Hey all! This is that "malamarfic" that I've been talking about in the Discord. I know I said that I'd post it tomorrow, but I realized that I actually wanted to make my Blitz self-promotion post as soon as possible, and for that, it would be better if I had the link to this thread.
With that out of the way: what's this story about? Well, it's about Clarisse, a Kalosian Pokémon counselor with psychic abilities, getting a new client: an ill-behaving Malamar kept in a Pokémon rehabilitation facility. Things, of course, later take a turn as the staff of the facility mysteriously changes and their leader has an unusual offer for Clarisse.
Content warnings for this story include "animal" abuse (they are Pokémon, so not exactly the same thing), gun violence, mind control, moderate profanity and some heavy themes such as police brutality. Overall, I would say the story is rated T.
As of the completion of the first draft, this story is six parts long and around 18,000 words in total. I will be posting a chapter every few days to spread it out over the Blitz.
That's it for the Author's Notes. Enjoy the story!
It was pouring when Clarisse arrived at the Fourrage Pokémon Rehabilitation Facility.
She parked her car in the lot outside the main building, hoping she hadn't accidentally picked a spot reserved for employees only. Or did she fall into that category? They had hired her.
She levitated her bag and umbrella into her hands and tried her best not to get wet as she exited the vehicle. Droplets bombarded the canopy of her umbrella as she made her way to the entrance of the red brick building. Just a few steps away, she heard a splash and looked down. Dirty water had already stained her boots.
No, it's fine, she told herself. They'll understand. It's the weather, not me. I haven't done anything wrong.
She took a deep breath and let it out. She stepped underneath the roof's overhang and shook her umbrella as dry as she could before folding it and entering.
"Oh, it's raining poliwag out there, ain't it?"
Clarisse looked up. A reception desk. And a receptionist. A middle aged woman. Her tone sounded friendly. Clarisse calmed down just a little.
"Yes, it is," Clarisse said, loud enough to be heard but quietly enough to show she was no trouble. She stepped up to the desk. "Um, I'm here about the malamar."
"Ah, you're the psychic, then?"
Despite the receptionist's inoffensive tone, Clarisse tensed up. "Yes. Clarisse Thibault."
"ID, please."
Clarisse nodded, dug out her ID and presented it.
"Any pokémon to report?" the receptionist asked, checking the ID.
"One sableye."
The receptionist raised a brow, and Clarisse's heart beat faster. "Sableye? Should I worry for my wedding ring?"
Clarisse quickly shook her head. "No. Quartz is well-trained and well-fed."
The receptionist flashed a smile. "Oh, no need to be so nervous, darling. I was only joking." She typed something on her keyboard, then emerged from behind the desk. She pointed at the hat rack in the corner of the room. "Just leave your coat there, and I'll take you to where you're needed.
Clarisse nodded and took off her trench coat, intending to levitate it over the distance, but then stopped. Should she be showing her powers like that? The receptionist already knew she was a psychic, but…
Maybe it was better to do it the normal way. She walked over and placed her coat, scarf and beret on the rack. Just like a regular person, no one to be alarmed about.
After that, the receptionist took her deeper into the building. They passed by hallways that Clarisse could spot glass-walled enclosures in, but she couldn't catch a glimpse of any pokémon. But, then again, she supposed she wasn't here for them, so she shouldn't try to sightsee.
Most of the doors were windowed, but once they passed under a sign reading ISOLATION, the doors became metallic. She became consciously aware of the higher level of danger within these walls, but that was anxiety she was much better at managing. Quartz was with her, Quartz could protect her against unruly mon. What Quartz couldn't protect her from was guns.
An unpleasant memory surfaced, and Clarisse worked to suppress it. Why did that mental image have to stick with her so? She hadn't even witnessed it. She only remembered being told, and her mind had done the rest.
Well, she supposed it only made her careful. And careful was good.
The receptionist made a turn in the hallway, and so did Clarisse. Behind the corner, there were four men in grayish-green uniforms. And guns on their belts. Okay. Clarisse would just have to deal with it.
One of the men, a chubby older gentleman with a beard, smiled and stepped forth. "Morning!" he said. "You must be Ms Thibault." He extended a hand. "Jean Bourbeau, the manager of the isolation ward. It's a pleasure."
Clarisse took his hand and shook it. His robust grip was a stark contrast to her dainty one, but it seemed only genial. "It's a pleasure as well," she said.
"I'll be the one in charge of making sure you get what you need," Mr Bourbeau said. "Give me a shout if anything's lacking, or talk to these fellas." He pointed to the other men, who nodded. "They'll get back to me."
Clarisse nodded. "Of course." She had to admit that her reception so far had been a lot friendlier than she'd expected. Or feared.
"Alright, let's go see Kraken, then," Mr Bourbeau said and headed deeper into the hallway. "Kraken's his name. And, well, you might just see why that fits."
Clarisse didn't press Mr Bourbeau further. She'd already expected to be facing something less than cuddly.
Clarisse followed Mr Bourbeau past several enclosures with mon. One had an arbok sleeping on a dog bed, another had a bored-looking mawile playing with a toy meant for toddlers, another yet had a noivern pacing around and stopping to hiss at the passersby, which made Clarisse flinch. These mon didn't seem very happy… but then again, they'd ended up in here because of bad behavior, hadn't they?
Finally, they stopped at an enclosure with a rather large malamar. The malamar stood on his fins in the corner, his tentacles undulating and his yellow-eyed stare unyielding. Clarisse noted that there was nothing there aside from the squid - no bedding, no food or water bowls, no enrichment. Just white walls lined with that same aura-insulating glass that the front was made of. Clarisse wanted to ask about this, ask why they'd deprived the mon of so much, but she knew some questions weren't welcome with government people and decided not to risk it.
"So," Mr Bourbeau began, "did they tell you the story behind this guy?"
"To an extent," Clarisse said. "Former trained inkay. Upon evolution, went on the run and used his hypnotic powers to make different people let him stay in their houses and eat his fill. Do I have that right?"
"Pretty much," Mr Bourbeau said. He turned to one of the other men. "Émile? Get her the amulet."
Émile, the thinnest and tallest of the group, nodded and walked over to a box on the wall which he opened with a key. He produced two personal psychic insulator devices - colloquially called amulets by people that worked with them due to their necklace-like shape and function - and handed one to Clarisse while looping the other around his own neck.
But this would make things difficult.
Clarisse gathered up all her courage to talk back.
"Um, excuse me," she said, "but I believe this will prevent me from communicating with Kraken telepathically."
"Oh, you're a telepath, too," Mr Bourbeau said, scratching his beard. "But, regardless, we can't let you go in there without one. Not with how strong the squid's hypnotic powers are."
Clarisse wanted to tell the man that she'd been top of her class in mind control resistance at Lumiose Academy of Extrasensorics, but perhaps she'd argued against them enough already. She would just have to rely on Quartz to communicate with Kraken. "Understood."
She put on the device. Immediately, it became quieter inside her brain as the passive psychic presences of the other men were no longer perceptible.
"Alright. You ready to go in?" Mr Bourbeau asked.
"Yes."
Mr Bourbeau nodded, and Émile stepped towards the door next to the enclosure to unlock and open it. It connected a see-through antechamber to the enclosure whose walls were the same kind of insulated glass. Clarisse supposed this sort of architecture was necessary for safety.
Clarisse stepped through the door, and Émile closed it behind her before opening the second one. Clarisse proceeded through that as well, and Émile closed it, staying with her in the enclosure.
This might make Kraken less receptive, thought Clarisse, but shook the thought. She would make it work.
The malamar hadn't moved while the two had entered, only glancing between Clarisse and Émile and the gun on the latter's belt. Clarisse stopped roughly two meters away from the squid and brought a gentle, albeit performative, smile onto her lips.
"Hello, Kraken," she said. "How are you today?"
Kraken only stared, not that she would have understood his answer very well anyway. Clarisse figured it was the thought that counted.
Clarisse pondered for a moment what she would try next, and then remembered what she had in her bag. "Maybe you'd like something to eat," she said, digging into the bag.
"Uh…" Émile began. "Be careful. He might use any objects you give him to attack."
"I'll be careful," Clarisse said. She then produced a green plastic container with chunks of veluza flesh within. She stepped forward and placed it on the floor, then stepped back. "Here you go."
Kraken eyed Clarisse, then the container. He lifted it telekinetically, stared at it for a moment and then --
On reflex, Clarisse blocked the container flung at her face with a telekinetic barrier. It thunked against the translucent pink sheet and landed back on the floor.
"Hey!" Émile shouted at Kraken, his hand on his gun. Clarisse's heart jumped to her throat.
"Oh, no, no, no, there's no need for that," she got out. "He didn't even throw it very hard."
Émile gave her a glance, then Kraken. "Alright, then," he muttered, leaving his gun alone.
Clarisse sighed in relief. She then crouched to pick up the container on the floor. Well, at least it didn't open. That would have been a mess.
She put the container back into her bag and searched for Quartz's pokéball. "Maybe you're just not a fan of humans," she said. "In that case, I have someone you can talk to."
She found the ball, drew it out and released the mon inside. A dark gray, almost black, sableye materialized before her. The malamar's eyes widened slightly and he let out a short groan of disapproval.
"I know ghost types can make you psychics uncomfortable… us psychics, even," Clarisse said, "but Quartz is very nice. Aren't you, Quartz?"
Quartz opened his sharp-toothed mouth and chittered at Clarisse. He then turned to Kraken and chittered some more. Clarisse was in tune with Quartz enough to know this meant something along the lines of 'Hello! I am Rock-Crystal. Nice to meet you!''
Kraken huffed, turning his gaze back to Clarisse.
"Quartz is also a rehabilitated mon," Clarisse said. "He's a rescue from a gem farm. He knows what it's like to be locked up and afraid."
Kraken made a noise that almost sounded like a 'ha'. Clarisse presumed he was too proud to admit to being afraid.
"Would you like to tell Quartz what made you do the things you did?" she asked. "Escaping your trainer, mind controlling those people to give you food?"
Kraken made some groaning noises to Quartz, and Quartz chittered back at Clarisse. 'He says he does not need to justify anything to you.'
"Oh, but it would help, wouldn't it?" Clarisse said. "The sooner you tell me why you were behaving the way you were, the sooner we can work things out, and the sooner you'll be out of here. You can go to the sea if you want to. Plenty of fresh fish and crustaceans there."
Kraken groaned again, and Quartz relayed the message. 'Food is not what he craves.'
"What do you crave, then?"
Kraken smirked darkly and growled, and Quartz spoke for him. 'Power.'
Clarisse froze, but then regained her composure. "What do you need that power for?"
The malamar raised his chin and narrowed his eyes, saying nothing.
Clarisse turned to Émile. "Has he talked about this before?"
"Yeah. That's all that we can get out of him, really. He just wants power, apparently."
"Hmm." Clarisse glanced at Kraken. "Well, no one wants power without a reason."
"Could just be that he wants the power to do as he pleases. Though it feels like he already got to do that?"
"Well, he's captured now, so maybe he wants to be so powerful that even the law can't stop him."
"Mm."
Clarisse turned to the malamar. "It can be nice to get to do what you want, but everything we do affects others. And we need to respect each other's boundaries so that everyone can live in peace."
Another laugh-like vocalization. Clarisse supposed Kraken wasn't too concerned with others. She'd heard this could often be the case for malamar, but her studies at the Academy had taught her that they could still learn to see things differently as long as the benefits of cooperation were explained to them well enough. She knew, then, how she should proceed. While she wasn't fully sure it would work for this individual, she owed it to him and society to try.
"It'll certainly be easier for you, too, to compromise," Clarisse continued. "You've already seen what happens when you act with aggression. The law exists to make sure those people don't hurt others, and that's the reason you're contained here."
The law should exist for that reason alone, but of course, the truth was a bit more complicated. She would know. Her brother certainly had before his demise.
Kraken made a face as if he was getting bored. He groaned a response that Quartz relayed again. 'He says he has already said everything he wants to say, and that you can leave.'
"I'm not leaving quite yet," Clarisse said. "Our hour's barely started. Now, you can stand there and say nothing, but wouldn't it be much nicer to talk to us? I doubt you get many visitors."
Kraken didn't seem like he was paying attention, just staring past them with a half-lidded gaze.
"Kraken?" Clarisse prodded. No change.
Émile stepped forward, chest puffed out. "Answer her."
Clarisse raised her hands. "A-ah, that's okay. He doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to."
Émile gave the woman a look, then stepped back again. "Alright," he said, "but if he dawdles too much, ten sessions might not be enough."
And you'll have to hire me for longer, Clarisse filled in. Of course, this was not her motivation for letting Kraken take his time. It was simply how she'd been trained.
"I'm sure he'll come around soon," Clarisse said. "We just have to be patient."
"Mm. I hope you're right."
Clarisse nodded. She glanced at Quartz, who shrugged. The woman took some time to think of her next approach.
"Alright," she said. "If you don't want to talk about what you did after you evolved, how about before that? What were you like as an inkay?"
Kraken hadn't said anything for the rest of the session. Not a peep. Just held that bored gaze with the occasional stink-eye.
Clarisse had already begun to worry that the guards would think her unqualified and call off the contract, but then they saw her off with a 'see you next week', drawing a sigh of relief from the woman. With her container of veluza collected, Quartz recalled and amulet returned, she headed home to her apartment.
She made herself some pasta with the veluza Kraken had refused - it was still good, right? It certainly tasted alright while she ate it, Quartz munching on his gravel in the background. After this, she made sure all her socials were in order, and then… budgeting.
The long process confirmed what she'd anticipated: barely scraping by. She had then made the right choice in forcing herself to accept a job from government people. Every client counted. Especially now that they were so few and far between…
She couldn't understand why. She'd invested a decent amount of time and money in her socials and website, so they should look just fine. Was it because of what she was? Were people - regular everyday people - really unable to see past their paranoia when it came to psychics?
She sighed. Maybe she should just take it easy for the rest of the day. Watch some videos. Couldn't watch streaming services, no, she'd had to nix those little luxuries. Well. She supposed there was always piracy, but just the thought of committing any crime, no matter how minor or harmless…
She didn't want to go like César had.
So she found herself a video of an espurr playing with yarn and pressed play.
---
With that out of the way: what's this story about? Well, it's about Clarisse, a Kalosian Pokémon counselor with psychic abilities, getting a new client: an ill-behaving Malamar kept in a Pokémon rehabilitation facility. Things, of course, later take a turn as the staff of the facility mysteriously changes and their leader has an unusual offer for Clarisse.
Content warnings for this story include "animal" abuse (they are Pokémon, so not exactly the same thing), gun violence, mind control, moderate profanity and some heavy themes such as police brutality. Overall, I would say the story is rated T.
As of the completion of the first draft, this story is six parts long and around 18,000 words in total. I will be posting a chapter every few days to spread it out over the Blitz.
That's it for the Author's Notes. Enjoy the story!
---
KRAKEN'S GRASP
by canisaries
---
Part One
---
KRAKEN'S GRASP
by canisaries
---
Part One
---
It was pouring when Clarisse arrived at the Fourrage Pokémon Rehabilitation Facility.
She parked her car in the lot outside the main building, hoping she hadn't accidentally picked a spot reserved for employees only. Or did she fall into that category? They had hired her.
She levitated her bag and umbrella into her hands and tried her best not to get wet as she exited the vehicle. Droplets bombarded the canopy of her umbrella as she made her way to the entrance of the red brick building. Just a few steps away, she heard a splash and looked down. Dirty water had already stained her boots.
No, it's fine, she told herself. They'll understand. It's the weather, not me. I haven't done anything wrong.
She took a deep breath and let it out. She stepped underneath the roof's overhang and shook her umbrella as dry as she could before folding it and entering.
"Oh, it's raining poliwag out there, ain't it?"
Clarisse looked up. A reception desk. And a receptionist. A middle aged woman. Her tone sounded friendly. Clarisse calmed down just a little.
"Yes, it is," Clarisse said, loud enough to be heard but quietly enough to show she was no trouble. She stepped up to the desk. "Um, I'm here about the malamar."
"Ah, you're the psychic, then?"
Despite the receptionist's inoffensive tone, Clarisse tensed up. "Yes. Clarisse Thibault."
"ID, please."
Clarisse nodded, dug out her ID and presented it.
"Any pokémon to report?" the receptionist asked, checking the ID.
"One sableye."
The receptionist raised a brow, and Clarisse's heart beat faster. "Sableye? Should I worry for my wedding ring?"
Clarisse quickly shook her head. "No. Quartz is well-trained and well-fed."
The receptionist flashed a smile. "Oh, no need to be so nervous, darling. I was only joking." She typed something on her keyboard, then emerged from behind the desk. She pointed at the hat rack in the corner of the room. "Just leave your coat there, and I'll take you to where you're needed.
Clarisse nodded and took off her trench coat, intending to levitate it over the distance, but then stopped. Should she be showing her powers like that? The receptionist already knew she was a psychic, but…
Maybe it was better to do it the normal way. She walked over and placed her coat, scarf and beret on the rack. Just like a regular person, no one to be alarmed about.
After that, the receptionist took her deeper into the building. They passed by hallways that Clarisse could spot glass-walled enclosures in, but she couldn't catch a glimpse of any pokémon. But, then again, she supposed she wasn't here for them, so she shouldn't try to sightsee.
Most of the doors were windowed, but once they passed under a sign reading ISOLATION, the doors became metallic. She became consciously aware of the higher level of danger within these walls, but that was anxiety she was much better at managing. Quartz was with her, Quartz could protect her against unruly mon. What Quartz couldn't protect her from was guns.
An unpleasant memory surfaced, and Clarisse worked to suppress it. Why did that mental image have to stick with her so? She hadn't even witnessed it. She only remembered being told, and her mind had done the rest.
Well, she supposed it only made her careful. And careful was good.
The receptionist made a turn in the hallway, and so did Clarisse. Behind the corner, there were four men in grayish-green uniforms. And guns on their belts. Okay. Clarisse would just have to deal with it.
One of the men, a chubby older gentleman with a beard, smiled and stepped forth. "Morning!" he said. "You must be Ms Thibault." He extended a hand. "Jean Bourbeau, the manager of the isolation ward. It's a pleasure."
Clarisse took his hand and shook it. His robust grip was a stark contrast to her dainty one, but it seemed only genial. "It's a pleasure as well," she said.
"I'll be the one in charge of making sure you get what you need," Mr Bourbeau said. "Give me a shout if anything's lacking, or talk to these fellas." He pointed to the other men, who nodded. "They'll get back to me."
Clarisse nodded. "Of course." She had to admit that her reception so far had been a lot friendlier than she'd expected. Or feared.
"Alright, let's go see Kraken, then," Mr Bourbeau said and headed deeper into the hallway. "Kraken's his name. And, well, you might just see why that fits."
Clarisse didn't press Mr Bourbeau further. She'd already expected to be facing something less than cuddly.
Clarisse followed Mr Bourbeau past several enclosures with mon. One had an arbok sleeping on a dog bed, another had a bored-looking mawile playing with a toy meant for toddlers, another yet had a noivern pacing around and stopping to hiss at the passersby, which made Clarisse flinch. These mon didn't seem very happy… but then again, they'd ended up in here because of bad behavior, hadn't they?
Finally, they stopped at an enclosure with a rather large malamar. The malamar stood on his fins in the corner, his tentacles undulating and his yellow-eyed stare unyielding. Clarisse noted that there was nothing there aside from the squid - no bedding, no food or water bowls, no enrichment. Just white walls lined with that same aura-insulating glass that the front was made of. Clarisse wanted to ask about this, ask why they'd deprived the mon of so much, but she knew some questions weren't welcome with government people and decided not to risk it.
"So," Mr Bourbeau began, "did they tell you the story behind this guy?"
"To an extent," Clarisse said. "Former trained inkay. Upon evolution, went on the run and used his hypnotic powers to make different people let him stay in their houses and eat his fill. Do I have that right?"
"Pretty much," Mr Bourbeau said. He turned to one of the other men. "Émile? Get her the amulet."
Émile, the thinnest and tallest of the group, nodded and walked over to a box on the wall which he opened with a key. He produced two personal psychic insulator devices - colloquially called amulets by people that worked with them due to their necklace-like shape and function - and handed one to Clarisse while looping the other around his own neck.
But this would make things difficult.
Clarisse gathered up all her courage to talk back.
"Um, excuse me," she said, "but I believe this will prevent me from communicating with Kraken telepathically."
"Oh, you're a telepath, too," Mr Bourbeau said, scratching his beard. "But, regardless, we can't let you go in there without one. Not with how strong the squid's hypnotic powers are."
Clarisse wanted to tell the man that she'd been top of her class in mind control resistance at Lumiose Academy of Extrasensorics, but perhaps she'd argued against them enough already. She would just have to rely on Quartz to communicate with Kraken. "Understood."
She put on the device. Immediately, it became quieter inside her brain as the passive psychic presences of the other men were no longer perceptible.
"Alright. You ready to go in?" Mr Bourbeau asked.
"Yes."
Mr Bourbeau nodded, and Émile stepped towards the door next to the enclosure to unlock and open it. It connected a see-through antechamber to the enclosure whose walls were the same kind of insulated glass. Clarisse supposed this sort of architecture was necessary for safety.
Clarisse stepped through the door, and Émile closed it behind her before opening the second one. Clarisse proceeded through that as well, and Émile closed it, staying with her in the enclosure.
This might make Kraken less receptive, thought Clarisse, but shook the thought. She would make it work.
The malamar hadn't moved while the two had entered, only glancing between Clarisse and Émile and the gun on the latter's belt. Clarisse stopped roughly two meters away from the squid and brought a gentle, albeit performative, smile onto her lips.
"Hello, Kraken," she said. "How are you today?"
Kraken only stared, not that she would have understood his answer very well anyway. Clarisse figured it was the thought that counted.
Clarisse pondered for a moment what she would try next, and then remembered what she had in her bag. "Maybe you'd like something to eat," she said, digging into the bag.
"Uh…" Émile began. "Be careful. He might use any objects you give him to attack."
"I'll be careful," Clarisse said. She then produced a green plastic container with chunks of veluza flesh within. She stepped forward and placed it on the floor, then stepped back. "Here you go."
Kraken eyed Clarisse, then the container. He lifted it telekinetically, stared at it for a moment and then --
On reflex, Clarisse blocked the container flung at her face with a telekinetic barrier. It thunked against the translucent pink sheet and landed back on the floor.
"Hey!" Émile shouted at Kraken, his hand on his gun. Clarisse's heart jumped to her throat.
"Oh, no, no, no, there's no need for that," she got out. "He didn't even throw it very hard."
Émile gave her a glance, then Kraken. "Alright, then," he muttered, leaving his gun alone.
Clarisse sighed in relief. She then crouched to pick up the container on the floor. Well, at least it didn't open. That would have been a mess.
She put the container back into her bag and searched for Quartz's pokéball. "Maybe you're just not a fan of humans," she said. "In that case, I have someone you can talk to."
She found the ball, drew it out and released the mon inside. A dark gray, almost black, sableye materialized before her. The malamar's eyes widened slightly and he let out a short groan of disapproval.
"I know ghost types can make you psychics uncomfortable… us psychics, even," Clarisse said, "but Quartz is very nice. Aren't you, Quartz?"
Quartz opened his sharp-toothed mouth and chittered at Clarisse. He then turned to Kraken and chittered some more. Clarisse was in tune with Quartz enough to know this meant something along the lines of 'Hello! I am Rock-Crystal. Nice to meet you!''
Kraken huffed, turning his gaze back to Clarisse.
"Quartz is also a rehabilitated mon," Clarisse said. "He's a rescue from a gem farm. He knows what it's like to be locked up and afraid."
Kraken made a noise that almost sounded like a 'ha'. Clarisse presumed he was too proud to admit to being afraid.
"Would you like to tell Quartz what made you do the things you did?" she asked. "Escaping your trainer, mind controlling those people to give you food?"
Kraken made some groaning noises to Quartz, and Quartz chittered back at Clarisse. 'He says he does not need to justify anything to you.'
"Oh, but it would help, wouldn't it?" Clarisse said. "The sooner you tell me why you were behaving the way you were, the sooner we can work things out, and the sooner you'll be out of here. You can go to the sea if you want to. Plenty of fresh fish and crustaceans there."
Kraken groaned again, and Quartz relayed the message. 'Food is not what he craves.'
"What do you crave, then?"
Kraken smirked darkly and growled, and Quartz spoke for him. 'Power.'
Clarisse froze, but then regained her composure. "What do you need that power for?"
The malamar raised his chin and narrowed his eyes, saying nothing.
Clarisse turned to Émile. "Has he talked about this before?"
"Yeah. That's all that we can get out of him, really. He just wants power, apparently."
"Hmm." Clarisse glanced at Kraken. "Well, no one wants power without a reason."
"Could just be that he wants the power to do as he pleases. Though it feels like he already got to do that?"
"Well, he's captured now, so maybe he wants to be so powerful that even the law can't stop him."
"Mm."
Clarisse turned to the malamar. "It can be nice to get to do what you want, but everything we do affects others. And we need to respect each other's boundaries so that everyone can live in peace."
Another laugh-like vocalization. Clarisse supposed Kraken wasn't too concerned with others. She'd heard this could often be the case for malamar, but her studies at the Academy had taught her that they could still learn to see things differently as long as the benefits of cooperation were explained to them well enough. She knew, then, how she should proceed. While she wasn't fully sure it would work for this individual, she owed it to him and society to try.
"It'll certainly be easier for you, too, to compromise," Clarisse continued. "You've already seen what happens when you act with aggression. The law exists to make sure those people don't hurt others, and that's the reason you're contained here."
The law should exist for that reason alone, but of course, the truth was a bit more complicated. She would know. Her brother certainly had before his demise.
Kraken made a face as if he was getting bored. He groaned a response that Quartz relayed again. 'He says he has already said everything he wants to say, and that you can leave.'
"I'm not leaving quite yet," Clarisse said. "Our hour's barely started. Now, you can stand there and say nothing, but wouldn't it be much nicer to talk to us? I doubt you get many visitors."
Kraken didn't seem like he was paying attention, just staring past them with a half-lidded gaze.
"Kraken?" Clarisse prodded. No change.
Émile stepped forward, chest puffed out. "Answer her."
Clarisse raised her hands. "A-ah, that's okay. He doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to."
Émile gave the woman a look, then stepped back again. "Alright," he said, "but if he dawdles too much, ten sessions might not be enough."
And you'll have to hire me for longer, Clarisse filled in. Of course, this was not her motivation for letting Kraken take his time. It was simply how she'd been trained.
"I'm sure he'll come around soon," Clarisse said. "We just have to be patient."
"Mm. I hope you're right."
Clarisse nodded. She glanced at Quartz, who shrugged. The woman took some time to think of her next approach.
"Alright," she said. "If you don't want to talk about what you did after you evolved, how about before that? What were you like as an inkay?"
---
Kraken hadn't said anything for the rest of the session. Not a peep. Just held that bored gaze with the occasional stink-eye.
Clarisse had already begun to worry that the guards would think her unqualified and call off the contract, but then they saw her off with a 'see you next week', drawing a sigh of relief from the woman. With her container of veluza collected, Quartz recalled and amulet returned, she headed home to her apartment.
She made herself some pasta with the veluza Kraken had refused - it was still good, right? It certainly tasted alright while she ate it, Quartz munching on his gravel in the background. After this, she made sure all her socials were in order, and then… budgeting.
The long process confirmed what she'd anticipated: barely scraping by. She had then made the right choice in forcing herself to accept a job from government people. Every client counted. Especially now that they were so few and far between…
She couldn't understand why. She'd invested a decent amount of time and money in her socials and website, so they should look just fine. Was it because of what she was? Were people - regular everyday people - really unable to see past their paranoia when it came to psychics?
She sighed. Maybe she should just take it easy for the rest of the day. Watch some videos. Couldn't watch streaming services, no, she'd had to nix those little luxuries. Well. She supposed there was always piracy, but just the thought of committing any crime, no matter how minor or harmless…
She didn't want to go like César had.
So she found herself a video of an espurr playing with yarn and pressed play.
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