Wonderain
Youngster
- Pronouns
- He/They
PMD: Trails Of Wonder
Fire crackles in the dim of the forest, its wispy orange-yellow shape flowing through the cold air. By the flame rests a small feline, its blue and black fur brushing against the soft grass below. As it bathes in the heat, its black tail waves in the air, the 4-pointer star on the tip facing the sky.
Digging its paw into a small brown bag, the Shinx rummages a bundle of amber-golden coins.
"250 Pokè…this was my pay for today. Wonder what I'll do with this. Probably not much."
Shuffling about, the Shinx tries to absorb as much warmth as possible, eventually lying flat on its stomach.
"Crappy job…no home…"
Opening its left paw, a batch of berries fall from the Shinx's grasp.
"Living off fucking berries to save money…I haven't had a real meal in a month. Just how low can I get?"
Turning over, the Pokèmon positions itself to where its stomach faces towards the night sky.
"Why can't I be a regular teen? Having friends…being in rescue teams…I just deliver mail to people."
The Shinx's paw rests on a newspaper, discarded on the ground beside him. He drags the paper closer to him, before picking it up and reading it aloud.
"Team Cavalier saves the day once again…Mudbray Musician 'Hay-Z' releases new single…New sales at…." The Shinx crumples the newspaper in its paws, tossing it into the fire. "Who the FUCK reads this shit?"
As the newspaper is cast into the deep inferno, the flame momentarily grows in size as it absorbs the article, breaking it down into a gas in mere seconds.
"God…did my parents just do away with me because they knew I'd turn out like this?"
Pouting, the young Shinx lies back on its frontside, burying his head into the grass.
"Just a stupid paperboy…" He grumbles, before closing his eyes and nodding to sleep.
That morning….
"Attention, guildmates!"
The noisy room is effectively silenced by the boom of a large steel Pokèmon.
Over a wooden tabletop, the Pokèmon stands tall and firm, its body formed of large steel plates, with white claws in place of fingers on its oval-like paws.
The Pokèmon, an Aggron, places its paws on its hips before beginning its address, practically shouting across the room.
"Lissen up, ye runts! There's an important announcement fer' all ye suckers, so you better keep yer' ears wide open, ye hear?"
…..
"I WANNA HEAR A 'YES, SIR ABBADON!'"
In unison, the room's populace erupts into a synchronized chant.
"Yes, Sir Abbadon!"
Suddenly, a small blue Pokèmon waddles its way into the room.
"Yes, yes. That'll be enough, Gerald."
Flinching, the Aggron immediately drops its firm position at the sight of the Wooper.
"A-Ah! Yes, of course, sir!"
'Sir Abbadon' clears the way for the small fish-like Pokèmon as it approaches the room's center.
Clearing his throat, the Wooper begins to speak in a deep, toned voice.
"Ahem. Good morning, members of the Round Table. Before I begin my address, I would like to, as your headmaster, congratulate all of you on your excellent work, so far. You have all, as individuals, made an excellent contribution to our guild. I would like to commend you all substantially for your efforts."
After the headmaster bows, the entire room erupts into a tumultuous applause, before silencing as he lifts his head, allowing for his address to continue.
"I appreciate all of you for your work as individuals, and for the amount you all, separately bring to the table."
"Because, unfortunately…there has recently been an event, in which someone has been taken out."
Sir Abbadon enters the room, revealing a whiteboard on which a poster containing the face of a Grovyle is displayed.
Gasps and murmurs fill the room, eventually subsiding before the headmaster's next words are spoken.
"Mr. 'Oliver', please make your way to the board."
Withdrawing the crowd is a Sandslash, who approaches the whiteboard, a frown visible on his face.
"Clayton had always been a dear partner of mine," Oliver begins. "He always had a bit of a jerkass sense of humor…it made him pretty entertaining to work with. I couldn't ask for a better co-worker….no. I couldn't ask for a better friend."
Oliver emits a deep sigh.
"That night…we'd been scoping out the woods for anything unusual. Any signs of that damn troublemaker running about…we'd heard some rustling in the bushes, and when we found it was really just a little cat, we'd let our guard down, y'know? We thought it was a false alarm…that we'd tensed up for no reason."
"But then, that bastard…he popped up out of nowhere. That damn Zangoose that we'd been searching for in the first place…He came and attacked."
Oliver holds his paw over a scratch mark on his cheek. "I managed to get away by the skin of my teeth. My partner, on the other hand…I can't so much say the same for him. Damn Zangoose snatched 'im, and there's no telling where he is, now. For as much as we know, he might as well be dead. 'Course that's not what I believe. But, I guess it is sometimes best to assume the worst."
Sir Abbadon flips the whiteboard, as the headmaster signals Oliver to return to the crowd. Displayed on the board is a wanted poster, with a picture of a Zangoose on the cover.
"This criminal has been running around these parts for some time, and despite our efforts, we have not achieved much in the way of finding his place of origin, or the reason behind his repeated abductions. The state of his victims is unknown, but we believe they are being exploited to his benefit." The headmaster's eyes begin to furrow. "That, at least, is the best-case scenario."
"But, in any case, to conclude this lecture, we strongly suggest that you all exercise the utmost caution in your missions. If you see anything that seems off-color or unusual in the slightest, do not ever shrug it off. Keep your guard up, and make sure you cautiously exit the area until you are certain it is secure. However, we are a team of rescuers. Therefore, the safety of those you are meant to protect should be your biggest priority. If there is any way that you can ensure that both you and the Pokèmon that is to be rescued can make it from the mission safely, you must make it happen. By being a part of this guild, you have all promised to put the lives of others above yours. Whether you like it or not."
"That will be all for today. Proceed to your missions."
Only the headmaster and Sir Abbadon are left behind as the remainder of the guild piles out through the door. Turning to the headmaster, Sir Abbadon tries to initiate a conversation.
"Ay, I put today's newspaper on yer' desk. Did ye see it?"
"Yes, I did. That paperboy…'Wonder', was it? Did he put it in the front mailbox?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hm. I'll leave a note for him to put it in the one by the backdoor. That'll make things more convenient."
"Ay, you know I have no problem carryin' it over, boss. I can always make time to help ye out."
"No. I need you to keep watch of the guild at all times. As long as that culprit still lurks, we must keep our guard up."
"U-Understood, sir."
The headmaster lets out a slight chuckle. "That's why you're my favorite worker, Gerald."
Entering the building, the headmaster shuts the door behind him.
Sir Abbadon stands in shock.
"Boss said I'm his favorite….by golly, I could cry right now!"
"I mean….erm…of course I am! Who else would be?"
Fin.
Fire crackles in the dim of the forest, its wispy orange-yellow shape flowing through the cold air. By the flame rests a small feline, its blue and black fur brushing against the soft grass below. As it bathes in the heat, its black tail waves in the air, the 4-pointer star on the tip facing the sky.
Digging its paw into a small brown bag, the Shinx rummages a bundle of amber-golden coins.
"250 Pokè…this was my pay for today. Wonder what I'll do with this. Probably not much."
Shuffling about, the Shinx tries to absorb as much warmth as possible, eventually lying flat on its stomach.
"Crappy job…no home…"
Opening its left paw, a batch of berries fall from the Shinx's grasp.
"Living off fucking berries to save money…I haven't had a real meal in a month. Just how low can I get?"
Turning over, the Pokèmon positions itself to where its stomach faces towards the night sky.
"Why can't I be a regular teen? Having friends…being in rescue teams…I just deliver mail to people."
The Shinx's paw rests on a newspaper, discarded on the ground beside him. He drags the paper closer to him, before picking it up and reading it aloud.
"Team Cavalier saves the day once again…Mudbray Musician 'Hay-Z' releases new single…New sales at…." The Shinx crumples the newspaper in its paws, tossing it into the fire. "Who the FUCK reads this shit?"
As the newspaper is cast into the deep inferno, the flame momentarily grows in size as it absorbs the article, breaking it down into a gas in mere seconds.
"God…did my parents just do away with me because they knew I'd turn out like this?"
Pouting, the young Shinx lies back on its frontside, burying his head into the grass.
"Just a stupid paperboy…" He grumbles, before closing his eyes and nodding to sleep.
That morning….
"Attention, guildmates!"
The noisy room is effectively silenced by the boom of a large steel Pokèmon.
Over a wooden tabletop, the Pokèmon stands tall and firm, its body formed of large steel plates, with white claws in place of fingers on its oval-like paws.
The Pokèmon, an Aggron, places its paws on its hips before beginning its address, practically shouting across the room.
"Lissen up, ye runts! There's an important announcement fer' all ye suckers, so you better keep yer' ears wide open, ye hear?"
…..
"I WANNA HEAR A 'YES, SIR ABBADON!'"
In unison, the room's populace erupts into a synchronized chant.
"Yes, Sir Abbadon!"
Suddenly, a small blue Pokèmon waddles its way into the room.
"Yes, yes. That'll be enough, Gerald."
Flinching, the Aggron immediately drops its firm position at the sight of the Wooper.
"A-Ah! Yes, of course, sir!"
'Sir Abbadon' clears the way for the small fish-like Pokèmon as it approaches the room's center.
Clearing his throat, the Wooper begins to speak in a deep, toned voice.
"Ahem. Good morning, members of the Round Table. Before I begin my address, I would like to, as your headmaster, congratulate all of you on your excellent work, so far. You have all, as individuals, made an excellent contribution to our guild. I would like to commend you all substantially for your efforts."
After the headmaster bows, the entire room erupts into a tumultuous applause, before silencing as he lifts his head, allowing for his address to continue.
"I appreciate all of you for your work as individuals, and for the amount you all, separately bring to the table."
"Because, unfortunately…there has recently been an event, in which someone has been taken out."
Sir Abbadon enters the room, revealing a whiteboard on which a poster containing the face of a Grovyle is displayed.
Gasps and murmurs fill the room, eventually subsiding before the headmaster's next words are spoken.
"Mr. 'Oliver', please make your way to the board."
Withdrawing the crowd is a Sandslash, who approaches the whiteboard, a frown visible on his face.
"Clayton had always been a dear partner of mine," Oliver begins. "He always had a bit of a jerkass sense of humor…it made him pretty entertaining to work with. I couldn't ask for a better co-worker….no. I couldn't ask for a better friend."
Oliver emits a deep sigh.
"That night…we'd been scoping out the woods for anything unusual. Any signs of that damn troublemaker running about…we'd heard some rustling in the bushes, and when we found it was really just a little cat, we'd let our guard down, y'know? We thought it was a false alarm…that we'd tensed up for no reason."
"But then, that bastard…he popped up out of nowhere. That damn Zangoose that we'd been searching for in the first place…He came and attacked."
Oliver holds his paw over a scratch mark on his cheek. "I managed to get away by the skin of my teeth. My partner, on the other hand…I can't so much say the same for him. Damn Zangoose snatched 'im, and there's no telling where he is, now. For as much as we know, he might as well be dead. 'Course that's not what I believe. But, I guess it is sometimes best to assume the worst."
Sir Abbadon flips the whiteboard, as the headmaster signals Oliver to return to the crowd. Displayed on the board is a wanted poster, with a picture of a Zangoose on the cover.
"This criminal has been running around these parts for some time, and despite our efforts, we have not achieved much in the way of finding his place of origin, or the reason behind his repeated abductions. The state of his victims is unknown, but we believe they are being exploited to his benefit." The headmaster's eyes begin to furrow. "That, at least, is the best-case scenario."
"But, in any case, to conclude this lecture, we strongly suggest that you all exercise the utmost caution in your missions. If you see anything that seems off-color or unusual in the slightest, do not ever shrug it off. Keep your guard up, and make sure you cautiously exit the area until you are certain it is secure. However, we are a team of rescuers. Therefore, the safety of those you are meant to protect should be your biggest priority. If there is any way that you can ensure that both you and the Pokèmon that is to be rescued can make it from the mission safely, you must make it happen. By being a part of this guild, you have all promised to put the lives of others above yours. Whether you like it or not."
"That will be all for today. Proceed to your missions."
Only the headmaster and Sir Abbadon are left behind as the remainder of the guild piles out through the door. Turning to the headmaster, Sir Abbadon tries to initiate a conversation.
"Ay, I put today's newspaper on yer' desk. Did ye see it?"
"Yes, I did. That paperboy…'Wonder', was it? Did he put it in the front mailbox?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hm. I'll leave a note for him to put it in the one by the backdoor. That'll make things more convenient."
"Ay, you know I have no problem carryin' it over, boss. I can always make time to help ye out."
"No. I need you to keep watch of the guild at all times. As long as that culprit still lurks, we must keep our guard up."
"U-Understood, sir."
The headmaster lets out a slight chuckle. "That's why you're my favorite worker, Gerald."
Entering the building, the headmaster shuts the door behind him.
Sir Abbadon stands in shock.
"Boss said I'm his favorite….by golly, I could cry right now!"
"I mean….erm…of course I am! Who else would be?"
Fin.
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