silvokrent

[silvokrent]

Ennui - 3

ennui /ɒnˈwiː/ n. a gripping listlessness or melancholy caused by boredom; depression.

Anger did a lot to deaden a person to their surroundings. At least, that was Flint’s impression when he finally noticed where his pacing had taken him.

It said more about his current emotional state than he’d care to admit, that he’d wandered this way on reflex. His first impulse was to keep walking, let the fatigue gradually creep in until he no longer had the energy to feel.

Does this conversation have a point?

What are you doing here?

“The hell if I know,” Flint sighed, as he pushed open the door, and let himself in.

But he needed answers.

Personally, Flint had always liked the café, if for no other reason than how obnoxiously its rustic vibe clashed with the rest of Sunyshore’s aesthetic. The barrels and weathered floorboards wouldn’t have looked out of place somewhere pastoral—Solaceon came to mind—but the effect was jarring. He suspected the dissonance had been somewhat intentional.

The Houndoom lounging below the window barely reacted to Flint’s presence, beyond a cursory glance in his direction. Not all that surprising, given the gray streaks on his muzzle.

“It’s been a while, Dante.” The Houndoom dropped his chin back onto his paws, a cracked eye tracking Flint’s movements without any particular sense of urgency. “I don’t suppose your owner’s around?”

Dante yawned, and flicked his barbed tail in the direction of the kitchen.

Right on cue. The mahogany door swung on its hinges as a familiar figure stepped past, a stack of plates balanced (a bit precariously) in his arms. “We’re still eighty-six on the half-and-half,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Just toss the heavy cream and milk in a pitcher for now. We can update the inventory later—”

“I’ll take a coffee, when you have a second,” Flint said.

The Proprietor’s head whipped around.

Flint leaned against the bar counter. “Glad to see the hairline’s still receding, old man.”

“‘Old man.’” The Proprietor let out a huff, as he strode behind the bar and began shelving the dishes. “I’m sixty-two, not dead, you insolent punk. They haven’t buried me yet.”

“Give it time.”

They held each other’s gaze.

The Proprietor was the first to cave. His lip twitched, before widening into a grin. “It’s good to see you, Flint.”

“Same.”

“What was it you said, a coffee?” He ducked below the counter. The telltale clink of ceramic was followed by him resurfacing a moment later, a mug in hand. “I’ve got a pot brewing in the back. Let me guess, the usual?” He didn’t bother waiting for a response as he retreated toward the kitchen. “Give me a second. Sit, pull up a chair. You know the drill.”

Flint waited until he disappeared into the back, before his smile wavered. The stool creaked as he sank onto it. Without the fear of an audience, Flint capitulated, and buried his face in his arms.

He was almost tempted to ask that he substitute the coffee for something stronger. Almost.

“Sorry for the wait.” Only when the sandwich and chips were slid across the counter did Flint grudgingly resurface. A carafe was unceremoniously plunked next to it, before the Proprietor wove around the counter.

“I didn’t forget about you.” Dante hauled himself up onto his haunches as a plate was set in front of him. “The brisket’s already seared, so don’t get any ideas. I’m not wasting another fire extinguisher because you like your meat charred.”

The Houndoom made a low, gravelly noise of assent, as he pulled the plate closer with his paws. The second the Proprietor had his back turned, he dipped his head, and exhaled a small jet of flame.

“Now, since you’re here”—he circled back behind the bar, and retrieved the carafe—“I’d appreciate a favor.” Thick wisps of steam curled above the mug as he poured. “If you’re going to be loitering in my establishment, then you’re volunteering as a test subject. I need a second opinion before I add it to the menu.”

“Not sure if I should be flattered, or offended.” In spite of himself, Flint peered at the foam with some interest. “What’s this poison called?”

“Komala roast,” he said. His glasses were starting to fog. “It’s an Alolan import, though for the life of me I can’t remember which island it was harvested from.”

“Maybe it’s the one with the Komalas on it.”

He slid the drink in front of him. “Less talking, more drinking.”

Flint picked up the mug, and squinted at its contents. “Do you think they roast the Komalas while they’re still alive, or do they—”

“Drink, or I’m throwing you out.”

He decided not to call his bluff. With a shrug, Flint lifted it to his face, and cautiously took a sip.

The Proprietor watched him with connoisseurial scrutiny. “And?” he prompted.

“Mellow, but not in a bad way,” said Flint. “There’s a lingering sweetness to it, if that makes any sense.” He went to take another sip.

“That would be the low acidity.” The Proprietor relocated the carafe to the back shelf. “The coffee beans lose some of the bitterness when they’re fermented in their intestines.”

Flint spat the drink back into his cup.

He could hear the Proprietor still laughing as he coughed over the edge of the counter. “Why’d you think they call it Komala coffee?”

It took a few seconds to compose himself, before Flint pushed the offending beverage out of his vicinity. “You know, I think I would have preferred if you actually poisoned me.” He glowered. “You’re going to lose customers if you add that to the menu.”

“Never underestimate the consumer’s love for novelty.” From somewhere on his person, he’d produced a rag, and begun polishing a glass. “Besides, I have your personal testimony. Mellow with a lingering sweetness. Sounds like a good sales pitch, don’t you think?”

“Please don’t quote me on that.”

“Fine, fine. Rob me of business.” He exchanged the glass for a tumbler. “Speaking of which, what brings you to Sunyshore?”

Did the League send you? Or did you volunteer?

The basket liner crinkled as Flint picked at a chip. “Why is it,” he asked, without looking up, “that I’m only just now hearing about these blackouts?”

“Ah.” The tumbler let out a dull thud as it was placed on the counter, and set aside. “I wondered when you would catch wind of them.”

The Proprietor cleared his throat.

“The first outage was pretty minor, all things considered. It only knocked out the Gym and a couple of nearby buildings. No one complained since the damage was negligible, and we figured it was an accident. Second one was a bit more inconvenient—everything within sixteen blocks of the Gym lost power. Annoying, sure, but the engineers had it fixed in two hours, so why fuss?” He snorted. “You know what people around here are like—they worship Volkner.”

It wasn’t as if Volkner had his reputation for nothing, although Flint kept that comment to himself. “What about now?”

“Now I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s pissed off half the city. Their tolerance is evaporating, and I can’t say I blame them.” His lips thinned. “The last outage caused some of the perishables in my walk-in to go bad. The only reason I didn’t lose more is because I triaged what was left, and cooked it before it could spoil.”

Flint opened his mouth to—what, apologize on his friend’s behalf?—only to stop, when he began to toy with that loose strand of logic. “How the hell did you cook if you had no power?”

To which the Proprietor jerked a thumb toward the corner, where his Houndoom was still demolishing the (now burnt) brisket. “Dante’s fire easily tops six hundred and fifty degrees. He’s a furnace with legs.”

Dante snorted, as he tore off another strip.

“None of this is adding up,” Flint muttered, half to himself. “This isn’t like Volkner.” His brow furrowed, as he studied the wood grains in the counter. Looking for a pattern that wasn't there. “Has he said anything when he comes by? Anything that seemed off?”

“Flint.” The Proprietor braced his arms against the counter, and leaned forward. “Volkner hasn’t been here in weeks.”

Flint jerked up. “What?”

“You heard me.” There was an unmistakable frustration permeating his movements, as he returned to polishing the glassware. “Trying to get a hold of him has been like pulling teeth. I can’t just demand an audience with him at the Gym, and I work late hours as it is. I’ve tried calling, but—”

“He’s ignoring your calls,” Flint finished. If he’d had an appetite before, it was long gone.

The Proprietor’s cleaning lost some of its intensity. “Were you able to talk to him?”

“Briefly.” One of the privileges of his title, as a member of the Elite Four. One which Flint despised having to invoke. “Not that it was a productive conversation. He pretty much kicked me out.”

“Figures,” he said under his breath. “He’s avoiding us, you realize.”

He did. But it didn’t exactly assuage his concerns.

“This is ridiculous,” Flint said, when the gap in conversation began to stretch uncomfortably long. “First the blackouts, and now this? And his staff are on edge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that I walked in as they were about to stage a mutiny.”

To his surprise, the Proprietor scoffed. “Well, what did you expect? I’d be on edge too if my boss’s boss showed up at my job to inspect my workplace. Like it or not, you represent the League. They probably thought you were there to shut the place down for non-compliance, since the Gym hasn’t handed out a badge in over a month.”

A chill crept down his spine.

The stool protested as Flint sat back. “What do you mean,” he repeated, slowly, “that the Gym hasn’t been handing out badges?”

The Proprietor registered the shift in tone, and set the rag down, with a look of renewed consideration. “You didn’t hear?”

Flint shook his head.

“I don’t know all the details,” he began. “But word is, Volkner’s been destroying anyone that comes to fight him. I’ve had a few trainers swing by after their matches. It’s the same story, over and over.”

It was expected that some challengers wouldn’t succeed on their first try. But none?

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Flint said. “Is he not adjusting team line-ups between matches? He’s not pitting low-tier trainers against the roster he reserves for seventh- and eighth-badge fights, is he? Why would—”

The Proprietor held up his hands. “Like I said, I don’t know the details. That’s just what I’ve heard from gossip.”

Flint was quiet for a moment. “What else have you heard?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to verify it,” the Proprietor said, “but some folks have said that Volkner’s been hanging out at the lighthouse in his downtime. Apparently, he’s been going there to brood.”

Flint scowled. “Volkner doesn’t brood.”

The Proprietor silently peered over the rim of his shades, and Flint fought the impulse to shift under his stare. He wondered, a little distantly, if he hadn’t made that comment specifically to gauge how he would react.

The chair legs scraped over the floorboards, as Flint stood. “Thanks for lunch.”

While unsurprised, the Proprietor did frown in disapproval. “You didn’t even touch your food.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said. “Just give it to Dante or something.”

At the sound of his name, Dante looked up from the bone he’d been gnawing on. He didn’t appear to object to the idea.

“What do I owe you for lunch?” he asked.

At that, the Proprietor barked a laugh. “Flint, you haven’t paid for so much as a ketchup packet in fifteen years. Don’t insult me by asking now.” He waved the question aside. “It’s on the house.”

Flint smiled, a bit humorlessly. “Thanks.”

The bell above the door chimed as it closed behind him.

Late afternoon sunlight gilded the boats and rocky spurs that jutted from the harbor. The view from the elevator had always been impressive, regardless of the time of day.

As the lift ascended, Flint found himself wishing he could have enjoyed it.

When he dismounted, he was relieved to find the gallery room empty. At least he wouldn’t have an audience for what was about to come.

The door slid on its tracks as Flint pushed it aside, and stepped out onto the deck.

The Proprietor’s sources weren’t mistaken, as much as Flint would have preferred otherwise. Volkner was leaning into the railing, his back turned. Either he didn’t notice—or more likely, didn’t care about—the intrusion. Flint cycled through several false starts as he approached, debating which would be the most effective—

Until he caught Volkner’s face.

“Since when do you smoke?” Volkner tilted his head at the question, enough to watch him out of his periphery. He didn’t answer, though. The smoke that billowed up around his face didn’t have time to linger, before the wind dispersed it.

Flint frowned. “I thought you hated those things.”

The tip glowed, and Volkner exhaled.

He folded his arms over his chest. “How did the two o’clock match go?” he asked instead.

Volkner shrugged. “Dull.”

“Out of curiosity”—the metal bar dug into his shoulder as Flint reclined against it, one hand loosely braced for support—“did you deny this trainer a badge, too?”

“I can’t deny a person something that they didn’t earn.” He tapped the cigarette against the railing. “They lost.”

“To you?” Flint asked. “Or to your Electivire?”

It was subtle, but Flint didn’t miss the way his shoulders tensed. “To my mid-level team,” he answered. “I’m not gatekeeping my Gym badge, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“But you expect me to believe that every challenger, regardless of their badge count, keeps losing to you?”

The cigarette was becoming pinched in the middle where Volkner was holding it. “There’s nothing I can do about mediocre trainers. If you’re disappointed by the prospect of no League challengers next season, then get used to it.” He took a drag, and sighed. “I did.”

The stunned silence didn’t last long. His knuckles began to ache as Flint’s grip on the railing tightened. “I’m not disappointed by inadequate trainers.” He pushed away from it—and this time, Volkner watched. “I’m disappointed by you.”

Volkner’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you have any idea what kind of damage you could’ve caused?” Flint jabbed a finger at the harbor. “This lighthouse we’re standing in? It’s the only thing that keeps ships from hitting those rocks down there, and because of you, it didn’t work. You don’t get the right to endanger people just because you’re bored and don’t want to do your job!”

“I am doing my job!” The venom caught Flint off-guard. “I’ve been doing it. For years, in fact, meeting every fucking expectation the League ever had for me. If you have an issue with how I run my Gym, Flint—”

Volkner closed the distance between them.

“—then do something about it.”

He blew a cloud of smoke in his face.

The adrenaline hit a second before Flint’s thoughts caught up to him. Volkner grunted as Flint slammed him against the lighthouse wall, a hand fisted in his shirt collar.

The other man didn’t struggle. If anything, the hand that had reflexively grabbed his own wrist slackened. Volkner winced, but managed to meet Flint’s eyes. The anger in them was gone, as if it had never been there.

“If you’re going to hit me,” he said, quietly, “then get it over with.”

Volkner dropped like a dead weight as Flint released him.

He didn’t stop to check if he was okay. Flint spun on his heel, and left, not once looking back.

#pokemon #pokemon fics #ennui #volkner #flint #ignitionshipping #my posts #i speak #pokemon thought dump #i highly encourage everyone to go check out the wikipedia page on kopi luwak after reading this

[silvokrent]

Ennui - 2

ennui /ɒnˈwiː/ n. a gripping listlessness or melancholy caused by boredom; depression.

Somewhere overhead, a Wingull cried.

Flocks of the small white birds circled above, visible in the gaps of sky that Flint could glimpse from below the walkways.

He would have denied the accusation, once, but Flint suspected that he was becoming sentimental. Not that he couldn’t appreciate the rest of Sinnoh’s beaches—all glittering water and long, uninterrupted stretches of sand—but Sunyshore’s geography really was a sight unparalleled. The tidepools and stark, jagged rocks that dominated the southeastern coasts were rather breathtaking.

Bone-breaking, too. Flint paused to watch as another wave slammed into the cliffs, sending up a spray of brine.

The area was signposted, although that did little to deter the locals from training here. The hospital and Pokémon Center were something of a revolving door for the idiots that persisted.

Flint still had the scars to prove it.

Another patch of shadow fell over him as he passed under the skywalk. The bulk of the foot traffic was confined to the actual modules, since the infrastructure was nearly as much of a tourist attraction as the lighthouse and markets were. Any other time, he would have taken the paths on the upper level.

Flint lingered under the bridge, waiting until the group above him passed, before he resumed.

Avoiding crowds was something of a necessity this time around. Regrettably, his presence also counted as a tourist attraction, and anonymity was hard to come by.

Not that he was complaining, but…

As Flint neared one of the support columns, he came to a stop.

…he had a job to do.

The technicians repairing the module hadn’t noticed him yet. They were preoccupied with installing the new panel into the frame, as a Machoke steadied it for them. Another crew member was doing something with the inverter mounted to the column—rewiring, by the looks of it. Flint had never been tech savvy, and he wasn’t about to start pretending now.

It would have been an otherwise mundane sight, if he didn’t have context for it.

“Routine maintenance?” The technician glanced up as Flint approached.

“I wish.” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’d be easier if we gutted it and just replaced the whole thing, but management wants us to try and salvage it first.”

“How bad is the damage?”

The technician scowled at the inverter. “Bad enough that I’m going to be at this for the next five hours.”

Flint leaned against the column. “The solar grid can’t handle a blackout?” he asked.

“It can. There are redundancies in place for that sort of thing.” The technician popped open another panel, and peered at the cables running through it. “But repeated stress wears the entire system down. It wasn’t built with consecutive power failures in mind.”

“‘Consecutive’?” Flint straightened. “I thought it was just one outage.”

“You must be from outta town.” The technician didn’t bother looking his way. “That’s the third blackout this month.”

Flint would have been lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, as he stood before the Gym doors.

Outwardly, the building looked no different than it did since his last visit. Nothing to suggest that it had been the culprit behind the power failure.

One of several power failures, apparently.

Not for the first time, he would have appreciated a hint. Something, at least, to help make sense of what he was walking into. The better part of his flight yesterday had been spent perseverating over a reason, and after nine hours, he’d ruled out everything practical. Flint finally gave up around the time sleep deprivation was starting to kick in, and he’d begun entertaining the idea of elaborate Rube Goldberg machines, or enthusiastic raves.

Flint sighed.

He was stalling, and he knew it.

With little enthusiasm, he moved past the sliding doors, and stepped inside.

His first, incorrect impression—as the doors shut behind him, and he froze on the lobby threshold—was that he’d entered the wrong building.

It was still, for all intents and purposes, a Gym. But not one he recognized. The reception area looked like it had been given a recent facelift. “Expensive-looking” was the first thought that came to mind, but “upgraded” was probably more accurate.

Volkner’s handiwork, no doubt.

The receptionist glanced up from the monitor as he neared the desk. “Good afternoon, and welcome to the Sunyshore Gym.”

“Afternoon.” Flint inclined his head. “I’m here to see Leader Volkner.”

“Do you have an appointment scheduled with him today?”

“Last-second visit, I’m afraid.”

The receptionist furrowed her brow. “I’m very sorry, sir, but any meetings or battles with the Gym leader are through prior booking.”

New hire, if Flint had to assume. Usually his reputation preceded him with most Gym crowds.

“That won’t be a problem.” He reached into his back pocket, and held out his license. The receptionist accepted it with an expression that looked no less skeptical than it had a second ago. “I try not to drop in unannounced, but it’s a long flight between here and the League.”

The words registered at the same time she read the name printed on the card. Her eyes widened a fraction, before darting back up to him.

He smiled, not without a hint of amusement. “Any chance I could have a chat with him?”

Strangely, the request seemed to put her on edge. She returned his license, but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Of course.” She stepped out from behind the desk. “If you’ll follow me…”

It wasn’t a particularly long walk, but it was informative. The overall layout of the building was still familiar, but as Flint was lead down the hall, he spotted more evidence of renovations. Machinery, for the most part. A classroom with its door ajar held something that resembled a scaled-down version of a PC terminal. Elsewhere, they passed a room which emitted a soft, ambient hum.

If the change in scenery was unsettling, it paled next to the reception from the Gym staff. Flint recognized a handful of the resident trainers, though when he waved, they didn’t return the gesture. The tension was palpable, and it followed in his wake.

He wasn’t left with much time to dwell on that particular development, before the receptionist halted at the end of the corridor.

“He’s in here.” Again, she refused to look his way. “I’ll be at the front desk if you need anything.”

“It’s appreciated.”

The receptionist hesitated. She opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something else, before clearly deciding against it. Her footsteps echoed as she hurried back toward the reception area.

Well. No point in waiting.

Gingerly, he turned the handle, and let himself in.

It was a space that Flint was acquainted with, though—judging by the scattered tools—it looked like it had seen an uptick in recent use. Volkner’s workshop was something of a glorified janitor’s closet that he had commandeered shortly after his promotion to leader. No one had ever protested, since his side hobbies generally benefitted the Gym.

Though going by his staff’s newfound jumpiness, Flint wondered if that hadn’t changed.

It took a second to actually spot Volkner. Half of Volkner, technically. His torso was obscured beneath a rather menacing-looking generator.

“Jordan, pass me the solder.” His Raichu pawed through the toolkit as a burst of orange light illuminated the underside. “The silver-tin alloy, not the zinc.”

His pronged tail flicked in response.

Jordan emerged with the spool clutched in his paws. He went to hand it off to his trainer, only to freeze when he caught sight of Flint.

His eyes lit up, and his back legs braced.

With a muffled grunt Flint managed to catch him, before he could properly tackle him to the floor. The Raichu let out a soft, pleased noise as he tried to burrow his face into his shoulder.

At least someone was happy to see him.

Careful not to dislodge him (it was cute and all, but Jordan wasn’t a thirteen-pound Pikachu anymore), Flint plucked the solder from his hand, and crouched next to the generator. Evidently none the wiser, Volkner took the spool when Flint held it out.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Flint.

There was a satisfying bang as Volkner smacked his head.

Something scuffed against the floor tile. Flint moved out of the way as the wheeled platform rolled back, and Volkner surfaced from underneath. He was sans his signature jacket and down to the black, sleeveless undershirt. It was impossible to make out his face beneath the welding mask, though by the way he scrubbed at his forehead, Flint could take a guess.

“Flint?” Volkner set the blowtorch down next to him. “What are you doing here?”

He rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you, too.”

Flint didn’t miss the huff under his breath. His hands skated up the back of his neck, as he undid the clasps, and slid the visor from his face.

If Flint felt tired, then Volkner looked exhausted.

There was a dark, discolored quality to his face, not helped in the least by how much thinner it was. His expression wavered between several different emotions—they passed too quickly for Flint to accurately gauge them—before settling on impassive.

Jordan squirmed in his arms, and Flint obligingly lowered him to the ground. He shoved his now-vacant hands in his pockets. “I see you’ve been redecorating.”

Volkner didn’t comment. Merely watched him through half-lidded eyes.

Flint nodded to the generator behind him. “Something extremely dangerous, I hope?”

That managed to elicit a reaction from him (even if it was mild exasperation). Volkner shucked off his welding gloves on a nearby cart, and stood. “Close,” he said. “It’s a docking station, of sorts. The prototype, at any rate.”

“What's it supposed to charge?”

“Electric-types.” Jordan’s ears folded back as Volkner rested a hand on his head, and lightly scratched. “Most species that are electrogenic aren’t actually immune to incoming charges. Only a handful of Pokémon can safely absorb them—Jolteon, Electivire…” He frowned. “I was trying to figure out how to replicate the effect, so it could be applied to other species. It could have possible electrotherapeutic benefits, too, but…” Volkner combed a hand through his hair. “Repairing this is going to take a while. It got fried during the power outage.”

“So I heard,” Flint said.

Volkner stiffened.

“I also heard that you were responsible for them. All three of them.” Some of the anger crept back into his voice, as Flint’s stare hardened. “You mind telling me what that’s about?”

Volkner seemed to be struggling for an immediate response. Eventually, his jaw snapped shut, and he bent to retrieve his tools. “I take it this isn’t a social visit.”

“Would you actually care if it was?” Flint asked. “I’d find that hard to believe, since you haven’t answered your damn phone in weeks.”

Jordan dutifully pitched in and began returning equipment to its rightful place. Volkner didn’t lift his head, as he continued to reorganize the toolkit. “Did the League send you? Or did you volunteer?”

It might have sounded accusatory, were it not for the flat tone.

“That’s not the point.” Flint watched as Volkner inspected a wire brush, and thumbed over the bristles. Flakes of rust drifted to the floor. He made a displeased sound in the back of his throat, before placing it in the container. “Your Gym knocked out the entire network.”

There was a subtle shift in his posture; a tightness that coiled in his spine. “That wasn’t intentional.”

“I’m sure that’s a real comfort to everyone who lost power.”

Volkner had the audacity to shrug.

An unpleasant burning sensation lodged itself firmly in his gut. Flint pressed a palm to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing it to subside. The accompanying exhale didn’t help much. “If it were a one-off thing,” he muttered, “fine. But after a certain point, you must have realized there was a correlation. And that maybe it was time to call it quits.” Flint narrowed his eyes. “Since when are you this careless?”

Pride had always been one of Volkner’s touchier subjects. At minimum, Flint expected that comment to annoy him.

Volkner didn’t even react.

There was a chisel near his foot. Jordan went to reach for it, only to skitter backward as Flint stepped on it with his sandal. He scooped up the errant tool, inspecting it. “Is any of this actually necessary?” he asked.

His hands slowed. “…It’s useful,” he conceded.

“More useful than a working solar grid?”

Volkner’s reply was blunt. “Does this conversation have a point?”

Flint’s fingers dug into the chisel. He was half tempted to throw it at him. “You tell me.”

The floorspace had been marshaled back into some semblance of order. Nearly, anyway, Volkner was just now realizing, as he scanned the toolkit, and then the surrounding tiles. At last he glanced back over his shoulder, only to blink at the chisel still in Flint’s grip.

He stood, and held out a hand.

Flint absently continued to study it. “Improvements are nice and all, but they shouldn’t be coming at the expense of everything else. Surely, there’s a better way for you to be doing this.” He arched a brow, with an air of deliberate nonchalance. “Though for the life of me, I can’t figure out where you’re finding the free time to be doing all of these projects. You’d think being Gym leader would keep you busy.”

The silence was deafening.

A sudden, nagging suspicion began to creep in. Flint met his gaze, searching. “Volkner,” he said. “When was the last time you—”

“Excuse me? Volkner?”

The receptionist stood in the doorway, a clipboard tucked under her arm. Every word looked like it was being forcibly dragged out of her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but—you have a battle scheduled with a challenger at three o’clock. You need to start getting ready.”

Volkner shut his eyes. “Did they clear their preliminary match?”

“They’re currently getting set up. Preston should be finished shortly.”

“Fine.” Volkner sighed. Though he directed his words at her, his eyes never once left Flint. “We’re done here, anyway. Have them meet me in the main arena in fifteen minutes.”

“Of course.”

The receptionist fled as quickly as professionalism would allow.

Volkner didn’t budge. He continued to regard Flint expectantly, the hand still hovering between them. His eyes narrowed.

With slightly more force than necessary, Flint slapped the chisel into his palm.

Volkner tossed it over his shoulder into the open toolkit, and left without another word.

Jordan started to bound after him, only to stop, and hover in the doorway. The Raichu’s tail curled around his back legs as his head sank between his shoulders. He fixed Flint with wet, black eyes, before—rather dejectedly—following on the heels of his trainer.

It took a minute before he finally forced himself to move. Stiffly, Flint exited the room, and headed back toward the lobby.

It was the first time he’d ever seen resignation on Volkner’s face.

#pokemon #pokemon fics #ennui #volkner #flint #ignitionshipping #my posts #i speak #pokemon thought dump #in case it wasn't obvious: volkner's gym upgrades aren't a labyrinth of OSHA violations

[silvokrent]

Ennui - 1

ennui /ɒnˈwiː/ n. a gripping listlessness or melancholy caused by boredom; depression.

“You wanted to see me?”

Lily of the Valley Island wasn’t a secluded place by any means. Even in the lull between tournament seasons, the city was regularly inundated by locals and tourists. Not to the same claustrophobic degree as the actual competition, but enough that the more paranoid folks tended to keep a close eye on their wallet, lest it vanish amidst a crowd.

Of course, that could have been Flint’s childhood bias talking. The instinctive wariness of pickpockets had never quite faded with age.

Cynthia didn’t acknowledge him as he approached, though at the question, she redirected her gaze from the escarpment below. Dense swaths of foliage lined the cliffs where they descended toward the city, and beyond, the bleach-white sand. If Flint squinted, he could just barely make out the shapes of people and Pokémon milling about the streets.

“I did.” She waited until Flint moved to her side before she continued: “I’m sorry for the abruptness. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”

Flint shrugged. “A spar with Aaron, but that can be rescheduled.” It might have been less inconvenient if she had requested they meet in her office, rather than some remote trail an hour’s hike from the city. But tact (and the knowledge that she signed his paychecks) waylaid that particular comment. Flint settled on a more diplomatic reply. “I don’t mind. It’s a nice day.”

There was a look in Cynthia’s eyes, a shrewdness he was a bit too familiar with. “It is a nice day,” she agreed, in a vague, pleasant sort of tone. A pause, before she gestured with her hand. “Would you take a walk with me?”

Flint recognized the invitation for the tacit order that it was; one which he was smart enough not to decline. “As you like.”

Cynthia’s smile widened a fraction. Her hair fanned out behind her as she turned and set off down the footpath at an easy stroll, not waiting to see if he’d follow. Flint did, of course, falling in step beside her a moment later.

The humidity was oppressive. Not that Flint was particularly bothered by it—heat was sort of an occupational hazard when you trained Fire-types—but he could feel the combined weight of heat and water vapor starting to seep into his collar. If Cynthia minded, it didn’t show on her face. The gradual downturn of her lips, as she studied the path with a faraway expression—that he did notice.

Curiosity was beginning to overtake his sense of apprehension. Flint fisted his hands in his pockets, and let out a low whoosh of air. “So. What is it that you don’t want anyone to overhear?”

The smile briefly flickered across her face, if a little subdued. “I am sorry for the inconvenience,” she said, at last. “I wouldn’t waste your time on something that wasn’t important.”

“Figured. Wouldn’t call this a waste of my time, either.” Flint rolled his shoulder. “Off-the-books isn’t usually your style.”

Cynthia regarded him out of her periphery. “Under normal circumstances, no. But I’d prefer to handle this informally, not through official channels.”

Flint suppressed a snort. “Less paperwork to file?”

Cynthia’s pace slowed. “Less a chance of damaging someone’s career,” she murmured.

He raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“It’s a little sudden,” she said, as she brushed a strand of hair from her face, “but I’d like you to conduct an investigation for me, regarding one of the Gyms. Ideally within the next day or two, but the sooner you’re able to depart, the better.”

That piqued his interest.

“Not that I’m objecting”—not that Flint really could; contractual obligations and such—“but isn’t that the sort of thing you usually send Lucian to handle?”

Cynthia lapsed into momentary silence. He got the impression that she was choosing her words rather carefully. “And if I sent Lucian, he would handle the matter as he usually does, would he not?”

Flint winced. “Right,” he muttered. “Off-the-books.”

Cynthia nodded. “Right now, I need discretion.” Her eyes slid shut. “Not that I would blame Lucian, given the circumstances.”

Cryptic wasn’t really her style, either, and it was starting to chafe his patience.

“If things were different,” Cynthia continued, very pointedly cutting him across before he could interrupt, “I would go myself. But I think your presence is needed over mine.”

“Can I at least know where you’re sending me?” Flint asked.

Abruptly, Cynthia stopped and turned to face him. She held his gaze, unbothered by the glare he leveled at her.

“Sunyshore,” she said.

The reply shocked him into silence.

It took longer than Flint would’ve liked to remember how to string words together. When he finally did, they were halting. “Is something wrong with Volkner?”

By way of explanation, Cynthia reached into the folds of her black coat. “Two days ago, there was a massive city-wide blackout. As I understand it, the overload not only took out the grid, but it disabled the city’s backup generator. It took six hours for the engineers to get it under control.” Flint was unresisting as she passed him the tablet, and his eyes darted over the screen. Assessment of PV System Activity. “When they eventually isolated the source, it was the Sunyshore Gym. Since then, twelve different residents have filed complaints with the League.”

—due to sudden, significant drop in voltage. Electric-type Pokémon were temporarily dispatched to supplement power to critical systems, until tie-line with another network was established—

Reluctantly, Flint pulled his attention away from the report. “How many people in the League know about this?”

“Two.” Cynthia folded her arms behind her back. “And both of them are standing right here.”

His frown deepened. “How has the committee not found out?”

“I was able to intercept the complaints. For now, I’d like to keep it that way. As for your other question…” Cynthia sighed. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Only when his fingers started to hurt did Flint register his grip on the tablet. He glanced back down at the screen, as if it could somehow provide him the clarity he lacked. “Why would his Gym be draining that much power?”

“That’s what I'd like you to find out.” The sea breeze whipped her hair as she faced the cliffside. “Sunyshore supplies electricity to every city east of Mount Coronet. If another outage like this happens, half the region could go dark.” She studied him out of the corner of her eye. “When was the last time you spoke to Volkner?”

She had an uncanny talent for making someone feel like she was dissecting them with her gaze. If nothing else, it made him all the more vividly aware of the shirt now sticking to his back. “Four months ago, give or take. I was visiting some family back home, and we decided to catch up. Grab lunch.”

Cynthia made a noncommittal noise. “Nothing seemed out of the ordinary?”

“Not that I could tell,” he admitted. If she was disappointed by that answer, she gave no indication of it. “He hasn’t returned any of my calls recently, but I chalked that up to him being busy.”

A deep, uncomfortable silence descended between them.

“Volkner has held his position for years,” Cynthia said, almost to herself. “Nearly a decade without an incident. If I hadn’t read the report with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

It was irrational, and Flint knew she would never, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that Cynthia was somehow blaming him for whatever this was. A small, mutinous part of him wondered if he wasn’t projecting.

His jaw tightened, as he forced out a breath that did nothing to put him at ease. “What do you need me to do?”

“Talk to him. Find out why this happened.” Her eyes narrowed against the wind. “Incidents like this are seldom accidents. Nor are they isolated. This can’t become a pattern.”

Flint gave a sharp nod.

“I can keep this hushed for now, but not indefinitely. The committee will eventually notice if there are more severe outages. More complaints. They won’t take kindly to a trainer—let alone a member of the League—causing damage on this scale.” She turned the full weight of her stare onto him. “You understand what I’m saying, Flint.”

License revocation.

Flint tried not to dwell on the unpleasant thoughts those words conjured. “I do.”

“Good.” She accepted the tablet as he handed it back to her. “Since this is rather time sensitive, I’d like you to leave as soon as you can. Flying would be the fastest option. You’re welcome to borrow my Togekiss.”

“Give me an hour to pack, and I’ll take you up on it.” He went to move away, only to still when Cynthia rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you’re upset.” Her expression softened. “And I know he’s your friend. Keep me posted, and I’ll do what I can.”

Several different things occurred to him that he could say, none of them remotely helpful or reassuring.

When words eventually failed him, Flint shut his jaw with an audible click of teeth. The best he could manage was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as he politely extricated himself from her touch. Not waiting to see her reaction, he turned on his heel and started to backtrack as quickly as the uneven terrain would allow.

You understand what I’m saying.

He didn’t. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

#pokemon #pokemon fics #ennui #flint #volkner #cynthia #buck #ignitionshipping #my posts #i speak #i've been replaying pokemon platinum recently #and when i got to sunyshore my first reaction was how the FUCK did i miss the gay subtext as a kid #anyway this is my take on the in-game events (with a small amount of overlap with the anime) #(and some artistic liberty) #in which flint actually has to do his job #and volkner's actions have consequences #pokemon thought dump #as always my fics are available on AO3 too

[silvokrent]

The second chapter for my Pokémon fic, The Pursuit of Knowledge, is now done and can be found here on AO3. I likely won’t post it to this blog because the chapter uses a specific work skin that I don’t think is compatible with Tumblr’s formatting.

If you enjoyed reading about overly-technical pseudoscientific speculative biology the first time, then come check it out. (Featuring: Sycamore’s attempt at making sense of Fairy-types.)

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #speculative biology #realistic pokemon #the pursuit of knowledge #pokemon fics #my posts #i speak #professor sycamore #fairy type

[silvokrent]

@fandomsandfeminism Today while I was at work I stumbled across this little eastern garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis). It was polite enough to tolerate my presence and let me take a few photos.

And then, it fucking lifted the front half of its body off the ground and WIGGLED AT ME. And I honestly have no idea what to make of this behavior. Since you’re the only person I know who has experience with snakes, perhaps you might be able to tell me what this means?

#video #my posts #i speak #snakes #eastern garter snake #i thought that the behavior was more inquisitive than anything else #but i really don't know much about squamates in general #a very good noodle

[silvokrent]

Presentation from guest speaker Prof. Rowan, held at the Jubilife Conference: “Redefining Evolution through the Lens of Obligate Symbiosis.”

The current paradigm for evolution, defined as a sudden, radical metamorphosis of a Pokémon’s physiology, has sufficed for many years, although it’s hardly gone uncontested. It’s a contentious subject amongst researchers—no doubt, I speak from personal experience—largely due to its complexity, and our inability to neatly articulate it.

One such topic is that of multi-constituent evolution, wherein two or more individuals simultaneously engage in the process. Our understanding of evolution acting upon a single Pokémon is muddied somewhat when we’re forced to define what counts as a “single” Pokémon. In cases such as these, the definition becomes rather vague.

Presently, there are two recognized categories of multi-constituent evolution: conspecific and heterospecific. For those that might need a refresher, conspecific is defined as an evolution where two or more Pokémon of the same lineage evolve together into a superorganism. Notable examples of this include the Beldum line, which culminates in Metagross, a Pokémon formed from two of its mid-stage evolution, Metang. The other category, heterospecific, is disproportionately rarer, as it involves two different species collaboratively evolving together.

I’m sure you don’t need to guess what Pokémon I’m referring to—it’s written on the pamphlet, after all—and its infamy certainly goes without saying.

Slowbro. A rather unassuming creature at a cursory glance, yet its existence challenges our fundamental understanding of evolution. For decades, it’s been argued that the Pokémon evolving into Slowbro is its precursor, Slowpoke, and that the Shellder merely induces the process, either by acting as a counterweight, or through the analgesic enzymes found in its venom. The counterargument—as proposed by some of our audience members in attendance today—is that “Slowbro” is a misnomer. Instead, Shellder is the Pokémon primarily evolving, as evidenced by the change of its shell from a bivalve-morph to a gastropod-morph. The catalyst for Shellder’s evolution, in this scenario, would be the exudate secreted from the Slowpoke’s caudal glands.

Both theories hold merit. The only issue with them is that they emphasize the evolution of one species over the other—Shellder or Slowpoke. Neither considers the potentially obligate nature of their shared symbiosis, only the ways in which they superficially impact the other.

My proposition is that the evolution of Slowbro represents a holobiont—a superorganism composed of two distinct species whose synergistic interactions cannot be separated.

The primary argument against this theory is devolution—the hypothetical scenario in which the removal of the Shellder would force its host to “revert back” to a Slowpoke stage. At present, this remains purely conjectural, as no instances have been documented in the wild, nor artificially induced in a laboratory setting. Outside of the temporary phenomenon known as “Mega Evolution,” no Pokémon has ever been witnessed regressing to an earlier stage in its evolutionary lineage.

In addition to there being no substantiated evidence to back this claim, it hinges on a flawed supposition—that the Slowpoke partner can return to its default state, while ignoring the anatomical changes induced by evolution.

X-rays of the Slowbro’s skeleton show that it becomes adapted to a new form of ambulatory movement: bipedalism. Its hind feet become plantigrade, with a well-defined heel for energy conservation during locomotion. Similarly, the enlarged knees make it possible for the legs to support its weight under gravity. The lumbar and thoracic curvature of the vertebral column—absent in the pre-evolution—allow for the body’s center of gravity to be brought directly over the feet.

None of these anatomical changes to the Slowpoke would disappear in the absence of the partner Shellder, making a reversion to a quadrupedal gait impossible. I should also point out that the existence of the Galarian Slowbro—whose partner Shellder is clamped to the forearm—belies the argument that the Shellder is merely a counterweight on the tail.

I feel it’s worth mentioning that evolution doesn’t just induce an anatomical shift in Slowpoke, but a behavioral one as well. Without the ability to fish for prey, Slowbro becomes reliant on active pursuit swimming, and, even more importantly, a wider repertoire of Psychic-type moves. There is a direct correlation between the Shellder’s venom and Slowbro’s increased proficiency in using Psychic-type attacks. This suggests that not only does the Slowpoke benefit from this arrangement, but the mutualism is obligate.

The same can be said for its Shellder partner, which becomes permanently sessile post-evolution. In exchange for amplifying its host’s Psychic potential, it is allowed to feed on the scraps of its meals. This not only eliminates the need for Shellder to passively hunt, but it gains an additional form of protection from its host.

If Slowpoke and Shellder are capable of independently surviving, you might wonder, then why would either species choose to evolve together? One possibility is that evolution reduces competition amongst Slowpoke, Shellder, and Cloyster populations through resource partitioning. Active predation, as opposed to passively luring in prey, has the potential to offset competition. Its natatorial locomotion gives Slowbro access to fast-moving fish that were previously excluded from its diet, such as Basculin, Remoraid, and Bruxish. Both initial and replication studies have substantiated this fact. One such paper by Professor Westwood, of the Seafoam Institute, looked at the stomach contents of both Slowpoke and Slowbro where they occurred sympatrically. Gastric analysis revealed only a 10% overlap of prey species in their diets.

We can clearly measure and observe the benefits of this partnership, and why it has persisted to the present day. The more elusive question, though, is how this symbiosis came about.

And for that, we must turn to Slowpoke’s hunting strategy: fishing.

Here we verge into the realm of conjecture. While anatomical structures are well-preserved in the fossil record, evidence of behavior is harder to find. (The paleoethologists in the room have my sympathy.) That being said, trace fossils have been discovered over the years—enough to speculate on the origins of this behavior.

Fishing, as it’s widely theorized, is an exaptation of autotomy, or self-amputation. Much like its descendant, the ancestor of the Kanto Slowpoke is thought to have been rather sedentary and lethargic, due to its slower metabolism. When pinned by a predator, it could discard its tail as a decoy, and flee to safety. Over the course of the following weeks, the ancestral Slowpoke would regrow the missing appendage through epimorphic regeneration.

This was the point at which researchers were stumped, if you’ll forgive the pun. Then, thirty years ago, amateur fossil collectors in Azalea Town unearthed something quite extraordinary: coprolites from ancient fish Pokémon. With the remains of caudal vertebrae from a Slowpoke.

It is here we draw our conclusions. At a certain point in time, the ability to shed and regrow its tail became useful as a fishing line. The caudal gland—previously used for marking its territory, and attracting potential mates—was modified to lure in aquatic prey. From there, Shellder soon began to clamp down on Slowpoke’s tail, using its analgesic venom to prevent the Slowpoke from being alerted to its presence. Over the course of thousands of years, this interaction triggered the joint evolution of a new Pokémon—Slowbro.

A creature derived from two different species, whose existence cannot be neatly separated into its constituents.

Of course, further research still needs to be done to determine the catalyst for evolution into Slowbro—venom, exudate, or a combination of factors.

Perhaps, in a few years’ time, we’ll have a new controversy to talk about.

That concludes this presentation. I’d now like to open up the floor to questions from the audience.

Since there seems to be an interest for this sort of thing, I went and finished the excerpt that I initially wrote for this post. I’m also happy to announce that this is going to be the first in a series called The Pursuit of Knowledge, a series of epistolary works written from the perspective of each professor.

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #speculative biology #realistic pokemon #the pursuit of knowledge #pokemon fics #slowpoke #shellder #slowbro #my posts #i speak #professor rowan

[silvokrent]

Status Condition

Effect

With the introduction of Sound-types, a new volatile condition was added to complement it: Deafened.

Deafened (DFN) is a temporary effect that wears off when a Pokémon is switched out of battle, or the battle ends. It can best be described as the sensation one gets when a gunshot goes off in the immediate vicinity and a person doesn’t have hearing protection. As a result, the person becomes disoriented, and might experience a loud ringing in their ears.

Pokémon affected by the deafened condition behave similarly to Pokémon that are paralyzed. Every turn, the Pokémon has a 25% chance of being unable to use a move. The effect lasts for a random 2 to 5 turns.

Causes

(See the list of moves at the top of the post.)

Certain bomb and bullet moves have been retconned to induce the deafened condition, based on the premise of real-world firearms and artillery having the same effect. Drill moves were similarly retconned due to certain high-decibel drills having the capacity to inflict hearing loss.

At close proximity to the source, the sound pressure level of thunder can reach 165 – 180 dB. To reflect this, the move Thunder was given the ability to inflict deafening on a target.

Two additional moves (that aren’t Sound-type) were created to increase the number of attacks that can inflict this status condition.

Head Strike — The user lands a blow on the target’s head. Has a high chance of deafening the target.

Submerge — The user drags the opponent underwater and holds them there. This may also deafen the target.

The attack Head Strike was based on cuffing/boxing a person’s ears, which carries the possibility of deafening a person when done repeatedly. The attack Submerge was based on a condition called otitis externa, when water gets trapped in the ear canal.

Curing

The only item that specifically heals deafening is a Limba Berry. (The Limba Berry’s name is a shortening of kalimba, a musical instrument (mbira) traditionally made from bamboo or gourds.)

Like all other status conditions, it can be cured by the items Full Heal, Full Restore, Rage Candy Bar, Lava Cookie, Old Gateau, Casteliacone, Lumiose Galette, Shalour Sable, Big Malasada, Heal Powder, Lum Berry, and Pewter Crunchies.

Pokémon with Natural Cure will be healed upon switching out, and Pokémon with Healer have a ⅓ chance of curing their allies.

Prevention

Sound-type Pokémon cannot be deafened.

Pokémon with the Soundproof and Own Tempo Abilities are completely immune to being deafened.

The moves Safeguard and Misty Terrain (for grounded Pokémon) will protect the party from status conditions for five turns. A Pokémon behind a substitute cannot be deafened.

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #my posts #i speak #sound type #sound type battle properties #sound type status condition

[silvokrent]

An explanation for the type matchups can be found under the readmore.

Sound travels fastest through solids, less fast through liquids, and slowest through gases. This has to do with how closely particles of matter are packed together. Greater proximity to each other means that they can transmit waves more effectively.

In this scenario, Rock, Ground, Steel, and Ice represent the “most solid” types, and therefore receive the most damage due to their susceptibility.

Meanwhile, Fire, Electric, Flying, and Ghost are analogous to gases in this scenario. (Technically, electricity and fire are plasma, which for the sake of simplicity, I lumped in with air since plasma is just a highly-ionized gas.) Flying-type is a stand-in for wind/air, whereas Ghost can best be qualified as “sentient vapor particles.”

All other types (Water, Normal, Grass, Fighting, Poison, Psychic, Bug, Dragon, Dark, and Fairy) get treated as “liquids” by virtue of neither being strongly correlated with either solids or gases.

The choice to make Sound resist Sound has nothing to do with physics. Rather, I like to use the scenario of a crowded cafeteria. Imagine trying to have a conversation with the person sitting across from you, while simultaneously competing with the hundreds of other conversations going on in the immediate vicinity. The person across from you keeps asking you to speak up, to repeat yourself, to no avail.

No matter how hard you try, you’re not going to make yourself heard with all of the other voices drowning yours out. That’s how Sound-type works, essentially.

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #my posts #i speak #sound type #sound type battle properties #sound type matchup

[silvokrent]

A description of each Pokémon can be found under the readmore.

Syntheon, as the name implies, is a Sound-type Eevee evolution. It evolves from Eevee when leveled up knowing a Sound-type move. The move Echoed Voice (which was previously unavailable to Eevee, outside of the Japan-exclusive Kiyo Eevee event) was added to Eevee’s learnset at level 17. Its name is a compound of synth and the -eon suffix.

Lambyte and its evolution, Hadrone, are based on the extinct hadrosaurs, a clade of ornithischian dinosaurs. Lambyte can be revived from the Crest Fossil. Its Sound-typing is based on the theory that the crest functioned as a resonance chamber, and allowed lambeosaurines to communicate with each other. Whereas Lambyte looks more like a standard hadrosaur (a single, curved crest), Hadrone’s crest branches off into multiple horns similar to Exploud. It also has an inflated gular sac that, when coupled with its crests, gives it an appearance vaguely reminiscent of bagpipes. Lambyte’s name is a portmanteau of Lambeosaurus and byte. Hadrone’s name is a portmanteau of Hadrosaurus and drone.

Ceebass and its evolution, Seabeam, are based on the seabass and the seabream, respectively. Since they exist to fulfill the niche of generic regional fish Pokémon, I never bothered to design them beyond that. Ceebass’ name is a pun of the eponymous fish, the seabass, along with the musical note C and the word bass. Seabeam’s name alludes to its namesake animal, the seabream, along with the beam used in musical notation.

Tinnitrah and its evolution, Cayemach, are based on cheetahs. Its Sound-typing is based on the concept of a Pokémon that runs so fast it breaks the sound barrier. Tinnitrah’s name is a portmanteau of tonitrus (the Latin word for thunder) and tinnitus, with the -ah ending being a callback to the spelling of cheetah. Cayemach’s name is based on the abbreviation KMH (kilometers per hour) and Mach.

Amprawna and its evolution, Malacoustraca, are based on lobsters. Their Ability (Thermal Touch, which causes them to switch from Water- to Fire-type either when hit by a Fire-type attack, or when burned) and their Sound-typing are based on the “scream” that lobsters make when they come into contact with boiling water. Outside of battle, both Pokémon default to Sound/Water, unless they’re inflicted with the burn status condition. Once the battle ends, or their burn status is cured, they revert back to Sound/Water. Amprawna’s name is a portmanteau of amp and prawn. Malacoustraca’s name is a portmanteau of malacostraca (a class of crustaceans) and acoustic.

Howlycan is based on a wolf. Conceptually, its design is based on the idea of howling winds (as in, a violent storm) and the fact that loud noises can trigger avalanches, hence it being Ice/Sound. Howlycan’s name is a portmanteau of howl and lycan.

Aedehz is based on a mosquito. Regrettably, I didn’t put much thought into its design beyond “I need a Sound/Bug Pokémon,” so there isn’t much to say about its appearance. The etymology of its name, however, is more developed. Aedehz comes from the word Aedes, a genus of mosquitoes, with the s replaced at the end by hz (a silent h followed by z, the voiced alveolar fricative). Not only is hz onomatopoeia of the mosquito’s shrill whine, but it’s also based on the abbreviation for Hertz (Hz).

Reqiem is based on a shark. Its Ghost-typing reflects its behavior of patrolling the wrecks of sunken ships. Reqiem’s name comes from requiem (a piece of ceremonial music for honoring the dead) and carcharhinid (requiem) sharks, which statistically encompass the species most likely to attack humans.

Savoid, in a departure from its pre-evo, Sableye, draws greater inspiration from subterranean animals. While its overall stature still bears a close resemblance to Sableye’s, Savoid no longer has gemstones encrusted in its torso and face. It now shares certain characteristics—like anophthalmia (blindness due to loss of eyes) and depigmentation—with troglofauna. The ear-like protrusions found on Sableye are now larger and more flared in its evolution, giving Savoid a bat-like appearance. Savoid’s name is a portmanteau of savage and void, and a pun of savoyed (curled and wrinkly in texture).

Hearcine is based on a goat. In addition to being one of the few Sound-types belonging to a three-stage evolutionary line, it also has a branching path. Which Pokémon it evolves into (either Shamois or Capyrne) depends on the evolutionary stone it’s exposed to—a Fire Stone or a Leaf Stone. Hearcine’s name is a pun of hear and hircine (having a goat-like quality).

Shamois and its evolution, Virdin, are based on goats and fauns/satyrs. Shamois’ horns are large and curled forward a bit like a bighorn sheep’s. The ends have openings for piping out sound. Virdin’s horns look more like reed pipes (similar to the design done by Golurk on Twitter). Shamois’ name is a portmanteau of shawm (a woodwind instrument), chamois (a species of goat-antelope), and shamrock. Virdin’s name is a portmanteau of verdant and din.

Capyrne and its evolution, Pyrouette, are based on goats and fauns/satyrs. Their overall designs (concept-wise) are markedly similar to those of their Grass-type counterparts, Shamois and Virdin, so I won’t waste much time elaborating. Capyrne’s name is a portmanteau of caper, caprine, and pyre. Pyrouette’s name is a portmanteau of pyre and pirouette.

Decibelle is based on a snail. In keeping with the theme of music, its shell bears a resemblance to a sleigh bell, while its body (when retracted into the shell) functions a bit like a clapper. Decibelle prefer to suspend themselves from tree branches by using mucus to adhere their shell to the bark. Decibelle’s name is a portmanteau of decibel and bell.

Sirenade, Sentinoal, and Caranoch are based on canaries. More specifically, they’re based on the canary in a coal mine. Each stage’s secondary typing (Flying, Poison, and Ghost) reflects a different stage of the canary’s health over the course of its life. Sirenade, the first stage in its evolutionary family, represents a canary that has yet to be caged and brought down into the mine. Sentinoal, the middle stage, represents the canary once it’s been brought down into the mine and exposed to carbon monoxide. The final stage, Caranoch, represents the canary once it has expired from carbon monoxide poisoning. Sirenade’s name is a portmanteau of Sirena (the genus that canaries belong to) and serenade. Sentinoal’s name is a portmanteau of sentinel (as in, a sentinel species) and coal. Caranoch’s name is a portmanteau of canary and coronach (the third round of a keening, a traditional Gaelic Celtic lament for the dead).

Roarqual and its evolution, Orcarina, are based on whales, since cetaceans are famous for their complex vocalizations. Roarqual’s name is a portmanteau of roar and rorqual (a group of baleen whales). Orcarina’s name is a portmanteau of orca and ocarina.

Detonite isn’t based on an animal, but rather, on a candy called pop rocks. Detonite is the final stage of the regional Geodude evolutionary family. I never really hammered out a concrete design for this Pokémon, but I like to think that its shell looks a bit like the bomb rocks found in the Pikmin games. Detonite’s name is a portmanteau of detonate and -ite, a suffix commonly used for naming minerals.

Vibron is based on various theropods, as well as the bulgasari, similar to its counterpart Aggron. The regional forms of Aron and Lairon that it evolves from were conceptualized as vessel flutes, due to the holes in their shells. Vibron takes the concept a step further by having horns with openings for emitting noise, and a tail with an opening visually similar to a mouthpiece. Much like a Whismur, the holes at both ends of Vibron’s body form a one-way airflow, allowing them to continuously let out sound. Vibron’s name is a portmanteau of vibration and -on, the suffix used for the other stages of its evolutionary line.

Boomslang is based on the eponymous snake. Unlike its real-world counterpart, the Pokémon has a rattle on its tail similar to snakes in the genera Crotalus and Sistrurus. In Afrikaans and Dutch, boomslang is a compound of boom “tree” and slang “snake.” The Pokémon’s name is a pun on the word boom (a loud, deep, resonant sound).

Syntherium and its evolution, Clariodon, are based on elephants. These two are pretty self-explanatory. Syntherium’s name is a portmanteau of synth and -theirum (a taxonomic suffix used for groups like the gomphothere, an extinct elephant relative). Clariodon is a portmanteau of clarion (a war trumpet) and -don (a taxonomic suffix used for groups like the mastodon, another extinct elephant relative).

Earwyrm is based on an amphiptere or a lindworm. Unfortunately, I didn’t put much thought into what its appearance would actually be. I generally picture it as a long-bodied serpent-like critter. Earwyrm’s name is a pun of earworm (a catchy, repetitive song that gets stuck in one’s head) and wyrm (a limbless or wingless dragon).

Fisticleff and its evolution, Cavomant, are based on a mantis shrimp. The concept for them comes from the mantis shrimp’s ability to generate shock waves when it strikes prey with its raptorial, claw-like appendages. The attack has an acceleration of 10,400 g at speeds of 23 m/s. Vapor-filled bubbles (known as cavitation bubbles) form from the acceleration, and when they collapse, they hit the prey with a force of 1,500 newtons. The high-speed punch was the basis for both Pokémon’s dual Fighting/Sound typing. Fisticleff’s name is a portmanteau of fisticuffs and clef. Cavomant’s name is a portmanteau of cavitation and mantis.

Sinth is based on a banshee (another Pokémon whose premise goes without saying, really). I’m aware that Misdreavus and Mismagius are already (arguably) based on banshees, but the redundancy doesn’t bother me that much. Look, if Nintendo can have twenty-two monkey Pokémon (twenty-three if we’re counting Darmanitan’s Galarian form) then I am fully justified in adding another banshee to the roster. Sinth’s name is pun of synth and sin.

Acoustick is based on an arachnid. This species evolves from the regional form of Joltik, hence the similarity of their names. Its “gimmick” is that it takes advantage of Sound-types being immune to other Sound-type Pokémon. Acoustick is a specialized predator that uses its Ability, Dampener, to neutralize or “absorb the sound” (in this case, the typing) of its opponent via its web. This allows Acoustick to bypass the typical immunity and use Sound-type moves against other Sound-types. Acoustick’s name is a pun of acoustic and tick.

Bassalisk and its evolution, Cockashreek, are based on the basilisk and the cockatrice, respectively. Both Pokémon have appearances similar to reptilian/draconic roosters. In mythology, the basilisk comes from a snake’s or toad’s egg hatched by a male chicken. For cockatrices, the reverse is true, with them being hatched from a chicken’s egg incubated by either a toad or a snake. As a nod to this, Bassalisk can only be hatched when the player has a male Cockashreek in their party. Without the evolved form, the counter for the Egg cycle won’t begin to tick down. Similarly, having a Pokémon with the Abilities Flame Body, Magma Armor, or Steam Engine in the party won’t work. Bassalisk is a pun of bass and basilisk. Cockashreek’s name is a portmanteau of cockatrice and shriek.

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #my posts #i speak #fakemon #fake pokemon #sound type #new sound type pokemon #y'all have no idea how badly i wish i could draw these #edit: this has nothing to do with sound-types #but i thought of some ideas for other pokemon #like grass/ice pokemon called timbrr #and a grass/fire horse called neighpalm

[silvokrent]

An explanation for each Pokémon’s type change can be found under the readmore.

[173, 035 – 036] Cleffa, Clefairy, and Clefable — Usually, when I stumble upon lists for re-typed Sound Pokémon, these three are omitted in favor of members of the Jigglypuff line. Believe it or not, though, there’s a good deal of supporting evidence for their inclusion. In addition to learning Sing via level up, Clefairy and Clefable were one of the only three species in their debut generation to learn Metronome (a device used by musicians to mark time). All three have names that include the word clef, and in six main series games (Gold, Silver, Crystal, HG, SS, and Legends Arceus) they appear at night to sing and dance. If you want further proof, in pre-release promotional content for Red and Blue, Clefairy’s and Clefable’s English localization names were Aria and Ariala.

[174, 039 – 040] Igglybuff, Jigglypuff, and Wigglytuff — With the exception of Wigglytuff, their Pokédex entries regularly mention their propensity for singing. Members of this line, when they reach their mid-stage evolution, have access to multiple sound-based moves, including Sing, Disarming Voice, Echoed Voice, Round, and Hyper Voice.

[041 – 041, 169] Zubat, Golbat, and Crobat — A recurring argument amongst proponents of the Sound-type is that all of the bat Pokémon ought to be reclassified. In which case, Woobat, Swoobat, Noibat, and Noivern undisputedly have the better claim. Zubat and its relatives are unfortunately somewhat lacking by comparison. Zubat’s Pokédex entries talk about its atrophied eyes, and its reliance on echolocation to navigate, sure. The other two, however, focus on different traits (Golbat being a sanguivore, and Crobat being fast and maneuverable). If you wanted to acknowledge their ability to echolocate without overemphasizing the corollary typing, then you could make Sound its secondary typing (which is what I did here). Another workaround could be making Zubat Flying/Sound, but when it evolves, have its Sound-typing replaced with Flying/Poison.

[131] Lapras — From Generation II onward, its Pokédex entries refer to its enchanting songs (something that’s reinforced by its learnset, which includes both Sing and Perish Song). It also has its Gigantamax form, which doubles down on the sound theme by turning its shell into a vessel flute (like an ocarina), and forming a ring of ice that resembles a musical staff around its shell.

[163 – 164] Hoothoot and Noctowl — If any of the Pokémon on this list were going to turn heads, I had a hunch it would be these two. Admittedly, the justification for them being half-Sound is rather flimsy. I’ll concede that part of the reason why I included them was because I wanted to cull the list of Normal/Flying birds. (Speaking of which, did you know that there are twenty-six of them?) That being said, there is a basis for the type change. Hoothoot’s name is onomatopoeia for the sound that owls make, and its learnset includes Growl, Echoed Voice, and Uproar. Noctowl—in addition to having access to the same attacks as its predecessor—has a Pokédex entry in Crystal that talks about its specialized feathers muffling its sound during flight. There’s a real-world basis for this. Owls’ feathers have serrated edges along the remiges to reduce the sound of flapping. The feathers also have a velvety structure on their surface that absorbs sound. These traits can reduce noise frequency to 2 kHz, well below their prey’s range of hearing. With these features in mind, having a pair of Sound-type owls that specialize in suppressing noise doesn’t seem all that unlikely.

[182] Bellossom — Despite not learning any sound-based moves, an argument could be made for Bellossom being half-Sound. Nearly all of its Pokédex entries state that when it dances, the friction from its petals rubbing together makes a pleasant, ringing sound. It’s also literally based on a bell, hence the name. It wouldn’t be difficult to introduce a handful of new Sound-types moves that complement Bellossom’s physiology, and then retroactively add them to its learnset.

[200, 429] Misdreavus and Mismagius — Hilariously, despite being classified as the Screech Pokémon, Misdreavus doesn’t actually learn Screech. It seems like a weird oversight, considering that both it and Mismagius are based on banshees, and each has Pokédex entries which discuss their wailing and chanting at length. Both of them qualify for Sound-type, but their movepools need to be overhauled to better reflect that.

[272] Ludicolo — If you’re old like me and played Pokémon: Colosseum back in the day, you probably remember Miror B. and his army of Ludicolos. The animation in this game—and its sequel—does an excellent job reinforcing the themes of its Pokédex entries. When Ludicolo is exposed to upbeat music, the cells in its body are stimulated, and it begins to move in sync with the rhythm. Its overall physique also bears a resemblance to a mariachi player, right down to the sombrero-like lily pad and poncho-like body hair.

[311 – 312] Plusle and Minum — Apart from having the dubious honor of being the first of the Pikachu clones, neither one has much going for it. Re-typing them as Electric/Sound was done partly because they’re both classified as the Cheering Pokémon. The other reason was to give them some sort of identity/utility outside of their initial gimmick.   

[329 – 330] Vibrava and Flygon — Depending on who you ask, both of these Pokémon could be classified as any number of types—Ground, Dragon, Bug, Flying. In this case, I think Ground/Sound works best. Ground preserves the typing that they carry over from their initial form, Trapinch, while Sound compliments their learnsets and Pokédex entries. Both Pokémon have access to Supersonic, Screech, Sonic Boom, Bug Buzz, Uproar, and Boomburst. According to the Pokédex, Vibrava hunts by generating ultrasonic waves with its wings that are strong enough to render prey unconscious. Flygon’s ability to kick up sandstorms with its wings produces noise that resembles singing.

[436 – 437] Bronzor and Bronzong — Bronzong is a pretty open and shut case—its appearance is based on a large metal bell called a dōtaku, while its name alludes to several instruments (a gong and bianzhong) and the onomatopoeia for a reverberating bell, dong. Bronzor, on the other hand, has no such allusions. If you wanted to keep the theme of musical instruments, you could argue that Bronzor (despite being based on a mirror) bears a superficial resemblance to a gong, or perhaps even a tambourine.

[524 – 526] Roggenrola, Boldore, and Gigalith — Out of all the canon Pokémon, these three have the distinction of being the only Rock-types that qualify for Sound-typing. The hexagonal, concaved structures on their bodies are basically “ears.” Roggenrola (whose name, by the way, is a pun of rock’n’roll) is the one to most prominently feature this distinction, as most of its dex entries discuss how it navigates via hearing. Boldore only gets a single game (Shield) that mentions its reliance on sound, and Gigalith has none. I chalk this up to the games’ tendency to recycle old Pokédex entries, and the devs not bothering to reiterate this fact for Gigalith, since the entries for its previous evolutions already covered it ad nauseam. Since Gigalith retains the hexagonal cores in its design, it’s a safe bet that it still utilizes sound.

[556] Maractus — Despite the fact that Grass Whistle is the only sound-based move in its repertoire, Maractus still gets a pass. The protrusions on its head produce a rattling noise akin to maracas, which it uses to scare off predators. Maractus is another example of Pokémon that qualifies for Sound-typing, provided that its learnset is expanded to accommodate it.

[667 – 668] Litleo and Pyroar — With access to moves like Hyper Voice, Echoed Voice, and Noble Roar (its signature move), it makes sense for these two to be half-Sound. The foundation’s there.

[730] Primarina — There is an absurdly large number of justifications for making Primarina Sound-type. It’s classified as the Soloist Pokémon, it has a signature move (Sparkling Aria) and Z-Move (Oceanic Operetta) based on singing, its name is a portmanteau of marina and prima donna, its design draws inspiration from mermaids and sirens, and it learns Disarming Voice, Sing, and Hyper Voice. Primarina’s Fairy-typing feels almost arbitrary by comparison.

[731 – 733] Pikipek, Trumbeak, and Toucannon — Woodpeckers (which Pikipek is based on) differ from passerine birds in that they primarily use nonvocal communication called drumming. Much like its real-life equivalent, Pikipek taps against trees to communicate with members of its flock. Trumbeak differs from the former in that its beak can flex, enabling it to produce over a hundred different unique sounds. Additionally, its name is a portmanteau of trumpet and beak, and it’s classified as the Bugle Beak Pokémon. Although Toucannon lacks the same associations as its predecessors, it still has the ability to learn Growl, Echoed Voice, Supersonic, Screech, and Hyper Voice.

[782 – 784] Jangmo-o, Hakamo-o, and Kommo-o — In hindsight, it’s really odd just how many dragons (Altaria, Vibrava, Flygon, Noibat, Noivern, and now these three) got the Sound-type treatment. But if any dragon deserved it, then it’s definitely this lot. All three stages utilize sound-based attacks—Screech, Belly Drum, Noble Roar, Boomburst—including their signature moves, Clanging Scales and Clangorous Soul. Numerous, and I do mean numerous, Pokédex entries go into detail about how their scales produce a metallic sound that they use to communicate. Their etymologies reflect this, with Jangmo-o, Hakamo-o, and Kommo-o containing the words jangling, haka (a ceremonial Māori dance), and commotion.

[810 – 812] Grookey, Thwackey, and Rillaboom — Galar’s Grass starters are probably the least subtle when it comes to sound motifs. Both Thwackey and Rillaboom have the distinction of being the Beat Pokémon and the Drummer Pokémon, respectively. These Pokémon even have a freaking symbiotic relationship with plants, with Grookey able to revitalize the flowers around it just by striking up a beat. Their learnset gives them access to Noble Roar, Screech, Boomburst, Uproar, and their signature move, Drum Beating. Not classifying them as Sound-types feels like a missed opportunity on Nintendo’s part, so allow me to rectify it.

[849] Toxtricity — I take it back: this is the least subtle Pokémon on the list. A signature Ability (Punk Rock), a signature move (Overdrive), two different forms (Amped and Low Key), and the protrusions on its chest sound like guitars when strummed.

[862] Obstagoon — Glam rock honey badger. That’s it.

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #my posts #i speak #sound type #half sound type pokemon (secondary type) #the table ended up being so large that i had to upload it as two separate images

[silvokrent]

An explanation for each Pokémon’s type change can be found under the readmore.

[333 – 334] Swablu and Altaria — Swablu’s claim to Sound-typing is based on Disarming Voice and Sing being parts of its learnset via level up. The better justification, however, can be found in its evolution, Altaria. Altaria is one of the few Pokémon to naturally learn Perish Song (alongside several other species that will be appearing on this list). In addition to being classified as the Humming Pokémon, its Pokédex entries all describe its melodic soprano voice in detail, and how it instills wonder and awe in its listeners. Conversely, if provoked, Altaria threatens its attackers with shrill cries.

[401 – 402] Kricketot and Kricketune — Reclassifying these two as Sound-types isn’t just based on their in-universe lore, but their real-world premise, too. Crickets are widely-recognized for their complex, diverse chirps, created through a process called stridulation. In addition to resembling their namesake insect, both Pokémon incorporate instruments into their designs. Kricketot’s body has elements of a string instrument (likely a lyre), and when its antennae click together, they produce a sound akin to a xylophone. Kricketune’s torso appears to be a violin, with its arms functioning as a bow.

[441] Chatot — It’s a parrot with a head that resembles an eighth note, a tail that looks like a metronome, and its signature move is Chatter. It’s practically the damn poster child for Sound-type.

[527 – 528] Woobat and Swoobat — When talking about what Pokémon can be classified as Sound-types, it’s a common argument that all of the bat Pokémon should be collectively rebranded. You can take it or leave it with these two, but personally, I think they both work as Sound-types. Woobat’s Pokédex entries consistently talk about how it navigates its environment (dark caves and forests) using ultrasonic waves. This goes double for Swoobat, who not only hunts using ultrasonic frequencies, but whose sound waves are powerful enough to obliterate concrete.

[535 – 537] Tympole, Palpitoad, and Seismitoad — When I first started doing research for this project, I was surprised to see them appear on multiple people’s lists. Imagine my shock when I learned that all three Pokémon (their names, their appearances, and their learnsets) heavily incorporate sound. Tympole’s eyebrows are made to look like quarter notes, and the bumps (the warts, or parotoid glands) on the side of its head are actually headphones. Palpitoad’s and Seismitoad’s warts are meant to resemble loudspeaker drivers. All three have access to sound-based moves—like Echoed Voice, Hyper Voice, Round, and Uproar—and the etymology for their names includes seismic waves, palpitations, and tympanums/timpani (drums). As for why I kept their Ground-typing rather than their Water—solid matter transmits sound faster than liquids. I wanted them to retain the type that best complimented their new Sound-typing.

[648] Meloetta — Meloetta is another fairly obvious candidate for a type change, given that music is its entire gimmick. Its two forms—Aria and Pirouette—are based on a singer and a dancer, respectively, and are switched between via its signature move, Relic Song.

[714, 715] Noibat and Noivern — Out of all the bat Pokémon, these two have the greatest justification for being reclassified. Their names (noise bat and noise wyvern) reinforce their appearances, which include ears stylized to resemble loudspeakers. Noivern makes use of ultrasound to hunt, while Noibat’s Pokédex entries take it a step further: Its sound waves reach 200,000 Hz. For the record, the frequency range that humans can hear at is between 0 Hz and 20,000 Hz. That’s a 900% increase. If any Pokémon merits a Sound-typing, it’s these two.

[741] Oricorio — Out of all the Pokémon on this list, Oricorio probably has the weakest claim to Sound-typing. Its premise has more to do with dancing than singing, and the only sound-based move it actually learns is Growl. But I already gave Meloetta’s Pirouette Form a pass, and honestly, there’s something about Oricorio being part Sound-type that feels right. If you squint your eyes then you could reason that dancing is usually accompanied by music, so the connection’s definitely there, albeit heavily implied.

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #my posts #i speak #sound type #half sound type pokemon (primary type)

[silvokrent]

An explanation for each Pokémon’s type change can be found under the readmore.

[293 – 295] Whismur, Loudred, and Exploud — These three vie with Chatot for the title of Quintessential Sound-type Pokémon. Every Pokédex entry from Generation III onward directly mentions their ability to scream, loud enough to rival jets and topple buildings. In the generation that they debuted, since there weren’t any better headings, the entire line got filed under “Normal” (otherwise known as Pokémon’s dumping ground for all things miscellaneous). With the introduction of a Sound-type, Normal becomes unnecessary, so it can be nixed.

[358, 433] Chingling and Chimecho — An argument could be made that these two could have kept their Psychic-typing and been made half-Sound. Granted, but I think there’s a more compelling argument to be had in ditching it due to its superfluous nature. Chimecho (and by extension, Chingling) suffer from the same problem as the Whismur line in that their typing was based on there simply being no better options at the time. Neither of their Pokédex entries, in any of the core series games, talks about their Psychic powers. What we do see, however, is an overwhelming mention of their ability to communicate using ultrasound. Given the fact they’re based on instruments (a fūrin and a suzu bell, respectively), making them pure Sound-type made more sense.

[531] Audino — When it comes to Sound Pokémon, you can broadly classify them into two groups: Pokémon that specialize in producing sound (vocalization) and Pokémon that specialize in hearing sound (audition). Audino firmly falls under the latter. Its etymology not only references this ability, but so does its design, with its massive ears having stethoscope-like feelers. Most of its Pokédex entries make frequent mention of its “radar-like” ability to perceive its environment, including the sound of a pebble rolling along over a mile away. Again, Normal-type strikes me very much as a convenient placeholder in lieu of something more appropriate, so it’s getting axed.

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #my posts #i speak #sound type #pure sound type pokemon

[silvokrent]

Sound-type Pokémon

New types aren’t a novel concept to the Pokémon fandom. Well before the Fairy-type was introduced in Generation VI, fans speculated on the possibility of adding others. Light was a popular contender, as was Synthetic, for human-made species like the Porygon line, Mewtwo, and Silvally. There was also talk of rebranding Flying into Wind, in order to make it more elementally thematic (and to help circumvent some of the weirdness/ambiguity of wingless Flying-types like Dodrio). While I definitely think all of those topics merit discussion down the line, that’s not what this post is about.

Today, I’d like to discuss the feasibility of another type: Sound.

Now, I’m certainly not the first person to pitch this idea. Plenty of fan artists and writers have used it for their own projects, including a handful of fan games. JelloAppocalypse even did a video about it a little over a month ago. (And you should absolutely go watch it.)

Last week, I decided to dig out my old 3DS and dust off my cartridge of Pokémon White 2, because I was bedridden and had literally nothing else to do. And as I played, it got me thinking: What would a Sound-type look like? What Pokémon could possibly be reclassified? What would its characteristics be? How viable would it be, from a lore perspective and from a meta perspective? Would Sound-type have a niche in the VGC?

Regarding the last question, I’m not going to speculate too much on it, in no small part because I haven’t been part of the competitive battling scene since Generation VII. (If you do want an idea of how the metagame could be structured around a hypothetical Sound-type, I recommend WolfeyVGC’s analysis.) I have no idea what the current metagame looks like, and trying to dip my toes back into it requires far more free time than I actually have.

I did, however, have plenty of free time to make spreadsheets. Lots and lots of spreadsheets.

Since a few people seemed to like my commentary on Are Slowbro and Shellder separate Pokémon? I thought some of y’all might enjoy my thoughts on Sound-types.

And for the record, I’m not debating whether Sound does or doesn’t “fit in” with the other types. If Nintendo can make a distinction between rocks and ground, or classify punching things as its own separate type, then I’m fully justified in making sound an element.

Each of the following topics is going to be its own post, with this one functioning as the master list. I’ll link back to each as they’re uploaded.

Sound-type Pokémon Index

Battle Properties

Type Matchups

Status Conditions

Weather

Moves

Abilities

Pokémon Species:

Pure Sound-type Half Sound-type (Primary Typing) Half Sound-type (Secondary Typing) New Sound-type Forms New Species

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #my posts #i speak #sound type #let's do this

[silvokrent]

O’Pendu Eldéru can be listened to here on Musescore.

#rwby #rwby thought dump #my posts #i speak #rwby redux #rwby worldbuilding #sideblogs #music #i wrote the lyrics while my sibling sam composed the actual music #reblogging from my sideblog to celebrate hitting my 100 follower milestone

[silvokrent]

Tagged by @gorgeousgalatea for the getting to know you meme!

Relationship status: Single, and keeping it that way forever.

Favorite color(s): Green, blue, and silver. Honorable mention goes to yellow.

Favorite food: I don’t think I have one anymore. ;-; Although I am rather partial to Italian hoagies served on bagels instead of rolls.

Song stuck in my head: The Last Shanty by Nathan Evans. Here’s a link to it if anyone wants to check it out.

Current time: Nine o’clock at night.

Dream trip: Iceland or Spain. But as long as COVID continues to remain a threat, travel’s a no-go, since everyone in my family (myself included) is immunocompromised. If more people wore masks, it would be less of an issue, but since most people are selfish fucking assholes, that’s not about to change any time soon. >:|

Something I want: For my family’s health to improve, and my student loans to be forgiven. For something a little less dour - I’d really like to get a tattoo one day.

Tagging: @tigerstripedmoon, @arcreblogs, @edwardcollectsurns, @titan-mom, and @darkchocolatekitkat.

#tumblr memes #ask memes #tag meme #my posts #i speak #gorgeousgalatea #thank you! :) #me

[silvokrent]

Excerpt from guest speaker Prof. Rowan, held at the Jubilife Conference: “Redefining Evolution through the Lens of Obligate Symbiosis.”

The current paradigm for evolution, defined as a sudden, radical metamorphosis of a Pokémon’s physiology, has sufficed for many years, although it’s hardly gone uncontested. It’s a contentious subject amongst researchers—no doubt, I speak from personal experience—largely due to its complexity, and our inability to neatly articulate it.

One such topic is that of multi-constituent evolution, wherein two or more individuals simultaneously engage in the process. Our understanding of evolution acting upon a single Pokémon is muddied somewhat when we’re forced to define what counts as a “single” Pokémon. In cases such as these, the definition becomes rather vague.

Presently, there are two recognized categories of multi-constituent evolution: conspecific and heterospecific. For those that might need a refresher, conspecific is defined as an evolution where two or more Pokémon of the same lineage evolve together into a superorganism. Notable examples of this include the Beldum line, which culminates in Metagross, a Pokémon formed from two of its mid-stage evolution, Metang. The other category, heterospecific, is disproportionately rarer, as it involves two different species collaboratively evolving together.

I’m sure you don’t need to guess what Pokémon I’m referring to—it’s written on the pamphlet, after all—and its infamy certainly goes without saying.

Slowbro. A rather unassuming creature at a cursory glance, yet its existence challenges our fundamental understanding of evolution. For decades, it’s been argued that the Pokémon evolving into Slowbro is its precursor, Slowpoke, and that the Shellder merely induces the process, either by acting as a counterweight, or through the analgesic enzymes found in its venom. The counterargument—as proposed by some of our audience members in attendance today—is that “Slowbro” is a misnomer. Instead, Shellder is the Pokémon primarily evolving, as evidenced by the change of its shell from a bivalve-morph to a gastropod-morph. The catalyst for Shellder’s evolution, in this scenario, would be the exudate secreted from the Slowpoke’s caudal glands.

Both theories hold merit. The only issue with them is that they emphasize the evolution of one species over the other—Shellder or Slowpoke. Neither considers the potentially obligate nature of their shared symbiosis, only the ways in which they superficially impact the other.

My proposition is that the evolution of Slowbro represents a holobiont—a superorganism composed of two distinct species whose synergistic interactions cannot be separated.

The primary argument against this theory is devolution—the hypothetical scenario in which the removal of the Shellder would force its host to “revert back” to a Slowpoke stage. At present, this remains purely conjectural, as no instances have been documented in the wild, nor artificially induced in a laboratory setting. Outside of the temporary phenomenon known as “Mega Evolution,” no Pokémon has ever been witnessed regressing to an earlier stage in its evolutionary lineage.

In addition to there being no substantiated evidence to back this claim, it hinges on a flawed supposition—that the Slowpoke partner can return to its default state, while ignoring the anatomical changes induced by evolution.

X-rays of the Slowbro’s skeleton show that it becomes adapted to a new form of ambulatory movement: bipedalism. Its hind feet become plantigrade, with a well-defined heel for energy conservation during locomotion. Similarly, the enlarged knees make it possible for the legs to support its weight under gravity. The lumbar and thoracic curvature of the vertebral column—absent in the pre-evolution—allow for the body’s center of gravity to be brought directly over the feet.

None of these anatomical changes to the Slowpoke would disappear in the absence of the partner Shellder, making a reversion to a quadrupedal gait impossible. I should also point out that the existence of the Galarian Slowbro—whose partner Shellder is clamped to the forearm—belies the argument that the Shellder is merely a counterweight on the tail.

I feel it’s worth mentioning that evolution doesn’t just induce an anatomical shift in Slowpoke, but a behavioral one as well. Without the ability to fish for prey, Slowbro becomes reliant on active pursuit swimming, and, even more importantly, a wider repertoire of Psychic-type moves. There is a direct correlation between the Shellder’s venom and Slowbro’s increased proficiency in using Psychic-type attacks. This suggests that not only does the Slowpoke benefit from this arrangement, but the mutualism is obligate.

The same can be said for its Shellder partner, which becomes permanently sessile post-evolution. In exchange for amplifying its host’s Psychic potential, it is allowed to feed on the scraps of its meals. This not only eliminates the need for Shellder to passively hunt, but it gains an additional form of protection from its host.

If Slowpoke and Shellder are capable of independently surviving, you might wonder, then why would either species choose to evolve together? One possibility is that evolution reduces competition amongst Slowpoke, Shellder, and Cloyster populations through resource partitioning. Active predation, as opposed to passively luring in prey, has the potential to offset—

you know how IRL scientists are always ready to throw hands over certain topics? what I want to know is what kind of stupid arguments Pokemon scientists get into fights over. a heated battle starts in the middle of a conference because someone asked if Slowking’s Shellder could be considered its own separate species or not

#pokemon #pokemon thought dump #i speak #flygon #slowpoke #slowbro #shellder #cloyster #realistic pokemon #speculative biology #professor rowan #for the record i usually disregard the pokedex entries in the games because the implications of some of them are...pretty unsettling #like you seriously expect me to believe that pyroar can produce fire hotter than the surface temperature of the sun #anyway here's that research paper i'm sure no one asked for

[silvokrent]

The Greek Orthodox Monastery of Kipina built in a cliff in Epirus in the 13th century ❤️🇬🇷❤️

Photo by Stavroula Stamoulakatou.

#photography #aesthetic #mountains #architecure #monasteries #kipinas monastery #greece #worldbuilding ideas #stavroula stamoulakatou