[X] My Assistant

[Master Houndoom]

This RP is already fully staffed and will not accept applications. Furthermore, any bunnying done to characters or pokemon is done with permission by the owner of the character/pokemon.

"And then, Jaima's mother comes home, and no one's there. Well, she's in a towering fury, she says, but she goes out to the back yard, and there they are, with a blanket draped over the clothesline, roasting marshmallows over Ember's behind!"

Tuesday and Meiko burst into fits of girlish laughter, and Jaima smiled, slightly flushed. Darryn also smiled, almost a smirk. "I've heard that before."

Meiko grinned at him, then back at Jaima, winking and pointing at him. Jaima raised a brow, then gave a smirk of his own.

"Well, this one is new to you. It's Meiko's 8th birthday, and it's supposed to be a surprise party..."

Meiko gasped. "Noooooo," she wailed, reaching for Jaima, who dodged nimbly.

The story never actually got told, but things were learned by the traveling companions. For example, Tuesday and Darryn learned that Jaima was actually ticklish, and that Meiko knew where, and vice versa. Meiko and Jaima learned that one should not get into a tickle war while there was a certain mischievous riolu around.

No one understood exactly how it happened, or where Zorro had gotten the rope, but before it could be stopped, Jaima and Meiko had ended up with their hands tied behind the other's back, facing each other, wide eyed and blinking in surprise.

With a laugh, Tuesday scolded Zorro, Darryn moved to untie the pair, and Meiko took the opportunity to drop a kiss on Jaima's nose.

* * * * *

The camp was set up with now expected efficiency, and supper had been eaten. The four trainers lounged around the fire, sleepy eyed, several pokemon (several being twenty, but no one was counting) lounging in different groups, and smiling. The previous leg of their journey, which had ended with the group taking refuge with Tuesday's uncle, had provided a time of rejuvenation, and the group had fallen into a kind of contentment that was the aim of many people, the kind of contentment one would love to look back in their life and say they could feel for the majority of it. The kind of contentment that, usually, preceded a storm or quake.

There was talking, and laughter, and soon the wishes of good nights. The morning would bring more travel, and perhaps a practice battle, but for now, sleep was called for.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

A sense of worry had come over Tuesday. For most people, this would not seem out of place, considering that she was separated from her friends and most of her pokemon, as well as running in the opposite direction of a blazing inferno. Except that she wasn’t running away from the fire – she was running toward what might be someone needing help. In situations such as these, having a plan in mind, or at least a mission, Tuesday generally remained relatively calm.

Except she wasn’t.

She was worried, and she didn’t know why. Ashleigh kept pace at her side, his long legs moving in a stalwart rhythm, not at all taxing for him, as he ran at her speed. Romeo was on her left, though he followed behind, with Mercury and Fang bringing up the rear, sticking together.

Tuesday’s eyes scanned the forest, though there was little to be scene but trees and shadows. She had to slow her pace in order to climb over a fallen tree without stumbling, but then quickly sped up again. There had been no more signs of the crashed helicopter since she had initially watched it fall, and she didn’t honestly expect to see anything else. The craft had gone down with an ominous silence that had chilled her, but she tried not to dwell on that. Rather, she kept running.

If someone had asked her why she was running in this direction, Tuesday wouldn’t have been able to give them an answer. She didn’t know why she was running between these particular two trees, or why she was jumping over that specific root, or why on earth she chose to duck under a dangling pine limb, rather than going around the tree and avoiding the scratchy needles. She had no idea why she was doing such a thing, but she also wasn’t concentrating on the fact that she was. In her mind, it was unimportant – it wasn’t odd or unnatural or out of place. She was going where she might be needed – where she was needed – and that was all that mattered.

Ten years down the road, when Tuesday stands in the middle of a laboratory that is more home to her than any place has ever been, wearing a lab coat and sketching a pokemon that no one has ever seen before, she will still not know why she chose to take that particular path. She will have no idea about how the trees she ran between, their thick roots holding the soil beneath and directly around them packed tightly together, were surrounded on both sides by a sink hole that the forest was still working to overrun. She would have no idea that jumping over that root was the only option other than climbing up a sturdy-looking rock, which would have shifted the moment weight was placed on it, collapsing and pinning her underneath its mass. She would never known that slipping under the pine tree limb, dangling sticky needles, kept her from running into the vigoroth, whose wild eyes had a distant, faded, mad look to them, as he foamed at the mouth, his consciousness giving way to an insanity that would destroy him.

Tuesday had no way of knowing – would never know – and really, it didn’t matter.

~*~

Terrance Caballe was a doctor by both trade and passion. He differentiated the two by the distinct knowledge that some people – most people, it seems, nowadays – took careers that they hated, but which offered them good pay. This trade was one that drove them into the ground, destroying their happiness in its entirety, because they had little to no desire for the work that they were doing.

Terrance, however, had a passion for his trade. He loved knowledge, loved helping people and pokemon, and still, even in his late-sixties, loved learning. His trade – once a scientist, then a researcher, a lab tech, a health specialist, and so many more – had brought him little else but joy. Granted, there was heartache, as well, and loss, but he had never lost his love at the jobs, and he prayed that there never came a time when he did.

However, there was one part of the job that Terrance would admit to not having a great fondness for. Being injured in a place he was unfamiliar with, when he knew there was danger about and, due to extenuating circumstances, could do nothing about, had always caused him some manner of discomfort.

That was why he wasn’t particularly overjoyed at his current position.

He had awoken to the blurry and spinning sight of leaves – the canopy of the forest above him. His old body was sprawled across grass, dirt, and dead leaves, and his right arm was twisted at an unnatural and sickening angle. He couldn’t feel the pain from it, but had the distinct feeling that that had something to do with the nauseous feeling in his stomach and the lump on the back of his head.

Broken arm, concussion… Terrance ran down a mental checklist, wiggling fingers and toes, turning his neck, trying to stand up. The standing up failed, though he blamed the concussion for his lack of balance. And you’re old, Terrance. Admit it. He chuckled at himself, doing his best to gain a slightly more comfortable position by leaning against a large rock. There were a series of boulders that littered the area. He was more than lucky that he hadn’t landed on any of them. He could have easily broken his spine or split his head open – an action that most certainly would have been the end of him.

Oh, I do hope the others are all right, he thought, his befuddled mind flashing to his team. He had yet to fully piece together everything that had happened, but clearly the helicopter had gone down. He didn’t know why, and the worry made his stomach churn. The fire was uncharacteristic, out of place; they had spotted a group standing amongst the forest, and their aircraft had been put out of commission. Now, they were all separated and with no way to communicate.

Terrance gave his radio a solemn look, the walkie having shattered upon impact with the ground. He patted the exposed electrical wires reverently, as though it were a pokemon who had done him a good service, been a good friend, that had passed, and not a piece of equipment.

Terrance sighed and looked to his right, where his chansey, Aiuto, stood, looking concerned. The pokemon was a great help when giving medical aid to pokemon and humans alike, but had never been one for great physical strength. There was no way the chansey would be able to help him walk, and with the world spinning every time he stood, Terrance knew it was safer, for the moment, to remain where he was. Hopefully the others hadn’t crashed too far off and would find him soon.

Hopefully they didn’t need him.

The snap of a twig just out of eyesight called the attention of both Aiuto and Terrance, and they turned to the forest with equal feelings of apprehension. If a pokemon attacked them, Terrance had little hope for success, or even survival.

He was swallowing thickly in worry when, to his great surprise, what came dashing from the shadows was not an attacking pokemon, but a young girl.

Her eyes, a cloudy blue, seemed both observant as well as distant, and she had the fingertips of one hand pressed to her right temple, as though fighting off a headache. Her steps were sure, even though she didn’t seem to be paying much attention to where she was going. Initially, her gaze swept over him without, apparently, seeing him at all, and then they flashed back, and recognition seemed to light up within them.

She stopped, her hand falling to her side, and some of the clouds and pain in her eyes seemed to fade. “Oh.”

Terrance stared at her. Maybe it was the concussion, but he couldn’t seem to comprehend why a young girl was running through the forest, and why she didn’t seemed shocked to find someone, but did seem slightly surprised to find him. Not that there was any actual recognition. He had never seen her before, but there was something- it was like she was expecting someone- clearly, the concussion was doing more to addle his brain than he had originally thought. That was not something he enjoyed considering.

“Sir,” the young girl said, giving a nod of greeting. She was oddly polite, considering the circumstances, and Terrance got the strange feeling again that she was not shocked to have stumbled upon someone. How… strange.

“Who…” Did who she was really matter more than what she was doing here? There was a severe problem – a danger – going on. He couldn’t quite recall what it was, but it wasn’t safe her, and she needed to leave so he could take care of it. He hissed as he pulled at his arm. What had he done to it?

The girl’s eyes had gained a little light to them – like a spark, burning brightly. They flashed across him, seeming to take in everything while they took in nothing – so cloudy and clearly not at all paying attention. Another kid with her head in the clouds.

“My name is Tuesday, sir,” Tuesday said, stepping closer to the man and kneeling before him. She had been studying him and had noticed a few things. His arm had been the first, of course. It was clearly broken – it was bent at such an angle that there was nothing else it could be. As she watched him, however, his movements sluggish, off-balance, with his green irises surrounded severely-dilated pupils, it was quite clear that he had a concussion. She didn’t imagine, however, that he would appreciate a stranger searching for a lump on his head. She would have to settle for assumptions.

“I know you’re confused, sir,” she continued, speaking slightly louder than usual so that she could be more clear. If he did have a concussion, he would have enough trouble processing things without her mumbling her words, “but there is a forest fire and we can’t risk spending too much time here. I’m going to splint your arm, sir, and then we’re going to have to go.” She blinked in mild surprise when Ashleigh brought her a good-sized, firm stick. She smiled at him and then turned back to the man, frowning. “Could you walk if I helped you, sir?”

“Terrance,” the man said, and Tuesday didn’t know if he naturally spoke so softly or if it was a product of his injuries. “Doctor Terrance Caballe.” He nodded once, but winced and quickly gave it up. “Yes. I think. If you help me, I can walk.”

“Good,” Tuesday said. She grimaced but trudged on despite having to be so demanding of someone clear far superior to her in age and knowledge, if he was a doctor. “Hold still, doctor. I need to splint your arm, and then we need to leave.”

~*~

None of them noticed the red-haired man standing some ways away, hidden behind a tree. He watched as the young girl secured the medic's arm in a tight splint and clutched the pokeball tighter in his fist. Grinning, thinking about how much fun it would be to watch the shiftry unleash its full, vengeful wrath on the girl, he shook the ball roughly, and released the pokemon with a snarl.

There would be no time to react.