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♠.♣.♥.♦.~ Superhero Cowboy Space Pirates ~ ♠.♣.♥.♦

LonelyHat

Fedora-sama
Hiya. :}

Here's a little thing I've been leisurely writing for a while now. It's not a serious piece of work (my serious pieces of work won't see the light of day for a loooooooooong time, hehe), just a thing I've been working on when I get tired of hysterically grammar-proofing everything and getting chewed up and spit out by my Beta (who, I hope...isn't a member of this forum... >.>)

Wait, what was I doing here...OH, yeah.

The rating is R, which will seem baffling for a long time, but this is one of those things that start off all cheerful and lighthearted and become increasingly disturbing as the plot progresses. Like in Harry Potter books where they start you off on vivid Christmas descriptions and chocolate frogs and kooky characters only to guide you into scenes of adult bodies with shrunken, wailing baby heads and mass genocide. ^-^

Also, in the leisurely spirit of the whole fanfic, the plot will progress slowly. VERY slowly. Don't expect spectacular battles or cliff-hangers any time soon. I know a lot of people aren't the type for this sort of thing and that's fine, but if you ARE, then prepare yourself for a light, leisurely read. For now.

Oh, also - I hate prologues, so I didn't write one.

OH - and I'm on British English, so all those extra 'u's and writing centre instead of center and words ending with -ise instead of -ize, that's on purpoUse. ;D

OH, one more thing! I bought a new pair of flip-flops. ^^ They rock. Best footwear - EVER! X}



♠.♣.♥.♦.~ Superhero Cowboy Space Pirates ~ ♠.♣.♥.♦


♥♥♥

Chapter 01: Crew of the Indomitable

♥♥♥​

Somewhere along the course of September that year, the two families decided it was time for the girls to meet. In the cozy lounge of Goldenrod’s Country Club which was situated in the northern outskirts of Ilex forest, the parents discussed the first contact of their unique children, while outside the autumn wind caused luxurious amounts of golden leaves to set off from their mother branches.

Though some details varied in their views of how it should come to pass, all three people – Angela Byrde’s parents and Emily Walters’ father – agreed wholeheartedly over what was most crucial.

It was positively vital that they get along, preferably become friends.

The get-together was scheduled for September 14th. A Saturday. The day of Emily’s birthday, actually, from which, they all hoped, the Byrdes would leave as good friends as result of the girls’ first meeting.

When he got home from the meeting, Mr. Jeremy Walters immediately made his way to the private classroom, situated in the west wing of his mansion where he knew his eight-year old daughter was having a study session. Personally, he believed she was too young to begin her “education”, but it had been his late wife’s wish and Mr. Walters could not find it in his heart not to carry it out.

Jeremy Walters had always been a tad bony for his height and looked a bit tired for his age, but since his wife died he became a shadow of his former self. In the live-size portrait of himself that was hung in the mansion lobby, he was a twenty years old young man with thick, coal-black hair and kind, pale-blue eyes. His face had been pale and bony even then, but he had a broad smile on his face which seemed to light up his features.

Now, mere ten years later, his face was already wrinkled, his hair lined with gray strands and his eyes tired and somewhat watery in colour, as if worn out through arduous use. Though he was in his early thirties, he looked at least ten years older, if not more. A lot of times, people would think his little girl was actually his granddaughter. All around, he resembled a living antiquity, old and forgotten in some dusty place. His hands, lean and bony, always quivered ever so slightly which would cause his cup to make a curious, clattering noise against its dish whenever he was having tea.

Sometimes, Mr. Walters would make a dry remark how the only thing fueling his functions nowadays was the immense energy his daughter all but radiated. Even now, just standing in front of the room she was in, made him feel revitalized. He could hear her voice, sounding somewhat annoyed and high-pitched and realized, with a soft chuckle, that she was arguing over something with her tutor…again.

With no further hesitation, he grasped the doorknob and pushed his way into the classroom. His entrance elicited a cry of mixed joy and relief from the small-framed girl who was currently standing on top of her chair with one foot on the small desk in front of her which was covered in pieces of paper covered in doodles.

She looked as if she was about to throw something at the stoic young man behind the teacher’s desk when she spotted her father and grinned from ear-to-ear.
“Papa!” she cried out victoriously as she leapt down from her desk and rushed into his arms for a hug which Mr. Walters gladly accepted.

Emily was a tiny girl, even for her age, but she made up for what she lacked in size with tremendous energy, bordering on hyperactivity. After a lot of resistance, mostly on her Tutor’s part, Mr. Walters finally allowed her to have her dark-crimson hair cropped short, depriving it of its former, luxurious curls Emily inherited from her mother. Now her hair was longest at each side of her face, where it just barely reached under the line of her jaw while at the back of her head it was trimmed very, very short. She got her eyes from her father, but the way they were before – vivid pale blue and restless, always flickering left and right in search of something new to see.

They were a bit stormy now, though, as she raised them to meet her father’s amused look.
“Papa, Mr. Boot is annoying me again, make him stop!” she accused her tutor bitterly.

“It’s actually Mr. Wellington, Emily and I wasn’t trying to annoy you.” the young man said impassively as he approached them with a stoic look on his face. He used a cane with a plain, silver head as support for walking, as he limped heavily on his left leg due to reasons he never bothered to reveal to his employers. “I was merely pointing out that a young lady of your position should dress appropriately.”

“And what’s wrong with me?” she challenged defiantly, ignoring the amused chuckle her father let out at the question.

“Well, for one thing – it would be preferable you wore a dress, rather than trousers.” her young tutor pointed out reasonably, still steadfastly calm in spite of his student’s fury, “But if you must, then at least wear a pair that isn’t missing one leg.”

The girl glanced down at her jeans whose left leg was cut off neatly at around the middle of the thigh before glaring up at her tutor again.
“I wanted to make them into a shorts.” she barked.

“So why didn’t you finish?”

“I changed my mind!”

Mr. Wellington shook his head with a soft sigh before turning his calm, brown eyes to his employer.
“Mr. Walters, good afternoon.” he said, “How are you today?”

“Well, thank you Jacob.” Mr. Walters replied with a faint smile, before his eyes turned serious, “I’ve just come back from meeting the Byrdes.”

The young teacher’s already pale face seemed to turn even whiter and his solemn brown eyes strayed over to his little student with worry.
“Not wasting any time, are you?” he murmured pensively while tucking a loose strand of his dark-brown hair behind his hear. A second after, he broke into a smile, “Perhaps it’s better that way.”

“What?” Emily asked confusedly, never having seen her two favourite people in the world this serious. For old Mr. Boot it wasn’t so unusual, but her father always appeared lighthearted in her innocent, childish mind. “Whaaaaaat! What’s better? Who are the Byrds? Why’re you two so gloomy? I’ll stitch the leg back on!”

Mr. Walters just had to laugh fondly before he crouched in front of his daughter, the usual merry twinkle back in his eye.
“Emily, dear, the Byrdes are very important people to us.” he told her gently, “They have a daughter who’s a year younger than you and they’ll bring her to your birthday party next week. It is…very important that you and her get along.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Mr. Walter hesitated with his reply, as if weighing his words very, very carefully before he spoke on, “…because there will come a time in your life when she will be the only person in the world who can understand you.”

The girl tilted her head a little, much reminding of a curious puppy, as she squinted up at her father suspiciously. She could tell there was something fishy about the arrangement, but her young mind still couldn’t discern exactly what it was.

“Well…as long as I get presents, it’s fine with me.” she finally said, proud of her diplomatic reply.

Mr. Wellington sighed with an exasperated roll of his dark-brown eyes before he hobbled back to his desk.
“We’ll cover the fallacy of happiness which material possessions bring in tomorrow’s lecture.” he muttered to himself more than anyone else. “But now we should really get back to today’s lesson.”

“Fair enough.” Mr. Walter agreed as he rose from his crouching position and made his way to the door. Before he left the room, he glanced at his daughter over his shoulder.

She grinned and waved. He smiled.

“Now, then…” Mr. Wellington sighed as he beckoned his student to approach his desk which the girl – not without grumbling – did, “Let’s pick up where we left off. Choppy!”

The creature called ‘Choppy’ was a tiny, yellow mouse-like being with huge, pitch-black ears and a pair of curious, brown eyes. It was a young Pichu and it poked its tiny head out of the end of Mr. Wellington’s brown coat sleeve. It liked to curl up in there, as there was plenty of room around the young teacher’s slim arm – like a miniature, shifting tunnel.

“Chuuuu!” it cried out in pretty much the same manner someone would shout ‘ta-daa’ and easily jumped out of its hiding place, not missing the chance to nudge its master’s palm with its head first, and landed on the top of the teacher’s desk.

It sat up on its hind legs, took a moment to look pensive before it cleared its throat and let out a series of squeaks and squeals.
“Chuuu-pi-chuchu-pichu…CHU! Pi! Pichu-chu. Chuuu-PI!” it declared and looked really proud with whatever it was it said.

“Alright, then.” Mr. Wellington said with thick dignity, “What did Choppy say, Emily?”

“He saaaaaid…” the girl trailed off, sounding bored while her eyes drifted to the window, “That it’s time for a cocoa break!”

“Miss Walter-“

“NO, that a gigantic metemor is approaching the Earth-“

“Meteor is the word you need, I believe.”

“Yeah and that only I can save everyone with my pirate superhero powers! WOOOOSHHHHH!” she set off, running around the room with her arms outstretched like wings, “Come on, Mr. Boot, what are you waiting for!? Get to the shelter!”

“Emily.” the one, solemn word snapped the girl out of her playful actions and she trudged back to the desk, half sprawling across it, her chin resting on her folded arms.

“He said…something about his ears, I dunno…” she sighed exasperatedly, cringing immediately at her tutor’s disapproving look.

“Please take this seriously, Miss Walters.” he told her sternly, “We’ve been through this – you must focus. This is a pokemon familiar to you and yet you can’t understand him. In one week you will receive a pokemon you’ve never met before – your partner.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t believe you do.” Mr. Wellington insisted and this time he looked very nearly irritated. It stood out sharply against his usually calm demeanor. “You’ve been born into something very unique, Miss Walters. Not to take advantage of your gift is a blatant slap in the face to whichever power bestowed it upon you. Not to mention your future-“

He seemed to check himself just short of finishing his sentence and that alone caused Emily to prick her ears curiously, he pale blue eyes searching her teacher’s face intently.
“What?” she sprang up and climbed the desk until she was kneeling on top of it, next to the very bemused-looking Pichu, “Whaaaaat!? My future what? Come on! You and Papa are both mean, you never tell me stuff!”

“If you want to be told important things,” Mr. Wellington informed her icily, “then prove first that you are worthy of hearing them.”

Emily’s pale blue eyes froze over until they became icy like glaciers and her jaw squared as she whipped around to the Pichu, slamming her little hands at each side of it.
“Fine!” she snapped furiously, “Let’s hear that again, Choppy!”

The little pokemon nodded and cleared its throat before it started over again.
“Chuuu-pi-chuchu-pichu…”


♥♥♥​


A week passed swiftly by, bringing cold autumn winds to ruin the Indian Summer earlier than usual. The sky was dark gray for days, the streets likewise, but the treetops still blazed in all the shades of yellow, orange and crimson. Still, even the warm colours of autumn foliage couldn’t soften the bitter cold wind that ripped through everything in its path.

In cities, people remained home, in forests pokemon hid from the cold. When Emily’s birthday, that joyous occasion, finally arrived, the entire world appeared deserted.

Still, the large Walters’ mansion was warm and all its rooms decorated in a cozy manner by Emily’s late mother who loved fireplaces and soft, exotic rugs of fiery colour that were so thick that your feet sank into them at each step. There was plenty of warm cocoa and boiled wine and cakes so chocolate you forgot anything else existed. The guests were enjoying themselves immensely, engulfed in warmth and friendly chatter.

Emily was bored for most part, as there were few children there and those who came were mostly already young snobs at their age. The atmosphere was pleasant, though, and everyone was nice to her, giving her presents and saying their earnest congratulations. She felt so at ease that she seriously pondered crawling into one of the comfy armchairs and dozing off under a warm blanket. Preferably next to a steaming cup of cocoa.

She was sitting at a small coffee table with her father and Mr. Wellington when she heard her tutor’s breath hitch and looked up at him to find his face even paler than usual and he looked like he was listening for something.

The next second, the doorbell rang.

“Emily,” Mr. Wellington’s voice startled the girl and she looked up into his serious face, “an old friend of mine is here. He is a teacher for the Byrdes’ daughter the same way I am for you. Please be on your best behavior and show him respect – he is a war veteran.”

“Ah, so they’re here already.” Mr. Walters sighed fondly and rose from his chair, brushing some imaginary dust from his brown vest, “Let’s go meet them, dear. And what Mr. Wellington told you goes for the whole Byrde family – be polite to them as well.”

The girl rolled her eyes and shuffled off the chair, struggling with her indigo, overly lacy dress.

“Should I be disturbed because I felt I had to point that out?” Mr. Walters asked pensively and Mr. Wellington shrugged with jaded stoicism.

“Considering her age, not at all, sir.” he sighed, sounding somewhat tired before his dark brown eyes narrowed disapprovingly at his student who was already halfway across the room, “On the other hand, the fact she’s wearing her jeans under her dress…”


♥♥♥​


Mr. Terrence Wolfe was a peculiar presence to say the least. Certainly not at all what someone would imagine a tutor looked like. Very tall and broad-shouldered, he had wild, light brown hair which framed his face both in the sense of some loose strands that fell down his cheeks and the thick, scruffy beard that framed his jaw. He was dressed in a way Emily wasn’t used to as well – in old, faded jeans and a heavy, brown overcoat that had seen better days. Most peculiar thing about him, however, was – beyond all contestation – the black eyepatch he wore over one of his gray eyes.

“Mister,” Emily said slowly, having just bounced into the lobby from the guest room and taken a good look at the single guest who waited there, “you’re the coolest person EVER!”

She pounced nearer immediately, her blue eyes alit with curiousity as she grabbed the end of his left sleeve and inspected it.
“Wooo-oow!” she gasped out in sheer awe, “Fingerless gloves! Oh! A ring with a skull! And the eyepatch! Are you a pirate?”

“Emily!” her tutor’s horrified voice startled her and she felt two hands land on her shoulders, pulling her away from the object of her inspection, “What did I just tell you!? You shouldn’t- er-“

He paused for a moment to stare at his old friend disbelievingly before he exploded.
“Terrence, what in God’s name are you wearing?” he snapped at the much larger man who looked decidedly pleased with himself.

“The same thing I always wear.” Terrence replied smugly, his grey eye twinkling with mirth, “I don’t see why that should surprise you.”

“You’re a teacher now!” Mr. Wellington all but barked back, making Emily do a double take up at him, never having seen the man lose his cools like this, “You could at least make an effort to look a bit more normal.”

“I reckon I’ll do that when you make an effort to be less stuck up.” the large man said with a mischievous wink, directed at Emily who giggled and glanced up at her teacher cheerfully.

“He really nailed you, Mr. Boot.”

“Mr. Boot?” Terrence guffawed with laughter, earning himself a withering glare from the smaller man and then he waved it off casually, leaning towards Emily instead, “You know, you’re every bit the little devil your teacher here wrote me about.”

Emily grinned up at him full out – it was the best compliment she’d gotten in a while now. Returning her grin, the large man searched the pocket of his coat hurriedly.
“That is why I am absolutely sure you’ll like the birthday gift I brought you.” he added before looking exaggeratedly worried, “I just hope I didn’t forget it…”

“You didn’t, you didn’t! What is it, what did you bring me!?” Emily squealed with joy and broke away from her tutor to grab onto one of the large pockets on Terrence’s coat and peer into it eagerly, “Is it a ferret!?”

“No, something better.” Terrence laughed heartily and finally pulled his gift out of somewhere inside his huge coat, presenting it to the girl victoriously. “Happy birthday, little miss.”

“Oh my goooosh!” the girl practically screamed with joy as she snatched it from the large hand, much to the disapproval of her teacher.

“Really now, that hardly seems appropriate for-“

“PAPA!” Emily exclaimed as she pounced over to her father who just entered the lobby, smiling at his daughter’s enthusiasm before he even knew what was going on. She waved her gift at him, “Look! Look what Mr. Terrence gave me! It’s a real, pirate’s eyepatch! Isn’t it COOL!?”

“Very much, my dear.” said Mr. Walters, delighted at seeing his daughter so happy, “Maybe we can organize a treasure hunt for you one of these days? With a map and riddles?”

“Pffft, why go through all that trouble when I can just rob people!” the girl snickered to herself and put the eyepatch over her left eye, bolting off the very same second and disappearing through the door with a battle cry. “YAARRRR!”

Mr. Wellington cringed and then shot his old friend a fiercely disapproving look which only made Terrence choke up with laughter.
“Relax, would you, it’s not like I gave her a gun.” he said with a cheerful nudge before he grinned at Mr. Walters and bowed exaggeratedly, “Mr. Jeremy Walters! How long has it been, now? Ten years?”

“More or less.” the bony man replied with a warm smile as he shook the huge hand, “But please, you must be cold. Let’s move to the guest room. The Byrdes are arriving later?”

“Yeah, there was an issue with my young, genius student’s attire.” the large man replied, emphasizing the word ‘attire’ with a frilly gesture of his hand before grinning at his host, “Apparently, it’s not the same thing as a dress. I dun’ know nothing about that, so I high-tailed it out of there. You got something to drink around here?”

“We have boiled wine and cocoa…there’s kind of a theme going on.”

“That’s a start.”


♥♥♥​


“Oh, Nigel, darling, isn’t this romantic?” chirped a blonde woman, dressed in an elegant beige raincoat as she all but twirled past the maid who’d opened the door to the Byrde family, “The rain and the wind – just like that fall when we got engaged! Do you remember, love?”

“Of course I do, my Treasure,” replied a short, wiry man with bright orange hair and scruffy moustaches of matching colour as he squelched inside after her, “We went for a ride in that gondola despite the rain.”

His wife giggled frilly at the memory, “My mother was so mad at us for getting wet!” then she seemed to remember something else and craned her neck towards the door, “Angela, dear, hurry up, you’ll get wet!”

“Not until you and father stop embarrassing me!” came a disgruntled shout, followed by what appeared to be a pink, plastic raincoat hanging under an umbrella of matching colour. Only when it snapped shut angrily was it possible to see that inside the coat was a seven year old girl with very light, blonde hair – flawlessly smooth and straight despite the rain – and disapproving, wine-red eyes.

She managed to look highly dignified as she took a critical glance around the premises, despite the fact that a small puddle of water was spreading from around her white boots.
“I guess this is fine if we don’t stay too long.” she commented before directing a sharp glare at her parents, “We won’t, will we?”

Her parents exchanged helpless looks before her father managed to look stern.
“Poppet, this is a very important day, we told you that.” he said solemnly. “You will make a lifelong friendship today, so try and keep an open mind.”

The girl wrinkled her delicate nose.
“Don’t say that like it’s already decided.” she huffed defiantly as she began to shrug out of her wet raincoat, mindful not to soak her hair, “What if I don’t like her? What if she’s terrible?”

Free from the raincoat which she coolly handed to the maid and now dressed in an impeccable white dress jacket and a flouncy pink skirt, Angela took a pokeball out of her pocket and released a small pokemon unceremoniously.

It was a short, bipedal little thing, no taller than two feet. Upon being released she let out a joyful cry and danced around her owner gracefully a few times before settling at her side. The green form covering her head which resembled a cap on its former evolution stage, now looked like a hair style with two red decorations at each side. Her red eyes were gentle and carefree and her white body with the area above her green legs that looked like a tutu, made her look like a little pokemon ballerina. When they stood side by side, it was difficult to say who had better posture – the girl or her pokemon.

Feeling a bit encouraged with her pokemon at her side, Angela glanced up at her parents, looking resigned to her fate.
“Let’s get this over with.” she sighed and, as if on cue, the door inbetween two flights of stairs which joined at the top opened and their smiling host walked towards them.


♥♥♥​


Back in the guest room, when Mr. Walters left their company to greet the Byrdes and arrange the girls’ meeting, Terrence and Mr. Wellington suddenly fell serious, despite the lighthearted chatter that surrounded them.

Terrence took a long sip from his glass of steaming hot, cooked wine and directed an unusually serious look at his friend.
“So…it’s time already.” he sighed heavily and added, “Too damn early, Jacob. They’re babies, what can they do?”

“We have no choice.” Mr. Wellington replied grimly. “Remember, this issue was supposed to be dealt with a long time ago. Now the situation is becoming alarming.”

The large man glanced at his friend worriedly.
“I didn’t want to ask about that in the letters,” he grumbled, somewhat bitterly, “that brilliant student of mine has a talent for solving calculus problems and sniffing out secrets. I take it your research isn’t doing too well?”

“Oh, the research is fine, couldn’t be better.” Jacob sighed tiredly, “It’s the results that are worrying. It was barely noticeable back in the day, but now it stands out like a sore thumb. Less and less pokemon eggs are being created every year. Even those we find don’t hatch a lot of times. It used to be a rare exception, but now it’s becoming more frequent.”

“I could’ve told you that with no fancy research.” Terrence said darkly, “We had a hell of a time when we were looking for a partner for Angela. There just weren’t any young pokemon around…and she’s picky too. It took forever to find one she liked.”

“Yes, well, I hope she’s not as picky about friends.” Mr. Wellington said, looking slightly alarmed, “Emily is a bit- eh…but no, I’m sure they’ll get along fine. It’s their fate, after all.”


♥♥♥​


Having agreed that it would be best if the girls met without any outside interference, the Byrdes and Mr. Walter left Angela to wait in a small library for Mr. Walters to find his daughter and send her there.

Little did they know that a predator was lurking from behind the heavy, indigo curtains, waiting for Angela to be alone.

When the enthusiastic parents left the room, the blonde girl gave up her dignified poise and plopped down onto a low stool, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her palm with a loud huff.
“I don’t want to be here, Dee.” she muttered miserably, “Whenever my parents pick out something for me it’s a disaster.”

The Kirlia called ‘Dee’ tilted her head up at her mistress, clearly affected by Angela’s ill mood.
“Well…” she replied telepathically, “…maybe- maybe…MAYBE she’s nice? And kind? And fun!”

She giggled and danced around the room with outstretched hands and the blonde girl snickered a little at the sight. Dee’s cheerfulness was always contagious, especially since the psychic pokemon always put all her energy to make it so. She spent so much time trying to get the hang of telepathic communication and transferring positive emotions in order to make her owner happy, the other psychic abilities she should’ve developed by now were quite poor.

Breathless from dancing, the pokemon halted in front of her owner, now truly enthusiastic about this whole deal.
“Maybe- maybe she likes to dance and- and- you could play together and sing,” she chattered with glowing eyes, “and stay up late and share secrets and eat candy and go on adventures and-“

“Okay, okay, don’t work yourself into a heart attack.” Angela laughed and leaned forward to hug her pokemon impulsively, now completely sharing her good mood, “You’re right, maybe it’ll be fun. After all, she’s a noble – how bad can she be?”

At that time, the lurking predator decided to spring.
“YAAARRR!” Emily screamed from the bottom of her lungs as she lunged from her hiding place, “YER MONEY OR YA LIFE, WOMAN!”

Angela jumped away from the screaming wild girl who was wearing a torn and dust-stained blue dress over a pair of jeans, as well as an eyepatch and a butchered birthday cap that was supposed to resemble a pirate’s hat. The blonde girl stared at the strange child for one, frozen moment and then she took a deep breath.

And screamed from the bottom of her lungs.

Overwhelmed by her mistress’ terror, Dee joined in with a high-pitched, continuous wail.

Emily cringed and covered her ears with her hands frantically, trying to block out the horrible noise. After a minute or so, Angela ran out of breath and stopped screaming, instead settling for staring at the strange girl in horrified outrage.

When she realised the noise was gone, Emily let go of her ears and glared at the hysteric blonde girl.
“Jeez, you don’t have to be such a drama queen!” she snapped with a mixture of apology and annoyance, “I wasn’t really going to rob you! Er...or kill you.”

Angela managed to scrape up the last shreds of composure she had left and piece them together so she could speak coherently.
“You…you scared me to death!” she croaked out lividly, her voice now weak from the previous abuse, “Are you insane!?”

“No, I’m a pirate.” Emily replied defensively. “Can’t you see the eyepatch?”

Before Angela could reply, her mother, white as a sheet, barged into the room, followed closely by her husband, Emily’s father and Terrence and Mr. Wellington who’d all hurried over when they heard the scream.

The blonde woman rushed to her daughter immediately and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Angela, what happened, are you okay!?” she asked breathlessly, though she was calming down already.

“Nothing, just that this lunatic scared me to death!” the blonde girl hissed, casting a venomous look at Emily who gaped back in disbelief.

“Wha- hey!” she snapped back angrily, “I was only playing pretend! It’s not my fault you’re a chicken.”

“I’m not a chicken, it’s YOU, you jumped out screaming like a-“

“Chi-i-cken! Buk-aaw, little chicky!”

“Stop that!” Angela snarled, now crimson red in the face. “At least I’m not crawling behind curtains in filthy tatters!”

“Oooh, chicky’s angry now!”

“Emily, that’s enough.” Mr. Wellington scolded the girl sternly, “Angela is out guest and- wait, no, really – what happened to your clothes?”

“I’m a pirate,” she replied sullenly, clearly seeing no need to further elaborate.

“Oh, so all pirates dress like ragamuffins?” Angela snapped at her venomously, causing her mother to let out an outraged gasp.

“Angela!”

“No, only the fearsome crew of the Indominatalable!” Emily replied with thick dignity.

“Indomitable!” Mr. Walter groaned helplessly, causing Terrence to snicker and nudge him.

“Well now, no harm done.” Mr. Walters declared good-naturedly as he approached his daughter and took her by the shoulders, “Why don’t you all join the other guests for some cake while I take Emily for a change of clothes.”

“They look upset, maybe they should go home.”

“Emily!”


♥♥♥​


Some fifteen minutes later, Emily was back among the guests, now dressed in a white, lacy dress though she refused to take off the eyepatch and it was now perched on the top of her head. She needed both eyes to unwrap her presents.

“Here, dear, this is from the Byrdes.” her father told her with a warm smile as he passed her a box, wrapped in golden decorative paper.

His daughter scowled in Angela’s general direction as she unwrapped her gift, revealing it to be an adorable, stuffed Furret doll with a blue ribbon around its neck. The girl sized it up before glaring at Angela sourly.

“Did she pick it?” she asked icily, causing the other girl to grimace.

“Of course I didn’t, I’d rather shake hands with a Muk.” came a hissed reply.

“Then I love it!” Emily declared with a sweet and icy smile and hugged the toy theatrically before moving on to another gift.

One bicycle, a chemistry set, several gorgeous dresses and a lot of stuffed pokemon dolls later, Emily’s father appeared with a broad grin and a dark-blue present with a golden bow and little stars scattered across the wrapping paper. It had holes on each side and something was scuffing about inside it as Mr. Walter gingerly placed it in front of his daughter.

“Happy birthday, my dear.” Mr. Walter said warmly before he leaned in and kissed the top of his daughter’s head, murmuring into her hear, “Gently now – it’s still a baby.”

With an excited squeal, Emily assaulted the wrapping paper and soon tore enough away to pry the box open and peer inside it over the edge.

Hesitantly, a small, round blue head appeared, with little, pink antennae-like extensions on each side and tiny, brown eyes – curious, but slightly frightened as well. The antennae wiggled as the little head traversed around the edge of the box, the little blinking eyes exploring the surroundings and all the people gathered, before it came nose-to-nose with its new owner.

“W-woopah?” it mewled softly and Emily pulled away a bit with a look on her face, difficult to read.

“It’s- it’s so-“ she stammered, looking uncharacteristically serious before breaking into a grin and all but diving into the box to scoop the little creature up for a hug, “So cute! Waaaah, it’s so adorable! I love, love, LOVE you so much! Oh, you cute, little, adorable thing, you’re SO cuuuuute!”

“You said that already.” Angela grumbled sourly, something about Emily’s enthusiasm grinding on her nerves.

But her comment went unnoticed as the other girl was too busy huggling the little pokemon who, shocked at first, now looked overjoyed by the attention.
“Cute, cute, cute, cute!” she squealed happily, not even noticing Mr. Wellington who was suddenly studiously by her side.

“Miss Walters, that there is a Wooper.” he told her academically, “A bipedal, amphibian water fish-“

“Thank you!” he was cut off by an overjoyed squeal as Emily, the little pokemon still nestled in the crook of her arm, pounced on him and hugged him around the middle, “Thank you, I love it, thank you! Papa!”

She broke away from her stunned and embarrassed teacher and pounced at her father who was much more willing to accept a hug.
“Thank you!”

No longer able to withstand such intense joy holding still, Dee giggled and broke away from her owner, dancing around the room with cheerful grace.
“D-Dee, get back here!” Angela snapped, furiously red in the face, but her pokemon seemed to be in a trance.

The blonde girl ground her teeth and settled down, now in a really foul mood. She couldn’t really get angry at her partner for disobedience when she remembered how their own first meeting had passed – with Angela coldly sizing up the little Ralts that had timidly grasped the end of her skirt and saying, “It’ll do, I guess.”

She had deprived a wonderful pokemon from a joyful beginning of their union, it would be really cruel to forbid her to enjoy someone else’s, at least.

Unaware of her least-favourite guest’s discomfort, Emily held up her pokemon, rubbing her nose against the front of the Wooper’s face, where she imagined his would be if he had it, before pulling away to size him up critically.
“I’m going to call you…” she said ponderingly, before breaking into a grin again, “…Blu!”

A silent pause ensued in the room before Mr. Wellington groaned to himself.
“Such a choice hardly merited the dramatic pause.” he commented jadedly before hobbling off towards the boiled wine table.

“I’m Emily,” the girl told her new pokemon and the Wooper blinked up at her curiously.

“A-are you my momma?” he asked in a little child’s voice only Emily could hear.

She stared at him for a second before hugging him again with a squeal.
“So cuuute, I love you so much!” she cooed, startling several people in the room, “I’ll be even better than that!”

“I’m going to be sick.” Angela sighed, causing her pokemon to dance to a halt next to her and grab onto her hand with two of her own, white ones.

“Don’t be like that,” Dee told her gently, “if nothing else, now we’re sure that she is a good person. A very, very good, loving person. And she’ll be a great friend to you.”

“Not if I have any say in it.” Angela muttered darkly.

Still ignoring her, Emily bounced off with her new friend, completely having forgotten about all the guests and her birthday party.
“I’ll show you around, Blu.” she cooed to the little pokemon, currently snug in her arms, “And you can be my First Mate on the Indomitable.”

After a pause, the little pokemon grinned, “Yay!” and after another, longer one, “What’s a Indominatable?”

Mr. Walter observed his daughter’s happiness with sheer warmth radiating from his pale eyes, but every now and then a concerned look would escape him and stray over to where Angela sat sulking. In all respects, the girls’ first meeting was a spectacular disaster.

After the party, he sat down with Angela’s parents and formed a pact to keep trying until the girls became friends, or at least tolerated each other, but from where he was standing (and knowing his daughter’s temperament), that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

♥♥♥​
 

LonelyHat

Fedora-sama
Hello, dear (possibly imaginary XD) readers! This is a thing I invented called an inter-chapter. Or a chapterlet. Or a bindittogether. Or a thingy. It's something I'll be posting inbetween every chapter that has tidbits of plot that might be important later on. ^^ Sometimes it will progress the plot, but most of the time it's the thing that makes you go "Ooooooohhhh, so THAT's why!" much later on when you read this crazy piece of...marshmellow. ^^

And hey - first signs of the disturbingness I mentioned. ^^

♠♠♠♠


Chapter 01a ~ The Dark Place

♠♠♠♠

Emily liked nothing better than spending snowy December afternoons outside, playing in the snow. However, given the fact that she had already spent a snowy December morning like that, and a snowy December lunchtime, Mr. Wellington sternly declared that any more snowy daytimes would be hazardous to her health and that she was to stay indoors for the rest of the day.

So, Emily gathered her pokemon and all her crayons and some paper, claimed her favourite room in the mansion (her father’s study) as property of the crew of the Indomitable and was soon sprawled on her belly in front of the fireplace, doodling away while Blu watched in amazement as the colourful shapes appeared on the blank paper. Occasionally, he would nudge a crayon Emily needed towards her, bringing it within her reach.

Having spent several minutes in deep concentration, focused on the creation of her new masterpiece (and annihilating nougat-flavoured caramels), Emily finally looked happy with her work and presented Blu with a picture of an uneven, beige circle with some pale green splotches on it.

“There, what do you think?” she asked proudly and Blu squealed with joy.

“Yay, yay, I like it very much!” he cheered while doing a funny little dance on his stubby legs before he scuffled closer and tilted his head around ninety degrees to the left as he studied the drawing, “What is it? Can I eat it?”

“It’s a pokemon egg.” Emily told him proudly, “Don’t you remember, you came out of one of these.”

“I don’t remember the outside.” Blu replied innocently, “I just kind of remember how it was warm and safe inside. I was really, really happy to be there.”

“Why’s that?” Emily asked, folding her hands before her so she could rest her cheek on them.

The little Wooper looked a bit uncomfortable before he answered. He glanced around fearfully and danced in circles a few times before he wobbled over to his master and wriggled under her left armpit until his little head was close to her face, safe within the loose crook of her arm.

“Because being in the egg meant that you finally got away from the Dark Place.” he whispered barely audibly, as if talking about it any louder might bring it here somehow.

“The Dark Place?” Emily whispered back, without even knowing why and for a moment it felt as if even this very room, the safest place in the world for her, was somehow alien and menacing.

She felt a shiver go through Blu’s smooth, rubbery skin before she heard his voice.
“I don’t really remember it well.” he whispered anxiously, “I…don’t think I’m supposed to be remembering it at all. I just- I just know that there was something there before I was in the egg. Something bad. Like-“

“There you two are!” Mr. Wellington snapped as he slammed the door open, causing Emily to jerk up with a startled scream.

The room was suddenly back to normal and the feeling of safety was there again, but something cold remained lingering in her memory like a warning.

“Scream all you like, but you’re not escaping math practice.” the young teacher scowled at his student and her pokemon darkly, “Library – five minutes. I mean it!”

When he disappeared, slamming the door behind him, Emily sat back on her heels with a huff of relief.
“It was just Mr. Boot.” she half-sighed, half-giggled, “Man, he scared me.”

“Don’t be afraid – this place is nice.” Blu said happily, “It’s warm and bright and safe. I like it. And I like Emily too.”

“And I like you right back!” Emily giggled as she crush-huggled the little pokemon again before a roar coming from the library startled her.

“Math practice, Miss Walters!” she heard her tutor shout and snickered before rising from the floor.

“Come on, Blu, let’s go.”

♠♠♠♠

That's it. ^^ And - still lovin' those flip-flops! XD
 

Diddy

Renegade
My my, the one thing I didn't expect to find in here was a well crafted piece of fiction.

With a name like Superhero Cowboy Space Pirates, there's nothing really you can expect, I came in here ready to point you in the right direction, give you some friendly advice, but it looks like you don't need anything from me. I thoroughly enjoyed the characterisation of Mr. Wellington and the set-up, foreshadowing a mysterious future known to the parents of these two children who are being forced to make friends.

It certainly got me wondering.

And there's the fact that I can't resist an R rated fic, being a writer of a few myself.

I will be coming back to see where you go with this, colour me intrigued.
 

LonelyHat

Fedora-sama
Thank you, Diddy, you made my day! XD Especially this part:

With a name like Superhero Cowboy Space Pirates, there's nothing really you can expect

Mufufufufufufu, eeeeeexceleeent ~ that was kind of what I was going for! You know, people underestimate low expectations so much. X3

And there's the fact that I can't resist an R rated fic, being a writer of a few myself.

Okay, but remember ~ there won't be anything R-ish for a looong while. And when it comes it'll be kind of a shock. Like, Disney, Disney, Disney ~ SPLATTER! XD

I love doing the Disney-splatter thing. ^^ Anywho, chapter two...I totally didn't mean for that to rhyme, but now I'm amused. X3



♣♣♣♣

~ Chapter 02 ~

S.C.S.P. Official Rule No. 01:
“Captain Hook is misunderstood.”

♣♣♣♣


With a heavy sigh, Angela left the coolness of her family’s air-conditioned limousine and stepped out into the scorching sun to face the most hated sight of Walters’ mansion. Her parents have been dutifully dragging her here every chance they got for around ten months now, ever since that wretched birthday party. They visited on weekends, went on picnics with the people, spent New Year’s Eve together and now, to Angela’s utter horror, her parents decided that she should spend most of her summer vacation with the Walters'.

No amount of pleading and raging against this ludicrous decision seemed to do any good. They dropped her off mercilessly and were already busily tormenting the driver to unload all of Angela’s things and take them inside.

Mr. Walters was waiting for them on the porch, smiling broadly, as if he was nothing but overjoyed to see them. At his side, Emily was fiercely sulking and generally looking even more wretched than Angela felt. Bizarrely, the sight of her looking so utterly miserable actually caused Angela to feel a pang of camaraderie for the very first time since they met.

Indeed, these forced encounters were a misfortune they had no choice but share. Sure enough, over the many meetings organized by their parents, a vague, silent arrangement came into existence without them even noticing – they kept out of each other’s way as much as they possibly could and ended up only having to meet during meals. It was easy, with their very different personalities. Angela would spend the day reading or playing with her dolls indoors while Emily was always outside, imagining new adventures for the crew of the Indomitable.

Angela felt a little better with that in mind and glanced over her shoulder, looking for Dee. She smiled a bit when her pokemon glanced up at her loyally from right behind her ready to provide friendship at any given time.

“Welcome, dear friends.” Mr. Walters greeted them earnestly and shook hands with both Byrde parents before leaning to extend his hand to the daughter, “How are you, my dear?”

From anyone else, Angela would take the question as open provocation. How could she possibly be in this stupid situation? But it was impossible to feel that way about Mr. Walters. The man was so openly and hopelessly kindhearted and earnest in everything he did and said, that no person could possibly find it in their heart to be angry with him.
“I’m well, thank you Mr. Walters.” she chirped with a smile as artificial as her mother’s wax fruit and did a small curtsey as an afterthought, “And yourself?”

“Quite well, my dear, thank you.” said Mr. Walters and glanced at his daughter hopefully, “Emily, won’t you greet our guests?”

The girl glared up at him, her pale blue eyes radiating indignation, though the impact was somewhat diminished by the eyepatch that was currently pushed up above her forehead along with most of her crimson bangs which now stood out at odd angles.
“Welcome.” she ground out, infusing the word with such rancor that it more sounded like “go away”.

“Well, we’re off!” Angela’s father said cheerfully and patted his daughter’s blonde head, “Have fun, honey. Let’s go dear!”

The last sentence was eagerly directed at his wife who giggled and hugged his side, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“We’re going straight to the famous Lavaridge spa in Hoenn!” she told Mr. Walters confidentially, causing Angela to roll her eyes with a faint groan.

“Great, they’re off to a vacation and I’m stuck with the lunatic.” she thought to herself bitterly, but said nothing, instead forcing a sour smile on her face.

“It sounds like a splendid time.” Mr. Walters said with a broad smile on his drawn face, “Have fun and bring back some souvenirs. Emily, dear?”

He spoke on when his daughter looked up at him inquiringly, “Could you show Miss Byrde to her room? I’m sure she’d like to freshen up.”

“Wha- papa, there are people paid to do that!” she snapped back indignantly, “Besides, Blu’s all alone on the cannons and-“

“Emily.”

With a despairing moan, the girl gave up and glared at Angela before jerking her head towards the door.
“Come on, your majesty.” she muttered sourly and trudged inside, looking darkly thwarted.

As soon as they were out of their parents’ earshot, Angela gave up her façade and scowled at the other girl.
“I see you’re still wasting time with this pirate nonsense.” she said toxically, earning herself a skeptical look Emily gifted her with over her shoulder.

“I see you’re still a jerk.” she replied icily.

“Gn- what kind of a comeback is that?” Angela snapped savagely, “Can’t you think of anything more sophisticated? You know direct insults are the lowest kind.”

“Bite me.”

Angela took a moment to look appalled before she snorted haughtily and flipped her blonde hair in a queenly manner, “Like I said – unsophisticated.” she scoffed, “Let’s just get this over with so you can go back to playing Captain Loserbeard.”

“Nice. And then I’m the unsophophisticated one.” Emily bit back sarcastically, causing Dee to cringe from the sheer amount of dislike every word dripped with, “And for your information – I’m not the Captain anymore. My crew mutinied because Blu and I kept giving our loot to the poor and now we’re plotting to take our ship back along with the Merman Prince, Shelley, thank you very much!”

Apparently somehow convinced this won her the argument, Emily marched forward victoriously while Angela speechlessly exchanged disbelieving looks with Dee.

Only when she was left alone in her room, with her pokemon and her luggage did Angela heave a sigh of relief and let her guard down.

“This is going to be hell…” she muttered miserably as she unstrapped her huge, straw hat from her head and tossed it to the bed.

“Oh, come on, think positive!” Dee told her mistress gently, taking hold of her hand and pulling her to the window, “The room is really nice and the weather is great and you remember they have that huge, gorgeous library and- and- OH! Look! A swimming pool!”

Angela huffed a bit and felt a little better. This could work. After all, this place was huge – she could probably go on for days without seeing that freak.

Emily, in the meanwhile, had high-tailed it back to her vaguely ship-shaped tree house with some old, tattered table cloths serving as sails and dove right into the bushes that had three large pipes constructed from those little cardboard cylinders toilet paper is rolled on.

“Okay, Mr. Blu, how are the preparations for the battle going?” she asked breathlessly and a little chunk of mud came out of the nearby pond and waddled over.

“Mud!” Blu replied happily, causing the girl to nod solemnly.

“I see.” she said, looking gravely serious, “Well, those yellow-bellied, cowardly, gutless scaredy-cat chickens had it coming to them! Onward! YARRR!”


♣♣♣♣​


The first day passed by peacefully with Emily and Angela in the same room only during dinner. But over the course of the following days, Angela found that it was much more difficult to avoid the other girl than she thought it would be. Emily was used to roaming her father’s large mansion and seemingly infinite grounds and would pop up in the most unexpected places.

Like one time when Angela sought respite from the scorching heat in the cool library and was enjoying a riveting novel over a glass of lemonade. It was perfectly peaceful for a while until a distant crash broke out. Then a somewhat closer thud followed by the sound of running footsteps. First that ridiculous Wooper patted into the library, looking utterly panicked.

“Woopah! Woopaaaaah!” it squealed as it ran around in small circles until Emily barged inside.

“Aaaargh, make him stop!” she wailed and Angela vaguely wondered what she meant until a little Pichu also ran inside, squealing angrily from the bottom of his little lungs while chasing after these two on two legs and menacingly shaking a tiny fist at them at the same time.

“CHU! Pichu-Pichu! Chu-Pichu! PICHU!”

Just as suddenly as they entered, they all ran outside in the same order – Wooper, Emily and then the Pichu.

Given the fact that the only pokemon she could understand was Dee, Angela glanced over at her jadedly.
“What was that about?” she asked with thick exasperation.

“Uh…well…I’m not really sure.” the Kirlia replied, looking worried, “Blu was shouting for help and then Emily ran in shouting to make him stop and the Pichu shouted- er-“

She cleared her throat a little before bellowing, “Come back here, you ingrates! The implications of the cosmic order and its ordinances are not to be so easily circumnavigated!” she fell silent and scratched her chin pensively before adding, “Or something like that.”

With a sigh, Angela turned her crimson eyes back to her book, “I knew I didn’t want to know.”

Still, the novel seemed to have suddenly lost its charm and the room suddenly seemed too quiet and dull. After a few heroic efforts to restore her previous enjoyment, Angela slammed the book shut with an irritated ‘tch’.
“Even when she’s not trying, she spoils things for me!” she snapped out of the blue, startling Dee with the sheer amount of vehemence in her voice, “Come on, Dee, let’s find something else to do.”


♣♣♣♣​


Another time, on a sunny, Saturday afternoon, Angela thought she found respite at the huge swimming pool just behind the mansion. She was comfortably stretched out on an inflated, pink pool mattress, enjoying the sun and the gentle ripple of the water when someone let out a pained moan from what sounded as arm’s length away from her. Startled, she pushed up on her elbow and lifted the huge sunglasses from her eyes only to see Emily stretched out on her belly on top of a gigantic, fluorescent green inner tube with Blu by her side.

“Blu…this looks like the end…” she moaned despairingly, “We’ve been floating for days…with no food…and no water…and it looks like those Sharpedos are back again…”

“Woooo-paaah…” the little pokemon languished pitifully by her side, causing Angela to roll her eyes.

“Go starve to death somewhere else!” she hissed and pushed the inner tube away with her leg, sending it sliding towards the center of the pool.

“Waaaaaaah!” Emily screamed exaggeratedly, theatrically trying to look like she’s holding onto the gently swaying tube for dear life, “Blu! It’s that shriveled, old, evil hag again! She used the evil powers of her moldy foot to send us to Lugia’s territory!”

Angela heaved a sigh and laid back again, pulling her sunglasses down again.
“Just ignore them and they’ll leave.” she thought to herself furiously, “Just ignore them…ignore them…ig-“

“BLU, look out!” a scream nearly caused her to jerk up and a series of little waves that followed caused her mattress to bounce. She glared over under her sunglasses to see Emily now on her feet on the tube, rocking it left and right while pointing at the water.

“Thar she blows, Mr. Blu!” she roared fearlessly, “The legendary white Lugia! I’ll catch you this time, Lugia! Mr. Blu – the harpoon!”

“Woopah!”

Angela ground her teeth together lividly while, on the outside, she still looked like she was peacefully enjoying the sun.
“Ignore…ignore…ignore…” she chanted in her thoughts until the waves rocking her mattress became even more violent so now she had to clutch the edges to keep herself from sliding into the water and a scream broke out.

“Oh no, we’ve made her angry!” Emily shouted, “She’s coming from the right side, Mr. Blu! AAAAAHHH! Man, that was close! AH – she’s coming back!”

“Would you stop tha-“ Angela began to snap at her when a wave of water washed over her, soaking her to the bone.

Emily froze where she was balancing on top of the tube and Angela slowly glared over at her.

“Mr. Blu, the white Lugia went after the hag!” she half-shouted, half-giggled, trying desperately to stay in the role, “This is our chance – paddle for your life!”

With a giggle she began paddling towards the edge of the pool, aided by the little pokemon who jumped into the water and pushed the tube as he swam with all his might.

“Um…Angela?” Dee called out carefully to her livid owner who suddenly took her sunglasses off and hurled them towards the retreating tube. Of course, they plopped harmlessly into the water a few feet away from their thrower and Angela snarled angrily.

“Gh- that- that- UGH!” she heaved angrily before screaming after Emily who was already at the other end of the swimming pool, scrambling over the edge, “And ANY Lugia is white, you ignorant brat!”


♣♣♣♣​


Some days later, in the evening, Angela actually enjoyed herself, playing chess with Mr. Walters in the family living room. She was something of a prodigy, actually, and had long ago run out of worthy opponents to play with. Mr. Walters, however, proved to be one and the game grew rather long.

A good hour and a half into the game, while Angela was glancing between her Queen and her Rook, Emily patted through the room, dragging a roll of dusty, red wallpaper. She didn’t pay them a single glance and Blu patted after her happily.

“Woopah-woopah…woopah…” he chattered cheerfully until they both disappeared through the door opposite from where they came in.

Angela stopped glaring from the corner of her eye and returned her attention to the pieces, realising suddenly she’d been completely neglecting her Bishop which was in a nasty pin right now and only protected by a lonely Knight. Maybe she could use it for distraction?

Her trail of thoughts was interrupted again when Emily patted through the room again, followed by the Wooper. She went through the door and re-emerged again carrying an old fishing pole.

“Emily, dear, what are you doing?” her father asked matter-of-factly.

He smiled fondly when his daughter merely replied, “Research,” and disappeared through the door again, Blu close on her tail.

“Woop-Woopah-Woop…”

Grinding her teeth together, Angela glared back at the board again and grabbed the Rook savagely, using it to vengefully knock an unfortunate pawn out of the way.

Mr. Walters pondered the situation with his index finger pressed to his lips before reaching out to move his own Bishop.
“Your King is in check, dear.” he informed Angela, somewhat apologetically.

“What!?” the girl snapped, her eyes searching the board frantically, “Impossib- oh…”

She realised she had opened herself up for this with her previous move.
“I knew something would go wrong as soon as ‘she’ showed up…” she thought to herself sourly and shifted her Knight into the Bishop’s way.

Mr. Walters immediately knocked out the Bishop Angela’s Knight had been covering.

“Hey, papa, where did you put that fake moustache from Halloween?” Emily asked from right next to Angela, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Hm…I’m not sure, dear…did you check the attic?”

“Yeah, that’s where I found the fishing pole.” the girl replied before glancing over at Angela who was just about to use her Rook to knock out Mr. Walters’ Bishop, “What are you doing!?”

Thinking she had nearly made a foolish move, Angela froze, holding the piece over the Bishop.
“What!?”

Emily snatched the Rook away from her and cradled it to her chest.
“Don’t you know how to play chess?” she asked, sounding completely appalled, “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Emily took her father’s Bishop and joined the two pieces together.
“Because they’re in love!”

Angela glared at her toxically and ground out, “What?”

“Yeah, Bishop and Rook are having a tragic romance.” Emily elaborated and placed the two pieces on the board so she could move Angela’s King and Mr. Walters’s King closer, “Bishop’s mother and Rook’s father are trying desperately to tear them apart and-“

She left the two pieces and, as Angela gaped in astonishment, reached for others as she mentioned them in her story.
“All the pawns are helping them because they think siding with royalty would help them get promoted to higher positions.” she said enthusiastically and reached for more pieces, “However, the Knights on both sides are helping Rook and Bishop because they’re under their command and they’re more loyal to them than to the rulers. Of course, they have to keep it quiet or they’ll be executed.”

She paused to take a breath before grabbing some more chess pieces.
“Meanwhile, black King is imprisoned in the dungeon because he wanted to support Rook,” she continued her story, completely ignoring Angela who now glanced disbelievingly and helplessly between Emily and the chaotic board, “He’s doing it because he had a thing going on with Bishop’s mother, white Queen, but their own parents separated them too. On the other hand, Bishop’s evil twin, the other Bishop, is plotting to storm Rook’s defenses and steal Rook for himself, only he doesn’t know that Rook’s kind twin, the other Rook, found out about it and is plotting to take Rook’s place because she’s in love with the other Bishop herself. She’s going to disguise herself as her brother and wait for him.”

Angela blinked. Something was wrong. Well, of course, everything was wrong, this whole situation was one, huge, WRONG thing, but…
“Wait…from what you said…the- er- other Bishop and Rook are both guys.”

Emily paused to look up at her.
“They are.” she said, as if she was pointing out something blatantly obvious, “Why do you think the King and Queen are trying to tear Rook and Bishop apart?”

“Er- because they’re supposed to be enemies?” Angela ground out, giving up her attempts to stay out of this lunacy in favour of trying to make some sense out of it.

“No, you silly!” Emily said with a light giggle, “It’s because Rook and Bishop are both guys who are in love and their folks are stuck-ups.”

She glanced to the door where Blu appeared, proudly sporting a pair of dusty, thin moustaches, the kind you usually see on old-school, monocle-wearing villains.
“Oh, great, you found them!” she straightened up with a proud wave of her hand over the ransacked chess board, “Now that’s chess! Come on, Blu, let’s finish Captain Hoo- er- I mean…the research.”

She patted away, followed closely by Blu, leaving Angela speechless and flabbergasted and Mr. Walters incredibly amused.

After a long, thunderstruck moment, Angela snapped towards the door, even though Emily was long gone, “I was winning!”

Probably sensing her owner’s annoyance, Dee broke out of her pokeball and looked up concernedly at Angela’s livid face.
“Um…well…the story was really nice.” she offered helplessly, but got only an angry huff in reply.

“My dear, if it helps any, I can assure you she isn’t doing it to annoy you.” Mr. Walters said calmly while arranging the pieces back to their original positions, “It’s just the way she is – when she gets caught up in one of her worlds, she forgets everything else.”

“But- but- why does she constantly have to do it around me, when she knows we’re not getting along!” Angela snapped, despite the fact she knew Mr. Walters would always, always take his daughter’s side, the same way her own parents would take hers, “I try my best to keep out of her way and she still always ends up doing all those silly things around me.”

“That is odd, even for Emily.” Mr. Walters agreed, a fond smile tugging at his lips, “You want to know what I think?”

Angela glanced away, caressing the top of her pokemon’s head which caused Dee to let out a delighted purr.

“I think that, in her own way, Emily is trying to bring you into her world.” Mr. Walters said warmly, smiling as he placed the Rook and the Bishop back to their original places, “She might not even know she’s doing it, but I think she is trying to become your friend.”

He tilted his head, studying the board critically, as if he was making sure everything was the way it had been before Emily disarranged it.
“If you like, we can continue the game now, dear.” he said finally, smiling warmly, “It’s your move, I believe.”

Absentmindedly, Angela picked up her Rook again and made to knock out the Bishop, but her hand seemed frozen, fingers cramping around the piece.

After a moment, she put it down with a sigh.
“If it’s all right, I’d rather go to bed now, Mr. Walters.”

“That’s perfectly fine, my dear.” Mr. Walters said warmly before rising and giving her a small, gentlemanly bow, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Byrde.”

Angela left the board and made her way to her room, but when she reached the lobby, she paused in the very center of the black and white, tiled floor and took a moment to stare at her feet pensively. Her pokemon lingered at her left hand worriedly, her red eyes searching her mistress’ face. Dee was finely attuned to her owner’s emotions and usually she could tell what was wrong if Angela was in a foul mood, but now there were so many conflicting things there that just perceiving them all was confusing.

“Um…” she timidly offered, drawing Angela’s annoyed eyes to herself, “…if you’re not sleepy, we could, maybe…do something else?”

She had taken a risk and went along with the strongest of Angela’s impulses she could feel, but even that one was just a speck more prominent than all the others. When the blonde girl sharply looked away, as if embarrassed, Dee felt a bit more confident that she was on the right track.

“Maybe…we could go and- um…see what Emily was up to?” she offered shyly, “It- um…it looked like she was having fun?”

“She’s mentally deprived, she’d be having fun eating mud!” Angela snapped savagely, making her pokemon cringe for a second before her shoulders slumped slightly and she suddenly looked much less guarded, “I’m sure she doesn’t want us meddling in whatever ludicrous thing she’s up to.”

Dee peered upward and perked up seeing her owner wasn’t angry with her.
“Oh, I don’t know…” she giggled with a twirl, “…she did deliberately parade all that stuff past us. If she really didn’t want you to know, she’d take a different route – this house has millions of passages.”

Angela looked painfully torn between her pride and her curiousity for a moment, before she glanced over at Dee, almost pleadingly.
“Y-you really think so?”

The Kirlia twirled and squealed with joy before she grabbed her mistress’ hand and began pulling her towards the left flight of stairs she knew led to the corridor to Emily’s room.
“Sure, sure, let’s go see what she’s doing!” she chirped happily, “I’m not sleepy, let’s go play!”

With a grumble, Angela allowed herself to be led up the stairs, through the corridor and to the door of Emily’s room. They weren’t hard to find, really – painted blue with golden stars and a crescent moon, as well as covered in all sorts of stickers depicting ships and pirates and pirate flags and treasure chests and prancing, pink Ponytas every here and there.

Angela’s confidence shrank and then shriveled away into nothingness as she stared at a small Spinarak, holographic sticker on the round doorknob. There was no way this could be a good idea. This…person was exactly the type of people Angela would normally avoid like the plague – rude, unpredictable and refusing to acknowledge her superior intelligence. What were their parents thinking, trying to get them to become friends? There was no way.

“This is a bad idea.” she said suddenly and swiveled around, striding determinedly across the soft, burgundy rug back where she’d come from.

A soft yelp of surprise and Dee was at her side again, tugging on her sleeve with gentle insistence.
“Oh, no, come on, let’s go see what she’s doing!” she said pleadingly, “Pleeeease, I’d really like to know.”

Magic words. Angela froze in her tracks and glared at the Kirlia who cringed and drew away guiltily. Dee didn’t know it yet, but at this point of their friendship, there was very little Angela could bring herself to refuse her partner if she could it was really important to her.

So, now as well, Angela huffed and pouted, but she marched straight back to that ludicrous door and knocked on it sharply, not bothering to wait for reply before she pushed into the room.

Poking her head inside, she looked around with trepidation, not entirely sure what to expect. Emily’s room was every bit as odd and conflicting as Emily herself, the blonde girl concluded as she gathered the courage to step inside and close the door when Dee was in as well. Originally, there was supposed to be a dark-blue and golden moon and star theme to match the door, but now it was difficult to spot due to all the other strangeness that yanked any visitor’s attention away.

In the corner left from the door there was a massive, yellow world globe, safely contained within a wooden frame. It looked large enough for Emily to climb and stand on top of and, judging from some vaguely foot-shaped stains, it was exactly what she did. Right next to it, against the wall, there was a tall bookshelf, but books made out only about one percent of the stuff that was stacked into it. All the miscellaneous items were clearly regularly dusted and neatly arranged, but so various and unrelated to each others that the impression of chaos was unavoidable.

There were some snow-globes, a slingshot, a family of porcelain Phanpy and a Donphan, a jar of colourful, glass marbles, a Purugly piggy bank, a set of decorative, black, wooden chopsticks, a raggy, straw doll with one button eye hanging out, some various sized tube-like things Angela assumed to be either looking glasses or kaleidoscopes, some plastic spaghetti, some stuffed pokemon dolls, a HUGE, tangled mass of at least twenty different bead necklaces, a lot of ornate bracelets, mundane rings and clap-on earrings (for some reason, looking at the cheap, glass jewelry, Angela got a mental image of Emily stuffing them all in a box and burying them to be dug out as treasure later), some small, vaguely-human shaped figures constructed our of tiny twigs that were bound with some old, straw string and a lot of other stuff mixed inbetween.

The rest of that wall was taken up by a huge bay window with a comfortable little bench, covered in cushions to sit on in its crook. Since there didn’t seem to be anyone in the room right now to mind, Angela approached it and looked outside. It gave a nice view of a part of the grounds she hasn’t been to yet – an area with a lot of fruit trees and one, large oak tree that towered above all the other trees, creating an empty ring in its shadow where no other tree could hope to prosper.

It was immediately clear to Angela that this tree and the area around it was Emily’s empire – there was a tree house nestled between its branches that looked more like a ship trunk with some colourful and many times patched up table cloths serving as sails. The ground under the tree was littered with all sorts of constructions made out of branches and twigs and cardboard that probably only made sense to Emily herself, and the whole area was well illuminated at night by a web of lanterns hanging from cables spread inbetween all the trees at safe distance from their branches.

Something about the sight made Angela feel hollow. She didn’t have anything of the sort at home, a place that belonged just to her. With a soft sigh, she turned away from the window to continue looking around the room before Emily got back.

Against the next wall, the one at the far opposite end of the room from the door, there was a big, comfortable bed shaped, of course, as a ship. This was clearly custom made by a skilled craft master, as it resembled a Victorian sail ship up to the smallest details, all of which impeccably carved into the flawless, luxurious wooden surface. To accommodate the theme, the bed was actually taller than a normal one would be and very difficult to get into if there weren’t for the rope ladder that hung from the edge to the floor.

Next to the bed and in the crook of another, large, bay window, there was a study desk which actually surprised Angela with its prim neatness. But, still, Mr. Wellington was probably more responsible for that than Emily herself.

Thinking of him, Angela reddened a bit and allowed herself a small, wistful sigh. So dreamy. She had such a crush on him. It was an act of cosmic injustice that such a brat got such a perfect tutor while Angela herself, an acknowledged child genius had to put up with crazy old kook Mr. Wolfe. He was a decent enough person, but as a teacher, he made Angela’s hair stand up.

Turning away from the desk, she came face to face with a strange construction. It had an old broom stick for a body and a stick tied to its upper end in a horizontal position as arms. An old rag ball served as a head and Angela recognised the fake moustache Emily had been looking for earlier on its “face”. The crimson wallpaper was cut to shreds now and clumsily wrapped around some parts of the “body”, held in place with a ton of Sellotape. Still, though it was neither well-made, nor half finished, it was pretty clear whose likeness Emily was trying to capture. Especially with the fishing hook that hung off a string tied to the left end of the stick that was supposed to be the thing’s arms.

Most of the last wall was occupied by a huge, long aquarium full of crystal-clean water and its bottom covered with a thick layer of sand which was decorated with very life-like corals, water weeds and many toy shipwrecks and treasure chests. Angela guessed from a flight of tiny stairs that led from the floor to the edge of the aquarium that this was Blu’s playground.

“Tee-he, I like it!” Dee chirped as she danced closer to her owner, looking elated, “It’s strange, but I feel so uplifted here – it’s full of positive energy.”

“I never saw you like that in my room.” Angela muttered sourly with a sidelong glare, but Dee seemed to be in too good a mood to be scared by it. Instead, she giggled.

“Oh, I won’t fall for that.” she said airily, “The vibes I get from you and the ones I get from her are too different to be compared. She just gives off this tremendous energy and creativity and it makes me feel hyper-happy.”

She looked upward into her mistress’ pale face and leaned her head into the crook of her arm.
“But when I’m with you I feel safe and ten times more happy in a calm, secure way.” she finished warmly, making Angela look sourly uncomfortable.

“Eh…fine.” she grumbled tetchily and turned away abruptly to inspect some little thing in the aquarium. Dee snickered and went back to dancing around the room until the door opened with a creak and they heard a jolly “whoop-whoop, whoopah” being repeated as Blu followed his owner into the room happily, his little head craned up as he was trying to make out Emily’s face behind a pile of old pillows she was carrying, nestled on top of which there was an ancient fish bowl.

With a huff, the girl tossed her load on the floor next to her Captain Hook double. Angela cringed, thinking the bowl would roll to the floor and smashed, but it only bounced harmlessly on top of the soft pillow.
“Phew – that ain’t feather light.” she snickered before spotting Angela and Dee and freezing in place, “Er…hi?”

She suddenly glanced down at the pile of pillows and then quickly up at Angela.
“I didn’t steal these.” she said quickly.

Angela scowled at her and opened her mouth to snap how she couldn’t care less, but Dee nudged her from behind with surprising strength, causing her to stumble a step closer to the other girl. After glaring at her, Angela redirected her glare to the point in the floor in front of Emily’s feet, which were snug in her fluffy Sentret slippers.

“Eh…I was just…well, I mean…ehm.” she mumbled torturously before seemingly mustering enough coherence to straighten out proudly, “I thought since you so clearly paraded all this stuff past me while I was playing chess, I’ll let you show me what you’re doing.”

After a moment she added as an afterthought, “And get it over with.”

Emily glared at her sourly, but then her eyes wandered over to Dee who was looking up at her with trepidation of what she’d say next. The red-haired girl sighed and walked over to her creation, grabbing a stripe of wallpaper from the floor which she then began coiling around one of the ‘arms’, making a sleeve.

“Pass the Sellotape, will you?” she muttered without looking at Angela who flinched at the unexpected demand.

She was just about to bark back at her to get it herself when Dee nudged her again.
“Ngh- I…fine.” she ground out and marched over, picking the roll of tape and handing it to Emily.

She was about to turn around and march away when Emily’s voice stopped her again.
“Now hold this while I stick it together.”

Eagerly and joy welling up inside her, Dee watched her owner first scowl, but then walk back and kneel down on the soft carpet next to Emily to hold the indicated part of the wallpaper. She giggled suddenly and set off dancing around the room while the two girls kept dressing the Captain Hook double which, Emily later informed them, was actually his clone from the distant future.

The fish bowl was to be his helmet, to help him breathe in outer space.

Emily and Angela didn’t become friends that summer. And, to be honest, not much changed after they made the dummy together. They went back to avoiding each other and often arguing when their avoidance failed.

Angela was still overjoyed to go home, even though – much to her horror – her parents decided that there was a natural hot spring under their house and were determined to dig it out in the north wing. And, Emily was still overjoyed to see her leave.

Still, it was kind of a start. You can’t clone captain Hook together and ship him into outer space without forming some kind of foundations for a possible friendship.

♣♣♣♣​


Well...see ya! ^^
 
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Diddy

Renegade
whee, very lulzy!

The end reminds me of the part in the first harry potter book where it say, "There are some things that you can go through and you can't help becoming friends, and fighting a mountain troll is one of them." or something to that effect.

I must say though, this is fast becoming the most odd pokemon fic I've ever read. Almost everyone you read has a goal that becomes apparent at the start, be it a journey or place etc. but this up until this point is just adventures at home and troubles with tutors and some kid having fun. It's quite refreshing.

One mistake!!!!!

You called Phanpy, Phampy (or to be more precise, you used the term Phampies - even though the pluralised version of any pokemon is just that. Phanpy = Phanpy)
 

armaldo

Pittsburgh Pirates 7th Super Bowl
I'm lazy and an attention *****. So when you see any words here with a silent "e" or using (sort of) homonyms instead of the actual words or words that don't even exist. That's on porpoise. -_0

Before I reed a fic, I scroll down the page to get a feeling of length and the substance of the fic, to see if it's something worth spending my time on.

When I did that here, the thought that went through my mind was, "Jesus Christe, this girl went to town with this fic. Damn!" I thought I'd never get through scrolling down the first chapter.

For me, personally, I try avoiding long fics like these, because to give a fair review I'd have to read the entire thing and comment on certain parts, which is harder on long fics because, well they're long. And I usually don't have a lot of time spend readin stuff on the comp.

But, right now, as I type this, it's night time. I like staying up all night with no sleep (screw health). I usually have nothing to do other than contemplate life and watche Family Guy (which you wouldn't think would help, but it does, strangely). And you seem like a nice person and a good-enough writer. It be a shame not to have a review for something you appeared to put a lot of time in.

Anyways...
Now, mere ten years later, his face was already wrinkled, his hair lined with gray strands and his eyes tired and somewhat watery in colour, as if worn out through arduous use. Though he was in his early thirties, he looked at least ten years older, if not more. A lot of times, people would think his little girl was actually his granddaughter. All around, he resembled a living antiquity, old and forgotten in some dusty place. His hands, lean and bony, always quivered ever so slightly which would cause his cup to make a curious, clattering noise against its dish whenever he was having tea.

Sometimes, Mr. Walters would make a dry remark how the only thing fueling his functions nowadays was the immense energy his daughter all but radiated. Even now, just standing in front of the room she was in, made him feel revitalized. He could hear her voice, sounding somewhat annoyed and high-pitched and realized, with a soft chuckle, that she was arguing over something with her tutor…again.
Your wholee first few paragraphs reminds me of something I read about John Stuart Mill. Jeremy Bentham, founder of Utilitarianism, and Mill's father put him him through endless, Spartan-like sessions of education that lasted throughout his childhood in an effort to turn him into the Perfect Utilitarian. He did grew up to be a famous Utilitarian, but he was severely depressed and had nightmares the rest of his life, which he blamed his rigorous education for. The fact that the father's name is Jeremy makes it eerier for me.

But on to you. Though I chose this quote as the example, your whole story shows how wonderful you are at prose. One of the best syntaxes I've ever read. And in the quote, it really projects his sense of old age and frailty. Just marvelous.

“It’s actually Mr. Wellington, Emily and I wasn’t trying to annoy you.” the young man said impassively as he approached them with a stoic look on his face. He used a cane with a plain, silver head as support for walking, as he limped heavily on his left leg due to reasons he never bothered to reveal to his employers. “I was merely pointing out that a young lady of your position should dress appropriately.”
Mr. Wellington...So very snobby British, are we?

“Not wasting any time, are you?” he murmured pensively while tucking a loose strand of his dark-brown hair behind his hear. A second after, he broke into a smile, “Perhaps it’s better that way.”
Oh, that's nice.

“Oh, Nigel, darling, isn’t this romantic?” chirped a blonde woman, dressed in an elegant beige raincoat as she all but twirled past the maid who’d opened the door to the Byrde family, “The rain and the wind – just like that fall when we got engaged! Do you remember, love?”

“Of course I do, my Treasure,” replied a short, wiry man with bright orange hair and scruffy moustaches of matching colour as he squelched inside after her, “We went for a ride in that gondola despite the rain.”

His wife giggled frilly at the memory, “My mother was so mad at us for getting wet!” then she seemed to remember something else and craned her neck towards the door, “Angela, dear, hurry up, you’ll get wet!”

“Not until you and father stop embarrassing me!” came a disgruntled shout, followed by what appeared to be a pink, plastic raincoat hanging under an umbrella of matching colour. Only when it snapped shut angrily was it possible to see that inside the coat was a seven year old girl with very light, blonde hair – flawlessly smooth and straight despite the rain – and disapproving, wine-red eyes.
Wow I can just feel th costume Britishness coming off from the words.

Mr. Walter observed his daughter’s happiness with sheer warmth radiating from his pale eyes, but every now and then a concerned look would escape him and stray over to where Angela sat sulking. In all respects, the girls’ first meeting was a spectacular disaster. ”
Aw well. Best laid plans of mice and men...

With a heavy sigh, Angela left the coolness of her family’s air-conditioned limousine and stepped out into the scorching sun to face the most hated sight of Walters’ mansion. Her parents have been dutifully dragging her here every chance they got for around ten months now, ever since that wretched birthday party. They visited on weekends, went on picnics with the people, spent New Year’s Eve together and now, to Angela’s utter horror, her parents decided that she should spend most of her summer vacation with the Walterses.
I'm pretty sure the plural is just "the Walters"...

Indeed, these forced encounters were a misfortune they had no choice but share. Sure enough, over the many meetings organized by their parents, a vague, silent arrangement came into existence without them even noticing – they kept out of each other’s way as much as they possibly could and ended up only having to meet during meals. It was easy, with their very different personalities. Angela would spend the day reading or playing with her dolls indoors while Emily was always outside, imagining new adventures for the crew of the Indomitable.
Tomboy and Girly Girl...I juste got dun reading that page on Tv Tropes...

As soon as they were out of their parents’ earshot, Angela gave up her façade and scowled at the other girl.
“I see you’re still wasting time with this pirate nonsense.” she said toxically, earning herself a skeptical look Emily gifted her with over her shoulder
.
Wow. You actually bothered to use the fancy little "c' in spelling "Facade" How nice of you...

I can't believe that's it..."

Tooke me about an hour or so o read both chapterss. (I apologize for the lack of substance in the comments. There just wasn't much to comment on specifically)

As I've said before, your style is magnificent. Clear and descriptive yet full and flowery.

Your fic reminded me of a costume drama, and it has the same feeling (if I can really even call works of literatur costume dramas). It's kinda like Barry Lyndon (in that Barry Lyndon's the only costume drama I've ever seene) if Barry Lyndon had pokemon in it. (Barry would have a Misdreveous, probably) It's length didn't really even phase me, in fact, it seemed to make the feel of it much more real (Costume dramas tend to be long and drawnout).

All in all; Well done. Very well done. I look foward to more of this.
 

LonelyHat

Fedora-sama
The end reminds me of the part in the first harry potter book where it say, "There are some things that you can go through and you can't help becoming friends, and fighting a mountain troll is one of them." or something to that effect.

Heh, ayup, I allowed myself a little parody of that. ^-^ Frankly, I thought those three became friends way too fast, but who asks me... >.> Anywho - good job on noticing! XD

I must say though, this is fast becoming the most odd pokemon fic I've ever read. Almost everyone you read has a goal that becomes apparent at the start, be it a journey or place etc. but this up until this point is just adventures at home and troubles with tutors and some kid having fun. It's quite refreshing.

Mehehehem...don't forget this fic is a product of leisure! XD I lazily wrote it when I was feeling too lazy to write any serious stuff and the plot progresses lazily on as well. ^^

One mistake!!!!!

A-ha! XD Thanks, I never could get Phanpy right...it just SOUNDS like Phampy when I say it. XD

@armaldo ~ Hahaha, you know what? I like you. ^^ That was a really fun review to read (too long to quote, though ^^'''), I mean really - thanks for making it so fun and for the compliments and criticism and for- uh...the times when I wasn't sure which of those you were doing. ^^;

I'll fix the plural and the fancy 'c' in facade is thanks to my auto-correct Word thingy so I can't take credit. X3

Anyways, the new inter-chapter! XD Hm...inter-chapter sounds kind of stupid...I need a better name for it. Maybe it would sound fancier in German? Unterkapitel!

>.>

No.

♦♦♦♦

~ Chapter 02a ~
With the Stars

♦♦♦♦



Angela was happy. The impeding autumn finally tamed the previously scorching hot summer weather and now the days were sunny, warm, but just breezy enough to be pleasant. Oh, and she was home, yes. Not having to worry about pouncing brats interrupting her peace every second. She was finally free to go back to reading, studying and spending time with Dee in simulated tea parties.

She had just walked into her room – her, lovely, pastel pink and blue room where there weren’t any insane trinkets, only white-furnitured minimalism – back from tennis practice. Tossing her racket onto her bed, Angela smiled at Dee who broke out of her pokeball which was sitting on top of her owner’s impeccable, white study desk.
“Angela, Mr. Wolfe dropped by while you were away,” she said, purring as the girl patted the top of her head, “He left you some homework.”

Angela blinked. Homework? Mr. Wolfe? Those were two words she never thought she’d hear used together in any context. The man was a horrible teacher, his worst flaw, in Angela’s opinion, was the way he never appreciated her genius. It didn’t matter to him that she could easily skip elementary and high school and go straight to college, if she wanted to. He didn’t care about her interest in mathematics, or about her successes in solving even the most difficult problems. When she published her first paper – unheard of in Johto for a child her age – and received positive criticism from world-class mathematical minds, he said that it was “nice, pass the chili”.

He was supposed to be her tutor, but the only thing he wanted to teach was exactly the thing Angela categorically refused to learn. So they were pretty much stuck there.

“Homework.” she repeated suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at Dee, as if it was the Kirlia’s fault, “Actual homework?”

“Well…it’s in a folder and everything.”

Glaring over at her desk, Angela saw it – an ordinary, brown folder sitting unconcernedly there, as if its very presence wasn’t defying everything she’s gotten to know and fuss over in Mr. Wolfe. After a tense moment, she all but pounced over happily.

“Homework, I got real homework, I can’t believe it!” she squealed, shocking Dee with the sheer amount of enthusiasm she was radiating.

The Kirlia looked up at her mistress more carefully while Angela was studying the folder from all sides, like she was delaying the pleasure of opening a Christmas gift. She had no idea such attention from her tutor would mean so much to her. It spoke a lot about her relationship with the man, as Dee had learned long ago that Angela always tried to let someone know she was fond of them, not with words, but by trying to impress them with how brilliant she was. With Mr. Wolfe always so decidedly unconcerned with her education, it has been next to impossible for her so far.

“What do you suppose it is?” Dee asked finally, deciding that pointing out what she just realised would be a grave error.

“Oh, I don’t know…I hope it’s math practice!” Angela replied excitedly and flipped the file open, freezing in place when she took in the contents of the single sheet of paper it contained.

“Be a doll and get me a glass of lemonade when you get back. I’m in the back yard. :)

Love, Terrence.”


♦♦♦♦​


Outside, in the back yard, the abovementioned Terrence was nonchalantly snoozing in a wide hammock that was loosely stretched out between two cherry trees. Due to his impressive stature and all the slack, he sank into it so much that his body formed a ‘V’ shape with his backside almost touching the grassy ground and his crossed feet thrown up, proudly sporting a pair of black flip-flops.

The sound of his snoring drowned out the sound of angry footsteps that rapidly approached and so he had no warning before Angela smacked the top of his head with her ‘homework’ as hard as she could.

“Ow, hey!” he mumbled groggily, trying to remember what was going on as his student kept hitting him with the brown file angrily.

“It’s – not – FUNNY!” she gasped out one word at a time between the blows.

Mr. Wolfe finally seemed to catch on and began snickering as he shielded his head with his arms.
“Ha, ha, ha – OW, okay, okay!” he laughed, making the blows come down on him even more furiously, “Come on – ow! It was a joke! I thought you needed to lighten up.”

“Lighten up!” Angela all but screamed at him, Dee cringing at her side in horror at the amount of her anger, “How much lighter can I get when the person who’s supposed to be my TEACHER refuses to hold a single class!? What exactly are my parents paying you for? To lie around all day and play jokes on me?”

She paused to catch her breath and smack him with the file again.
“Do you realise what you’re doing?” she continued furiously, her usually icy, crimson eyes now narrow and livid, “If I had a proper tutor like Mr. Wellington, I would be at a much higher level now!”

By now, Terrence finally succeeded in untangling himself from the hammock and sat up, shooting a fond smile at his furious student.
“Angie, you are eight years old and already on college education level.” he told her calmly, his brown eyes amused to no end, “If you go any higher, you’ll shoot straight past where you’re supposed to be.”

After a pregnant pause, he added, with a grin, “With the stars.”

Angela paused, her crimson face still furious, but now a little stunned as well – this was the first time Mr. Wolfe actually acknowledged her intellect. After a speechless moment, she scowled up at him.
“How long did it take you to come up with that?” she asked and Terrence flashed a proud grin in return and puffed up his huge chest.

“Whole morning.” he replied magnificently.

Angela rolled her eyes and Terrence took the opportunity to laugh and spread his arms out in a gesture of helplessness.
“See, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he said cheerfully, “I’m a dumb old fool! I can’t teach you science or math, unless you want to brush up on your multiplication table. And even then, it can get tricky when we get to number seven.”

A silent pause ensued and then a snicker finally escaped from Angela. Then another and another and from there it was like a dam broke and she started giggling for all she was worth. Dee fidgeted uncertainly, more confused than ever before – she could clearly sense Angela was still angry, but at the same time, she was caught up in a surge of warm fondness.

Trying hard to keep a straight face, Terrence pounced at his chance.
“Come on, humour me just this once, will you?” he grinned at her charmingly and waved his hand lavishly towards Dee, “Here, look at your pokemon. Just really look at her like you want to see her completely. I just want to show you what I want to teach you, what have you got to lose?”

Her narrow shoulders still trembling with suppressed giggles, Angela brushed away a small tear of laughter and composed herself enough to take a good, long look at her pokemon. After a second, she blinked and paled, every trace of laughter gone from her face.

“Careful now!” Mr. Wolfe warned her when she swayed a bit and then shut her eyes, reaching up with her pale hand to massage them.

“Angela, what’s wrong?” Dee fretted, immediately at her owner’s elbow, trying to catch her look.

Seeing her so obviously worried, Mr. Wolfe snickered and gave Dee a pat on the head.
“It’s fine, it’s just a big strain when you start off.” he told her gently and nudged Angela on the shoulder gently, “Hey, you – saw it?”

Dropping her hand back to her side, Angela revealed a pair of darkly disgruntled, crimson eyes which she immediately turned away.
“Yeah, I saw it.” she muttered, “Whatever. Don’t make a big deal.”

She whipped around and strode a few steps angrily before her shoulders slumped and she stopped to glare back at her tutor who, strangely enough, looked serious for once.
“We can start lessons tomorrow.” she ground out lividly, feeling as if she was admitting defeat, especially when Terrence grinned back happily.

“Will do, Miss!”

“And don’t look so happy.”

“No problem…hey, can I still get that lemonade?”

That day, Angela’s parents returned from their picnic in time to witness the not-so-everyday sight of a grown, six foot tall man laughing his heart out while trying to shield his head with his arms from their small, eight year old daughter who was smacking him with a brown folder furiously.

“You know, dear,” Angela’s mother said meditatively as she studied her daughter’s behaviour, “I think she’s ready to get married.”


♦♦♦♦​
 
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Diddy

Renegade
“Be a doll and get me a glass of lemonade when you get back. I’m in the back yard. :)

Love, Terrence.”

Legend.

That day, Angela’s parents returned from their picnic in time to witness the not-so-everyday sight of a grown, six foot tall man laughing his heart out while trying to shield his head with his arms from their small, eight year old daughter who was smacked him with a brown folder furiously.

GAR! Ye be mixing tenses up at thee end thar! should be smacking rather than smacked. :p

One thing, seeing as you use british english, that makes you - in all likelihoods - either british, canadian or australian (or an extremely awkward american xD), may I enquire as to which?

anyways

Outside, in the back yard, the abovementioned Terrence was nonchalantly snoozing in a wide hammock

I always preferred aforementioned myself but whatever.

And the thingy at the end really got me wondering, what did Angela see to make her stop like that?

All round enjoyable chapterlet or post-chapter-mini-bridge. I think Bridge will do as a name, An author here used them in his (amazing, you should read it) fic, Aftershock, his writing still to this day amazes me, I have a feeling you'd like it, it follows a somewhat similar pattern to this. In the way it starts off innocent and descends into R rated territory.

One little niggle, is the title. You have Spade.Club.Heart.Diamond *title* then you repeat the pattern. I would have thought it better if you reverse it, so it would end with Diamond.Heart.Club.Spade but I suppose that's my ocd coming out so feel free to ignore me. :p
 

LonelyHat

Fedora-sama
GAR! Ye be mixing tenses up at thee end thar! should be smacking rather than smacked. :p

Oh my GOD! D: That's a horrible mistake! Why did I make that mistake!? So embarrassing...if my mom or my roomie/proofreader saw that, I'd be dead now! Fix-fixy-fix...theeeere, everything's fine, no one saw anything. x3

One thing, seeing as you use british english, that makes you - in all likelihoods - either british, canadian or australian (or an extremely awkward american xD), may I enquire as to which?

Awkward American! /giggles hysterically/ I'm neither of those - I hail from the Balkans, actually, where people are lazy and...I am too. xD

All round enjoyable chapterlet or post-chapter-mini-bridge. I think Bridge will do as a name, An author here used them in his (amazing, you should read it) fic, Aftershock, his writing still to this day amazes me, I have a feeling you'd like it, it follows a somewhat similar pattern to this. In the way it starts off innocent and descends into R rated territory.

Aaaaww, you mean I didn't invent unterkapitel after all? Bummer. (._. ) But hey, thanks for recommending, I'm really interested now so I'll give it a read when I'm back to my normal have-internet-whenever-I-want state. ^0^

One little niggle, is the title. You have Spade.Club.Heart.Diamond *title* then you repeat the pattern. I would have thought it better if you reverse it, so it would end with Diamond.Heart.Club.Spade but I suppose that's my ocd coming out so feel free to ignore me. :p

Waaaaa - how do you NOTICE this stuff, I wasn't even aware I was repeating it! xD Maybe I should make a 'thing' with it, though... :-k

Thank you for commenting (and pointing out that horrible, HORRIBLE mistake o_O''' Seriously, what happened to me?). ^^
 
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