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Chapters 6 and 7

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 6: Spiraling Down
Mathew was never a fan of fancy meals — it just wasn’t his style. To him, these sorts of lavish establishments were more of a celebratory place, one of those restaurants your coworkers dragged you to after a job well-done and you never went back again. But if that was the kind of place Meowth was currently dragging him off to after their workday at Asulaguah Beach, he was certainly not going to complain.

The two-story, red-bricked building before them was pleasant, though not the most eye catching. Past those windows, Mathew could see cloth-covered tables, a bright red checkered floor, waiters running about, families calmly eating… Wait, was that a dish of pasta on that bidoof’s table?

The cubone’s eyes danced from one plate to the next. Alfredo, ravioli, spaghetti, breadsticks, every table was eating something similar. What the hell? That’s Italian food! “Since when was Olive Garden on Solceus…?” he muttered to himself.

Meowth stopped walking, tilting his head in confusion. “Olive garden?”

Shit. “Uuuhh…” Would Meowth know if Mathew tried to explain a food chain that only existed on Earth? He decided not to take chances. “I was just saying I bet…I’ll-live this meal…?”

It didn’t make sense. Mathew’s pun didn’t make any sense and both of them knew it. Mathew just grinned awkwardly, pretending that he had made a meaningful joke, hoping Meowth would accept a reality where that was true.

Miraculously, Meowth just shook his head and took the lead. “You have a strange sense of humor.”

Off to a great start… Mathew thought as he followed the gray cat. He was glad that somebody had so kindly promised him a place to speak his mind, but when their lives were literal worlds apart, navigating conversation wasn’t easy.

As they made for the doors, Mathew looked up and thoroughly studied the restaurant’s name, hoping to commit it to memory and purge any combination of olives or gardens. The sign that hung above it read ‘Silvalla’s: Protect Your Town, Protect Your Appetite!

“Protect your what?” Mathew whispered. This time, he asked Meowth directly. “What does that slogan even mean?”

“Silvalla’s the owner of this restaurant, and he’s also the owner of the Kalmwa’er Service Guild,” Meowth explained as a spherical, hedgehog-like waiter came to direct them to a table for two. “Apparently, this restaurant is one of the ways they fund the staff to take care of the town and deal with outside threats. Trust me, the food is better than the slogan.”

The two passed by tables populated by several smaller pokemon. An igglybuff and a tiny joltik sat on miniature chairs as they ate at the miniature table. Their quilladin waiter, Mathew guessed, led them to the back of the restaurant, where the tables were wider and the ceiling was higher.

“What kind of drinks can I get you?” the quilladin asked.

“Coca c—” Mathew had to bite his tongue to stop himself. “Do you have sodas?”

“Yeah!” the quilladin said cheerfully. “We’ve got Bubblim, Cheruya, Dragnroud…”

“If you’ve not tried it before, I’d recommend Dragnroud,” Meowth advised. “It’s not the most fancy soda, but it has a nice taste.”

“It does sound pretty badass…” Mathew turned to the quilladin. “I’ll take that.”

“Gotcha!” Then the quilladin was upon Meowth, waiting in anticipation. “And you will have…?”

“Water,” Meowth said.

“Ah, the boring one! I get you,” he joked as he left the table, leaving them to their menus. Meowth didn’t react to the tease at all, at least not visibly.

Mathew grabbed the plastic menu and began reading the…what the heck?! All of these food names were Italian, too! How was that possible when everything he had read up to now was English? Was there some kind of Poké-Italy out there he wasn’t aware of, where they invented the Poké-pizza? Where had they even learned to make cheese, anyway? Did the miltanks milk themselves and discover it, or was there some cheese pokémon out there he wasn’t aware of?

“You look confused.”

Mathew shook out his tirade of internal questions. “Sorry. The food names are just, uh, something, is all.”

Meowth nodded, looking down at his menu. “The story is that a human introduced this kind of cuisine a few hundred years ago. The weird names are in some foreign language.”

“Huh, that makes—” Mathew had to do a double-take. “I’m sorry, what?”

Meowth’s eyes rose from his menu in a flash. “Have you not heard of them?”

“Nope,” he lied, avoiding eye contact with him.

Thankfully, he didn’t press any further, returning to the menu. “It’s been happening for a long time. Every century or so, somebody shows up from this other world — called ‘Earth’. They tend to leave some kind of lasting impact here. Sometimes they remain until they die, sometimes they find a way home.”

“And you know about this…how?”

“A class in Higher Ed. Basically any educational institution would mention it in their recent history curriculum.”

Mathew had never been more happy for their waiter to arrive with drinks and a plate of garlic bread. The strange tension Mathew suddenly felt eased as soon as their table was populated. Meowth slurped away at the drink, then took a nibble at the crust of one of the delicacies.

Mathew, on the other hand, stared at the container the quilladin had delivered his soda in. “This is a bowl.”

“And? You want your drink on a plate?” Meowth asked.

“No, I wanted it in a…” This time, Mathew stopped himself. Glasses and cups wouldn’t accommodate for all kinds of pokémon, so it made a bit of sense that they’d opt for bowls instead. “Nevermind.” Mathew lifted the bowl to his — splash. He had shoved the bowl of fizzy sweetness straight into his snout. He lurched back, Dragnroud dripping from it. “Ack, damn it!” he gasped, then took a thick napkin to his skull mark. He took it more slowly this time, raising it up to his mouth and taking careful swigs.

Meowth was bemused by the class-act he was presenting right now. Mathew knew it looked bad — this should all come naturally to him. “You really are an unusual one, Mathew.” Bizarrely, he bit into his garlic bread from the side, getting right to the chessy innards. “I’m surprised you can insert color contacts into your eyes if you can’t recognize your own snout.”

Mathew figured it’d be better to avoid that line and turn the conversation towards what they had came here for. “Yeah, well, my whole life’s been pretty unusual recently.”

“I’ve noticed. You got up excessively early this morning,” Meowth remarked. “Why are they working you so intensely?”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t really know myself.” Mathew took another swig out of his bowl, hoping he didn’t look like he was lying out of his teeth. “There’s a lot of weird things going on with the place. Like, I don’t even know who runs the company yet! I get keeping shit in the dark, but man, they might as well be the void of space sometimes.” The cubone shook his head, realizing he was getting sidetracked with this tangent. SEAS wasn’t what he really wanted to discuss, anyway. “So, long story short, they really aren’t helping what I’m going through right now, and that’s why I need you to lend an ear.”

Meowth nodded quickly. “It sounds like this ‘SEAS’ company acts pretty unfairly to you. What is it, exactly, that they have you and Joey doing?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you that.” He wasn’t interested in telling Meowth that he had been quietly NDA’d since it’d only get them more off-topic. “I mean, you know what they say…”

Meowth looked at him blankly as he finished off his garlic bread. “I don’t really know what ‘they’ say, actually.”

“Uh, curiosity killed the cat? Have you never heard of that?”

“Curiosity did what to the cat?” Meowth’s expression intensified. “What are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing! It’s just a saying!” he exclaimed. To calm himself down, he grabbed one of the pieces of garlic bread and wolfed the entire thing down his mouth. Chewing on the crunchy crust was therapeutic enough to satisfy him. “Anyways, none of this has to do with what I wanted to talk about. Can I start on it now?”

“Hang on,” Meowth stated. “I’ll listen after you explain this idiom to me.”

He can’t be serious right now… “Isn’t it obvious? It means that you shouldn’t look into something too hard because then you might not like what you find.”

“Okay, that makes sense…” Meowth seemed to genuinely contemplate this. “And who is ‘the cat’ referring to in this situation?”

“Oh, for God’s — it’s a hypothetical!” Mathew exclaimed. “The cat doesn’t exist. He isn’t real. Can we please get to the actual session now?”

“Alright, alright…” Meowth sighed. “So, is this ‘thing’ you’re vaguely referring to a home matter? A past job? Some other trouble?”

“I…guess you could call it a home matter?” He raked the nail of his thumb against the table. “I dunno, really. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Maybe we could start with how your work with SEAS relates to it and try to reach the root from there.”

Okay, that’s enough of this. Meowth wasn’t giving any care at all into what he was saying, that much was clear. “Did you actually bring me here so I could have a place to work out my problems, or did you just want an excuse to hear yourself talk?”

Surprisingly, Mathew’s cutting question got results out of him. “I assure you, I’m not trying to diminish you. As soon as you answer my questions, I will gladly answer yours.”

Mathew wanted to agree to that pretense, that Meowth really had good intentions. But now, what Politoed and Breloom were saying about Meowth were all too clear. “Y’know what? I don’t believe you. You have a medical degree, and everyone’s been saying you’re half-therapist. You, of all people, should know what comes first in a conversation like this.”

“That sounds pretty selfish of you.”

The cubone intensified. “Do you have any idea how much I went through to even get over here? I don’t have a home, I don’t have half of my belongings, I don’t have my s… I gave up damn near everything!” He smacked the table they were sitting on. “Maybe I deserve to be a little selfish for once.”

Meowth gave him a deadpan, almost disappointed expression. “So what you’re saying is, any issue that I may be dealing with at this point is entirely irrelevant to the conversation.”

Mathew rolled his eyes, looking away from Meowth. “Oh my God, just forget it. I had this lunch with you because I thought you would help, but clearly this isn’t working…”

The cubone looked to Meowth, and suddenly, something…changed. He felt so drowsy…so woozy… The restaurant faded out of view. It was just him and Meowth now… An overwhelming sense of persuasion flooded him, and suddenly his will to resist vanished, looking into Meowth’s green…glowing…eyes.

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Every word Meowth said permeated his senses, resonating across Mathew’s entire being. “Mathew, I’ll just be upfront and ask. What does your work have to do with my father?”

“Joey and I…we work in the resort…basement…the Waregle,” Mathew whispered without hesitation. “He’s not around… I haven’t seen him outside of the…Club…”

Meowth squinted, seeming annoyed at the answer. “No involvement? Why even use the resort for training, then?”

“It’s a good space…to be athletic. They’re getting me to…adjust to my...cubone body. If I do well…I get promoted into a good job.” His voice was noticeably soft, even in this state. Was anybody else even seeing this…?

The cat was baffled by what he was saying. “Your cubone body? Do you have another one?”

“No. I…was a human before.”

Those glowing eyes widened. A stillness hung in the air as Meowth’s expression transformed from annoyance to horror at what he just said. “…You definitely didn’t want me to know that.” He hurriedly clapped his paws together, and in an instant the world came back into view — and so, too, did the implications of what Mathew had just said.

“What the fuck did you do to me?!” Mathew’s scream caught the eyes of everybody in the restaurant. He scrambled around, knocking over his bowl and his silverware as he pushed out of his seat.

Meowth rose, looking desperate. “Mathew, wait—!”

“Get the hell away from me!” He burst into a sprint, rushing past customers and waiters alike as he made for the door. Mathew had to get away from him — away from whatever thing he just did to get him to spill his big secret.

He had fallen straight into Meowth’s trap, and it horrified him.

Well, that hadn’t gone exactly according to plan.

When he finally decided to pull out his hypnosis ability, he had anticipated a pretty mundane, but revealing explanation of Mathew’s work. Worst case scenario, he’d tick Mathew off for a while, possibly get a stern talking to, and then everyone would move on, keeping him equipped with the knowledge to unravel the truth Mr. Persian was keeping from him.

The moment he realized he’d accidentally goaded Mathew into revealing his humanity to him, he knew this was going to blow up in his face far worse than he pictured.

It started when two members of the Kalmwa’er Service Guild stormed the restaurant, gunning for his table. Apparently they were answering a call of possibly illegal coercion via hypnosis made by one of the customers. Meowth turned himself in willingly, allowing them to drag him to town hall for interrogation. Fortunately, they let him keep his leftovers — although they had to stay in the massive gloved hand of the familiar interrogator.

“Eheheheh!” Despite the lack of any kind of mouth, Poliwrath had a hearty, unforgettable laugh. The blue, burly toad-ish figure could’ve easily knocked him out, based on the sports tape-like power bands wrapped around both arms, but instead, he resorted to mockery. “Well Chip, it looks like I done won this bet!” he said.

“To be fair, sire, I did say you had the better end of the bet,” Poliwrath’s colorful parrot of a partner-in-crime replied in his sing-songy tone. “If I had a say, I would’ve bet that Meowth would get arrested within three years out of Higher Ed any day of the week.”

Meowth reclined himself in the metal chair, getting comfortable. These two were one grade lower than he was, just fresh out of Higher Ed themselves, but they had plenty of secondhand experience with him thanks to the amphibian’s older brother.

“Alright!” Poliwrath plopped himself into a chair on the opposite side of the interrogation room, past a hardened glass wall. The chatot stood next to Meowth to ensure he didn’t try to escape, wearing a pair of dark type-imbued goggles that his hypnosis would never pierce. Meowth couldn’t tell which one was supposed to be playing the bad cop. He probably wasn’t worth a good cop. “Meowth, every time I reckon you can’t fall any farther, well, ya just go right ahead and do. Forced coercion on a dinner partner and, knowing yer line of work, a potential client? That just ain’t right.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Meowth said. “Would an explanation do me any good here?”

“Honestly, I doubt there’s a point to that, Meowth.” Idly, Chip fiddled with the pair of headphones wrapped around his neck, wired to some kind of music-playing device clipped to his side. “We know you. We know the crime. We know what you always do after something like this. Why bother, when you’ll just be like…” Chip’s voice suddenly deepened into a perfect vocal impression of him. “There’s no poooint to aaaaanything. I’ll just keep being baaaaad.”

“‘Ey, Chip!” Poliwrath had said. “I agree with ya, but we got a protocol to fill! It’s our job to at least try to rehab ‘em.”

“I’m just saying what I see, sire! Nobody can make this guy chin up.”

Poliwrath had shot Chip a mischievous look. “Wanna bet on it?”

It took a moment of contemplation for Chip to make a decision. “Eh… Sure. We need to get another one going, after all. I’m putting a thousand on it.”

At that moment, Poliwrath cackled, as if Chip had just fallen into a trap. “Oh baby, we’re goin’ on a win streak!”

It took considerable effort to keep himself from curling up in frustration. He was ready for this to be over. “What’s the punishment, then?”

“Right, right.” Poliwrath waved an arm to shake off his own distraction. “Meowth, I reckon this charge could go any number of directions. I done seen small fines, I done seen jailtime… I got options, so I got a chance to make a sentence that really puts a petty troublemaker like you on the ropes. I reckon I can do that the same way I solve my debates: with a deal!”

“A deal.” Meowth had little knowledge about the workings of the Service Guild, so he was taken a little by surprise. “Is that legal?”

“If it was illegal, I wouldn’t be doin’ it, now would I? I reckon I’ll just have to run it by ol’ Silvalla after we’re done,” Poliwrath said. “That victim ‘o yours, the cubone? If he can come to Chip or me in a couple weeks’ time, we’ll scale your punishment based on the harm done. If he tells me, of his own free will, that yer a good guy after all that, we’ll drop the charge and look away like it never happened. If he doesn’t…” If he had a mouth, Poliwrath would’ve given him the most devilish grin imaginable. “Well, you can kiss that medical license goodbye. You ain’t got the moral character for one!”

That threat haunted Meowth through the rest of his questioning and all the way home. Not only did he now risk losing the product of six years of study, but now he risked giving up his chance to find the truth. His medical proficiency was the excuse Mr. Persian used to employ him. If he lost it, would his father still be willing to keep him where he is?

As he slowly prodded through streets and caught a ride home on the gondola, the consequences truly sank in. He had risked the only thing of value that he possessed — and he wasn’t even sure if it helped him in his pursuit.

He blew it. Of course he did.

As soon as he pushed open the door to his condo, three pairs of eyes were on him, and the tension in the room spiked. Joey, Jermy, and Minichino were sitting in front of some kind of TV-like box. Next to the box was a wired remote-thing that had been left untouched. Meowth could read the word ‘paused’ on the screen. Mathew was nowhere to be seen.

Joey was the first to speak up. “Uh, hi, Meowth.”

“Hi.” Meowth glanced at Minichino. “Why are you here?”

“I let her in,” he explained. “She said she had something real important she needed to tell you. Is...is that okay?”

I sure hope it is, Joey was certainly thinking, because I bet you’ll hypnotize me too if I make the slightest of mistakes.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Meowth looked to the visitor. “What do you need?”

“You know, on second thought,” Minichino remarked as she sunk into his couch. “I dunno, I don’t feel like I should tell you anymore. Maybe another day.”

Maybe never.

“So he explained it already, then?” he asked them.

“Uh, bits and pieces?” Jermy said. “He was playing a game on this thingamabobber he brought with him to calm down earlier, and then he suddenly went upstairs for some—”

Just then, the sounds of dragging could be heard from above. Mathew slowly moved down the stairs backwards, pulling his oversized backpack down with him. He didn’t address Meowth at all. “Okay, almost down…”

“Hey.” Meowth approached the refrigerator and pried it open by pushing his elbow against the handle. “I brought food from Silvalla’s, Mathew. I thought you might want it later.” He clearly set it on one of the shelves.

He stopped on one of the stairs and glared at him. “You can keep it.” Then he went back to pulling. “Joey, get the scrapbook and whatever else you got. We’re moving to the condo.”

Jermy sprung out of his sitting position, looking panicked. “Wait, what?!”

“Why are you so surprised? I am not living in the same house as that…thing.” Mathew set the backpack down at the foot of the stairs, then turned to Meowth. “I might get fired over what you got me to say with whatever weird thing you did to me! Did you think I’d be okay with being anywhere near you after that!?”

“Wait, you hypnotized him?!” A flash of panic, than a wave of irritation came over Minichino. Her paws clenched and her tail straightened as she marched over to him. “Dude, I just thought the session went bad or something. That’s way different!”

Meowth couldn’t look any of them in the eyes. He shuffled around his kitchen, picking up dirtied plates and moving them into his opened dishwasher. “It was a mistake. I had a reason to do it, but—”

In a single motion, Minichino pushed Meowth away and slammed the dishwasher shut. Pay attention to me! she was crying out. “You can’t keep acting like this. This club’s way bigger than just yourself, you know? This could get everyone in hot water!”

Meowth eyed the living room. Mathew was preoccupied with shutting down the mysterious box. Jermy was blabbering something into his ears, but he hardly seemed to care. Joey was still on the couch, worried eyes shifting between the two pairs. He put the plates in his paws down. “Look. You wouldn’t understand, but there’s a reason I’m still here despite hardly being a cleaner. I’ve spent so many years wondering why our boss decided to let school babysit me for half of my life, and this is my only chance at finding out. This was stupid, but I don’t know a better way. Sorry.”

Minichino stared at him with a faltering apprehension. Her anger was evident, but for some reason, there was something else in there that Meowth could sense. When she reached over and snatched the plates, he realized what it was: pity. “Well, not being a butt would be a good start.” She swiped the plates clean, put them back, and then made for the door. “I’m gonna head home now. See you guys at work tomorrow.” She was gone before Meowth could even give her a ‘goodbye’.

A loud zrrrrp filled the condo as Mathew closed his backpack, box in tow. “So explain to me why, exactly, you think we can’t move in at the condo now?”

“We just shouldn’t, okay?!” an exasperated Jermy exclaimed. “We’d be boondoggling!”

ORB rolled ahead of the pikachu. “By ‘boondoggling’, he means that the space in the resort that was reserved for you and Joey was taken by now, so there’s no point in wasting your breath on it.”

Mathew met the robot with an annoyed glare. “You’re messing with me. It’s been less than twenty four hours!”

“And Kalmwa’er Resort is a busy place. Any more questions?”

He growled as he tossed his backpack onto the couch by Joey. “Fine! We’ll just go somewhere else then! Maybe Minichino could…” Mathew looked confusedly to the kitchen where Meowth stood. “Where did she go?”

“She just left,” Meowth told him, “after talking with me.”

Mathew was left dumbfounded. What did you do? that look in his eyes asked Meowth, as if he had hurt her somehow. If he told Mathew he didn’t, would he believe him?

He rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his wasted packing. “Well at least somebody here has some goddamn sense.” The cubone stormed off in an angered huff, taking it with him.

No, he wouldn’t. Meowth was sure of that.

Neither Joey, nor Jermy, nor ORB bothered to stop him from making for the door to his room.

He stepped through, slammed it shut, and threw his back at it. Down, down, down he slid against it, his tail pushed to the side, until he was sitting on the hardwood floor.

Why did he do this to himself? Right as it seemed like everything was in perfect place, right as he was feeling on top of his calculated game, he knocked over his own house of cards. He was so close to getting answers, and, at that, forming a decent friendship for once in his life. Now he had neither.

Outside his door, the world carried on. “This day has been wilder than a dog-punting deer,” the voice of Joey carried past the door. “I don’t want all of us fighting. It ain’t fun.”

“I hope so…”

Perhaps, Meowth figured, it was better that he hadn’t mentioned the interrogation. This was already hard enough as it was now.

The cat spent the rest of the night cooped in his room. Joey and Jermy continued to talk and share company. After a while, Mathew joined them again, once he saw that the ‘owner’ wasn’t around. The three’s muffled cheers, cries, and laughter reached his ears as they played on that box together. Meowth had no place there — the door he had shut stood in his way.

Chapter 7: Misleading Demeanors
"You've known from the start, this melody is a lie. But these lyrics lurk, deep in the back of your mind."

Breloom's vocals, sloppier than her mate's but still capable of carrying a tune, reverberated across the flat, open front yard of Minichino's white, aged home. From the way the strums of her electric guitar, bolstered by a speaker she had hooked it up to, echoed on the walls of the cliffside surrounding Kalmwa'er, Joey reckoned that just about everyone in town could hear this. All the more volume to batter him with — that was the purpose, after all.

"Then suuuddenly…your rhythm breaks up and contorts," Breloom kept singing. "Then suuuddenly…your style doesn't seem like yours. Aa-ah…"

The crocodile wobbled on his toes and waved his arms as he tried to avoid falling out of the roughly circular arena, marked in the grass with tape. Minichino's tail swings were relentless, keeping him constantly on the back-foot. There was no one else to save him from her fluffy wrath, either, as Mathew was busy playing keep-away with Politoed across from the crocodile.

"Come on, Joey!" Minichino called out as he sidestepped another strike. "When you get pushed to the brink, you gotta push back with all you have!"

"I'm trying harder than a stone in a storm here!" As he stumbled and swayed around Minichino, he kept trying to do what Politoed taught him. Search for a dampness deep in the throat, make it gargle, then launch it from the maw…that was how he described using a water attack. Even still, all Joey had managed to do so far was practice his spit-take. Was completely overwhelming him in a mock-fight like this really going to bring the attack out of him?

"Words so infectious! Wants so contentious! But you...you can still face the fight ahead!"

…well, they were certainly succeeding in overwhelming him, at least.

Hoping to put some distance between him and the chinchilla, Joey dove through the space between Mathew and Politoed, narrowly avoiding the reptile's club as he poked bubble after bubble with the sharp end. The moment he turned and saw Politoed was facing him now, he realized that might have been a mistake.

"Gotcha!" Minichino leapt forward and tackled Mathew's side. They scraped against dirt, both tumbling out of the ring.

Joey hardly had a second to process before he was forced to focus on the green frog. He stood tall over him, waving his right arm. "Careful, Joey," he taunted. "Friends tell me I have a mean slap."

"All these songs to make you dread, when all this time you could instead, have written up the song to your own head!"

As if mocking him, Breloom brought her song into a bright, energetic chorus as, one step at a time, Joey was backed towards the edge of the ring. He stared up nervously at his crowned friend as he got closer and closer to swinging distance of his maw.

There was no running from this — no friends to save him, no hidden secrets to indulge in instead. But Joey didn't need to run. The ability to use water attacks is already present inside him, right? If he could just focus on the here and now, then—!

He hardly even had to think about it. The moment he clenched his eyes shut, he felt that dampness deep in the back of his throat. The next thing Joey knew, Politoed had been splashed right in the face.

He swiped at his cheek with his hand, then inspected it. "Not very strong…but it stings." A grin formed on his face as he looked to Joey. "Congratulations on learning Water Gun, Joey." Before the the crocodile reacted, he hopped right out of the ring, leaving him the victor.

"Please ignore these big, loud chords, forget the verse and all the words, just show your moves and point your song forwards!" Breloom posed, letting the last chord ring out, before she applauded him. "Heh, and you said we couldn't get you to use that move by the end of the day."

Joey looked down at himself in amazement. "It ain't even that hard…"

"It's not supposed to be!" Minichino exclaimed. As she spoke, she followed the lightly cracked walls of her home until she picked up a hose intended for a much larger pokemon. With some force, the creaky faucet turned, and soon she was spraying the dirt right off of herself. "Learning abilities like that happens all the time. Give it some practice, and I bet you'll be as good as me!"

"Really? Wow." Joey was amazed by how much faith Minichino seemed to put in him to navigate his situation. "I reckon Jermy and Demurke are gonna be happy to hear about this," he said as he looked to Mathew.

"Yeah, probably," the dirt-covered reptile said. "I wonder why they had to stay at the res—gah, hey!" Mathew brought his arms up as Minichino splashed him with the hose.

"Sorry, dude! I'm not letting you run around looking like that!" Minichino giggled as she kept the hose focused right on—

Knock, knock. "Hey."

Stronger than any hose, that voice wiped the smiles right off of everyone's faces. Every eye was immediately on the cat that had knocked on the unpolished wooden fence dividing the yard from the street.

Joey could only grimace. During their workday this morning, Minichino had told Mathew that they were going to meet at Minichino's place to help Joey practice, and that he was invited. Unfortunately, she had to explain this to him right in front of everyone else, including Meowth. Joey had wondered if he'd show up, but for Mathew's sake, he hoped not. Maybe he should have hoped harder.

"Um." Minichino moved to turn off the hose. "I'm pretty sure I only invited Joey and Mathew to this, dude."

"I know." He raised his paw, revealing his medical kit. "I just wanted to offer oran berries or any other kind of medical attention, in case your practice got rough."

Politoed promptly marched over to a corner of the yard and raised a small bucket they'd left there. "Already got some. Minichino grows berries in her back yard, remember?"

"Oh." Meowth nodded in understanding. "Well, for the future, I can buy even more for y—"

"Stop. Just, stop." Mathew stomped towards the fence, brandishing his club. "You're not welcome here, and you never will be." He got right up in Meowth's face. Then, he flinched as if he'd just realized something and turned his head away. "So fuck off. Go bother somebody else."

Mathew's sharp words bounced faintly against the wall of Kalmwa'er. Distant, unintelligible echoes filled their ears before fading into the noise of daily bustle.

Meowth held firm, staying still for just a moment, before he slouched back down, his kit back at his side. "Fine. Sorry." he turned and walked away.

Joey watched as Meowth paced down the street. The air in the yard held still in anticipation for as long as he was in view. Slowly, it fizzled away, and the moment passed.

Mathew, expression already softened, turned his head back. "So, what was that about needing to hose me down?"

That was all it took for normalcy to kick in again. Minichino tended to Mathew, Politoed pried the tape from the grass, and Breloom moved to store away her electric guitar.

Joey was the only one still looking.

A revelation came upon Minichino as she put the hose away. "Oh, Mathew, Joey! You guys haven't tried a berry smoothie before, right?" The moment she received confused looks, an eager glint flashed in her gaze. "I've gotta make you two try one before you go! You've not lived until you've mixed a cheri berry into a drink…!"

Before Joey could process it, he was pulled into the small comfort that was Minichino's house. It was clearly a home held together with a lot of love and a lot of tape — cracks snaked down the walls, and table legs were wrapped in the stuff to keep them steady. The foyer was little more than an old rug, a couch made just for pokemon Minichino's size, a small TV, and a few drawers here and there. Flanking it were doorways leading to a bedroom and a bathroom. Ahead was a little kitchen, and beyond that, a sliding door. Minichino was already pulling it aside, making for a bed of soil sprouting plants bearing an assortment of berries.

Joey could feel the silent disappointment radiating from Mathew. This rugged place, although as spotless as a cleaner like Minichino could make it, was hardly equipped for four visitors, much less three tenants. There was no way they could move in with her — no way they could use this to escape from Meowth.

Not that Joey really wanted to 'escape'.

The previous day still lingered in his mind. He remembered what Meowth told Minichino then — how what happened at Silvalla's was Meowth's only chance to find some kind of answer, and how he didn't know a better way. What Meowth did was obviously bad, but it was hard for Joey to join the group in lauding him when it didn't seem like he had malicious intentions at all.

It was then that he realized that sitting down at that kitchen table was never going to clear his uncertainty.

"Alright, this should do!" Minichino marched in half-dozen berries of all shapes and colors, promptly dumping them into the bucket of orans. "With these, we can—"

"Actually," Joey forcefully cut himself in. "I really appreciate y'all offering us a treat, but I just realized I got somewhere else to be today, so I gotta get going." He made for the door as quick as his little crocodile legs would permit. The sooner he could talk to Meowth, the sooner he could figure out where he stood in this whole—

"Dang, you're out of here already?" Breloom shimmied around on the couch, trying to find a comfortable angle despite it being too small for her form. She nearly kicked off some kind of golden robe draped over the top. "I was gonna give you guys another serenade or two after we ate."

"Yeah, since when were we in any kind of rush?" Mathew asked.

"Well, uh…" What was he supposed to tell them? He ain't good at lying on the fly! "I wanted to…mosey around the neighborhood for a bit…to cool down from the training?"

"Instead of having a refreshing drink with us?" Politoed pressed.

"…Yeah."

Joey struggled to keep a straight face as he watched the expression in Mathew's eyes shift from confusion to grave concern. "You're not going after him, are you?"

"No!" His tone was way too high.

"Joey…" he approached him at an urgent pace, nearly resting a hand on his arm. "Please, don't do anything stupid."

"Stupid?" That word lit some kind of spark in him. "I reckon the real 'stupid' thing here is turning away somebody trying to be nice to y'all and make up for a mistake."

The tense air was back. Both of Mathew's hands clung to his club, as if it were Joey's arm. "Him offering something nice is exactly how all this started."

"The chances he's gonna hypnotize me are slimmer than a slip of paper!" Joey looked to Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, who were watching the conversation with stunned expressions. "Does Meowth do that to folks often?"

The three looked among each other until Politoed spoke up. "First I've heard of him having that move, to be honest."

"I mean, he probably won't do anything to you," Minichino said. "But like, why go after him?"

Joey's maw quivered. "I want his side of the story here too, okay?!" he exclaimed. "I don't know Meowth like y'all do. How can I hate what I don't know?"

Mathew seemed perturbed by his answer, but his expression quickly sobered as he idly tightened his tie. "Joey, there isn't any kind of 'side' you're missing from people like him," he said firmly. "He's a waste of air who does shitty things, and will do more shitty things in the future. His kind doesn't change — I've seen enough to know that. So don't go treating him like some innocent kitten."

"A little much, Mathew…" Politoed mumbled.

"Oh, so now you can yammer on all about how things used to be?" Annoyance bubbled within Joey. Where was this when they were talking about his home life? He decided then and there to just turn tail and make for the door. "I ain't doing this anymore. I'd rather be with Meowth if you're gonna act like such a stick in the mud." In just a second or two, he was already partway to the front gate.

"What?!" The long nails on Mathew's feet clacked against the porch, angered tone supplanted by panic. "Joey, hang on—!"

"Let him go, Mat," Breloom called.

"On his own? Are you insane?!"

"Well, you're not gonna convince him with your words at this point. He's made up his mind, so…"

That was the last Joey could hear of them before he was too far from Minichino's home. He felt a little guilty for getting so heated — he would have to apologize to everyone later. But when the crocodile felt driven, he could hardly hold himself back.

If Meowth had planned to go straight home after getting rejected, Joey knew just where to look to find him. All he had to do was look up at the thick cables and slender gondola cars running over his head. If Meowth wasn't already in one of those, he must be waiting for one at the station.

It wasn't long before the crocodile arrived to the elevated platform where pokémon were let in and out of the gondola car. Blue stanchions formed a winding path towards the platform, shaded by a high-hanging ceiling. There was only one person standing in line, waiting.

"Meowth!" Joey called to him he ducked under the stanchions and joined him at the front of the line. "Hi."

The cat's eyes widened in surprise. Then, they softened as he turned away and crossed his arms. "Where's Mathew?"

"He ain't here. They were gonna fix berry smoothies."

"And you didn't stay?"

Joey shook his head. "I wanted to talk to you instead."

His long whiskers flicked as he watched one of the cars approach the platform. "If you want to tell me off yourself, you could save it for when you come back to the condo."

"Not that kind of talk!" Joey exclaimed. "I ain't here to tell you off. I just…wanna understand what's going on with you."

The crocodile had anticipated that the cat would probably just shrug and say "Whatever." At best, he might even nod and agree to it. What he hadn't expected was for Meowth to look at him with…real, genuine surprise. It was as if the very question was foreign to him.

As the whir of machinery filled their ears with the arrival of a gondola car, he shook off that expression. "After we board," he said, before climbing up the ramp to the slowing car. The doors opened on their own, welcoming them in so long as they watched their step.

Joey carefully leapt in, hopped into one of the cushy seats - and then, out of the corner of his eye, a brown figure dashed between the gap of two buildings surrounding the platform. Was he seriously…?! Well, at least Mathew was looking out for him, he supposed.

It took a moment for Joey to gather his thoughts, long enough for the gondola to make its ascent. In the meantime, he looked down at the down as they climbed upward, leaving the ground behind. From up here, Joey could see the market and the marina, and what looked like the makings of a college campus…and Kalmwa'er Resort, towering over it all.

Meowth didn't seem nearly so interested in the view below. Instead, he stared straight at Joey, as if he wasn't there and the full view of the ocean behind him was on display. "So…what do you mean by 'what's going on with me'?"

"Well, I just wanna know why," Joey told him. "Why you took us all in, why you hypnotized Mathew…why folks don't like you."

Meowth raked a claw against his chair in contemplation. "You wouldn't understand. Most people don't. I'm not sure an explanation would help anything."

"No, Meowth, an explanation would help everything!" He scrunched up in his seat, pouting. "Everyone else never wants to talk about things, either. It's annoying."

The car rattled a little, mildly swaying. Meowth gave a long sigh. His tail shifted from one side to the other, pointing in the direction of the campus below. "When I was thirteen, my father paid so that I could attend the Kalmwa'er School of Higher Education, over there. I graduated last year with an official medical license last year, so I can act as a medic or physician in various fields."

"That's real cool!" Joey said. "You must've worked like crazy."

"Sure." Meowth's expression was contemplative — it seemed like he was struggling to decide if he should say what's on his mind. "You know… I don't really remember a lot about Higher Ed. Just studying all the time and getting into arguments." He gave a weak laugh. "Kind of sad, right? Six years of my life and it all feels hollow now."

"Hollow?" Joey cocked his head.

"In all that time, I never saw my father once. The moment he could, he took me out of his life and buried himself in that Resort. Then when I finally saw him again, all he wanted was to hire me into this mediocre trash-cleaning job." He slouched in his seat. "I thought this might be my chance to find out what changed. What he did, or I did…so I can make him answer for it."

Joey brought a hand to the closest thing he had to a chin. "And you see me and Mathew as the way to your dad?"

He tensed up, seeming taken aback by the deduction. "That's right… Hypnotizing Mathew wasn't my plan, but I was desperate to find out anything about my father - I didn't mean to make him spill his big secret. But no amount of apologies are going to fix this." He slumped against the glass. "Something like this always happens with my connections. That's how it went with everyone else."

"Oh…" Joey could only listen in sympathy. If he had made stupid mistakes and lost all his friends, Joey reckoned he'd be a pretty sour person with a one-track mind, too.

"I know why you came to talk to me." He leaned in. "You think you can help me out of this rut? I wouldn't bother. You'd be wasting your time, just to probably end up despising me too."

Joey couldn't believe what he was hearing. Meowth hardly knew who he was, and already he was ready to write him off as another hater. "This is all just a bunch of quitter talk, Meowth!" He tried to stand, but promptly sat back down when he felt the gondola car swing a little.

"Am I wrong to think that way?" Meowth asked. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the kind of person who changes opinions easily."

"Well, if you're in the business of finding answers about your dad and wanting to patch things up with Mathew, you came to the right croc," Joey said. "We're both looking for the same thing here!"

"Answers about your father?" Meowth asked, curiosity piqued. "This is the first I've heard of this."

"I don't remember anything about my life before I became a croc. Nothing about myself, or my mom, or my dad. Mathew apparently knows everything, but he ain't saying a peep about it. I got fewer leads than a dog in a spooky house."

"Amnesia…" Meowth hung his head. "That's unfortunate."

"It is. But I reckon that, if we put our noggins together, maybe we'll be able to fix things up around here." Joey tightened his hands, feeling more determined than ever.

He gave him a solitary 'heh'. "You make it sound so easy. I didn't mention this until now, but we're also on a time-limit here. The Kalmwa'er Service Guild wants to take my license away for what I did to Mathew. If things don't change soon…"

Joey gawked. "They can do that?!"

"Seems so."

The crocodile was concerned…at least, at first. "Well, I reckon we were already on short time already. We'll probably only be hanging around in Kalmwa'er for as long as this recruitment takes, after all. What's a little less time?"

"You're awfully optimistic." He shook his head, but for the first time, Joey could see a weak grin on his face.

Joey smiled back. "Ain't worth being anything else, if you can help it." Their ride was almost over now - the gondola was sliding in to the platform at the top of the cliffside. He stood up and offered a fist. "Help Ourselves Squad?"

Meowth slowly rose up met his fist with his own. "Sure. Help Ourselves Squad."

"This is outrageous!" Jermy slammed the desk in frustration. Before him and Demurke was a formally-written statement handed down from the business division — and what it said was unpleasant. "Do they think we're miracle workers?!"

Demurke lifted herself from the chair and pulled the sheet towards herself. "F-Friday of next week? I-I've never seen a turnaround this…short. It's usually a m-month, at least."

Across the office desk, David was firmly planted in an Earth-style office chair, peering at the large window where the late-afternoon sun gleamed through. As far as Jermy knew, this was the first time his boss had been in Mr. Persian's top-floor office. Due to the urgency, they were using it as a makeshift, short-notice meeting room. Seeing the ocean from this high up while not in the middle of berating Jermy in his talons must be nifty to him.

"If it makes you two feel better, this doesn't have anything to do with how the recruitment's going," he told them. "I hear they're temporarily freezing the recruitment program. No more new humans, and every recruit's getting their plan accelerated."

"Freezing it?" Jermy's ears flicked as a wave of concern came over him. The last time they froze recruitment… "What's going on?" he asked seriously.

David sighed. "I can't tell you that, unfortunately."

The whir of the ventilation filled the air between them. "'scuse me?" Jermy was used to David being a stick in the mud, but this? "Aren't I your trusted assistant?"

"Yes, I know, it's irritating, but it's not my call to make. It's her…" David looked away from him. "Demurke?"

She flinched, eyes from the window to David as if she'd been woken up from slumber. "S-Sorry! I…"

"But I'm a part of this whole thing too!" Jermy exclaimed. He was. "Don't I deserve to know?"

David shook his head, letting Demurke be in favor of addressing him. "How so?"

He grimaced. Already he could feel his own argument withiering. "I'm your assistant, and—!"

"And he is currently acting as a recruiter." ORB, sitting up against Jermy's chair, was there to rescue him. "While he is a part of the science division first, at the moment he is doing the work of a business division member. As a result, he has a right to know."

His boss leaned back in his chair. "Well, I'll give you that much. But this is tight-lipped even with some of the recruiters. And after what happened yesterday, unfortunately, there's a pretty good reason for that knowledge to stay out of your wings - er, hands."

Crud. He'd almost forgotten about the whole debacle with Meowth. That information had passed quickly up the grapevine, and now the whole organization might as well know about it. It didn't mean squat that there was Hypnosis involved - it made Mathew look trustworthy, and even worse as a candidate for their pursuits. He buried himself in his chair. "This is going to take...so much work to course-correct."

David gave him a stern nod. "Do you see why I was worried about them living with Mr. Persian's child, now?"

Jermy and Demurke sat in silence. They didn't have any retort to give this time. This risk of theirs hadn't paid off at all.

He shook his head, rising up from the desk. "Well, if we want to redeem Mathew in their eyes, we'll need some kind of plan. I'm going to head back to my lab and draft something up. We've crawled out of deeper pits before…"

Demurke fluttered out of her seat. "I-I've had to improvise a…thing or two for some of the people I've recruited. Maybe I c-could help?"

David's gaze softened. "I'd like that, yes."

"Wait, what about me?" Jermy flopped out of his chair. "Shouldn't we all work on this together?"

"Unfortunately, one of us needs to keep an eye on the recruits." As the two of them moved for the door, David's eyes squinted. "Somebody has to keep things like that from happening."

Geez. Way to rub salt in the wound.

"Sorry, Jermy…s-see you later, okay?" With Demurke's parting, Jermy was left alone to stew in the office.

The pikachu grit his teeth as he paced around the room. This whole thing was Mr. Persian's fault. If the Club owner hadn't brought him into their business, then…!

His tense arms slacked, the desire to blame fading fast. It wasn't reasonable to pin it on him. When he saw the makeshift bed in the corner of the office and the stack of food cans filling his trash bin, Jermy knew that he couldn't blame Mr. Persian for doing what he did.

With ORB in the corner of his eye, Jermy wondered if, given the chance, he'd have done the same.
 
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Chapter 8

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 8: Sharing the Scraps
Joey was starting to appreciate living in Meowth’s condo. Sure, the pure glass wall let in an annoying amount of sunlight in the evenings, and Joey couldn’t shake the fear that the whole place would slide down the cliff no matter how many times Meowth tried to assure him. But it was all worth it to see the sunrise in the early hours of the morning.

He’d hardly gotten any sleep last night, despite how badly he needed some. The crocodile’s head spun with thoughts about his future job, his new sort-of partnership with Meowth, and his estranged relationship with Mathew. To quell them, he had settled down on the living room couch and cracked open the reptile’s scrapbook. Joey had been keeping it safe these past few days, combing through it as if new pictures would magically appear to him. He didn’t really feel like he was making any more progress with it, but—

“Good morning, Joey.”

“Oh!” Joey exclaimed before reaching for his maw reflexively. “Hi Meowth,” he greeted in a half-whisper.

Meowth had just slipped out of his room to the side. Immediately, he made his way for the kitchen. “You’re up earlier than usual,” he remarked in a similar whispery tone as he rummaged his way through a cabinet.

“I reckon I could say the same for you. Did you have a bad sleep?”

“Not really. This is around the time I usually get up.” He pried out a store-bought loaf of bread. “You shouldn’t be like me. At your age, you need lots of sleep.”

“Oh.” Joey appreciated the advice, but he didn’t feel like heeding it, especially when Jermy was going to wake them up in a short while anyway. He just stayed quiet as Meowth slid two slices into his toaster.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

“It’s…” Joey stopped to think first. On one hand, this scrapbook was a sentimental gift from Mathew, and he probably wouldn’t shrug off him sharing it with Meowth. On the other hand, even after going over it, Joey still didn’t really know what all this meant for himself. Maybe a second pair of eyes could help him make sense of it? “It’s a scrapbook Mathew gave me. He said it’d help answer my questions about my past, but...to be real honest, I don’t feel like it answers anything. Maybe you’d see something I don’t?”

Meowth paused at that question. “Are you sure I should read that? I admit I was thinking about it, since it’d help me learn what I missed in that botched session, but…” He was quieted by Joey’s nod. “Alright.” Meowth padded over to the couch. Joey welcomed him by making some room and flipped to the beginning. As he sat down, his eyes locked on to the first page. “…What is that?”

“Hah?” Joey looked down and quickly understood what he was asking about. Right in the center was a photo of Mathew standing happily next to a few other humans. “Oh! This is what Mathew and his folks looked like back on Earth! I dunno why this ain’t the front cover. Here.” He handed the book to Meowth.

The cat squinted at the photo. “These are humans? I expected them to look...stronger.”

Joey stifled a giggle. “If they’re anything like what I seem to know, they ain’t.” He pointed to a bearded man in the photo. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mathew.”

“I see…” Meowth tapped Mathew’s face. “What’s that black patch under his mouth?”

“Oh, that’s a beard,” he explained. “Sometimes hair grows around there instead of on top of the noggin. They’re good for scratching when you wanna feel smart.”

“Huh.” Meowth turned the page. He was met with images dated several years back, depicting people in suits and dresses in front of a large pastel-colored cake, topped with strange figurines of laptops and electric guitars. Mathew was there, arm wrapped around a blonde-haired woman. “What’s going on here?”

The totodile gawked at him. “Do y’all not know about weddings?!”

“Not really.” Meowth sprung off the couch — the toaster had finished.

“It’s this big event that happens when two folks have a marriage! Which...is when they give each other pricey rings and say they’re gonna live their whole lives together.” If Meowth didn’t know what a wedding is, Joey figured he might not know what marriage is, either.

He glanced towards him as he set the pair on a plate and slotted in two more slices. “Together like roommates?”

“Together like a couple.”

“Ah,” Meowth said. “Looks pretty garish. And a waste, if that relationship doesn’t work out. Those medallions Politoed and Breloom wear are probably much cheaper.” He shook his head as he returned to the couch. “But that’s beside the point. I see that Mathew was romantically involved.”

“I’d reckon so.” Joey reached over and began turning the pages for him. There were countless photos of gatherings of various kinds — in a city, in a town, inside of unfamiliar homes. Mathew was a persistent face throughout them all, and at that, a rather happy one, especially when paired next to a young boy who he bore some resemblance to.

Meowth was clutching the scrapbook as if a whole new dimension had opened up to him. He took initiative back from Joey and started flipping pages himself. “I never would’ve guessed that Mathew had a family like this…and one that knows how to take some great shots.”

Not sure how to take that last comment, Joey just nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And that’s got me wondering…”

“Hmm.” Meowth hardly paid him any mind, eyes sucked towards the pages until he’d made it to the back cover. Then, he handed it back to Joey, open to somewhere in the second half. “Have you noticed how the photos change at this point, Joey?”

“Yeah.” Joey didn’t need it explained to him. He already noticed how there were fewer and fewer photos of the world outside their cozy home, and of the rest of the family. The woman at Mathew’s wedding wasn’t there, either. She was seemingly replaced by one with scruffy red hair that wore ripped clothes and jeans, and carried a bunny plush with her no matter the occasion. “They’re real different.”

“It’s interesting how much his family seems to change — and the fact that none of them are here with him. I suspect there might be a reason for it.” His tone started to flood with curiosity. “Maybe there was a separation. Does that happen on Earth?”

“Yeah, it’s called a divorce, but—”

“Okay, a divorce could have happened. Though I don’t see how that would necessarily leave Mathew entirely alone. A death? Multiple deaths? Or it could be—”

Pop, went the toaster once more. Meowth continued mumbling to himself as moved to take out the second set of toast and start a third. Joey paid him little mind.

The crocodile found himself returning to the few photos featuring him, having already committed their pages to memory. There was the halloween party with his parents, of course, but in his own time, he’d found a few more. Most of them were unremarkable…except the very last one.

Him and another boy — a boy who appeared in this scrapbook almost as much as Mathew did — were sitting together, side-by-side. An unopened gift bag was on the table next to the other boy. This one photo, of all photos, was the only time he had found himself wearing his cowboy hat. Joey was so used to wearing it now that it was surreal to see it as nothing more than a footnote in the story of this scrapbook.

But there was something more pressing here. Based on the gift, he reckoned this was some kind of birthday or holiday party. So why…were they crying?

They were smiling for the camera, but they couldn’t hide the truth from him. He could see the glint of water in their eyes, the dampness of their cheeks, the little falter in the boys’ smiles. Something was happening here, and Joey, despite having once lived this moment, wasn’t privy to it.

“…your opinion on all this, Joey? Do you have an idea of what could’ve happened?”

His concentration was broken by Meowth’s reintroduction to the couch. “Oh. Well, to be real honest, Meowth, that ain’t what I’m thinking about right now.” He turned the photo towards him. “I just wanna know how I fit into all this. Why Mathew’s so afraid to tell me.”

“Oh.” Meowth guiltily shrunk into the couch, placing one paw on the armrest and the other on his face. “I forgot we weren’t looking at the same things. Sorry.”

“It ain’t your fault. This is nobody’s problem but mine.” He removed his cowboy hat and turned it over, holding it next to the book. “Mathew’s kid — ‘MW’ — I think we used to be friends. And if we were writing our names together into my hat, we had to have been closer than a caterpillar and a cocoon. What did he want me to not forget? I can’t think of any ideas, besides…”

Meowth must have caught his hesitance, as he was swift to pounce on it. “Besides what?”

“Whatever thing that happened to Mathew to make him so on-edge all the time… Do you think I was the one who did it?” Joey looked to Meowth genuinely — he really didn’t want that to be true, but what other explanation was there?

The cat’s expression softened at his words. “Sometimes, the way others act doesn’t always make sense. Mathew’s behavior towards you might mean you did something wrong — or it might not. The only way we can really know is to piece it together ourselves.”

Joey could only sigh, hanging his head. He appreciated the reassurance, at least. “I reckon so…”

Waaaaaaaaaugh! Turn it off! Turn it oooooooooff!”

Just as soon as it settled, Joey’s head snapped upward in alarm. A chorus of discordant beeps and boops with no rhyme or reason blared through the house, accompanying Mathew’s anguished yells.

“What the heck is going on up there?” Meowth said, squinting.

“No clue.”

Before either had the time to act, the ‘music’ cut out, leaving only the muffled squabbling of Mathew and Jermy upstairs. Things slowly settled, and then stomping footsteps filled the house — heading straight for the stairs.

Panic shot through Joey. Mathew was about to walk in on him showing off the reptile’s own scrapbook to Meowth! He’d planned to put it back in his room before he woke up, but he must have lost track of time. Giving Mathew another reason to blow a gasket would be worse than a flame sprayed with gasoline! Hastily, he slid the book under the couch. It was dusty under there, but it’s the best he could think of.

“Ugh, good morning, Joey,” Mathew groaned as he and Jermy stumbled into the living room. His eyes were grimy and half-open — Joey hoped those eyes wouldn’t see him hastily slinking back into position. They certainly didn’t see Meowth, considering he didn’t bother to greet him. “Weird to see you up earlier than the both of us.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t get a wink of sleep. I had more things on my mind than sheep I could count.” Joey hoped that was vague enough. “What was all that ruckus about?”

“Jermy wanted to wake everyone up in one fell swoop,” ORB explained as he rolled off of the bottom stair, “so he ordered me to bring out the big guns.”

Mathew turned to ORB in annoyance. “Blasting the Crazybus theme into people’s ears should be legally considered torture...”

“Lack of attendance is legally considered grounds for firing.”

He sighed. “Good point.”

“I fixed you all breakfast before you go,” Meowth butted in. With the third set of toast ready, he laid out the plates on a counter, ripe for the taking. “Here.”

“Well, hey! Who doesn’t love a timely…4:30 AM…breakfast?” Jermy’s exclamation fizzled out.

Mathew crossed the living room to study the toast, keeping his eyes off of Meowth the whole way. “You fixed toast and nothing else?”

“Yes. Did you want the leftovers from Silvalla’s?” Meowth asked. “I can heat them up.”

At the mention of Silvalla’s, Mathew stepped back. “Toast is just such a bland meal,” he said firmly. “You don’t even have like, butter or cinnamon or powder or anything?”

Meowth shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t have ingredients like that because I don’t always fix toast in the mornings. Usually, I just want bread.” He grabbed a single slice of bread and bit down on it.

“If you don’t like the toast, I reckon you could still fix a sandwich,” Joey suggested, trying to direct Mathew’s attention away from bashing toast. “I saw some peanut butter in one of the cabinets.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Mathew turned away from the plates, settling down on the couch with no food in hand. He sat where Meowth had been previously — right around where Joey had laid the scrapbook down.

“I’ve had kookier breakfasts before. Plain old toast is nothing to me!” Jermy took two of the plates, handed one to Joey, and then promptly crammed an entire slice into his mouth.

“Woah!” Joey lurched back, both impressed and mildly disgusted.

“Huh?” It took Jermy a moment to realize what had caught his attention. “Oh! Yeah, when you’re as dexterous as me, you can do some surprising things. Like speed-eat to save time!”

“It’s impressive, considering Jermy’s dexterity is below-average,” ORB quipped.

“Hey!”

Joey nodded along with them. From time to time, Jermy would sneak this kind of advice to them — subtle teaching moments about what it’s like to be a pokémon rather than a human. The crocodile found it a little silly. Everyone here recognizes that Meowth already knows, right?

Tap, tap, tap…

The gentle knocks on Meowth’s door may have been softer than a squished pillow, but with no other morning bustle outside, there was nothing to drown it out. Meowth wasted no time in making for the door, half-eaten bread in his paw as he pulled it open. “Oh. Demurke.”

“H-hi, Meowth! I hope you’re…doing okay.” The crow was just outside, peering over Meowth’s shoulder to get a look into the living room. It was tough for Joey to make her out without standing up and looking harder — her dark feathers blended into the twilight outside. “Is everyone a-awake in there?”

Jermy’s ears perked in surprise at the sound of her voice. He briskly marched over to her, forcing Meowth to press himself against the wall so he could pass. “Yeah, we’re rearing to go! How about you? I thought you were still setting up.”

“I was…” she said. “David sent me. I-it’s taking longer to get ready than h-he thought it would. He’s moving th-the start time...back an hour.”

“Back an…” Jermy groaned. “Of course. When any one of us is late, it’s a whole mess, but when he’s late—” The rodent cut himself off at the sight of Demurke’s expression. “Well, I guess that means we don’t have to rush?”

“Yeah, e-exactly!” Even from this distance, Joey could see her red eyes shifting between Jermy and Meowth, a wing raising to her chest. “Then, I guess I should…” She firmly dropped her wing back down. “Would it be okay i-if I stayed here instead of going back?”

“Are you sure?” the cat pushed off the wall, getting in front of Jermy. “It sounded like you were busy.”

“Yeah, but i-it’s been so long since we…hung out together! Outside o-of work, I mean.”

Meowth slouched a little, his gaze narrowing. “I guess it’s fine.” Despite his demeanor, he backed away from the doorframe, letting her through. “If you need to kill some time, there’s probably something good on TV.” He eyed Mathew curiously. “Any recommendations?”

“As if I’d know any TV shows here…” Still, Mathew stretched and got to his feet, moving towards the box across from the couch.

However, Demurke beat him to it. “N-no, I’ll get it…!” she insisted as her wings brushed the bottom of the box.

“—Alliance finally WRAPPED UP its debate with the Great Church of Scolton LAST NIGHT!” The line-laden screen flicked to life, showing a big-mouthed purple pokémon standing before a towering building surrounded by arid, cracked dirt. “It’s official: Legendary War XXII is now OFFICIALLY the GREAT LEGENDARY WAR! The product of SIX days’ worth—”

The screen flicked off, filling the room with an empty buzz. “And there’s...the channel-changing button,” Demurke told Mathew.

Color came back to the TV, but what was there now was completely different. An animated fox with a pure black pelt bounded through off-color hills, chasing after a violet star spinning through a sky full of shapes. The camera stilled on a shot of the fox’s face, contrasted by white, angular eyes.

Demurke’s red eyes lit up as brightly as theirs. “Oh! Is this…Every Star a Catcher?”

“Is that what this show’s called?” Joey asked. He felt like he’d never seen anything quite like it before.

“Yeah.” Meowth filtered back into the living room. “It’s about that fox, Catcher, keeping stars who accidentally fall out of the star world from hitting the ground, then putting them back in the sky. It’s pretty good.”

“Y-you’re a fan?!” She looked to him in surprise. “I a-always wanted to give it a try, b-but…I’ve never gotten the chance.”

He shrugged. “It was good background noise while I worked on assignments.”

Mathew plopped back down. “I mean, we’re not going anywhere for an hour, right? If you wanna watch this umbreon, Demurke…”

She was so eager that she dropped onto the floor, right in front of the TV. Her hat blocked Joey’s view of the TV, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

“You know Catcher isn’t a pokémon, right?” Meowth passed a look at the couch before sitting down on the floor with her. The only open space on the couch was between him and Mathew.

The reptile squinted at Meowth. “You’re telling me that’s not just a stylized umbreon?”

“I bet your britches umbreon was the inspiration, but that doesn’t make them the same!” Jermy took the floor next to the couch, passing both of them a little glare as he sat down. Joey got the sense he was trying to tell them something, but he couldn’t figure out what, so the crocodile elected not to speak.

Besides, the show was starting. He didn’t want to talk over that.

“Well, that kind of sucked.”

Mathew’s remark punctuated the rolling of credits as a new show overtook Every Star a Catcher. Jermy had fallen asleep five minutes in, leaving just the recruits, Meowth, Demurke, and ORB as the ones who made it to the end.

“I wouldn’t say it was bad,” Joey said, “but I ain’t really sure what it was trying to say.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Mathew said. “I mean, nothing wrong with a show not being serial, but if you’re gonna be episodic, you should at least do it right.”

Demurke looked away from them both. Joey swore he heard her mumble, “I-I thought it was nice…”

“What was so wrong about it?” Meowth asked, whiskers grazing the static as he flicked the TV off with his claw.

Mathew began to count off on a hand. “It didn’t have interesting characters…” He raised a thumb. “It wasn’t funny…” He raised the rest of his hand. He blinked, and then, with no third digit to raise, lowered it back down. “The visuals were inconsistent…”

“You sound like you’re describing an art gallery,” Meowth said. “This is an animation. Allowing pokémon to express themselves through unique visuals is the point of the show.”

Huh, Joey hadn’t really thought about that. “Well, if that’s what it’s all about—”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Mathew interrupted. “I happen to prefer shows that make me think, that’s all.”

Meowth rolled his eyes. “I really hope you don’t always have to scratch your beard and say ‘hmm, this episode really stimulated my understanding of philosophical concepts’ for entertainment. That sounds very draining.”

“And I hope that you don’t always have to be such a — wait,” Mathew’s expression went from irritated to icy. “I didn’t tell you I had a beard.”

The room went dead silent. Demurke’s head suddenly snapped back, beaded eyes aimed at the panicked Meowth. Meanwhile, Mathew’s gaze shifted from the cat to him. Joey could feel his grasp on the couch cushion tighten as his leg leaned back...and made contact with the scrapbook.

Busted.

“Joey, what the hell?!” Mathew swiftly reached down, grabbed the scrapbook, he pried it open. “God, you got little gray furs on the pages and everything.” Under his mask, Joey could see grit teeth as he plucked a fur and tossed it on the floor.

Joey reached towards him. “Mathew, I can explain—”

“Giving you my scrapbook wasn’t an excuse for you to go showing it off!” he snapped, brushing Joey’s hand away and keeping him on his side of the couch. “Especially not to him. Is this what you talked about in that gondola?”

Joey clutched the brim of his hat. “Well what’s the big deal, anyway? Our humanity’s a worse-kept secret than buried treasure in Times Square! Everyone here already knows what he figured out!”

Mathew hissed, “But Meowth didn’t know that she knows.” He pointed with the claw of his thumb to the corner of the room, in the space between the TV and the glass wall. Demurke had huddled there, red-coated wings covering her beak. The brim of her hat masked over her eyes.

…Oh.

Rubbing salt into the wound, ORB, on the floor by Jermy’s body, punctuated the moment with a blunt, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Meowth shifted awkwardly. “If it’s any compensation—”

You stay out of this.” Mathew’s near-yell was enough to startle the pikachu awake, punctuated by a yelp and a few kicks. Without skipping a beat, he was back on Joey, hugging the scrapbook to his chest. “This is exactly what I was warning you about! You know why he’s being so buddy-buddy with you now, Joey? Because you’re his free ticket into worming his way back into my life!”

Frustration boiled in Joey’s throat. “That ain’t true! I’m the one who got him to team up with me, and I got him to read! All Meowth wants is to patch things up with y’all. If you’re gonna get hoppin’ mad, at least get hoppin’ mad at the right folk!”

Right after the words fell from Joey’s maw, a cacophony of emotions rippled through Mathew. First, he looked towards Joey with an intense rage. That rage faded into a strained expression, then contemplation. There was a split-second where the life fled from his eyes, and when they returned, they showed...despair.

“Shut up.” Mathew rose from the couch. Tears streamed down over his mask as his glare fixated on Meowth. “I know what you want. What you all want.”

Meowth’s lips trembled, but nothing came from his mouth.

Joey, meanwhile, recoiled at the remark. “Hah? What are you saying?”

Mathew didn’t even acknowledge him. “We have work in half an hour, right?” He dropped the scrapbook onto the table. “Leave this in your room or whatever. I’m going to get ready.” And just like that, he climbed the stairs and left them there.

Joey and Meowth passed shameful looks. In the corner, Demurke sat there, completely curled into herself. The confused Jermy pulled off his goggles and bandana, opting to fiddle with them instead of address what he’d almost slept through.

The cracking dawn cast deep shadows into the condo. Sitting on that table, Joey swore the scrapbook’s was the deepest.
 
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Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. lugia
  5. quilava-fobbie
  6. sneasel-kate
  7. heliolisk-fobbie
Hey, a little short on time and energy to do the bump to my Psychic Sheep review series that I originally planned on doing tonight, but I decided to do the next best thing and stick my head in the door for a fic that I've long been curious about but never gotten around to checking out, especially one that's another team effort, which aren't exactly common birds on the scene. So yeah, I'm feeling in the mood for some Double-Edged to see what all the hubbub and Teletubbies jokes are all about.

Alright, kicking things right off with...

Prologue

The man peered outside from the heavy curtain covering the window of his second story bedroom. He looked down on the streets below him, dimly lit only by the moon's light piercing through the blanket of gray clouds looming above. The street lights had been out for ages. Nobody bothered to fix them up after they were harvested.

Though hard to see, the man could make out two figures standing in the street in front of his driveway. He couldn't make out who they were, but he knew what they were here for. He shook his head at their ignorance, but he couldn't drop the constricting sense of dread. So the man just stood there, unmoving, watching.

Mechanical parts whirred and stirred outside, and just as swiftly as the marauders had arrived, they vanished into the night. The machine in his lawn made sure no cowards like them would ever step foot in his house. Watching it succeed brought a wave of euphoria to the man. Victory.

It didn't last long.

Getting some Rick Sanchez vibes off this guy already. Though this dude sure is confident about his killer sentry bots to just stand there without any form of weapon at his side to deal with out-and-out marauders in case things went really south.

I personally feel that it might have made more sense to describe the two guys casing the protag's house and the "Marauder Mulcher 3000" in a bit more detail. But meh. It's dark, and the protag has zero incentives to pop on a light, so it still works.

He yawned again — a sign it was time to throw himself at the bed again once more. [ ] He tossed and turned, but no comfort came. It never did would. Many months had passed since this room, now nearly barren besides the bed and a lone dresser, had last felt like home.

Some suggested phrasing tweaks, though you actually never did describe your protag actually hopping into bed. You either want to drop in a sentence having him do just that explicitly, or if he watched everything from earlier from his bed, you want to be explicit about that in narration in the earlier paragraphs, and then have him do something like sink back into it here.

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

He turned his exhausted body to face the other side of his room. There was nothing there… Big mistake. He was already welling up with tears. The man shambled out of the bed. Now he needed something to drown out the pain.

I think the implication is that he got a lover/family killed off there a few months ago, but it's admittedly hard to read between the lines here. I think that you could afford to be a little more unsubtle about hinting about that if that's the case, since I'm not sure if things quite work at the moment with how hazy his "turmoil and regrets" or his "big mistake" is at the moment. Even something as simple as something like "There used to be another bed on the other end, but he sold it off some time ago. He didn't have any use for it. Not anymore." implies a lot about what those regrets and the like entail.

He stumbled to the kitchen, the perfect place to distract himself. There were plenty of midnight snacks lying around that he could munch on to fill in the empty space where sleep should go. Or perhaps he could drink the night away. That'd be easy. Nice, even. Slowly, he reached for the refrigerator door and—

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

The light was so overwhelming. "What the fuck?!" he exclaimed as his back began to slide down the door until he was sitting on the wooden floor. With unnerving accuracy, his hands slid into a low kitchen drawer and pulled a knife. "Get back! I-I'm not ready to go crazy yet!"

Not really sure if I'm feeling the "I'm not ready to go crazy yet" line. If the protag has a history of something like psychotic episodes, there's probably a smoother way to say it in dialogue. Even something as simple as "I-I don't need to lose my mind now of all (damn) times!" might sound a bit more organic assuming that "crazy yet" is indeed a reference to past issues.

Also, A: I couldn't help but read the protag's dialogue in Rick Sanchez's voice, B: I'm surprised he didn't sic a killer robot on his fridge or something after discovering a talking light inside of it.
:loltias:


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

The man was sure he understood what this was now. Rather than quell them with gluttonous coping methods, his brain had decided the best option to counter his overwhelming feelings was with an equally overwhelming dosage of lunacy. Maybe the two guys up front were a distraction for a third out back who tampered with the air in the house to get his food? No, that didn't make any sense. This had to be something else.

"Let me guess," he said defeatedly, accepting how far he had fallen as the knife was put back in its place. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

I'd personally split the protag's dialogue off into its own paragraph. Also, you know your setting has problems when you need to maintain an air supply for your own house.

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

The man sat there, flabbergasted. [ ]

"That's...a question. But yeah, I've played a few games before. What about them?"

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

Maybe his first assertion wasn't far off after all. The man sighed and shook his head, fear fading to comedy. "Really? Of all things to imagine, I dream up a guy preaching to me about alternate dimensions made up by a corporation for profit? Good going, me."

Right, this was the part that brought on that Teletubby joke on SR's stream. I'll admit, I can kinda see where it's coming from since "by the way, this multibillion dollar franchise of cartoon characters is really real somewhere out there" is really hard to pull off without feeling jarring, and usually involves weird stuff like dreams literally coming to life somehow or some sort of alien presence trying to assume a form that people are comfortable with kinda like what Digimon Tamers strongly implies is going on towards the later part of the season through the Digignomes.

If you're open to suggestions, one really lazy and meta sidestep to this would basically be to take a page from Pokémon's beta history, and have protag's analogue to Pokémon be something else, like in this throwaway example that also expands his thought process a bit:

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

The man sat there, flabbergasted. He remembered growing up with some sort of dippy cartoon and game series that was called something like that. More innocent entertainment for a more innocent age where people could take it for granted the streetlights would be on at night and it was safe to sleep unguarded. Except, he distinctly remembered it was called something different...

"That's certainly... a question. Though do you mean 'Cap(s)u(le )Mon(sters)'?" he asked. "I mean, yeah, I've played a few games before. What about them?"

"No, I mean Pokémon. Not the games you grew up with," the voice explained. "I... suppose there's some similarities, but in my world, Pokémon are real, living creatures. Not bits of data on a cartridge."

Maybe his first assertion wasn't far off after all. The man sighed and shook his head, fear fading to mirth. "Really? Of all things to imagine, I dream up a guy preaching to me about alternate dimensions populated by knockoffs of cartoon animals churned out by some corporation for profit? Good going, me."

Twofer of a lazy sidestep to the "Teletubbies" problem while making a meta nod to franchise history and how your readers would understand Pokémon in their real life. Though there's other ways of handling things if that's not quite your and your team's cuppa joe. As an aside, remember to keep your capitalization of 'Pokémon' consistent one way or another.

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

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

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

I hope that portal voice had help finding this guy, since I can already see the level of epic fail that would've ensued if it'd approached some 5-year old girl instead of the guy who might as well be Rick Sanchez with less of a blue streak. :V

The man opened up the binder. Various papers filled its rings, showing every angle inside and out of this seven-foot, circular device. No easy creation, that's for sure. "And you expect me to make this big, complex thing...how, exactly?"

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

Protag: "I'm sorry, and how did you know to find me with all of this again?"
:what:

Voice: "There... may have been a few thousand attempts before you. Let's not talk too much about those."

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

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

The man slouched against the wall. "Yeah. It's twenty sixty four," he mocked. "You're screwed, I'm screwed, the planet's screwed, it's the goddamn apocalypse. What about it?"

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

Oh hey, I figured out the voice's identity:


:V

More seriously, that doesn't quite feel like the pitch you wanna give to a guy who started out thinking that you were a hallucination he was having. Maybe some sort of acknowledgement of "we both know your world sucks, you can see that binder in your hands as well as I can, what do you have to lose?" might've made sense as framing.

Protag: "And I'm supposed to read this how when for all I know, you wrote this all up in Wingdings?"
:what:

Voice: "It's transcribed into your writing for your convenience."
Protag: "... How did you manage this from another world again?"
Voice:


The man paused on this claim. He tried to have doubts about this miraculous encounter, but this idea gave him a warm but foreign feeling he could no longer deny. Was this...hope? He wanted it to be hope. "Well, it's worth a try, at least," he conceded.

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

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

"Good," the voice interrupted, leaving the man's question unheard. "Until we meet again."

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

Satisfied, the man closed the binder, stood up, and placed it on the kitchen table. He then made his way towards the dining room that, in all its years, had never been used. He would need more space than just his workshop for this new project.

See prior notes about the "what do you have to lose?" suggestion, since I think that it'd lead in better here. Also, it might make sense for protag to leaf through the blueprints briefly and then realize "Oh holy crap, this could actually work. This is really happening." before having that moment of hope, since without a spot check, the protag has no reason to believe that the binder's contents aren't:

A: A hallucination
B: A prank with children's doodles drawn inside
C: Written in an alien script that he'll never decipher in a million years

Ditto some sort of moment at the final paragraph to proverbially pinch himself to make sure that he's not dreaming.

Protag: "Well, that was rude. But at least we confirmed that I'm not crazy here." >_>;

Eight months. Eight long, grueling months were what it had taken to construct this mechanical masterwork, this thesis of progress. It looked miserable, only barely blending matching with the blueprints' design and having been bent down to fit the ceiling of his dining room, but thanks to some mercilessly expensive purchases for materials online, he had finally completed the project. For the thirteenth time.

Waaaaait. How on earth is there working online delivery when there's just marauders casually roaming neighborhoods at night?
:sceptical:


The man spent a solid two minutes praying for his machine to finally work once and for all. He was desperate now. Ever since that chance meeting, he had wanted nothing more than to meet whoever this D.E. in the binder was and, finally, [find something that could get his mind off things.]

After the man finished bargaining his soul, having bargained along with everything else he still had aside from the snazzy-looking suit and burgundy polka-dotted tie he had put on just in case he ended up warping into a meeting or something, he decided it was time. Slowly, he pressed the button on the left side. Tiny streaks of sparks began dancing across the ends of the circular machine, becoming growing more frequent with each bolt. The man stepped away, fearing an explosion the contraption would blow up in his face. However, after a few seconds, the rip was formed with no fanfare: creating an opening resembling a black, empty void.

Yeeeah, this is why I felt that protag's encounter in the last scene needed to ground him a bit better, since if he's going to sink 8 months and most of his wealth into chasing the promise of another world, he'd better have been very convinced that he was chasing something that was real.

... Or else, things in his neighborhood should've gone to pot enough in the interim to motivate him to keep doubling down, but that doesn't quite come through either right now.

Also, the [find something that could get his mind off things.] I think feels more than a little understated given that he's literally sold and bartered off everything except his house and clothes to finance the 13th attempt to build his portal. Even something simple like [escape this withered husk of a planet] I feel matches the vibe and protag's desperation a bit better.

“Yes!” the man shouted in blissful joy. It was done! He could finally leave this awful Earth! With that out of the way, he could begin assembling his supplies for the journey. He searched his house up and down, making sure he had everything he wanted to bring with him on his potentially permanent vacation.

His special spinoff project breaking away from the blueprints? Take! Check! An emergency lunch? Take! Check! That scrapbook on the shelf? Uh… Well… He’d regret it later if he didn’t take it. And how could he leave behind his computer?! Thank God for the protective sleeves he modded on the inside of his backpack…

Huh, a thought occurred to the man. I wonder what Solceans worship? Don't they have, what's his name...Arceus? Is D.E. Arceus? He shrugged it off for now. He'd get those answers when he found D.E.

I'd recommend breaking up your first paragraph here, though how exactly does the protag learn about Arceus again? Is that supposed to be residual knowledge of Pokémon as an in-setting series? Or did the voice contact him after that night and tell him more about how things worked in their world?

Mind you, if you and the team do come down firm on not making Pokémon an existing franchise in-setting, the way that the protag comes to that conclusion probably needs to change too.

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

No, no. He couldn't think about that. It was an awful loss — the hardest part of these eight months — but he was used to that sort of thing, and besides, it was time for happier days. All he needed was one last look at Nevada and he was gone.

I feel like the fact that this prologue is set in real-world Nevada ought to have come up a lot earlier than it did here. Since just the dysfunctional state of the world would make it alien to the audience once they learned "by the way, this dude lives 10 minutes outside of Reno".

The man stared out the window of his dining room. Unlike his meeting with the light, the night was clear. The moon glowed upon emptied streets. Nobody was outside… Not that it mattered, since he didn't know anybody in this town anymore. Not a soul in the area would really miss him.

The man grabbed his backpack, rubbed his chin for a moment — this might be the last time he'd have a beard, after all — and then stepped into the rip.

I mean, it might be the last time you have any number of anatomical features, but let's not get into that right now. :V

Protag: "... Wait, is this thing just going to stay on behind me? What if I get followed in?"
:fearfullaugh:


Alright, my final thoughts: Altogether, I think it's an interesting premise. Since indirectly, you've established that Solceus is much higher on the tech scale than most other PMD settings floating around out there, which leans into the "twenty minutes into the future" setting where a guy can build working killer sentry robots in his garage. And it definitely made me curious as to the brave new world on the other side of the portal.

As for stuff I thought could've been done better. I personally felt that the protag went a little too 0-60 for "risk financial ruin for the sake of escaping to an alien world", and that his thought process for going "this could actually work" didn't quite evolve the way it ought to have to get him into that state. There were a few things that I felt were a little too hazy or underdescribed when they didn't need to be, for example those regrets of the protag. Like even if it's not time narratively to just lay out what happened, you probably want to give more solid hints than that as to what's up with him. Also, there's the whole "Pokémon are cartoons but also real" thing, but I'll say that that one potentially isn't that big of a deal-breaker for your story. After all, Guiding Light does the exact same thing, and even if I don't agree with it there either, the story as a whole still holds up even with that being a thing in its setting.

So from one member of a writing team to another, kudos @LukerUpgradez . It might take a while for me to get back to this story past the prologue, but I'll be wishing you and the gang the best as you plug away at your story.
 
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Chapter 9

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 9: Impending Judgment
You’re not getting mad at the right people.

Even after recollecting himself, Joey’s sentiment rung through Mathew’s head like a hammered bell. It was not the first time somebody told him that — God knows that one of those times was what shot through his mind at that moment. But even on Solceus, it wasn’t something he took well to unpacking.

Who the hell even is the ‘right person’ here? Like he said, he knows Meowth’s the exact kind of person to use Joey for his own gain, and yet even when pressured, Joey is insistent that the responsibility is his. He may have choice words for the both of them, but the last thing he wanted to do was pin the responsibility on Joey. He’s an amnesiac, after all; Mathew understood he had good reasons to act out.

Mathew had been dropped onto a forked road with paths that only led to dead-ends. Blame Joey or blame nobody. The unacceptable or the unthinkable. How was he supposed to choose? Straining himself to find a conclusion he couldn’t grasp had been enough to deflate him before he was forced along to start his workday with the others. Perhaps that was for the best.

The walk from the condo to the Resort was underlined by mixed feelings. Jermy’s smile had returned to him, spurred by a wisecrack or two from ORB, while the teasing Demurke seemed to have put it all behind her already. Mathew attributed their recovered mood to the second episode of Every Star a Catcher he could hear them watch downstairs. But Joey didn’t say a word, and neither did he.

In their defense, it wasn’t like there was much to talk about. This wasn’t their first walk, and there was nothing out of the ordinary about it…at least, until that rickety elevator dropped into the dirt.

It started with a distant rumble. Then it grew, and it grew, and then the doors opened to wholly different Waregle than the one they saw before. The entire area around the pool was crowded by pokémon of all kinds — young and old, big and small, clothed and unclothed. The roar of chatter was smothered by the echo of the complex as it filled their ears. Those piles of junk that lined the walls had been cleared away to make room for them all.

“Holy shit…!” Mathew exclaimed. He turned to his recruiters. “What’s going on?”

Demurke giggled. “W-we might’ve prepared a bit of a…a surprise for you!”

Jermy’s ears flicked. “I didn’t know me we were gonna have this many people here!”

“Neither did w-we!”

That was when Mathew noticed David. He was standing on one of the platforms over the pool, carrying an open cardboard box whose contents Mathew couldn’t make out. Once he saw them at the elevator, he put the box down, then promptly took flight. “Mathew! Joey! Just who I was waiting for!” he called as he landed in front of the two.

“Uh, hi,” Joey said. “What kind of rodeo’s going on in the Waregle?”

“Oh, them?” David gestured to the crowd. Some of the pokémon stepped towards them, while others kept their distance. “They’re actually here for you! And a few other recruits, but mostly you!”

Mathew peered into the crowd, trying to make out faces. A lot of them were pokémon he wasn’t familiar with — and the ones he might have recognized kept shifting around too much. How was he supposed to commit them to memory if they kept darting behind the corners? “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah! A whole boat-load of people got invited for this!” Jermy said. “You see, we—”

“Actually, maybe you should hold on the explanation, Jermy.”

David’s assertion make the pikachu’s grin falter. “Well, if you want to explain it instead, then by golly, be my guest…”

“It’s not that.” David’s own jubilant demeanor faded as he addressed Mathew and Joey. “While Demurke was gone, somebody came over and delivered a message. The head of the army division wants a meeting with you.”

“In front of all these folks?” Joey asked.

David shook his head, then tilted it towards the portal room on their left. “In Fascamile Town Hall.”

Mathew looked towards the line of portals. He reread the message on one’s rim: ‘Fascamile Town Hall — NO ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION. ENDPOINT GUARDED 24/7.’ He’d noticed it before, when Demurke had been talking about her home. Was that where the leader of the army worked, too? No wonder it was protected.

“...Oh.” Demurke clicked her beak, looking towards the portal machine nervously.

Jermy just sighed. “Well, what’s another delay at this point?” Taking initiative, he leapt up and smacked the button on the side.

All this left a rough taste in Mathew’s mouth. First David delayed their arrival, and now he’s dragging them off to an unrelated meeting? This morning had already gotten bad enough. Still, there wasn’t much he could do about it now. He’d go to Fascamile, put on his best face and—

—nearly kissed the sharp end of a spear with his muzzle.

While Mathew was absentmindedly stepping through the opened portal, a yellow, cat with slitted eyes — an abra — had moved to point to the weapon at him, barring his entrance. Beside the abra was a goat with a green, leafy mane, poised to charge Mathew with his curved horns.

Mathew gasped and reflexively brandished his club. “Hey! Back off!”

“W-Waaaaait!” Demurke leapt in front of Mathew, lightly pushing him away from the abra. “He’s just…one of the recruits,” she told the guard. “They’re g-getting called in for a meeting.”

Both guards dropped their stances. Their aggressive expressions sunk into incredibly bored ones. They almost seemed upset that there was no threat. “He’s outside,” the abra told them before stepping aside.

Mathew heard several heaves of relief behind him. Even ORB supplied his own sigh — as in, he literally said “Sigh”. “Fascamile Town Hall is the second most-guarded facility the organization has,” he informed him. “I would recommend letting David lead. Even Jermy’s been smacked by the oblivious guard here and there.”

Fascamile Town Hall was a Ship of Theseus of a facility. As the group navigated the tight hallways, Mathew could pick out the difference between the historical wooden structures and the replacements made of drywall. What was strange was how haphazard the remodeling seemed — instead of completely renovating certain halls one at a time, most were a half-complete mix of both styles. It almost looked easier to guide people to specific halls over the dozens of lightly-labeled rooms they passed by.

The obtuseness of it all almost made the cubone shudder. If he didn’t keep track of the way he came, he could see himself losing track of it easily. Now he understood how Jermy could have convinced the workers here that he didn’t belong — the uncertainty would’ve given him away.

“How do y’all navigate this place…?” Joey asked the question on both of their behalfs.

“It g-gets easier with practice!” Demurke assured them. “Lose track of your room enough times, and, y’know—”

Mathew stopped in his tracks. “You live in here?”

Demurke flitted a wing. “Well, it is…a little weird, I know. B-but it’s nice! I have a r-really nice room, and so do…” She trailed off, so quiet Mathew couldn’t hear that last part.

Before Mathew could interject, David peered over his shoulder and gestured them forward. “You can talk about Demurke’s cool room later, you two. We have a crowd waiting for us!”

“Right…” Mathew wasn’t going to just write that off though. Who lives in a town hall?

As David led them towards an exit, Mathew noticed a familiar ambiance outside, only muffled by the half-finished walls. It was only when he walked through the wide open entryway that he realized this was the first time he’d seen a storm on Solceus.

The wind howled as the ceaseless shower was blown astray. Raindrops battered his skull mask, making plink after plink after plink. The thunder that crashed down far in the distance was nothing like the playful sparks of Jermy’s making — they rumbled lowly, and the flashes lit up the flat campus like stadium lights.

Wrapped in a chain link fence the height of two Davids, the yard of town hall had been battered from use. Tall grass, lines of bushes, and the occasional hackberry tree dotted the space, but so did dirt craters, felled trunks, and metal equipment left outside to rust. Mathew could guess the source of it all.

A squad of pokémon was doing laps around the premise with grit teeth and loud groans. Some were small, like the machop pumping his arms with all his might, but there were a few titans out there. A big-bladed kingambit, a gray dinosaur with a blue hard-head, and a snorlax clearly out of his element… There was even a poor Unovan bird in flight despite the weight of the downpour. He heard a voice yelling at them with the cadence of a drill sergeant, but it was hard to make any sense of what was said while the storm disoriented him.

Out of the edge of his vision, he saw David point a wing towards one of the toppled trees. That’s it! At least, that’s what Mathew thought he heard him say. It was even harder to make him out here than in the crowd at the Waregle.

“What’s it?”

“No!” David pointed harder, looking him in the eye as he yelled louder. “Dit!”

It was then that Mathew finally made him out. He was hard to notice at first glancee, as his unusual blue shade blended in with the hue of the rain, but the red feathers in his flowing crest gave him away. The blue pidgeot, Dit, stared down the runners with crimson eyes, one talon on the dirt and the other atop the fallen bark. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to the front of the pack as they passed. The others went past him wordlessly…at least, until the kingambit, far in the back, came up to him.

The titan keeled, hands on his knees, as he bickered and complained. Mathew couldn’t make it all out — something about tiredness. He leaned over Dit, almost shielding him from the rain. The bird pointed his beak straight up. Mathew could hear every word from him.

“Youse say you outta juice, huh? Can’t run anymore?”

It took a lot of energy not to scoff. This was the army division leader? A frail, thickly accented bird whose subordinates towered over him? He should’ve figured the army had less to offer, since that was where SEAS’ bottom of the barrel supposedly—

FWSSSHH.

The shockwave of the wind slash was louder than even the roar of lightning. Dit had leapt from the trunk and swung once with a wing behind the kingambit. The shockwave tore through the dirt like a knife carving a gash until it clashed with the fence, making it rattle in agony. The front-runner, who’d almost lapped the kingambit, had to leap away or else get caught in the blast. The complainer yelped and took off in a newfound rush, even faster than before he stopped.

Dat is what theys gonna do if ya stop moving!” Dit yelled after him.

Mathew could hardly believe what he’d just seen. That pidgeot’s single swish of the wing made every avian he’d seen until now look like a joke. With the Club’s help, Mathew thought he was starting to catch up, but suddenly the gap between his fighting skill and the rest of the world’s never felt wider. Maybe he had it backwards — the army division was always hiring because they were strong enough to handle anybody.

He looked to the alarmed Joey, clutching the strap of his hat to keep it from flying off. If they failed, would it handle them?

It took a moment for the pidgeot to notice David waving him down, and a moment more for him to peel away from the runners. He glided over to them as easily as if the weather were clear. The fierceness in his tone loosened as his sweeping gaze settled on the murkrow behind them. “Demoike! You brought da new guys!”

Demurke pulled her wings in toward her chest. “W-Well, it was…more David than me, Dad.”

Mathew resisted the urge to open his mouth, drink in the rain, and then do a spit-take. Dad?!

Dit nodded, then turned his attention to him and Joey. “Sorry for getting you boys soaked! Hadta make sure dis lot was getting dere exercise in before I turned ‘em loose.”

“What are y’all even doing out here?” Joey exclaimed. “I reckon that run would be easier than beating a bug if you waited for the storm to clear.”

“Wait for da storm to clear?” Dit chuckled, dismissing the thought. “Da toughness is da point! What ya see out dere are our weak links — delinquents or slackers so bad, da squads don’t want ‘em anymore. It’s my job to get dose fellas back on the straight ‘n narrow, both in mind and body.”

“It’s very effective.” ORB’s voice blared through his speakers. Instead of weathering the rain, he remained in the entryway some yards away, shielded by the roof of the massive half-built complex. “About eighty percent of all members inducted into Dit’s remedial program return to daily life with no further incidents after six months.”

Mathew found it hard to believe that they really changed, but he wasn’t going to challenge ORB or Dit on it. “What kind of delinquency gets you in here?”

Joey gave him a baffled, “That’s what you’re thinking about?” look. He glared back. What? Was he wrong for wanting to figure out the stakes at play?

“It’s a couple ‘a things! Picking fights, hoarding food ya don’t own, ignoring training, and proving youse a liability by…well.” Suddenly, his gaze hardened again. He marched past David, lightly brushing his wing-arm as he spun them back towards the building. “Let’s get somewhere dry,” he said firmly. “Dis is important.”

The sudden distance came down as hard as the rain did. What was Dit trying to imply about him? Based on Jermy, Demurke, and Dit’s uneasy looks, it seemed like they already knew — and it wasn’t good.

“What do y’all mean, we’re in trouble?!”

In any other situation, Mathew would be questioning the structure of Dit’s office space. The front side of his desk was as one would expect, but behind it, the floor dropped off. While everyone else sunk into beanbag chairs, Dit stood perched atop a metal bar, suspending him over the drop. It was a strange setup — but he was too focused on the matter at hand to care.

Dit glared down at them with a firm eye. “See, here ins Fascamile, we dig ourselves into some...funny business. The sort where, if word spreads around, it’ll be real ugly for everyone involved.” He leaned in, his talons scratching against the bar. “We don’t take well to blabberers.”

This was ridiculous. Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he ‘blabbered’ entirely against his will? Mathew wanted to protest, but he wasn’t stupid — he knew that calling him out would only hurt his chances of securing this job. The key to dealing with shitty bosses, from his experience, was to avoid making them mad. “What did you hear?” he asked flatly. Maybe he just wasn’t aware of the full context?

“Let’s just say we know a thing or two about what goes on around dat girl’s place.” Suddenly, Dit leaned back and fell behind his desk — or, at least it looked like it. A panicked peer around the side of the desk revealed Dit’s talons were clinging on to the bar as he hung upside-down, reaching towards the lowered floor with his beak. When he flipped himself upright, he was biting down on a sheet of paper, offering it to them.

“What the heck…?” Joey plucked the paper, stunned. Mathew could make out some monochrome shapes — him, Joey, Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, standing around in Minichino’s house. It was all from the perspective of her garden door. “How did you take this?”

“The same way we heard every word of youse bickering,” Dit answered simply. “Some rando’s been using youse as a pond to fish from. Youse gotten all worked up over it too. Not signs of a good helper, that’s for shoire.”

Mathew grimaced, shaking his head. The one time he thought he thought they were lacking in SEAS’ supervision… What had they paid Minichino to get her to hide security cameras? “You’re right, sorry. That was my mistake.” Mathew could feel his own voice wavering with frustration. He was lucky that his skull mask hid it. “This won’t be a problem, next time you check on our progress.”

“Funny you mention dat,” Dit said. “At dis rate, there won’t be a next time. We’re speeding up da recruitment — you got a week-ish tops.”

“What?!” Okay, screw that advice about not talking back. This was a blatant changing of the deal! His head snapped to David, Jermy, and Demurke as he leapt out of his chair. “Were you guys going to bother telling me, or was I just supposed to find out on my own?” he asked, annoyed.

The bashful Jermy gave him a hollow grin. “We were working on mapping out the new plan in the background…”

“As youse should!” Dit proclaimed. “I got some word on how it’s going over dere, and I’ll tell ya: I’ve seen better.”

“It’s been four days!” Mathew snapped back. “How the hell can you say that already?”

“Four days can say a whole lot more about how a ‘cruit will do than you think. The bois here are good at that kind of thing, thanks to da boss.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t the leader of this company either?! Am I ever going to meet the CEO of this goddamn organization?” Mathew’s tongue lashed out faster than he could think to stop it. “I am trying my best out here, but I can’t help that—”

Mathews.” Dit lowered himself, craning his neck forward towards him. An image of his attack carving the dirt flashed in Mathew’s head and extinguished the fire in his eyes. “Da new plan’s got nothing against youse. If your recent history’s any proof, youse got what it takes in dis job. If ya wanna get mad, get mad at whoever’s meddling with your shot.”

Mathew stood under Dit’s gaze for only a few seconds before sinking back into the chair. Dit had stricken him where it hurt — he couldn’t refute that somebody had mettled with his pursuits.

The pidgeot’s beak contorted into a grin, seeming satisfied. He then asked the recruiters, “Youse got a plan to get these stragglers in ship-shape?”

The decidueye, looking jaded, nodded. “As Jermy said, we’re working on it.”

Dit plucked the photo from Joey’s hands and dropped it behind his head. “Then I believe we’s all done here. I’m expecting better things from youse.” Dit swept his wings, ushering them out of the room. As they did, he added, “Oh, and Demoike?”

“Y-yes…?” She came up to his desk, and he whispered to her something that Mathew couldn’t hear. “…Okay. I’ll…I’ll t-try.” When Demurke rejoined them, she kept brushing her wing across the rim of her hat, like if she didn’t check for it, it would fly off.

The moment the door shut, any remaining formality fell away, and a fog of despair clouded them all. Between its awkward interior and its raging exterior, Facsimile offered them no peace of mind.

“That went about as good as a gear in a gutter,” Joey muttered. Mathew mustered a nod in agreement.

“Well, there is a bright-side here.” David’s tone did not inspire confidence. “Now we know just how important this event we set up for you in the Waregle really is.”

Mathew tapped his bone club against the wall. Things had gone so smoothly before. Now he was being told there was a real chance he’d be on the front lines of a war he had no understanding of. All he wanted was a peaceful place to live and work — was that too much to ask?

Dit was right about one thing, though. This was all his fault. The moment he entangled himself in Mathew’s life, he’d been sent down a path towards the destruction of everything he’d come here for. Mathew refused to take that sitting down. He didn’t care what it took. He would get his job with Jermy and David, he would get his peace, and most importantly, he would make Meowth a non-issue.

He suddenly swung his weapon and stomped down the hallway, leading the group in the direction he thought the portal back to the Waregle was stored.

“Mathew…?” Joey lifted his arms, worry in his tone.

“We have a job to do, don’t we? Let’s go.”
 
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Chapter 10

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 10: All Fun and Games
The Waregle’s trap room was definitely not designed to fit this many people in it. Mathew could feel the overcrowding the moment David opened the door for him, Joey, Jermy, ORB, and Demurke. Not only was there the six of them to filter in, but there were already four strangers taking up the space.

“Beverly, I sense visitors,” a woman with a forced gravelly voice spoke. Her green hair stuck out against the white dress of her body. It bore a striking resemblance to a pokémon Mathew knew called gardevoir…maybe it was its pre-evolution?

“Really? Well I’ll be!” Up came a species that, in contrast, Mathew needed no introduction for. The beaver-like bidoof sped towards him and Joey at breakneck pace. With buck teeth that thick, Mathew worried that she’d make a dent in the floor if she tripped. “It’s a croc! And a…reptile guy!” she looked to David expectantly.

David stepped aside and held out a wing. “These are Mathew and Joey! Please, give them a warm welcome.”

You’re Mathew?!” A rabbit with fur resembling a red and black sweater darted towards the totodile. “Oh my gosh, I’m a super huge f—”

“Uh.” Joey pointed a finger towards the cubone.

“Oh.” He leapt towards Mathew, grabbing his hand and shaking it with enough ferocity to strain his arm. “Call me Randy! I’m a super huge fan! At least, I think I am!”

Panic spiked through Mathew, remembering the last time he’d learned that somebody was a fan. “Uh, thanks,” he said mildly, trying not to let anything show. “What do you mean, ‘think’, though?”

“I can explain.”

Mathew was surprised by the source of the bubbling voice. In the corner of the room was a small mech of sorts filled with water. Rubbery, humanoid hands and feet gave it mobility, wobbling with the slosh of the fluid contained within. Behind the glass of the mech’s core was a lone red fish — a magikarp. As the machine hobbled closer, he noticed a blue type stone embedded into the container. That must’ve been how the fish controlled the arms and legs.

“We were discussing this when we heard you were participating,” she told him. The mech stood still as she spoke, devoid of body language. “We don’t remember everything about you, but Randy and I know your videos well enough.”

Mathew had never felt more lucky. They definitely had no idea what had happened, if that was all they knew. “Awesome!” he exclaimed. “It’s crazy how many people I’ve run into that recognize me. I haven’t felt this famous in years…”

“You know about Mathew?” Joey turned to David. “Just who the heck are these guys?”

David’s answer was simple. “Former humans, just like you. Today, they’re your competition.”

Now it all made sense. The way David was going to make him and Joey look palatable was to put them in direct comparison with these other recruits. The crowd was here to watch them compete!

“So that means you guys are recruits in other locations?” Mathew asked. He was confirming more for Joey’s sake than himself.

“Yeah!” the bidoof, Beverly, said, shimmying next to the gardevoir look-alike. “My bud Kell and I have been toilin’ away over in Kötfabrik, while Randy and Megan’ve been livin’ in…where did ya say it was again?”

“Cosaline,” the rabbit, Randy, said.

Mathew scoffed to himself. Where the hell were you two when we made that cover story?

Joey took a sweeping look at the four fellow recruits. “So y’all don’t remember anything, just like us, but…you know about Mathew?”

“Not all of us,” Kell, the gardevoir-like — kirlia? — said. “You’re an enigma to Beverly and me. But clearly, he means something to those two.”

Joey went silent for a moment. His maw clenched tightly. “...Gotcha.”

Ugh. As if Mathew needed another reason to feel remorseful over what he’s kept from Joey, now these two random strangers were here to rub it in. Was there really no way for him to give Joey his answers without peeling the bandage?

He puffed and put that aside for now. What mattered was this competition here and now. He had to beat these four recruits in whatever challenge David was putting in front of them. Beverly, Kell, Randy, and… Huh. Why was that magikarp, Megan, looking at Joey so intensely?

“Alright, sounds like we’re about ready!” David exclaimed. “You’ll hear about how all this is going to work once I’m out there. I’ll be serving as your announcer!”

Jermy scoffed as he hopped into one of the chairs in front of the monitors. “Of course you’re playing announcer…”

“You guys ain’t a part of this?” Joey asked Jermy and Demurke.

“Well, it’s not that we aren’t a part of it!” Jermy sounded a little defensive. “It’s just that, you know, during the event—”

“Jermy and Demurke’s job was only to help David prepare the Waregle and attract a crowd,” ORB explained on his behalf. “While you’re out there, they’ll make sure nobody sneaks into this room and messes with the traps.”

Demurke took the other chair. “H-Hey, don’t worry! You won’t…really n-need our support out there. There’s p-plenty of people here to—!” The moment she turned towards the monitors, she gasped. Before Mathew could react, she pressed a button, and one of the monitors cut to a different angle of the Waregle. Through the monitor, Mathew could see an uncountable number of pokémon walking and talking around the pool, their noise piercing through the thin walls of the trap room. “Th-there’s a whole crowd,” she explained mildly.

“Man, I’m getting all fired up now!” Randy exclaimed. “Can’t we just get this started already?!”

“Hey, you said it!” David pushed open the door and was out in a flash. Less than a minute later, he was standing atop one of the highest platforms, clutching a wireless microphone in his hand.

Good morning, Waregle!” David’s voice boomed through the whole complex, powered by speakers Mathew couldn’t see. His greeting was enough to get the crowd cheering for him from below. Half of the recruits watched the commotion through the cameras, while the other half peered past the open door. “Welcome to the Building Bonanza Game, hosted by Emmons Labs! I, David Emmons, will be your announcer for the duration of this event.”

“Really? That’s the name he’s going with?” Megan remarked.

David stood where no criticism could reach him. “In the game to come, each of our three pairs of employees-to-be will be challenged to demonstrate all of the skills that make us so great!” He leapt down to a different platform where a cardboard box had been planted. “Each box like this holds one of several essential tools. This one has chalk!” He jumped to another one. “This one has type stones!” Then another, and another. “Basic materials! Mundane objects! Building tools! Rudimentary construction equipment! All to be used for creating the most efficient, effective, and creative weapon they can think of!”

Mathew grinned excitedly. This game was right up his alley. He could build a weapon just as interesting as the others he’d seen, no problem!

“The time limit is one hour, and the event will be contained to the obstacle courses above the pool. Recruits are free to grab, hoard, and trade boxes however they like, but if any fall in, the recruit responsible will be removed from the game. Directly harming other recruits is banned until thirty minutes remain, after which they’re free to use their own weapon and try breaking the others. Who wins? It comes down to who you all think made the best one!”

The audience roared in excitement.

Joey nudged Mathew’s shoulder. “I’m not sure about this…”

“Are you kidding?” The eager Mathew patted him on the back, trying to reassure him. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t be so sure, hun,” Beverly remarked. “I might not look like it, but I’m a bit of an engineer myself. With me as brains and Kell as brawn, we’re unstoppable!”

“When did I become the brawns here?” Kell questioned.

“It doesn’t matter which one of you is brains and which of you is brawn,” Mathew said. “We’ll still beave your asses at this.”

Beverly groaned. “Ugh, that reeks! Surely ya got something better than that!”

Mathew just gave a mad chuckle. A bad pun should be the least of her worries.

“And now, without further adieu, please give a warm welcome to our three recruit teams!”

At David’s exclamation, the six of them burst through the trap room door and took a lap around the Waregle pool. Most of the crowd eagerly parted the way for them like the Red Sea, and those who didn’t were swatted away by Megan’s mech. Randy left an arm out for high-fives.

As they moved, Mathew couldn’t help himself. His run turned into a little jig, and he began to scat a little jingle — the one that got himself on the map years ago. The crowd ate it right up.

It took them all a moment to find the starting places David intended. Mathew and Joey really had to climb to reach theirs, and the Kötfabrik recruits got so lost that David had to carry them there in his talons. The recruits ended up situated high up at three of the four corners of the pool, with the boxes dotting low-hanging platforms towards the center.

From here, Mathew could finally see just what those boxes were hiding. The two of them got a great corner — the boxes holding type stones, chalk, and household objects were closest to them. It’d be easy to throw together a weapon just from those…but Mathew could do better. He needed to do better.

Unfortunately, the boxes holding the materials and tools he’d need to build something from scratch were near the other engineers, Beverly and Kell, instead. If he wanted to go above and beyond, he’d have to fight.

Mathew glanced at his teammate. “Are you ready, Joey?”

The crocodile fidgeted with his cowboy hat. “I’m about as ready as a wrecked car.”

Not very ready then. “Hey, don’t worry,” he encouraged again. “We can do this.”

Suddenly, Joey’s head snapped away from him. “That’s not what I’m bothered by.”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” David called. They were out of time to talk. “Start moving on go. Three… Two… One… Go!

Mathew leapt through the obstacle course faster than he could think. His days of Waregle training had prepared him to shimmy along narrow paths, weave around spinning bars, and leap between course routes with little hesitation. It wasn’t without flaw — his foot nearly slipped out from under him as he stepped through a puddle — but compared to when he first arrived, he was flying. Joey was just behind, keeping in-step with his own mastery.

The cubone nearly toppled over the type stone box while trying to skid to a stop. As fast as he could, he dug a deep purple gem out and made a break for the next box. In a minute’s time, he’d handed Joey both the stone and the chalk they’d need. Perfect. Now, all he had to do was get to…

…Where did the tools box go? The platform it stood on was now devoid of cardboard. In fact, all of the boxes were gone, even the type stone box they’d passed earlier. Did somebody—?

He gasped at the sound of cardboard sliding in front of him. The chalk box…it was moving on its own! Water droplets were pushed away as it was dragged into the air, then through the air, soaring over obstacles…all the way towards Kell’s hand.

“That’s the last one.” She put down the chalk box on the wide, square platform she and Beverly stood upon. There was a pink glow coming from her hands as she did so. That must’ve been it — Kell moved the boxes to herself with psychokinesis!

Beverly chuckled, sending a raspberry in Mathew’s direction. “Ya might be a brainiac, but ya can’t make a weapon out of thin air!”

Mathew clutched his club tightly. One minute in and he was already being inconvenienced in the worst way possible. He tried to bite his irritation down — he had to keep looking good for the crowd. “Oh yeah? We’ll see who’s laughing when I whip up an invisible sword!”

“Ain’t that a psychic ability? I thought those weren’t allowed!” Joey cried.

“It’s fighting recruits that’s banned!” The decideueye rose up next to Mathew and Joey as he continued narrating for the crowd. “Looks like Beverly and Kell have made themselves a head-start! As long as they don’t bash anyone with them, they can move those boxes all they want!”

One of the recruits really didn’t take it that well — but it wasn’t them. Mathew watched as the fiery rabbit crashed onto Beverly and Kell’s platform, leaving scorch marks at the point of impact. The platform swayed from his landing, the steel chains holding it up jangling loudly. Kell responded by raising all six boxes airborne, far higher than he could jump. She pursed her lips, seeming strained by the act.

“Rrrgh, come on, give them back!” Randy spat. “This isn’t fair at all!”

“No.” Kell couldn’t have delivered it more bluntly.

Randy ranted and raved, seeming primed for attack, but after some time, he somehow had the restraint to storm off.

“On Randy’s behalf, I’m proposing a temporary truce between us.”

Mathew yelped as he whipped around. Standing on a platform above and behind them was Megan, mech standing tall. “How the hell’d you get here so fast?” he asked.

“I knew that this would happen when David explained the rules,” she explained as she quietly wiggled about inside the mech. “Getting us to ally against that kirlia was probably intended from the start.”

“But what could the four of us even do?” Joey asked. “Even if we all got in their faces at once, Kell can mind-bend that stuff faster than a rabbit on a rampage!”

Randy yelled, trying to run laps around the engineer and the psychic.

“We’d have to separate Kell from the boxes.” Mathew began pacing around, idly knocking his club against his mask as he tried to probe his brain for answers. “But fighting is banned. Is there another way?”

He recounted each of the rules, hunting for a loophole.

“As long as they don’t bash anyone with them, they can move those boxes all they want!”

“Recruits are free to grab, hoard, and trade boxes however they like…”

“but if any fall in, the recruit responsible will be removed from the game.”


Removed from the game… With the active involvement of her psychokinesis, the fate of the boxes is squarely in Kell’s hands. If she dropped the boxes into the pool below, she’d be eliminated…but David never mentioned a penalty if a recruit fell into the pool. If Kell was forced to choose between herself falling and the boxes falling, she would be forced to choose herself, right?

Mathew looked again to Beverly and Kell’s platform of choice. He witnessed it shift around a little at each of the bidoof’s steps, and that’s when the answer struck him. Those two had chosen the wrong place to set up camp.

He turned to Joey and Megan, feeling confident. “I have an idea.”

“Man, all this water’s makin’ it hard to sketch…” The bidoof set the chalk aside and tried pushing the droplets off of the platform. It just served to make her claws wet.

“Here.” Kell pushed one of the boxes past Beverly, using it as a makeshift mop.

Mathew’s eyes flicked between the two of them and his allies, quietly hopping, crawling, and bubbling their way into position. By now, Megan had passed the plan onto Randy, meaning they could put this into motion.

“Hey, mic’s off right now.” David landed next to Mathew, speaking to him in a whisper. “What’s the scheme here?”

Mathew figured a question of his own would be enough. “What’s the cost for breaking things in the Waregle?”

This seemed only to confuse him. “None, I think? We have a cleaning staff.”

“Perfect.” Mathew stood up tall and took a deep breath. “Hey Beverly! Kell!” The moment they looked at him, he made his move. He wound up, rearing back far more than necessary, flashed a grin at the audience below…and then chucked his bone club with all of his might. It hurtled through the air until it smacked — not at the recruits, but one of the chains holding up the platform.

Beverly cried out as the platform wobbled and shook. “Whaddaya think you’re doing?!”

Mathew caught the club as it boomeranged back towards him. “Who doesn’t like a little — ngh — rulebreaking?” He grunted as he tossed it again, adding a bit of showboating into each motion. Mathew wanted all eyes on him, including theirs.

Mathew carefully watched the two panic between throws. He noticed Beverly scramble to toss their scraps onto a platform right next to them. “Catch it, catch it, catch it!” she ordered her friend.

On the fourth throw, the club was held in place just short of the chain. It trembled in midair, stuck between its bond to Mathew and Kell’s psychic power. From here, the cubone could see some confidence break out onto her face. There was a remarkable dent in one of the links now, but Mathew was short a weapon to break it w—

Chomp.

That was the sound Joey made as he crashed into the chain, right at its weak point, and bit down hard. He wrangled with it, clutching the chain to keep from falling.

Mathew gasped. How did he get up there? He had told Joey to go straight for the base of the chain, so they could strike in two places instead of one.

He could hear Joey chewing through the link with his powerful jaws. It was working. “What do we do?!” Beverly cried.

Kell released her hold on the club, then turned to raise all of the boxes into the air. “We have to move these,” she said hurriedly. She moved them all to a smaller platform nearby, barely large enough to fit them all. “They’re trying to—!”

Beverly and Kell screamed as the chain gave out. The platform buckled and turned, forcing them to slide off. A second later, two splashes echoed through the Waregle.

Joey panted and kicked, holding on to the broken chain for dear life. “Um, guys? I…” Before he could finish that sentence, Megan’s mech reached out from a next-door platform and set him down. “Thanks.” He spat towards the pool. “Metal tastes grosser than gunk in a garbage can…”

“Incredible!” David hovered above them, peering down at the disgruntled recruits surfacing from their dive. “The other teams forced Kell and Beverly to give up the boxes to keep from getting eliminated, all without laying a finger on either of them. Who else could think of a plan like that than Mr. Walker himself?! And it only took little kick from Randy to put it into motion!”

A little kick? As Mathew gave a dramatic bow to placate the cheering pokémon, he pieced together what happened. The extra help was an improvised trick from that rabbit, wasn’t it? It must’ve been a serious kick to get Joey so high up. Where did he get that kind of power from…?

Oh! He was the pre-evolution of that soccer rabbit, cinderace! A raboot, it was called. That made sense.

Once he finished showing off, he rushed off to join the others. By the time he got there, Randy and Megan were already clawing through three of the boxes, hunting down chalk, a type stone, and a household item. “Take what you want and go,” Megan demanded.

“Right.” Rather than deliberate, Mathew simply picked one up, then pressed Joey to grab another. With caution, they parted ways with the other group.

They headed for the edge of the pool. Learning from Beverly and Kell, the two settled on a space not held up by chains: a spacious, surprisingly stable diving board suspended over the pool by poles sprouting from the ground.

Mathew sat down with their spoils. The two of them had grabbed the ones holding the most important resources: the raw materials and the tools. Along with the chalk and type stone, they had all they needed to make a weapon from scratch.

“Let’s see here…” Mathew peered into the tools box. He was impressed by the actual variety of tools here. Screwdrivers, hammers, what looked like a blowtorch…

A nail gun…

He held it up to the ceiling light. Crimson glinted off the bent ends of each nail. “Is this it?” he asked.

Mathew couldn’t bear to look at it. Not after what it’d been used for. “Yes, sir.”


“Mathew?! Hey!” Joey exclaimed.

He was pulled back to reality just short of scuttling backwards off the diving board. “Sorry. Can you check this out instead?”

Joey seemed perturbed, but slowly complied, rummaging through the box. “There’s some pencils and paper here for sketching, a hammer, and… uh…” he pulled out a small tube and a matching piece of spring. “What the heck is this?”

Mathew squinted at the two…and then it clicked. “Oh! It’s a tiny barrel. That’s part of what you’d need to build a makeshift gun.”

Joey leaned back at that, looking leerily at the piece in his hand. “A gun? For pokémon?”

Mathew was just short of writing it off himself. But when he looked at the purple type stone resting next to him…an idea started to form. He sat down. “Joey, hand me the pen and paper.”

By the time David announced that fifty minutes remained, Mathew had completed his sketch. It took a little guesswork to figure out that the purple type stone they had was actually the poison type, but once it did, everything clicked into place. What he had drawn was a tiny pistol, fit for pokémon their size. Much like how David’s bugle horn shot out magical leaves when blown into, the gun would fire clouds of poison only when the trigger was pulled. All it’d take was a couple minutes of welding and they’d be set.

“So? What do you think?” Mathew asked as he presented the weapon to Joey, sitting next to him.

Joey was…unusually despondent. He said nothing as he stared at the drawing with a frown on his maw.

“…Joey?”

“Oh, um, right,” Joey stammered, still seeming discontent. “It’s…I dunno. I don’t like it.”

Mathew’s confidence wavered. That moodiness was back again. “Okay, but is there anything actually wrong with it?”

“It ain’t the weapon! It’s…” He averted his gaze, seeming almost embarrassed to say it. “I don’t like the thought of seeing you with a gun. Is there really nothing better?”

Of all things to be bothered by… “Joey, please,” Mathew said, exasperated. “We don’t have the time to come up with another one! It’s not like it fires real bullets.”

“That ain’t the point!” Joey grumbled. “David showed us we could make any weapon we wanted, and I thought that was bad enough. So why is the first thing you jump to…?”

Mathew peered over the side of the board. Several of the pokémon were looking up at them, eager to see the product of their creative minds. Could they hear them? Panicked, he leaned up close to the totodile, craning his muzzle up towards where his ears should be. “You don’t have to work on it,” he shrilly whispered, “but we are not doing this right now.”

Joey just huffed, springing to his feet. “No, it’s fine,” he mumbled, jumping into the box once more. “I’ll be your tool guy. What are you gonna need?”

Mathew sighed before trying to dismiss the whole thing. They wouldn’t be able to succeed if things got heated. The last thing either of them needed was to blow up on each other in front of a crowd, or in front of…

He squinted. All the way on the other end of the pool, that mech-suited magikarp was still staring at him.

Fifteen minutes passed by like a leaf drifting through Fascamile’s fierce storm. Now that every team had what they needed, they were all fiercely focused on crafting their weapons. Mathew had his attention split three ways — he needed to study both his own craft and that of the other teams.

Mathew realized the moment he grabbed the blowtorch that he’d chosen the most ambitious project of the three. Randy and Megan were already done, having settled on a simple mix of tool and type stone. Meanwhile, Beverly and Kell had settled on using woodwork to assemble their weapon. The bidoof’s buck teeth made wood its canvas like a potter’s clay. Woodchips spilled into the air as she shaped it, falling into the pool they’d escape from minutes before.

Lucky. Why couldn’t he have known any fire moves?

Mathew turned the blowtorch off and leaned back, overwhelmed by its heat. The fire was far stronger than any blowtorch he could buy on Earth, no doubt thanks to a type stone, but his unfamiliarity with the tool combined with the humidity of the Waregle made it an unwieldy process in exchange for the speed. He’d gotten it done, but it wasn’t pretty. Metal bubbled at the seams between pieces, and it was a little bent out-of-shape. David seemed plenty satisfied though — the decidueye had been singing his praises to the crowd the whole time he made it.

With a sigh, he dropped the gun into one of the boxes. The two of them had emptied it out and filled it with a mix of pool water and Joey’s Water Gun, in hopes the extra potency would beat the elemental heat. Unfortunately, that meant only Joey could reach in without feeling pain. “Alright, that’s about it,” he told him. “Let it cool a minute and we’re done here.”

“Got it.” Joey’s tone was a little blunt. He was still grumpy, but not unhelpful, and Mathew was thankful for that.

He got to his feet, taking a stretch and checking the others’ progress. Beverly and Kell were right on their heels, seeming about done themselves. Wood, rope, and wire wrapped around Beverly and a spear holstered at her side with a makeshift sheath. Three blocks of wood extended from the side, serving some purpose Mathew couldn’t grasp. The sharp end dripped with water no matter how much the bidoof shook.

Meanwhile, Randy and Megan…uh…huh. While Mathew wasn’t looking, the two of them had disappeared from their crafting space. Where had they disappeared to?

“And that’s thirty minutes! Recruits, you can now directly attack—”

Oh shit.

Before the words had even finished coming out of David’s mouth, a raboot had jumped from a platform hung above, dropping on them feet-first.

Mathew cried out to Joey. They had to take the gun and move! But his words fell on deaf ears. Joey was sitting there, staring at the cooled gun in his hands while the world passed him by. What was he doing?!

Too late. Randy slammed down on the massive board with enough force to pull it down with him. He yelped as the board flung them all upwards. Mathew winced as he fell down rear-first, almost crushing his tail. Joey landed on his chest, the gun clattering as it bounded away from his arm.

Following Randy down from above was his weapon of choice. As he planted himself on the wobbling board, the raboot caught a bright blue basketball. When he dribbled it, the water that was puddled on the board crystalized. The ice spread a little from the point of impact, a few inches short of the water-filled box.

He aimed a pass at the exposed gun.

Mathew lunged to block it. The weapon was too small and too shabby to take abuse like that. He bit on his tongue trying to resist the urge to scream. The moment it collided with his right arm, all of the droplets running along it turned cold, their sharp ends digging at his scales and leaving stinging cuts. Randy caught the rebound, already primed for another pass.

Short on options, Mathew rose and reached for the best counter he had. With his left hand, he clutched the side of the box, swung it over his side, and dumped the mixed water on the fire-type. Randy winced, blocking his face with his free paw, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. The icy ball struck his left arm — then his left leg, then his right. Suddenly he was trapped in place, arms so scratched up that he worried calling his club would cause him even more pain.

Mathew peered behind himself. Joey was now watching them with wide eyes, hugging the gun to his chest. “Run!” he commanded, using his muzzle to gesture to a large pole holding up the board at the edge of the pool.

Joey looked to it and understood quickly. “I’ll move snappier than a rattlesnake snacking on a m…!” His comparison was drowned out by the sound of him sliding down the pole like a firefighter.

Phew. That should buy him some time to thaw out, or muster the strength to grab his club so he can start bashing at the ice like an antarctic warrior. He was exhausted, but he was still kicking. So long as he fought smarter instead of harder…

…Why wasn’t Randy chasing after Joey? He was just standing there, giving Mathew a cocky but genuine grin. Busting the gun should be his goal, shouldn’t it?

“Hey, you like you magic tricks, right?” Randy asked as he walked around the squirming Mathew, arm wrapped around his ball. “Lemme show you a cool trick of my own!”

Smack!

A fire-charged kick slammed into the cubone with supernatural strength. A mixture of pain and amazement panged through his pounding head as he was launched upward. Ice flew off of him as he went higher, and higher, and—

He stopped. Just short of crashing into the ceiling, two large hands had reached out and grabbed him.

That damn magikarp. Here she was, mech and all, standing at the top of an intricate box-maze of nets and stairs ripped straight out of a fast-food joint’s play-place. A waterslide rushed behind her, boring into the wall.

Mathew gave a weak laugh. “N-Nice catch…”

“Randy and I practice this kind of thing.” The mech stepped away from the edge, harshly dropping Mathew against a guard-rail next to the slide.

He winced. “If it’s the gun you’re looking for, you got the wrong guy… Joey has it.”

“You think we’re after your weapon?” The fish shimmied around in her mech, her scoff forming as bubbles rising from her mouth. “Why waste time breaking your weapon when I can negotiate your surrender?”

The cubone thought to peer to his side. David was too focused on Randy’s chase after Joey to come up here. Nobody would be able to hear them from up here. “I really have no idea why you’ve been eyeing me all day, but no way in hell am I giving this up.”

Megan ignored him. “I don’t know you because of your persona or whatever you did on Earth. That’s where Randy recognizes you from, but I was just playing along.” She squinted, giving the most judgmental look a magikarp can muster. “Your friend’s been bothered by our familiarity with you, and while you were building that weapon, you didn’t answer his question… He doesn’t know about the rumors, does he?”

The rumors?

The rumors. Oh god.

With a new burst of motivation, Mathew grabbed the rail and hoisted himself up. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped. He was genuine — he had found articles and blogs trying to piece together what he’d been doing since vanishing from the web. Those writers couldn’t fathom the full reality.

“With a reaction like that, at least I know there’s some truth to it.”

Damn it. Was his frustration that obvious?

Megan intensified, pointing a finger towards the slide. “Take this slide back down, break your weapon, and throw the rest of the game. Otherwise…I’ll tell him everything I know.”

He could feel his own eye twitch. The need to tell Joey the whole truth brought him enough anguish. The thought of a random stranger repeating the words of tabloids and rumor mills she couldn’t even remember reading to Joey brought him disgust.

How dare she. How dare she.

He lurched forward, catching Megan by surprise, as he drove a claw against the glass protecting her face. “You do that, and I’ll drag you to the driest desert I can find and make you sunbathe.”

“You don’t scare me,” Megan said. “You could just tell Joey the truth yourself and take away my leverage. But the fact that you won’t says a lot about what you really think.” Her gaze could bore holes through him. “You’re pitiful. And you’d rather stay pitiful for the rest of your life.”

For the rest of his life?

No. As if he hadn’t tried to claw his way out before.

He’d tried.

He’d been trying.

“I am trying!” he cried. “Mark, I am trying with everything I have to make things better for the both of us!”

“Then why do you keep yelling?”


This was the second time today he’d been brought to that moment. Joey did it as well, when they were arguing.

The day he lost him, too.

Mathew didn’t even remember calling his club to him. It simply rose into his hand from wherever it was down below, in time for him to swing. He bashed against the glass guarding the magikarp again and again, forcing her back as he approached.

She had no right to bring him back to that moment.

Megan gave a bubbling grunt as she tried fruitlessly to block the club. “That’s not going to work!” she called. Despite this, she took a step back with each blow. “This mech was designed to withstand pokémon moves. You can’t—!”

She was cut off by Mathew hugging her mech, pushing it like a football player. His feet nearly slipped on the wet floor, but he kept his grip. He would not stop.

He kept going until she toppled back, and the two fell over the unguarded edge.

The audience’s cheers turned to surprised gasps as they tumbled. Mathew clung to the mech, staying on top as they hurdled through the center of a hoop.

CRACK.

The force of landing onto the low-hanging platform combined with Mathew using it to break his fall was enough. With one more swing, the glass caved and shattered.

“Wait! Stop! Stop!” Megan tried to retreat into it, bite him, and slap him off, but there was no stopping him. He pulled her out of the mech with both hands, holding her up as if he pulled a fish from an Earthen river.

Megan’s eyes were wide, pupils dotted. She was gasping for air.

Now he scared her.

Mathew threw Megan away, hurtling her into the pool below. Without a mech, that would be where she stayed.

“Megan!” the raboot cried. Without a second thought, he abandoned his chase and dived in after her. The trash took itself out.

Joey climbed towards him, asking him something. He couldn’t hear it over the ring of his ears.

He puffed air as if he were a dragon with smoke billowing out of its nostrils. “Who’s next?” he graveled, putting a foot atop the empty machine. He looked left, right…there she was.

Beverly marched up to them, geared up in her weapon, looking confident. “Boy, that fish girl must’ve really ticked ya off, hun.”

Mathew jumped from his platform to hers, reaching with his club. She tilted her body, blocking his club with her watery blade and then driving it forward. The cut it left in his arm stung as strongly as the ice, but he numbed himself to it quickly. He could still fight.

He swung again, and again. Every time he was answered with another slash or a bite from the bidoof’s buck-teeth.

“Mathew?! Mathew!” Joey’s voice cut through the muffle of the reinvigorated crowd. He begged Mathew to stop.

He couldn’t. He had a life to win for them.

Even the totodile’s intervention couldn’t stop either of them. When he leapt in, Beverly turned and swung at him. Suddenly, the blade sparked, and Joey was blasted backwards by an electric surge.

“Nice catch, Kell!” Beverly’s weapon shifted, wires floating around into new positions, and the weapon gained its watery aura again. Some kind of imbued type controller, powered by psychokinesis… “Ya might be a smart cookie, Mathew, but you know what we have?” She went straight for the chest. “Each other’s trust!”

He gasped. His legs buckled at the jab, and he was pushed backwards…right off the edge.

The world slowed. Thoughts rushed through his mind with blinding speed.

He’d failed. Even if Joey protected the gun from the other three, he’d still have failed. He lost sight of pleasing SEAS and caved to his unbridled emotion. The results resembled nothing of a man of science. Those strong first impressions would vanish beneath the shadow of his rage.

The people crowding the sides of the pool were still roaring with excitement. They didn’t know the difference. They sat through half an hour of anticipation to see three minutes of fighting. It must’ve made for a good show.

But there was something else. Two figures stood still right at the pool’s edge, watching him as he fell. Mathew was upside-down, and worse, too exhausted to really open his eyes — he couldn’t make out who they were, or what species they belonged to. But he did remember their perturbed eyes.

They must’ve known he lost, too.

Splash.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 11

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 11: Emily Prest
God, everything hurt.

That was the first thought that shot through Mathew’s head when he snapped awake. The adrenaline had run out, and now all of the scratches he’d taken between the basketball and the spear were in full force. It was a wonder that nothing had drawn blood.

He was splayed out on a cheap and rubbery bed that reminded him of an Earthen hospital. To his left were blue shelves lined with berries and seeds of all kinds, along with an assortment of unfamiliar tools. The ceiling hung high, but the walls were closing in on him, just short of swallowing him up.

The two figures standing around him didn’t help with the claustrophobia. On his left was a strange pokémon that Mathew could only compare to a misshapen pineapple. He was holding a jar of seeds with small green stems sticking out of them.

Reviver seeds.

“Mr. Walker.”

Towering before his feet was a species Mathew recognized. He was already familiar with the empoleon’s wide build, white lace-coated chest, and hulking flippers, but seeing these features in person, filling the whole room, showed him just how befitting the title ‘emperor penguin’ was. Sharp blue eyes peeked between the gaps of the horns extending from her beak, forming a trident shape.

“Here you go!” The duck medic had swapped to a jar of oran berries while he’d been staring at the empoleon. “All those hits you took didn’t break any bones, so this is all you need.”

“...Thanks.” Mathew said nothing as he took one and bit down. All his attention was focused on the empoleon. No words were needed — something about her presence just commanded it.

She finally spoke again. “It’s good to see you’re back with us. I was made aware how concerned your friends were for your health, especially the young Mr. Johdaile.”

This person talked to Joey? “How long’ve I been out…?”

“About forty-five minutes.”

He missed the rest of the game, then. Figures.

The empoleon looked to the medic. “Is there any other health concern left to address?” she asked.

“He should be all good now!” he answered. “He might need to take it easy for a bit, though — the food healed his wounds, but the only thing that makes those stress levels go down is time.”

“I see. In that case, I will take it from here. Thank you.” She nodded, as if to affirm that he was dismissed. Jovially, the other pokémon made for the door. Now it was just the two of them.

Mathew pushed himself up into a sitting position, feeling a bit better now that the oran had kicked in. “I’m sorry, should I know you?” Actually, on second thought… “Do I know you? I think I’ve heard your voice somewhere before.”

He seemed certain of it now. Firm, concise, and clear, as if at any moment she could spring into a powerful monologue… He had heard somebody speak with that intonation. Many times, even.

The empoleon seemed amused by the remark. “We’ve never met, no. But I would be surprised if you lost your ability to recognize me. After all—”

Just then, the door to the clinic burst open. “M-Mrs. Prest! How is…oh.”

There stood Demurke, holding the door aside with her wing. She seemed a little flustered having interrupted their conversation, so she promptly closed it again. But, wait…

Prest. She called her Prest.

His half-booted brain connected the dots.

“Prest?” Mathew repeated, looking up at the empoleon. “Like, Emily Prest?”

She nodded. “Yes. That Emily Prest. I lead this organization.”

The cubone collapsed onto his back again. He’d been willing to make some concessions in pursuit of this new life. Multiverse theory. Pokémon being real. Magic bones. Weapons made of household objects and random stones.

But ask him to make a thousand bingo cards of life-changing revelations, and he would never think to put this on one.

Emily Prest was formerly the fifty-first President of the United States.

And she was standing in front of him.

Telling him that the organization that flung him a dimension over was of her making.

What the fuck.

Emily moved to the side of the bed, peering over him. “Are you alright, Mr. Walker?”

“I feel like I’m in a dream right now,” he said, “but besides that? Never better.”

Emily raised a flipper, seeming contemplative. “Perhaps I should’ve prepared my greeting more thoroughly…”

Mathew propped himself back up. “It’s just — you disappeared! Is this where you’ve been this whole time? Why did you—”

“All in due time,” Emily cut him off, lowering it down. “The journey that led me here is a long and complex story. Once you are fully initiated and I can trust you, I can share the full explanation.”

He deflated. Mathew wasn’t going to pressure her — Emily Prest was not somebody you pushed around — but not knowing what became of her for the past thirteen years was going to nag at him. She couldn’t even tell him why she was here? “That’s basically what David said, too. I’m doing all this work, and I only kind of know what it means.”

Emily must have sensed the disappointment in his voice. She paced around, staring at the ceiling. “How to phrase this palatably…” She snapped back to attention. “Right. You work under Mr. Persian and that girl. The trash-cleaning job?”

Mathew nodded. “What about it?”

“Then you’ve been given a taste of how Solceus’ new industries pollute their dungeons and endanger their inhabitants.” Her gaze became dark. “The people of this world are catching up to us, Mr. Walker — and not just in technology. Their doomsday clock is ticking, and if nothing changes, it’ll hit midnight the same way ours did.”

Hit midnight…?

Now it clicked. Impassioned speeches echoed in his mind, demanding action, demanding responsibility, demanding change. Her will to move the fragmented nation to resist the calamity coming upon the Earth was Mathew’s freshest memory of her.

“You haven’t changed, have you?” he remarked. “We’re here for the same reason you wanted the White House. To ‘save the world’. Or, worlds now, I guess.” David and Demurke had said that was the goal, too. It made sense under her vision.

Emily shook her head. “I wish I could say I haven’t changed. I’d call myself hopeless, really — about as hopeless as our old home right now.” She leaned in, horn prongs pointing into the air. “But there is hope for Solceus, still, and that’s worth fighting for.”

Mathew found the explanation almost revitalizing. This wasn’t just some lofty vision — the reason he was here was to prevent an apocalypse. To rid Solceus of the chaos that swept over his home’s streets! That would bring him the peace he wanted. He was certain of it.

He just had to beat Dit’s scrutiny. He had to prove that he belonged in the laboratory and not on the front lines. He had to win David’s game and — Oh shit he’d almost forgotten about that!

Mathew immediately leapt off the bed. Memories were pouring to the forefront — memories of losing his cool. “Where’s David and Joey?! I need to talk to them both!”

“Mr. Emmons is still at the Waregle. However…” Instead of answering, she simply opened the door out of the clinic.

They were waiting for him in the hallway. Demurke shaking off the embarrassment, Jermy breathing a sigh of relief, ORB unflinching and…

“Joey!” Mathew blazed past Emily, stopping just short of hugging the totodile. “Are you okay? Those other recruits didn’t hurt you too much, did they?”

Joey looked at him wide-eyed, seeming surprised by his sudden approach. “Uh, not really?” He pushed him away a little. “My legs are more achy than a burning heart, though…”

Mathew sighed in relief. “Well, that’s good. Did we win?”

He firmly shook his head. “They all busted up the gun. I tried to fix it up, but I ain’t a mechanic like you… The crowd really liked the big spear in the end.”

“Oh.” As he expected. Neither of them were prepared to fend off three trained attackers alone for half an hour. “That’s my fault. I left you literally high and dry out there.”

Joey averted his gaze, staring down the plain, windowless hospital hallway. “About as high and dry as a kite in a sunny sky.”

Mathew grimaced under his mask. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, not even letting him finish. “It ain’t all your fault. My head’s not screwed on straight…”

Mathew wasn’t sure how to answer that. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

Emily walked over to the two, letting the door shut. “If it’s any compensation, Joey, I heard several people talking about you after the game. Your dedication to protecting that weapon wasn’t ignored.”

“Hey, and we thought you knocked it out of the park!” Jermy exclaimed. “For your literal fourth day on Solceus, you were really hamming it up out there!”

ORB wheeled in front of Jermy. “He spent the first five minutes wishing for nails to bite.”

Jermy grit his teeth in a wavering smile and dragged the robot behind him. “Not in front of Emily!” he hissed.

“Well, thanks,” Joey remarked, seeming appreciative. He focused on Mathew again. “Did they tell you she was president?”

“I mean, I knew who she was already,” he said honestly.

“It’s been a couple years and it’s still weird to think about,” Jermy admitted.

Demurke nudged the pikachu. “Uh, your c-country had…millions of p-people in it, right?”

“It does now,” Emily explained for him. “Before the fracturing, it had billions.”

Joey deflated. “I don’t even get to remember the president…”

To Mathew’s surprise, Emily crouched down next to Joey, a look of sympathy in her eyes. “I know it’s a difficult position to be put in,” she told him. “At one point in time, I was forced to bear it myself. In fact, the reason I came to speak to you was to provide my assistance.”

“You… You wanna help?!” The totodile’s eyes lit up as he pointed his maw skyward.

“Of course.” She leaned back, flippers at her sides. “I intend to help you find ways to overcome this rough patch in your recruitment — ways that are more reliable than David’s haphazard effort. I want you to feel acclimated here.”

That seemed to knock Joey down all over again. “Oh.”

Yet another reason to feel guilty. Mathew knew that wasn’t the kind of answer he wanted.

And you’d rather stay pitiful for the rest of your life.

“Could you at least tell him how he ended up like this?!”

All eyes snapped to Mathew. Damnit. He hadn’t meant to put so much passion in that question.

“Of course I can explain,” Emily said, pushing the moment along. “Joey, this organization is closely allied with several powerful forces. It’s only with their help that we’ve been able to amass a team this large. However, there are limits to their power. Those who they bring between the worlds are unable to carry specific memories — only vague understandings of concepts.”

Memories and knowledge… People kept making this distinction everywhere they went. It was so strange. How could education and experience be two different things?

Mathew remembered reading about it somewhere. They gave it a name. What was it? And where… Right! The blueprints!

“The Theory of Consciousness Memory Imprinting!” Mathew repeated to them. “I worked on that damn portal for so long, I totally forgot about the theory side of it.”

Jermy gave him a curious look. “Huh. For some reason, I thought you wouldn’t know about that…”

“Why wouldn’t I? It was on the blueprints.” He paced around as he recollected. “When you jump between worlds, your body isn’t transforming to fit the new location. The new body is actually created from scratch, and your consciousness is put into it. Since the new body has a whole new brain—” He knocked on his skull mask. “—It doesn’t have the previous body’s memories. The only reason we know anything is because our consciousness exists separate from the bodies, and can carry certain things over.”

The way Joey looked at him suggested most of that had gone in one ear and out the other.

“You basically got half-reincarnated when you got to Solceus.”

“Oh!” A flash of recognition came…and went. “That makes as much sense as an egg on a stick. And it still doesn’t explain why you got more memories than me.”

ORB was the one who cut in. “The power of machines is consistency. A well-built machine will fulfill its specified purpose every time.”

“Even when you don’t want them to…” Jermy mumbled.

“The portal machines we make use artificial power sources. As long as that machine is properly powered, the connection it forms between two worlds is as perfect as we currently believe is possible, assisting the conscious in the transfer. Living beings, however, have to expend their own energy, which fluctuates and falters. It’s the difference between a human lifting a boulder with their own hands and a lever doing it.”

Joey squinted at the robot. “I guess that makes sense…”

“Admittedly, it baffles me as well. Making sense of these lines of logic is more to David’s expertise,” Emily said. “What matters is that this is a limitation we must work around. We cannot afford to have members travel to candidates all over Earth to build portal machines. Additionally, maintaining an active portal between Earth and Solceus is quite the expense, combined with the network we have just for this world. Until some milestones are accomplished, we simply don’t have the time or resources to ensure—“

Something clicked just then. Emily was asking for milestones? Mathew had a milestone. Well, he almost did. He shelved the ambitions behind it for the time being because he thought he couldn’t make it a reality. But in a world where science was about fusing magic rocks and proving the existence of the soul, maybe he shouldn’t write off absurdities.

“The Wormhole Wristlet!” he cried, turning to his friend. “That’s the answer, Joey! That’s how we can get you your memories back!”

Joey seemed less confused and more…irritated, somehow. “How many more crazy things do you have up your sleeve?”

“Plenty, I think!” He spoke with pep. Nothing could bring him down from the relief of realizing this was a possibility after all.

Demurke mustered a giggle. “Wh-what kind of name is that…?”

“It’s a great name.” Mathew gave her a harsh side-eye, making her go quiet with a nervous look. “The Wormhole Wristlet was a side project…I came up with while trying to get the actual portal device to work. If I was going to make this, I might as well put my own spin on it too, right? I figured a mobile portal device would be nice on the resume.” Plus, he realized, it ensured he’d have a path back to Earth later on.

“Mobile?!” Jermy exclaimed. “What kind of mobile are we talking about here?”

“It fits like a heavy watch.”

He seemed almost giddy, shaking in-place like an excited kid. “Mathew Walker…following up our work…!”

“It’s not actually done, mind you. You’re supposed to fire portals by…well, you type into this keyboard to put your coordinates in and…” Dammit, words were failing him. The cubone sighed. “It’d be easier to show it to you all than explain it. It’s sitting in my room in the apartment.”

“Well, you have caught my interest, Mr. Walker,” Emily remarked. “Even a half-finished product should help significantly to convince the division heads that you can be an asset to our science team.”

Preemptively, Mathew marched down the hall. “Maybe if I hurry—”

The empoleon put a flipper in his way. “I believe you should spend the duration of the morning resting up. It sounds as though you both have earned the extra time.”

“Ah, fair enough.” He was a bit relieved to be turned around — if he’d been allowed to walk off, he would be forced to admit that he didn’t know where the portal out of this hospital was.

Emily faced Jermy. “Would you be so kind as to obtain Mathew’s machine for him?” she asked.

“Aww, what?” Jermy whined. “Well…okay. Where in your room should I look, Mathew?”

Bang bang bang!

This was the second visitor Meowth had received before 7:00 AM. Even when the humans weren’t in his condo, there was no time to rest. Especially when the most energetic person he knew was standing there at his front door.

“Hey.” The darkness did wonders to hide the aging on Minichino’s scarf and hat — and the seriousness on her face. “Can we talk? It’s really important.”

If this was her usual demeanor, Meowth would be inclined to decline. She hated his guts — before the humans had gotten into the picture, she had never once spoken to him outside of a work context. But something about this was different. He’d never seen Minichino without her passionate chipperness. Meowth had to figure out why.

“Sure.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

Minichino followed him to his couch. It was surreal to see her neither grinning nor yelling. For a second, Meowth wondered if she’d appreciate an encourage seed. He dropped the thought as soon as he realized that’d require telling her about his encourage seeds.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment. The breaking daylight poured in, casting a faint light over the minccino. Meowth kept standing in the shadows of his home. He’s terrible at icebreakers, Minichino must be thinking.

“Look,” she started. “What you did to Mathew was not cool at all. But I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said about dealing with your dad. And I wanna say…” she looked away, towards the window. “I get it.”

Meowth pressed against the wall. “You get it?” He hunted for that sense of pity he felt when she stormed out of his house two days ago.

“A bunch more than you think.” Suddenly, Minichino pulled back her bycocket hat. She’d been concealing a sheet of paper inside of it. “I get that we don’t see eye-to-eye on a bunch of things, but there’s a whole lot of stuff going on that’s way more important. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ask, but… I really need your help with something.”

Now it made sense. The sincerity was just to play on his sympathy, so he’d accept whatever this favor she wanted was. Fine. He’d play along. “Tell me what you’re planning.”

Minichino stared at the paper in her paw. Meowth couldn’t make out the words, but it was clearly a handwritten note. “Mr. Persian told me that he’s gonna be stuck in a meeting with the Club sponsors all morning. Demurke’s out for some reason, too. He wanted me to guard his place, but the sponsors won’t let me. So the place’ll be totally empty this morning.” She looked up firmly. “I want you to snoop around in Mr. Persian’s files while no one’s looking.”

Bewildered, Meowth pushed off the wall. “You’re kidding.” This had to be some kind of trap. What she was proposing was too absurd coming out of her mouth.

She shook her head. “Dude, if I was kidding, I wouldn’t have come over.”

Meowth sat down next to her, preparing to interrogate. “What are you trying to do in there?”

“I can’t tell you everything, but here’s the gist.” Minichino studied her note, then continued. “In his office, there’s this cabinet opposite his desk where he keeps a bunch of profiles on the Pick-it Up Club employees. Mr. Persian’s sponsors help work on them, too.” She looked at him pleadingly, planting her paw firmly on the couch cushion. “It is super, ultra, mega important that I figure out what’s on those profiles. I got too many eyes on me as the Club leader to do it myself.” Her face brightened up, both desperate and encouraging at the same time. “But you’d get in there no problem! They already know you’re a snooper — it can’t get any worse than that, can it?”

Which is to say that I’m enlisting you for this job because you already have a terrible reputation, Minichino was really saying here. Meowth stared back tensely.

“This is a terrible idea.” He said that, but he was…strangely tantalized. He came here in the first place to find out about his father. Was there any better way to find out than see what was stored in his office?

“Trust me, I get it.” Minichino pulled away. “We’re — I’m as crazy about this as you are. I can’t make you go if you really don’t like it. But you are my best bet to make this happen.” She hugged the note to her chest. “And…I want you to find out about your dad. We’d both get what we want, right?”

The impact of what Minichino was saying began to sink in. This wasn’t some prank. Minichino was letting him in on a conspiracy. She even had the audacity to use his dad as a lure. But he had to admit, it was a hard offer to refuse.

In seconds, Meowth had flung open the door to his room and grabbed a camera. “The quicker I’m in and out, the better. Where is his office exactly?”

Minichino rose off the couch. She held the note at her side, the words facing out. “The top floor! Right above where the fitness room is on the bottom floor. There’s an elevator past a locked door in there — check if you can open it.”

Meowth looked at her for a moment, eyes fixated on her paw gripping the paper. He only gave her a nod before moving for his front door.

“Good luck!” She called, her voice quickening as he moved away from her. “If you get caught I’ll try to bail—!”

She hadn’t even finished explaining before he was outside.

Just before leaving, he’d gotten a good look at that note. He couldn’t make out any of the words, but he could clearly see the handwriting.

Cursive. Flowery. Elegant. Meowth would recognize it anywhere. He’d seen page after page written in that style, right in front of him, in his Higher Ed dorm.

That handwriting was Politoed’s.

Validation couldn’t begin to describe how he felt. It wasn’t just his father hiding the truth. It was the whole Club.

Never before had Meowth stalked his way through the resort lobby with such tension. Already, his heart was pounding. He tried to stay flush with the early-morning crowd. It didn’t shake the feeling that contempt eyes were watching over him. Could somebody tell at a glance what he planned to do with this camera?

He made for the fitness room. Getting to Mr. Persian’s office was the hardest part, he imagined. If this door was locked, then he’d have to—

“...really hope Mathew wasn’t joking about the wearable part. Someone’s gonna get an earful if this thing’s hefty!”

Jermy’s voice. Meowth hugged one of the walls in the hallway, staying as far as he could from the pikachu and his robot as they walked out of the Fitness Room.

“Jermy, you and I both know that the only one who’s gonna ‘get an earful’ is me,” ORB commented.

Meowth kept a careful eye on the robot as he walked down the hall, past his goal. He remembered how ORB had detected him and the other Club members approaching. If he kept to himself, would ORB see him?

The pikachu sighed. “Yeah, you’re right…” The two of them made for the exit.

If ORB sensed him, he didn’t say anything.

Once they were gone, Meowth doubled back and entered the fitness room. To his surprise, there wasn’t anybody inside. A side door labeled “Authorized personnel only” was left half-open. Just past it, he could see what looked like an elevator of some kind.

This must have been what Minichino was referencing. It’d been Jermy, of all people, who gave him access. What a stroke of luck…

The rickety metal elevator, tall and narrow with only rusted railings to protect the shaft, looked nothing like what he was used to. It didn’t float like others he’d seen — it was designed more like the gondola cars, held up by cables that reached up to the ceiling. There was a staircase that climbed upwards in a spiral around the elevator shaft, but he didn’t have time for that. He pulled the gate open, stepped in, and pressed the button for the highest floor.

It creaked and groaned as it was pulled upward…and after a minute, he made it to floor six. This hallway looked similar to the one he’d seen on the lower floor — bland yellow paint covered the walls, the white ceiling above was tinted a cream shade, and a strangely ornate carpet lined the floor.

After ensuring he was unseen, Meowth prowled through the hallway. It took only a few paces to reach his destination: “Office of the Manager”, as labeled on the door. For the first time ever, Meowth stepped into his father’s office.

For somebody with Minichino on his side, Mr. Persian’s workspace was in remarkable disarray. The blue carpet flooring was faded with dirty lines of paw prints and talon tracks. His mahogany desk was overloaded with paper stacks, pens, and ink vials. The paint on the filing cabinets lining the walls was chipping away, exposing the metallic silver underneath. A window overlooking the ocean below let the dawning light shine on the imperfections. It stood in stark contrast to the gentle, yet formal exterior of the rest of the Resort.

Meowth walked behind Mr. Persian’s desk to get a closer look. The documents topping the stacks seemed focused on resort affairs. Most of it was irrelevant finances, but there were a few that stuck out. Meowth grabbed the first one that looked interesting. It was a list of routine visitors who earned hospitality from the employees and shelter in the resort.

Skiploom VII of Vahle Village… Kricketune II of Rimek… Grotle I of Cosaline…

Eduardo Shortsman.

Meowth blinked. A pokémon with two names? That wasn’t something he saw every day. Most names were either a distinguishing nickname or an identifier of lineage and hometown. But here, the two-named vastly outnumbered the conventional titles. Randy Belle. Truman Beasley. Sam Sirine.

Were these…human names?

He quickly got a convincing answer. There were two names on this list that had been scribbled out, replaced with “ArK” and “GRAcIe” in hasty handwriting. But the names below were still legible.

Mathew Walker. Joey Johdaile.

Kalmwa’er Resort was housing humans — a lot of them. Meowth laid the page out and snapped photos. It wasn’t what Minichino had asked him to find, but it was worth keeping a record of.

Once he was satisfied, the cat set the paper down and snuck over to the filing cabinets across from the desk. Minichino didn’t mention that there was more than one. Annoying… He chose one at random to open first, housing three drawers.

The handle on the bottom drawer was cold to the paw. He pulled open the drawer to find…empty boxes for microwave dinners and open food cans. What? The middle drawer was about the same, hosting another row of frozen foods with quick cooking times. The top drawer was full of the same brands, but the cans were opened, the boxes were torn, and the stacking was all over the place. It was obviously used as a trash can.

When Meowth rummaged through the garbage, he found a stone that’d been kept in the corner underneath it all. It was an ice type stone, commonly used for imbuing to create refrigerators like the one in his condo. That explained where the cold came from, but why convert this filing cabinet into one? They made storage devices specifically to optimize refrigeration that would certainly be better for the job.

For that matter, why did his father have so much food in his working office?

Ha! Look at you, getting all distracted by canned food! He imagined Minichino mocking him. But that wouldn’t stop him from being perturbed. Not only was he keeping food, but he was storing it somewhere inconspicuous at first glance. It was as if he didn’t want visitors to immediately know he kept food in—

And then, turning his head, he saw it next to the cabinet. A discrete, cushiony piece of furniture with short plush walls sat in the corner of the room. It was faded and torn with overuse. Meowth had never seen anything quite like it before, but its size and rimming reminded him of the nest he slept in.

This was a bed. His father would rather eat and sleep in this office than go outside. He was pulling all-nighters. How could he be this obsessed with a hotel over—?

CLANG!

He slammed the cabinet door much harder than he wanted. Shoot. Meowth clamored for the door and put his ear close. This room was supposed to be empty — if any sound reached an employee, they’d have good reason to come in and investigate.

One second of silence.

Two seconds.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps!

Meowth hastily tiptoed behind the desk and splayed behind it. He braced for what would happen next.

The footsteps walked up to the door…and then right past it. False alarm.

He heaved a sigh of relief. Meowth didn’t want to think about what would happen if he was caught.

Meowth rushed back to the cabinets, moving on to the one beside the makeshift refrigerator. The handles on this one were flush with the room’s temperature. He was careful to avoid making it creak as he slowly opened it.

A stack of folders with labeled names of both normal and human variety filled the interior of the cabinet. Separated from the others with a divider were eight files, beginning with “Breloom IV of Mithlline” and ending with “Politoed XXII of Mithlline”. Finally. This was what he was looking for.

Meowth carefully removed the Club’s files and set each one onto the floor in a row.

He pondered where he should start. Should he begin with his human roommates? His now-mysterious co-workers? Himself? No, he wanted to save it for last. It was Minichino who wanted everything else — he’d fulfill that obligation before facing his own desire.

Perhaps the best place to start would be Demurke. She had been a strange presence in his life for some time now. A hint of guilt swept over Meowth when he considered how intrusive looking into her information was, but he refused to let that stop him after years of being in the dark. He opened Demurke’s file.

The following file is a stub, the lone page inside read. The full documentation for this individual can be found in Database 430.

Oh. Well that was disappointing. He wasn’t going to get a reason behind all of those visits she paid him over the years — at least, not here. Jermy’s file turned out to be similar, although his was contained inside Database 724, whatever that meant.

He shrugged to himself. Mathew and Joey first it is.

For only being on Solceus for what was likely a matter of days, Mathew’s document was surprisingly detailed. There was a near-essay inside detailing everything he’d done in Kalmwa’er so far. Meowth wanted to comb over this word-for-word, if only to better understand how to resolve the tension between them, but he was pressed for time. He just took photos of each page, catching cursory glances to each as he did so.

The words “science division” and “military division” kept appearing on each page. Strange. He got the science part, as SEAS was Mr. Persian’s business partner, but…military?

The most significant paper in this was at the back of the file, describing Mathew’s candidacy for recruitment. Right beneath Mathew’s name was the line “Reference: B.L.” Meowth had never heard that abbreviation before…

Out of curiosity, he promptly moved to Joey’s file and flipped through an almost identical essay. The line beneath Joey’s name in the equivalent page was “Reference: B.L. affiliate”.

B.L. He would have to tell Joey that abbreviation later. There was nothing here about their actual histories on Earth, but maybe it’d be a clue for him.

Next was Politoed’s file. The document was much smaller than either of the previous two, only lasting a single page with a simple blurb. Not surprising — what was there to say about Politoed? He’s so perfect he’s unremarkable. Meowth bet all that would be in his file was some praise for his hard work and—

Risk Level: One — Observe.

…What?

A confused study of his profile gave Meowth some ideas on what had gotten Politoed that label. The author of these documents felt that there was a noticeable lack of background information on his past leading up to his position. Additionally, they found his proactiveness in joining the Club so shortly after its founding unusual. When he checked Breloom’s, it gave a very similar story.

Normally, Meowth would be quick to dismiss such suspicion. Politoed and Breloom were just some people who moved in from out-of-town to study in the Kalmwa’er School of Higher Education — what ‘background’ could they possibly have? But that note Minichino had on her was definitely written by his former dormmate. And, when he thought about it…Politoed and Breloom didn’t talk about their homes a lot.

But that probably wasn’t important. In Higher Ed, you talk about your home life with friends. Meowth was not their friend.

It wasn’t until he opened Minichino’s file that he realized just how big it was. The chronicling of her life was almost obsessive in detail. There were sections describing her environmentalist philosophies, a vague description of her family members, and her current membership at the Kalmwa’er Church of Arceus. Meowth didn’t think of her as the religious type — it never came up during work.

What disturbed him was that this file was much older than the Club. Some were dated as far back as the early 2050s, when Minichino should’ve been a young child. It made him feel weird looking at them, so he averted his eyes while he snapped photos.

The last page was where her risk level was marked: “Three — Moderate”. The words “Prevent her from information collection at all costs” popped out at him towards the bottom. It was crossed out with ink, and a note had been written next to it saying “under control”.

Considering he was here, they didn’t have it as under control as they thought.

All that was left was his own document. He was so eager before, but now? These documents spoke of militaries and risk levels and background checks and…very not-hotel-like business. This was something so much bigger.

Was he…wrong about the reason behind Mr. Persian’s departure from his life? No, no. He had to…

He threw his file open.

Mutual Agreement of Familial Uninvolvement

Meowth’s grip on the first page tightened. His heart raced as he skimmed through the document with baited breath. The contract illustrated a deal where “OCEAN” would avoid involving the signer’s family with the company’s business as long as the signer made their own effort to prevent their family doing so. It was a horrific exchange.

Signed: Persian I of Kalmwa’er

Proof of Witness: Emily Prest

…And his father had agreed to sign it for the sake of his resort.

Meowth took the last photos of the documents, staring at them with wide eyes. Mr. Persian didn’t just set him aside for selfish reasons — he signed deals to make it happen. All part of keeping him away from whatever this all was. What did his father even want, interacting with all these humans?

Answers for his motivations were so beyond him that the cat saw little point in trying to understand them here. Right now, he needed to get out of here before he was spotted.

Meowth carefully placed the folders back and slowly pushed open the door. Peer to the right…peer to the left…still, nobody. He would have wondered what left these halls so barren at dawn, but he was just glad to have such good luck at this point.

Unfortunately, once he was back on the ground floor, his luck ran out.

The moment he pushed the door to the fitness room open, the sound of Jermy and ORB chattering filled his ears. Meowth wanted to panic, but keeping a level head was the only way out of this. He needed to improvise fast.

He flung himself onto one of the bipedal treadmills and flipped it on, not caring that it was clearly sized for a pokémon much larger than him. He tossed the camera behind the thing and started running, hoping his previous nerves could be mistaken for exhaustion.

“...And then I’m gonna — oh, Meowth!” All at once, Jermy sounded surprised at his presence, bemused by the sight of his layabout self running on a treadmill, and very much like he wished he wasn’t in this room. He was carrying some kind of strange machine, but Meowth couldn’t get a good look at it and run at the same time. “What are you scampering in here for?”

“Exercise,” he answered. “I wanted to get a jog in before work.”

The pikachu cocked his head and his arms. “Huh. Never thought you were the kind of guy to get a workout!”

Usually you just lay around all day, Meowth figured he was thinking right now.

“Is it wrong for me to want to try something different?”

“You can try anything you want,” ORB said, rolling towards the end of the room, “if you can explain why this door is hanging open.”

“I dunno,” he deflected. “It was like that when I got here.” That technically wasn’t a lie.

ORB looked at the door frame, then turned to Jermy. “I wonder whose fault that is?”

“Hey, I locked the door just like I was supposed to!” Jermy exclaimed. “I pushed the door open, and… Huh.” The realization flashed on his face. “Right. Whoops.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy whining over the size of a glorified wrist watch, you would have remembered,” ORB snided.

Jermy heaved. “Look. It’s just a door. No one’ll know if I just forgot to lock a door for ten minutes, right?”

“I hope so. Remember when we first went up to Mr. Persian’s office and I said ‘Wow, this floor is so comically underprotected, I could sneak in myself’? It would be very embarrassing if somebody found their way up there.”

Meowth hoped the intensity of his sprint would hide his grimace. That robot was absolutely on to him. This was bad. What could he say to get him off his tail…?

“Hey, don’t sweat it too much!”

Meowth took Minichino’s arrival as an excuse to cut the treadmill off, leaping for the power button.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on this door the whole time,” she told Jermy. “Not a soul going in or out!”

“Oh, uh… Nice!” Jermy said. He leaned his body away from Minichino, hiding whatever it was in his arms from her.

Meowth tried to play along. “You’ve been watching me walk?”

She crossed her arms. “Hey, I already wrapped up the Club preparation! It’s not like I have anything better to do!”

He couldn’t tell if she was really that smarmy or if she was just playing it up.

“Aaaanyways,” Jermy cut in, “we’ve got places to be! See you in a bit!” He rushed to the door entrance, cradling the contraption tightly. Past the whir of the treadmill, Meowth could hear the click of the lock.

After a few seconds, Minichino sighed in relief, before looking at him firmly. “How’d you do?”

Meowth hopped off the treadmill, letting its spin slow to a stop, and picked up the camera. He held it up for her. “There were some beautiful views up there.”

The cat expected a snide comment from Minichino, boasting about how she had just saved him from being caught — but she just crossed her arms, nodding with approval. “Thanks a lot! You really dunno how much of a help this is.”

Meowth simply shrugged. “I got what I wanted, I guess.”

Mission accomplished…but what would it mean for them now?


“Aaaaand… Go!”

Mathew smacked his finger on the ‘enter’ key of the bulky wrist watch wrapped loosely around his left hand. From the top of the machine came a black bolt that shot into the open air of the Waregle and then dissolved. Trailing it was a black-colored opening, following its path like a pair of invisible zippers, one opening and closing. The rift, a product of months of experimentation, only existed for a mere two seconds.

Mathew was met with a modest applause by the crowd — his coworkers, Emily, and now David. The group had stopped the decidueye as he was wiping away debris left by the crowd so he could get a look.

“Very impressive!” he remarked, taking a handful from a bag of popcorn he was holding. “It resembles several of our drafts for portable portal devices. To get this far without any help is an achievement!”

Mathew nodded. “Yeah. As I was trying to explain before, if we can’t rewire your existing portal network, then this would be a fine alternative. If I can get the Wormhole Wristlet to make a stable portal, I could take Joey back to Earth, get him his memories back, and bam, problem solved. We could even do it for the other recruits, too.” And he didn’t even have to do anything particularly painful! Other than figure out how to make a portal work without a frame, obviously.

Joey stared at the Wristlet in awe. “So that tiny little thing can really take me over yonder to Earth…? Wow.” He seemed relieved.

Emily didn’t disapprove of Mathew’s proposition, although she looked rather contemplative for a reason Mathew couldn’t discern. “It’s interesting. I had sworn we agreed not to include…”

David’s beak wasn’t as flexible as human lips, but even Mathew could see him mouth “we did” to her. That seemed to stop the empoleon from clarifying.

“Still, if this is what must be done to resolve your unease, then so be it. You should see to finishing that project as soon as possible.”

Jermy scratched his head. “A frameless rift… How would we make that work?”

David heaved, seeming irritated by his own uncertainty. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Mathew looked up at him, lowering his arm weighted down by the machine. Had David already seen a flaw in his plan? “Why’s that?”

“This Wristlet project of yours can form the cut between worlds, but you’re missing a frame to hold it open. Here on Solceus, though, there might be a way around that.”

“Oh!” Jermy’s cheeks sparked in tandem with his ‘eureka’ moment. “Psychic type stones?”

“I was about to say it myself!” David eyed Jermy with a wry grin. The pikachu didn’t try to match it. “As you saw with Kell, the psychic type grants various mind-controlled abilities, like lifting objects, or hypnotizing people. In many cases, the equivalent stone allows objects to be influenced by the mental willpower of any pokémon.”

Mathew tried to stay still, hoping it’d hide how much he tensed at that detail. “So you’re saying, if I imbued this with a psychic type stone, I could…hold the portal open with my mind?”

Joey looked between the trio of scientists, pretending like he understood any of this. “I don’t get how that works, but if it gets the Wristlet done quick and easy, I ain’t gonna complain.”

“It would be easy, but…” Emily cut in. “I recall hearing from our associates that psychic type stones are exceedingly rare due to the power they contain.”

David nodded. “That’s the catch. We can search for the stone…but there’s a chance we won’t find it in time.” He turned to the recruits. “We need a backup plan.”

Mathew grimaced. The cubone had thought that he had finally found an easy solution, but if they didn’t get that psychic stone in time, what was he going to do…?
 
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Chapters 12 and 13

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 12: Distance
Joey sat quietly on the couch in Meowth’s home as the evening sun poured into the living room. Everyone else was either out of the house or had retreated to their rooms. It was dead silent.

Once more, the totodile flipped idly through the pages of the scrapbook. He was still peeking at all these unfamiliar faces, waiting for something, anything new to click. Ever since he cracked it open before dawn, he’d kept it fresh on his mind.

Right now, everything in his life felt like a cruel irony. Mathew’s scrapbook, a gift meant to ease his worries, only unearthed more questions. His partnership with Meowth was supposed to bring them closer to the truth, but so far it only served to make Mathew angrier. So many of the pokemon he met in SEAS seemed to know more about Mathew than he was allowed to. It’s as if the world was taunting him for his ignorance at every turn.

Even when he got answers, they weren’t what he was looking for. He knew a lot about the Walker family now, but the Johdaile family remained such an enigma. Earlier, Meowth mumbled something to him about a ‘B.L. affiliation’. Joey appreciated the tip, although he was left confused by his terseness when he asked Meowth where he’d heard that term. But it didn’t really help clear up the mystery.

At the end of the day, all he could say about Greg and Catherine was that they were Mathew’s friends. Nothing about whether they were nice folk, or whether they were raising him right, or whether they made sure to keep him safe.

The longer he went without the truth, the more he worried. Meowth assured him that whatever haunted Mathew probably wasn’t his fault, but that wasn’t everything. Why was it that Joey had been brought to Kalmwa’er alone? If not him, what did his mom and dad have to do with the life path Mathew’s been walking? What parts of his lingering knowledge-base could he attribute to them?

And, when Joey picked up that poison gun and held it…why did it feel so natural in his hand…?

He grit his teeth and dropped the scrapbook on the couch cushion. All these thoughts were eating Joey up inside. Whenever he wasn’t preoccupied with SEAS or the Club or training, they directed his mindset like a rider on a saddled horse. Having no identity was his only identity.

But every time he tried to fight it, tried to peel back his curtain, it just seemed to hurt himself and Mathew. Joey had been so annoyed at Mathew’s selective disclosure at Minichino’s house yesterday, but now he didn’t know what to think. Was he doing the right thing, getting Meowth to help him figure this all out?

Maybe it was time he gave it up for a bit.

The totodile sighed. He didn’t really want to stop fishing for his past. Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom had advised him to keep his eyes on his memories instead of his job. But did their advice really ring true? It was Demurke who told him that Greg and Catherine weren’t present in SEAS’ ranks. It was listening to David that helped Joey learn more about what he agreed to before he arrived. Now, with Mathew’s Wormhole Wristlet in the picture, SEAS’ help could be the whole key to retrieving his memories.

It was high time that Joey changed his approach. He needed to accept that playing along with their recruitment was the best way to move forward. On top of the Wristlet, being in a secure position with SEAS, before this whole mess with Meowth, seemed to put Mathew in a better mood. Perhaps securing their jobs would be enough to get Mathew to divulge the truth.

He still reckoned he would help Meowth — that part hadn’t changed. As long as he could do so without angering Mathew, he would. But more importantly, he needed to play this role. He needed to fulfill what SEAS wanted of him. He needed to let go.

So he would. For now.

Chapter 13: Twin Ploys
Each time Joey joined the rest of the Club for post-work training, he couldn’t help but notice how different life seemed to be for folks living at the bottom of the cliff compared to the top. Meowth and the others at the top got lavish condos, well-trimmed yards, and big, sweeping views of the ocean. Minichino and the others that were close to the cliffs and far from the center of town weren’t so lucky. They had to contend with untrodden roads with weeds sprouting up from the dirt everywhere you looked, and homes that were sore on the eyes.

Minichino’s place demonstrated the worst of it. The walls were so thin that Joey could tell where one room ended and another began from the outside — it was like seeing the bones poking out of the skin of the house. Joey was told that the other houses had steel roofing because they protected against any rockfall. The designers of her home couldn’t even afford that protection. The old, drained color from the outer walls seemed like they could suck the hope out of just about anyone.

But not Minichino, nor the rest of the Club, it seemed. Her spirit in each training session never seemed to waver. It was almost infectious, Joey found — it was hard not to give it his all when she was doing the same.

“Woah!” Politoed exclaimed as he stumbled from the strength of his Water Gun attack. “Felt more power in that one than any of the others.”

Joey was quick to follow up by sinking a precise bite into the frog’s arm. Judging by the wince in pain, followed by his grin, Politoed clearly thought well of his form.

“Both you are…really starting…to get with it,” Breloom conceded, knocking away swing after swing from Mathew. She wasn’t able to hold him back when he used his skull mask to bash her chest in.

“Woooo! Yeah!” Minichino gleefully cheered, refereeing their practice with the eagerness that she brought to every event. She was close to throwing her arms up in the air, but she stopped short. In one paw was a mug full of coffee — the other, a berry smoothie she brewed.

Today was the last workday before a two-day weekend, a routine Solceus shared with Earth. Everyone was in high spirits, and all of them were about to have at least slightly more free-time.

That’s when an idea came to Joey. He had to find a way to help Mathew with his new plan to grab their attention, right? And what better way could he do that than keep up the positive energy and get everybody in on it?

“Hey, y’all!” Joey exclaimed, grabbing the attention of everyone before they had the chance to disperse. “Mathew and I are gonna go looking for a psychic type stone over yonder in the market after practice. Anybody wanna come help us?”

“I don’t really have anything better to do until this evening, so…why not?” Minichino remarked.

“J-Jermy and I were…g-gonna help anyway,” Demurke said.

“Seems like a real challenge,” Politoed said. “Aren’t psychic type stones pretty rare?”

However, of all of them, it was only Breloom who asked a cutting question Joey failed to consider. “What do you need a psychic type stone for?”

Shoot.

It had slipped from Joey’s mind that he and Mathew were sworn to secrecy about their SEAS affairs. How the heck was he supposed to explain this? “Oh, Mathew and I are building a portal device to take me back to Earth so we can fix my memories and save ourselves from the military complex”? His SEAS knowledge would be leakier than an old faucet on a rainy day! “Uh… Um… It’s for a contraption SEAS is making,” he said, hoping the vagueness would get them off his case.

“Huh, you’re helping them with a product already?” Breloom remarked. “That’s pretty cool. What kind of product? A TV? A vacuum cleaner? Air conditioning? Something else?”

SEAS makes TVs and vacuums cleaners and air conditioners?! How did Joey know so little about this dang company?! He had no idea how to answer this! And if he just said “We’re not supposed to talk about that,” that’d probably look weird, too! Desperately, he looked to Jermy and Demurke.

Fortunately for the totodile, Jermy seemed to be on top of it. “...Huh? What the — ORB? Hellooooooooo?”

“What’s up with ORB?” Minichino asked.

“He just…randomly turned off. I think he’s broken.” Jermy looked to him, Mathew, and Demurke. “Mathew! Joey! Demurke! I’m gonna need your help on this!” Jermy almost grabbed Joey by the arm to lead him towards Minichino’s house. “Hey, can we work on him in your place real quick?”

“Uh, yeah, sure! Key’s under the welcome mat.”

Jermy led them all into the house with urgency. He set ORB down on the kitchen table, snatched the club out of Mathew’s hands, and used the sharp edge as a screwdriver, opening ORB up from the back. Dozens of wires were exposed, as was the weighted computer that allowed him to operate. The computer was stuffed into the left side of ORB, counter-balancing the weight of the lone claw.

“Okay, that should make it look like we’re actually working on ORB,” he remarked.

Mathew proceeded to immediately slam his face into Minichino’s couch. The robe draped over it dropped and covered his masked muzzle. “Damn it, Joey…” He groaned. “This is the last thing we needed right now!”

“I’m sorry! I was just trying to help!” Joey said.

“Pipe down, you two,” Jermy whispered, tugging at his long ears. “We’re not boiling in hot water just yet, but we might be if they hear us through these walls.”

Demurke looked to the door. “We p-probably have about five minutes u-until our excuse…doesn’t sound s-so convincing.”

Mathew sighed. “Right.” He rolled off of the couch. “Thanks for the quick thinking, at least.”

Jermy smiled awkwardly, tapping his fingers. “It was actually ORB’s idea…”

“Does SEAS make machines that ain’t got to do with this crazy war stuff?” Joey asked the recruiters.

“Yeah. We make products for the business division to sell, too,” Jermy explained. Demurke nodded in agreement.

“So what you’re saying is that you two are the second most qualified people to bail us out of this,” Mathew remarked.

“S-Sure!” Demurke said, looking almost flattered. “We’ll…g-give it a try.”

The four of them started crafting a lie that would most easily make the other Clubs members brush off their curiosity. Joey tried to contribute where he could, but the other three thought fast and spoke faster, so he didn’t get to add very much. It was fair, considering he was the one who caused all this.

Still, he worried about how it made him look. Was that camera that Dit got a photo from still here…?

The totodile couldn’t help but see some comedy in the situation. They needed to do everything they could to hide their humanity from the rest of the Club, but thanks to him, they already knew. He was sure they were chuckling about it outside, not worrying about it at…

…Huh. When Joey peered out one of the windows to get a look outside, he was met with a scene he wasn’t expecting. Yes, Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom were all talking, but even at a distance, he could tell that it wasn’t really a fun chat. They all had serious expressions on their faces, muttering things so quietly that not even the faintest of sounds made it through the glass. None of the three noticed Joey eyeing them at all. Were they all scheming, too?

“Okay, th-that should probably be convincing enough,” Demurke murmured. “Are we all…?”

“Yeah, let’s hop to it!” Jermy exclaimed. He closed up ORB, then led them back outside. Joey tried to keep a poker face.

Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, in stark contrast to what he saw a second ago, were in a much more casual position — spread out, slouched over, and generally looking like they were having a nice chat about the weather. “You guys patch ORB up?” Politoed asked.

“Nope!” Jermy exclaimed, holding up the limp robot. “We tried our best, but it looks like ORB’s just dead. I’m gonna have to fix this with better equipment later.”

“My condolences,” Minichino said with a bow.

“Yeah. Anyways…” Breloom sprung to her feet. As if on-cue, Politoed joined her and the two closed the distance between one another. “What was all this type stone stuff about, again?”

“Oh!” Joey said. “Yeah! You were right. We’re actually helping SEAS with a big project!”

“Really? Dang.” Politoed looked to Jermy. “You sure Joey can just come out and say that?”

“He sure can!” Jermy took two steps closer to Politoed to speak with him better. “It’s totally cool!”

“W-Well, technically it’s a secret…” Demurke added, promptly planting herself next to Jermy to clarify the details of their story. “B-But you guys have been g-great friends, so…we can tell you!”

“Heh, I’m flattered.” Breloom, keeping a spring in her step, took two steps backwards. “Don’t tell me you’re sharing because it’s for some music-related thing!”

Politoed moved back, matching Breloom. “Music’s great, but it’s not our everything to keep up with the latest tech for that kind of stuff.”

Jermy followed suit, moving forward. “No, no! SEAS is radical, but not that radical. We’re not into the music-making business.”

“Y-Yet! I’m sure w-we could convince them.” Two steps forward.

“Well, anyways, we’re getting off topic. If you two want to share all those juicy details with us, go right ahead.” Two steps backward.

“We’re on it!” Two steps forward. “So, the scientists over at SEAS thought…”

All of a sudden, Joey and Mathew were separated from their recruiters. Jermy and Demurke were too busy chatting it up with the power couple to notice him.

“Hey, guys.” The two of them were halted by Minichino. Her voice, for some reason, was rather quiet. “Are you two doing okay?”

Mathew cocked his head. “What? Of course we’re doing okay,” he said, confused.

“I dunno. If you ask me, you both seemed way too panicked when Breloom asked you about the stone — especially you.” She gestured to Joey.

“W-Well, I was put on the spot…” Joey said defensively.

“You were! But still, this all seems like a little bit much over such a basic question, you know?” Minichino’s voice became more sincere, and a bit less light. “You’re sure things over at SEAS are good?”

Mathew shook his head fiercely, with an intense expression on his face. Joey was about to do the same, but…she was right, wasn’t she? With such high stakes going on, SEAS’ recruitment was getting very worrisome, even when the totodile was trying to not let it get to him. He had already trusted Minichino with information way more severe than his state of mind. Was it really worth it to lie about how he felt?

To his indecision, Minichino intensified further. “Look. Later this evening, after we’re done with this type stone search, I wanna talk to you guys about stuff. We can’t do it here though.” She patted the side of her house. “There’s a big building a couple streets down from the Higher Education campus — trust me, you can’t miss it. I want you two to meet me in there. Just you two. Don’t take anybody else.”

Joey was flabbergasted. He and Minichino had had private conversations before, but nothing like this. At the same time as Mathew, he looked back to Jermy, Demurke, Politoed, and Breloom. None of them were listening in on this. What was going on here…?

“Minichino, what the hell are you talking about?” Mathew seemed to feel the same confusion. “I’m not interested in any crazy plans to—”

“It’s nothing crazy!” Minichino said. “I’m not gonna hypnotize you like Meowth or anything. I couldn’t do that if I tried!” She squinted at Mathew, to no avail. “Just…I need to tell you some things that you need—well, deserve to know.”

“Wow, Jer!” Breloom’s loud proclamation reached all three of them. “This sounds pretty cool. You can count Poli and me in!”

They had about ten seconds before this moment of privacy vanished. “I promise, I just want to help,” she pleaded one last time.

Joey looked to Mathew. He seemed concerned, skeptical, almost fearful. The last thing either of them needed was more trouble to make Dit wary about. But Minichino was somebody both of them respected. If she was asking them to speak with her because she knew something important…

As the moment broke away, neither of them objected to Minichino’s offer, and that seemed to serve as a sufficient answer.

Emily had suggested Mathew take it easy yesterday morning. Unfortunately, ‘catching a break’ was not in Mathew’s vocabulary these days. As long as there was a possibility that their main plan could fail, he couldn’t afford to rest.

Until Joey intervened, Mathew had expected to contribute to the hunt for the stone on his own. Now, the entire Club was stumbling through town, searching through every store they could find along the way. Mathew scoured every cabinet and shelf, then turned to the cashier and asked “Excuse me, you wouldn’t happen to have a psychic type stone, would you?” Each time, Mathew was met with shaking heads and scowls.

He probably shouldn’t have expected much from the Solcean equivalent of a tourist trap.

The other Club members didn’t have any better luck. Even if somebody in Kalmwa’er did have a psychic type stone, it’d probably be too expensive for them to afford, with how rare it seemed.

It was a futile effort. But what else was Mathew supposed to do? Find a stone mine himself? He had to help their chances somehow. It’s not like he had a real backup plan yet.

He could try to finish the Wormhole Wristlet without a type stone, but he didn’t nearly have the time and wisdom to do that in eight days. He could try staging another event to show off, but that would be too transparent. He could try to…actually tell Joey…nope, that’s not happening.

Mathew poked a pebble along with his club. If only a so-called ‘therapist’ had actually helped me, maybe that last part could’ve still worked, he thought. His anger was still fizzing within, but there was little he could do about that when his position in SEAS was occupying so much of his attention.

As the Club all split apart for the evening, sharing their “We tried our best”s and “Thank you for the help”s as they parted ways, that lack of hope continued to linger. Mathew was still stewing on it while he and Joey were doubling back away from the gondola. Who knows how much worse it could get if Minichino tried something like Meowth’s stunt?

With the evening sun shining down on them, he and Joey weaved their way through the streets. Mathew peered through the window of each building that passed them by, wondering if this was the place Minichino. Assuming she wasn’t leading them to some back alley, it had to be some kind of public building, right?

That was when the sound of chatter reached their ears. There seemed to be some hubbub a few streets over.

“I wonder what that’s all about,” Joey remarked.

“Maybe it’s some kind of party?” Leading Joey along, Mathew rounded a corner and headed in the direction of the chatter. It wasn’t hard to find the source.

Standing on the side of the street was a tall and wide building built from worn brick. Emblazoned on its front was a yellow circle with lines jutting out in an X shape towards two arcs. Stairs rose up from the dirt to meet the building at the center of the circle, forming a very fancy entryway to a pair of tall open doors.

It was there, at the base of those stairs, where the pokémon were gathered.

“The latest and greatest!” a voice shouted. A small crowd was gathered in front of the building, carrying around stacks of newspapers. Each pokémon was garbed in robes of a strikingly gold color.

“Big announcement from Rayquaza! New development on Solceus’ hottest topic!” another voice said.

The Scolton Gateway’s biggest publication yet!” a third voice exclaimed.

Joey squinted at the building and the crowd beneath it. “What kinda rodeo’s going on here?”

“It looks like a weird cross between a church and a printing press.” The cubone studied all those robes. Strange. Had he seen one like those somewhere before?

This certainly wasn’t the kind of building that was easy to miss. Was this what Minichino meant?

“Hey, this is a bigger hunch than a hunchback in Notre Dame, but I think we should go in.” Joey had the same idea.

“Right.” Mathew pushed his way through the crowd, repeating a polite “Thanks, but no thanks” to each pokémon they passed. Joey fell a bit behind, and when he caught up, there were four copies clutched in his hands.

“You took four of them?” Mathew remarked, peering back at the totodile.

“Look, they were really nice folks,” he said. “And besides, I like crossword puzzles.”

“But they’re all the same crossword?”

“It’ll be a good time-waster!”

The cubone wasn’t ready for how majestic the interior would be. It was an expansive mall of a space, with wooden floors lined by red carpet. A walkway surrounded lines of seats forming a shape similar to a basketball court. Instead of hoops, there was a raised platform with a microphone mounted for use at the center.

What grabbed Mathew’s attention more, however, were the brass statues. They lined the walkway in their own displays, as if it were an art gallery. Some statues were alone, while others were in groups. Mathew slowly walked around, studying each one. Joey followed, but had his attention divided by the newspaper.

As they took a lap around, the figures slowly became familiar to Mathew. That’s…what’s his name…Xerneas, isn’t it? Yveltal… The little blue one… That one guy from Pokémon Go… Are those two supposed to look like planes? Not all of them he could put a name to, but he could get the pattern recognition. These were the Legendary Pokémon, all represented here in miniature form.

There was one particular set that prompted Mathew to stop walking. All four of them were avians, mostly, with three in the front and one propped up behind them. One had fluffy-looking plumage on its neck and a graceful streamer-like tail. One had fierce, angular wings and a lengthy beak. One was coated in flames, from the tail to the wings to the head. The one in the back had massive wings close in shape to hands, a wide stomach, and plates running along its back.

Articuno, Zapdos, Moltres, and Lugia. These were, as he knew them, the Legendary Birds.

Mathew had noticed some bouquets and other small objects rested on the floor in front of some statues, but these four were showered in commemorative flowers and petals. These offers clearly celebrated some kind of high honor. But what…?

It took Joey bumping into him, wide eyes buried on the page, to usher Mathew forward again. He continued along, eyes peeled for Minichino. He didn’t mind that she hadn’t showed up yet — there was a certain statue he was looking for now that he wanted to see first…

Yep, this is the one. To Mathew’s surprise, it was only marginally taller than all of the others, giving it relatively little majesty. He told Joey to wait just in time to avoid another collision.

The statue resembled the likeness of a goat, with a long neck and equally long legs. Its head was almost incomparable to any animal — Mathew could best compare the shape of its face to a helmet or a mask, with a conic appendage stretched out from the back. The statue’s firm eyes almost met his gaze.

Around the statue’s abdomen was a ring of sorts. From that ring, four tiny spires jutted out from it in that same X-shape, linked together by those same two arcs.

This statue was in the likeness of Arceus.

Mathew knew very little about the Arceus of the games on Earth. It felt like he knew even less here. Was this a church for Solcean worship of Arceus? Surely if his symbol was emblazoned on the entrance, it had to belong to him. But in this line-up, he seemed no more significant than the rest of the pantheon.

Huh. Now that he thought about it, wasn’t this the same symbol he was supposed to draw to imbue type stones?

He shook his head. The truth was that he simply didn’t know anything about religion on Solceus. But, while he was here, he…may as well respect the culture of the world he’s stepped into, right? Besides, Mathew was desperate.

Hey, uh, Arceus, is it? He spoke internally, lowering his gaze. I don’t know if you, like, listen to people or anything, but if you do… I could really use some help. If I f—screw up this shot I have, I’m not gonna get the life that I want, and everything I’ve done up to now won’t mean anything. Please, could you like, beam me a backup plan into my head? Or if you’re feeling super generous, could you send a psychic type stone my way? It doesn’t matter how you do it — you could hide it next to a bush I run into, strike me in the head, I don’t care. I just really need this. If you do it, I promise I’ll…be an advocate for your cool religion or something. Please… Uh, a-amen?

“Hey. Super glad you two made it.”

Mathew snapped out of his awkward prayer and looked to his side. There she was — Minichino, standing before them with a gentle smile on her face. To his surprise, Politoed and Breloom were with her, standing a couple paces back and keeping an eye on the door to the church. Those two stood in the shadow of the statues next to Arceus — a legendary Mathew didn’t recognize with gems substituting for hair and taking up space on her chest as jewelry.

But more than anything, Mathew was drawn towards Minichino’s attire. On top of the tattered scarf and Robin Hood-style hat, she was garbed in golden robes, just like the other pokémon around the building.

Now he remembered. That robe she was wearing had been sitting on her couch this whole time, right in front of them. If it was supposed to be a uniform for this church, then…

“Minichino,” Mathew said, surprised. “Are you a priest here?”

She raised her arms. “Surprise?”

Joey’s attention was splintered between Mathew, Minichino, Politoed and Breloom, the strange statues towering over them, and the words in his hands. He had so many questions…but he reckoned he knew which one they had brought them here to answer.

“Did y’all bring us here to talk about this?” He turned the front page of the paper towards the priest and the other Club members. “About the war?”

Mathew looked to Joey in surprise. Before the totodile could act, he snatched one of his spare copies out of his grip and started looking at it himself. “The ‘Great Legendary War’...?” he read aloud.

Politoed was the one to answer. “Been going on for over ten years now.”

“We kinda got the impression you’re pretty sheltered over in Cosaline,” Breloom remarked. “So we thought we’d tell you a bit about it.”

Joey gulped. He knew why they really thought that. He was thankful none of them were giving away their knowledge to Mathew.

“I think I heard people talking about it at some point,” the cubone said, acting bashfully, “but I don’t know much.”

“That’s exactly why we brought you here!” Minichino turned, gesturing for all of them to follow. “You both gotta know what’s going on here.”

Joey passed Mathew a worried look before following her, leaving the two statues behind.

“All of the statues you see here are stand-ins for the Legendary Court — the overseers of Solceus. They’ve been squabbling over how much or little they should get involved with our lives before Solceus even existed. There’s been a big spike in new members to the Court recently, too, which causes even more head-butting!” she explained. “But the structure stays the same. The secondary Courts of Land, Sea, Sky, Life, Death, and Order…and at the center of it all is the Arcean Court, where Arceus is trusted with the final say.”

Joey repeated those seven names to himself. Life and death, land and sea and sky… What was that sixth one? He shook his head. Not important, he reckoned. “How long’s it been that way?”

“Since the beginning,” Politoed chimed in. “But, in our lifetime, that might change.”

They stopped Mathew and Joey at a different statue. This draconic pokémon did not look quite as graceful as the others. His eyes were devoid of pupils, shielded by a pair of misshapen horns. His wings, too, were misshapen. the wing to Joey’s left looked as if most of it had been slashed right off. At the back, he had a tail that Mathew likened to a turbine under his breath.

“Recently, there’s been a couple Legendary Pokémon thinking differently. They say that we’ve been doing it all wrong, and that us mortal pokémon aren’t getting the treatment we deserve. They think that Arceus is to blame, and he needs to go.” Minichino pointed to the draconic statue. “That’s their leader. His name’s Kyurem, and he only joined the Court of Death about two hundred years ago. He came up with the name ‘Anti-Arceus Alliance’, or the Triple A for short.”

Joey took this in with amazement. A full-scale war between gods? He couldn’t really fathom it.

Mathew seemed less surprised and more curious. “Not the treatment you deserve? In what ways?” He gave a sweeping look at their coworkers. “...And do you think that they’re right?”

“Well, it depends on who you ask! A lot of them think Legendary Pokémon are too uninvolved, and that lets things like plastic get made and muck up the dungeons.”

This world’s doomsday clock is ticking. Emily had told Joey that when she came to visit Mathew in the hospital. He already understood pollution was bad…would inaction count as ticking, too?

“About your last question, though?” Breloom piped up. “I don’t give the Court more attention than I have to. But, I dunno. Pollution and danger aside, I think we have it pretty good with Arceus.”

Politoed nodded. “Not crazy about the idea of killing him.”

Joey gawked. “Wait, that’s what y’all meant by ‘he’s gotta go’?!”

“You guys can kill God here? It wouldn’t blow up the world or anything?” Mathew asked, surprised.

“…God?” Minichino seemed wholly unfamiliar with the word.

“Legendaries, Arceus, whatever you call them.”

“When somebody becomes a Legendary Pokémon, their soul becomes tethered to Solceus,” Politoed explained. “Been told that, when one dies, it’s easy for Xerneas and Yveltal to find that soul and bring it back to life. Not the case for us ordinary Pokémon.”

“That’s why the Court wages war by dueling each other to the death until one side remains,” Breloom added. “It’s still their jobs to protect mortals. Regular pokémon with lives to lose fighting on behalf of the immortal Court’s something they call unacceptable. So unless you happen to not actually be Solcean, you’ve gotta watch on the sidelines.”

“Bring people back to life, huh…” Mathew went quiet for a moment, looking away from them all.

Joey was still mulling this all over. It was a lot take in — enough to leave him feeling overwhelmed. He thought this was gonna be all about their mindset with the job, and here he was, getting lectured on the gods. “This is all handy to know, but why’d you rope us in all this way instead of just yammering on at your house?”

Minichino gripped the side of her robe with her paw. The three of them closed the gap between Mathew and Joey, lowering her voice. “Because SEAS’ got two names. Everyone gets that they’re the Scientific Engagement and Activity Society on the outside…but what they actually call themselves on the inside is OCEAN.”

OCEAN…Joey thought he might have heard soldiers referencing an ‘ocean’ in the Waregle before. “What does it mean?”

Minichino took a breath, as if she had to muster the strength to repeat it herself. “The Organized Committee for the Erasure of Arceus’ Negligence.”

“Hah?” Joey took a step back. “Erasure of Arceus’ Negligence? Does that mean they—?”

“They’re trying to play a role in the war.” Mathew was quicker to reach the implied conclusion than Joey was. “That’s why you’re telling us all this for, right?”

She nodded. “If they’re really building armies like I’ve heard, then they’re breaking millions of years’ worth of tradition. Obviously, anybody who wants to work there should know that, right?”

Joey was left in stunned silence for a moment. This whole war thing seemed to have cascading consequences, and it sounded like SEAS, or OCEAN, wanted in on it, for one reason or another. Even if it meant breaking some rules…

…Did that…change much? Yes, it was important to know what they were fighting for, and it was a shame that it took Minichino for that truth to come out. But he and Mathew already knew that OCEAN owned an army and sought a greater mission.

For that matter, neither of them really knew anything about Arceus. Maybe he really was a bad god. Then again, he could just as easily reckon that he was a good god. It’d be hard to get clarity either way — these three would tell him Arceus is good, their recruiters would tell him Arceus is bad, and strangers would probably just give him weird looks.

Although it seemed like the three of them had intended this to make him rethink, Joey was stuck in the same place as before: he would follow Mathew into OCEAN so the two of them could finish the Wristlet together.

Expectantly, Joey looked to the cubone. Did he feel the same way?

“You know, Minichino,” Mathew began. There was some tension in his gaze. “I don’t think I want what you’re selling here.”

“Huh?” the minccino seemed confused.

“I told you before that I wasn’t interested in any crazy plans.” Mathew straightened up, looking serious. “You told me not to worry, and now look! You three are trying to put a wedge in my and Joey’s livelihood while everything we have is on the line.” He pointed the blunt end of the Club at Minichino. “You’re acting just like he did!”

This was the first time Joey had seen any of these three panicked. Minichino backed up a little, her bushy tail straightening. Politoed scratched at his crown. Breloom tilted her head forward, looking uneasily at Politoed. Even he could see how unprepared they were for their grip on this conversation to slip.

“Not what we were going for at all!” Politoed exclaimed breathily. “Didn’t bring you out here to ask you to quit.”

“Then what’s all this then?” Mathew insisted. “You brought us out here to tell us about the war, and then how OCEAN might be breaking laws about it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to quit. Just that you have to be aware.”

“Yeah, Politoed’s right!” Minichino said. “It’s still your choice at the end of the day. We’re not gonna take that away from you. All we wanna do is help you out by making sure you’re aware of what’s going on.”

Mathew stepped closer to Minichino. “You’re sure this is all for our sake?”

Minichino was unfazed by the approach. “Totally. Whatever is going on in your corner of the world, the three of us are here for you.”

He squinted. “Even if that means helping me get recruited into OCEAN?”

“Yep! If there’s anything we can do to make your job easier, we’re all ears.” She brushed a paw through one of her gigantic ears. “Well, I’m at least ten percent ears.”

“If you’re only ten percent ears, we’re done for.” Breloom brought her claws up to her nonexistent ears, then gestured to the side of Politoed’s head.

Joey reached up to the side of his head with his free hand and felt around. “I don’t have ears…”

Mathew stood there for a moment, tension wavering. The ear jokes seemed to be enough to make him break away. “Oh, thank God.” He stumbled back, hand on his mask. “You guys are the real deals after all.”

“Of course we are, Math,” Breloom said, her gentle smirk cutting through any remaining awkwardness between the humans and the Solceans. “The Club’s got some power — we’ll figure something out.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. I…I really didn’t want this to be Meowth all over again.”

Minichino gave a snappy nod. “Neither did we!”

Joey was just glad they didn’t have to worry about this anymore. It felt like a weirdly long time since so many of his friends were on the same page.

They were giving him permission to stick to his guns with OCEAN. That’s the best he could ask for from them.

“Been a hard day for all of us, I think,” Politoed remarked, stretching his back. “Met this slurpuff who sold some delicious sweets while we were out in the market. Why don’t we all get some dessert while we figure out the game plan? My treat.”

“Heck yeah!” Minichino pumped her fists, leading the charge out of the church.

“Weren’t you downing a smoothie just an hour ago?” Breloom asked her.

“Hey, Arceus tells us not to be afraid to treat yourself sometimes!”

Joey was happy to follow along. Things were better this way.
 
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Chapter 14

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 14: Broken Promise

No matter how many times Demurke gazed upon the ocean, she couldn’t help but marvel at it. She had spent a lot of time in Kalmwa’er, but the years had not dulled the appeal of the shimmering waves, extending out into the horizon. She could spend hours committing that image to memory, so wherever it was time to return home, she—

“Erm, Demurke? Are you listening?”

“Ah—! S-Sorry, Mr. Persian…” Demurke said. There she went, drifting off into space again. In a big group, she tended to get away with it, but when it was just her and somebody else, she’d often get caught not listening to a word the other said. It was a bad habit of hers — one of many. I can’t go disrespecting Mr. Persian like that! she chastised herself, resolving to pay more attention.

“It’s alright,” Mr. Persian said warmly, wasting no time in calmly starting over. As he relaxed in his office chair, Demurke spotted him eyeing his office’s window, too. “As I was saying…I do have to wonder how they’re going to react to Minichino’s petition. It’s certainly surprising!”

Demurke couldn’t help but agree. “I hear th-those Geodudes are…kind of bullies. Minichino is really brave for wanting t-to take them on so we can clean Misery C-Cave.”

“I don’t know if she realizes how much she’s helping those humans, doing that.” Mr. Persian shook his head, seeming to reflect. “You know, I’m really proud of her.”

“That’s a s-surprise! You’ve really…warmed u-up to Minichino.”

“I was worried when we first started out, yes. But I’ve seen that underneath all of that spunk is somebody who cares a lot about her friends and the world around her.” He leaned forward and pawed at his face. “Considering her circumstances, she’s doing better than I would, in spite of all of the pressure OCEAN is putting on her.”

“O-Oh. Yeah…” Demurke brought a wing up and played with the tip of her hat. “With wh-what happened to…her mom and dad, a-and all…”

Mr. Persian’s expression changed, and his composure tightened. “Demurke?”

“S-Sorry!” Demurke slammed her wing back onto the armrest. “I-I’m fine.” She hated when she made Mr. Persian worry about her like that. She was getting all worked up over…nothing. What am I doing?! Get it together, Demurke…!

Mr. Persian just sat there for a second, before backing down and relaxing again. “In any case, why don’t we talk about plans for the weekend?” The change in subject was welcome, so Demurke didn’t object. “I’m still waiting on that Every Star a Catcher DVD, but in the meantime, I think I’m going to run some older shows again while I deal with the never-ending paperwork stack, haha.” There wasn’t a lot of power in that laugh. “Are you going to stay here for the weekend? You can watch with me while I work.”

“Aww, I w-wish I could, Mr. Persian…” she said. “But I p-probably should go back to in Fascamile this weekend. If I s-stay too many weekends in a row, I…”

Upon hearing that, Mr. Persian’s became sullen. “Alright. I understand.”

Just as seeing him concerned, seeing Mr. Persian in despair broke Demurke’s heart. “I’m really sorry. I-I really wish I could let you c-come with me, so I could show you m-my room…and the rest of Fascamile, and—”

“No, no.” Mr. Persian raised a paw. “I wish I could, too. But I’ve gone this long with only six floors to work with.”

As Demurke left the office, that remark lingered in her head. Only six floors… It sounded so—

No, no. She couldn’t afford to linger on that. It was just how things were. As far as she knew, it was how things always were.

Demurke wasn’t very good at passing the time. To her left and right were two dense books - to her left, To Rule with Wrath, to Rule with Peace, by Polimagus, and to her right, The Art of War, by Sun Tzu. Both books she was supposed to be reading, and in neither had she been able to push the bookmarks any further along than they had been weeks ago. None of the other books along her dust-coated shelves were able to catch her eye, either. Many of them she had already read several times over.

There were very few other ways she could entertain herself. Everyone else in Town Hall was always hard at work, and she had learned a long time ago that Fascamile itself didn’t have much to offer. So, she had gotten into the habit of simply laying back and watching the hours tick by. I’m supposed to be a productive, contributing person! I can’t always be lounging around like this! she would often remind herself, but it didn’t change much.

Demurke really wished she stayed and watched those DVDs.

Eventually the monotony was broken by a visitor: a familiar brown-furred yungoos, pushing open the door while carefully avoiding turning the lock with his claws. Demurke was eager for the company. “Oh! Hi Y-Yungoos! How…are you?”

“I’m fine,” Yungoos said so curtly that it made Demurke realize he wasn’t here for conversation. “Your dad wants you to come to his office. He seemed pretty eager, so I’d hurry.” And just as quickly as he arrived, Yungoos left.

Demurke stretched against her nest, hopped up, and made for her father’s office. It was a trip she had made many, many times, so it went by in the blur. The next time she was really thinking, she was already before the blue-toned pidgeot’s desk.

“Demoike!” he exclaimed, talons almost leaping off the bar. It wasn’t an intentional bungling of her name — he had picked up a rather thick accent over the years. “How’s your books going?”

“They’re g-good, Dad.” She had long since learned that any other answer would lead to a very tense interrogation from him. There was a pang of guilt in not voicing that she found her reread of them rather boring, but she swallowed it down.

Dit was approving of the response. “Dat Polimagus and dat…Son Soo. With how many times you’ve read dose, you’re bound to learn a thing or two.”

The guilt re-surged, and Demurke swallowed it again. “Anyways, w-what did you…need me for, Dad?”

Dit flipped back to grab a sealed envelope from below and drop it onto the desk. “I need a guy to deliver dis baby.” He slid it toward Demurke.

Demurke picked it up and studied it. “…What is this f-for?”

“Remember dat mission from the minccino you gave me? We’ve gots to make an…addendum to it. Dis is to let Mr. Persian know.”

Demurke was confused. “An addendum? Wh-what are we—?”

“Demoike,” Dit said sternly. “Mr. Persian can tell you after he gets the letter. Going and asking me’s making that process go less quick.” The pidgeot pulled up a blank sheet of paper, dipped the tip of his wing in a nearby ink vial, and began writing on it. With his free wing, he shooed her off.

“R-right. Sorry.” Gah, how could I forget that? she thought. Dad doesn’t like me wasting his time. I’m gonna make him mad, just standing around… She wasted no time in leaving her father to his work.

Still, it was difficult for her to ignore the oddness of all this. It wasn’t unusual for her dad to have a say in the businesses, but there was usually an important reason for it, like that order to increase security around the Rimek circus after what happened there… But this was just a simple trip to a mystery dungeon. What would her father want to change about Minichino’s idea?

As Demurke made her way through the halls, the curiosity ate her up more and more. Eventually, it reached a point where a question sprung to mind: Would it be a good idea to check what’s in the letter first before giving it to Mr. Persian?

I have to respect privacy
, she thought on reflex, but something else occurred to her. If she was expected to helm the Fascamile Town Council, she needed to learn how to responsibly handle delivering information, right? If she saw what this addendum was supposed to be first, she would know how to best share it with Mr. Persian. Besides, if anybody would be okay with receiving a envelope that had already been opened by her, it would be Mr. Persian.

That settled it. Demurke waited until the hall she was in was clear of passerby and then used her wing to carefully unseal the envelope. She unfolded the sheet of paper tucked inside.

OFFICIAL ORDER OF THE ORGANIZED COMMITTEE FOR THE ERASURE OF ARCEUS’ NEGLIGENCE

Proposition for the Isolation and Confrontation of Problematic Individuals

Wh…what…?

To be carried out by: Dit Squad 6; Jermy Shock; Demurke, Murkrow IV of Fascamile

No…

Targets: Meowth II of Kalmwa’er; Minichino I of Scolton; Politoed XXII of Mithlline; Breloom IV of Mithlline

This has to be a mistake. Demurke’s eyes stared wide as she scanned over the details of the plan, stunned by what she was reading. The army and business divisions wouldn’t do this, not so soon after the Club was founded. They couldn’t. When they started out, it was agreed—

Acknowledgement: Previous agreements identified Meowth II of Kalmwa’er and Minichino I of Scolton as protected individuals in spite of their threat levels. However, the terms of this protection were breached by recent actions taken by the two that caused them to obtain compromised information. They can no longer be deemed trustworthy. For the purpose of protecting the best interests of the organization, this component of the agreement is now rendered void. We thank you for your compliance.

—Military and Business Division Management Team

Oh.

It was a good thing she opened the letter before delivering it. She was left standing there, too stunned by every new word to say anything aloud. Continuing the trudge to Mr. Persian’s office with her father’s revisions was like wading through wet cement. Already her headspace was being jabbed with horrible visions of Mr. Persian’s reaction.

A part of her wanted to stop right there and cry. This was awful. But… This was supposed to be normal. They had had to confront a lot of people over the years - it wasn’t a big deal. Why was she feeling this way now?

I have to be an adult and suck it up.

Everything OCEAN was hoping to achieve could be on the line if they didn’t take any action. It had to be done. It had to be done. It just had to…

Demurke made her way back through the portal and towards the elevator. She gave her everything into maintaining her composure, making her back as straight as a sudowoodo. But when the elevator opened up to let her in, it was hard to stay that way.

Behind the luster of the door was a dark interior. The light was flickering, making the brightness of the car flicker with it. The lack of light in the car intimidated her, but she pushed through anyway. She was a dark type. She could handle it.

Once the doors shut, Demurke’s world became much darker. She’d been in this car more times than she could count, but even still, standing alone in this big, empty space was discomforting. It was much easier when she had somebody coming along, like Jermy or—

RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE

Demurke screamed, falling on her rear as the elevator car shook and shook. The envelope fell out of her wings, but she hardly cared. The car was falling, it was falling and now it was her turn to—

“Gaaahahahaha!”

The car stopped shaking and settled as a cackle erupted above Demurke. The murkrow panted, the panic slowly subsiding for confusion and irritation.

A body phased through the ceiling of the elevator and landed down on the floor in front of her. The dark purple pokémon’s bright red eyes, similar to her own, stared her down through the dark. He was still laughing. “Oh, the look on your face… Sorry, Demurke, but I just had to.”

“Genji…” Demurke stumbled to her feet, clutching the envelope tightly in her wing. She opened her mouth to — No, Demurke. I can’t be raising my voice against every little thing… “What a-are you doing here? Why aren’t you at…Emmons Labs?” she inquired, stifling her protests at the mean joke.

“Maintenance,” the gengar answered. “Apparently one of the new recruits short-circuited her electricity while she was in the elevator, and the old owl wanted me to come make sure it wasn’t gonna collapse on us or anything.”

“W-Well… Will it?”

Genji looked at her, annoyed. “Come on, you think I’d let you get on the elevator if it was dangerous? Of course it’s safe. Barely even has any dents in it, no thanks to the other guy whacking that thing against all the walls trying to calm her down…” he grumbled. The two of them were quiet for a moment, but clearly irritated by the silence, he continued, planting himself against the wall. “You know, messing with you did wonders for curing my boredom. Maintenance on this thing is really something else.”

Demurke looked up at the ceiling. “Is the…work boring, o-or…?”

“Nah, not boring, just tedious,” Genji said. “It’s clearly an Earth-style elevator. Not pushed by wind, or the mind, or ghostly essence, but by a set of powerful pulleys only magic-less humans could need to design.” The gengar paced around the elevator in front of her. “So difficult to work with, but useful all the same… I find their ability to take advantage of the mundane fascinating. Don’t you agree, Demurke?”

Demurke stalled for a moment. Truthfully, she knew much less about Earth than Genji seemed to. She had only ever heard stories about the dangerous climate but great technology the world offered, but she had never been there herself. A lot of them were from Jermy, too, so they were definitely out of date. “I-I don’t know…” she said.

Genji rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised.”

“What’s…that supposed to m-mean?”

“Well, you just happen to say that a lot. About a lot of things.” Genji squinted at her. “You’d think after ten years of us all working together, you would have more to say. Or are you just gonna keep delivering your parents’ messages around without an extra word?” He pointed to the envelope still in her wing.

Demurke flinched back at the accusation. It was distressing, but she knew it was impossible to refute. “…S-Sorry.”

As the elevator reached the ground floor, Genji just shook his head. “Whatever. You can go on ahead. I’ve got more work to do here.” The doors opened, pouring light into the dark elevator car, and he remarked, “Thanks for the entertainment, at least.”

Wordlessly, Demurke drifted out of the elevator. She could still feel Genji’s eyes on her back while the doors shut. He had always been one of the smarter workers in Fascamile’s Town Council, before OCEAN started. But why did he have to be so…?

Click. Without a second thought, Demurke locked the door in the Fitness Room and put the key back on her tail’s band. She kept walking, and walking, and walking…and then she paused.

Why did she get off on ground floor?

Demurke, Demurke, Demurke! Mr. Persian’s office was a short walk from the elevator on the sixth floor. She knew that! She’d been coming here for years! How could she make such a stupid…

Demurke had been able to calm herself before getting on that elevator, but Genji’s prank had really messed her up. She almost whirled right around so she could get back on, but at this point, the murkrow could see her wings trembling, carrying the envelope. To be a good leader, I have to be strong. I can’t go to Mr. Persian like this!

Well, now that she was on the ground floor of the resort…there was somewhere she could go before making for Mr. Persian’s office. A place that tended to help with this sort of thing. Demurke made for the big door at the back of the resort and pushed through.

The Kalmwa’er Resort pool was of fairly impressive size for what little recreation it got. To her right was an open-air traditional pool area; to her left, a loop of a lazy river. Mr. Persian had made sure, to the best of his ability, that the pool area could accommodate most everyone — the pool was as deep as an arbok was tall, and the lazy river was as wide as a dragonair. It was no Waregle pool, but it didn’t need to be.

Flotation devices of all sorts were available on demand for pokémon her size. Demurke, however, had long since discarded the need for floats, able to swim on her own just fine. As she set the envelope down on an unoccupied table, she recalled hearing that birds on Earth were incapable of swimming at all. What a tragedy that was — her heart broke for them.

For a Saturday afternoon, the crowd seemed to be quite tame, and most people had elected to spend their time in a proper pool over a lazy river. That made it perfect for Demurke. After wading into the water, pushing out, and turning onto her back, she would go undisturbed.

This was where she came to every once in a while, when tensions ran so high that she couldn’t even think straight anymore. It left her in a blissful, tranquil state where she had no reason to think about any of her ailments. The coursing water made her bob as it gently funneled her around this endless, repeating path. Each time she was here, Demurke would stay in it for so long that she would forget how many times she had been around, all of the past loops washed away by the passing of time.

As she laid there, a few memories came to the surface of her mind. She was drawn to a conversation she had had with Jermy a few years ago, when she was thirteen. Something…very important had happened recently, and she was checking in with him to see if he was okay. Demurke didn’t remember a lot of the actual words exchanged, but she did remember what he first showed her.

“I call it the Observational Recreation Buddy!” Jermy had presented to her an unfinished robot, along with a sketch of what it’d look like when it was done. “It’s gonna be a super smart computer AI with a wit that can’t be beat.”

“W-Wow, Jermy!” Demurke had exclaimed. “That’s…really nice. And working on it so soon after…” The rest of the sentence was muddy in her head.

Jermy’s expression had sunken then. “Yeah. But hey, the world isn’t gonna stop for me.” His expression had perked up again. “That’s why I’ve gotta keep working, no matter what!”


Right. Whenever she got like this, she had to remember that. Just as the river does, her life was going to continue moving, always, to the same end. All she had to do was coast. Coast, and let things fall the way they were supposed to fall… She just had to deliver the letter to—

Meowth’s glare cut into her like a dagger. “Do you even realize you’re sitting where my father’s supposed to be right now?”

Demurke gasped, and suddenly she was floundering. With wing flaps, she fought for a stability that never came, desperately trying to keep herself from sinking. The best she could do was push her way to the wall, return to the stairs, and climb out.

That old memory… Demurke turned to stare at the lazy river, adjusting her hat misshapen by the water. Droplets fell from her wings — they would continue to drip away for some time, lingering on the tips of their dyed interiors. I can’t be letting random thoughts like that mess with me! It’s so…silly.

At least her wings no longer trembled when she picked the envelope back up, shooing away a janitor who was close to tossing it. This was about the calmest she was going to get here. She was ready, now.

Soon, almost faster than she could process, she found herself at the door to Mr. Persian’s office. She could hear some noise on the other side. When she pushed it open, it quickly became clear what it was — a movie the Murkrow didn’t recognize was playing on a TV set up in the corner of the room by the cat’s bed. Her employer’s desk was stacked with even more papers than it usually was, and an empty can of food stood at its corner.

When Mr. Persian’s eyes lifted from the desk and laid on her, his expression brightened quickly. “Demurke!” he exclaimed. “I thought you weren’t coming in this weekend. Did you stop by the pool on the way here? You look soaked.”

“I-I didn’t think I was gonna come back, either…” Demurke admitted.

He sprung from the desk and approached her. “Do you want me to get you a towel? I could—”

“No,” she mumbled, putting the envelope up in his face. “This…this is more important. It’s f-from Dad, about the Misery Cave mission.”

“Ah.” Mr. Persian slowly rescinded, returning to his desk. Demurke removed the letter from the envelope and set it down on his desk. “Let’s see here…”

The next three minutes were deathly silent. Demurke watched his eyes move lower and lower down the page. She slowly gravitated towards the wall, waiting for something to happen. The only sound in the room was that of the movie — some kind of old drama.

“Demurke.”

Demurke almost flinched — his voice was firm, cutting. “Y-Yes?”

“Could you turn off that TV, please?”

She turned her head towards it, eyeing the power button on the side. “Yes, s-sir.” She pressed it, and the screen went blank, overflowing the room in silence. “Is th-there anything el—”

CLANG, went the can, flying straight into the screen, daring to crack it if it had even slightly more force than it did. Mr. Persian sloppily grabbed a stack of post-it notes, prying sheet after sheet, crumpling them up, throwing them across the room. Ink was spilt all over the desk, vial knocked over without a second thought.

“M-Mr. Persian!” Demurke cried. Immediately, she ran around the desk, wrapping a wing around his back.

“They promised me, Demurke!” Mr. Persian screamed. In one swift motion, his claws tore through a stack of pages. “They promised me this wouldn’t happen!!

“I know!” She wrapped herself around his neck, trying her best to hold him back, keep him from wrecking his desk any further.

“Nine years of this,” he yelled. “Nine years! I do everything they ask, and this is how they treat me?!” Mr. Persian thrashed about in desperation, but she refused to let go.

“I know, I-I know…” There wasn’t anything else she knew to say.

“All I wanted was a chance to see him, and…!” His flailing failed him, and he collapsed, burying his head. “They’re gonna hurt him, Demurke. They’re gonna hurt him, and Minichino, and…!” Mr. Persian’s voice wavered until he broke, blubbering through a storm of tears and anguish.

All Demurke could do was keep holding him, trying to comfort him the best she could. She desperately wished she could change everything — unbreak this promise, unmake the Pick-it Up Club, unsign all the contracts.

But this was just how things were.
 
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Chapter 15

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 15: In-advocate Overtime
In a normal week, the weekend was supposed to be a light break from Club work and the recruitment process. Unfortunately, given their circumstances, a break was the last thing Jermy knew they needed.

The four of them — himself, Mathew, Joey, and Meowth — were hiking their way through Pawalmtry Forest, each carrying brittle plastic bags they had dug out of the corners of Meowth’s condo. Jermy hadn’t been interested in paying the mystery dungeon surrounding Kalmwa’er a visit on their off-days, but Mathew and Joey had insisted on it.

According to them, in addition to this new hike to Misery Cave they were arranging, Minichino had given them the idea to do some off-the-clock work over the weekend. Somebody with a camera, like ORB, could record it, so they could show it to David and Dit. It seemed a bit excessive to Jermy, but he supposed the excessiveness was the point.

The pikachu couldn’t help but be a bit curious about the whole matter. He had no idea when, where, or why the Club members had crafted this new plan — he’d just been told it had happened. Jermy didn’t even know if his bosses had approved of it.

On top of his confusion there, Jermy still needed to keep an eye on Meowth. To tell the truth, he had no idea why he had come with the three of them. They hadn’t really asked him to join. Didn’t he dislike cleaning?

In any case, the lot of them were here, and already Jermy was quite tired. “Go…on…without me,” he mumbled, throwing himself into the side of the steep hill they were trying to climb up in their search for more trash.

“Wow, tiring out already?” ORB asked, effortlessly rolling his way up the incline.

“Easy for you to say,” he said, lifting his head out of the dirt. “You have wheels! Would you be so cocky if I knocked you over?”

“And you would?”

“…Faaaaaaaaaaaaaair point.” Jermy climbed to his feet and pressed on.

Mathew, Joey, and Meowth were waiting on him at the wide, oval-shaped summit of the hill. Up there was a whole assortment of litter and waste dotting the space around the trees and brush they would inevitably have to navigate around to clean the place.

“Hah… If only these mystery dungeons could magically put all this in a nice little pile when they shift, working overtime would be easier than a balk in a breezeway…” Joey muttered.

“If you let the dungeon shuffle at least three million, two hundred forty five thousand, nine hundred eighty two times, maybe you’ll be able to get that pile,” ORB said. “Not that it would stop any of you from complaining about having to climb that, too.”

“Well, on the bright side, we already know how to make this a lot less boring…” Mathew looked to him. “Jermy?”

“Huh? Oh, right!” Jermy had almost forgotten their strategy in Asulaguah Beach.

“That seems like a bad idea,” Meowth remarked, leaning against the side of a tree with a paw.

“Hey, it made work a hell of a lot better on the clock,” Mathew snapped back. “Why not off the clock, too?”

Meowth’s body language quickly shifted, pushing off of the tree and becoming more defensive. “Fair enough,” he said, not retaliating against Mathew at all.

Jermy wordlessly got ahead of the group, towards the center of the hill. ORB was just behind him. “This time, let’s not charge up the Round too much,” he advised.

“You should pick a shorter song then,” ORB remarked.

“Right…” After having to keep up with a classical song for five passes, Jermy was more than willing to go with something easier, that didn’t require a backing track. “Let’s do this…” The pikachu backed up, then gathered the energy. “Ooooooooooooooooooooh who lives in a pineapple under the sea?” As Jermy passed it off to ORB, he caught Mathew staring at him, his expression a mix of stunned and confused.

Luckily, ORB didn’t need any commands to recognize this. “Sponge-bob…” He passed it back.

“...Square-pants!” He cried, spinning and smacking the ball of musical energy into the ground with his tail. A smaller, much more controlled shockwave burst from it, kicking up a lot of dirt and a lot of plastic waste straight into the air.

“Yeeeeehhhaaaaa…awww.” Joey’s hype quickly died as the four of them realized how much of a mistake retrying this game in Pawalmtry Forest was. Much of the trash had been launched from its safe placement on the ground right into the trees, catching on branches and leaves — not very conductive to catching. “I reckon we should’ve thought this out a little more,” he said.

Meowth, still standing away from the rest of them, remarked, “I tried to warn you.”

“Oh, piss off,” Mathew said. “Saying ‘this is a bad idea’ and not elaborating is hardly a warning!”

“...Yes it is?” Meowth seemed confused.

“Oh, fuck you,” he mumbled, out of earshot for Meowth but definitely in earshot for him and Joey. Jermy could only sigh — this feud between them had hardly improved over the past few days. He wished he could make it stop, but it’s not like he could magically repair a relationship…

“Y’all, is it really necessary to yap at each other over… Uh, Mathew?” Joey now seemed less concerned by Mathew’s comment and more concerned by Mathew’s actions; the cubone had approached a tree and hugged himself around it. “What in tarnation are you doing?”

“Knocking the trash down. What else would I be doing?” Mathew answered. Slowly, carefully, and with great effort, he began to scale the tall trunk.

Joey scrunched his maw at that. “I reckon I should do that. Between the two of us, I’m pretty sure I’m still the better—”

“I insist!” Mathew said firmly. He settled one foot onto a branch, and then the other. “I’m the one who brought up the game and started this. I need to be the responsible man and fix it myself.” He threw himself down, wrapping his arms around the branch.

Jermy began to panic. That branch hardly seemed like it could hold Mathew. “Hey, you don’t have to do it so riskily!” he told him, approaching Mathew from below but carefully avoiding the space directly beneath him, in case he fell. “I know a bunch of these things called ‘circus maneuvers’ for problems just like this! I could launch you up and—“

“You and Demurke already helped last time!” Mathew exclaimed. He shimmied himself along, making his way towards a dangling plastic bag. With every movement he made, Jermy could see the branch wobble more and more. “Now it is my turn. It is my turn, and I am going to—aaaah!”

SNAP.

Mathew, as well as the low-hanging branch his weight just broke, tumbled to the ground. Jermy barely had time to leap away before the crushing weight dropped on top of him. Mathew smacked against the thin wood on his way to the grass. The cubone squeaked in pain, sliding off of it and clutching his chest.

“Mathew!” Jermy exclaimed. He, Joey and Meowth were quick to come to his aid, gathering around him.

“Scans show no signs of major breakage,” ORB remarked. “He’ll be fine.” A collective sigh of relief flowed out from all of them.

“Well…” Mathew looked up at them all. “Guess I was barking up the wrong tree there,” he muttered.

Jermy could only sigh. Mathew was so steadfast in his goal that he was putting himself at risk to get things done. Had the increased pressure from the time limit really motivated him so much?

“Jermy, we gots to talk about your work with da humans,” Dit had said. The pidgeot was failing to give him his full attention, splitting his focus with some kind of letter he was writing between statements.

“What about it?” Jermy had asked. “Sure, maybe the game didn’t go all that well, but trust me, they’ve got more than enough things rolled up their sleeves that’ll totally—”

“It’s not about
what dere doing,” he had clarified. “It’s about how dere going about it. They want da job, yes, but they’re not buying what we’re selling. Mathews is here for da good life, and da croc…I dunno what he wants.”

…And?”

“Dere supposed to wanna
fight, Jeremy,” Dit had reminded him. “Making ‘em hankering to do that is your job. You gotta stop handling it like one of your little science projects. It’s not just about da status reports and progress markers. It’s about getting them to believe in da cause.”

Jermy had cocked his head. “Is it a crazy big deal if they want to be a part of OCEAN for a reason other than believing in the cause?” he had asked. “I thought priority number one is just to get Mathew on-board with the business enough that he’ll trust us when we tell him…y’know.”

“Is it a crazy big deal if I roll over your foot for saying something so inaccurate?” ORB had chimed in.

“See, youse got some sense, robot,” Dit had remarked. “Jeremy, trust is all about loyalty! Knowing we all gotta be dere for one another… If dey aren’t willing to scratch our feathers, how do we know dey’ll let us scratch dere’s?” The pidgeot clutched the parchment he was working on with his wings and held up the backside towards Jermy. He couldn’t make out any of the words from this angle, and Dit seemed to want to keep it that way for now. “I’m doing what I can tah see if loyalty is here. Meanwhile, you gotta hold up your end of the bargain. If you don’t stick da landing, dis plan is toast.”


As Jermy helped Mathew back up, Dit’s reprimands lingered in the pikachu’s head. Maybe this venture through the forest could be another shot at getting his head in the game? Jermy could only try…

After things calmed down, they quickly made work of the tiny plateau. The litter on the ground was handled by Jermy, Mathew, Meowth, and even ORB, while Joey took on the role of knocking off everything that had caught on the trees. Luckily, the branch Mathew had broken was the worst damage they did to that hill.

The task was going swimmingly…until the sound of shuffling could be heard. A lot of shuffling.

“Do y’all hear that?” Joey was the first to notice, pointing down and away from the hill. Jermy turned and —

“Whuh oh…” At the base of the hill, Jermy’s eyes made contact with a whole mob. A little sea of ratatta, both in purple and black shades, had congregated below them, about twenty strong.

“Get away from here!” one of them cried.

“Those are our scraps!” another exclaimed. Following it was a whole rumble of declarations, some quite threatening in nature.

Mathew looked down upon them all judgingly. He wasn’t having any of this. “What the hell do you even want with this stuff?” he asked, holding the filled plastic bag over his head. “It’s literally trash.”

“Scraps have food scraps in them!” a black-furred rattata said.

“We want our scraps!” a purple-furred rattata demanded.

A chant arose and erupted from them all. “Scraps for scraps! Scraps for scraps! Scraps for scraps!” Then, suddenly, they all burst into a charge up the hill.

Jermy’s ears and tail tensed up in panic. “ORB, how bad is this gonna be?”

“Vital scans indicate collective malnourishment,” ORB informed them. “Conclusion: they are numerous, but very puntable.”

Mathew brandished his bone club. “Then we’ll punt them.”

As Jermy admired how much Mathew’s capability in combat had increased between his training in the Waregle and with the Club, the pikachu realized that an opportunity had been handed to him on a silver platter. He leapt close to the cubone and called, “Stick close!” just as they came upon them.

These were the rats, alright. Gnawing at their legs, headbutting their chests, trying everything to wrest their bags from their grips… The floor was blurred with purple and black. Jermy, grunting with pain as he tried not to let the rattata ground him, had no sight of ORB or Meowth — all he could do was back Mathew up. He fired an electric bolt into the crowd, but they were surprisingly aware and nimble, with only a few getting singed as they leapt out of the way.

That changed when, descending from above, a small spout of water sprayed a purple-furred rattata, causing it to squeal in pain. “Jermy!” Joey cried from above, sitting pretty in the nearby tree. Jermy realized what he had to do — before the rattata had a chance to regain its bearings, the pikachu sent a searing thundershock its way. It cried out before falling over, unconscious.

One down, nineteen or so to go…

Behind him, Mathew was holding back the crowd with just his club alone. “You know you all could just…join society if you want food, right?!” Out of the corner of Jermy’s eye, Mathew smacked a black-furred one right out of the air. “You could get jobs, get your ugly mustaches trimmed…” the cubone gasped in realization as one of them bit down on his club and started pulling at it like a dog pulling a toy from the owner’s hand. “You could go to college and become frat boys!”

“They don’t even know what the word ‘college’ means!” Jermy reminded him as he whirled and lobbed lightning towards the rattata on the club. It passed by the immune Mathew and fried it out of commission.

“Thanks!” Mathew exclaimed, throwing the creature off of his club.

As Jermy sweeped a pair of rattata with an Iron Tail, Dit’s advice once more echoed through his head. It occurred to him that he needed to keep encouraging Mathew. “You know,” he said with a pant, kicking one, “If you could handle this, I bet you could handle any bad boy that gets in OCEAN’s way!”

Jermy expected Mathew to give a glare so snarky that you could just tell he was smirking beneath his mask and reply ‘So you noticed!’ Instead, he was met with a confused look. “Aren’t we out here to not end up in the military fighting—shit!”

In the moment Jermy had distracted him, Mathew had been overtaken by a purple-furred rattata that had leapt onto his chest. The cubone fell back to the ground, his head towards Jermy. The pikachu panicked, but before he could answer, the clever little thing grabbed the nose of the Cubone’s mask with his teeth and pulled it up, using it as a shield. His electric attack bounced off, striking a random rat, but not the one on top of Mathew, now scratching at his shoulder holding the plastic bag full of trash.

Jermy fumed, which wasted just enough of his time for a black-furred rattata to make a searingly painful bite at his tail. He yowled as the pain shot up, hardening his tail with an iron sheen in response, but now a couple of them were trampling him over from the front!

Bite. Scratch. Bite. Copious amounts of pain came upon him, from all sides. Jermy was incapable of launching any attack from this position. He groaned, trying and failing to get them off.

“ORB…H-Help…!” Jermy called. Where was his machine? He heard the sound of his laser firing, but it wasn’t in his direction. Why couldn’t it have been towards him? He needed ORB. He needed him, just as he always—

A gray blur dropped onto a pair of unsuspecting rattata, and with two furious swipes, both of them went down. The fading Jermy watched as Meowth slashed the rat atop Mathew, popped a Reviver Seed into his mouth, and put him on his feet. Then, shortly after, he came to his aid too, freeing him from the dangerous buck teeth and short claws. The soothing juices of an Oran brought Jermy back into the action in no time.

The fight didn’t last very long after that. With Mathew, Jermy, and Meowth all working together, the remaining dungeon pokémon didn’t stand a chance. Eventually, the number of rattata matched the number of them, and that prompted them all to flee.

“We got scraaaaapped…” one whined as they ran back down the hill.

Jermy panted as he watched them go. “That was close…” he carefully stepped over one of many beaten, unconscious rats. “Guess they found out how much trouble they could get into.”

“Not a lot,” Meowth remarked, patting his emergency kit. He turned towards Mathew.

Mathew gave him a stern glare, then peeled his eyes away. “How did you even get to us, anyway? There had to have been at least four of those things in the way.”

“I helped shoot down the ones around Meowth like a big ol’ turret!” As Joey shimmied down the tree, he eyed Mathew and added, “I reckoned he could use it more, since he was alone.”

“Well…” A beat. “Thanks.”

There was a stillness in the air now, much unlike the chaos of moments ago. As Mathew continued facing the direction the remaining three or so went, Joey and Meowth shared a look Jermy couldn’t really get a read on. At this point, the pikachu was lingering on another thought.

He had been trying to encourage Mathew earlier, bolstering his ability to believe in the cause OCEAN was giving him…but the results had been catastrophic. If he had just not said anything, Mathew wouldn’t have been distracted, and Meowth wouldn’t have had to waste one of his kit’s reviver seeds.

As they all quietly got back to work, going around their fallen enemies to clean up the hill, Jermy could not get past that fact. So much so that he could hardly think about their work.

“You missed this one,” ORB said, using his claw to point at a piece of sheet plastic coated in a gross-looking substance.

“Oh, thanks.” Jermy held it by the edge and stuffed it in the bag before walking forward.

“And the one on the bush,” ORB pointed out.

“Oh.” The pikachu fumbled as he pulled a tiny fragment of cardboard from the bush.

ORB continued to trail him, as always. “I’m detecting incredibly high levels of tilt from you, Jermy.”

Jermy grumbled, “Well, maybe I am tilted.”

“You should go stomp it off,” ORB ordered. “The others will notice you getting so distracted.”

“Fair enough…” Jermy sighed, before turning and calling out, “Hey, guys, I’ll be right back! Gonna skedaddle out on my own and see if I can find more trash.”

“Oh, really?” Mathew seemed a little surprised. “Alright. Just don’t get your ass kicked while you’re out there, I guess.”

“Thanks! I don’t plan on going too far, don’t worry…”

A dozen paces down the hill later and Jermy was alone with a revelation he had been ignoring for some time: he wasn’t cut out for this recruitment job. At all. He could sell people on a project just like that, but a mission, cause, or belief? He had no idea how to articulate that, or even introduce the concept. The fact greatly frustrated Jermy — all this time he was spending with Mathew and Joey, and he had barely improved.

How had he even ended up at this position, anyway? It wasn’t his specialty or line of work or anything like.

He thought back to the moment this arrangement had formed. He had been rushed through the elevator to the Resort by David and Dit, making a beeline for Mr. Persian before he began his workday. Luckily, they had caught up to him sharing a private chat with Demurke in front of the elevator.

“Is something the matter?” he had asked, looking concernedly at the out-of-breath trio. While Jermy had been the only one to sprint the whole way, using wind to push themselves forwards had, appropriately, taken the wind out of both David and Dit’s sails. Both the cat and Demurke backed up against the wall to give them all space in the cramped staircase.

“We need you to…change…plans,” David got out past his panting. “A human’s been dropped in…Pawalmtry Forest.”

“Two humans,” Dit clarified.

“Oh!” Demurke exclaimed, a mix of excitement and worry. “Y-You want me to help take care of them?” she presumed. “It’s been a wh-while since I’ve d-done that, but…”

The pidgeot nodded. “But dere’s something you gotta know—”

“One of the humans didn’t come through the normal method. Our trackers suggested a portal that doesn’t belong to us cut into Solceus. I can’t say for sure, but…we think it might be Mathew.”

Demurke’s eyes widened, knowing exactly what this meant. “
Oh.” She eyed Jermy with a worried glance. Jermy gave one back in return.

“I don’t recognize that name, but if it’s somebody of importance, we will find them,” Mr. Persian said, looking confused but respectful of their worry. “I’ll shorten their hours and have them work in Pawalmtry Forest so Demurke can search.”

It should have ended there, with Demurke setting out alone, rescuing Mathew and Joey, bringing them to David, and monitoring them on her own. But then…

“Wait, wait, dis isn’t right,” Dit muttered. “Mathew’s leaping through one of dose portals, right? Don’t that mean he’s gonna have everything still in his noggin? Memory Printing, or something like that?”

“Theory of Conscious Memory Imprinting, yes…” It took a moment for the decidueye to fully register that. “Oh, you’re right. He probably wouldn’t respond as well to the regular recruitment process, wouldn’t he? Especially considering us having…”

The murkrow’s eyes flicked between Dit and David. “Wh-what would you like me to do, then…?”

“Nothing you gotta do,” Dit responded. “You’re gonna hafta have some backup. A recruiter who’s techy, and could get right on his level.”

David turned his head towards the ceiling while thinking…and then, he looked down upon Jermy. “…What’s with the funky look?” he asked David.

“How much time do we have?” the decidueye asked everyone else.

Mr. Persian grimaced. “I don’t know how long I could stall without looking odd. A few minutes, maybe?”

“Hardly enough time to find anybody else…”

Jermy’s mouth dropped as he realized what David was thinking. “Are you suggesting I should—?!”

“I’ve caught up, you speedsters.” The elevator doors opened to reveal ORB, who had struggled to keep up with the three of them and had fallen behind. “If you don’t want to lose me, maybe you should start carrying me.”

“...Um,” Demurke began. “How d-did you push the buttons with your…?” She gestured to his arcade claw.

“Very carefully.”

David groaned, picked up the robot, and shoved it into Jermy’s hands. “We don’t have time to get anybody else, and you’re familiar with Mathew as much as I am — maybe even more! If they think you’re just a higher-up here to inspect the Club, that just happens to be interested in working there for a time…”

“David, this is a kooky plan,” Jermy said mildly. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You can do this,” he assured him. “I’m confident in that. I’ll even clear up your schedule so you can get this done, if I have to.”

Mr. Persian studied the pikachu. “Erm…welcome to the Club, Jermy?”


And that was that. He’d hardly said any words, and suddenly he had been thrust into being Mathew and Joey’s caretakers with no proper experience or really even knowledge. He could have fought for his position in the science division, saying he was too essential to take on the project of recruiting Mathew. He could have suggested one of the actual recruiters that did dabble in both the army and the technology take them on. He could have given an idea for how to buy time so that somebody with experience could have joined Demurke.

In the end, he had done none of those things. He didn’t have the guts to speak up.

Jermy sat down next to a wilting patch of flowers as he pondered. Maybe that was the reason Jermy had struggled for all these years. He was stuck living beneath the foot, paw, or talon of others, doing their work, completing their tasks, in the distant hope of making Solceus a better place.

But was all this subservience, exhaustion, loss, and stress really worth that reward? Was giving up everything he had once been living for again and again, getting trampled over like these wilting flowers, really what was best?

Jermy peered left and right, making sure nobody was watching…and then, he reached out his hand overtop of the flowers and curled a finger. In an instant, the patch all rose up, bursting and blooming with life.

The pikachu made a resolution then, helping these flowers. He didn’t know what it was going to look like, but from now on, he was not going to let his superiors steamroll him over. He, too, needed to straighten his stem and take in the sunlight he had been missing. He would cut his own path and do things his own way, however that emerged. Even though he hadn’t acted on it, even the thought of doing this made the pikachu giddy, putting a spring in his step as he walked through the forest.

“...ermy…J-Jermy!”

He stopped in his tracks. Was that…Demurke’s voice? Jermy sprinted back towards the others, and sure enough, there the murkrow was, conversing with Mathew, Joey, Meowth, and ORB. “Demurke? What are you doing here?” Jermy asked.

“I-I could say the same to…y-you guys!” she retorted. “But th-that’s not a big d-deal. One of Mr. Persian’s bosses needs to see you. It’s about s-something…really important.” When she said that, she glared at Meowth for a long moment.

The cat could only shrug. “Fine. I’ll go back to the condo. You guys have your meeting.”

As Demurke led them back to town, Jermy could only wonder what would prompt OCEAN to bring them in so suddenly…
 
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Chapter 16

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 16: Begrudging Compliance
“Y’all want us to what?!

Joey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When he and Mathew had been asked to drop by Dit’s office in Fascamile again for some information about their upcoming trip to Misery Cave, he had presumed that the pidgeon was going to give them pointers. Maybe some advice on how to fight in a dank, dark cave, or how to deal with the geodudes lurking inside the cavern. What the totodile wasn’t expecting was an order — especially not one this intense.

“It’ll be an easy job for youse,” Dit said, casually slouched back, letting his grip on the bar he seemed almost glued to keep him from falling. “That Meowth’s diggin’ himself in some hot wattah — but not hot enough that we gotta bring in da big guns. We just need to rough ‘em up and tell ‘em to back off, and I’d like tah bet that the both of youse are ready to do it.”

Shocked into silence, Joey looked towards his companions, desperate to see their own opinions. Demurke had been quiet since she had helped lead them to the office with David, who was waiting outside, so he could hardly get a read on her. Jermy… Joey couldn’t really figure out what he was thinking. He seemed positive as ever, but something about it just felt forced to the totodile. And Mathew—

“How could we fight Meowth in the middle of work and not get our asses handed to us?” Joey was disconcerted by the fact that Mathew’s question was not accusational, but inquisitive.

Dit wasted no time with his explanation. “I’ve got ya covered. We got one of our teams to take a look-see at this dungeon you’re tryna crawl through. There’s a big split down da middle, leads you far down the cave on different ends. Demoike will lead everyone who don’t gotta be involved to one side, while Jeremy will lead youse and Meowth the otha way to do the deed. Do it right, and he won’t say a peep to ‘em, and it’ll be like it never happened.”

Joey wasn’t really sure how to answer to such a mission. Meowth had made some mistakes and dug his hand too deep into all this OCEAN stuff, sure, but did that warrant assaulting him into compliance? Maybe if he could make them dial things back into confronting him verbally…

“Are y’all sure they won’t think that it’s weird we’re splitting up?” he pointed out. Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom were pretty smart — Joey couldn’t imagine them letting Meowth get physically hurt like that, even if they weren’t super friendly to him.

“…O-Only if we make it w-weird.” That was the first time Demurke had spoken up — and it, too, was in support.

“The bird is right,” ORB said, settled on the floor next to Jermy and Demurke’s chairs. “Due to the abundance of waste in all regions of the dungeon, there is a good reason to warrant splitting up. They might not listen to this dingus if he randomly said to divide and conquer—“ he whacked Jermy with his claw. “But they would probably trust a robot’s intuition.”

“And the cave?” Joey kept pressing. “I reckon a cave makes sound echo more than a mountain goat on a mountaintop.”

“Don’t worry about your gogoats or whosever — we already got one,” Dit remarked, trying to sound cheeky. “Like I said, it’s a big, big cave. They won’t hear da scuffle, and if they do, they might write it off as all those geodudes you’re supposed tah be fighting.” He straightened up and tucked his wings at his sides. “Trust me. I’ve been in da business long enough to know what works. If you do it right, it’ll work. Youse wanna make your employments happen? This is da way to do it.”

So that was it, then. They were all totally, definitely doing this. Mathew, Joey, and Jermy were going to lure Meowth into a secluded part of this cave and…beat him up, then threaten him to make him stop messing with OCEAN. It made Joey feel…weird. The totodile fidgeted with his tail, tucked between his legs as he sat. He knew he needed to support Mathew and get them into the organization, but this was serious.

But what could he say about all this? Without his memories, his grounding to the knowledge he’s retained, he doesn’t exactly have many argumentative points to stand on, other than that gut feeling of ‘it’s wrong’. Still, he was in a whole different world, and the way things worked seemed to be different, too. Nobody else seemed to think this was weird, or cruel. Maybe his gut here was just—

“You know what? This is a really stupid plan.”

It was as if Jermy had dropped a bomb into Dit’s office. Everyone’s gazes were on him in an instant — Dit’s annoyed, Mathew’s confused, Demurke’s terrified.

“Excuse me?” Dit remarked, sounding offended.

“Jermy, you need to pick your next words very carefully,” ORB advised.

“Thanks, I hear you,” Jermy said dismissively, lifting up from his chair with some force. “Forget the logistics for a moment — they are incredibly flawed, but forget them. Why are we putting Mathew and Joey up to this job, exactly?!” Jermy asked aggressively. “They just got here, while Meowth’s a graduate. Even if he’s outnumbered three to one, that doesn’t mean he’d outmatch us! What if he won, and left the cave not scared enough to be silenced? We’d be toast!”

Joey looked at the pikachu in awe. Yeah… Yeah, he was right. Neither Mathew nor Joey could beat any of the Club if they were truly fighting for their lives. They only made it this far with the help of the entire Club, including Meowth!

Dit didn’t seem so receptive. “Are you suggestin’ that I don’t give this mission to da newbies? Because that means they won’t be helping, and I don’t like workers who don’t help around da place.” Joey could clearly see the implication there.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t give them a mission of some kind!” Jermy retaliated. “But this one is so asinine and risky, I’d hardly give it to you, much less anybody lower than—“

In a flash, the door to Dit’s office swung open. The decidueye outside had clearly been listening. “Jermy, that’s enough!” David briskly approached the pikachu.

“I’m not done here!” Jermy exclaimed.

“Yes, we are.” With his large digits, David easily picked him up.

“Hey! Rrrgh! Put me down right now, David!” Jermy’s protests became quieter as David walked out of the office with him in tow. ORB silently trailed them, nudging the door so it would close behind them.

A wave of silence flooded the room. Joey, Mathew, Demurke, and Dit were all submerged in a tense feeling, each at their own depths. Joey tightened his maw — he didn’t want to waste his breath.

“Sorry about dat.” Dit was the first to break the silence. “The humans we have around here…dey don’t always get how we do things here on Solceus. We can get our wings dirtier than ‘em.” The pidgeot loosened up. “Anywho, are dere any other objections we need to flatten out?”

Joey answered simply. “…No.”

To his side, the cubone shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into Jermy,” Mathew said. “Personally, I’m down for this.”

“Oh?” Dit seemed interested to hear his reasoning.

“I mean, Meowth’s an asshole to everyone, even to people who are nice to him. Somebody needs to go and straighten him out. Someone who fucks with their own patients is someone who deserves his legs broken.”

Dit seemed to take interest in the remark. “Breaking da legs, eh? You’d hafta do some careful framing to do that and get away with it. Geodudes got big fists though, so if you took that club and whacked ‘em with enough force...”

“Yeah, right,” Mathew leaned back, looking more relaxed. “How hard would I have to swing for that?”

“Harder than ya would on Earth, dat’s for sure, but it’s doable. If you really wanna give Meowth something to think about, breaking a bone might be da best you could do, short of killing him. Not that we can…”

Mathew nodded along. “Oran Berries wouldn’t heal that, wouldn’t they?”

“Dey only seal up fur, skin, and scales, and bones are none of the above.”

Every single word out of the two’s mouths sunk a pit deeper into Joey’s chest. He had been acquaintances with Meowth, trying to work together to get what both wanted. Heck, Joey really wanted to call him a friend, too. But helping Mathew and OCEAN was the only shot he had at getting his memories. With the Wormhole Wristlet left to finish, he had to stay by Mathew’s side and help him get what he wanted.

He took a deep breath. He hated this, but he had to do it. So, he said nothing at all.

“Though, I think you could do a lot bettah than that,” Dit continued. The pidgeot fell back and fiddled with something beneath him. “I got a gadget just for this occasion that could mess up Meowth in a whole ‘notha way. Now dat you’re all in…” When he rose, there was something spinning on the tip of his right wing. It slowed, and slowed, and…

“Holy shit,” Mathew muttered. Dit placed it down on the desk and slid it towards the cubone. There, in front of them, was a professionally-made gun, but it lacked any chamber to store bullets. When Mathew picked it up, Joey could tell how lightweight the gun was. “This fires poisonous fumes, doesn’t it?”

“Dat’s right,” Dit said. “I figured the gun’d help you, especially if you made ‘em do something like bargain his silence for a Pecha before he snuffs out. I got a team over in da science division to redo it with bettah stuff, but the type stone is the same one ya picked out.”

“That’s amazing!” Mathew said, fiddling with the weapon in his hands while avoiding the trigger for now. “I bet I could hide this in the Club satchel.”

“And with the rest of dat Club gearing you up, youse should be more than ready to kick some tail. Or, at least a tail that curls at the end,” he said jokingly, waving a wing.

Eagerly, Mathew looked to Joey. “This is perfect, Joey! The Wormhole Wristlet, overclocking it in the Club, and this? We’re going to have a hell of a resume.”

“Uh, yeah,” Joey said. He truly hoped Mathew was right.

“Hey! Rrrgh! Put me down right now, David!”

David wasted no time in carrying Jermy straight out of Dit’s office. As soon as he did, Jermy sprung from his grip and leapt to the floor. When he turned around, he was quickly reminded of his own tiny size — David looked over him, an enraged expression on his face.

“Are you trying to sabotage us, Jermy?!” he exclaimed after the door shut behind them. “Dit just handed us the key to getting Mathew and Joey in!”

Maybe that was true, but Jermy was tired of pretending to be invested in this. “I don’t really care about the recruitment at this point. Do you not see what we’re doing, David? Making big threats, putting our members in situations way out of their league, recruiting way more than we should in the first place… This is exactly what happened last time!”

David buried his face in his wings, letting out a heave, and then brought his wings down firmly. “Jermy, you’re forgetting another part of ‘what happened last time’.”

I’m forgetting?” Jermy had lived through the whole ordeal. What could Jermy have possibly forgotten about it?

“‘Last time’, two of our own betrayed us and tried to destroy everything we’ve been working for,” David reminded him. “If we want to stand even a chance at toppling a god, we have to have unity. Getting at each other’s throats is our free ticket to losing that.”

“I don’t want to repeat the past,” Jermy argued. “I don’t want to abandon OCEAN, and I don’t want to abandon my apprenticeship with you. But I’m tired of sitting here and twiddling my mousey thumbs, acting like everything is okay. If we don’t clean up our act, we’re not even gonna make it to Arceus!”

“Jermy, please.” At that, Jermy witnessed something that the decidueye showed only on the worst of occasions. Out of the grass-type, electricity surged, forming into a ball in David’s hands, ready to be fired from him with the might of a cannon. Though he knew David was merely demonstrating and wouldn’t actually lob it, it was hard to disregard a charge so intense that it could birth a thunderstorm. “Don’t forget what we all trusted each other with. We can’t afford to lose any more of us. Not after Jane, and especially not after General Goodman.”

Jermy stalled for a moment. Anger boiled within him, but David was right — he was needed here, badly. If he pushed any further, OCEAN was going to crack and split once more, and that was the last thing anybody needed. He looked to ORB, standing at the side, seeking his perspective.

“I’ve calculated the odds,” ORB said. “This is a fight you can’t win, Jermy.”

Jermy sighed. “Fine. I’ll go along with this.” Right as David’s electricity dissipated, his spunk came back to him. “But!”

He paused for a second, wondering if he should do this…then promptly decided it was worth it. Jermy tapped into something deep within himself, a gift that he had let remain dormant for much of his time wielding it. After a second, he brought it forth, and summoned grass-type energy — energy so immense Jermy knew he could make a flowerbed bloom in a matter of seconds. If he unleashed it, a flare of energy would burst forth, wrecking everything in its path.

He never liked demonstrating that he possessed it, but, after spending so long as a meek little pikachu, he could feel an overwhelming sense of power. “Don’t forget that you’re not the only one who can show off like that.”

David gasped at the display…but something in his demeanor changed. Rather than hem and haw about Jermy’s divisiveness, he closed his eyes, brought a wing-hand to his beak, and hummed. “Fair enough, Jermy. Fair enough.”
 
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Chapter 17

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 17: Journey into Misery
For the past weekend, Meowth had been chewing on two things. First, his morning bread; second, the number of discomforting discoveries he had been making recently.

At first, he had been fully on-board with interrogating and investigating his way to the answers he wanted. Mr. Persian, in approaching him after those years of silence, had opened those floodgates for him. As far as he should be concerned, his pursuits were going very well. Meowth had found that there were secrets to be uncovered in almost everyone he was surrounded by. That was supposed to be a good thing. It meant that he was right!

But Meowth hadn’t anticipated how it would feel to uncover that reality. He had snuck into his father’s office and put his livelihood at stake, all for something he now realized he didn’t understand. It was disconcerting.

Meowth had thought the answer was going to be simple and petty — a motivation he could throw in his father’s face and say “I knew it!” But now he was facing a completely new situation. Humans, threat levels, contracts of familial uninvolvement… The nature of Mr. Persian’s superiors still completely eluded him. He still wasn’t even sure where he fit into this picture, much less Minichino, Politoed, or Breloom.

To be frank, all of it had planted a seed of doubt in Meowth’s mind. Should he really be doing this? There was so much more on the line now. This company, SEAS, was clearly more dangerous than he had initially realized. His father had signed something to push him away, but how safe would that really keep him if he took the offensive?

All this had been a driving reason he had been keeping a low profile over the weekend. The most he had done in the wake of this mysterious Misery Cave expedition was try poking at the prospect of bettering his relationship with Mathew.

As Mathew, Joey, and Jermy were talking strategy in the living room and he was standing in the kitchen, Meowth was fairly sure he was going to stay in that position…that was, until he decided to check the mailbox in his front yard to see if there were any deliveries he had missed yesterday. There was some useless junk that had arrived the previous Sunday, as well as some notes regarding his condo’s expenses, but only one had grabbed his attention.

It was addressed from Kalmwa’er Resort.

Instantly, Meowth tore the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside.

Dear Meowth II of Kalmwa’er,

To kick off the fourth week of its operation, the Management Staff of the Pick-it Up Club would like to formally acknowledge and appreciate the Club’s hardest and strongest workers. We are pleased to remind you that you are an exceptional component to the Club’s survival and success!


…Huh? Meowth was already taken aback by this strange letter from…the management staff? That was just his father, wasn’t it? The only other people who fit that bill were Minichino and Demurke, and neither of them would send a letter calling him exceptional. They all knew how little he cared about the work they did here. Curious, he read on.

As part of this acknowledgement, the Management Staff is also pleased to provide commentary on its perspective of work-life balance. The Pick-it Up Club values the well-being of both the environment and of the people who live in it. Thus, our workers are encouraged to take the time needed away from the position to rest and recover, so that they can give it their all when they return.

What time off could Club workers possibly need? This was a part time job. They started early in the morning and were done by noon. Sure, there was the occasional fight to be had, but with the supplies of his medical kit, that was nothing to be concerned about. Meowth would hardly call it ‘high-maintenance’ to the point of needing extra time off.

It should be noted that our employment contract ensures that employees are permitted at least one vacation day each month. You are highly encouraged to take advantage of this day before the end of the month! It would make you feel much happier, and allow you to continue working with us.

We thank you for your time and consideration.

With love,

The Management Staff of the Pick-it Up Club


…Oh.

Meowth wasn’t sure if Mr. Persian could have made this message any more obvious than he did in the back end of this semi-formal letter. Just reading it, he could picture that fake grin his father would’ve putting on while saying it allowed.

Don’t come to work today. That’s what he was telling Meowth, loud and clear.

“Meowth!” Jermy had pulled open the front door and called out to him. He must have noticed that he quietly slipped out. “We’re all about ready to go. How about you?”

Meowth turned towards the pikachu, and, for only a second, paused. He thought about the message in his paw, and what it meant…and suddenly, he felt invigorated all over again. Once more, the scent of a rat came come to his nostrils — there was something his father didn’t want him to see when the rest of the Club went to Misery Cave.

There were dangers to be had, sure. But now Meowth remembered the reason he was here. He couldn’t corner his father like he thought, but he could still discover the motives behind what he was doing. And that was something Meowth refused to pass up.

He lowered the paw holding both the envelope and the letter to his side, carefully pointing the text away from Jermy. “Yeah. Just let me get my kit.”

Today was the day, and Mathew could hardly wait.

The Club had gathered early in the morning in the Resort lobby, waiting for Mr. Persian and Demurke to arrive. Since their trip today was supposed to be higher stakes and very relevant to their performance, David had apparently canceled their Waregle training for the day. Mathew would’ve more than appreciated the warmup, but at this point, he felt ready enough that he didn’t mind too much.

The wait for them was almost agonizing. The cubone was nervous, yes, but there was so much to be excited for! This incredibly busy week was about to pay off in spades. If he did this, succeeded, and then finished the Wormhole Wristlet, they were completely set. Mathew would get the comfier OCEAN position; Joey would get his memories back without him having to say a word; and Meowth would get the hell out of his life.

It was perfect. He was so close to getting everything he wanted.

Soon enough, a certain murkrow wandered into the lobby, carrying eight satchels in her wings…but no cream-colored cat.

Politoed was the first to point it out. “Where’s Mr. Persian?” He sprung up from the beanbag chair.

“Um… Mr. Persian i-isn’t gonna make it today,” Demurke explained. “He needed some…time away this m-morning. So he told me to share the p-plans!”

“Of course he isn’t,” Meowth mumbled, because, Mathew figured, he had nothing else productive to say.

Minichino, on the other hand, looked more concerned as she rose. “Oh… Okay.” She approached Demurke, reaching for the satchels, but the murkrow stopped her.

“I-I got it!” she declared, getting her to back away. The Murkrow promptly turned to Mathew and offered him one of the satchels. “H-Here,” she said gently. When Mathew took it, it was heavier than usual. Mathew could tell there were two things hidden inside. The first was a pair of dark-type goggles that would prevent Hypnosis from affecting him. David had issued for some to be sent to him after their meeting with Dit. The second…

The gun.

One by one, Demurke handed out each satchel to the rest, trying to make the handoff look innocuous. Joey and Jermy were next, of course, since both of them were also receiving a pair of goggles, but Demurke had no set order for the ones receiving empty satchels. However, when she made it to Politoed and Breloom, she paused, peering down at another brown bag next to Breloom’s chair. “What’s in that b-bag?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, we were gonna show these off after Per got here,” Breloom remarked. She reached down into a bag and pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment. “Poli and I grabbed a few things to help us out, like this map of the cave.”

“W-woah, that’s…really useful!” Demurke jumped up onto one of the chairs and peered over Breloom’s shoulder, getting a look at the map in her claws.

“Not the only thing we brought with us!” Politoed reached in and grabbed three more objects: a pair of strange-looking sticks and a red glass ball with yellow spots and the symbol of a white, spiked snowflake in its center. Two wands and a wonder orb, if Mathew’s memory of Jermy and Demurke’s lecture on them was right. “First come, first serve. Whoever takes one’s responsible for using them to help everyone else.”

Minichino’s eyes lit up. “A Tunnel Wand! Politoed, you’re a genius!” She reached for a stick shaped like a pickaxe with only one sharp end.

“Don’t thank me,” he said as he passed it off to her. “Thank the Kalmwa’er Service Guild. Got some family that works for them, so I could call in a favor.”

“So you came up to them, asked them for help…and they just handed you their map of the dungeon and a set of items?” Meowth asked, still primed to bite the hand that fed him like the brat he was.

Politoed shrugged. “Guess they were in a good mood yesterday.” He raised up the remaining wand and orb. “Gonna hand off one of these and keep the other for myself. Any takers?”

Mathew examined both objects, but only one of them really caught Mathew’s eye. It was a bright blue stick whose shape was jagged and uneven. Two strange, azure-colored leaves sprouted from its side. Its end pointed straight forward, and the part in Politoed’s hand was round and easy to grip. “What’s that?” Mathew inquired.

“Whirlwind Wand,” Politoed explained. “Wave it at somebody and it’ll send a gust of wind that launches them way back. Would be good for keeping distance.”

Distance might be just what he needed against Meowth. “Dibs,” Mathew said promptly. He raised the hand clutching his club and loosened his grip so he could take the other weapon.

“You got it.” Politoed tossed the wand Mathew’s way. It met with his hand, but he failed to clutch it, causing it to hit the carpet below.

“Woah!” Minichino leapt to his aid, as if to rescue him. She picked up the Whirlwind Wand and properly offered it to him. “Be careful with this. You don’t want it to break.”

“Alright,” Mathew said. Seeing that he couldn’t carry both at once, he took the wand and gently set it in his satchel for now. Now, not only did he have three weapons to use, but the wand staying in his satchel would hide the gun even better.

“And that leaves me with the All Power-Up Orb,” Politoed said as he added the Wonder Orb to his own satchel. “Dunno if we really need it, but I’ll keep it if we’re in a pinch.”

“It’s really great that y-you brought all this!” Demurke said, leaping down from the chair. “We m-might need these, since n-not all of us…will have Meowth’s kit s-so close.”

“What’s that mean?” Meowth asked in an accusatory tone.

Demurke turned to Meowth. “It’s b-because of…the plan Mr. P-Persian has. Could I have the m-map? That’ll…help.” Breloom gave it to her, and she planted it down on the floor. As if they were in a war meeting, they all gathered closely around her. Her wing fell on the cave entrance. “When we get there, we’re gonna l-leave the buggy as close to the entrance as we can. Mr. Persian and I p-put a bunch of extra satchels in the floor, so once we g-get a couple filled, we can come back to the buggy to leave them there and get f-fresh ones. We should start out as…deep as we can m-make it into the cave so we won’t…have to walk as much later on.”

ORB studied the map. “Misery Cave has two levels and two floors. Even with dozens of satchels, the area you will all need to cover is vast.”

Demurke quickly sprung off of him. “That’s why Mr. Persian wants us to…divide and conquer.” She moved her wing to the first floor. “Mathew, Joey, Jermy, and Meowth need to make their way through the lower level.” Then, it went to the second. “Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, and I will…work on the upper level.”

“Interesting spread,” Politoed said. “Mr. Persian got a reason for those choices?”

Demurke nodded. “Mhm. Mr. Persian wanted Mathew and Joey to stick with Jermy for business reasons, and Meowth so they c-could get to his…medical kit easily. E-everyone else needs to go on the upper floor because th-that’s where the…geodudes are supposed to be.” Her expression became more intense. “Mr. Persian said that it was really important that we stick with our groups. If those guys catch us by surprise, somebody…might get hurt.”

“We hear you loud and clear!” Minichino exclaimed. “We’ll stay safe out there, no problem.”

“Good!” she exclaimed. “In that case, are we…g-good to go?” The question was aimed at everyone, but she was looking to two people in particular. “Jermy? Joey?”

Jermy was despondent, until ORB nudged him. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s frolick in this filth!” he exclaimed. Mathew knew why Jermy was acting so odd — it seemed like he didn’t think they could do it. Mathew could prove him wrong, he was sure of it.

Joey, though…he had been quiet since their meeting with Dit. He wasn’t really sure why. It was probably the pressure getting to him, if Mathew had to guess. The totodile got to his feet. “I reckon we’re ready.”

“Yeah, sounds like it, Joe.” Breloom made for the front door. “Dem, pass me the keys. I’ll drive.”

Mathew had no objections.

As the buggy cruised down Asulaguah Beach, the air around them was tense. Joey wasn’t sure if all of them had noticed, chatting away casually like nothing was wrong, but he certainly did. Right now, in this buggy, half of the people here were preparing to jump Meowth. The other half was completely oblivious.

Joey’s feet shuffled around, pushing the empty satchels on the floor of the buggy. He was settled in the back row, on the left end. To his right was Meowth, and past him, Demurke. The cat was flanked on both sides. Mathew was right in front of him. It was probably for the best that the cubone was on a different row; it made it real tough for Meowth to see what was inside his satchel. Joey, of course, already knew.

On its left, the buggy approached a cracked rock that was more than familiar.

“You guys don’t happen to see our old friends over there, do you?” Breloom asked them all. Unlike the incident that cracked that rock six days ago, she was driving slow enough for the whole group to hear. Everyone’s eyes were on the rock as it passed by.

“Nope. No sign of that barbaracle,” Jermy, in the center of the buggy, remarked. Joey couldn’t make anything out, either.

“Really, we should be thankful,” Minichino commented. “The last thing we need is another dungeon pokémon on our backs!”

Joey supposed Minichino was right. Still, for a brief moment, he wished that that dungeon pokémon was there, that it had gotten in the buggy’s way and maybe even prevented them from reaching Misery Cave entirely. Then maybe he would stop feeling so miserable, going along with this.

He wished that there had been some landmark around where he had first woken up on this beach seven days ago, or where he had found Mathew in Pawalmtry Forest just next door. If he had known then that awakening Mathew would lead to this endless cycle of investigating him and appeasing him…that it would lead to this chaotic, messy double-life that was difficult to keep up with…that it would lead to this…would he have still woken him up?

“Joey. Are you okay?”

The crocodile lurched in his seat. “Yeah, I’m right as rain,” he remarked, trying to cover himself. It amazed him how Meowth could read his contemplation so easily off of his face. “What about you?”

For a second, Meowth looked off. “I’ve been thinking about this mission a lot.” He didn’t make it clear, but from his tone, Joey could just tell — Meowth could feel the tension, too.

Joey could tell him where the tension was coming from. It’d only take a couple words to — no, no! He couldn’t do that! There were a dozen reasons he couldn’t. Joey had to keep building trust. He had to keep working for OCEAN. It was the only path to his memories. Meowth knew all about that from their ride on the gondola. He would understand, right?

No, that wasn’t what he should be asking. Meowth…would forgive him, right?

That was the question that was swirling in Joey’s head when they arrived at the entrance to Misery Cave.

The first thing that caught the totodile off-guard was the sheer height of the cave. As Pawalmtry Forest came to an end and opened into a grassy field, a weathered rock wall grew taller and taller, and the sand bumpier and bumper, until a massive opening made itself known. From it came the mouth of a river — Arbor River, according to Politoed and Breloom’s map — spilling out into the ocean like drool from the mouth of a beast. As the buggy came closer, Joey could get a better look at the interior. The ceiling was hollowed out, with openings to the plains above allowing light to flood into the part of the cave protecting the river.

Given how erosion caused by rain and river water slowly displaces rock and dirt over time, giving shape to new landscapes and altering the kind of life that can thrive in it, Joey figured that Misery Cave would one day become Misery Canyon.

…Joey blinked. Where had that come from? Another highly specific piece of knowledge he had nothing with which to ground… Did this have to do with that monologue that came to mind, right as he first came to? Why was it that this was what he could recite?

He wondered if, after the dust settled here, Joey would finally have an answer.

Breloom could only get so close to the cave with the buggy — the ground was becoming more rock than sand, and the more time they spent on it, the greater the chance they’d drive over one sharp enough to puncture tires. “Is this good enough?” she asked Demurke as she parked it.

“Yeah…th-that should be fine!” Demurke responded.

“Uh, now that we got here, question,” Mathew said, rolling his club in his hands. “All of the other dungeons have had these really funky names. Why is this one so…normal?”

“Think this one was probably named before Kalmwa’er was founded,” Politoed explained, twisting his head from the shotgun seat to look at Mathew. “Arbor River was mapped out more than two thousand years ago, while Kalmwa’er’s not that old. Probably had a different name before it was translated into the speech we use today.”

“Enough with the chit-chat, guys!” Minichino said, leaping from her seat without a second thought. “Let’s get this party started.”

Politoed and Breloom, at the front of the buggy, were quick to follow her, but the five in the back, not so much. Him, Mathew, Meowth, Jermy, Demurke…it was like there was a weight holding all of them down. Eventually, Demurke flew forward to lead Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, and then it was just the four of them, padding their way through the rocks towards the cave.

Joey took one last look at the ocean before they went in. It wasn’t as comforting as he wished it was. Then, he forged ahead with the others.

He just wanted to get this over with.

As Jermy led Meowth and the humans who would soon fight him down Misery Cave, following along the river whose flow roared against the cavern walls, a mixture of feelings swirled through the pikachu’s head. On one end, the image of him yesterday, facing down David and trying to match him on equal footing, was still giving Jermy an incredible rush. He had long since suppressed those abilities because of their source, but the way flashing them had made David rethink…the catharsis would linger in his head for a long, long time.

One the other end, though he had won a small battle with David, Dit had utterly crushed him. His voice had fallen on deaf ears, in favor of perpetuating a boneheaded plan for the sake of ‘loyalty building.’ Jermy had no competence in the skill of developing such relationships, and even he could see into the pidgeot’s blind spot. Not that anybody noticed or cared — he was just David’s assistant, having a fit. Blast, that was demeaning…

Still, it wasn’t like Jermy could just run off from his position. The level of chaos such a thing would cause OCEAN was indeed immaculate, as David had pointed out. And besides, if he did try to bail from the organization, where would he go? The portals back to Earth were well-monitored and maintained, so escaping back there would be impossible.

Meanwhile, besides OCEAN’s mission, Jermy had no place in this world. He was merely a passing Earthling in a distant land, only familiar with it through study and distant observation. He hardly ever got time outside of OCEAN property — Kalmwa’er had really been his first glimpse into what normal living was like for these people.

Jermy was stuck. And so, for now, he would continue to follow along, as much as it miffed him.

At Jermy and Demurke’s lead, the Club approached the fork in the road. The ceiling of the cave hung low to the river’s surface, so low that it’d be unsafe to crawl into the water and follow it directly. Instead, two small openings, likely burrowed by cave dwellers ages ago, split off from the river on each end. The one on the left veered off as a straight side path, while the one on the right inclined upwards.

“Here…w-we are,” Demurke said. “We sh-should be going over here.” She gestured to Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, before leaping up and gliding to the other side, careful not to bump her head. The three had no problem following her across the river. Politoed, as a water type, had a natural affinity for swimming; Breloom had clearly learned from the best; and Minichino knew how to put the effort in, taking full advantage where it was shallow enough to stand and pushing hard where it wasn’t. Soon enough, the water had made its rift.

Jermy exchanged one last knowing look to the murkrow. “Alright, guys, this way!” The two of them began to lead each party to its fate.

The tightly cramped side path strayed from the holes in the roof of the cave, bringing them away from the sun’s light. It would have been deathly dark…if it weren’t for a line of torches adorning the walls. Jermy found this quite peculiar. Who on Solceus came all the way out here and lit these? Surely it wasn’t the dungeon pokémon. Regardless, it gave Jermy an idea.

“Hey, Mathew.” Jermy stopped the group to point at one of the torches. “You should snatch some light off of one of these!” The pikachu’s voice reverberated off of the close walls.

The cubone paused, looking between the pikachu and the torch. “What?”

Jermy lightly smacked himself. “Right, we didn’t make it to that part of the lectures… Depending on what evolution you end up taking, that club of yours might be able to hold on to fire without any burn marks! I was gonna get you to try it in private, but hey, this works too. Just hold it up — can’t bust up that club much either way.”

Mathew tested it, reaching up and dipping the blunt end of his club into the torch, and sure enough, the fire clung to it, turning it into a makeshift torch itself. “Huh…” Mathew seemed surprised and impressed.

“Interesting,” Meowth remarked. “I didn’t know that about cubone.”

Joey looked up towards the ceiling. “Ain’t all these torches supposed to be creating more smoke than a cigar in a cartoon in here?”

“Not how it works,” Jermy mumbled, just ignoring Meowth’s confused expression. “Hold that torch close to the floor, Mathew — we’re supposed to wait to grab trash until the end, but hey, all the surveying we get helps, right?”

With that, the four of them moved along, their steps against the hard rock floor echoing throughout the cavern path. Indeed, there were several pieces of trash here and there — paper wrapping was crumpled up and stuffed into a corner, while tiny bowls and bottles lay around, too dirty to properly use. From time to time, Joey would pick something up, prompting the others to do the same out of courtesy. But they had a plan to stick to: get to the end first.

Get to the right place to bludgeon Meowth first.

Their destination came upon them soon enough. The burrow opened up into a wide area filled with the mighty roar of Arbor River flowing above them. There was only darkness here — besides the glow of their eyes, ORB’s frontal glass, the fire along the walls, and the light of Mathew’s club, inky blackness awaited on all sides. A walkway had been formed by past spelunkers to guide them, where the rock was smooth and easy to follow. When Mathew put his torch up to the sides of the path, he could see sharp stalagmites shooting up from the ground, walling them off.

“Jesus, no wonder we’ve never tried cleaning this place…” Mathew mumbled, planting his free hand against a rock wall. There was a fork in the road, divided by this wall. The side of the wall towards the left path had a sconce filled with a torch; the sconce towards the right was completely empty.

“I reckon we should probably go left.” Joey squatted down and squinted at the ground. When he came back up, he had found a plastic fork.

With no objections, they drifted that direction. Although, as they moved, Jermy couldn’t help but ponder why only one path had alight torches. Surely the dungeon pokémon wouldn’t mind them…had somebody come and snuffed them out?

That was when he heard it. Past their footsteps and the rushing water, there was another sound bounding through the cavern. Some kind of…shuffling?

Jermy put himself in front and, with a gesture, got the others to line up behind him. If this was some kind of threat to their goals here, it would be his job to get it out of the way. With Mathew and ORB’s guidance, Jermy prowled forward like a mouse hunting its cheese. Steady…steady…around the bend…and—

Grooooar!

“Waaaah!” Jermy stumbled back in panic as he almost smacked face-to-face into the pokémon turning the sharp corner. “Back! Back!” he shouted, just short of firing off an electric attack when he realized they had jumped back as well. The pokémon’s own torch clattered to the ground, slipping out of their…wing? No, Jermy realized, this one wasn’t able to growl at all — merely imitate it.

Behind him, Jermy heard Meowth’s recognition. “...Chip?”

A blue-ish blob, made muddy by the deep shadows, tended to the headphone-carrying chatot. “Chip! Ya good?!”

“I’m fine, sire…” Chip mumbled, getting to his feet… then promptly giving the…whoever this was a pat on the back. “But thanks for making sure,” he added sincerely.

Meowth pushed up in line, joining Jermy. “What are you two doing here?”

“I think we could say the same to you,” he remarked, giving Meowth and Jermy a stern glare as he picked up his torch. “Misery Cave’s not the kind of place you should just walk into! If we weren’t here lighting the place, you wouldn’t be able to even see your paws!”

“Yeah!” the figure, which Jermy was going to take a shot in the dark and call a poliwhirl, chimed in. “These here stalagmites could come down and crush any one of ya! Or worse, block the exits!”

“Aren’t they stalactites?” Jermy pointed out.

“They’re stalactites, Poliwrath,” Meowth agreed. “The ones next to us are stalagmites.”

The poliwhirl tensed his fists, wrapped with some kind of orange sports tape. “Potayto, potahto! Who’s got time to keep track of them names anyway?!”

“Well,” Chip chimed in. “There was the little phrase from Dungeoneering class. ‘C’ for ceiling—”

“—’G’ for ground,” Meowth finished.

Chip turned to him, impressed. “So you at least remember that…”

“Point still stands!” Poliwrath remarked. “If ya didn’t tell anyone where yer going, ya’d start running into real problems real fast! We’d hafta get the rest of the ol’ Service Guild to come and help save you, and that’s assuming we notice ya missing.”

Jermy took a moment to glance behind him. Mathew and Joey had taken a step or two back. Mathew had a distraught glare, and Joey… That wasn’t an expression of relief, was it?

Regardless, it seemed like they were catching on to the problem he was seeing, too — there was no way they could fulfill the plan with these two Service Guild members out and about. How were they supposed to make sure that the officers not only left without suspicion, but stayed away far enough that they wouldn’t notice when things get dicey? Mathew and Joey needed to fight Meowth…

…but he didn’t.

The thought was ironic. Before, he was voicing that the three of them together lacked the experience to do this, and now the two of them were going to have to do this without him. The pikachu would have to misdirect Poliwrath and Chip.

“You know, there actually are a couple of people you could check up on to make sure you don’t have to save them,” Jermy said. “A couple of our buddies are on the other side of the cave, going around and cleaning up!”

“Cleaning up…” Recollection filled Chip’s eyes as he looked to Jermy, then Meowth. “Oh, you’re with the Club! Sire, that means…”

“Eh, ain’t that surprising he’d go along with some crazy ol’ stunt like this.” Poliwrath crossed his arms, playing with one of the loosened straps on his left wrist. “Sure, I could go pay Politoed a visit.”

“Cool! I could show you how to get to them, if you wanted.”

Meowth raised a brow. “Are you sure?” he seemed both curious and a tad confused.

ORB came to Jermy’s rescue. “If there’s anybody in this cave who’s expendable enough to join late to the cleanup, it’s Jermy,” he advised.

Chip shrugged. “Why don’t you lead the way then, uh…?”

Jermy offered a hand to shake, as if nothing was wrong. “Jermy!”

“Alright, let’s make this quick!” Poliwrath pointed at the other three. “If y’all are set on going down there, well…try not to get your heads chopped off.” He eyed Meowth, then Mathew. “Or chop off each other’s heads! Heheheh!”

“Sure.” Meowth met him with a glare made ominous by the flickering light.

The two of them quickly split up — Mathew, Joey, and Meowth continued down the path, while Jermy, ORB, Poliwrath, and Chip turned back. As the pikachu led them along, that miffed feeling returned to him. This was going to end badly, that he was certain of…but stopping this madness was out of the picture.

When Jermy got to the fork, he pointed towards the path that was unlit. “They went this way,” he lied.

“They went into the dark?!” Chip seemed shocked and concerned all at once. He pushed to the front, illuminating the way down the side path.

Poliwrath simply rolled his arm. “I swear, that boldness’ gonna be the end of ‘em one of these days.”

And so they pushed further into the dark, far away from anybody else.

It was just the three of them, now.

In the shadows, Joey hoped that the sunkenness of his expression was hidden from Mathew and Meowth. The moment they were anticipating was close — the crocodile could feel it, especially now that they had arrived at what seemed to be the back of the path. It had opened up into a flat, wide space, with the occasional sharp rock here and there to prod at their soles. Piles and piles of trash had been built up all around them — the handiwork of those geodudes — illuminated by the torches those two had hung up along the walls. It’d be easy for them to follow along the torches, but the center of the room was only lit by Mathew’s club.

“Alright,” the reptile said. “While we wait for Jermy to get back, we should probably handle what we can.” Mathew pointed towards a particularly large pile towards the middle of the room. “That one’s probably gonna take two of us to even make a dent in.”

Joey wasn’t really sure why Mathew had drawn attention to that pile, until he gave him a glare that said a thousand words. They needed a distraction — something to keep Meowth busy so he wouldn’t notice them preparing to strike. “I reckon I could help with that,” he remarked. “What about you, Meowth?”

Meowth looked to Joey, almost studying him…then shrugged. “Sure.”

“I’ll start us on that one over there.” Mathew gestured to the smaller pile just to the right. “We should make this quick — there’s so much garbage here, it smells. Goddamn…”

In response, Joey took a deeper whiff of the air and instantly regretted it. He wasn’t sure if he should be more worried by the smell itself, or the fact that his mind was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice it until Mathew pointed it out.

He and Meowth both sat down at the base of the pile, idly raking in trash and stuffing it into their satchels. Joey couldn’t help but notice that the cat had left his emergency kit at the bottom of his. In a few seconds’ time, it was buried beneath.

Joey peered to his right, past Meowth. He couldn’t see Mathew — only the edges of the light his torch of a club was illuminating. On the other side of this pile, he must be readying himself. As the one next to Meowth, it was Joey’s job to make an opening for him.

The crocodile took a deep breath. “How are you now?”

A bit stunned, Meowth looked to him. “Huh?”

“You said you were thinking a whole lot about all this. Now that you’re here…is it any better?”

“Oh.” Meowth relaxed, scooping up another part of the pile while staying fixated on Joey. “Not really. There’s something about all this that’s weird. I’m trying to figure it out.”

Everything in Joey’s body focused on keeping eye contact with the cat. Behind him, Mathew was there now, tiptoeing, saying nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see him carrying the poison gun. He was wearing the goggles now, obscuring his eyes. Even carrying the light, Mathew’s expression was covered in layers of darkness. Joey could picture Meowth’s unnerved expression, if he turned around and saw this. “I reckon…it’s nothing,” he suggested calmly.

“Maybe.” Meowth closed his eyes and brought his head down a bit. Mathew flinched and leaned back…but the cat’s expression returned to Joey. “What about you? It seemed like something was distracting you.”

Mathew took one step. Another. He was close to Meowth now. Any closer and Meowth would notice the torchlight — his next move would have to come in one swift motion.

“Yeah…” he mumbled. “I’m just thinking about…” Joey imagined Meowth laying in front of him, passed out, face scratched from hitting the rocks too hard—

And that was when his conscience kicked in.

What were they doing?! Everything about this situation was ridiculous and cruel! Meowth didn’t deserve any of this! So why had he been…why was he just going along with it, wasting his time feeling all mopey?!

No. He couldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t.

Behind Meowth, Mathew sprung forward and swung down.

Joey cried out.

Meowth, behind you!

SMACK.
 
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Chapter 18

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 18: United We Fall
Shhhhhink.

Meowth’s arms trembled, desperately trying to keep steady the haphazard cross shape he had formed with them. Slowly, Mathew’s club slid against his claws, trying and failing to force its way to his head. It took a second for his eyes to adjust — the swing down had put the flame out, and now both of them were coated in the dark.

Meowth pulled his glance back and upwards. Mathew was equipped with some goggles over his eyes that wrapped tightly around his mask, like the ones Poliwrath and Chip had been wearing when they feared his Hypnosis. Mathew looked stunned, but frustrated and desperate. He clearly wanted that first strike to land.

Before Mathew swung, Meowth had noticed the club’s light out of the corner of his eye, and the sound of steps right behind him, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. The only reason he reacted in time was because of Joey.

In a swift movement, Meowth pivoted from his rear to his feet, pushing Mathew and his club backward as he fully turned to face him. The cubone stumbled back. “What the hell, Joey?!” he cried. “I almost had him!”

“Mathew, we ain’t going through with this,” Joey said, putting himself in front of Meowth. “It’s wrong!”

Meowth was stunned. Joey was in on whatever this was…? “What are you trying to do here?” he asked both of them.

“This whole day’s been one big setup,” Joey explained. “Our bosses wanted us to beat you up, so you’d stay out of our business!”

Suddenly, a dozen oddities all clicked into place. Why he’d been so arbitrarily split up from the other Club members…why they needed to go to the back of the cave first…why Jermy had run off with Poliwrath and Chip…all of it, to isolate him, so SEAS could punish him. He should’ve known that photo-taking scheme was too easy.

He looked ahead to Mathew, dimly lit by the surrounding torches. The darkness of the cave and his goggles couldn’t hide those eyes. Through them, he saw Mathew’s seething contempt. Even while regaining his bearings, he was clenching his club far too tightly in his hand. “Joey, get out of the way.”

This is what Mr. Persian had tried to warn him about.

In between him and Mathew, Joey looked fierce. “No,” he stated with firmness. “This ain’t the way to go about your anger with Meowth. I’ve put up with more crazy talk than a cricket in a crowd, but this whole plan’s where I draw the line.”

SEAS is just asking too much of me, Joey was probably thinking.

“So you can’t stand yourself letting Mathew stoop so low?” Meowth asked for clarification.

Joey peered at him with confusion. “I can’t stand me letting you get hurt,” he said, as if it was evident.

…Huh. So Joey wasn’t thinking about the job, so much as he was thinking about…him? A strange, foreign feeling filled Meowth. Flattery, maybe?

Mathew’s head drooped down, seeming betrayed…then lifted with a cold malice. “Joey, you and I both know there’s no way out of this. It’s the only way we’re getting any kind of peace!”

“Is this your idea of peace?!” Joey gestured to the whole cave. “It ain’t mine! If you really wanted peace, we could just tell OCEAN to go employ someone else and stay in Kalmwa’er!”

Mathew groaned, putting a hand to his mask. “Damnit, I know your dad would’ve told you about this if you just remembered…! Joey, even if we didn’t want to go through with this, we can’t back out now. You should know what happens to traitors.” The cubone didn’t have it in him to finish the thought, but as far as Meowth was concerned, he didn’t need to.

They’re killed.

His own father…was he faced with a bind like this, too?

For a moment, Joey stood there, stunned. When he recollected himself, Meowth had never seen him look more jaded. “Oh, so now you tell me something new about Dad? Only when I try telling you to stop acting like a loon?”

“Joey, I’ve been trying—”

“No, you ain’t.” His words cut through the cave more sharply than any blade.

Beneath the goggles, Mathew’s expression sunk in betrayal. “Fine.” The cubone backed up and grabbed…some kind of strange object the cat didn’t recognize. What even was that…? Based on its design, Meowth could only assume it fired something small. “Have it your way.”

“Joey,” he said, stepping in. The totodile turned to him, a little shocked. “Thank you. But I don’t think you’re talking us out of this.” If Mathew’s situation did match Mr. Persian’s, that meant that the cubone had willingly walked down the same path as him. Meowth refused to let that fly.

“Meowth…” Joey looked at him worriedly for a moment, before relenting, backing up towards the trash mound.

Mathew nodded. “Well, even if they didn’t need us to do this, I still wanna kick your ass!” he barked, stepping in to swing once again. “Consider it some goddamned payback.”

“Joey, if you really want to help, get my medical kit and back me up.” Meowth brandished his claws, ready for this.

He should’ve known keeping his license was a pipe dream.

“Well, if Politoed wanted to go deep, he certainly succeeded…”

If Jermy had gone back in time and asked his younger self, sitting in that science fair moments before his life changed course, what was on his bucket list of things he’d want his dream job to give him, ‘an opportunity to deceive the police’ would not have been on it. Listening to Chip and Poliwrath grumble about it taking too long to find the rest of the Club members on this dark path, the pikachu could only think about what Mathew and Joey were doing at the moment.

By now, Meowth had probably already been threatened — and struck, if he hadn’t complied to OCEAN’s demands to stay away and stay silent. Knowing their luck, he would probably escape the pair’s inexperienced clutches, find Minichino and the others before they deal with them, and flip everything around, exactly as he predicted. After that, they’d all be in dire straits. Poliwrath and Chip would figure everything out, and they’d be arrested.

What a waste of a bucket list item. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time. ‘Getting to receive the news that your sister was declared dead’ was a waste, too. And ‘getting to be endlessly bullied by your boss’. And—

“Jermy,” ORB said. “Keep your eyes on the road if you’re going to stomp around.”

He was brought back into the moment. Jermy had shifted to trailing behind the Service Guild members as they continued, making up directions whenever there was a split, or a fork, or rough terrain blocking their way forward. That way, they wouldn’t be able to make any guesses about whether he was telling the truth.

“Sorry,” Jermy mumbled to his machine. “It’s been a rotten morning.”

That prompted Poliwrath to peer back. “What’s got ya so down, huh?” he asked.

“Oh! Um…” He fought for a half-truth. “Just not an easy job today. I mean, Misery Cave?”

“Not exactly the safest of places,” Chip concurred. “What kind of crazy boss do you have to be to send untrained pokémon here?”

“Probably a real loon! Ehehehe!” Poliwrath chuckled.

Chip shot Poliwrath a glare. “I was referring to our client, sire…”

“No, no, he’s right,” Jermy said. “It’s a whole different type of crazy.”

And so was he. Jermy was going through with this, after all, despite his objections and complaints and worries. He was helping the organization assault somebody even if he didn’t like it. The pikachu was playing a role in a war he’d lost hope in a long time ago.

Jane had been right. Why did he stay here and let them drag him into this?

Rrgh, why did he even ask that question?! He knew the answer! It was because, once upon a time, he hadn’t been a part of this. Jermy had just been a person who loved science and math and had no concept of living as the yellow rodent mascot of an international media brand. Jermy had worked under Emmons Labs where his bright-hearted boss put them to task on making Earth a better place. That wasn’t what this organization was now, but Jermy still held onto that hope that, after this nightmare was over, he could have his old job back, where there was no pressure other than the path to scientific discovery, where David believed in his ability to act on his own, where his coworkers respected him and helped—

OCEAN will never be the place you want it to be again. You have to find another way.



Jermy stopped walking.

What?

Where…had that come from? That was something he had thought just then, right? Then why…

Poliwrath and Chip were both giving him weird looks. “You good back there?!” Poliwrath asked.

“...I need to sit down for a second.” Jermy stepped back, and slid down the stalagmite until his rear reached the cold, hard stone. The satchel weighing him down fell out of his grip.

“S-sir!” Chip panicked, flapping over to him as he sat, hand against his head. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m thinking.” Jermy tried to wave him off, trying to make sense of this sudden confliction.

ORB pushed up against his side. “Scans indicate unusual signs of disturbance and confusion.”

The chatot buried his face in his wings. “Gah, what a terrible time to not bring our emergency supplies…!”

“Chip! We still gotta do somethin’!” Poliwrath said firmly, bringing a torch up close to the two of them. “Surely we know how to calm down a lil’ freakout…”

Chip mused for a moment…then his expression brightened, and he brought his wings to his neck. “Take this,” he said, pulling off his headphones. He pried the nigh-invisible music player off of his body and fiddled with it. “If it’s thinking that’s got you like this, maybe some background noise will help you work through it?” Chip offered it to him.

Jermy nodded, taking the headphones and awkwardly pressing them against his mousey ears. A quiet, calm, steady beat filled his ears, built from percussive instruments he had never heard before. The music flooded his head as he processed what he had just experienced.

That sudden, random, foreign thought was something he had been ignoring this whole day…and yet, when it was laid out to him, it seemed so obvious. His position really wasn’t going to go back to the way it was on Earth, so why did he continually drown himself in OCEAN’s demands? True, their threats held the pikachu back…but anywhere was better than this.

Jermy mulled over his next step — the decision he would need to make if he wanted to break off. The thought of having to go toe-to-toe with their soldiers intimidated him, but the beats filling his ears calmed his fears and raised his confidence. He was a smart cookie, right? He could find some way around or through those fights, surely, even if his strength wasn’t all there. All he had to do was make sure everyone else came out of it okay.

Slowly, Jermy rose to his feet. “Thanks,” he remarked as he passed the headphones back to a relieved Chip. He wasted no time in turning to his robot, light coming through the front glass like a headlight. “ORB, I want you to change your internal alignments.”

Jermy waited for a witty retort from ORB that never came. “What alignments are you adjusting?”

After a pause, Jermy asserted, “OCEAN is an enemy now.”

Poliwrath’s eyes flicked between Jermy and ORB. “Uh, what the heck are ya…?”

“I should point out that shifting OCEAN to the enemies list also shifts a multitude of people out of the friends list,” ORB said. “Are you sure?”

“Well…” Considering himself, the war, and Jane… “A lot of them are hanging in the wrong list.”

ORB paused for a moment, silently churning his request. Then, he said, “If you want to protect the Club, you’re not going to do it at this pace. You snails need to stop slithering around.”

“Wait…” Chip peered at Jermy. “What does he mean, protect the Club?”

“I’ll make this quick.” Jermy spun to the Service Guild members. “Long story short, I lied. Politoed and the others aren’t here in the dark. They’re closer to the entrance…and if we don’t go find them now, they’re all done for.”

Ffsshhhhhhh…

The weapon sizzled like a soda can as a purple gas filled the air. Poison… Meowth took a quick breath of fresh air and held it as the colored mist spread around him. He sprung back, but Mathew rushed him down. He swung for his left cheek, but refocused at the last second and smacked him in the side. Meowth grit his teeth and put a paw over his mouth, trying not to gasp from the pain. He kicked him away and sprinted out of the cloud.

He peered at Joey as he stumbled away. The totodile was still rummaging through his satchel, trying to find his kit. Even if Mathew refused to fight Joey, Meowth didn’t like the thought of leaving Joey alone with him. Meowth needed to buy time before he could make a break for—

A bone soared right past his face.

Meowth skidded to a stop, just short of taking a face-full of it…and then lost his balance, tumbling into the trash at his feet. He heard the club whir through the air, returning to Mathew like a boomerang. The cat was prone — he needed to think fast. As his arms swum through the filth around him, an idea came.

He grasped a bottle, turned onto his back, and tossed it at Mathew. Then, a piece of cardboard. Then, an old scarf. Mathew shrugged off each makeshift weapon easily. “Shit, that’s the best you’ve got?” he lowered his weapons as he came closer, looking disappointed. “Where are those coins of yours—gah!”

Coin-shaped disks of energy, formed in Meowth’s own paws, were slung through the air, answering Mathew’s question. One slashed at his right arm, one at his left, and one was big enough to topple Mathew over. He sprung to his feet and getting some distance. “Joey! Have you found it yet?”

“Just a sec…got it!” At the other end of the cave, Joey leapt up and raised his arms to the sky, clutching his medical kit in his hands.

“Open it up. How many pink berries are in there?” Trying to get some level of protection between him and Mathew, Meowth leapt at one of the trash piles and started clawing his way up. Whoever had left these here — the geodudes? — had packed them surprisingly tightly, well enough to mostly hold his weight.

The sounds of panic echoed through Meowth’s ears as Joey fumbled with his kit, trying not to drop the items inside as he opened it. “Uh…ain’t any more than two in here!”

Two…that wasn’t a lot. If Mathew fired another poison cloud toward him on the summit of this mound, he’d only be able to stand his ground twice, assuming Joey could toss one his—wait. Where had Mathew gone?

Meowth looked all around the base of his pile. Hadn’t the cubone been just behind him? Fortunately for him, his eyes were well-adjusted to the dark, so if Mathew was trying to slink through the shadows, he wasn’t going to have much luck. That meant he must be hiding behind one of the other piles… “Joey, do you see him?” he called out to the totodile.

“Hah…Lemme see.” Joey closed his satchel and began weaving through the small maze of mounds. Right as he came close to the cat, he suddenly pointed at one of the piles close to him. “Here!”

Waste clattered and crashed as Mathew sprung out from behind it. He was carrying his satchel in the arm that once held his Club. With a thrust of his other hand, he pointed his mystery weapon forward and fired…at the base of the pile? Meowth looked on confusedly as it formed below, then let his watchful eyes follow Mathew as he sprinted to the other side.

Meowth could see his game here — Mathew was going to climb up to him, then push him backwards into the poison, rendering him unable to hold his breath through it. He produced another coin in his paw, preparing to deliver another Pay Day onto the cubone. If he wanted to climb up here, he could certainly try.

Preparing his ascent, Mathew reached into his satchel and pulled out his—

That wasn’t his club.

FWOOSH!

A powerful, controlled blast of wind rushed from the Whirlwind Wand into Meowth, launching him backwards. Cutting pain seared through Meowth’s back as he slammed into the wall of the cave, then went down…down…into the poison cloud. He hit the floor, and instantly a putrid taste filled his mouth. He coughed and hacked, trying to get it out of his system, but it persisted, leaving him weak, injured, and unable to move.

He could barely even look up to see Mathew approach him as the cloud dissipated. “We could stop this right now, Meowth,” he told him firmly. “If you leave this cave and the Club, never speak of this again, and stay the hell out of our way…we’re done here.”

Meowth wheezed and shuddered, barely even able to get out an answer. If he turned back here, he wouldn’t find the full truth behind his father. If he turned back here, he would never prove that his peers were wrong about him. Even worse, if he turned back here, he let Mathew have this win. He couldn’t afford to leave this fight. Besides…it was probably time for him to take a beating, anyway. “N—cugh!—Never…”

Mathew paused, as if stunned by the answer. Then he stepped forward, raised his arm, and… “Alright then. Have it your way!” The club banged down on Meowth’s ribcage, making him lurch in pain. “I’m not leaving…” Again. “until my job here is done!” Again. Scraped from the rock, eaten away at by poison, and beaten by a club, his vision was going dark… “So we’ll just have to—gaaaaaah!”

Mathew screamed, stumbling away from him in recoil. Meowth couldn’t see what hit the cubone…but he did see water dripping all over the rocks next to him. He was picked up, and a pink berry was awkwardly put in his mouth, followed by a blue one. Meowth swallowed them both down. The feeling of being gnawed at from within subsided, and energy came back to him.

“Are you good?” Joey asked, trying to put him back onto his feet. The totodile put his kit into his paw.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Meowth pushed off from the totodile, regaining his bearings. He looked over to the cubone, still reeling from the Water Gun Joey launched on him. Droplets fell from the back of Mathew’s dampened skull mask, making him flinch whenever one happened to hit his tail. He looked back to Meowth in contempt, raising his club and the Whirlwind Wand in his other hand…and, upon seeing Joey put himself between the two, promptly lowered them.

“Seriously, Joey, you’ve gotta stay out of this,” he ordered, breathing heavily. “Do you want me to use either of these?”

“I reckon you shouldn’t use any of them,” Joey said, looking down upon the reptile. Just barely lit by the other torches, Meowth could see fury and desperation in Mathew’s expression…but he didn’t dare lift a finger against the totodile. Joey didn’t seem oblivious to this, either. “And against me, you ain’t gonna, are you?”

Mathew seemed momentarily surprised. “Joey…what kind of person do you think I am?”

I would never hurt somebody who wasn’t dead to me, Meowth figured Mathew intended.

The crocodile squinted. “You don’t got any problems with using it against Meowth. Why not me?”

“Because he’s dangerous, and you’re a kid.”

“Since when did me being a kid ever stop us before?” Joey pressed.

“Ugh, forget this!” Mathew grabbed the totodile’s side and pushed him away, then sent a gust to Meowth’s right. Meowth narrowly avoided being blown back — but it did get his arm, causing his grip on his kit to go loose. It spun like a disk and crashed into a mound of trash, out of sight. “Ha! Hole in one, bitch!” the cubone then yelled, storming the cat at a reinvigorated pace.

Once more, Meowth was subject to a game of cat-and-mouse, where he was the mouse. Joey, with a yell, was the dog now, hunting the cat.

So healing off his strikes or poison is out of the question, Meowth contemplated as he sprinted, moving on all fours to pick up the pace. I need to get him to miss everything he throws at me. But how—?! His train of thought was interrupted as his hind paw struck the sharp end of a wedged rock. A second later, he heard Mathew cry out as he stumbled, tripping over that same rock. That gave him an idea…

Using a passing pile of waste as a stepstool, Meowth reached up and pried one of the torches off of its mount. “Joey!” he called as he swapped back to a bipedal run. “Put out every torch in this room except for this one!”

“What?!” Mathew cried, panting as he sprinted harder to close the gap between them. “Damn you…!”

Joey called out. “Are you sure it’s okay if I—”

“I’ll be fine.” Suddenly, the cat planted a foot down and faced Mathew head-on. When he came down with his club, Meowth blocked it with his torch. The weapons were almost of equal size. “I can see in the dark. Just take them out!”

Mathew continued his onslaught, making swing after swing after swing with both the club and the wand. Meowth’s new torch was much easier to guard with than his claws were, allowing him to keep each strike away as the cubone advanced upon him, pushing him against the wall at his back. It may not have worked earlier, but Mathew was breathing harder, swinging sloppier… He was relentless, but the totodile had done a number on his stamina.

Speaking of Joey, the cat couldn’t help but notice torches going dark out of the corner of his vision, one by one. If Meowth could just hold out a bit longer…

Angered by their deadlock, Mathew pulled back as far as he could muster, then swung harshly down on Meowth with both weapons. He blocked, but couldn’t throw him off, leaving the two in a struggle. The two stared at each other for a moment…and then Mathew’s eyes flicked to the end of his torch.

Before Meowth could even think about it, Mathew slid the club up and pressed the blunt end straight into his torch’s fire. Once more, the club was ignited — and right up in his face. Meowth leaned his head away from the club, using a free paw to pull some of his lengthy whiskers out of the way. With Mathew reaching so far, it was easy to prod him with the torch.

“Gyaaah!” Seeming more stunned than in pain, Mathew fell back, giving just enough room for Meowth to slip away. He gave a sweeping look around them…and was met with darkness. Joey worked fast — fast enough to already be at his side, lobbing one last small Water Gun at Mathew’s club. Now the two could only see what was immediately around them.

“Quick! If you don’t want him to see, we gotta get this room blacker than a…oh, forget it!” Joey pointed to the torch in his paw, fixing to take it out.

Meowth held it almost protectively. “Then how would you be able to—?”

“Oh no you don’t!” Giving them no time to banter, Mathew lunged from the dark, trying to tackle Meowth. With just enough time to react, Meowth kept himself from falling…but the cubone’s shove broke his grip on his torch. Meowth recoiled as the torch fell straight into the trash on the floor.

It landed by a sheet of discarded paper. The light consumed the page, and quickly, its contents were burnt away. The flames danced from one piece of waste to the next, spreading like a plague. Soon the whole pile was charred, fueling the destruction as it spread.

For a moment, the three of them backed up, watching it grow and cast long shadows behind them all. Joey sloppily lurched back and launched a Water Gun at it, but the move was too weak, and the totodile was too tired. He wasn’t strong enough to put this fire out. None of them were.

All at once, each of them realized the moment had come to make their move.

Meowth and Joey whirled towards the exit, but they were too slow. With a clatter, Mathew threw his club and wand aside and gripped Meowth’s tail. He swallowed a yowl as he was pulled back towards the flame, kicking futilely.

“Meowth!” Joey cried. He lunged and grabbed one of his paws. “What the heck are you doing?!” he asked Mathew as he tried to get Meowth away. “Ain’t you gonna get burned, too?!”

“For causes like this, it’s worth it!” the cubone yelled. With whatever strength was left in him, he desperately pulled Meowth towards the fire.

Meowth grunted in pain, trying not to cry out in pain and break Joey’s focus. He was the object in their tug-of-war, and the pain between his arm and his tail was splitting. The cat could swear he was going to rip in half—

“All of you, stop!

Suddenly, a bolt of electricity surged over Meowth’s head. Mathew and Joey both let go of him, scrambling away from the fire. Meowth clamored onto two paws and turned to face Jermy, putting himself at the center of the trio. He refastened his combative stance. “Great, now there’s three of you…”

“He said ‘all of you’, moron,” ORB chimed in, rolling past Meowth’s shins as he headed off into the darkness.

“Everything there is to be said about you has already been said, so let’s just not get into it.” Jermy said before turning to Mathew. “You need to stop attacking Meowth.”

Meowth loosened his stance, surprised. Jermy was…asking Mathew to stand down? With a glance, he saw the totodile gawk, too.

“What?!” The cubone was just as flabbergasted. “Are you crazy? You realize OCEAN’s gonna—”

“Not give you the cozy job with the science division? Yeah, they won’t. It never existed in the first place — at least, not a cozy one. The only ones I know work you down to the bone, treat you like you’re worthless, and then don’t bat an eye if you ever get knocked down… It’s not the career you said you were looking for, Mathew.”

“You mean exactly what we’ve been doing up to now?” Mathew spat. The fire behind them crackled, reaching the peak of its ferocity. “Well…fuck it! That would be fine. I can handle putting my hand in this war of the gods or whatever that OCEAN’s doing. As long as it helps make that war end so I can find some peace—”

“Do you really think it’s gonna be all hunky-dory once you finish the war? No,” Jermy said. “You won’t come out of it the same guy you were going in. OCEAN and the war will take away what’s important to you, and you’ll never get it back. They already have taken away what’s important to you…” He squinted at Mathew for a moment, then addressed everyone. “And they’re in the process of taking even more, right now!”

Mathew stood there for a moment, stunned into silence. “...But…you were the one who led me to OCEAN in the first place! You had our backs every step of the way! How can you just turn around and—”

“Yes, I did do all those things,” Jermy cut in. “All of this is my fault. If I had the guts to tell my bosses off, you would actually be able to relax here in Kalmwa’er…and maybe Joey would be able to work on finding where his mom and dad ended up. I’ve made a mess of things, so just…lemme put it all back together, alright?”

Joey looked at Jermy in surprise, and with great sympathy. “Jermy…” Meowth wanted to feel sympathetic as well, but after that fight, he could hardly muster the energy.

“Also, since he forgot to mention the most important part,” ORB added, carrying Meowth’s medical kit in his claw, “There are actual lives on the line here. Why do you think OCEAN split you into two groups in the first place?”

It took a moment for the revelation to hit Meowth. He took back his kit and popped one more Oran Berry into his mouth, then passed one to Joey — luckily, he still had plenty of those. “If they knew I was meddling, then they probably also know that…”

“Yes,” ORB affirmed. “The rest of the Club is in mortal danger.”

“Hah?! Oh no!” Joey cried with horror. “We gotta get back to them!” He began to run off, biting into the berry as he moved.

“What?” Mathew seemed skeptical. “Who the hell would be fighting the rest of the Club? The only ones there are the geodude.”

“That’s what they wanted you to think,” ORB commented, “and it’s why we need to move.”

“Yeah, what he said!” Jermy slipped forward, using a Quick Attack to get ahead. His cheeks sparked, just barely lighting the way for them. “Come on!”

Meowth began to chase after them, but he stopped when he peered back. Mathew wasn’t moving. “Aren’t you coming?”

“...What?” Mathew’s breathy words weren’t aimed at Meowth. The cubone had his back to him, staring at the fire.

Meowth paused, really questioning if he should offer, but… “Do you need an oran, or…” No reply. “Forget it.” He whirled around and left Mathew be. He wouldn’t want his help after everything, anyway.

With the torches on the walls of the cramped path still lit, Meowth, Joey, Jermy, and ORB had almost no trouble running back the way they came. Soon, they emerged from the opening back to the river…

Just in time to see two green blurs cascade past them.

Joey cried out as Politoed and Breloom hit the rocks of the banks, splaying out. The former’s King’s Rock slipped off of his head; the latter’s cape tugged at her neck, pulled along by the current. Meowth was left stunned. A perfectly clean hit on both of them at once? He’d never seen that before.

The one responsible for it did not make himself a secret — and it wasn’t a geodude. To their left was a grey pokémon, staring them down with beady green eyes as he stood tall. He brandished the massive red girder in his hands as, behind him, Meowth could hear the grunts of Minichino, Poliwrath, and Chip fighting deeper in the cave.

“Well, what do we got here…?” The gurdurr looked confusedly at Jermy, but as his gaze shifted to Meowth, his expression turned to a wicked grin. “Fresh meat.”
 
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Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. lugia
  5. quilava-fobbie
  6. sneasel-kate
  7. heliolisk-fobbie
Heya, it's been -checks notes- ... just under a year since I read the Prologue for this, but in the interest of getting my foot in the door for actually picking up that review series before I promptly get run over by a few review events starting tomorrow and carrying on for the next month, I'd figure I'd come back to this for the next chapter of Double-Edged, featuring…

Chapter 1

The rush was surrounding, engulfing. It pushed and pulled as if it were the breath of the Earth. The water cradled the boy, soothing him.

The water...water...water is an essential part of human survival. For as long as either have existed, civilizations have built their foundations on rivers and coastlines, tying their fates together. Even in the distant lands of the western frontier, desert-trotters with brimmed hats, roped lassos, and bold horses would survive on canteens and waterholes. So, when defenseless water sources are ravaged by pollutants caused by ignorance, overuse, and abuse, it's only natural that next to go is—

CRASH!


Ah yes, a positive sign of where this plot is going already. Though from the mention of a 'boy', I presume that this is the protagonist from the Prologue, who struck me as being middle-aged, at least.

A wrathful wave slammed the boy was slammed in the side as a wrathful wave the water overcame him. He was It flung him forward, sending him smacking the ground chest-first, then back-first, then whatever-this-appendage-is-first. Bitter salt water filled his odd-feeling throat, prompting the boy to cough himself awake. He fumbled the best he could onto his rear. He sunk a little into the...sand beneath.

I kinda wonder if those first two sentences would've sounded better had you not used passive voice. I made an attempt at rephrasing it into a more active voice, but unsure if it's introducing any unintended meanings there.

He looked down at the darkened surface below him. He was on the shoreline of a beach… That explained why he had uncovered some old philosophizing about water, of all things, from the back of his brain. But why had he been napping this close to the shore? He figured he was smart enough to avoid rip currents.

On that subject, why was he on a beach in the first place?

'Old' what again? Like did this boy come across a person? A message? Or...?

I assume it's a person, but it might make sense to drop an extra word in there for disambiguation unless if an 'old' is something really specific in this setting.

The boy found some way to get to his feet, fighting past this strange feeling that must've come from ingesting that salt water. A whirl around gave him a contradictory image. The glistening horizon didn't show any signs of boats or vehicles that you'd usually expect around a populated beach, and the way the land bended didn't let him see anything but forest and shrubbery. But the beach behind him was strewn with bags, boxes, cans, shards of plastic, loose paper prints with unfamiliar logos on them…

It was kind of a mess, if the boy wanted to be honest. Was he near civilization or not? Either way, the lack of anyone in sight was a bad sign.

This guy's never read about trash gyres in the ocean, has he? Since trash winds up piling up in the darnedest places far away from civilization even in reality. Which would be an easy way to reconcile the ton of garbage with a lack of any apparent civilization around.

In terms of structure quibbles, I kinda wonder if this paragraph would've worked better as two smaller ones. Also, for the feeling that this protagonist has, it might make sense to be a little more specific than what's presently there. Like does he feel nauseous? Dizzy? General low-grade discomfort? I assume it's something along those lines, and as little as 1-3 words would go a long way of narrowing that down a bit.

He gave another look to the ocean that had so rudely awoken him after all of that serenading with the gentle noise of the tide. The water shone an undoubtedly bright blue, tipped with the white crests of waves, with a transparency that gave the surface clarity. It looked like something straight out of a magazine for those fancy cruise ships. So did that mean he was on an island in the Bahamas? No, that didn't seem right. The line of evenly spaced trees behind him had much more of an inland look than a coastal look, lacking any kind of palm trees or coconuts and how do I know all this?

... Maybe this is the protag from the Prologue after all. Wasn't expecting that from the 'boy' part, though I suppose Super does have a protag that's strongly implied to be older than his Pokémon body's analogous age, so...

He took a step away from the shoreline and turned inwards. What class was he drawing all this information from? Was it a biology class? No… Maybe a grade school fact? But he couldn't piece together the exact moment or person he got it from. The boy was staring at a list of names with nothing to attach to them.

What...did he remember?

My name is Joey Johdaile

Okay, yeah. This is Rick Sanchez the guy who built the portal device.

Okay… What else?

I am sixteen years old.

Good. What was he doing before he woke up?

... This guy built an interdimensional portal at age 16? I honestly legit can't tell anymore if this is the same protag as the Prologue since I swear that guy did not vibe as being 16 at all. .-.



What town did he live in? What school did he go to? What were the names of his friends?



Where were his parents?



Who were his parents?



Well, ain't that a problem.

Protag: "I should probably be freaking out a lot harder than this right now, but uh... yeah, one thing at a time right now." ^^;

Though yeah, if this isn't Mr. Portal and I just didn't pick up the right vibes from the Prologue, it's someone else who stumbled through it somehow. Can't tell which of the two things are just yet.

Joey began heaving as his nerves set in. He was alone, an amnesiac, stranded on a beach with no society, and what the heck was wrong with his face? He thought it was just dizziness at first, but this was something else entirely. The puffing of his mouth was so far away from his eyes, and the air in his nose felt like it was moving...sideways? And what was that when he tried crossing his eyes? It was way too long to be a nose...and blue.

Joey pulled his palms into view. His hands, if that's what you'd call such thick, nubby things, were that same light shade of blue. He fidgeted his fingers together. They moved similarly enough to how he supposed they should feel, but his fingers still felt decidedly off, as if he was—

Oh, so he's the A-Meowth from the cover. Though I just realized that you missed a golden opportunity to have Joey be an A-Rattata and get in a few jokes about that.
:loltias:


Though this is another one of those paragraphs where there was enough going on that I think it's worth considering dividing it up.

Wait.

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

That was not a mouth. That was a...maw. A crocodilian maw!

Scratch that about the A-Meowth there, guess he's the Totodile.

Now Joey was on a whole new level of dread. On top of all those other problems, he couldn't even call himself human! That was the last factor Joey needed to get moving. He had to find somebody else, find society, get his memories back, and figure out what exactly he was right now.

Just wait until your new body's instincts get you planking along the ground to sunbathe for hours at a time, kid.

Grumble…

And he needed to do it fast, if he didn't want to resort to hunting.

Actually, does Joey have a cognizance of why hunting would be "squeamish"/"weird" right now? And for that matter, if it crossed his mind by reflex, wouldn't some part him find it weird / strange?

Since given that Joey came from a world where Pokémon are cartoon animals, if he had any experience with hunting as a human, wouldn't he be thinking stuff like "deer" that would require bows or firearms to take down in the first place?

Also, considering all the water all around him, I'm a little surprised 'fishing' didn't cross his mind at all.

Joey turned to hustle through large stalks of grass as he approached the forest. There was an incline behind the first layer of trees. If he could just get a vantage point…

But before he could get any closer, Joey's large foot kicked what looked like a green cowboy hat with a white knitted brim. Unlike the garbage around him, the hat was only on the surface of the beach. Curious, Joey picked it up. There was a note written on the inside, taped to the top. Joey moved it around his maw and held the inside to his eyes.

Don't forget.

JJ and MW

Oh, so that explains your user icon. Though I guess I might be onto something about Joey not being the Prologue protag, since that note implies that Joey came along with another person, and the Prologue protag was depicted going in alone.

He couldn't help but scoff. Don't forget… A little late for that. Regardless, the hat was surely his, if "JJ" was any indication. He threaded the hat's string below the front of his maw and fitted it on. The protection from the sun's heat was comforting.

Joey: "You know, in retrospect, I really should've brought a diary along or something with my old life story written in it." >.<

With that out of the way, Joey departed from the beach. He trudged up a hill and quickly realized he had gotten himself into a much tougher climb than he had anticipated. Not helping were his much shorter-feeling knees, which could only hold so much footing at this tight of an angle. However, sure enough Joey found his way to the top — but the boon of the climb quickly revealed itself as something entirely different.

Yes, and that's why you're presently a facultative biped, Joey. To put those foreclaws to use at moments just like these.

The boy-turned-crocodilian gawked as soon as he spotted it. Lying before him was...another animal! Whatever it was seemed just as unrecognizable as himself. The shorter brown creature might have been reptilian, but there was no way to tell beyond that white mask of its — aside from a nasty, exposing crack on its right side. Joey strafed around the unconscious creature, studying it. A steady breath proved its survival, and, upon closer inspection of the fancy-looking tie around its neck and a gold ring around its...thumb, its sentience. Next to its body was some kind of long, slender club with two nubs at one end, covered in the same material as the mask. Joey began to realize those substances were bones. What was this fellow doing carrying around bones?

Aha, I see we've come across one of the other party members from the cover, since this is clearly the A-Marowak. Wonder if this is 'MW' or someone different.

Joey eyed to the left and right warily. Nobody else in sight… Regardless of whether the animal was dangerous or not, he didn't have much else of an option. He had to try shaking him awake. He put his hands on the creature, and…

>waking someone up to see a mouth full of crocodilian teeth as the first thing upon being roused

Image


Sounds like a fast way to learn about how Totodile line 'mons apparently being fast to regrow teeth, but you do you, Joey.

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

Wow, Joey really is going to be missing a few teeth at this rate if that's how A-Marowak there is parsing things. ^^;

"Get off!" the man yelled at the deadly blue beast atop him. He hurriedly reached for the nearest object he could grab and flung it at the creature.

Oh, so this is another human, huh? Though I kinda wonder if there ought to have been a paragraph before this where Alolawak cracks his eyes open, sees the face full of crocodile teeth and promptly "nope nope nope"s out before this. Since I'm not fully sure how he's aware there's a "deadly beast" on him let alone the color given that he's never mentioned looking up.

"Woah!" The hat-wearing pokémon, which he recognized as a totodile past his panic, stumbled backwards.

I mean, while it was kinda obvious that this was Joey rousing this guy from context, I do wonder if that paragraph of description I suggested earlier would've been helpful. Since this is a lot of visual detail for Alolawak to be cognizant of while the text seems to be missing a step about how he's seen this.

The man took the opportunity to run. He stood — and he fell. He stood again, walked — tripped. His vision felt oddly clouded by...a snout? A helmet? What was that? No time to get an answer. He had to keep moving!

Alolawak: "I sure hope that croc thing isn't as dangerous as it looks, since I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be its lunch at this rate."
:uhhh:


"Where in Sam Hill are you going?!" the totodile exclaimed behind him.

... I should be a lot less surprised Joey would talk like that when he came to this world with a cowboy hat.
:loltias:


"Away from y—oh, shit!" The man's feet slipped out from under him as the ground suddenly dropped away. He rolled and tumbled down the inclination, bouncing and bounding — straight into the bark of a tree.

It's a bit nitpicky of me, but I kinda wonder if this would've worked better as something like "trunk", since bark is technically all along a tree while "trunk" is much more clearly the solid and thick part standing up that won't yield if you tumble into it.

Alolawak: "... Ow." X_X

"Mister!" the youthful, thinly-accented voice of the totodile exclaimed as the man's hip struck the tree. Before he knew it, the totodile's shadow was on top of his aching body. "Sorry about that. Are you okay?"

I would recommend yeeting the underlined into the prior paragraph in some capacity, since Alolawak has technically struck the tree already at this point, and one would think that he'd notice "Agh! My hip!" after crashing into it.

[ ]

"Does it look like it…?!" The man groaned. A blue hand came close to his eyes. Defeated, the man slowly outstretched his own and seized it. The totodile pulled him to his feet, giving him a moment to get accustomed to this off-kilter feeling.

"That was a nasty fall," he remarked. "You ain't got any reason to be scared of me, you know. I was just trying to wake you up."

... Actually, it never is communicated that Alolawak has put two and two together that "okay, this croc thing isn't dangerous". Given that the scene is already written from his PoV, I kinda wonder if it'd have made sense to explicitly write out that realization somewhere around the added brackets.

"S-sure…" the man said, eyeing his maw loaded with sharp teeth.

"Mister, I need you to answer some questions. But before that…" The totodile stepped away from the man and picked up something — presumably what he had thrown off the hill before joining it himself. "Here you go. This is yours, right?"

"What is that?" He looked down at the object. It was a—

Joey: "A bone? Yeah. I thought it was kinda weird, but it was right next to you, so it is yours, right?" ^^


Joey: ".... Right?" ._.;

"Nope!" The man stumbled away from the slender, one-ended bone club. "That is not mine. Not in a million years."

... Is the "Nope!" meant to be thought as opposed to be spoken aloud? Since the followup dialogue is significantly calmer in vibe than the first part.

"But it was right next to you," the totodile said. "And it's bone, like your mask."

Alolawak: "Look, who goes around with a giant femur?!" >_>;
Joey: "You do, apparently." ^^;

"Mask?" The man finally realized that he was no longer the man — he was the cubone. He rubbed his hands around his mask. He found a crack where his scaly skin was exposed...on the right side of the skull. "What kind of sick joke is this? Cubone. Of course I'm a cubone…"

Image


Though I take it that means that Alolwak here still has some of his memories in his head given that he understands enough about why being turned into a Cubone line 'mon is apparently a sick cosmic joke for him.

"Hah?" The totodile cocked his head. "You're gonna have to explain what you're talking about, mister."

The man ignored the totodile, too busy absorbing the irony of his new species. Now everything was coming back to him. His project, his motives, his goal… His goal! The man whirled around. "Hey, are you D.E?!"

Oh so that's the guy who built the portal in the Prologue. Probably. Maybe. Though I guess this also confirms that Alolawak didn't get amnesia'd as hard as Joey did given that he clearly remembers that he was looking for someone in this world.

"Uh, I reckon I'm not," the totodile quickly replied, slightly backing away from the man's spastic excitement.

"Damnit," the man said, leaning towards the totodile to swipe the club that, regardless of his feelings, he supposed belonged to him now. "I'll just store this in… Wait. Crap. Where…?!" The cubone looked around frantically, but couldn't see it. He rushed away from the totodile.

Wait, but I thought he was a-

- Peeks back to the last scene -

Oh huh, guess he is a Cubone after all. Guess he evolves pretty quick in the story, since he sure isn't one in that cover art.

"Hey, wait! You gotta slow down for a moment!" he exclaimed.

"In a minute! Just let me find my…" The man searched around shrubs and trees alike. Where on Earth was his backpack?

Assuming it survived the interdimensional jump, probably buried in a mountain of trash right now.

"Mister, please! Stop!" the totodile exclaimed, this time grabbing Mathew's attention. "Do you know where we are? I woke up on the beach over yonder as this weird crocodile-man and I—"

I'm looking forward to Joey's realization that he's 2 feet tall once he walks up along something that is clearly sized for humans. I can already tell it's going to be a riot. :V

... Though wait, if that hat was sized for him as a human, how does that fit his head right now anyways? .-.

"Beats me. I just got here myself," the man replied, raising his mitten-like hands out of the bush he was pulling apart and putting them into a half-shrug. He shook his head before returning to the search. "Real funny, D.E. You really got me," he muttered. "Coulda been dropped into a building or a city or something, but nope! Forest."

Oh, so these two didn't come with each other from the outset back on the other side of the portal, since Cubone here very clearly doesn't seem to recall having a partner before making the jump.

"Who is this D.E. fella you keep yammering on about?" the totodile asked, mild desperation fading into curiosity.

"Just the guy who sent me the blueprints to get here. Wherever 'here' is…" The man's head swiveled, but all there was to see were trees and bushes, and hills with more trees and bushes.

... Oh, so the Cubone is the protag from the Prologue. I mean, yeah. He definitely feels like he'd vibe well with a Cubone as a personality. Not sure where Joey wound up entering the equation here, though.

The totodile frowned. "Oh, no. I reckon that means you're just as lost as me."

"Lost… Lost?!" the cubone exclaimed, the realization setting in. He put a hand to his skull mask. "Shit. Shit! I am lost! As if my life wasn't glorious enough! What am I supposed to do about that?!"

Joey: "... Take a deep breath to calm yourself down and then we'll try and figure out where we are? I mean, we woke up in a trash dump, so there's civilization somewhere, at least?"
:joltyshrug~1:


[ ]

"Hey, you gotta stay with me!" The totodile's remark didn't make the man flinch any less when he grabbed his arm. The man held still, listening to him. "I'm scared too, but if we freak out, we're gonna get about as far as a mule on a marathon. I bet we can get ourselves un-lost if we team up."

Cubone is never mentioned starting to walk off at all prior to Joey grabbing him. You probably want to drop in something to that effect.

"Right…" the cubone heaved, drawing his arm away from the totodile's. "First things first." The totodile rubbed his hands together in determination. "What're we looking for here?"

"My backpack. Brown, leather, has half a dozen pockets…"

"Got it. One backpack, coming up!"

... Kinda wonder if we ought to have a bit of internal commentary / "how on earth did this happen to me?"-ness from Cubone's internal PoV here. Since it's a chance both to show how he parses Joey at the moment and give some hints as to background and if his memory might be compromised / incomplete at all.

The two of them got to work, spreading out to cover as much ground as possible. [ And then Joey and Cubone poked around some bushes or whatever when Joey looks up or something like that ]

"So, what's a fella like you in need of a backpack for, anyway?" the totodile asked as they searched.

The cubone rose from checking underneath a shrub to answer that question. "Well, the alternative was to carry all of my projects by hand."

Yeah, this feels like something that could've been hinted at or built up towards in snippets of internal thought from Cubone's end earlier. Like I get that you might not want to instantly just blurt out his life story if there's meant to be some mystery, but I feel that there's still room to hazily hint at things like him mentioning offhand that "he needed his bag since it was filled with his notes" or something like that.

"Projects?"

"Building projects," he clarified with his back to the totodile. "I'm a bit of a robotics engineer?"

[ Joey wow expression here ]

"Really? That's buck-wild!" he exclaimed in awe.

Cubone: "Kid, they're just robots. Considering the world we came from, you probably ran into them on whatever farm you came from before coming here."
:eltyunamused:

Joey: "You see, I wouldn't know that at all since I literally remember nothing other than my name right now." ^^;

"Yeah, kinda." He nodded, intended more for himself than for his companion. "Name's Mathew, by the way. Mathew Walker."

Oh, so this is MW from the note in Joey's hat. Though I wonder how on earth Joey got mixed into all of this then, since the Prologue was definitely written framing it as a solo endeavor for Matt and he very distinctly mentioned that he doubted anyone in town would miss him.

"Nice name. I reckon mine's Joey."

"Reckon? What, so you don't know?" Mathew asked.

"Kinda? I know a couple things, like my name, my age, why water is important, and stuff like that. But when it comes to what I remem…" Joey paused. "Uh, mister?"

Matt: "Okay, seriously, who are you? Since there's no way you just tailed me through my portal since since when do people from around Reno talk like that?" >_>;

Mathew whirled around. "Did you find it?"

"You might want to look up."

[ Mark sees Joey point up into the air or something like that here ]

"Up?" The cubone raised his snout to the sky and… "What the hell?! Why is it in a tree?"

I kinda noticed that a general trend with this chapter this far is that there's a lot of floating dialogue. If you're planning on going back to touch up your earlier chapters at some point, it might make sense to try and inject more description of stuff that's going on in the world or in the head of the viewpoint character both to divide up the dialogue more and to help the readers either better visualize what's going on, or get a better feel for the characters since this is their first introduction to the readers at all in terms of how they tick.

Sure enough, there was his backpack, around a dozen feet over their heads. It laid precariously atop a short branch at the far edge of the sycamore tree. He couldn't help but notice it seemed much bigger, even at a distance.

"Things just keep getting weirder, don't they?" Joey said.

Matt: "You're. Two. Feet. Tall right now!" >_>;
Joey: "... Wait, how do you know that again?" ._.;
Matt: "Look, have you ever heard of 'Pokémon' before?" -_-;
Joey: "... Nope. But my mind's kinda blank in general." ^^;
Matt: "Okay, well for starters, you're currently one called a 'Totodile', and they're literally two feet tall by design." >.<

"There's no way I miscalculated hard enough to end up in the sky." Mathew glanced at the clouds, then back at the totodile. "You didn't happen to see me fall, did you?"

Joey raised an eyelid as if it were a brow. "I reckon I'd have found you screaming like a banshee instead of sleeping like a baby if you did."

Given how "rural Southern US" Joey's accent has been vibing earlier, I'm surprised his go-to idiom wasn't "squealing like a stuck pig".

[ ]

"Fair enough." Mathew returned his attention to the tree holding his backpack hostage. "You know, I don't think I've ever climbed a tree before. Seemed hard enough as a human, much less as a cubone." He looked down at himself. "Now I have more leg strength than I do arm strength. What am I going to do with that?"

"No problem, mister!" The totodile gave a confident smile. "I'll help you get that backpack down."

[ ]

"What, can you climb trees with those stubby arms of yours?" Mathew asked.

A couple parts that IMO stand out as places to inject description. e.x. Mark looking up at the branches and going
:uhhh:
at the prospect of how he's supposed to get his bag back for the first, and his incredulity / double-take at seeing Mark volunteer at climbing a tree as a Totodile in the second set of brackets.

"Well… Hm." Joey hummed and hawed for a moment until something came to him. "Oh yeah, I sure can! Gators can climb trees, and I'm about as close to a gator as a fly to a bus stop next to a lightpost."

Oh, so Joey is all but confirmed from hailing somewhere in or not far from one of the areas in green:


Image


Since while a quick Google reveals he's right (TIL), that's not exactly something that's widely known among people that aren't familiar with alligators in the first place.

Mathew stared at his accomplice dumbfoundedly. "Gators can what?"

"It's more of them throwing themselves at the tree and scuttling up as high as they can, but, yeah." Joey looked away from him. "Sure wish I knew where I learned all that from."

Given your accent... yeah, you lived someplace either where alligators lived or else close by enough to pick that up from osmosis from the people you know.

"Well, remind me not to fight an alligator near a tree…" he muttered.

In the meantime, his mind was drifting off, trying to find some way to coordinate with the climbing crocodile. Mathew gave a sweeping view around the area for inspiration. The forest around them was a delicate balance between hilly plain and woods. With the trees as far apart as they were, the sun exposed every fallen stick, branch, and pebble sitting in the short grass…

"I've got a plan!" he told the totodile. "While you climb, I'll assemble some bush leaves and sticks and stuff and make a bit of a cushion. That way you can just shove it off and not carry the heavy thing all the way back down."

I'd recommend hacking this up into at least 3 paragraphs, since it's a lot all jammed together.

Also, I can see Mark's inner engineer at work, since I'd personally just have heaped up a bunch of leaves and called it a day for chucking the bag down.

"I reckon that'd be much better for me!" Joey said. "I'm already gonna be tired enough just scaling the tree."

"Yeah, something tells me I'll have to share some of my emergency lunch with you."

The totodile gasped. "You have an emergency lunch?!"

"Mm-hmm," Mathew said. "I packed it basically for this exact situation."

One or both of the breaks between these three paragraphs looks like something that you should inject some sort of description in between. It doesn't have to be anything super long, something as simple as body language or internal thoughts would do the job well, but I kinda get the vibe that Mark's meant to basically have a sighing moment between paras 1+2 and Joey's supposed to get visibly excited between paras 2+3, but none of it is explicitly or implicitly described at all.

The totodile looked up at the top of the tree determinedly. "All the more reason to climb, then!"

"Hell yeah! Work that backpack bone!"

Joey glared at him with a blank expression. His smile and optimism were gone.

The cubone snickered. "Ah, sorry. It's been a while since I've talked to much of anyone. I need to stretch out my own pun muscles." He gave the totodile a devilish grin. "Or rather, my puncles."

giphy.gif


I can't imagine that any of this helped Mark's reputation around Reno, though.
:loltias:


"...I'm just going to go get the backpack now."

"You do that."

Mathew turned his attention to his new task, letting Joey find his way up the tree. A number of bushes dotted the area, nestled next to the spread-out trees. He approached what looked like the smallest among them. As his hands brushed one of the branches, he couldn't help but notice how much less sensitive his new scales were compared to human skin. It was like his whole body was calloused.

I actually wonder if that's a legitimate thing for reptile sensation or not, since those scales do tend to be pretty stiff and hard to the touch.

Mathew squatted down and grasped his hands around the base of the bush. He took two deep breaths to ready himself — prying a plant this large out of the ground was going to require a lot of effort. One, two, threeeee—

... It's going to be an Oddish or something like that, isn't it?

"Ack!" Mathew had to keep himself from losing his balance from pulling back so hard. Once he was steady, he stared in wonder at the unearthed plant. The bush was almost as large as his whole body, and yet it had come out as easily as weeds used to back when he had to pluck them from yards. He had even pulled more of the roots cleanly out of the ground than he had anticipated. Was this bush really that weak?

Okay, I'm calling it now, it's an Oddish.

Mathew shook his head. It didn't matter. What mattered was that this was the base of his pile.

... Or maybe not. Guess that's just Pokémon strength™️ in action there.

As he walked close to the shadow his backpack cast, he passed by Joey, leaping at the tree in search of a foothold to climb. As the cubone moved to his second, he finally grabbed on to the lowest branch.

After seeing him make it to the second without falling, the cubone focused on his own efforts. Every bush he plucked after the first was larger and even harder to manage, asking for his full attention. After another minute or so, Mathew chucked his twelfth bush into the pile. He took a step back, sweeping his eyes up and down to make sure the pile would suffice. He had set the pile up so that the backpack would land in flora whether Joey dropped it to the left or right. Mathew was satisfied with the setup, and even if he wasn't, he was too tired to pick up any more.

"Hey Joey! The pile's do—"

"Screeeeeeeeeeee!"

Matt: "Oh for crying out loud. What now?!" >.<

Immediately, the cubone put his hands to the sides of head as a shrill squawking overtook his eardrums.

"Woah, nelly! Watch where you're swinging those wings of yours, mister!" he heard Joey exclaim in panic. What the hell was going on up there?

He's been attacked by a wild / feral / whatever they're called here, of course.

When the cubone looked up, he spotted the totodile, only a few more branches short of the backpack. He was talking to a pair of birds, one of whom was right up in his face. The other was settled in what looked like a nest. Both of them were white with blue highlights on their wings and tail feathers, with orange bills tipped by black.

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

Yup, that would certainly explain why Joey got attacked, since gulls can get nasty about defending their nests IRL.

Though if "Crossover" is a location, you want to capitalize the 'C' there, though I guess this is a sign that Mark was given a map or something of the Solceus before jumping over. Or else he's been here more than once, but I'm pretty sure from his dialogue that this is supposed to be right after the Prologue.

"What do you think I was aiming for, a trubbish?" one spoke with his shrill voice. "You should be the one watching it!"

"Yeah!" a second, similarly voiced wingull added. "This is our tree, so buzz off! Screeeeeeeee!"

Matt: "I could've been turned into a Pikachu since they're the franchise mascots and would make dealing with those two trivial, but nooooo..." >_>;

"Hey, I can get off your tree faster than a hedgehog singing the blues if you just give me a second!" Joey said. "I'm only up here to get my friend's emergency lunch."

"Stop yammering with that maw of yours!" the wingull close up to him said. "We already know you're going to use it to eat us!"

Oh, so Solceus has sapient ferals. Or at least I think that's what these two are. Filed away for the future.

"Wha — that ain't what I meant! There's a lunch inside that backpack on the branch over there!"

The wingull in the nest glanced at the backpack. "That is also ours! Screeeeeeeee!"

Mark: "Joey, why would you tell them that?!" >.<
Joey: "I-I didn't think they were just gonna claim it for themselves like that!" O_O;

Mathew couldn't let that statement slide. He picked up the bone club he had laid aside. "Hell no!" he shouted before whacking the tree. A chunk of bark chipped off, and the leaves rustled loudly. "You can't just claim something that fell out of the sky is yours because it landed on your tree!"

This feels incredibly ill-advised given that this is likely going to quickly go one of two ways:

- A: The Wingull's nest falls out of the tree and they go into murder mode
- B: Joey falls out of the tree and likely gets some nasty injuries for his trouble.

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

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

Mark:
Image


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

The cubone clenched his teeth. These selfish bullies really believed they could just claim his backpack? His emergency lunch? His side project?

…His scrapbook?

I... am honestly a little surprised that Mark isn't phrasing that in coarser terms and getting more agitated given how he was introduced in the Prologue. Especially given that that's his only connection to his life's work right now.

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

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

Yeah, that's more what I was expecting from Mark there.

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

Image


He pointed the blunt end of the club at him. "You haven't seen the first goddamn thing this bone could do to—"

Miss repeatedly if we're taking after game dynamics? :V

"Stoooop!" All of a sudden, all eyes were on the totodile. "I ain't looking for a fight. I'll...I'll go on down." The cubone watched in disbelief as Joey climbed down the tree, branch by branch. The wingull watched, heckling him all the way down.

Mark: "Joey, you idiot." >.<
Joey: "What? It wasn't as if me going up there was making anything better." O_O;

[ ]

"What the hell, man?" Mathew asked when the totodile touched the ground. "We probably could've taken them."

"On empty stomachs, and when the only thing to protect us is that club of yours?" Joey reminded him. "There ain't a chance on Earth we win."

I don't think that's gonna stop Mark, just saying. Though it might make sense to drop in some description of Mark staring stunned at Joey for a moment before he speaks up or something like that.

"We aren't even on Earth," Mathew mumbled, "but whatever. What do you propose we do to get it down instead?"

Joey took a second to answer. "I dunno. I thought maybe we could call a timeout so I could start getting the gears turning? And we could get to know each other better, too."

inb4 the Wingull casually go for the bag and start munching the emergency lunch in front of these two.

A break? When his backpack was still not in good hands? But Joey did have a point. Maybe some time to cool down and evaluate their strategy was in order.

"Fair enough."

Mathew began a slow walk revolving around the tree, letting Joey follow. [ ]

"So, what was all that about your memory before?" he asked, improvising a subject.

"It's really pick-and-choose about what I get to know about myself," Joey explained. "It's frustrating. I dunno if what I do remember says anything about who I was on Earth, or if it's just useless trivia."

Wait, so are they just doing this in full view of the Wingull, or...?

Though I would suggest cutting up that first paragraph into a few pieces and extending the walkaround section a bit. Though to answer your question, Joey, it's both useless trivia and it gives some hints as to what your background is like. :V

"Ouch, Joey. I wish I could trade places with you."

"You shouldn't. It's about as fun as a sabertooth tiger tearing you a new one."

Mathew couldn't keep himself from laughing at that. "Those comparisons of yours keep getting more ridiculous, Joey."

"No more ridiculous than those puncles of yours!"

Matt: "I mean, hey. I got you to use the term, so it can't be that ridiculous." :V

"Ha! True." He smiled to himself. "Man, now you've gotten me thinking of better times. I used to have an old friend that was a lot like you. The worst part was that there were two of them! He had a son who was just like—"

Waaaaaait a minute. Mathew stopped walking. This is too perfect of a coincidence. "So, uh," Mathew fumbled, trying not to jump the gun. "This is going to sound like a dumb question but… Can I see your hat for a second?"

I... did not see that coming. Though I kinda wonder if this ought to have been built up to more earlier in the chapter and/or Prologue, since this is kinda coming out of left field right now.

Joey nodded. "I don't see why not." He slipped the green hat off and handed it to him. Mathew turned it over, and much to his surprise, there it was.

Oh my god, it's the note. Mathew's distant nostalgia transformed into disturbing familiarity. When he pictured a more immature version of this totodile's voice, he couldn't envision anybody else. There was no way it wasn't him.

Oh, so Joey is the kid of one of Matt's departed friends, huh?

Joey gave Mathew a worried glance. "…Why are you staring at it like that, pardner?"

"Joey," Mathew said firmly as he put the hat back on his head, "is your last name Johdaile?"

Joey: "... I'm sorry, how on earth did you know that again?" .-.

Joey recoiled from Mathew in surprise, fumbling with the string as he fit it on himself again. "How did you know that?!"

Yeah, figured. Even if Joey's more startled about it than I anticipated.

Mathew couldn't do anything but gape, totally awestruck.

Something about the way Mathew eyed Joey turned his shock into a bright-eyed eagerness. "Wait. You know me? From when I was human?!" he excitedly asked.

... I'm actually curious if these two met or not, since Matt's dialogue implies that he doesn't, but that he knew Joey's father.

"Hell yeah I do! Like I could ever forget you!" Mathew exclaimed. "Well, I guess I did kinda forget, but only because it's been about a year!"

Suddenly, the cubone was flashed back to the last place he had seen Joey and had a horrible realization.

"Shit, I just realized, Greg and Catherine aren't here." He began pacing around. "If they got a visit from that light, too, I could totally believe they'd come here. But that should mean that I'd have seen them by now. And the fact that they aren't here, but Joey is here, but Joey doesn't have his mem—"

Mathew's heart sunk.

"Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh—"

I... kinda wonder if there should've been more shown off about this / built up to this earlier on. If it's details that have to be kept close to the readers' chest since it'd spoil stuff meant to be dealt with later, I kinda wonder if this particular chunk of this scene ought to have been hacked off at around the part where Mark and Joey back off from the Wingull to regroup and show things as Joey would see them. Since it's just a little weird vibe-wise to see Matt dealing with knowledge that he knows but we don't, yet always just stopping short of giving tangibles for what exactly is going on here.

"Mathew!"

The cubone flinched at the shout. Once more, his introspection had led him to disregard Joey's existence for a moment.

"Greg and Catherine are my dad and mom, ain't they?" Joey asked. "I've gotta know. What're they like? How did they make me...me?"

I was about to call Joey out for magically knowing this, but this feels like a decent enough guess since it's either this or "siblings" as "top relatives that would be mentioned in the same breath as me".

Mathew took a breath, readying to explain, but...his throat halted as if it was clogged. Instead, his mind spoke to him. Do you realize what would happen if you answered his question? he asked himself. He'd get curious and ask for more and more. And then you'll have to tell him about that, and about that, and about... that.

Yeeeeeah, if it's not massive spoilers, you probably want Matt to be a bit less tight-fisted about what happened to Joey's parents. Even if it's an oblique answer on the level of "I can't tell him about the accident" or something like that.

Alternatively, if this is genuinely a "story spoiler minefield"-tier topic, it might make sense to put serious thought as to whether this particular segment would function better from Joey's PoV, since in that case Mark hiding information both from him and the reader could potentially be executed a lot more organically.

This was going to suck.

"I don't think I can tell you that."

"What?" Joey said. "How come?"

"…Have you ever ripped off a bandage really slowly?"

Joey: "Matt, I have amnesia."
:what:

Matt: "Right, that's a thing. But the point is that it hurts like hell."

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

"Ah, shit, right…" Mathew sighed. "It's like this, Joey. There is a very good reason that I can't tell you anything. I just can't tell you that reason."

Matt, you realize that this is literally just going to make Joey want to know the full story behind what went down more, right?

Joey's expression became skeptical. "If you can't tell me how you know me, and you ain't able to tell me the reason why you can't tell me, then how do I know you really know me?"

[ ]

"Joey, would I lie to you?!" Mathew asked desperately.

Something about this bit feels like it needs more context to set up Matt's desperation here, since he wasn't anywhere close to "desperate" in his last line of dialogue, so this reads a bit "lightswitch"-y in terms of an emotional transition. Like show him go "oh crap, oh crap" in his mind a bit to tee up that "Would I lie to you?" bit

Joey: "I mean, you won't give me a straight answer about my ma and pa..."
:eltywtf:

Matt: "Look, declining to tell you truths you aren't ready to handle isn't the same as lying, alright?!" >_>;

"I've known you for about five minutes or so, and you've been acting crazier than a killer cat almost the whole time. I don't really have a reason to think you wouldn't lie to me."

[ ]

"I-I know you and I can prove it!" he exclaimed. "I knew your last name before you even said it! How do you explain that?" "I dunno, maybe I mumbled it when I introduced myself earlier," Joey countered. "I was barely thinking about what I said, looking for your stuff and all."

Another part where you should probably show off more of Mark's thought process if you're going to keep this bit in his PoV, since you kinda wanna show off that conflict between "dammit, Joey it's me" and whatever it is he's hiding from him.

"Ugh!" Mathew put his free hand against his skull mask in frustration. "This is hard for me too, you know? I really want to tell you. I really do. You're a good person and you don't deserve this."

Matt, you are aware that this phrasing is just going to get Joey to pester you over and over about what happened, right?

"You ain't the one who doesn't know who he is here!" Joey said. "You've got the memories. If I really didn't do anything bad, and you reckon we're friends, then you should tell me who I am!"

[ ]

"I… I… Look." Mathew pointed above him. "You see that backpack up there? It's not just my food and projects in there. I brought this scrapbook with me full of pictures of happy memories, and you're in it. If I show you once we get it down, will that make you believe me?"

[ ]

"I reckon it will!" Joey stomped his feet and proceeded to toss himself at the tree. This time, he grasped a branch on his first try.

These two moments both feel like they probably would've worked a bit better from having some showing more reaction or internal gears turning, since we've got Matt semi-relenting on digging his heels in on telling Joey about his past, while Joey's mood has taken a much more positive turn. I'm not fully sure if it comes through smoothly with just straight dialogue.

Also, this moment from Joey is going to end terribly, I can already tell.

Mathew realized what Joey was doing. "Wait," he said, putting a lid on his frustration the best he could. "Where are you going? I thought we were going to strategize first."

"Too late for that now!" he snapped. "That was before you told me something about myself was in there. If you ain't gonna tell me who I am, I'll go fetch it myself!" he leapt to another branch. He was scaling the tree much faster than before.

Guess you should start prepping the Oran Berries already, huh, Matt?

"Well if you're going to do that, can you at least take your time getting up there? You're gonna hurt yourself," Mathew told him. Joey didn't stop. "Joey? Joey!" No response. "And what are you going to do about the wingull—"

[ ]

"They're just birds, ain't they?!" he yelled. "They're just gonna peck me! I'll get pecked a hundred times if it means—"

Splash.

It wasn't a peck.

IMO, dropping in some interleaving description here would've livened things up a bit. Like for the suggested brackets, say... something like Joey looking back down with a confident / dismissive expression or something like that.

Lots of ways to cut up that apple though beyond that, though.

Though yeah, I guess I should expect Joey to fall out of the tree right about now, huh?

A ball of water, like a water balloon without the balloon part, was shot down from the branches straight at Joey, bursting on contact. With a cry of pain, he was knocked lost his grip and fell away from the tree.

"JOEY!"

Yeah, I figured. Though this is another instance where a conversion to active voice out of passive might sound a bit more dramatic. Went out on a limb here with the specific wording, but I'm sure there's other word choices that would've worked well.

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

Laughter erupted from above as they descended down. "Screeeee! You two just can't listen, can you?"

Ah yes, getting into a battle in which both of you are severely disadvantaged against your challengers. Totally gonna end well™️.

Though I wonder if that Pikachu from the cover is going to step out right about now, since... uh... yeah, now would be a good time for him to step out and help.

"Maybe if we give you more, you'll figure it out!" The birds circled around Joey, relentlessly tormenting his breathless body like he was in an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

I was going to call foul on this description, but this is Mark's PoV the narration is written from (I think, anyways), so it's actually pretty believable that he'd just casually frame comparisons in pop culture terms.

I do wonder if it'd have made sense to have made sense to make it a bit more explicit that it's The Birds Matt's thinking of, though. Since I'm not sureif everyone will reflexively get the reference there + is a chance to lean into "right, it's the dystopian 2070s (or whatever it is) now"

e.x. something like:
The wingull circled around Joey, relentlessly tormenting his breathless body like he was in that ancient Alfred Hitchcock movie with the killer birds his grandparents' grandparents might have seen a movie theater. Back when movie theaters still existed.

Since while Matt's an old fart of a protag, he's an old fart to which the stuff we take for granted today vibes like something from the 50s-70s to him, so stuff before that time is accordingly even more distant.

"You assholes!"

Mathew ran over and grabbed Joey's body, trying desperately to block shield the totodile from the wingull. One of them fired another splash grenade directly at Mathew's back. Its splatter landed everywhere but on Joey... including all over the now-cubone's body.

M
athew howled in pain. That was all from water?! It felt like his scales were being had just been burned and shredded by a furious acid. He looked down to see Joey's mouth gaped open, but he was the totodile gasping at a loss for air. His eyes were visibly wavering, with an expression something between that seemed equal parts horrified and apologetic.

Okay, so I went out on a limb for this block again, but mechanically, a lot of the verbs in this chunk read weirdly dry to me for whatever reason. Dropping in verbs that accomplish the same effect but in stronger terms and injecting more of Matt's thought process since this narration's is his PoV anyways might help bring out the "oh crap, oh crap, this is bad"-ness of this moment a bit more.

There might be other parts earlier on that I overlooked that would similarly benefit from pumping more of the character's perspective into the PoV since I think you're already writing this as a third person limited story to begin with, but I'll leave that for you two to decide if and how you want to deal with that.

Another water pulse struck him. Matthew didn't scream as loudly this time. The cubone's knees trembled from the agony, the water rolling down his back and dripping onto the ground, but he kept standing. He had to keep standing. He couldn't afford to fall, not when Joey was like this.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of them preparing a third. The wingull was aiming at Joey's other side, the one Mathew wasn't protecting. He threw himself forward in a dive, nearly smashing the snout of his mask into the dirt.

[ A splash SFX in between or something like that / push this up a sentence and make it Matt shouting "Joey!" ]

A direct hit, this time closer to his hip. That was almost enough to make him pass out. At the very least, he couldn't stand anymore.

The "like this" feels like it's missing something. Potentially something as simple as a single word. Like is Joey hurt from the fall (I didn't quite get that vibe from earlier since it wasn't described, but he did fall out of the tree)? Since if so "hurt like this" already makes it a bit clearer as to why Matt's freaking out so hard right now.

As for the "That was almost enough to make him pass out", it feels like something that would be better accomplished by showing it through some sort of sensory effect or something like that. Like is Matt's vision starting to waver? Is he having trouble moving his limbs? Something like that could've gotten the point across without saying to the audience "Matt was almost ready to pass out", which usually is the better route between the two for action-y scenes.

Three things happened then in rapid succession. First, Mathew heard behind him a fierce gasp. Joey was reanimating. Next, something sizzled through the air, and one of the wingull yelped. Mathew picked up the scent of what could only be that wingull's burnt feathers. Then, past his flickering vision, he saw something reach out for his hand. Joey again? No, that wasn't him. This hand was darker. Sleeker. Fluffier?

Wait, "reanimating"? Wouldn't that imply that Joey died earlier? Was this supposed to be something like "stirring"?

Though this new challenger’s the Pikachu, I can already tell. And probably the A-Meowth too given the "darker, sleeker, fluffier" thing reaching for him.

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

Well then, let's see what we're dealing with.

Mathew, with what little might he had left, grasped the wing. The wing pulled — man, this bird had a logic-defyingly strong grip — and brought him up. Another wing reached around and held him steady, his knees still about to give way. The cubone looked to his side and was met with a pair of red eyes. It wasn't a species he recognized. Its coat of feathers was a dark blue, almost navy, highlighted with red on the insides of the wings and the tips of its broom-like tail. Atop its head was a large, hat-like thing. A raven, maybe?

Ohai, Honchkrow. Talk about a timely save there.

"C-Can you stand…?" she asked him. Her expression was anticipative. She already knew the answer.

"Hell no."

She reached around his chest and moved the things from one wing to the other. Mathew looked down at them. A pair of blue spheres with spotty textures. Oran Berries.

"Eat one of these," she told him. "And g-give one to your friend."

Wait, am I tripping, or was Ms. Honchkrow there never described holding objects in general prior to this point? Was something accidentally cut from an earlier paragraph? Since I swear that I don't see any mention of her holding something earlier but "the things" here is written as if Matt saw her hold something prior to this.

"Hey, can I get some help?!" Another voice. That must've been whoever singed that wingull. He heard him grunt, probably dodging something. "I'm biting off more than I can chew here!"

Can't tell if Ms. Honchkrow is about to duck out for a quick fight, or if she's going to speed-patch Matt here.

"These wingull have a double weakness against your attacks. It's kind of sad that you have to bite less." There was a third voice now. This one was different, though. It sounded flat with only slight inflections giving way to any kind of emotion. It was automated and fake...the voice of a robot.

Oh, so no Pikachu. Since that sounds a lot more like Shinx or Electrike there from the "bite" mention.

"I-I'm on it!" the bird cawed back.

R
ight after Mathew chomped down on one of the berries, the raven let him go. It took mere seconds for the cubone to feel rejuvenated, and only a few seconds more for his back to no longer feel in pain. He pulled himself onto his feet and finally got a look at the other person who had come to their rescue.

To his surprise, it wasn't Not a fire type like he was expecting, but an electric type whose attacks had fried one of the bullies. It was a pikachu, and at that, one wearing odd apparel at that. He had a pair of Brown goggles wrapped around his forehead on top of a pink bandana with a pattern of flowers.

It was certainly a...striking look, that was for sure. Matthew had no clue as to who Whomever the third voice was, Mathew didn't see there didn't seem to be any sign of them right now.

Ah yes, another one of our protags has joined the chat.

Kinda went out on a limb here again, though in general, you want to be sparing with long block paragraphs in action scenes, since they have a way of making things feel plodding if there's too many of them. Might have been a bit aggressive at suggested splits here, but IMO there's at least three distinct thoughts in this paragraph that would work better as their own things:

- Honchkrow's line
- Matt coming to and starting to get up
- Matt seeing Pikachu over there

Also, it's a bit of a nitpick, but "the bullies" feels a lot more "Joey" in thought process than what I'd have expected from Matt as depicted thus far. Since that wording definitely vibes a lot younger and more innocent than a backyard inventor who's been through personal tragedy who drowns his sorrow in cheap booze than something more like "those damn birds" or something like that.

Mathew flexed his right hand and remembered the berry. The totodile was still recovering from the fall. He hurriedly slid the berry into Joey's maw, making sure to help him chew it. Joey groaned and rolled onto his side before pulling himself up.

"Screeeee! This isn't your fight, nerd!" one of the wingull berated the pikachu.

I'll break out the popcorn, since this isn't gonna end well for someone, and it's not the Pikachu I'm betting against.

"Okay, first, I don't have to ask questions to know you guys probably started this fight!" he said. "Second, how did you know I was a ner—wah!"

A hard gust suddenly swept up the pikachu and launched him into the air was swept up by a hard gust, mustered by the other wingull standing behind him, that launched him into the air. The wingull kept him there aloft, flinging him the Pikachu around yelping in his little hurricane like a plastic bag on the wind.

"Whoooa, whoa, whoa-whoa!"

Another passive -> active voice conversion attempt here. Also, I'd forgotten to mention it in a couple earlier blocks, but be careful with your pronouns in sentences dealing with multiple parties with a shared gender, since it can quickly become confusing as to who "him" is referring to, in this case, between the Pikachu and the Wingull.

"Bahahahahaha! Serves you right!" the chastising wingull jeered said, chuckling at the pikachu's misfortune.

"Gah!"

A gust of wind, loose from the wingull's torrent, blasted Mathew. He stumbled backwards and bumped into Joey.

"Mathew!" Joey caught his fall. "Are you okay?" Any lasting grudge from their previous banter seemed to have been put aside.

... Wait, is "Gah!" from Matt or the Pikachu there? If it's from Matt, you probably want to have him say that after some sort of paragraph, whether that's after him being hit by the wind, or else trying to do something to intervene in a fresh paragraph and then just getting Gust'd.

"Yeah, but…"

Mathew focused on turned his attention back to the in-flight pikachu for a moment more. The raven was now there, too strafing around the treacherous winds, looking for some kind of opening. It seemed like a fight was brewing.

"Joey, we should get some cover."

Reminder that Matt technically was depicted looking away from Pikachu getting vortex'd by getting Gust'd and then focusing on Joey. It might make sense to have him explicitly turn his attention back.

"I reckon that'd be a good idea, yeah." The two of them were already backing away. They slipped behind a bush and watched from afar.

"Y-You let go of him!" The raven charged at the grounded wingull, wings outspread.

Honchkrow: "Seriously?! How tanky are these stupid gulls?!"
:grohno~1:


"Maybe I will!" the wingull spat back.

T
he wingull stopped channeling wind and dropped into a readied stance. The pikachu yelled as he tumbled to the ground in a roll.

Soon enough, she was upon the bully, opening with a right wing slash. The wingull leapt to the side and responded in kind. An onslaught flurry of swinging blows began between the two birds, as if their wings were pairs of blades. With his aggressive approach and larger wingspan, the bully looked imposing, but only the occasional forward thrust actually hit the raven.

And yet, Matthew wasn't sure the Honchkrow was really worse off between the two. In spite of charging in first, she spent most of her time playing defense. She narrowly sidestepped out of the way of blows and ducked beneath his sideways swings. When he committed too much to an attack, she moved in to strike, but never overextended herself, only hurting as much as she needed it to hurt.

In the interest of not being a broken record, but see note re: bully if you decide that's not in-spec with Matt's PoV. The bigger issue I think is hacking this paragraph up to help with flow. You'll probably need a transition to pull it off, and I suggested a throwaway one, but I think you can arrive at this destination in a few different ways.

The pikachu, meanwhile, was having an entirely different kind of fight. He kept to a stance while his wingull soared around him, trying to pop off a watery attack. When an electric shock surged from him, the wingull would speed up and leave it in the dust. With the advantage Mathew's protector had over the adversary, the fight would be over in just a hit or two, but the gull certainly wasn't making it easy.

What stance exactly is Pikachu keeping here? Though see notes re: ambiguous pronouns, though I assume that you meant "the (Win)gull" for the "he" in "he certainly wasn't making it easy."

Mathew watched the two of them in awe. The raven's blend of ruthless efficiency with a degree of gentility and the pikachu's ability to rebound from falling so quickly showed an undeniable degree of skill.

…How often did these two fight?

Matt, you're a Pokémon. What have you been doing all this time for a year if you're this stunned at Pokémon fighting regularly? .-.

Using those long wings of his, the grounded wingull put some space between himself and the raven. Mathew could hear him pant, already tired out by the intense pace of their fight. It was then that the pikachu glanced away from the wingull speeding around him. Before the flying wingull could cry out, the Electric type launched a bolt towards the raven's fight. The Her wingull yelped and froze up, unprepared for an intervention. A swift shove to the ground by the raven only all but assured his defeat. With a She quickly leaned back, before she brought down her beak like a hammer to a nail with a sharp bonk. The bonked Her wingull splayed out after that, unconscious.

A few sundry suggestions here for tweaks for pronouns and verb tenses and the like.

The other wingull wailed. "Don't you dare touch him! Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" the other wingull wailed.

W
ith a burst of wind, he launched himself straight towards the raven. But that speed didn't get him far — the pikachu shot him down with a ball of electricity. The other wingull tumbled to the ground, too weak to move.

Matt:
giphy.gif

Joey: "Thanks for the save there. So... er... who are you anyways?" ^^;

"I really don't know what this pair of bumbling idiots expected to happen."

Here came that robotic voice again - this time, Mathew could see who it was. A green spherical object, with a wheel at its bottom, a single arcade-like claw at its side, and a red ball of an antenna at its top rolled up next to the collapsed wingull. Its bluish glass frame, which seemed to substitute for a face, reflected the eyes of the weak bird.

"You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. I am always astounded by the stupidity of dungeon pokémon."

Would suggest hacking that up into parts, but am I seeing a straight-up robot in this story right now? Since that's definitely different from the norm from this fandom if so.

"Hey, it's not like they can help it much!" the pikachu said. "The mystery dungeon messed them up."

"They still h-hurt people," the raven reminded him. "That's why...we still have to fight them."

Oh, so I guess they're more like semi-sapient ferals in this setting, and that there's Dungeon Madness in some capacity. Though that makes me wonder if these effects can theoretically be rehabilitated or if they're just stuck like this.

All the while, Mathew watched the wingull once in flight reaching out for his fellow bully before going down himself. Karmic justice. He couldn't help but smile.

"Hey!" Joey shouted at their group of saviors. They turned their attention to the two of them, only now stepping away from the bush. "Is it safe for us to come out now?"

Pikachu: "I'm sorry, you two weren't helping us earlier why?"
:typhNOsion:

Joey: "We were kinda badly torn up and figured you were doing a better job at not getting your hides tanned?" ^^;

"Oh, for sure!" the pikachu said. "It's all under control now. You're safe!" When Mathew and Joey emerged fully from the bush, he and the raven approached welcomingly. He outstretched a hand towards Mathew first. "I'm Jermy. You must be Mathew, right?"

"Yeah, that's me." The cubone shook hands with the pikachu. "Nice to meet you, Jeremy."

"It's Jermy."

Oh, so we have a name. Though I did a double take at "Jermy". So it's not a typo there.

Mathew snickered a bit. After his laughter came a cutting silence. "…Oh, you're serious. Uh, sorry?"

Joey: "(Matt, not helping.)" >_>;
Matt: "(Look, in my defense since you can't remember it, but 'Jermy' is a name that makes you sound like a total dweeb in the world we came from-)"
Jermy: "You two do realize that I have sensitive hearing, right?"
:eltywtf:


Joey stepped in to break the awkward tension. "Thanks for helping us, y'all."

Jermy broke off from the handshake to give one to Joey. "And you have to be Joey! Don't worry about us. We're pros at handling goons like these rascals!" he boasted.

Matt: "Explain you getting airtime from that Hurricane or whatever it was."
Jermy: "Pros stumble sometime. At least I wasn't a move away from getting knocked into next week." >:|

"I w-wouldn't say we're all that great, but...we did get the job done." The raven offered her wing for Mathew and Joey to shake just the same as Jermy. Unlike Jermy, she kept the exchanges brief and silent. "M-My name's Demurke. It's nice to meet you both."

Filing that one away as well, though I have to wonder what the rules of naming are on Solceus, since Jermy and Demurke's names both feel a lot less off the shelf than Joey and Matt's.

"So…"

Mathew clicked his tongue. How did one respectfully ask for the name of their species? Was it a casual question, or were people just supposed to look that up themselves? He decided to try a subtle press.

"Jermy the pikachu, and Demurke the…"

Demurke seemed to catch his drift. "No need to worry about asking," she said. "I'm a murkrow! The dye makes me a l-little hard to figure it out, I know."

I... didn't see that coming. Though I suppose in retrospect I should've considering how Demurke was mentioned as having a shorter wingspan than a Wingull.

Though wait, hasn't Matt been here for a year? Since I could've sworn there was an earlier part of the chapter where he said he'd been here for a year. Wouldn't he already logically know the naming etiquette of Solceus? Or has he only been bumping into ferals or something like that?

Murkrow. A crow? "So you're not a raven," he thought aloud. "You're like, the level below a raven."

"Yep! No ravens here."

Corviknight: "Am I a joke to you?"
:CAW:

Demurke: "You didn't exist at the time our authors wrote this chapter, go away." >v>;

"You thought she was a raven?" Joey said. "That's silly."

The small robot rolled up to Joey. "Unfortunately, some people have better things to do than identify bird species. I don't believe Jermy could've told you if she was a raven or a crow if her name didn't give it away."

"Hey, cut me some slack!" Jermy said. "I would've gotten it if I had three guesses. Or maybe five."

Oh, so the box thingy really is a robot. Though I see that ornithology isn't Jermy's strong suit as an intellectual type.

Joey ignored Jermy's defense. "How do you know the difference, then?" he asked him.

"First, I have an intelligence higher than the airheads I'm surrounded by," the robot said. "Second, I have access to countless encyclopedias and databases that explain these concepts."

... Actually, I just realized, but how is Mark reacting to all of this anyways? Like has he run into these two Pokémon species in the past, or are they all-new to him barring residual memories of the franchise in his world? And are robots like this commonplace in his world, or are they nonexistent / rare enough that he'd be dorking out about it / wondering "wait, how'd you get one of these?"

"Databases? Does that mean you're a robot?"

There was a pause, as if Joey just asked the dumbest question possible. "It means I'm the president. No, of course I'm not a pokémon." "I made him a couple years ago," Jermy explained. "His name is—"

"I can introduce myself," he interrupted. "I am the Observational Recreation Buddy, abbreviated ORB, version 4.8, capable of performing functions including identification verification, data and social analysis, combat assistance…"

Oh, ho. This I've got to see, though robot buddy officially has a name here. Though for whatever reason, it feels like we've been kinda drifting out of Matt's PoV up to this point. Maybe it's the lack of thought commentary from him recently or something.

"Man, that's really cool!" Mathew said. "I used to—"

"Combat success probability checks, informational storage, pokémon combat matchup comparisons…"

[ ]

"Um…" Demurke tried to say. "I think th-they understa—"

"Pokémon romantic matchup comparisons…"

[ ]

"Yeah, that's enough," Jermy interrupted.

-snerk-

Though I feel like some reactions / "wat"-ness from Matt and Joey might've milked the comedy value of this exchange a little harder, especially ORB's casual mention that he's programmed with matchmaking functionality.

"Fine, be that way," ORB replied. The sassy energy radiating from Jermy's creation only cemented the strange presentation Mathew felt he was giving him. "I will now perform standard scans." A light behind ORB's front made the robot spring to life. "Activating aural camera… Analyzing unrecognized aural signals…"

Yeeeeeeeah, that's something that could've used more of a glimpse of that "wat"-ness going on in Matt's head since this is basically just told to us, but we don't really get to see it all that much.

"Aural signals?" Joey asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, this is just so he knows who you are," Jermy explained.

"Will you two shut up and let me perform my scans?" ORB asked. Joey was stunned into silence. "Cleaning up… Analysis complete. Species identified: cubone, totodile. Both entities are of Earthen origin. Files for M. Walker and J. Johdaile have been created."

Matt: "... Wait, how in the hell did you make this thing when you two aren't wearing clothes? (And why on earth did you give it Claptrap's personality?)" .-.
Jermy: "Heh, helps when you've got a good toolset and a lot of determination."

Johdaile… "Right. That reminds me…" Mathew looked up. The backpack was still up there, taunting them.

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

"We ain't sure, either," Joey said. "I was trying to fetch it back so that Mathew and I could split some lunch and...other things. That's why those seagulls wanted to beat us up."

Demurke: "Oh, well it'll be an easy fix for me, at least!" ^v^

"That s-sounds about right." Demurke spread out her wings. "I'll go get it for you."

A light wind coursed beneath the crow's wings, and with a jump, she took flight. With concise, simple wingbeats, she quickly made it to the backpack's level. She glanced down to gander at Mathew's pile, fortunately undisturbed by the previous fight, before shoving it off the branch. It tumbled down and landed safely in the pile.

... Wait, so is Demurke still affected by shiny-hoarding instincts like in the Pokédex? Since I'm now morbidly curious as to if she'd have stopped and
:riowolu:
-ed at Matt's bag in some universe where he happened to have shiny stuff poking out the flap.
:loltias:


"There we go!" he exclaimed.

He Matthew studied it for a moment, checking for any notable damage, and found none. Gleefully, he unzipped the largest flap [and looked back at Joey or something like that].

"First things first…" He dug through the backpack until he grasped something rectangular. He pulled it out, and there it was: the scrapbook. Still baby blue and still missing a photo for the plastic cover sleeve, but certainly a bit bigger in the cubone's hands than before.

"Let's see here." He quickly flipped through the pages. "Not there, not there — a-ha!"

There was the photo he was looking for. It was of two boys at a birthday party. One of them was wearing a green cowboy hat. Mathew turned the book around and pointed it towards Joey, his hand on the subject picture of interest.

"You see this?"

This feels like another one of those paragraphs that should be exploded into several smaller ones. This suggestion might be overkill, but it definitely feels like at least 3 paragraphs' worth of stuff was crammed into this one.

Joey looked at the photo intensely. "Yeah. My hat…"

"Yep! That's you! Clear, definitive proof. Does that make you feel any better?"

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

inb4 he asks "but what happened to everyone else?" in 3... 2...

[ ]

"Wonderful. Okay! With all that out of the way..." Mathew shoved the scrapbook back into the backpack, rummaged around, and… "Lunch!" He pulled out a large brown paper bag triumphantly.

"Yaaay!" Demurke exclaimed. She seemed more relieved at the two's evident resolution than enthused at their meal. Mathew could relate.

Jermy, on the other hand, was much more eager. "Show us the grub, Mathew!"

If Matt's got a "oh thank god, that was enough to satisfy him", it might be worth bringing that up a bit here, since Matt was really evasive about Joey's family earlier, and I'm honestly a little surprised that Joey hasn't made everything awkward by asking about the others in the photo just yet.

"Heeeeere's a chicken leg!" The cubone pulled out a large, baseball bat-shaped hunk of meat. "Going to the hungriest of them all…" He offered it to Joey.

"Delicious!" The totodile reached out and took the fried thing — first with two hands because Mathew gave it to him backwards, then with one when he flipped it around to something better resembling a handle. He immediately took a massive bite out of it.

"And I'll just…" Mathew pulled out a plastic baggie. "Take this sandwich."

So... how
:wtfuckle:
is Demurke at that chicken leg right about now? :V

Jermy leaned towards him in anticipation. "Aaaaaand…?"

[ ]

"D-Didn't Mathew explain that he split the meal with Joey?" Demurke said. "I thought that m-meant it was just for…"

"Aww, man!" Jermy pouted. "That's a shame."

Might make sense to have some interaction between Matt/Joey and Jermy here. Since I would imagine that their digging in probably paused at least briefly after this to give a
:fearfullaugh~1:
reaction back or something.

"You already had breakfast this morning," ORB reminded him. "For that matter, you have already overclocked your daily diet twice in the past week."

"Yeah, but I worked up a sweat electrocuting those wingull!"

Wow, ORB really does everything given that he's apparently an effective health / diet tracker. Though that makes me wonder if he moves around at all during dialogue or if he's stiff and largely stays still since he's a robot.

"Well, Jermy, for working so hard, you can have a water bottle. Same for you, Demurke."

Mathew pulled two out of his backpack and tossed one to each. Finally, he sat down next to Joey, who had demolished half of the black meat already, and munched into the half of the sandwich pulled out of the baggie. Relief!

The gooey goodness of peanut butter coated the tops, bottoms, and middles of his mouth. He didn't care that his hands were covered in it, too — the small meal made his elongated mouth and throat so much easier to get used to.

... Isn't this sandwich giant compared to Matt right now given that he's like 1'6"? Or did he deliberately size it for a Cubone before making the jump?

"Um…" Demurke was staring at him.

Mathew froze, leaving the sandwich half removed, slowly sliding back down into the baggie as they slipped down his peanut butter-coated fingers. "Did you...put p-peanut butter on both sides of the bread?"

Matt: "Yeth? Andh?" :?

"Donmmm fucmmmg judmmmge!"

Mathew exclaimed. He set the sandwich aside, reached into his paper bag and pulled out a third bottle of water. It took a second to comfortably slip it under his mask, but it was worth it to clear the substance from his mouth.

"Look, I have a lot of peanut butter and I don't want to waste it. Anyways, what about you two? What's your stories? Where do you put the peanut butter on your sandwich?"

I like how even in another world, Matt's getting others judging his habits. :V

"The two of us are members of the Scientific Activity and Engagement Society!" Jermy said.

"…The what?" Joey asked. He was already almost finished with the leg.

Matt: "That didn't answer the question-"
:what:

Jermy: "Trust me, this is a more interesting answer anyways."

"Common name: SEAS," ORB elaborated. "We're here to prepare you for recruitment into the organization's focal initiatives."

[ ]

"Oh! So this must be the 'thing in return' that ball of light mentioned I needed to do," Mathew said.

This probably could've benefited from a reminder to the readers about what this was about, since it's been over 8000 words since then without this really having come up earlier in the chapter.

"You'd be correct," Jermy said. "Usually they only send out one guy to help new recruits, but since you're kind of a special case, Mathew, I'm here to be your cool guide!"

"Oh, really?" Mathew bit into his sandwich again, then washed it out. "What makes me so damn special?"

"It's because you have… Um… Hmm." Jermy pondered for a moment.

Jermy: "I mean, if the briefing I got was right, you built a portal to our world, so..."
:joltyshrug~1:

Matt: "What, you're telling me that's not how people approached by that ball of light thing normally get here?"

"Jermy, you can just say I'm normal. No big deal. I won't tell your boss or whoever you didn't treat me like a saint."

"It's not that! It's—"

[ ]

"What Jermy is trying to say with the articulation of a middle schooler cruising through English class with a D grade," ORB said, " is that your large breadth of study in the field of computer engineering will eventually land you a job very close to the top positions in the science division," ORB said, "That is unusual compared to the average SEAS recruit. David has taken a noticeable interest in you."

Would recommend dropping in some description here, and moving ORB's speech tag slightly, since the "D" comment and the first part of the dialogue right after the speech tag feel like they're the sort of thing that would be said in one breath.

"David?" Mathew said. It didn't take long to register. D. "His last name wouldn't happen to start with an E, would it?"

"Yup, Emmons!" Jermy said. "He's one of my bosses."

Oh, guess we won't have to wait long at all to run into D.E. in this story.

"Erm…" Joey spoke up, having set the clean bone aside. "Where does that put me? I ain't any kind of a scientist, as far as I know."

"Th-That's what I'm here for!" Demurke told him. "I'm from SEAS' business division, which m-means I'm gonna help both of you get a-accustomed to...lower level jobs."

"I reckon that's more for me than for Mathew."

It's going to be janitorial work, isn't it? Though something about this bit feels like it'd benefit from body language, just not sure where it'd work best, though.

"Most likely…" she said. "A-Actually, I won't be around too much, s-since I have a part-time job I have to attend to from time to time. B-but if you ever have questions, I'm a-always happy to answer them!"

"Well, thanks for that," Mathew said simply as he finished the last of his sandwich.

"O-Oh, and about your second question? I-I'm pretty sure both of us put the peanut butter in the m-middle like normal people," Demurke teased.

Cue Matt spit taking in 3... 2...

"You heathen!" he exclaimed, spittle from his swig of water flinging from his mouth. She chuckled at his exaggerated response.

Yuuup, I called it. :V

"Wait," Joey said. "If y'all are the ones handling this whole thing, does that mean you know where my parents are?"

"...You mean your parents aren't here?" The humor in Demurke's tone drained out, leaving worry.

Joey stood up. "They ain't. That's why Mathew and I were bickering in the first place."

Joey: "Speaking of which, whatever did happen to ma and pa, Matt?" ^^;
Matt:
:uhhh:


[ ]

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that… I w-wouldn't know where they are."

Joey frowned. "Rats…" Mathew noticed Jermy turn towards him, only to shake his head and return to checking up on his creation.

[ ]

"Hey, how about this? Whenever I g-get some time freed up, I'll go and ask around to see if a-anybody's seen them," Demurke said. "If they c-came to Solceus, then there's n-no way we can't find them."

Something something, would like to see more of Demurke's body language here since I get the feeling that you two had a certain image in mind for how she'd behave or the like, but it doesn't really come through.

[ ]

"...Okay," he mumbled.

Ditto here with Joey (I assume) being obviously downcast.

"Anyhow!" Jermy cut in. "Before we do anything serious, we're going to run you through this menial job called the Pick-it Up Club. They clean trash from mystery dungeons!"

"SEAS wants us to clean trash?" Mathew said, a mixture of surprise and excitement touching his tongue as his head raised back up. "That's nothing!"

Wow, I was joking about the janitorial duty comment.
:hoodLUL:


"Yeah! It'll be easy. I've got some employees of theirs waiting on us—" Jermy suddenly jumped the tracks of his train of thought. "Oh! I almost forgot! I wanted to show you guys something!" Jermy turned in the direction of an incline in the forest and started making his way forward. ORB wheeled next to him, snapping twigs and leaves with his wheel.

"Oh!" Demurke said. "Is this the view of—"

"Don't spoil it for them! I—" Jermy fumbled. "I want it to be a surprise. Mind the exposed root, by the way."

Oh, so they are near civilization right now. Time to get a good view of what that looks like in this story.

Mathew and Joey climbed to their feet, leaving their belongings behind for the moment, and followed Jermy and ORB with Demurke. The walk was slow, as the group was still tuckered out from fighting the wingull. It only became slower as the hill became steeper. Mathew almost asked to turn back, but when they reached the top, that thought eroded.

When the cubone had first discovered that he was venturing to a world of pokémon, he had imagined quiet villages with cute little huts and sparse populations. Mathew couldn't have been more wrong. Directly below him were some of those smaller hut-type homes, standing atop ridges carved into the side of a cliff — but below that was a whole 'nother world. Bright neon signs, busy dirt-trodden streets, two-story buildings crafted out of brick and sheetrock with steel roofs which gleaned the light of the sun towards his eyes…to his left, a pair of small docks populated with ships of many sizes enclosing a beautiful strip of beach...and to his right, scaling from the center of the cliff that surrounded everything down to the core of the town, were the wires of a gondola lift.

Well that's definitely different from your average PMD setting. That's got to be the highest tech one I've seen right after some of the ones from PoV.

"That's one purty town," Joey remarked.

"Yeah…" Mathew couldn't bring any meaningful commentary — the only adjective he had to describe the view was 'beautiful.'

If you two ever get the spare dosh lying around, you ought to commission this scene sometime, since I get the feeling it'd make for a good art piece.

"Right?!" Jermy exclaimed. "I knew getting your blind reactions out of the way was a great idea!" The pikachu smiled. "Welcome to Kalmwa'er!"

"And before you say a word, there is no emphasis on the T," ORB said. "I repeat: there is no emphasis on the T."

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

... Wait, so Kalmwa'er has a 't' in its name formally? Since that seems to be what ORB's dialogue is implying.

Mathew kept his eyes on Kalmwa'er. If this was the preliminary location, he could only imagine how incredible the paradise that awaited after he fulfilled his obligations would look. Frankly, he was about ready to stop here — this town seemed flawless already.

inb4 it's a craphole at street level, since we've seen that they're not exactly top percentage at managing their litter.

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

At the town's front, bordering its beach, was a large, tall pillar of a building, painted with a pale color resembling a shade of skin. It easily towered over the rest of the town — at five or six stories, it was almost equal in height to the cliffs. There was a sign plastered upon it that read Kalmwa'er Resort: Your NEW home for all things Kalmwa'er! Clearly it was some kind of hotel, which made sense — who wouldn't want to cash in on that tourist housing fund?

But something about the building gave him an odd feeling. He wanted to say it was just because it was so tall, but it felt like there was another reason, like somehow this business had missed some kind of memo.

So should I be imagining this place as more "Waikiki modernist box" or "Miami art deco"?

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

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

Yeah, I guess someone in the hospitality industry would care about trash just piling up and scaring off the tourists. Though I suppose next time's when we get a proper introduction to this guy.

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

"The idiots who put that sign up forgot that a beach town needs a lot of neon," ORB pointed out.

"Oh! That's it!" Mathew almost mask-palmed at the realization. How hadn't he realized that before? "It must look really ugly at night." Quickly the strange thought faded away. It was just a sign. There was nothing to worry about! All that was in the way of paradise was a paradise in itself.

It has deeper issues than a lack of neon signage, doesn't it?

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

And since when had his feelings ever led him astray?

:copyka:


I'm only going to be minorly surprised if this place turns out to be Roanapur-tier next chapter.

Alright, took a while, but time to get to that postmortem:

I'm of two minds really, since while the story is very distinct and I felt Chapter 1 did a good job cutting a unique profile, it had some issues with it that I felt undercut the dynamic a bit.

But those issues can wait a bit, let's focus on the stuff that I thought were done well first. First off, you two have mentioned in the past that DE is a very different PMD than normal, and honestly, you thus far have been delivering decently well on that. The setting is a really rare bird in terms of tech level in this fandom, and I can't say I've ever read a PMD story where ORB or something like him is a thing, or the human world's state being as intertwined with the plot's main driver (or at least not anywhere near as openly from the jump of the story). Not even PoV has that in its more modernized chunks of its setting. So I'm definitely interested in seeing more of Kalmwa'er and I'm interested in seeing more of it since you could really go to town with building a world that's "familiar, but different" to the one we live in full of cartoon animals with superpowers.

I thought that there was some decent work introducing the characters, and all of them cut fairly distinct profiles. Matt and Jermy are both "nerd" archetypes, but cut from different molds that make them vibe as "foils" to each other. Joey and Demurke kinda feel they have something similar going on as junior partners, with Joey being the more extroverted and hotheaded of the two with Demurke being the more introverted and nervous of the two. ORB I need to see a bit more of, but thus far, he's been pretty entertaining as a snarker.

Though I suppose now would be a good time as any to get onto the issues. For low-hanging fruit issues, the main things are that you seem to drift into passive tense at times when active tense would likely work more effectively. That, and a number of paragraphs are a couple paragraphs' worth of ideas all bundled together that would probably work better broken up. Both things that could likely be fixed relatively easily with a light stepthrough.

There are also some issues that I think are a bit more structural, and while they can mostly be addressed by additive editing, I understand aren't necessarily easy fixes. The number one bone that I have to pick with this chapter is that it's really light on description, both in scene setting and in getting into the characters' heads for their PoV, especially in the second scene. Like there are just large chunks of it that are effectively an extended dialogue with not a whole lot breaking it up that makes the text a bit dense to read at times and hard to visualize at others.

The other structural bone I have to pick is that the second scene is long enough that I kinda wonder if it'd have worked better as two, or even three scenes. Since offhand, the scene basically has 4 separate subscenes occur in it with no breaks:

- Matt and Joey meeting and discovering the fate of his bag
- Matt and Joey backing off and brushing up against how Joey's life is apparently a sensitive topic
- The fight with the Wingull
- The meet and greet with Jermy, Demurke, and ORB Now granted, sometimes a scene just needs to get done in one take, even if it's long, but a couple of the side effects of it was that:

A: The events of each part of the scene were kinda starting to blur together, and had there been more description dropped into it, it'd have been even longer without breaks
B: Since this story is written in third person limited perspective, it feels like we got to learn a lot more about Matt and how he ticks than we did Joey, which I'm not sure was wholly intentional.

But altogether, I'd say that I liked the chapter @LukerUpgradez + Dommy if you’re reading this, even if there are some clear rough edges. Dunno if you'll polish those at some point or just keep pressing onward, but hey. DE's definitely a story that stands out. And I look forward to seeing more of it.
 

zion of arcadia

too much of my own quietness is with me
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. marowak-alola
Murry Chrimblmus, Luker. I’m your secret santa this year, so gonna do a thorough read through of chapter three. Now, I admit, at the start I felt a bit lost, so went back to refresh myself on the first two chapters--and was still somewhat lost until I realized we were coming at this from a brand new POV. Once I figured that out a lot started clicking into place.

My favorite part of the chapter was how Meowth’s paranoia bled into everything. Given we only view events from his perspective, it creates this ambiguity as we’re left to figure out how much is an overreaction from others and how much is legitimate. Mostly it comes across legitimate, but there’s just enough there to create a hint of doubt. That Matthew and Jermy side with Meowth adds another layer of uncertainty that’s interesting to muddle through and figure out.

Quite a few new characters were introduced as well. The first time around I had a hard time keeping track of everyone, but on my second read they all clicked pretty smoothly into place. I especially liked the little sing-off around the chapter’s middle section. It was entertaining and a great character moment for both Matthew and Politoad and Breloom. Plus the ending, when Meowth described it as cringe in contrast to the clapping, was very funny. Nice way to hedge your bets, lol.

Mr. Persian is a bit of a mystery at the moment. He definitely gives off strong yuppie vibes, and Meowth really doesn’t trust him at all, but Mr. Persian also comes across as genuinely wanting to help his son. It’s that unreliable narration clouding events and creating questions, which is exactly what you want from an unreliable narrator.

Themes: Environmentalism continues to play a major role so far. I really like the idea of a club devoted to picking up trash, and having everyone start off there. It’s a lowkey bit of worldbuilding that emphasizes previously raised issues and gives us a reason to explore the town and beach in more depth. We also see the beginning of an exploration of a father-son dynamic in Meowth-Persian; Joey’s father is also supposed to be around somewhere, and I could see those familial relationships ultimately acting as foil to one another to interrogate the notion of fatherhood. We might also see Matthew step in as a pseudo-father figure for Joey and Meowth.

I have two main criticisms that I settled on. The first is that there’s a lot of dialogue. Not necessarily a bad thing, but there were times when characters would speak and the lines would sound clunky and overly-expository because we needed insight into their thought processes without breaking POV. It made me wonder if either there should’ve been more perspective shifts or if an omniscient point of view would’ve worked better.

There also perhaps could have been more description and better scene setting. There were moments that worked really well, like the description of Mr. Persian’s club or when Breloom and Politoad were getting into the music, but most of our shifts into prose just turned into Meowth internal monologues about his colleagues or his father. I picked this paragraph to demonstrate how we could’ve expanded somewhat on descriptions:

The Club made their way through the fancy upper half of town to the central edge of the cliffside, where the landing platform for the gondola awaited them. They were barely able to fit together, but carefully planting Politoed, Breloom, and Joey between the others made it work. They continued their small talk over the new employees, the job difficulty, and other menial things. Meowth tuned it all out — none of it was useful. A couple blocks and a few streets later, and there they were, standing in the shadow of Meowth's father's creation. A glass-built sliding door awaited their approach.​

What differentiates the fancy upper half from the rest? If we’re going to explore differences in class through Mr. Persian and Meowth, we should try and establish that right away. If they all barely fit on the gondola, that would surely make for an uncomfortable experience, yes? How can we better convey that through prose? If anything, that they resumed small talk makes it sound like there was no inconvenience at all. I want to know in detail what riding a gondola is like!

That’s about everything, I think. Happy holidays! A poem for your hard work:

The road ends at the seawall—
Past love
Dissolves in salt and hollow winds

The eye widens to the long
Casual coastline, foam mosaic
That waver, drift apart

The eye learns love from light

A white expanse of beach
Pure, unmixed as fire
That a fingertip would plunge
Into history

The eye learns love from light

-- Pier’s End by Mark Kirschen
 

Navar

Professional Mudkip Lover
Location
Brazil
Pronouns
He/Him
Partners
  1. swampert
  2. chesnaught-apron
  3. lucario-mega
Chapter 5
Alright, it’s been a while since I reviewed this fic before, but I remember enough of it. Anyway, this was a chapter focused on a bunch of action, and with so many characters, it got a little confusing on who was who(probably also because I haven’t read this in a while, my bad), so I’m not going in depth with what I thought of each one, instead, I’ll focus on a few that I thought were the highlights for me, personally.

First, Joey. Seeing him struggle in wanting to both prove himself and get back his hat was fun; he doesn’t know how to fight(or use a basic attack like Water Gun), so obviously the odds were never in his favor. Still, I’m glad he tried anyway, being careful wasn’t really gonna help him, and neither was doing nothing. It didn’t really matter all that much, but it was a nice moment to read.

Breloom, Politoed and Minichino. They’re far more experienced and know what they’re doing, but what mattered to me was how they didn’t treat the rookies like Joey and Mathew badly. It’s important that they know the two have a lot to learn, so good work on that.

And Joey spilled the beans about being human, huh? Quite early, not that it’s a bad thing. Everyone did seem to take the information well, so there’s nothing I can really complain about that part of the chapter. All in all, I thought Palossand acting like a knight was very funny too, and the comment about his dialect got a chuckle out of me. He even gave everyone a little bit of trouble(and stole Joey’s hat, how rude). A nice enemy for them to fight at this stage in the fic, and a good chapter. Nice work there Luker.

Chapter 6

Hm, this one's pretty dense, isn't it? No matter, my opinions remain quite positive. I think working on less characters did wonders for the story, and there's a big elephant in the room that's addressed in this chapter, which I'll dedicate an entire paragraph to talk about, so here I go.

Mathew and Meowth. This was... something, alright. I didn't expect him to try and drug the guy; it's very, err, bad of a thing to do. Luckily, the chapter doesn't gloss over it, and there's consequences to it, of course. Both because Mathew wants to get the hell away from the entire thing, and because Meowth realized he messed up real bad. Granted, he could try to fix it just to keep his license, but he does want to be Mathew's friend, and that was sweet of him. He did need Joey's help to realize it, but now that they're working on it, I'm sure it'll come out just fine.

There's also the thing about this world having italian restaurants. I doubt these are the first humans to appear, so I believe others introduced Italian cuisine to the world of DE. Nothing really wrong with it, but I was taken aback by it, even if it was just a little.

I do wanna say the cast of characters feels good to read, particularly Joey(I'm a huge fan of cowboys and totodiles). It intrigues me to see how strong he'll get over the course of the fic. With all the training, he's bound to. That is, if the training doesn't get interrupted by Meowth and Mathew's beef. Like I said, I'm sure it'll be resolved sooner or later. It should feel natural, and I'm glad it didn't end in a single chapter. Keep up the good work, team(I realized I only thanked Luker when I finished typing the review for chapter 5, lol)

Chapter 7

Alrighty, this one was easier for me to digest, and despite being a rather short chapter, I think I understood it pretty well.

First, having the cast watch an episodic TV show was more fun than I thought it'd be, so good job on that, lol. It was just a segment of the chapter, but I kinda like these kinds of things in fics, don't see it that often, so it's always a treat to see.

Anyway, it expands on the conflict established by the previous chapter, and taking a glimpse of what the scrapbook has was a treat, too. Especially considering hwo different Pokémon habits are, if they don't have the same concept of marriage as we have(also I almost forgot about Briana! Or her original self, that is. Nice to see her happy in fic, haha). I almost wonder if Meowth really does want to make amends, or if Mathew's right in that he doesn't really have good intentions. I think it could go either way, though I'm hoping it's genuine. However... part of me thinks Mathew might be right.

It's sad to see him and Joey having a falling out so early, but I guess it makes sense in context of what's going on. There's no larger plot here, so the biggest source of conflict seems to be this. It might take a few more chapters to resolve, though. I think it'll get worse before getting better, like many real life issues.

Overall, a nice, short chapter that was easy to process. Here's hoping the entire situation can be resolved. I like this conflict, feels a little mundane, but in a world of magical creatures, that's fair enough, haha. Once more, a banger chapter. Liked it, and the world is still interesting to me. Good job on this.

Chapter 8

Oh wow, this was very easy to read. There isn't much going on, but one thing I do wanna focus on is that Demurke's dad showed up! A Pidgeot! I love Pidgeot! And he seems like an important character, judging by how he treated Joey and Mathew. I imagine that news travel fast in this setting, if it's only been four days and he's well aware of what's been going on. Either that or him being high-ranking makes it easier on him to find out information. Anyway, he does seem to be a little rough on the way he treats them. Considering how anxious poor Demurke is, I wouldn't blame her. Still, I quite like this character. I'm hoping he'll have a bigger presence on the following chapters, which he probably will, knowing he's essentially their boss, even if he does have a boss of his own. There's a still a lot of stuff I don't know, and that in itself is exciting too.

Granted, they all acted in some strange ways. Still, I feel there's more to this, there's some stuff that's missing, I think. I'm very excited to see where this is going and what the main plot will be(not in a rush to find that out, though). Of course, the implication is that the next chapter will involve another fight, so I have that to look forward to. I wonder if this will come out fine or if this team is gonna have more trouble... I'm betting on the latter, but the former would be good too.

Despite being a much shorter chapter, I still very much enjoyed this. Bite sized, I believe. If anything, the shorter content made me want to get into reading the next one right away. It's quite the intriguing story, so yet again, good work. You guys have a great story on the making.

Chapter 9

Ah, I also thought it was gonna be fighting instead of a game show. Good play there. And whoever wrote a reference to "Do you like waffles?" has my applause... and my anger. I can't get the song out of my head now! Well played there, I also got disoriented because of it. And this chapter is big again! Took me a while to get through it but I'm still having the opinion that all of the chapters so far have been pretty good. This one isn't any exception, and the whole game show was a treat from start to finish.

First, using a show as the way they must prove themselves is a stroke of genius. I didn't even consider that! As for the contents of the show... well, they're nice. There's definitely tension, with the announcer reminding how much time passed and all, it was easy to follow, and the telekinesis display at the start was well done(I did expect a psychic to do it, and being proven right was great). The idea of kicking Mathew to get the boxes back was also a great counterplay, and also funny because it was so unexpected I had a great time laughing. It's good stuff.

Joey is, uh, not okay in this chapter. He seems to be having the worst time there, with all the pressure to build the gun. I guess with them both being humans and regular Pokémon not knowing what a gun is(despite having a move named Water Gun), his plan does make sense. Of course, it all ended with someone getting knocked out, so I dunno how this entire thing will conclude. I am, of course, rooting for Joey and Mathew to succeed. They make a good duo and their interactions are always fun. Still a great chapter all around.

Chapter 10

Great chapter here. It's a little slow to get through, but that isn't really a problem that made me think it dragged on. It's nice to see because the contents of the chapters are still very good, so the size of it doesn't really matter to me. I still quite like this chapter, so I'll focus my thoughts on it. There's a few things I want to say.

Well, it's nice to see that Mathew is fine, he just got knocked out, but oh well, Reviver Seeds do their stuff I suppose. But uh, they didn't win the show, did they? It doesn't sound like they did, to be honest.

That's the president... I feel like she's been mentioned before(my memory is bad, don't worry, it's not a complaint), and she's a penguin now, which is cool. It's funny that you guys took the time to make fun on the fact Empoleon is based off of Napoleon, and so they're short(even if, if I remember correctly, the actual Napoleon was regular-sized). It's what she says that's interesting, but what I really found fun was the memory impriting thing. Good way of explaining how they've been turned into Pokémon, but it does beg the question of what happened to their original, human bodies. Did they just... rot? I dunno, maybe I missed something. Happens more often than you'd think.

Anyway, the highlight of this one for me is the stealth mission with Meowth. There's some conspiracy going and him taking action? Great stuff there. I'm not sure if I'd call this a subplot or not, but it's fine. Was fun to read anyway. As more secrets are unraveled, more of the world is known. This piqued my curiosity, and I feel like I'm already very invested in this story, really, it's great to read.

Chapter 11

Okay, there's a lot to unpack here. First, right at the start, I believe the scene with Joey on his own was well-handled. Being bored sounds awful, especially when you have options of entertaining. It was probably worse because he's still very much a fish out of wather in Solceus. At least he decided to do something instead of just, I dunno, staying there and doing nothing at all. Shows he's got initiative, at the very least. I also really liked the narration explaining what each of his friends was doing if he wanted their company, thought it was kinda funny, haha.

Also fun that Joey is at least a little smart, enough to come up with an excuse(not that it was a great excuse, but better than no excuse at all) for searching for the type stone. Figured I should mention that too.

Now, for the main thing about this chapter that I enjoyed. Well, two things. One: lore. Getting to know more about the world finally happened! I just hope this isn't like a cult or something. That'd be crazy, right? Anyway, the story of the war is neat, I'll say that. And I knew OCEAN was hiding something, I could just feel it. Hell of an acronym, though. There's really a conspiracy going on, huh? Probably involving the president too. Second thing: Breloom and Politoed being their allies. It's such a small detail but it's nice that Joey and Mathew aren't alone in being promoted. I assume that the plan is they can help take the organization down by climbing the ranks up to the highest one they can. It sounds like a fine enough plan, but plans hardly ever work like they're supposed to, so there's that. I'm curious to see how this will turn out.

Chapter 12

Okay, uh... oh boy. This one doesn't sound that happy. I think that's the abridged version of what I'm about to say. I still liked the chapter, but it feels a little heavier. However, focusing on Demurke is a nice change of pace. She deserves screentime(and hugs, mostly hugs). Also, her dad remains really cool! I just really like Pidgeot, man.

Mister Persian is a treat. Something about a fun old man is a good deviation from the trope, and the fact he's (seemingly) a nice guy only elevates this for me. You gotta love seeing supportive old men, I guess.

Alright, let me get this out of the way. Things are looking more dire with every chapter, I think. I'm not complaining about Demurke reading the letter when she wasn't supposed to, because it created tension. All her friends are in trouble, a lot of trouble. How are they getting out of this? I mean, the rest of the club doesn't even know. And will they know? I have no idea, probably gonna know by the next chapter, or maybe not.

Ahem, this is serious. I don't know what the "confrontation" part is supposed to mean, but isolation? Oh boy, it can't be anything good. I doubt I'm overreacting, considering both Demurke and Persian had similar reactions. Poor Persian, his son is in trouble. And Demurke has the worst reaction out of them, she wants to dissolve everything! It must be some really bad things if she's that worried about it. I'm intrigued, and excited to see hwo this will continue.

I feel like with each passing chapter, the conspiracy gets better, to be honest. It's really nice to see all the pieces fitting together like this. Good job with this chapter, it was short and sweet. Still very good.

Chapter 13

Hm, gotcha. This one was a lot more chill than I thought it'd be. I like this, taking the time to introduce plot threads and taking the time to solve them, slowly. Normally I wouldn't like this that much, but it seems to be working just fine for this story. I don't know that much about pacing, but personally, it's fine for me. There's nothing for me to criticize about this aspect of the story. As for the chapter itself: it was alright. I still like it, and the fact there's some hijinks, along with the OCEAN subplot, makes it a good one too. Lemme go into details here.

The thing with the rats was entertaining, but more so because of ORB. I don't think I've mentioned it before, but he's a great character. Something about sassy robots, I think. It's part of the tropes I enjoy! Anyway, the rats didn't give them that much issue, even if(as far as I know) Joey still can't fight all that well. Maybe the rats weren't so strong? Regardless, it made for a nice display of interactions from everyone there. Though I'll say I had a hard time realizing the meeting with Dit was a flashback scene and didn't happen at the same time. I had to do a double take. I'll say that I might have read too fast, but uh, yeah, I got confused for a moment. Nothing more to say about it.

As for the thing with OCEAN, yeah. They're showing more of their character here and that's always fun to see, Dit definitely knows more than what he shows. It feels as if everyone but the main cast(apart from Jermy and ORB) knows the full extent of what's going on. I do expect the club to find out sooner or later... hoping for sooner, tbh.

Chapter 14

Hm, okay, I really like this one. I mean it, this one's great! There's not much going on in it, but the things that are there are very worthwhile. It kind of reminds me of a bottle episode; focusing in one specific location and the characters inside of it In this one there's a discussion on bringing down Meowth by "beating him up". I didn't think that's where the plot would lead up to, but honestly? I'm all for it. I do feel kind of bad for the guy, then I remember the hypnosis stunt and that feeling is gone. He brought this upon himself, I think. Though I'll admit Dit might be going for an overkill here, because he doesn't really need to go to such lengths just to ensure Meowth stays quiet? But I dunno. I'm not sure if this is entirely justifiable or not.

But Jermy does have a point, this plan's stupid. It can either be a success, meaning Joey and Mathew are in, or it can fail spetacularly, and Meowth will be aware of them wanting him gone. Of course, nobody seems to listen. I mean, they do kind of listen? But not enough in my opinion. Normally, this would be drama for the sake of drama, but I feel that everyone's already so worked up it makes sense for them to ignore his warnings. I almost think he'd betray them and let Meowth know of the plan in advance. It feels like something he'd do.

It's a fun chapter. The runtime is spent entirely on planning and working out what they're going to do, so there's stakes to be met with the next one. It's all good here, too. I'm even conflicted if I should root for Meowth or the club. Both options come with their issues, but that's fine.
 

Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
Hey there, Luker! It's finally time for me to take a peek at this one! This is going to be a review of chapter 1 and the prologue. I'll give some stream of consciousness thoughts as well as end thoughts.

Interesting prologue. It seems slightly too detailed to be just a throwaway setting, right? That's the first thing I thought upon finishing it. We have a setup for a post apocalypse or mid apocalypse going on in the human world followed by escapism from it. I don't know what that entails for the main protagonist here, if he's even going to be that, but including this particular kind of setting in the prologue screams that it's going to be used properly down the line.

Even though it's only a thousand words or so, after having finished the first chapter, I'm fully confident that something will tie it back. At the very least, it will be Cubone and Totodile having some memories exchanging of the past, with the latter trying his best to get the former to spill the beans, even if he's obviously trying to keep away from one particularly bad memory. Along with that, though, the fact that this DE person seems to regularly pull in humans suggests that he might have something to do with that world, too. Maybe even a link to the way the world is? Tough call.

Another little twist on the typical format: we have the person with Pokemon knowledge as a person with full memories, and another who lost all his memories, but retained his basic knowledge. With one being so smart, I wonder if they'd be able to deduce the time and place the amnesiac was from or not. This is an interesting twist on an old formula, and I like that. Especially since I get the feeling these two are going to be a bit oil and water with the way they react to one another, in some ways. Or maybe it'll be opposites attract? Either way, it feels like we have a scientist and a hillbilly teaming up.

Everything about the first chapter gives me a sense of familiar but with a twist. It seems that this world has a whole system in place for recruiting humans into this world for one reason or another, which explains why it had been given so freely. The presence of ORB also suggests that there's at least some sense of majorly advanced, post-Super levels of technology around, too... But most of all, it feels like we're going to skip past most of the tired buildup tropes that most PMD stories have in favor of something different. That has me curious to see what that means and if it will shape up.

What I'd hope to see there is just how the human integration system actually works here. If it's gone from some happenstance thing that happens via a Voice to something that is controlled directly--or this is a world where that's never been the case and it was discovered this way to begin with--that means there will probably be whole systems in place for what to do next. I wouldn't want to delve into the world building for too long, as that would bog down pacing, but I'd like to see sprinkles of that in the next few chapters, with leeway to focus on it more in the next one in particular.

Some retrospective thoughts--The conflict with the birds was a little drawn out, as a side note. But implying power scaling early was also helpful, and I'll be keeping a close eye on that for the first few chapters in particular. Mentioning offhand a sort of 'dungeon madness' mechanic while still being relatively mundane about things leaves some questions, but I think you already know my thoughts on the perils of including anything to do with Dungeon madness. Maybe it's a milder or temporary effect if they're being so nonchalant about it. Overall, though, solid, albeit long, opening chapter.
 

Ambyssin

Gotta go back. Back to the past.
Location
Residency hell
Pronouns
he/him
Partners
  1. silvally-dragon
  2. necrozma-ultra
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. dreepy
  6. mewtwo-ambyssin
Merry Blitzmas
Disclaimer: Reviews are generally stream of consciousness stuff. Feel free to take with a grain of salt or ignore them entirely.

3: Yes, I do believe that's a name.
-The initial group meet up bit has similar padding problems that I mentioned last year, where it feels like every group member has to get a line in, even if it doesn't contribute anything to the conversation or move the story along. It's like you're not confident enough of ways to remind the audience who's in the group so you default to dialogue... kind of like certain video games where the characters don't know when to stop talking. 😅
-BIRB ALERT BIRB ALERT WEEWOO
-I thought Matthew's original world was supposed to be all Fallout desolate. What could he have cross-referenced for those blueprints? Stacks of documents he was hoarding?
-Oh yeah sure, birb just casually abduct rodent. Y'know, perfectly normal predator behavior. Definitely not going to eat him.
-My previous complaint still holds: a decidueye shouldn't know what a cricket is. You could go with Jiminy Kricketune instead. It personally sucks me out of the moment.
-"If you need instructions on how to proceed, check out the almighty handbook." Which sure sounds like some sort of prophecy.
-I'm not sure I've seen any PMD pieces that involve a literal gym like what you'd find in our world. While I'd be tempted to say there's more human influence on this world as a result of its origins or something like that... I'm not sure the explanation that's deep for this fic. ^^;
-Just casually showcasing a bunch of portals like this is a Crash Bandicoot warp room.
-I feel like both sides here are extending an awful lot of trust to the other with little to go off, as exemplified by just how casually David drops the fact that this organization has sentries and there's a strong possibility the humans could end up as part of them. I'd be paranoid as hell if I were them. What if they're being secretly recruited for a not so benign purpose.
-The sudden flashback about Jermy's sister feels rather... shoehorned in. I wonder if there wasn't a more appropriate time and place for that. I think settling for a line or two mentioning her while Jermy's dozing off would work better.
-That said it is interesting this place can apparently charge mundane objects with an elemental type. I'm sure that'll come into play often. Otherwise, why bring it up this early?

4: I knew we should've beta tested these bonds more...
-Oh no biggie just casually plopping a car down into the PMD setting. I guess I anything goes after last chapter's facility.
-It also occurred to me that, beyond Matthew and 'mons who just use their species name, it would serve you well to remind readers which characters are what species.
-oh no matthew's one of those drivers. -5 likeability points.
-I can't read SEAS and not think of Persona 3's SEES instead. :grohno:
-I've seen too many pieces with malevolent AI to believe in Jermy's praise for Matthew. I think the latter made a terrible mistake with all that past coding work and he's right to downplay it. 😆
-"So many people write my name with two Ts." Like me, who didn't even realize it was misspelled because my brain autocorrects it while reading it. As I assume most people would. :V
-The "trophy dog" line again brings up a concern from my last review: by not following dialogue with the character name of who actually spoke, you're making it seem like the wrong character is speaking and confusing readers. If you can't come up with a proper dialogue attribution sentence to follow it, have the dialogue be its own paragraph and start a new one.
-Oh this existential talk was happening while Matthew was still driving? Oops. Also, if the POV character knows what pokémon are, I really do think you should just give the species name instead of awkwardly trying to describe it. I think this is, like, a barbaracle that they pissed off, but I can't tell for sure because the description that's there is rather awkward.
-Okay it is a barbaracle. Yeah, I think the gimmick of all its limbs having their own identities is cute but hampered by how long it takes you to reveal it is a barbaracle.
-Meowth showing he's far more mature than Jermy, who's apparently an engineer? Maybe he's just a self-professed one, because he acts like a kid most of the time. XP

5: Who's planting their roots?
-So... mystery dungeons are getting trashed? Or mystery dungeons form because of people trashing the environment? The latter could actually be an interesting environmentalist type message sksksksk...
-ngl, I'm not sure if Demurke has a stuttering condition or not, but this is the kind of thing that translates... awkwardly into a pure prose fic. As it stands, you're picking one word in Demurke's dialogue and stuttering it. Feels a bit unnecessary.
-I'm personally more of an 1812 Overture guy. But, again, the fact that song seemingly exists here is continuing to raise red flags. Either that or you guys just want funny references in the fic and it's not really that deep.
-I'm glad Palossand is identified almost immediately so I can instead focus on the LARGE HAM antics and ye olde butcherede Englishe.
-Palossand's first act is to disappear ORB? 10/10, best character introduced in the fic so far.
-Surprised that, with all the references here, you didn't go for an "I hate sand" one.
-Not much to say about the skirmish overall except it's pretty clear Joey has the strength of a baby totodile.

6: Trying to make a pun out of "misdemeanor" should be a misdemeanor itself. >:C
-Matthew thinking Olive Garden qualifies as a sort of fancier restaurant tells me everything I need to know about exactly how much grass he touched in his human days.
-I misread Silvalla as Silvally and now I'm sad there isn't a silvally in this fic. 😢
-Matthew being able to read all the menu stuff and know it's Italian is sussy baka territory. This world's venting in med bay.
-I can't say it's strange to see pokémon throwing around terms like NDAs given what I write. It just feels weird seeing it in someone else's fic.
-Oh, y'know, just casually using Hypnosis to get answers out of people. That's a perfectly reasonable thing /s. There are a few moments before the Hypnosis where the prose switches to the present tense for no reason, though.
-I'm... also a bit unclear exactly what happens with Meowth's scene. He starts out going back to his condo... but then we flash back to the restaurant not long after Matthew left? What was really the point of the opening sentence, then? And then not long after there's mention made of an interrogation room, but I didn't see Meowth get taken anywhere? It's very confusing. Also, if Meowth is really that worried about his license — the process of obtaining it being something I'm also confused about; the fic's schooling system sounds more... European? — why would he use Hypnosis in public like that? Seems like a case of holding the idiot ball tightly for the sake of the plot. Like, he didn't really expect Matthew to blow up and want to leave? This guy got a medical license? I know some professionals lack bedside manner and some do really stupid things but this feels like contrition because the plot demanded it and I'm personally not a fan of that.
-And I do think this chapter could've been split and ended after Matthew leaves the restaurant.

7: I prefer to share the smiles. They go for miles. 😀
-An entirely glass wall is begging for trouble. Those never end well.
-A hoe definitely goes down on a wedding day, if you know what I mean :^)
-Despite hearing about some of the bad stuff that might have happened to Matthew back home, I still can't help but feel like Meowth's the edgier character right now. XD
-Why does Crazybus exist in a PMD world? <_<
-I'm sorry, are we just going to gloss over there being 22 legendary wars?! This world's even more fucked that Matthew's, apparently!
-After reading his animation complaints, Matthew strikes me as a "You have to have a high IQ to understand 'Rick & Morty'" kind of guy.
-For someone who's supposed to be an adult, Matthew actually strikes me as not all that mature in the controlling his emotions department. Maybe the dimensional warp messed that up a bit?

8: AKA "Why do I hear boss music playing?"
-I'm not sure what I find funnier. The fact that Matthew believes route 1 birb pidgeot is mighty or that the pidgeot's name is Dit. It just makes me think of "ditz," which is far from a term of endearment. That said, Dit holding such a high position of authority stands in stark contrast to Demurke's rather timid behavior. I do think the, uh, sleazy Joisey accent feels rather out of place. And this comes from someone who wrote the most southern drawl braviary in existence.
-I don't mind this chapter being much shorter than the others. I think the one major scene of this mysterious warning is good enough. And using a different (but similar sounding) organization name is enough to trigger the sus-o-meter. ... In other news, I have a sus-o-meter, apparently.

9: I guess this means someone's getting hurt. It's probably Matthew.
-Ah, so they're going to compete with a bunch of other people. Who, uh... I think the one species you didn't name is a raboot? Not entirely sure. But it's a bunch of names of ex-humans being thrown at me rapidly, so extra reminders of their species wouldn't hurt right now. A magikarp in a little fishbowl robot suit is nifty, though between that, ORB, and CRTs I see we're operating on Ace Attorney levels of crazy tech inconsistencies.
-A game show, eh? COME ON DOWN, MATTHEW, YOU ARE THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON THE PRICE IS WRONG!
-Yeah, I can't take Matthew seriously as an adult with comments like "beav your asses." That isn't even a dad joke, that's just bad.
-Is David also ex-human? I think he's the only pokémon so far to use a surname that isn't one of the transformed humans.
-Did I miss the explanation for what it is the teams are supposed to be doing? And, uh, why this was chosen? It looks like their buildings weapons or something. I've seen a pokémon POV fic that's had weapons before, but it still feels strangely out of place when these 'mons can, y'know, all use attacks on their own. This is also giving Matthew an excuse to be even more insufferable, which I'm not sure whether or not is intentional. I'm going to guess the former given how nasty he gets when things shift into this attack phase.

10: More like Emily unimPrest... M I RITE? :^)
-[blinks slowly] What? Just casually introducing a new character who would've been rather important as a human. Is... is this actually a Metal Wolf Chaos fan fic? Have I gotten japed?
-I gotta say it this far in: is ORB supposed to be a Navi-tier unlikeable helper thing? He's even like Sparx from The Legend of Spyro trilogy and that is not a flattering comparison one should have to draw. ^^;
-But the real question: is Emily a Republican or a Democrat? 🤔
-I don't know, man, after that last chapter I think Joey's a bit too quick to forgive Matthew for acting like a major asshole. I'd be pretty pissed if I were him. And I'm equally amazed this organization still wants to conduct any business with them. After a blow up like that, I'd be showing Matthew the door if I was in Emily's place. How very... stateswomanlike to try and broker peace between them.
-A lot of intrigue in Mewoth's stealth segment. To the point where I almost wonder if it and the scene before it should've been a separate chapter to give more weight behind that stuff. Especially since the little scene that follows is short and only provides set up for something else entirely. Might've done better as the start to 11.

11: Better than Twin Snakes, maybe?
-Not going to lie, the way this opening scene reads to me is that Joey is framing himself as the problem in the human duo cooperating. I'm pretty sure it's coming from a place of low self confidence and uncertainty surrounding the whole memory loss thing, but dang if it doesn't hurt to read considering Joey's been trying his best. I, uh, hope that's the interpretation... otherwise it feels like Joey's somehow gaslit himself when Matthew is easily the more problematic one but can compensate by doing science stuff and making people forget about that.
-On the flip side, though, wow Joey you're not doing yourself any favors blurting out why you need psychic stones. Vague or not, that was just... really dumb.
-So, are they still in the SEAS recruitment process or are they proper members now? I don't think it's been made entirely clear but I would think working with the big boss lady qualifies.
-[blinks slowly again] I'm sorry... what? That doesn't sound like it's describing a war at all. Just a series of duels. Throw down the gauntlet and slap 'em with the white glove type of things.
-The irony of Kyurem, a being of emptiness who freezes things over, seemingly being an eco terrorist is quite thick.
-Joey to Matthew after this revelation: "Hey, are we the bad guys?" My thoughts in chapter 3 seem much more accurate now...

So far... things continue to feel like a novelization of an RP. Which is a double-edged (ha!) sword, in my opinion. I think there are some noticeable character inconsistencies, particularly with the two focal humans. A lot of the humor is still too lolrandom for my tastes but I'm sure it's up someone's alley. (But, like, ORB could really be made silent and the fic wouldn't lose any comedic value.) The world itself is the more interesting part for me. It has so much human influence seeping into it that something is clearly up. I refuse to believe it's not intentional.
 

Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. lugia
  5. quilava-fobbie
  6. sneasel-kate
  7. heliolisk-fobbie
Heya, it's been a while, but there's an off-server review event going on and that feels like as good an occasion as any to dive back into Double-Edged. So let’s pick right up where I left off last time with…

Chapter 2

As the gray cat stared at the medical kit in his paws, he couldn't help but wonder how, exactly, his life had ended up like this. He had spent his whole life readying to become a doctor, or a nurse, or perhaps even a counselor. and Yet somehow, more than a year later, he had found himself degraded to the equivalent of a janitor. Not helping was the fact that he was also getting yelled at by a fifteen year-old girl.

IMO, you don't need the passive verb tense in this section, and the "yet somehow [...]" part works better in its own sentence since without a split, that's pretty long-winded. Though I'm guessing that this is D.E. here?

"Meowth, please, I'm begging you!" his minccino coworker, Minichino, exclaimed. The gray chinchlla's blue satchel was clearly heavier than his. In her paw was a plastic bottle, which Meowth supposed her satchel was too full to carry. "If you won't let me take their satchels while they're gone, will you at least let me trade satchels with you so I can fill yours up myself?"

I think this bit in underline works better not being jammed in between the halves of this line of dialogue, since it makes things drag a bit. Though "their" satchels, huh? So Meowth here has other coworkers of note?

"I'm not going to take credit for your work," Meowth bluntly replied.

The cat
looked up from his kit as his paw sunk back to the side of his body. He was carrying two satchels — one around his shoulder, which Jermy asked him to carry. and one in his other paw, which Demurke asked him to carry. His own satchel was on the ground, between the two of them. Meowth protectively put his foot next to it.

"You aren't getting my satchel, either."

Would recommend hacking this paragraph up, though I see that Matt and Joey are going to be coming into the scene in pretty short order at this rate, given that we just saw Demurke and Jermy last chapter with them.

Minichino groaned. "Then you have to clean, Meowth! That's our job! Every article of trash we miss is another step away from solving the problem. I can only do so much when our work hours get randomly cut like this!"

Meowth: "(I just had to get stuck on this job with a Pokémon that's a neat freak by nature, didn't I?)"
:gardexhausted:


"You should lay off him a bit, Minichino."

That was Politoed. He had been watching them bicker, sitting against a nearby tree with an antique crown on his head. The green frog, taller than the both of them, was fiddling with the antique crown situated atop his headgear.

"Not that I disagree. Just that both Meowth and the rest of us can't get a thing done sitting here."

I would suggest chopping this paragraph up and reshuffling a few bits of description around. I admittedly did a double-take at a teammate getting introduced this late on, but I think that it still works, if obviously a bit better with a bit more "oh right, he's here too" from the narration.

"Well, what else are we gonna do?" Minichino argued. "If we're gonna wait here for Demurke and Jermy to come back all day, we might as well try getting our output increased in the future."

Do these guys get paid by volume for the trash they gather or something? Since you'd think that janitors wouldn't care so much about 'output'. ^^;

"Why did...Jer and De...even ask us...to wait here...in the first place?"

Thwack! The tree branch Breloom had been trying to high kick out of boredom shook and rustled in response to a successful hit. The kangaroo with a mushroom cap for a head, as tall as Politoed, stuck the landing with her stretchy limbs. Her violet cape, held together with a sky blue gem centerpiece, slowly draped down her back. Her medallion, embedded with a different, deep green gem spotted with red, dangled from her neck.

Somebody's certainly well-dressed for being a janitor there. Though I kinda wonder if this section would also work better with a "oh right, she's here too" sort of lead-in to Breloom since this is the very first that her presence in this group is even being acknowledged since there was zero hint at all in the opening paragraphs that Meowth had other teammates beside Minichino with him until they suddenly just exist.


"Nice kick," Politoed commented. He had a matching medallion around his neck, though the gem embedded in his resembled gold.

I'm assuming that those medallions aren't just there as fashion statements given that this guy also has a crown. Since that feels rather particular for the attire of a glorified handiman.


Meowth shrugged at her question. "Maybe Jermy's testing to see if we'll tear each other apart if he leaves for five minutes. My father would probably love to know."

Remind me to make a point of never meeting this guy's father. .-.

"Oh please," Minichino remarked. "If your dad really cared about our work effort, you'd be out of a job."

Meowth glared daggers into Minichino with his green eyes. "At least I could afford to be out of a job."

:burned~1:


Minichino gaped at him, clutching the faded yellow scarf wrapped around her neck that matched her bycocket hat. "...You really just said that."

I can't take what I dish out! How dare you?! Meowth imagined her saying.

Minichino: "I can so! How dare you, Meowth?!"
:seviAAAAAAAAAAA:


"In his defense, Owth is the only one of us here with a specialized role," Breloom reminded them.

... So Meowth here is 'Owth'? Or is that Politoed? It's a bit ambiguous from the dialogue.

"In his offense, kind of a mistake to put the least eco-friendly physician-therapist on a medic job all about cleaning, isn't it?" Politoed said. He slowly stood up. "But in any case, the two of them have been gone a while. Probably should go check up on them."

Yup, Meowth is Owth. Good to know in that case.

"Yeah Poli, that sounds like a good idea." Breloom nodded.

Oh, so this is like Power Trip where most locals' reflexive naming patterns are just fragments of their species names, huh? ... Or it's a sign that these guys aren't all that important. Can't tell yet.

"I'm coming with you." Meowth turned around and began walking away from their congregation gathering.

[ ]

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Minichino asked. "If Demurke and Jermy see half of us out and about, won't they think we're breaking their orders? If it's just one person, they'll probably accept that we're checking up on them."

I just realized that this is like the fifth paragraph in a row without any real description of body language or the like. It might make sense to put some in here since presumably everyone's reacting to Owth drifting off from them right now.

Meowth almost rolled his eyes. If you leave, I can't batter you with endless criticism anymore! was what he guessed Minichino was really thinking behind all of that mock-reason.

"I don't think we're going to be fired over demonstrating concern for our coworkers. Besides, they should take these back." he raised Jermy and Demurke's satchels into the air. Maybe they'll stop tempting you if it's back with them."

Minichino scowled at him. The Meowth hesitated briefly, before prompting him to add amending his words to smooth things over.

"
If it makes you feel better, I changed my mind. You can take care of my satchel."

I would recommend hacking this paragraph up into a few pieces, I also thought the "Minichino scowled [...]" part read a bit awkward, so I gave a suggestion for a potential rephrasing there.

Politoed shrugged. "Not really bothered by you joining me. Just keep quiet and stick with me — don't want to catch the two of them off-guard."


"Try not to get lost out there," Breloom said as the pair walked off. The line of eyeshadow she wore made her gaze more intense than she likely intended. "We wouldn't want your parents to cry if you both never came back, yeah?"

Wow, someone's supportive there. /s

Meowth gave a nod without looking back. "Trust me, mine won't."

As he and Politoed walked together, Meowth remembered exactly why he was still a part of this job, in spite of all the heckling, the degradation, and the time-wasting:

To put it simply, it was His father.

For years, Mr. Persian — curse him for using as if he deserved to use that honorific as if he was any other dad — had left him to rot. It was bad enough before he graduated from Lower Ed, but by thirteen, his father had shoved him into a cozy dorm at the Kalmwa'er Center for Higher Education and by all means then effectively vanished from his life. It was a sad reality, but it was one Meowth understood he had to accept.

A couple of suggested rephrasings here and there. Also, IMO it might be more impactful to just do "His father" as a direct answer to his "wait, why am I dealing with this BS" moment beforehand.

Poli: "Oh boy, this again..."
:gardexhausted:


Owth: "Shut up, Poli. It's a big deal for me, okay?" >_>;

Then two weeks ago, lo and behold, there he was, at his cheap apartment's front door with an offer: a luxurious condo and a mild pay modest salary in exchange for a part-time job at his new little publicity stunt, this Pick-it Up Club. Well, he didn't say that outright, but what else could it be? His father wasn't an environmentalist, or at least he wasn't a decade ago.

Owth: "(This is all for some dumb tax scam, isn't it?)" >_>;

To tell the truth, Meowth didn't have any issues with rejecting the offer. He didn't mind his apartment and he could live with the job he had. But from the moment his father was at his doorstep, he smelled a rat. He wanted something from him — there wasn't any other explanation. So, he agreed to his game.

Wait, I'm not sure if I follow. Owth turns down Mr. Persian's offer, is content with his lifestyle, and senses that something is obviously wrong... so he accepts Mr. Persian's offer anyways? I think there might have been a step accidentally cut during editing at some point or something.

You explained elsewhere that this is something Owth is claiming he would do, reminder to phrase as "wouldn't have had any issues" or something like that. Some sort of "I could've done this if I wanted to" thing which would make this quite a bit clearer to read.

<><><>

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

"I have great news for you four," his father had said in the hotel lobby, the Club gathered up for morning announcements before hopping to work. "Today's workload should only take an hour or two at most!"

I would recommend adding a hard scene break in here at some point since we're flashing back from the present time to a moment in the past. It can work either before the paragraph with "When he [...]" or immediately after it where it makes the flashback feel more in medias res.

[ ]

"What?! No way!" Minichino had exclaimed. "You can't just change our hours like this! I won't stand for it!"

"M-Minichino, I'm pretty sure he can," Demurke had said.

"Well, yeah, but I don't want him to."

I feel like we're kinda missing the reactions from everyone at this moment. Either as describing their physical reactions or Owth's internal thoughts as he's going full:

Image


in reaction and watching his teammates similarly get displeased.

"Minichino, please, consider this a reward!" Mr. Persian had told her. "The amount of effort you've put into each and every day is in need of returns. You've earned some time to relax." He had then turned his attention to the others. "The same goes for all of you."

He's doing this to stiff them out of paying them for a few hours of work per day, isn't he?

"What have I done to earn a break day?" he had asked. "I just sit around and wait for somebody to get injured."

I mean, if it's not a paid break day, I can think of a pretty obvious reason there.

"Well, Meowth...Erm… You...play a very important role in this company! And, after all, somebody has to protect this higher-up of mine!" He gestured to Jermy. "He is very excited to examine you at work, even if his exposure is somewhat short."

Owth: "Dad, are you kidding me?" >.<
Mr. Persian: "... No? It's legitimately an important role that only you can fill... well, for now anyways." ^^;

Like a lightswitch, his father's face had flicked from something resembling emotion to a hollowly charismatic grin. It was the moment Meowth saw that performative smile that he knew he needed to study Jermy like no tomorrow, because whatever purpose he had here, it was certainly not to examine them. His father always made that face when he was lying.

Wait, there was no mention of that being Jermy's official role at all prior to this point though. It might make sense to explicitly state that either in dialogue or in narration.

Meowth should've guessed that Jermy wouldn't make that easy by isolating himself from the other members. For that matter, he also should've guessed Demurke specifically would've accompanied him. When she wasn't working at the Club, she was working for his father. Of course she'd be in on it. He was lucky Politoed had given him a convenient excuse to break off and try to overhear some answers.

Wait, is this still in the past, or set in the present day? If it's in the present day and you and Dommy opt to put in hard scene breaks, remember to put one right before this paragraph, too.

Speaking of Politoed, there was his hand, placed in front of his shoulder. "Shh," he muttered, as if he had to be silenced.

Meowth's ears heard the rustling of leaves and shrubbery and the scuffing of dirt. Jermy and Demurke were nearby...but it didn't sound like they were alone.

IMO, this should be at least 2 paragraphs, since putting the "shh" moment in the middle of the paragraph kinda undercuts the tension a bit.

"You've really never done this before?" a voice said, low-pitched and loud.

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

Ah yes, so Matt and Joey are going to enter the scene in short order.

"Yeah, I'm new to all this." Jermy. "David usually has me working on other things, but like I said, you guys are high profile. You'll need somebody like me around!"

... Wait, is David Mr. Persian, then? Since none of the others we've met so far are 'David', so...

The voices and noise were getting closer. Meowth moved himself away from where their line of sight would be and behind some shrubs. Politoed wordlessly followed him. David… That was a name he hadn't heard of before. He made a note to ask somebody about it later.

Well, nevermind then. David is somebody else entirely.

"And n-no worries, Joey!"

Meowth could see the group walking together now. Demurke was addressing a totodile walking alongside a cubone helping him carry a large bag of some kind. This 'Joey', he guessed.

"You and Matthew have me!" she said, waving a wing towards the cubone. who was helping the totodile carry a large bag of some kind, "have me! I-I've done this whole recruitment thing a couple times before, so I...know a thing or t-two."

Would suggest hacking this part up and reshuffling the word ordering a bit. The biggest part is pulling the description of Matt and Joey forward and out of the middle of Demurke's dialogue, since trying to do it in the middle makes things drag much long than I think you intended it to since the dialogue is written assuming Demurke's wing thing is swift and almost instantaneous.

"You also have me, a catalog of information on the rules, conduct, and guidelines," the robot — ORB, was it? — said. "On that note, here's a pretty obvious rule number zero…"

Suddenly, he stopped, whirled around, and, with his glass-frame-for-an-eye, looked straight at him and Politoed.

"Don't eavesdrop on the conversation of somebody with an aura-tracking robot, you pair of numbskulls."

Whelp, nothing gets past Claptrap ORB, I see. Though I wonder how much Owth is
:FearfulMeowth:
-ing, but for real right now.

[ ]

"Sorry!" Politoed exclaimed, acting fast. "Wanted to come over to check on you two. Been away from the rest of us for a while, you know?"

It might have made sense to show more of a startled reaction from Owth and Poli there before Poli speaks up. Especially if Owth isn't used to getting zeroed in on by ORB like this.

"Aw, you didn't have to worry!" Demurke exclaimed. "J-Jermy and I were just fine. As you can see, we...even helped s-some others." She gestured to the pair with the backpack.

"How much did you two hear, anyways?" Jermy asked.

Owth: "Enough to want to know what the hell is going on right now, Jermy." >_>;

"Something about conduct and guidelines?" Meowth answered before Politoed could.

"Hmm." Demurke's gaze made it obvious she didn't believe that. She wasn't angry, but she was staring at him with wistful disappointment. Meowth didn't care. She could lament how she didn't catch him listening in earlier all she wanted, but it couldn't change that he got what he was looking for: a lead.

... Wait, a lead about what? Who Joey and Matt are? Perhaps I'm missing something from the earlier chunks of story, but it might make sense to be a bit more explicit about this part here.

[ ]

"Uh, Jermy, Demurke, who are these guys?" Matthew asked. He set his large bag aside, prompting Joey to do the same.

[ ]

"T-These are some of my coworkers!" Demurke exclaimed, shelving the previous subject of her interest. "We asked them to wait behind for a bit, b-but I guess we worried them too much…"

Also another bit that feels like some description would help liven things up a bit, both to show off the "wait, what the?" mood from Matt and Joey and Demurke's obvious flusteredness at the moment.

"Y'all would've been nice to have while we were fighting off them gulls earlier," Joey said.

[ ]

"Sorry we weren't any faster to attend the fight we didn't know about," Meowth said. Joey's expression didn't change. He clearly missed the sarcasm. "It's just Meowth."

This also feels like a bit that would benefit from some non-dialogue description, in particular Owth's internal thoughts. Since I gather he's not really supposed to be impressed right now, but I'm still curious as to what he thinks about these casual revelations at the moment.

"Howdy, Meowth. And — oh!" The totodile fumbled his way to what resembled a bow. "Uh, howdy, your Highness!"

"Highness?" Politoed was taken by surprise by his greeting. "Oh, no. I'm no prince."

Joey: "... Wait, but you have a crown."
:joltyshrug~1:


Joey raised his maw. "Wuh… Why do you wear a crown, then?"

Kek. But yeah, I'm admittedly curious about that myself. Especially since it was explicitly described as being an antique.

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

Oh, well that would explain a few things. Though I guess King's Rocks don't get absorbed during evolution in this setting. That or Poli picked up a second one after evolving.

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

Image


I'm sure that this guy would be able to go on for forever and a day about why his crown's so great if you asked him to, just saying.

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

"Just Politoed is fine."

Oh, is this one of those settings where species name address is basically "Hello stranger"-tier? Since I notice that Poli didn't give 'Poli' as his name to these two.

Meowth found an opportune time to reign the conversation in.

"So have you two finished whatever you left us to do?" he asked Jermy and Demurke.

I kinda wonder if there ought to have been more of a "judgement" / "definitive statement" from Owth there beyond just "found a moment to cut things short". e.x. does Owth essentially go "yeah, this is going to go on for forever, let's stop"? If so, it might make sense to show more of that thought process in the narration.

"We sure have!" Jermy replied. "Can you lead all of us back to the others?"

"Yeah," Politoed said, already turning around to take the lead. "This way."

The group slowly walked back the way they came. After two halfhearted tosses of Jermy and Demurke's satchels, Meowth took the time to process what he had overheard. 'Recruitment,' she had called it… Recruitment for what? The Pick-it Up Club?

Jermy:
Image

Owth: "Jermy, why would you even-?" >.<

Breloom and Minichino came into view up ahead. When the lot of them Meowth and his companions approached, Breloom was the first to speak. "Welcome back! I see you found Demurke and Jermy! And…"

Some suggestions for potential tweaks to this section, since something about it feels very abrupt.

[ ]

"Is this everyone?" Matthew asked Demurke.

"Sure is!" she replied. "There's o-only five of us. Well, I guess...that's probably eight now, r-right?"

IMO, this would work a bit better to show off more of Matt and Joey's reaction to the rest of the gang, since I kinda get the feeling that Matt's supposed to be looking around right now but it's not really "shown" much.

[ ]

"Eight?" Minichino repeated. "Does that mean what I think it means?!"

[ ]

"It sure sounds like y'all are gonna be working with us now," Joey said.

I kinda feel a bit out of the loop here, since A: we don't really get a solid description of Minichino or Joey's reactions to each other, B: the significance of eight members was never mentioned at all up to this point. Like you'd think that at the very least Owth would have an internal "Fantastic. Not." moment to at least hint that this is important and that the Pick-it Up Club has been cognizant of needing 8 members for some reason for a while now.

Maybe I'm overthinking it, but some food for thought.

"Yes!" Minichino leapt into the air with glee. "I had a feeling that Jermy showing up was gonna make that happen, but it's still super exciting to hear! We can always use new hands around here."

Owth: "Look, don't I get some say in this-?" >_>;
Everybody Else:
Image


"Yeah, can't say I mind," Breloom added, nodding along.

Minichino placed her hands on her hips. "Anyways, I'm Minichino! Co-owner of the Pick-it Up Club!"

I did not get the idea that Minichino was anywhere near that important in the Pick-it Up Club at all. Here I thought she was just another normal member. Kinda wonder if even if this is a detail that's going to be kept close to the vest up to this point, if it should've been hinted at in narration at all prior to this, since you'd think that this would impact how her teammates interact with her and stuff.

[ ]

"Hold up. Co-owner?" Matthew said. "You sound way too young for that."

"What, never seen a fifteen year-old co-owner before?" Her tone was somewhere between a genuine question and an under-handed compliment for herself.

IMO, at least one of these paragraphs should have some body language or internal thoughts or whatnot before it. I personally think that doing it for Matthew is a bit more important between these two since he's meant to be double-taking, but there's options, at least.

Matthew glanced at Jermy, who mouthed something along the lines of "She can do that here." Matthew shook his head. Meowth wondered why he'd find that so strange.

Owth: "(Did Jermy and Demurke pull this guy from under a rock or something? It's not that weird that Minichino's a co-owner, is it?)" :|

"What about you, Mrs. Mushroom?" Joey asked Breloom.

Breloom stifled a laugh, mouthing 'Mrs. Mushroom' to herself. [ ]

"You can drop the Mrs. First off, it'd only be Mrs. if we adopted a kid." She wrapped an arm around Politoed. "Second off, I don't go by any name other than Breloom. I'm just another worker here. You might see me whack a dungeon pokémon or two, but that's about it."

I would suggest breaking off the very first part of the paragraph with Breloom's dialogue and expanding it. Though I see Breloom's pretty chill as a character. Nice balance to Owth and Minichino who are both a bit grouchy and/or high-strung.

"Talk about underselling yourself…" Politoed muttered.

Breloom sighed. "Okay, maybe a couple more than two. But enough about us. What brings you two to the Club?"

Image


Just how many ferals or whatever-they're-called does Breloom go through normally? .-.

Matthew took a breath to answer, but Jermy spoke first. "We can probably talk about why we're here some other time," Jermy said.

... Wait, I just realized, but is 'Mathew' with one 't' deliberate or is it a typo? Since that's popped up a lot in this chapter, and now I'm not sure if I can tell.

And by 'other time,' I mean never, Meowth figured he meant.

Which considering how this is a story, is probably code for "it's going to come up again in the near future and be plot important".

"Right now though, we should probably get back to town so we can get properly signed up."

Joey: "Wait, but I thought that you just recruited us." ^^;
Demurke: "Um... well.. we kinda have a little bit of paperwork to take care of before that becomes formal." ^v^;

"Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense!" Minichino said. "Just one more thing. Here, Meowth." She handed him his satchel. It was heavier than it was before he left. "Alright, let's get going!"

Owth: "Minichino, are you serious right now?!"
:hissssss:

Minichino: "Am I not supposed to be? This is part of your job, Meowth." ^^

The group, now eight strong discounting the robot, followed the forest's path towards the edge of Kalmwa'er. Matthew and Joey were left in the back half of the group, still carrying that bag.

"What's with the big cargo, by the way?" Breloom asked the pair as they caught up.

Matt:
Image

Breloom: "No, really. What is it?"

"It's my stuff," Matthew explained. "I wasn't expecting it to end up this large, though. Or in a tree, for that matter."

[ ]

"Expecting?" Meowth asked. "You're the one who packed it. How did you not 'expect' the size you took with you?"

Might be a moment where it'd be worth putting in a reaction from Owth in terms of showing him double-taking or whatnot.

Matt: "I know that I'm probably going to sound stupid for saying this, but... no, not really." -_-;

"In my defense, I had a shit-ton of stuff to pack," Matthew said, dodging the question.

"What'd you pack, your kitchen sink?" Minichino asked, butting into the conversation. "With that much space, I could've cleaned half the planet."

Hilariously enough, Matt basically did that. Though I suppose that's another reminder that this is a fairly high-tech setting when normal Pokémon have a reflexive conception of 'kitchen sinks'.

"Why s-stop at half?" Demurke asked.

"Ha, maybe I would've done all of the planet if Mr. Persian hadn't cut our hours!" Minichino exclaimed.

Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good about Mr. Persian screwing with the Pick-it Up Club's hours to save money on their wages.

Meowth looked at her Minichino incredulously. Did she seriously fail to see the way Matthew blatantly avoided the subject of his belongings? But the conversation was already out of his hands, so any chance of pressing more was gone. He sighed to himself. Getting a word in during the workday was already difficult before he had some mouths he needed moving…

I'm... not sure if I find that really convincing. Maybe if Matt drifts off a bit and is busy talking with Demurke or something, but otherwise I'm not really sure why Owth just doesn't go "No really, what's in the bag, Matt?" if he's curious here.

<><><>

The Club made their way through the fancy upper half of town to the central edge of the cliffside, where the landing platform for the gondola awaited them. They were barely able to fit together, but carefully planting Politoed, Breloom, and Joey between the others made it work. They continued their small talk over the new employees, the job difficulty, and other menial things. Meowth tuned it all out — none of it was useful. A couple blocks and a few streets later, and there they were, standing in the shadow of Meowth's father's creation. A glass-built sliding door awaited their approach.

Matthew looked straight up. "Man, that sign still looks like shit from here, even up close."

Wait, how much of a jump in time has there been since the last paragraph. Since this is a really abrupt mention of "and then the gang went through the fancy upper half of town" when it wasn't even mentioned that they were starting pass outskirts much less see them.

There's two solutions here. One is a hard scene break to essentially hit the fast forward button without feeling jarring. The other is to add some transition effectively saying "Meowth tuned the world out after that. The surroundings started to give way to Kalmwa'er's outskirts, not far off from home sweet home." or something like that with a couple extra sentences or an added paragraph prior to this.

"It's better inside, I promise," Jermy reassured as he made the doors move aside.

The lobby was deceivingly cozy — the strangers were first greeted with the sight of a large room with finished wood flooring, bean bag chairs arranged in circles ripe for comfort and conversation, and a large fan hanging from the ceiling. The carpet on the sides made the wood an aisle with a straight shot towards the reception desk, backed by a wall. Two openings on the sides of the reception transitioned from wood to tile, alluding to grandeur closer to the resort's core.

But no light fixtures, I notice. Though I'm surprised that the ceiling fan is able to work since it means that they have some electricity to work with even if lighting at night isn't common for whatever reason.

"Excuse me, sirs," a voice said. Approaching them was a hulking brown bear of an ursaring. "Welcome to Kalmwa'er Resort. Might I assist you with that luggage of yours?"

Can't tell if Matt's going to accept the help or go full "No, buzz off, it's mine!" considering how his bag has his life's work in it right now.

"Hell yeah, you can!" Mathew exclaimed, holding the backpack towards him. "Hold this for me until we come back to the lobby and get ourselves sorted out."

Whelp, that answers that, then. Sure hope that the Ursaring is reputable, since otherwise Matt's going to regret this in short order.

"Will do." Matthew and Joey were relieved of their weight as the ursaring took their burden.

"That was really nice of him," Joey remarked.

"The s-staff are quite nice here...aren't they?" Demurke agreed.

... Now you're starting to get me worried that there is going to be some sort of horrible catch to that Ursaring's generosity.
:fearfullaugh~1:


While the strangers solved their luggage problem, Meowth kept focus on the matter that concerned him most. Right in front of them, standing just ahead of the reception desk, was his father, chatting away with the receptionist.

"Ah, there you are!" Mr. Persian exclaimed when he finally noticed them.

As he approached, Meowth noticed Matthew fiddle with his tie, as if spotting the cute purple bow tie wrapped around the cream-colored cat's neck had activated the cubone's neckwear sense.

Another spot where IMO things work better in smaller pieces. I kinda wonder if the description of the bowtie ought to have been frontloaded. Or at least precede the part where Owth sees Matt messing with his own tie, since it feels a bit weird that we're finding out what Matt's doing with his tie in reaction to a tie that isn't yet described in the story.

"Hey, Mr. Persian!" Minichino said. "We're back! Still need to head off to the dump though." She gestured to the satchel on herself.

Boy it sure is a good thing that that trash doesn't stink right now, since that can't be good for business otherwise.
:copyka:


"Excellent." His father briefly scanned over the cubone and totodile. "I presume these two came with you for a reason?"

"You could say that," Matthew said to Mr. Persian, glancing at both father and son. "So, I'm guessing you're Meowth's dad?"

"Yes, I am." Mr. Persian bowed. Matthew made an awkward half-bow in return, as if he recognized the reason for the greeting but didn't know how to do it.

"I own both the Pick-it Up Club and the resort you're standing in right now."

Yeah, I have so many questions about Minichino's relationship with this guy, since he certainly doesn't read as if he's 15 years old.

Though I'm not really feeling the "bow" moment in between the two parts of Mr. Persian's dialogue. IMO, it might make sense either to split off the second half such that it feels like there's more of a 'pause' or else to pull it forward entirely and have the dialogue in a straight shot afterwards as "Yes, I am. I own [...]" or something like that.

[ ]

"Wow, you built all this?!" Joey exclaimed.

"Not with my own two paws! But I did help with the blueprints...and the finances." He snickered at his own understatement.

Another spot where things would benefit from slowing down and showing the visual roses a bit, in this case, from showing off Joey's
:bulbuhhh:
expression and sense of wonder in action.

"Anyways," Jermy said. "We've got a crazy proposition for you." Jermy waved a hand towards the strangers. "The three of us want to join the Pick-it Up Club!"

[ ]

"Oh, my! This is quite unexpected!" Mr. Persian said. "It's been some time since we've employed new staff."

Wait, how is Mr. Persian reacting to all of this anyways? Like is he surprised? Has he been expecting this all along? Since describing character reactions can be a handy tool for giving the audience a feel for how they're supposed to vibe and hinting at how they tick in advance, and this feels like it would've been a good place to do some stuff on that front.

Which is to say it is entirely expected, Meowth suspected he was thinking. I'm sure this is all going over Meowth's head.

Yeah, this is admittedly why I suggested describing Mr. Persian's reaction more explicitly, this this is very "told" and not really "shown" at the moment, since I wouldn't have picked this up short of Owth's explicit commentary here.

[ ]

"Sir, d-do you need me to go collect the job contracts…?" Demurke asked.

As she said that, Mr. Persian suddenly recollected seemed to remember something.

"Ah, right! I remember taking out those papers when we hired Politoed and Breloom, but after I was finished with them, I forgot where to return them. I just remembered that I was going to ask you where to put them and never did. Now they're probably in one of those endless stacks in my room."

Oh, so they're going to have to sift through a room full of papers to find those contracts, huh? :V

I do think it'd have been nice to see Demurke fluster a bit more explicitly in the narration, though.

[ ]

"You lost the contracts?" Minichino asked. "Twice?!"

Mr. Persian struggled to make eye-contact with Minichino, the answer clearly humiliating him. "Yes, that's right."

Wait, so is Minichino supposed to be eye twitching or something here? I know it's a bit of a broken record at this point, but it feels like you could've gotten a funny moment in there from a reaction on her part.

"Oh, sir, it's f-fine." Demurke lightly patted a wing on Mr. Persian's back. "You've just gotta tell m-me these things when they happen so I-I can fix them. That's my job, after all…"

"I'll help, too!" Minichino said. "If you're losing stuff this easy, that means your office is out of sorts, and fixing that is my job! Maybe I can straighten things out."

inb4 Mr. Persian's office is somehow worse than the beaches they've been cleaning up.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Minichino," Mr. Persian said. "Your offer is absolutely appreciated, though. I can always use the extra hands."

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

I... kinda think this comes out of left field a bit. Like I gathered that Owth and Mr. Persian aren't exactly on the best of terms, but it probably would've been more impactful to build this up a bit in earlier narration, since I didn't get the vibe that Owth was uncomfortable or quietly seething at having to deal with his dad.

"So that gives you three something to do. What about the rest of us?" Breloom asked.

"Oh, you all can stay here in the lobby," Mr. Persian answered. "Just relax for a bit! We'll come back for you after we find them."

"Put your satchels on the table to your right. I'll pick 'em up when I leave!" Minichino said as the three left them to their own devices.

<><><>

Ten minutes later…

Ten minutes later, Meowth was resting on a beanbag, his back slowly sinking into his chair. Boredom was starting to set in. Trying to listen in on the idle banter passing the group by was losing its novelty fast.

Where in the world were they? Demurke surely knew those rooms inside and out, and Minichino's swift and thorough approach to everything would certainly help. Even if his father had misplaced the papers, surely the three of them together would have found them by now. What was holding them up?

Not sure if I'm feeling the "Ten minutes later..." tag, though regardless of if you keep it or not, this is another moment where I'd suggest a hard scene cut since you're basically hitting the fast forward button in live-time without any transition in between.

To his left, Breloom was eyeing the clock hanging on the wall high above the front entrance.

"Geeeeez," she slurred. "If Mr. Persian's been mishandling his docs this badly, no wonder he needs Demurke."

Why am I getting the increasing suspicion that Mr. Persian is """mishandling""" his docs?

"What, did you expect him to be perfect and proper after meeting me?" he asked her.

Politoed answered before Breloom could. "Dunno what we expected, really." He was deeper into his beanbag chair than Meowth was, getting a good view of the ceiling. "Definitely making me wish I brought a radio to pass the time though. Can't listen to chatter like you can."

That actually makes me wonder what the tech tree in this setting is such that Poli is reflexively thinking of radios for music instead of something like a phone or MP3 player. Since they have some stuff that is well beyond what we have in the modern day like ORB, but it doesn't seem evenly distributed given the lack of electric lights.

Oh, Meowth knew where that train of thought was leading. That's only because I'm not really trying to be a snooty, nosy person, unlike you, Politoed was telling himself.

Now you’ve gone and got me wondering just how accurate Owth's reads on others' internal thoughts are or not. Since he's been getting in a lot of those this chapter and I'm actually not sure how on-the-mark they're intended to be.

"Music? That's what you guys want?" Jermy, across from Meowth, was sitting straight up. "Well, I have good news for you! We've got a music player right here!"

"You don't mean that funky little robot of yours, don't you?" Breloom asked.

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

Wew, is there anything that ORB can't do? Aside from the obvious of not openly snark at others? :V

"Nah, I mean you, buddy! Hit them with some nice idle music!" Jermy commanded.

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

Ah yes, casual depression. Just what everybody needs while sitting around and idling. ^^;

Dula Steppinbeech? What kind of name was that? For that matter, what kind of music was this? He understood the guitars and the drums, but this lead instrument was entirely foreign to him. It was shrill, with a twang to it that held a lot of power.

Matthew was nodding his head to it approvingly. "Oh, hell yeah, harmon-pop!" he said. "Haven't heard anything like this in years."

Oh, it's harmonica music, isn't it? Since at first I wasn't sure what 'harmon-pop' was, but that would certainly fit "shrill, with a twang to it".

"Harmon-pop?" Joey asked. "Sounds corny."

Joey, who on earth do you think you're talking to given what you've seen of Matt's taste in puns? >:V

"Can't you tell by the name? Harmonica-based popular music." Matthew spoke with a relaxed confidence, as if all of them were supposed to know what this 'harmonica' was. "Didn't last long, but while it did, people figured out you can pop off with a harmonica."

Yeah, I called it. So how badly is Owth
:TailsEww:
-ing at this music playing from ORB right about now anyways? o<o

[ ]

"I can't say I'm familiar with the style, but I don't mind the vibe," Breloom said.

She was already getting into that mode Meowth was all too familiar with. Her claw-like hands plucked strings that weren't there, her observant ear helping her feel the piece out. Her hands leapt from one nonexistent string to another, following the backing track as if she was performing it herself. Naturally, Politoed followed suit, idly humming some kind of tune in-line with the song. It was a state they were always in whenever music got involved back in the day. These two couldn't just sit there and listen if it killed them.

Assuming that that's a nod to that one fanart of a Breloom playing a banjo from forever ago, nice taste there. Though I kinda wonder if it'd have made more sense to describe Breloom and Politoed starting to get into things a bit before they go full rocking out.

Breloom: "Come on, Meowth! Join in, it's fun!" ^^
Owth: "I'd rather choke down a hairball, thanks." >_>;

Meowth noticed Matthew watching Breloom in wonder. That cubone was the one to recognize Jermy's music before anybody else. For that matter, before Politoed and Breloom. That was certainly unusual, considering their constant self-exposure to music of all kinds. Where did this music come from, for them to have no recognition after listening to just about every genre on Solceus? Unless—

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

Oh, so this music is an import from Earth, huh? Makes me wonder what else has come to Solceus from it in terms of cultural influence.

Meowth sent death glares at Politoed. He was finally coming to a revelation, and here he comes, crashing his train of thought! As if the humming wasn't enough, now he was singing.

"They're tired of hiding, there's nowhere else to run…" Either Politoed couldn't see him or he was ignoring him.

Wait, so Owth is also aware of the existence of Earth himself? Since I'm pretty sure that that's the implication from how he's starting to come to a realization before Poli knocks him off his train of thought.

"Are you coming up with that on the fly? That's nuts!" Jermy remarked.

"He's got a gift," Breloom said. "I can give him a couple chords and he goes flying."

inb4 this actually winds up being used in the plot for something important. As improbable-sounding as it seems on its face, it does feel like a pretty curious character attribute to focus on, especially since it would imply that Poli might be good at improvising at other things.

Matthew looked even more awestruck than he did before. "You sing...and you play guitar." The cubone paused, listening to the music building up to a clim— "I see songbirds in green, two golden gleams — la la la-la, la la la-laaa…"

Wait, how does Breloom manage that with 4 digits total anyways? Since that must make playing complex chords a giant pain.

Meowth sunk deeper into his chair. Now the cubone was singing, too, and he didn't even seem to have the rhythm down. He wanted to shut them up — he spotted people staring — but didn't have the guts to go through with it.

I mean, you could slink out of the lobby and get some air, just saying, Owth. :V

Politoed, on the other hand, laughed at the cubone's attempt at song. "Not bad for a newbie. Lots of room for improvement, though."

"Newbie?!" Mathew straightened himself. "Boy, I've been in the industry longer than you've been alive. I'm just rusty, is all. If I was more ready, I'd make up lyrics a shit-ton better than yours!"

Image


Politoed was clearly bemused, as if this comparison somehow meant something. [ ]

"Quite a big challenge you're making there." Politoed was clearly bemused, as if this comparison somehow meant something.

"Yeah Math, don't bite off more than you can chew," Breloom advised.

[ ]

"What did you just call me?!" Mathew asked Breloom, bewildered.

I would advise pulling Poli's post-dialogue description forward and more explicitly showing off Matt going full
:REElithe:
about being called 'Math' there. Though I'm starting to think that 'Mathew' with one 't' might indeed have been deliberate so I will stop correcting instances I see of it.

"I take it that means you would prefer Mat?"

[ ]

"N-No, Math is fine, I guess…"

Would also make sense to show Matt's reaction there. Since I originally assumed he was significantly more pissed than this, which makes the way that he backed down read a bit weird to me. Being explicit about stuff like body language or reaction would go a long way to eliminate that sense of ambiguity.

... Though I just realized, but is this still being written from Owth's perspective? Since if so, it might have been fun to see things framed more from his perspective, since you'd think he'd have more commentary to himself about Matt getting dumb nicknames.

Jermy leaned towards his creation. "Hey ORB, could you start the track over?" In no time at all, the song stopped abruptly. The same intro as before started playing again. Meowth wasn't sure what that was for, but he imagined it wouldn't do much for getting eyes off of them.

Mathew rose to his feet, a wry grin on his face. "Hey, Politoed. I know a way we can figure out who's the better song-improvisor."

Politoed, seeming to catch Mathew's drift, followed suit. "Oh, it's on, Mathew."

... Actually, wait. Why is Jermy starting the song over unprompted? Was Jermy meant to say this after Matt and Poli proposed the idea of doing an improv-off? Since I feel as if I'm missing something here.

The two planted themselves across from each other. The cubone tried to make himself look tall and confident, while Politoed remained calm and unfazed.

Hold on. No, they aren't — "Oh, you have to be kidding." Meowth threw his head back, dread and embarrassment already overtaking him.

Owth: "Yeah, I think this is the part where I should just get up and step outside for a while-"
:FearfulMeowth:


[ ]

"Wait, what's fixing to happen right now?" Joey asked in blissful ignorance.

Meowth gave the simplest answer he could. "It's a song-battle."

It might make sense to give a reminder of Joey's presence such as him looking over at Owth or tugging at him or something, since I'll admit I did a double take seeing him pop up again abruptly like that.

Joey: "Why that sounds fun! I reckon that I oughta join in-"
:totopoggers:

Owth: "No! Don't you even dare!"
:seviAAAAAAAAAAA:


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

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

Owth:
Image

Joey: "Keep it up!" ^^

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

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

Owth: "... Should've taken the opportunity to step outside during this."
:PainedCabot:


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

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

Everyone's enjoying this right now except Owth, huh? :V

The song put an end to the chorus. The harmonica paused to give the guitar a solo, one Breloom was clearly enjoying. During the clear break, the crowd gave Mathew and Politoed a modest applause, with some whoops and hollers to boot. Joey and Jermy clapped with them.

"Wow, y'all crack lines harder than an egg scrambled in a weasel's arms!" the totodile remarked.

Yeah, I knew it. :P

Owth: "What on earth is wrong with you all?!"
:WHY:

Joey: "What? It's fun!" ^^

Meowth couldn't understand their enthusiasm. He, for one, hadn't cringed more times consecutively in years.

Man, can I call 'em or what?
:lultias:


"Thanks much!" Politoed said, aimed as much to the general audience as it was to Joey. "Got an opinion on which one of us did better?"

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

Owth: "I vote that you both lose and never do that again, much less in public." >_>;
Matt: "Okay, let's pick a judge other than that guy."
:why~1:


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

Mr. Persian's going to waltz down and ask for an encore, isn't he?

"Oh, no, we're giving attention to his business. You know that's what he wants, right?" The layer of sarcasm dripping from Politoed's tone was palpable. He turned to Mathew and noted, "Got a candidate in Meowth. Certainly does a great job figuring out which things he doesn't like."

:burned~1:


Yeah, Owth kinda walked right into that one.

Meowth refused to take that sitting down. Not when he just said such a thing in front of an entire audience. "Don't act like you know a thing about why my father does what he does. You know him as well as I do. If you really care that much, we can ask him if he's bothered when we're not surrounded by a crowd!"

"And there's the fun police." Breloom's arms were at their sides, having all but given up the air guitar. "I had a sneaking feeling they'd show up eventually."

Owth: "I am not the 'fun police'!"
:hissssss:

Breloom: "Could've fooled me with how much of a pill you're being right now, Meowth." ¬_¬

The cues for Wilting Woes' second verse came and went. Mathew didn't sing, too frazzled by this exchange. Any excitement in the bystanders swiftly evaporated was all but lost. Jeers sputtered from their lips — some disappointed, some irritated — as they slowly dispersed. Meowth didn't care. He let Breloom make his point then and there.

Wait, jeers at Matt + Poli or at Owth? Since the phrasing is a little unclear. Though you probably don't want 'all but lost' there since that's synonymous with 'almost lost'. It's just flatly gone based off the rest of the paragraph.

Joey was left disappointed. "Agh. People have gotta learn how to be nice…"

"I'll say," Mathew said, not taking his eyes off of Politoed. His grip on his bone club slid back to the sharp end. "That's a little bit overkill, isn't it?"

"Maybe. I don't really care at this point," Politoed admitted. "We've been at this for years now."

Wait, so Owth has just been raining on Poli's parade for his public performances for literal years at this point? I'm surprised the rest of the gang puts up with that. ^^;

Jermy once more tapped ORB's side. "Hey ORB, can you…?"

"Way ahead of you." Wilting Woes cut out. "I can sense the tension in everybody's auras, but even if I couldn't, I can tell just by how much crowd they just repelled in the last twenty seconds."

Oh, I guess the harmon-pop really was audience repellent there. Maybe. A little surprised that they bothered to gather around in the first place instead of just looking over from their respective places and then going full "turn that crap off!"

Mathew continued to press Politoed. "Years?"

The crowned frog sighed before elaborating. "Meowth and the two of us have a bit of history. The three of us were all roommates back in Higher Ed. Always cooped himself up in our dorm. Couldn't ask him to join us for anything. Was like he didn't even exist."

- Matt looks at Owth and then back at Poli -
Matt: "Wait, but he's literally right here now. So what on earth changed-?" Poli: "Was just getting to that, really."

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

Sounds like a totally healthy party dynamic there! /s

Though if you're doing third person limited narration, we probably shouldn't be seeing this from Matt's perspective right now since there hasn't been a scene break. While some degree of head hopping is fine in third person omniscient narration (I didn't think that was what you were going for based off the Prologue + Chapter 1, but...), it might require a bit more of a transition in order to get into the narrator telling about things going on in Matt's head than this.

So why was Mathew looking at him like that? Where was the contempt in his eyes?

"Okay, but is that really a bad thing?" the cubone asked. "If I had to go back to academia, I wouldn't mind a roommate that kept his head down."

Oh wait, nevermind, this is still being written from Owth's perspective. The "detest Meowth" part from the last section threw me a bit at first.

"I reckon there's a reason he keeps quiet all the time," Joey added.

"He just doesn't know what he's missing out on," Breloom said. "We've tried to help him out dozens of times and he just rejects us constantly. It's anything but fun to live with somebody like that."

Ah yes, this sounds like a healthy™️ team right about now. Totally isn't going to wind up causing problems in the future.

Neither Mathew nor Joey responded, but somehow Meowth still sensed something between them. What was this? Disagreement?

"Ready to talk about something else…?" Politoed asked, slumping back into his beanbag chair.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Mathew was seated as well. Just as quickly as the feeling had appeared, it was gone.

I might be tripping, but Poli's line there reads more like a question than a statement, and it might make sense to adjust the speech tags accordingly.

"Did a nice job with the song-battle!" Politoed said. "Was a lot better than I thought it'd turn out."

"Thanks!" Mathew smiled warmly. "Usually I'm the one strumming along, so I'm a little rusty. That means a hell of a lot."

Breloom perked up, an eager glint in her eye. "You play?"

"Sure do. I haven't in a while though."

[ ]

"Nice! You'll have to show us sometime. I'm always down to listen to somebody else shred for once."

I would suggest showing Breloom react a bit more explicitly in standalone description or else bring up Owth's reaction to this, since most of this entire block and the immediate paragraphs before and afterwards are dialogue or dialogue and embedded description. Breaking it up in between might help keep the readers more "on their toes", so to speak.

"Can see the whole 'rusty' element you were talking about," Politoed said. "Normally I'd advise reading lots of books to get a bigger vocabulary in that noggin of yours, but you're an engineer. Of course you read."

"For that matter, I caught a couple phrases in there I don't think I've heard of before." Breloom put a claw to the bottom tip of her mouth. "What's 'crowned ass' mean to you, by the by?"

Huh, so the curses/profanity here in Solceus are noticeably different from Earth given that Breloom doesn't understand the meaning of Matt's throwaway comment there. Duly noted.

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

Breloom: "... So your song line earlier was 'Sit your king of the donkeys down'? Really?"
:heliodoubt:

Matt: "Y-Yup! Totally!"
:fearfullaugh~1:

Joey: "(Matt, you really need to work at telling more convincing lies.)" ¬_¬

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

Matt: "(Oh thank god, he actually bought it.) Um... I'm self-taught?" ^^;

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

Narrator:
Image


Though wait, why is Matt so afraid about being open about being from Earth anyways? Since I could've sworn that it wasn't mentioned anywhere earlier by him or the narration that the locals didn't view Earthlings highly, so it makes his reflexive paranoia a bit weird here.

Though then again, I suppose that we wouldn't really be able to get a reminder of that thought process anyways since the narration here is from Owth's perspective.

Politoed opened his mouth to ask another question, but he was interrupted.

"We're finally back!"

Minichino's voice reverberated through the lobby, grabbing everyone's attention. The Club met all together in the center of the room, letting the bystanders move to the sides to avoid them. In Demurke's wings were a set of papers. Meowth noticed she was carrying more than just three.

IMO, this works better splitting off Minichino's dialogue into its own thing. I kinda wonder if there should've been more of a reminder of "right, we're waiting on Minichino and Demurke" at one or two points in the part of the scene up to this point though, since I kinda did a double take at this when I first read it.

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

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

Joey: "Oh yeah! Matt and your Politoed friend were going to town in a-"
Owth:
Image


"Nothing happened, so let's just talk about the paperwork, okay?"

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

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

Owth: "Dad, would it have killed you to just give them a clipboard-?" >_>;
Mr. Persian: "This way! Wouldn't want to keep you waiting further, now would I?" ^^;

Mr. Persian led them deeper into the lobby. Past the wall dividing the reception desk from the resort was a large, open area coated with black and white tiled flooring, in stark contrast to the smaller, more homely lobby area at the front. The aesthetic of the building was a clever blend of comfort and spectacle — that was the one thing Meowth would give him credit for.

To their left, the wall opened up to a sizable restaurant area. The white cloth layered atop the tables suggested its fanciness, as did the empty podium in the back awaiting late-night performers.

"Oh, wow," Mathew muttered.

Owth: "... Dad, are they signing contracts or about to put on a song and dance routine right now?" .-.
Joey: "Maybe both at this rate, but boy does this all look swanky." ^^

"I see you've noticed our dining room," Mr. Persian commented. He paused in front of the entrance, giving a small bow to the receptionist. "It seems rather nice, yes? It's much like a mini-Silvalla's, if you've ever eaten there. Our catalog is rapidly growing, though — perhaps we will outmatch it someday."

So 'Silvalla's is a fine dining chain in this setting. Noted, and wonder if/when we're going to see one later in this story.

"Maybe we should eat there!" Joey exclaimed.

"I've seen the menu," Meowth commented. "The food here is more expensive. I hope you're prepared to break your banks on it."

Joey's enthusiasm dropped. "Oh."

I think there's some ambiguity in Joey's line, since it's interpretable as either "let's eat at the dining room" or "let's eat at Silvalla's". It might have made sense to put in more context clues to make it more blatant he was talking about the dining room.

"I suppose you'll just have to give both a try sometime. Now then, let's not lose focus." Mr. Persian proceeded in leading the strangers onwards.

"Yeah! The sooner we get you hired, the better!" Minichino exclaimed.

Wow, not even offering them a first meal on the house. I see Mr. Persian's a cheap one.
:copyka:


The group was filtered into a hallway with glass walls revealing treadmills and weights for bipeds and quadrupeds alike on the left and candle-lit beddings ripe for massages on the right. The trio of new employees just kept on marveling, easily impressed. Go figure — this path to application also seemed to double as a tour of the hotel.

I mean, it is Mr. Persian's pride and joy, so can you really blame him? o<o

Just as they arrived at the back of the hotel, where a door between them and a glistening pool begged to be pushed open, Mr. Persian veered left into a narrower hallway. "Here we are," he said, pushing a different door ajar.

Unlike the lavish interior they had just passed by, the office before them was much more akin to the rest of the resort. A number of bean bag chairs were similarly splayed out in front of a mahogany desk. The green walls were lined with picture frames holding photos of people Meowth didn't recognize. Two clear windows, close enough for a view of the pool area, brought in rays of warm light. It was one of those rooms that felt like home, until you tried to sink your paws in the carpet floor only to and found out it's layered too thin for comfort. Or else ran into some other spartan feature that reminded you that this is you were in an office that conducted business and the home you were thinking of was just a distant memory.

Oh, that's a positive omen for what Owth's family life was like. /s

Though I would suggest a few small rephrasings here and there for the second paragraph.

Yeah...one of those rooms. And what better to couple the twisted memories it drew out with an assembly of every person he had ever faced a scuffle with all packed into one room? His father and Demurke, Politoed and Breloom, Minichino… The whole menagerie was here. In the two-week life span of the Club, this was actually a rarity, since Mr. Persian seldom chatted with them outside of his business conduct. All of them, brought together by a trio of strangers who hadn't found a reason to hate him...yet.

... Wait, scuffles with ferals or with his coworkers? Since if it's the latter, I have to wonder how on earth Owth hasn't gotten summarily canned, since you'd think that would get on everyone else's nerves fast.
:copyber:


Meowth was the first to drop into one of the beanbag chairs, promptly sinking into it just the same as the one in the lobby. Next to him, Joey stretched out his arms and fell back into another chair as if to trust-fall it. Mathew and Jermy presumably took the other chairs, though he couldn't be bothered to double-check. He didn't need to look up to know Mr. Persian took a seat behind his desk, with Minichino and Demurke surely at his sides, leaving the couple two chairs in the back.

The cat's eyes glazed over as the others jubilantly talked all about the Pick-it Up Club's activities and requirements. What was there for Meowth to learn that he didn't already know? They visited mystery dungeons based on Minichino's ability to sense the aura of Solceus itself or whatever, then cleaned the dungeon. The whole process was officially endorsed by the Kalmwa'er Service Guild, who provided them with some supplies and staff so long as they also cleaned the town from time to time. All merely on-the-tin—

I... didn't realize that Minichino could do that. I'm honestly a little surprised that that didn't come up at all or else get hinted at in the earlier bit when they were still in the boonies.

"Uh, I have a question," Joey said. "What's a mystery dungeon?"

[ ] Oh, now that was a question indeed. How didn't you know that, Joey? he was so tempted to ask, but not now. He'd need Joey alone for a question like that.

Might have merited having Owth shoot an aside glance or something at Joey to make this a bit more 'visual' right about now, since this is presumably really weirding him out at the moment.

"I can explain that!" Minichino said. "Mystery dungeons are these weird places that totally change at noon and midnight. There are two kinds, based on how much the dungeon will mess up your mind if you get stuck in it!"

"Huh," Mathew said. "So people in there just go crazy, like those wingull we—"

"Exactly like those wingull you escaped from," ORB said.

Oh, so Dungeon Madness is a thing in this setting.

... Wait, but then why would anyone ever want to go in one? Are there harvestable materials inside or something?
:copyber:


"…Oh." Something about that clearly made Mathew as uncomfortable as he was when Politoed had asked about his history with music.

Did Matt know someone on earth who lost their mind somehow? Since that sure affected him more than I would've expected from his initial impression in the past two chapters.

"No worries," Jermy said, soothing Mathew's concern. "With a bit of practice and experience, you'll get along in dungeons just fine!"

Image


Since... yeah, I'm not convinced that it's not super easy to wind up getting lost in places like those and turning into the next random encounters.

"Okay, that's good," Mathew said, dispelling the stress from his voice. Meowth thought he heard Breloom whisper something to Politoed, but couldn't make it out from this distance.

That's going to become relevant before this chapter's over, isn't it?

"Anyhow, now that our explanations are out of the way, we have one more matter to discuss." Mr. Persian leaned in slightly. "The matter of living accommodations. If you are going to stay here for some time, you two most likely need a place to stay, yes?"

"That's right," Jermy answered. "The three of us will stick together!"

This is going to lead to a sales pitch of staying in a hotel room which will """generously""" be deducted from their pay, isn't it?

"In that case… I'd like to make an offer. There are a few rooms on the upper floor of my resort prepared for fellows staying long term. Would you like to stay here? For a small price, of course."

:hoodLUL:


Yeah, I had a feeling. Boy, Mr. Persian really is cheap.

So that was his game here? He was going to provide Mathew and Joey living accommodations. There was the missing link he had been looking for — his father had shattered all doubt in his involvement. Whatever this was, it was something greater than just the Club.

Pic related, it's Mr. Persian's game:

tom-and-jerry-money.gif


Owth: "Well that much is obvious since he's not giving us the rooms for free, but no. There's something else he's after right now. I just don't know what..."
:IreHmmm:


"Trust me, g-guys, the rooms here are lovely. The staff works really hard on them…" Demurke said, pretending like Mathew and Joey had a say in the matter.

"Sounds convenient enough to live and work at the same place," Mathew said.

"Yepperoni!" Jermy agreed. "So, what kind of price are we talking about here?"

It's going to be something like half their current salary, isn't it?

Mr. Persian reached for a pen and clenched it in his mouth. As his father punched the numbers, Meowth realized that he had come to a crossroads. He could either keep quiet about how much he had figured out, or he could try interrupting this plan. Regardless of his choice, Mathew and Joey would be valuable assets. Since they were so new to the job, they were more likely to have loose lips compared to, say, Jermy. That meant he had to keep those two's opinions of him as high as he could until he got what he needed. He had already made one scene today, so it'd be wise to—

Oh, so Matt and Joey are just going to casually wreck whatever Owth is planning here right now, aren't they?

Mr. Persian paused his scribbling for a moment. The two of them locked eyes. The pen in his mouth couldn't hide the expression.

That smile. That stupid smile. Taunting him. Telling Meowth, I'm about to slip this part of my master plan right in front of you and you won't even know.

Forget subtleties.

So are there visible Poké signs in Mr. Persian's eyes or something? Since he sure seems eager to scam the crew out of their wages right about now.

"Why don't you three stay at my own home?" Meowth proposed, rising. The room went quiet, processing what he had just said.

"Wha- why would- I-I-I don't understand…" Minichino was dumbfounded. "Why are you offering them a place while they're clearly looking at something else?"

Owth: "Minichino, from just the walk in through the hotel, do you reasonably expect Matt and Joey to afford a hotel room here on a handyman's salary?"
:gardexhausted:

Minichino: "But Mr. Persian didn't even give a quoted price yet! I'm sure he'd cut a special deal for them!"

"Yeah…" Jermy fumbled for a statement. "Meowth, that's really nice of you, but—"

"What kind of house do you live in, Meowth?" Joey asked.

Live look at Mr. Persian in the background:
Image


Interest. There was the momentum he needed.

"I live in a condo in the upper side of town, which you seemed fond of earlier," Meowth began to explain. "I have enough spare rooms to fit all three of you. You would lose out on the proximity to the job, but you'd get back a clear view of the town, a filled kitchen, and individual rooms."

[ ]

"You'd have a short walk to the gondola, so the beach and the rest of town are always within reach," he continued. "And, most importantly, my father already pays the expenses for the condo, so all three of you would live rent-free."

Would suggest splitting up Owth's dialogue and putting something in between as a standalone paragraph since that feels like a lot of continuous dialogue from him to get out with no reactions or interruptions, especially since he's presumably keenly watching Matt and Joey for how they're reacting to know whether / how to continue pressing his case to them.

Mr. Persian, finally broken out of his stunned silence, spoke first. "Well, Meowth, that's certainly a very generous offer. Unfortunately, these three cannot take such an offer because—"

"I'll take it."

Now it was Mathew's turn to hold everyone's attention. The cubone rose up, joining Meowth.

Mr. Persian: "Cubone, I assure you, my son means well, but he's making an offer you can't accept-"
:eltyunamused:


Matt: "No, no. It sounded pretty good to me. How about he talks through a bit more of the nitty-gritty before I make a decision?"

"Now wait just a minute," Breloom said from the back. "Don't tell me you don't remember what we were warning you about earlier. Are you sure you want the fun sucked right out of you?"

"And you'd mess up our schedule living somewhere else!" Jermy proclaimed.

Rather than Mathew, it was Joey who piped up, asking ORB, "How much do you reckon Mathew and I would actually mess it up?"

ORB: "Do you want the straight answer, or the one that won't hurt your feelings?"
Matt: "... You care about others' feelings? Since when?"
:judgemander~1:


"The primary interference would be more limited access to Club facilities for recreational purposes. Aside from that, alongside increased travel times to and from the resort lobby, interference would be relatively limited."

"ORB!" Jermy exclaimed. "Why would you encourage them?!"

Because ORB doesn't want to put up with harmon-pop sing-offs night and day? Sounds like a pretty good argument to me. :V

"I'm a fact-checker, Jermy, not a brainwasher," the robot snapped back.

Mathew listened to all this, nodding away, before answering Politoed's question.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, you two, but I've literally just met Meowth. All I know about him is that he was thoughtful enough to come check on Jermy and Demurke, voiced when he felt we were making a scene, and offered us a house for free. Before I call him a piece of shit, I want to know he's a piece of shit. Does that make any sense?"

Owth: "... Okay, I'm having second thoughts about this idea right now-" >.<
Matt: "Ah-ah-ah! No takebacks!"

[ ]

"You want to see for yourself if he's as bad as we say." Politoed nodded. "Kind of get that. Just try not to get burned."

"Oh, trust me, I can see scum from miles away." Mathew turned to Jermy. "Here's the deal. If Meowth ends up being scum, we can go with the plan and live here in the Resort. Got it?"

[ ]

"I like that deal, Mathew," Joey said.

IMO, it probably makes sense to show the teammates reacting to these comments a bit more explicitly. Though how on earth has the Pick-it Up Club survived these past two weeks given that everybody on it hates Owth to the point that they're flatly warning Matt and Joey to avoid him?
:copyka2:


"Uh… Um…" Jermy was clearly not in approval, but lacked the spine to tell them no. The three of them were playing right into his hands. Meowth tried to hide a grin.

"…Excuse me," Mr. Persian said, standing up. "Meowth, could we speak for a moment in private?"

Owth: "... Wait, you mean right now-?"
Mr. Persian: "Yes. Right now."
:litglare:


Meowth shrugged. "Sure."

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

"Before I say anything, I want to say that your pitch was incredible and I'm very proud of you," Mr. Persian said quietly. "That being said… What are you trying to do here, Meowth?!"

IMO, this middle paragraph might merit expanding, since it would probably make sense to mention whether or not Mr. Persian closed the door and what his initial expression was since that would clue in Owth as to how deep of trouble he's in right now or not.

"What does it look like? I'm taking matters into my own hands," Meowth said. "I've made my case and it sounds like they liked it."

[ ]

"Please, can you go back there and retract your statement?"

"No."

Would be nice to see how Mr. Persian's expression is right now, since I didn't get the vibe at first that he was being this earnest with Owth.

"Meowth, you don't understand. I have to—"

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

His father looked like he was about to blow a gasket. The expression was gratifying. "Meowth, what in the world made you think all this was about—?!"

Kek, so the Tom and Jerry gif earlier was onto something.
:loltias:


"Mr. Persian, sir!" Suddenly, Demurke stumbled into the conversation, driving a wedge between them. "I… I think we should a-allow Meowth to take Mathew, Joey, and Jermy in."

Mr. Persian was taken aback. "But what about the…?"

... Wait, what on earth does Demurke do for Mr. Persian such that he respects her opinion this much and isn't summarily going "sit down and shut up" right now?

"Meowth m-made a good case. Mathew and Joey would probably be a lot b-better off there…" Demurke nodded, as if trying to assure herself of her own stance. "It wouldn't be h-hard to work around them being a couple minutes away. Besides...it might be better for…"

Demurke refused to finish her sentence, but with the way she and Mr. Persian were looking at him and each other, it sounded like the conversation had finished in their eyes. Better for what?

Would recommend hacking this up into two pieces here. Though now I'm curious as to what the point Demurke was trying to make since it's certainly not better for Mr. Persian's bottom line, even if I haven't figured out what his ulterior motive is right now other than Demurke seems to be in on it.

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

"Thanks," Meowth said. "They'll prove to be of great help to me." He turned around to open the door, leading the three of them back into the office.

Owth: "Well, that went smoother than expected. Wasn't expecting that from dad, really."
:meowthink:


Behind him, his father mumbled lament, louder than he probably intended. "Oh, Meowth… Why must you torment me in the strangest of ways?"

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

Owth: "Meh, it pissed off dad. Good enough for me, really. I'll worry about the catch later."

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

"Guys," Jermy said. "Are you really sure this is what you want to do? We can probably still go—"

"Don't wanna hear it!" Mathew stormed into the condo, sending the backpack flying out of Joey's hands. "I didn't lug this giant-ass thing all the way back up just to go back down!"

Awaiting him was Meowth's kitchen with a table surrounded by drawers, sinks, and microwaves; beyond that, the house opened up to a cozy living room with a couch and a television. The back wall was composed entirely of glass, giving a full view of Kalmwa'er's lower half.

Oh, so there is an actual scene break in this chapter. Though I guess Owth wasn't kidding about his pad being nice. For a while, I was expecting it to turn out to be a total dive in spite of being in the nice part of town.

"Wow, this is real nice!" Joey said behind Mathew, taking in their new living accommodations. "Er… You have two microwaves?"

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

Joey: "And you didn't put the extra microwave in a closet or something because...?"
:joltyshrug~1:

Owth: "Oi, I said don't question it." >_>;

Jermy sighed. "This is really what we settled with…"

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

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

ORB: "Oh no, whatever will I do without having to hear the little bonehead and his sing-offs-? I mean, yeah, should've thought of that earlier, Jermy."

"Come on…man!" Mathew exclaimed, dragging his backpack into the living room. "He gave this…to us…for free!"

Meowth watched as Mathew paused and whirled his head around the living room. The floor plan was L-shaped — branching off from the main living space, there were two rooms blocked by doors on the side walls, and a staircase on the right led up to more.

"Hey Meowth, where can I settle down?" he asked after soaking it in.

Matt, have you ever considered that 'you get what you pay for' is an idiom for a reason? Even from Owth's own PoV, it was really obvious that he has an ulterior motive to you being here, and I'm not sure it's necessarily in your and Joey's best interests.

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

Wow, Mr. Persian is loaded if he can set up his kid with digs like these. I'm surprised he didn't cheap out and get him a studio apartment.

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

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

What next, does Owth have a vault where he does money angels in his spare time? Since boy is this crib making me jealous right now.

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

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

"Yes?" Meowth asked.

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

Oh, so Solceus still operates off of PMD canon standards for bedding, I see. Definitely a bit of a reminder that at the end of the day that we're not dealing with humans here.

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

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

Owth: "Yes...? What on earth did you expect me to sleep in?"
:eltywtf:


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

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

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

Oh, so Owth does know that Matt and Joey aren't from Solceus. Or at least he suspects it. Though I wonder how they're going to take finding out that Owth is basically only showing them kindness like this as a means to an end with his tiff with his dad.

And that's the end of Chapter 2. A bit chunky, but it was nice at getting into the head of someone from Solceus proper, especially for a new character that I suspect we're going to see a lot more of. As you probably gathered already, there were some technical quibbles that I had, but let's get to that after dwelling on the stuff that was done well first.

The main draw behind this chapter is that it basically introduces the readers to the rest of the Pick-it Up Club, and gives some insight as to what they're like and why they're even operating to begin with. Since I gather that both Owth and his dad have ulterior motives for wanting to be around Matt and Joey, even if I didn't quite get solid ideas of why beyond that it's probably something involving "something something, they're Earthlings".

I also liked the worldbuilding on display in this chapter, since it does a pretty good job of selling a "modern life" PMD, gives some implications of how on earth this is all possible given the implication that harmon-pop came in to Solceus from Earth (and by extension that there are other things that have similarly arrived) while at the same time giving reminders here and there that at the end of the day Solceus' residents fundamentally aren't human. It's a tack that isn't done very frequently in the fandom, and this take is pretty fun to see, even if I kinda wish we had gotten to see a bit more of Kalmwa'er on the way into the hotel.

As for the criticism... the general criticisms that I have with this chapter are by and large the same as the ones as in chapter 1. There's the same occasional verb tense issues and parts where the ability to visualize things or pick up on cues from a scene are impaired a bit from a lack of explicit description or internal thoughts.

I have similar thoughts regarding the first scene of this Chapter as I did with Chapter 1's content, namely that it feels like it should really be several scenes, especially since there's multiple parts that jump time and place like the flashback sequence, or the part where things abruptly cut 10 minutes ahead in the lobby that are more or less exactly the sort of case where you would want to use hard scene breaks.

A part of me wonders a bit if this is a chapter that might've made sense to expand by an extra 2000-3000 words and dividing things into two pieces. Since everything from the "ten minutes later" part and on is roughly 5000 words long and the actual "welcome to Kalmwa'er" part is heavily glossed over. You would think that it'd be a moment that would be very exciting from Matt and Joey's perspective since it's their first time getting a solid look at an alien civilization (whereas the entire chapter is specifically from the perspective of one specific Solcean native), seeing the ways it resembles their own, and the ways it differs. Which considering the absolute state of Reno in the Prologue... might have also acted as a way to indirectly worldbuild things from Matt or Joey's end if they see something that we'd find completely normal like kids playing together on the sidewalk and then one of them stops and double-takes since that hasn't happened in years for them thanks to their neighborhoods being anarchic crapholes with armed marauders breezing through every Tuesday.

Though I won't begrudge you two for opting to just opt to take those lessons and apply it for the future, since rewrite-itis is a hell of a trap to fall into. And for what it's worth, I felt that even with its present warts, Chapter 2 did a decent job at preparing the ground for getting the gang neck deep into Solceus and its trash heaps. And I'll be looking forward to where you and Dommy took things from here @LukerUpgradez .
 

Arukona

A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
Location
Ardalion
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. aggron
  2. sceptile
  3. lucario
So this is a fic that’s been on my radar for a while. I alas wasn’t able to get around to it during the TR Review Blitz, but a Review Event on Union has given me another opportunity to give this fic a read.

So let’s get into it! This’ll mainly be a ‘react-as-I-read’ sort of review.





Prologue

So firstly we’re thrust into the world of a human, which seems to be quite a bleak one. The mentions of street lights being harvested sticks out to me - what could this mean? From the mention of the world alone, I’m almost tempted to believe this setting is almost a dystopian one. Could it be the reuse of materials in a society scarce of them?

Though hard to see, the man could make out two figures standing in the street in front of his driveway. He couldn't make out who they were, but he knew what they were here for. He shook his head at their ignorance, but he couldn't drop the constricting sense of dread. So the man just stood there, unmoving, watching.

Shady figures are never a good thing to see. Who are they, debt collectors or people along those lines? Further adding to this feel of a miserable world this man lives in. By the sounds of it…fertile grounds of motivation to be isekai’d.

He yawned again — a sign it was time to throw himself at the bed once more. He tossed and turned, but no comfort came. It never would. Many months had passed since this room, now nearly barren besides the bed and a lone dresser, had felt like home.

And the man's mental state’s down the toilet too. The barrenness of the room also implies he’s dirt poor, and he’s awfully depressed to boot. Poor guy. Done in by society.

"Greetings," a voice boomed, seemingly coming from the light itself.

And now the moment of isekai approaches! Which god is gonna pull him to the Pokémon world, I wonder?

"Really? Of all things to imagine, I dream up a guy preaching to me about alternate dimensions made up by a corporation for profit? Good going, me."

You’d be surprised at how many of us fanfic writers preach that, too…

These blueprints are for a portal generation device designed to allow you to create a rip in this universe and jump into another. This rip will allow to venture into my world: Solceus."

Huh. That’s a bit different than what normally goes on in most fanfics, where the god transports the human to their world without any problem. Seems our human has to go about this in a more scientific fashion. Interesting! How could this possibly go wrong for him?

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

2064? That’s quite a long way in the future. So far away that it succeeds the destruction of the Earth in a war between two alien forces by about ten years. Then again, it also precedes a glitchy fallout by twelve years, along with a cybernetic dystopia by thirteen years. So maybe not as far as we think.

He had everything, except...except for…

No, no. He couldn't think about that. It was an awful loss — the hardest part of these eight months — but he was used to that sort of thing,

What could this be referring to, I wonder? Just what could he have lost in this eight-month timeskip? He doesn’t seem to have much that he could lose. Maybe it’s just memories over what he had lost prior to being handed those blueprints eight months ago?

Nobody was outside… Not that it mattered, since he didn't know anybody in this town anymore. Not a soul in the area would really miss him.

A sad life, alright. Time for him to put it all behind him. …But then again, I have an inkling he won’t evade his past so easily.

An interesting prologue to start us off. A good opening to this saga!

Chapter 1

Huh. By the way they’re being described as a ‘boy’...I’m getting the feeling that this isn’t the human from the prologue? Who could this be, then? Unless the human’s been de-aged or something?

But the beach behind him was strewn with bags, boxes, cans, shards of plastic, loose paper prints with unfamiliar logos on them… It was kind of a mess, if the boy wanted to be honest.

This sounds as though he’s still in the dystopian future. More evidence that the point of view for this chapter isn’t the man from the prologue?

By the descriptions, this does feel like a dream sequence. Although by the descriptions of inland trees, maybe this is a lake shoreline?

I am sixteen years old

Definite proof now that this probably isn’t the man from the prologue. Also, this person’s name is Joey - a bit of info to grasp onto for them.

So he’s a Totodile, and now is wearing a dapper hat! That’s a nice look for a croc, I gotta say.

Next to its body was some kind of long, slender club with two nubs at one end, covered in the same material as the mask. Joey began to realize those substances were bones. What was this fellow doing carrying around bones?

Oh, a Cubone! They’re an interesting and underrated ‘mon to put in fics. I wonder how they’re going to feature in this fic. Maybe they’re the human from the prologue?

The cracked skull intrigues me. Is that just a distinguishing feature, or is there a story behind that, I wonder?

"Where in Sam Hill are you going?!" the totodile exclaimed behind him.

Is this Totodile a southerner, using an expression like that? What’s their origin story, I wonder?

The man whirled around. "Hey, are you D.E?!"

Yep, this confirms it. This is our man from the prologue. So two humans, eh? How fascinating…

"Mister, please! Stop!" the totodile exclaimed, this time grabbing Mathew's attention.

Hm. So Mathew’s the name of the Cubone. But no introduction was made for the name beforehand. They’ll introduce themselves in time, no doubt, but revealing the name before that was a slight error.

"Oh yeah, I sure can! Gators can climb trees, and I'm about as close to a gator as a fly to a bus stop next to a lightpost."

Yep, Joey definitely feels like a Southerner. And judging by his knowledge on alligators, most likely from Florida? (Half-tempted to make a Florida Man joke here - or would it be Florida Mon, actually?)

I want to punch Mathew for how monumentally awful those puns were. That was a whole new level of terrible.

The bush was almost as large as his whole body, and yet it had come out as easily as weeds used to back when he had to pluck them from yards. He had even pulled more of the roots cleanly out of the ground than he had anticipated. Was this bush really that weak?

Huh. Guess Mathew gained super strength in his transformation into a Cubone. Or is it just natural Cubone strength? Or maybe the bush really is that weak?

Typical seagulls, or Wingull in this case. Face-punchable material. They really are a bunch of annoying featherheads.

The scrapbook sounds like quite an important item. Given the way Mathew appears to have such a reaction to potentially losing it, perhaps it’s of important sentimental value to him?

Aw, Joey’s just going to give up like that? Lame.

Wow…that is one hell of a coincidence, that these two humans just happened to meet up and knew each other very well from their time as humans.

Do you realize what would happen if you answered his question? he asked himself. He'd get curious and ask for more and more. And then you'll have to tell him about that, and about that, and about...that.

Oh dear, bad happenings in the distant past. No doubt that’ll be teased out over time, and when the circumstances behind it are revealed, I imagine things will get quite emotional.

Hmm. So Joey gives up and climbs down the tree, only to climb back up it again and change his attitude, completely from a minute ago. Some part of me wonders if this flows the best. Just feels a bit strange for Joey to give up and then do a complete volte-face a minute later. I know he wants that scrapbook that Mathew mentioned, but…I do wonder if it might have flowed better if Joey didn’t give up, he and Mathew fought the Wingull, and then had their realisation afterwards. Just my thoughts.

Oh, and help comes at last! Are they natives of this world, or more human-turned Pokémon?

Judging by the mastery of their moves…I’d say the former.

Whomever the third voice was, Mathew didn't see them.

Hm, that’s a curious one. Guess we’ll find out in a moment…

That fight was rather intricate. Not quite a curbstomp victory on behalf of the Murkrow and Pikachu, but a match tilted in their favour. The combat, I will admit, didn’t quite interest me as much as I would have hoped. It could’ve used a little more punch and more action instead of less description, I think.

So Jermy and Demurke are our next two characters, native to this world. How are they gonna mesh with our two humans’ personalities?

And ORB is a curious character. A complete robot, rather than being a robot-like Pokémon. And holy shit, do they have snark. Like, to a level that staggers me. Wow, that is remarkable just how scathing they are.

"You already had breakfast this morning," ORB reminded him. "For that matter, you have already overclocked your daily diet twice in the past week."

"Yeah, but I worked up a sweat electrocuting those wingull!"

Always finding an excuse for more food, eh? I don’t know why I’m always drawn to characters like that. That’s just a personality trait I’m quite fond of.

"The two of us are members of the Scientific Activity and Engagement Society!" Jermy said.

"…The what?" Joey asked. He was already almost finished with the leg.

"Common name: SEAS," ORB elaborated.

Er…the abbreviation doesn’t exactly line up? I can’t help but be a little confused over this. Should it not be SAES? Or is that on purpose, so the people of the world can just pronounce it ‘seas’ easily? It’s a light nitpick.

"David?" Mathew said. It didn't take long to register. D. "His last name wouldn't happen to start with an E, would it?"

"Yup, Emmons!" Jermy said. "He's one of my bosses."

Oh? Another person that Mathew knows? Another human, therefore? Boy, there sure are a lot of them.

"Um…" Demurke was staring at him. Mathew froze, leaving the sandwich half removed, slowly sliding back down into the baggie as they slipped down his peanut butter-coated fingers. "Did you...put p-peanut butter on both sides of the bread?"

What the heck? Officer, I’d like to report a food crime being committed right here. Not the most heinous of ones, but still pretty sinful regardless.

Demurke seems to be a nervous sort, with all of her stuttering.

By the mentions of companies and organisations, along with mentions of science divisions and litter picking from Mystery Dungeons, Solceus seems to be a more modern setting than the average Mystery Dungeon setting.

I wonder if Joey’s parents even made it to Solceus. The mention of them at all makes me wonder if we might well end up seeing them in future…

Wow, that’s quite the city being described. Guess I was right about Solceus being modern.

"Welcome to Kalmwa'er!"

"And before you say a word, there is no emphasis on the T," ORB said. "I repeat: there is no emphasis on the T."

What, did a British person name this city? After all, given how some cities were named by writing down phonetic sounds, that might well have been how Kalmwa’er earned its name. Bit of a theory on my part.

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

And since when had his feelings ever led him astray?

Well, it certainly feels a lot sunnier than his old life, that’s for sure. But if I know how stories go, the skies are going to darken sooner rather than later…

Chapter 2

Ouch, seems Meowth didn’t get the career path he wanted. Poor guy.

Hm, would Breloom really be described as a kangaroo with a mushroom hat? I guess that’s one way to look at them.

Curious as to how names work here. Some seem to just go by their species’ names, whereas some like Jermy and Demurke go by their own names different from that. Other times we have cases like Minichino, where their name is nearly exactly like that of their species’ name. I wonder if that’s a choice for them to make? A matter that might well be cleared up soon enough, I reckon.

Wow, Meowth’s dad sounds like a right asshole. Bet any money he’s gonna be face-punchable material whenever he shows up.

Like a lightswitch, his father's face had flicked from something resembling emotion to a hollowly charismatic grin.

Yep. We have ourselves a right prick on our hands. When can we punch?

And reunited with the four from last chapter. Bit of friction between Joey and Meowth, though that does seem to be par for the course on Meowth’s part.

"Hold up. Co-owner?" Mathew said. "You sound way too young for that."

"What, never seen a fifteen year-old co-owner before?" Her tone was somewhere between a genuine question and an under-handed compliment for herself.

I’m guessing there’s two possibilities for what this could mean. Either there’s great bias in the Pick-it Up Club to allow a fifteen-year old to become the co-owner of the place, or Minichino happens to be a prodigy. The ‘under-handed compliment for herself’ seems to imply she’s a prodigy. And given that Mr. Persian doesn’t seem to have that same bias for his own son, I’m willing to bet that bias doesn’t play a huge role in the Pick-it Up Club’s organisation.

I guess we all have to start somewhere with our jobs, but Joey and Mathew being handed janitor duty right out of the gate is a bit of a bummer alright. Same with Meowth, who looked to have his sights set pretty high but is stuck doing this menial work.

Meowth seems to be a pretty perceptive cat too, based on the way he noticed Mathew dodging his question.

"Man, that sign still looks like shit from here, even up close."

"It's better inside, I promise," Jermy reassured as he made the doors move aside.

Don’t judge a book by its cover, I suppose. Still, would sprucing it up really hurt? Could help the business side of things and all that. But then again, investors aren’t exactly known for their thoughts long term. Something something profits here and now, or what have you.

Which is to say it is entirely expected, Meowth suspected he was thinking. I'm sure this is all going over Meowth's head.

I don’t feel like knowing this is necessary to the flow of the story. Particularly with regarding the supposition of Mr. Persian’s thoughts. If it was described in narration or Meowth’s own inner thoughts, that would be better, I think.

"Put your satchels on the table to your right. I'll pick 'em up when I leave!" Minichino said as the three left them to their own devices.

Ten minutes later…

Meowth's back slowly sank into his chair.

This would be better off spaced apart with a horizontal line. That, or incorporating ‘ten minutes later’ into the next line.

Harmon-pop? Ugh. As one who loathes the sound of a harmonica and most contemporary pop music, I’d probably despise this if it ever came on. Cool name of the song, if nothing else. Though judging by the way Politoed’s singing lyrics, this is a reference to something that I’m not familiar with.

Now the cubone was singing, too, and he didn't even seem to have the rhythm down. He wanted to shut them up — he spotted people staring — but didn't have the guts to go through with it.

Big mood right here. Nothing worse than when a horrible singer thinks they have a good singing voice and lets everyone hear their absolute noise pollution loud and clear.

Oh, god, it’s getting worse. I feel for Meowth right now.

And so the seed was planted. Now that Mathew knew where all the beef came from, he would soon grow to detest Meowth just as much as everyone else. No point trying to prevent it from happening — if somebody else didn't do it, he'd eventually plant the seed himself, intentionally or otherwise.

Seems like Meowth has a bit of a pessimistic streak. I’m gonna guess part of his character arc is learning how to get out of that self-loathing spiral that he seems to be trapped in right now and dispel his shut-in attitude. Is that attitude because of his father, perhaps, or is it misery over the state of his future prospects currently?

Mathew’s getting cagey about revealing his human identity. Understandable - he wouldn’t want people to think he’s a crackpot. Still, using human phrases is going to be a dead giveaway that he might be an oddity.

"Maybe we should eat there!" Joey exclaimed.

"I've seen the menu," Meowth commented. "The food here is more expensive. I hope you're prepared to break your banks on it."

Joey's enthusiasm dropped. "Oh."

Wow, way to kill the enthusiasm there, Meowth. No wonder Politoed and Breloom didn’t take to you at all if you kill the mood like this.

"Mystery dungeons are these weird places that totally change at noon and midnight. There are two kinds, based on how much the dungeon will mess up your mind if you get stuck in it!"

Okay, that’s a bit different than the norm. Those Mystery Dungeons that mess up your minds sound like dangerous places alright.

Forget subtleties.

"Why don't you three stay at my own home?" Meowth proposed, rising. The room went quiet, processing what he had just said.

Somehow I get the feeling being unsubtle in front of his father isn’t exactly the best strat to pull. I wonder if this will end up biting him in the backside later…

On another note, what exactly is the master plan that Mr. Persian’s cooking up?

Before I call him a piece of shit, I want to know he's a piece of shit. Does that make any sense?"

That’s good logic. And that line is pretty solid, I gotta say. Kudos from me there.

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

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

So this world doesn’t have beds. At least not among the common ‘mon.

Yeah, you should get used to it, Mathew, he thought. You three need to get relaxed if I hope to learn anything from you…

It’ll be a long while of cageyness from our humans and a lot of snooping from our resident feline when it comes to the truth. And when the truth comes to light…what will happen then?

Chapter 3

Chapter title implies we’re meeting this David at last. What’s their deal, I wonder?

It was almost like a visage had broken, revealing the family-friendly hotel as some kind of monster trying to...eat them, or something.

Bah, it was exceptionally hard to form a cohesive thought this early in the morning.

For narration, I feel like the ‘bah’ here isn’t necessary. Onomatopoeia and narration should remain separate, in my opinion.

"Yeah, I'm sure Demurke's pretty groggy too!" Jermy said, hoping it made sense.

Murkrow have Insomnia, Jermy. Keep looking for that comeback.

Ah, so David’s a Decidueye. Certainly adds to his shadiness.

"Ah." Joey eyed Mathew. The cubone was staring off at the ceiling and taking discomfitingly long blinks. "That's okay. I reckon I'll piece it together myself. Thanks a bunch for trying, though."

Still suspicious towards Mathew, I see. There’s one hell of a revelation coming when Mathew reveals what really happened to them.

David seems to have his own masterplan involving Mathew. I wonder what it might contain?

"That's enough from you, Jiminy Cricket," David remarked. "Jermy's nose is too long to not give himself away on his own."

Heh. I like the little Pinocchio references.

"I think we should wait...as long as possible to tell Mathew. Getting him out of the resort would m-make that easy."

So the group knows about Mathew’s past. I wouldn’t be surprised if they try and manipulate him. Though that begs the question; how did they get to this world? By the sounds of it, it was prior to Joey and Mathew waking up in that Mystery Dungeon.

"I spy...with my little eye...something tired," Mathew mumbled.

"Mathew, that's the third time you spied yourself," Joey said.

"Yes…"

Come on, Mathew. There surely has to be more things to use in an I-Spy game than yourself three times. I suppose coming from a world of technology, being bored out of their minds would be perfectly in character.

Now Mathew was actually in awe — surrounding them were a multitude of portals, deactivated but fully built.

Wow, portals? This place is looking very nice indeed.

Intriguing coincidence with the D and M names. Is there a reason for that, or is that how the cards fell when naming these characters?

But shirk your duties and perform badly, and...we'll have to put you on the front lines."

"Front lines…" Joey needed a moment for the realization to fully dawn on him. "Y'all have a standing army."

Oh Christ. High stakes if they fail. No pressure, then. And yet…there is an acknowledgement that a war is being fought within this world. That’ll become entangled with the affairs of Joey and Mathew, I’m going to bet.

"Because you two are bulky!" David yelled back. "Just look at those thunder thighs. It'll take more than a simple punch to make you keel over!"

Wow, that’s quite the insult levied towards Mathew. Granted, Cubone aren’t exactly what you’d call slim…(hardly large either, though.)

They commit to seeing things through, even...even when it hurts. Most of them don't d-do that."

I wonder if this has to do with hardening on their parts by their harsh experiences when they’re in the human world. By the sounds of it, Mathew had it rough. I note that we don’t know about Joey’s side of things. Was his experience as rough as Mathew’s?

The flashback with Jermy and Jane was pretty interesting, revealing a bit more about his own character. That said, I feel some distinction could be made between that and the happenings of the present day. It would be a better distinction if the text was italicised.

"Demurke!" David called, turning to her instead. "It's Lesson 1.2. You know what to grab."

Oh boy, we’re not done. These two are gonna be put through the wringer, if the last test was anything to go by.

"That, Mathew and Joey, is a Gate," David said as Demurke finished. "It allows Solceans to tap into the energy of their planet to perform certain functions."

It’s not too unlike the Entercards in application, I think, in the way they draw patterns. Of course it’s not for transportation in this case.

Combine that with our technology, and the possibilities are beyond the imaginable…" That last part seemed to put a glint in the cubone's eye — the birth of an idea.

Oh? What idea does Mathew have in mind? Hopefully it’ll play a part later on.

I wonder what business with Selena was all about. And by the sounds of it, David seems to be used to this happening, whatever it is.

"I'm sorry…" Jermy whispered to her. "I'm just so tired…"

Demurke patted his shoulder with her wing. "It's okay. I'm t-tired too. We...we all are."

Geez…by the sounds of it, they’re being worked to the bone. Is this all David’s doing, I wonder? Or is there some other force at play? (On a side note, I guess even Demurke can feel the strain. But because Murkrow have Insomnia, she can’t actually fall asleep. Poor her…)

Chapter 4

Wow, a high-tech buggy. Nice. They got all kinds of nifty gear. (And yet they still can’t invest in a better sign? Mr. Persian definitely needs a reassessment of priorities.)

There were very few simple pleasures that Mathew missed from his old life on Earth, but listening to the familiar roar of the engine as he turned the key, and the deep click of moving the gear shift awoke a strange nostalgia in him for the ease of commute.

Oh no. Few things are worse than the dreaded commute to work every morning. Also, you know what this implies? By deduction, in this timeline of 2064, commuting by car to work every morning was still very much a regular thing. A car-centric society still exists in Mathew and Joey’s world! And roaring engines imply they still use combustion engines which create great amounts of pollution! Little wonder Mathew was as depressed as he was at the beginning of all of this.

The dirt roads were perfectly sized for the buggy to roll straight through, but it needed to be cleared of pedestrians. Kalmwa'er citizens ran, jumped, flew, and floated out of the way, many of them shooting Mathew and the others looks.

The most experienced driver out of all of them, eh? By the sounds of it, though, Mathew’s still gonna need to go back to Drivers’ Ed. It wouldn’t do to have a reckless driver like him on the loose.

Based on what he had done this morning, it seemed this entire little job of his was going to involve the possibility of failing to meet demands and landing himself as a soldier, far from what he had agreed to.

Another reminder of the consequences should Mathew fail at this. Another thing to give him stress. Somehow I get the feeling our resident Cubone is going to end up with bags under his eyes at some point (that is, if he doesn’t have them already. His human form sure seemed like the sort that would have them.)

Hm. This Cat-Tongue that’s discussed seems quite interesting. It seems our Mathew is more of a genius than I first thought. And fascinating that ORB was made with that technology! A lot of bootlegs inspired by his ingenuity. Still…if David’s anything to go by, I’d bet money that they want to use Mathew as a tool for that very genius that inspired those bootlegs.

We're both engineers, we've made big discoveries, we both have messed up name spellings…"

"Oh, I feel that last one. So many people write my name with two Ts, it drives me nuts."

Oh, big mood right there. Not as someone who’s experienced it, but that’s probably unbelievably frustrating for those that do have to go through it. I have respect for Jermy and Mathew for weathering that annoyance… (On a side note, creatively, was this intentional? Or just a coincidence?)

He had a feeling that SEAS could have easily sent them corporate, emotionless suits that just guided them where they needed to go. Instead, they had given them a gentle friend and a companion that happened to be a fan. He...liked having a fan around.

A luck of the draw that favoured Mathew on this occasion. Good that things are going well for him on that front. Corporate suits are a bunch that are just bleh on every single level.

Oh no. Massive load of guilt incoming. Preparing to engage sympathy hugs for Mathew. Though now it’s come to light for him that Jermy was human too. That secret’s going to become more unfixed over time, I bet.

Mathew was barely able to snap out of his own head. "Shit!" He pumped the brakes, turned the wheel, and braced for impact.

Crack.

I somehow had a feeling that this would happen, if the need to clear pedestrians and Mathew generally being a not-great driver were anything to go by.

Jermy lobbed a mighty bolt...which promptly turned away from the target and took off towards land. "Oh, come on! Who throws away a—" Jermy looked towards the objects stuck in the beach. "Two! Two lightning rods! Are you joking?!"

Yeah, exactly! Who the hell would be so wasteful? On another note, this is a good application to inhibit the abilities of the protagonists and prevent this battle from becoming a cakewalk.

Joey bore his sharp teeth at Mathew. "Rawr."

Love that dry wit of our resident croc.

Minichino really coming into her own here with taking down the Barbaracle. I guess what I predicted earlier about her potentially being a prodigy at fifteen years old may well be accurate.

"You've taken out Heady," one of them said.

"Now it's time...for the Feeties!" the other shouted.

These guys are a circus. A comedic bunch, that’s for sure.

"You saw how they looked at me!" he exclaimed. "They need me!"

"You're not needed. Politoed is taking the lead right now."

Bit of a cold way to put it, Meowth. Especially given Mathew’s state right in the middle of battle. Still, the Cubone can hardly give orders in that state.

Geez, poor Mathew. That man needs a big hug, right this second. Given the danger of this world, he evidently didn’t expect this. Still, I did just have a realisation; given how many of Mathew’s former acquaintances and admirers seemingly travelled to the world of Solceus, would it not be too grand a stretch to imagine that many of his enemies might’ve travelled to Solceus as well? Are they going to be among our grand antagonists, whenever they show up?

Good thing Mathew has strong allies by his side. At least he wasn’t surrounded by his enemies.

That took Mathew by surprise. "Wait. You mean we aren't in Asulaguah now?"

"Nope!" Minichino said. "We stopped just short."

Oh, come on, really? Not even in the Dungeon yet? Big L right there for our group.

Those confidence issues with Mathew coming in hard and fast.

Demurke is a sweetheart,

Got that right. Probably my second-favourite character out of the bunch so far, just after Mathew. I like how kind and gentle she is towards the group. That said, I wonder what her backstory is? Jermy revealed his this chapter, so where does Demurke fit into the puzzle of former humans?

ORB, on the other hand, did not hesitate. "If you think Demurke won't report you two, I have news for you. I archive video recordings of almost everything. If she won't tell them about this, I will."

That’s…rather heartless of them. Of course ORB was never known for empathy, but this line sure robs them of sympathy here.

At least Meowth’s nowhere near as thoughtless. He does seem to look out for Mathew, a bit of a change from the grump he was last chapter.

Chapter 5

God above, all that rubbish. I would probably blow a fuse if I ever saw this scene. Pictures of beaches ridden with trash in real life always makes me want to vomit. Ergh.

A lot of the trash that e-ends up in the mystery dungeons is because of s-stuff they leave behind or throw away. The dungeon shifts j-jumble them all around, and now it looks like this."

Oh no, that makes things all the worse! Some irresponsible Geodude they are, alright.

Interesting that Minichino’s Tail Slap is rather like Minccino’s Pokédex entry in which it cleans using its tail. In the case of the outdoors, they would make good litter cleaners.

He could save so much of his and the others' time if he just whacked those geodudes. Imagine how SEAS would think of him…

A pity this is the setting it is. I imagine other worlds wouldn’t have this problem.

Fair play to Mathew for making this interesting. I would probably be bored out of my mind doing that job.

"The one where I gave it something to cry about!"

Hey, the beach isn’t to blame for this! Leave it alone.

"Now playing: William Tell Overture: Finale, with a lowered tempo."

Well…I can’t say I saw this coming when I started reading this fic. Pretty neat, I gotta say.

But it's okay! I have goggles!" Jermy exclaimed from somewhere within the fog. A gasp followed. "There's sand in the goggles! Oh, no!"

Hah! Gotta love it when a character’s solution is immediately thrown out the window due to unfortunate circumstances.

And we have our next adversary! A Palossand, no doubt.

These ferals are something else. And I’ve noticed that they’ve both been stupidly comedic.

He was coarse, rough. Irritating. Getting everywhere.

Ha ha. Love the reference.

This part does highlight just how dangerous Sandygast can be though. Like, suffocation via sand? Ouch. That’s not a good way to go.

"Hit it with a water attack!" Politoed advised Joey. He seemed too busy evading torrents of sand kicked up by their opponent. "Ghosts can't control the wet sand! Takes them out easily!"

Hang on a minute. Doesn’t Palossand have Water Compaction? That’s a bad idea they’re proposing (unless that’s not a thing here?)

Huh. Mathew being used as a cannonball wasn’t quite as deadly a move as I thought it would be.

And now it’s time for Joey to be the self-loathing one for once. Poor guy.

What does 'fuck' mean?"

Er…is that not a thing in this world? Best not to chase this point more, I think.

Maybe you could focus more on cracking that noggin, if you can. Not having memories is a pretty big deal."

Hmm…judging by what Mathew’s been alluding to all this time…that would not be the best of outcomes if Joey remembered what happened in the human world. It makes me wonder, too, what really happened back then that’s locked behind the amnesia. Ah, mystery…I hope this lives up to expectations.

Chapter 6

"I was just saying I bet...I'll-live this meal…?" It didn't make sense. Mathew's pun didn't make any sense and both of them knew it.

The horrific puns continue! Noooooo!

"Do you have sodas?"

"Yeah!" the quilladin said cheerfully. "We've got Bubblim, Cheruya, Dragnroud…"

Nice concept, inventing this world’s brand of fizzy drinks. Rather cool, I gotta say.

All of these food names were Italian, too! How was that even possible when everything he had read up to now was English? Was there some kind of Poke-Italy out there he wasn't aware of, where they invented the Poke-pizza?

Oh boy, now we’re really opening a can of worms with this. This honestly feels like Japanifornia from Ace Attorney or something. What crazy alternate universe is this? On a more theoretical note…I wonder if there is actual logic behind this? Did humans introduce Italian cuisine to Solceus? Or is it something else entirely? Hmm…

"Contacts?" Mathew set the bowl back on the table. "I don't wear contacts."

Meowth was stricken by the remark. "You're wearing brown color contacts, right?"

"Uh… No? I have natural brown eyes."

The cat squinted at him. "That's very unusual."

One more clue that’s going to lead to the unravelling of Mathew’s whole facade. Meowth’s definitely a snooping type - he’s going to figure this out sooner rather than later, I feel.

"Uh, curiosity killed the cat? Have you never heard of that?"

"Curiosity did what to the cat?" Meowth's expression intensified. "What are you trying to imply?"

And another slight giveaway! Geez, Mathew, you may as well just tell the cat at this point. Shout it out loud in the restaurant for everyone to hear. It’s not like humans are particularly taboo either, given what Breloom and Politoed have alluded to previously.

Wow, Meowth really wants to figure this out. The answer’s a stone’s throw away. Just keep pressing him and he’ll slip up. That’s how Phoenix Wright does it (sometimes).

The cubone looked to Meowth, and suddenly, something...changed. He felt so drowsy...so woozy… The restaurant faded out of view. It was just him and Meowth now… An overwhelming sense of persuasion flooded him, and suddenly his will to resist vanished, looking into Meowth's green...glowing...eyes.

Oh, what’s this? This doesn’t feel good. What power does Meowth have, exactly? Sounds like hypnosis. I wonder: could this be an inherited power from Mr. Persian? Does he have something similar in his own arsenal?

"I...was a human before."

Aaaaaaaand there it is! Was waiting for it. I thought there would’ve been a bit more cageyness for another while from Mathew, though. I definitely wasn’t expecting Meowth’s hypnosis powers, on the other hand.

Seems Mathew wasn’t quite ready to reveal it, though. That’s gotta be mortifying, having a secret revealed from him like that.

No good cop need apply in that police force. Bad cops on both sides, between the Poliwrath and the Chatot.

If he tells me, of his own free will, that yer a good guy after all that, we'll drop the charge and look away like it never happened.

Why do I get the feeling this is exactly what’s going to happen? The resolution will probably happen right before the deadline, if I know my media tropes.

Mathew, Joey, Jermy, and Minichino were sitting in front of some kind of TV-like box. In their hands were sets of wired remote-things that hooked up to said box. Meowth could read the word 'paused' on the screen. Mathew had taken the couch, while the others were on the floor.

Oh, cool, video games! I wonder what the game is? What’s Solceus’ version of Mario Kart? Or Smash Bros.? Then again, those games don’t tend to have ‘paused’ in big letters on the screen. Maybe a first-person shooter?

"It's called pokémon Snapshots: McDonald's Edition." Meowth had to resist to urge to ask what on 'Earth' McDonald's was. "This clown guy needs photos of pokémon to make marketable toys, so you go around and—"

Okay, what the heck? It’s Pokémon Snap, but sponsored by McDonald’s? This is…a whole new level of corporatism. If this is what video games have become in 2064, then I fear for our future. Granted, given what some video games company CEOs have said in the past few years…I totally would not be surprised if this is the path they ended up taking for games. God save us from this calamity…

"Look. I don't know how Mathew saw it, but my intent was never to treat him badly. I don't like using Hypnosis on people at random, either, but I needed that information."

That in turn begs the question: why exactly? The sating of curiosity, perhaps?

"I don't care! I am not living in the same house as this asshole." Mathew turned his attention to Meowth. "When I took up your offer, I said that I would leave and take a room in the Resort if I found out you were a piece of shit. Am I wrong?"

Oh boy, things are gonna snowball from here. This has two implications, I realise. One: Mr. Persian and David protested the decision to allow Mathew and Joey to stay with Meowth, and now Mathew might well move back into the Resort, exactly in line with their plans. And two: Meowth’s one step closer to losing his medical licence as per the bet made with the officers from earlier. None of this is good…

"Yeah! But still… I don't want all of us fighting. It ain't fun."

Got that right. It never is. Except for us readers, who love the drama and the fallout from it.

"Guys, maybe we should lay off on all that," Minichino suggested. "It's depressing Joey. Besides, we got better things to keep us busy — Mathew left his console here!"

No! Don’t play into the hands of the corporations! You don’t know what you’re promoting by playing that! At least play something else! (Although does it get much better than that?! I wouldn’t be surprised if even indie games would be affected by this malaise in Mathew’s 2064.)

"You've known from the start, this melody is a lie. But these lyrics lurk, deep in the back of your mind."

And the songs return. If this is a reference to anything, I wonder what it’s a reference to?

...and that dang song of Breloom's! He was supposed to be tuning it out, but it just kept distracting him.

Big mood right there. Sometimes music can be so engaging that one cannot just tune it out as background noise.

But Joey's action of looking over to see what just happened threw off everything.

Joey really doesn’t know that skill of tuning things out, does he? Gonna need a lot of work on that one.

Joey had never seen Mathew act so moody for this long. At this rate, he'd never feel good enough to be able to talk about Greg, Catherine, and whatever's been scaring him so much...

He sure is a moody pants. Not made better by what happened between him and Meowth. He might well become even more cagey after this.

"Wait a minute…" Joey thought aloud. Mathew was looking all upset, and then suddenly Meowth had stepped in to help. Was he trying to do this...to be nice to Mathew?

Oh, I see. Trying to butter him up so he can keep his medical licence. But I bet it’s going to take a lot more than that for Mathew to simply forgive him.

"Not the magic word. Denied."

Joey groaned. "ORB...did you happen to see how silly and bad Jermy is? And where Meowth went?"

"Access granted."

Okay, this made me chuckle. ORB really does have it in for Jermy if magic words are needed to find answers out of it.

"Got in trouble a bunch of times for being demanding and acting suspicious...but this is the first I've heard of him having a move like that."

So this is a seldom-used technique, by the sounds of it. But where does it come from? That’s what I’m curious about right now.

"Simple. I dug myself into this rut so I could get back at my father...by finding out what he has to do with you."

Mr. Persian certainly seems to be one of the more manipulative sorts in this story so far. Probably the most antagonistic one so far out of the civilised mons.

Meowth does come off as more sympathetic after the talk with Joey. Joey looks to be coming into his own too as a good pep talker. The team-up between the two of them looks to be an interesting dynamic. Although Mathew might not take it well, and the rift between them might only widen further.

Wow, that’s a short timeframe. Nine days? That’s barely any time at all!

Eight months of waiting and two months of preparation are about to go right down the drain."

Eight months? The same amount of time it took Mathew to build the machine that took him to Solceus in the first place. David and SEAS looked to plan this from the very start. They really must’ve been desperate for Mathew’s brainpower - which given what we know about Cat-Tongue and the many bootlegs that spawned from it, would be understandable in the retrieval of a great asset.

Seems Meowth’s really the spanner in the works here, with his Hypnosis revealing Mathew’s humanity. I wouldn’t be surprised…if he ends up becoming a target in future. And with the way he’s aligned himself with Joey now, that means wires will be crossed if that ends up happening. Intrigue’s building under the surface, and I look forward to seeing how this is going to play out.





Conclusion

This was a good read! There’s an intriguing concept here of a Mystery Dungeon world in a more modern setting - a bit of a rare sight, from my experience - and a world where human influence is surprisingly dominant. This makes the setting quite more interesting than average, I think.

Character-wise, Mathew’s probably my favourite. The baggage he carries is certainly a big mystery, and I can’t wait to see what it is that he just can’t tell Joey about his parents not being around. Joey’s also pretty cool and unique with his phrases definitely giving off a Southern vibe. A close second for me would probably be Demurke, for the sweetheart she is.

I liked this, and would definitely read more of it! Great work - keep it up!
 
Chapter 19

LukerUpgradez

Bug Catcher
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. meowth-alola-luker
Chapter 19: In the Dark

In the depths of Misery Cave, there was little to comfort Mathew. All he could see was the pile of trash, burning away at papers and plastics and leaving nothing in its wake. All he could smell was the rank, polluted air of the waste around him. All he could hear was the crackle of that fire as it did its work. And, sitting down at a distance from the flame, all he could think about was the fight that had just transpired.

The cubone had gone into this believing he had the support of everyone. Joey and Jermy, despite the latter's complaints, had been right there with him, seemingly willing to assist with taking Meowth on. OCEAN had supplied him with the weaponry to fulfill this mission, and the Club the battleground. And yet, here he was, with the two he trusted most having run off with Meowth to fight some unexplained threat, suddenly rejecting all of the promises and ambitions that he had been working for.

Mathew idly fiddled with the satchel around his body. At this point, he wasn't even angry at them — just so, so confused. What the hell did any of this mean anymore? His whole world for the past week or so had revolved around OCEAN. So why—

Maybe Jermy knows more about this than me…

It passed through his head like a thought. It even matched his own inner voice. But whatever that was, it was not Mathew's mind that had come up with it. Instantly, he was back on his feet, looking away from the light of the fire in search of a source. "Who's there?!" he called out. His voice reverberated against the walls of the cavern for several long seconds. Mathew's mind began to tingle with doubt. Maybe he really had just imagined—

"Huh. I guess I shouldn't have expected that to work on you." Just like that, Mathew's second-guessing vanished. The voice was more foreign and feminine now that she wasn't trying to imitate him.

"Where the hell are you?" Mathew whirled around, squinting out into the darkness of the cave through his goggles. She seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"In your head at the moment. I've been watching you and your friends for some time. A few of you seemed like you needed a motivator right now."

The cubone swiped his snout around, futilely trying to shoo her away. "Well I'll pass. The last thing I need right now is a second promise from a weird mysterious voice that everything will get better if I just do x, y, and z. I'm not even finished figuring out the first one!"

"Right," the voice from the dark said, her voice lingering no matter which way he moved. "You mean the promise from…the 'light', I've heard you call him, which hasn't come true in the slightest?"

"I haven't fulfilled the requirements yet!" he exclaimed, stepping back defensively and approaching the dying fire.

"...The trust you put into people is respectable, Mathew." There was a twinge of disappointment in her voice. "But you really should know when it's time to give in and realize you've been duped."

"Duped into what?" he asked. Feeling skeptical, he backed up closer to the flames. He might not be able to tell where she was from hearing, but maybe she really was somewhere nearby…

"In the beginning, the 'light' told you that you would be able to start again in a world without an apocalypse if you only helped him with a favor," she reminded him. "He didn't make it clear to you that you'd be going to war. Then OCEAN pressured you past your breaking point so you'd focus on what's in front of you and forget that it wasn't part of the deal."

Not having any luck, Mathew turned his attention back to the fire. The pile was almost level now, and most of the flammable material had already burned. The light in the cavern started to go out. "...So what do you want to dupe me into doing instead?" Mathew tilted his head, peering behind him.

"I want to dupe you into helping yourself here," the voice from the dark told him. "Listen, Jermy and ORB didn't get the chance to explain it, but there's so much more going on than any of you realize — things you would never believe if I told you now."

Mathew could only roll his eyes. "Oh, trust me, I know. Minichino already let me in on the whole 'war on the gods' thing."

"...And you'd still go along with it, without knowing the full story?" she questioned.

He fully turned back, looking into the shadows of the cavern. "Anything to get me out of the hellhole that was my old life," he said, harshly planting his foot against the rock.

"Anything? Anything at all?" she seemed skeptical. "You'd go far enough to even turn against your friends for it?"

He reflexively tugged at the strap holding his goggles to his mask. "Meowth is not my friend."

"Meowth is not who I'm referring to."

…Oh. She knew about that, then. Of course she did — she didn't need any kind of hypnotic power to invade his privacy. "Look," he started, annoyed, "after all this is over, I'll convince Joey to…" His angry assertion that he'd fix the problem fizzled out quickly, and he was left with strong feelings, but no words.

"It won't be easy," she reminded him. "When push comes to shove, Joey doesn't want a part in this plan. The only reason he went along with it in the first place is that you haven't given him what he wants. What will happen when you do?"

Mathew eyed the satchel, still hanging to his waist, that carried the finished version of the gun he and Joey made. Joey had been distracted then, too…no wonder he had been so flaky today. Meanwhile, the one thing Joey was passionate about was fixing the portal, learning more about him…getting his memories back.

What would happen after they fixed the Wormhole Wristlet? If they got the promotion into the science division, would Joey really come with him?

"Right now, Joey's in danger. Your friends are in danger. And all of them need your help. Maybe you don't care, but…what about the reasons Joey matters to you in the first place?"

And with that, this voice from the dark had officially crossed the line. "...Get the hell out of my head," he said coldly, stepping forward 'toward' her.

It took a moment for her to reply. "Okay. I told you what I wanted to tell you, anyway. I'll leave you to think about it."

Mathew was briefly stunned. "Wait, you're not actually gonna leave, are you?" he called out.

No reply.

The cubone was surprised that actually worked. He was more than used to people insisting everywhere he went, and suddenly, this voice had just…backed down. Mathew was truly alone.

Now what was he going to do? He could simply return to where he had been seated and pretend that had just never happened, but after a conversation like that, the idea left a sour taste in his mouth. While it made him angry she had probed him like that, he couldn't deny what she was saying. His friendship with Joey was slipping out of his grasp, and, if Jermy was any indication, there might be something about OCEAN he missed.

Mathew turned his head, and into his vision came the bone club and the Whirlwind Wand he had tossed away during his fight. Meowth had been the correct person to turn these weapons against, right? He had taken the cubone off of his career path by offering his condo, assured that he could help Mathew with his unwieldy state-of-mind, and then used Mathew's helplessness as a means of wringing out information, making his circumstance even worse. The rest of the Club was right to hate his guts.

And yet…Joey had chosen to protect Meowth over him. And when Mathew remembered the thing that held him together, that meant Joey had chosen that over his own memories. The totodile seemed to hate what they were doing so much that he'd rather reject the group who can get them the only item they need to finish the Wormhole Wristlet than go through with it. To motivate Joey to do that…

That settled it. Mathew's emotions were so overwhelmed that he couldn't make sense of it all, but he knew Joey had a strong intuition. If nothing else, it was grounds for him to go out there and find out just what was happening. So, he gathered his club, his Wand, and his gun, and walked into the dark.

Behind him, the light of the fire was fading fast.

What the heck was going on?

Joey was left stunned by what he was seeing. Politoed and Breloom had crashed into the riverbank, and now some strange humanoid creature was staring them all down with a mean look in his black, beady eyes. They'd clearly already been fighting for a while, based on the fact that all three of them looked a little roughed up already. The wall blocking them from going past these tunnels earlier had been reduced to rubble on their side of the bank. Not to mention, he could hear more fighting going on deeper in the cave. The crocodile was very lost — weren't they supposed to be fighting the wild geodudes that had been trashing this cave?

"Jermy," ORB began, "you should—"

"Fresh meat?!" Jermy exclaimed, not letting the robot finish. "What gives you that idea? Who even are you?" ORB didn't say anything after Jermy finished — Joey could only assume Jermy had done as he was going to suggest.

The strange man's confident expression faltered into a confused stare, but after a second, his grin returned. "I'm just some gurdurr here for a good time! Me and my buds back here thought the Geodudes in this here cave might be taking treasure with their trash, so we're giving the place a raid! Of course, that means we've got get rid of witnesses like you lot."

"Not a chance," Meowth said. Before Joey could even react, a paw was already pushing an Oran Berry into his hand. "Get this to Breloom!" Meowth told him as he sprung to Politoed's aid.

"Eh?! Of course you got… Rrragh!" Gurdurr raised his weapon and prepared to slam it down on the cat and Politoed, but Jermy got in his way, blocking him with thunder.

"Go, Joey!" he encouraged.

"Uh, right!" Without thinking, Joey jumped into the water, trying to get to the other side of the bank where Breloom laid. He winced — his knee scraped against the shallow end as he splashed in. Luckily, his crocodilian body moved fast, and in no time at all, he was at Breloom's side. Joey put the wet Oran up to her mouth and… He froze. Breloom seemed half-conscious, and hardly in the state to have something shoved down her throat. How was he supposed to—

"Mmmh…" Breloom's eyelid slid open ever so slightly, and their eyes locked. Just then, something impulsive activated in Joey. He put the Oran into her mouth with one hand and helped her chew with the other, gently moving the lower part of her jaw. By the time he was done, Breloom was aware enough to swallow on her own. "There we go…" she stumbled to her feet. "Thanks for the save, Joe."

By the time she had returned to her senses, Politoed was already up and holding back the bandit with Jermy and Meowth, firing a stream of bubbles towards him with little effort. Gurdurr bulked himself up, keeping to his feet. "You guys get away from here!" Politoed ordered the three of them. "Breloom and I can take care of this!"

"What?!" Joey exclaimed, standing right at the edge of the river. "But ain't Minichino and Demurke in there?! We can't leave without 'em!"

Jermy was quick to add, "Not to mention those Service Guild guys!"

Breloom nudged him as she took a moment to remove her cape and wring it out. "If you wanna help Min," she whispered to him, "You'll all have to get past him."

"Get past…" Joey looked ahead to the tunnel breaking off from the bank in front of him — where Minichino certainly was now — then to the happenings on the other side of the river. Like a fly in a horse stable, Politoed hovered around his opponent, caught in a routine of firing his bubbles and leaping away to keep just out of reach from the girder. Jermy and Meowth were in a routine all their own, scurrying away and dodging sweeping swings by the ends of their tails. Still, with the bandit bolstering himself, he reckoned that the five of them wouldn't be able to just walk by. If one of them were to stumble for even a second…

Joey had to get them past Gurdurr, and fast, but trying to cross again would do them no good, nor would getting Jermy and Meowth to swim his way to him — especially with ORB in the picture. All those options were too slow — enough for this bandit to land a clean shot with that long weapon of his. If only Joey could just pull them here…!

Or maybe…somebody could 'push' them here instead?

He had only one hope at this point. "Politoed!" Joey shouted, his voice ricocheting across the cave. "How good's your throwing arm?!"

"Huh?" Gurdurr spared him a confused glance as his girder blazed through the air, the swing sailing just above the frog's head. "What's this chucklehead talking ab—?"

Politoed, on the other hand, wasted no time as he dived straight towards the mouse and cat. "If you two really aren't gonna leave…!" He tucked the smaller Meowth into his arms.

Meowth gasped in surprise, but seemed to understand quickly. "Just do it," he insisted.

Without time for an apology, Politoed reared back…and promptly chucked Meowth across the cave with a seismic toss. The cat was flung through the dry air, clutching his satchel and kit for dear life as he almost slammed into the wall a couple paces in front of Joey.

"Huh?!" The baffled bandit cried. Before he could react, Jermy and ORB were given the same treatment, bringing them from Politoed's bank to Joey's. Somehow, the one-wheeled robot was the only one to make a clean landing.

"Yes!" Joey cheered, immediately following it up with frantic waving and a "Go, go, go!" Getting the memo, Jermy, Meowth, and ORB charged ahead, making it to the tunnel leading to Minichino and the others in no time at all. Joey chased behind them and…

…was immediately cut off. With a mighty leap, Gurdurr jumped from one bank to another, walling Joey off from the rodent and the cat.. "And where do ya think you're going?" The bandit looked down sinisterly as he leaned against the cavern wall, blocking off the rest of the path with his girder.

"Uuuuh…" This was the first time Joey had gotten a proper look at the attacker. This gurdurr was large, wide, and extremely well-toned — everything the average dungeon pokémon and even the low-level OCEAN soldiers wished they could be. Gurdurr made the sandygast of Asulaguah Beach look like a joke, and he almost lost to one! Futilely, Joey revved his water pipe up and…barely reached his chest with the arc of his Water Gun.

"Hehehaha! Was that supposed to scare me or something?" Gurdurr was clearly not impressed. He answered by swinging his free arm down like a hammer, smashing Joey against the ground. The crocodile's maw stung with pain as he lay against the damp ground, pressed between his fist and the rock. He could feel his own heart pounding.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

A sickening guffaw rose from the Gurdurr. "What's the matter? Jumped outta the frying pan and right into the fire?" Joey looked up and watched as his hand retreated, just in time for the girder to come down and—

It wouldn't meet Joey. Just in time, Breloom leapt in front of him, catching the weapon with both of her claws. Gurdurr tried to push it down further, but she refused to back down. "New plan! Joe, you're…sticking with us!"

"O-Okay!" Joey crawled out of the way, then got to his feet and scurried away. Behind him, he could hear the slam of the girder in the rock, and the galloping as Breloom got away from it.

Politoed was waiting for them, rummaging through his satchel as they kept their foe busy. "Think it's about time we pull out our secret weapons, Breloom," he advised, tossing paper and plastic left and right until he finally pulled out the red Wonder Orb.

"…Wait. What do y'all mean, secret—?!" Joey flinched at the sound of shattered glass — in Politoed's hand, it suddenly burst, breaking off into harmless shards that faded to white and dissolved. Joey felt a foreign force flow through him, one that made him feel fresh, as if he had just stepped into a warm shower.

"Yeah, there we go…" Breloom testingly flexed an arm. "You feel that, Joe?"

"I reckon I could run a mile like this!" Joey exclaimed. He wasn't exaggerating — the exhaustion from running around trying to get past this gurdurr was fading away.

"Only lasts about three minutes, so we have to make it count," Politoed suggested, before fully turning his attention to Breloom. "Ready to save the day?"

Breloom nodded. "Let's do it."

Suddenly, the two of them sprung to life, leaping towards the gurdurr. In reply, he gave a hearty chuckle. "You two really think that dinky little orb's gonna help? Trust me, it won't!" Without a second thought, Gurdurr whirled around and laid his weapon down flat, blocking the pair's path. Politoed and Breloom refused to stop.

"Hang on! What are y'all doing?!" Joey tried to call out from afar, but that was when he noticed something. The dead air of the cave…it was moving.

In a split-second, Breloom planted a foot, and a massive gust of wind picked up beneath her cape. She jumped up…up…up…way beyond what should've been possible…and landed a punch to Gurdurr's face, sailing right over his girder. "Urk—!"

Without a second thought, Breloom kicked off of his chest, pushing herself backwards as she descended slowly, rushing air cushioning her fall. "Come on, don't tell me you've never seen a weapon made out of type stones before?"

A weapon…? Joey didn't understand what she meant until light glinted off of the purple gemstone holding her cape together. Hah?! Has she been hiding that in plain sight the whole time? And she ain't used it until now?!

Gurdurr grimaced, looking at the gliding kangaroo in disbelief. "What—!" He, of course, missed the big green frog still barreling his way, jumping up to, then from the girder and meeting him with one, two slaps to the face. In retaliation, he concentrated his power and slugged Politoed right out of the air.

The frog was launched back again, but this time stuck the landing, diving into the river quite smoothly. Joey could only watch in awe as he gracefully stroked along, fighting the current with ease. He was actually going to pass the bandit by…!

Gurdurr tried to pick up his weapon and swing down on Politoed again, but Breloom was already coming to his rescue, leaping to the bandit's side and blowing his arm back with the swipe of her cape. The wind slammed his arm back into the wall of the cave, dislodging rubble and leaving a small mess on the cave floor.

Joey watched as Gurdurr studied this…and grinned with inspiration. "Let's make some catastrophe salad out of you, mushroom!" Just as Breloom moved in for what was surely a Drain Punch, Gurdurr took hold of his tool with both arms and swung upward, into the ceiling above her.

"Breloom!" Joey cried. She was frozen in panic, watching the rocks descend down on her. On reflex, the totodile pulled back and gave the absolute best Water Gun both his own power and the Wonder Orb could give — a high-arcing stream. It wasn't powerful, but it did intercept the rubble, knocking the largest and most dangerous rocks off-course.

"What the heck?!" Gurdurr's head whipped towards the totodile, bewildered.

Breloom grunted as a rock or two smacked her mushroom cap, but otherwise she leapt away from Gurdurr without too much injury. "That was incredible!" she called out. "Second time you've saved me today!"

"Y-You're welcome?!" Joey said in response.

The totodile didn't hear any praise coming from Politoed — just a splash as he jumped back onto the bank, now behind Gurdurr. The frog let another stream of bubbles spill from his mouth, pelting the now off-guard bandit. He yelped angrily as he was battered, leaving him helpless to avoid Breloom sinking her claws into his exposed leg.

"Gyaaaaah…!" Gurdurr yelled and groaned as Breloom sapped away. Her ability to drain him worked efficiently and effectively, and the slouching of the bandit's posture made the results obvious. He tried to go for another slam of his girder, but his now tuckered-out form was so sloppy and slow, even Joey could tell what was wrong with it. She watched…and watched…and just as Joey worried she'd be crushed, she slipped away from his leg, ran in a half circle to get the wind under her cape, and then leapt for an aerial uppercut right to the chin.

SMACK.

The firmness of the strike made Breloom's last hit to the head look like a joke. It was clean, it sent Gurdurr tumbling to the floor…and it sent something small flying through the air, landing on a small rock right by Joey. The totodile crouched down, taking a closer look. It was a small, circular piece of…glass?

Its purpose was clear once Gurdurr began to clamor back to his feet, using his weapon as a crutch. There was a change in his eyes — one was the same black as before, but the other was a clear brown. That's real weird, Joey thought. Why the heck was he wearing black color contacts…?

Politoed and Breloom seemed to find it much more than weird. For a moment, the two dropped their combative stances, sharing an expression Joey couldn't seem to get a read on. "Seems like our suspicions were right…" Politoed remarked.

Gurdurr panted, head swiveling from the frog behind him to the kangaroo in front of him. "Grrrrgh… I'll admit, this is not how this was supposed to go…" he said breathily. He set his sights on Joey, making the crocodile tense up, but Gurdurr didn't try another attack on him. "But if I'm going down… those two…" Without warning, he whirled towards the interior of the cave, somehow finding renewed vigor even now. "Are going down with us!"

"Don't think you're going anywhere when—" Before Politoed could finish, the frog was tackled from the side, knocking him down. A purple and yellow cat with a curvy, sickle-like tail pinned him down with two paws.

"Big T—Gurdurr!" she exclaimed. "Go on ahead! I've got this one."

The frog kicked her off, but it was too late — Gurdurr was charging into the cave as fast as his tired body would let him. The cat leapt back, making a point of putting herself between them and him.

"Breloom!" Joey called out. Gurdurr was pretty tall, but this cat was about the couple's height. Surely they could get past her…

"Already on it!" She galloped down the cave's riverbank like it was a runway, jumped — and was promptly shot out of the air by a pulse of black energy casted by the cat. Panicked, Joey spread his arms out to try catching the tumbling kangaroo. The force of her fall almost helped Joey's head meet solid rock, but as he teetered on a heel, he pushed back with all of his strength and set Breloom down with both of his feet on the ground.

"That's not gonna work on me so easily, sweaty."

Breloom gave Joey a nod of acknowledgement, then looked to the cat, confused. "Don't you mean 'sweetie'?"

"Oh no, I mean sweaty, from how much you three have been working up one over here." She stared the three down with her blue eyes, strikingly contrasting the pink mask-like part of her muzzle. "You were the ones who popped that Wonder Orb earlier, right? It's made things much tougher for my friends…but I'm pretty sure that's running out." She gave a devilish grin, not unlike Gurdurr's.

"Don't need any fancy tricks to take on somebody who's not used to walking on four legs—" Politoed lowered his stance again. "and I don't mean when you were a Purrloin."

"Hah?" Joey scrunched his maw, confused. What the heck did he mean by that?

The cat seemed to get the memo, though, her malice turning into something a little more sly. "Oh, so you know our little secret, huh? Well, bad news for you — I'm a liepard heart and soul." Shink — her claws scraped the stone beneath her. "But once we're through with you, you won't know the difference."

Joey readied himself once more. How much more of this could they take…?
 
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