Pokémon Tales From the Pokemon Centre

[SparklingEspeon]

​

The pokemon centre out west, where Mistralton City ends and the expanse begins. It’s the last stop between the farmlands and forests of Unova and the deserts of Kalos and Orre; the gateway to thousands of miles of barren cornfields. It stands all on its own, at the very outskirts of the nearest city, with only a flickering streetlamp, a grimy sign, and miles upon miles of bare, flat plains beyond. It might as well be at the ends of the earth.

At first glance, it’s just like any other pokemon centre. It’s got the PC box that’s only wiped down once a week despite company regulations, the battered red-and-white tables and seats, the shop in the back that sells things at a higher price than the store across the street, but gets more business because of the convenience. Hundreds of trainers—some travelling, some just stopping by—swarm in and out of this building every day, and none of them are the wiser.

Those who work here know better.

The building operates just like it should when the sun is up, when it’s crowded with people and pokemon, and the Nurse Joy at the counter is just as cheery as the chansey in the back.

But at night, the walls listen to your every word. The hallways stretch out and twist into labyrinths, threatening to swallow you into their depths. The centre lives and breathes, its pulse in the furniture, its veins in the wallpaper, its eyes in the lightbulbs. Some, perceptive to the unknown, have felt they were walking into the belly of the beast when they entered through its gaping doors. Some, less fortunate, didn’t have a choice. And some, those least fortunate of all, never lived to tell the tale.

These are the tales of those who braved night after night to ‘mon the desks and counters, the dark hallways, the empty rooms, for those in need of a quick healing. Their deeds are not in vain. These are tales from the pokemon centre.

Spoiler: Table of Contents

01. Prologue: The New Hire
02. The Bugs

 

[SparklingEspeon]

01.

The New Hire​

Indeedee like myself weren’t common in the nursing profession. If one couldn’t learn Heal Pulse, one didn’t have a place in the nursing field as far as most Humans could be bothered—even if one had the proper school. Many of us were lumped in with the psychics and empaths, pushed towards jobs like therapy and criminal interrogation. Neither of those were for me.

See, I always wanted to be a nurse, ever since I was young. Against my parents’ wanting, I went out to get the education and training, so one day I could work in a centre just like my heroes. Of course, having proper training doesn’t mean much when you’re a pokemon—pokemon positions are nearly entirely dominated by those who can heal with energy. That’s what’s wanted from us. Therefore, my resume wasn’t met with enthusiasm when I graduated and applied—nor many job offerings, for that matter.

But this centre was always taking. There had been a listing for a while on the pokejobs system for an assistant nurse position at a centre in Mistralton City, Unova. They’d take any reasonably-sized pokemon that could carry things, had medical knowledge, and could do the odd job here and there. This centre had a high turnover rate and Mistralton was far from a large city, so I turned it down at first. But the more desperate I grew, the more appealing it looked, and soon enough I found myself on the early morning flight from Galar to Unova to take the job.

My plane landed with an hour to spare, and I wasted no time finding a map at the desolate airport and making my way to the centre—on the outskirts of town. The instructions said to be there at 9:00, or 15:00 Unovan Time for my orientation, but being there half an hour early never hurt. While walking, I couldn’t help but notice the printed slip I had in my paw said nothing about an interview. Perhaps this centre wanted to do it with the orientation.

And so there I was, standing outside the doors of Milstraton City’s only pokemon centre, carrying a paper slip and a suitcase about as small as a Human’s purse. I took a deep breath before walking up to the centre’s doors and letting them slide apart to admit me. I hoped this job was the one. Otherwise, I’d be mopping hallways at a centre in Spikemuth.

I could feel the disappointment radiating off my mum already: ‘You should have gone into battling like we told you, there’s lots of money to be had there! Unlike this dead-end of a career. Nursing’s for the fairies, the chansey, and the masochists, no reason to bother if you can help it.’ And the worst part was, she’d be right.

Well, I was determined to prove her wrong.

The inside of the building was nice and warm, unlike the damp, gloomy chilliness of the streets. The centre was spacious and crowded with people and pokemon, and I could see customers lining up on the right to buy from the shop near the main desk. In the back, I spied the pokemon staff going about their duties there. I walked up to the desk, and hopped up to hit the bell. The Nurse Joy who sat at the counter looked up from her computer and then glanced down at me—I was too short to see over the desk.

“Mistralton City Pokemon Centre! How can we help you?” she asked, giving me the same rehearsed line and wide, ghoulish smile that was given to everyone at the front desk in this region. I knew the lines by heart.

I snappily signed out in pokesign that I was here to fill the assistant nurse position for the centre, and had been told to come here for an orientation.

“Oh…” the clerk tapped something into her computer, squinted, and then nodded. “Yes, it’s here.” More tapping. “Your orientation is at three. Why don’t you take a seat until then? Maybe order something from our café? The trip from Galar must have been long.”

Politely, I nodded, and then signed a question: Don’t you interview new recruits first?

The nurse suddenly looked a little nervous. She brushed it off as quickly as it came on, replying smoothly: “For a position like this, you don’t have to do much. We saw your resume and decided you were a keeper!”

She flashed me another rehearsed smile, but her eyes read differently, with the same nervousness she had tried to hide. And the unease; oh, I could feel it. It was radiating right off her like she was a beacon for the nearest litwick. It was plain as day: she knew something I didn’t.

I thanked her, then took a seat on an empty booth near the left of the centre. Nothing seemed wrong about the place, but the clerk’s behaviour was enough to give me pause. Given the high turnover rate and how long the position had been open, I had to wonder if I was walking into a bad situation. But even if I was, beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers! I needed the job. Other centres would be more likely to take me if I’d worked at one before, especially in a region like Unova. I only had to stay long enough to put it on my resume—a couple months, give or take a few days.

As I waited, I decided I would order something from the café after all. I hadn’t eaten since before boarding the plane.

At 14:55, an audino wearing the same paper hat that all Unova centre staff wore emerged from backdoors, scanning the crowd. Their eyes settled on me. I gave them a wave. They quickly scuttled over, stubbing their foot on someone’s bag and groaning a quick apology to the trainer as they hopped on one foot over to me.

“You’re the new staff member, right?” she panted, trying not to look like she was in pain from her foot—I didn’t have the bluntness to mention that I could sense it anyway.

“That’s me,” I said with a smile, clutching the suitcase in my lap and preparing to get up.

“Great!” the audino looked relieved, shuffling around in place for a minute. “I’ve… mixed them up before. I’m Belle, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Isadora,” I said.

“Your application said you’re a registered nurse?” Bell asked as we walked down the back-end hallways of the pokemon centre. The building seemed to have more in it than it looked like it could hold from the outside.

“That’s right,” I replied calmly as I walked with Belle, suitcase in hand. “Got my license at the University of Motostoke.”

“That’s better than me,” Belle responded with a titter and a nervous headscratch. “I’m an assistant nurse, but I don’t have any of that fancy stuff. I just direct heal pulse wherever Head tells me to.”
It took some willpower to stop my scoff from coming out. Being an audino, Belle didn't have to work for it - she could get hired by just about any centre she applied to.
"But-- Umm-- at least you know a lot!" she said, realising her gaff seconds later. "That's great, right?"

“Head?” I asked, trying to gloss over it. “As in, head nurse?”

“Head nurse and night shift manager,” said Belle. “But everyone just calls her Head. You’ll see when you meet her. Your position is for the graveyard shift, by the way. Just in case you didn’t know.”

I had read about it when applying, but nodded politely anyway.

“To start off, we’re in the residential section of the centre,” Belle announced, gesturing to the rooms as we passed them. “Trainers sometimes stay the night here, but we discourage them if we don’t have the right rooms open. More on that later. Umm… You’ll be sharing a room with me, it’s down here on the left…”

Belle was a jittery pokemon and more than a little clumsy, but even though she was nervous the whole time, she was kind. She showed me everything I needed to know about the place, like where the medical supplies were stored, where pokemon were treated, and where all the relevant doors and exits were.

“Under no circumstances should you go out back at night!” she told me when we stopped by the entrance to the space behind the centre.

“But what about emptying cans into the dumpsters?” I asked.

“Nonono!” she said. “We don’t do that. The day shift does it for us when they arrive.”

“Oh,” I replied. “Is it a bad area of town?”

That might have explained why no-one seemed to want this job.

“Something like that,” Belle trailed off, unconvincingly.

Before long, we were both sitting in the bedroom we shared, where a cot had been set up for me on the wall opposite Belle’s. A funny-looking charm hung from the door; I thought it was pretty decoration. My case sat on the bed next to me; I hadn’t yet opened it. During university, I gained a habit of only unpacking when I was comfortable in a place.

This was a room that was clearly meant for a human, but had been repurposed to suit the two of us. I knew centres had pokemon-only dorms, and a section was shown to me on the way in, but Belle had been adamant that only a couple of rooms could be used. Left to draw my own conclusions on the matter, I had to assume there was some kind of damage in most of them.
"I have a question," I said, breaking the silence.

“O-oh!” Belle, who had been mulling something over, snapped to attention. “Yes. Go ahead. Questions are what I’m here for.”

“When I applied for the position,” I began. “I noticed the turnover rate. And I was accepted without so much as an interview! So, I was wondering if there was anything I should be aware of?”

“Ahaha…” Belle laughed, nervously scratching the back of her head. “Well… I guess it’s better to have the talk sooner rather than later.”

“Talk?” I asked. But deep down, I knew I didn’t need to. It was coming: the catch.

“This centre…” Belle began. “It’s not like the others. Especially if you work here at night. The talk of the town is that this place is haunted. An old urban legend says that centuries ago, a cult or something performed some creepy ritual here and cursed the place. Now whenever something strange happens, everyone blames ghosts. We have a bad reputation because of that.

Belle continued quickly before I could open my mouth.

“If you want my thoughts… the day staff swears it’s all phony, but anyone who works the graveyard shift knows better," she insisted. "This place changes at night. It’s why we don’t rent rooms out to anyone, and why we always do our duties in pairs, and why we don’t go out in the back alley at night. The amount of strange things that have happened here and the amount of people who’ve seen them is too large to be fake.

"And here’s the big one," said Belle. "No-one on the night shift has successfully kept a position here longer than a year, not even the Nurse Joy at the counter. They always step down after a while, citing illness or strange vibes or opportunities elsewhere. And if they don’t… bad things happen to them.”

During all that, I couldn’t help but uncomfortably fidget. That put a lot into perspective. Hauntings weren’t out of the question, of course, but usually ghost types doing the dirty deeds could easily be apprehended.

“Have you considered the possibility of a ghost-type haunting?” I asked. “Everything you’ve told me sounds like the work of a nasty gengar.”

“They’ve swept the place several times,” Belle said. “Usually after some trainer gets spooked and files a police report. Every time… take a wild guess?”

“Nothing?” I guessed.

“Nothing,” Belle said.

I suddenly had a lot more to mull over. Belle seemed very convinced… but I wasn’t completely sold yet. Perhaps it was more the desperation at wanting this job more than anything, but even if it was true, I could bear a few ghostly pranks at night. How bad could it all be?

~(-O-)~​

As the sun slowly set over the box-shaped sprawl of Mistralton and the archways of the pokemon centre, I donned the folded paper hat that all pokemon centre staff wore, and walked out into the large staff’s quarters that lay just behind the impressive façade of the lobby.

The other workers had gathered as well. There was Primrose, a lilligant who did the housekeeping, as well as Dave, an inteleon who was a doctor. Arlone, a rotom, worked the centre computers and systems after night. Along with me and Bell, the two assistant nurses, the graveyard staff seemed to have assembled.

Then came Head.

Head, the nighttime Nurse Joy and manager, was a massive, stern blissey—she towered over me, and size-wise she’d give most humans a run for their money. A pink wig and a Nurse Joy hat sat atop her head, and a smudged, yellowing apron hung around her front. The harsh, deep-set expression on her face conveyed one thing and one thing only: business.

“Alright, we have a new recruit on the job!” she barked out, marching in front of us all out in a line. Halfway through, she stopped and stared imposingly at me. “Belle ran you through the specifics, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” I nodded. Belle, next to me, let out a deep, shaky breath. Head must scare her.

“No need to use ma’am, it makes me feel old,” grunted Head. And then she moved on.

“I’ll be straight-up with ya,” she said, returning to her position at centre, paws clasped behind her back. “This ain’t your normal, run-of-the-mill centre job. We have a high turnover rate for a reason. Now, you all know the rules; you stick to them. Always carry a map. Always travel in pairs. Never open any door you haven’t seen before. Never touch any object you haven’t seen before. If you see something strange, if you hear something strange, ya didn’t. Giving it attention gives it power. No newcomer who wants a room after the sun has fallen gets one. No opening any windows or doors except in the lobby until the sun has risen. Only one door’s protected. And most importantly: Never turn the lights out. Kapeesh?”

She was looking straight at me there.

“Understood,” I said, nodding.

“Good,” said Head. “Alright, disperse, all of you! Arlone, schedules. Belle, with Isadora, you don’t need to shadow me anymore.”

The rotom nodded with a buzz, zipping off into a nearby computer screen and disappearing with a crackle and a ‘pop!’.

“We’ll be waiting around here in the break room until some patients are assigned to us,” said Belle. “But it should be quiet tonight, we only have a couple staying.”

And that was how night one began. There weren’t any ghosts, and truth be told I thought the staff here were just scaring themselves on urban legends and campfire stories. I had no doubts in my head that the next couple months were going to be a completely mundane affair; though if I was right, I could see why the ‘mon before me had all quit—this town really was a desolate, liminal, crumbling place. I could see anyone breaking after enough time spent between the airport runway, the few decrepit buildings, and the endless plains beyond.

‘a couple months’, I told myself, shaking off the feeling of unease stroking up and down my spine like icy fingers. ‘just a couple months’.

 

[Spiteful Murkrow]

Heya, I remembered you talking about this fic back in spring, and while it took me a while to get around to it, I figured that now was as good a time as any to poke my head in and see what it was all about:

00

Spoiler

The pokemon centre out west, where Mistralton City ends and the expanse begins. It’s the last stop between the farmlands and forests of Unova and the deserts of Kalos and Orre; the gateway to thousands of miles of barren cornfields. It stands all on its own, at the very outskirts of the nearest city, with only a flickering streetlamp, a grimy sign, and miles upon miles of bare, flat plains beyond. It might as well be at the ends of the earth.

Ah yes, that’s definitely an unconventional region arrangement there. I wonder if that was deliberately cooked up for this story, or else if that’s just how you headcanon how things slot together in Pokéworld.

At first glance, it’s just like any other pokemon centre. It’s got the PC box that’s only wiped down once a week despite company regulations, the battered red-and-white tables and seats, the shop in the back that sells things at a higher price than the store across the street, but gets more business because of the convenience. Hundreds of trainers—some travelling, some just stopping by—swarm in and out of this building every day, and none of them are the wiser.

>company regulations

Ah yes, even in Pokéworld, the locals are not spared from the hell of for-profit medical care. And here I thought that was just a Po Town thing.

Those who work here know better.

Which is a sign that only good things™ happen here. The best things, really.

The building operates just like it should when the sun is up, when it’s crowded with people and pokemon, and the Nurse Joy at the counter is just as cheery as the chansey in the back.

But at night, the walls listen to your every word. The hallways stretch out and twist into labyrinths, threatening to swallow you into their depths. The centre lives and breathes, its pulse in the furniture, its veins in the wallpaper, its eyes in the lightbulbs. Some, perceptive to the unknown, have felt they were walking into the belly of the beast when they entered through its gaping doors. Some, less fortunate, didn’t have a choice. And some, those least fortunate of all, never lived to tell the tale.

Wait, so… this place becomes a Mystery Dungeon at night? Since vibe-wise this feels really reminiscent of how Mystery Dungeons in Psychic Sheep are.

These are the tales of those who braved night after night to ‘mon the desks and counters, the dark hallways, the empty rooms, for those in need of a quick healing. Their deeds are not in vain. These are tales from the pokemon centre.

And I see that our first victim is a new hire. Let’s go ahead and see how that turns out:

01

Spoiler

Indeedee like myself weren’t common in the nursing profession. If one couldn’t learn Heal Pulse, one didn’t have a place in the nursing field as far as most Humans could be bothered—even if one had the proper school. Many of us were lumped in with the psychics and empaths, pushed towards jobs like therapy and criminal interrogation. Neither of those were for me.

Could’ve fooled me with how Indeedee nurses show up in the anime, but I suppose that makes sense. Though I suppose that even in the field of medicine, there is no escape from bludoge given that they have Heal Pulse as a level-up move.

See, I always wanted to be a nurse, ever since I was young. Against my parents’ wanting, I went out to get the education and training, so one day I could work in a centre just like my heroes. Of course, having proper training doesn’t mean much when you’re a pokemon—pokemon positions are nearly entirely dominated by those who can heal with energy. That’s what’s wanted from us. Therefore, my resume wasn’t met with enthusiasm when I graduated and applied—nor many job offerings, for that matter.

Wait, is this in some sort of PMD-esque world? Since I admittedly did a bit of a double-take at the idea of an Indeedee having a resume.

But this centre was always taking. There had been a listing for a while on the pokejobs system for an assistant nurse position at a centre in Mistralton City, Unova. They’d take any reasonably-sized pokemon that could carry things, had medical knowledge, and could do the odd job here and there. This centre had a high turnover rate and Mistralton was far from a large city, so I turned it down at first. But the more desperate I grew, the more appealing it looked, and soon enough I found myself on the early morning flight from Galar to Unova to take the job.

>Pokejobs arranges migrant/expat labor in this setting

That’s definitely bigger in scope than I was expecting. Though no mention of humans at all all this time, huh? I can’t tell whether or not Pokémon that live among humans have an I, Isobel-esque existence, or else if this is just a “no humans” version of mainline here. I mean, my assumption is the former given the mention of ‘Nurse Joy’ in the intro, but…

My plane landed with an hour to spare, and I wasted no time finding a map at the desolate airport and making my way to the centre—on the outskirts of town. The instructions said to be there at 9:00, or 15:00 Unovan Time for my orientation, but being there half an hour early never hurt. While walking, I couldn’t help but notice the printed slip I had in my paw said nothing about an interview. Perhaps this centre wanted to do it with the orientation.

And you just found nothing wrong about this at all, huh Indeedee?

And so there I was, standing outside the doors of Milstralton City’s only pokemon centre, carrying a paper slip and a suitcase about as small as a Human’s purse. I took a deep breath before walking up to the centre’s doors and letting them slide apart to admit me. I hoped this job was the one. Otherwise, I’d be mopping hallways at a centre in Spikemuth.

I could feel the disappointment radiating off my mum already: ‘You should have gone into battling like we told you, there’s lots of money to be had there! Unlike this dead-end of a career. Nursing’s for the fairies, the chansey, and the masochists, no reason to bother if you can help it.’ And the worst part was, she’d be right.

Well, I was determined to prove her wrong.

I kinda wonder if this first paragraph works better as two smaller ones, since the second half seems to have a bit of a different premise than the first one.

Though ah yes, stubbornly proving a point to disapproving parents. Just one what needs to make ill-advised double downs on bad choices.

The inside of the building was nice and warm, unlike the damp, gloomy chilliness of the streets. The centre was spacious and crowded with people and pokemon, and I could see customers lining up on the right to buy from the shop near the main desk. In the back, I spied the pokemon staff going about their duties there. I walked up to the desk, and hopped up to hit the bell. The Nurse Joy who sat at the counter looked up from her computer and then glanced down at me—I was too short to see over the desk.

“Mistralton City Pokemon Centre! How can we help you?” she asked, giving me the same rehearsed line and ghoulish smile that was given to all pokemon at the front desk. I knew the lines by heart.

Well, there’s our answer to the human matter there. Though ghoulish smile? As in Indeedee finds it creepy and offputting? I didn’t expect to hear that, much less that it would also apply to the Nurse Joys of Pokécenters even back in Galar.

I snappily signed out in pokesign that I was here to fill the assistant nurse position for the centre, and had been told to come here for an orientation.

>Pokésign

Actually, does that originate from somewhere? Since I swear that I’ve heard that term used before by other authors, even if I’m drawing blanks on where right now.

“Oh…” the clerk tapped something into her computer, squinted, and then nodded. “Yes, it’s here.” More tapping. “Your orientation is at three. Why don’t you take a seat until then? Maybe order something from our café? The trip from Galar must have been long.”

Politely, I nodded, and then signed a question: Don’t you interview new recruits first?

You’d think so, but with an intro like that, I’m not sure if they could get any new talent if they did an interview first. ^^;

The nurse suddenly looked a little nervous. She brushed it off as quickly as it came on, replying smoothly: “For a position like this, you don’t have to do much. We saw your resume and decided you were a keeper!”

She flashed me another rehearsed smile, but her eyes read differently, with the same nervousness she had tried to hide. And the nervousness; oh, I could feel it. It was radiating right off her like she was a beacon for the nearest litwick. It was plain as day: she knew something I didn’t.

Another paragraph that IMO works better cut-up. Though are Pokémon in this setting generally not literate in human scripts or something? Since I’m a little curious as to how Indeedee didn’t just fire up Not!Glassdoor and see the wave of horror story reviews from local workers before making the jump to get this job. Unless the idea is that said feedback is mysteriously absent or something like that.

I thanked her, then took a seat on an empty booth near the left of the centre. Nothing seemed wrong about the place, but the clerk’s behaviour was enough to give me pause. Given the high turnover rate and how long the position had been open, I had to wonder if I was walking into a bad situation. But even if I was, beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers! I needed the job. Other centres would be more likely to take me if I’d worked at one before, especially in a region like Unova. I only had to stay long enough to put it on my resume—a couple months, give or take a few days.

Is our protagonist even going to last the first week here? Or for that matter, the first day?

As I waited, I decided I would order something from the café after all. I hadn’t eaten since before boarding the plane.

At 14:55, an audino wearing the same paper hat that all Unova centre staff wore emerged from backdoors, scanning the crowd. Their eyes settled on me. I gave them a wave. They quickly scuttled over, stubbing their foot on someone’s bag and groaning a quick apology to the trainer as they hopped on one foot over to me.

“You’re the new staff member, right?” she panted, trying not to look like she was in pain from her foot—I didn’t have the bluntness to mention that I could sense it anyway.

Indeedee: “Indeedy. Indeedee at your service, and you are…?”

“That’s me,” I said with a smile, clutching the suitcase in my lap and preparing to get up.

I kinda wonder if there should’ve been a bit more context provided for how Pokémon working through Pokéjobs take on human practices. Since it’d be a handy way of gauging how normal this is in this world, and if Indeedee has any opinions about this sort of lifestyle.

“Great!” the audino looked relieved, shuffling around in place for a minute. “I’ve… mixed them up before. I’m Belle, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Future chapter protagonist detected there.

“Isadora,” I said.

Huh, so Indeedee does have a proper name. Duly noted, then.

“Your application said you’re a registered nurse?” Belle asked as we walked down the back-end hallways of the pokemon centre. The building seemed to have more in it than it looked like it could hold from the outside.

“That’s right,” I replied calmly as I walked with Belle, suitcase in hand. “Got my license at the University of Motostoke.”

You have a couple of small typos here. Or at least I assume they’re supposed to be typos.

“That’s better than me,” Belle responded with a titter and a nervous headscratch. “I’m an assistant nurse, but I don’t have any of that fancy stuff. I just direct heal pulse wherever Head tells me to.”

“Head?” I asked. “As in, head nurse?”

“Head nurse and night shift manager,” said Belle. “But everyone just calls her Head. You’ll see when you meet her. Your position is for the graveyard shift, by the way. Just in case you didn’t know.”

Ah yes, so Isadora’s just going straight into the deep end for this Pokémon Center, I see. Not stumbling into by accident or anything, just straight into problems on day one.

I had read about it when applying, but nodded politely anyway.

“To start off, we’re in the residential section of the centre,” Belle announced, gesturing to the rooms as we passed them. “Trainers sometimes stay the night here, but we discourage them if we don’t have the right rooms open. More on that later. Umm… You’ll be sharing a room with me, it’s down here on the left…”

Belle was a jittery pokemon and more than a little clumsy, but even though she was nervous the whole time, she was kind. She showed me everything I needed to know about the place, like where the medical supplies were stored, where pokemon were treated, and where all the relevant doors and exits were.

Isadora: “Belle? Are you alright? You seem kinda… tense right now.”

“Under no circumstances should you go out back at night!” she told me.

[ ]

“But what about emptying cans into the dumpsters out back?” I asked.

“Nonono!” she said. “We don’t do that. The day shift does it for us when they arrive.”

IMO, this sequence starts up a bit soon relative to the bit where Belle is described showing Isadora around. If the idea is that Isadora has been zoning out, it might make sense to make it a bit more obvious that Belle’s first line is a continuation of a bunch of text and note that Isadora snaps back to attention after hearing it or something.

“Oh,” I replied. “Is it a bad area of town?”

That might have explained why no-one seemed to want this job.

“Something like that,” Belle trailed off, unconvincingly.

Indeedee: “... I knew I should’ve had someone look this place up on Glassdoor before applying.”

“I have a question,” I ventured once the tour was over. Before long, we were both sitting in the bedroom we shared, where a cot had been set up for me on the wall opposite Belle’s. A funny-looking charm hung from the door; I thought it was pretty decoration. My case sat on the bed next to me; I hadn’t yet opened it. During university, I gained a habit of only unpacking when I was comfortable in a place.

This was a room that was clearly meant for a human, but had been repurposed to suit the two of us. I knew centres had pokemon-only dorms, and a section was shown to me on the way in, but Belle had been adamant that only a couple of rooms could be used. Left to draw my own conclusions on the matter, I had to assume there was some kind of damage in most of them.

“I have a question,” I ventured once the tour was over.

“O-oh!” Belle, who had been mulling something over, snapped to attention. “Yes. Go ahead. Questions are what I’m here for.”

That’s charm’s not just for petty decoration, huh? Though IMO, it makes sense to have Isadora speak up after the sequence of getting into the room and sizing it up, since that’s the proper end of her tour there.

“When I applied for the position,” I began. “I noticed the turnover rate. And I was accepted without so much as an interview! So, I was wondering if there was anything I should be aware of?”

Belle: “...”

Isadora: “... Okay, what’s wrong with this place?” -_-;

“Ahaha…” Belle laughed, nervously scratching the back of her head. “Well… I guess it’s better to have the talk sooner rather than later.”

“Talk?” I asked. But deep down, I knew I didn’t need to. It was coming: the catch.

“This centre…” Belle began. “It’s not like the others. Especially if you work here at night. The talk of the town is that this place is haunted. An old urban legend says that centuries ago, a cult or something performed some creepy ritual here and cursed the place. Now whenever something strange happens, everyone blames ghosts. We have a bad reputation because of that.

Isadora: “... I really should’ve checked Glassdoor before taking this job.”

“If you want my thoughts…” [ ] Belle continued quickly before I could open my mouth.

“If you want my thoughts… The day staff swears it’s all phony, but anyone who works the graveyard shift knows better,” she insisted. “This place changes at night. It’s why we don’t rent rooms out to anyone, and why we always do our duties in pairs, and why we don’t go out in the back alley at night. The amount of strange things that have happened here and the amount of people who’ve seen them is too large to be fake.”

[ ]

“And here’s the big one: No-one on the night shift has successfully kept a position here longer than a year, not even the Nurse Joy at the counter. They always step down after a while, citing illness or strange vibes or opportunities elsewhere. And if they don’t… bad things happen to them.”

IMO, there’s a lot going on in this paragraph of dialogue, especially since it’s treated as a continuation of the last one. It might make sense to try and hack this up into a couple paragraphs, especially ones showing off how Isadora is reacting to this information she’s being told.

Isadora: “I mean, I only need to be here for a couple months, so… that works out fine for me?”

During all that, I couldn’t help but uncomfortably fidget. That put a lot into perspective. Hauntings weren’t out of the question, of course, but usually ghost types doing the dirty deeds could easily be apprehended.

“Have you considered the possibility of a ghost-type haunting?” I asked. “Everything you’ve told me sounds like the work of a nasty gengar.”

Bold of you to assume this would be the work of a Ghost-type, Isadora.

“They’ve swept the place several times,” Belle said. “Usually after some trainer gets spooked and files a police report. Every time… take a wild guess?”

“Nothing?” I guessed.

“Nothing,” Belle said.

I mean, yeah. Let’s not forget that there are just straight-up ghosts in Pokéworld across all canonical branches. ^^;

I suddenly had a lot more to mull over. Belle seemed very convinced… but I wasn’t completely sold yet. Perhaps it was more the desperation at wanting this job more than anything, but even if it was true, I could bear a few ghostly pranks at night. How bad could it all be?

Aaaaaaand she’s doomed. I can already tell from the way she just tempted fate there.

As the sun slowly set over the box-shaped sprawl of Mistralton and the archways of the pokemon centre, I donned the folded paper hat that all pokemon centre staff wore, and walked out into the large staff’s quarters that lay just behind the impressive façade of the lobby.

The other workers had gathered as well. There was Primrose, a lilligant who did the housekeeping, as well as Dave, an inteleon who was a doctor. Arlone, a rotom, worked the centre computers and systems after night. Along with me and Bell, the two assistant nurses, the graveyard staff seemed to have assembled.

Oh, so we’ll also be seeing stories from (at least some of) them in the future, huh?

Then came Head.

Head, the Nurse Joy and manager, was a massive, stern blissey—she towered over me, and size-wise she’d give most humans a run for their money. A pink wig and a Nurse Joy hat sat atop her head, and a smudged, yellowing apron hung around her front. The harsh, deep-set expression on her face conveyed one thing and one thing only: business.

Wait, so the Nurse Joys in this setting aren’t human? I kinda missed that earlier on.

“Alright, we have a new recruit on the job!” she barked out, marching in front of us all out in a line. Halfway through, she stopped and stared imposingly at me. “Belle ran you through the specifics, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” I nodded. Belle, next to me, let out a deep, shaky breath. Head must scare her.

I mean, she’s already scaring me just in the span of four paragraphs, so…

“No need to use ma’am, it makes me feel old,” grunted Head. And then she moved on.

“I’ll be straight-up with ya,” she said, returning to her position at centre, paws clasped behind her back. “This ain’t your normal, run-of-the-mill centre job. We have a high turnover rate for a reason. Now, you all know the rules; you stick to them. Always carry a map. Always travel in pairs. Never open any door you haven’t seen before. Never touch any object you haven’t seen before. If you see something strange, if you hear something strange, ya didn’t. Giving it attention gives it power.”

[ ]

“No newcomer who wants a room after the sun has fallen gets one. No opening any windows or doors except in the lobby until the sun has risen. Only one door’s protected. And most importantly: Never turn the lights out. Kapeesh?”

I kinda wonder if there should be a moment in between Head’s list of rules where we get to see Isadora react and presumably start to

about what on earth is going on in this place, since this is quite a bit of dialogue to take all in one go.

She was looking straight at me there.

“Understood,” I said, nodding.

“Good,” said Head. “Alright, disperse, all of you! Arlone, schedules. Belle, with Isadora, you don’t need to shadow me anymore.”

Oh, so Belle is the second most-recent hire for the graveyard shift, huh?

The rotom nodded with a buzz, zipping off into a nearby computer screen and disappearing with a crackle and a ‘pop!’.

“We’ll be waiting around here in the break room until some patients are assigned to us,” said Belle. “But it should be quiet tonight, we only have a couple staying.”

And that was how night one began. There weren’t any ghosts, and truth be told I thought the staff here were just scaring themselves on urban legends and campfire stories. I had no doubts in my head that the next couple months were going to be a completely mundane affair; though if I was right, I could see why the ‘mon before me had all quit—this town really was a desolate, liminal, crumbling place. I could see anyone breaking after enough time spent between the airport runway, the few decrepit buildings, and the endless plains beyond.

‘A couple months’, I told myself, shaking off the feeling of unease stroking up and down my spine like icy fingers. ‘just a couple months’.

Yeah, I should get the

s ready for these guys, I can already tell.

Boy was that a creepy opening to this story. Like I remember when you were brainstorming this story, you wanted to go for some sort of eldritch “desolate Midwest town” vibe, and by and large you’ve succeeded quite well. Like all of the little details go a long way to give this lonely vibe where everyone’s just waiting for the shoe to drop in horrific fashion, especially with the implication that this is being narrated by Isodora sometime after the fact.

I have a couple complaints regarding a couple paragraphs being a bit too “big block of text” in style and a couple spots where I thought that some more description was called for, especially in service of getting inside Isodora’s head as the progressive sense that “something is wrong here” starts to sink in. I gave a couple suggestions to that end, which will hopefully be helpful if you’re still doing active work on this story. I also wonder if there should've been more acknowledgement of why Indeedee didn't look more into the background of this job she took, since if she's literate and knows how to use a search engine... yeah, she would've saved herself a lot of grief checking whatever analogue to Glassdoor exists in this world.

I’m admittedly not sure whether or not you’re still planning on continuing this story since it’s been in a bit of a lull based off the publishing dates, but it’s a neat concept and in general, it’s pulled off quite well, @SparklingEspeon . I’m not sure when you’ll come back to bump things further, but I do hope that you continue this story one day, since it reads like it’d be a good companion for a spookier night. ^^

 

[K_S]

Chapter 1
Blitz and catnip review

As a being built to be an emotional support mon i am surprised as heck that indeedee aren't swarming the mon medical scene. They'd be invaluable in being both an aide to the doctors and nurses as well as the patients.

I mean i get heal pulse is awesome but really.

Poor thing this is going to go bad. High turn over, no retention, and willing to take a stereotypical "bad fit" plus the city sounds like a doom and gloom zone. Like any horror movie watcher i am chanting at the indeedee to turn around... Go back...

Of course the indeedees suitcase is small. Even if there is a work uniform you wont need as much fabric. I may of missed this, but is this a female or male indeedee? I think thier dex entre and ability change based off if gender like the glameow evolution does?

You know i get the logic and concern but parents that pull the "i told you so card" like this always ruffle my feathrrs and get me rooting for the perspective character... I mean i get it... but no means no and they went to school for it to make this work...

Well while i suspect its the wrong sentiment considering the genre i at least support our protage indeedee in thier medical aspirations. (I mean worse case scenario if we get a nasty haunting that gets people hurt they know first aid across multiple spieces)

Yeah i'm with indeedee here. Forced cheer and a script is horridly goulish.

So how's pokesign different from say... ASL? Or is it universal for everyone and all spiecies that can't talk use it... (Except something without hands.. I imagine a scyther would have to tap things out in morse code...)

Ths nurse is failing mon 101. Indeedee are psychics with mood reading as a baseline... Shes gunna smell everyones fear and tough it out out of spite if i got a good grip on this character. It is an interesting layer to the horror though. As the p.o.v. knows going in on multiple levels that something is WRONG but can't pin down what. Even in the middle of a cheery day.

What makes unova so awesome (besides its morally ambigious plot/TEAM)?

Ah tact. Indeedee is as rare as a shiny for having it. They should add that to their resume.

Wonder if isadores family had all the indeedee kids named with "i" names.

Bell: allow me to shove my hoof in my mouth and keep talking and walking through the tour... Don't mind me i'll find my manners nine pages later... Or at 2am tonight... Whichever happens first.

Ok to be fair she catches in faster than that but still...

Wow thats ominous instructions. Tabbed in with a jittery guide. Maybe they should give out complimentry prayer slips for new hire uniforms (or a crucifix, holy water, stake and garlic set, pick your fave paraphinillia)...

Love how bell is all like "grim warning of doooom!" And isa's like "you dusted for ghastlys, right?"

Head: (looms like a pink armageddon)
Bel: freaks out
Isa: hi? Ma'am?
Head: (giving off mad maggie smith vibes) i'm not that old... (Rattles off long list of "do not do stupid horror movie stuff") We good? No. Great. No dying now. (Goes off to work)
Isa: okay then...

So i was initially going to do both chapters but chapter one is a table of contents? So i am guessing bug/2 will be along later (hopefully before oct next year?) Anyways, my quibble of it not being done nonwithstanding, thanks for sharing. It was fun.