thenatureking
Bug Catcher
- Pronouns
- He/Him
- Partners
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Hi. First story here. Still new to forum format, so hopefully everything looks okay.
(Author's Note: Before I forget, this was actually inspired by the beginning of Pen's The Suicune's Choice. I was doing drabble writing and the concept for this story spiraled out-of-control haha,)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Romance.
Summary:
Raingurl, Make It
Chapter: 1
Down-and-out.pour.
AKA: A Girl and Her Ghost.
“Rain rain go away, please come back another day,” Shia pleaded through clenched teeth, to keep them from cla-cla-clattering. An icy chill seeped into her body head-down as big, fat dragon-sized droplets of rain pummeled her skull through the hood of her yellow rain jacket, which, for the ridiculous amount of money she’d spent on it, shouldn’t have felt thinner than wax paper. One thing was for sure, though: she was never doing business with Elesa’s brand of trainer’s athleisure ever again!
The downpour had cast everything in her vision behind a silvery veil, so she couldn’t see where she was going, but her nav’s compass pointed south which was the direction from which she had come so she put her trust in that and continued to run.
Mud sloshed out of her boots as she barreled through the wide-leaved undergrowth of the forest. The ground had been turned into a soupy mess of mud, rotted pomeg berries, and exposed roots, and she was the one churning it. Her foot caught something—probably a root—and she fell hard, knees first, into the sludge. Mud splashed her face and got in her mouth. She grimaced at its earthy grittiness and spit it out. Then, she realized her hands were empty.
“Oh crap! My nav!”
She felt around in the muck for the little yellow device, whimpering at the different textures she touched. “It’s nothing! They’re nothing!” she sang, willing the monstrous imaginations of her mind to fade away. She knew the sleekness of metal, though, and squealed giddily when she fished her Nav out. The screen still lit up. “Yes! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she peppered it with kisses, muddy lips be damned. She couldn’t lose this baby. Not now.
Struggling to her feet, she noticed the water rose precariously high—to her calves—and slowed her down so much so that, at times when the terrain dipped, she was wading through it. Was this normal? No, it couldn’t be. Was this what they called a flash flood? She’d heard those kinds of things were possible on Route 119, due to the terrain differences in slopes and heights and such, but even during class when they’d covered emergency what-if scenarios, they’d never tackled a situation like this! What to do when you’re in a rockslide? Check. What to do if the volcano erupts? Familiar. But never what to do if you’re caught in a flash flood in the middle of the rainforest? All she knew was to run!
Shia couldn’t believe her luck. Day two of her first traveling experience, and she had to deal with this.
She was a Mauvillite through and through, a silver spoon-fed city girl that hadn’t a need for traveling, let alone owning a pokemon in her 18-year life until she wanted to move away from the shadow of her parent’s success. Seven months ago, she’d taken the first steps to do exactly that. All it took for her to become a licensed trainer was a six-month speed course and an ounce of luck. Who knew!
After graduation, brewing with excitement and newfound ambition, she came up with the idea of surprising Dylan, her boyfriend, in Fortree for his birthday. She spent the last month planning her trip, watching the weather until it was just clear enough to make the trek up to the treetop city unscathed. She knew Route 119 was known for its frequent precipitation, and she had prepared for it, but it shouldn’t have been raining now, and so strongly, no less. So, why was it?!
Her wrinkling, chilled fingers gripped her Nav as she struggled to make out the mud-encrusted and wet-beaded screen through the onslaught. She wiped and refreshed and waited. Even though she had four bars of signal strength, it took a minute to load, longer than usual. She wasn’t worried, though. It was the latest PokeNav Plus model—their most durable, their most reliable, and their most waterproof. An Hoenn pro trainer must-have. She’d bought two of them, one for herself and one for Dylan’s birthday gift.
She’d skimmed through the reviews, and they were generally pretty positive. She trusted what she read, plus 4.8/5 stars were convincing enough on its own. Besides, why would people go out of their way to leave a review if they weren’t passionate about the product? She’d wished she’d been so thorough before she bought this stupid, flimsy rain jacket. Yellow wasn’t even her color.
When her weather app finally loaded, it parroted what it had been forecasting all week for the Route 119 area: clear skies.
“What the…” She slowed her pace, captivated by a tree with a hollowed trunk. Shia was used to the artificial lush of Mauville’s perfectly designed central park. A tree like this wasn’t within an architect’s capability. It was both naturally strange and naturally beautiful. Maybe she could take shelter here temporarily, while she caught her bearings.
The opening was wider than it was tall, and she had to crouch slightly to keep from bumping her head on tree, but inside she had enough room to stand up straight. If anyone had ever wondered what the inside of a tree smelled like, well, it smelled like musk and wood. With its awkward structure, the exposed roots snaking through the ground like a Frenzy Plant attack, she thought that perhaps there was a time years ago, where there might have been dirt where she was now standing. Before flash flood after flash flood had eroded the soft soils away.
Admittedly, she probably should’ve checked if there was a wild pokemon hiding within before she sprung in, but she had other concerns and an immediate relief. She was just grateful for the makeshift roof.
She peeled her hood back and pulled her ponytail lose from her hair tie. Dark curls fell around her, and she gathered them, twisting and ringing handfuls free of moisture. Then, she tied it back up. Traveling with long hair was a crime, she decided. The salon treatment she would need after today... She wondered if there were any good places in Fortree.
She tried the nav again and refreshed it, but again, it read the same. Clear skies.
She pulled up the search engine, clumsily thumbed, ‘W E A T H E R’, and held her breath as she waited for the page to load. Seriously, she hadn’t noticed the stalled load times before. But maybe that was because she was panicked now. Maybe that was how they had always been.
The page stuttered then displayed the same weekly forecast: clear. skies.
“Stupid thing!” she threw the Nav down and covered her face to hold back the tears. This was awful. So awful. She shouldn’t have come out here, and she shouldn’t have come alone. She shouldn’t have thought she was capable of doing anything by herself. Maybe Mother was right.
Shia let out another choked exhale. Her breath did little to warm her hands, which were so cold against her face. They felt like they weren’t hers, anymore, trembling all on their own. She hadn’t been able to stop shivering ever since she fell. Her trail pants were no longer just dark below the knee, but darkened completely and covered in mud and forest bits, and her yellow rain jacket clung to her like a swimsuit. Some water resistance this was. And her bag—
Shia’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Her back was pressed firmly against the bark of the tree; no awkward protrusions in between when there should have been. “Oh crap,” she whined, mind jumping to trace back over her steps. “My bag...”
It was gone. All of her supplies: her extra clothes, her sleeping bag, her tent, her packed food, her hydro flask, her nav’s portable charger, her utility knife, her lighter, her repellent, my purse, Dylan’s gift!—all gone.
But where?
A fully-brown zigzagoon skidded to halt at the entrance of the tree and stared at Shia with its big brown eyes like it was petrified. If Shia were a pokemon, this zigzagoon would be the one. It was drenched and covered in mud and shivering, looking pitiful in the downpour. It was clearly in search of shelter just like she was and must have not seen her inside when it spotted the tree. She wondered if she’d accidentally taken over his home, if wild pokemon even had those.
“Aww, here, there’s room,” she said, shuffling to the side to make space. It hissed at her, and she jumped. “Hey! Play nice, you!”
It turned and darted underneath the petals of a pomeg flower. An oddish poked its head out of the mud, its leaves pointed razor sharp at the zigzagoon. Then, it softened up and curled its leaves around the zigzagoon. They cowered under the protective cover of the flower together. She felt bad for them, but felt comforted that the rain wasn’t just ruining her day.
She pursed her lips. Something about the sight was reminiscent of something… but what…
Aha!
Back in the clearing. That’s where her bag was! Needing a break, she remembered shedding her bag underneath an oran tree because the bag’s straps were eating at her shoulders, and she’d wanted a light, free snack herself. And then, she’d gotten distracted by a herd of tropius that had appeared. Courage, or was it insanity, had inspired her to approach them, albeit cautiously. They regarded her, sniffed her dark curls curiously, then paid her no mind as they went to nibble at the berries in the treetops. She pet one of the smaller tropius, who was more friendly than the others and nudged her with its head. It kept lifting its neck towards her, seemingly offering her its fruit, but Shia didn’t think it felt right to take it. She guessed juvenile pokemon were like human kids in the sense that they were all too nice and too trusting than a cruel world like this deserved.
It was so surreal, so picturesque that she had to take a picture. One of the herd and a selfie with her little friend. It was the first time she had considered herself an actual trainer. Here in the wild, surrounded by Mother Nature and Mew’s Gifts. Everything was perfect. How it should be.
Then, lightning flashed, and suddenly there was rain, a whole lot of it. Thunder boomed next, so intense it shook the earth and sent the tropius into a panic. They broke out into a stampede, green giants stomping the earth, and Shia ran for her life so as to not get trampled. After a while, she had just wanted to get back home. It hadn’t crossed her mind as to her why she had stopped in the first place.
Idiot.
She bit her lip. A little pain helped draw feeling away from her watery eyes. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, once she became a trainer. But the tears kept threatening to spill over. Today was just too much. She thought about the emergency beacon that came installed in all the latest navs. Once initiated, it’d signal the dispatch center who’d contact the nearest ranger’s station who’d then send a ranger out to find her. She wasn’t embarrassed to use it. She knew it saved lives. And this rain was absolutely too much. She wanted to go back home, back to Mauville where it was safe and warm and free of most precipitation. She’d never missed the city’s odd, donut-dome design so much so until now. And Dylan could always come down to Mauville for his birthday, like he’d done the year prior, right?
But…
No.
Dylan traversed Route 119 all the time. If he could do it, then so could she!
Shia allowed herself one last sigh, one final moment of self-deprecation before she swore off anymore negativity. Solutions only. Dwelling in her feelings would get her nowhere.
Though, before she could feign confidence in her situation, she reached for her belt in hopes of feeling the one poke ball that was supposed to be there.
Please. Please. Please.
Sleek. Smooth. Metal.
“Oh, sweet baby feebas, thank you!”
She clutched the sole poke ball in her hand. She hadn’t used her pokemon once throughout her trip, as there hadn’t been a need. And she didn’t want to make the common rookie mistake she’d heard of which was trainers burning through all their pokefood so quickly because they kept their pokemon out all the time. Affording pokefood was no problem, but she was trying to be responsible starting out and—
Oh, who was she kidding? Pokefood didn’t do much for her pokemon, anyway. It had the kind of diet that gave her the heebie jeebies. Frankly, she was, in fact, quite a fan of its poke ball use, and to be even more honest, she had no clue how her pokemon would even be able to help her. It wasn’t like it was capable of willing the rain away.
But one thing she remembered from trainers’ school was that pokemon had an innate instinct to survive, so they might be more helpful in an emergency situation than a trainer was capable of realizing. Shia hoped that was the case, because the downpour hadn’t eased up, and seemed like it wouldn’t ever..
In any case, she was all out options anyway. Here goes nothing, she thought.
In a flash of light, Sadwick materialized low to the ground, but rose slowly until they were eye level. That was a 1:2 eye ratio, with a duskull involved.
She made sure to focus on the middle part of his skull face instead of his glowing fiery-like eye while it swayed between his sockets, lest she hypnotize herself again. It’d taken her a week to learn her lesson, and upon realizing that she actually was growing and gaining new knowledge—wisdom—she felt the seedlings of pride take root within her chest. This helped her steel her nerves, like she normally tried to do before facing him. But this time, she knew she couldn’t quite quell the despair she felt for her situation.
After all, she had turned to him out of desperation, which was exactly the type of helpless energy and unfortunate circumstance that duskull lived for.
“Hi, Sadwick. Did you rest well?” She spoke slowly and calmly with a strained smile. This part was always unnerving, but she was starting to understand his unique ways of communicating.
Sadwick’s body quivered, his robe-like body folding about him. Then came his voice, low in volume but discordant and hard on the ears. Even though she was already cold and shivering, and more importantly, bracing herself for what she knew would come; the sound was still capable of forcibly evoking a bodily response in anyone that was instinctual: a shudder.
Sadwick quivered in response and his eye pulsed, pleased.
“Yeah, Sadwick. I’m pleased to see you, too. Are you hungry?”
Yesterday morning, as she was leaving Mauville, she had been sure to pass through a cemetery on the way out, and since then, Sadwick had been confined to his poke ball. Theoretically, he should’ve still been fine, but she knew there was no way he was going to pass up on the big breakfast that was her aura. She just hoped it wasn’t too much. The nightmare Sadwick could become…
No. No negative thoughts!
Silly, silly girl. Mother’s words popped into her head, and she clenched her eyes shut, willing them away.
Shut up shut up shut up!
When she opened them, Sadwick had moved closer, and was drifting up and down around her in a lazy arc. In her mind, she imagined him nibbling off of floating orbs of negativity that surrounded her, some big and some small but all delightfully delicious.
Sadwick liked to take his sweet time eating. Normally, that was a good thing, but when you were the main course, it suddenly lost its appeal. It felt like she was under the telescope, being dissected and separated from all her bad bits—but she liked her bad bits. They weren’t always a party at times, but they were still hers.
She sighed. In the first couple of weeks, his feeding process had been unnerving. But now? It was just a part of their tedious everyday routine.
One day, it struck her that this was how Dylan must have felt when he stuck around on the days she got an itch to re-christen her parents’ credit cards. At first, she couldn’t understand how he didn’t understand the beauty of shopping… How could anyone be so lifeless surrounded by so many cute clothes? But really, it was the simple fact that he just didn’t see the world through the same lense as her. Just like how she couldn’t see the world through Sadwick’s lense. It didn’t make his reality anymore lesser than hers; if anything, it was enough for her to know that it simply existed and brought him joy. Apparently, knowing that must have been enough for Dylan, too, because he still accompanied her to Mauville’s malls even when it was clear he’d rather be anywhere else than the dressing room’s wait bench. It was that small realization that made Shia love him that much more.
It was part of the reasons why she still wanted to make the trip to Fortree, and why, in spite of the unexpected setbacks of the day, she wanted to persevere. Because Dylan would, and consistently has, done the same for her.
So, what was a little rain, a little cold, and a little waiting while Sadwick fed off of her aura if it meant that she couldn’t wait to see Dylan?
He had always waited for her, and it was because he had always waited for her that she knew that waiting wasn’t for her. She didn’t want to wait. Not right now. Not in this moment. Not if waiting meant silently standing by, loyal but unfulfilled. It was time for action and time she showed him that she could be just as impatient for him as he was patient for as long as it meant seeing the person she loved most in the world.
She believed in a love that empowered all to live in their realities uncompromised. Dylan deserved to not only know that, but to have that. She needed to see him, to remind him of that in person.
“Alright, Sadwick, now don’t be greedy.” She swatted him away and made sure there was an appropriate amount of distance between them before she continued. Although she was feeling better mentally, her physical conditions were less than ideal, so it was only sensible that she be cautious.
“Now, I need you to help me figure out how we’re going to survive the night, okay? Think you can do that?”
Sadwick quivered.
Shia narrowed her eyes. She wanted to take that as a yes. But, she had also said ‘survive the night’, which had to have been every ghost-type’s favorite words.
“We are not out here for fun. You hear me?”
Sadwick sank a little lower.
“Okay, now, here’s the plan.”
The rain was now a light drizzle. Shia had a feeling it wouldn’t last, though. She needed to move quickly.
“Come on, Sadwick.”
She slipped on her hood and approached the huddling oddish and zigzagoon.
“You can have your place back!” She pointed at the hollowed trunk. “Doesn’t it look waaay more dry and inviting?”
The oddish only blinked at her, but the zigzagoon bared its tiny fangs.
“A fierce little guy, aren’t you.”
The zigzagoon growled, and she stepped back.
It didn’t look like they were going to budge from their flower umbrella.
Too bad she wanted it.
She sent Sadwick away. With less “threats” to focus on, it was less likely for the zigzagoon to attack, and a zigzagoon was the last pokemon she wanted to be the first pokemon her and Sadwick’s first battled against.
For one, Sadwick wasn’t exactly battle trained and ready. Between planning for the journey and the time it took her to get adjusted to having a duskull as her very first pokemon, Shia hadn’t set much time aside for training. And while she didn’t know much about Sadwick other than the fact that he had been bred by one of Mother’s friends and had only hatched from his an egg a few months prior to when she received him, Shia knew that the environment he was raised in was not battle-oriented. You didn’t fight in libraries unless you have a death wish for the librarian.
It was ironic that zigzagoon were considered among the least dangerous pokemon in the Hoenn region (and consequently, were sought out by beginner trainers alike as the go-to wild pokemon to pick on) because they were high on Shia’s “Do Not Engage With” list for one important reason.
She had a ghost-type that only possessed offensive ghost-type moves, and against a normal-type pokemon, that meant she had nothing. Sadwick couldn’t hurt a single hair on a zigzagoon’s normal-type body. And sure, by that same logic, Sadwick’s ghost-type body was safe from zigzagoon’s normal-type advances; but that was only a stalemate in a trainer’s battle. In the wild, that left her defenseless with a useless pokemon that couldn’t only watch while she was attacked. And in her specific case, it left her with a pokemon that might thoroughly enjoy watching her be attacked. If Sadwick knew the amount of fear he could feed off of if he realized the situation, if Shia let it come to that, then she was doubly screwed.
Duskull were insidious, tricky creatures if not handled carefully. Even before she had done her research on them, growing up, everyone knew about the horror stories; they were told around campfires and sleepovers. Stories of duskull turning into bullies, scaring their own trainers just to feed off of their energy. Stories of duskull stalking schoolgirls at night. Stories of trainers losing their minds because their duskull had turned scaring them into one sick game. That premise had inspired the popular movie series Scream, which was massively popular in Unova until the premieres starting attracting massive hoards of duskull to cities and towns alike—though, the studio in charge did come under fire when it was suspected that it was part of some elaborate marketing ploy..
Personally, Shia thought the movie series was cheap and misrepresented duskull, but even she had been privy to its affects when she first receieved Sadwick. She remembered the flashes of intrusive thoughts where she saw Sadwick as a crazed murderer instead of an innocent ghost-type creature that was simply as curious as she was. She felt ashamed. She hadn’t even nicknamed him yet.
So, taking Dad’s advice—“Knowledge defeats superstition”—she did a lot of research to rid of herself of the dumb single story shameless Unovan films had given her. However, pop culture aside, it couldn’t be denied that duskull were difficult pokemon to train regardless. Coven, a top Hoennese tabloid featured duskull in a list of top ten pokemon that Hoennese and Sinnohan trainers were likely to release. And it was all because trainers underestimated what it took to train them. Shia didn’t want to make the same mistake, which is why she had to be conscious of everything. She’d found a little indie book dedicated specifically to raising duskull, and lived by it.
Rule #1: Play chess.
If trainers remembered to stay two, three, four steps ahead, then raising duskull was a matter of assessing situations, reading the opponent, and planning ahead.
Shia hated chess, but she liked keeping her sanity in tact, so she made due. She had a plan. This zigzagoon wasn’t going to give her any grief on her watch.
She smiled weakly at the pair: an oddish and a zigzagoon… Who would’ve thought?
“Sorry, guys. No hard feelings, right?”
The wild pokemon were so focused on her, they hadn’t noticed Sadwick drifting behind them. She raised her hand, and as expected, the wild pokemon locked on it. Sadwick had his signal.
She wasn’t betting on using sheer force to move the zigzagoon. She was betting on using sound.
He shrank himself, then exploded outwards, letting out a ear-grating screech that still made Shia flinch despite expecting it. The oddish’s leaves went stiff, and it seemed to faint, poor thing. The zigzagoon darted for the hollow. But as soon as it got within the safety of the tree, it started growling.
“Huh? What’s wrong with you now!”
It dove at Shia’s feet, and she jumped back, unintentionally tossing up a wide splash. It splattered the zigzagoon directly in the face and it backed away, rubbing at its face.
“Sadwick, now!” Shia crouched and yanked at the root of the pomeg flower. “Pull!”
Sadwick hated taking full corporeality, if only because his body lacked much physical strength. Still, Shia needed all the help she could get ripping the plant out of the ground. The muddy earth might’ve helped loosen the plant had she been able to keep herself from sliding, and her wet and muddy hands struggled to keep a grip, too. She crouched and pulled on the flower’s thick stem with her arms, then with her back, then with her knees. She couldn’t remember which body part Dylan had said to use when she lifted things—he was the weight-lifting junkie, after all—but she knew she was hurting all over no matter what she tried.
“Sadwick, you’re not even helping!” He was pulling weakly at the petals. “Grab the base!”
He let out a wailing sound. He couldn’t bring himself to hover so low above the ground for too long. He seemed scared to land. Or maybe…
“You too good to get a little dirty?!”
It whined louder.
“Good grief!”
Don’t tell me he’s a house’mon!
Shia heard the growl before she saw the flash of brown out of the corner of her eye. She bobbed, reflexively, twisting around the plant just as the zigzagoon went soaring right pass her face. His claws slashed at the air and stabbed the ground when it landed and circled around. It was hissing violently, and looking really scary.
“Oh, crap,” Shia mumbled.
Sadwick appeared right at her ear, breathing heavy, quivering.
“Now’s not the time! Go away!” Her hand passed through his body as she tried to shoo him away, and a chill climbed up her spine. She growled through it. “Argh! If you’re not gonna help, at least try to defend me!”
Rule #2: Channel your fear into another emotion.
She chose anger.
Sadwick moved in between her and the zigzagoon. It didn’t make much sense, though, as when zigzagoon dove with a tackle attack, it passed right through Sadwick’s gray body and went straight towards her.
She tried ducking behind the flower, putting her nose directly into the flower’s center. The spicy sweetness of the pollen made her nose tingle, and cleared her sinuses right up, but it also gave her a rush akin to adrenaline. She sneezed, and with a sudden burst of herculean strength, the pomeg flower’s roots snapped. She flew back holding the flower, and it blocked the zigzagoon’s fangs, which dug in.
He shook his little stuck body, growling into the plant all the while Shia screamed and screamed. Seeing a murderous zigzagoon up close was not on her bucket list. She threw the plant aside, and the zigzagoon went with it.
As she was scrambling to her feet, her hand brushed against something sharp that made her cry out. The oddish! It was half-deep in mud, but its head leaf blades were razor sharp. She had totally forgotten it was passed out underneath the flower, and by the looks of one of it’s ripped leaves, she probably stepped on it.
Oops.
No wonder the zigzagoon had been so incessant on attacking her. It thought she was attacking its friend.
Shia glanced the cut. It went straight across her fingers on her right hand, but it wasn’t so deep that it was bleeding, only like a paper cut. It hurt to curl them, and she thought they kind of felt numb, but she chalked it up to adrenaline and shock. Something like that.
The zigzagoon had finally worked its tiny fangs free of the plant and charged again when Sadwick suddenly appeared in front of it. Shia couldn’t see what he did to stop the zigzagoon mid-charge, but when Sadwick moved aside, the zigzagoon swayed, and its eyes were out of focus. It shook its head through the daze and stumbled over its little legs. Huh?
“What did you do?” Shia asked. Sadwick’s eye pulsed and for a second she felt light-headed.
Focus. Just…not on his eye, she remembered.
“Whatever, let’s just get out of here!” Shia grabbed the pomeg flower. She was a little wet, and even more filthy, but she had what she wanted. Now, all she needed was a stick, which—how hard would that be to find in a rainforest? She cackled. Loudly,. Surprising herself and offending duskull because she was smiling for the first time since the downpour had started. She could do this. She could do this survival thing, after all.
Before she took off, she waved at the oddish and the zigzagoon, who had both retreated into the hollowed tree.
“Stay friends for a long time, yeah!”
She took off running into the undergrowth with her duskull slow behind her.
(Author's Note: Before I forget, this was actually inspired by the beginning of Pen's The Suicune's Choice. I was doing drabble writing and the concept for this story spiraled out-of-control haha,)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Romance.
Summary:
Raingurl, Make It
Chapter: 1
Down-and-out.pour.
AKA: A Girl and Her Ghost.
“Rain rain go away, please come back another day,” Shia pleaded through clenched teeth, to keep them from cla-cla-clattering. An icy chill seeped into her body head-down as big, fat dragon-sized droplets of rain pummeled her skull through the hood of her yellow rain jacket, which, for the ridiculous amount of money she’d spent on it, shouldn’t have felt thinner than wax paper. One thing was for sure, though: she was never doing business with Elesa’s brand of trainer’s athleisure ever again!
The downpour had cast everything in her vision behind a silvery veil, so she couldn’t see where she was going, but her nav’s compass pointed south which was the direction from which she had come so she put her trust in that and continued to run.
Mud sloshed out of her boots as she barreled through the wide-leaved undergrowth of the forest. The ground had been turned into a soupy mess of mud, rotted pomeg berries, and exposed roots, and she was the one churning it. Her foot caught something—probably a root—and she fell hard, knees first, into the sludge. Mud splashed her face and got in her mouth. She grimaced at its earthy grittiness and spit it out. Then, she realized her hands were empty.
“Oh crap! My nav!”
She felt around in the muck for the little yellow device, whimpering at the different textures she touched. “It’s nothing! They’re nothing!” she sang, willing the monstrous imaginations of her mind to fade away. She knew the sleekness of metal, though, and squealed giddily when she fished her Nav out. The screen still lit up. “Yes! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she peppered it with kisses, muddy lips be damned. She couldn’t lose this baby. Not now.
Struggling to her feet, she noticed the water rose precariously high—to her calves—and slowed her down so much so that, at times when the terrain dipped, she was wading through it. Was this normal? No, it couldn’t be. Was this what they called a flash flood? She’d heard those kinds of things were possible on Route 119, due to the terrain differences in slopes and heights and such, but even during class when they’d covered emergency what-if scenarios, they’d never tackled a situation like this! What to do when you’re in a rockslide? Check. What to do if the volcano erupts? Familiar. But never what to do if you’re caught in a flash flood in the middle of the rainforest? All she knew was to run!
Shia couldn’t believe her luck. Day two of her first traveling experience, and she had to deal with this.
She was a Mauvillite through and through, a silver spoon-fed city girl that hadn’t a need for traveling, let alone owning a pokemon in her 18-year life until she wanted to move away from the shadow of her parent’s success. Seven months ago, she’d taken the first steps to do exactly that. All it took for her to become a licensed trainer was a six-month speed course and an ounce of luck. Who knew!
After graduation, brewing with excitement and newfound ambition, she came up with the idea of surprising Dylan, her boyfriend, in Fortree for his birthday. She spent the last month planning her trip, watching the weather until it was just clear enough to make the trek up to the treetop city unscathed. She knew Route 119 was known for its frequent precipitation, and she had prepared for it, but it shouldn’t have been raining now, and so strongly, no less. So, why was it?!
Her wrinkling, chilled fingers gripped her Nav as she struggled to make out the mud-encrusted and wet-beaded screen through the onslaught. She wiped and refreshed and waited. Even though she had four bars of signal strength, it took a minute to load, longer than usual. She wasn’t worried, though. It was the latest PokeNav Plus model—their most durable, their most reliable, and their most waterproof. An Hoenn pro trainer must-have. She’d bought two of them, one for herself and one for Dylan’s birthday gift.
She’d skimmed through the reviews, and they were generally pretty positive. She trusted what she read, plus 4.8/5 stars were convincing enough on its own. Besides, why would people go out of their way to leave a review if they weren’t passionate about the product? She’d wished she’d been so thorough before she bought this stupid, flimsy rain jacket. Yellow wasn’t even her color.
When her weather app finally loaded, it parroted what it had been forecasting all week for the Route 119 area: clear skies.
“What the…” She slowed her pace, captivated by a tree with a hollowed trunk. Shia was used to the artificial lush of Mauville’s perfectly designed central park. A tree like this wasn’t within an architect’s capability. It was both naturally strange and naturally beautiful. Maybe she could take shelter here temporarily, while she caught her bearings.
The opening was wider than it was tall, and she had to crouch slightly to keep from bumping her head on tree, but inside she had enough room to stand up straight. If anyone had ever wondered what the inside of a tree smelled like, well, it smelled like musk and wood. With its awkward structure, the exposed roots snaking through the ground like a Frenzy Plant attack, she thought that perhaps there was a time years ago, where there might have been dirt where she was now standing. Before flash flood after flash flood had eroded the soft soils away.
Admittedly, she probably should’ve checked if there was a wild pokemon hiding within before she sprung in, but she had other concerns and an immediate relief. She was just grateful for the makeshift roof.
She peeled her hood back and pulled her ponytail lose from her hair tie. Dark curls fell around her, and she gathered them, twisting and ringing handfuls free of moisture. Then, she tied it back up. Traveling with long hair was a crime, she decided. The salon treatment she would need after today... She wondered if there were any good places in Fortree.
She tried the nav again and refreshed it, but again, it read the same. Clear skies.
She pulled up the search engine, clumsily thumbed, ‘W E A T H E R’, and held her breath as she waited for the page to load. Seriously, she hadn’t noticed the stalled load times before. But maybe that was because she was panicked now. Maybe that was how they had always been.
The page stuttered then displayed the same weekly forecast: clear. skies.
“Stupid thing!” she threw the Nav down and covered her face to hold back the tears. This was awful. So awful. She shouldn’t have come out here, and she shouldn’t have come alone. She shouldn’t have thought she was capable of doing anything by herself. Maybe Mother was right.
Shia let out another choked exhale. Her breath did little to warm her hands, which were so cold against her face. They felt like they weren’t hers, anymore, trembling all on their own. She hadn’t been able to stop shivering ever since she fell. Her trail pants were no longer just dark below the knee, but darkened completely and covered in mud and forest bits, and her yellow rain jacket clung to her like a swimsuit. Some water resistance this was. And her bag—
Shia’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Her back was pressed firmly against the bark of the tree; no awkward protrusions in between when there should have been. “Oh crap,” she whined, mind jumping to trace back over her steps. “My bag...”
It was gone. All of her supplies: her extra clothes, her sleeping bag, her tent, her packed food, her hydro flask, her nav’s portable charger, her utility knife, her lighter, her repellent, my purse, Dylan’s gift!—all gone.
But where?
A fully-brown zigzagoon skidded to halt at the entrance of the tree and stared at Shia with its big brown eyes like it was petrified. If Shia were a pokemon, this zigzagoon would be the one. It was drenched and covered in mud and shivering, looking pitiful in the downpour. It was clearly in search of shelter just like she was and must have not seen her inside when it spotted the tree. She wondered if she’d accidentally taken over his home, if wild pokemon even had those.
“Aww, here, there’s room,” she said, shuffling to the side to make space. It hissed at her, and she jumped. “Hey! Play nice, you!”
It turned and darted underneath the petals of a pomeg flower. An oddish poked its head out of the mud, its leaves pointed razor sharp at the zigzagoon. Then, it softened up and curled its leaves around the zigzagoon. They cowered under the protective cover of the flower together. She felt bad for them, but felt comforted that the rain wasn’t just ruining her day.
She pursed her lips. Something about the sight was reminiscent of something… but what…
Aha!
Back in the clearing. That’s where her bag was! Needing a break, she remembered shedding her bag underneath an oran tree because the bag’s straps were eating at her shoulders, and she’d wanted a light, free snack herself. And then, she’d gotten distracted by a herd of tropius that had appeared. Courage, or was it insanity, had inspired her to approach them, albeit cautiously. They regarded her, sniffed her dark curls curiously, then paid her no mind as they went to nibble at the berries in the treetops. She pet one of the smaller tropius, who was more friendly than the others and nudged her with its head. It kept lifting its neck towards her, seemingly offering her its fruit, but Shia didn’t think it felt right to take it. She guessed juvenile pokemon were like human kids in the sense that they were all too nice and too trusting than a cruel world like this deserved.
It was so surreal, so picturesque that she had to take a picture. One of the herd and a selfie with her little friend. It was the first time she had considered herself an actual trainer. Here in the wild, surrounded by Mother Nature and Mew’s Gifts. Everything was perfect. How it should be.
Then, lightning flashed, and suddenly there was rain, a whole lot of it. Thunder boomed next, so intense it shook the earth and sent the tropius into a panic. They broke out into a stampede, green giants stomping the earth, and Shia ran for her life so as to not get trampled. After a while, she had just wanted to get back home. It hadn’t crossed her mind as to her why she had stopped in the first place.
Idiot.
She bit her lip. A little pain helped draw feeling away from her watery eyes. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, once she became a trainer. But the tears kept threatening to spill over. Today was just too much. She thought about the emergency beacon that came installed in all the latest navs. Once initiated, it’d signal the dispatch center who’d contact the nearest ranger’s station who’d then send a ranger out to find her. She wasn’t embarrassed to use it. She knew it saved lives. And this rain was absolutely too much. She wanted to go back home, back to Mauville where it was safe and warm and free of most precipitation. She’d never missed the city’s odd, donut-dome design so much so until now. And Dylan could always come down to Mauville for his birthday, like he’d done the year prior, right?
But…
No.
Dylan traversed Route 119 all the time. If he could do it, then so could she!
Shia allowed herself one last sigh, one final moment of self-deprecation before she swore off anymore negativity. Solutions only. Dwelling in her feelings would get her nowhere.
Though, before she could feign confidence in her situation, she reached for her belt in hopes of feeling the one poke ball that was supposed to be there.
Please. Please. Please.
Sleek. Smooth. Metal.
“Oh, sweet baby feebas, thank you!”
She clutched the sole poke ball in her hand. She hadn’t used her pokemon once throughout her trip, as there hadn’t been a need. And she didn’t want to make the common rookie mistake she’d heard of which was trainers burning through all their pokefood so quickly because they kept their pokemon out all the time. Affording pokefood was no problem, but she was trying to be responsible starting out and—
Oh, who was she kidding? Pokefood didn’t do much for her pokemon, anyway. It had the kind of diet that gave her the heebie jeebies. Frankly, she was, in fact, quite a fan of its poke ball use, and to be even more honest, she had no clue how her pokemon would even be able to help her. It wasn’t like it was capable of willing the rain away.
But one thing she remembered from trainers’ school was that pokemon had an innate instinct to survive, so they might be more helpful in an emergency situation than a trainer was capable of realizing. Shia hoped that was the case, because the downpour hadn’t eased up, and seemed like it wouldn’t ever..
In any case, she was all out options anyway. Here goes nothing, she thought.
In a flash of light, Sadwick materialized low to the ground, but rose slowly until they were eye level. That was a 1:2 eye ratio, with a duskull involved.
She made sure to focus on the middle part of his skull face instead of his glowing fiery-like eye while it swayed between his sockets, lest she hypnotize herself again. It’d taken her a week to learn her lesson, and upon realizing that she actually was growing and gaining new knowledge—wisdom—she felt the seedlings of pride take root within her chest. This helped her steel her nerves, like she normally tried to do before facing him. But this time, she knew she couldn’t quite quell the despair she felt for her situation.
After all, she had turned to him out of desperation, which was exactly the type of helpless energy and unfortunate circumstance that duskull lived for.
“Hi, Sadwick. Did you rest well?” She spoke slowly and calmly with a strained smile. This part was always unnerving, but she was starting to understand his unique ways of communicating.
Sadwick’s body quivered, his robe-like body folding about him. Then came his voice, low in volume but discordant and hard on the ears. Even though she was already cold and shivering, and more importantly, bracing herself for what she knew would come; the sound was still capable of forcibly evoking a bodily response in anyone that was instinctual: a shudder.
Sadwick quivered in response and his eye pulsed, pleased.
“Yeah, Sadwick. I’m pleased to see you, too. Are you hungry?”
Yesterday morning, as she was leaving Mauville, she had been sure to pass through a cemetery on the way out, and since then, Sadwick had been confined to his poke ball. Theoretically, he should’ve still been fine, but she knew there was no way he was going to pass up on the big breakfast that was her aura. She just hoped it wasn’t too much. The nightmare Sadwick could become…
No. No negative thoughts!
Silly, silly girl. Mother’s words popped into her head, and she clenched her eyes shut, willing them away.
Shut up shut up shut up!
When she opened them, Sadwick had moved closer, and was drifting up and down around her in a lazy arc. In her mind, she imagined him nibbling off of floating orbs of negativity that surrounded her, some big and some small but all delightfully delicious.
Sadwick liked to take his sweet time eating. Normally, that was a good thing, but when you were the main course, it suddenly lost its appeal. It felt like she was under the telescope, being dissected and separated from all her bad bits—but she liked her bad bits. They weren’t always a party at times, but they were still hers.
She sighed. In the first couple of weeks, his feeding process had been unnerving. But now? It was just a part of their tedious everyday routine.
One day, it struck her that this was how Dylan must have felt when he stuck around on the days she got an itch to re-christen her parents’ credit cards. At first, she couldn’t understand how he didn’t understand the beauty of shopping… How could anyone be so lifeless surrounded by so many cute clothes? But really, it was the simple fact that he just didn’t see the world through the same lense as her. Just like how she couldn’t see the world through Sadwick’s lense. It didn’t make his reality anymore lesser than hers; if anything, it was enough for her to know that it simply existed and brought him joy. Apparently, knowing that must have been enough for Dylan, too, because he still accompanied her to Mauville’s malls even when it was clear he’d rather be anywhere else than the dressing room’s wait bench. It was that small realization that made Shia love him that much more.
It was part of the reasons why she still wanted to make the trip to Fortree, and why, in spite of the unexpected setbacks of the day, she wanted to persevere. Because Dylan would, and consistently has, done the same for her.
So, what was a little rain, a little cold, and a little waiting while Sadwick fed off of her aura if it meant that she couldn’t wait to see Dylan?
He had always waited for her, and it was because he had always waited for her that she knew that waiting wasn’t for her. She didn’t want to wait. Not right now. Not in this moment. Not if waiting meant silently standing by, loyal but unfulfilled. It was time for action and time she showed him that she could be just as impatient for him as he was patient for as long as it meant seeing the person she loved most in the world.
She believed in a love that empowered all to live in their realities uncompromised. Dylan deserved to not only know that, but to have that. She needed to see him, to remind him of that in person.
“Alright, Sadwick, now don’t be greedy.” She swatted him away and made sure there was an appropriate amount of distance between them before she continued. Although she was feeling better mentally, her physical conditions were less than ideal, so it was only sensible that she be cautious.
“Now, I need you to help me figure out how we’re going to survive the night, okay? Think you can do that?”
Sadwick quivered.
Shia narrowed her eyes. She wanted to take that as a yes. But, she had also said ‘survive the night’, which had to have been every ghost-type’s favorite words.
“We are not out here for fun. You hear me?”
Sadwick sank a little lower.
“Okay, now, here’s the plan.”
* * *
The rain was now a light drizzle. Shia had a feeling it wouldn’t last, though. She needed to move quickly.
“Come on, Sadwick.”
She slipped on her hood and approached the huddling oddish and zigzagoon.
“You can have your place back!” She pointed at the hollowed trunk. “Doesn’t it look waaay more dry and inviting?”
The oddish only blinked at her, but the zigzagoon bared its tiny fangs.
“A fierce little guy, aren’t you.”
The zigzagoon growled, and she stepped back.
It didn’t look like they were going to budge from their flower umbrella.
Too bad she wanted it.
She sent Sadwick away. With less “threats” to focus on, it was less likely for the zigzagoon to attack, and a zigzagoon was the last pokemon she wanted to be the first pokemon her and Sadwick’s first battled against.
For one, Sadwick wasn’t exactly battle trained and ready. Between planning for the journey and the time it took her to get adjusted to having a duskull as her very first pokemon, Shia hadn’t set much time aside for training. And while she didn’t know much about Sadwick other than the fact that he had been bred by one of Mother’s friends and had only hatched from his an egg a few months prior to when she received him, Shia knew that the environment he was raised in was not battle-oriented. You didn’t fight in libraries unless you have a death wish for the librarian.
It was ironic that zigzagoon were considered among the least dangerous pokemon in the Hoenn region (and consequently, were sought out by beginner trainers alike as the go-to wild pokemon to pick on) because they were high on Shia’s “Do Not Engage With” list for one important reason.
She had a ghost-type that only possessed offensive ghost-type moves, and against a normal-type pokemon, that meant she had nothing. Sadwick couldn’t hurt a single hair on a zigzagoon’s normal-type body. And sure, by that same logic, Sadwick’s ghost-type body was safe from zigzagoon’s normal-type advances; but that was only a stalemate in a trainer’s battle. In the wild, that left her defenseless with a useless pokemon that couldn’t only watch while she was attacked. And in her specific case, it left her with a pokemon that might thoroughly enjoy watching her be attacked. If Sadwick knew the amount of fear he could feed off of if he realized the situation, if Shia let it come to that, then she was doubly screwed.
Duskull were insidious, tricky creatures if not handled carefully. Even before she had done her research on them, growing up, everyone knew about the horror stories; they were told around campfires and sleepovers. Stories of duskull turning into bullies, scaring their own trainers just to feed off of their energy. Stories of duskull stalking schoolgirls at night. Stories of trainers losing their minds because their duskull had turned scaring them into one sick game. That premise had inspired the popular movie series Scream, which was massively popular in Unova until the premieres starting attracting massive hoards of duskull to cities and towns alike—though, the studio in charge did come under fire when it was suspected that it was part of some elaborate marketing ploy..
Personally, Shia thought the movie series was cheap and misrepresented duskull, but even she had been privy to its affects when she first receieved Sadwick. She remembered the flashes of intrusive thoughts where she saw Sadwick as a crazed murderer instead of an innocent ghost-type creature that was simply as curious as she was. She felt ashamed. She hadn’t even nicknamed him yet.
So, taking Dad’s advice—“Knowledge defeats superstition”—she did a lot of research to rid of herself of the dumb single story shameless Unovan films had given her. However, pop culture aside, it couldn’t be denied that duskull were difficult pokemon to train regardless. Coven, a top Hoennese tabloid featured duskull in a list of top ten pokemon that Hoennese and Sinnohan trainers were likely to release. And it was all because trainers underestimated what it took to train them. Shia didn’t want to make the same mistake, which is why she had to be conscious of everything. She’d found a little indie book dedicated specifically to raising duskull, and lived by it.
Rule #1: Play chess.
If trainers remembered to stay two, three, four steps ahead, then raising duskull was a matter of assessing situations, reading the opponent, and planning ahead.
Shia hated chess, but she liked keeping her sanity in tact, so she made due. She had a plan. This zigzagoon wasn’t going to give her any grief on her watch.
She smiled weakly at the pair: an oddish and a zigzagoon… Who would’ve thought?
“Sorry, guys. No hard feelings, right?”
The wild pokemon were so focused on her, they hadn’t noticed Sadwick drifting behind them. She raised her hand, and as expected, the wild pokemon locked on it. Sadwick had his signal.
She wasn’t betting on using sheer force to move the zigzagoon. She was betting on using sound.
He shrank himself, then exploded outwards, letting out a ear-grating screech that still made Shia flinch despite expecting it. The oddish’s leaves went stiff, and it seemed to faint, poor thing. The zigzagoon darted for the hollow. But as soon as it got within the safety of the tree, it started growling.
“Huh? What’s wrong with you now!”
It dove at Shia’s feet, and she jumped back, unintentionally tossing up a wide splash. It splattered the zigzagoon directly in the face and it backed away, rubbing at its face.
“Sadwick, now!” Shia crouched and yanked at the root of the pomeg flower. “Pull!”
Sadwick hated taking full corporeality, if only because his body lacked much physical strength. Still, Shia needed all the help she could get ripping the plant out of the ground. The muddy earth might’ve helped loosen the plant had she been able to keep herself from sliding, and her wet and muddy hands struggled to keep a grip, too. She crouched and pulled on the flower’s thick stem with her arms, then with her back, then with her knees. She couldn’t remember which body part Dylan had said to use when she lifted things—he was the weight-lifting junkie, after all—but she knew she was hurting all over no matter what she tried.
“Sadwick, you’re not even helping!” He was pulling weakly at the petals. “Grab the base!”
He let out a wailing sound. He couldn’t bring himself to hover so low above the ground for too long. He seemed scared to land. Or maybe…
“You too good to get a little dirty?!”
It whined louder.
“Good grief!”
Don’t tell me he’s a house’mon!
Shia heard the growl before she saw the flash of brown out of the corner of her eye. She bobbed, reflexively, twisting around the plant just as the zigzagoon went soaring right pass her face. His claws slashed at the air and stabbed the ground when it landed and circled around. It was hissing violently, and looking really scary.
“Oh, crap,” Shia mumbled.
Sadwick appeared right at her ear, breathing heavy, quivering.
“Now’s not the time! Go away!” Her hand passed through his body as she tried to shoo him away, and a chill climbed up her spine. She growled through it. “Argh! If you’re not gonna help, at least try to defend me!”
Rule #2: Channel your fear into another emotion.
She chose anger.
Sadwick moved in between her and the zigzagoon. It didn’t make much sense, though, as when zigzagoon dove with a tackle attack, it passed right through Sadwick’s gray body and went straight towards her.
She tried ducking behind the flower, putting her nose directly into the flower’s center. The spicy sweetness of the pollen made her nose tingle, and cleared her sinuses right up, but it also gave her a rush akin to adrenaline. She sneezed, and with a sudden burst of herculean strength, the pomeg flower’s roots snapped. She flew back holding the flower, and it blocked the zigzagoon’s fangs, which dug in.
He shook his little stuck body, growling into the plant all the while Shia screamed and screamed. Seeing a murderous zigzagoon up close was not on her bucket list. She threw the plant aside, and the zigzagoon went with it.
As she was scrambling to her feet, her hand brushed against something sharp that made her cry out. The oddish! It was half-deep in mud, but its head leaf blades were razor sharp. She had totally forgotten it was passed out underneath the flower, and by the looks of one of it’s ripped leaves, she probably stepped on it.
Oops.
No wonder the zigzagoon had been so incessant on attacking her. It thought she was attacking its friend.
Shia glanced the cut. It went straight across her fingers on her right hand, but it wasn’t so deep that it was bleeding, only like a paper cut. It hurt to curl them, and she thought they kind of felt numb, but she chalked it up to adrenaline and shock. Something like that.
The zigzagoon had finally worked its tiny fangs free of the plant and charged again when Sadwick suddenly appeared in front of it. Shia couldn’t see what he did to stop the zigzagoon mid-charge, but when Sadwick moved aside, the zigzagoon swayed, and its eyes were out of focus. It shook its head through the daze and stumbled over its little legs. Huh?
“What did you do?” Shia asked. Sadwick’s eye pulsed and for a second she felt light-headed.
Focus. Just…not on his eye, she remembered.
“Whatever, let’s just get out of here!” Shia grabbed the pomeg flower. She was a little wet, and even more filthy, but she had what she wanted. Now, all she needed was a stick, which—how hard would that be to find in a rainforest? She cackled. Loudly,. Surprising herself and offending duskull because she was smiling for the first time since the downpour had started. She could do this. She could do this survival thing, after all.
Before she took off, she waved at the oddish and the zigzagoon, who had both retreated into the hollowed tree.
“Stay friends for a long time, yeah!”
She took off running into the undergrowth with her duskull slow behind her.
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