very soon she would be in a great deal of pain.
Chapter 5: Salem Fucking Dies

There was a metallic shearing sound as Veracity raised her wing.
How much of a wing is it at this point if it has a hand? Is it like a velociraptor arm?

including bothphysical attacks
missing space

Salem hardly followed the movements of the absol's body. He stepped to one side, took hold of Veracity's arm, and pulled her forward. In an instant, the corviknight was hurtling over Whiskey's back, arms akimbo, and then with a decisive lunge he had her pressed to the ground in a sprawl. He paused long enough to make his control of the situation clear, then stepped smartly back to allow Veracity to rise to her feet.
I have to be honest, I couldn't understand what happened here at all. Couldn't visualize it.

"Reversal," announced Whiskey. "A move that grows in strength the closer the user is to fainting. Excellent technique." Then, after a few seconds, "Sriracha can no longer battle. Veracity wins."
fucking lucario mains

His wattles jiggled when he jolted his head this way and that, which he did constantly.
oh fuck this game got wattle physics

"Not liking myself would be bad," he said, as if discussing today's lunch options. "I'm very good at fighting, and that's good. I'm good."
actually fucking based what a king

"Don't worry, Purrloin! You will get good at fighting very fast, faster than you think. And then you won't be hurt as easy or as bad! Good luck!"
sriracha my beloved

"He's an idiot," replied Dusk, not looking up from her food. "I don't like that. Being an idiot gets people killed."
i dont like you anymore dusk

As the pair finished their food, the skitty-morph, Heather, pushed the canteen doors open and dashed several feet forward, clutching her tail. The doors had swung shut on it the day before when she'd become distracted on her way in, Salem recalled.
tom and jerry scream

"Yes but someone might be shy, and they can use the box! Anyway, it helps to have your ask written down so nobody will forget it. Right?"
so its okay to be shy but not an idiot uh huh uh huh

The mightyena, Bramble, deemed it "official" and "human" and therefore inexplicable and best avoided, and several morphs followed his lead.
openly humanphobic, gets morphed anyway

"I don't like you! And I don't like the things you say! I'm right and you're bad!"
I AM BASED AND YOU ARE CRINGE

A sharp bang jolted a dozen morph heads away from the fight as the double doors of the main corridor slammed open.
GUNSHOT

For a moment, Salem was weightless. Aloft, and full of brightness. She forgot how to speak and sign. She panicked for a second, then she put her head forward and pressed it against Alisha's hand.
fucking furry

I don't really have any general thoughts to give for this chapter - it's probably because I'm personally very uninterested in combat and battles, but I can see someone more interested in those getting more out of the fighting here. I did also have to detach myself a bit since the gym class vibes were bringing back some bad memories.

Anyway I love Sriracha, a very nice cock
 

slamdunkrai

bing.com
Pronouns
they/them
Partners
  1. darkrai
  2. snom
Hello! I'm here to tell you how much I enjoyed chapters four and five of this one, which I had wanted to get read later in Blitz and then sadly became busy -- but, happily, I still get to talk about them anyway. They're really good! I appreciate the balance you strike here: we're still in the stage of the story where Salem is getting into the swing of her new life and getting to know her fellow morphs alongside us, and I think you manage to show this really organically in chapter five, but you do a good job of making it not feel monotonous by a) showing clear examples of Salem adjusting to things in real time (chapter five functioning as our introduction to the world of morph battling, which ties in nicely to Salem's own efforts in getting used to her new body) and crucially, b) putting chapter four in there both to break things up by giving us context for who she was before she became a morph.

I think chapter four works as well as it does precisely because it unravels that sense that makes the present-day chapters work so well: that complicated sense of joy in learning to live purposefully within your skin. Specifically, we get to see the complications there: while purrloin!Salem doesn't quite view the world in the same way as humans, meaning that she's adorably a little misguided in her understanding of human life (e.g. "if she were a human, she would never have had to endure winter rain and winter cold and winter darkness" -- I love that her justification for this is "because I'd have a home or money", because ideally that'd be the case but, y'know, capitalism and the like), she's still not wrong in feeling that things could be much better for her and Laura. Sure, she's a cat, she doesn't quite get the financial and familial woes that hamstring Laura (though in the case of the latter, she's all too aware of them, because cats are clever!), but she knows that her human friend is the subject of some dreadfully unfair circumstances, and she knows this because this'll separate them... heck, it's already separating them by the time she figures this out. And more importantly once Laura leaves, she knows that she isn't being treated right by Laura's parents, and she's aware that this is in large part because she's a pokémon who does not really hold much agency here. She can't make them look after her as they should, as hard as she may try; she can't make them listen, nor can she express her feelings in ways they'd understand. Without her friend to look after her, it's a rough world for a cat like her. :(

Anyway, that about sums up my feelings on these chapters in the macro sense. I'm curious to see where things are headed, and as you say in the chapter notes, I am ready and very eager for some more plot. Great setup has been done here; I wanna see where it goes, especially with the tantalising little hints of Mewtwo and Laura and whatever the deal is with the facilities that host the morphs! Onto the line-by-lines:

She waited, and wished that she was a student there too, so she could stay with her human friend. She wished every day after, for so long that she began to think of herself as pre-human: only a pokémon while she waited for the day she evolved.

She would become human when she evolved, she knew. It was destined.
Love this!
Salem jumped up on the stand by the door, like always, to receive scratches behind her ears, like always.
Adorable image, though I think the double "like always" disrupted the flow here a little.
Now you're saying that was bullshit—"

"Language, Laura!"

Gordon thumped the sofa.
Ah, yes; you can't say bad words but you can attack with the furniture. I love the weird customs of British politeness. :)
most prominently an alakazam wearing fur dye and other cosmetics in the role of 'Mewtwo', a powerful and intelligent pokémon with a tragic past.
I appreciate the hints at Mewtwo we're getting after the prologue! I also gotta say I'd unashamedly watch the hell out of this movie.
[TRAINER!] Salem signed again, harder this time. Her tail thrashed anxiously.
:(
[I COME WITH YOU?] – not difficult to sign, but difficult for her to ask with her hopes so recently discarded.
:(((
She was weightless, tireless, limitless!

She knocked a jabbing arm to the side and caught Dusk on the throat.

Dusk's eyes flashed, then her claws. Her next attack was instantaneous, powerful, and impossible to block.

Someone – herself? Salem wasn't sure – cried out. She staggered back, clutching at her own neck.
Oh noooo haha, it's very feline to get a little too excited and lose control of her limbs but very unfortunate that this is what happens as a result
"Hands are capable of countless uses on their own," continued Whiskey, "including bothphysical attacks and signing, along with channelling elemental energy. They are also capable of using the many tools of humanity, designed to be held in human hands."

"Why don't you like me?" he asked, earnestly. "I'm very cool. Everyone likes me."
I like you, Sauce. Absolute goober; he's not the sharpest tool in the box, but he seems to mean well and he's certainly got a personality.
"Not liking myself would be bad," he said, as if discussing today's lunch options. "I'm very good at fighting, and that's good. I'm good."
Self-esteem goals, frankly.
Salem's heart jumped. She used to watch League fights with Laura, back home. Her heart had jumped then, like she'd been part of the battles just by seeing them.
A nice callback, enhanced by chapter four!
A race? Sure! Salem accepted by stealing a head start, running right past Dusk in the direction of the coliseum, her laughing friend close behind.
As was said earlier, one of those instances where she's really noticeably getting more comfortable and coordinated with her body. Good stuff! A good contrast with the elbowing incident from earlier.

Thanks for doing this review exchange with me; I'm really enjoying my time with this fic so far, and I'm happy I got the excuse to go and read more of it. Cheers for writing it, and I'm looking forward to whatever's in store for these very colourful characters!

(EDIT: wow, I somehow called Laura "Sarah" five different times in this review! I'm not sure how this happened; my bad! ^^")
 
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SparklingEspeon

Back on Her Bullshit
Staff
Location
a Terrace of Indeterminate Location in Snowbelle
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. espurr
  2. fennekin
  3. zoroark
Alrighty! This is for the BLEC review awards, covering Chapter Five while it’s still fresh in my head. Only had one chapter rather than the 3 – 4 I usually like to do, so this’ll be a bit shorter than my usual faire. Sorry for that :/

The chapters before this seemed mainly to be setup and exposition; now that we’re out of the background phase, we seem to have advanced to the beginnings of inter-character drama. And it looks like front and center of this chapter’s conflict is Sriracha.

He’s… interesting. I guess I expected more of an obnoxious type jock character from what’s been said about him, but he seems a lot more akin to, as I said in the discord, a floppy rubber chicken :v He seems to be one of the ones who hasn’t exactly taken to the new mental faculties he’s been given. Not sure what’s up with that, though I suspect it might be because he just doesn’t care to learn. I feel kind of bad for him—he’s like a big bird puppy, and then people like Dusk are mean to him and he just doesn’t understand why.

I liked Whiskey’s teaching session! For the Drill Instructor he was played up to be by Dusk, he seems like a surprisingly chill and competent teacher. Reminds me of some of my better college professors, which means A+ for execution in my book. He does seem very… gung ho about human weapons though…

I’ll admit I’m not entirely sure what to make about the aborted fight scene near the end of the chapter. I mean yes, we can’t have them tearing up the common room, but it also felt like Setup For Later, basically. It might just be me having not picked this up in like, a year, but I also had a bit of trouble telling that Eliza was a gallade morph. There’s only one mention of it in the prose that I caught, and she hasn’t exactly been a central character thus far. I think it might be worth more blatantly signalling what she is, if she was one of those morphs introduced in the background like the skitty one was.

Salem and Dusk fighting was an interesting segment—helped highlighted that even though they aren’t as prone to being hurt as humans are, they’re not full-blown pokemon anymore. They have to follow different rules. I can also commend you for having a fight scene that’s pleasing to read. The average action scene just makes me want to skim, even more so if it’s a sparring match, but this avoided that problem completely. I think it’s the prose. One of the things that you highlighted a lot about this fic was the eventual drama between Dusk and Salem, but for now they seem to be pretty tight with each other. It'll be interesting to see what can make them eventually fall out, since they seem to be in a similar position to say, Harry and Ron in their first days at Hogwarts.

Overall, good read! Some plot happened here, mainly involving Sriracha, but it still feels like we’re just starting. I imagine I’ll need a couple chapters to get a proper sense of where this is really going, along with seeing how Salem’s attempt to contact her Human plays out. Seems like a veerrry interesting thread to pull on…

~SparklingEspeon
 

NebulaDreams

Ace Trainer
Partners
  1. luxray
  2. hypno
Hey, Cat! The time for me to check out Different Eyes has been long long long long long long long overdue, especially since a few people have recommended it to me in the past before. I started reading the prologue a while back then dropped off for whatever reason. Reading Rookidee gave me the kick in the pants I needed to read what you have so far, and I'm really glad I did.

It's honestly hard for me to give a proper critique because this hits all my buttons and everything just works. The characters, the worldbuilding, the scale of the story, the atmosphere it has, all of it has the makings of a fantastic Pokemon fanfic. I'll get into chapter by chapter thoughts (mixed in with some of my liveblogging you've seen in the DMs before) then my overall thoughts below that.

Prologue

The prologue is a good start, but in retrospect, it felt a little weaker than the rest of the chapters, though that's not necessarily a criticism. It appropriately sets the tone for the rest of the story, plants the seeds for what Pokemorphing involves and what's at risk if the technology gets into the wrong hands. It doesn't feel too jarring when it cuts back to present day as a result (even with the shift of POV characters since we might not see Fuji again for a while), which is usually my gripe with prologues but isn't the case here. Even though quite a bit of it was exposition, there was a lot of tension between Fuji and Giovanni that made everything in it feel impactful, especially from Fuji's POV because of his personal stake in the matter and how much he regrets his decisions.

However, this opening also felt a bit like standard Pokemon fic fare with Giovanni and Mewtwo and all that, which gave me the impression that the story would be heavily involved with the canon characters. It's just something that might've put me off at first for preferential reasons.

Chapter 1

So, the prologue is good, but when the Pokemorph stuff starts, that's when it goes from good to outstanding. I love Dusk and Salem even though Dusk's introduction was brief and Salem hasn't even been born yet. There’s something really wholesome about Dusk's interactions with the human staff as well, especially with how well the language barrier between them is written. I’m impressed by the Salem segment in particular. Not a lot happened in it from a plot standpoint, but it’s just so intriguing reading about Salem’s thoughts as she’s developing in the tank, and the minutiae of it all really adds to that feeling of ‘oh shit, I’m becoming a person now, how exciting and terrifying is that?’ Also impressed by how you managed to convey her past with Laura without using flashbacks, just implications.

Chapter 2

“She made a sign with one finger that he’d definitely understand”

LMAO

Sneasel typically gave gifts of choice meat cuts, carved tools, or beautiful stones.

Why do I imagine a Sneasel running some artisanal kitchenware stall with these items on display? But this is a really cute worldbuilding detail, jokes aside.

“The thought was strange, that her eyes were different now.”

image0.jpg


Making the little dot of light swim around the room provided considerable entertainment.

Just waiting for the moment when some poor lecturer shines a laser pointer and Salem wrecks shit up during class

Everything about this chapter was freaking adorable without being too fluffy since this all has a purpose. Again, I'm impressed by your ability to take something that would be considered mundane and boring to most people and turn it into something that really means a lot to the protagonist and endears her. Just the sheer joy she takes from finding magazine pages and pinning them to the walls was contagious. Ironically, by focusing on such a small scale story at the beginning where Salem gradually develops a sense of personhood, it makes the rest of the story to come and the progression from there feel much bigger and more significant as a result.

Chapter 3

I don't have too many thoughts about chapter 3 except that it sets up Perihelion's facility quite nicely and introduces us to a lot of the other Pokemorphs.

Chapter 4

Salem wolfed down her salmon while Laura toasted and buttered herself some crumpets.

Laura's definitely Gala'ish.

"Swearing doesn't mean I'm wrong! We had a whole sit-down conversation about how long to wait to do a circuit, and I did what you said I should do 'cause you promised it would work out. Now you're saying that was bullshit—"

"Language, Laura!"

Wow, I love her parents already.

"This isn't a discussion, there isn't going to be a discussion."

"—always agreed I'd be able to, that's why I've worked so hard, and now you're telling me that— "

"Just calm down, you're hysterical. There's no need for that behaviour!"

No different overall, but perhaps a little more intense than usual.

"—will you just listen to me, let me finish just one—"

"We've listened. We have listened. You're not listening."

"—see, you're interrupting, like you always—"

"You're the one who isn't listening. You won't stop and listen."

Yuuuuuup. Definitely feeling the love here.

Replica Heart was a live-action film with real pokémon actors, most prominently an alakazam wearing fur dye and other cosmetics in the role of 'Mewtwo', a powerful and intelligent pokémon with a tragic past. It didn't feature any purrloin, but there was a torracat with gorgeous fur sheen and really excellent pokésign at one point, which was something. Salem liked her.

Can we get a one-shot from you that solely focuses on Pokemon actors in this world? I need to see more of them, and it'd also be interesting to know if they're common in the acting world.

Normally, Salem would have lain down by the laptop's fan for warmth, or batted playfully at Laura's fingers, or walked in front of the screen for attention.

But…

'Leave me alone,' Laura had said.

She had never said that before.

So Salem left her alone.

Ouch.

One thing I have to remark about your chapters is that even though they're quite long, they never feel long at all since it all flows so well. I am so invested in this world and these characters, and even though it takes a step back to focus on this flashback chapter, it doesn't interrupt the pacing at all. It provides a lot of good answers to questions raised in previous chapters, such as what happened with Laura, what Salem was like before the transformation, and the start of what led her past this point of no return.

Poor Salem. You've really nailed that xenofiction angle here, where the protagonist is intelligent and wants to be human, but her priorities, values and mannerisms are also very distinct from humans. Of course, this made for some compelling drama when Laura talks about needing to go to uni and Salem just isn't having it. Both sides are sympathetic, particularly Laura since that feeling of leaving old dreams behind by the wishes of your parents is something a lot of people here can probably relate to. I also like that her parents weren't evil or cartoonishly abusive, but still doesn't connect with Laura or understand her worries. And of course, while Salem is in a comfortable spot and Laura's parents provide for her, they do the bare minimum and neglect her mental worries, so it's completely justifiable when Salem leaves to venture on her own.

Chapter 5

"Get the fuck up, everyone! It's another wonderful training day!"

What a banger of an opening line.

"I'll give you my croissants if you come to training with me."

That, tragically, was too powerful an incentive.

Goddamn Kalosans and their sumptuous pastries...

"Claws?" called out Sriracha.

Whiskey squinted wearily at the blaziken. "Claws? What? No. Bad answer.

I can already tell that I'm gonna like Sriracha.

She continued to sulk towards her plate, until the silence was broken not by Dusk, but by Sriracha.

"Hello, ladies!" he said, sitting down opposite them with much clicking of claws on the tiled floor.

Smoooooooth, my saucy Sriracha.

"Why are you so mean to him?" asked Salem, out of pure curiosity.

"He's an idiot," replied Dusk, not looking up from her food. "I don't like that. Being an idiot gets people killed."

:copyka:

"I was a League sweeper! The best!" [I could knock you out, easily! I'm warning you!] "I'm not stupid! You're stupid!"

Sriracha really just went 'NO U'.

Glad to see more of the personalities of the side characters shine here, particularly Sriracha, who is a complete doofus but a loveable, spicy himbo chicken all the same. And of course, that fight between Salem and Dusk at the beginning was just *chefs kiss*. You can really feel the excitement of these two half-Pokemon and why battling is a part of their needs, and it was also exciting to see how it progressed from roughhousing to getting carried away, resulting in both of them losing control. It's a good moment since it hints at the potential risks behind battling without going too far, and I expect that this will play a much bigger part between these two later on.

--

Okay, so back to my general thoughts.

Hard to believe this is also my first Pokemorph fic! The concept of Pokemorphs doesn't appeal to me as much as focusing on regular Pokemon (a part of that is also down to my perception since the Pokemorph genre tends to connote an edgier take on the series), but you did a terrific job at getting me hooked on them, and also giving narrative importance to how much of a scientific leap it is for people to create Pokemon-human hybrids. While it shows the consequences of being stuck in a half-human body and all the physical therapy it takes to get to grips with that, something I REALLY appreciated is how much the fic focuses on the joy of being given the body you want and putting in the work so it feels like the best fit for that person. It doesn't dwell too much on the negatives while not glossing over the implications, and that element of cautious optimism is something that sticks out to me about this fic.

The worldbuilding as a whole also feels so rich. Despite how confined the settings feel and how steady the pacing is, you've given me a great sense that a world exists out of the confines of Salem's story, with the financial politics of the League system, the snippets provided about this world's entertainment, the mix of different personalities and backstories from the Pokemorphs we see, the rituals that Sneasels like Dusk have, how Pokemon are written in general, etc. It all feels so alive, and scratches that itch in a way that I can't easily get out of Pokemon fics, where both humans and Pokemon feel like they have deep cultures with different needs.

I also like the subtle nods and meta references to Pokemon canon, despite my expressed disinterest in canon characters. To this fic's credit, it made me forget that this takes place in the canon of the mainline games with how most of the narrative is built from the ground up. And to an even bigger extent, it made me forget I was reading fanfiction at points since everything was so well constructed, and its originality and execution of the premise is where it truly shines while still harnessing the essence of Pokemon.

Anyway, so stoked to see the rest of the fic when it's ready. This is a really impressive start and it was criminal of me to take so long to get to it.
 
Chapter 6: Longest Night

unrepentantAuthor

A cat that writes stories.
Location
UK
Pronouns
they/she
Partners
  1. purrloin-salem
  2. sneasel-dusk
  3. luz-companion
  4. brisa-companion
  5. meowth-laura
  6. delphox-jesse
  7. mewtwo
  8. zeraora
Author's Note:

Sorry about the absurd delay on this one. I promise, I’m never giving up on this fic, and still have a substantial amount pre-written and planned, it’s just that my life has been too hectic to prioritise a passion project like this lately. I’m fine, and my support network is strong, I’ve much less to deal with of late, and I’m getting long-awaited medical care I sorely need, so hopefully my rate of progress will improve~

I hope you guys like POV-switching, ‘cause it’s time to show off what normal human-pokémon relations are like. I’ve been excited to post this one for a while and could get very carried away talking about the creative process for it, so instead I’ll just say that I’m glad Laura’s in the fic and leave it at that.

Chapter-specific CWs:

Depressive/anxious POV.

Chapter Changelog:

N/A

7616d93c6ec93b436ad66633aa8820ccf445bfc5.pnj


Chapter 6

Longest Night


The thing about trying to get sleep on a train was how easily you got woken up again. Ticket inspectors, obnoxious passengers, the juddering of the window against your skull if your head tilted the wrong way. This time it was an alert on her phone. A press expanded her notifications to reveal a text from Mum hassling her for updates, worthless emails marketing last-minute Longest Night gifts…

No new replies in any of her DMs.

Figures.

She tapped out a quick reply: Gonna walk home, no need to pick me up at the station, won’t be hungry for anything. Thanks. A little ‘x’ to appease Mum’s demand for affection while avoiding an actual ‘I love you’.

She stared at her messaging app for a minute, as if she could generate a new message from the aether. Nothing.

Laura Weir, human, was nineteen years old when she had already lost most of the friends she would ever make. She’d definitely meet new people – if only through classes and a career – but she’d already hit Peak Friend and it would be a falling trend from here.

After all, she was a fuck-up.

A pool of sick heat stirred in her guts. She got that same acid feeling with every stern voicemail from her dad, every shit grade for a piece of coursework, every time her classmates failed to notice she existed. Laura had left campus hours ago, but her course – and the nausea it gave her – was inescapable. Even watching the green countryside of Galar breeze past brought no relaxation, just a slowly-intensifying awareness of time wasted since she last studied, and a chance to catch her reflection in the train window. She had the kind of bags under the eyes that made a girl wanna rethink her life. She put a hand to her face to brush hair from her eyes, and ended up scratching at a stray scab. Stop that. Gotta study.

Laura smothered the urge to drown her brain in useless smartphone bullshit and turned to her textbooks once again. She hunched over the booth’s table and held her heavy head scarcely six inches away from the pages, elbows on either side. Her eyes slid off the walls of text as if they’d been greased. Jargon. Buzzwords. Garbage.

Howls afar, fuck this.

Her eyes felt leaden. She endured perpetual headaches. She berated herself mentally every other bloody minute. Yeah, reading finance with an emphasis on risk assessment at the Wyndon School of Economics was fucking killing her slowly. What was the point in going home for the holidays if all she got to do was revise?

Well. She’d get to see Salem. That would be worth it, at least until she had to leave again.

What she actually wanted was Salem with her on campus, for starters, but there was slim chance that would ever happen. Best not to dwell. As the scenery went by unseen, she worked her way through the pencil, partly from taking notes, but mostly from her habit of eating the fucking things. Disgusting. She jammed it underneath her leg.

Laura’s pencil-chewing certainly hadn’t been in force before starting uni. Now any time something bothered her, she would find one between her teeth without the slightest involvement from her brain. Graphite sure tasted foul, but forcing herself not to use a pencil made her clench her jaw until it ached. She once tried chewing gum instead, and soon earned herself a spot of indigestion. So, pencil-ends it was. Better pencils than fingernails.

The pencils came out for deadlines, missed calls, conversations with strangers, doomscrolling online, whatever. How long had she been staring out of the window, thinking about how unhappy she was…?

The pencil was back between her teeth. She spat it out. She’d never needed to chew shit back when she could just scratch Salem’s chin any time she got strung out.

In lieu of her own purrloin, maybe there’d be pokémon on the train she could talk to… Trainers weren’t uncommon on domestic rail, right? But who approached strangers on public transport to talk to their pokémon? In Galar? Nutcases, and Unovans on holiday.

All the same, she’d love to talk to a trainer. Any trainer. A badass pro like Marnie, a rookie kid, whoever. She could ask about their team, and what they’d seen out in the wilds, and feel like it was all a little less far away. It would be comforting, the same way it was comforting to search online for pokémon-friendly workplaces. That was normal in Galar. For fuck’s sake, practically any field would let her work with pokémon, anything but fucking finance.

Her eyes fell on a snapback trainer’s cap further down the carriage. Worth a try. A minute later, with her luggage tucked into the overhead storage, she approached the wearer and gave a shy little wave. A strip on the boy’s collar held a trio of pokéballs. Perfect.

“Uh, hi?” said the kid, looking up from his phone.

“Uh… Hey. You’re a trainer, right?” she asked, anxious jitters multiplying in her limbs already.

“Yeah? Yeah. Can I help you?”

Laura laughed nervously. “I was just wondering if I could see any of your pokémon… I don’t see a lot of tame ‘mon on campus.”

The boy gave her a bit of a look, and Laura nearly started apologising for even asking, but then he scoffed, smiled, and reached for his collar.

“Sure. In the Longest Night spirit, why not. ‘Do a favour for a stranger.’ He’ll be grumpy that I’m waking him, though. Got any snacks?”

“I have a granola bar?”

The trainer shrugged, and maximised a pokéball. One firm finger-press, and it popped open with that distinctive hollow smack sound, silver energy coalescing in the nearest train seat. When the glow faded, a jade-and-crimson lizard barely shorter than Laura sat there, human-like, returning her stare with a cool, wary gaze. He made a sort of clicking growl, and tilted his head in the most casual sign there was: [Huh?]

The thing about most reptilian pokémon was that they tended not to be particularly social. But grovyle were official starter ‘mon in many regional circuits; they were one of those evolutionary lines that natural selection had happened to make into traditional partners for human travellers. Smart. Loyal. Not to be condescended to.

Laura gave a nod and made a few quick signs – [Hello. Your partner says you are hungry.] – and presented her snack bar. Grovyle peered at it with his head at a sharp angle, then took it in one vicious-looking claw. He looked like a battler, all quick movement and lean muscle. The gloss of his scales made Laura want to touch them.

[Who’s this?] signed Grovyle, somehow managing to look sassy. His trainer shrugged, and Grovyle shrugged back, then tore open the packaging with a razor-sharp claw. His crest-leaf quivered with excitement even though his face remained impassive.

Laura watched Grovyle eat the food, noting how he held it almost like a human, but did not chew. A brief crunch broke it into pieces, in a jaw full of needlepoint teeth. She felt the perplexed gaze of Grovyle’s trainer on her, wondering why she was so taken with a pokémon eating food. Of course, he would have seen this countless times. It was only fascinating to Laura because she hadn’t seen shit. It was embarrassing, really.

[I wanted to meet a pokémon who battles,] she explained, surprising herself. Grovyle watched her, hardly blinking. She continued, [I have been apart from my partner for a long time and I promised that when I see her again, I’d help her become strong. You look very strong. Like I want to help my partner be.]

Grovyle turned his head further, to peer at her more closely with one yellow eye. Then he signed, deftly, in abrupt bursts. Reptile-accented signing was so unlike what Laura usually saw from Salem, and he was so fluent. A guilty part of her mind wondered if Salem would ever be half as articulate as this.

[I am pretty strong,] signed Grovyle, whose throat had flared a brighter red in response to the praise. [However, strength in battle comes from pokémon and human, together. I am stronger with a strong trainer. I am weaker with a weak trainer.] He made the wavering motion with one claw and cocked-head that meant [So…?]

Laura bit her lip. The most important thing in the world just then was to give this lizard a good answer. She tried: slow, deliberate hand gestures, the ‘flexing/pushing’ motion for strength, indicator signs…

[If I want my partner to be strong, I have to be strong.]

Grovyle nodded, then he stuck his tongue out at her and tipped his head up. Clear approval. Laura’s shoulders untensed in relief.

[So be strong,] signed Grovyle. [That is my advice.]

Laura smiled, taking care not to show teeth. “Thank you,” she said. She considered asking to touch Grovyle’s scales. Maybe he’d object… but she had to try, right?

[May I touch you?]

Grovyle put his head on one side. [Do you have more food?]

“[Sorry, no.]”

[Then no. I would like to go back in my ball now, thank you and goodbye.]

Laura nodded, and Grovyle’s trainer bemusedly held out the pokéball for retrieval. Grovyle dipped his head at Laura – [Nice meeting you.] – and tapped the ball with his claw, only to vanish in a flicker of light.

Laura smiled awkwardly at the trainer. “[Thanks,]” she managed, still signing over her spoken words out of habit.

“What was that all about?” he asked, looking up from his phone.

Laura shrugged. “Stuff.”

The kid grunted, and thus seemed to consider the conversation concluded. Laura returned to her seat with a tiny smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. A circuit ace ‘mon had given her advice. And she’d signed a conversation! She wasn’t all that out of practice after all. Hopefully Salem wouldn’t be either, despite Mum and Dad refusing to bother learning sign for her sake. Either way, it would be good to get home and talk to her bloody purrloin again, priceless little shit that she was. Howls, she’d be so glad to see Salem.

XxX​

Four hours later, she was standing in the living room with her rucksack still slung on one shoulder, facing her parents, the acid churning in her gut like crazy. Just her and her parents in the room. Nobody on her side. No-one, anywhere, was on her fucking side.

She didn’t have a pencil. Her hand went to her mouth, and her teeth closed around a knuckle.

There she was. Eyes wide, staring at the floor, stone-still. Almost drawing blood.

She’d gone all semester without knowing. Without hearing an update, or seeing a cute photo sent by SMS, let alone having a video call.

We didn’t want to distract you from your studies, love.”

We thought she might come back. You know how cats are.”

But Salem wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a disinterested purrloin, only caring for a warm bed and some supper. Salem had never gone walkabout for a week and been found in someone else’s kitchen. She was a companion – a pokémon who would have been her League starter. Salem was always there, at home, waiting for her, eager to be together. Waiting.

It made sense, though. Her purrloin had practically begged for her to give her more than a handful of visits a year, and she’d brushed off the request like it was a demand for bigger food portions.

Salem always waited. Every time. Practically at the front door.

She had expected Salem to wait for her like that for three months.

Salem had abandoned her— no. No. She had abandoned Salem.

How dare she be shocked and hurt? This was her fault.

“Laura? Laura, look at me when I’m talking to you.”

She raised her eyes, but she couldn’t look at her father’s face. She clenched her fists tight enough to hurt, and put her line of sight on his sallow neck. Maybe she could just let him lecture her and nod just often enough that eventually it would end, and she could go to her room and think without being scolded.

Then Gordon Weir said what he loved to say.

“Don’t let this distract you from your studies,” he said.

Don’t waste time caring about the only living thing you can count on to be kind to you.

All that matters is that you keep doing this miserable thing you’re no fucking good at.


Laura’s peripheral vision faded as her eyes welled up and a red, serrated buzzing began to boil in her brain. Hot, loud static passed over her head, down her shoulders, and into the skin and sinew of her arms.

It doesn’t matter if you’re never happy again. Merry bloody Longest Night, Laura.

“It won’t,” she said, through teeth welded shut.

She didn’t listen to what her father said next, buried in her private world of guilt and shame. Some admonition to her about spoiling solstice celebrations with her attitude that she hardly processed a word of. She clutched her backpack to her shoulder and turned away, to retreat to her room pursued by her dad’s accusations of ‘hysteria’, and her own self-hatred.

Buried in blankets, the door to her room barricaded against entry, only the self-hatred caught up with her. It followed her up the stairs and got into bed with her to nestle as a darkness behind her eyes. It was a familiar, patient loathing, preferring to gradually darken everything she saw until she became ready to smother the remaining light herself. From her position she could see her posters of Melony and Bea, and their ace pokémon beside them. They bled brightness with every second until all that was left was the thought of Salem isn’t here, until the absence of weight and warmth in the crook of her arm became a pulling coldness she could hardly stand. But the more she clutched at the covers and for distractions, the more reminders of Salem clutched at her chest. Reminders of her failure.

Laura jammed a knuckle between her teeth and forced herself to the bathroom. Private, and with fewer reminders. If she stayed put, she’d soon build up enough guilt in her gut to want to vomit, anyway.

She sank to the floor with her back up against the bathtub, clawed at the skin of her arms, and clenched her jaw so hard it sent pain shooting through her skull. How had it even happened? Why hadn’t her parents told her? Did they let it happen? Did they do it? And where was Salem now? She could be anywhere. She could be gone. Laura could be alone, indefinitely. And more importantly, Salem could be hurt—

…Or not. She could be okay. Salem might not be an outdoor cat as such, but she was a developmentally mature pokémon. She was fast, she could scratch, she’d been in a few battles (don’t think about how they were half-remembered playground scuffles that ended years ago; don’t think about how feral pokémon don’t play by League rules) and she could probably come back if she got hurt or scared.

Maybe she was still in the area. Maybe she was okay.

Laura should put up posters. Gods… ‘Last seen three months ago’ looked pretty fucking bad, though. Howls, how was she going to frame this?

It was moot. Posters wouldn’t help. Who’d be outside to even see Salem – or the posters – this close to Longest Night? She ought to be checking local pokémon centres, that sort of thing. Wasn’t there a shelter in the south part of town? She found herself already pulling her coat and boots on. Backpack, too.

Good. She could do with a walk anyway, to burn off the stress. And put some distance between her and her fucking parents.

XxX​

Winter. Of course Salem would run away from home with winter approaching; of course Laura only found out when she returned for Longest Night festivities. That thought, like so many of her passing thoughts, just made it worse. Unless she somehow found her purrloin and made things right in the next week, it would be her first Longest Night in memory spent without Salem on her shoulder, staring down with her eyes enormous at wrapping-paper being torn from boxes.

Presents! She hadn’t even got Salem a present yet. More thoughts; worse feelings.

She tried not to think. It was easy, with the air being so cold, and the wind so aggressive. No falling snow, just plenty of wind-chill.

There were lights up on many houses. Midwinter decorations to keep spirits high. The odd delibird statue on a lawn or roof.

Step after step. A crunch of frost on the pavement; a crack of ice where a tiny puddle had frozen stiff. Step, step, step. Cold air burning her bare fingers – the comfort of gloves or jacket pockets both meagre and undeserved. All comfort felt decadent when Salem had nothing out here but her fur.

Of course, she could have found someone else to look after her.

Cold fingers. Cold face. No thoughts. Just step after step.

It occurred to Laura that a runaway animal would just be returned to her, but a runaway pokémon could choose not to come home. Salem might choose not to come home.

Well.

That would be her right, wouldn’t it?

Laura wondered if it was cold enough to freeze tears. She looked up at the white expanse of the sky, heavy with snow, and refused to cry.

Deadlines and drama and 9am seminars felt colourless, unreal. Why hadn’t she so much as texted her parents during a lecture to ask how Salem was doing? Because her parents sucked? That just meant she cared less about Salem than she hated interacting with her parents, and that couldn’t be true. So it was just her own thoughtlessness.

Ah, but did thoughtless people feel so fucking bad about it, day after day? Laura gave a shit. She did. She just didn’t know how not to space the fuck out constantly.

‘Thoughtlessness’. The real thoughtlessness was that of her parents – she would never have assumed that they’d hide Salem running away from her. That was the real answer. She’d trusted her parents to tell her if anything happened, and they hadn’t.

A lurch in her stomach as she wondered if they’d taken Salem away themselves. Sold her, or something.

Cold fingers. Cold face. Cold mind. Nothing in her head but step after step, and an anger she could only look at out of the corner of her eye, for fear of feeling it so strongly that she’d forget how to breathe.

When she looked up and took stock of her surroundings, she’d walked the length of town and found herself almost at the very edge, where you could take public footpaths, League Routes or a bi-hourly bus service to the more rural villages west and south of Circhester. She’d stopped at a little market square, with a bus stop shelter that hadn’t seen a new coat of paint since she was born, and bushes that claimed just enough of the pavement that you ended up walking in the road and hopping back to hug the leaves when a vehicle approached. She’d used to come out here to train with Salem.

She thought about calling for her, but the name froze solid in her throat.

She was shivering now. She hadn’t planned on coming this far in weather this cold, and she only had two layers and a scarf. She fumbled for her phone, wishing she had those haptic gloves that kept you warm but let you use a touchscreen. Her finger ran sluggish with friction over her screen as she drew the pass pattern, its tip too numb to feel a thing.

She checked her notifications on autopilot, scolded herself for the distraction, and dismissed the lot without really looking at them. Where could she go now that was nearby? She needed to get warm, and maybe vent a little to a passing soul.

Oh, right. The shelter.

She’d kept meaning to volunteer there when she was younger, but they were already overstaffed with keen young people eager to work with pokémon, not to mention the pokémon who helped out there as well. It was a likely enough place to have picked up a stray purrloin, one way or another. Laura chewed the inside of her cheek at the thought that she was already too late to find Salem there, if it was where she had gone.

She marched off, shoving her hands under her armpits to warm them. Enough useless emotional melodrama. She was going to be smart, determined, and effective. And that meant not catching frostbite. What was the use in punishing herself?

It wasn’t far, but it felt like an age in the cold. They were still open – they stayed open all hours, for pokémon who just wanted somewhere warm to sleep – and the front door yielded to her hunched left shoulder, ringing the chimes above it. The front room was mostly a storefront, and decked out with Longest Night decorations. A girl at the counter gave her a little wave.

“Hi, I’m Sam! How can I help you?”

Laura swallowed, and tried to remember how to speak. Some combination of emotion and winter chill stopped her words coming easily.

“Hi. I’m Laura. I’m looking for, ah, a pokémon.”

“We have almost any kind of pokémon you want, love. Do you want to come through and meet everyone?”

“Uh, a specific pokémon. My… missing pokémon. It’s Sam, right?” She caught her breath as the girl nodded and confirmed her name. “Sam, have you had a tortoiseshell purrloin in this shelter? A female purrloin.”

“Well… when would this have been?”

Laura screwed her eyes shut. “Any time in the last three months, I’m afraid.”

Her throat closed on every explanation. She’d been at uni, her parents had been negligent, they didn’t care, it wasn’t her fault. It was all pedantry. The nauseating guilt proved it was her fault.

“Well, we have a lot of cats in here, so I’m not sure… but let me just check!” said Sam, her smile faltering for a moment. “Was she microchipped? Or would she have been wearing a collar…?”

“Uh, I don’t know. No collar. I don’t know about a microchip.”

Laura’s hands clenched into loose fists and squirmed at her sides. Try not to think about what if Salem was already gone. Think about something trivial. The girl. She liked it here, obviously. It was unfair that this girl got to help pokémon and enjoy it while Laura worked herself stupid trying to read up on finance, business, supply and demand, and stocks and shares and monopolies and loans and—

“Miss?”

“Oh – sorry?”

“Could I have your name please, Miss?”

“Laura. Laura Weir. That’s ‘Weir’ as in Wurmple, Eldegoss, Inkay, Raboot.”

“Thank you, Laura, one moment…”

Laura thought of half a dozen new ways to hate herself while Sam searched in the database, but eventually the girl looked up again.

“So, the thing is,” said Sam, putting fresh anxiety in Laura’s gut, “we have had a purrloin in that time, but that pokémon was already adopted out, you see. And in any case, she didn’t have a microchip, so we wouldn’t be able to confirm that this was your pokémon…”

“I could show you a photo of her,” pleaded Laura.

“I’m sorry, but this purrloin was only with us briefly. I wouldn’t recognise her, and we don’t have a picture of her on record.”

Laura sank to the desk, her head in her hands. Sam fussed a bit, explaining and apologising, but Laura could only hear her own thoughts. She was too late. All she’d had to do was phone home and check on Salem from time to time. Would Mum and Dad have lied about it, if asked directly? Who knew? Maybe there was still a chance she could find Salem, but how slim? Maybe Salem wouldn’t come home even if Laura found her. What would even happen if she did? Laura would still have to go back to campus without her… Maybe she could pretend Salem was her emotional support pokémon. At this rate it would be for emotional support, she was this close to dropping out…

“Laura? Please? Are you with me, Miss?”

She’d lost Salem, yes, but she’d already lost so much else on campus. At least before uni, she’d still held out hope for a proper pokémon journey one day, then moving to Ballonlea and taking up photography, or something. She’d lost even her own wants. When people asked her why she ‘wanted’ to read finance, she could only parrot her dad’s bullshit. She’d never wanted to work for some Wyndon corporation doing budget spreadsheets! Why was she doing it? Any of it?

Well, Mum and Dad had decided for her, hadn’t they.

Sure, she could blame her parents, for twisting her arm her entire bloody life. But they hadn’t forced her at sword-point to apply for this course. She’d given up. She fought back for years before losing the fight, but she hadn’t fought hard enough to know if she could’ve won. She was nineteen now. They couldn’t stop her hiking across all of Galar with a team of pokémon.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to do something, anything, that made her happy.

“…Miss?”

“I’d like to see what pokémon you have available for adoption,” said Laura, her own voice sounding strange to her. “Also, I’d like a provisional trainer license application form, if you have them…? Uh, please. I have my own pencil.”

XxX​

“So… can I see the pokémon? Do you have certain ones that are set aside for trainers – provisional ones, I guess – as opposed to domestic owners, or…?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Jamie, smiling. He was the mousy-blond bloke who managed the pokémon at the shelter. He must’ve done a League circuit as a kid, judging by the little twitches of half-pokésign that accompanied his words. “This’ll be pretty informal, though, and I can’t promise the pokémon that you’ll become a League challenger. I’ll just tell them an older girl wants a travelling partner who likes to battle, and most of them will understand. Or they’ll figure it out from the excitement.”

Excitement…? Laura imagined a room full of pokémon who all wanted to be someone’s partner but never got picked, and braced herself for a difficult choice.

Jamie showed her through to the visiting room, where several pokémon were playing, resting, or grooming each other. Pokémon of nearly every type were present, and even some evolved ‘mon. She spotted a morgrem filing their claws, and a lampent that looked like an amber streetlight…

“Hey, everyone!” called Jamie, signing loosely as he spoke. “We’ve got a young lady here who wants a travelling companion who can battle! You know the drill!”

Some of the pokémon sauntered or scurried out of the room, to the private areas of the shelter or to the back garden, while the rest gathered around to scrutinise her. A few newcomers arrived from outside to join the assembly.

“Uh, hi there,” tried Laura. Ugh, she sounded so unconfident. “My name’s Laura! I want to be a pokémon trainer, and travel across Galar. I need a pokémon partner, and I hope one of you guys will pick me.”

Yeah, leave it to the pokémon to pick her so she wouldn’t feel guilty about the ones she didn’t pick. Nice move, Laura.

There was some cross-talk among the pokémon as the more attentive ones relayed the gist to their friends, and several of them tried getting her attention at once.

Jamie chuckled. “It’s you that picks them, love. Look, I’ll leave you with them a bit, ‘cause some of ours are a bit shy to jump at you at first sight. See Mienshao over there? She’s staff, she’s in charge while I go close up for the day. You just let me know when you’re done, okay?”

Laura nodded and watched him leave. Then she turned back to her several prospective partners and carefully lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Mienshao approached, her body flowing like water between the other ‘mon. She bowed her head to Laura, and began making gestures in truly excellent humanlike-class pokésign.

[Do you speak sign, Kid?]

Laura blinked, unsure if she’d understood correctly. The sign was a sort of ‘pat’ as if patting the head of a smaller being, like the sign for ‘infant’, but followed by a casual flick that made it a friendly moniker… Yeah, Mienshao had definitely called her ‘kid’. She grinned. It had been ages since she’d had a really good conversation in sign.

[Yeah, pretty well I think. Your signing is great!] she said, using a mix of human- and feline-class signs, the equivalent of having an ‘accent’ in pokésign. Mienshao practically beamed with delight at this, then kept signing with even better proficiency than Laura’s own. It was, frankly, humbling.

[Alright, Kid!] signed Mienshao. [I’ll let everyone know what you’re saying, don’t worry. First question: why do you want to be a trainer now?]

Oh, she was good. Laura almost answered with a rambling spiel, but the inflection in Mienshao’s gestures asked ‘why the delay, huh?’ Fair enough.

[I wanted to be a trainer when I was young, but I was stopped from doing this. I came to feel that this was wrong for me. Now, I am making a decision to turn around from what I was doing, and do what will be happy for me.]

She winced a little at how rusty she was after a uni term away from Salem and regular signing, but really, she still did better than the average human not regularly walking the beaten track. Mienshao seemed content, judging by her effusive signing.

[Have you had much experience with pokémon before?] asked Mienshao, earnestly. [This is important!]

[Yeah, loads,] said Laura, truthfully enough. [I had a ‘feline, dark-type, small’ pokémon for many years, and I have studied pokémon and spent time with them when possible.]

Mienshao gave her a look that took her aback. [A purrloin?] she asked, using the precise sign for that species – a melding of the signs for ‘tail’ and ‘steal’ with a little hooking motion. Was she offended that Laura had used adjectival signs instead of the sign for ‘purrloin’? That would be fair, really. Mienshao had an expert vocabulary, and Laura should know the sign for her own pokémon…

[Yeah. A purrloin. My best friend. She is… lost.]

Mienshao stared at her. The other pokémon, who had been watching the exchange in quiet attentiveness, had changed their energy. They were tense. Something was wrong. She shouldn’t have said she’d lost her old pokémon. They wouldn’t trust her now. Fuck. Fucking damnit.

Mienshao signed again with great care and deliberation. [Your friend. Female, black fur, sign-name ‘Pickpocket’?]

Laura’s heart stopped as her chest caved in and her entire body seemed to pull in on itself.

Salem.

“Yes!” she blurted. “Oh my fucking god, you know Salem? What— How did—”

[You should speak to my friend,] signed Mienshao, cutting off Laura’s flailing. She pointed towards the herdier beside her, who pushed himself to his feet and plodded forwards with a canine snort. Grey fur streaked across his coat, and age had turned his eyes milky, but something in the air told Laura he could fight.

[Talk to me!] he said, with a toss of his head and a sharp bark.

[Uh, okay, did you see—] she began.

Herdier stamped his forepaws one after the other, a sign that generally meant, [You’re not doing what I want!] Laura thought fast.

“Oh, you want me to talk out loud?” she tried.

[Yes!]

“Sure, I guess. So, what, you knew [Pickpocket] or something?”

[Yes!] he said again, nodding and letting out a low woof.

“Was she here? Did she stay with you guys? Do you know if—”

Herdier barked again, and tapped his little feet.

Okay. Slow down for the old dog. One thing at a time.

“Sorry,” she said. “Let’s try that again.”



XxX​

“This one? You’re sure?”

Laura nodded, barely suppressing a wild grin. “Yeah. What’s his spoken name? He says his sign name is [King], which is pretty cool.”

Jamie pulled a begrudging face of agreement. “Yeah. He’s called ‘Caesar’ in Galarish. He’s an old battling ‘mon, experienced, but in his twilight years. The lillipup line are very sturdy, but are you sure he’s what you’re looking for?”

Laura looked down at the old herdier, and offered him her fist to sniff, and to bump with his forehead. He wuffed quietly through his thick muzzle fur.

“Yeah. He’ll look after me.”

And he knew Salem, and he knew the scent of the woman who’d taken her.

Laura waved goodbye to Mienshao – who signed [Good luck, Kid!] in reply – and went to the counter, where Jamie handed her off to Sam to sign adoption papers for Caesar. The herdier sat primly on his hindquarters, looking up with what Laura was sure was pride. He was so different to Salem – old, canine, patient – but that determined look was familiar. Maybe some pokémon just had that spark.

Laura’s hand hovered over the final dotted line.

“You’re sure you wanna come with me?” she asked.

Wuff.”

That was a yes. He’d seemed pretty certain in the visiting room, his stubby tail wagging at the suggestion that he could help reunite her with Salem, but she had to be sure. And now she was.

“There. We’re partners now, huh, Caesar?”

Wuff!”

Dogs had the best sign of all. Tail-wagging that strong always meant [Hell yeah!]

Sam beamed, and after an exchange of thanks, helped Laura pick out a few things for her journey. It turned out the shelter was more than happy to throw in cut-price food, potions and pokéballs from their bulk-purchased supplies, and with adoption fees for older pokémon being low anyway, Laura barely winced at the payment. The starter camping gear for new trainers was pricier, but like fuck was she going without it.

“That seems like everything to me!” said Sam, cheerily.

“Oh, right,” stammered Laura, “One last thing, I think. Would you please give me the contact details for whoever adopted Salem? The purrloin. Uh, thanks.”

Sam nodded anxiously and went looking for them. Then her brow furrowed.

“Well, actually, I don’t think I’m supposed to…?” she replied. “That’s private information, so…”

Laura bit her lip.

“Please. I’m sure that was my cat, and knowing who took her is the only chance I have to find her again.”

Sam looked like she wanted to disappear into thin air. “I’m really sorry, it’s just, we aren’t supposed to give out contact information. I’d call them myself, but since there’s no microchip or collar to show that this was your pokémon…”

There was a crash over at the far end of the shopfront. Caesar had taken himself over to the racks of pokémon toys and pulled one over, scattering chew-toys and balls and everything else across the floor. He held a length of rope aloft with pride.

“Oh, oh no,” moaned Sam, leaving the counter to hurry over and fix the disaster.

Laura’s stomach dropped as her face fell, but only for a moment.

Caesar winked at her, and pointed his nose at Sam’s computer monitor.

Oh.

Holy shit.

Laura leaned over the counter at the screen.

Purrloin, female, tortoiseshell.

Salem.

Alisha Renadier.

The adopting human. Oddly familiar name, for some reason…

Perihelion Association.

Laura swallowed hard. Not a private citizen adopting a pet, then. This ‘Alisha’ worked for Perihelion, maybe in their pokémon rehabilitation programme, and that meant getting her cat back from a corporation—

Sam swore under her breath as she lifted the rack, putting a jolt of urgency in Laura’s limbs. She took out her phone and snapped a quick photo of the screen, along with the contact info, then waved goodbye to the struggling staff.

“Thanks so much for everything,” she called. “Sorry about Caesar, guess I should have bought the rope to begin with, huh? I’ll just, uh, leave a fiver on the counter. Gotta go, take care!”

The bewildered girl managed a scattered reply as Laura left, her new partner at her heel, still holding the rope toy in his smug mouth.



XxX​

Laura Weir, human, was nineteen years old when she left Circhester on foot – accompanied by a pokémon! Her pokémon! – for the first time. Route 8 would give way to warmer weather and ancient ruins further along, but Steamdrift Way, just outside city limits, was cold as fuck. She’d seen Routes at a distance before, mostly from cars and trains, but she’d never trod them, never navigated them, never been at risk of challenges from boisterous wild pokémon. And while she had a pokémon now, her partner was unfamiliar to her, and ageing. Howls, he’d asked to stay in his ball during travel to spare his poor arthritic legs. She needed a team.

Best not to be ambitious. She’d catch something with a mild temperament, familiar to her, with a reliable advantage of some kind. She had just the pokémon in mind. She’d catch a snom. They were easygoing little larvae, happy to eat frozen snacks endlessly, and she knew them well from years of petting them on walks around the city. Well enough to spot the glittery sheen that indicated a snom with ice scales, the unique ability that let an adult frosmoth casually shrug off energy-based attacks.

It wasn’t hard to find a colony. They were Circhester’s iconic local species, after all, and tended to gather both in the city limits and immediately beyond each exit. Laura found a dozen snom sheltering beneath an overpass, hanging like icicles from the brickwork. She could probably just toss a ball and catch one immediately. Didn’t feel right, though. You were supposed to give ‘mon a chance to test you in battle, even the little bugs.

She hefted a pokéball. It weighed hardly anything, but still felt heavy in her hand. There were more ways to get this wrong than right... A twinge of doubt stayed Laura’s arm. What if a snom would be… dead weight on her team? It felt mean of her to consider, but still. They were juvenile little bugs after all, and usually frail.

But even so, they were pokémon. It was a rare ‘mon who didn’t love to fight.

“H-hey!” she shouted up at the colony. “Do any of you want to battle?”

A couple of the pudgy icicles twitched and swung a little. Good enough. Laura released Caesar from his ball, and he sniffed about to assess the situation before announcing, with a rapid series of barks and signs that there were, in fact, other pokémon nearby.

“Good boy!” Laura laughed, before pointing up at the snom. “I’m looking for a new teammate! How about it?”

There was no telling if the snom actually understood her, but first one, then the rest, dropped from the overpass in quick succession at the appearance of a pokémon to challenge.

Laura had expected she might get a challenger. She hadn’t expected a horde battle. Already, the snom were whipping up a swirling barrage of fine, powdery snow. Between them, they could probably put Caesar in trouble. Shit, she needed something to stabilise against several pokémon at once… She recalled what moves Caesar was listed as knowing on his adoption papers. Ah!

“Caesar, snarl!”

He pulled back his lips to reveal fearsome teeth, then barked and growled furiously enough to whip up dark-type energy. Straight for the move, not rusty at all! A flurry of biting snow cut him off with a yelp, but not before his attack connected, knocking most of the snom against the brickwork behind them. All but one.

The single persevering snom puffed themself up and attempted to summon a powder snow attack on their own. As they did, Laura noticed their body was more iridescent than their colony-mates. Ice scales. This one was energy-resistant. Perfect.

“Hey!” shouted Laura, her heart hammering. “I want to— to catch you, and have you on my team! Will you be my partner?”

The snom, who may or may not have understood a thing she’d just said, finished raising their icy attack and sent it straight at Caesar, who weathered it with a stoic growl. The attack was diminished compared to the last, but still not pleasant by any measure. Laura shivered. Alright. It was worth a shot.

She took an empty pokéball from her bag, primed it with a dull click, and tossed it underarm at her opponent. Snom didn’t dodge. In fact, they dropped their powder snow and turned to look at the incoming ball with apparent curiosity. It made contact, snapped open, and converted Snom instantly to bright light, pulling them inside.

Laura bent down to stare at the twitching capsule as Snom’s energy pulsed within. If they were satisfied with the fight, and not desperate to get away, then just maybe…

A hollow clang; a flash from the ball’s front plate.

Laura’s first catch.

She gingerly reached out and took the ball with care, as if it might spring open, or break apart. The ball lay still in her fingers, now much colder to the touch. In front of her, the defeated snom were ascending the bricks of the overpass to reach their previous spot, unbothered by their companion’s absence.

Her second teammate. (Or should that be ‘third’?) While they wouldn’t be able to hold their own for a while yet, they could well be incredible when they evolved. If they evolved. Howls...

She cradled the ball to her chest as she stood up and watched the other snom. It was getting dark already. That was winter in Galar for you. Dark and cold. Please don’t leave me, she pleaded silently, pressing the cool metal sphere to her chin and closing her eyes. Please help me.

Laura turned back, and walked in a soft stupor for a minute until she found a low wall to sit on. Caesar followed, panting stoically. She knew what came next. After you caught a pokémon, you had to talk to them. Make sure they knew what they were signing up for. Make sure you knew what you were getting into by bringing them along.

She pressed the release button on the ball. Snom chose to manifest beside her thigh. They didn’t seem distressed, or surprised. Laura glanced at Caesar – the herdier nodded to her with a very specific forward twitch of his ears. Laura bit her lip. She knew that sign.

[It’s okay – you’ve got this.]

Okay. She’d got this. Okay.

“Hey. I’ve, uh… never done this before,” she told the bug, resting her arms on her knees. “Never caught a pokémon before. You’re the very first.”

Snom looked up at Laura with small, black eyes. Their mouthparts twitched. Did they get what she meant? Base-stage bugs didn’t tend to be the smartest creatures. She wasn’t even sure how to parse Snom’s pokésign, if they even knew any. Caesar nudged her leg encouragingly. Laura brushed hair from her eyes and tried again, her chest tight.

“I’m a pokémon trainer,” she said, feeling like a liar. “I want you to come with me. I’ll help you get strong, and we’ll battle other pokémon together. I’ll look after you; you’ll protect me. Does that… Does that sound okay? Do you want that?”

Snom’s mouthparts twitched, and they bumped Laura’s knee with them.

[Sure. I’m hungry. Feed me.]

“Oh! Just a sec…”

Laura retrieved an oran berry from her bag and proffered it. Snom took it with a squeak of pleasure. At least they already understood that humans could be made to supply food. That was a start.

Snom nibbled away, chirping to themself. Laura hugged herself and shivered a little.

Alongside the shiver came the buzzing of her phone, set to vibrate. Her gut twisted, but she took it out to check her notifications.

Laura, you’ve been out long enough. Come home immediately and help your mother put out Longest Night decorations, and you’ll have time to study before bed.

She blinked. She squinted at the message. She briefly considered lobbing her phone straight at the ground and stamping it under her boot until the thousand-thousand hateful messages inside it were nothing but glass splinters and corrupted data.

She put her fingers to the screen, not sure if they shook from cold, anger, or horror.

I’m not coming home.

I’m looking for my fucking pokémon, like you should have done.

For your Longest Night present to me this year, how about you go to hell.


She switched her phone to silent, and stuffed it back in her pocket as if it would scald her to keep it in her hand. Her shuddering breaths produced a rapid, shallow series of vapour-wisps that felt more real than what she’d just done. She looked down at Caesar, still sat staunchly at her feet. He seemed real enough.

“I just made a crazy decision,” she told him, quietly. “And I don’t really know what I’m doing. You sure you wanna come with a crazy human with no plan?”

The herdier woofed softly, and stamped one foot in the frost.

[Absolutely.]
 

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Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
Hey Jackie! I'm gonna be coming at you with a triple-threat. Three reviews for three chapters!

The first chapter (after a refresher with the prologue) was a good opening that helped me get situated into the story. I really liked in particular the segment where Salem was starting to really understand what it meant to think in a more human way than to have just simple thoughts in the present. It helped illustrate a few things--the way the Pokemon world worked normally, and how Salem was now experiencing things differently. It also helped really illustrate the premise of the struggle she'd be going through.

One thing that was also interesting was how her speech seemed to already start once she was out, while apparently at least a few others were still trying to work on their galarish. I wonder if that's a head start, or makes her a prodigy.

Pacing wise, the only part that was a little dragging was, the scene just prior to her realizing her humanity, at least one scene of the transition seemed superfluous, redundant, or otherwise 'get on with it's after so many sequences. I think two of them could have been condensed into one, perhaps?

Either way, it's a strong opening chapter that sets the tone as a 'new beginnings' kind of story, at least for now. I'm wondering at the end of chapter 1 how that will carry forward, and for how long.
 

Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
This one's for chapter 2-

Ah, so she only thought she could say it. I guess that's something I should have expected, though it would have been interesting if the story was following some kind of prodigy and how that was even more different, but following the typical exploration is fine, too. Slightly a let down since that was the final line of the first chapter, only for that to be wound back and dashed right after. I think it would have had more impact if it wasn't a fake out end to a chapter. Too much of a swerve for too little real payoff.

While slow, Salem trying and stubbornly getting into her body for movement and trying to get all of the new sensation coming in was very nice. You also came very close to a title drop but just couldn't do it for real, could you?

I'm surprised there wasn't a proper scene for her saying her name for the first time compared to other scenes that were actually given the zoom-in treatment. That was an odd priority to take over 'first name' of all things, you know? Definitely could have been central to emotional impact as opposed to more mundane growths. One line I particularly enjoyed was the one that implied what cats always already knew, that making enough of a fuss got humans to do what you wanted. A story so far removed from normalcy, while still trying to act normal, needs little touches like those to keep the reader engaged, I think.
 

Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
Chapter 3

Ah yes, our first somewhat antagonist or at least opposing force. It's interesting just how big and wide this facility is, actually. It makes me wonder just how much funding they're getting and what the ulterior motives would be for it. I suppose that's somewhat for the prologue in some ways, but still, it's a lot.

I like how Veracity is so cutting with her words as well. Despite some of the odd intonations, I think Veracity has probably the most effective speech of all the characters present due to how careful the words seem to be constructed. Quality over quantity. Even more than average humans in a way. Explains why the boss bird title is there to begin with. The cold efficiency with her words was probably the most impressive aspect of all of that, all things considered.

The bond between Salem and Dusk is adorable as well. They have a good bond despite their temperaments being just a little different. I'm curious to see where that will develop as the story continues. Overall, though, a good chapter! Nice to get to know things in a more fleshed out but slice-of-life kind of way.
 

Flyg0n

Flygon connoisseur
Pronouns
She/her
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. swampert
  3. ho-oh
  4. crobat
  5. orbeetle
  6. joltik
  7. salandit
  8. tyrantrum
  9. porygon
Oh my gosh what a chapter. This one, this one is my favorite yet I think. Everything about it pressed all my buttons. Self hating but determined protagonist who makes a choice to stand up do what the heck she wants and go on a journey, all the pokemon/human worldbuilding, the friendship and the pokesign and everything was just immaculate. The prose was :okgon: . You captured so many foreign and hard to describe sensations really well too.

I also really like Laura's progression as a character. I think a passive type character is hard to pull off (or at least, I am bias because I don't like weak-willed characters as much) but you do it exceedingly well here. It's very relatable to understand the pressure Laura felt to behave and make the choices she did, especially leaving Salem to go to Uni, and it felt like a sympathetic one. Even with how garbage Laura's parents were to her before she left, there's the innate syndrome of being their kid and believing 'my parents would never do this though'. Ah naivety.

And then I love her slowly progressing simmering anger until in a moment of boldness she finally steps out from under her parents thumb and remembers she's nineteen and noone can stop you. I absolutely loved it.


Gonna walk home, no need to pick me up at the station, won’t be hungry for anything. Thanks. A little ‘x’ to appease Mum’s demand for affection while avoiding an actual ‘I love you’.
Oof time, love this use as an example of Laura's tense relationship with her parents.

Laura Weir, human, was nineteen years old when she had already lost most of the friends she would ever make. She’d definitely meet new people – if only through classes and a career – but she’d already hit Peak Friend and it would be a falling trend from here.

After all, she was a fuck-up.

A pool of sick heat stirred in her guts. She got that same acid feeling with every stern voicemail from her dad, every shit grade for a piece of coursework, every time her classmates failed to notice she existed. Laura had left campus hours ago, but her course – and the nausea it gave her – was inescapable. Even watching the green countryside of Galar breeze past brought no relaxation, just a slowly-intensifying awareness of time wasted since she last studied, and a chance to catch her reflection in the train window. She had the kind of bags under the eyes that made a girl wanna rethink her life. She put a hand to her face to brush hair from her eyes, and ended up scratching at a stray scab. Stop that. Gotta study.
My gosh this was absolutely immaculate. The prose was just crisp and descriptive and perfectly encapsulates the feeling of shame and despair and self-hatred and anxiousness. MMMMMM Love it.

Well. She’d get to see Salem. That would be worth it, at least until she had to leave again.
I'll take 'Words preceeding disaster' for $200!

Now any time something bothered her, she would find one between her teeth without the slightest involvement from her brain.
Another juicy piece of prose. reads so nice as opposed to say 'She subconciously chewed another pencil without really thinking about it'. I aspire to capture this.

“Sure. In the Longest Night spirit, why not. ‘Do a favour for a stranger.’ He’ll be grumpy that I’m waking him, though. Got any snacks?”
I love that this Grovyle is so motivated by snacks.

Grovyle put his head on one side. [Do you have more food?]

“[Sorry, no.]”

[Then no. I would like to go back in my ball now, thank you and goodbye.]
1673228201859.png

Laura Weir, human, was nineteen years old when she left Circhester on foot – accompanied by a pokémon! Her pokémon! – for the first time.
I absolutely love the use of repeated lines between this one and the one earlier at the start of the chapter.

Laura turned back, and walked in a soft stupor for a minute until she found a low wall to sit on. Caesar followed, panting stoically. She knew what came next. After you caught a pokémon, you had to talk to them. Make sure they knew what they were signing up for. Make sure you knew what you were getting into by bringing them along.
Living for your pokemon worldbuilding, extremely Ash-like

I’m not coming home.

I’m looking for my fucking pokémon, like you should have done.

For your Longest Night present to me this year, how about you go to hell.
I was literally screaming and cheering at this point, YES good you tell them STICK IT TO THEM LAURA.

Loved this, favorite part.

The herdier woofed softly, and stamped one foot in the frost.

[Absolutely.]
Banger ending line.

Anyways obviously I loved this chapter, and it was tight and clean, I am always continually impressed by the quality and density of your writing.

Gud fic, pls update
 

Chibi Pika

Stay positive
Staff
Location
somewhere in spacetime
Pronouns
they/them
Partners
  1. pikachu-chibi
  2. lugia
  3. palkia
  4. lucario-shiny
  5. incineroar-starr
The thing I really love about this chapter is how efficient it is. I know it went through a lot of versions and a lot of stuff had to get cut, but it was worth it, because the end result is just so clean. It conveys a ton of stuff, and knows exactly what not to show. We don't need to see the moment when she first gets home and learns that Salem is gone, because we get all the flashes of raw emotion in the aftermath, and that's the important part. We don't need to see Caesar relaying what he saw of Salem when she was at the shelter, because the important part is that he knows, and anything else is better off waiting until we see it firsthand anyway.

I love just how much of Laura we get in such a short amount of time--the crushing weight of the classes that she never wanted to take and the smothering, ever-present expectations, and the way she just immediately lights up at the prospect of just talking to some random mon doing a League run. Here we get our early introduction to the running thread of her needing to be strong for the sake of her partners ("Show conviction!") that we'll see plenty of later on. This is exactly what I am all about with human-Pokemon interactions, and I'm so glad we'll be getting more of it in this version of the fic.

As always, I'm endlessly delighted by the worldbuilding. Pokésign brings so much flavor to the world, and I love the focus on different, overlapping means of communicating, the wording on Laura's signing being roundabout and awkward, the fact that Caesar's sign name is King, all of it. Communication! Trainers and Pokemon communicating, and working together! Inject it into my veins.

now write ur fuckin fic nerd
 

Dragonfree

Moderator
Staff
Location
Iceland
Pronouns
she/her/hers
Partners
  1. butterfree
  2. mightyena
  3. charizard
  4. scyther-mia
  5. vulpix
  6. slugma
  7. chinchou
Chapter 3

Enjoy Salem's relatable awkwardness - seeing the morphs and realizing they're all like her, wanting to wave but hesitating a bit too long. Dusk *grinning like a human who had grown up doing it*, with almost a note of jealousy to it.

Salem's whole initial interaction with Dusk is cute; little awkward, because she's awkward, but charming and lovely. "Encyclopedia" is delightful. Enjoy Dusk having a negative reaction to Laura calling her [kitten], feeling like it was a sort of disrespect, and Salem bristling at that because she loves Laura.

This was only the second time she'd heard another morph speak at all, and Dusk was speaking at length. Her phrasing, her timbre, her rhythm, were all unlike that of humans, and it was pleasant in the manner of a new toy, or petting from a stranger. Maybe 'fascinating', more than pleasant?
Love this, the catness of her comparisons and the way she enjoys Dusk's non-native speech because it's different.

At this point, Taylor approached, his gentle smile familiar enough to soothe. "I hope this was interesting for you, Salem!" he said, brightly. "Absol Whiskey is probably not the best first-time seminar tutor for you, though. Would you like to come with me again now? I can give you that tour of the facility, if you like."
Pretty telling that Taylor is like "uhhh Whiskey might not be the best teacher for your first seminar". Whiskey definitely seems like a guy with little patience.

There was one morph, cross-legged on the floor, quietly reading a book Salem knew this one's species for sure: mienshao.
Missing a period there after "quietly reading a book".

Various doors led to the canteen, (no more breakfast in bed), other classrooms, the arena, and the dormitories, where her new bed awaited her.
When you've got a parenthesized insertion like this, you don't want punctuation before it. So just "Various doors led to the canteen (no more breakfast in bed), other classrooms..."

The canteen entrance faced rows of long tables with benches on each side, many of them taken up by morph occupants. A series of counters to the left – staffed by a human, and also by a pachirisu-morph, to Salem's delight – bore not only food, but a stack of trays, plates and so on. Dusk led her along to these, took up a tray, and gave a casual, confident demonstration of asking the human server – with emphasis – for meatballs, please.

Salem followed suit, her claws flexing into her palm as she did. "Meat-balls, pluh-ease."

Somehow, any kind of emotional reaction at all would have been less surprising than the way the young man in front of her dished out the requested food with a plain "here you go".
The guy must be plenty used to morphs pronouncing things funny, mustn't he.

She nodded, barely looking up from her food. It was not bad at all. The pale liquid turned out to be some kind of soup, which she lapped at, experimentally at first, then quite a lot more. It wasn't bad, either!

"Still hungry," said Salem, awkwardly.

"Makes sense. Long day! Want to get some more?" asked Dusk, flashing that fang of hers again.

"More?"
Salem's wide-eyed surprise at the notion she can just get more food is precious. She is such a cat.

At one point, Dusk simply flowed through a description of her favourite battle she'd spectated, with Salem listening, ears perked, the whole time. Dusk's eyes were bright and her feather quivering as she described the attacks involved with illustrative gestures and a few sound effects. Eventually she noticed Salem staring.

"Shit, sorry, I got excited," she blurted.

Salem didn't mind one bit.

"I like to listen to this," she said.

"Oh," said Dusk. "Okay, then." She had a different kind of grin, now. Something about the eyes. Brighter.
Aww, look at Dusk realizing Salem likes to listen to her ramble.

There was much to learn – about Perihelion, but also about Dusk. For instance, her feather vibrated excitedly whenever Salem learnt a new word from her. Salem liked that.
These interactions are so cute.

"You are loyal to a human who has hurt you," says Veracity, which definitely has layers given what I know about Veracity.

Dusk was looking for joy in Salem's face. She offered a little up in gratitude, even though seeing the white surface of the arena meant seeing Circhester just before spring, before the first snowdrops emerged, snowdrops she hadn't seen in a long time. The snow was like home, yes. Not much else . . . but it was enough.
Awww, Salem showing joy because Dusk wants it from her even though it's making her a bit homesick is heartbreaking.

"Fuck," said Salem, with feeling.

For some seconds after that, Dusk kept silent. Had she said something wrong? What could she say instead—?
I remembered the first iconic line (which is still iconic), but I didn't remember that Dusk doesn't laugh at it - she just cares that something is clearly wrong for Salem.

"I'm too tired," she began, "to not feel bad about Laura."
I like this framing, that she's too tired not to feel bad. She's been able to keep up the enthusiasm about being a morph and so on and refrain from thinking about it too much but Laura's been coming to mind again and again throughout the day and she's just too tired to do all the work of avoiding the topic anymore. She was already getting tired of it with the homesickness incident at the gym.

"Until now?"

"Yes. But she is still important, and always will be important."

Dusk had thoughts behind her eyes that Salem couldn't even guess at, but just the loss of her ever-present grin was clue enough that something was eating her. Whatever it was, she didn't share it.

"So, Laura, she is your family?"
Dusk's definitely picking up on the implication that someone else (her) is important now. Guessing she has mixed feelings on family, given her experiences. But she's still going to help Salem, because it's important to her, and that's what matters.

You do a lovely job this chapter of showing Salem and Dusk bonding; you've got some really cute, authentic interactions and it really sells their friendship. Salem's POV is still very unique and the cat flavoring is so delightful.

The encounter with Veracity is definitely intimidating, and follows from Dusk's early negative reaction to Salem's nickname, another person challenging Salem's love for Laura. On a reread that's sort of what ties the chapter together, Salem feeling increasingly challenged about Laura and how it increasingly bothers her. Which leads nicely in to the next chapter! I thought that'd been chapter five for some reason but nope, and that makes a lot of sense following from this.


Chapter 4

Salem is such a cat and it's so endearing, help. These early scenes really show their relationship and why Salem started to wish she was human. The bit about being inspired by Meowth from the alt-anime is cute.

Laura's dad remains really unpleasant. The constant furniture-thumping makes me wince (and reminds me of my uncle). The argument is well portrayed, Laura's agitation and her dad's infuriating way of responding as if she's just being weird and irrational. It's not like it's necessarily fundamentally unreasonable that they can't easily cover the journey anymore if sponsorship money has changed a lot, but it doesn't feel like they approached her about it with any sympathy or regret. Pretty heartbreaking.

Love the intrigue aspect of Laura talking about wanting a Perihelion sponsorship and all their humanitarian work while we know they're making Pokémorphs.

Salem nodded solemnly. She got the gist. Laura knew how things should be, and other people – in this case, her parents – weren't sensible enough to agree. A terrible shame, but it only really mattered in that it upset Laura.
Such a good cat. Can't wrap her head around most of this stuff but she gets that Laura is right and other people are wrong and that's bad. (Reminiscent of the bit last chapter where Salem commented after the Veracity encounter on how it seemed like you could be right and still not get what you wanted.)

At night, Salem would churn these ideas over and over in the mill of her mind, trying to grasp the big picture, to form a proper understanding of the world, and always having it slip away from her. She hoped that by learning everything Laura could share with her, that, like Mewtwo, she could teach herself to be more human. Being human meant never having to be bored and alone again.
I like how you show the way Salem's Purrloin mind is limiting her; she understands some things, and wants to understand more, but her brain just isn't quite equipped to do it. And that's why she has the moment in chapter one(?) marveling at her expanded cognition. Truly getting everything she always wanted.

Salem kept cocking her head. She didn't know how to ask 'but what about our adventure? Why are you doing this and not that?' so she just signed [TRAINER] in desperation, mimicking the overarm throw that humans used to release a pokémon from their ball at range.

"What? 'Trainer?' Oh. No, Salem, sweetheart." Laura brushed her dark hair from her face, which she always did when saying something important, and gently stroked Salem's cheek fur, which she always did when she was about to disappoint her. "I'm not going to be a trainer. Not anymore. It looks like there are a lot of things I'm not going to be able to do now. You need to start young if possible and get a sponsorship either way, and I didn't, and I can't." She signed some of the key ideas as she spoke. [NO TRAINER. I CAN'T.]

[TRAINER!] Salem signed again, harder this time. Her tail thrashed anxiously.
;_; sadcat emoji

"No, kitten. I can't just . . . run away and battle with you. I don't have a sponsorship. I don't have my parents' permission. I don't… I don't know if I even want to. It's one of those things – kids all play at pokémon training, but barely any of them actually run the League circuit when they turn whatever age. Every kid wants to be an astronaut or whatever, but there's only been like, two astronauts from Galar ever. I think. Pokémon training is… I'm not meant for it. Those playground battles we had with other kids never meant we were going to travel the world doing it seriously. It's just not realistic."

There was something unfamiliar in Laura's weirdly calm voice, but the words didn't mean anything to Salem either way. She didn't understand 'sponsorship' even after many previous explanations. She didn't understand 'permission' or 'astronauts' or 'meant for it'. She didn't understand why Laura didn't care, didn't want this, didn't yearn for their shared adventure the way she always had.
Oh, Salem. She does want it! She's just doing that thing where you psychologically soften the blow of not being able to do something by thinking about how you didn't want it that much anyway and it probably would've been a bother and it was never really realistic!

But of course, Salem is a cat and doesn't understand that. She just sees Laura apparently not wanting to travel with her anymore.

It's won't be up to me. Fuck, nothing ever is…
Typo; should be "It won't be up to me."

Normally, Salem would have lain down by the laptop's fan for warmth, or batted playfully at Laura's fingers, or walked in front of the screen for attention.

But…

'Leave me alone,' Laura had said.

She had never said that before.

So Salem left her alone.
;___;

(Even there, Laura was just agitated about all this, and probably dealing with Salem was extra hard because she didn't want to be leaving her behind. But Salem is a cat. She doesn't understand, and that makes it hurt more.)

"You can complain all you like," huffed Laura. "But you're not going out until it's safe. If you leave the house and never come back, I won't be able to forgive myself."
And then that's exactly what happens. more sadcat

Then one day, with painful quietude, she left. She packed her things, gave Salem a kiss on the forehead, and joined her father in putting her luggage in the car. She kept hoping for a long, heartfelt moment between them, like one of the goodbyes in their movies.

Salem imagined her best and only friend saying 'I won't be long. I'll miss you. Wait for me.'

What she got, before Laura went out of the door for the last time, was "Bye, Salem."
noooooooo

Whole moons had waxed and waned since, but the time between then and now was unimportant.
It occurred to her that the moon had lived two full lives since she'd last eaten a proper meal. Slept on furniture. Been petted.
The former kind of makes it sound like more time has passed than the latter, since it already refers to 'whole moons' in the plural, and then the later scene talks about exactly two; feels a little incongruous.

I love this chapter a lot. The cat POV is so spot-on and it aches; Salem's world revolves so thoroughly around Laura in a way she doesn't quite grasp, and Salem's limited understanding of the human stuff going on makes everything so much more heartbreaking because she doesn't get why Laura is suddenly not going to be her trainer anymore and is going off somewhere else. And through it all it makes it crystal clear how Salem developed the desire to become human, to understand all these things, to be allowed to go places, to be free to do what she wants. (And she's only getting some of this from Perihelion and the morphing process, of course.)

Lovely job, extremely cat, heart broken for this desperate kitty who just wants to go on a journey with her beloved human.


Chapter 5

Dusk laughed. "Pokémon love to fight! Didn't you want to be a League fighter with your Laura? Don't you want to see what morphs are capable of in a battle?"

"No," lied Salem. "I want to only sleep."

"I'll give you my croissants if you come to training with me."

That, tragically, was too powerful an incentive.
Cuuute.

I enjoy the way everyone's answers to what the most powerful weapon is in Whiskey's lesson reflect their characters. Veracity reciting exactly Whiskey's answer from a previous lesson in particular is pretty telling of having been through a training regime where she must do precisely as she is told.

"Why are you so mean to him?" asked Salem, out of pure curiosity.

"He's an idiot," replied Dusk, not looking up from her food. "I don't like that. Being an idiot gets people killed."
Intrigued by whether this is pure Dusk thinking of how things work in the wild or whether she's witnessed some dark stuff at Perihelion.

Bickering had broken out any time someone wanted to use the box, at first. The mightyena, Bramble, deemed it "official" and "human" and therefore inexplicable and best avoided, and several morphs followed his lead. It lasted a tense afternoon, until Dusk started submitting joke requests. She'd made dozens of them, asking for everything from a new battle court inside the canteen, to a delivery service to bring breakfast to her dorm. After that, other morphs felt more comfortable making actual requests.
I like this a lot, Dusk making an effort to normalize it for everyone else with the joke requests.

"Honestly, you two. Whatever it is you're bickering about can go to your counsellors, and if you must beat each other up, you ought to be doing it with supervision. Mike's on duty in the gym. Now, do you really want to fight?"

Sriracha nodded like his head was about to come off. Eliza didn't reply, still staring.

"Right, well, go to your dorms and cool your heads, and if you still want to punch each other, you go find Mike and get him to referee it. Understand?"
Kind of fascinating to see something like this play out with the one intervening going "Sure, you can punch each other, just get a guy to supervise it."

"Ex-League 'mon, huh," she muttered. "Mew's marbles, what a pain."
I guess Alisha is probably not a Mew morph, then :sadbees: (so clearly she's a Ditto)

"You promised me something about my old life before I was Changed," she said, quietly, in a tone of voice Salem hadn't heard from her before. "This is what Salem would ask, if she could ask first. I don't think it will be very hard to find this human. It is not a big thing to ask for. You should agree to do this."
:eyes: I'd forgotten Dusk mentioned Alisha had made a promise to her before the change, interesting.

This one was a quieter chapter and it feels like less happened all in all (or at least less that feels in itself significant) - the most noteworthy bit is of course Alisha returning and promising to try to find Laura. But there's lots of cute flavor going on - Salem and Dusk still enjoying themselves, Salem starting to learn to fight and enjoying it, Dusk reacting badly on reflex when Salem goes for the throat, general hints at Dusk's past. And of course, Sriracha is an entertaining bird, so very simple. I don't find myself having a good grasp on Eliza yet at all, but that'll probably come with time.


Chapter 6

Salem's narration is very characterful, but I really like Laura's voice, and you get some really good turns of phrase in that say a lot:

Her eyes slid off the walls of text as if they’d been greased. Jargon. Buzzwords. Garbage.
Just love this, know the feeling exactly.

She felt the perplexed gaze of Grovyle’s trainer on her, wondering why she was so taken with a pokémon eating food. Of course, he would have seen this countless times. It was only fascinating to Laura because she hadn’t seen shit. It was embarrassing, really.
She has this tendency to just viciously berate herself for the smallest of things and that's what really punches through her anxiety and low self-esteem. Pretty heartbreaking.

A guilty part of her mind wondered if Salem would ever be half as articulate as this.
You'd never guess, Laura.

Laura bit her lip. The most important thing in the world just then was to give this lizard a good answer. She tried: slow, deliberate hand gestures, the ‘flexing/pushing’ motion for strength, indicator signs…

[If I want my partner to be strong, I have to be strong.]

Grovyle nodded, then he stuck his tongue out at her and tipped his head up. Clear approval. Laura’s shoulders untensed in relief.
So determined to make this Grovyle approve of her.

The Grovyle interaction is a lot of fun; shows worldbuilding, characterization for Laura, and the Grovyle himself is a fun bit character. Just a nice little scene.

Howls, she’d be so glad to see Salem.
;__________;

Winter. Of course Salem would run away from home with winter approaching; of course Laura only found out when she returned for Longest Night festivities. That thought, like so many of her passing thoughts, just made it worse. Unless she somehow found her purrloin and made things right in the next week, it would be her first Longest Night in memory spent without Salem on her shoulder, staring down with her eyes enormous at wrapping-paper being torn from boxes.
Such a good little detail about how she usually spends Longest Night with Salem, and really adds to the emotional punch.

Laura's walk is really evocative, a very familiar and authentic emotional progression. This is my fault, maybe Salem chose not to come home because I don't deserve it; no, it's my parents, I trusted them, did they just sell her? Her ways of distracting herself, looking at things in the environment, also feel very true to life and strengthen the sense of how she's feeling in addition to being set dressing.

[Do you speak sign, Kid?]

Laura blinked, unsure if she’d understood correctly. The sign was a sort of ‘pat’ as if patting the head of a smaller being, like the sign for ‘infant’, but followed by a casual flick that made it a friendly moniker… Yeah, Mienshao had definitely called her ‘kid’. She grinned. It had been ages since she’d had a really good conversation in sign.
Enjoy Laura actually liking to be called Kid by this Mienshao, just because it lets her talk to a Pokémon who's really good at signing, who's giving her a nickname.

Mienshao gave her a look that took her aback. [A purrloin?] she asked, using the precise sign for that species – a melding of the signs for ‘tail’ and ‘steal’ with a little hooking motion. Was she offended that Laura had used adjectival signs instead of the sign for ‘purrloin’? That would be fair, really. Mienshao had an expert vocabulary, and Laura should know the sign for her own pokémon…

[Yeah. A purrloin. My best friend. She is… lost.]

Mienshao stared at her. The other pokémon, who had been watching the exchange in quiet attentiveness, had changed their energy. They were tense. Something was wrong. She shouldn’t have said she’d lost her old pokémon. They wouldn’t trust her now. Fuck. Fucking damnit.
Just look at this, the way she interprets even this not as maybe they know Salem but as now they hate me, don't they? This poor girl.

And he knew Salem, and he knew the scent of the woman who’d taken her.
:copyka:

She blinked. She squinted at the message. She briefly considered lobbing her phone straight at the ground and stamping it under her boot until the thousand-thousand hateful messages inside it were nothing but glass splinters and corrupted data.

She put her fingers to the screen, not sure if they shook from cold, anger, or horror.

I’m not coming home.

I’m looking for my fucking pokémon, like you should have done.

For your Longest Night present to me this year, how about you go to hell.
Such a good, cathartic moment after how Laura's parents have been.

The narration and the characterization of it is the highlight here, I think; Laura is so down on herself all the time, and you make it visceral and convincing. She's just so, so mortified about Salem. I desperately want them to reunite.

There's also lots of good worldbuilding about how training works here, though. The shelter scene was a lot of fun, and you still do a really lovely job with how you write people speaking different languages with different levels of articulateness - it's a really unique bit of a flavor on this fic and I admire your knack for it.

All in all, chapter four's still my favorite but this was a really good one as well. Hope to keep up with reviews better from here (and make them in less of a rush!).
 

lichhen

gay
Pronouns
he/they/ze
Partners
  1. metapod-shiny
hola holaaaa i am reading the first chapter and i just want to say thank you for writing this because it's been a very pleasant time

this part made me gasp:

"You don't mean to say that we should teach it disobedience, do you?"

gorgeous prose and filled me with hope:

Fuji thought of the cluster of cells that rested in his lab, the preserved essence of his daughter. When he solved the puzzle of restoring life, there she would be. A child, standing in this world of metal and light.

Also, uuhhhh who is this Auguste Katsura? They are really interesting

"Perhaps. What pokémon wouldn't want to be like us? To be human?"

OH. That is the question of the narrative now!

ooohhh the end of that scene was great. A very fun scene to read, the pacing felt invigorating.

!!! this part:

"Mewtwo," he whispered to himself. "Will you be thankful that we made you the way you are?"

What pokémon wouldn't want to be human? That's what Katsura had said.


oh ship we're already blasting through the first question of the narrative onto this even deeper question yoooo!

thanks again for writing, i'm excited to continue reading
 
Chapter 7: Becoming Human

unrepentantAuthor

A cat that writes stories.
Location
UK
Pronouns
they/she
Partners
  1. purrloin-salem
  2. sneasel-dusk
  3. luz-companion
  4. brisa-companion
  5. meowth-laura
  6. delphox-jesse
  7. mewtwo
  8. zeraora
Author's Note:

This is a particularly important chapter. It contains one of the possible ‘starting points’ for Salem’s story, and though I chose to begin the fic differently, it remains a key moment for her. It also contains our first serious intrigue…

Many thanks to my wonderful beta-readers, and to Hap for your exceptional help with the chapter art.

Chapter-specific CWs:

None.

Chapter Changelog:

Salem’s time at the pokémon shelter, and her recruitment, are different to the previous version of the fic in several ways.


Chapter 7

Becoming Human


Chapter Art 7.jpg

Salem woke from another dream in which she was a human, only to find herself still a purrloin. She stretched, arching her back and quivering her tail, and mewled softly at the twinges in her muscles. She hadn’t survived two months as an urban stray before surrendering herself to the care of the pokémon shelter, but even that long sleeping under cars in freezing temperatures had given her more aches and pains than a cat could count.

She’d drifted off in a dark corner of the shelter storefront, and woken in the pale light of a winter sun. Salem vaulted neatly onto the reception desk to gaze out at it – straining to reach through grey cloud cover, the dawn was too feeble to properly illuminate the bushes and brick walls outside. She watched for a while as the sun struggled to be born.

Nights were long now, but it hardly mattered inside a human place, under electric light even as it grew dark outside. Salem had spent half the night at the front window, staring out at the moon even despite the cold. She had a basket in the back of the shelter, but the other pokémon there were strangers and unpredictable to her. The moon, however, was a constant. She could rely on it to die and be reborn again, to comfort her with its silver light.

Salem drank up the full moon’s silver, watching it touch the car park tarmac outside, the berry bushes that divided it from the road, and the tail of a passing glameow. The moonlight was familiar, even if it fell on new and unfamiliar things.

Behind her, a creak from the staff door and a chirruping call snapped Salem out of her trance. She looked over her shoulder, hackles pricked, and saw a long, lithe creature with cream-and-violet fur, alert eyes, and prominent whiskers. This was Mienshao, the most senior of the shelter’s pokémon staff. She gave Salem a wave with one of her ‘sleeves’ of over-long wrist fur, and signed a friendly admonition. Though the signing was quick, Salem understood the message: [You’d sleep better if you used your basket.]

[YES], she signed back. [I KNOW.]

Mienshao chuckled, covering her mouth with one paw. Then she signed, [I watch this den/dwelling, night and day – at times when humans are absent. However, I care also for pokémon – new pokémon like you, who stay here.]

She was stunningly fluent. Expert paw motions, subtle tilts of ears and tail, casual mastery of accent-signs using whips of her fur sleeves. Far more dexterous than Salem would manage with a lifetime of practice.

[AM OKAY,] she replied, her ears flattening. [NO HELP.]

Mienshao made a chattering vocalisation that might have been laughter, signed something Salem didn’t quite catch, and then went about her tasks for the morning. She put the heating up, turned on the lights, unlocked the front door… Salem's tail thrashed irritably against the reception desk as she anticipated the arrival of the human staff and the noise and distractions that came with them.

Mienshao noticed Salem's sour body language and gave her a kindly look, signing, [You'll be okay. I'll find you some quiet company.]

Salem didn’t really want quiet company, what she wanted was…

Her tail stiffened and her hackles pricked at the thought. She could only think of one alternative to this: being back with Laura. And that was no longer possible. Not any way she knew of, at least. So what did she want?

She didn’t reach an answer before the humans and their racket arrived. Two of them pushed through the front door, setting off its chingling-shaped bell. Salem’s ears flattened back, irritably. She slunk off the reception desk and padded around the storefront’s product stands, scouting for a quiet place to hide as if one might have manifested since she last searched.

"I swear it’s dark except for like, half a dozen hours," grumbled Jamie, the soft-spoken, lanky human who ran the shelter. He ruffled his mousy hair with a free hand and sighed. "Dark when you go to work, dark before you even leave… Daylight savings doesn’t really help anyone, you know?"

Another human, this one restless, female: "Pretty much. Like, four in the afternoon. Yeah, just before four. Longest Night soon, though. Gets brighter by a couple minutes every day after that."

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s a good thing for us, actually. Longest Night’s an adoption hot spot, you know? Lots of kids get their first pokémon around Longest Night. Or New Year’s, you know?”

Longest Night. Salem knew about the traditions on and around the shortest day of the year. Some were acceptable – Laura sneaking her bits of roast meat under the table, getting to bite and shred crinkly wrapping-paper without being scolded – but many were dreadful.

“Sure. Hey, I’ll put the holiday playlist on.”

For instance, the carols. Most music was tolerable noise, but these tended to have jingling sounds, which made Salem want to pounce on non-existent toys, and humans often sang along with them, which was too much noise.

Then, there was the tinsel. Salem stayed clear of the tinsel so long as humans were around. The destruction of tinsel was forbidden, and destruction was all that interested her about it. It glittered, and rustled, and moved like a snake. Of course she wanted to kill it.

Prowling as if on the hunt, Salem turned a corner around a stand of pet toys and treats, and found herself nose-to-nose with a coarse-furred, milky-eyed herdier. He gave her a doggy smile and wuffed in greeting, his wagging tail thumping the ground. He knew better than to get too excitable around a cat, unlike the rest of the shelter’s dog pokémon. Salem had needed to smack one particular rockruff on the nose a number of times already, and yet the pup seemed not to have learnt a thing.

She mewled a greeting. Caesar must be the ‘quiet company’ Mienshao had meant.

Caesar gestured with his head for her to follow him, and he led Salem from the product aisles to an area at one side of the storefront, where soft mats were provided for humans to sit and interact with pokémon they might adopt. Salem growled objectionably – it was too open a space. Nothing to hide behind.

Caesar gave her a canine grin and plodded to a curtain at one end, which he gripped between his teeth and tugged along its rail, until the area was closed off from the rest of the shelter. When he was done, the area felt… safer.

[GOOD?] he barked, cocking his head and perking his tail.

Salem – a little begrudgingly – nodded. It was an improvement. The thick curtain fabric even took the edge off the music playing.

Caesar settled down on one of the mats, his tail thumping steadily. Salem hesitated, then gradually eased herself into a loaf just beside him. The herdier stayed quiet, putting his head down on his paws as if to take a quick nap. After a while, Salem’s own breathing steadied to match Caesar’s, and a little more sunlight braved its way through the overcast sky to warm her fur. Back in the main part of the storefront, Jamie quietly sang along to the carols and occasionally exchanged a few words with Mienshao as she went about her business. Salem caught a word or two about adoption and made an unhappy noise in her throat.

[SAD?] asked Caesar, tilting his head and dropping his ears low.

Salem nodded. [YES.]

[WHY?]

Salem’s ears twitched in frustration, already knowing she couldn’t really explain.

[WANT TO STAY. WANT TO GO.]

Caesar made a little whine that might have been a kind of laughter. [CAT,] he signed, as if that explained everything.

The chiming of the bell on the front door interrupted Salem’s reply, and her ears pricked to hear the chatter between Jamie and the new arrival.

“Good morning! I’m Alisha – the Perihelion rep?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, we were expecting you. Something about a rehab program? Strays rescued, lives changed, and all that?”

‘Rehab’ was an unfamiliar word, but Salem had heard Jamie talk about it once. She got to her feet and poked her head under the curtain to take a look at the visitor. Caesar yawned disinterestedly, but joined her a moment later.

“Close, but not quite! I’ll tell you more about it along with the pokémon, if that’s alright? I hope there’s a good spot for everyone to gather round!”

“Sure, I’ll take you out back, then. Lots of open space! Mienshao, could you let everyone know we’re coming? Thanks, sweetie.”

Many different kinds of humans had come to the shelter, besides its staff. None had been quite like this new stranger. Her appearance wasn’t all that remarkable: a mass of dark hair barely held into a thick ponytail, a suit vest over a collared shirt, and piercing green eyes. What interested Salem was her hands – they signed in fluid motions, even as she spoke in human tongue to Jamie. Not just good signing, great signing, with creative flair. Her attentive gaze flicked regularly between Jamie and Mienshao, who listened closely at Jamie’s side.

“Great, thanks!” [Many thanks!]

“Are you looking to take a certain number of pokémon?”

“Ah, not exactly,” laughed Alisha, still signing. “Maybe nobody, if nobody wants to sign up. Maybe many, if they like my pitch!” [Everyone who asks to may join in. Only if it’s right for them.]

Salem parted her mouth to take in her scent, and caught faint traces of strange and unfamiliar pokémon. This was someone who must regularly spend time with pokémon, and talk to them in sign. Not just to look after them while they waited for a trainer to take them on a journey, but to actually do something…

Caesar cocked her head at Salem. [Interested?] he seemed to ask.

Yes. Very interested.

Caesar made a gesture with his paw that meant see you, and nudged her with his nose. That one meant something like go for it!

Salem went for it. As Jamie led Alisha past Reception and through the staff areas via Intake & Adoption, the purrloin prowled after them.

Jamie liked to tell visitors about the shelter. He’d say things like, “We like to offer them structure, but lots of freedom to do their own thing, you know?”

You know,’ he kept saying. Salem rarely knew. She knew very little, in fact.

Alisha seemed to know. She let him talk, occasionally chiming in to ask about re-homing rates, and if they had many working ‘mon, or misfits with nowhere to go.

‘Re-homing’ wasn’t quite ‘home’ and Salem only knew ‘working’ as Laura’s school books, but she knew ‘misfits’.

Misfits was her.

Salem followed the pair of humans into the shelter’s back yard – which was more like a field or pasture than a piece of garden turf – where the better part of the shelter’s pokémon spent large parts of the day. Some were napping in their favourite shrubbery spots, several were playing an elaborate game of chase around the obstacle course, and a handful were even casually battling atop a rock formation. One of the human staff seemed to be trying in vain to persuade a hulking mudsdale to drink from his water trough and not the ducklett pond. Salem wished her luck.

A few pokémon were waiting near the back door, crowded on the wooden patio around Mienshao, who chirped enthusiastically to call the humans over. Salem barely knew any of the pokémon in the crowd, and only really by species. She slunk past clumsy human feet to take a spot over to the side, by a scrawny-looking eevee.

Alisha waved. “Hey again, you! Is this everyone?”

[Everyone who wants to listen!]

“Ha, okay. Thank you.”

Mienshao signed something Salem couldn’t even follow, vocally chattering as she did, and Alisha replied just as fluently. Full-flow conversation. Like it was nothing. Salem watched them like a statue, trying not to think about how much she wanted that for herself. She was smart for a purrloin – at least, she thought so – but really only enough to realise how much was beyond her grasp. She strained to understand humans, lived on best-guesses and uncertain interpretations. She tried all the time. Tried so hard to get things. And this mienshao understood far more than she did while hardly even trying.

Even if she’d been born as a mienshao, that still wouldn’t be enough.

“Alright, everyone,” called Alisha, gesturing [gather round]. “I’m Alisha.” [My sign name is ‘Whisper’].

Salem practised the name. It was an easy one, a little like hush, a little like talk, and signed very gently. Whisper. A soft, low voice. The name suited her.

“Most pokémon in places like this will go on to partner up with a human,” began the human called [Whisper], in her quiet, clear voice. “If a pokémon isn’t wild, then they live together with humans, don’t they? There are pokémon who are pets and companions, some who work with human partners, and many others, of course, who battle alongside a trainer. But not any of you, right?”

Alisha’s eyes creased a little for an instant. Was that pain, maybe? A wince? Then her smile returned.

“Sometimes a pokémon can find themselves unwilling or unable to return to the wild, but still have no direction to take, in the world of humans. Humans get confused and lost as well, believe me, but it’s different for a pokémon. Harder to search for a different path.”

Salem’s claws pressed hard into the deck beneath her. How many pokémon like her must Alisha have spoken to – listened to – to understand this?

“Most pokémon have the power to change themselves,” she said, using the sign for evolution. “Maybe you’ve dreamed about it. Changing who you are, completely and permanently? It must seem terribly exciting, knowing that if you get strong enough… suddenly, you’ll evolve?

A sullen scrafty nodded. A fletchling chirped a reply. Salem stifled a mewl, thinking of every time she’d seen a liepard on Laura’s TV and wanted to get stronger.

“You know, humans don’t have that power. There’s no bright light when humans become adults. But they are capable of change – slow, gradual, and intentional.”

Alisha signed the final word by fluttering her fingers by her temple. It meant something like [on purpose], and something like [knowing].

Alisha caught Salem’s rapt stare, and grinned.

“Humans get to learn and grow in ways pokémon often don’t. They can figure out their place in the world bit by bit, instead of waiting for a sudden bright light. Maybe that’s what some of you are doing, if life hasn’t fallen into place for you so far. Here’s the thing… I’ve got another way for you. If you want it.”

The fluid, intricate signing continued as Alisha explained.

“I’m here to offer you a place in an experimental training program, one which doesn’t pair you up with a human partner. We call it ‘self-directed pokémon upskilling’ – that’s just a way of saying you get to learn for yourself, in classes, as if you were human kids. We have some teachers who’re human, and some who aren’t. It could be where you figure out what you want to become. It could be a home.”

Somewhere mid-flow, Alisha’s signing stopped translating exactly what she said in Galarish. As she talked about the program, her hands said something different. They said,

[We can give you a new kind of evolution.]

They said,

[Many pokémon wish they were human – to stand tall and speak clearly and understand the world.]

They said,

[That’s what we’re doing, for anyone who wants it.]

Salem could only hear Alisha’s words, and her own crazed heartbeat.

[We can make you human.]

For a moment, Salem felt afraid to breathe. She might wake up.

A sharp, earnest trill burst from her throat, and she found herself signing back, [MAKE ME HUMAN?]

Alisha smiled, and her mouth said, “The courses we offer will treat you more like a human than you’re used to, that’s for sure!”

Her hands said, [Yes, if that’s what you want. You would be part-pokémon, part-human. Both at once. Different to each.]

Salem glanced at Jamie. He was paying more attention to his coworker who was unsuccessfully trying to wrangle the mudsdale. Mienshao wasn’t looking at Alisha’s hands either – a squabble between a pair of nickit had distracted her.

Alisha winked at Salem.

[It will be hard, and scary, and you can’t go back after. But, if you want it enough, it will be worth it.]

“So,” she said aloud, “how would you like to try something new?”

Her hands said, [Do you want to be something new?]

Salem stared, fur on end, mouth half-open. Would she? She could just nod her head, and all that Alisha had told her would come true? She could change, be something better, something close to human? The answer was so strong, so clear, that Salem needed something more than just a ‘yes’. She flung herself forwards, miaowed, and rose up on her hind paws to sign, nearly toppling over.

[PLEASE.]

Alisha chuckled.

“That bad, huh? Think about this carefully. I want you to be very sure, first.” [Slow down. Think first, then choose.]

Salem was already sure. And – as best as she could – she said so. She made hesitant, experimental gestures with her paw, combining signs, inventing something she desperately hoped would be understood.

One paw sweeping across the other. [HUMAN.]

A similar motion, with claws extended. [POKÉMON.]

One paw at her temple then slashing downward. [PERSON.]

What she signed altogether was something like, [I’M HUMAN-POKÉMON. YES, NOW. I’LL GO.]

The effort was tremendous, but Alisha seemed to comprehend perfectly. “You got it, kitten,” she said. “Guess that means you’re coming with me.”

Salem’s lungs released a held breath. She would go with Alisha. Yes.

“Oh, you got a taker?” said Jamie, as he stepped back up onto the deck. “Not all that surprised Purrloin wants to go. She’s an odd one, you know?”

Yes. She did know.

“Well, she’s not the only enthusiastic volunteer I’ve ever had, but she’s up there! Okay – who else is interested?”

In the end, only a handful of pokémon chose to go with Alisha. The scrafty and the fletchling. The scrawny eevee. Salem. Jamie collected their pokéballs – would pokéballs even work on a ‘human-pokémon’? – to hand off to Alisha while she signed papers. Salem, lacking one of her own, was invited to ride shotgun.

She froze in the front doorway, staring at Alisha’s car. A few months ago, she’d watched one take Laura away. Now she would leave the same way.

Caesar’s damp nose bumped Salem’s ear. She flicked it back, and shook herself out of her stupor.

[GOING WITH HER?] he asked.

Salem nodded, trilling softly. The old herdier had been pleasant company, for a dog. She didn’t bat him on the nose for tickling her ear.

[GOODBYE,] signed Caesar. He licked Salem’s cheek and tipped his snout up. [GOOD LUCK].

Salem nodded back, and thought hard. Then carefully, with hesitant paws, she told him, [TELL MY HUMAN. IF MEET HER.]

[I WILL,] he replied.

XxX​

The world whipped past her, fast enough to blur. She stood with her forepaws on the car dashboard and tried to ignore her motion sickness.

Alisha talked to her as she drove, over gentle acoustic radio music.

“I’ve met plenty of pokémon very much like you, kitten. Pokémon who like to talk, even though signing is difficult, and people don’t pay attention, and they can’t think the way humans think. Sound familiar?”

It did. As familiar as hunger, as familiar as the moon.

“Sometimes pokémon like you get this idea that if they want it badly enough, they could just… evolve into a human. Imagine it hard enough, and in a flash, have hands instead of paws. Have you ever had those kinds of thoughts, Purrloin?”

She had to admit she had. She made a soft, rumbling trill.

“I’ve helped a fair few pokémon get that wish already. To be part-human… Hybrids may as well be human as far as I’m concerned. Having the mind and voice of one makes them human enough for me.”

Once again, Alisha allowed Salem to digest the idea. The thought fluttered in her stomach like nothing ever had.

“It’ll be tough, if you don’t back out. The actual change itself is gruelling to go through and there’s no way to reverse it, but it’s a chance to be different, to be better, to have an incredible life. I’d make that choice if I were a pokémon. Would you go for that, Salem?”

She miaowed earnestly, several times for emphasis. Alisha laughed gently and said she wasn’t surprised. All Salem could think of was having a proper voice. A human voice. Alisha just turned the music up on the radio and left Salem to her thoughts. Over the next few hours, as the sky grew darker, and the car took her further from home than she’d ever been, Salem had thoughts like, “Why would you do this for me?” and “What other pokémon have done this?” and “How is this possible?” These were questions she didn’t know how to ask. Alisha answered one for her, at least, between humming along with the radio and pointing out various roadside views.

“I bet you’re wondering how it even happens. Right? Well, it’s a lot like evolution, just slower. Someone found out how to trick a pokémon’s body so that instead of evolving normally, it becomes part-human. I don’t know how it works any more than you do, but it works. It’ll take several days, and put a huge strain on your body, but you’ll sleep through most of it, if you’re lucky.”

Salem already felt lucky. Lucky enough to make up for every scratch and bruise and cold, hungry night. She would do anything, anything at all, for this.

XxX​

Salem lay sprawled out on a cushion in the morph lounge, grinning as Scrafty painstakingly gave his account of his first combat lesson from the sofa opposite her, despite regular interruptions from Fletchling. They’d come out of their tanks on the same day, had gone through recovery together, and evidently meant to learn to fight together, too. Salem had been tracking their progress, partly to make up for not properly tracking her own when she’d been at that stage, and always let them tell her about their latest milestones.

And (sometimes) bragged that she’d definitely been faster than them.

Scrafty rubbed his scalp as he spoke, and stared with a furrowed brow at the lounge aquarium as he concentrated on the words. Perhaps it helped him think – Salem couldn’t look at the fish without spacing out.

“I thought… that battling… would be, uh, easy. Easier. Easier than Galarish speaking. Pokémon battle, all the time. I battled! But it was hard. Harder?”

“New body, new battle,” chirped Fletchling, perched on the arm of the sofa as if she were still an ordinary bird. She tapped a foot with each syllable when she spoke. “Learn all over. Like baby!”

Scrafty swatted at the avian morph without malice, and she gave a whistling laugh.

“No, not like a baby,” he grumbled. “It’s… a new skill.”

Salem nodded, smiling. “I know what you mean,” she said, signing as she spoke, as much out of habit as for Scrafty’s benefit. “Anything you learnt before, it might not be useful as a morph. You didn’t forget anything, you just had to learn new things.”

Scrafty grunted an agreement. “Uhuh. Did you find it harder, Salem?”

She shrugged. It was a good question.

“I didn’t battle much as a purrloin, so, it wasn’t hard in the same way. Just hard like anything is hard.” She tilted her head at Scrafty’s sullen expression. “But once I knew some good tricks, it became fun. Look, watch this!”

She leaned forward on her cushion, held up a paw and flexed it a little, willing her energy to flow. Her pads glowed softly, and a pinprick of midnight-purple shadow coalesced and expanded in her palm. It grew to the size of a pokéball, and then stabilised, rotating like a globe, violet light dancing inside a halo of darkness.

“Practising fun things is hard in a good way,” asserted Salem with a trill in her throat, and her tail high.

“That’s cool cool cool!” said Fletchling, bobbing her head. “Wanna try! Am not allowed to burn-flame in the lounge, though.”

Salem nodded, and wondered whether the risk of scolding was worth encouraging Fletchling to show her a small fireball. Scolding was fine, but actually setting fire to something, not so much.

“You could show me your fire in the gym?” she asked, dissipating her shadow ball to sign more easily.

Fletchling shrugged expansively. She did that a lot – it showed off her remaining plumage. “Can’t can’t can’t! Need to get-have a keycard now. Too many… things.”

“Unsupervised battles,” explained Scrafty. “Too many times gym equipment destroyed. So, new rule. Keycards for morphs who… who are… responsible. Eliza. Veracity.”

Oh, that was right. Salem nonchalantly avoided eye contact. She may have been part of the reason for the new rule.

She imitated Fletchling’s shrug. “I can get Dusk to supervise? She has a keycard.”

Of course, now that keycards were used for more than just staff rooms and offices, it might be worth trying to pilfer one…

The bird morph gave several lively nods. “Scrafty, Scrafty, will you follow-join-come with us?”

The lizard morph fell back against the sofa and groaned. “That’s effort,” he said. “How are you not tired? We each took as long to be morphed. You should be tired as me.”

“Bird, bird, bird, bird!” sang Fletchling, in triumph. “Am bird!”

Salem laughed. She’d apparently handled her several weeks as the ‘youngest’ morph in the facility pretty well, but Fletchling had her own kind of limitless energy. It made a nice change to no longer be the youngest, the most eager, the least articulate. Sometimes she even got to teach her junior morphs a thing or two. Maybe she could persuade Scrafty to come do some training, and show him some moves he might be able to learn from her.

As she lifted a hand to sign, her ears swivelled backward at the sound of the nearest door sliding open. And those footsteps, if her ears weren’t lying, were those of Alisha Renadier.

“—and that’s just not happening, you know? Oh, hey there! Yeah, no, thanks, I appreciate that—”

It was Alisha!

“I’ll be right back,” said Salem, bristling whisker to tailtip with excitement.

She leapt to her feet and swung herself about in one smooth motion. No more aches and wobbles for her, only feline agility! The second the human talking to Alisha peeled off, Salem bounded to the lounge entrance before anyone else could intercept, and skidded to a halt beside her to sign an enthusiastic welcome, trilling as she did.

Alisha beamed at her, leaned casually against the wall, and signed a reply. [Good to see you, kitten. All’s well?] “Hey, Salem. Doing good?”

She nodded. “Yes! Are you? Did you find more pokémon who want to become morphs?” Her ears flattened slightly. “And did you find Laura?”

Alisha sighed, and shook her head, her tied-back mass of hair swaying with the motion. She beckoned Salem away from the doorway and over to a corner of the lounge. “Sorry, sweetie. There’ll be new faces here soon enough, but I didn’t have any better luck tracking down your girl than last time.”

Salem held a miserable growl in her chest, and her tail dropped down, swishing unhappily. “What does that mean? Is she lost? Will you find her next time?”

Alisha made a sympathetic face and signed [Sorry – it’ll be okay]. “I really don’t know, Salem. I’m sorry, I’ve just not got a lot to go off of, you know? A first name, a limited description, and a home town that could be Circhester or any of a dozen outlying villages…”

Salem fought down a yowl and nodded miserably. “I can tell you more things I remember. Or you can ask me about the different places, to find out which is the right one. You said you’d find her.”

Alisha hesitated and bit her lip. “Salem, I said I’d try. I did tell you I couldn’t promise I’d actually find her.”

“Then try harder,” said Salem, more forcefully than she’d meant to.

Alisha winced.

Salem’s tail thrashed and her ears pinned back further. There was a yowl trapped in her throat and it had blocked all her words from getting out. Her hands could still move. They moved.

[She was my trainer. Don’t you care about this?]

Alisha stiffened and looked away, her expression hard to read.

“You… you have no idea how much I care,” she said, softly. “I told you I’d try; I’ve been trying. What you don’t seem to realise is that I have to do things properly. The hard way. I can’t just be irresponsible and make big eyes at my bosses to get away with it, Salem.”

Then, in sign, [Do you know why nobody got in trouble over that mess in the gym? I was looking out for you. When you pull stunts like that, it makes it harder for me to look for your trainer, alright?]

Salem blinked. Her shoulders sagged. Had she made it harder for Alisha to find Laura? It had been Alisha who’d given each wing of the morph dorms a lecture about safe move practice around equipment. She’d probably been the one to manage the keycard thing, too – she’d given Dusk her keycard, at least. And all the time spent handling that… was time not spent looking for Laura.

The stifled yowl became a quiet wail, and then a small, damp sob.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

If Alisha was signing anything, Salem didn’t see it.

“Am sorr-ee,” she said, struggling to form proper words around her feelings.

Alisha reached out and put a hand on Salem’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I’ll keep looking. Just as soon as I’ve got some time to spare, I’ll head straight to my office and keep looking into it. I promise, it’s not left my desk since you asked me about it.”

Salem nodded, miaowed something phonetically similar to ‘thank you’, and went in for a hug. Alisha made a little surprised noise, but accepted it, carefully put her arms around Salem, and hugged her back.

Salem stayed like that for a moment, wrestling with more feelings than she could handle all at once, and difficult, unfamiliar thoughts. If Alisha couldn’t find Laura on her own, then Salem needed to look for her herself. She didn’t even know how to begin. She imagined Alisha in her office, staring at a laptop like Laura’s, typing, interpreting words and images. Salem hadn’t taken any lessons in that, yet. But she was good at learning by experimentation. And she’d started Galarish literacy…

After a minute or two, Alisha pulled back from the hug, and sighed sympathetically. “I know it’s hard, missing your trainer. You must worry about her. There’s nothing wrong with that. Just… try to understand that some things take time, okay?”

Salem nodded. “Oh-kay.” She sounded like she’d forgotten how to speak, but it was just her throat closing up around her upset. “Oh-kay. Okay.”

Alisha signed a quick [Catch you later,] with an affectionate flair. “I gotta get going, Salem. Induction for those new faces, remember?”

“Okay.” [See ya.]

Salem watched Alisha pace off towards the medical wing. Only when the doors swung shut after her did Salem bring her tail curving back round in front of her. The hook at the end of her tail held a lanyard, from which a shiny new keycard dangled, temptingly. She batted at it, smirked, and took it, to pass it between each finger on one hand, as if she were knuckle rolling a coin.

How long before Alisha noticed it was gone? Long enough. Probably.

XxX​

Nobody to the left. Nobody to the right. Only Salem, ears perked and eyes wide, came or went in the cross-corridor that connected the eastern wings of the building. She pressed an ear to the door to the block of staff offices. No footsteps. Good. The keycard slid in easily enough. Figuring out how to orient it to get a red flash, and then time the retrieval to get a green flash, took a moment longer.

The door opened smoothly to reveal another empty corridor, lined with doors. No staff. She’d have bolted if so – she hadn’t come up with a good excuse to be there that wasn’t against the rules. Not that breaking them really mattered, but it would interrupt her investigation if she were caught. Inconvenient!

Salem was fairly certain which office belonged to Alisha from the couple of progress reviews she’d done with her. Those were fun. She’d basically gotten to brag about all her successes for several minutes straight. Such as her nascent literacy, which told her… Capital ‘A’ for A-lisha, capital ‘R’ for R-enadier… This was Alisha’s office.

The keycard worked, at least. She slipped inside – this was the room as she’d remembered it. Wooden panelling, some bookshelves, a frosted window overlooking the building’s central atrium. Framed certificates and photos on one wall. Plenty of potted plants. And Alisha’s desk, which the search apparently had not left since Salem asked about Laura.

Salem hopped into Alisha’s mesh desk chair and squeaked at its surprising bounciness. Then, she tapped experimentally at the laptop. The screen lit up, making her blink and draw back.

A login screen.

Tap, clack, clack-a-clack, tap tap tap.

Incorrect.

She really didn’t know why she’d even tried that.

Salem turned her attention to the other items on the desk’s surface. Lamp, stationery, loose hair, miscellaneous human objects she didn’t know… She pulled out a drawer, and found a slim black container. She popped it open… Huh. She didn’t know Alisha wore glasses. And, of course, there was paper. Loose sheets, a full in-tray, a couple of books, some folders full of paper… One of the deeper desk drawers contained dozens of similar folders.

Salem scratched behind her ear, growling quietly to herself. What had she expected, actually? That she’d come in and find a big pile of pictures of humans and search through it until she found the right one? That she could just type ‘find Laura trainer smart nice green eyes’ and the laptop would put her on the screen at once?

Salem kicked herself away from the desk and spun slowly as the chair swivelled around. She felt stupid. Naive. She could learn a hundred things a day, every day for a year, and she still wouldn’t have a grip on the world. It was too massive. Too complex. Too difficult. She’d gotten mad at Alisha for taking too long, but she didn’t have the faintest idea what looking for Laura actually meant.

On the other paw, the Salem who’d paced aimlessly around the pokémon shelter wouldn’t have thought to even try. Let alone been able to make requests in Galarish, steal a keycard even while badly upset… and consider just how different Alisha’s life was from hers. How different any life was from hers, really. Becoming human – part-human, hybrid, pokémorph, whatever – didn’t mean automatic understanding.

It did mean being able to understand, though. Able to learn. And sometimes, to invent. She turned back to the piles of paper. She might not be good at reading, yet, but even if she couldn’t find anything here, it counted as practice, didn’t it?

Some of it was absolutely incomprehensible – words she didn’t know, about topics she didn’t understand, like budget, and press release. There was no release button on the paper to press! Meaningless! The book seemed to be a story about a human who studied pokémon culture: fascinating, but irrelevant. The first folder she examined, though, contained something meaningful.

G2-SHP-037 / Sriracha

And there, printed on the page, was a photo of the blaziken himself, un-morphed. Pinned next to it with a paperclip was a more recent one, of Sriracha wearing his uniform. Salem skimmed the page for words she knew. There was information here about him, about his health, his background…

If each folder was for a morph, then perhaps there’d be one for her.

Salem glanced at the front page of each folder, finding some morphs she recognised – Scrafty, Fletchling – and others she didn’t. And there, over on the other side of the desk, was her own.

G2-SHP-054 / Salem

It was odd, seeing a photo of her un-morphed self, next to one of her post-Change, smiling and making a ‘V’ sign with one hand. She’d been so small. And she’d looked so anxious. She touched the page, and brushed the image. Her stomach felt… peculiar.

She skimmed the text below.

‘…Salem is recommended for courses in low profile operations. As her existing proficiency in pokésign (GPSL) is superior to average signing skill in domestic purrloin…’

She had no idea her sign was better than other purrloin. Her tailtip quivered with pride. She flicked through some more pages, finding tables of numbers she had no idea how to interpret, information about purrloin behaviour and biology she wholly disregarded, and—

Oh.

Something… unexpected, fixed with a paperclip to a page near the back.

Salem frowned, blinked, looked again. Looked harder. She batted the page with her hand, in case it was some trick of the light.

It was not.

She read the text below. Her eyes narrowed. Her tail thumped against the chair until her hook stuck itself in the mesh. She pulled her tail free with a growl, and gripped it above the hook as she read.

She read, but she didn’t understand.

Carefully, Salem tugged the small, laminated piece of paper out of the folder, and, after staring at it a moment longer with her tail at full-brush, she placed it gingerly in her pocket. And thought about what to do next.

She had to show Dusk.

XxX​

Blood thumped in her ears and sang in her limbs. Dusk ducked and weaved, jabbed, jumped back and flipped. She flung ice shards before she even landed, spraying her opponent with a hail of jagged edges and loose mist. Of course, Eliza was demon-fast with those gallade blades of hers. Not a scratch.

“Too repetitive,” remarked Eliza. If it had been an insult, Dusk could have shot back in turn, but it was just an observation. Factual. She grunted ambivalently. Alright, she’d try something new.

Dusk flung out a pulse of darkness, and while Eliza’s eyes glowed magenta with the effort of dispelling the attack, Dusk sent a wave of damp chill rolling across the battle court, freezing it over all smooth and slippery…

Or at least, that had been the plan. Eliza was lighter on her feet than Dusk had realised, and didn’t seem at all affected.

“An interesting tactic,” said the gallade-morph.

Dusk shrugged and went in for another flurry of attacks. She mixed in a few amateur blows with the expert strikes, hoping to get lucky against Eliza’s defences. Not quite, not quite…

In the middle of the melee, a compact shadow ball impacted against Eliza’s face, and Dusk lunged, instantly, while her guard was compromised.

“Gotcha,” she panted. Then, brow furrowing, “Don’t know how, though.”

Eliza got to her feet like a flower facing the sun, all elegance and poise. “You took advantage of your friend’s intervention,” she said, dryly. “Please tell her not to do that again. She could just ask us to pause the fight.”

Salem tittered to herself on the side of the court. “That wouldn’t be fun, though.”

Dusk shrugged, and gave a lopsided grin. “She’s not wrong.”

Eliza rolled her eyes theatrically – for Dusk’s benefit, more than because she was actually annoyed. “Alright, I’ll give you two troublemakers the room. Good sparring, Dusk. Your technique improves by the day.”

“Cheers,” said Dusk, signing [Seeya, loser!] and grinning ear to ear with delight when Eliza signed [Go fuck yourself] back. She was so much more fun to spar with now she played along with the banter. Sneasel fights always had good banter. Not letting it get under your skin was part of training!

She turned to her underhanded purrloin friend and beamed even wider. “Nice one, Salem. What’s up? Come find me for a reason?”

Salem nodded, still looking anxiously after Eliza. When the gallade-morph was out of sight, she met Dusk’s eyes. She looked…

…hurt.

“Salem?”

Salem’s ears flattened back. “You said you’d have my back. Promise? Make a promise you can’t break.”

“…What?” Dusk frowned, her own ears mimicking Salem’s.

“I need to trust you,” said Salem, helplessly. As if she’d been wounded.

“You can trust me,” said Dusk, mentally searching for an explanation. Had Veracity said something fucked up to Salem? Or Whiskey, maybe? “Salem, what the fuck is wrong? You got me worried.”

Salem nodded. She had the look of someone about to dive into rapids for the first time. That wasn’t like her.

“I found something. I found something that means… the humans don’t always tell us the truth. So I need to trust you. I need you to help me.”

Dusk narrowed her eyes and held Salem by the shoulders, hoping to steady her. “Humans and pokémon and morphs all lie sometimes,” she said, carefully. “Some lie all the time. Some are just stupid and it makes them wrong. Like the birds. Remember what we talked about?”

Salem nodded impatiently. “Yes, I know, people say wrong things because they actually believe them and sometimes it’s because they are dumb and sometimes it’s because they are mean. I know, I know. This is different.”

Dusk sucked teeth for a second. Salem could get agitated by stuff, but she wasn’t stupid, and she learnt crazy-fast.

“Explain it to me. I… I’ll take it serious. Promise you.”

Salem nodded, tail still whipping back and forth, but her ears, at least, perked up.

“Okay. You remember I asked Alisha to find Laura?”

“Yeah. Told you to. And… She didn’t find her?”

Salem looked stricken. “No. Yes? She said she didn’t find her. She told me. But…”

The purrloin-morph reached into her pocket and withdrew something tiny. Hesitantly, she offered it up, hardly letting go even as Dusk took hold of it.

It was a photograph of a human girl, maybe a young woman. Long, dark hair. Sad, tired eyes. Bright green, like Salem’s eyes.

“I found this in her office,” said Salem, in a low voice. “In the papers about me.”

“You went into Alisha’s office?” asked Dusk, unsure if she was more shocked or impressed.

“Yes. Look, though. Dusk, look at the words.”

Dusk squinted at the text below the image, printed in a tiny font. It said…

“…Laura Weir.”
 

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  1. leafeon
It's a post about chapter 7

She could learn a hundred things a day, every day for a year, and she still wouldn’t have a grip on the world. It was too massive. Too complex. Too difficult.

A lot of humans feel this way too. I think this idea is going to hit harder as the story goes on and she realizes the mess she's gotten into.

Speaking of which, the revelation at the end of the chapter (which I saw coming like halfway through the office scene, but I don't suppose that's really a mark against the story) is going to get Salem questioning Perihelion earlier than expected.

‘…Salem is recommended for courses in low profile operations. As her existing proficiency in pokésign (GPSL) is superior to average signing skill in domestic purrloin…’

I wonder if there will be a delayed revelation about the possible meaning of "low profile operations." I suppose Salem will have to learn more first. By then she might have forgotten.

I'm wondering what Perihelion's plan is for keeping the morphs compliant. So far Perihelion's been pretty nice, but at some point, a morph is going to want to get out from under their thumb. What happens then? Maybe I already said this in a previous review?

She watched for a while as the sun struggled to be born[...]The moon, however, was a constant. She could rely on it to die and be reborn again, to comfort her with its silver light.

I think this was the only rough spot I had with the prose in this chapter. I interpreted the sun's struggle for birth as parallel to Salem's pending rebirth. But I wasn't sure why this metaphor was repeated with the moon.

The answer was so strong, so clear, that Salem needed something more than just a ‘yes’. She flung herself forwards, miaowed, and rose up on her hind paws to sign, nearly toppling over.

She's standing on two legs like a human.

On the other paw, the Salem who’d paced aimlessly around the pokémon shelter wouldn’t have thought to even try. Let alone been able to make requests in Galarish, steal a keycard even while badly upset… and consider just how different Alisha’s life was from hers. How different any life was from hers, really. Becoming human – part-human, hybrid, pokémorph, whatever – didn’t mean automatic understanding.

I feel like I kind of just have to take her word for it here—pre-transformation, I don't think Salem seemed that much less intelligent based on narration. She's smart enough to recognize Alisha's deception, looking around to see if anyone is watching, and she does sort of speculate about what Alisha's life might have been like:

How many pokémon like her must Alisha have spoken to – listened to – to understand this?

While it's not as deep as her later thoughts, it didn't require Alisha to prompt her with a guilt-trip. I think it's clear that post-transformation Salem is a better communicator, but some of that is because of physical changes (speech and more articulable limbs/digits).

I like your handling of pokesign. For good reason, not every sign is described, but those that are make sense. The fact that the sign for pokemon is similar to the sign for human but with claws extended suggests to me a perception of pokemon as like humans but more savage. Maybe there's a history there. Who knows? And I liked this description:

Expert paw motions, subtle tilts of ears and tail, casual mastery of accent-signs using whips of her fur sleeves.

Even among pokemon, Salem can't help but feel inferior :(

I enjoyed this chapter overall. Salem's unique perspective shows strongly in your narration. I look forward to Dusk and Salem sneaking around and slowly uncovering the truth of Perihelion or whatever actually happens.

Random thought, but I wonder, if Salem ever had to choose between becoming human and reuniting with Laura for good, which she would pick.
 
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