A/N: *waves sheepishly* Hello, people, please don't kill me. I have various excuses for not updating in so long, some good, some bad. I won't get into them. Suffice to say, I'm not happy with the chapter but it's been too long and now it's done and edited, I may as well put it up, right?
Firstly, to those reviewers I never replied to--thank you for letting me know you were still reading! ^.^;
Secondly, this chapter has upped the story's rating to PG-15 for excessive language use, so be warned--there's a lot of swearing in here. I didn't intend it, but Tynan just wouldn't shut his mouth, so blame him. Plus, I've gone back and revamped some stuff in previous chapters (or will have, eventually. The idea of having to reformat all those bold and italics tags is... ehhhh). Nothing major, really; just stuff like... now Tarn and Keegan don't seem to bond as easily as they did before, that kinda thing. Noticeable if you were to go back and read it, perhaps, but not terribly important in the big picture.
Finally, I want to dedicate this chapter, despite its suckiness, to two members of this forum: Flannery and Arwen, because they both cared enough to take the time and PM me with encouragement about this chapter (even though it probably didn't help as much as we all hoped).
Unfortunately, the next chapter won't be out quickly either. It won't take as long as this one (I hope/promise/Godhelpme) but some of the upcoming plot needs rethinking and I'm in my final semester of Uni (as in, I'll be
graduating at the end of this year, eep!) so... yeah. Sorry! ;_;
To make up for it though, here are some pictures of my OC characters, including one who will appear in about chapter 22. :3 I have more, but they're not inked, so you don't get to see them. Yet.
http://purple-drake.deviantart.com/art/Keegan-Pokemon-OC-93638677
http://purple-drake.deviantart.com/art/Tynan-Pokemon-OC-93638867
http://purple-drake.deviantart.com/art/Jason-Pokemon-OC-93638997
That's it. ^^ Enjoy, and have fun pointing out all the suckiness, especially towards the end.
~ VII ~
TO RECOVER WHAT IS LOST
STORM CLOUDS.
Brother could hear them, taste them, feel their chill in his fur, their blinding illumination making his vision flare white every time lightning flashed.
He licked the air almost pathetically, hoping beyond hope that the Wish-Giver might have answered his prayers, but all he could taste was water, water and trees and soil. There was nothing to follow. There was no trail. There was nothing.
“Brrreeeenn!” he keened in frustration, dark paws kneading the ground in little showers of dirt every time he pulled up with his claws. The bush under which he was sheltered kept on dripping, leaving his short fur sodden, his long ears drooping on either side of his head beneath the weight.
The Woodland of Bondage was nearby, and with it, the Town of Ensnarement. They were the icons of the area—that girl, that
human, she was sure to have gone there.
But the legends-damned sky-water washed away any chance of picking up that familiar and loathed scent, warm and spicy, tempered by the tang of salt. He couldn’t follow her through the Path of Turning Circles, had lost her trail in the Woodlands because of the weather, could only assume that she had been to the Town of Ensnarement.
Now she was gone, and Bairn, sweet, frail Bairn, had gone with her.
And he didn’t know where.
O Guiding Light, show me where the Stained has walked, so I may seek my pack, my litter-mate, my brother, he thought despairingly, casting the prayer up to the heavens for the Guardian to hear.
He would wander forever if he had to, but he couldn’t afford to waste the time; there was no telling how she could hurt him, subvert him, if Brother got lost, if Bairn was left in her clutches for too long.
The sky roared, water began to fall, and Brother could only flop miserably down to the semi-dry ground, at a complete loss, his lithe body beginning to shiver a little in the cold.
And then came running the human answer to his prayer.
Thunder boomed overhead, the wind lashing at the foliage, whipping the leaves. Rain pelted the ground like bombs, the crackle of lightning casting an eerie, intermittent glow over the path.
Damn—damn—damn—damn!! Tynan cursed inwardly, one arm raised to stave off the downpour, the other clutching his bag close, his boots pounding the wet dirt as he ran down the path which supposedly led to Fuchsia City.
How people can stand this—I can’t believe I left home for this
!
His sleeveless green coat flicked and flapped around his legs, the material heavy with dampness, dripping in his wake, its hem peppered with mud that flecked onto his trousers with every step.
Cover, I need cover—damn this storm, anyway, no wonder no one ever goes travelling—
Well, no one worth knowing, at any rate.
The path dipped, making him step through a puddle before he could detour, water splashing up to drench the tops of his boots, but he didn’t do much more than curse; there was no point in stopping, he’d only get wetter.
I’ll probably reach the gym sooner than the Centre, it’s on the outskirts—I can wait there until it stops raining, the city proper isn’t far after that.
Thank God for that, at least. He’d left Celadon City several days ago, but after having travelled Cycling Road and been confronted by those idiot bikers, he was more than ready to get into a real city. He didn’t know whether what’s-her-name, Keegan, would still be there or not—or whether he’d beaten her there—but he figured if she’d left then someone would’ve seen which way she went and he could trail along.
He did, briefly, contemplate the thought of travelling
with her—but he didn’t want her to start getting expectations and he didn’t intend to follow her for long anyways. Just until he got on his feet, so to speak. Or until he managed to get a clue as to her and Erika’s secret.
Although he’d be damned if he was gonna keep on if it was still raining by then…
“Bruuuun!”
The abrupt howl made Tynan recoil in surprise as a darting figure of yellow and pitch-black exploded from the foliage lining the thin path. The young man swore heavily, instinctively dodging away from it with soggy footsteps, casting up sheets of mulch and water.
The figure—
an umbreon?! Tynan thought incredulously—skidded across the width of the track, fur bristling wildly and fangs bared in a snarl, its tail and swept-back ears quivering with hostility. Without pausing for breath it launched itself at Tynan in a flurry of leaves.
Shit!
Tynan jerked aside, his boots slipping on the slick terrain to send him crashing to the ground with a breath-stealing thump, the pokéball he’d just managed to snatch up arcing through the air to bounce off a wrinkled tree nearby. The umbreon landed at the same time that a black-feathered murkrow coalesced into existence, sending herself into a shallow stoop with a powerful thrust of her wings.
What the hell…? Tynan rolled over with a groan, pushing himself up onto his elbows, the sleeves of his white shirt soaked through and clinging to his skin. He lifted his head, shaking back his damp fringe, in time to see the umbreon leap away from his murkrow’s Peck attack, the flying pokémon flaring her wings just enough to angle her back upwards with a series of flaps.
The umbreon came down on soft paws, head drawn back as shadows built in its throat, wisped over its muzzle, and Tynan’s heart jolted in recognition.
Shadow Ball—
“Murkrow, dodge!” he shouted desperately, rearing up onto his knees, oblivious to the leaves and mulch which clung to his clothes.
“Krrawk?”
The pokémon sounded startled, but at the hollow roar behind her she banked so sharply to the side that she rolled in midair, wings tucked close to her body as the dusty globe shot past, darkness steaming along behind it. The force of the attack sent the flyer tumbling, uncontrolled, even as the Shadow Ball punched through the canopy and writhed into nothingness beneath the downpour which greyed the sky.
She didn’t manage to catch her balance before the umbreon was right there, but before any attack could connect the murkrow dissolved into red light, recalled.
The umbreon hit ground once again, springing instead for the trainer who had just staggered to his feet, Murkrow’s pokéball still clutched in one hand. With a hiss through gritted teeth which may or may not have been a curse Tynan jerked instinctively back to avoid the umbreon who sailed past, boots kicking up mulch as he twisted to follow the pokémon’s path, a red-and-white pokéball in his hand and pitched before the umbreon had landed.
It was a second after that that he realized the pokéball he’d just thrown was empty.
Fuck!
The umbreon skidded across mulch, legs outstretched to slow itself down, and turned around just in time to see the pokéball coming—and to wait for it, red eyes flashing with some emotion Tynan didn’t understand.
Then it dematerialized, the pokéball dropping to the damp turf, vibrating fiercely for a moment before locking down.
Tynan stared, slightly stunned.
I caught it? But I didn’t even hurt
it!
Although…
It was almost like it wanted
to be caught…
Thunder boomed, startling Tynan out of his thoughts, and the teen shook his head violently, hitching his bag up onto his shoulder.
What the hell am I doing, I’ll get soaked if I don’t keep moving! Re-energised, the trainer dashed forward, scooping up the pokéball as he passed and continued on his run down the narrow path, casting up leaves and debris in his wake.
And inside the sphere in his hand, a red-eyed pokémon trembled with adrenaline and wild glee, fighting the urge to burst from his prison, scornful at the human’s arrogance to think that he’d be so easily subdued.
Take me to her, human.
I will endure this indignity, I will endure being called your
Kin, so long as you take me to her.
The storm-pelted trees opened up ahead of the muddied path, and Tynan hissed in relieved triumph as he saw the tall, thick timber barrier fencing the gym’s extensive grounds, the wood darkened by water and the green roof tiles swept with rain. He ducked through the broken curtain of droplets that scattered over the ground at the edge of the clearing’s canopy, the hem of his coat further drenched by the mud splattering up behind him as he ran across the short hard-earthed stretch of ground between him and the mansion.
The tall wooden gate stood open, the long trail leading up to the entrance lined with dishevelled bushes that were only a blur as Tynan hurried past, his only concern getting inside and out of the wet. It was only once the massive doors had shut behind him with a hollow boom that he stopped to relax, leaning wearily back against the timber and gulping down air, struggling to slow his pounding heart.
The corridors in front of him and to his sides were all identical: narrow, the walls and floor plain wood, lit with round lights set into the ceiling. The thought of just waiting here at the doorway like a coward didn’t appeal to the turquoise-haired trainer, but as his breath slowed to something more comfortable Tynan eyed the passageway warily. He remembered reading about Koga and the Ninja Clan for his history class last year, and the Elite was known for booby-trapping the gym.
True, all gym leaders usually set up some kind of obstacle, but the Fuchsia gym had made it a serious custom. The whole ninja thing, probably… they’ve always been really big on discipline.
He could do without it, but considering that the gym doubled as a ninja training dojo, he wasn’t sure he was going to get a choice. The clans tended to be very… focused… when it came to their training.
Those that are left, anyway. There aren’t many truly traditional establishments left anymore, let alone pure clan-lines.
The Dragon Clan was very secretive about their techniques, the martial clans less so; but the ninjas tended to practise
on visiting trainers.
He shivered suddenly, the insidious cold of his wet clothing becoming apparent now he’d cooled down, and he wrapped his arms around himself, hunching his shoulders to keep his bag from falling. The action made him remember the pokéball he still clutched in his gloved hand, and he lifted it closer to study the black-and-yellow figure inside. Umbreon had good senses, he knew, aside from the fact that they practically had no sense of smell—and their sense of taste more than made up for that.
But, looking at those flashing red eyes and the bristling fur, Tynan decided that this was the last place he should risk releasing a recalcitrant, probably hostile pokémon.
It wouldn’t do any good for my reputation to be seen being disobeyed.
Instead he called out his short, dinosaur-like marowak, who did have a good sense of smell and would be able to tell with reasonable success whether another pokémon was nearby.
“Mmarr,” Marowak rumbled, leaning his weathered bone comfortably on his scrawny shoulder and cocking his head enquiringly at Tynan.
The trainer shook his head, hugging himself tightly, brushing off a stray drop which trailed down his neck. “Just be ready,” he said a little wearily, fingering the semi-transparent surface of the umbreon’s pokéball. “I don’t intend on going in any further.”
The Fuchsia gym was just about last
on my list of gyms to visit. I don’t like the idea of being sneak-attacked.
As if those two nights he’d spent outside hadn’t been enough—he’d hardly slept at all, because of all the damn noises, the paranoid fear that something might attack him while he rested—to say nothing of the damned
rain. And then there had been those idiot bikers who’d ambushed him on the Cycling Road—not once, but
twice, one gang at the entrance to Celadon and a couple of grimy wannabes nearer Fuchsia.
So in all, Tynan wasn’t a happy camper.
He was right about one thing, however.
He didn’t get a choice.
From somewhere nearby there came a muffled pop, following by a low hiss, and automatically Tynan whirled around, only to be met with a stream of acrid smoke. He flinched away from it, one hand flashing up to cover his mouth and nose, the air harsh on his throat as he breathed.
“Mmraa!” Marowak cringed, hunching down as though it would be help him avoid the fumes and gesturing insistently down a corridor with his bone, his brown tail cutting through the smoke which billowed around his scrawny form. Tynan grimaced at the thought—
deeper into the lion’s den—but then another shallow breath caused him to choke and cough. With a mental curse he turned on his heel and fled the main doors in a cloud of miasma, his marowak a swift figure beside him.
His rain-slick boots slipped on the polished floor when he tried to take the first corner, and with an automatic oath on his lips his hands shot out to snatch for balance. As if on cue there came a howl of warning from Marowak, a second before something hard hit the back of Tynan’s knees, making them buckle.
“Sh—”
He was cut off by an explosion of breath when he hit the floorboards, automatically curling over the twinging shoulder which had landed first. “Maro— the hell—?!” he gasped, head aching slightly with the abrupt change in position.
“Mmmrr,” Marowak rumbled, pointing his bone into the airspace above his trainer. With a slight huff Tynan rolled half onto his back, feet slipping as he tried to push himself up, shoving his bag aside—and finally saw the twinkle of the electrified spinarak web suspended at what had been his chest height.
What… the…? He stared dumbly, unable to reconcile the sight as truth, unable to accept that the ninjas had actually set a trap so dangerous for him. Trick panels and smoke bombs were all well and good, but outright
electrocution…?!
“Mmarrr!” Marowak jabbed him impatiently on the shoulder, causing the young man to automatically jerk away with a hiss when the club hit developing bruises, snapping him out of his disbelief.
I need to get out of this nuthouse, was the first thing to come into his mind, followed by the incredulous thought of:
they just tried to kill me!
The idea spurred him back to his feet, his wet coat heavy around his legs, once again remembering the umbreon only when he put his hand out to push himself off the wall. Grimacing, Tynan stuffed the pokéball into its pouch on his belt, slung his bag onto his shoulder, and ducked cautiously under the sparking line to move down the corridor.
He only made the first few steps before Marowak stopped him with an out-thrust paw and a terse grunt. Unthinkingly the trainer froze in place, chest clenching in sudden apprehension and eyes darting around the passageway to find what had given Marowak pause. With a practised flick the dinosaur-like pokémon sent his bone spinning end-over-end down the hall, ripping through glittering spinarak silk with sparks of severed currents, threads trailing like banners behind it. The club struck the wall at the far end of the corridor, dropping to the floor with a clatter and making Tynan twitch.
“
Now is it safe?” he asked with a mixture of guardedness and slight desperation, shifting his weight in preparation for movement—either forward or back, he wasn’t fussed as long as he could get out of there.
I can’t believe the Association actually supports
this place!
A floorboard stirred beneath his foot and his stomach dropped as he froze for the second time in under a minute.
You must be joking.
“Marowak…”
Good God, that could
not be his voice—his voice wasn’t that high, and his voice didn’t
shake—
And then he really didn’t have time to think about it, because there came a wooden clunk from somewhere behind them. Eyes wide in his ashen face, Tynan twisted slightly around to see the rest of the hall, thready wisps of smoke drifting around the corner from the entrance.
He swallowed, his heart beating painfully fast in his ribs as he turned further, trying to see something he didn’t know was there. “Maro— Marowak—what—”
His foot slipped, the floorboard skidding out from underneath him, and with a curse he staggered, struggling to keep his balance. The walls shuddered, groaned, a panel at the near end sliding up into the ceiling, and suddenly Tynan really didn’t care about the fact that he’d almost gone
ass-first towards the ground.
He wasn’t exactly a film buff, but he’d seen enough movies to know what was going to happen next.
Fuck.
“Mmmarrr!” Marowak tugged urgently on his trainer’s coat, and without waiting to see what was going to emerge from the opening—although judging by the rattles there were a lot of them—the pair turned on their heels and ran.
“Trrrrrrzzzz…”
A high buzz filled the hall, the air almost seeming to vibrate with the sound, counterpointed by the clatter of many round bodies against wood.
Tynan’s back prickled wildly with fearful anticipation, his boots pounding the floor in unison with his heart against his ribs, but he resisted the urge to look back; he knew what they were.
Voltorb! Why the hell did it have to be voltorb
—they’re fucking Bomb Balls
!
He pushed himself to go faster, his bag dragging at his shoulder and coat flapping behind him, Marowak’s pattering footfalls an accompaniment to the thud of Tynan’s steps and the slight whisper of dragging silk as it clung to their feet.
The end of the corridor approached in a blur of wooden walls and near-panic, the air behind them crackling with sparks of electricity. The floor shuddered beneath the force of the rolling pokémon, Tynan’s ears ringing with their unending, high-pitched drone to the point that it felt like it was the only thing in the entire world—all except for the harsh rasp in the back of his throat and the stitch growing in his side.
Then he was there, and he was going too fast, and with a curse he slammed shoulder-first into the wall at the far end—
A hidden panel gave way beneath him as he hit and he hurtled into the unlit room beyond, feet slipping on the layer of spinarak silk. Already off-balanced by an expected collision, he crashed to the floor with a whump that left him breathless and wheezing, his previously uninjured shoulder taking the brunt of the blow.
No time no time no time—
Red-faced, Tynan rolled over clumsily, scrabbling into the small room and shoving the hidden door closed with his feet as Marowak darted in, snatching up his bone club when he swept past where it lay. The trainer caught a glimpse of the red-and-white mob packing the corridor beyond—
I was right, they’re voltorb—and his stomach twisted violently with a terrifying realization—
it’s not gonna stop them, it didn’t stop me and it won’t stop them and they’ll explode and I’m a goner—automatically scrambling back from the crackling juggernaut.
The panel clicked shut, outlined only by the bright glow of electricity.
Marowak snarled from somewhere beside him, barely audible over the ear-splitting buzz which vibrated the close walls.
Something hurtled across the darkened space, striking a tab on the wall with a thud.
A trave fell across the door just as the voltorb hit the other side of the barrier. The small room rocked violently with multiple explosions, the near-deafening sounds making Tynan clutch his ears and curl into himself. The panel was almost blasted off its hinges, slivers of wood bursting inwards, the timber splitting, dust and debris billowing in the confined space.
Then it was over, and for a few seconds Tynan just lay and trembled, struggling to control his gasping breaths. When he finally unfolded himself from his foetal position it was with the twinge of aching muscles, his eyes wide in a pale face as he pushed himself up just enough to look blankly back in the direction of the still-very-much intact barrier, ignoring the cloud of dust settling around him.
There’s no way…
“Mmrrr,” Marowak grunted, accompanied by the scrape of tough hide on timber, and Tynan took a deep, shaky breath, deliberately pushing away the thought of just how close he’d been to those explosions.
Shit, but they didn’t teach me anything about this at the University!
Another deep breath.
Light. I need light. Almost immediately he decided against letting Flareon out; the room was stuffy enough as it was, and even though he’d been cold not long ago he now felt flushed, his clothes sticking to him damply. Instead he fumbled for the penlight keychain he usually kept on his belt, clicking it on so that the thin bean wavered over the timber walls, his hand still not quite steady enough for his liking.
Scrambling to his feet, he hitched his bag onto his shoulder, taking a cautious step forward and kicking something that rattled across the slightly debris-strewn floor.
Fuck!
He flinched and froze, his heart leaping back into his throat after just having settled. Wasn’t he ever going to catch a break?!
“Mmmr,” Marowak scoffed at his trainer’s reaction, waddling into the dim light and picking up his bone, the glow playing across the sharp edges of his sleek skull helmet.
Oh. was all Tynan thought for a moment, recalling the sudden, sharp motion in the air in front of him just before the voltorb had struck the panel. A second later he shook his head as though to throw off the confusion, discomforted by his uncertainty, unnerved by his position.
I don’t know what the hell I was thinking when I decided to do this, he thought bitterly as he bent down to scoop up his bag.
These people are nuts. That Keegan girl is nuts. The League
is fucking nuts!
Scanning the ground with his torch, he approached the door warily, the wood furry with splinters and splits. It was only when he looked closer, shining the light over a particularly deep groove, that he realized the panel was significantly thicker than its weight and ease of movement would suggest, likely due to the matte grey material behind the wood.
Lead. The fucking door is lead-lined.
With something between a sigh and a groan he thunked his head against the door, resting his brow against the warm timber and closing his eyes wearily.
I should’ve fucking known. Not even the ninjas are fanatical enough to kill
challenging trainers. If Marowak hadn’t dropped the beam then they probably would’ve done it themselves in a second.
Which meant they were watching him—he already knew that.
It was just that he hadn’t exactly behaved in a manner befitting himself.
I hate this fucking gym.
“Mmmarr!”
Something tugged impatiently on his still-wet coat, but still Tynan snatched an extra second or two of motionlessness, aware of his various aches and the adrenaline-weary drag of his limbs. This was
not what he wanted to be doing when he left home, this was
not how things were supposed to go!
When I get out of here…
When he got out of there he didn’t know what he was going to do, but it included putting the Fuchsia City gym on his list of places he never wanted to go again. In fact he was quite willing to imagine the place didn’t exist. Period.
I’ll check out the city, he thought viciously, opening his eyes and scowling at a fuzzy splinter just in front of them.
The zoo. Maybe I’ll see if I can’t catch something in the Safari Zone, if I have time—not like I’m short on cash, not with what I had saved and the allowance from the Association.
Anything to expunge my memories of this
place!
“Mmaarr!”
“I know, I know,” Tynan grumbled into the panel, and with a huff the trainer raised his head, blinking in the dim light.
Now what? he thought grumpily.
We can’t get out this way, the voltorb will be blocking the door—and I’ve been close enough to voltorb to last me a lifetime, I am not
going to go wading through them. Besides, how do I know they’re all fainted? I could go out there and get exploded for real
!
“Mmaarraww!”
Something hit him on the back of the legs and Tynan jumped, his heart leaping to his throat as he whirled around, his penlight wavering over an impatient-looking Marowak. The dinosaur pokémon grunted as though to say ‘finally!’, pointing impatiently with his bone at the opposite wall.
For a moment Tynan couldn’t see what the big deal was, but then the beam from his penlight played over the wood in just the right way and he saw the fracture-thin shadow that was the seam between door and jamb. He resisted the urge to slap his head, feeling his cheeks warm in embarrassment.
A second door. I should’ve thought of that.
Damn ninja.
He and Marowak spent the next ten minutes making sure the door actually was safe to go through, as quickly and thoroughly as they could in the dim light. When they finished, Tynan eyed the timber warily, still skittish, but his desire to get the hell out of that cursed gym overruled his fear. He prodded the door cautiously near the edge, the weight distribution causing it to swing open easily and without a sound.
The room on the other side appeared even darker than the stuffy antechamber, and Tynan’s mouth turned down in displeasure. The beam from his penlight was like a pinprick in the gloom, their footsteps sounding loud on the floorboards as they entered guardedly. Everything seemed muffled and close, and Tynan could swear he could hear something in the walls, but when he paused to listen there was only the faint drum of rain on the roof.
Still storming, I guess.
The surface beneath his feet softened, but angling the penlight down only showed a glimmery silver carpet… which, considering he was in the middle of a ninja’s dojo, was kind of strange.
Make that very
strange.
Cautiously, his heart doing a slow pound low in his ribs, Tynan scanned the room with the penlight, but he couldn’t see much of the walls—it seemed to get kind of foggy the further the dim light had to travel. “Marowak, can you—”
He walked into something.
His heart moved from low gear to high and he jerked automatically away from the thin web with a curse, but the threads had already clung to his skin and clothes. A second later they pulled taut and he was yanked off his feet, dropping his penlight, airborne for a gut-wrenching moment before his back hit soft wall with a whoomp. His boots found the floor, his bag bounced against his side, still dangling from his shoulder, and he found himself bound to the thick silver web coating the timber wall.
He snarled uselessly into the dark, hands flexing with adrenaline and resentment, straining against the tough silk holding him still.
Shit, I am sick and tired of being flung around!
“Marowak!” he snapped, eyes scanning the darkened room. The beam from the penlight was a soft glow somewhere out ahead of him, illuminating the ‘carpet’—more webs—but other than that there was no movement.
“Mrra-rrr,” Marowak’s stilted, disembodied voice sounded, but Tynan couldn’t tell from where.
I’ve had it with this fucking gym! he growled to himself angrily, tugging at his bonds, twisting his wrists this way and that, to no avail.
“I’d stop doing that if I were you,” said an unfamiliar, female voice, and Tynan jerked in surprise, his head snapping up to search the dark room.
“Stop hiding and show yourself!” he shouted, his tone thick and shaking with anger and annoyance.
“Temper,” the woman chided with slight amusement, but the ceiling flared with over-bright lights, making the trainer flinch away and squeeze his eyes shut against the dazzle.
After a few moments the glow through his eyelids abated and he cracked them open cautiously, squinting a little through the lingering glare, his breath and heartbeat sounding loud in his ears.
The first thing he saw was Marowak ensnared in the corner, the pokémon straining against the silk cocooning him, his eyes narrowed and concentrated as he stretched—futilely—for the bone lying on a bare patch of floor nearby.
The second thing he saw was the massive, red-bodied spider clinging to the opposite wall, its pincers moving slowly. A chill ran down Tynan’s spine, his eyes lingering on the pokémon for several long moments before he managed to tear his eyes away.
Shit, that’s a big fucking bug.
That was when he finally noticed the young woman standing a half-dozen feet in front of him, clad in a dark, thigh-length kimono, her pink hair tied in a short, spiky ponytail and her lower face obscured by the magenta scarf wound around her neck, draping down her back. He could only see her eyes, slanted and amused.
The teen bristled.
Smoke me out, electrocute me, scare me to death, humiliate me, but don’t you dare
fucking laugh and think you’re going to get away with it!
“Who the hell are you?!”
…smooth, Montgomery, real smooth…
The woman raised a hand before her eyes, a pokéstar caught between two fingers, and seemed to smile coyly. “I am Janine, daughter of Koga, gym leader of Fuchsia City.”
The gym leader’s daughter. Shit! Tynan cursed with a particularly savage yank at his restraints, his wrist throbbing when the silk dug into his skin. He didn’t notice—his tingling fingers had unexpectedly brushed the round form of a pokéball beneath his coat.
Abruptly only half his attention was on Janine; the rest was diverted to straining his bonds, stretching for the elusive device as discreetly as he could possibly manage while praying it wasn’t the umbreon’s. Maybe the ninja weren’t actually out to
kill him, but they were doing a f
ucking good imitation and that still made them nuts in his book.
“You know,” Janine said almost conversationally, crossing one arm over her stomach and moving the pokéstar aside so she could study him without it being in the way. “It’s usually good manners for a challenging trainer to introduce themselves first.”
Tynan mustered the best sneer he could manage with his heart pounding in his throat and his hands beginning to throb persistently, threatening to go numb, as he continued to work at the silk. “Then you’re not a very good ninja, are you? I only came into the gym to get out of the f
ucking
rain!”
“Ma-aarr!” Marowak growled an echo to his trainer’s shout, heaving against the web pinning him down and drawing an admonishing chitter from the spindly-legged ariados on the wall.
“Oh my.” The pokéstar shifted back in front of Janine’s face, the flatter side pressed against the cloth over her mouth as though in self-chastisement. It might’ve been convincing, too, except that her brown eyes were gleaming with laughter, their corners crinkling with an otherwise unseen smile. “My mistake.”
Stop. Fucking. Laughing. Tynan snarled inwardly just as he managed to get a hold on the pokéball through his coat. His heart skipped a beat and he had to fight the wave of satisfaction which swept through him lest it show on his face.
“Just as well, I suppose,” Janine mused, apparently not noticing Tynan’s struggles or the reason for them. “Quite aside from the fact that my father isn’t present at this time, you’re clearly not a very good trainer.”
Excuse
me?! Tynan snapped back to attention with a snarl. “What did you just say?!” he demanded angrily with a jerk at the ariados silk, wrenching his shoulders and causing him to hiss at the twinges that ran down his arms.
Janine raised a delicate eyebrow, in disdain or amusement Tynan couldn’t tell, but neither sat well with him. “I did warn you not to do that, you know,” she observed mildly.
“Answer the f
ucking question!” Tynan hissed, feeling stupid as soon as he’d said it, just because the question itself hadn’t been particularly intelligent.
“Well,” Janine said slowly, drawn out, as though debating whether or not he was worth her wisdom. “It’s just that it’s usually the trainer who commands the pokémon, rather than the other way around.”
What the fucking hell does that mean?! Tynan gritted his teeth furiously. “If you’re going to talk, at least make some f
ucking sense!”
The woman sighed behind her makeshift mask, shaking her head slightly without taking her eyes off him—her eyes, which were suddenly serious and… pitying?
“A good trainer isn’t made through education, wealth or the possession of strong pokémon,” she said quietly, and pointed at Marowak with her pokéstar. “Let me guess—this one belonged to a family member or friend before he started travelling with you, correct?”
Tynan tensed, suddenly on edge, but he still didn’t take the chance to make his move, sensing she had a point to make and curious to know what it was despite her attitude. “What of it?”
“Because,” Janine shook the pokéstar at the dinosaur, the pokémon watching her carefully. “
He’s the one making the decisions—he’s the one who warned you about the ariados webs, he’s the one who blocked the door, he’s the one who got you out of the antechamber, all without
your help.”
The turquoise-haired boy flushed, opening his mouth to defend himself, but Janine wasn’t finished. “He’s the one who’s done just about everything, and you’ve just been following
his lead.” The pokéstar shifted from Marowak to point accusingly at Tynan. “He’s the pokémon.
You’re the trainer. It’s
your responsibility to lead, not his.”
The pokéstar was pulled back, the woman resting her elbow on her other arm, the bladed ball held next to her face. “It’s just as well you’re not here for a gym battle,” she concluded grimly. “You’re nowhere near ready for one.”
Tynan ground his teeth, his face as hot as a furnace as he struggled to think of a retort—and yet, he couldn’t find one.
Because she was right.
F
uck it all, despite everything, she was
right.
What the hell am I doing wrong?
For a moment in which he was stuck in a quandary, that was all he could wonder, suspended between shame and anger and what realisation his pride didn’t immediately quash.
Then he shook his head violently, making himself shake in his bonds.
Stop it! I can’t get distracted now—if I’m to save any face at all, I have to get out of here under my own power.
His eyes narrowed. “I may not be ready for a gym battle,” he growled, his heart pounding and head throbbing with tension, determination thrumming in his arms and hands and veins. “But I’m more than capable of taking
you on!”
And he heaved at the silk binding him, throwing himself to the side to toss an abnormally warm pokéball forward with a short jerk. It hit the cushioned ground less than a foot in front of him and exploded in a burst of red light and the roar of purple flames, Tynan already hunching away from the light and heat.
“Smokescreen!”
With a swirl of smoke the flames turned to smog, the Smokescreen blanketing the room. Holding his breath and blinking rapidly against the thick, ashy haze, Tynan pulled hard at his restraints. With only a little pressure they snapped, charred and weakened by Flareon’s downplayed Will-O-Wisp. He shook them off, counting himself lucky that it
had been Flareon. He had spent a lot of time training with the eeveelution to maximise his speed and efficiency by preparing moves while still in the pokéball and taking advantage of their opponents’ delays and his own attacks.
He chose to ignore the similarity in that method with the ninja’s own techniques.
“Two against one is a little unfair,” Janine’s amused voice seemed to echo through the smog.
“F
uck you,” Tynan snarled, his voice strained as he yanked himself away from the wall entirely, raising an arm to cover his mouth with his shirt.
“Language,” Janine chastised in a singsong voice which resonated into a never-ending laugh, making Tynan’s back prickle and the trainer spin around automatically before righting himself.
Breathing shallowly through the material over his face, he stumbled in Marowak’s direction and almost ended up tripping over the pokémon’s hunched form, who was busy straining against the weakened silk while hiding his nose in his paws to temper the stench. Eyes watering fiercely and throat burning because of the smoke, Tynan caught his balance and snatched up the bone Marowak had finally abandoned, using it to break the threads without them sticking to his hands.
Marowak reared up, snapping the last of his bonds, and Tynan thrust the makeshift weapon at the pokémon, already turned half away to searching the thinning smoke for Flareon. The bone had barely left his fingers before he caught sight of a fox-like silhouette standing watch through the nearest veil of the haze, its ears tilted and straining for warning sounds and long fur wavering like sputtering flames.
Tynan tried to think quickly, but he could hardly see or breathe, the ash thick in his mouth and nose and against his smarting skin.
Smokescreen probably wasn’t a good idea, he realised with dismay, because even though it had provided him with cover it was now a burden.
But what else could I have done?
“Ariados, Constrict!”
Tynan’s heart leapt to his throat, his stomach twisting so sharply that for a moment he thought he’d been the target.
Which wasn’t all that impossible, considering she’d been targeting him almost directly since he’d walked in the door.
No, she hasn’t, he realised.
Everything she’s done ‘til now has threatened me and
Marowak.
Which meant she would target all of them, catch all of them in one attack.
Which meant Flareon wouldn’t be able to burn the cords without hurting him more.
Which meant…
Stop thinking!
“Protect!” he shouted desperately just as the lingering smoke seemed to shift beneath the cutting edge of twinkling silk.
“Mmarr!” For what seemed like the nth time, something hit the back of Tynan’s knees. He buckled with a curse, head spinning with the movement, as there was a flare of green light in his fire pokémon’s general direction. A dully glittering veil rolled over them, missing Tynan’s head by an inch as he pushed himself to his elbows. The silk broke upon it and it shattered into drifting shards of fading light, the threads floating gently to the cushioned ground.
“Mmaaar-a!” With a grunt Marowak pulled back his throwing arm and sent his bone spinning away into the thinning haze on the heels of the Protect’s vanishing glow. Tynan staggered to his feet, coughing and pressing the heel of his palm to his throbbing temple.
“We need an exit,” he said hoarsely, the lightly burned skin of his face pulling slightly as he spoke.
Preferably not the one we came in by.
Marowak snorted in an ‘well that’s obvious’ manner, his bone returning to him in a waft of smoke and slapping into his paw. Too late they saw the silk attached, and hardly had the dinosaur pokémon’s stubby fingers grasped around it then the thread yanked and brought the ariados hurtling through the last wisp of miasma, its spindly yellow-ringed legs cocked and braced for a landing.
The sheer suddenness and proximity of a bug that size made Tynan jerk back, his heel catching on a knot of silk in the ‘carpet’ and making him stumble. The sharp movement made his head pound so he wasn’t sure if what came out of his mouth was a curse or a cry or an actual order, but Marowak ducked and tugged hard on his weapon, looping the silk around three of the spider’s legs. The thread slingshot around, hauling the ariados with it on a collision course with the not-so-far wall.
Before the pokémon could hit, air hummed and a draught of wind blades sliced through the silk, passing so near to Tynan’s head that he ducked to the ground with a curse and decided to stay there. With a convulsive motion of its legs the ariados freed itself, shooting a pin of thread to catch the wall and flip itself upright.
“Fire Spin, Bonemerang!” Tynan shouted, jabbing a finger at the ariados while craning his head to find the bat pokémon somewhere above. Fire roared past as Tynan scrambled back, wiping silk off his hands, while Marowak ducked low to avoid the flames, hurling his bone into the inferno.
The ariados shot a thread to the ceiling, gliding upwards on a glistening cord of silk and avoiding the worst of the flames. There came a puff of embers as the bone came hurtling from the roiling streamer of fire, echoed by a blaze of sparks as Flareon exploded out in a Quick Attack, fur ablaze with red and gold veins of fire.
The crobat banked with a silent twist of its lower wings, the blackened club soaring past. With an urgent chitter the ariados tugged on its thread to swing itself out of the way, and Flareon rebounded off the scorched wall with the crack of smouldering embers.
Timber splintered and collapsed beneath the fox’s burning paws, a panel shifting beneath his weight to swivel open, charred ariados silk stretched across the gap like a damaged veil.
Tynan’s head had snapped at up the first sound of wood breaking and for a moment he could only stare at the prospect of freedom only a few feet away, certain it was a trick.
Then: “Protect!” he roared to both his pokémon as Marowak caught his bone with a grunt and Flareon landed on a patch of cleared floor, primly shaking ash off his paws. Two heads cocked towards their trainer in response to his order, and then the corner was cast with double films of fragmented green light.
A second later the first one rippled and shattered beneath the pounding of sludge bombs, purple gunk splattering over wood and web. The second hummed and splintered the way of the other as Pin Missiles hailed down upon it, but shards of light fizzled to nothingness only on shimmering silk, the panel in the wall swinging ever so slightly and the sound of running footsteps muffled by thick walls.
In a hollow across the room, Janine just smiled slightly beneath the mask of her red scarf, recalling both her pokémon with shafts of red light to the pokéstars between her fingers.
He has potential.
Potential, but little experience. He’s not worthy. Yet.
She let him go.
Until he was ready, they wouldn’t meet again.
* * *
now that I think about it, this story really is about the Teams just as much as it is about Keegan; the difference is, in CaC their story is being told through Keegan's perspective, because hers is the main plot and theirs is the sub. In the sequel (yup, I said sequel!) the plot is going to revolve around the Teams, with Keegan swept along for the ride.
