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Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Mar 6 2012, 03:25 AM

Had Tuesday been aware of the storm that had been brewing within her team, she would not have anticipated it to come to head as it did. Had she known, as Odysseus knew and other suspected, that it was only a matter of time before the fury culminated, Tuesday would have expected it to do so in the presence of Jaima. She would not have anticipated that she be so far removed from her friends as she was, an unknown number of miles away from them, in fact. She would not have guessed that the rage which filled the heart of her first pokemon would reach its apex during a pokemon battle with a trainer she had never met before. Had she known, she didn't know what she would have done to prevent it.

But then, she didn't know.

"Laurel, use Take Down!"

"Smokescreen, Dante!"

The venusaur that was the third pokemon her opponent sent out charged forward with a grumbling roar. Dante hunkered down on his back legs, muscles tense, hissing as the smoke burst from his mouth like a gas bomb, filling the air with a dark cloud which obscured their view of each other.

Laurel's move must have missed its target, as there was no sound of an attack having connected. Only the grumbling of the large saurian beast and Dante's ominous hissing.

The field in which the two trainers were battling already contained evidence of their pokemon's harsh battles. Grass was torn up in area, great gouges had torn through the grass and soil, and whole areas had been trampled or burned clear of vegetation. A large dead stump off to the side had already been a point of attack for Tempest, Tuesday's hotheaded pikachu. The bark still coating the stubborn remains of the tree was crispy and brittle on the edges, and the center of the tree was blackened and scorched. The stantler, who had attempted to use the stump as a springboard of attack, had not fared well from the attack, either.

Tempest, of course, had been beaten nearly to unconsciousness by the small deer-like pokemon that the other trainer had used as her second. Tuesday had never encountered the pokemon's like before, but the adorable pink and yellow pokemon had clearly been a grass-type, or partial, like the venusaur before her now. Tuesday resisted the urge, with some difficulty, to fetch her sketchboard and draw the pokemon. It was a close thing. Her fingers were itching.

This third pokemon was proving to be difficult, however. Dante had laid waste to Horizon, as the girl had called her fawn pokemon, but was now faced against a pokemon of a greater evolutionary tier, and power. Of course, being a fire-type helped.

"Fire Fang!" Tuesday called.

She heard a snarl from within the smokescreen and caught a glimpse of a flash of fire. The gentle breeze which had been blowing was quickly causing the smoke to dissipate, and Tuesday caught a glimpse of her opponent on the other side of the field.

Straight brown hair was cut just at the girl's jawline, curling in at the ends. A single strand of hair, errant, with a slight curl to it to differ from the rest of her hair (as all errant strands must), hung down over one of the girl's large green eyes. Her lips were parted slightly as she watched the battle before her. Her hands clenched into worried fists as she attempted to command her pokemon in such a way as to bring the battle back into her favor.

"Earthquake!"

"Earthquake?" Tuesday gasped, just as the venusaur stomped great paws down on the ground and caused it to tremble beneath her. Tuesday let out an "oof!" as she lost her footing and toppled, with no small amount of embarrassment, onto her behind. She grimaced at the sore pain in her rear, but blue eyes flicked up to the battle before she bothered to get to her feet. The smoke still hung with stubborn futility in the air, brief wisps of dark cloud, but she could see the two pokemon fine. Dante had lost his balance from the attack and collapsed onto his front, legs and legs splayed outward. As he pushed himself to his feet, hissing dangerously, he did not look the least bit pleased.

In the moments after Dante had fallen, the venusaur had taken advantage of its opponent's lack of attacking and moved closer. Tuesday thought quickly of a way to give Dante a chance to get away from the pokemon. A fire attack would do more damage, of course, but even with the super-effective attack, the venusaur would have a chance to retaliate. a physical attack was more likely to make the larger pokemon flinch away, or at least attempt to dodge, giving the charmeleon a chance to put some distance between them.

"Dante! Metal Claw!"

The charmeleon put its weight on its right rear leg as it brought its left arm raking upward through the air, claws glowing. The metal claw attack caught the venusaur across the face, causing the pokemon to roar and pain and jerk backward on instinct.

"Get out of its range, Dante!" Tuesday called. She knew, of course, that the charmeleon wouldn't be able to get out of striking distance of a vine whip or razor leaf, but as least he could avoid being stepped on.

Instead of doing as she said and retreating to a safer distance, however, the charmeleon hissed loudly, a burning sound, like cold water hitting a hot skillet. Light flickered beyond the charmeleon's fangs, and then flames burst forward. The venusaur roar and reared back on its hind legs, eyes shut and face as turned away as such a large pokemon could manage.

"Laurel! Use Synthesis!" the brown-haired girl cried, fists clenched at her chin.

Tuesday hadn't even thought of what order, exactly, to give Dante before the charmeleon was attacking again. Fire burst forth from his mouth, causing the venusaur to retreat, its attempt at performing Synthesis a failure. Dante advanced on the pokemon, mouth opened in a continued hiss that was interrupted only by the flames that burst forth. Fire attack after fire attack, the charmeleon unleashed unrepentent fury upon its opponent, oblivious to the measures of his own cruelty and Tuesday's cries for him to stop.

Exhausted, with scorch marks scattered across her body like war scars, the venusaur collapsed to the ground with a great rumble and thump. Snarling, Dante's claws glowed on both hands, and he lunged with fire flickering in his mouth. The fainted venusaur was a defenseless victim to the charmeleon as his claws tore through blue-green flesh and his fangs, burning with flames, shredded the petals on the unconscious pokemon's back with great bites and vicious twists of his head, as though the venusaur were not another living creature, but a dog toy, to be chewed to pieces for amusement, if nothing else.

"Dante! Dante, stop!" Tuesday cried, horrified. Her attempts at recalling the charmeleon were a failure when he dodged the red beam of the pokeball, only to unleash a flamethrower attack upon his felled opponent.

"Laurel!" the other girl cried, tears filling her eyes but unfallen, as she desperately searched in her bag for her pokeball.

"Dante!"

The charmeleon ignored her again and, horrified at what she was witnessing her first pokemon do to another, Tuesday grabbed another pokeball from her belt and tossed it outward. The words she thought she would never say - words that fought tooth and nail to be substituted with vomit at the very thought of them - tore from her throat before the pokeball had even fully unleashed its charge.

"Odysseus! Take Dante down! Water Gun!"

Posted by: Master Houndoom Mar 9 2012, 12:33 AM

Meiko's eyes were shining in the high afternoon sun. The faintest of blushes painted her cheeks, giving her usually light skin tone a hint of a healthy glow. Water had just begun to pool against her lower eyelids and lashes, yet her mouth was stretched in a wide smile, one that refused to go away even as one of the newly formed tears spilled over.

Her left hand clung to Jaima's right, and though it seemed he was not as weepingly happy as her, he, too, smiled, fondly, and rubbed the back of her hand. He watched her face with great interest, but did not speak to distract her.

The man at the front of what seemed to be a gathering intoned, with a reverent voice, "We gather together to witness the joining together of this young woman and this young man..."

Jaima leaned closer to her, speaking softly, so as not to interrupt. "You all right?"

"I always cry at weddings," Meiko admittedly, ducking her head self consciously. Jaima chuckled softly.

"You'd think," he said, his eyes on hers, "that this one would be different." He turned to face the reverend, but spoke, still softly, to Meiko. "After all, we barely know these people..."

"Do you, Barry, take this woman, Hally, to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I know," Meiko moaned softly. "It just gets to me..!"

They had been walking for hours, taking rests when needed, but mostly just walking. By now they were well seasoned travelers, used to long travel by foot, Meiko more so than Jaima.

After the chaos that had been Pokecon at Starfall Field, it had been nice to spend quality time, just the two of them. It took the sting away from having just missed Darryn at the end of the con, the deeper, more subtle hurt of Tuesday being gone from their group, and, as a bonus, it served to strengthen their relationship. As they set up their separate tents on the first night alone, however, they decided not to talk about the donphan in the camp.

It distracted them from the hormonal tension that had made itself known between them, after all.

When one is wary of spending time with one's significant other, and yet are alone with them in the woods, there are only two recourses: To give into temptation, which neither of them were entirely sure they wanted in the first place, or to go to bed early.

As soon as the sun dropped past the horizon, the pair were in bed. It was a near super-human effort to separate, even with their individual doubts. As a result of going to bed early, they were also up early. Jaima was dressed for training, and Meiko had decided to take a run, Chompwater out to accompany her.

Both lingered with each other before moving to do their respective activites... and then "before" became instead of, and they took steps toward each other, unsure of what might happen but beginning to no longer care...

When a scream rent the air, followed by a man's shout.

The pair blinked and moved toward the road that was near their camp site. Passing at a rather high rate of speed were two rapidash, one a magestic cream color with orange flames, the other with a mane that seemed to be of smoke and ash caught in a flame-like aura about its head and body. They harnessed to a carriage, running at full speed and, it seemed, trying to bump each other off of the trail. The yoke between them kept them more or less separate even as it bound them together, and the weight of the carriage kept them from running as fast as they might were they not strapped to it.

From the seat of the carriage emerged a woman in a white dress, dazed, it seemed, and just beginning to grasp her predicament. Unfortunately, before she could attempt to get control, one of the heavy wooden wheels hit a rock, sending her tumbling back again.

In the distance, back too far from the carriage to be any good, a man was running toward it, holding one arm with the other.

Jaima looked at Meiko. Meiko looked at Jaima.

With a delicate snort and a grin, Meiko pulled two pokeballs from her belt and called forth the pokémon inside, revealing Desertdancer and Cosette. Chompwater waddled up next to her. Jaima closed his eyes, and, a gratifying second later, Mercury and Tsunami appeared.

"The water types should be a last resort. We don't want to hurt anyone," Meiko said, moving already down the road, looking far ahead to gauge the situation. The carriage was getting close, and the two pokémon pulling it seemed to be picking up speed despite the weight of it.

"Right," Jaima said. "Mercury, can you calm those two down?" He pointed to the rapidash. Mercury stared toward them, but shook her head.

Whatever it is, it's between them, and deeply rooted. They aren't even in a state to listen...

"Desertdancer," Meiko called, "I need a berm right here!" She pointed across the road, and Desertdancer immediately dove into the ground, pushing dirt up from below to create a large mound across the road.

The carriage pulled up even with Jaima and passed him. Shadow set off running after it, his eyes wide. It didn't take Jaima long to realize what the problem might be.

The pair of rapidash jumped as soon as they noticed the barrier, clearing the berm. The yoke between them snapped in the middle and fell off of them. The normally colored rapidash stumbled, but the gey-maned one surged ahead, giving a shrill whinny of triumph.

With it's source of movement gone, the carriage continued forward, more or less still on the ground. It plowed into the dirt pile, but pitched forward, sending the woman, who had just gotten her footing again, over the railing and into the air, screaming.

The woman described an arc in mid air and began to fall, only to slow drastically at the zenith. Her scream slowly trailed off as she realized she was not falling fast enough to get hurt. Only when she was down on the ground did she notice the blue-crested kirlia with a distortion between the red horns on her head, and light blue glowing eyes.

The orange-flamed rapidash, however, seemed to blame her and her alone for the other rapidash leaving it behind, and rose on its hind legs. It drove it's front feet down, trying to Stomp the woman.

There was a clanking sound rather than the mushy sound of pokemurder. Shadow had managed to interpose himself between the woman and the equine pokémon, taking the attack on his crossed arms and fairly glaring at the beast, as if to dare it to try again.

The man, however, had caught up. Even with one injured arm, his rage seemed to lend him strength. He grabbed the rapidash' reins and yanked, hard enough to pull the large pokémon off balance and facing him. "Blueblood! What's gotten into you? No, never mind! Return!" With an outraged whinny, Blueblood the rapidash was sucked into the mechanism of a pokeball. The man turned to the woman, seemingly ignoring the nearby pokémon and their trainer.

"Are you all right, Hally?"

The woman, amazingly, blushed and brushed imaginary dirt off of her very real, if torn, dress. "Of course, just a few bumps... Barry, your arm!"

The man looked down, and seemed to stare at his arm, which was swelling at the wrist. He swept dark hair away from his eyes and sighed. "It's nothing, I must have hurt it when I fell out of the carriage..." He sighed again. "You were right. We shouldn't have had tried to get Blueblood and Rarity to pull the carriage. They can't stand each other..."

"It was a good try, Barry, but let's-- Oh!" Hally had turned to try to find something with which to bind Barry's arm and spotted Jaima. He, however, had in turn seemed to have forgotten them, his eyes on something else.

That something else was the red headed companion he traveled with, who was, currently, riding the shiny rapidash back to the others. Jaima's eyes were wide.

"You never said you could ride like that!"

Meiko grinned, hopping down from the now docile rapidash, patting her flank. "Like what?" She asked, coyly.

"Meiko, that... this... you could have been bucked off! She was practically a flying, trying to Bounce you off of her back!"

Meiko busied herself with the rapidash mare, then grinned over her shoulder. "What can I say, I'm good with pokémon..."

"My girlfriend is awesome..."

After introductions had been made, the older couple explained that they had been trying to get their two rapidash, Rarity, Hally's shiny mare, and Blueblood, Barry's normal stallion, to pull a carriage which would be their entrance to the wedding. However, the two fire ponies had been rivals almost since the day they'd hatched, and being hitched together seemed to be more than they could stand. It had begin with flank bumps and rapidly degenerated into a race that neither could win. In the process, Barry had been thrown from the carriage, and Hally had been too stunned, both from being jostled and from losing sight of Barry, to come to her senses. By the time she'd thought to recall Rarity, she'd been afraid it would cause more damage to recall one rapidash than it would fix.

Both had been impressed with the way the teens had come to the rescue (and with Meiko's skill at calming the temperamental and vain Rarity), and it hadn't taken long for the older couple to invite the younger to the wedding. And so they sat, in the best clothing they could produce from their backpacks (surprisingly easy, as both had at least understood that there might be times when they'd need to look presentable, and also because Meiko let Jaima have his silk gi top from the contest back. For the time being), holding hands, and, in general, enjoying the marriage of two people they hadn't even met before that day.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Mar 9 2012, 01:37 PM

There wasn't a clock in the room.

Tuesday was lying on her back, her right arm folded behind her head. Her blue eyes were open and staring at the ceiling, but they had none of the clouds of wandering thought that often plagued them. To her distress, her mind was quite focused tonight - firmly and without yielding upon the events that occurred during her pokemon battle earlier that day. Or was it yesterday by now? She hadn't a clock to tell her, nor a mind that cared.

"Odysseus! Take Dante down! Water Gun!"

It didn't take Odysseus more than a second to gather what was happening. His eyes flickered across the scene before him, sharp and intelligent, but also regretful.

He bared his teeth, his throat clicking in an honorable warning that Dante didn't deserve, as his mouth filled with water.

The charmeleon turned just in time to receive the water gun attack straight to the chest.

There was a hiss, as the cold water met Dante's heated skin, and the charmeleon was blasted back by the force of the attack.

Dante gathered his feet quickly, tail whipping behind him as he faced Odysseus, stretched out with his weight balanced on all four of his limbs. His mouth opened in a wide hiss and he lunged forward in a move to attack, fast as lightning.

The second water attack hit him in the left shoulder, shattered his equilibrium and sending him staggering to regain it. The charmeleon lunged haphazardly at Odysseus, claws glowing, slashing forward.

Odysseus leapt away, his larger body not allowing him the twisting, leaping movement he had once utilized so readily, but he had spent the time of Tuesday's mission training himself to use this new form, and he was becoming quite accustomed to it. Dante's Metal Claw missed its target, and Odysseus slammed hard into the charmeleon from the side, sending the fire lizard crashing to the ground, embarrassed and furious at his failed attempt at defending himself.

"Calm yerself, lad. If ye were any more tempestuous, me galley'd be sunk at sea."

Dante didn't see fit to grace Odysseus' colorful metaphor with a verbal response. The wordless hiss was accompanied by a charge, teeth bared and claws slashing.

Odysseus easily side-stepped the attack born of fury, only to have Dante spin on his feet as he had once been trained to do, cracking Odysseus across the face with his hefty tail and knocking the otter backward.

Odysseus reclaimed his feet quickly, using a quick attack to avoid a slash attack to the face. He fell down into a defensive position to watch for Dante's next move.

"Come on, now, lad, this is as foolish as a rowboat durin' a hurricane. Ye cannae win against me an' yer scarin' the lass."

"SHUT UP!"

Dante let loose a wild fire attack. A flamethrower, a move Tuesday had not had him yet use for the power of it. It lashed outward like an element possessed, furious and out of control.

There was a sudden yelp, a very human cry, as Tuesday ducked down and attempted to cover her face. The flamethrower, Dante not caring at all where he aimed so long as he struck Odysseus, whiplashed toward her with reckless abandon.

Odysseus' water gun cut the flamethrower in half and sent the charmeleon reeling backward, shivering and soaked, but they couldn't stop the flames so far from Dante's reach and control.

There was the sharp sound of a mechanism activating, and a flash of red light that clashed with the fire cutting the air, and Tuesday was pushed to the ground with a heavy bark. The blue and black fur of the appearing pokemon was gleefully enveloped in the flames, and Zorro let out a loud yelp of pain.

Tuesday felt herself shivering lightly, a cold chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room settling over her slightly-sweaty skin. The sound of Zorro's loud yelp had cut her to the very core of her being, and seemed to resonate still in her mind. She swallowed thickly beyond the lump in her throat and considered getting up to go check on him, but she knew there would be no difference. Nurse Joy had sedated the riolu to allow for the medication she'd given him for his burns to better heal him without his moving around from the pain. He was the only one of Tuesday's pokemon not in the room with her.

Tuesday turned her head toward the window. The gleam of the moon outside was enough for her to see the silhouette of Odysseus by. The floatzel leaned against the frame, dozing, but in such a position as to react should there be a need.

Tempest, healed from her battle, was curled up by the right side of Tuesday's head, and she turned her face that way to allow the pikachu's fur to brush against it. She felt more than saw the rodent's ears twitch, and a moment later, a small, cold nose nuzzled against her forehead comfortingly.

Eowyn, the albino eevee that she had just recently recovered from Professor Oak, was currently curled up against Tuesday's left hip. It was she who had been using Tuesday's left hand for the entire night so far. Her fingers dug lightly into the thick, soft fur of the eevee's back, causing the pokemon to shift lightly in pleasure and let off a sound remniscient of a purr. The other two pokemon in Tuesday's possession - Dante, and the one that she had just recently caught for her mission - were both still in their pokeballs.

Earlier in the evening, Tuesday had let Dante out in order to eat, but she had done so while in the bedroom by herself. The rest of her pokemon, including Eowyn, even though she had not battled and was certainly not injured, were being looked over by Nurse Joy. Tuesday knew it was foolish, considering he had just recently attacked her, but she would let none of her pokemon come to harm from him.

She had called the charmeleon out and set a bowl of food in front of him. There had been no words spoken and, while Dante did not look at her with the ferocity that she had seen during the battle with the venusaur or the one with Odysseus, he did not make a move to act apologetic, either.

He ate, though slowly and with some apparent reluctance, and afterward, Tuesday recalled him. She would keep him in his pokeball, she determined, but she would not starve him.

She would not become her sister.

Once all of her pokemon but poor Zorro had been returned to her, Tuesday had given Nurse Joy Dante's pokeball, with a quiet suggestion to heal him without removing him from the pokeball. Nurse JOy hadn't asked, and Tuesday wondered if, perhaps, she had put the facts together from the injuries that had been sustained. And perhaps, Tuesday thought later when she was taking a shower and changing for bed, from the fact that her hair was darkened with soot, and the back of her shirt was singed black.

Dante's pokeball was currently locked in the bedside cabinet drawer. It was an empty comfort, since it would not hold him if he truly wanted loose, but it did make her feel better. The newest addition to Tuesday's team had been caught in a regular pokeball, like most of her other pokemon, due to the fact that the same type of pokeball had been used to capture the pokemon in Professor Oak's possession that was of the opposite gender.

Tuesday had briefly let this pokemon out, but the shift from being in the wild to being in an area filled with strange, domesticated pokemon and humans had frightened the little pokemon, so Tuesday had allowed him to remain hidden away in his pokeball. Once they were back on the road, Tuesday planned on beginning Spectre's training.

Rubbing her hand down Eowyn's sleek body and taking comfort from the purring that rumbled against her ribs, Tuesday thought about Venessa, the trainer she had been battled, and the venusaur that had still been with Nurse Joy when Tuesday had last spoken to her. She didn't know what to do... what would she do if Dante had seriously injured the venusaur? What if the pokemon never recovered in some way? What if the poor grass-type died from the force of the attacks both both before and after she was unconscious?

Briefly, Tuesday considered writing a letter to Jaima to ask for advice, but it was a very brief thought. She didn't know if he and Meiko were back from PokeCon, yet, and even if they were, she didn't want to interrupt them. She could talk to Jaima about it later, when they were reunited. She was sure that he and Meiko were enjoying spending the time together with just the two of them, no other disctractions.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Mar 14 2012, 12:21 AM

"Man... I sure wish there was a distraction available," spoke a voice.

"Mm... Yeah, it's too bad that donphan left," said the other.

They sat at the campfire, almost across it from one another. Jaima was busying himself in checking Grondir's leaves and petals, once in a while looking up to see where his other pokémon were. His eyes, when not flitting toward Meiko, were instead attracted to Tsunami. Mostly because she had recently undergone a great change.

"So, how about it, son? A friendly match!"

Jaima's brows went up, nearly to his hairline, and he was vaguely conscious of Meiko looking up at him, eager and excited to see a battle. The man must have noticed, as he grinned. "I'll tell you what, a two on one, you and your lady friend, any pokémon of your choice, against two of mine in a doubles battle. How does that sound?"

According to Meiko's little squeal of excitement, it sounded just fine to her. Jaima shrugged, unable to hide the fond smile beginning to form on his lips. "You've got a battle. But, um," he looked around at the on-going reception, Hally and Barry greeting their guests with the widest of smiles on each of their faces, "are you sure it will be all right?"

The man smiled, his large, corpulent face complementing his large, corpulent body. "Son," he said, which Jaima found a little bit jarring since he definitely wasn't this man's son, "I paid for this shin dig, and when I paid for this shin dig, I included a little arena right over there." He pointed, and Jaima and Meiko obligingly looked, where there was indeed a little arena. Meiko's head whipped back around, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "No one is using that little arena, and I'd like to get my money's worth."

"So, no then," Jaima said, grinning. The man smiled back with a wink and a nod.

They made their way through the crowd, Meiko fumbling in her purse to bring out a specific pokéball, Jaima feeling along his belt (which he had pulled out of retirement, since a bandolier across his chest seemed tacky with his formal clothing) hidden under his shirt for the position of the pokémon he wanted to take out.

"Now, you two don't worry, with the arena came a Nurse Joy," the man called, pointing to the youngest Nurse Joy either teen had ever seen, who had to be younger even than the Joy they had befriended in Arasam or Lenoilia, depending on to whom you were speaking. "Since I made the challenge, I'll go ahead and call mine out first. Tesla, Richter, let's have a little fun!" The man had no real sense of fanfare, simply pointing the pokéballs in his hand into the ring and opening them. The pokémon he released, a tall ampharos and a slightly more squat golem, stood side by side, the ampharos shaking its head rapidly, and the golem stomping it's large foot like a sumo wrestler.

Meiko grinned. "I call Chompwater to the field," she cried, tossing her pokéball in the air. The white light released her feraligatr, towering over her before allowing herself to fall forward, in a crouched position, almost on all fours and looking something like a football player (from the Americas, anyway).

Jaima popped his neck. "I choose Tsunami," he said, more sedately than Meiko's crowing call. He, too, however, tossed the decorated pokéball in the air, allowing the appearance of a smaller amphibious looking pokémon. The white light, however, didn't fade when the ball, having discharged its contents, fell back into Jaima's hand. Instead, the light seemed to increase, and grow, and when it finally faded, the marshtomp Jaima had expected had evolved into a swampert.

There were a few moments of stunned silence, even from those having gathered to watch, then, with a laugh, the larger man recalled his own pokémon. "Son, with an opening like that, I think I'd better forfeit!"

She was much larger now, easily twice the size she had been, and her body had changed significantly. Her head was now a bit flatter and wider, her body longer, and her anterior flippers larger and thicker. Her fins, both on her head, where a single one had split into two and curved over her skull, and the tail, which had grown into almost a fan, had become much larger. All in all, she seemed sturdier, more formidable. Jaima almost couldn't wait for a chance to test her abilities.

Shadow was against a tree, seemingly dozing, but Jaima knew that, should any danger arise, he would be awake and alert in the blink of an eye. He wouldn't have been surprised if Shadow had chosen that particular spot for its tactical position; though Jaima had no eye for it himself, he knew Shadow was aware of things he wasn't.

Mercury was near Shadow, something that had been a common occurrence since she had been captured. Unlike Shadow, her position had little to do with her ability to respond to a threat, but she seemed to stick with him more often than not. Jaima liked this about the pair.

Fang was laying near the fire, his head up, looking for all the world like the statues in ancient Egypt. He watched the camp in an obvious way, but Jaima was sure that he, like Shadow, would be a blur of frenzied terror should they get attacked. Jaima marveled at the changes that his evolutions had brought, from nearly hyper kitten, to swaggering adolescent, and, finally, something almost regal. He was the Prince of all luxray once again.

Ember was next to him, curled up, asleep, and that made him feel as safe as having the others as watchful as they were. For the longest time, Ember was so Timid that she would jump at the slightest sound. She had evolved once, and that took a lot of the reflex away, but she was still wary. If she felt safe enough to sleep, there was nothing going on that they could prevent.

So, basically... you're perfectly safe with everything except where your girlfriend is concerned, he thought.

Was it always going to come back to this? Was he always going to doubt where he stood? At DeBrody's in Petropolis, they always had to look at themselves, or at least he had to look at himself, and say, "Kuonji, you're being stupid".

He looked over. Purposely, he looked over. She was looking at the fire, her face blank, her eyes wistful. Her hat, which he knew she adored, was resting on one knee. Both of her knees were pulled up to her chest. Her hair was messy, her clothing wrinkled, as they had changed as soon as they'd gotten home from the party, and she looked a little drawn. The makeup she had worn had been washed off, leaving her face looking a bit drawn and pale.

He was captivated by her beauty.

Slowly, he took similar stock of her pokémon. In her lap, in the same way he had been taking care of Grondir, her newest pokémon, Blazeclaw, sat, getting his bright yellow feathers groomed. At her shoulder was her other new pokémon, Nightwish. Chompwater lay nearby, at her back, her eyes closed, but, like Shadow, Mercury, and Fang, if Meiko came to danger, Jaima knew that the feraligatr would strike faster than a hungry seviper after a furret. Desertdancer and Eggheart were playing on the farthest side of the fire, nearest Fang, which earned them a haughty look from the luxray, but not a glaring one, Jaima noticed. Cosette was laying down next to Meiko, but looking toward Grondir, with a similar look as Meiko's: Tired, wistful, and, possibly, ready to move to some place she'd rather be.

Jaima allowed Grondir to roam, and noted that he walked to Cosette. And that is what made his decision for him.

Little did Jaima know, but Meiko was having the same thoughts, as well as an odd conversation.

Aww I am saying is that you have been attacked using this vectow twice now, and because you wecovew quickwy, it's probabwy because you awe weaving it open on puwpose.

Meiko was a little too tired to put up much of an argument. There had been dancing, and several battles, which she had participated in. Why Nightwish had taken this time to bring up this subject, she had no idea.

Because when youw tiwed, you wisten mowe.

Meiko blushed, a little. I wish you wouldn't do that. She sighed. Why would I leave something open like that?

Nightwish seemed distracted, spending so long thinking that Meiko had thought she had made the gothita angry. Finally, and in a bit of a rush, she spoke. Weww, obviouswy you didn't know that you had that open. And you'we not a psychic, so you woudn't know how to cwose it if you did.

Meiko pondered for a moment, when a stray thought distracted her. You never really talked to me before. And when you did, you sounded like a baby..! Why the change?

This time the reason for the hesitation was evident. Waves of embarrassment, and something else Meiko couldn't quite discern (the embarrassment, in fact, had been so strong that Meiko herself was blushing again). Wook, I didn't know you vewy weww, and I have had a wot of bad expewiences wiff twainews who... awen't vewy nice. So I faked it. But that's not the point! The point is, you can do one vewy simpwe thing to cwose that gap in youw natuwa defences.

Meiko nodded, looking at the gothita and, hoping, that she was sending the right signals that she was listening. Finally, the little pokémon "spoke" again. Stop compawing that one ovew thewe to whoever the warge, dawk headed jewk in youw memowies is.

Meiko flushed for the third time, but this time there was definite anger along with the embarrassment. You had no right to go prying in my mind like th--

Surprisingly, the rage had little effect on the gothita, only making her mental voice a little gentler. Cawm down, cawm down. I onwy saw what was being attacked whiwe I was bwocking the attack. Meiko did calm down, even feeling sheepish. Nightwish decided to address that, too. And nevew be afwaid to stand up fow you wights. No one has the wight to go into you mind wike that unwess you teww them. No one. Just wike no one can huwt you wike you afwaid you boyfwiend wiww.

Jaima would never hurt me..!

Pfft. He'd be fewawigatw food if he twied, now. But don't teww me, teww him.

Meiko felt the presence in her mind fade, and looked over. Jaima was just sitting next to her, and she looked down. "Um... hi."

"Mental conversation?"

She looked up, wide eyed, while Nightwish flashed an evil look at Mercury. Mercury didn't see it, else she might have shivered.

Jaima, however, smiled. "You have a look like you're concentrating on something, and Nightwish is right there. I just assumed."

"Good assumption," she said, relaxing. She nearly tensed up when he reached for her again, then allowed herself to relax more fully, leaning against him as he put his arm around her shoulder. "We're being idiots, aren't we?"

Jaima chuckled. "Little bit." He looked into the fire a bit, then sighed. "I know, in my head, we're not ready. And I know, in my... um... body... that I want to be... But I had a good day with..." He chuckled, muttering something about 'cheesy', before he continued. "I had a good day with the girl I love, and I think, maybe, we can handle this. And if we can't, well... I think maybe we worry too much."

Meiko sighed, allowing herself to press closer to Jaima. Stop comparing him, Nightwish had told her...

"Jaima... I have something I want to tell you... it's... it's about my boyfriend... before you, I mean. Ex." She suddenly couldn't look at him. The fire seemed so interesting at this moment. "I think... I think I've been comparing you to him..."

Jaima looked down at her, curious. She thought she caught a glimpse of jealousy, but that might have been wishful thinking.

She thinks he might be jeawous. Is he?

Um... a little bit... thank you for asking... you can read surface emotions without my permission, you know.

You might not have wiked that, and I didn't want to deaw wiff you pissing and moaning"

There was silence, stunned and a bit disapproving, but no response was made.

Finally, Jaima spoke. "Ew."

Meiko giggled abruptly, then sobered. "I know it isn't fair. I... I still think I'm silly for letting it get to me like that. It's just... I thought I saw him in Petropolis."

Jaima's mouth dried. His expression must have conveyed at least a little of his shock, as Meiko, now looking at him, was quick to try reassuring, both him and herself. "Well, it's ridiculous, isn't it? For him to show up right where we were, without anyone telling him?

Jaima was hesitant to speak, but he managed it. "You found me..."

Oddly, Meiko relaxed. "See, that's my point. Your mom gave me your pokegear frequency, and mailed me the new one when you told her it had been changed. I had help. My mom and dad... Well, I don't think they'd help Toshiro."

She leaned back, and Jaime felt her hands shaking. He reached around her, taking hold of her hands while wrapping his arms around her.

"Sometimes I worry that I'm ruined..."

"Nonsense," Jaima whispered. "You're still you. You don't treat anyone really different-"

"I slapped that French guy in the forest for coming on to me," she admitted.

Jaima coughed. "Well... Would you have slapped him, um... Before?"

"If Toshiro wasn't here, I'd have told him I had a boyfriend, then told him I wasn't interested, then slapped him. But Jaima, he grabbed my arm and I practically ripped his face off!"

"What was he grabbing your arm for?" Jaima asked, a hint off danger in his voice.

Meiko cleared her throat. "Probably just to turn me around to face him. Boy, did I turn around and face him..."

Jaima sighed, pulling her closer. "I'm not trying to say you weren't effected, but you don't let it rule you. And, look. Here I am, holding you close, and I haven't been slapped yet."

Meiko giggled again. Jaima leaned over and kissed her cheek, only to be thwarted in the effort to be subtle by Meiko turning her head and kissing him deeply.

When they pulled apart, Jaima kissed her forehead. "You're fine. You'll be fine. And for the heavier stuff... When we're both ready, it won't be something we need to second guess, ok?"

Meiko smiled, closing her eyes at a second kiss on her forehead. "OK."

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Mar 14 2012, 01:17 AM

When Tuesday woke up the following morning, the lack of warmth beneath her legs had her looking around her room for Ashleigh until the sleep cleared enough from her mind to remind her that the houndoom was currently in Pallet Town, helping Professor Oak.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, the young girl stretched her arms above her head and then rubbed her eyes, trying to clear out the gritty sands that had gathered there. She sighed when she felt momentarily clean enough, her mind immediately running a list of all that she needed to do today. Exactly how much on that list she accomplished would depend on the results of some of those at the top.

Tuesday glanced around, taking stock of her pokemon.

The bedside table was intact and unburnt, so it was safe to say that Dante remained in his pokeball within the top drawer. Tuesday grimaced. That was third on her list of things to deal with, if you ignored the necessities of getting dressed and eating breakfast.

Eowyn had woken when Tuessday sat up and stretched vigorously, before losing her battle with exhaustion and falling back asleep, sprawled out over half of the bed. Tuesday smiled and ran a hand smoothly down the eevee's pure white fur. She did not awaken, but Tuesday was pleased to feel the gentle rumble at her fingertips and hear the purr begin.

Odysseus had remained by the window, but Tuesday could see that he was awake. He lounged casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and something that resembled a smirk on his face. Tuesday gave him a curious look, but whatever had so amused him, the otter was keeping it to himself.

"Ka!"

Tuesday turned around, stretching her left arm up over her head again, to find Tempest had left the bed and was sitting impatiently in front of the door. The pikachu stared at Tuesday, before giving the door an annoyed look, and turning back to Tuesday.

"You hungry, Tempest?"

"Kaaa," the pikachu groaned, and stamped her foot before looking back at the door.

Tuesday blinked for a second, thinking that perhaps she wasn't awake enough to make an attempt to understand her pokemon, before it dawned on her. She smiled. "I need to get dressed first. Then we'll go see if Nurse Joy is finished with Zorro."

Tempest's ears flicked into a few different positions, as though she was attempting to decide precisely how she should react to that. The sharp bark from by the window probably didn't help her indecision, but finally the pikachu seemed to decide that ignoring the floatzel was for the best and folded her own arms over her chest and turned her head away.

Tuesday reached under her bed and grabbed her pack, opening it up to find a change of clothes. Yet another item on the list for today was to go to the store and find some new outfits. She had thrown away the shirt that had been burnt the day before and some of her clothing had been lost in their travels. Her back, however much she liked it, was also old, worn, and slightly too small for all that she needed to carry. She was tempted to give it to Zorro, though, as the riolu had a habit of picking up outfits of his own from wherever he managed (she did not want to know - plausible deniability and all that), which he stuffed into her bag. She often opened her back to place her sketchbook back inside, only to find it packed full of new things that the riolu could grab in a pinch when a new situation called for a demonstration of his ability to improvise.

Slipping out of her pajamas, Tuesday pulled on a new set of clothes (a pair of brown courderoys and a black T-shirt). She was pulling on her sneakers over a pair of socks when there was a knock on her door. Shoelaces held in her hands, Tuesday glanced up in surprise, wondering who in the world would be knocking...

A knock came again.

Not a dream, then.

Tying her shoes quickly, Tuesday rushed over to the door as a third knock came and opened it, just as the person who had been knocking had turned to leave. "Sorry," she said quickly, "I was getting dressed. Oh." The girl had turned back toward her and the soft face was telling. "Vanessa. Good morning."

The brunette smiled shyly. "Good morning, Tuesday. I thought you'd want to know, I got Laurel back this morning."

"Oh... how is she?" Tuesday asked, pushing the door further open so she and Vanessa could talk unhindered. She folded her arms over her chest and tried very hard not to look as panicky as she felt.

Vanessa smiled. "Don't worry, she's fine." Vanessa revealed the pokeball she had held in her hand and clicked the button, releasing the venusaur inside. "Nurse Joy was able to heal her without a problem."

Tuesday studied the large pokemon in front of her. The eyes of the venusaur were steadily focused upon her, but the saurian monster did not appear frightened or angry, and Tuesday didn't see any scars or burns left on the pokemon's flesh. She felt her shoulders relax minutely and looked back at Vanessa.

"I would tell you that you worry too much, but I don't know you that well."

Tuesday couldn't help but smile. "If you knew me better, you'd say thesame." She glanced at Laurel briefly. "You're sure-"

"She's fine. I'm sure. Thank you, though, for being concerned."

"I am sorry. I never should have left Dante do something like that."

"You didn't know." Vanessa glanced behind Tuesday, into the room. She turned around to see what the girl was looking at to find Odysseus watching them. "The fact that you sent one of your own pokemon against him made that very clear. Fire-type pokemon can be hard to handle. That's one of the reasons I don't have any. It takes a strong trainer to handle a pokemon that can be so wild. Did he evolve recently?"

"Not too recently, but it wasn't long ago. I think this has been building for some time, anyway." Tuesday had been thinking during the night of the times before in which Dante had seemed to lose control of his fire or his temper, and she had begun to wonder if these moments hadn't been accidents at all.

"I have a friend who raises fire-types," Vanessa was saying, and Tuesday turned her wandering mind back to the girl. "Evolution can cause some major adjustments in personality and temper. I don't know how many times I've gone to see him and find that he has a bunch of new burn scars. He says it can be hard to raise fire-types, but it's definitely worth it. You seem to really care about your pokemon, so I'm sure you'll be able to manage it. At least you know now that there's a problem."

"Yeah." Tuesday grinned at the other girl. "Thanks, Vanessa."

"No problem, and thank you for the battle." She held out her hand. "You won, by the way."

"I recall that. I believe we had a bet on."

"We did." Vanessa held her arm out invitingly. "Shall I treat you to breakfast?"

Breakfast at the pokemon center was free to those who stayed there, so it cost Vanessa nothing to treat Tuesday, and that was fine for both of them. The two spent the morning hour talking over waffles on Vanessa's end and a bowl of oatmeal on Tuesday's. Their discussion ranged from the pokemon in their party to what they planned to do in the years to come. Vanessa admitted she was not interested in battling as much as most people she had grown up with, but had a talent raising pokemon, which was obvious in the fact that most of her current party were fully evolved. Her dream was to own a large plot of land where she could breed grass-type pokemon.

Tuesday told her about her plans to become a pokemon researcher, and that she had just recently completed her first field assignment. This exciting news evolved into a discussion about the breeds of pokemon that they favored and their opinions of the new pokemon that had recently been discovered, of which Vanessa knew quite a bit more about than Tuesday.

When the two finished their breakfast - which had grown cold during their conversation - they parted ways. Tuesday still had things to do at the pokemon center before she could leave and Vanessa had plans to meet with her friend who raised fire-types. The two of them traded contact information and promised to stay in contact over time and meet for breakfast or lunch if they ever found themselves in the same town.

Alone once again, Tuesday made her way to the counter. Nurse Joy spotted her and smiled, motioning for her to come behind the counter. Tuesday, curious and slightly worried about why she was being called back into an area usually prohibited for trainers to enter, followed the nurse.

Instead of going back into the working part of the hospital as Tuesday had expected, the nurse led her into a side room that seemed to be something like a private waiting room. Zorro was there, sitting in a chair, holding his pokeball in his paws and watching as another nurse gently rubbed an orange-tinted cream onto his arm. The riolu looked up when Tuesday stepped through the door and grinned, letting out an excited bark. His feet shifted like he was trying to get up, but the nurse touched his arm and he settled.

"Burns on a pokemon are easily healed," the nurse said, looking at Tuesday as her colleague finished putting the salve on Zorro's arm and began to wrap it with gauze. "The problem comes when you're dealing with a pokemon that has fur and the fur is burned off. Without the protection the fur usually offers, the skin and pores can become damaged. This salve will help protect his skin and speed up the growth of his hair. Once his fur has grown back sufficiently, this won't be necessary, and it is mostly a precaution, but one that I recommend.

"I have a pamphlet I can give you about the proper way to apply a salve."

"I have a friend who creates pokemon salves and creams," Tuesday said, thinking fondly of Darryn. "He taught me how." And while the application of the cream on Ashleigh's headcrest had been different, Tuesday had cared for pokemon in her time working in Professor Oak's lab.

"Very good. Then, if you're done," she said, looking at her colleague, Zorro is ready to leave.

The riolu hopped off of the chair and ran over to Tuesday, who wrapped him tightly in a hug. "Thank you."



"You're sure about this, Tuesday?"

"Yes. I think it's best, for both of us." Tuesday sat in front of the video screen, watching as Professor Oak glanced down and wrote something on a notebook he had in front of him. Tuesday knew he was adding Dante to the list of Tuesday's captured pokemon that were presently in Professor Oak's care.

"How long do you want me to keep him?"

Tuesday glanced down at her hands, which were folded together so tightly her fingers were white with bloodloss. "I haven't decided yet."

"Tuesday..."

"I don't intend for him to remain with you indefinitely." Tuesday bit her tongue to keep from saying anything else and closed her eyes for a moment, leaning back in her seat. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I hadn't meant to get snippish."

"It's all right."

"I don't know how long," she said quietly, opening her eyes to look at the professional expression on her mentor's face. "I'm... all but horrified," she admitted, "at what he did - what he tried to do. I don't know what else he might have attempted, or what he may have succeeded at, that I don't know about. More than just needing a break from him, and I need him to understand that what he's done is wrong. Just telling him isn't enough. This is something more serious than a simple reprimand can express. I need him to know that this is something reprehensible, and the best way I can think to do that is to... to ground him, I guess. I'm not just taking him out of the action of battling. I'm sending him home."

Professor Oak, who had sat quietly, watching her as she spoke, gave her a soft smile now. "I'm very proud of you, Tuesday." Tuesday glanced at him, surprised. "You're growing into quite the fine trainer; treating your pokemon with the same care you showed those in your presence when you were here, but also with a strength that will make them stronger in turn. Your reasoning is quite well-done, and I agree with you." Tuesday opened her mouth, but he had anticipated her question. "They're your pokemon, Tuesday, and this is your journey. It was not my place to suggest it."

Tuesday closed her mouth, smiling instead. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, and I apologize for disappointing you in that I am not finished utilizing Ashleigh's skills, yet."

"That's fine. He seemed to be enjoying himself, from what I saw of your videos."

Professor Oak chuckled. "Yes, he did, didn't he?" He glanced down at his book again. "I wonder if you would be interested in taking one of the pokemon you have stored here and seeing how they handle in your team." He met Tuesday's eyes again through the viewscreen. "I will, of course, be happy to trade them back once I've finished with Ashleigh, though I admit it may be a week, yet. We're having a larger problem than we had anticipated."

Tuesday, who had gained a thoughtful expression at the suggestion, nodded at this last bit of information. "Actually, that would be a good idea. I could decide what I wanted to do with these pokemon, and it's wrong to keep them locked up in a lab just because I have my main group." She smirked slightly at Professor Oak. "Not that you don't enjoy the company, of course."

"If you ever catch a muk, I'm transferring your assistancy to Professor Elm."

Tuesday grinned at what was an old argument. "Do you have any suggestions?" Professor Oak gave her a look she knew well. She grinned widely. "Which one is giving you problems?"

"That pichu you caught, what did you name him?"

"Pipkin," Tuesday answered automatically, grinning. "He's adorable, isn't he?"

"He's a menace. Name his Dennis."

"Never. Though Pippin might be an apt halfway point."

Professor Oak, who knew her penchant for names and was familiar with the reference, chuckled. "Quite. There's a name rater in Petropolis who's a friend of mine. I'll give you his address."

Tuesday grinned. "And then I'll take Pipkin."

"Good. Perhaps my lab will stay clean."

"I doubt it," Tuesday muttered in sotto voice. Professor Oak scowled mockingly at her and Tuesday laughed.



The name rater had been relatively close to the pokemon center, and with all of her things already gathered, Dante sent off to Professor Oak, and the pichu on her belt with the rest of her pokemon, Tuesday had headed off to visit him. She sat in the chairs of the waiting room as the name rater dealt with the trainer who had an appointment before her, and opened one of her new journals to write a letter. Although she hadn't contacted him for advice regarding Dante and that had turned out as best it could, she still missed her friends, and it had been days since she had spoken to them.

And it felt good to write something other than journal entries, even though she did enjoy those.





Tuesday glanced up from her writing the recipients' names on the envelopes when the door to the waiting room opened. "Miss Berdison?"

"Yes," Tuesday said, hopping up from her chair. She left her pack and everything behind, taking only her pokeballs into the room with her.

When she came back out a few minutes later, the letters were missing and there was a single, very familiar feather left in their place.

"Wait a minute, Mr. Postman! I didn't get to say hello!"

She thought she heard a chuckle of laughter in her mind, but it might have just been her imagination.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Mar 18 2012, 01:39 AM

Meiko's face flushed, her heart pounding hard enough that she could feel it in her neck, her chest, and her temple. She licked her lips, looking into her boyfriend's eyes.

He looked back, his own eyes full of anticipation, and a slight amount of nervousness. "Are you sure, Mei-chan? If you're not ready..." He trailed off, giving her a chance to answer one way or the other without explicitly sounding as if he were backing down.

"I'm ready, Jaima," she said, trying to ignore the tremor in her voice. "This has... we've waited long enough..." She swallowed. "Unless you're not ready..?"

Jaima smiled, licking his lips in an unconscious mimicry of Meiko. "No... I've wanted this for a while."

Meiko smiled, closed her eyes, and swallowed her nervousness. "Then I choose Chompwater!"

"Tsunami, you're up!"

The trainers faced each other across a crudely drawn circle. The clearing they had chosen to camp in was a bit large, kind of a field off the road that had been denuded of grass and other plant life. Occasionally, from the patches of tilled soil, a pokémon would come here to Engrain and possibly stay in the sun, but they never seemed to stay long.

The two water type pokémon towered over their trainers. Chompwater was much taller than Tsunami, but the swampert made up for it in width, as she was consistently bulkier than the taller feraligatr. A wrestling match between the two would be interesting to watch, to say the least.

Meiko paced back and forth on her portion of the ersatz ring, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two pokémon and Jaima. Her nervousness from the previous night was gone, and that was a relief to Jaima, who had held her long after the fire had been reduced to Embers, hoping that she would be reassured.

Now he was simply hoping she didn't humiliate him too badly in this battle. She had much more experience, and many more badges, than he did. She had tried to reassure him that, since many of the Gym Leaders specialized in two types of pokémon, it was like having two gym badges for every one, but that did little to assure him: She had had six years, give or take, of real travelling experience.

Wisely, he didn't point this out: Meiko had been on the verge of a real hissy fit, and he actually wanted to battle her. After a brief work out, breakfast, and cleaning up, Meiko was practically bouncing in anticipation.

The pokémon circled each other, slowly. Chompwater was still relatively new to the group, but she had seen this particular pokémon be called out by her trainer's mate, and recognized her as an ally. Similarly, Tsunami had watched, patiently, as Meiko's first battle after she evolved was handily won by this feraligatr.

Both, however, had the experience to know that, during a battle, very little quarter was given for being allies. Tsunami herself had nearly been called upon to take on an ally, Tuesday's Dante, and would have gladly done so after seeing his deplorable behavior. Chompwater had been Meiko's only pokémon for a good stretch, and as such had participated in practice battles as well as real ones.

It would be, they decided separately, up to their trainers, in the end.

Meiko chewed her lower lip, once in a while glancing at Jaima. It had been his idea to restrict the battle to same types, and it gave a peek of strategy that he possibly didn't see. Tsunami, now, was part ground type as well as water, leaving her at a disadvantage to Chompwater. He must have known this, but it was a friendly battle. Should she press it.

"Tsunami, use-"

"Chompwater! Flail!"

"- Bide," Jaima finished, blinking at Meiko. She inwardly cursed. She had fallen into a trap of her own making, and it was going to bide Chompwater straight in the tail. Further, she had let her nervousness override her judgement: Flail was a much better move if used when the fight was hard and her pokémon was getting weary. Of course, in a way that helped: Chompwater wasn't weary, so she wouldn't hit as hard, which, in turn, would keep Tsunami from getting a lot of power.

Still, she'd have to mitigate... with a slow grin, she realized as she had made a mistake, so had Jaima, though one much more understandable. After Chompwater had hit Tsunami, she called out, "Now, use Agility!"

The look on Jaima's face, a slight wince, told that he recognized the risk of a move which relied on someone to hit your pokémon. If no one hit, there was no power to it.

There had been, however, the initial hit, and Jaima's command to release still did it's work. Chompwater had tried to push into the beam, realizing that she couldn't dodge it, and had been forced backwards a few feet, if the grooves in the ground were anything to go by.

"Tsu, go on the offensive! Mud Slap!"

It was time for Meiko's brow to furrow. Mudslap wouldn't hardly effect Chompwater at all. However, her confusion wasn't at the tactic, it was whether or not she was expected to also use attacks that wouldn't be effective against Tsunami. No, she thought, Jaima wouldn't want that... Briefly, and with a flare of anger, she wondered if he was just going easy on her. But he had said, when they decided to battle, that he wanted to get a good gauge of how much he'd improved, and how good she was. Neither of those things would happen if he held back...

She reviewed her experience, but was ashamed to say she didn't really remember what Mudslap did. It had been a long time since she'd seen it in a battle, as it was a relatively weak attack.

"Again!"

Of course, small hits could wear a pokémon down over time, but that wasn't Jaima's style, either. It wasn't, she reminded herself, in the one battle she'd seen him in where she was able to actually watch him...

"Again!"

She realized she hadn't given an order, and though Chompwater tried to evade the attacks, the large, sweeping form that Tsunami's new arms could bring about were making it difficult. The swampert seemed to be purposely aiming for the feraligatr's head, as well, as Chompwater's face was almost obscured in mud... wait...

"One more time!"

"Chompwater," Meiko called through grit teeth at self-frustration, "Water gun!" She glared toward Jaima, not truly angry with him, and was rewarded with a partially smug smile. Sure enough, the secondary effects of Mudslap had worked their wonder: Chompwater's aim was off, because the mud on her face was obscuring her vision.

"Watergun straight up! Shower time!" Meiko had, of course, devised ways to clear this up in case, but she still kicked herself. She was so worried about fighting her boyfriend, she wasn't concentrating. Jaima had, probably inadvertently, made it a bit easier on her. Other moves involving mud had the same effect and were much more powerful.

"Take down!"

Oh. He wasn't done yet. "Agility!"

The move was one she had worked on for contests, before she had decided that she really couldn't stand them and defied her mother, and it showed: The curving grace of the feraligatr's body as she swept out of the way, her tail following, made her look like a force of nature, like a living, reptilian wave, and still accomplished it's goal: Chompwater was mentally alert and instinctually aware, and had, by benefit of the move, been missed to boot, not by much, but that was better.

"Crunch!"

With the added speed of the two agilities, the wave that was Chompwater spun, clamping her teeth on the leg of the larger, slower swampert.

Tsunami didn't scream, but did turn her head back and growl at the Feraligatr. For all the good it did, she might as well have been growling at a statue. She tried to knock Chompwater off with her tail, but unfortunately, her own tail had evolved into a fanned fin, and all she accomplished was cooling the large lizard off.

Even Tsunami had to chuckle at that.

Chompwater pulled, and Jaima, chewing the inside of his cheek, puffed out a sigh. "Muddy Water!" Meiko felt for him. He had either just realized that Tsunami was at a disadvantage, (which she personally doubted) or knew that, despite Tsunami's skill, the more experienced Chompwater would win.

Tsunami allowed herself to collapse, pulling the dirt from the ground through her pores and jetting it out the back, augmented by the water that was her power. It hit Chompwater in the face, causing her to let go in shock.

"Chompwater, use Ice Beam!" Meiko had decided that she couldn't just hold back and lose, but she kept her eyes on Chompwater, and therefore missed Jaima's ever so slight smile.

Good gweif, it took wong enough!

Mercury blinked, surprised. Um... are we talking now?

Across the way, in a similar position as the kirlia, floating over their trainer's shoulder, Nightwish, a gothita, rolled her eyes and played with the little bow shape at her neck. Weww I have to tawk to somebody, don't I? She did not notice a small stone drop from the bow, but another pokémon nearby, small, pink, and egg shaped, did, and she toddled to it, squeaking happily. Besides... aw, fowget it.

Eggheart held the stone. It didn't feel good, and it was small. It wasn't the one she wanted. It wasn't the one that made her feel like a grownup! She tossed it away, angrily, then, for good measure, hit the ground with the smallish stone she had gathered the other day, leaving it there. It wasn't right, either. She'd find the right stone! She'd feel like a grown up!

No, no... Mercury was flustered. I just... it's OK to talk to me, I mean... we should get along... right?

Nightwish would have answered, but she felt the loss of her stone as she twiddled with her bow, and was busy frantically looking around. She saw a small stone in the ground, and, hastily but careful not to show she wanted it, pulled it up and stuck it in the fold of her bow. It felt different, but she was too flustered to pay attention. The kirlia being nice?

Um, yeah. Tawk. Fine. Um... just... sowwy, I have to go-- She cut off the communication. All this niceness felt weird!

On the field, Chompwater had missed, and Meiko ground her teeth. "Take Down!" Jaima called. Tsunami lowered her head and charged, slamming into Chompwater with surprising force. However, once the feraligatr felt the body of her opponent, she dug in her feet and slammed her tail on the ground, keeping herself from being taken to the ground, turning her face, she opened her mouth as soon as her nose told her that she was facing a creature and not air, sending a beam of ice into the face of her opponent.

Jaima chewed his lip. "OK, time!"

"Time?!" Meiko's nostrils were flaring. "Jaima, if--"

Jaima put his hands up. "Whoa, whoa! You win, I just didn't want to take it to fainting!" Meiko crossed her arms, and Jaima rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, what if... what if we get attacked? We don't have any revives on us," he said, lower, almost too low to be heard. Meiko's shoulders fell.

"Yeah, OK, that's smart," she said with a sigh. Then, feeling guilty, she ducked her head. "Sorry."

Jaima said nothing, but when Meiko looked up, she could see he was biting his lips, trying to keep from laughing. Meiko's eyes narrowed dangerously, but instead of giving her boyfriend whatfor, she simply ground out, "Nightwish, take the field."

"Mercury," Jaima said, putting out a hand as if allowing a lady to proceed him through the door.

Both psychic pokémon floated forward. Mercury's arms were outstretched, but she watched Nightwish curiously, rather than with any malice. Don't hold back, OK?

Nightwish snorted. You eithew. I'm not as fwagiwe as I wook!

The gothita, however, noticed that, behind Mercury, his arms crossed, Shadow's eyes were intent, and warning. Watch yourself. He was sending to her, and her alone, and this caused the gothita's brows to shoot up in surprise.

Awe you going to teww me how to fight now?

Keep it to the commands of your sensei.

"Pound!" called out Meiko. Nightwish swept forward, one tiny arm reared back.

"Mercury," Jaima said, calmly, "avoid that."

Mercury wasted no time, teleporting almost as soon as the gothita reached her and reappearing behind her. Nightwish snarled and turned, but, with Shadow's warning and the fact that he had seen something during the debacle at Starfall Field that he could hold over her, she ended up waiting, her jaw clenched.

"Double Team, Mercury," Jaima said with a fond smile. Mercury, too, smiled, remembering the first time she'd used it in a battle, against Darryn's eevee, who had evolved into a jolteon later. As she split into several different versions of herself, she sent each one dancing wildly around Nightwish, confusing her.

"Crap," Meiko muttered. "Nightwish, Confusion!"

Give you commands mentawwy! the gothita growled in Meiko's head. And I can use dawk moves!

Meiko blinked. "How?"

It's pawt of my species powews, we-

"No," she giggled. "How do I give commands mentally?"

Has that kiwia taught you anything?

Meiko rolled her eyes. "Mercury isn't my pokémon. She's taught me to talk mentally, but it's basically just me thinking about what I want to say, and her reading that."

Nightwish sighed, blushing. Yes, that's how you do it... I'ww make suwe she doesn't heaw you...

"Oh! So like when we talk?"

Yes, now wiww you pwease do it?!

Meiko giggled, then thought, Sorry, sorry. But what you said earlier, no dark moves. This is a friendly battle

Nightwish dodged, and Meiko swore. Can you teleport like Mercury! Do a wide area Psychock! Nightwish's eyes glowed, and one by one the copies made by Mercury disappeared in a puff of glittering smoke, except for one, which fell back with a cry.

She's got it, Trainer Jaima!

She's a smart one, Jaima said, smiling fondly.

The two pokémon danced now, sending psyching energy raging at each other at the mental commands of their trainers. Meiko had stopped pacing to better concentrate on giving commands.

This woud go so much fastew if I could use dawk attacks! I'm getting tiwed! whined Nightwish.

Should we stop? No dark attacks.

You didn't hoed back with the ice beam against the swapewt!

I'm not going to use dark attacks against Mercury, sweetie. Please get it out of your head.

Nightwish swept to the side, sending an attack toward Mercury. Why not? She hissed as Mercury teleported away from the attack, and spun. The kirlia wasn't behind her, either. It's not wike she's howding back on the tewepotation! *I* can't twewpote!

She's afraid of dark types, and their moves. No. Dark. Moves.

Nightwish stopped completely, and was bowled over by Mercury's psychic attacks. It didn't matter, nor did the odd force of will that Meiko had been able to bring to bear on her that had initially shocked her. Her little heart shaped lips curled into a smile. Oh, weawwy, she thought, and kept the thought to herself.

Then she felt it, and gasped, reaching into her bow and looking a the stone. It was only then that she realized the stone she had in her bow was not the everstone she had carried around when she began to understand both the fact that her small, cute form would get people to loosen up to her because they thought she was cute, and keep perverts from trying to get her to evolve to her final form for... profit.

It was a plain old rock, and years of her body being denied it's natural course had caught up to her.

What the cwap?! she broadcast, so surprised that everyone in the camp heard it. By then, the light was surrounding her, and she felt her body growing, and dammit she was evolving and she couldn't stop it.

The pokémon that was in her place when the light faded was taller than the preceding form, more lithe and mature. Like the kirlia she had been locked in battle with, her legs grew and the folds of her skin that had looked a bit like a ruffled skirt flared out. Her head looked as if she had grown a pair of buns, and bows had spring down her chest and on her head.

She had evolved from a gothita to a gothorita, and she was not happy.

Meiko, however, laughed and clapped. "Oh, Nightwish, you're beautiful!" she cried, rushing to her. " I didn't know you had evolutions! Oh, I'm sorry, I need to do some research when we hit a town," she said.

Jaima, too, had walked onto the field. "Want to call it, Mei-chan?" He nodded toward Nightwish, who was fuming, unnoted by either trainer. "I mean, this is awesome, you should spend time with her, and give her time to get used to it."

"Yes!" She grinned at Jaima, her earlier ire when she thought he was stopping the match for Tsunami completely gone. "Oh, Nightwish, you look beautiful.

You do, really, offered Mercury. Nightwish glared at her.

When I want you opinion, I wiww ask you fo- She stopped, her eyes widening. Wha- I'm stiww tawking wike this?! Weww that's just gweat! just gweat! I was suwe when I evowved it woul- SCWEW IT!

Instead of running off, like she had seemed about to do, she turned to Meiko and let the girl take her. Meiko instantly looked worried: Nightwish hadn't "spoken" since her evolution, at least, not to her, and she took her toward the tents. "Are you OK," she whispered, worried, and Nightwish couldn't keep her anger up for long.

I'm fine, she muttered. The change just exhausted me... She chewed her lip. It wasn't going to be possible to avoid the words that triggered her little speech impediment.

It was, somehow, the kirlia's fault, she thought. She had to be jealous that she had lost control over the girl that had been attached to the trainer who'd chosen her. Somehow, she'd found out about the everstone. It was so clear.

Well, that was fine, Nightwish thought. If she couldn't be cute, if she'd lost that avenue to get what she wanted, she'd just make sure she was the top of the psychic food chain...

* * * * *

They were lounging, and closer together than they had been the night before. Nightwish was in Meiko's lap, getting her crest groomed, but Jaima sat with his arm around Meiko's shoulder, and, as luck would have it, neither felt the need to talk. The fluttering of wings, however, alleviated that particular problem.

"Oh!" Meiko cried.

"Wait a minute," Jaima said, suspicious. Then a smile broke out on his face.

Mr. Postman! Mercury waved as the swellow landed.

Mista Postman? What kind of a dumb name is that fo a swewwow?

Mercury frowned at her, and the swellow looked at her with a shrewed look. It's a fine name, he said, acidly, and one I am rather fond of.

Nightwish's eyes widened in surprise at hearing the voice, knowing it was broadcast and not simply thought. She looked at Mercury and sneered slightly. It sounds wike it was given to you by a foe yeaw owd giw.

The feathers at the base of Mr. Postman's neck rippled, and his eyes hooded. It was. Two, actually. Twin daughters of my trainer.

Congwatuwations. You awe officiawy wamah then aww othew biwds.

Mr. Postman's wings flapped as the gothorita slammed the connection closed, but Mercury moved to make peace. Don't mind her, Mr. Postman... she's been out of sorts since she evolved... her speech impediment didn't go away, and she expected it to.

Be careful of her, little one, he sent to her, while dropping the letter Tuesday had written at Jaima's feet. Pokémon like that are trouble.

Before Mercury could protest, he was in the air, and did not even wait before teleporting away. Mercury looked at the spot where he'd disappeared, thoughtful.

Jaima and Meiko, however, were significantly distracted by Tuesday's letter. They read it, giggling and smiling and nodding their heads, impressed by her straightforwardness. and shook their heads at the news about Dante.

Jaima went to his tent and came back with some paper, a pen, and a board to write on. Meiko reached for it all, plucking it out of his hands before he could stop her. "My handwriting's better."

It was, Jaima had to admit, so he settled next to her, putting he arm around her again, and they wrote the letter together.

Putting the letter into an envelope, Jaima waited for a bit. Finally, he handed the letter to Shadow. "I'm sure he'll be back after he has supper. Meiko and I are going to bed. Could you make sure he gets this?"

Shadow nodded, and, as promised, Jaima and Meiko kissed goodnight, wandering toward their tents, and, secretly, wishing the other would ask to stay with the first.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Mar 20 2012, 12:41 AM

It took less than an hour for Tuesday to realize why Professor Oak had referred to Pippin as a menace.

After speaking with the Name Rater, who was happy to help adjust the settings on Pipkin's pokeball so that his name could be changed, Tuesday had stopped at the massive department store to gather some items before leaving Petropolis. She had left her pokemon out of their pokeballs for some time to stretch and to see if there was anything they wanted to get before they left the city, and had been looking for a few new sets of clothes while her pokemon followed her around.

Tempest was not so much wary of Pippin, Tuesday found, as just slightly unsure of how to deal with him. She kept her distance some. Zorro was, of course, the exact opposite and spent much of the time chatting away with the pichu, though Tuesday didn't know what of. Odysseus, for his part, kept his mouth shut and his eyes watchful, to make sure no one wandered off. Eowyn and Spectre followed Tuesday around, the latter pokemon becoming more at ease around her group, and the former quiet but pleased.

When Tuesday stepped into the fitting rooms with her choice of clothing in hand, Zorro, Odysseus, Tempest, and Pippin remained outside, while Eowyn and Spectre followed her in. Tuesday tried on all of the outfits, settling on three of them.

She was somewhat surprised, when she gathered the three up, to discover that her choices had unconsciously reflected the colors of her pokemon.

There was a loose black pair of pants that widened about the ankles, a pair of courderoy jeans the color of Tempest's stripes, and a cream-colored pair of pants that matched Odysseus' stomach fur. Tuesday had gotten another dark blue T-shirt to match the one she'd lost, and a black long-sleeved one made of a thin, cool material. The last was red, and the color immediately made Tuesday think of Dante's slightly darker-than-normal skin.

Tuesday had also found a loose zipper-up jacket that was designed to look like torso of a riolu. Putting it on and looking at herself in the mirror, Tuesday could see it perfectly matched Zorro's coat. The jacket even had a hood with two small ears, stuffed with mareep wool to stick up straight like ears. Black flaps hung down, as well, to match the dangling sensors that hung from a riolu's mask. Tuesday giggled as she looked at herself in the mirror, before taking the jacket off and adding it to the pile of clothing to buy.

When she left the fitting room, it was to find the area where her pokemon were waiting for her in disarray.

Pippin had lived up to his new name and managed to open the package of underwear that Tuesday had bought. There were only six pairs, but that was more than enough for each of the waiting pokemon to put on their head as a hat.

Tuesday glanced at each of her four waiting pokemon in turn. Tempest looked so embarrassed that Tuesday could see her blush even through her fur, his two long ears stuck through the leg-holes of the purple underwear, and folded back flat across her head. Odysseus appeared indulgent, but also eager to remove said garment from where it was wrapped around his skull. Zorro looked proud to be standing where he was, arms crossed, light pink and flowery underwear on his head. Tuesday covered her eyes briefly in humiliation and then glanced over at Pippin.

The tiny pichu stood all of twelve inches tall, too-big triangle ears sticking up from a pair of lime green underwear on his head, and his tiny hands planted into fists on his hips. He was, apparently, posing as a superhero, for a white pair of underwear had been tied around his neck, hanging behind him like a cape.

Tuesday covered her face again and muttered into her hand. Professor Oak had been right. Pippin... was a menace.

Packing up the underwear took more time than it should have, because Pippin, upon realizing his superhero outfit was to be stolen away, ran around the store squeaking at the top of his lungs, underwear-cape flapping behind him. He was finally quelled - and the underwear hidden away - when Tuesday gave Zorro a pleading look and the riolu disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a rainbow-colored hankercheif, which was quickly discovered to be a much larger and more noticeable cape. It happily replaced the underwear and Tuesday quickly paid for her purchases so she could run away to another store.

A new pair of hiking boots, a larger bag - a dark brown backpack with a single strap that wrapped across the chest from shoulder to hip - and a replenishment of potions, ingredients, food, and all general supplies fit for her trip on the road and Tuesday was ready to go. She recalled all of her pokemon except Tempest, who sat happily on her shoulder, and Zorro, who walked beside Tuesday, and made her way from the city. She was glad to leave the skyscrapers and noise behind her. Zorro, trotting at her side, had her messenger bag slung across his chest as his new costume-pack.

They made their journey in relative silence, enjoying the quiet of the walk and the sunshine. Tuesday hadn't kept track of the time and didn't know, for sure, how long they had been walking when she heard the flap of feathered wings on the air and glanced up out of instinct, a smile on her lips before she glimpsed the colorful pokemon.

"Wait a minute, Mr. Postman!" she called happily, and was certain he hadn't had time to compulse her to say so yet. She heard a chuckle in her mind, and then the swellow dropped lower in the sky and slowed his flight, flapping his wings to bring himself to a stop near her.

"Do you have a letter for me?"

"Two, actually," the swellow said, his voice ringing in Tuesday's mind. "One from each of your brothers."

Tuesday grinned and gave something of a hop of excitement. "Thank you, Mr. Postman."

"My pleasure, dear." He held out the letters to her and Tuesday took them, pleased.

"Would you like something to eat?" She felt her stomach rumble and figured it must be somewhere around lunchtime.

"Thank you, but no... I've had a rather unsettling run in that is still turning my stomach."

Tuesday frowned at the prospect, curious but unwilling to ask. The swellow seemed happy to simply leave, most likely to return home and enjoy some time away from whatever force had disgruntled him so.

Deciding that she would have time to read the letters and perhaps answer one over lunch, Tuesday moved off the road and found a place to sit in a grassy area beneath a tree. There, she called out all of her pokemon and that ate a small lunch while Tuesday read her letters. The first was from Jaima and Meiko - a fast reply, as she had expected. The second letter was from Brone - a reply to a letter she had sent him nearly a week before before.

Tuesday frowned down at the letter in her hand. Yes, Brone had sounded very... Brone in the letter, and the hand that wrote it was clearly Cassandra's, but... there seemed to be something wrong. A Chess match could have waited, or Brone could have written more of the letter later, and it was a little weird that he hadn't included anything about their parents, or Anika (who, Tuesday had mentioned in her letter to him, had apparently battled Vega not long before she did), or Cassandra. It just seemed... off, somehow.

"Ri?"

Tuesday glanced at Zorro, who had been peering at the letter over her shoulder. The riolu was giving her a curious look now and Tuesday offered a struggling half-smile. "I dunno, Zorro." She folded the letter up and slipped it in between two pages in her sketchbook. "I'll reply to that one later when I have more time to dissect it, I guess."

Pulling Jaima and Meiko's letter back out, she skimmed it briefly before grabbing a blank piece of paper and beginning a reply.



Tuesday had her tongue sticking out from between her teeth when she wrote her farewell in Japanese, but she was pretty sure she had gotten the characters right. She was still learning, and she had a lot left to learn, but she was pleased with what she knew already.

With a smile, Tuesday folded up the letter and placed it in an envelope. Zorro, who had stood up, sure that they were about to get on their way again, held out his paws for the letter. With a smile, Tuesday handed it to him, and he tucked it in his costume bag.

"Just make sure Mr. Postman can get to it if he comes tonight."

"Luri," Zorro said with a sage nod.

With a smile, Tuesday pushed herself to her feet and grabbed her bag. Tempest hopped up onto her shoulder and Zorro pranced happily beside her as the three continued on down the road.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Mar 22 2012, 11:56 PM

Jaima had woke up first, which wasn't too odd. Lately, Meiko seemed to make a point of waking up at the same time as Jaima, but before that, she'd sleep. This was understandable to the boy: He tended to wake up just before dawn, or just as the sun was rising, if he slept in.

It was a habit that had been years in the making. When his father had been killed (something that did not cross his mind with as much regularity, a fact that both disturbed him and came as something of a relief), and his mother had sunk into a deep depression as a result, Jaima had learned that taking care of children did not allow much for sleeping in. At first, the girls would wake him, but, after a time, he started to wake up naturally on his own. The habit stuck, even if he had been short on sleep. The latest he had woken before his Journey to Furoh was a few hours after sunrise, and he'd felt so lazy that it rarely happened anymore.

It tended to happen a bit more lately, since his obligations weren't as morning sensitive, but Shadow, who was training him in the art of combat, kept those times to a minimum.

A quick listen outside of Meiko's tent revealed that she was sleeping, and rather than wake her, he stepped well away from it, starting his warm ups as he waited for Shadow to appear.

Unlike Jaima, who woke when his body was ready, Shadow seemed to have a schedule. At least, he always appeared at around the same time, either waking Jaima himself, or joining him in warm ups, and, once, delivering to Jaima a sloppily made but delicious eggs sandwich, the origins of which were never brought up. Sometimes Meiko joined him for the bulk of his training, which involved some form or another of martial arts, either the simple, self-defense forms Jaima had learned in Johto, or those inspired and instinctive to Shadow's species.

If there was a Lucario-Style Kung Fu, Jaima would soon be a master of it. A master who, arguably, could spend years honing the technique in order for it to be considered effective, and a master that may never be recognized by the more "legitimate" forms of Lucario-Style Kung Fu, but a master nonetheless. After all, if one learned the art from the source, was that not true mastery?

When Meiko did not join Jaima in the training of the Art, she usually woke in time for his cool down run, which, because she was involved, became just a run, and longer than usual, because they rather enjoyed the company of each other, and something about sharing the experience without the need (or, really, ability) to talk was comforting, because despite the vocal impediment, they still enjoyed each other's company.

None of these thoughts passed through Jaima's mind as more than observations, the whys and wherefores and how-tos and who-withs not being something the young lad usually spent time on at any rate.

Jaima was finishing his warm-ups when Shadow appeared. As usual, the lucario did not seem to need to stretch or warm up his muscles, though he did a few quick, minor stretching motions, rotating his arm and stretching out his thigh muscles, in order to keep appearances. The perimeter is secure, Sensei Jaima.

Jaima blinked at him, and Shadow nodded. We have been posting a guard since the occurrence in the forest between Sensei DeBrody's home and Petropolis. It is not hard, Shadow said, holding up a paw to forestall any protest was coming, though at the moment Jaima was still struggling with the concept and unable to formulate a sentence as complex as 'well stop it!' Some of us are nocturnal, and that makes it easy for them to take a shift. Some of us, he said, his tone becoming vaguely teasing, don't need as much sleep as our trainers or psychic companions seem to think...

When you're falling asleep on your feet, don't come crying to me then! rang a huffy, feminine voice in their heads.

Quiet out thewe, my twainew's twying to sweep!

Both Shadow and Jaima had to laugh, and both got the receiving end of an evil eye so potent, the perpetrator did not have to stick her shiny blue head out into the open for them to see it.

"Brrr..."

Shadow nodded in amused agreement.

Soon, however, with the ire of the psychics forgotten, presumably because they were busy griping at each other in 'private', Jaima and Shadow got to the work of the latter training the former.

When Jaima had started, and Shadow was a riolu, Shadow would show him a technique, and Jaima would repeat it, with Shadow correcting him (at times painfully) until he'd gotten it right. This is known to many martial artists as the boring part of learning martial arts: constant repetition with an emphasis on form. Jaima's martial art teacher in Johto, however, wasn't very good: He mostly trained in a self defense course, and mostly to women and business men for various, personal reasons ranging from the eponymous self-defense to a way to bolster faltering or non-existent self esteem. This was effective for the purpose of defending one's self, but much less so in the area of actually learning the art part of 'martial art'. As such, Jaima had mostly taken the same class over and over, necessitating the need for Shadow to break him out of his habits. To him, the proper way and its repetition was new, and therefore exciting, and there was a goal that he could accomplish, which drained a majority of the boredom from the act.

Much like a well phrased yet long paragraph will be boring to a person who wishes to see the action of the story, but very well received by one who enjoys the structure of literature.

However, after Shadow had evolved, proving that he was the observant teacher Jaima had taken him for, he had noticed (during the battle that occurred after his evolution) that a second, important, part of his Sensei's training had been neglected, though not by choice: His agility and reaction speed had nearly been neglected, though mostly to get his training back on track, and somewhat justified by the fact that his shorter stature as a riolu really only allowed him to correct his feet OR his arms, and not both at once.

This was what Jaima and Shadow trained with mostly. When Meiko joined them, when she did, Shadow found that Jaima was mostly teaching her the basics as he had been taught (though not venturing into the sometimes painful tactics that the riolu had been prone to), but would not need to work as hard on the agility aspects: in this, Meiko had good form, and some natural ability.

Some drills were performed: Punches, kicks, in repetitions of ten, then forms, which Shadow had been forced to make up on the fly, and only the near eidetic memory of Mercury had allowed him to keep them consistent. Afterwards, there was sparring. Jaima was surprisingly fast to the lucario, but not surprisingly would have been no match in an actual fight. To the boy's credit, he never seemed to mind the near misses that kept him from ever landing a strike, as if he knew (or had been told, he suddenly realized) that a human opponent wouldn't have been able to dodge as easily as his lucario trainer.

Soon, the training was over. This was evident by two things: Jaima's need to catch his breath more often, and the sleepy groan coming from the direction of the tents.

Human and lucario turned at the same time, looking at a very disheveled, very sleepy looking young girl, her red hair sticking out around her head like a willow tree's limbs, and her eyes hooded. There was a grumpy pout on her lips.

"Uh oh," Jaima mumbled. Shadow nodded again.

"Why didn't you wake me up," Meiko whined, in a tone that most mature people really could only achieve, and indeed only ever appeared, when they were still very, very tired.

"Well, sugar," Jaima start, carefully, "You were sleeping, and you usually wake up with me when you want to train."

Meiko pouted, but stumbled forward. She was wrapped in her sleeping back, as there was a bit of a chill in the air that the sparring had masked, and Jaima looked up to notice clouds covering the sky, seeming to darken.

He looked back down, and Meiko looked up at him, her deep blue eyes nearly covered by her eyelids. Finally, she tipped forward, her head impacting Jaima's chest and her arms wrapping around his waist. The sleeping bag dropped, revealing that she was once again wearing his silk shirt as pajama. From this angle, Jaima could not see more than her head, shoulders, and some of her back, but he could only imagine her shapely legs, bare, somehow making the large shirt on her small frame even more alluring.

"Oh, sugar," he said, with only the slightest hitch in his voice. "I'm all sweaty-"

"Dun care," she muttered, turning her face so her cheek pressed against his chest. "Comfy."

Jaima chuckled, and Meiko smiled at the pleasant rumble against her ear. "Didn't sleep well, huh?"

"No," she moaned, pouting again. "There was a rock under my bag, and I kept having weird dreams." As if to punctuate her point, she stretched her back from side to side, moaning when the pain from the rock made itself known.

"Aww, poor Mei-chan," Jaima said, softly. He leaned forward, running the flats of his palms down her back, and was rewarded with a different kind of groan. Her breath hissed out when his hand found the bunched muscles where her back had tried to twist away from the offending rock, but she relaxed once the flat of his palm began to circle the area, pressing closer to him.

"Mm, feels good," she said, softly. Jaima smiled and leaned down further.

Meiko turned her head, burying her face in his neck, and, waking a bit, began to kiss where her lips where. Jaima sighed. "That feels good, too."

For a while, they stopped, Jaima pulling back so that they could kiss each other. The soft, gentle kisses soon gave way to deeper and more passionate ones, which, of course, lead to the inevitable: the jumping back, deep red faces, and rushed apologies for going too fast, two voices mingling over each other in their rush to make amends.

Meiko hurried to her tent, and Jaima to his, to wash up and change. Just for good measure, he allowed Tsunami to provide the water, extra cold.

By the time he was dry, and had on a new shirt, he heard Meiko's tent unzipping. He turned, his mouth and mind already working to formulate words that would make the previous situation sting less, either to apologize, which part of him felt wasn't strictly necessary, or to joke, which another part thought was tacky, or just to say something to her, anything, to let her know nothing had changed.

This is why his mouth was open when he stopped, in something like awe, at Meiko's outfit.

She was not deliberately trying to be sexy; not like she had in Arasam (though Jaima was not the one who'd caught her out). She merely put on exercise clothing, which by nature of its function, to cover naughty bits tastefully but still allow enough exposure for the body's natural cooling process (it's called 'sweating') to work. Thus, she was dressed in a tank top that opened generously at the neck to the collarbone, as well as under the arms with enough space to allow air to cool her there, and shorts that came down to about a quarter of her thigh. Her outfit was coordinated, and Jaima realized he'd not really seen her in an un-coordinated outfit, except for the one time at DeBrody's while she was doing laundry, and that was cute as well... regardless, it was not a purposely stare-at-me-and-drool-the-power-of-breasts-compels-you outfit.

Jaima, however, couldn't stop staring. She was well toned, and the running with him and only enhanced that. She also still had very nice curves in very nice places. Her face was slightly rounded still, a mark that she was young, yet there was a dignity in her eyes that showed she was maturing. Her mouth bowed, a tiny smile that Jaima found irresistibly cute. And when she was nervous, she blushed, and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

She was doing so now, yet she, too, did not lower her eyes nor look away, as if she knew the effect she had on him, and enjoyed it.

He was still too muddled to know that this was a different reaction than before, when the heated tension of moments left her flustered, or when a few steps too far toward passion would end in a violent shove or near-panic attack, followed by a depression that could take hours to dissapate.

"We still have to run, right?"

Jaima smiled, slowly, knowing his cheeks were as red as Dante's hide, and nodded.

She put her hand out to him, and he to her, and though they didn't run that way, they started hand in hand, and ended the same way.

* * * * *

Nightwish watched the pair leave. It would be a simple thing, to push her new trainer into her soon-to-be mate's arms. Part of her wanted it, desperately, for diverse yet equally strong reasons. But she didn't, because a larger part of her was happy that she was allowed to chose, and that, at present, there was no pressure.

Nightwish wasn't used to helping people. All of her trainers before this one had been... foolish. Vacuous. Taken in by her cuteness and seeming vulnerability. Each and every one after the first had been left in an empty apartment, stunned and confused, while Nightwish (who, really, should have been tipped off by the thought-out name this new one had trainer, as her other names had ranged from "Babybutt (true story) to Bows) left with all the food she could carry, as well as a broken ball. She'd been around the world, and only her lack of training kept her from being significantly stronger than the kirlia who, before, psychically ruled the group.

Well, now they should be about even, and Nightwish had a weapon that would tear the other from her lofty perch... knowledge.

Knowledge and Dark moves.

Admittedly, it was the Dark moves that would actually do the lofty perch tearing, but the knowledge was important.

Al she had to do was wait for an opportunity to come by...

Nightwish..?

She had to admit, things definitely happened with this group... Shadow and Meiko, the only two who knew she could do dark moves, were running, Shadow having joined them to keep guard over them (the torchic, Blazeclaw, had hitched a ride on the lucario's head...). It was too good a timing not to take the opportunity.

Nightwish, I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I just wanted to ask if you were all right...?

Nightwish put on a smile. Her eyes were still hooded, as that was a natural position for her species, regardless of whether or not it was one for her (it was, but that didn't matter), and the smile looked a bit creepy, but Mercury was a bit of an optimist here. She had, not long ago, worried that there would be no getting through to this new pokémon of her Trainer's mate, and the recent upswing in her attitude had given her long given up on hope.

I'm awwight... I had hoped I woud be wid of this thought impediment when I evowved, but is seems wike that won't happen... Nightwish could see that Mercury was about to try to encourage her, and, tamping down a small, unwelcome feeling of unease, rushed right into her plan. My twainew was a wittwe upset when you twainew didn't wake hew fow a wowkout. She wanted me to check and see if he was OK, but I didn't. You've hewd you end of the bawgain, so I am howding mine. But maybe we can weach an agweement? Wet us check the othews emotions, owe we ask each othew?

Mercury smiled, a genuine, happy smile, and Nightwish felt another, stronger pang of that unease. Yes, I'd like that as well... Trainer Jaima was afraid that Meiko was scared again after they... lost control, she blushed at this, and Nightwish rolled her eyes, But as you said, I told him I couldn't.

Nightwish smiled, a small, flat smile. Weww, then, wet us go somewhewe pwivate and discuss, shaww we? She extended her arms toward the woods, and Mercury lead the way, not seeing the flat smile turn into an all too angled, evil looking grin.

* * * * *

When Jaima and Meiko returned to the camp, sweating and panting and stretching out their weary legs, Mr. Postman was waiting for them. Meiko opened her mouth, but was still gulping in air. Jaima just waved it away. The bird looked slightly miffed.

Oh, wait a minute, Mr. Postman. Have you seen Mercury?

The mental touch from the lucario seemed to delight him. No, she was away from the camp when I came in, and evidently wants her privacy. Not that I could break into her thoughts without her express permission, mind you...

Shadow nodded. She has been taking a little time each day to search for Cassandra. There is no need to bother her now, thank you.

The bird nodded, but looked out to the forest.

Jaima and Meiko, having caught their breath, took the letter from Mr. Postman, who, not having his intelligence, name, and feather insulted by a black version of his favorite psychic type, hung around and ate a bit as the pair wrote back.

Shadow cleared his throat, just after the tickle fight ended and Meiko was trying to explain to Tuesday why the letter was wrinkled a bit and there were lines scribbled on it. Jaima turned to him.

Could you ask Kohai Tuesday if she has heard from Cassandra? Mercury is a bit worried about her.

"Sure, Shadow," Jaima said, his brows up. He conveyed the message to Meiko, who got slightly serious and began to write back.



Meiko put the pen down, folded the letter carefully, and put it in the envelope. She looked Jaima in the eye, her own swimming in worry and self recrimination. Jaima knew why.

Tuesday, who was deathly afraid of water, was also deathly afraid of a specific water type. One that, right now, was lounging in the dimming sunlight of a cloudy day.

Meiko's Chompwater.

As Mr. Postman took off with a mighty heave of his wings, Jaima put a comforting arm around Meiko. Neither one of them spoke about the situation. Neither wanted to.

"Hey... there's that donphan in the camp again..."

"Yeah..."

Jaima kissed the top of Meiko's head as she continued. "Maybe we should catch him..."

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Apr 2 2012, 02:57 AM

Tuesday woke as dawn peeked its half-slumbering head over the horizon. She was curled up in a ball, pajama pants twisted and pinning her legs together. She had one hand clenched in a fist around the neck of her Lugia plushie as she arched her spine and stretched her arms over her head. She kicked her legs out and shook them until her twisted pajamas righted themselves.

"Ungh," Tuesday groaned, squinting her eyes open and fiddling with drunken fingers at the flap to her tent. She pulled it open enough for her to see the light outside, then let her head flop down onto the ground again. With a huff, she resigned herself to the necessity of having to get up.

Zorro was sitting comfortably on the branch of a tree when Tuesday crawled out of her tent. He had one leg dangling down from the branch and sat forward slightly when Tuesday came out.

She was dressed in a second pair of loose pajamas, these plain black, the shirt having short sleeves; a rather sharp contrast to the pair she had been sleeping in, which were long-sleeved and crimson, with pikachus all over them in various positions. As she stood up, Tuesday stretched her arms over her head and fell into the warm-up stage of her training.

Normally, she trained in the mornings with Jaima, stretching together, before they fell into their katas - a series of movements to practice strikes and blocks that she would have used in a sparring match against Jaima when their katas were finished.

The morning training sessions were much more fun, she had to admit, with Jaima there to train with. Still, a small change like losing a training partner could also turn out to gain her one, as well.

Zorro leapt from his tree branch and landed on the ground before her, grinning widely as he stretched his arms and legs, mimicking her, and then fell into his own version of katas. Tuesday didn't know where he had come up with all of his movements. Some she recognized as being moves that Jaima had taught her, and a few she thought were just the moves of his species, wrapped together so they flowed easily into one another. Perhaps some he had learned from Shadow, but Tuesday didn't know if perhaps Zorro was just using his normal technique of making it up as he went.

Once they had separated from Jaima and Meiko, Tuesday had briefly contemplated leaving out the training, instead just taking the time to start traveling earlier in the mornings, or, in the rare occasions like last night, when she stayed up more than half the night sketching, sleeping in the following morning. However, she had decided to continue her training, to keep in the habit, and she was glad she had. The first morning that she'd gotten up to start on her training, dressed in black pajamas, Zorro had hopped down next to her and joined her.

It had surprised Tuesday at first, but every morning since, the riolu had joined her in katas and then sparred with her, before the two of them took a run around whatever camp they had made. Although they hadn't been separated from Jaima and Meiko for very long, Tuesday found that having him train with her had become something that she expected, and deeply enjoyed.

Tempest ground her teeth together as she flicked her ears, twitching them this way and that. The rest of her body was perfectly still. She stood balanced on her hind paws, forepaws tucked up against her chest, her tail held out behind her. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she let loose a soft growl at the sharp sound of Tuesday's fist being stopped by the pad of Zorro's paw.

"What's got yer sails in a twist, lass?"

Tempest turned her head, ears flicking upward. Odysseus stood behind her, leaning up against a tree, her arms folded across his chest. One of his furry brows was lifted lightly, and his teeth were bared in a smirk that made Tempest's fur bristle.

"Tuesday isn't thinking," she growled, swinging her tail angrily. "We've lost two of our most powerful allies, even if that mutt was a complete idiot more than half the time. It wouldn't be so bad if we were still with the other two humans, but we're out here, on our own, with three of our team little more than babies, and one of them a sick one!"

It was clear she meant Eowyn, the albino eevee, by that last part, but Odysseus didn't say the pup's name to bring it up. She and the pichu, Pippin, were still back inside the tent where they had slept the night before. He'd checked on them briefly before coming out to see what had the pikachu in such a fuss, not that the occurrence was a rare one.

"Ya don't trust the lass's judgment? She's yer trainer."

"She's just a child!" Tempest snapped. "She doesn't always think-"

"On the contrary, it seems to me the lass spends more'n the North Star's journey thinkin'." The floatzel eased himself off from the tree he had been leaning against and walked forward some ways, standing closer to Tempest but peering beyond her. In a clearing only a small distance away, Zorro and Tuesday had moved beyond their katas and were sparring, the small, human girl trying to get beyond the riolu's steady skills at blocking.

Tuesday's fist would lash out, only to be stopped with Zorro's paw, her fist making a loud smacking sound against the pads on his black paws. She'd lash a kick out next, trying to catch him off guard going for his waist, or sweeping under his legs to try and trip him. In these instances, Zorro would raise a paw to catch Tuesday's leg, shoving her back and forcing her to struggle to regain her balance, or jump over her sweeping leg and land with a smirking grin that dared her to try again.

Odysseus watched as the riolu winked after dodging to the side to avoid a punch that hadn't been all that well aimed, before lashing out with his own leg. Tuesday brought up both hands, catching the paw in her palms and shoving back hard. Zorro yelped as he was knocked backward, arms cartwheeling wildly as he struggled to keep his balance.

Tuesday didn't give him a chance to reclaim it. With a shriek, she lunged at Zorro, jumping onto the riolu and knocking the startled jackal pokemon to the ground. Zorro barked when he landed firmly on his back on the ground, the sharp bite at the air followed quickly by the sound of Tuesday giggling.

"I understand yer worried, lass, but ya haven' even given the little'uns a chance. Let'em show their worth 'fore ya go judging them." He finally turned his gaze back to the annoyed pikachu. "Sound fair to yer ears?"

Tempest grit her teeth, said ears flicking. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes," she growled. "I'll give the brats a chance to prove themselves, but if their weakness puts Tuesday in danger-"

"A little more faith in yer trainer, lass, wouldn' hurt." Odysseus nodded his head at her, before stepping through the clearing to save Zorro from Tuesday, who was trying to find out if riolu were ticklish.



Tuesday was just sliding the folded-up tent into its carry-bag when a flutter of wings caught her attention. Latching the flap, she lifted her head to the brief expanse of sky that she could see through a break in the trees and grinned. "Wait a minute, Mr. Postman!"

A chuckle in her mind preluded the swellow's appearance, wings moving in a graceful arc as he glided through the open area to land on a fallen tree that Tuesday had used as a seat the night before. Shaking out his wings and settling into a more comfortable position, the swellow chirruped happily, holding out a taloned foot for Tuesday. He had two letters for her.

"Thank you, Mr. Postman."

"You're quite welcome, my dear."

Tuesday took the letters happily. She was pleased to see that she had, as she'd expected, received a letter from Jaima and Meiko. The other, much to her delight, had come from Darryn.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Tuesday asked, settling into a cross-legged position on the ground and glancing back up at the swellow. "The others are eating now and I'm sure there's more than enough for them."

Pleased at the offer, the post-swellow fluttered off to make use of the suggestion. Left alone near the fallen log and still-warm fire pit, Tuesday gave her attention fully to the letters now in her possession.



Tuesday grinned at the bouncing way in which Darryn wrote, getting sudden thoughts which interrupted his main point. It was a bit like how Brone used to tell her that her thought processes ran, and that was just amusing. It was good to see that her friend was doing so well, and she was glad to hear from him. She missed him as much as Jaima and Meiko.

With the letter fresh in her mind yet, Tuesday took a fresh piece of paper from her nearby satchel and began to pen a response.



Rather surprised that she'd had so much to write to Darryn, Tuesday folded up the letter and turned to Jaima and Meiko's. As usual, it didn't take her all that long to read, and she fetched another piece of paper to write a response. Rather than the delighted expression she'd worn when responded to Darryn's letter, however, during this one, her expression was a little tight and concerned.



Mr. Postman was swallowing the last bit of scrambled eggs when Tuesday wandered over to where her pokemon were. She smiled at the seven of them, pleased to see that Spectre and Eowyn had decided that they liked each other enough to sit close together, their fur gleaming contrastly in the sunlight filtering through the trees.

"I have three letters, Mr. Postman, if you're okay with traveling to Pallet Town."

"I would be happy to, dear."

Smiling, Tuesday handed the three envelopes over, but hesitated before releasing them into the swellow's firm grasp. "Would you... check on Cassandra while you're there?"

She thought she caught of glimpse of something calculating in the bird pokemon's eyes, but there was a glimmer of sunlight and then he was looking at her in that pleasant, happy way of his. "I'll be sure to give her your regards and be certain she is no worse for wear than last I saw her."

Tuesday smiled at him fondly. "Thank you, Mr. Postman."

There was a flutter of wings, a brush of feathers on the wind, and the swellow was gone, their break over.

The ashes and still-warm coals in the fire scattered and doused lightly with water, courtesy of Odysseus, everyone helped to make sure that nothing was left behind, some of the pokemon were recalled, and then they set off. Tempest rode on Tuesday's shoulders, with Zorro walking at her side, his own pack slung across his shoulder. Odysseus walked behind her, acting like a rear guard (though, considering Tempest's recent temper, Tuesday though the floatzel's chattering had less to do with reporting any present danger and more to do with some manner of teasing).

Tuesday had looked at the map she had of Furoh that morning and had been pleased to see, if she was reading the map properly (of which there was probably a fifty percent chance of not being so), they would probably arrive in Arthro Town within the next three days, provided they didn't encounter anything that was cause any sort of delay.

So, naturally, a delay was exactly what they found.

They were walking along a dirt road not two hours after they'd stopped for lunch. The path was not far from the main road, and they could still see it somewhat through the surrounded wood, but they had the benefit of a cover of thick trees to keep out the rain that had been steadily falling for the past hour. Tuesday was just glad it wasn't pouring, or storming. The rain had remained steady, and it was certainly more than a drizzle, but it was not strong enough that the thick pine forest around her was shaken roughly and, except for her feet, she remained mostly dry.

Tuesday was silently berating herself for not buying a second pair of shoes when she did her shopping for a new wardrobe when a slap of Odysseus' twin tails in a small puddle called her attention. Turning around to regard him with a curious expression, she found him gazing off toward the main road with a contemplative look on his face, the muscles in his legs tensing even as she watched.

And then a roar split the sky. The very trees seemed to shake at the force of it, leaves falling, a weakly-held dead limb crashing to the ground a few feet off. Tuesday did not recognize the roar as one she'd heard before, but she knew the sounds of a battle, and she recognized the very human, very familiar, cry of "Indiana! Close Combat! Get in his face, but watch those teeth!"

Odysseus let out a sharp cry that was very much in the nature of combating her current actions, but Tuesday ignored him, jumping over a nest of winding tree roots and racing up the small incline to the main road. There, in the middle of the puddle-strewn road, stood Reilly Coons, his clothes soaked, hair dripping down his face. Indiana, the monferno, danced and jumped and twisted and twirled through the air, avoid the sharp, powerful, ferocious attacks of a huge, muddy green, very-pissed-off Tyranitar.

"Mach Punch!"

As Tuesday watched, the monferno leapt up, tail waving behind him, and crashed his fist firmly into the saurian's head. The tyranitar, rather than crumble or even flinch from the attack, roared in anger. It thrashed, moving with an agility Tuesday would not have expected from a pokemon so large, and swung its tail around, swatting the monkey away like a fly. Indiana crashed to the ground in a flicker of flames and a token whimper.

A fiercely white ball of energy pulsed in between the tyranitar's jaws. Tuesday felt a brief thrill of excitement that was eclipsed by an emotion very much like horror. The tyranitar was aiming the Hyper Beam, an attack that Tuesday had never actually seen performed, at Indiania. The monferno was currently being helped to his feet by a very worried, very oblivious, Reilly.

"Odysseus, quick attack!" Tuesday snapped, waving her hand desperately at the duo. As much as she'd like to send an Aqua Jet at the dinosaur, it might not be enough to stop his attack.

As usual, the floatzel didn't question her. He moved like a bullet, flashing forward in a quick attack that brought him slamming into the duo. Tuesday knew Reilly was more than likely to be bruised from the attack, the floatzel's shoulder slamming into his ribs, but at least he wouldn't be incinerated.

The Hyper Beam slammed into the ground, a great beam of white like a pocketed ray of sunlight, right where the two had been a moment ago. The tyranitar roared at missing his intended target, but Tuesday didn't stop to fetch him a violin.

"Zorro, Copycat! Hyper Beam the tyranitar!"

The riolu jumped forward, golden eyes narrow, jaws slightly separated. His eyes flashed briefly, a strange flicker of blue overlapping the gold. The tyranitar roared as a ball of iridescent light formed between the gleaming fangs in Zorro's mouth. Tuesday felt a strange twinge in her chest, either from the rational fear of the great dinosaur, or perhaps excitement at the Hyper Beam attack being used by one of her own pokemon. For a moment, she felt a thrill of strength within her own grasp, the heat of burning power.

And the next, the Hyper Beam had erupted from Zorro's mouth, except it didn't quite work right. Tuesday became privy to one of the reasons that only fully-evolved pokemon could use the Hyper Beam attack.

There was an explosive sound, like thunder, as the Hyper Beam left Zorro's mouth and split the air. The riolu, instead of standing braced on the ground, however, was blown backward by the force of the attack. The abrupt bowing to Murphy's Law caused the Hyper Beam's attack line to alter. The energy attack missed the tyranitar's chest, just grazing the right side of his neck, the majority of it rushing past the great green creature. Tuesday didn't know how far it would travel before petering out, or if the Hyper Beam would continue until it struck something. If she'd had time to think about it, she might have been terrified at the prospect of it striking a person. Her mind was occupied, however, by the fierce roar of pain and rage the tyranitar released, eclipsed, somehow, by Zorro's whimper.

The hot energy of the Hyper Beam had been too much, singing his lips and the fur around his mouth, and the riolu had been blasted backward until he struck a tree firmly. Tuesday hadn't heard the snap of bone, by as she knelt near the riolu, she could see the odd way his right paw was twisted - an unnatural position that she feared attempting to correct on her own. The riolu's breaths were coming quick in pain, and Tuesday hoped it was only his paw that he had hurt during his crash.

"Odysseus, Aqua Jet!" Tuesday cried, recalling Zorro into his pokeball before he could do anything foolish and attempt to fight with a broken paw. The floatzel spat water and shot forward in a fierce attack as Tuesday gripped another pokeball, calling out Tempest for when the tyranitar was soaked and could be easily electrocuted into submission.

Except, that's not what happened.

The tyranitar had raised its great foot and stomped down on the ground, hard, and Tuesday had gasped at the trembling of the earth beneath her feet. The quaking. Her feet fled from beneath her and she toppled from balance, hearing cries of pokemon and human alike all around there.

There was an explosion of color behind her eyes as her head struck something hard and earthy and smelling like dirt, and the kaleidescope of brilliant crystal lights in her mind made the darkness that consumed her seem all that more profound in comparison...

Posted by: Master Houndoom May 30 2012, 12:48 AM

Mercury looked around the area where Nightwish had finally stopped. It was deeper into the woods than Mercury had expected, and she felt a chill, reminded of the experiences the group had been subjected to in the forest not long ago. Of course, Nightwish had not been part of that group the, so Mercury understood that the choice was not malicious.

In truth, the area had it's allure. There was an entire area of denuded earth with small divots where trees had been ripped out of the ground and, it seemed, dragged away. The boughs above met, providing shade from what would have been an otherwise open patch of sky. Obviously, a large pokemon had used this place as a nesting area.

Mercury turned toward her companion. Nightwish seemed to have been doing the same thing Mercury had; looking around, taking in the sights around the area.

Shall we begin, then? Mercury asked.

Nightwish' reply was couched in a cold tone, one that sent shivers up Mercury's spine. Yes, Wet's tawk, she said, slowly. Wet's tawk about how things awe going to be diffewent now that I'm awound...

Mercury swallowed, but continued on, hoping that Nightwish still wished to figure out what was permitted regarding each other's trainer. Tentatively, she put on what she hoped was a calming tone. Do these possible differences worry you, Nightwish..?"

Nightwish did not turn, but chuckled darkly. No, Mewcuwy, I'm not wowwied... Finally, she turned around. Her eyes were glowing an eerie purple color, and she raised a hand. You, howevew, shoud be...

* * * * *

The tents were packed.

They had decided to make as much time as possible after receiving the letter from Tuesday, and to give Mr.Postman a rest for the day. However, with Mercury and Nightwish off doing their own thing, there was now time to rest.

Meiko sat on a log, her chin in her had, as Jaima finished packing his backpack. She watched Chompwater as the feraligatr lay nearby, soaking up what little sun could be had under the deepening cloud cover, and sighed.

"You OK, Mei-chan?" Meiko gave a start and looked back. Jaima was behind her, holding out a sandwich, with another in his other had, presumably for himself. She took it, only now realizing she was hungry. However, when her train of thought returned, her appetite dissolved. She held the sandwich out in front of her, and, looking once again at Chompwater, sighed.

Jaima sidled close and leaned in. "OK, sugar... what's wrong?"

Meiko looked at him, then back at her sandwich. She knew guilt was written all over her face, and she almost wished that he was angry, or annoyed at the very least. Instead, it was only curiosity and a small amount of concern on his features. This meant that the only drive for her guilt was her own dilemma, and there wasn't even the chance to get angry at his misunderstanding her to distract her from it.

Not that that would help in the long run, I'd just feel guilty for not telling him in the first place, said a voice sounding much like the woman she currently called Mother.

"I've just been thinking," she muttered, trying to deflect the question, only to realize she didn't really want to try to avoid it. "I'm wondering if I should box Chompwater in Arthro Town, that's all."

Jaima was silent for a while, looking up at the heavy clouds which hung low in the sky. "You really think that's necessary?"

Meiko sighed. "Tuesday's scared of feraligatr, isn't she?" She looked over at Jaima, who's face had only changed in that the curiosity was no longer evident, unlike the concern. He was looking toward Chompwater now, so she followed his gaze in time to see her first pokemon's eyelid flicker.

Jaima, however, had noticed that the flicker was actually the large pokemon closing her eye when Meiko turned toward her. Before that, the look had not been one of agreement. "Yeah," he said, and opened his mouth to say more, when Meiko cut him off.

"So won't Chompwater make her... uncomfortable?"

Jaima chuckled, and Chompwater snorted heavily. "Yes, probably. But so did Ember, at first."

Meiko blinked up at him. "But... she was just a cyndaquil, I mean, so tiny--"

Jaima cut off her backpedaling, amused. "She told me in one of the letters we were writing back and forth that all of the evolutionary stages of the pokemon that had attacked her back then make her nervous."

Meiko sighed again. "But feraligatr-"

"Eat, sugar," Jaima admonished softly. She looked at her sandwich and, obligingly, took a bite, reminded once again that sh was actually hungry.

"Tuesday really wants to be a pokemon researcher," Jaima continued, and Meiko gave him a sidelong glance, half suspicious that Jaima had gotten her to take a bite to give himself time to make his point. "That's gonna be hard if there are certain species that she's freaked out over. Now, I made her a promise. If she wants help in getting over her fears, I'll help.

Meiko swallowed. "OK, but it's not our place to force that, Jaima."

"You're right, of course," he agreed quickly, "but it's also not our place to take those opportunities away, is it?"

Meiko's face went blank as she took another bite, so Jaima continued. "She needs to see a feraligatr who's been raised by someone good. Better if it's someone she trusts."

Meiko swallowed again, looking away. "I can't believe you're saying this. You're, like, Lord Overprotective."

She didn't see the look on Jaima's face, but he sounded far too amused. "Well, someone I trust once pointed out that Tuesday wasn't four, or even ten, but thirteen..."

Meiko's eyes narrowed into mock-dangerous slits as she turned toward Jaima. "I hate it when someone uses how smart I am to point out how dumb I'm being..."

* * * * *

Nightwish' first attack drove Mercury into a tree, knocking the wind from her briefly. The second missed, gouging a large truck out of the tree on Mercury's left. Mercury didn't wait for the third, disappearing and reappearing behind Nightwish. Nightwish, howver, only grinned. Oh, yes, I had fowgotten about that... Turning, her eyes scaled down into near blue, her face taking on a decidedly mean look to it, and Mercury felt as if a chain had wrapped around her chest. We can't have you wunning away back to camp to tattwe on us, can we?

Stop this! Mercury cried, sending her own psychic attack at the gothorita. Nightwish floated back from the force of it, but merely laughed despite the buffeting.

Ooo, I thought you'd nevah fight back! Scawed, wittwe Mewcuwy?

I don't want to hurt you, Nightwish, Mercury cried in earnest. Can't we just talk it out?

Nightwish' face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Can't we just tawk" she mocked back. Thinge awen't so easy fo you anymoah, awe they? Wife is suddenwy getting so hawd, and you can't run home to Shadow and yoah pwecious Twainew Jaima!"

Mercury's jaw clenched. You really think my life's been easy?! I watched my entire tribe get scattered, and my mother was killed in front of me! I was the reason that happened! Because some st-stupid trainer couldn't get past the color of my crest! I'm only alive and with Trainer Jaima because my mother's spirit lead him to me!

Nightwish' voice went cold, causing an almost physical chill to envelope Mercury. Leaves exploded up from the ground to dance chaotically behind the gothorita. At weast yoah mothew caewd enough to stick awound! My mothew weft me defenswess! And she was still awive! Behind her, around her, the leaves began to shimmer in different colors, attracting the angry gothorita's attention. Aw, cwap...

From all sides the leaves straightened and flew directly at Nightwish, nearly enveloping her like a cocoon. She floated straight up at her top speed, but the leaves followed her. A flash of light flared in the distance, and Nightwish plummeted to the ground, covered in shallow nicks and cuts. Mercury approached, two more groupings of leaves hovering behind her in a figure eight pattern. Now can we--

She cut off in a gasp as Nightwish' face roce, her eye glow now almost completely black. Her hand came up, also nearly enveloped in the same black hue. No, she snarled, sending the Dark Pulse directly at Mercury.

The thunder drowned out the resulting scream.

* * * * *

The sandwiches were eaten, but Meiko's mind was not as sated as her stomach. She looked around; at the charcoal gray sky; at Chompwater basking in either the waning sun or impending rain, or both; at Shadow meditating; at Grondir and Cosette playing together, the former giving the latter a ride on his broad back. She watched as Fang held court over Desertdancer, Tsunami, Eggheart, and Blazeclaw, the sandshrew and swampert seeming to play along while not taking things as seriously as the hapiny and torchic were.

Now that she thought about it, the luxray wasn't taking things overly serious, either.

Ember, alone, sat next to them, snuggled next to Jaima in a way that Chompwater hadn't been able to since she'd been a totodile. Jaima's hand rested on Ember's back.

"Tuesday was really nervous about Ember?" It hardly seemed possible. Even evolved, Ember was so very gentle.

"That's what she told me," Jaima answered.

Meiko pondered this, then spoke again. "And she's never met another person with a feraligatr?"

"Last one she saw, as far as I know, was from that dink who made it into a Shadow pokemon." Jaima's voice was tight, and Meiko felt her own jaw clench at the memory.

That's not entirely true.

Bother looked up at Shadow, who was still meditating nearby. Kohai Tuesday and Kohai Reilly fought someone with a pokemon similar to Chompwater, only smaller and stouter. A mental image came to both of their minds, cloudy yet clear enough to make out.

"That's a croconaw," Meiko piped up. "It's the middle stage of Chompwater's line."

I suspected as much, Shadow agreed. Kohai Tuesday was quite frightened, but, as you know, she pulled through admirably.[/i]

Jaima and Meiko shared worried looks, but Shadow continued. I concur with Sensei Jaima, Sensei Meiko. Tuesday should meet one of that species trained by someone kind, gentle, and noble, not across a battlefield.

Meiko pondered this, then stood and walked to where Chompwater lay. "What do you think?"

Chompwater opened her facing eye again, then, suddenly, her tail swung forward and knocked Meiko in the side, sending her staggering.

I believe she thinks you're being a little foolish, Shadow quipped. Over in the largest group, the three 'elder' pokemon watched as Eggheart heartily scolded in Chompwater's direction and Blazeclaw rolled and kicked his feet in trilling laughter.

"I got that, Shadow," Meiko droned, "thanks."

A sudden flare of lightning temporarily blinded most of those with their eyes opened, followed far too closely by a deafening clap of thunder. Jaima and Meiko straightened. "Maybe we should put a tent up again," Jaima said, still blinking the glare away.

"Good idea," Meiko answered instantly, already groping in the nearest backpack for a tent. Before long, and with the help of some pokemon, Jaima and Meiko got Jaima's tent back into service.

"Blazeclaw, Desertdancer, come inside now," called Meiko. Shadow, Ember, and Fang had already piled into the tent, unwilling or unable to stand the rain.

"Chic! Chica chica CHIC tor chicjha tor!" Blazeclaw hopped angrily on one foot, scowling in Meiko's direction, but before she could make it an order, a tiny pink appendage swatted Blazeclaw from behind.

"Hap ny pi ny HAP!" growled Eggheart, literally bullying the torchic into the tent, ignoring the tiny chick pokemon's complaints until he was well inside.

* * * * *

Mercury couldn't fight the panic rising in her chest. She knew she had left the clearing, knew that Nightwish was following her, keeping the Mean Look in effect, or simply allowing the kirlia to move out of the clearing in an attempt to make the situation even more tense. She also knew, by instinct, that she was not being herded toward the camp, but rather away from it. Everything else on her mind was discordant panic. If she had entertained any hope that being able to sense the pokemon using dark attacks would lessen her fear of them, those slim hopes had long since been dashed, like waves on a rock. She could physically feel the attacks striking around her, but there was no warning that the attack was being launched. An analytical part of her mind managed to realize that she could not even read the attacker's intent if the attack was dark in nature. The panicky part of her grabbed hold of that clear thought like a lifeline, begging it as if it were a separate entity to save them.

She was reminded that Ashleigh was dark, yet friendly, and no matter how dark Ashleigh had ever gotten, he had never hurt Mercury.

She was reminded that Shadow, too, could use such attacks, but would never hurt her with them.

She was reminded that the pokemon closing in on her was psychic, despite the dark attacks. A psychic like her. She could guess that, also like her, her opponent's mother had not been able to show her the Psychic Plane.

Mercury turned, suddenly, facing Nightwish, who was closer than the kirlia had believed. Before the other pokemon could react, Mercury reached out and gave a mental yank.

The two young women tumbled into an oddly decorated room. On one side, were black walls streaked with moving brush strokes of purple and pink, chaotic lines that twisted and moved on the black walls. On the other side, opalescent walls with sky-blue trim had manifested. On either side, separated only by this odd dichotomy, were a young girl clad in white with cyan hair, and another.

Mercury, the girl in white, peered at the girl across from her. In a short black dress festooned with bows along white lace ruffles on the fron, the girl's head whipped around, mussing her black hair, which was pulled into thick bunches at the sides.

"What is this pwace," the girl breathed, a hint of panic in her voice emphasized by the way her eyes and head darted back and forth.

Mercury could not answer at first. Even as she watched, the beautiful dress was becoming rags, the face, now turning away from her as the other girl turned around to inspect her side of the room, became streaked with red blemishes. The white lace grew dingy for no reason. Yet, Mercury had seen it; the other girl, presumably Nightwish, had been beautiful...

"It's the psychic plane," she said at last. "It's... it's all psychic pokemon's birthright. Our birthright." Mercury found that she could not tell a lie, not here, and wondered, briefly, if it was the plane magnifying a part of her own psyche, or if it were some outside source acting on her.

"Why did you bwing me hewe," Nightwish hissed, turning her ire toward the only other person in the space.

"To calm you down," Mercury answered, again, truthfully. "To stop you from attacking, so we can work this out-"

Nightwish had, once again, turned, and she had spotted a mirror on the black side of the room. She looked into it, touching her face, stroking her dress, absently, before turning angry eyes on the girl across from her. "And this is supposed to cawm me down? Showing me how ugwy I weawwy am? Showing me how beautifuh you awe, inside a pwace wike this?"

Mercury opened her mouth. Her first instinct was to slap back, verbally, but instead only a soft, plaintive, confused sentence sounded between them. "But... you weren't... you were so beautiful..."

"Nightwish stepped back as if struck. "You... yoah wying."

"I'm not. I can't," the blue haired girl admitted.

Nightwish snarled, her face twisting, the blemishes, now curling into deepening scars, twisting with it. She began to circle, and Mercury circled the same way. Neither noticed that, as the pair orbited each other, the room's colors shifted, keeping each young lady in their corresponding colors.

"Stop wying. You made this pwace."

Mercury shook her head, knowing words would do no good, but feeling compelled to try anyway, as the only other option was to renew the battle here. "No. I can't 'make' this place. I can only influence it, and only as easily as you can... look around you, Nightwish," she said, taking not of the changing colors now, "the space is changing, and I'm not doing anything--"

"Wyah!" Nightwish leapt across the room, tackling Mercury, her hands, curled like claws, reaching for the other girl's throat.

The violence of the attack broke Mercury's concentration, and Nightwish' patience, and the world around them shattered into reality.

Both pokemon were stunned by the sudden change in perception, suddenly aware that in the physical world they were being drenched in a heave downpour. Mercury, however, recovered much more quickly than Nightwish, having been in the Plane before and practiced at entering and exiting at will. She scrambled out from under the gothorita.

Nightwish, however, did not take as long to recover as Mercury had anticipated, and now the glow that had only been around her eyes was projected over her entire body like a malignant, writhing cloak. She screamed and raised her hand, sending a wave of black at Mercury, and the kirlia knew, by benefit of the contact in the Psychic Plane, that the other pokemon had been missing on purpose.

She was thrown back by the force of the Dark Pulse, and gasped, wondering if she had ever been hit by a dark attack before. It was cold, like the absence of all heat, all life, yet it hit like a wall. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that she would not stand another attack like that.

Nightwish was breathing heavily, floating over her and looking down at Mercury, who was huddled at the base of a tree, gasping for air. I was just going to wough you up a bit, you wittwe and she said a word that, thought Mercury didn't recognize it, she knew it was a very nasty word to call someone, but now? I think I'ww kiww you instead. Swowy. I can say a sabew-eye attacked us. Used mean wook to keep you fwom teepowting away. I bawewy made it out awive, and onwy aftew I coudn't pwotect you...

Mercury shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Trainer Jaima--

"Twainew Jaima" wiww be cwushed, of couwse. Maybe he'ww go seawching fo you. Maybe Meiko can be convinced not to wait in the meantime...

Tears streamed faster down Mercury's face. Trainer Meiko would never--

Nightwish' face sneered in an ugly twist. "Twainw Meiko" wiww do whatevew I want hew to! After a moment, however, the sneer turned into a genuine, if nasty, smile. But maybe I'ww wet "Twainew Jaima" stick awound a bit. It would be a shame to wet poah, poah Shadow wawwow awone in his sowwow. Maybe, just maybe, I'ww take yoah pwace...

Mercury's sobs came out as gaps as she shook her head. A few trees down, lightning hit a tall bough, lighting it on fire, even beyond the rain's ability to put it out for a time. Nightwish' face was obscured by the shadow the flames cast. She whispered, her mouth the only thing visible and grinning, Maybe we'ww name our fiwst hatchwing "Mewcuwy".

Somethig broke in Mercury's mind and heart, but not the way that she had expected it to. Instead, she could feel cold flames bursting forth in her thoughts, flames that turned to charcoal smoke. She felt herself sinking, not into the ground, not in despair, but in anger into the shadows.

TTThat's enough, Mercury whispered harshly, hearing with only a small part of her awareness the odd, echoing quality. She asked herself what this was, and answered herself, in a voice she knew she had only ever heard once, that it was another birthright, one that was just for her.

Tewepowting?! I thought I handwed that!

III'm not teleporting, answered the echoing, shifting voice. IIIt's called 'Shadow Sneak'.

Nightwish turned, seeing Mercury behind her just as the kirlia struck out with what seemed to be a hand wreathed in smoky purple-gray flames. The gothorita writhed as the flames touched her, crying out as she fell.

III can hurt you. You can hurt me. Let's end this before one of us does something she'll regret.

Oh, I won't wegwet this at aww, Nightwish snarled shakily. But as she turned, Mercury dipped into the shadow, even though it was slowly fading as the rain finally began to put the fire out.

Nightwish stiffened when Mercury's eerie new voice filled her ear from close behind her. III didn't mean you...

She hadn't yet turned when Mercury struck, and could only arch and scream as she fell.

* * * * *

The rain had been pounding heavily on the fabric of the tent for some time. Jaima's mouth was set in a grim line. All, save three, of his pokemon were in the tent with him and Meiko, and Meiko's own team was similarly shortened. She was leaning against Jaima's arm, no less worried, and, as it had been her own advice that they wait until the rain subsided a bit to search for the missing two, who wouldn't naturally seek out rain to sit in, she was feeling slightly more guilty as well.

These emotions gave way to surprise when a loud, wet 'pop' noise erupted in the tent, causing all inside of it to jump. Flighting right in the center, near the highest point of the tent's interior, was a dripping Mercury, looking weary and disheveled. Next to her floated Nightwish, very obviously fainted and no less mussed.

"Goodness," Meiko gasped, unwittingly imitating her father's wife as she dug into her bag for some towels.

"What happened," Jaima asked, as gently as he could. It was very obvious how worried he was, but he kept it in check, not wanting to add more stress to whatever ordeal the two had undergone.

A pokemon using Dark moves attacked, Mercury said in a shaking voice. I think Nightwish said something about a sableye...

Meiko gasped and took Nightwish from where she floated, wrapping her in a fluffy pink towel and handing a light blue one to Jaima, who did the same thing to Mercury.

"Why didn't you teleport back," Jaima asked. Mercury sounded guilty, chagrined.

I didn't think to until we were under attack, and the first thing that happened was a Mean Look, so we couldn't get away... She sighed. I was mostly useless... Nightwish did most of the fighting...

Meiko looked at Nightwish proudly, and Jaima looked at Meiko with gratitude. Shadow watched Mercury, however, a wary look on his face. She did not look back at him, but sent a message to him alone. Everything I said was literally true. I'll explain it to you later, I promise.

To the humans, she said, her voice full of true remorse, I'm sorry, Trainer Meiko, that she fainted... I couldn't... stop it.

Meiko reached out and stroked Mercury's crest. "It's all right, sweetheart," she said, gently. "You brought her back. You must have done all right if she fainted and you didn't..." the last part was said as the young woman looked down at the wrapped gothorita, her face worried, motherly, and proud.

Jaima, too, stroked Mercury's crest. "We're just glad you're both all right," he agreed. Then, looking up at the fabric, which the rain began to pound on more heavily, as if seeking to enter by force, if necessary, he sighed. "Looks like we're not going to get out of here until later, anyway. Maybe we should get some rest. Mercury, can you let Tsunami, Chompwater, Cosette and Grondir know?"

Mercury nodded wearily, but answered almost instantly. Chompwater says they'll take the guard duty tonight. After a short time, her face flushed. Grondir says not to do anything he wouldn't...

Jaima and Meiko both flushed as well, but set up sleeping bags, trying not to think of the implications of sleeping in the same tent.

It was notable, however, that though there was barely room to spare, neither of them moved to return the pokemon in the tent to their pokeballs.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Jun 3 2012, 10:57 PM

* "'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

"Tá sé gan chéill!"

"Cén chaoi a bhfuil muid a fhios ag an cuma ar Beast nach bhfuil ann?"

"Tost."

** "All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed."

"Ar mhaith leat a bheith ag teitheadh ó linn dóibh agus gach rud eile? Gach eile? Ár smaointe féin?"

"Táimid ag iarraidh. Bí ciúin, a bheith fós."

The thundering sound of hooves trembled the air, the sound of a whinny shrilled the cool sky.

*** “Do you know why this world is as abad as it is?...It is because people think only about their own business, and won't trouble themselves to stand up for the oppressed, nor bring the wrong-doers to light...My doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong that we have the power to stop, and do nothing, we make ourselves sharers in the guilt.”

"An bhfuil sí ag smaoineamh mar seo Máthair,? Is iad na lámha chomh géar ina chuimhne."

"Ní chuireann a chroí sruthán sin, mianach leanbh."

"Bogadh ar aghaidh, mo aingeal. Is féidir linn teacht ar fós chúis aon áit eile."

**** "The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve;
Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time."

"Fairy-am?"

A giggle. "Oh, le do thoil, a Mháthair is féidir, na cliatháin agam?"

"As go léir go labhraíonn sí aigne, glaonna seo dom chroí."

"Mar sin, beidh sé seo? Níl aon duine rudaí?"

"Lig sé a bheith amhlaidh."

"Tá sé mar sin."



The flutter of wing beats against the glass caused the boy's head to turn slightly. The rain still beat steadily against the glass, as it had been for two days now, and he had shut the window. It opened now, leaving room for the swellow to fly through, before shutting closed behind him.

"Mr. Postman," Brone said, by way of greeting. "You are well, I hope."

"Dripping, but in good spirits." The bird shook out his wings, chirped, and then fluttered further into the room. "I've a letter for you, Brone."

Brone didn't ask who the letter was from. If Mr. Postman was bringing it, then it was from his younger sister, Tuesday. He had been expecting a letter from her, although he had to admit he was surprised it hadn't come the day before. He had expected her response to be immediate, and the day's reprieve had given him little time in which to prepare a proper response to stem her curiosity. He did not think that he would find one had he months to prepare.

Removing the letter from the envelope and unfolded it, handing it to the kadabra waiting patiently beside him. She took the letter calmly and read it, while beside her, the boy's faded eyes seemed to focus on something far away.

Brone felt himself release a sigh, the words written in Tuesday's careful hand visible in his mind, through Cassandra's eyes. Polite as always, but very direct. Brone wished his sister would have such confidence speaking to people in person as she did when communicating through letters. She had a way of getting what she wanted when she knew that she was right.

"Apparently, she did not appreciate your dancing around the issue."

Brone reached over and slipped the letter out of Cassandra's hands, refolding it and replacing it in the envelope. "What issue?"

For a moment, he thought the kadabra would stomp her foot, her emotions of annoyance and aggravation paramount. Beneath them, however, he could detect a torrent of despair that could so easily undo him if she should ever let it out of her control.

"You cannot ignore this!" the kadabra demanded, sounding furious even though Brone knew she was far from it. Brone heard the hinges of the door squeak slightly against a breeze within his confined room and he tilted his head, reaching out with his mind and pushing the window panes open. A flutter of wings and Mr. Postman took to the air. He would probably be back tomorrow, or in a few days, but didn't want to be present for the argument he could see rising up again.

It had been going on for some time.

"Having me present is putting you in danger! It would be one thing if I was merely useless to yo--"

"You are not useless!"

It was the fact that he had yelled, and not his words, that caused her to go silent. Brone sighed again, placed a hand to his head as though in pain, and sat down on the edge of his bed.

From the other side of his room, he heard her whisper softly, "I can't protect you anymore."

Brone said nothing to this. There was nothing he could say that would change the fact that she was right. Cassandra had used her connection to the members of her Network of psychic comrades to keep an eye on Tuesday and her friends. During an encounter they'd had with a group that called themselves Team Deception, Cassandra had used her powers, stretched and leaping across this Network, to manipulate the forces around "Team Rogue" in order to ensure that they were not hurt by Team Deception's attempt to... dispose of them by use of a whirlwind attack. Although the psychokinetic interference was not strong enough over such a great distance to keep the group together, it saved their lives, and that was enough. The four trainers and their pokemon worked together, even apart, to regroup and were strengthened by the incident.

Cassandra, however, paid a price. The use of her powers at such a capacity, over such a distance, overtaxed them and weakened her considerably. Although she regained physical strength after a few days, her psychic abilities - all of her psychic abilities - remained out of reach. As a pokemon companion, she was what most trainers would refer to as a complete loss, a move-less pokemon who could be of no use in battle.

As a friend, a companion, to Brone, she was no less valuable than she had been. The only problem was that without her psychic powers, she could not erect the shields required to defend him should his own defenses be inadequate, as they could often be. She could not look into the future and foresee events to tell him of what was coming. She could not use her Network to see how his sister was doing, to be certain she was faring well. But most of all, she could not protect him from any danger that would come his way, be it human, pokemon, psychic, or emotional in nature. And she was as blind as a dark pokemon - unable to establish a link of her own, to see through Brone's eyes, or to speak to him, or anyone else. She was of no use as a psychic protector of a blind psychic prone to fits of epilepsy when protections were inadequate.

"There is nothing you can do for this, Brone." The defeat in her voice burned him from the inside out. He refused to turn around to face her, to let her see his expression. "You know they're right. I cannot protect you, Brone."

Brone braced his arm on the desk as he rubbed his face, trying not to hear her.

"Your mother said the doctor has another kadabra on site - Charlie. He's had dealings with psychic children before. He's a strong psychic pokemon. He'll be able to protect you. Please, Brone?"

Brone rubbed a hand over his face and tried to ignore the tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

"Please trade me for Charlie, Brone? Please?"



The first thing that Tuesday noticed upon regaining consciousness was the ache behind her eyes that foretold of a rising migraine. The second thing she noticed was two points of firm pressure, one on each shoulder, where something was pressing down on top of her. Opening her eyes caused the ache behind them to begin throbbing a steady tune to the beat of her heart, and she grimaced, squinting to try and see without allowing any more light to touch her eyes. Tuesday attempted to shrug off whatever was pressing down on her shoulders, but the force pushing against her only grew stronger at the action and twitched in movement, shaking her. She groaned, realized the sound of her own moans was dull, and yawned.

Her ears popped, rather painfully, making Tuesday's lips twist. The sound of dripping water came to her ears, however, followed by a very familiar barking cry.

"Riii!" The pressure on her shoulders shook again. "Luu! Rio rii!"

Fighting the force of exhaustion that caused her eyes to cross, Tuesday blinked and forced her lids back, peering at the world around her. It wasn't nearly as bright as she had thought - rather dim, actually - and the realization of this, or perhaps just her fully-opened eyes, caused the throbbing ache in her head to dull slightly. She sighed in relief and fumbled for control of her lethargic limbs. Her right arm swung up and she snagged her hand around Zorro's thin arm, stopping him from shaking her again.

The riolu's golden gaze moved to match her eyes and she could see the concern glistening there. There was no way, with their gazes locked, that she could miss the relief that rolled into view, nor the tears that threatened to fall.

"I'm all right, Zorro," she said, her voice cracking and hoarse. "Let me up."

The riolu leapt off of her quickly and moved to stand beside her, dancing from paw to paw in a nervous manner as she slowly got to her feet. The world didn't quite spin, but there was a feeling of things being off-center. Like she was standing in the center of a hallway, built on top of a rope bridge, which ran from one cliff edge to another across an expanse of twenty feet, and the wind was blowing.

... so the world wasn't quite spinning, but it was swinging a bit.

Standing up, she pressed the heel of both hands against her eyes, forcing the two orbs back within her skull, since the throbbing sensation in her head had obviously caused them to nearly jump out, and having dangly eyeballs would not be a good idea.

Probably especially not if she turned her head quickly in either direction.

Tuesday lips twisted into a grimace of disgust and she closed both eyes and clamped a hand over her mouth, waiting for the nausea to leave.

She knew better than to think of things like that. Gah...

There was a familiar chattering sound from nearby, to which she heard Zorro respond, and them Tempest's very familiar scolding. Drawing in a deep breath, Tuesday lowered her arm and opened both eyes, searching for her other two loose pokemon.

Odysseus stood next to a high cliff face, his arms crossed over his chest, deceptively calm. His eyes gave him away, though. They scoured the world around him, seeking danger in any form it might house itself.

Tempest was nearly so desperate to make herself appear nonchalant. She stood across from Odysseus, her eyes narrowed in anger, both long ears flattened down her back. Her tail was twitching eratically and the fur of her back stood on end as she squeaked angrily at the floatzel.

For his part, despite his obvious discomfort with their current setting, Odysseus wasn't doing anything to hide his amusement at how the pikachu was acting. His sleek-furred lips were pulled up in a smirk as the yellow rodent ranted and raved.

Tuesday smiled as she walked over to them. She caught the precise moment when both pokemon realized she was there. Odysseus' head didn't move but his eyes did, snapping to her face like twins flakes of steel called to a magnet.

Tempest wasn't nearly so subdued. Her head twisted, both ears springing upward and forward, and her chocolate eyes widened. With a startled cry, she dashed forward until she had leapt upward onto Tuesday's shoulder and was nuzzling her head against her neck.

Tuesday smiled at Tempest, scratching the back of her neck with a hand. "I must have been out for a while, if you're this worried, 'Pest."

"Chu," the pikachu murmured against her neck.

"Your family was quite worried for you."

Tuesday jumped, letting out a high-pitched squeak of surprise (or perhaps that had been Tempest, when she toppled from Tuesday's shoulder). Spinning around, she stooped and grabbed Tempest in both hands, pulling the stunned pikachu to her chest as she caught sight of the woman who had been standing behind her.

She wasn't frightening in appearance, and that's what gave Tuesday pause. That's what kept her from moving any closer, even at the woman's cheerful smile. She was beautiful; her skin pale to perfection, dressed in a long, white gown that fell down her body, conforming to ever curve and pooling at her feet like a silken puddle. Her hair was long and rolled over her shoulders and down her back in waves, wrapped in thin green fabric that was so light it was nearly transparent. Her smile was gentle and soft, like the loving expression on the face of a mother greeting her daughter home after she's been gone so long, or a much older sister who's been away at school for half a year and feels she's missed half their younger sibling's life.

The smile was gentle and kind and loving, and it was everything that Tuesday would want to see in someone that loved her.

But the eyes.

The eyes hid... they hid something behind the glimmer-glimmering... behind the glimmering of crystals... in the refractions of light... behind the... the... the eyes were so kind... they were so kind and they told her that something... something was being hid-no... no, the eyes were kind... kind eyes and a kind woman. Kind eyes that looked at her as though... as though they loved her, they had missed her.

They were kind eyes (my eyes are kind, child) and they held no lies (the only truth is what I tell you, child).

The woman could be trusted (See what I want you to see.) She could trust her (You can trust me).

The woman wouldn't hurt her.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Jun 20 2012, 02:24 AM

Six of the inhabitants of the tent were asleep. Two of them, however, had stayed up, out of diligence, out of a promise, and out of the sheer desire to be together, even though their upbringing spoke against it. It wasn't time for anything more right now. She was too young, he was too unsure of himself, as wasn't exactly aged and wise either.

Shadow looked down at where Sensei's Jaima and Meiko lay together, her curled in his arms, sleeping close together, and wished, just for a little while, that it would be as easy for him and...

He couldn't even think it right now. It was as if it were too odd, too out of the ordinary. But, he could tell as he looked across at Mercury, that it would be more than thinkable soon.

A poke for your thoughts.

Besides thinking that we don't use money? Right now, I'm thinking you've forgotten I can hear you when you think came the pink-tinged thought. Her aura was shot through with vermillion, as well, and Shadow felt his own muzzle heat up in sympathetic response. He was confident it wouldn't be seen, as his fur was much too dark to show any changes in his skin.

I'm sorry, little Mercury...

Mercury waved a hand, not turning away from the door. I'd be lying badly if I said I was anything less than pleased about it, she admitted. Her voice sounded anything but pleased, and she seemed to know, because before Shadow could think his reply, a feat of prowess when a conversation takes place at the speed of thought, Mercury sighed. Today's just weighing on my mind too much to show it...

Shadow moved toward her, and Mercury tensed. Her aura once again swirled with vermillion, but also with golden threads of forbidden anticipation. Shadow put his hand on her thin shoulder, fulfilling the anticipation despite the less than intimate touch. I know you want to talk about it...

Mercury's shoulders slumped. No, I really don't. I have to, though... you need to know what happened, and why, and I don't want to hold anything back from you as it is... Mercury's mental voice shook, and she took a few deep breaths. It's important to me that you trust me completely, and that I earn that trust, that I never do anything to lose it-

I do. I always have.

Mercury finally did turn, looking over her shoulder with a slight smile. That's sweet... but I'm not even sure I trust me right now...

Shadow said nothing, only watched her, and Mercury turned fully to face him, sitting in a mirror of his posture; on their knees, resting all the way back on their heels (though he possessed digitigrades hind legs, and the closest structure to an ankle was the hock, which was a in a place equivalent to half way up a human calf, and she had neither knees nor ankles), in a manner not unlike many Asian cultures sit.

They looked at each other, Shadow waiting patiently, and Mercury taking time to steel herself for what she was certain would be news that would cause him to be disappointed in her.

Nightwish took me into the forest, under the pretense of discussing protocol between us concerning Trainer Jaima and Trainer Meiko... She closed her eyes, the suddenness of the subsequent events and her naïveté still affecting her. She attacked me. She... Mercury swallowed reflexively, and Shadow's face set into grim lines, his jaw clenching.

She used dark attacks...

Mercury nodded, her eyes on his. You knew?

I did. She attacked an ice pokémon with them in the caverns during the meteor event. Shadow looked away, fresh shame bubbling up into his consciousness. I never imagined she would attack an ally, even with the tension between you...

Mercury waved his regret away. Her evolution has put her in a state, I think... she'd been preventing it for a long time. To Shadow's surprise, tears formed in Mercury's eyes. She, too, seemed mildly surprised at them. She's very hurt, Shadow... wounded, deeply... she's been used before, and has defended herself in the only way she could... and now she's found someone she believes she can trust, but feels that she... has been foiled by her evolution...

How do you know this, Mercury? Shadow was confused, but also awed. She had been attacked, and with powers that have terrified her for most of her life, and yet she felt compassion for the one that did it.

Mercury towed with the skirt-like folds at her knees. I dragged her into the Psychic Plane... I could see it, metaphorically and plainly. She believes she's ugly, but... she's not. She swallowed. And I was compelled to be honest with her, even though I knew she wouldn't believe me... I think she needs to know... She couldn't continue, putting her hand to her eyes briefly. Shadow leaned forward, touching the top of her head, between her horns, and before either of them could tells something was going to happen, it already had.

They were in a parlor, sitting at a table, very close yet also very aware that they could get no closer. Shadow was in a formal hakama, blue gi top with black pants that flared to nearly triangles, narrow at the waist but widening until they were very wide at the ankles. Mercury was in a short dress fit for a teenage debutante, but conducting herself much more maturely than she appeared able to.

"I'm sorry!" Mercury's face crumpled under her blue hair. "I... I was thinking of the Plain, I must have pulled you in!"

"It is all right, Mercury-san," Shadow said, his voice deep and even. "It is probably easier to speak here."

Mercury's shaking hands raised to compose herself, but she nodded, conjuring tea from thin air and, unconsciously, preparing it directly from images she had seen in both Meiko and Jaima's minds, a complicated ceremonial preparation that, as she was in a mental plane, she performed flawlessly as her memory showed her. Shadow smirked, but said nothing, complementing her on the tea.

"We can bring others with psychic abilities here if we know them well enough. I had hoped, one day, to bring Lady here..." Mercury swallowed. "Nightwish and I can come at will. Cassandra told me that it was our birthright as psychics... but I wo-"" She cut herself off.

"What is it, Mercury-san?"

Mercury sighed. "Toward the end of our fight, I.. did something... something that hurt Nightwish just like her dark attacks could hurt me..." Shadow tilted his head, but said nothing. "The energy wasn't Dark energy... I could sense it... but it was cold... and lonely somehow..." She squinted at the memory, as if she still could not understand what she had done. "I think it was..."

"Can you do it again?"

"I have never done an attack in the Plane," Mercury said, thoughtfully. "Besides, we're really in a tent... but I think if I show you the memory, you can see it as if you had been there..."

Shadow nodded, and Mercury closed her eyes. Behind her the wall disappeared, and an diorama appeared, then began to move. Shadow got up, fascinated as Mercury faded into shadows that were only visible in flickers of light and fire, only to reappear behind Nightwish in a devastating attack.

"It's ghost energy... I can sense it quite well..."

"But I'm not a ghost, Shadow..." Mercury's voice sounded horrified and worried. Shadow smiled.

"No, but it's very possible it was passed down to you. I can... sense an affinity for it in you... it's not unheard of. One of the Nurses has told Sensei Jaima that my father passed some things down to me, not just a calm attitude, but also some methods of attack I wouldn't have known otherwise..."

Mercury's shoulders slumped in relief. "I.."

"You're not evil, Mercury. It may not have been the best situation to be in, but you are not evil..."

Mercury looked at Shadow, another tear dropping down her pale skin from her deeply blue eye. "Then if I'm not, then neither is Nightwish." Shadow opened his mouth to protests, but Mercury put a soft finger against his lips. "No. She isn't. But she needs a friend. She needs all of my friends and myself..." She looked him in his green eyes, willing him to understand. "It's the one thing I've had that she hasn't... It's the reason I'm not like her now. Please, Shadow... help me, like you've helped me reach out to Lady..."

Shadow's lips curled down, but he sighed. "All right. But if she hurts you again, and I see it..."

"I will handle it."

Shadow sighed. "Yes, Mercury, but I reserve the right to be quite miffed at her. Annoyed, even."

Mercury smiled, then, looking at his eyes, leaned forward.

"Man, I didn't think we'd sleep that long..."

"Mm... Jaima..? Where's your hand?"

"Huh? One's under my head, and the other's between two pillows..."

Mercury and Shadow left the Plane, blushing, but were pulled out of their embarrassment by the potential for their trainers, as Meiko said, mortified, "Jai-chan..? Those aren't pillows..!"

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Aug 19 2012, 10:56 PM

"We're so glad you made it here safely. We were beginning to worry, what with that storm striking as quickly as it did. We feared you might be detained."

The storm. Right. Tuesday remembered the lightning, and how it rained almost constantly, the thunder so loud it seemed to shake the world right out from beneath her feet. "It was ferocious," she agreed quietly. Somehow, she felt that there was more than just the storm that had been ferocious and if she could just recall it, but then the woman was speaking again.

"Well, you're here now and that's all that matters." She clapped her hands together delicately. "And we've a feast prepared for you and everything. I'm so very excited."

Tuesday nodded, but there was a frown across her lips that the woman didn't miss. "Is something the matter, dear?"

She looked up at the woman, who was giving her such a look of concern that it was impossible to ignore. "I'm sorry but... I don't know who you are."

The woman looked at her in a way that seemed both gentle and piercing at once. Tuesday felt a deep relief within her heart, and yet her breath caught in her lungs. She swallowed her confusion and shook her head discreetly.

"I have not yet introduced myself." There was something unspoken there, a whisper of disapproval that didn't quite reach her ears. Tuesday got the impression that she was supposed to know who this woman was instinctively. That she didn't was both disturbing and disappointing to her hostess.

"I'm sorry," Tuesday murmured, her voice growing soft in her confusion. She didn't feel quite right, and her hand fluttered at her temple.

The woman's gaze softened. "No, I apologize, my dear. You took such a fall, I should not have expected all to be well. I intend to have your family looked at. Your hound is injured."

"Oh, Zorro!"

Tuesday spun around so suddenly the world tilted for a moment. She kept her balance and ignored the ominous greying of the world at the edge of her vision, rushing over to the riolu and crouching down before him. She couldn't believe she had forgotten that he had been injured! She was his trainer and that meant she was supposed to protect him and make sure that he was well-cared-for when he was hurt. There were no excuses great enough for her to have failed in that.

It was clear in the set of Tuesday's shoulders and the slits her eyes had narrowed into that she was furious and berating herself. Even with that self-recrimination bubbling at the rim of her consciousness, her hands were gentle as he held Zorro paw in her own and ran her fingers lightly down his forearm.

"I'm so sorry, Zorro," Tuesday murmured as she pressed gently against the bones of his arm, searching for the break she was certain was there. "I shouldn't have forgotten. I should have made sure you were taken care of first. Instead, you were worried about me."

Zorro's golden eyes widened at the self-directed rage and he shuffled forward softly, forcing Tuesday to let go of his arm or risk harming him. With her not hindering him, Zorro lowered his muzzle and pressed his forehead against hers, until she had to press back to keep from being knocked backward. Neither of them pulled back for a moment, and so their heads didn't separate and smack back together. Zorro pressed his forehead forward and Tuesday pressed hers back with the same force, until the two of them were just sitting there, motionless, eyes tied to each other.

There was a desperation in Zorro's eyes that burned through Tuesday. She felt, as though held within her very soul and summoned forth by his gaze alone, a deep, pulsing gratitude. It was followed by trust and peace and friendship and hope and a love so warm she was certain that somehow he had hugged her without even moving.

She closed her eyes and felt the tears slip down her cheeks. Her face was warm and she bowed her head to keep him from seeing.

But then his arms were both around her neck and he was hugging her tight, and it didn't really matter if he saw her tears or not. He was all right, and he trusted her, and loved her.

She was all right.

"Come, child." The woman's touch was a mere brush against her shoulder, but Tuesday rose quickly, wiping her eyes and turning toward the woman. "Come, and I will take you and your hound to aid."

The woman turned and walked off, and Tuesday followed.

They moved through a vast castle of white stone a marble. It was beautiful and larger than any building that Tuesday had ever seen, decorated in vast paintings and golden statues and deep red rugs. If asked, however, Tuesday would not have been able to describe even one of these rugs' patterns. It simply didn't seem to matter, and so the image slipped her mind.

That was very odd for her.

Tuesday followed the woman up a long set of stones steps and into another room. They had passed no one else during their short walk and so she was surprised to see someone here waiting for them. It was a tall man, with beautifully pale skin and fair hair that fell down his back like a golden waterfall. He was dressed in a white suit with gold-green trim, and with the ivy circlet pressed against his forehead and curving around his skull, holding his hair in place, Tuesday could see his pointed ears.

She found she was oddly not surprised, yet a thrill went through her. Elven folk! Was she dreaming?

"Ah, mo bhean álainn, you have brought her. Excellent. The young man who has agreed to help us has also arrived."

The man made an extravagant gesture with his hand to the boy standing on his right. Next to the man, the boy seemed dirty and unkempt, but Tuesday thought she must appear a stingy slop next to the woman. Besides, she knew the boy, and while his hair was constantly mussed and his jeans were often covered in dirt from his travels, he was not filthy.

"Reilly!" she called in surprise.

The boy looked up and, upon seeing her, his smile widened until it all but consumed his face with a furious hunger. "Tuesday!" he cried in delight, and Tuesday, for her part, blinked stupidly.

She had been expecting "Runt," or "Puny," or even "Brat." Not her name. She watched in confusion as the delight on Reilly's face lessened, replaced by confusion, and his smile slipped into a frown. Only once his arms started to move downward did she realize that he had raised them, as though expecting a hug.

She frowned at him, confused, her worry beginning to grow. Why would Reilly be expecting a hug from her, of all people?

"My apologies, dear one, for not warning you sooner." Tuesday looked up at the woman who had been escorting her to find that she was addressing Reilly, not her. "Your comhpháirtí suffered a head injury upon her arrival here and has been somewhat addled since she entered our abode. I expect she only needs a bit of time to reaclimate herself to reality."

"She was pulled so swiftly between reality and dreams, it is no wonder. Fear not, my lady, you will be well soon."

"That's... good to hear." Tuesday looked again at Reilly and saw his hopeful expression. She could only offer him a smile and hoped it didn't look as forced as it felt, pulling her lips. Considering the grin she recieved in answer, he was apparently easily fooled. She didn't know whether or not she should feel relieved by this.

The woman clapped her hands together delightedly. "I promised your hound healing, did I not? And introductions are in order, as they have not yet occurred." Tuesday almost missed the look shared between the man and woman, but she said nothing. "Both can, thankfully, be accomplished at the same time. Sláine!"

A woman appeared out of the shadows that weren't there. She was tall, but slight, thinner even than Tuesday and all but a wraith for it. Her movements were not weak, however. Her steps were silent and she moved with the same grace as Tuesday's escort, her arms not swinging, but shifting delicately with her body's motion. She was dressed in a thin white gown that fluttered with every motion, a ring of ivy leaves about her neck and long, dark brown locks falling down her back.

When she reached the woman who had summoned her, she bowed gracefully. "You called, your grace?"

"My lady," the man said, "may I introduce Sláine, our resident healer. She has much skill in the arts of mending hurts and will be more than happy to lend her hand to your hound if you should allow it."

Tuesday blinked in surprise. "If I should allow it?"

"But of course!" the woman cried. "We would never dream of taking your hound from you without your permission. He is yours, after all. It would be terrible of us to steal him away."

This seemed odd to Tuesday. There was something about it that made her want to refuse the help, to keep Zorro close. Better still, she wanted to take her riolu and flee this place and these strange people and their odd way of saying things without saying things. Leave it all behind and run.

"It is up to you, child," the man said, turning his pine green gaze upon her, "but I do not wish for your hound to be injured, so I do hope you will not let him traipse about with a broken paw."

Tuesday felt something constrict within her heart. The idea that she would hurt her pokemon, or allow them to remain hurt. The thought that she would ever willingly cause them pain. Her thoughts moved to her sister, Anika, and the pokeball she had kept Dante in for days merely because she did not like fire-types. And then she thought of the time she had kept her own pokemon, both Dante and Tempest, trapped in their pokeballs for days, for fear that she would be terrified of them should she let them out. How could she be so cruel?

"Go... go with Sláine, Zorro," Tuesday said, her voice cracking as she tore her gaze from the man's green eyes. She swallowed thickly and met the worried eyes of her riolu. She could see the reluctance burning in his gaze. "I don't want you hurt. Go."

"I may take him, my lady?"

"I don't want him hurt," Tuesday said, nodding. Her throat was still thick and she didn't want to talk anymore.

"But I may take him?"

The woman, Sláine, was holding out her hand, as though waiting to take Zorro's paw until she had precise permission. That feeling again, of something being off, or wrong, filled Tuesday, but she pushed it to the side. She never felt right when she remembered that time, when her pokemon were at her mercy. But Sláine clearly needed to take Zorro elsewhere to heal him, and Tuesday wouldn't have him injured any longer than necessary.

She nodded stiffly. "Yes."

The smile that she was rewarded with was kind. On the surface. She could see that.

But beneath it... like water, it was calm and gentle on the surface, a raging maelstorm beneath. Sick, twisted, and wrong.

Tuesday opened her mouth to call Zorro back, to tell the woman that she had changed her mind. She didn't want him anywhere near Sláine.

"I haven't yet introduced you, dear ones, to my husband and myself."

Something whispered against Tuesday's left ear and she turned. Her eyes were met again by a deep green gaze and she felt trapped.

"I am Flaithrí, dear ones, king of this realm. My wife and queen is Áine."

That name rang a zillion bells in Tuesday's mind, but none of them were loud enough to break through the hum of noise that had begun to surround her ears. Her eyes were locked on those green-green and she couldn't have looked away had Reilly burst into flame. Nothing else mattered but those green eyes and the gentle humming chant that had begun to fill her ears.

"We are most pleased you have granted us your presence and that you have called so promptly."

("You are Tuesday Ilia Berdison.")

(Laoch. Trodaí.)

"We feared you might decline, knowing what awaited you here."

("You have come to aid us.")

"And what awaits us?" Tuesday asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper, forced out through lips that barely moved.

(Beidh tú gach ní a iarraidh orainn.)

"The ollphéist, Glaurung. He haunts us as he hasn't for years, awakened from a deep slumber. We cannot stop him ourselves and we need your help."

Something fluttered on the edge of Tuesday's mind. The name was a familiar sound, haunting and melodious to her ears. If she heard it again, surely she would know whom it belonged to. Surely she would known of whom they spoke. From where the name hailed.

("You are here to help us.")

Tuesday blinked and noted idly that the name was strange. She'd never heard it before.

(Beidh a fhios agat go léir go deirimid go bhfuil fíor.)

"We cannot defeat him on our own, but you're experienced hunters. We have heard many sing your praises and we know that you can slay the dragon."

"Of course we will help you," Tuesday said, and she smiled at the pair of them. "We wouldn't dream of refusing.

("You will not leave until your duty is complete.")

Tuesday stepped over to stand next to Reilly, taking his hand in hers. "Simply tell us where we need to go and we'll finish this."

The two returned her smiles, pleased and grateful and relieved beyond her comprehension. She was glad to help them. She and Reilly had experience in dragon-slaying. After all, they'd been doing it for years. Running side-by-side since they were children and fighting monsters as they grew older, both separated from the families that had tried to push them together, now that they were finally old enough to marry.

Ironic, really, but it didn't matter.

Tuesday squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture.

"When shall we begin?"

(Mbaineann tú a chur chugainn anois.)

Posted by: Master Houndoom Sep 12 2012, 03:00 AM

The pair walked together. That was, somehow, more important than the rain, more important than the fact that they had woken up in less than comfortable circumstances. After all, finding out you had been unconsciously groped, or unconsciously groping, was the premier recipe for awkwardness. It helped, though, that when all had been sorted out, Jaima had discovered that his errant hand was actually between the sleeping forms of Eggheart and Blazeclaw, and what Meiko had worried had been proof of her boyfriend's unconscious perversion was actually her own hand, rendered insensate from the awkward position her arm had been in, which had restricted blood flow.

Meiko was more mortified than Jaima had been at the time, and they had hurriedly packed the tent. It did not escape Meiko's notice that along with the sense of shame she'd had for assuming that Jaima had taken liberties in the night was an equally powerful sense of disappointment that he hadn't.

But they walked together, and there was no anger, no shame, no mortification and perceptions, both correct and incorrect. There were no worries of what the other was thinking.

The rain poured down still, though it wasn't a storm per se. The rain was straight, and there was hardly any breeze to be had. But it was cold, and still heavy enough to make protective clothing necessary. They had, at one point, tried to hold hands, but that had been abandoned as the temperature of the rain made keeping their hands safely pulled into the sleeves of the waterproof jackets a more desirable option. Neither had thought to repurchase gloves which had been lost in the forest outside of Petropolis.

But they were together, and that made all the difference in the world.

The two had opted to walk when it became obvious that the rain would not stop. It was one thing to flee a heavy downpour, but another altogether to delay a trip for the matter of a small amount of wet. Besides, as much as they were beginning to see the pleasures of traveling as a couple, they began to miss the companionship of their group. There was, as yet, no word from Darryn regarding when, or if, he would rejoin them, but Tuesday was waiting for them, or would be, in a small town, and they were eager to see her.

It was Meiko who stopped first, Jaima a second after. When he looked back, she had a look of discomfort that, for anyone who'd travelled anywhere with shy people, told Jaima everything he needed to know. He smiled, tilted his head toward the forest, and, perhaps politely, turned around so that he wasn't facing the direction she had skittered off to.

Tsunami was enjoying the rain, as was Grondir. Chompwater had, of course, walked off to be with Meiko as she separated from the group, but Cosette had instead chosen to stay behind with Grondir, it seemed.

He hadn't waited long before a vehicle pulled up. It was small, one of those new smart cars, barely large enough to fit four people. Jaima watched as it approached, noting the occupants idly. All three of them were girls, about his age, perhaps a little older. The driver was a girl with long, straight light blue hair. Next to her, talking animatedly, was another girl with hair nearly as red as Meiko's, only shorter, except for a braid long enough for her to hang over her shoulder and play with in her hands in front of her. Behind them was a girl with blonde hair that didn't quite touch her shoulders.

The car began to slow as they approached, and then the redhead looked up and squealed. It wasn't just that her mouth was stretched to make an "eeeeee" noise, or that she pointed and jostled the driver. It was that the noise was loud enough to hear even though the closed windows. As was the muffled sound of the driver scolding her friend.

"But it's him!" The sound was clearer, now. The redheaded girl had rolled down the window. The driver didn't stop, however. "No, stop! That's the guy Luke Ario was talking about!"

The car had passed, but not so far to keep Jaima from hearing the girl shout, "That's Jaima Kwonji!"

The car stopped suddenly, then, using its small size, did a three point turn and came back to where Jaima was standing.

"Hey," the blue haired girl in the front seat called, rolling down her own window. "Are you Jaima Kwonji?"

Jaima smiled, a bit thinly, but a smile none the less. "It's pronounced Kuonji," he said, emphasizing the ku syllable before speaking the onji one.

"Ah, yes. I'm Wendee, this is Julie," she said, pointing to the redhead. Julie waved, her smile as wide as her blue eyes. "And that," Wendee continued, pointing behind her to the backseat, "is Ellen." The blonde girl waved shyly. Her eyes, too, were wide, but Jaima didn't know if that was because she was intimidated, or because her glasses were magnifying them.

"We were wondering, Mister Koo-ongee, if you needed a ride?" Julie leaned forward, looking up at him through her bangs. Jaima didn't look very hard, but he thought maybe she might have been pushing out her chest. Frankly, it was hard to know the difference. Wendee sighed and pushed her back by the shoulder.

"What my grace-challenged friend means to say is that the sports caster, Luke Ario? He has... well, he's been watching your very illustrious, very exciting career, and he's suggested that if someone were to run into you, they should offer you a ride. And, well, thanks to Julie's very good eyes," Julie batted her eyes to emphasize Wendee's point, "Here we are. It's only right to help an up and coming Champion, don't you think?"

Jaima squatted down, Grondir coming up to one side to offer (unneeded) support. The car was short, and he had been right. There was very little room in there. He could, possibly, sit in the back seat, next to Ellen, who so far had not said anything, but looked hopeful. There would be no room for Meiko.

Unless she sat in his lap. He briefly allowed himself a smile before noticing the girls.

Julie's eyes had half hooded, and she was leaning toward him, her arms holding her up on the middle of the seat between her and Wendee, biting her slightly. Wendee was looking at him with heavily lidded eyes as well, her back straight, perhaps even arched. Both girls were doing everything they could to subtly bring attention to their chests. Ellen, in the back, looked at him with wide eyes full of hope. It didn't take someone who'd read a lot of manga in his day to know what they were up to.

And Jaima had read a lot of manga in his day.

"You know, I wouldn't mind getting out of the rain," he said, instantly kicking himself mentally when Julie giggled in glee, "but I'm not travelling alone. Not to mention -" a roll of thunder, far enough away to not quite be startling, but loud enough to temporarily block sound in the cramped car, sounded off. It didn't last long. A word, maybe two. "- pokémon has fainted, and that's always kind of a drag, you know?"

Ellen moved quickly, the motion of which set off Jaima's reflexes. He started, but she was holding a small, star shaped pale yellow crystal to Wendee. Wendee smiled. There was something about that smile that made Jaima's mouth twist down briefly.

"Ellen is our resident... pharmacist. She's generously offering a revive for your friend's pokémon. As for the size of the vehicle... well, I'm sure we'll find a way to make us all fit, hmm?"

Jaima definitely didn't like the sound of that. The image he'd had of Meiko on his lap in a cramped back seat suddenly turned into three women rubbing up against him and Meiko crying. The first part would have been a temptation, had he been single. Or more of a jerk. But the second part took the wind out of that sail.

"You know," Jaima said, trying to at least keep things friendly, "we're actually heading to a little village, and there's sure to be a pokécenter there..."

"Oh, please. It's not a big deal, and Ellen is giving it freely, if that's what you're worried about..."

"No, really. I know how expensive those are-"

"Well then," Wendee's voice went low, and Jaima could swear Julie purred. "Maybe you can make it worth our while."

Jaima nearly stood up. He began the motion, but felt a hand on his back and stopped. Surprised.

Julie raised a brow. "Your friend is here?"

"Yeah. She's right behind me."

"Well, then g- Wait. She?"

Meiko stepped out from behind Jaima. And then Julie opened her mouth.

"You're traveling with Vomit Girl?!"

"Oh, boy." Jaima sighed. Wendee turned and scowled at Julie. Ellen, slightly panicked, rolled down her window and thrust her hand out, still holding the revive.

Meiko looked at her, scowling.

"Please," Ellen said. "He said your pokémon fainted, and..." She swallowed. "My pokémon faint all the time... I don't like it. I have lots of these..."

It might have been her soft, trembling voice, or the sincerity, but Meiko reached out and took it, walking slightly away from the car to administer the revive to a single pokéball. A pokéball that opened, releasing a gothorita, who opened her eyes... and recoiled.

I'm sowwy, ok, I'm sowwy!

Meiko blinked at her. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about. You saved Mercury out there... I just wish you'd called for help, that's all.

Nightwish gaped, but Meiko was looking at Jaima now, and past him, and the ire and anger she felt when she'd woken up was back in full force.

"I don't think we'll be taking that ride, ladies. Thanks all the same." There was a hint of coolness in Jaima's voice that told Meiko he wasn't happy, or, worse than that, tempted. She walked up next to him and looked coldly at the girls in the car.

Wendee sneered. "Fine."

Wendee sneered.

Meiko sighed. She didn't need for Nightwish to confirm it psychically, but a look at the gothorita confirmed Meiko's suspicions.

"Wait here, please," Meiko said, a mild tone of her voice hiding her ire. "I'm going to thank those girls for their... help." She had smiled at Jaima when asking, but when she turned, the smile had hardened into something considerably less pleasant.

The driver watched her approach, squaring her shoulders for what she knew was an inevitable confrontation. The girl in the back seat took her glasses off and cleaned them, hurriedly. In the passenger seat, the girl sporting red hair watched curiously, before noticing the nasty sneer on her blonde companion's face, and then busied herself trying to match it.

Meiko waited politely until the window was opened, but did not allow the blonde girl to start speaking. "Thank you for the offer of the ride. It was also very nice to give a revive for my pokémon."

The blue haired girl smiled, a smile so forced it looked like a doll's, save for the very real malice in the girl's eye. "Oh, it's all right, dear. Not everyone can afford to take care of their pok-"

"Please," Meiko said softly. There was no mistaking the steel hidden by the silk in her tone. "Allow me to finish."

No one, it seemed, had ever interrupted the driver, because her mouth clapped shut, and her passengers gaped.

"I know what you were trying. I could see it a mile away. Now, my Jaima would never fall for that in a million years. But if I ever catch you trying it again, I'll..."

Meiko's tone never wavered. Her voice never rose from the conversational tone she'd maintained since she'd begun talking. Anyone out of earshot, to see her, would have thought that she was giving the three girls directions, or commenting on the weather. The three in the car, however, could hear her. The mousy, bespectacled girl in the back seat began to tear up, sinking lower and lower, and once gave off a quiet, keening sound. In the passenger side, the redhead's eyes widened, and she pushed back against the door, mouth agape and hand clutching her throat. The driver gave the least reaction, but after a time she stopped trying to interrupt, her own eyes bugging out when the Japanese girl turned her attention to the obvious ring leader. It would have been quite obvious that the expressions were due to the feraligatr peering into the car, except that Chompwater looked almost as surprised as the three girls.

There was a popping sound, and Mercury popped out of her pokéball. Nightwish was already floating close by, and had in fact backed up slightly. Mercury rose even with her, and, slowly, her face began to match The gothorita's, with a little less awe, and a little more surprise.

Did you help her with this? Mercury asked, quietly even in mental speech. Nightwish shook her head, then swallowed thickly.

Thank you foe not tewwing hew what weawwy happened in the fowest...

It ended with a cheerful, "and they will never, ever, find the bodies. OK?" Then, almost as an afterthought, she looked back at Ellen, who was still cringing in the back seat. "Except you. You're OK."

Meiko calmly turned and walked back toward Jaima. Mercury hurriedly returned herself to the pokeball, and Nightwish merely followed along, oddly subdued. The car suddenly lurched, speeding off in the direction it had come, fishtailing slightly in the mud.

Jaima's mouth was agape, and Meiko flushed red. "What?"

"'My Jaima', huh?"

Meiko grinned. "Yeah. And don't you forget it, buster..."

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Oct 8 2012, 04:01 AM

Tuesday wasn't really hungry.

Actually, that wasn't true. She was very hungry, her stomach rumbling almost constanly, but as she sat at the table, staring down at the food before her, she was not the least bit desirous of putting it in her mouth.

"Are you all right, Tuesday?"

She didn't know what it was that was bothering her, but something was poking at the edge of her consciousness, demanding her attention. Every time she turned to focus on it, however, something always seemed to step in her wa-

"Hey." Reilly's fingers curled around her hand and Tuesday looked at him in surprise, her train of thought disappearing into a fog. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just... thinking." She looked back down at her plate. She'd pushed the tomatoes and carrots to the outside of her plate and massacred the face of her salad, but she hadn't managed to eat anything, yet. She hoped they didn't think she was ungrateful.

"You do that too much sometimes."

"Maybe," she murmured. "I think I'm worried."

"About the dragon, or about Zorro?"

Tuesday pulled her hand from his grasp and rubbed both hands up her face and through her hair. "I don't know. The dragon just needs to be slain and we're accustomed to such duties. But Zorro..."

"As often as that riolu gets himself into trouble, you would think you'd be used to that, as well."

"I'll never get used to our pokemon getting hurt."

"And I'll never get used to you getting hurt." He stole her hand back and squeezed it gently. "Stop scaring me."

"Stop being so easy to scare."

"Ha! Not likely. Not while you're around. You terrify me, you know."

"Mm." Tuesday hummed lightly under her breath and watched as Reilly used the hand he didn't have wrapped around Tuesday's to shovel food into his mouth. She'd never pegged him for the salad type.

"You should eat," he said, once he'd swallowed.

"I'm not hungry." Was it really so much a lie if she was hungry but couldn't eat?

"We'll be fighting a dragon in an hour. You'll need your strength."

"It's just a dragon. We've taken on three at once." Just after waking, if she remembered correctly. They'd been dead asleep at camp after a nasty battle with one dragon, when two more had come to avenge the one that had fallen.

"Yes, but you had your full team that time, remember?"

Tuesday swallowed. That battle hadn't gone well. There had been more of them, then.

"We had our full team that time," she whispered. She pushed her chair back from the table and felt Reilly grab for her. His fingers wrapped around her forearm. His eyes were pleading and apologetic at once.

"Tuesday, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought them up."

"It's done." She pulled her arm from his grasp and moved away from the table, giving a polite and apologetic bow to their hosts. "I'm going to see Zorro before the battle." Just in case. She didn't say it, but she could see that Reilly heard it nonetheless, and she thought their hosts seemed to understand.

"Take what time you need, dear," Áine said fondly. Her smile was soft and kind, and it hurt Tuesday in a way.

She bowed again and exited as quickly as she could without seeming like she was fleeing.

She let her feet carry her down stone corridors decorated with an elaboration she wouldn't have been able to describe upon closer thought, and she did not question how she knew where to go when no one had told her the way. She simply walked and she thought on her past as a Dragonslayer.

It used to be a great deal more fun. It used to be a family business, of a sort, back before it was just she and Reilly. Back before they were attacked at camp during the night, when two dragons rode in to avenge one they had slain. The five of them fought hard, but they'd been taken by surprise, and the dragons were strong. Reilly and Tuesday had lived.

She found a small walkway that led out onto a balcony and moved to the railing, folding her arms upon the stonework and relaxing the muscles in her legs. She was tired. And not tired like she needed to sleep, but tired of slaying dragons and roaming the world in search of more pokemon allies to bring with them. She was tired of fighting monsters that just spawned more of themselves. There was no end to them, she and Reilly both knew that. They would just keep coming, no matter what, and it was beginning to seem so pointless to keep fighting when, ultimately, they never won anything, but they lost so much.

She wanted to settle down somewhere. She hadn't mentioned it to Reilly because she was afraid of what he'd say, but she had a dream that played in the back of her head when she was lying in bed at night. Just before she fell asleep, it would play in her mind's eye like a movie. A hundred acres of fenced-in pasture, a herd of ponyta and rapidash racing the wind through wild grass.

There was a house overlooking the pasture. Large, a bright cream-color, with a chimney that emmited smoke in the winter time, the roof covered in snow. She could imagine a giant rug in front of a fireplace, where she sat reading, with Ashleigh curled up, head on her lap. Zorro and Tempest would sit behind her head, trying to push each other off the back of the chair. She would wear a white lab coat, because she'd be a pokemon researcher, looking for ways to help pokemon, not slay them.

In her mind, she could hear Reilly off in the kitchen, cooking up some experimental meal, and there was the laughter of children upstairs, and footsteps pounding the hardwood floors, and the bark of a young puppy pokemon. She would fall asleep with these dreams in her head and she would spend her nights living a different life. Sometimes, in these dreams, she would open the door to find Jaima and Meiko had come to visit and brought their kids. Darryn would stop bu with some brilliant new idea for pokemon fashion, or he'd try to convince the half-wild rapidash out in the pastures to walk like November, her gait perfectly balanced, coat creamy, mane and tail ablaze.

Sometimes, she would open the door and there would be Brone and Cassandra, always together like they had been for years. And Brone would have a full party of pokemon with him and he'd regale her with tails of his adventures, because of course, he'd started his pokemon journey and been at it for years, and being blind hadn't ever slowed him down.

And then Anika would come in, the older sister she had never gotten along with, and suddenly there would be laughter and they would smile at each other and everything would be fine. There would be tales told around the dinner table as they ate great food and enjoyed great company. And they would be a family, all of them.

And then she would wake up, and it would be back to slaying dragons and fighting off the monsters in the world. Only she'd felt like she'd gotten no sleep, because she spent her nights living someone else's life, and all she wanted to do was go back to it, because she didn't want this life anymore. She wanted that other Tuesday's life. She thought she might do anything to get it.

"Tuesday?"

She wasn't concerned that she hadn't heard Reilly approach. Years as Dragonslayers, they had needed to learn to tread quietly so they wouldn't get eaten. Tuesday turned around and leaned back against the stone railing, studying him. Muddy blue-jeans, a red shirt and a brown vest, a handkerchief around his neck. He needed a hat to complete the image but he'd always hated the suggestion. The boots and the rope he carried with him everywhere only strengthened the appearance of a cowboy, but he'd always said he would have been a Ranger if not a Dragonslayer.

Funny. She would have pegged him for a nurse, believe it or not.

"Are you ready?"

She should tell him no. She should tell him she wasn't ready and she'd never be ready, because it was all just too much and she wanted to stop and go home. She wanted to find a home, and make it home, and then go there.

"Yes. I'm ready."

Zorro, after all, would be fine. He was in good care and she could see him after the battle. They needed to get this done. Then, perhaps, she could talk to Reilly about getting out of dragonslaying. She could become a Pokemon Researcher. He could be a nurse, or a Pokemon Ranger. They could build a home, start a family, live.

She didn't know how he would react, but they needed to talk about it. And she thought, maybe, he wouldn't mind starting a family with her.

Reilly took her hand and squeezed gently. "You okay?"

She looked at him, the downward twist of his mouth that displayed his concern, and the gleam in bocote eyes as he studied her in search of what was wrong. She couldn't help but smile and she squeezed his hand back, reaching up with her other to play fondly with his wild locks.

"I'm fine. Let's go deal with this beastie."

"Yes!" Reilly said, and skipped off, pulling her behind him. "I am so tired of not getting a straight answer about what type of dragon we're dealing with. I mean, come on, dying of curiosity? Lame."

It was a salamence.

Blue and red, five feet tall, two hundred and fifty pounds, with a wingspan as long as the cave in which they found him, and teeth like a serpent. The dragon's roar nearly knocked Tuesday off her feet, and when that failed, the tail that swept under her legs succeeded. She felt the breath whoosh out of her lungs as her back struck the ground and she lay still for precious seconds, fighting to grab air in her startled lungs.

Her pokemon were out. She could see flashes of fire as Reilly's monferno, Indiana, bounced about wildly, and it made her think of Zorro and his haphazard way of winning a fight. Sparks of electricty displayed Tempest's position and Tuesday tracked the pikachu with her eyes as the rodent raced up the salamence's long tail and slammed her whole, lightning-ridden body into the back of the pokemon's head.

"Tempest! Stop using that move!"

"Ka!" the pikachu barked back at her, and kept on fighting.

Boromir, Reilly's buizel, was moving quickly, hitting the salamence from a different position every time he struck, but never the same place twice. Odysseus and Pippin were working together, the pichu's small spark's of lighting riding the waves of the floatzel's attacks. And everywhere flitted a wild shadow that seemed to swap forms with ease, but not enough practice to actually hold onto anything. Spectre, his first real battle, was proving he was a good addition to the team.

The salamence was strong, as dragons were, but not invincible, and not so strong against an army.

The dragon roared in pain as Phoenix crunched down on its wing. It flapped wildly and sent the growlithe flying, but the dog landed gracefully and raced back into the fray with a flamethrowing take down. An impressive combination, to be sure.

Everywhere it turned, another attack was striking at the area the dragon had just turned its back on. It roared in anger and pain, flapping its wings in an attempt to drive them back, stumbling on injured, aching legs, and waving around a scratched and bleeding tail.

Tuesday could see it was on its last leg. She could see it was faltering, that it wouldn't last much longer.

And she could see, in her mind's eye, another dragon. Another salamence. One she never would have taken down, but one she had seen her uncle ride a hundred times, graceful, loyal, and beautiful.

Could she have bared the thought of doing this to Venture Star?

The world didn't slow. The pokemon kept attacking, the dragon kept defending and trying to fight back, but everything had gone quiet. There was a soft pain in her head, like a headache trying to make itself known, and she couldn't hear anything but the labored breathing of the dragon, interrupted by a pain-filled roar her, a threatening snarl there - a sound that was more pleading than frightening. Why were they doing this?

Why were they doing this?

Tuesday moved over to Reilly and clutched his arm. He was giving an order to Indiana and not listening, trying to pull away from her, but she tugged on his arm until he looked at her, confused and concerned, looking to see if she had been hurt.

She couldn't find a voice to her concerns, but her eyes must have shown what she was feeling. She shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted it all]/i] to [i]stop.

Why were they doing this?

Reilly called something to his pokemon. Tuesday didn't hear the words, the sound of the dragon's breathing too heavy in her ears. But the pokemon stopped fighting and backed off. Reilly recalled most of them, his and hers, until on Odysseus and Indiana remained, in case the dragon moved in.

There was a great rush of air as the dragon exhaled, hot breath hitting them hard in the face, and then the beast flapped its wings once, hard.

It exploded upward, shooting right up into the air. Tuesday thought, surely, it would hit the roof of the cavern and crash back to the earth, but only rocks hit the ground. The cave roof exploded upward in a shower of dirt and stone and the dragon roared as it hit the sky, flapped its great wings thunderously, and disappeared.

"It's gone," Tuesday breathed, a relief she couldn't explain filling her heart with a kind of cool feeling, like lemonade on a hot day. She breathed a sigh of relief and leaned heavily against Reilly. "It's gone."

"Yes, and not defeated." Reilly wrapped an arm around her. "We're in a lot of trouble, you realize?"

"I don't care. I couldn't do that, Reilly. Not to Venture Star."

She could feel his frown at her, the concerned eyes burning into her. "That wasn't Venture Star, Tuesday."

"I know." She pushed away from him, stood up and looked him in the face. "It was just a salamence that looked like her, but I couldn't have done that, Reilly. Not to Venture."

Reilly huffed a sigh and gave her a lopsided smile. "If I didn't love you for your big heart, I'd hate you for it."

Tuesday smiled back at him. "Now what?"

"Now... we go tell the king and queen the dragon's gone... but not slain."

"Aah."



"What do you mean it has no been slain. You are dragonslayers, are you not?"

"We are-"

"And yet, you have failed the slay the dragon." The king paced in front of them both, looking disappointed and confused.

"It's fled the cavern it was dwelling in. It won't bother you anymore."

"That is not the point. You were hired to complete a service, and you have failed to do so. This is... not something we come across here."

"I do apologize, your majesty, but I had to do what I felt was right," Tuesday said, stepping forward.

She paused in her movement when the man looked fiercely at her. "I expected more of you, my dear. You have such a heart, such a ferocity. Surely you could have easily dealt with the dragon with no troubles. And yet... you leave it go? I am shocked at your foolishness. At your irresponsibility."

"What harm has the dragon brought to you?"

"It is not about harm. It is about you following the orders you are given!"

His eyes burned into hers, and there was a sharp pain in the back of her head, that headache flaring up even more powerfully than before. She resisted the urge to rub her skull to relieve it.

"I am truly disappointed. After all we gave to you."

Tuesday truly wondered what it was they have given them, asides from a meal which she didn't eat any of. she shook her head, willing away the distracting headache.

"Look, I know we've disappointed you and I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do about it now. The dragon's gone."

"We'll leave just as soon as we get Zorro and be out of your hair."

"Ah, no, that won't be necessary," the queen said, stepping up next to her husband.

"I think we should leave before we cause any more of a disruption."

"No, no, stay," the queen said, lifting her eyes to stare at them alluringly. "I insist."

Tuesday and Reilly turned their heads to regard each other in the same instant, and in that instant, came to the same conclusion.

Run.

Neither of them could explain what was wrong. The king and queen were acting the same as they had been, and yet different. They felt safe her, and yet vulnerable. They were in no danger of being attacked, and yet an enemy waited around every corner. They had no choice but to run if they wanted to stay alive, even if they were running from nothing but shadows.

They raced through the palace, down stone staircases and across marble floors. A loud bark caught their attention and Zorro was racing out of another room, shouts calling after him as he escaped. Tuesday grabbed him up in her arms and kept moving, she and Reilly racing together toward the first bit of freedom they could find, up old, worn stairs, through dirty, rock-walled tunnels, and out of the palace, into the sunshine, and freedom.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Oct 15 2012, 03:42 AM

It was dusk when two very weary, very sore humans walked up the path to Arthro Town. Each of them carried a pokemon in their arms, the male of the pair holding a kirlia up on his shoulder like a father holds a sleeping child, the female holding a gothorita in a cradled position. Both pokemon, similar yet different, were very soundly and very obviously asleep: The kirlia had her head on her trainer's shoulder and was drooling on it, and the gothorita's arms were hanging limp over her trainer's arms. Closer inspection showed six pokemon on each trainer's belt (or bandolier, in the male's case), showing that they had many more, but evidently only these two were out.

The two were followed by a lucario, totaling the walking (for lack of better term) pokemon to three, who had something of alook of amusement on his face.

They trod to the pokecenter, through the doors and to the front desk. The Joy there, a middle aged Joy with laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, took one look at them, tsked kindly, and slid a single key. The young man took it. As one, the couple turned and walked down the hallway, opening the room with the number that matched the one on the key chain (after unsuccessfully trying to unlock the doors on either side of it, as well as the one directly across the hall) and stumbled into the room.

There were two beds in the room, and they lay the two psychic types side by side on one. Shadow found a chair and sat, closing his eyes.

"Mmm," the girl hummed, taking off her shoes.

"I'll let you bathe first, Meiko," said the boy, sitting heavily on the other bed and stripping off his jacket.

"'Kay, Jaima," Meiko answered, but she sat, too, then flopped over. Jaima flopped over as well, behind her, and she pulled his hand over her side, holding it. "Just a few minutes..."

"Mmm," Jaima said. "I could just... sleep, you know..? Not get involved in any big thing and just... sleep."

"Me too," Meiko murmured.

And so they did.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Nov 12 2012, 12:18 AM

They had run for as far as they could, then slowed to a walk and kept going. The sun moved through the sky as they traveled. They didn't stop, uncomfortable with how near they yet remained to the kingdom. Their feets ached and they were tired, but they didn't stop until they had traveled into the darkness of night, and even with the light of Indiana's tail, they couldn't see a foot in front of them.

They didn't unpack anything but a blanket. Tuesday and Reilly found a tiny bare area within a copse of trees and lay down together underneath the blanket.

Even with the darkness and wrapped in warmth, neither of them could sleep. Indiana had been returned to his pokeball, the flame on his tail too likely to give away their presence. The tiny area they had found to rest in seemed even smaller with Zorro and Phoenix both out, but Reilly and Tuesday both felt safer with two of their pokemon present. Safer, but not safe enough to sleep.

"I want to stop."

Tuesday felt Reilly shift under the blankets. "What?"

"Slaying. Hunting. I want to stop." She couldn't see anything in the darkness, but her eyes were open, staring anyway. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, her legs curled up. She hated the silence of his hesitation.

"And do what?"

"Live?" Her voice broke on shadows.

There was silence for a long time, broken only by the songs of the nocturnal, and the breathing of the four companions within the small enclosure.

"Aren't we living now?" he finally asked.

"You call this a life?" She hadn't meant for her words to sound so scathing, but her tone was bitter.

"You haven't been willing to live since Jaima-"

"Don't!" she snapped, pushing blindly against his chest. "I don't want to talk about them."

"You never want to talk about them, but the thing is that you need to. It's been years, Tuesday! Years, and you've yet to let it go. You haven't moved on. Have you ever grieved?"

Tuesday pulled her legs up tighter against her body and didn't respond to him.

"How can you talk about wanting to start a life when you're so wrapped up in death? They're dead! It's time you got over it!"

"I don't want to get over it!" she screamed, and shoved him hard. She heard him gasp at the sudden punch to his stomach. She forced herself to her feet, stumbling away from him. "I want to make it go back to the way it was."

"You can't." Reilly coughed and she heard him move under the blanket. "Come on, get back here."

"I don't want to talk to you right now," she said, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Then don't. Tuesday, it's cold, come on." The blanket rustled. "Come sleep."

Breathing slowly, she turned around and fumbled back under the blanket. She could feel the warmth of his body heat against her skin and she curled up close to him. His hands gripped hers for a moment, and when she started to shake lightly, he folded his arms around her, whispering softly in her ear.

Tuesday buried her face against his chest, pressing herself as close to him as she was able. She felt her tears soak into the fabric beneath her head, and the fingers curled around the hem of his shirt, seeking anchorage in the maelstorm of her grief.

Her voice cracked on a whisper.

"I miss them."

When morning came, nothing was said about the previous night. Tuesday served a simple breakfast while Reilly rolled up the blanket and hid evidence of their presence. It took only a few minutes from when they woke up to when they left. For the most part, they traveled in silence.

Zorro was quiet and oddly subdued, but he had been nearly captured by the Fae and had probably slept little the night before. Tuesday had attempted to recall him, but after dealing with his arguments, had opted to let him further tire himself out. Indiana had replaced Phoenix, the monferno walking at the head of the group, with Zorro following at the rear.

Tuesday had been happy to discover that his broken leg had been healed and she tried not to let his uncharacteristic silence bother her. Things hadn't exactly been perfect these last couple of days.

And Tuesday still felt a little off.

It was more than a fear that the Fae of the kingdom were pressing on their heels. It was like she had brought a part of the kingdom with her, or a part of her had been left behind, within its walls. It was an unpleasant sensation that left her exhausted and wanting, constantly trying to defend herself against an unseen threat and consistently fighting the desire to return to that kingdom. What had they done to her to so attract her to it?

She didn't know. She just knew she didn't feel quite right.

The four of them walked until they reached an intersection in a dirt road, and a sign displaying where each road would carry them.

"Anthro Town?" Reilly murmured, studying the sign.

"That sounds familiar." Tuesday frowned, Reilly looking back at her curiously. "I think I wanted to come here at some point, but I don't remember what for."

"It could have been something you'd planned... before." Reilly's voice grew quiet at the end, apologetic. Neither of them had wanted to bring the topic back into circulation.

"Yeah," Tuesday whispered. It could have been something she had planned to do with Meiko or Jaima or Darryn when the three were still alive. It'd been so long, it was likely she had forgotten whatever it was they had meant to do, but the name had seemed familiar.

"Come on," Tuesday said, walking down the dirt road the sign said led to Anthro Town. "We can at least restock on supplies, and I want someone to look at Zorro's arm." It wasn't broken, but with the way they had been treated, she just wanted to be sure he was okay. She just didn't trust that they had done good by Zorro.

Reilly had fallen behind when Tuesday began walking, but caught up with her as they entered the town. They were nearly upon the pokemon center when he grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop, turning her to face him. "Tuesday."

"Reilly, I don't want to talk about it," she said, her voice a plea.

"I know. I know, you've said that in the past and... I'm sorry. I shouldn't keep bringing them up. I know how much they meant to you."

Tuesday twisted out of his grasp and folded her arms protectively over her chest. "Why didn't they mean that much to you?"

Reilly folded his own arms. "I don't know... I didn't know them as long as you, I guess."

"Long enough."

Reilly shook his head, shrugging. "I don't... they were important to me because they were important to you, Tuesday. I'm sorry about what happened. I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect them, or able to protect you from being hurt. I wish I could go back and fix it. I wish I could change the outcome, but... I can't." He reached out for her hand and, after a moment, she let him take it, their fingers entangling.

"I can't fix things to make everything right, but we can find a way to get past it all. We can stop dragonslaying, if that's what you want. We can start a new life, learn to live again, be happy..."

"Would you..." Tuesday bit her lip and looked down.

"What?" Reilly asked, letting go of her hand and gripping her shoulders. "Tuesday, you know you can ask me anything."

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading but worried. "Would you want to... start a family with me?"

Reilly looked startled for a moment, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. He regained his composure enough to stammer a response. "Y-you... want to start a family?"

Tuesday grabbed one of his hands and gripped it tightly in hers. "A new life, a family, with you. Of course." She ducked her head self-consciously. "If you... want to, that is."

Reilly swallowed, grabbing her chin and forcing her head up so their eyes met.

"Yes," he said firmly, and kissed her.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Jan 13 2013, 03:12 AM

Between the two of them, one of them was awake over four times in the night.

For one each, it was for normal biological needs, though they are remarkable given the fact that, while the couple were still fairly new together, and wary of going past the other's assumed limitations, they fell easily back into the sleep they had been in before the need arose, snuggling together and matching body curve to curve, in an almost intimate way that is found amongst those who have entered a relationship many years ago.

In one other, Jaima woke, suddenly, hearing a noise beyond the door of the room. His head popped up, removing his face from his gilrfriend's hair. Had he been a pokemon, his eyes would have been wide and round, to gather as much light as possible for seeing. His ears would have been high, or wide, or flared, twitching for even the smallest sounds. His muscles were tense, and the small hairs on his arms rose, standing straight up.

He didn't make a sound. He didn't rise, but, subconsciously, carefully, he did shift, able to rise, able to clear the girl in front of him, stand between her, their pokemon, and whoever might attack.

After a short time, he relaxed, then tensed, briefly, then relaxed. His head lowered, he snuffled a bit, and began to sleep again.

Lastly, Meiko woke. Like Jaima, she, too, stayed perfectly still, not even moving her head. But her wariness was regarding herself. She woke, gritting her teeth, stifling a whine or cry. Arms were around her, and she knew they were male, and...

She put her hands on the forearms in front of her, and then, slowly, began to remember. It was Jaima. It was not dangerous. It was safe.

She closed her eyes, forcing her breathing, which had started to become short and rapid, to slow, calm. She forced her heart to do the same. Her hands ran the length of Jaima's forearms, slowly. She could feel give in them. If she so desired, she could push them away, and get out of the bed.

She wasn't trapped, and that did more for her fear than her own efforts. Her eyes drifted closed, and she fell back to sleep.

* * * * *

"Evewy night?"

It was a similar room to the last time these two young ladies had been here before. There was no mirror, and the diverse decorations were much better merged, with the dark and lavender portions gracing the floor and highlighting the white and blue walls. There was a small white table, the kind usually seen on television outside of a cafe, painted white, with lavender cups on it, filled with steaming tea.

The speaker, who's nose was scrunched up a little bit, was a young girl with her hair sweeping back in loops at either side of her head. She wore a black dress festooned with white bows, which stopped at mid thigh. She stirred her tea with one hand, her other pressed against her cheek, resting it. Her face looked almost bored, but in her eyes was a glint of interest, suggesting that the boredom was an act.

Across from her sat a girl with short blue hair, wearing a white sundress that ended in the same place. She, too, stirred her tea, looking toward it without focusing on it at all. She smiled at her companion's words.

"No, not every night... but when he's very tired, he sometimes needs help keeping his mind at rest."

The girl in the dark dress took a sip of her tea, frowned slightly at the taste, and spooned some sugar, a bowl of which appeared as if by magic on the table, into the cup. "And you did this fo' my twainew, too?"

"Only before you were around."

"When did you sweep?"

"We're sleeping now..."

"I guess," the girl in the dark dress said, unconvinced. They sat in silence for a while, the girl in white looking around idly, enjoying the tea, the room, and, if she were pressed for an answer, the company. The girl in black tapped her finger on the table. "So why awe you hewping me now?"

The blue-haired girl looked up, blinking. "You asked," she said, aware that it was almost insultingly obvious.

"I haven't given you much weason to twust my intentions." A flicker of emotion crossed the other girl's face, causing the girl in white to frown and reach out. After a token hesitation, she put her hand on her companion's.

"Nightwish... Something happened in that forest. Something happened while we were last here. Maybe it's been building up, maybe we exchanged something during our... scuffle-"

Nightwish snorted daintily. "Scuffew, she says. Don't sugaw coat it, Mewcuwy."

Mercury smile, a small smile both happy and mischievous. "Fine. Our fight. And I won't sugar coat, this, either: You've been coming to this for a while. Meiko's the first human you've cared about."

A dark shadow crossed Nightwish's face, but she did not get angry. "No. Not the fiwst."

Mercury patted her hand, but knew better, now, than to push. "I'm glad. I've grown fond of Meiko... I'm glad a caring psychic found her..."

"See, that's what fweaks me out!" Nightwish stood, turning her back to Mercury. "You've seen how I am! You've seen me-- You've seen me! How can you twust me?!"

Mercury stood as well, walking around the table, and putting an arm around her. "Because I've seen you. Seen you for what you really are... or at least for what you want to be." Nightwish looked at her, eyes wide. "The mirror," Mercury continued. "It's hard to fool a mind mirror."

"But you saw what I saw--"

"I saw what you saw, how you saw it. Almost as if it were through your eyes. Before that... I saw you how you are."

Nightwish only looked at Mercury, her brows flowing together. She took a shaky breath.

"Why do you bewieve in me..?"

Mercury smiled, slightly sad, then, slowly, teasing. "I blame my trainer."

"Haha!" Nightwish pulled away, batting at Mercury. "Maybe I wubbed off on you a wittwe bit, too," she said, finally. "You don't have that big oh' stick up youw--"

Both girls suddenly lifted their heads. Mercury smiled a little, nodding, and sat down again. Nightwish also sat, closing her eyes.

After a while, she opened one. "Show me how to hewp..."

Mercury beamed at her, causing Nightwish to scowl and close her eye. "Don't make a spectacwe out of it, just hewp me!"

"OK, here's what you do..."

* * * * *

Meiko woke to the shower running, sitting up blearily as it turned off. She was still in her clothing from the night before, except for her hat, which was on the night table. Her hair was mussed, and her mouth felt like it had cotton in it. She made a face and stood up.

The bathroom door opened, and Jaima stepped out. Meiko blushed, not because he was in any way compromised: He had evidently taken precautions, and was fully dressed. Her blush was from the slick, brief feeling of disappointment that he hadn't stepped out in less.

Jaima grinned, driving the brief shame away. "Hey. Why don't you have a shower, and I'll get us breakfast..?"

Meiko nodded, her eyes widening as the mention of food made her aware of how hungry she was. Jaima stepped out, and Meiko darted into the bathroom, having a single important matter delaying her shower temporarily.

As promised, when Meiko was finished, Jaima was there, with breakfast: Toast, eggs, bacon, sausage. It was more than she expected, and she looked, wide eyed, at her boyfriend. "Where--?"

Jaima scratched the back of his head. "They're having some kind of continental breakfast down there. The Nurse said to help myself, so..."

Meiko grinned, and they sat, eating. Chatting, lightly, about what they'd do that day, where they'd go, and how best to continue Jaima's challenge.

Soon, Breakfast was done, the pokemon were fed, and Jaima and Meiko stepped out, arm in arm. It wasn't long until they saw a familiar pair of heads. Tuesday and Reilly seemed to be walking slowly, talking. Then, they stopped, facing each other.

And then Reilly kissed Tuesday.

Jaima and Meiko's eyes widened, and they turned to look at each other. Meiko's face lit up, and she said the only thing she could, as quietly as possible...

"Eeeeee!!!"

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Jan 13 2013, 02:35 PM

There was a moment when Tuesday felt her mind split in half.

It wasn't a painful process, despite how it sounded. She felt her mind separate, a memory, or belief, or way of life, splitting off as though peeled away like the skin of a banana. It did not tear off completely, but it fell, drooping, like a wilted flower - there, but leaving room for the other buds to blossom, to flourish.

It placed her mind in a brief duality. For a moment, she was the Tuesday who had fought dragons, hunted across the world for monsters, who had lost dear friends but found the strength to carry on, to rely on the last of her companions, and to fall in love with him.

And she was also the Tuesday who had existed before that; the Tuesday who had lived without the dragonslaying, before the interference of the Fae. She was the Tuesday who was learning to control her Aura powers, who often did foolish things without meaning to, who wandered into the realm of her own mind and got lost.

For a moment, she was both of them, at once. In her mind, she gazed through a warped mirror at her other self, and she saw both Tuesdays, and she saw through both sets of eyes.

And as she heard, softly, as though carried on the wind, the whispered squeal of a familiar friend's - a long lost friend's - happiness, she realized which Tuesday she was, and which Tuesday belonged in the warped mirror.

And in that moment, Tuesday found herself again. And she realized, almost at the exact same moment, why she felt as though she had left part of herself behind in the Kingdom, and why she felt as though she had brought part of the Kingdom with her.

Because both were true.

Tuesday didn't jerk away from Reilly so much as she simply spun on her heel, lips sliding off of his. Her hair slapped him in the face as she made a complete about-face, causing him to turn his head and catch sight of Jaima and Meiko. In that instant, his mind also snapped out of the fog and false memory it had been plunged into.

There was a moment of recollection of all that occurred, Reilly putting his thoughts into order and finding himself there. And then he promptly bent over at the waist and began to gag spectacularly. "I can't believe I kissed you! What the hell was I thinking?"

Tuesday didn't respond.

Her eyes narrowed into slits that would have looked more at home on a coiled arbok than her face. The ralts standing behind her, for it was a ralts and not a riolu, seemed to lose some of the color in its headcrest and face. Tuesday took a step toward the pokemon - a step that carried her half the distance to the frightened creature.

The mouth of the creature quirked up in a mischievous smirk, and Tuesday heard a child's giggle echo hauntingly in her mind.

There was a sudden pop and the creature was gone.

Tuesday's whole body stiffened, her shoulders going completely rigid. Her teeth grit together and her lips tightened and twisted into a soundless snarl.

She spun on her heel and stormed away, headed toward the pokemon center. She heard Jaima call her name, asking her what was wrong, but the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears muffled his voice and she was free to ignore it. She would have ignored it, anyway.

The automatic doors to the pokemon center opened before she had even reached the sensor. The swished open quickly, as though fearful of getting in her way. Had she taken the time to look, she might have seen the strange blue light that had pushed the doors apart and appeared to be holding them at bay. She had no time for such things, however. Her feet and her rage carried her quickly into the pokemon center, to a phone terminal, where she dialed a number without even thinking about it and opened a video call.

The call was answered almost immediately, though the grinning grey-haired man on the other end of the channel looked slightly out of breath. "Tuesday!" Professor Oak said, delighted. "I was hoping to hear from you soon. How did your field res-"

"Can I have Ashleigh back now?"

Professor Oak looked startled at having been interrupted. He took a long look at Tuesday through the monitor and promptly sat down, giving her an expression of complete concern. "What's wrong, Tuesday?"

Tuesday's fingers clenched on the desk she sat at. "I need Ashleigh." There had been signs. There had been signs that she should have picked up on. Zorro was never quiet unless something was wrong, never still. Even not knowing that she had been conned, she should have checked on him, made sure he was all right. If she had done that, she would have realized he wasn't Zorro. And Zorro - no, the ralts - hadn't let himself be recalled, because it wouldn't have worked. It wouldn't have worked, and she would have realized.

She should have pressed.

She should have known.

"I need Ashleigh," she said again, her voice tight.

"Tuesday, if you'll just tell me what's wrong-"

"I need my damn houndoom and you've had him long enough!"

She couldn't hear any sound around her. Though she blamed it on the thundering of her blood in her head, deep down she knew the pokemon center had gone quiet, for she hadn't been quiet. Professor Oak studied her in silence for a time, before he played with a few buttons out of her sight.

"Send over one of your pokemon for a trade."

Tuesday swallowed. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to tell him what was wrong and say she was sorry and explain that she was just so worried. But she didn't have time, and she couldn't think about it.

She knew if she took the time to think about it, she would lose her fight with guilt, and the rage would flee in the face of her despair. She needed her anger.

Still, her hands shook as she reached for the pokeballs in her pocket. She fumbled them into the machine and once she had pressed the button to send them to Pallet Town, she clenched her hands into fists and willed them to still.

Ashleigh's pokeball materialized in the system and Tuesday grabbed it, holding it tightly in a shaking hand. She stood up, but the professor called her name. "Tuesday, why do you send me-"

"Keep them safe for me," she murmured. She glanced into the monitor for just a moment and had only a second to witness the widening of Professor Oak's eyes before she hit the button to end the call.

Tuesday pushed the chair in, gripping Ashleigh's pokeball tightly in her hand. She drew a deep breath, shutting her eyes. She shuddered for a moment, her body quivering on utter panic, but she quelled it. She wouldn't let it hinder her. She wouldn't be stopped.

Tuesday opened her eyes.

She turned and left the pokemon center.

Jaima, Meiko, and Reilly hadn't followed her into the pokemon center, but they were waiting just outside of it, murmuring quietly among themselves. They turned when she came out, the doors finally sliding closed once she was beyond them. She walked right up to Jaima, her mouth set in a grim line. She spoke to him, and though every word she saw was spoken politely, there was an furious tenor to it, almost undetectable, buried beneath the strange tone of formality she was using with him. A tone she had never used with him, even when they first met.

And then there was the fact that she wouldn't look at him.

"May I borrow Mercury?"

She didn't see Jaima's eyebrows furrow because she wouldn't look at his face, but she heard the confused tone in his voice. "Why?" She shuddered almost imperceptibly at the sound of his voice.

That wasn't real. That wasn't Tuesday.

She swallowed, shook her head, and stared at something past his shoulder. "May I borrow Mercury... please?"

She saw the distinct pale and blue colors of the kirlia out of the corner of her eye as the psychic moved forward, but there was another movement as Jaima raised his hand. It was a simple gesture, and done without flourish or anger, but the meaning was clear.

"No."

Mercury halted, and Jaima was surely keeping his eyes on Tuesday's face, trying to answer the question that she refused to answer.

"I'm sorry, Tuesday. But no."

Tuesday swallowed. She thought about all the years that she had lived, but hadn't lived, knowing that they had died because she hadn't been strong enough. Remembering the fight distinctly in which they had died. Remembering how they died.

She remembered it all, as though it had happened, even though it hadn't.

She couldn't look at him, or she wouldn't be able to go on. She couldn't stop and think about them being here, because they couldn't be, not yet. That other Tuesday, the one who had lived through their death and gone on, she was stronger than the real Tuesday. And Tuesday needed that strength. She needed that strength to save Zorro. So for a little while longer, Jaima and Meiko, Mercury and Shadow, Fang, Desertdancer, and all of them... they couldn't be here. Not really.

They were just ghosts. Just for now, they were ghosts, haunting her as they had always haunted her, and that would be all right.

Because the Mirror Tuesday was strong enough without them to save Zorro. And she would. She would save him.

She had to.

Tuesday nodded. Her jaw quivered for a moment, but she closed her eyes and gripped her teeth together tightly.

No.

Without a word, she turned and walked away, headed back the direction she had come when she had entered Anthro Town. She knew she could find the Kingdom of the Fae again, now that she could tell what had been left behind there.

And she would get Zorro back from them.

Tuesday gripped Ashleigh's pokeball tightly in her fist.

She would.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Jan 19 2013, 11:28 PM

Meiko's hair flew as she turned back, just in time to see Tuesday break the kiss. She wanted to squeal again, run up to her, and take Tuesday shopping (a delightful excuse for the real purpose of the time away from the boys, which was gossip), but stopped herself in time. Tuesday wasn't that kind of girl. She'd probably want to think about what had happened, deal with the reality of being "caught" by Jaima and Meiko, and process before she would be willing to do anything resembling "dish"...

Or she'll want to threaten a ralts, then storm right past us with an angry expression on her face... Meiko looked up at Jaima, who had also followed her with his eyes. When he looked down, his expression was not comforting. It was as confused as Meiko was.

Shadow took a step back, looking at Mercury the way Jaima currently looked at Meiko; confused, worried, and a little scared. Unlike the humans, Shadow confided in his counterpart. She's using her power... I don't think she even realizes it...

Mercury nodded, her own eyes looking where the ralts had disappeared. I'll do you one better... she was confused and angry at the ralts, and I saw something fall around her while she and Reilly...

Yeah, thewe's weiwdness afoot, awwight... what awe we going to do about it?

Both the lucario and the kirlia blinked at the gothorita, causing her to blush and turn away. Shut up!

Jaima began to move, and Meiko grabbed his arm, but instead of following Tuesday, he turned to Reilly, who had finished a fantastic "Oh why did it have to be Brussels Sprouts!" gagging performance and was also watching where the doors had closed on Tuesday.

"What just happened?"

Reilly tensed, looking up at Jaima with wide eyes, as if he had forgotten about the dangerous wild persian in the area and it had found him. Meiko could have sworn the boy paled, but, to his credit, he didn't run, but straightened up and faced Jaima squarely. Even defiantly.

"I don't know, ask her! She kissed me! I didn't kiss he-"

"Reilly," Jaima said, putting up a hand. His tone was more weary than anything. "Why is Tuesday upset?"

"I don't know," Reilly answered, with a slight flicker of concern. Jaima nodded.

"Did she catch a ralts on the way here?" Jaima tilted his head, looking back toward the Pokecenter. Reilly blinked.

"No. I mean... Ralts?I don't think so... Zorro was following us..." Jaima and Meiko looked at each other, eyes widening, but Reilly continued, heedless of them paying attention or not. "I'm... this is weird," he muttered at the end, putting a hand to his temple and scowling.

Meiko put a hand on his shoulder, and it was almost odd to see the flicker of recognition in his eyes and his shoulders relax at her touch. "Take your time, Reilly," she said softly. "What happened?"

"We, um... I remember meeting her on the road... and we were going the same direction, and there was..." He shook his head, incredulous. "We were dragon hunters..."

Meiko blinked, then looked back at Jaima, who was scowling thoughtfully. She turned back to Reilly. "What do you mean?"

Reilly looked confused, as if reconciling what had happened before hadn't been real, and shook his head. "We were dragon hunters. All of us. And there was... this kingdom...."

He trailed off, looking confused, and not a little scared. He looked at Meiko and Jaima, his eyes, briefly, full of pain, before he shook his head rapidly. "It was weird," he said softly. "You we-"

The doors to the pokecenter whooshed open, and Tuesday stepped out. She walked toward them stiffly, her hands at her side, one clutching a pokeball. Her eyes were fastened on his shoulder. It was as if she refused to look at them. Reilly moved forward, but a simple touch to his shoulder from Meiko stopped him.

Tuesday stopped in front of Jaima, looking at his arm, or maybe his collar. Certainly not in the face. Her voice was low, almost husky, but the request was clear. "Can I borrow Mercury?"

Jaima could feel his brow curl. He wanted to reach out to touch her, but something in the tenseness in her shoulders, the way she wouldn't, or possibly couldn't, look at him, stopped him cold. Instead, he simply asked, "Why?"

Tuesday tensed even more. It seemed, if the convulsing shudder that went through her was what he thought it was, that she had swallowed thickly. He willed her to look up, but she didn't. "Can I borrow Mercury... please?"

Jaima could feel Mercury moving, and after a second, raised his hand. He wished she would tell him why, look at him, something. A flash came to him, from a dream, from that dream, of her looking at him as if she had seen a ghost, but he couldn't reconcile it with the Tuesday he was seeing now.

"No."

Meiko let out a breath Jaima hadn't realized she was holding, and Reilly turned to stare at the older boy, but Jaima kept looking where Tuesday's face should be, but instead there was only the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Tuesday... but no."

Tuesday was silent, and Jaima was hyper aware of everything going on around them. Meiko was nearby, possibly next to Reilly. He could feel a sense of charged atmosphere where he'd last seen the younger boy, and felt maybe Meiko was keeping him in check. Or possibly it was the confusion of the situation. Mercury had stopped, he knew, near his ear, and he felt a flood of emotion from her, encouraging him, assuring him that, at the very least, she and Shadow were in agreement with him. So Jaima kept his eyes on Tuesday, on this person who looked like Tuesday but wasn't the quiet, rational girl he'd come to know. In her place was a barely restrained ball of panic and anger.

He didn't have to be a psychic or see auras to know what would happen next, though he desperately wished it wouldn't. But as sure as they were standing there, Tuesday stayed still only for the time it took to make a new plan. Then she turned, unable to look at him, nor Meiko, nor even Reilly, and walked briskly from the town, in the same direction she had come from.

Jaima sighed, standing, but Reilly could contain himself no longer. "Wha- Why didn't you stop her?!"

Jaima looked at him, smiled, sadly, then looked at Meiko. Her eyes were fierce, and he could tell, without asking, she was having the same idea as he was. Looking at Mercury, he gave her instructions. Mercury touched Nightwish' arm, and they both popped out of existence.

"Stopping her isn't an option with Tuesday." Jaima looked at Meiko, who smiled thinly and nodded.

Reilly scowled. "What are you talking about? She's, what, eighty pounds? I could take her-- Stop laughing!"

The two older teens were laughing, but not cruelly. "Come on, Reilly," Meiko said between giggles. "You travelled with her. Could you get her to do anything she didn't want to do?"

Memories seemed to flit across Reilly's vision, and he looked down. "That... that was some weird dream."

Mercury, Nightwish, and two backpacks popped into existence. Jaima and Meiko both put the backpacks on. "Yeah, you might be right," Jaima said. "That doesn't necessarily mean it didn't happen..."

* * * * *

It didn't take long to catch up to Tuesday. All three were in fair shape, and Tuesday stayed on the main road. a fact that gave Jaima some hope that the girl would eventually tell them what was going on. To Reilly's continued distress, they didn't try to take her back, or make her stop. They simply followed along.

Jaima's hopes were dashed shortly after reaching her. Once they got to a certain distance, it was fairly obvious that Tuesday would have no interaction. If the trio sped up, she did as well, slowing only when the other three did. Jaima and Meiko had let out their eleven pokemon, with Ember, Grondir, Cosette, Desertdancer, Fang, Eggheart, Fang, and Blazeclaw (who had actually been hanging on Shadow's tail, a feat made more surprising by the fact that the lucario hadn't realized it at the time), joined Mercury, Shadow, and Nightwish on the road. From time to time, one of the pokemon would speed up to try to engage Tuesday, but she did not pay them any more attention than she paid the humans, besides her shoulders tensing when Desertdancer or Fang looked at her.

They travelled in silence, following Silence, until, finally, it seemed she would not be able to go on. She, herself, found the clearing.

"There's hope," Meiko whispered when they stopped, Meiko and Jaima starting to get their bedding ready. "She picked a clearing big enough for all of us."

Reilly was watching Tuesday warily as the girl picked a spot near some trees close to the road. She sat, exhausted, but still would not look at them. "I don't think she did it by choice," he said, glaring, briefly, at Jaima. Jaima let it pass without comment.

No, I... nudged hew...

Only the pokemon able to sense the psychic words and Meiko were able to hear the gothorita's words. Meiko's head snapped toward Nightwish, her lips in a straight line, but it was Mercury who spoke first.

Nightwish, that's not a good idea! She's already been manipulated by one or more psychics! If you interfere, she'll just think we're doing the same thing!

Nightwish turned hooded eyes, speaking mentally still but keeping Meiko in the loop, much as Mercury did. I was subtwe. I'm not a compwete novice, you know! To Mercury and Shadow alone, she added, She was exhausting hewsewf. I just put the idea in hew head, I didn't make hew think anything she wouwdn't have othewise. I'm not a compwete monstew...

Meiko seemed satisfied, and turned back to continue preparations. Mercury moved closer. The closeness wasn't needed for privacy. On the contrary, it was a signal to the humans that they, the psychic pokemon, were indeed talking and not being idle.

You have to be careful with Tuesday, Nightwish. She's...

Nightwish nodded, looking serious. Bewieve it oh not, she's not the fiwst wesistant I've come acwoss. She has excewwent shiewds. But they awe scattewed whiwe she's distwacted... Mercury and Shadow once again blinked at Nightwish, and she rolled her eyes. I'm a fast wehnew, OK? Now wisten, I have something impohtent to say: thewe's two sets of memowies in thewe. I can't see them, hew defenses awe too good, but I can teww thewe's two. Same wif Weiwwy. It's wike what happened to youw twainew when he fiwst met the giw.

Mercury blinked. Wait, you looked at my trainer?! After all that fuss you made over me not looking after Meiko anymore?!

Hewwo... I was a totah bitch?

Was?

SHADOW!

Nightwish stopped the developing argument by laughing. Whatevew. The point is, she's had someone scwew wiff hew head. We have to watch hew... Nightwish' eyes hooded as Mercury looked blank for a second. Annnd youw twainer just towd you to watch hew, wight?

Mercurry smiled, nodded, and the trio broke apart to do their part to help set up camp.

It was a simple affair: No tents. The ground was still damp, but the evening air was cool and the starry sky clear, so the tents were set up as a tarp. The group neither demanded that Tuesday be with them, nor made their grouping uninviting.

Cooking sausages to eat was, perhaps, a little cruel, but still Tuesday didn't join them. She sat, instead, her eyes turned to the direction she was travelling.

When she fell asleep, against the tree, it was almost more than any of the other three could bear, but they kept to Tuesday's wishes. The only concession the group made was for Reilly to take a blanket Meiko pulled out of her pack and put it over the sleeping girl, along with some sausage in a bun wrapped in a few napkins.

When Reilly woke a few hours later, Jaima and Meiko were asleep, and Tuesday was gone, her blanket left behind.

"Unbelievable!" Reilly didn't make any attempt to lower his voice, awakening Jaima and Meiko. "I knew it! I knew this would happen! She's go-- You didn't take car--" His voice trailed off in a fit of rage.

Jaima ignored Reilly for the time being, looking at Mercury, who was looking in the direction Tuesday likely went. Tuesday, she reported after a moment, making sure everyone heard, is not far. Shadow's with her, but she doesn't know it, or at least doesn't seem to.

Reilly stood, bemused, as Jaima and Meiko rolled to their feet, packing quickly. "You... you knew?"

Jaima grinned. "This isn't the first time. Probably won't be the last. I told you, Reilly, it's not about stopping her. It's about helping her."

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Jan 20 2013, 03:54 AM

The world rolled beneath her feet, tilting wildly every which way. It seemed to her that she was standing on a board that was balanced precariously on a ball that was rolling downhill. It kept going, faster and faster and faster, and it was only a matter of time before she slipped.

Tuesday gripped her hair in tight fistfuls close to her head. Her feet were unsteady, her walk staggering, as she made her way through the forest. She had forgone the man-made, and even poke-made, paths, in favor of the one that glimmered constantly in her mind. She could feel the way that she was supposed to go, as though someone had carved the route into her mind with a dagger made of sapphires.

Zorro. The path led to Zorro.

It led to other things, as well. The Kingdom, the Fae, the ralts who had pretended, danger, dragons, lies, confusion... it led to so many things, but Tuesday ignored all the rest. Her only concern was for Zorro.

She could feel him, still, in the back of her mind, as though when he had appeared in her dream, he had taken presence there. Still, he lingered there, in the back of her mind, like a promise, a plea. If the Fae had hurt him...

Well. They were already going to pay for taking him.

"Gotta get him back first, though, Tuesday," she muttered, loosening her fists and gently smoothing out her own hair. The gesture was comforting - an action done to soothe another person, but it seemed odd when the person being soothed was the same one giving the gesture.

"Get him back first, then worry about everything else. But you will get him back. You have to, so you will, because you have to." She nodded her head vigorously, her fingers gripping the bottom of her shirt until her knuckles were bloodless. Her lips moved, the words "Have to, have to," barely audible on them, muttered over and over in a mantra. "Have to, I have to, have to..."

"How far would you go?" The little girl appeared elfin - a child of the Fae. Her flesh was beautifully pale, her hair made of golden, ringlet curls that hung down to her waist, decorated with pink and golden blossoms. Her movements were fluid, her face gentle, but her eyes were cruel. Her tone was soft, curious, but the words were cold. "You wouldn't go as far as you needed, we both know that. You'll turn back before the end, and then he'll be ours. Forever.""

Tuesday's eyes snapped open, her entire body tensing at an attack, but she made no sound. Grey eyes swiveled first one way, then another, searching for danger, but finding none. She swallowed, blinked, and slowly relaxed. As her muscles untensed, she allowed herself to slide away from the tree and get her feet under her to push herself into a standing position.

She stared off into the distance, toward the direction she had been traveling and would yet be traveling. She stood that way for ten minutes, unmoving but for her breath, gazing into the darkness of the forest. The sun wouldn't rise for another two hours, at least, but she couldn't wait. Zorro couldn't wait.

And she wouldn't make him.

Ashleigh's pokeball was in her pocket and that was all she needed.

She took another step toward the Kingdom, and kept going.



They kept following her.

Like ghosts, haunting her, they never stopped.

The ones that hurt the most stayed behind her. The human ones, whom she remembered dying, kept out of her sight. She didn't look back at them, but she could hear them. They murmured to each other, and at first, they had attempted to talk to her, as well, but she didn't respond. She wouldn't look at them.

They weren't real.

Maybe she was mad. That would explain everything. If she were mad, everything would be clear. But Tuesday didn't think she was mad, not completely. She was being haunted by the ghosts of those she didn't have the strength to protect. And her mind, memories, fear, wishes, hopes, dreams were being manipulated by those that had manipulated it before. They were making her see her dead friends as alive now, just like they had made her believe she was living a normal life - slaying dragons - a pokemon trainer - dragonslayer.

Tuesday put a hand to her forehead, grimacing tightly. Everything was spinning out of control. She wanted - needed - to sit down, to take a break. She needed to lie down and sleep this off. She needed to relax, to let it go, to give u--

NO!

Tuesday forced herself to her feet, staggering away from the small clearing in which she had been prepared to camp. She would not give up! She would not turn back and let everything go! She would rescue Zorro! She would! She had to!

She was breathing heavily when she looked around, surprised to find that she was alone. Apparently, her ghosts had left her, which was just as well. She could ignore the ghosts of Jaima and Meiko well enough, as they had kept behind her, but some of their pokemon... they had tried to get her to interact with them, running up alongside her, and she hadn't been able to help herself staring at them. It had nearly brought her to tears every time. And the first time she had thought she'd glimpsed Shadow out of the corner of her eye...

No. She couldn't lose it now. She had to keep moving.

"Keep moving," she murmured to herself. "No sleeping, can't stop. Come on, Tuesday, miles to go." She struggled onward, exhausted. "Miles to go... before I sleep."



It was a peaceful night.

They had defeated the dragon and, victorious, had collected their reward and moved on. A large clearing in the desert, surrounded by high rocks to protect against the wind, had made an ample camping spot, and they had settled down. Laughter and friendship had both been in high spirits during dinner, and sleep came swiftly for them all.

And then dragons.

The fire came before the roars; a surprise attack in the middle of the night, meant to destroy them. Tuesday had woken quickly, rolled to her feet, her skin flushed cold with fear, but burning from the heat. She'd called out Odysseus, the floatzel putting out the fires in the campsite first, protecting them from incoming flames, white the other pokemon attacked, the humans each grabbing their weapons.

Even outnumbered, the dragons were too fierce for them. The scent of burnt fur and cooked flesh filled the campsite. The blood of pokemon, humans, and dragons ran together like rivers, soaking the ground. A great dragon lay sprawled across the high rocks, the membrane of its wings shredded, grounding it. Smoke curled from its nostrils as its chest rose and fell, great breaths of air like a symphony in the background of the after-battle.

Reilly was gathering the pokemon together, seeing who was hurt, when Tuesday found Jaima.

Steadfast and immobile were admirable traits in those who took on defense. Stubborn, Tuesday had so often remarked, when she noted that Jaima and Grondir had a lot in common. But the bulbasaur had been especially weak to the dragon's fire, and even the greatest stubborn attitude couldn't stop a dragon's claws.

Tuesday gripped Jaima's hand tightly, her other fisting in his shirt. Kneeling next to him, her knees were getting soaked, but she paid no attention to it. Her eyes were on his face, her words spoken in a furious whisper. She still remembered them now.

"You'll be okay. Jaima, you're gonna be fine. Just let Reilly take a look at you."

She had called out for Reilly, holding onto him tightly, trying to ignore the shake of his head and that damn smile, meant to comfort but only making it hurt so much more.

"Y' gotta take care of her, Tuesy," he said, his fingers tightened around her smaller hand. "Mei... will you take care of her?"

Tuesday looked around, her eyes searching for the older girl. She caught sight of Reilly, standing a few feet off. His eyes tightened and he looked at the ground, shaking his head. Behind him, Tuesday could see the pokemon who had survived the battle.

There weren't many.

"Tuesy..."

She turned back to him, pulling his hand close to her chest and holding onto him tightly. "I'll take care of her, Jaima."

Dim eyes searched her face. She saw what little light was left go out in them. He smiled softly at her, but she could see he didn't believe her.

"Good," he murmured, relaxing, his eyes slipping closed. "Good. Take care of her."

"Jaima! Reilly, get over here!"

"I don't-"

"Now!"

"Tuesy."

"Jaima, Mei-chan's fine, and you'll be fine. Just... just hold on. I promise."

"Tuesy."

He smiled at her again, but it didn't reach his eyes. The fire in them had gone out. He still painted the smile across his lips when his hand pulled out of her grasp. Tuesday kept talking to him, kept trying to tell him that Meiko was fine, that he would be fine, but Jaima wouldn't look at her.

She couldn't blame him.



Tuesday snapped awake, jerking forward, her eyes snapping open. Shivering, she rushed to her feet and looked around, face pale. She'd heard something...

A child giggled behind her.

Tuesday spun.

There was a little girl, long golden longs hanging to her waist, her curls full of flowers. Her hands were clasped behind her and her blue eyes were bright with icy humor.

"What's the point in continuing on? There's so much further to go; too much further for you to make. We both know you'll give up before you get there." She took a few dainty steps forward, long dress bouncing with each graceful movement. "Lie back down. I know you're so very tired. Go to sleep."

Tuesday screamed with rage, grabbing a rock off the ground and throwing it at the girl. "GO AWAY!"

The rock hit a tree and bounced off into the underbrush. Tuesday spun in a circle, searching the woods, but there was no one to be seen. The child had disappeared.

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" she screamed, spinning in the other direction. "I won't quit! I swear it, I'll never quit!" Her hands fisted at her sides, nails digging into her palms. "Never."

She started walking again, furiously brushing leaves out of her hair. SHE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP! She stormed through the forest, tongue thick, head muzzy, body aching. She was exhausted and running on nothing and she knew it, but she couldn't stop. She wouldn't stop.

Her fingers found Zorro's pokeball in her pocket and she clenched it tightly in her hand. She'd get him back.



The ground smelled of blood and fresh-tilled earth. Tuesday's hands were covered in blisters and mud up to her elbows, but everything was done.

Stones marked the place where they had laid them down. There were too many underground, and those remaining were too few.

Tuesday swallowed thickly as she stared down at the fresh earth.

"This wouldn't've happened if you had been stronger."

Tuesday spun around.

There was a little girl there, with waist-length blonde hair, curls drenched in wildflowers. She wore a dress the color of the sky. It matched the laughter in her eyes.

"None of this would have happened if you'd been stronger." Her eyes were daggers. "You let them die." There was a loud yipping behind her, a familiar sound. Tuesday spun again.

"Zorro!" she cried. She felt the riolu there, as though his presence snapped into place in her mind and, for a moment, everything was right. The jackal was fighting off the hands of two people trying to hold him in place. As she watched, they got a firm hold on him and stuck a needle in the side of his neck. It was only a moment later that the riolu went limp in their arms.

They held him tightly and, with a small pop and a flash of light, they were gone.

The little girl giggled. "You know... it'll be your fault when he dies, too."

Tuesday screamed, whipping around with a snarl. She launched herself at the girl, whose look of surprise was almost comically inhuman.

She didn't think about how she was moving, whether her legs or hands should be making each motion. All she could think of was attacking, and so she attacked. Her instincts, her rage, took care of everything else. She just moved, and kept moving, and kept attacking.

She didn't care about anything else.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Jan 29 2013, 09:20 PM

"Oh," muttered Reilly as he pulled his own, worn backpack ono his back. "It's about helping her. That's a relief. I don't know what I would do if it wasn't about helping her..."

Meiko glanced at Jaima. Despite his muttering, Reilly was not trying to be subtle, almost as if he had made sure the older teens had been listening. If Jaima had heard Reilly, however, he was doing a fine job of ignoring it.

Except for that twitch in the corner of his lip. Which Meiko found adorable.

They travelled in silence for a while. Jaima took the lead, with Meiko trailing him slightly. Reilly took up the rear. Before they had travelled too far, there was a pop from the rear of the group. Meiko looked back to confirm her suspicions, and was slightly surprised to see Reilly cradling a buneary, who was looking into his face with what appeared to be a mixture of adoration and petulence.

The silence stretched, with both Jaima and Meiko looking back at Reilly, both to be sure he hadn't left them (after all, the last they had seen him he hadn't been keen on sticking around) and in concern over his silence.

Mercury and Nightwish looked at each other as they travelled. When their trainers became exceptionally worried, Mercury gave a light giggle, and Nightwish rolled her eyes.

If you'w going to teww you twaineh, teww them both.

Mercury's eyes widened, though she didn't' stop in place as some might when startled. Really? Are you sure?

The mental sound of Nightwish' voice was easily recognizable to a pokemon that dealt with emotions on a regular basis: affected annoyance. Mercury did not let on that she knew it was a cover, however. Tawking is a fwee action. You wewe... fwiends with Meiko befoe I came awong. Mercury evidently couldn't hold back the smile she felt growing at Nightwish's word. The gothorita turned away, flushed. Knock it off, you'w cweeping me out!

Sorry, she said to Nightwish, then, before the other psychic could change her mind, she spoke to the couple that were their trainers. Reilly's having a conversation with the buneary.

Jaima and Meiko blinked at each other, then at their pokemon, then at each other's pokemon. Meiko, luckily for Reilly's sense of self-confidence, caught herself from speaking aloud in the nick of time, and her mental question was relayed to Jaima in the speed it took for Mercury to process it. It's psychic?!

Yes, she is psychic.

Is she a danger? came Jaima's voice, sounding dull and a bit ashamed to Mercury's trained senses. He was, unexpectently, on the receiving end of amusement from two pokemon, but Meiko at least understood the question.

Pwease, Nightwish' voice flowed through their conversational link like ice. She's about as dangewous as a puppy dog. She's as much a pwiss as that vulpix youw fwiend has, and not neawy as smawt.

While Jaima and Meiko struggled to keep straight faces at the mental image of the bumeary with crossed eyes and blonde hair, Mercury mentally rounded on Nightwish. Hey! How did you know about Lady?!

Nightwish smiled smugly. I have my ways...

If you have been sneaking in my mind...

Maybe I've been awound longew than you think...

Mercury narrowed her eyes If you had, you would have known about Squit, and you didn't!

Oh, I wasn't with you evewy second. I have a wife outside of you, you know.

Do you? Is she pretty?

Nightwish looked, briefly, confused, before she gasped. Oh, you fight MEAN!

And don't you forget it...

* * * * *

Shadow stuck to his namesake. It wasn't out of any kind of worry. Sensei Tuesday would not hurt him. Rather, it was that Sensei Jaima had been specific: do not be obvious. Do not let her know she is being followed. Do not make her feel chased. He had not said all of those words outloud, but they had been implied, and though Jaima had no aura powers, Shadow could still accurately read what was there.

So he stayed to the shadows. He knew, from twitches in her head and aura, that something was not right. But with Sensei Jaima and Sensei Meiko and Kohai Reilly so far behind, Shadow didn't dare intervene.

There was a confusion in her aura. It was as if she had two, or, sometimes, three. One was the Sensei Tuesday he had come to grow fond of (different some how, but naturally so, so uch that it hardly registered), one he had, to his shame, considered training himself at one time. Her aura was still strong and viable, but suppressed, like a tied strong man, straining but unable to break what bound it.

The second was not the binding aura. It, instead, flickered and pulsed, sometimes adding its strength to Sensei Tuesday's, sometime's separating, as if watching closely, guaging when to help. This aura was similar to Sensei Tuesday's, but different. Older, but by force rather than age. It was also not strong, not in the classical sense: It's strength was, for lack of better expression, false. Shadow did not sense a malevolence in it. Instead the emotions it carried were reflections of the true aura's: confusion, anger, fear, and determination, expressed similarly, but different.

The last was hard to pinpoint, and was not a part of Sensei Tuesday at all. It was sneaky, though, and could have been a flicker of conflict between Sensei Tuesday's real aura and the false one. He did not know, could not know, and so he watched.

Shadow..?

Shadow found himself smiling, and wondered at it, but did not let it distract him. He had, after all, forgotten that he was not truly alone, only ahead, and the others would catch up as soon as they were able.

I'm here, Little Mercury. Have you started?

Of course, Mercury answered matter-of-factly. Trainer Jaima might have even heard her go. How is it going? There was a pause, but Shadow could feel that Mercury was working up to ask something. Finally it came out. Trainer Jaima noticed that the sausages from last night were gone...

Shadows smiled, sadly this time. I have them. She left them behind.

Mercury sighed. I was afraid of that...

Shadow looked at Tuesday, who had stopped. Her head was down and her fists were clenched. Whatever was wrong was taking concentration to fight. Shadow ventured closer. To answer your first question, not well. She is obviously fighting something. There's also something desperately wrong with her aura. It's a wonder the Little Brother isn't out of his pokeball, t-- She spun, and he stilled himself. The spin was fast enough to briefly raise her jacket past her waist, and Shadow observed that the only pokeball she had was the one she held in her hand. Something is definitely wrong. She only has one--

Again he was cut off, but not because of something he saw. She had, obviously, seen him, and now Senseit Tuesday was charging him. The very idea of it was so shocking that Shadow didn't move, and her hands pressed against his shoulders, puching him with a mighty shove. Surprised, Shadow was pushed back to stagger.

She was yelling at him, but he did not heed her shouts; her aura made it clear it wasn't him she was seeing. Her shouts, even her hands, were aimed elsewhere. She was not looking at his head, but at his neck, and she was not striking the way one should strike an enemy lucario, but pushing, shoving, in frustration. There were no closed fists or outright slaps, but pushes, shoves, even some attempts at throws. At one point, Shadow struck out at her, testing her defences, but she had none. The food he was holding pressed against her mouth, and a piece entered. She swallowed it reflexively, still angry, more than likely unaware of what had just happened.

Shadow briefly wondered if he could get her to eat more during this ersatz combat. Then it was over, and Sensei Tuesday dashed off, legs straight, body pitched forward in determination.

Shadow..?

I'm fine. Surprised. Sensei Tuesday just attacked me. But it's worse. I think something happened to Zorro. She doesn't have his pokeball. She doesn't have any but the one in her hand...

Mercury gasped, and Shadow, sending her reassurance, broke all but the lightest of connections so that he could concentrate on following her. Only then, when Shadow couldn't hear, did Mercury blink and ask, Sensei Tuesday..?

* * * * *

"She attacked Shadow?"

Jaima scowled, still walking, while Mercury reported back. Yes, and he says she was struggling with something before, but he was cut off...

There was silence, mental and physical, as the trio took in the information. Nightwish looked at Mercury, bit her lip, then sighed.

Teww them the west...

Mercury glared at Nightwish, but the motion from the humans showed that she had not been sending only to the other psychic.

"Tell us the rest of what," Meiko asked, softly, somehow more devastating than the growl she had expected from Jaima.

Mercury sighed. Nightwish was, of course, right. Shadow says she only has one pokeball with her...

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Feb 17 2013, 11:33 PM

It was as easy to find the Kingdom as it was difficult.

They hadn't wanted her to find it, that much had been obvious. Every time she had tried to think of the way that she and Reilly had come, her mind blurred, as though filled with a fog.

Tuesday's mind was a... a strange place. It was her solace; a place she could disappear to and hide when things became too much to deal with in the real world. When things were hard at home, when the loneliness crept in or Anika was being particularly horrible, or her parents were arguing too loudly for her to ignore, Tuesday would slip into the fortress of her mind. She would bury herself in the running thought processes that could carry on for hours if she chose to let them. Wrapping herself in her thoughts, Tuesday would think.

She would think and think, on anything, on everything. People often commented on Tuesday being smarter than average for her age. Some even called her a genius. What most people didn't realize was that Tuesday spent most of her time thinking. Even while battling, while eating, while sleeping, she lived in a duality, part of her mind constantly running through lines of possibilities; endlessly learning, endlessly thinking.

Even Tuesday would admit that her predilection for constant thought helped her when it came to figuring things out. When she needed to recall something, it was easier for her to remember than it might have been for someone more inclined to look it up when needed. Tuesday didn't use a pokedex, instead memorizing information on pokemon and knowing types and weaknesses. She carried a map with her, though she looked at it sparingly. She remembered the way that she and Reilly had traveled from the Kingdom of the Fae. She remembered the path that their feet had walked. She should have had no problem retracing it.

Except for the fog, and the blurring of her mind.

They didn't want her to find it.

But she had found it, because they hadn't counted on her being shown the way.

Zorro. It all came back to Zorro.

She knew it was him. She could feel him, settled partway in her consciousness, as though he had a foot in her mind, beckoning her onward. The path had been clear, even through the fog, with him leading the way. Tuesday had been required to but follow, and now, here she was.

Her eyes narrowed, staring at the palace that rose up before her, all marble and stone, too white to be real. She wondered how much of it was a trick of the mind, like the fog that hid her thoughts from her.

Would they hold up the charade, she wondered, continuing to proclaim her a dragonslayer? She had thought about that a lot as she'd kept moving toward the Kingdom. She knew she wasn't. It had been a trick - a dream. She had tried to still her thoughts from centering on it, but as always, her mind had been insistent. Those memories were false, planted by something else.

But they were perfect.

Perfect memories, as pristine and burned within her mind as though they had happened. She couldn't shake them, and she hadn't focused too deeply on the memories of her friends dying, because she knew doing so would end her resolve.

And she needed to rescue Zorro.

Dragonslayer or not, she would take these Fae, or pokemon, or psychics, or whatever they were, and she would destroy them for what they had taken from her.

All that they had taken from her.

She wondered if Zorro knew that she was there; if he could sense her presence like his lingered in her mind. She couldn't determine his precise location, but she knew that he was close, and that was enough. For the moment, it was enough to quell her terror that he was here and okay.

He had better be okay.

Tuesday walked across the white marble path that led to the palace, and she slipped into the tall castle without a fuss. Her mind briefly questioned her hands why they hadn't bothered to push open the door, and her brain questioned how her body was able to pass through the solid stone that had blocked her path.

Illusion, a part of her mind whispered in answer. Unimportant, another hissed, and she moved on.

Her footsteps make no sound as she walked through the large hall. Her thoughts latched onto this with a furious glare in the direction of her senses, angry that they had not caught such a thing before.

Illusion!

We know. We did not catch it. We are fsooorlriysh.

She ignored the lack of sound. What had her attention was the lack of people.

She had not seen the blonde Fae-child since she had attacked her. Her fury at herself at having been caught in rage and briefly forgetting about Zorro had kept her moving at a swift pace, but she didn't think that would have done anything to halt the child finding her. Something else must have kept the girl away, but she didn't let her mind focus on it.

Unimportant.

Her eyes scanned the hall and took in little. There was little to see. The floors and walls were made of white marble stone - Illusion. - and they faded into nonexistence, disappearing and leaving a vast nothing where they ended. The sections where this nothing existed - But how can nothing exist? Is nothing a nonexistence? Is this a place where nothing exists, or something doesn't exist, or nothing nonexists? - flickered in and out, never in the same place twice, always visible only in her peripheral vision. She couldn't look at them directly, because seeing them would surely break the spell, but she knew they were there.

Illusion. Incomplete. Unimportant. Where is Zorro?

She walked on.

There were no decorations. She wondered if the illusion was falling apart around her, slowly saturated by her own thoughts and left to dissipate, or if they weren't putting as much effort into casting the illusion as they had before. Perhaps she was becoming intolerant. They hadn't meant for her to come back.

The girl had said she had thought Tuesday would give up, leave Zorro to his fate.

Tuesday would never give up.

She found them in the center of the palace, huddled together in what appeared to represent a Great Hall. There were seven of them - far less than she had remembered, a few more than she had predicted. They retained their Fae-like forms, elaborate nature-based clothing and pointed ears. Tuesday could almost see them beneath the illusion, however. She couldn't see them well enough to identify what they were, but she knew they weren't Fae.

"You've returned," the queen whispered. "We were hoping-"

"I am not an idiot."

The words tumbled past her lips without her conscious consent, her voice quiet. Her tone, as firm as the ground beneath her feet, stopped the lie from dripping any further from the Fae Queen's false lips.

How many times had Tuesday said those words to people? People who looked at her and mistook her for being younger than she was, then mistook her in an even greater mistake for being less intelligent than she was. This would not be the last time she told someone she was not an idiot, just as it wasn't the first. The fact that she had said such a thing before made this moment seem so very...

Irrelevant.

She was not here to determine what they were, to inform them that she was smarter than their games. She was not here to play puzzles and solve riddles. She was here for her partner.

"Where is Zorro?"

She felt a chill settle on her own arms, her skin dotting with goosebumps, at her cold tone. She had not realized that her voice could sound so dangerous, so angry. She knew that she was furious, blazing with rage, but she could not feel it. It was located somewhere else, separate from the part of her mind that she was settled in now, and there was a cool feeling surrounding her, like a gentle breeze, so very capable of turning into a deadly tornado on just a whim.

The Fae Queen - Áine, her mind whispered - shook her head. Her face seemed calm, but beneath the surface, Tuesday could see turmoil. Hesitation... fear... it rippled around her softly, lapping at her skin in blue waves. It was almost not-there, but Tuesday could see it.

"You gave him to us," said another. Tuesday's eyes found her, recognized her instantly. Sláine.. The healer who had supposedly been helping Zorro. "He is not your any longer. He belongs to us."

Tuesday felt something within her mind tremble. A wall, hastily-built and badly-made, between Real Tuesday and Dragonslayer Tuesday, cracked softly, before crumbling into dust. She felt the false past and the present merge together, and suddenly her mind was filled with all of the memories of learning to fight dragons, of slaying monsters, of being the kind of person that she needed to be to perform the tasks that she had - hadn't really - done.

And she felt Zorro, there, somewhere, within the palace, and there, in her mind, snap to attention. He knew she was there. He knew she had come for him. She knew he was safe now, because she. Would. Not. Leave. Without. Him.

Ashleigh's pokeball was warm in her hand, almost burning.

"You are not Fae. The rules of the Fae do not apply to you, or to me." Tuesday's eyes narrowed into slits as she regarded the one who had tricked her into giving her poke-brother away. "Give him back to me. Now."

Sláine raised her head. Defiant.

Idiot.

"No."

The sound of the pokeball snapping open startled the seven of them. Tuesday saw them twitch at the sound. It didn't matter - Irrelevant. - but a part of her mind still cataloged the knowledge away as something to look at later, something to know.

Ashleigh appeared at her side in a flash of crimson light, a patch of blackness against white marble. Tuesday imagined she could see the quiver of the Fae's limbs as they regarded the hound.

Tuesday felt Ashleigh tense next to her, as though something had suddenly occurred to him, and a great growl rumbled up from within his chest. Tuesday regarded Sláine with cloudy blue eyes encased in a cold fury, her mind running through a multitude of decisions she could make. She stood at a crossroads here, and now she had a choice, but there was only one she wanted to make.

She saw the Fae's eyes widen in fear, though she did not see why. Her blue eyes filled with the crimson light of Ashleigh's gaze, until she was glaring at the Fae with blood-cloaked eyes. Her lips pulled back to bare her teeth as Ashleigh snarled.

The houndoom lunged forward without Tuesday even needing to open her mouth. The thoughts burned in her mind.

Make them pay.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Jun 21 2013, 10:15 AM

Jaima and Meiko knew they did not find the place on their own. They knew, somehow, that they wee lead to that point just as surely as they had put one foot in front of the other to get there. Had they been questioned about it, and given time to think about it, even briefly, they would have freely admitted to not truly intending to find this place they were searching for.

Reilly, who was following Jaima to find Tuesday, had no such compunction. He would have told the truth from his perspective: He followed them. They found it. Simple.

In truth, they were all right. The psychic energy trying to push the trio of humans away was either dispelled by a pair of mid-evolution psychics, or ignored since the goal, to find where Tuesday was, was different than the barrier, which was against them finding them 'castle' in the first place.

As complicated as this had been, the worst was yet to come, and the two psychics looked wearily at each other, knowing it.

We need to prepare her.

Nightwish made a face that was not perceptable to those without psychic senses. I don't even want to get neaw hew. It's like... wahking neaw a candy and gwittwe factowy...

You're not actually telling me you don't like candy... Like Nightwish, Mercury's look of incredulous skepticism was only "visible" to those with psychic powers.

Nightwish huffed mentally. Don't be wedicuwous. Of couwse I wike candy. Candy factowies awe compwetewy diffewent. The smell is... gwoss. Sweet, but cwoying.

Mercury didn't answer for a while, and Nightwish soon became concerned that she wouldn't. Finally, like a soft breeze, the sheepish voice came through. Ooh... cloying... Nightwish rolled her eyes.

So what do you want to do?

Mercury glanced back at the buneary. We still have to prepare her. We can't protect our trainers and hers...

Nightwish sighed. Psychic Pwane?

Mercury nodded. Psychic Plane.

Nightwish grumbled to herself before sighing again. Fine. But if thewe's a wot of gwittew and ponytas, I'm weaving.

Coward.

* * * * *

It was harder to move.

Not that the two teens, walking, or sometimes stumbling, next to each other, each holding their psychic types in their arms, consciously understood that it was harder to move. It just was.

Things were happening a frequently that couldn't be explained or weren't noticed. Neither Jaima nor Meiko had noticed when Mercury or Nightwish had stopped floating along. Neither remembered pulling the pokeomon close.

Neither remembered why they were walking anymore. It was important that they keep walking, in this direction, but walking was getting hard to do.

Jaima felt himself sinking, as if into sleep, and shook his head to clear it. Briefly he was granted the clarity to wonder if they were still going in the right direction, then it was gone, and he faded again. He felt as if he would fall over, but knew, somehow, that he wouldn't. He would continue.

He looked over at Meiko, but her face blurred before he could see it. She, too, seemed to be struggling to stay awake, but the blur didn't stumble and fall, and neither did...

He was in a large room, one that was very familiar to him, even though he hadn't been there in quite some time. It was the assembly room in Professor Elm's lab, where, traditionally, pokemon were handed out to ten year olds just beginning their training. It wasn't the ceremony that a lot of other regions made it. Professor Elm preferred a relaxed environment. Like a small party. Jaima had attended quite a few when he'd worked for Professor Elm. But this one was heart droppingly familiar.

He looked around, and, there, eating snacks off of napkins and looking at the special placards the Professor had had created for the occassion, were a little blonde boy with a red headed girl leaning over his shoulder. They were comparing pokemon.

Little Jaima and Little Meiko.

He watched them, biting his lip. He knew what day this was. He knew what was coming.

The professor walked into the door. Jaima hadn't noticed when he was younger, but now he could see that the Professor was pale, almost worn.

"Jaima..."

The Professor kneeled next to Jaima, speaking. Jaima didn't remember the words. He never had heard all of them, just "father" and "accident" and others that let him know what had happened. He watched as his younger self's face twisted through emotions, from it's beginning happiness through fear and disbelief, and finally anguish. The boy stood and dashed out, leaving the Professor and Meiko watching after him. The boy approached him, on a collision course Jaima knew would be bypassed harmlessly. Instead, as the boy passed, he felt himself being pulled along, like a newspaper in a windstorm.

They stopped, and Jaima had to relive the worst day of his life.

* * * * *

She was here! Finally, she was here!

Ever since she had been a child, since she had moved to Johto, she had wanted to come to Blackthorn for their cultural festival. They had come into the habit of having an annual cultural festival on a near monthly basis for the different cultures that had come to be a part of Johto, and the Japanese festival was, in the words of her mom, "almost as good as the ones in the homeland!"

Not that Meiko would know. She had never been. But for as long as she knew her, Meiko would listen to her mother speak of her homeland, and the Blackthorn City festival.

The festival was held during the time of hanami, the traditional time of the blooming of cherry trees. Because they did not grow in the city itself, trees were brought in, and the festival was festooned with them, between tents and stands and games.

Because the time of Hanami was traditionally spring, nights could be cold as easily as warm. Tonight was a cool one, but Meiko was wrapped in a traditional kimono and was warm enough. Beside her, in a non-traditional pair of jeans with a hanami top that was open down the chest, one arm in the sleeve, one arm out and across his stomach, was her boyfriend, Toshiro Yamamoto.

He was dark haired, broad chested, boisterous. At first, they got along famously, at least, after the childhood years when he would torment her and push her and her friends around. As she journeyed, they would meet, from time to time, and, as they grew, so did their attraction.

Lately, however, things had been... off. Little things annoyed her. His flipping back his shoulder length hair, or putting an arm too tightly around her shoulders. She tried not to let little things get to her, was certain he had similar complaints, but the instances of arguments ending in him staring at her mutinously before she turned to storm away.

But tonight, nothing could get her down. She was finally there, the Blackthorn Festival!

It was just like she remembered it (remembered..?). They played some games. They ate great, traditional food (why is this going so fast..?). They even sampled sake. (I don't want this to end...!)Briefly there was a... discussion about how Toshiro was dressed, (I don't want this to happen...) but the sake made sure it was mild, and they decided, instead of getting upset, to go for a walk.

(I tried so hard to forget...)

They were in a small copse of trees, away from the crowds, away from the lights. She was leaning against one, he hovering over her in a way that, had she not been through the heady experience of the festival, let alone the sake, would have annoyed her. He leaned down and captured her mouth, and she responded, vigorously.

He pressed against her, and she felt a stir of panic, but ignored it.

She felt his hand press against her, and she pushed, teasingly, telling him no.

She felt his other hand. Under her kimono. Her heart went cold. Her pushing became forceful. She whispered, harshly, no.

He didn't stop.

He touched her.

She shoved him away, yelling, angry, aggressive.

And her breath was driven from her. She fell back, into the tree, slid down it, her eyes widening, pain blossoming around her gut.

Toshiro was looking from her to his clenched fist, eyes as wide as hers. She gasped for breath, and again, as the air had left her.

He looked at his fist again, as if he'd never once seen it before.

Then he smiled, and looked at her...

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Jul 28 2013, 11:52 PM

He was alone, but he was not alone.

He had been brought to this room after his hermana had left the young girl take him to fix his arm. He hurt, and so he was not displeased to be getting his arm healed, but he did not like the idea of leaving his hermana.

She had the others with her, of course, and she was well and truly able to take care of herself - he knew that from experience. Still, their separating seemed foolish to him.

But she thought it would be all right and she worried for his health, so he went with the healer.

There was no one else in the room with him, but there was someone else in his head.

The girl had brought him to a room that seemed cut off from everywhere else. It was compact, almost stuffy, cut off from everywhere else. There were no windows to the outdoors, the only exit the door they entered through. Zorro couldn't tell how the room was lit, but it was as bright within it as it had been outside.

The healer set him down on a table he hadn't noticed before, and she'd gone to a shelf at the far back of the room and brought a small container forward. It was a bottle he was familiar with. A potion.

She brought the potion to him and sprayed it on his broken arm. He felt the healing properties take effect immediately, as the liquid dampened his fur and soaked quickly into his skin.

The healer didn't say anything to him, and Zorro kept his head down, uncomfortable with being in a small room with this stranger. He needn't have worried, as she didn't stay long. As soon as his bone snapped back in place with a loud crack that made his whole body ache, she left the room and closed the door behind her.

He heard the lock snap into place, and he didn't question the trap.

There, but not there, another force lingered in the blank spaces between one thought and the next.

The locked door didn't bother him. It was almost not there at all in his mind. His attention was focused inward, on his thoughts, on the tremulous feeling in his mind. The glimmering someone else that dwelled there, connected to his thoughts but separate.

It was his hermana.

He knew her. Of course he knew her. There wasn't anything that could keep him from knowing her. No wall or mask or illusion could separate the two of them. They'd been together too long.

They weren't quite the same, not yet. She was young, still learning. He was small, untrained, blind in the ways he instinctively knew he would one day be strong. One day, he would be able to see the things that Shadow could see.

But not yet.

He didn't know how long he was there. It seemed a short time, minutes flying by in clumps so large whole hours passed as seconds. And yet it dragged on and on, so long that he knew he must have been there for an eternity. Forever and a day, trapped in a room alone, with the presence of his hermana lingering in his head, but faded - a ghost of companionship. She was not here.

He'd been left behind.



Time passed and little changed. The sitting grew old and Zorro stretched his legs, wandering the small room, curious. There was little to see. The floor and walls were rough, like stone, but pure white as though they were made from white. The door remained locked but it didn't bother him - he did not question why.

He found the shelf in the back of the room containing the potions. They were stacked one atop the other, piled too-high on the shelves in a haphazard mass. Where they had come from, he could not tell. Their age was anyone's guess. Some of them appeared fairly new, but others... the colors varied, as did the languages the labels were written in. If Zorro had to guess, he would say that the potions, revives, antidotes, and all the rest had been picked up wherever they could be found. Stolen, even.

How strange.

He searched through them, scattering some from the shelves in his attempt to grab a few. Some he recognized - the potions were familiar. A few smelled a little odd. He thought he recognized the smell of the revives, and then there was one that smelled familiar but more potent. He picked one up on a whim and carried it with him back to the table, taking a seat again.

The room was too quiet. Zorro focused his attention on that glimmer in his mind. That glimmer was Tuesday, her presence a whisper in his mind. He felt safer with her there.



He slept. He dreamed. Tuesday was there, calling to him. He could hear the desperation, feel it in his own chest. The need for them to be together, the desire to fight everyone who dared stand in their way.

He called out to her with everything, his voice, his mind, his soul.

And then he felt the hands on him.

They were there, squeezing through the cracks in his consciousness, slipping into his mind, holding onto his arms in the real world and pulling him away. He felt the Suggestion - sleep, you want to sleep - fall over him like a sudden rain, soaking him, burying him beneath their ministrations.

He fell beneath them. He fell away from his hermana.

He slept.



He woke, disoriented. Alone. He wasn't tied down but he felt, in his mind, the Suggestion. Stay. Sleep. Remain.

And burning, in his mind, stronger still than the Suggestion.

Tuesday. It all came back to Tuesday.

She was here. Here, in this building. So close. So near to him, and desperate. He could feel it.

She came for him.

She came back for him. For him.

No Suggestion, no matter how many times it was forced into his mind, could keep him from going to her.

Because she had come for him.

Zorro pushed himself to his feet. He glanced toward the door. It was still locked. It was still unimportant. It was just another wall, and no wall would keep him from his hermana. No wall could separate him.

Zorro felt the power coil within him, as burning hot as her presence in his mind. He let it fill him up, from his chest to his claws, trembling and trickling, burning and pulsing.

It was all he was. It was all he could be.

"Rio!" he cried out. "Riolu! Luuuuu...."

Posted by: Master Houndoom Jul 30 2013, 09:26 PM

He could hear the rain on the canopy. Not a hard driving rain like it always was on TV or in manga during funerals, but a very light rain. It was only slightly dim, the clouds not quite covering the sun. If not for the sound of it, Jaima may not have noticed the rain at all.

He didn't look around. He didn't have to. There was a dark blue canopy above them, and one on the other side of the… he swallowed thickly, forcing himself to acknowledge it. The casket. Other people were there, the long sides of the casket surrounded by people. At a narrow end, where his father's head supposedly lay, was a priest, droning, speaking words Jaima couldn't quite hear in a low voice. It was, in its way, comforting. At least, it allowed Jaima not to have to think. He kept his eyes on the casket.

He stood slightly away from his mother, who had been so very quiet since Jaima had come home from Professor Elm's, panting. She had explained, of course, in a voice that held no emotion, no inflection. There had been an explosion where Dad had worked, which had set off a chain reaction, which had caused the building, a Pokecenter, to collapse. He had gone back to save some of the other workers.

Kei Kuonji had died a hero. It had seemed of very little importance at the time.

The twins, barely able to understand what was going on, clung to their mother's legs and refused to let go. Not that anyone was trying to make them. At least they were quiet.

Everyone was quiet. It made Jaima antsy. But he wouldn't squirm. It was like he felt the need to move, but had no energy to do so.

He tried to listen to the Priest, to have something to distract him. That was when he heard it.

"It should have been you."

Jaima blinked, then looked, up and to the left. His mother was looking at him, her eyes widening, her hand snapping up to cover her mouth. Tears began to roll out of her eyes, and she shut them. But not before he saw it.

She had been looking at him with undisguised malice.

Her eyes were shut, and… something, something deep inside him, told him to let it go. It wasn't important.

If she felt that way, maybe it was true. It should have been him. His dad needed to be here to take care of him mom and sisters. What could he do?

Indeed. What could he do?

* * * * *

She ran. She ran quickly, not through the carnival, but in a direct route through the trees, back to the hotel. She could feel dirt kicking up behind her, some catching on her kimono, but she didn't care. Terror ran through her, her heart pounding. He had struck her. He had actually struck her!

She tore into the poke center, ignoring the people inside, ignoring the nurses, dashing through the halls until she got into her room and slamming the door behind her. She knew she had climbed some stairs, her room being on the third floor, but she hadn't felt it. She grabbed the most familiar looking poke ball on the belt that was on her bed, and released the massive feraligatr inside.

"Chompwater--" Her throat closed, and she finally felt the hot tears dripping down her face. Chompwater looked at her as she crashed against the large reptile's chest, sobbing.

The lizard had no way of asking what was wrong, not in a way that a human could understand. She did have comforts to offer, though, and stroked her claws as gently as she could through her trainer's hair.

Then came the pounding. Meiko jerked, not turning toward the door, as Toshiro's voice shouted through it.

When the first bone rattling crash sounded against the door, everything went grey, then stopped.

"I think that's quite enough of that…"

* * * * *

"Trainer Jaima?"

Jaima jerked. There, in the audience behind him, was a young girl, dressed in a white sun-dress. She had blue hair with two large red barrettes on either side of her head. Her eyes were a darker shade of blue. She seemed familiar.

She was on his other side, and he ignored her. Until the sky, and people, and casket went grey. Everyone, except for him and the girl stopped. He still stared at the casket.

"Trainer Jaima, look at me."

Something was happening. Something bad. He gritted his teeth. "Go away. I shouldn't be imagining anything like this right now!"

"I promise," the girl said, sadness in her eyes. "You're not imagining this. You're under a psychic attack."

Jaima blinked, looking around. His mother's face was still in her hand, and tears were flowing between her fingers. Except that they weren't moving. One drop was suspended between her two fingers, almost detached, but still hanging, still waiting, as if frozen in place. His sisters were just beginning to look up.

The priest's hand was out, giving the final blessing, Jaima thought, though he had no idea where the idea came from.

The girl, the only other non grey entity in the place, took his hand. He looked down at it. It felt strange, like the hand was not really there.

"So none of this is real," he said, quietly, quieter than he felt.

"It was. It's a memory. I think. Something is off about it." The girl glanced at Jaima's mother, and Jaima felt a hot flush of anger that he quickly battled away.

He, too looked up at her, then at the girl, squeezing the hand. "Was that real? Did she say that?"

The girl pressed her lips together and sighed. "I don't know. I… we're bonded, you and I. It's the only reason I can break through. The illusion is too strong otherwise…" She looked, again, at the woman, then at the two young girls, and then, finally, into Jaima's eyes. "But, in the long run, does it matter?"

Jaima felt his face crumble in confusion. "Of co-"

"You know her, how she was after the funeral, how she was after that. She showed she loved you. The words were obviously said in anger. Either she said them, and never meant them, or she never said them, and this is a reason to make you despair. So I ask again; does it matter?"

Jaima looked back at his mother, feeling himself begin to grow, the world around them begin to fade. "No. No, I guess not…"

* * * * *

Meiko was pressed back against Chompwater, who was as grey and still as everything else. Her hands were raised in a warding gesture, and she snarled slightly, trying to frighten off or intimidate the black haired girl in the black mini dress in front of her. "Who are you?!"

Oddly, the girl smiled, sadly. "A fwiend."

Meiko blinked. "I don't have any friends out here." She said, looking at the grey door, which was still bent inward, as if something on the other side were still trying to get in.

The girl's smile grew, pretty despite, or perhaps because of, the gothic look. Her black minidress was festooned with white ribbons, as was her long hair, and her face was pale. On closer inspection, Meiko could see pale lavender ribbon entwined in that hair.

"I wish I could teww you how wong you awe… You have so many fwiends hewe, whewe hewe weawwy is…" She stopped, shaking her head, and sighed. "This isn't a weaw pwace. You'we undew psychic attack."

"Psychic attack..?" Meiko rubbed her stomach, but the girl nodded.

"Smaht giww! Some… or quite a few… psychic types awe puwwing memowies fwom you and using them against you…"

"So this isn't real..?" Meiko couldn't stop the note, or look, of hope from voice and face. The girl, however, looked down, away from her.

"It's weaw enough. It happened. Just isn't happening now."

Meiko looked crestfallen. "Then he…"

The girl simply nodded. "That much, yeah… not suwe about the pounding on the doow… that might be just to keep you afwaid."

As the girl watched, Meiko's face crumpled, at first as if she were about to cry, and then, surprisingly, into a scowl, the a snarl. The room, the grey parts, faded. "That bastard."

The girl smiled. "This is why I wike you. You don't cwy when things get wough."

"All men are bastards," Meiko spat, causing the girl to step forward and grip her arm lightly.

"Whoa, whoa, now, don't go too faw!" She pulled Meiko to look into her eyes. "You know bettew. And if you stawt acting wike this, you'we going to be usewess when it comes to a battwe. And it wiww." The girl lowered her voice, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "You've found someone a thousand times bettew than this guy… and you'we happy. Wemembew that…"

Meiko looked at the girl, swallowing thickly. "How do I get out of here?"

The girl smiled. "Fowwow me…"

* * * * *

They stood straight, and blinked together. Jaima and Meiko hadn't been aware that they had ben standing still, but when they looked at each other, his face grim and pale, hers stone eyed and tense, they knew they had had similar experiences.

Mercury and Nightwish floated near their trainers, looking slightly worse for wear, but otherwise all right.

It was Jaima who spoke, looking to see if Reilly was as affected as they were. "How long-"

Mercury answered immediately. Not long enough. We're here.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Sep 20 2013, 11:52 PM

Later, if asked, Tuesday wouldn't be able to say what exactly broke her concentration. One moment, she was elsewhere, her mind buried somewhere fierce and hot, fire pounding through her veins with every beat of her heart.

And then there was a feeling - the feeling - of something rushing over her. A wave, overwhelming, all-consuming. It grasped her in a hold she could not break and tore her away from where she had been wrapped in flames that burned and blazed, bit and howled.

For a moment, a terrifying moment, she was deaf. There was a blackness surrounding her worse than darkness - blindness. There was nothing in the air that she could smell, nothing on her tongue which she could taste. She was floating in a vast nothingness, unfeeling, alone, bereft of everything. Bereft of anything.

Then the wave struck around, bowled her over, sent her gasping, shrieking, screaming, crying in pain-wonder-terror-amazement-happiness-loneliness-confusion-fear.

And then the wave became.

And Tuesday became.

And Tuesday was the wave and the wave was she, and the world around her was an ocean of blue, lapping and crashing, receding and bursting. It terrified her and it thrilled her. It made her want to flee, and it made her want to jump into endless waters where the waves would tear her soul asunder and remake her.

And she wanted that. She wanted it desperately, and not only because her mind was a cat's cradle mess of the Tuesday that had been before and the Tuesday that was a DragonSlayer but who didn't really exist. The linear threads of time were tangled in knots that wouldn't be undone, not without cutting the lines of her past and finding some way to paste the tattered remains back together. What was left behind from the salvage would be a Tuesday that had never been before, one that might never be again.

And she wanted that - to be unmade, and then remade. To be fixed, to make the two lives pressing against each other in her head become one, so should could be Tuesday. Just Tuesday.

Whoever Tuesday turned out to be.

"Lucario!"

The walls around Zorro did not exist. He knew that now. The white stone that seemed to glow with its own unearthly light wasn't real. There was no palace in which a kingdom's hierarchy existed. There were no Fae. It was all, everything, an illusion. An elaborate ploy, the reasons for which he did not know. He didn't quite care.

His hermana had come for him.

Illusion or not, there were dramatics in play. The masks these creatures - these mindgame-players - wore were of the Fae, and those who dwell in the Faerie Realm do love their games, they love to dance, and they love the stage on which it all is set. If nothing else, a shadow's dream on a midsummer night would tell us that.

Bound in walls that did not exist, Zorro was free to leap from his cage and take on the Fae-that-were-not. And leap he did, bearing his own mask of play and tricks, for he was Zorro.

The walls about him shattered, like shards of glass, slivers of a waking dream, and the riolu leapt free even as the change took him, a white light making him taller and faster, stronger, altering his sight. The little riolu became a lucario, his heart thrumming with happiness, for while there was a battle to be had, while they had been lied to, while he had been caged in a box of shadows, Tuesday had come for him.

It was enough to make a donphan fly, but Zorro was content to evolve. And take on the world.



There was a flame that burned in Ashleigh's heart. It thrummed beneath his skin, a constant. It was a blaze that brightened his eyes with fire, warmed his fur with the heat of a star. The houndoom had a sun burning in his heart, and he would do anything for the little pup that had saved him.

But Ashleigh could not take on the world and win. Dark though he may be, and strong, he was not strong enough to take on seven pokemon, even those who trembled to see him, who saw a void where stood a pokemon.

Even dark against a psychic, he could not win when he was outnumbered, when he was alone.

But she had asked. Alpha. The one who would lead his new pack. She had asked, and Ashleigh could do nothing but answer.

He would do anything for her.

And so he spat curses with fire and bit illusions with teeth that tore through masks and shredded what lay underneath. He roared to scare them back, to chill their souls. He burned to send them running, to make them hurt for hurting his Alpha. He bit and scratched and snarled to show that he would not stop. And he howled.

He howled a call of begging, because he could smell the tiny dancer, the pretty ballarina who was so close and who might fear him but who was strong. She would stand next to him with her pack and her kin and make him strong, because he would not be facing an army alone.

Ashleigh howled. The Fae trembled.

And suddenly they weren't Fae anymore.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Sep 26 2013, 11:34 PM

Jaima set his shoulders and jutted out his chin. "OK. How do we g-" Mercury stiffened in his arms, and his voice trailed off in sudden awe. Where there was once a mound and a derelict tree, was now a tall, sweeping castle, white walled and elegant. The courtyard was paved in pearl cobblestones, and a gate, a massive gate, made of gold and silver intertwined in seamless bars barred their way. Jaima heard Meiko breath out in wonderment, but did not know what she said. The spectacle was so terrific, the sight of it blocked his other senses.

Two guards, large and imposing, stood at each side of the gate. Their green and white armor shone, as did their swords, and their golden hair flowed from beneath their helmets. Jaima wouldn't have been surprised if there were pointed ears under their helmets.

Aw, HEWW no! Nightwish growled mentally. She floated in front of him and Meiko, holding up two hands which glowed with black energy. Wast one to weave my twainew awone gets a face fuww of Dawk Puwse!

The guards looked at each other, eyes narrowing, then stepped toward Nightwish, their swords drawn. Mercury appeared behind them, her eyes glowing an eerie smoked purple color. LLLet's not make this go too far, gentlemen...

One turned to face her, but arched to the side, hissing as the attack struck him. The other was bowled aside by Nightwish' dark pulse, landing hard on the ground.

The scene wavered, shimmered like the face of a pond struck by water, but righted itself. Still, the thrall that Jaima and Meiko had been in was broken. "Wha--?"

The two guards looked at each other, and then the scene shattered like glass, replaced by the tree and the mound, the guards replaced by two semi-large kirlia. Both looked at Nightwish and Mercury, scowling, before teleporting away.

I stiww say that's cheating...

Mercury shook her head, and her eyes sparkled their usual blue as she regarded Nightwish. I'm using my natural gifts, the same as you, she said, defensively.

Not you, dowk, the tewepowting!

Mercury glanced where the two kirlia had once been. Oh. Yes, completely cheating.

Except when you do it, wight? Nightwish commented acidly.

That goes without saying.

Meiko stepped up and hugged Nightwish, who stiffened in surprise. "That was amazing!"

Jaima graced Mercury with a smile. "It really was. You'll have to tell me how you learned that, Mercury." Before she could answer, his face grew solemn. "But right now, we have to get to Tuesday."

Meiko nodded, her own face growing solemn. They stepped forward, into the hole in the mound that was opened by the tree roots. Reilly, behind them, followed almost mechanically, still gaping at the display he'd just seen.

* * * * *

The cavern stretched on. Shadow had not lost Tuesday, but she wasn't in his sight, either. Even as close as he'd followed her, he'd missed a turn she'd taken with an almost familiar ease, as if she'd been there before.

The cavern stretched underground for miles, he could tell it, and there was an entire community down here, spread out, hiding. Only a small percentage of them were strong enough to act as a defense, but they were strong. Once in a while he'd find himself seeing bright halls and guards where there were none. Only the senses unique to his species kept him from falling into that thrall.

He was close, though. He could sense her, bright, shining intensely enough to be sensed through the walls.

Then another light flared, brighter that her, at least briefly, and Shadow found himself turning toward it. He recognized it, he swore he could, but the intensity flared bright and then faded to normal, and he lost it.

It didn't matter. Something was happening, and Senseis Jaima and Meiko had to help.

Shadow began to back track, intent to lead them to the battle.

* * * * *

Meiko's fist, the hand that wasn't holding tight to Jaima's, clenched at her side, bumping her thigh as she walked, briskly, down through the tunnels. She didn't care about the dirt, didn't care about the heat in the tunnels, whether it was too cold or too hot. She wanted to deal with the... she couldn't even put the words into thought. The ones that made her remember what she had tried to forget, what she had successfully forgotten, needed to be dealt with, harshly.

She looked at Jaima, feeling a swoop in her stomach that had nothing to do with how she usually saw him, and brutally shoved that away. She didn't trust her feelings, but she knew that she was being influenced by them all the same. All the more reason to put a stop to all of this, one way or another.

I can hewp, you know.

Meiko grit her teeth, willing herself to see past the red soaking through her mind. She shook her head. She had to deal with it now, build up defenses against the fear and the anger that Toshiro's act had caused in her, and she wasn't going to hide from it anymore.

She'd deal with this threat.

Then, when she could, she'd deal wit Toshiro.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Oct 14 2013, 10:25 PM

They were back at the palace, and that was the least of the wrongs in the world.

He and Tuesday had run from here. They had escaped from here, Fae on their heels, run and run and fled the danger until they had reached a town where there would be safety. A town where they could begin again, start something new. Make a... a family.

And then it had all proved to be a lie.

That blissful moment, that feeling of safety, a lie. Zorro hadn't been Zorro. They had been tricked, the riolu's form stolen by one of the Fae. Tuesday had unbottled her rage, let it lead her back toward the palace, toward Zorro, toward danger, and blinded her. Blinded her from the trickery of the Fae. Wrapped in her fury, it was beyond Tuesday to recognize the presence of Meiko and Jaima. Beyond her to see that they were there (not there). She'd blinkered her gaze, as she so often had during their search for dragons, to see only the path before her. She was blind to the lie.

She did not notice Meiko's presence. The lie. She did not notice Jaima's presence. The lie. She did not notice their pokemon. All lies. She did not notice Reilly. The truth. The only truth that remained.

She'd gone off, and he had tried to keep up, as was always the case. Dutifully following her, walking behind her, caught in the overhang of her shadow even as it was the red carpet for his feet. He trailed in her wake, unable to keep up with her, for her mind ran too fast for him to pace her. Still, he followed the trail she left behind, unwilling to let her go alone, even if she would not be alone with her pokemon beside her. Unwilling to let her traverse the world - the dangers in it and pleasures both - without him. Unwilling to let her wander into war or peace without him at her back.

It was the strangest revelation to have, that you would follow willing behind someone as they walked into heaven or into hell, uncaring which it was, so long as you were by their side. It was terrifying, or would have been, had he room in his mind to be terrified. He did not. In his mind, there was only the desire to follow, to remain with her, to fail to pace her but still grasp the barest edges of her passion, her knowledge. To, in the whispers of her genius and strength, know her, as she was. Be a part of what she was. Become something in that world in which she lived - another shadow trailing her, cast by the sun, a follower only, but there. Known, present, there - an unspoken companion, but a companion nonetheless.

He followed her, even as she wandered blind back toward danger, knowing that she went only because she dared not leave a friend behind. Knowing that they had lost too much already to allow for anything - anyone - else to be taken. He followed her even though she ignored the danger she walked in, enemies at her back, and knowing that she was too blinded by rage and loss and passion to realize the danger he walked in, surrounded by enemies.

Because Meiko and Jaima were dead. Not here. They could not be here. These two human-seeming creatures that walked with him, speaking amongst themselves as though to emulate his friends and the casual domesticity that had always filled their travels. They did not draw him into conversation often, which was well. He did not think he could have kept his temper had they tried overmuch, but he made a gesture to circumvent any attempt by spending much of the time halfway wrapped in thought, Morgana's sweet voice dancing through his mind. Vocally, he remained a silent shadow trailing them trailing Tuesday, but his mind was awash with words and thoughts as he conversed endlessly with the buneary.

It was a small mercy in a merciless situation. Particularly when Tuesday abandoned him to it.

It was not the first time. It would not be the last time. Her mind was too quick and her body had always rushed to keep up with it, leaving the rest of the world in the dust. If not for the rules that governed the world, she would have long since passed the need to remain on this sole planet, this sole universe, and gone elsewhere.

Blessedly, for him, at least, she was contained. She may have run ahead of him - of them - but he would follow yet and find her. He always did. She would run ahead, lose him in the dust of her speed and her genius, but he would track her and he would find her. He never couldn't find her.

It would have bothered him that the others were using his knowledge of tracking her to follow, but they already knew where she was going. These illusionary creatures who appeared as the friends that he had lost, the friends who had shattered Tuesday with their leaving, were merely his entourage as he made his way back to the palace. A trick he would not fall for, even if falling might have dimmed the ache.

They just seemed so real. The concern they showed, particularly Jaima, who had always been close to Tuesday. Unnaturally close, for someone who had not known her long, as though there was a connection there, something that ran deeper than mere emotional attachment. Something like the aura that surrounded Tuesday, that she knew of but couldn't herself rightly explain, that Reilly could not have understood even if she had been able to. It was so close, so similar, that he might have fallen for it if he hadn't known better.

And Meiko. Reilly barely restrained the temptation to punch the changeling. To take Meiko's inherent kindness, the gentleness that ran parallel to her strength and make a mockery of it... it was an insult to the person she had been. A strong trainer, a kind companion, a good friend - someone you could rely on, who wouldn't turn their back on you. Someone who fought and loved and lived, and these bastards twisted that, mocking it, trying to emulate it to hurt him, to hurt Tuesday. It was reprehensible.

He barely held back the temptation to forego the aid of his pokemon and attack her, him, it. The creature. The temptation was strong, and he was only able to resist because Tuesday had run ahead. Because he needed to follow. Because she was throwing herself into danger, without him, and he needed to make sure he was close by, close behind her, another shadow to cover her back and soften her fall. It was the only thing that stayed his hand, that attacking might indirectly bring harm to Tuesday.

He turned his back on the changelings, tuned their mocking mimicry from his mind, and followed in Tuesday's wake.

They were back at the palace, and that was the least of the wrongs in the world.

Reilly had followed, trailing her, his shadow stretching long, for even this far distant, even with her so far ahead, they were connected.

And they were back at the palace and power burned in the air. Heat, dancing, tantalizing, whispering across his skin and crawling beneath it and behind his eyes and in the roots of his teeth and twitching inside his ears, digger deeper deeper deeper into his brain.

Reilly shivered, clutching Morgana tightly against his chest, seeking comfort he was unwilling to ask for. Terrified, for no reason. He was terrified.

And he could feel her scorn, wondered at it, his gaze questioning. Not hurt, his eyes displayed none of the hurt, because nothing within him ached at that dismissal.

"Because he's being stupid." she snarled, though it didn't sound like she was talking to him. She must have been, and her voice echoed in his mind, the chime of a dagger's blade against a rusting iron helmet that offered no real protection. His throat was bared and she went for it, words as sharp as a knife, deadly as a garrote. "You're not even trying! Idiot!" And he didn't understand. What wasn't he trying? What was he supposedly being stupid about? Why did the world burn and his ears ache and his hands twitch towards the pokeballs at his belt.

"Reilly?" Jaima asked.

Not, not Jaima. Jaima was dead. False-creature, changeling, liar. The lie.

The pokeball was out of his hand before he had realized he'd even grabbed it, Indiana appearing in the flash of red, the monferno prepared for a fight, as always.

"I'm not helping an idiot," Morgana hissed, and Reilly felt the words wash over him. No. No, he wasn't being stupid. He was strong enough. He could defeat the changelings, even two on one. Morgana might not believe in him, as his father hadn't believed in him, but they wanted to hurt Tuesday. He could take strength from that. Barring any power of his own, all the strength he would ever need lay there. They wanted to hurt Tuesday, and he would not let them.

The world lit up with fire as he commanded the monferno to attack.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Oct 21 2013, 10:33 PM

They had gotten deep into the tunnels. Meiko let go of Jaima's hand, pulling a poke ball from her belt, and Jaima kept his up by his bandolier. Peeking back, he could see that Reilly was still behind them, still preoccupied. Maybe it was the little psychic boundary in his arms occupying his mind. Either way, Jaima hoped he was't getting the same treatment he, and if he could tell by Meiko's stiff shoulders and Nightwish' reaction earlier, his girlfriend had gotten.

In truth, he was starting to worry about Reilly. He had been vocal when they started, but as they'd gotten closer to Tuesday's evident goal, he had gotten quieter and quieter. Reilly was't the most open sort, but Jaima wished that he would call out if he were in any kind of trouble.

But, then, they hadn't been able to…

Jaima stopped as Reilly did, his face beginning to show signs of fear and confusion. The younger boy looked down at his boundary, who's face held an expression Jaima couldn't interpret. Jaima looked over his shoulder at Mercury, who, after the attack at the "gates", had taken her post at Jaima's shoulder, standing sentry in a way, handling the communications with Shadow, and, he could feel, protecting him. Nightwish had taken her pale at Meiko's opposite shoulder, giving Jaima a sense of Meiko and he sharing the same shoulder angel and devil.

He'd have to apologize to Nightwish for that.

Don't bother, Trainer Jaima. Nightwish would appreciate the thought. There was a hint of rolling eyes in the communication, bt the voice was tense, terse, as if she were dealing with some troublesome situation. He didn't want to bother her by asking, so he looked at Reilly. His expression was one of quiet terror.

"Reilly?"

Reilly's eyes snapped to his, without shifting his head, and… something… came over his face. Jaima stopped, and so, too, did Meiko, turning to look back at the younger man. His face was growing stormy. In one swift motion, with a look of mixed anger and fear, he pulled a poke ball off of his belt and tossed it, calling his Monferno into the battle.

The look in his eyes told Jaima all he needed to know, and he threw his pokeball, the one decorated with blue and orange, and called Tsunami to the field.

"Wait!"

Meiko put a hand on his arm, and Jaima looked back at her. The Monferno dashed in for an attack, and Jaima commanded, "Bide!"

Meiko's lips were pressed into a firm line, but she nodded, recognizing the need both for Tsunami to protect herself, and to buy her some time. "I'll handle this. You find Tuesday."

"Mei-ch-"

Meiko shook his arm. Not hard, but with a look he recognized, a fierce determination. "This is a distraction, Jai-chan. You know it. I bet even Reilly knows it, deep down. I can handle this, you go get Tuesday, and we'll join you once this is sorted out."

Jaima looked back at Reilly, who was pulling a second poke ball from his belt. The attacks weren't dangerous to Tsunami, not yet, not as large as she was, and the type advantage was a help, but finally he relented. "Tsunami, can you release the energy safely?"

She doesn't need to, Trainer Jaima. If you recall her, it will dissipate. Shadow is coming to get us now.

Jaima nodded and waited. Meiko called out Chompwater, and Jaima recalled Tsunami. "OK, Mei-chan. Be careful."

"I intend to."

Jaima turned to leave, and Meiko turned back to her battle. She pulled another ball from her belt, calling out Desertdancer, and the sandshrew took a stance next to Chompwater. Then, as added insurance, called out the torchic, Blazeclaw as well.

Reilly's face dropped into a deep scowl, but that scowl was relaxed by a sudden astonished look when Chompwater was recalled back to her pokeball, with a surprised snort on the part of the feraligatr.

"Desertdancer, Sand-Attack! Blazeclaw! You too!"

"Chic chic chic!"

Both the sandshrew and the torchic scratched at the ground, sending plumes of sand into the faces of the grow lithe and monferno, as Meiko regarded their trainer. "Reilly… Reilly, this isn't you. Something's happening. It's going to be OK."

Despite her comforting words, Reilly's face screwed up in anger. He didn't speak, he didn't shout, but he paced, fiercely commanding his pokemon to press the attack.

"Keep up the Sand-Attacks, Blazeclaw! Desertdancer, Sand tomb!" She looked at the boy, who scowled in anger. "Reilly, I don't want to hurt your pokemon, but you have to snap out of this!"

* * * * *

Shadow motioned for Jaima to follow, walking slowly through tunnels and caverns he had long since memorized. It was good that he had, as he was distracted. The bright flash he had seen before finally pinpointing Tuesday flitted in the back of his mind, drowned out by Tuesday's rage-soaked aura, by Ashleigh's sympathetic presence, feeding from and mirroring his trainer's heart, and the palpable fear of the creatures around him.

Psychics. Like Mercury, but not like her. Long ago having lost the morality, which in the little kirlia had been reinforced by her trainer's teachings and influence. There was an undercurrent there, not of shame, but of survival. They did what they had to do to survive, and had no compunction that it would ever be any other way.

It did not make them right, Shadow knew. But it made them, at least, sympathetic.

Shadow worried. He worried for Tuesday, both for the odd behavior that caused her to take this trip without her nakama, and that she exhibited on the way to this odd place. He worried for her current rage, that she would end up doing something she would ultimately regret. He worried that, somehow, she might bring the others into it as well.

Why she did not consult with her brother-figure, he didn't know, but he felt that whatever it was that lead her to this place had prevented her from seeking Sensei Jaima out. If so, it was a compulsion, and that, he felt, justified some of this reaction.

Still, he worried. And with Mercury leaning on him, pulling from him to keep her own mind stable against the onslaught of mental attack against their Sensei, he could not further burden her by sharing his worry with her.

He, then, would watch. The absence of the Little Brother was troubling, but he would step forward until the Little Brother was able to come and reclaim his rightful place.

* * * * *

What is wong with you?! Why awen't you hewping him?!

The buneary's face screwed up in malice. He's being an idiot! He refuses to listen! Let them have him for all I care!. Unlike Nightwish, Morgan was broadcasting for anyone in the vicinity with a link or the mildest of psychic ability to hear. Nightwish grit her teeth.

And what if he can't?! That's what you'we thewe fow! You hewp him when he can't hewp himsewf!

Nightwish could feel more than see Morgan's arms cross. There was, however, desire the petulant child sound of the words, power and… malice… behind them. If he can't, he isn't trying hard enough! That isn't my problem!

Nightwish blinked. Was she ever that bad? Was she ever so negligent..?

No, came the aghast voice of Mercury came, sounding stretched.

Don't deal with this, deal with your trainer, Nightwish shot in a small fit of panic. She received the oddest warm sensation through the newly forged link.

It's OK, I'm just leaning on you… it's getting worse the closer we get to where Tuesday is… I'm sorry for the intrusion. Besides, I really couldn't help but hear…

Nightwish sighed. If Mercury had had to lean on more than one psychic, and she could sense Shadow close by, also supporting her, things must be bad indeed. All the more reason to end this. Fine. I'm taking cawe of this.

She felt Mercury react. But he--

She shot a quick image of what was happening, cutting her off. He's attacking my twainew. I think I have a wight to step in now. Mercury did not answer, but did offer a feeling of support, one that Nightwish found meant a lot.

Closing her eyes, leaving just enough of a shield that Meiko would be safe, Nightwish surged forward. From the "guards" before, she took her imagery; a tall, willowy woman in flowing black robes with pearlescent skin. He hair was done up high, off of her thin neck, and her dress plunged in the front. She looked, for all the world, like the stereotypical evil queen. It was, to put it bluntly, embarrassing.

"Well, hewwo thewe," she said into his mind, her purple eyes hooded, smiling. He turned toward the illusion, though no one else could see it. "You've wet me wight whewe i need to be. Thank you so, so vewy much..!"

Reilly evidently didn't trust himself to answer, but scowled in confusion at her. She stroked his cheek in the illusion, and he flinched away. "Wetting my minions get into youw mind so easiwy… And now, I'ww use you to cut down aww youw wittwe fwiends…"

"N-no," he stammered. "You can't..!"

She leaned in, right into his face, and smiled evilly. "Can't I? Who's going to stop me..?"

He pulled in a breath, and yet he didn't. She could tell something was happening in his mind, and though she feigned shock, internally she smiled.

He thrust his hands forward, shooting in his mind, "GET OUT!"

And she was expelled. A hard, candy looking shell he knew was the imagery Morgan must have chosen, sprang up around him. Deftly, she adjusted the shield, here and there, strengthening it, before "cursing" him and disappearing as a flock of ravens.

Pushing her out had pushed out the other illusion, and, accidentally, Morgan. The little boundary was apoplectic in her rage. What did you do?! You idiot! I'll kill you!

Nightwish merely sneered, putting most, if not all, of her mental attention back to Meiko. You'we an ugwy wittwe cweatuwe, awen't you?

Morgan gasped, sputtering. Well… well… y-you're a goth emo bitch with a speech impediment!

Nightwish sneered. Yeah, weww, that's an act, deawy… youw ugwiness weawwy isn't… With that, she slammed the connection closed, making sure she still kept an eye on Reilly. Just in case, of course.

What… what did you do?

Nightwish stiffened, defensive at Mercury's quiet voice. I defended my twainew.

But… you lost… you let yourself lose… you hate to lose…!

Nightwish relaxed, smiling, and leaning, slightly, just to get her breath back, of course, against Mercury's braced mind. Not weawwy, I didn't… I was making suwe he pushed me out, so he could push them out… he did… and since that's what I wanted, I won…

Mercury didn't answer. Not vocally. But she felt the warmth flood their connection, like a hug from a long lost friend. It was no longer a surprise that she didn't hate it.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Oct 23 2013, 01:01 AM

Reilly shook his head, blinking rapidly.

There was a sort of fuzzy feeling in his brain, not unlike the feeling he got right after cold medicine kicked in and his thought processes decided to digress to muk-paced. He blinked again, as though doing so would clear out the film that coated his brain as easily as it did the sand that stuck in his eyes when he awoke in the morning.

A memory flitted through his mind, briefly, almost too quick to grasp, of a tall, slender woman, beautiful and terrifying at once, dressed all in black with a horrible sneer across her face. He tried to place her, tried to slot her appearance to a name in his mind. There was something about her that told him that she wasn't real in the way that he was real, and yet, she was more real than he was a moment ago...

Oh. Malificent. The villain from Sleeping Beauty. Right, that was the last time he discussed Disney movies with his sister in an email.

Casting the thought of her from his mind, Reilly looked up, glanced around. Had he been consciously thinking of it, he might have noticed that the re-categorization of his mind took barely a second, the synapses in his brain firing and thought processes occurring within a moment. It was usually psychics who noticed this most often, and those with close encounters with psychics, and since Reilly was the latter to some degree, it was probable he might have noticed if he had taken a moment to.

He didn't bother, however, instead casting the thoughts from his mind of anything that had occurred prior to that moment. His brain noted that it was unimportant without consciously asking him from input one way or another, and so he didn't bother to question what had occurred. If he had, he might have looked back and been bothered to encounter a blank spot in his memory, a place where a series of memories that didn't actually occur had once dwelled. Reilly, though, had never been a person who dwelled on the past - he was very much a man of the here and now and the future, and so he didn't look back, he didn't see the void in his memory, and he didn't worry on it.

He did, however, feel very confused to look up and see Meiko standing across from him, two of her pokemon out, standing in front of Indiana and Phoenix, the four of them looking as though they had been fighting. As though they had been battling.

And Reilly didn't remember calling out his pokemon...

His arms tightened instinctively on Morgan, hugging the buneary close to his chest as a child might cuddle a stuffed animal in a moment of discontent. He ducked his face down toward her, his mouth opening to whisper a question, to ask what had happened.

"Get off me!" Her words were sharp, echoing out around him, projecting telepathically but for anyone in the vicinity to hear. He felt the barest echoes strike almost physically against something in his mind, a shield he hadn't realized that he had been projecting, red like an M&M and tasting of chocolate to his mental sense of taste.

He didn't release he quickly enough, apparently, because Morgan's paw swatted out, catching him across the cheek, her tiny claws burning as they cut him shallowly. He jerked back on instinct, arms loosening, and she jumped from his grasp at the first chance, rear legs kicking him hard in the chest. She didn't land on the ground yet before her paw snapped out and slapped a pokeball on his belt. There was a flash of red light and Morgan disappeared, sucked into the pokeball.

Reilly stared down at the spot where Morgan had been about to land, one hand pressed against his lightly-bleeding cheek. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was trying to figure out what he might have done... of course, maybe he had been blocking her with the shield and she had been trying to talk to him. If he had been ignoring her, she might have been angry, though it hadn't been intentional. He must have done something...

Glancing up, he saw Meiko watching him, her face oddly hopeful.

He pulled his hand away from his cheek and checked it. His fingertips were a little pink, but he was sure he'd live. Knuckling his cheek for good measure, trying not to wince pathetically, he looked back up at Meiko, sparing a glance at her pokemon as he recalled Phoenix and Indiana with a whisper of thanks, though he wasn't sure what for.

"Did, um... did something happen that I don't know about?"

Ashleigh lunged and ducked and bit and snarled and howled and breathed flames. The world danced in front of him, Fae screaming and running, ducking and trying to fight back. A swung blade from the hands of one of the Fae guards didn't seem to act quite right, didn't feel like a blade should feel - shouldn't it feel like claws? Ashleigh did not focus long on the thoughts of things not being quite like they should be, because nothing was like it should be when there were people attacking his alpha. And he didn't need to think about it when people attacked his alpha, because there was only one response for him to act with.

He would defend her.

And he bit and breathed fire and ducked the swing of a blade, only there was a sound behind him as though the blade had been thrown and missed him, only it was still in his opponent's hands. He was confused, but not confused, because he didn't bother to focus on the blade that mustn't be working properly, because he needed only to attack. And if the Fae dropped the blade and it disappeared into smoke because Ashleigh bit down on the Fae's hand, then that was all the better.

His head wasn't filled with Tuesday anymore like it had been a moment ago, and he felt lost without her there, but not lost, because he knew what to do without her needing to tell him. He had only to defend her, and that was easy, even if she didn't give commands. Defending was easy. Ashleigh used to defend his pack, even though he had been small and weak and a runt back then, he had still tried to defend. And now he could defend his alpha, only not just try, but do and succeed and be a good dog, which is what Ashleigh really wanted. He liked to be a good dog, because good dogs got belly rubs and hugs and love and they got to keep their trainers because a good dog kept his trainer safe.

And Ashleigh dodged again, and once more, and then bit, and bit fire, and jumped on the swordless Fae's face, because he tried to get by Ashleigh to attack his alpha, and that was not allowed. Because Ashleigh was a good dog and he wouldn't let his alpha be hurt.



She was there, inside his head, and he felt whole like he hadn't realized before that he wasn't. He was filled up inside, full for the first time in his life, and he thought that surely he would never be hungry again, or thirsty, or lonely or lost, because she was there, and that meant everything was right.

Zorro slid down a rocky cliff wall and didn't pause, dashing off. He knew where his hermana was. He could feel her. She was there, inside his mind, but also there, some distance ahead. Only he knew precisely where there was and so he could follow her, find her, and be with her, in his head and outside of it, too. And once he was there with her, he wouldn't ever leave again, he knew that. It was important. Because she was his, and he was hers, and that was forever.

He knew that. If he never knew anything else, if he forgot everything else, he would always know that.

She was lost. Confused and alone, but not alone, because things weren't right. Ashleigh was with her, Zorro knew that, because his hermana knew that Ashleigh was there, but there was also confusion. Because Tuesday was Tuesday, but not the Tuesday he was used to. She was another Tuesday, different, older, lost and hurt in her heart and scared and very, very lonely.

Only she shouldn't be lonely, because Zorro was there, even if he wasn't quite there, yet. But he would be there soon, and then everything would be right. And the things that weren't, he would fix.

He dodged to the left to run around through a separate tunnel that would cut a few seconds off of his journey - how did he know that? - and he thought about what it was in his hermana's mind that wasn't quite right. There was something there that didn't belong, attached to her like a leech, sucking comfort out of her, sucking innocence and youth, and leaving behind something else - that lost feeling, that pain.

There was a sensation in his heart, a I have lost everything feeling that Zorro remembered when he was young and he lay next to his mother long after she had stopped being warm. He remembered the feeling, recognized it, and it frightened him, because his hermana only had Ashleigh fighting beside her.

Where was everyone else? Did she lose everyone else?

And where was Jaima, who was strong? Where was Meiko, who was kind? Where was Shadow, his brother, who was wise? Where was the pretty ballerina, who was fierce? Were they all gone?

All gone, a voice in her head whispered, echoing into his. They're dead. They're gone.

And it chilled him, scared him, made him ache and whimper and shiver and slow. He stumbled to a halt in the cavern, brought to his knees and curling up within the darkness of too-close walls and too-far between them.

Lost. Everyone was lost.

All gone, the voice whispered.

A little girl's voice. Cold and giggling, like a child that was too pleased with the wording to be a child.

Zorro drew a deep breath. The air was warm.

"Tuesday." He thought her name. Thought it hard, as hard as he could with a mind that could never reach her like the pretty ballerina's mind could. And yet. And yet, he felt, for a moment, as though he had. Not the word. Not even her name. Just a feeling.

"Tuesday. I am here."

Zorro.

He ran.

He didn't try to tell her that they weren't lost. Didn't try to tell her that they weren't dead, weren't gone, because he was not the pretty ballerina and so he could not send his thoughts. But he thought, maybe, he could send her a feeling. He could send her all of his feelings. He could feel his love for her and send it like a paper airplane through this strange connection they shared. He could send his trust and his faith and his friendship. He could feel hope as hard as he could and send that, too.

Because Zorro didn't trust the little giggling child's voice that whispered They're dead, and Zorro didn't believe that even death could stop Jaima the strong from protecting his hermana.

Because they were family, and Zorro knew what family was. His mother had taught him that. Family was many things, and dead was not one of them. People got cold, but family didn't.

And maybe, maybe Zorro was just a little stubborn, but that was okay. Stubborn could be useful.

He could feel a little stubborn and send it through their link, too, because maybe his hermana needed to feel just a little more like she wasn't going to take their crap.

He rounded a corner and blinked at the sight that he saw. Shadow's back as the lucario jogged down the cave tunnel, Jaima at his side, his pokemon with him. And the pretty ballerina was there, only she looked weary and maybe sad - it was hard to tell from the back.

But ha! They were alive, and the giggling child's voice could just shut up and not even try anything with his hermana, because Zorro wasn't going to let these lies go on. And Jaima was here, and that meant things were about to get nasty. Zorro remembered how stubborn he could be when he put his mind on it and took his glasses off.

He didn't slow. Now wasn't the time to be social. His hermana needed him and he was going to her. But he may have let off a little bit of a too-happy bark and he may have shouted "bonita bailarina" a little too loudly if the echo in the cavern was anything to go by, but he was just happy to see them. And if he touched Shadow's shoulder as he ran by, it wasn't to make sure the lucario was really there, it was just to tease. Really. His grin had absolutely nothing to do with the slightly surprised look on the lucario's face as he recognized him, before Zorro turned another corner and continued on.

Because he was almost to his hermana, and this facade was almost done.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Oct 23 2013, 11:04 PM

Shadow felt the touch a split second before it actually connected. Time drew out as a paw, a paw not his own, touched his fur clad shoulder. In that time, information flooded his senses. Tastes, smells, sounds, sight, feeling, emotions; all in the space of the briefest of touches, he received the sensory input of minutes.

It was Zorro who had passed them, dashing with exuberance toward his sensei, his trainer, his hermana. He was full of power he had never imagined, his joy that he had evolved and that had fueled the evolution filling him to near bursting. His mind still echoed with “she is here, she is here, she is here,” and the exuberance that litany brought nearly made Shadow leap in joy.

He had been a captive, in a room, and in his own body, and was now free.

He could sense her, and them, and everyone. His senses, his aura awareness told him everything he had to know, powered and enhanced, and powering and enhancing in kind, from Tuesdays burgeoning abilities.

The first emotion that was, once again, Shadows own, was jealousy. That Zorro knew the joy of such a bond, the joy of a bond that Shadow would never experience. For a bare moment, Shadow was jealous.

His disgust at his own base emotion lasted much longer.

That was Zorro that passed us, Shadow said, his body and emotional surprise having not yet caught up or digested, or perhaps he was caught up in the surprise Mercury and Sensei Jaima felt. He’s going to Tuesday now!

Jaima looked down the tunnel, but could not see very far. Unlike Mercury, who could see psychically, or Shadow, who could see with his aura senses, he was limited by his all too human eyes. “Lead the way, then. That’s where we need to be.”

Shadow began to lead, his shoulders hunched. A soft touch to his mind nearly stopped him, but he pressed on.

It’s all right, Shadow. It is. He wouldn’t hate you for how you’re feeling.

Shadow didn’t answer. He likely didn’t need to. But he knew, deep in his heart, that if he continued to resent his Sensei, he would hate himself.

* * * * *

Nightwish rolled her eyes at the buneary's display. As far as her physical prowess, it was impressive, her calling herself back while flipping from her trainer’s arms. Psychically, it was pathetic. A child’s tantrum, taken out on someone who’d had nothing to do with the situation she was angry at.

Someone, psychically or otherwise, needed to put that little beast over their knee. Nightwish found herself hoping she would get that particular pleasure.

Meiko was approaching Reilly, cautious, but hopeful. He had recalled his pokemon, his face was no longer clouded with hurt and anger. He seemed more confused than anything, though the boundary leaping from his arms had understandably caused pain, too.

“Do you remember anything..?” She spoke cautiously, but she did not coddle the boy, knowing from experience with a prickly best friend when she was just a child that if a younger boy felt coddled, he had a tendency to clam up. Boys.

“We… were going after Tuesday, right?” Reilly’s confusion erased the hurt, if only briefly. “We followed her… then… why were we battling?” His eyes grew sharp, accusing, as if Meiko had caused them to waste time with the battle. The older girl bit her lip, satisfied he wasn’t going to attack yet, but did not answer.

She turned and reached into her pack, finding a small plastic kit. “It was a misunderstanding,” she said, finally, reaching out, mentally, to Nightwish. The gothorita anticipated any questions.

He doesn’t wemembew anything.

Meiko gave a nod, as if to herself, and handed the kit to Reilly. “You’ve got a nasty scrape on your cheek.”

“I’m fine,” Reilly said, looking around. “We-“

“Yes, you’re fine, until that starts stinging. Now come on. Jaima’s ahead of us, but I get the feeling they’re going to need help.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned to go. She knew Reilly was right behind her, and smiled, just a bit, when he took the mini first aid kit, grumbling all the while.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Oct 24 2013, 06:48 AM

There were so many feelings in her head. Feelings that were hers, but weren't. She could recognize the difference on a level that she couldn't name. There were those sensations which she knew to be hers; the anger at the Fae, the concern for Zorro, the fear that she wouldn't be enough. And then there were the sensations which were not hers; the utter joy that flooded through her, the stirring hilarity at some revelation that nearly made her laugh aloud, the hope that didn't have a place here in her mind, the surprise, the feeling of stubborn determination that filled her up and held her resolve fast like so much superglue.

She was confused, and that emotion was entirely hers. She could recognize that many of these emotions did not belong to her, and yet, she did not desire to cast them out immediately. Not because she wanted to feel them, and not because they were not foreign, but because she recognized, somehow, on some level, that where they came from was a benign place. A place that would not harm her. Confused, a little startled, but unafraid, she let the emotions flow through her, acknowledged them as they came, and then let them wash out in their own time.

Her attention wavered between the battle with the Fae and her curiosity and slight worry over her connection with Ashleigh having been severed. It was such a natural connection that she had snapped into with the houndoom that she hadn't recognized it being such until it was broken. She was left feeling bereft of the warmth of the dark dog's fire, lost on two legs when she had begun to grow accustomed to four. There were teeth meant for gnashing and grinding in her mouth, but she wanted the fangs back that felt right in a way that her own body now didn't.

And she could admit that was a little terrifying, that she didn't feel right standing here in her own form. How warped was she to feel out of place?

Ashleigh dodged an attack and released his own without needing any commands from her, which was just as well, because Tuesday felt lost. She felt a little like she didn't know who she was. She was not unaware that the Fae had been mucking about with her brain, but she didn't understand yet where the line fell. What was real and what was merely a shadow of reality? She was certain that she recalled seeing Meiko and Jaima following her, and yet she recalled just as vividly their deaths. She knew that she had been traveling for some time with Reilly, that they had grown closer than they ever would have expected upon their initial meeting so long ago, but there was a distance between them now, physical and otherwise, that didn't fit with that memory. He wasn't here beside her, as he should have been, so perhaps that had been a lie.

It was the lack of a proper outline of her life which had her so lost in her own head. More than confusion at who was alive and who was her friend, Tuesday didn't know who she was. How was she to battle, to fight her enemies, to know who her enemies were, when the very basest of all knowledge one needed to know to live was lost to her?

She knew only that Zorro had been taken from her. She knew that he had been taken by the Fae. That made the Fae her enemies.

But what did that make her?

Zorro could feel the confusion rolling through his body. It was Tuesday's, not his. Zorro was not confused. His hermana was in danger and had come for him. Zorro would go to her and be with her, and that was all that was needed. Beyond that, he could see the dancing waves of emotions and feelings, upheaval and rest, and the knowledge that these waves gave him flowed through his mind in so strange a way. Was this what it felt like for his hermana all of the time, constantly thinking thinking thinking? He would have thought it was exhausting, but every thought was an utter thrill. All that he knew paled in comparison to all that he could know, if he just looked to the next wave.

His feet carried him to her, but he felt the battle before he saw it. Her confusion and anger, Ashleigh determination and loyalty, and the myriad emotions of the Fae who were not. Fear, a tantalizing emotion because he knew much of it was caused by his hermana - her unrelenting stubbornness confused and frightened them, for they were accustomed to dealing with the weak-minded and always got their way.

But his hermana was not weak, and this time, they would learn their first lesson in losing gracefully.

His bark was a looping cry of the first syllable of his species. He leapt into the air, flipping forward. It was both more difficult and easier than it had been before he evolution. He was larger now, heavier, and he would need to make adjustments to his technique and learn this new body. Just the same, he was stronger in this new form, and while larger, he was still thin and lithe, and Zorro had always been a fast learner.

He righted himself, striking feet first into the chest of one of the Fae who were not. The creature let out a cry, breath knocked from their lungs, and Zorro landed in between he and his hermana.

It was the one who had called himself King - the alpha-male of their group. Zorro lifted his head, baring teeth in a soundless snarl, as the creature took to its feet again.

"So you've changed," the Fae King said. "And yet still you serve a human."

Zorro sniffed, insulted. "My sister does not make slaves of her friends."

"Sister?! Ha!" The creature lashed out. "She doesn't consider you her brother, foolish dog! You're nothing but a beast to her, collared and kenneled, cast aside when you're no longer wanted."

Zorro dodged the attack and it went wild behind him. He did not need to look, but knew from the feeling that Ashleigh had dodged the strike and used the momentum from his movements to take down another of the Fae, pinning him with four heavy paws and a snarl.

"You are wrong."

"Yet, I am free!"

Zorro flipped backward to avoid the attack the King unleashed, but it caught him anyway, too large to dodge. He was tossed backward, his view of the world and how it sat momentarily lost, and he only barely managed to catch his feet on solid ground. Still, he stumbled back a step.

Ashleigh barked, a sharp sound, and Zorro ducked. The sword went flying over his head, barely missing the King, to vanish into the air behind him as though it had never been. And, of course, it hadn't. None of these creatures bore swords. They were not really Fae.

"Zorro?" Tuesday called, her voice filled with confusion and hope and relief and disappointment all at once. Zorro turned long enough to flash her a grin. It looked different on his new face, and yet it was still the same, and he felt her relief and happiness fill him. It quieted the briefly worried part of him that had felt her disappointment and despaired. She had not borne witness to his evolution and she was sad to have missed it, that was all. The pleasure she felt at his presence, the relief that he was safe, eclipsed all else.

Except for the awe. That surrounded her like a wave of light that would not disperse, the glittering fires of a star.

"I can feel you." The mental whisper was breathless with wonder, and he felt his own surprise and awe fill him and push over into her.

"I can hear you," he whispered back.

It was something for another time, a mystery for a moment when they weren't trapped in a battle with too many enemies. But it was something new, petrifying and exhilarating at once. Tuesday couldn't wait to dig her mental fingers into it. Zorro couldn't wait to be with her when she did.

"How did you get free?" she called, this time aloud. There was no room for the uncertainties of a mental conversation they didn't understand the existence of.

Zorro waved a hand at her as he dodged another attack from the King. "You came for me." It was the only answer he could give, and the only one that was needed. She came for him, and so he was free.

I thought I'd never get you back. I was terrified. You were gone. I wasn't here. I'm so sorry I left you. They tricked me. None of it was spoken, but he heard everything in the ferocity of her ire, her lingering disappointment in herself, the self-directed loathing. A brush of forgiveness at her with a talent for painting emotions in her directions so new, and a wound that had been scarred across her mind was sealed closed.

"They aren't real," he whispered. "Not as they want you to see them."

"I know," she murmured, and he heard. He leapt, landing on the Fae King's shoulders and kicking off, to spin around and kick him in the head with his right leg.

"Then unsee them."

He saw her confusion, her disbelief in that it could be so simple. And then the stubbornness, the resolve. He watched her look at the Fae. He saw her concentration in narrowed eyes, a titled head. And then he watched as her eyes widened and, a moment later, the illusion disappeared.

Not Fae. None of them were anything so extraordinary.

The Fae King and his Queen were a gallade and gardevoir respectively. The healer, too, was a gardevoir, an odd purple and white coloring that differed from the norm - shiny, they called it, like Mercury was. They were not all of that same line, however. There was a hypno, pendulum swinging from one hand, a look of furious concentration on his face as he tried to trick their minds and found himself unable.

He saw a brief flicker as two pokemon disappeared. Ghosts, his senses told him, who were still present but invisible. Frightened, he realized, knew. Ashleigh had been fighting a mime jr. and a smoochum, the latter of which was unconscious.

He could sense that there were others, too many for him to count. They were angry, yes, but the anger was because they were frightened. Frightened not of the dark-type pokemon, who was only one and would fall against them all, but frightened of the humans, who held powers they could not defeat - technology that could bind them, make them like them, make them answer to their every whim.

Zorro himself was furious at them, for hurting his hermana, for keeping him captive, for all of the lies. But he pitied them, too, because they attacked at their fear - all of their lives, they must have been attacking, never trying for a moment to look beyond it. How sad...

The gallade who called himself King paused only long enough to note that the illusion had fallen, that the hypno was unable to imprison their minds again. Without a word, he turned back to Zorro, and he once again attacked.

Zorro dodged with a sigh. Yes. It was very sad, because they simply refused to see.

Posted by: Master Houndoom Oct 28 2013, 11:23 PM

We’re close. Zorro has arrived. Sensei Tuesday is fighting fiercely. Ashleigh is flagging. Shadow’s report was given in a terse, crisp manner, which Jaima only partially took note of. The main reason they were here was to aide Tuesday. His pokemon wouldn’t let him deal with their problems now, even if he was inclined to.

Despite that he was inclined to.

He nodded, pulling the small blue and black ball from his bandolier and calling Fang to the battle. The regal luxray sniffed the air and growled, but made no move to surge forward as he might have as a luxio or spinx. He did look back over his shoulder, waiting, if haughtily, for instructions.

Jaima motioned for him to wait, but to be ready. “What about Meiko and Reilly?”

We’we on ouw way, Nightwish’ voice drifted in, softly, as if politely waiting to speak. Jaima looked at Mercury, who was laying in the crook of his arm. She merely smiled. Whatevew was wong with Weiwwy is compwetewy wevewsed.

Jaima nodded, knowing the gothorita could sense the action. “How’s Tuesday doing?”

She’s struggling with something. Zorro’s arrival is helping, but it’s far too well ingrained for me to- Oh!

As if being lifted by wires, Mercury rose from Jaima’s arms. She blinked at him, then smiled, a beautiful thrilled smile. I believe young Zorro has managed to break the illusion…

Indeed, Jaima noted that the pressure on his mind, pressure that he hadn’t known was weighing on it, was completely gone. Around him he could see forms, pokemon sized forms where before they had been shadows and rippling images, shades of elven guards and arches, courtesans and soldiers, royalty and servants. All of them now were the fleeing forms of psychic and ghost types.

Jaima clenched his jaw. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t going to make the perpetrators happy. It was long overdue for them to go help Tuesday.

He strode forward, his shoulders set. Fang kept pace, and Mercury floated nearby. Shadow took the lead, taking them to Tuesday’s position, and to battle.

* * * * *

“We’re lost, aren’t we?”

Reilly rolled his eyes toward the ceiling of the cavern, but Meiko just smiled wryly. Yes. They were lost. She didn’t rub in the fact that they wouldn’t have been lost, they, too, could have followed Shadow, if he hadn’t gone and attacked them.

It was, as a matter of fact, a little alarming that he didn’t even seem to remember. Her first attempt at explaining it to him was met with rolled eyes and sarcastic comments about her eyesight. Nightwish convinced her not to try a second time.

“Yes, Reilly. We’re lost. But we have to be close.”

She didn’t see so much as hear him raise his eyebrow in the tone of his voice. “Oh? And why’s that?” She pictured said eyebrow rising above his hairline, then past it, making a sound like a single violin string being played in a rising tone. It nearly made her giggle. “And why are you laughing?”

OK, it did make her giggle.

“There’s a light up ahead, and it looks like fire light. Tuesday has a few fire types, so I’m sure that’s her.” She pointed to her nose, a common Japanese expression that meant referring to herself, which she had never really outgrown. “I can hear them, too. I can’t hear Tuesday, but I hear a houndoom’s cry, and that can only be Ashleigh. We’re close.”

“Great. Two of them and I’m stuck with Shirley Holmes.”

Meiko giggled again, causing Reilly to roll his eyes.

They came to the mouth of the cave the light was flickering through. They were on the ledge, a ledge that was arranged like arena seating. Down below stood Tuesday, turning, slowly. She said nothing, but Ashleigh was attacking with gusto. Tearing into a hypno, sending two gastly reeling with a wall of flame. For every one he cut down, two more rose in their place.

Across from where she was, Jaima strode in. With one arm he pointed, and Ashleigh, who was wobbling at best, was suddenly rescued by Fang.

She smiled, not the girlish smile of a woman in love, but a wicked, mischievous smile.

She called out Chompwater. “I need a wall of ice along those walls. Make sure nothing gets through! Desertdancer, dig a trench, as close to the surface as you can without it collapsing unless someone puts weight on it! Blazeclaw! Help Fang out!”

“Chica chic CHICA CHIIIIIIIII!” If stealth had been Meiko’s goal, it was shattered now, but the surprise factor of a tiny yellow blue suddenly growing four times it’s size in a flash of light and spinning in place with fire on it’s clawed foot was a mighty fine distraction.

* * * * *

Jaima pointed to the center, where he could see a blurred form of Ashleigh, wobbling and spinning, dancing around Tuesday. He was strong, and he had the advantage here, but the psychics and ghosts rushed him like zerglings.

Fang took the point as he had intended to all along; he charged forward, putting on a brurst of speed before leaping over the houndoom’s back to Crunch down on a ghost that was floating in for the proverbial kill. He landed, tossing the ghost aside and sending an Electric Beam from his tail to the kadabra sneaking up on Ashleigh’s left side.

He looked over his shoulder and smirked at the houndoom, sending the message with his look. You weren’t getting tired were you? We’re just getting started.

Ashleigh’s tail whipped, and they stood, shoulder to flank, leaving nothing uncovered.

“Chica chic CHICA CHIIIIIIIIII!”

A large, glowing mass plunged from the ledge above, spinning in place and sending fiery kicks at the three psychics around it. Before they could reorganize, Fang lunged, pulling one down and back.

“Grondir! Tsunami! Cut off that wall there!”

A giant wall of mud piled up and splashed down against the far wall, originating from just that side of Fang. A tangle of vines erupted through the last part of it, cracking against enlarge heads and crests and all manner of psychics. It was followed by another glow and a gout of leaves, stinging any the vines missed.

“GROTLE!”

“Oh, Cosette!”

Shadow was suddenly across the room, taking two smaller pokemon out with a well placed Dark Pulse, leaving Zorro’s battle with the large ballade uninterrupted. Nightwish and Mercury were mirrors of each other, protecting their trainers but not participating in the battle.

Soon, the combat was at a standstill, with Tuesday, Fang, Ashleigh, and Blazeclaw in the middle of a ring of psychic and ghost pokemon, with some fainted bodies being lifted away, Reilly, Jaima and Meiko on opposite sides of the room struggling to keep the battle from being too lopsided, and Zorro and Shadow facing an angry, cruised gallade.

Posted by: Umbrae Calamitas Nov 3 2013, 07:49 PM

It must have been the easiest option for the not-Fae to convince Tuesday that she and her friends were warriors. Dragonslayers fit well with the fantastical theme they had chosen for their own illusion, but the warrior idea was more than likely derived partly from fact. They were all talented fighters on their own, but watching Jaima and Meiko's actions, utterly separate and yet benefiting each other with every move. It was the way that soldiers worked after years of training and they did it intuitively.

What was it they said about telling lies? The best way to make them believable was to keep as close to the truth as possible.

Tuesday was aware of what was going on around her as a sort of secondary knowledge. Her primary focus was on the Fae Queen. Oh, the king made a pretty hard argument toward being the leader of this group. It was easier to do with humans, who lived most often in primarily patriarchal societies. Their group, though, were more open than a society would have been. Meiko, after all, was pretty clear on what she thought about people thinking women were unable to stand on their own two feet. The girl had been traveling by herself for some time and done a good job of showing that she was more than capable of most, her sex aside.

Tuesday, too, had done some traveling on her own, and she knew that it was her age, or perhaps her youthful appearance, that often made others (or Jaima) think she was incapable to handle a pokemon journey without aide. She had proven herself, though, to others and to herself.

As for the present guys, Jaima wouldn't be in a relationship with Meiko if he wasn't perfectly agreeable with her about women being able to handle themselves. He also wasn't an idiot, but those two went kind of hand in hand.

Tuesday couldn't say much for Reilly, not knowing the real him incredibly well, but the Nurse Joy in Lenoilia was his sister, and since the Joys were notorious for having a huge family, she was pretty sure he knew what women were capable of.

It seemed to her that these not-Fae were attempting to take their thoughts and culture and pasts and twist them. They had fooled her and Reilly for a time. They might have even fooled Meiko and Jaima. But all four of them were free now and they would take no quarter. Tuesday wasn't an idiot. She could look back on the encounter she and Reilly had with these creatures and she could read things in the way they'd glanced at each other, the way they'd moved. The king had taken a primordial role likely because all four of them were humans who had lived with their families in a society were the father or male guardian was generally seen as the head of the household. Tuesday remembered the looks the queen had given her companion, though, when saying one thing or another. When telling her fellows "this is the way things are."

So she was ignoring the gallade who called himself king, whom Zorro was driving down and back, and looking for the queen.

She was aware of her friends. More aware than she had allowed herself to be in the journey here to rescue Zorro. She could admit to herself freely that they were here, that they were alive, because Zorro was safe. A breakdown was not imminent like it had been when she still required her anger to keep her moving.

She was aware of them, but they were secondary to her search for the not-Fae queen. Leaders and snakes and taking off heads. Let the not-Fae hear that whisper in her mind. She wouldn't hide it.

Tuesday felt a brush on her senses. An attempt to read her or control her, she couldn't tell, but she knew what the touch of a psychic felt like.

My friend Cassandra would make a doll of you, she thought fiercely. The brush disappeared, retreating.

Tuesday turned around, a smile on her face that would have fit better on a haunter's violet face.

"My Queen."

Reilly did not bother to command his pokemon's attacks. Instead, he unleashed them, declared the unfamiliar psychics and ghosts as enemies, and let them do what they did best.

Which, considering how much they had learned from him, was improvising.

Indiana, Phoenix, and Boromir took off with a fury.

Indiana the monferno took to his leaping attacks with fervor, going after a group of kirlia who had been attempting to use psychic attacks in tandem on the other already-busy pokemon.

The growlithe, Phoenix, stepped away a few feet and stopped, snarling and snapping her jaws, but not leaving Reilly's side. Reilly wasn't all that surprised. The growlithe had been overprotective ever since she was a pup.

Boromir the buizel used a spray of water to go sliding off into battle, using a group of pokemon much like bowling pins.

Reilly kept his eyes open and took in everything around him as best he could, as he made his way over to Tuesday. The runt was staying in relatively the same spot, moving to avoid attacks that shot her way, often without looking. Reilly noticed that her gaze was focused quite firmly upon a gardevoir, and he didn't get close enough to interrupt the flashing roar of energy between the two that made him want to hide under a large stone, but he was close enough that if needed, he could make a difference.

Or, well, Phoenix could. She was good at that.



The gallade was flagging.

He was fast, and his attacks were strong, but Zorro was faster and stronger.

The lucario was accustomed to constantly moving, dodging, flipping, and pulling tricks. As a riolu, he had been very knowledgeable of his body's abilities and limitations, and while this knowledge had been somewhat thrown due to his evolution, he was still a force to be reckoned with.

And, he would admit to himself with an admittedly conceited air, he was a darn sight better than a brainwashing knight in mossy armor.

A copycat attack sent the gallade's psychic attack flashing back in his face. The pokemon staggered backward, startled by Zorro's signature move.

"Do you yield?" he asked. And perhaps it was a foolish question, but he felt inclined to be the better pokemon.

"Never!" the gallade shouted, lunging forward.

Zorro grabbed the blade-appendage thrust toward him, dug his feet in, and rotated his hips. He used the momentum from the manuver to swing the gallade around and throw him roughly to the ground. His paw lashed out with a sharp strike, cracking the gallade across the face and knocking him unconscious.

The lucario gave a sharp nod. "Now you yield."

He glanced around, spotted Tuesday facing off (by herself, foolish child!) with the not-Fae queen, and bounded off toward her. She would not ever, but in this especially, have to stand alone. Not so long as Zorro was here, and he intended to linger.

"You are monsters!" the gardevoir screamed. Her words were spoken telepathically, but acted much like a human voice in that their reach was determined by distance. Zorro was able to hear her more clearly the closer he got. It was likely a habit she had picked up from pretending to be Fae.

"You come into our home and you attack us, you strike down my family." She turned her glare onto Zorro as she said, "My husband. You are monsters."

"You're one to talk." Zorro heard Tuesday's thoughts echo in his mind, a sarcastic retort she didn't want to speak aloud. He was tempted to say it for her. But no.

No. She wanted to be diplomatic.

He sighed.

"You disagree?"

Ah, he was aware of her. And getting quickly accustomed to their strange ability to communicate silently.

"I believe they are foolish and will not accept reason," he corrected. But I trust you, he thought to himself. He saw her brief smile and wondered if she had heard.

"We stumbled into your home by accident," Tuesday said to the not-Fae queen. "We fell, we were injured. We meant no harm."

"You fell fighting an innocent!"

"We fell defending ourselves, as you would have defended yourselves in the same position. Probably better, considering how strong you are. So much stronger than a mere human with no psychic powers and no way to defend herself from being manipulated into believing her friends are dead."

The gardevoir narrowed her eyes. "You brought your slaves with you-"

"I do not have slaves, or servants," Tuesday said, her words quicker than the calm tone she had been using in part because of her anger, and because of Zorro's low growl. She had a hand out to block him from making any rash actions, but that was the ratta's territory, not his.

"I have friends," Tuesday continues. "Companions. Brothers."

The gardevoir snorted. "Prisoners in a gilded cage. You carry your weapons that bind us, control us, make us like you, make us obey. You command and we must jump, your hands a collar about our necks!"

"I know people like that," Tuesday said, and her voice was quiet, remorseful. "There are people in the world like that, cruel, who treat their pokemon badly." She hesitated a moment, her eyes downcast. "My own sister can be like that." She raised her head. "I'm not. I've made an effort to be friends with my pokemon, not a commander. To be their companion and never a... a jailer. I wouldn't want that sort of relationship with them, and if they didn't like being with them, then they could ask to leave, and I would let them."

"You lie!"

"Read my mind." At the gardevoir's startled look, Tuesday shrugged. "You've done in before to get all that information to trick me. You've been inside my head already, what's one more time? So go ahead. Read my mind, search my memories. Try to find a moment when I was deliberately cruel to my pokemon. It'll take a long time to find one. Forever, actually. I suppose that's not long at all."

She motioned toward Reilly, who startled at being brought into the conversation. "Or read Reilly's mind. He's even had a telepathic pokemon of his own, so I bet he knows how to lead you right to the memories you need. Or, well, he could, if he had any, but I know he doesn't."

The gardevoir was looking at Reilly, who looked startled and confused himself, maybe a little frightened. The boy met her eyes after a moment, though, and didn't run. If she wanted to read his mind, he'd let her.

And didn't that tell her so much right there.

"There are bad people in the world, yeah. There will always be bad people. I suppose that's the curse of being human, really. Some of us can't see which is the bad way and which is the good, and some other people don't care and selfishly look after themselves. I always sort of envied pokemon for that. They never had to worry about accidentally being cruel. They just lived, and if they were cruel, it was because they were trained wrong."

Her look of sudden disappointment was a shock. "But you're a wild pokemon, aren't you? I bet you always have been. You don't act like a pokemon who knows what people are like. You act like a pokemon afraid to find out you're right. And you're cruel."

Tuesday looked away. "I don't think you understand how disappointing it is to learn wild pokemon can be deliberately cruel."

It didn't bother her as much as it used to, the memories of the feraligatr, the water, the feeling of being unable to breathe as darkness curled about her vision. It didn't hurt as much, but it still hurt a little, it was still frightening. It had been a lesson in that people were cruel, could train their pokemon to be cruel.

And here was another. Outside of training, pokemon could be cruel, too. On their own, without direct human influence. Maybe it was because they were psychic pokemon. They were more aware of the world than other pokemon. Their minds were more open, more aware. More human.

Maybe that was the ultimate flaw.

"You made me a prisoner," Zorro said. His hermana's mind had wandered off, disappointed, lost, trying to catch equilibrium in a mentality that had been shaken. "You took my from my hermana, you imprisoned me. Before that, you tricked her with illusions, with mental whispers of a world that does not exist. It was you who collared us, and you did not need a pokeball to do it."

He cocked his head to the side, looking at her with quizzical golden eyes. "Who is the monster, False Queen? Who, among us, is the jailer?"

The gardevoir glanced around her. The fighting had all but stopped. The trainers and their pokemon were still split up amongst the masses, guarding, protecting, being watchful and cautious. Most of her brethren were unconscious, fainted, but some had surrounded and lay quietly, subservient. Frightened.

None of them were seriously injured. None of them had been captured.

They had lost the battle, but they were still free.

They were still free.

"You wish to leave," her voice whispered, soft, but they all heard.

Tuesday blinked her eyes back into focus, looked at her.

"That's all we ever wanted."

The gardevoir bowed her head. "Then go."



It seemed a very abrupt ending, honestly. Tuesday was... not disappointed, but perhaps confused. She had expected something more ferocious, more damaging. Of course, they had proven their strength, proven that the not-Fae could not defeat them. Had the queen attempted to hold them, they just would have taken her down, too. Perhaps that's really why they released them, in the end.

The four climbed the steep hill into the sunshine and she heard Reilly let out a deep groan of relief. "Finally!"

There were a series of chuckles. Tuesday wasn't among them.

"Problem?"

She smiled. "I owe... a lot of apologies."

The lucario blinked, nodded softly. "You will be forgiven."

I know. That doesn't make it right.

"I'm sorry," she said aloud, causing the others to stop and look back at her. She scratched her forehead where her hairline started. "I shouldn't have run off like that."

"You're damn right you shou--"

Meiko's hand clamped over Reilly's mouth, effectively stopping what seemed the beginning of an epic tirade.

"You were distraught, Tuesday," she said, ignoring the fierce mumbling of the redheaded boy against the muffling of her hand. "We understand that you weren't thinking clearly."

"We are disappointed that you didn't let us help you more," Jaima continued, "but there were extenuating circumstances, and sometimes that couldn't be helped."

Yes, they would understand how strong psychic influences could be, and not only because they both had a psychic pokemon partner. All of the things that they had been dealing with recently.

"We're still a little confused about what happened, so I wouldn't mind an explanation at some point." Jaima took of his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. "Considering what all has happened in the past, though, this turned out pretty well, I think."

"Jaima, don't jinx it!" Meiko hissed, swatting at him. She smiled at Tuesday. "I'm a little curious, too, but priorities first." Her smile turned into a scowl and she released Reilly to plant both hands on her hips. "When is the last time you had a bath? Or eaten? Honestly, I can accept that this kid will always look a mess," she said, motioning toward Reilly ("Hey!"), "but you should really take better care of yourself, Tue-chan."

"In my defense, I was traveling the world slaying dragons. Bathing wasn't too high on my priority list."

There was a pregnant pause.

"That's going to be some story."



Deep beneath the stone ceiling of a once-hidden cavern, the not-Fae queen of a hidden group of pokemon let her rage curl outward like smoke. She felt the dwindling presence of the humans and their servant pokemon slip from her realm.

She turned to the ghost waiting patiently at her side. The liars could run, but they would not escape her. Her shadow was long, and her eyes traveled far.

The ghost's curious whisper touched her mind.

"Follow them," the queen commanded her servant, and watched the ghost disappear.

Deep within a guilded cage beneath the stone, the Queen of the Realm smiled.