Pokémon PMD: Crux of the Self

[Truebrush]

Chapter 15: Okuizome​

“My name is Devon Stafford, and I was born in America.”

The humans of Halfhenge gathered in the kitchen, now filled with the scent of hot soup. Fei manned the kettle above the fireplace, his back on the rest of the group. Jun sat at the table, his journal open, as Wyn transcribed his report from his most recent venture into English.

Slowking and Von sat at opposite ends of the table. The guildmaster had a journal in front of him, and his quill moved of its own accord, scratching far more words than Von had said onto the page. While Slowking’s eyes were on his writing, he motioned for him to continue.

Von took a deep breath before he continued on. “I went to a public school. Art was my subject of choice, I guess. I’m no scientist, I don’t know how much help I’ll be as a Researcher trying to unravel the physics of Dungeons, but if it helps get me home, I’ll do what I can.”

Slowking looked up from his notes. “Don’t be so quick to downplay your pool of knowledge, Salandit.” He tapped a claw to his chin. “Fei has told me of documentaries, of stories captured on film and spread to the masses. This was your art, yes? Such a skill is most welcome among Researchers.”

“But I don’t have a camera.”

“You have a journal,” Wyn interrupted, looking up from her own work. “We can get you as many as you need. Writing’s not as fun as waving a camera around, but journalistic principles are the same, yeh?”

“We do like to document everything around here,” Fei spoke up from the fireplace.

“I guess just tracking observations is ‘sciencey’ enough,” Von mused. “Are we married to the conspiracy board system, or can we build a filing cabinet?”

Wyn splayed her ears. “Come on, how else am I going to feel like I’m trying to solve a murder?”

“It’s served us well enough,” Jun growled.

“Before we stray further from the topic,” Slowking rumbled, “The matter of what you wish to do with your time here is ultimately up to you, Salandit. Whether or not you pursue your documentaries, there are many paths open to you still. Braixen had no Earthen experience in alchemy before her arrival, yet she excels at it now.”

Wyn swelled with pride. “To be fair, I had a bit of experience playing Atelier.”

Nerd. “Different Research teams go on different types of missions, right?” Von spared a glance at Jun. The both of them had been avoiding eye contact ever since they took their seats in the kitchen. The Lucario quickly busied himself flipping through journal pages. “Like Free Aim are scouts or something, right? True Path trailblaze new Dungeons?”

Slowking’s smile widened. “Every team delves Dungeons from time to time, but yes, everyone plays to their strengths. Assigning yourself a project to work on outside of Dungeon delving won’t just grant you focus, but benefit us all. Halfhenge would not be what it is if it weren’t for every team working toward our greater good.”

“What did Night Vision do before their exile? I’m trying to think of either of them doing science, and it’s making me a little scared.”

“They would mark caves on our maps. They found a fair amount of shortcuts through the Zeal Range for us, in fact. But such a position has been filled by Star Calling.”

“Sounds claustrophobic, anyway,” Von sighed.

Wyn dipped her quill into her inkwell. “What is it you want to do? You don’t need to come up with something right now, of course. Just think about it for the future, yeh?”

“Sure, I’ll consult with Night Vision, maybe they’ve got an idea.”

Slowking clicked his tongue. “This should be your passion, Salandit. It is expected for a human to take charge of their team.” Von caught a glimpse of Jun rolling his eyes. “Night Vision- especially Zorua- has already demonstrated he was not fit to lead. They were allowed back only because of you.”

“If I may interrupt,” Fei spoke in a low hoot, “Food is ready. Before you taste, you should know that we have to substitute many ingredients, so nothing I make here can truly replicate authentic Earthen cuisine.” Fei ladled a portion of food into a bowl before he fished around for a few more chunks of vegetable to spoon on top of the helping, before he placed it on the table before Halfhenge’s newest resident.

The sauce had the consistency of curry and was tinged a hearty orange. Pumpkin and mushroom took the center stage of the dish, and the steam that rose from it carried a spicy sweet aroma. Von hadn’t had a freshly prepared home-cooked meal in what felt like years, and now he salivated with anticipation. “This smells amazing.”

“Thank you,” Fei chirped. “I hope it’s to your liking.” He took up another bowl, filled it near to the brim, and placed it before Jun.

Von watched Jun lift the bowl in his paws and take a delicate sip. His remembrance of struggling to drink tea gave him only a brief pause, as his hunger overpowered any residual sense of shame. He lowered his head, and lapped from the bowl. A warmth flowed through him, one that oozed of subtle spice, dense with flavor. He lifted his snout to simply sit with the taste of it on his tongue, to feel the richness on his palate. He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal since he fled Oregon, and the simple bowl of vegetables stewed in creamy sauce had him blinking away tears.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he blurted out.

“Now you are being too polite,” Fei chided as he slid a bowl in front of Wyn once she slid her journals out of the way.

Not about to admit to the hardships of living out of his car, Von shook his head and corrected course. “Never underestimate the depravity of the American dorm room. The only cooking skill I’ve honed is how to operate a microwave.” He then realized, perhaps too late, that Slowking’s quill never stopped scratching away at his journal. “Whoah, wait wait wait, you’re not writing this down, are you?”

“Cultural norms between humans are of particular interest to me,” the guildmaster hummed. “Do Americans not teach their offspring how to cook?”

“Look, it’s complicated. Depends on where you’re born, when you’re born- especially after we got rid of home ec classes, but that’s a whole different subject.”

“Regardless, I would be curious to see your attempt at American cuisine. It is the universal language of Earth, yes?”

Von looked into the bowl before him once more. “I can try, but I promise it’ll pale in comparison.”

Fei brought another bowl to Jun, who reached out to accept it with a nod of thanks. “I would be happy for some company in the kitchen,” he trilled.

Wyn flicked an ear and growled. “I keep offering, but no!”

Fei sighed and shook his head. Perplexed, Von looked between the two of them. “Because you work with chemicals all day?”

The owl blinked at him. “Because she is British.”

Von winced. “Oh, right.”

“Oh come on,” Wyn scoffed. “I can’t even escape these jokes in a world without internet.”

Fei waved her off with a wing. “I need only the fond memory of our first attempt at Sichuan. For one that breathes fire, you don’t eat it much.”

“My mum’s from Bangalore, birdbrain! You think I grew up only on jellied eels?” At first Von flinched at the raised volume of her yipping, but by the grin she bore, he hoped perhaps such banter was a playful common occurrence.

At this point, Slowking’s quill stopped moving. It rest in his inkwell as he busied himself with a portion of soup. Jun similarly kept himself out of the verbal fray, sipping broth from his bowl.

Looking between the bickering pair, Von found reading the emotions of the Braixen a far easier task than reading into the face of a Decidueye. Facial expressions appeared almost nonexistent on avians, only a subtle shifting around the eyes giving anything away. A beak is too rigid to smile with, and Fei had no brow to crease. Eyelids were the easiest indicator of emotion outside of the pitch of his vocalizations, but the trick he would have to learn is parsing ruffled feathers.

“Importing cups of instant ramen does not count as a teaching tool,” Fei spoke, and swiftly ducked as the cork of Wyn’s inkwell whizzed over his head.

“Says the guy that ate only garbage through his 20’s!” Wyn fumed.

Fei plucked the cork from the floor and tossed it back to the fox. “Tasty garbage. Garbage with fresh ingredients, garbage I spent time and effort on. That is where the flavor comes from.”

Wyn snatched the cork out of the air and set it beside her inkwell. “I put plenty of effort into boiling water,” she muttered.

Slowking cleared his throat. “Ahem- If Salandit and I may continue?” His quill once more hovered over the page, quavering in the air with anticipation.

“Don’t mind us,” chirped Fei as he finally sat at the table with a bowl of his own.

Von carefully plucked a chunk of what he thought was stewed tomato from his bowl before he felt the eyes of everyone else in the room settle on him. “Oh, uh- before I reveal the secrets of nuclear physics or whatever, what’s your goal here? What’s got you fixated on Earth?”

“Is the pursuit of knowledge not a noble one? You come from a faraway place, full of sights I couldn’t even begin to imagine. If Earth has solved many of the problems we face through technological advancement, should we not ease our lives through these solutions you humans have already found?”

“I just don’t know if our solutions were the right ones. We came up with central heating, sure, but we also set our world on fire.”

“A mistake we won’t repeat here,” Wyn spoke through a muzzle full of mushroom. She paused just long enough to chew and swallow before she continued, “We’re all free to withhold what we deem too high-risk. Keep all your blueprints for manufacturing guns to yourself. Think more ‘this is how we preserve food.’”

“Other than chemicals?” Von frowned. “I guess the U.S.’ best attempt would be canning everything.”

Slowking’s quill took off darting across the page. “Then please, do share what you know of canning.”

---

With the humans of Halfhenge called to Slowking’s court, the rest of Halfhenge congregated in the hall for their own feast. A gentle fog pooled over the cool waters of the lake, and wisps of mist curled over the stone floor, lapping at the heels of hungry Pokemon tucking into their stores of food.

“Hey Frogadier! It’s been some time. I see you’ve earned a few ranks!” Kaia barked and wagged her tail as she stood between an old acquaintance and the bin of carrots the amphibian was trying to get to.

“Indeed, Rockruff,” croaked the frog, and once again Ren caught the brunt of wary glances. “Swift as the mountain current, Stealth Mission ascends. But I must go.” She circled around the excitable dog to reach her prize, and turned her back on the conversation. She bit into a carrot as she slipped between another conversing pair of Pokemon.

Kaia cocked her head as she watched her leave. “Huh. She used to be so talkative.”

“Pokemon change,” Ren offered despite the sinking feeling in his gut. “Besides, it sounds like Slowking’s been keeping the scouts busy.”

“This wants no pestering of scouts,” came the voice of wind rushing through leaves. Arboliva stooped a branch to pour oil from one of their fruits, refilling a small wooden trough. An awaiting Meowstic dipped a mushroom into it, and purred his thanks to the tree.

Both Ren and Kaia craned their necks to look up at Arboliva. “Saff, is that you? You’re so much taller now!” Kaia grinned.

“This thanks Rockruff,” came their curt reply. Their dinner duty done, they ambled away on their roots, leaving the pair in shocked silence.

“D-did they forget my true name?” Kaia whimpered to her mate.

Ren frowned and rubbed his cheek to hers as he tried to formulate an explanation. Anything other than admitting that his mere presence cost her her friends.

Meowstic spoke up before he could. “Living in the wilds should have sharpened your wits, not dull them. You should’ve realized by now how wary the whole guild is of you.”

Ren paced forwards, hackles raised. “Test my sharpness all you want, but don’t you dare speak to my mate like that!”

Meowstic calmly licked oil from his paw. “You especially, Zorua, making a return was enough of a test of your wits. I’m not impressed.”

“We’re not here to impress anyone!” Kaia snapped. “And Ren is as clever as they come!”

Meowstic smirked as the angered duo loomed forward. “Then he should know he made a mistake coming back.”

“What else were we supposed to do with a human? Keep him in the Cay?”

Meowstic sneered and fixed Ren with a glare. “Simply send the human on its way, before you bring a cave down on his head, too-” a half-eaten peach fell from above, landing squarely between his ears. The wet, soft thump elicited a spray of juice that stained the tuft of white fur upon his head.

For several moments, he and Ren stared at one another, the cat’s expression twisting livid, while Ren struggled to choke down an eruption of laughter.

“Sorry,” squeaked a voice from above. Both parties turned their faces upwards and saw Noibat hanging upside-down from the ceiling. He gave a timid wave in apology to the feline. “I dropped my food. Sorry about your fur.”

Meowstic snarled and reached a paw to the flattened peach on the floor. Psychic energy flashed in its eyes, and obeying his will, the flattened fruit rose from the floor. It hung in the air, tethered by Meowstic’s psychic energy.

Before he could throw it, however, the floating fruit was snatched out of the air by a black and white blur. Linoone held the peach in her jaws, and bit down, pulping it with a grin. “Don’t waste food, Kyrryk! Shameful, shameful,” she directed toward her partner on the ceiling, before turning a glare toward Meowstic. “Almost as bad as starting a battle within the walls.”

Meowstic hissed, his fur on end. “Dungeon take you, Linoone! You weren’t here, Star Calling! You weren’t here when Charizard died!”

Noibat released his grip from the ceiling and fell away. He unfurled his wings, caught his fall, and fluttered down to land beside his partner. “Again Meowstic, it was an accident, and I am sorry. I would wash the juice from your fur before it dries and mats.”

Meowstic glowered at the bat, then shot Ren another dirty look. He stalked away, muttering curses under his breath.

Ren stared after the cat, and only after Meowstic left the hall did he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thanks, you two.”

Noibat plucked a carrot from the nearby bin. “For what? It was an accident.”

“Braixen has taught us of the concept named ‘plausible deniability.’ Kyrryk has gotten much use, much use of late.”

Beside Ren, Kaia shook with nerves. “That- that cad! If he wants a battle so bad, I will happily pound him beneath the foundation!”

Linoone licked at the peach juice that dribbled from her muzzle. “Good, good. I would love to bear witness.”

Noibat eyed both girls warily, and sidled closer to Ren. “Zorua, are you well?” he whispered.

Ren put on a practiced smile. “Just peachy!” A quick glance at the crowd of silent observers, faces full of trepidation, told him all he needed to know. “Everything is fine! Everything is fine. Look how friendly everyone else is being, giving us space.”

“Ren, I’m starting to think they’re avoiding us,” Kaia whined.

Star Calling shared a worried glance. “Perhaps consider practicing discretion,” Noibat offered, “until you regain complete trust?”

Ren looked away, his eyes off over the lake. “Do you trust us?”

“The human brigand killed Charizard, not you, not you. That is what is written down, that is what we believe,” churred Linoone.

“As for trust, I would give it another mission or two run together,” chittered Noibat. “While it’s clear you don’t mean harm, that does not exclude harm entirely.”

Ren’s muzzle drew into a grin. He had an in. “It’s a start.”

---

Von found his friends on the dock jutting into the lake, leaning against one another as they gazed at the waxing moon. “We’ve been given homework,” he announced as he scuttled up behind them.
Ren looked over his shoulder. “Homework?”

Von met Ren’s questioning eyes. “We’re coming up with a new research project. Hopefully something a little less physically demanding than caving.”

“Aw, but caves are fun!” Kaia turned away from Ren and trotted up to Von, nails clicking against the rough wooden dock. “There’s so many rocks to play with, and you can hear them all around you.”

Ren followed after her, snickering. “Poor ventilation, though. Think of having to squeeze through a chokepoint with a Salandit tail in your face.”

“These jokes never get old, and I laugh every time,” Von hissed with as much exasperation as he could muster. “It’s been a long day, so I was gonna head upstairs. Don’t mean to interrupt your stargazing.”

Kaia brushed her flank to his as she passed. “I had my fill of stars every night in the Cay. The company of the living is far more fun!”

Ren brushed against his other side as he strode after his mate. “I’m with her. Keep being alive, Von! You’re funnier than ghosts.”

Von blinked in confusion before he turned to follow. Through the hallway, up the stairs, beneath long shadows and over smooth stone, Halfhenge caught the cold night air within itself. With the livelier residents returned to their huts in the courtyard, the castle held a quiet energy, save for the whispers of movement in the roost on the floor above them.

Night Vision met with a pleasant surprise. The wooden doors to the oratory ever propped open now framed a large curtain of orange fabric, the same sunset shade of orange as the scarf around Von’s neck.

“Leavanny did this in a day?” gasped Kaia, who rushed forward to bury her face against it. “It’s so soft!”

Ren gave the corner a cautious sniff. “How many flowers did she eat for this much dye?”

Von ducked through the curtain, and shivered at the sensation of it brushing against the scales on his back. “A modicum of privacy, finally.” The oratory was certainly darker for it, but in the moonlight that trickled through the sole window, he made another discovery.

Folded gently on each of the small straw beds waited pale gray blankets. He eagerly strode toward his nest and rest a claw atop it. Silken thread wove together into the softest fabric he’d ever felt on Earth. With curious delight, he crawled into the straw and unfurled the gift, only to clumsily roll himself into a burrito. With only his snout poking out of one end and the tip of his tail out the other, he found himself smiling at the sense of warmth it brought him.

Ren snuck beneath the curtain and made a double-take at the tubelike lizard. “Kaia, there’s a Metapod in our room!”

“Really?!” came a bark of excitement, and she burst through the silk, only to find the world’s most comfortable Salandit. “Oh, it’s just Von again.”

“Sorry to disappoint. You’ll see me hatch into a beautiful Butterfree tomorrow morning, though.”

“No I won’t, it’s too cold. You won’t evolve until summer.”

While Kaia and Ren settled down into their beds, Von wiggled until he poked his head out of his cocoon. He lay on his back, his eyes on the inky infinite night sky beyond the window, and for a mere split second, felt as if he were home.