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the-present-is-a-gift-au · 3 months

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Chapter 9: In Which the Future Trio are Paid a Visit

Twig knocked on the front door of the Future Trio’s home with the world weighing on her shoulders. Celebi was the one to answer. “Twig, dear, it’s been too long! I couldn’t believe—”

She cut off abruptly when she caught sight of the shadowy figure looming over Twig’s shoulder. Curiously, her expression wasn’t one of terror or fury like Dusknoir and Grovyle wore when they peered through the doorway as well. She regarded Darkrai with a look of… disorientation, almost. Like she was suddenly seeing double and trying to discern what exactly she was staring at. It stirred up some old memory from meeting Celebi in the Dark Future after Team Venture’s brush with death, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the memory when Grovyle was readying an attack and Dusknoir was following shortly behind him.

She gestured to her plus-one. “This is Darkrai. Or Ark. Whichever name you want to use. I met him at Mount Travail. He lost his memories just like I did, so I've been helping him out since we met. Be nice to him. He's sensitive.”

Darkrai regarded her with a look of quiet curiosity, but said nothing. Grovyle and Dusknoir warily dismissed their forming attacks, and Celebi continued to squint at Twig and Darkrai.

"Darkrai, these are the guys I was telling you about— Celebi, and Grovyle, and Dusknoir." She indicated each one as she named them, then put on a strained smile. "Is dinner ready? I'm starved."

The food was great, as it always was, but the meal itself was the most awkward thing Twig had ever gone through, and Grovyle staring at her worriedly the whole time didn't make it any easier. Darkrai made regular attempts at polite conversation, but Dusknoir and Grovyle only ever responded in the most minimalistic ways one could imagine. Celebi meanwhile, despite her insistence before now that if she ever saw Darkrai again she would kill him on sight, was enthusiastically chatting with the same person who had sent her entire timeline into ruin, and she was doing so with a cordialness Twig hadn’t foreseen.

When the moon was high overhead, Grovyle indicated a room for Darkrai to sleep in and a separate one for Twig. When it was Kip and her visiting, it was always one room that they stayed in together. She guessed Grovyle saw her exhaustion and decided to remedy it however he could. Bless him. Even with her distance from Darkrai, though, Twig’s nightmares persisted. She woke up countless times clutching her arm and whimpering in pain. She was a mess come morning.

Grovyle was up, being the fellow early riser that he was, and watching the sunrise in the grasses on the edge of the Future Trio’s property. Twig sat down heavily beside him and flopped onto her back in the grass.

"What happened, Twig?" Asked Grovyle.

"It's what I said. Found him while I was delving at Mount Travail. He was shocked that I knew who he was because he had amnesia, and I brought him home. He's been my roommate since then."

"You need to kick him out. At minimum."

"Why?"

"Do I need to say it? Look at you. You're worse off than I've ever seen you since we reunited, maybe even worse than when we first met. You're putting yourself in danger to be kind to this moralless, untrustworthy—"

"I'm not doing this to be kind to him. I'm doing this to make sure he stays in line. I can't risk taking my eyes off the guy and having him remember how much he enjoyed world domination, Grovyle. It's— It’s bread and circuses for the Legend who almost took over the world. Keep him distracted and complacent. That sort of thing, you know?"

Grovyle didn't look like he believed her.

"Besides, who knows. Maybe some wacky shenanigans will happen and he and I will become best friends. It happened with you and Dusknoir, didn’t it?”

He bristled. “That isn’t the same, Twig,” he said lowly. “Dusknoir changed of his own volition. It wasn’t like this, where Darkrai is a disaster waiting to happen. Besides that— you’re not well.”

“I’m doing great,” she bit out.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

Twig didn’t grace that with a response.

“Twig, I’m worried. Just tell me the truth. Are you okay?”

She tossed an arm over her eyes and grumbled an indistinct answer, and didn’t react further to his nagging.

***

Hours after the rest of the household had started their days, Celebi finally rose from bed, with Darkrai following shortly. They chatted quietly in the kitchen, discussing interdimensional auras, temporal entropy, and other topics that made no sense to a non-Legend. Twig watched them for a moment before turning to Dusknoir as he read, seated on the floor of the main room, and steeled herself.

He looked up when she approached, impassive expression flickering with worry.

"I need to ask you something," she said. Then after a few nervous heartbeats quietly added, "Privately."

He set his book aside and followed her out into the forest along the property's edge. Grovyle stood up from where he was knelt in the garden as they walked out. She waved off his look of concern with a dismissive motion. I'm fine. Don't worry about it. He was, yet again, visibly unconvinced, but didn't follow after them.

Dusknoir folded his arms behind his back when Twig came to a stop, finally satisfied that no one would be in view or earshot of the conversation she was dreading having, and calmly asked her, "What is your question?"

She opened and closed her mouth several times, put up a hand or started a gesture in order to begin only to falter halfway through the motion, and finally just sagged, shoulders drooping and head bowed, with a groan. "I guess it's less of a ‘question’ sort of thing and more of a ‘me running my mouth off and you telling me if I'm crazy’ sort of thing."

"Alright." He settled onto the forest floor, and the effort to get closer to her eye level was appreciated, especially when he motioned to a branch on a nearby tree that was closer to his own. "Run your mouth off, then, so I can assess your craziness. Keep in mind that you're not going to be told you're totally sane, though. I know you enough to say a description like that would be madness in itself."

The joke fell utterly flat in the face of her anxiety. But it was nice of him to try and ease the tension, at least. She clambered up and sat down on the branch, putting her face level with his brow, and wrung her hands. She had recited everything she wanted to say so many times in her head on the way here, and now all of it seemed inadequate and pointless.

"Breathe. Then start at the beginning," Dusknoir lightly instructed, jolting her from her thoughts. "Rip the bandage off quick."

Alright. Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. Stop agonizing and start talking. “My aunt would hurt me when I was a human. Like, hit me and stuff. A lot.” She wasn't looking at his face when she said it, but she could see him go stiff and still in the corner of her vision. “It was something that she'd do because I back-talked or acted up, and if it was really bad, she'd get out a lighter and— uh— b-but I forgot about anything happening when I became a charmander. It came back a while after you— uh—” She swerved hard around what she was about to say, pivoting her choice of words. “— after Kip and I came to the Dark Future, in little bits and pieces over time. I didn't tell anybody for ages, because it's dumb and embarrassing, and I wasn't going to, but… Well, Darkrai can visit people's nightmares, right? So he figured it out. He didn't say anything, and it was…" She paused. "Okay, he did say some things, but only in ways I understood. Nobody else picked up on it. But it freaked me out, and— well— yeah.

“That was before he lost his memories. But he figured it out again after that, and it's been messing with my head, even though he hasn't talked about it since he found out. Like, he hasn't mentioned anything. Not a peep. He's not exactly who he was before the whole amnesia thing, so he might not ever say anything, but I can't stop thinking about how he might. It's not a zero percent chance. It's just so stupid, because even if his memories did come back he probably wouldn't talk, but I'm stuck thinking about what if he does, and I… yeah."

Silence.

"So. Um. How crazy am I on a scale of one to ten?" She joked, turning to the man next to her and immediately regretting her attempt at humor.

Dusknoir had his eye behind a hand, arm crossed over his stomach, effectively hiding his face as he hunched in on himself.

"… Sorry for unloading on you," she murmured. "It's dumb. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Your… When you…" He tersely muttered a prayer and lowered his hand, looking up at her. "I— Thank you for telling me. I'm honored you trusted me enough to tell me. You did the right thing in telling me—"

"You can drop the script Magnezone gave you, man. I'm not a kid."

"—And you didn't deserve any of the mistreatment you received."

Something in her bristled at that. "I did, actually. But it's in the past. Or Future, or whatever," she hissed under her breath. She crossed her arms, looking down and away. "Forget I said anything, it was messed up for me to bother you with this junk."

"What did you say?"

"To forget about—"

"Before that."

"I said I deserved it and that it's done with, so whatever." She narrowed her eyes, glancing at him from the corners of her vision. He looked disgusted. "Yeah, look, I know it'd take some messed up stuff to deserve that sort of thing, but I was messed up. It's not on her. You don't have to worry about it."

“How on earth could a child deserve to be treated so repulsively?”

“I did a lot of awful things on top of being a legendary brat most days. Don't worry about it.”

“Twig. Answer me. What could you have done to deserve… You mentioned a lighter, those devices humans used to start fires? Arceus, how could you deserve such a thing being used on you?”

Her response came out small, timid. “I hurt a lot of people.”

“We all do. That doesn't mean any of us deserve to be abused by our kin.”

“No, like— I physically hurt them. Humans lived in bunkers when I grew up, and I'm the only one left from mine. And that's because of me. It's because of me an entire bunker is dead. It's my fault that hundreds of people are dead and gone, because I was a crybaby who couldn't handle getting batted around a bit here and there.” She cast him a weary, angry glance. “I'm pretty sure killing an entire community of men, women, and children counts as something that would make me deserve that kind of thing.”

His brow furrowed. “How could you manage to—?”

“By leaving my bunker. There was a fire, and the doors locked themselves behind me. No one else could get out, and they all burned or suffocated to death. Not a pretty way to go, you can guess, so I definitely had some preemptive karma going on with my aunt.”

There was a pause. “Preemptive,” Dusknoir echoed. “Am I right when I say, then, that you suffered for years before the supposed justification for your pain took place?”

Twig didn't respond.

“How did this fire start?”

“It just did,” she said too fast for it to be the truth. Dusknoir saw through it and asked again. “Look, I don't want to talk about— ugh. My aunt started it. I blabbed about her hurting me worse than normal to one of my teachers, and she was going to be arrested because it was real bad apparently—” Dusknoir made a choked sound beside her, but she pointedly ignored it— “So she started a fire to try and use it as cover for her to get out of trouble with. Probably. I dunno. Never got to ask her. I ran when I heard she was being detained because she always said that if something like that happened… Well, I didn't want to see if she was bluffing with what she told me. I ran, I left my bunker, and because of that these big bolts that lock the exit doors activated and trapped everyone inside behind me. It's my fault they all died in there.”

Dusknoir was silent for a long time. “How old were you upon coming to the surface?" He asked with a heavily fettered anger to his words.

"That doesn't matter. What happened is what happened, and it's done."

"Humor me."

She gritted her teeth. "I was six."

He took in a sharp breath and let it out in a low hiss. "You were a child young enough to not have even lived through ten winters. You fled because you were intimidated and abused by a wretch of a woman, and the mechanisms of your home failed. You can't be expected to hold the blame for a tragedy in which so many passed in an unfortunate way—"

"You can just say I cooked them, man. It's fine. And believe me, I'm not some poor little survivor or whatever you're thinking of me as. I was the worst kid anyone ever met. People hated me.”

“And who told you that?”

Twig gritted her teeth, silent.

"Even if you were an unpleasant child— which I honestly doubt— the blame for any escalation would not have been on your shoulders whatsoever. You were a child."

That stung somewhere deep in the back of her mind. "Thanks for trying to reassure me, but you're wrong. I was awful and I deserved every lick of pain I got.”

Dusknoir glared at her. "Whether or not you deserved anything doesn't matter. No one should lay a hand on you, regardless of whatever they might think you've earned. Would you say Azurill or Marill would deserve the treatment you received, were they in your place?” Her stomach seized at just the thought, and he continued. “No. You wouldn't. Because you know, even if you deny it, that what was done to you was wrong. What you deserved was safety and care, not to be made the victim of such cruel, unfair retribution.”

"Nice speech, still wrong. Bye." She hopped down from the branch and got three steps toward the house before Dusknoir caught her by the scruff and brought her level with his narrow glare. "Dude, what gives?!" She spat, clawing at his fingers.

"What gives is you're refusing to accept your complete innocence and acknowledge the perpetrator's sole responsibility for what was done. You were an innocent bystander; a child."

"I don't count!"

"You do."

"No, I don't!"

"Why do you believe that?"

"I told you— I killed my entire bunker!"

"And did that matter?"

“Put me down, you lousy piece of—"

"Did that matter?"

She paused, claws stilling in their furious assault on the hand holding her aloft, brows furrowing as she held his unyielding, though not unkind, gaze— the question sinking in. "… What?"

"Did you really kill them?" Arceus, he sounded so tired. “Did you kill them, or did you survive them?”

Silence.

“Anyone else could have been the first to flee. Anyone else could have gone through the exit before you. And then it would be them in your place, cursing themself for having lived where others died. You didn't will the mechanisms to fail, nor did you sabotage them. All you did was have the misfortune of surviving alone.”

She slowly lowered her claws from his fingers, curling her hands in to her chest. When she finally looked away from him without any rebuttal to spit, it felt like she'd been skinned alive— like her outer layers were all peeled away until there was nothing left but a dripping, bloody wound where she once stood.

Silence.

"… Put me down," she repeated.

He did so, and settled onto the ground beside her.

There was quiet for a long moment as they sat. Twig drew her knees up to her chest, hugged them close, and hunched her shoulders in as she stared at the ground by her feet.

Dusknoir spoke in a steady tone— firm but understanding as he brought their conversation back to Twig's initial concern. "Don't blame yourself for what was done to you by your kin. Don't blame yourself for fearing the ability to tell someone yourself being removed from you. But most of all, do not blame yourself for surviving. You were spared. Others were not. You surely feel disoriented and disgusted by that fact. But there is nothing to be done about the past but to continue living."

Those last words echoed in her skull. It hit her that he was speaking from experience, and a number of things clicked into place.

(He had mentioned there being other servants of Primal Dialga. Yet by the time they had entered the Dark Future, only he and the sableye enjoyed such a rank. She'd seen scars on him that didn't fade, a hallmark of a wound dealt by a Legend.

(It wasn't the same as her upbringing. Nothing would be. But if she thought about it, “As you wish, my lord” sounded dangerously close to “I'll go get the lighter, Auntie.”)

“You were a child,” he repeated, and his words felt like antiseptic on an open wound.

A few strangled tears slipped from her, and she managed to hold back most of her pitiful, weepy noises. But when she continued to sniffle and shake, Dusknoir set a kind hand over her shoulder— or over her entire upper arm, rather, with his size— and Twig, deciding that he could be a part of the Don't lose a hand when you touch Twig club, let all the years of swallowing back the need to scream and sob finally excise themselves.

***

To say she got worried looks upon returning to the house was an understatement. She knew it must have been clear in her face that she was crying, and Dusknoir’s clawed-up hand certainly didn’t help ease any concerns. Darkrai’s subtle worry was the most unnerving, though she knew Grovyle’s blatant fretting meant she was in for a discussion she didn’t want to have. Dusknoir set a hand on his shoulder as he made to approach when she started for the guest room— murmured something about allowing her time to collect herself— and Twig didn’t linger long enough to react to Grovyle’s heart-wrenching expression of concern. She locked the door and let herself collapse onto the bed, boneless and hollowed-out from her tears.

It was as if something had been ripped out of her as she wept at Dusknoir’s side. She felt like she’d had a tangled, knotted mass extracted from deep within her ribs. It wasn’t a bad sort of feeling, but it was definitely different than the constant lump in her throat she was used to. It was strange. Certainly not unpleasant, but not exactly good either.

She didn’t sleep that night, only stared at the wall in a numb daze. It wasn’t a bad night. But it wasn’t exactly a good one, either.

Grovyle was up when she rose the next morning. She murmured a greeting and poured herself a cup of whatever was heating in a kettle on the stovetop. It was a lukewarm magost berry tea, and the lack of steeping made it distinctly unpalatable. She drank it regardless.

He watched her drink for a moment. She avoided eye contact.

“Twig,” he finally said, “you’re being reckless.”

She did not need another ‘Let’s unearth all of Twig’s shortcomings and bring them up for review’ session so soon. She took another swig of the tea and looked away from Grovyle entirely.

“What if Darkrai’s memories return? What do you do then? You’re living with him. Who’s to say that he won’t recall his past and decide to kill you in your sleep?”

“That won’t happen,” she muttered.

“How can you say that so confidently? It’s a possibility! You don’t know for certain that it won’t happen—”

“The Darkrai I knew isn’t ever coming back, Grovyle! He’s gone. So I'd better get used to it already. I don’t need you driving in the fears that things will change when they never will! Darkrai is gone, he’s dead. So I should start acting like it, and you should too!” With those last words, she rounded on him, teeth bared and the flame at the end of her tail bright in the dim room.

She had never seen Grovyle look so defeated.

“I…” She swallowed hard. Why was he staring at her like that? Why was he—

Oh.

Darkrai wasn’t the only person who had lost their memories. He wasn’t the only one who had changed beyond recognition. He wasn’t the only one who people had to relearn how to act around when they used to know him well.

“I’m sorry,” she forced out. “I didn’t mean it like— I didn’t—” She gritted her teeth for a moment longer, then stormed out with another stammered apology.

Arceus, she felt awful. And she knew Grovyle felt even worse.

Good job, idiot.

***

Twig didn’t say goodbye when she left the next morning. She’d already done enough damage— it’s not like she needed to rub into Grovyle’s face that she was too stupid to know how to fix the damage she’d done to him and what friendship had been recovered between them. Darkrai was up and about in the main room already when she got up to leave, long enough before sunrise that even Grovyle hadn't risen for the day. She didn’t tell him they were leaving. Darkrai understood without her saying so— just rose up silently and followed behind her as she locked the front door after them with the spare key she’d been gifted.

At some point on the homeward trek, Darkrai spoke. “I don’t mean to seem as though I doubt you, but I still find it necessary to clarify how exactly we knew each other before my memories were lost.”

Twig found herself picking up the pace out of an instinctual need to flee— she had to purposefully slow her strides. “I already said you were a do-gooder type, man. You traveled all around, and my exploration team partner and I traveled too. We were bound to bump into each other at some point, and we got to know you a bit whenever we did.”

A pause. “This doesn’t explain why you and your companions are all so wary of me.”

“What?”

“Surely you noticed how Grovyle and Dusknoir reacted upon witnessing my arrival? They were ready to strike me down— or at the very least give their greatest effort in doing so.”

She chewed at the inside of her cheek. “That’s just them— they’re weird and nervous about new people. I’m not scared of you, Darkrai. Trust me.”

He didn’t respond further. She could only hope that he didn’t notice the waver in her voice at her final words as they traveled through snowdrifts and frost to Verdant Village.

#the present is a gift au #pmd eos #pmd fanfic #pmd explorers #pmd fanfiction #pmd fic #pmd2 #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd sky

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ifbench · 9 months

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PMD Eternal Shadows Chapter 1: Between Worlds

My eyes slowly opened, as I woke up, still tired, not ready for whatever today would bring. I rubbed my eyes, feeling grass brush up against my arm as I moved it.

Wait, grass?! I don’t remember sleeping outside!

I hastily stood up, and gawked at what I saw. A few meters away, the ground ended, and beyond, was a constantly changing sky, of greens and purples and blues and whites, all shifting and distorting with each second. I turned around, hoping that something else laid behind me, and the ground ended just as quickly that way, too. In every direction I looked, it ended the same distance away. I was alone on some sort of circular plateau.

I walked over to the edge, and looked down, to see if there was some way down. I hurriedly retreated in shock, before standing back up. There was nothing but a completely vertical drop into an abyss, that looked exactly like the strange skies above.

This had to be a dream. This couldn’t be real. I pinched my arm, and winced. That pain felt real. This was real. This was happening. Where was I?! How did I get here?!

My mind raced with questions, before I calmed myself down. There had to be some sort of explanation for all this. Maybe if I close my eyes, then everything will be ok. I shut my eyes, and opened them a few seconds later. Everything seemed to be the same as it was before I tried that, except I could now see something red in the corner of my vision. That wasn’t there before. I turned to the left to see exactly what that was.

It was some sort of mailbox at the side of the platform, with a pencil, and a piece of paper next to it. I walked over, and read the paper, which had the words, "Please write your name on this paper, then put it in the mailbox." I picked up the pencil, then hesitated.

What was I even doing? None of this made any sense! Who wrote this, and why should I listen to them?

Did I really have any other choice, though?

After a minute of contemplation, I wrote down "Gen" on the paper, then inserted it into the mailbox. Without warning, it started glowing brightly. I quickly backed away from it. What was happening to it?! As the light flashed even brighter in intensity, I flinched, and closed my eyes.

Suddenly, the light disappeared, and I heard a loud SNAP! I opened my eyes, and saw the top half of the mailbox was gone, a dark, jagged wooden post in its place. I hurried over, and peered over the edge to see if anything snapped it, barely catching the still red top half of the mailbox disappearing into the technicolor abyss. I backed away, shivering. What could have possibly done that?! As soon as I stepped back onto the center of the platform, the darkness in the post started to spread to the platform, causing the grass scattered around it to wilt and disappear, revealing a glassy, mirror-like layer underneath.

Soon, the platform was completely devoid of grass. The entire platform now reflected the ever-changing sky above. Strangely, my reflection seemed to be blurry. What was up with that? As I looked down, I saw something white out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head towards whatever that was, and noticed that there was a white bow on the ground a short distance away.

I walked over towards it, before picking it up. It was the softest fabric I had ever felt. As I rubbed the bow, taking in just how soft it was, I felt an odd sensation throughout my entire body. I faintly heard a voice, though I couldn’t tell what they were saying. Abruptly, the bow emitted an intense light, and my eyesight went dark.

I couldn’t see anything. Did I go blind?!

Soon, my vision started to return. Once my vision had fully cleared, the bow had taken on a blue coloration. I dropped it in surprise.

What kept happening in the flashes of light?!

After a few seconds, I calmed down, and picked the bow back up. As I did so, I noticed that, for some reason, my reflection looked different. I bent down to take a closer look. That looked like an...Oshawott?!

What had happened to me while I was holding that bow?! There was no way I could have become a Pokemon. I had to still be human, right?

I moved my hands in front of my face. They were still human hands. What was that all about? What was any of this all about?!

Why was I here? Why did these unexplainable things keep happening here? Why did I have to be here, all alone?

I threw the bow back down at the ground, holding myself tightly with my other arm.

The platform suddenly shifted from a mirror-like surface to a dark, glassy one. Around the edges of the platform, shadows flared up. I jumped in surprise. What was happening now?!

After a few seconds, the shadows dissipated for the most part, revealing a wide variety of Pokemon on the edges of the platform, all seemingly unconscious, and surrounded by a wavering shadowy aura. I wasn’t alone anymore.

Oddly, there didn't seem to be any Water-types.

A single paper had appeared in the center of the platform. I hesitated, before going over to it, and reading it. I gawked as I processed the message. "Rescue one," it read. Rescue from what?! Those shadows? Why only one?! This didn't make any sense! I grabbed the paper, crumpled it, and threw it. "What's going on?!" I yelled, as I looked towards the many-colored sky.

"What...happened?" I heard a voice to the left. I quickly turned in the direction of it, only to find one of the Pokemon, a Chikorita, starting to wake up, the shadowy aura around it dissipating. The crumpled-up paper was next to it.

Did I accidentally hit it with the paper?

Suddenly, I realized something. All the other Pokemon on the platform had disappeared. Where did they go?!

Wait a minute, was that voice the Chikorita?! No, it couldn't be. Pokemon couldn't talk. Well, there was that one Meowth that was on the news once, but that was just one Pokemon...right?

I began to approach the Chikorita, only for it to open its mouth and...actually speak. "Who...are you?" it said. I froze in complete shock. What was happening?! Nothing here made any sense!

The Chikorita stood fully up, only for my vision to be obscured by a flash of light. Once I could see again, the Chikorita was frozen in place, mouth agape. Did something happen to it?

I walked over to it, and once I was next to it, I noticed the platform start to shift again.

The dark, glassy surface of the platform once more became mirror-like. The Chikorita near me still seemed to be frozen in shock after whatever happened to it. I could see blurry reflections of that Oshawott, the Chikorita, and...something else.

I looked up. I barely had time to scream.

A massive hand was reaching down for us. Pink and black, coming from a spiral high in the sky.

I grabbed the Chikorita and ran to the edge of the platform, hoping to avoid it, only for it to smash into the platform, completely shattering it.

As the platform broke apart, and we fell into the abyss, I could hear my own screams, as well as many more.

#pmd #pmd fanfic #fanfiction #pmd eternal shadows #fanfic #pmd fanfiction

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tikki-puttin-down-words · 1 year

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Chapter 7: The Star-reach Guild

Don’t have chapter art for this one but any time I do I’ll make sure to put it with the post here! Catching up on past chapters I forgot to post here lol https://archiveofourown.org/works/39115641/chapters/104688039 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14127683/7/Pokemon-Mystery-Dungeon-Dreamwalker

#pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #dreamwalker chapter updates #idk what else to put lol

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crime-bot · 11 months

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Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, sort of.. it takes place in the PMD universe, and I want to throw in some canonical characters/concepts because they're Great Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: OCs, OCs galore but really they're just Characters at this point, Dea (OC), Riolu (Pokemon) Summary:

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon, but the person that gets thrown there is an adult, competent, and flawed but means well among other things. Riolu needs an Arceus-damned family.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction

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shannadreamgoddess · 11 months

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Poke'mon Mystery Dungeon: Fire and Stone - Chapter 3: That First Warm Touch

Adelaide wakes up from her fainting spell, just in time to spend her first night out in the city of Arceliaze.

But not from the position of nobility.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46759588/chapters/118533634

Website: https://www.shannadreamgoddess.com/stories/pmd-fire-and-stone

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfiction #pmd #pokemon #fanfiction #fire & stone #Chapter Announcement

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bowsers-keep · 5 months

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Stars of Fate Chapter 1 - Town

Masterpost Link - Next >

Scuro and Sejo head into a small village

It had been a few months since Scuro and Sejo started traveling together, the two had gotten along just fine despite how their personalities seemed to differ. While Sejo was out enjoying the world as this was their first time truly being able to explore it without someone looking over her shoulder, Scuro seemed more hesitant to interact with other Pokemon. Sejo always tried to get his companion to come along and do stuff with her, but it only works whenever the Zoroark/Blastoise hybrid is in a good mood. Even with that it never stopped Sejo from trying.

On this particular day, Sejo had noticed that they were near a small village. This would be a good chance to get more supplies and figure out where they are. Sejo of course had woken up bright and early and began her morning routine of doing a quick patrol around the campsite, getting the food started on, making sure nothing was stolen the previous night, and prepping himself to go off into town. Scuro had woken up during the “prepare to go into town” step of Sejo’s routine, and already knew what she’d be in for.

Getting up Scuro went over to the fire where some porridge was being made, taste testing it proved that it wasn’t terrible which was good enough for her, the Arcanine/Jirachi hybrid was consistent with the quality of his food if anything. After that Scuro then turned to her friend, as they were clearly wanting to say something.

“So where are you headed after breakfast?”, Scuro asked with a sigh.

“The nearby village! Thought we could restock our supplies there since it’s been a while since we’ve seen a town!”, Sejo replied happily.

“We have been running low on rations…”, Scuro replied putting a claw to her chin.

“Cool! Wanna come?”, Sejo askes with a sparkle in his eyes and tail wagging happily.

Scuro felt bad for rejecting to come with him on his excursions the past few times, so might as well give into what he wants for today.

“Sure, lets eat first however.”, Scuro replied as she set down two bowls and grabbed a spoon to pour the porridge into the bowls.

Sejo sat down near Scuro and waited for Scuro to pour the porridge into a bowl because using a spoon with paws is hard, they already had to do it every time she started making it. After that however Sejo began enjoying his food, how her scarf never got ruined by eating this way is something Scuro is still baffled by. Still they enjoyed the food together before Scuro began packing up some stuff to head off as well.

The Zoroark set up an illusion over their camp to disguise it as a normal patch of trees, ensuring it looked too tightly packed for anyone to reasonably go through, but not enough to draw suspicion. After that, the duo were ready to head off into the town.

It was a small village, but it had all the essentials from the looks of it, plus not that many people which Scuro enjoyed since it meant less social interaction for her. Sejo had already found the market and proceeded to drag her along to it, no Kecleon Mart in town but hey local businesses usually have better prices.

Everything was going smoothly for the two, they managed to find everything they need, got some directions and tips from the locals, and were off getting some food from a small café in town. Scuro simply enjoyed this moment of peace as she nibbled on her food.

“So where are we headed next?”, Sejo asked in between bites.

“Best path forward is to make a stop in a border town in Evedor that’s hopefully out of the range of their current conflict before making way to Icelia.”, Scuro replied setting out a map as she traced her claw dipped with ink across the indicated route.

Usually she wouldn’t do that but visual aids always helped Sejo out, plus there was a bucket of water nearby that looked unused. Sejo looked at the map examining the route to make sure she understood where they were heading.

“What if the Evedor town is though?”, Sejo asked as they tilted their head.

“I’ll scout out the area pretending to be a normal Zoroark, if they are then we’ll book it. I picked up extra rations and supplies for that exact reason.”, Scuro replied dipping her finger into the bucket before shaking her claw to remove the ink.

“Ohhhhh that’s why. Well sounds like a solid plan to me!”, Sejo replied before going make to simply enjoying his food.

Scuro smiles and rolls the map back up before going back to her own meal. She hoped the extra supplies would be enough to last them in the worst-case scenario that the future town would be participating in Evedor’s current civil war or whatever was going on there, it didn’t concern her or Sejo just yet so she intends to make sure neither of them gets involved before they have too. Scuro just wanted a bit of peace right now, even if it seems like it wasn’t coming any time soon because that sure was a scream coming from somewhere.

#pmd stars of fate #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #pokemon #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfiction #pmd fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fanfic #writing tag lololol

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teeterarting · 8 months

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My human, not yours

#undertale #undertale fanart #flowey #frisk #flowisk #frisk the human #flowey x frisk #Teeter art #2023 #Undertale fanart? in MY pmd/pkmn focused acc? it's more likely than you think #i recalled a super good fanfiction today it's called “The Quiet Life” on AO3. good stuff

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s0upjuice · 3 months

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new delivery of light chapter out on ao3 and pmdfanfiction, here are some featured characters!

Click here to read

Wise Guy- mochi salesmon

Big Fella- mochi salesmon

Pretty Boy- mochi salesmon

Ponkan- special agent

#pokemon #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #mystery dungeon #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ocs #original characters #munkidori #okidogi #fezandipiti #ogerpon #delivery of light

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acti-nerdington · 5 months

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon story where it plays out like a typical plot, you're a human that's been turned into a Pokemon and you have amnesia, but over the course of the plot, you slowly start to remember things about your human life, that you had come to the Pokemon world to stop some kind of catastrophe. You learn more about all the specifics of how to prevent this catastrophe, you and your partner go all around the world trying to make things right, but instead of saving the world, it actually invokes the catastrophe you were trying to prevent. Then, the twist is that you were never a human at all. Everything you've remembered up to this point are all false memories implanted in your mind by the antagonist, hoping they'd end up goading you into causing the disaster to procure their victory.

#pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #might make this the premise of a future fanfiction or smth i like this concept a lot

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sincerely-sofie · 4 months

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Dadnoir Musings: The Fanfic

Lord help me I’m back on my nonsense. Finally making this monstrosity public.

Word count: 6,930-ish

Summary: Fragments of Dusknoir’s interactions with and thoughts on Kip and Twig (especially Twig) throughout the events of the game, leading up into the start of The Present is a Gift.

It was meant to be simple. He would travel back through a passage of time alone, the sableye making the journey separately to spread rumors of a renowned explorer before he'd quietly enter the areas that were handfed awe-inspiring stories of his exploits. He'd do a number of good deeds along the way to validate the rumors, and in doing so he would gain the loyalty and aid of an entire population in tracking down the grovyle and human that had gotten dangerously close to securing another time gear before vanishing entirely after their retreat.

He had heard reports of the grovyle being sighted in this time period. It was good news, certainly, to have reliable sources verify one another— but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he had at the reports. They always identified the grovyle, but never the human. Easily the most stand-out member of the trio of rebels— even moreso than the Legend in their ranks— and suddenly the only one unaccounted for. He didn't know much about humans and how hardy they were, but the grovyle’s habit of whirling her out of reach of whatever strikes were sent her way implied a distinct fragility— perhaps she'd been disposed of in the window of time that they'd lost track of the rebels.

He hoped that was the case. Everything would be so much simpler if it was. Still, he instructed the scouts to search more diligently for the human. He wasn't foolish enough to hope for much of anything anymore, and the fact that he found himself clinging to the idea of not having to execute the human himself left him wary.

Something wasn't right.

He entered the lively settlement of Treasure Town with a sense of dread weighing heavy on his shoulders.

***

His cover story gave him a particular level of sway over the local exploration guild. Not only did they eat up every word he said with an unmatched trustingness, they provided access to their outlaw reports and records of suspicious activity. There he was— the troublesome grovyle was reported enough times to give an area he was likely frequenting, but not an indication of his next move or where he'd hide away after brushes with danger. Dusknoir needed to wait and gather more information. The grovyle was rash— it wouldn't be long before he showed his hand.

In the meantime, Dusknoir would continue building Treasure Town’s trust in him.

That didn't prove very difficult. The townsfolk were exceptionally welcoming. They bore no doubt in his cover story. The Guild’s recruits were almost sycophantic in their hero worship, as were their elite, save for a team of two— and even then, the team that seemed wary of him appeared more cautious out of nerves than actual suspicion.

They were a young pair of recruits— much younger than the rest of their peers. Where the other recruits seemed at least well on their way to entering adulthood, these two were evidently the youngest apprentices in guild history. Team Venture was composed of a timid but eager mudkip and an odd charmander who seemed completely flabbergasted by basic social customs.

Kip was endearing in his overzealous enthusiasm— his excitement whenever Dusknoir interacted with him and his partner was palpable, and he introduced himself by name almost immediately upon meeting him. Another indicator of the two’s youth, then— he was so young he didn't quite grasp the finer details of when and where you should give your name. One might find the misstep offensive, but Dusknoir was flattered by the boy considering him such a close friend.

The charmander didn't give him a name. In truth, she didn't give him much of anything— she hung back when Kip and Dusknoir spoke, never really saying anything, just watching him with a confused look like she was trying to remember something long lost to time. She was a studious character— Kip didn't attend many of the workshops the Guild put on, but Charmander arrived early to and left late from every last one.

“She wasn't the one to ask to form a team together— honestly, she kind of rejected the idea at first,” Kip admitted to him while waiting for his partner to return from one such event, “but I think that now she likes exploring even more than I do!”

“Funny how things play out like that,” he replied.

“She's amazing. I'm so lucky to have met her. She's my best friend.”

He watched as the mudkip fidgeted happily with his scarf, a slight blush on his face. Ah. Definitely a bit of lilipuppy love on his end. He couldn't help his chuckle. “And how did you two meet?”

“Oh— um. She was passed out on the beach one day, but I thought she was dead when I found her and I— uh— I screamed so loud she woke up,” he stammered. “It wasn't a very cool way to meet, but I'm glad I got to meet her at all.”

“I'm sure any would react as you did were they to stumble upon a possible corpse.” His brow furrowed. “Why was she passed out on the beach in the first place?”

“She doesn't know. She's got amnesia, if you haven't heard— she doesn't remember anything about herself before waking up on the beach. Well, anything but her name and how she used to be a human.”

“What?”

Kip startled at the sharpness of his tone. “She… she doesn't remember anything but her name, and how she used to be a human? Is everything okay, Dusknoir, sir?”

It couldn't be. This was a coincidence. He hoped desperately that it was a coincidence. If there was a human in the time he had traveled from, then there surely had to be humans in the time preceding it. This was another human, unrelated to the one that had evaded detection for the last year or so. It was a simple coincidence.

Kip watched him nervously.

“Apologies, I… I was simply caught off guard. Humans turning into pokemon is a concept that I thought was only the stuff of fairy tales. That combined with humans having been long extinct makes your story seem a bit peculiar.”

“Oh! Yeah, it does seem strange, doesn't it? I don't know if she's misremembering or not, but she's pretty intent on how she wasn't a charmander before waking up on the beach. She took a while to learn how to walk, though, and she doesn't know how to control fire like a normal charmander— so it makes me feel like she's telling the truth.”

Dusknoir hummed, lost in thought. Kip ran off to greet his partner when she exited the meeting hall for whatever seminar was put on that week, and she caught him in a hug and showed him a stack of notes she'd taken during the seminar. Kip stifled a laugh as he looked over the pages— Charmander demanded he tell her what was so funny, and he meekly explained that her spelling was even worse than her handwriting.

“Dude! Not cool! I didn't even know how to read any of this stuff last year. I'd like to see you write a paper in English after barely getting any time to learn it!”

They wandered off, chattering all the way, leaving Dusknoir to recall the mannerisms of the human who had all but dropped off the face of the planet and recognize their echoes in the child resting her hand over her friend’s shoulders as they walked to the guild dorms.

It was a coincidence. Simply that.

(The thought that the human he'd been trying to… dispatch for so many years was only as old as Charmander sat like a block of ice in his belly.)

***

He tried to get more information on this mysterious recruit, and his efforts to find any background beyond when she first arrived at the Guild yielded nothing. It was as if Charmander never existed before appearing on that beach— no records of her prior residence, birth, or heritage were to be found— no one had ever even known she existed before Kip brought her into town. He wondered if it was a conspiracy between them— that the girl was playing dumb and the boy was lying to cover up what he knew— but couldn't place any stock in the theory. Kip was as guileless as they come, and he had seen Charmander attempt to hide surprises from her partner— she was an atrocious liar. They were genuine in their cluelessness.

He learned more that personified the child than he would have liked while posing faux-idle questions to the townsfolk.

(“That lil’ charmander girl is the sweetest thing. She's got the etiquette sense of an overturned stump, make no mistake, but she means no harm by it, y’hear? Keeps coming by to my storehouse to hide presents for her friends— asked for a second lockbox and everything so her partner wouldn't know she was collecting up his favorite things to give him later on.” The woman laughed. “She loves playing with my little one, too— it's the funniest thing, seeing her try to play with her. It's like she thinks she's made of glass. I keep telling Charmander she can be a bit rougher, but she still treats the girl so gingerly!”)

(“Ah! Charmander, you say? Yes, yes, she's quite the character. Loves wordplay, that one. Sharp mind, if a little dense at times. Always asking about the finer points of merchantry. If she weren't already apprenticed at the Guild, we'd consider taking her on ourselves!” A pause as his brother interjected with his own comment. “Ah! I'd forgotten about that. She's made such a habit of paying for those two’s groceries. She's always so mischievous about it— almost treats it like a prank. Keep in mind she's never told those boys or their mother who keeps paying for their things, and she's sworn us to secrecy about it— you'll not tell a soul either, yes?”)

(“Charmander is… well, she's one of our most promising recruits, alongside her partner. I've had my misgivings— those two have shown their immaturity at the worst of times, to the point of near disaster, mind you! If it weren't for Team Skull, I shudder to think of what would have happened… But they've got good hearts. Charmander started out one of the worst-performing recruits in the Guild’s history, but she's made leaps and bounds of progress. It's easier to look past her age when you see the stacks of pages of notes and research she produces— though it's significantly harder when you see the severity of her spelling! She gave me a paper where she'd listed several questions about expedition protocol, once, and I was appalled by the sight!” A nervous flutter of wings. “Everything she writes is phonetic! Horrifically so! Her handwriting is no better. It's to the point I've debated calling on a tutor to stay at the Guild for a time to provide lessons. I shudder to think of a recruit ever rising to the point she and her partner have with such deplorable writing skills. Should I ever meet her parents, I have strong words to give on the importance of education!”)

It was a coincidence. It had to be. She was a former human who had arrived in town at the same time that the fugitive human had disappeared, but that wasn't enough to be incriminating. He didn't want to think about the alternative. In his questioning the townsfolk, all he learned was how utterly normal this child was— how she had the same quirks and charms as any youth would, despite her constant efforts to seem mature and keep up with her older peers.

She and her partner asked him if he, in all his travels, knew about the cause of her dizzy spells and visions. There it was— the Dimensional Scream, and another nail in Charmander’s coffin.

It had to be a coincidence. If it wasn't, then this child's blood would need to stain his hands if he wanted to continue on himself, and he was starting to doubt how much he wanted to live a life with that fact haunting him.

It would have been easier if it was just death he was facing. He could handle the thought of dying, grim as it was. But he faced no simple looming threat of death, but one of complete and utter erasure from existence— if the grovyle succeeded, it would be as if he never lived in the first place. The same fate would be dealt to Charmander. If the existential terror wasn't enough, Dialga’s visceral descriptions of what erasure felt like were unsettlingly vivid. Dusknoir would simply have to remind himself that an execution would be swifter, less painful— even, in a twisted way, more merciful than what Grovyle was so resolutely seeking.

She wouldn't suffer, and he wouldn't be stricken from all of time and space. It would be a twofold victory, grim as it was— if it ever came to that. He didn't even know if this was the exact same human who could discern Dimensional Screams. All signs pointed to her, but if he refrained from learning anything more, he could claim ignorance. He could leave her in this time and simply dispose of the grovyle, and she would remain as she was, blissfully unaware of her origins.

He just had to stop asking questions. That's all he had to do.

Charmander came up to him one day with a newfound hesitancy in her posture. “Hey, so— I really appreciate you telling me about the Scream a while back. And how you came to help me and Kip when the Manectric Tribe came along, and you scaring off Team Skull, and all that, too.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“I don't really get Pokemon stuff, but I know names are pretty important, like, as a trust thing.”

“That they are.” Don't. I don't want to hear—

“So I figured I could give you mine? As a symbol of, like, gratitude or whatever.”

“There’s no need.” Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it, don't tell me anything, I don't want to know—

“Nah, I don't mind.” She smiled widely, puffed out her chest, set her fists on her hips. “It's Twig! Nice to meet you, or whatever you're supposed to say when you… um…” Her prideful posture fell, giving way to concern. “What's with the face? Sorry if I messed that up, I don't really know how things are supposed to— I just thought…”

Of course. Of course he was wrong to hope. When was he ever right to cling to such things? It was her, and he'd known it all along, but he stubbornly refused to accept it.

“I'm sorry, man. You don't have to look so upset.”

“Whatever would give you that idea?”

“You're crossing your arms to hide the fact you're frowning.” She furrowed her brow. “I'm not stupid, Dusknoir.”

You are, though. You're so, so foolish, and you don't even realize it. I could have moved on from here without ever confirming who you were, and you ruined it.

“Apologies,” he murmured tersely. “I'm just a tad overcome. I need a moment.”

“Oh. Yeah, no worries.” She awkwardly reached out and patted the back of his hand as she passed. “I’m gonna go and… I dunno, do some sentry duty. Sorry again if I messed stuff up.”

You should be. You did. Legends and Life, you'll regret this even more than I do when the time comes.

***

It was rather jarring to see the same human that Grovyle had been so determined to keep out of harm’s way laid so low by his own hand. Dusknoir’s appearance at Crystal Cave sent the fugitive packing, and he was left to tend to an injured Team Venture.

Twig shoved his hands away as he assessed the damage. “Don't! Don't, I'm fine— Help Kip! He's— I don't know if he's going to…” Her voice broke, and his heart followed suit at the pitiful sound. “Please. You've got to help him.”

It took a moment to locate the mudkip in question— Twig had evidently been making efforts to lead the fight away from where he had collapsed behind a large stalagmite, unconscious.

He had seen injuries, he had seen gore— but he had never seen so much of them on such a small body.

Twig wasn't overreacting in her fear of whether or not her friend would survive their encounter with Grovyle.

He knew enough first-aid to ensure Kip didn't bleed out in the moment, but lacked the supplies necessary to do much else. Twig was bundling Kip up in her arms before he admitted as much to himself, starting the trek out of the mystery dungeon on shaking legs— and only managed several strides before falling to her knees with a pained groan. She didn't protest when he lifted her into his own arms and resumed the journey with more haste than she could muster in her state— only curled tightly around her partner, to the point that her tail brushed her jaw, promising over and over again that he would be okay.

***

Chimecho received the two recruits and administered the care that Dusknoir was unable to provide, ushering him out of the room so she would have room to work in the cramped Guild infirmary. Left in the silence of the main floor alongside the unsettled guild members who had gathered together when they learned of Team Venture’s state, he found himself standing before the infirmary door, numb. Slowly, the guild members dispersed, the quiet tension in the air left unbroken as they awaited news of their friends’ fates. Chatot remained, noisy in his silence as he alternated between pacing and leafing through paperwork that he never gave more than a few moments of attention at a time. Dusknoir eventually had the sense to seat himself a ways away from the infirmary door and began sifting through the events of the last few hours.

He hadn't pursued Grovyle. He had the opportunity to corner the fugitive— there were a number of dead ends in Crystal Cave, any of which he could have driven him into and had the upper hand in a confrontation where he might capture him— and he didn't take it. He squandered the perfect chance to finally do away with the greatest thorn in his side in favor of assisting another of the trio he'd been tasked with dispatching. He could only hope that Dialga didn't learn of his misstep— there would be hell to pay if he did.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Chatot’s startled squawk as he shot over to the infirmary door when Twig stepped onto the threshold, though not fully through, heavily bandaged and with a pronounced limp. “What are you doing up and about?! You need to remain in the infirmary until you've been given a clean bill of health! I won't have you running about jeopardizing yourself— think of— think of what horrors that would do for the Guild’s image! Get back in there immediately!”

Twig gave him a weary glare. “I'm not going to sit around and watch while Chimecho stitches Kip back into one piece. Move over, man.”

Chatot opened his beak to protest once more, but froze upon glancing over Twig's shoulder— catching an eyeful of Kip’s injuries, judging by the way his feathers flattened against his body in fear. “A-Alright, just this once, then. But sit down! You look faint. I don't want to have you falling and giving yourself a concussion on top of all this!”

“Pretty sure I already have a concussion, Chatot. I also can't sit down unless you let me through the doorway.”

Chatot complied, fretting over her until she laid down on the floor and set her legs up against the wall to combat her supposed faintness that Chatot was so worried about. “Dusknoir, I'm dreadfully sorry, but please keep watch over this recruit for a moment. Chimecho will no doubt need more material for sutures shortly— I must seek supplies in town.” He didn't wait for a response, simply shot up the ladder leading out of the guild in a flurry of wings and panic, leaving Dusknoir and Twig in an vacant chamber.

She closed her eyes, falling so still that she seemed to be asleep. Recalling her mentioning a concussion, he reached over to rouse her— but her sudden words made him freeze with his hand outstretched.

“Chimecho doesn't know if he's gonna make it.”

He couldn't muster a response to that.

“You’ve— you've been around, you know lots of stuff. You've probably seen injuries way worse than those. Kip’s— he's gonna be okay, right?” He watched as she opened her eyes, fixing him with a teary stare as she waited for an answer. “... Right?”

He couldn't look at her. “His injuries are severe,” he finally murmured.

She turned to stare at the ceiling. He did his best to ignore the way her breaths stuttered and hitched, turning into quiet hiccups and whines as she rolled over and shifted to press her back against the wall and cry into her knees. Distantly, he wondered how she managed to cry so quietly, even when every whisper of a sob shook her entire frame with its intensity. He intently avoided pondering what had motivated her to develop such a skill.

It wasn't easy to ignore an injured, distraught child weeping only an arms-length away from him. He found himself unwillingly reminded of the sableye when he first took them in— Twig's situation was different, but the end result was almost the same— a child left adrift and frightened in the face of tragedy. Where the sableye had each other, though, Twig was left to weep without five siblings to answer the slightest whimper with unflinching support. Her partner— her only true friend amongst the Guild, from the sound of things— was on death's door, unable to come to her aid and offer the same words of comfort she had repeated to him as Dusknoir brought the two back to the Guild.

Despite himself, he reached out and set his hand over her back. She stiffened under his palm, and he nearly pulled away, but she caught hold of his thumb on her shoulder and held his hand in place. Her tears continued. He didn't say anything when she curled up tighter and her sobs picked up in volume, too startled by the memory of one of the recruits describing something to him.

(“Twig really doesn't like being touched. Not most times, at least! One time I patted her on the back because she beat my best sentry duty record, and she whirled around and almost took off one of my petals! Like, oh my gosh, I totally freaked! Kip said that she barely lets anyone touch her— you've got to be a real close buddy for her to be okay with it, or else it really freaks her out— but I didn't think it was that bad! Eek!”)

He kept his gaze fixed on the opposite wall and tried not to think about how she felt bonier under his hand than one so young had any right to be.

***

Kip survived, adorned with a number of scars that would remain for all his remaining days as a mudkip. Twig was glued to his side during the days in which he was allowed to exit the infirmary and rest in the dorms, and she became his crutch whenever he struggled to walk about the Guild to build his strength back up after so long being bedridden. The other recruits flocked around the two and made their concern known, offering to help with anything they needed as they recovered.

Kip asked for help checking a particular book out of the Guild library and sending word to Chimecho that the numbing agent was working a bit too well, and that he couldn't feel the fin on his head whatsoever. Twig didn't ask for anything— suddenly every bit as stoney, stern, and stoic as Grovyle had appeared in confrontations once they were separated— and said little over the following days. When one recruit waddled up to her after a workshop with carefully written notes and an apology for how he couldn't write as many pages as she always did on account of how fast the lecturer spoke and how slow his paws were, though, she pulled him into a hug that he meekly returned.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“Aw, shucks, it's really nothing! Don't mind it at all. I know how much you love those workshops. Me, though, I was lost as soon as the lecturer flipped the first page on her big ol’ chart thingy! You mind explaining how traps form in a mystery dungeon? She kept saying that it was important to know for this workshop, but I didn't go during the one where it was taught.”

She launched into a lecture of her own, more animated than he had seen her since her encounter with Grovyle, and Dusknoir was tempted to applaud the young man for so cleverly distracting her from her wounds.

***

With a trap laid for Grovyle, Dusknoir watched for the right moment to spring it. It didn't take long— the fugitive was gullible and impatient, a dangerous combination of traits that ensured Dusknoir wasn't left waiting for long.

Grovyle was secured— albeit perhaps roughed up a tad more than was totally necessary to capture him— and that meant he had to resolve the other loose end before he departed for his home era.

He called Team Venture forward, out from the back of the crowd where they always lingered. He only had to bring Twig closer, but to summon her alone would raise suspicions at this most critical of moments. She was slow to come up to the front of the crowd and made her way there leaning heavily on her partner when she finally appeared. Evidently, her refusal to rest and recover from her injuries had backfired, leaving her in a worse state than Kip was despite her having the lesser wounds at the beginning.

He only needed her. He could leave Kip behind and have a single child’s death weighing on him for eternity instead of two, if only they would stop clinging to each other for one measly second. He gave a speech describing his gratitude, waiting for the moment when she would shift her weight off of his side and onto her own two feet so he could grab her and be off— and there it was. He seized her in a hand and shot back into the passage of time, realizing too late that Kip was dragged along by her fistful of his scarf.

Great. Of course.

He caught hold of the boy when Twig’s own grip came loose and cursed whatever Legends were watching and no doubt laughing at his luck.

***

He really should have expected Grovyle would have another trick lying in wait before the execution. He'd hoped that Kip and Twig at least would remain unconscious for the act, but Grovyle's hissing and spitting curses his way roused them, and they were pulled along with his escape plan as a result. Dusknoir was going to kill him personally if things continued to sour thanks to him. When they had the three cornered— along with Celebi, even— he found himself possessed by the urge to twist the knife.

It was cruel to reveal Twig’s identity to Grovyle in order to stamp out any bit of resistance in him, but Dusknoir would be lying if he said it didn't give him some awful sense of catharsis to see the horrified guilt in his face— he finally realized just what he'd done by beating a child unconscious and nearly doing the same to a second one in Crystal Cave, and Dusknoir took a certain glee in his regret. Twig’s look of disgust at the reveal only drove the knife deeper. Good. He deserves it. He put out a hand and sent a shadow snaking along the ground, ready to take the wretch out—

— and Twig tackled Grovyle out of the way of the attack, putting herself in the range of the strike. He fumbled, dampening the worst of the blow before it hit her, but she still let out a sharp cry in response. Legends and Life, he would rather put the two youths out of their misery with something quick, but that was made difficult by their insistence to throw themselves in harm's way as living shields for the one target he wanted to suffer.

Fine, then. He reached out to snatch Kip up and snap his neck, but Twig surged into Dusknoir with such force she managed to throw him against a tree and lit a barrier of flame between them and her allies.

She kicked off of him, further dizzying him thanks to her using his eye as her chosen springboard, and landed ready to dash back to her group— but stopped short when she saw the long wall of fire between them.

(He'd never seen her use any sort of attack before that incorporated the flames she could manifest as a charmander— only ever using her fists, teeth, and even fallen branches to strike— and he suddenly recalled how he could count the hours at the Guild by how many times she'd let out a startled yelp when she'd see her own tail. Back then, he thought she'd simply never grown accustomed to an extra limb. It was with a bitter, weary laugh now that he realized she was afraid of fire.)

He reached out, hand outstretched to take her by the throat.

Kip sprang up from the ground that he had tunneled into and headbutted him hard, whirling around to douse the flames and shove his partner forward. “Come on, come on, we've got to get out of—!”

Grovyle snatched the girl up as he sprang for the passage of time, not even sparing her partner a second glance as he leveled Dusknoir with a deadly glare when he passed. Kip was only pulled along by Twig grabbing his scarf and pulling him into her arms as they darted into the passage of time, Celebi swiftly shuttering it and vanishing in a shimmer of air.

Lovely.

***

Grovyle hadn't told Twig what would happen to her if their efforts to restore Temporal Tower succeeded. Of all the things he'd done, this one failure to act was his most repulsive misdeed by far.

She was baffled by Dusknoir's question of whether she truly didn't fear erasure, looking to Grovyle for answers. He stuttered and stammered, resisting her request for the truth at first, and Dusknoir, for all his willingness to see his instructions to kill these two as just business a few seconds ago, concluded that it would be a lovely vacation to throttle Grovyle in particular.

One last attempt to dispatch Twig as kindly as he could was once again foiled— Grovyle passed on the burden of his mission to a child who just learned she was giving up her entire existence to change a future that was uncertain— and he forced Dusknoir into the passage of time.

***

Erasure was less painful than he expected. It was less like being ripped apart by every second he had lived and more like his very soul was slowly being brushed away, like he was falling asleep. Twig had gone through with her part, then. He hoped the event of her disappearance wasn't too frightening for her or Kip.

Dusknoir could feel himself slipping. He could barely summon the words as he asked, “Grovyle… My life… did it shine?”

Grovyle must have been just as exhausted as Dusknoir, but he smiled despite it. His hand shook as he reached out to grip his arm. His voice trembled with effort as he fought to speak. “Extraordinarily.”

It was a pitiful scrap of comfort— meaningless, really. But that simple response, combined with the sun rising behind the collapsed forms of his unlikely allies moved him to tears.

Okay. If this was how he was struck from all of time and space, it was okay. He would be able to accept it.

As dawn broke for the first time in decades gone uncounted, Dusknoir stopped clinging to the world about him, and let himself drift away completely.

***

To return to existence was unexpected. To be given a second chance at life by Dialga himself was even more unexpected. But perhaps most unexpected of all was how much he hated this bright future’s refusal to admit all of the terrors that had taken place on its soil.

Grovyle and Celebi felt similarly. The decision to immigrate to the Present was unanimous, heightened by Grovyle's late realization that if they'd been restored, Twig likely was as well— Celebi couldn't open a passage of time fast enough for his liking once the idea hit him, and he bolted through it the moment it was vaguely safe to traverse.

“… He's certainly eager to move in.”

“Dusknoir, dear, you know full well he's not leaping at the opportunity to pick out wallpaper.” She turned to the passage, face pensive. “It's been so long since I've seen them in this timeline… I'm almost afraid. How do I look? Are my antennae straight? Are my wings as dazzling as ever?”

He gave her a flat stare.

“You have no appreciation for beauty! Hmph!” She feigned anger for only a moment before glancing back at him, worried. “If you'd like a moment, Dusknoir, you can wait here and prepare yourself. I know you didn't part on the best of terms with our two little explorers.”

“I doubt they're very little anymore.”

“You're right! Oh my goodness, they must be full-grown by now… I'm going through, dear, but you come on out only when you're ready.”

He waited for a feeling of readiness to overtake him.

It never did.

All he could do was take a breath and enter the passage.

He was greeted by sunlight, dappled shadows, treetop canopies rustling overhead, and Twig's startled command for Kip to get behind her.

She was barely any taller, covered in scars he didn't remember her wearing when they last parted ways, and she had her fists balled up in front of her and ready to lash out the second he approached. Grovyle stepped forward and tried to explain, and her look of frightened fury gave way to confusion, then frustration.

“There's— No way. There's no way he did any of that. He's just trying to get our guards down again.” She cast a vicious glare his way. “What, was Primal Dialga a cover? Were you really working with Darkrai all along? Too bad, we beat your real boss months ago! Get out of here before I—”

Kip stepped forward, brushing aside his partner's threats with a smile. His words were sincere and simple. “I knew you were too nice to be faking it. All the times in Treasure Town, Amp Plains, Crystal Cave— I told you, Twig. C’mon, you owe me five-hundred poké!”

She sputtered for a moment as he simply held out a paw expectantly. She reached into her bag and begrudgingly slid a large coin into his waiting palm. He gave her a smug smile as Dusknoir looked between them.

“Do you two often bet on the intentions of those you meet?” He asked, unsettled by the well-practiced exchange.

“It’s a joke. Mostly. And we don't do it too much,” Kip answered.

He was scared to hear the answer he was certain he already knew. “And what started this routine between you?”

To his surprise, they didn't respond by pointing to him. Twig crossed her arms and murmured, surprisingly hesitant, “We got… um. Don't know if there's a specific word for it in Pokéspeak, but we thought we were talking to Cresselia, and it turned out it was very much not Cresselia that we were talking to. We started up the joke to deal with that.”

“A Cresselia that wasn't Cresselia— who would impersonate a Legend?”

Twig gave him a once-over, her suspiciousness giving way to exhaustion. “You know that Darkrai dude I mentioned a bit ago?”

The explanation that followed wasn't as horrifying as the manner in which it was told. Kip admitted his fears as he explained their subsequent clash with a Legend who masterminded Dialga's decay, but Twig dismissed hers. The blatant attempt to put on a brave face and minimize her own anxieties— anxieties which still clearly affected her, judging by the way she avoided eye contact and her tail’s flame fizzled and hissed while burning an anxious magenta— brought to mind a memory he'd almost forgotten.

(A bloody child shakily shoving helping hands aside, sobbing for him to ignore her wounds and tend to her partner. A refusal of aid in favor of assisting another.)

His hands curled into fists, and he looked away. Twig tensed and took a half-step closer to Kip, and the sight killed him.

***

Kip offered their motley trio a place in his and Twig's home as they searched for more permanent lodgings. They accepted, much to Twig's poorly hidden chagrin.

Everyone else had retired for the night— curled up in makeshift beds pulled haphazardly together out of blankets and pitiful amounts of straw insufficient for any real mattress. Grovyle snored loudly, sleeping deeply for perhaps the first time Dusknoir had ever been around to see, and Celebi had tucked herself tidily into her bed, breaths whistling lightly as she rested. Kip was doing the same a short distance away. Twig, meanwhile, sat at a table across the room, pretending to look over papers she must have read ten times each by now, glaring up at him every time she leafed through the stack anew.

The implication that she didn't trust him around her unconscious friends and had taken up watch to protect them wasn't lost on him.

She did this for multiple nights. She'd reached the point that she was nodding off in the daytime, exhausted by her nightly vigils, but she still kept them up. He had attempted to fake sleeping earlier in the night so she'd allow herself rest, but she remained awake even then— and so he swiftly gave up the ruse in favor of his typical pattern of sleep. Each evening, she'd take up her post at the table and start skimming papers with feigned interest, keeping an eye on his every move and tensing whenever he so much as twitched.

He deserved each terrified glower she gave him. His knowledge of his guilt didn't make it any easier to see one so young carrying the world on her shoulders.

She was grown now— likely nearing an evolution, if the reddish scales now dotting her skin meant anything— but she still had the eyes of a haunted child when the nights were long and her watch over her friends wore on her.

She finally slipped up one evening, her head settled on folded arms over the table’s surface, eyelids drifting closed until her breathing finally evened out and she fell asleep. He sighed with relief, but the reassurance that she'd finally get some rest was short-lived.

She flinched in her sleep, murmuring fearfully, fingers twitching against the tabletop she'd slumped over.

Uncertain of what to do, but called to help all the same, he rose and pulled a blanket from the meager sheets comprising her empty bed. She relaxed when he draped it over her, her hands no longer balling into fists and her tail’s flame glowing a warm, peaceful white instead of flickering between aggressive violets and panicked magentas.

She looked smaller as she slept— as if in her slumber she forgot to puff herself up and pretend she was self-assured and confident. She looked like a recruit too young to keep up with her older peers and too naive to understand the danger she threw herself readily into.

She looked like a child.

She looked like a child, but she'd never had the chance to truly be one. Between running for her life in the Dark Future, to taking on a schooling far too intensive for those her age, to waging battles with Legends and shouldering whatever trauma she'd garnered from all of it— she'd never been allowed such an opportunity.

(He was part of that. He was part of the reasons she'd never been able to grow up as a child should. He'd been part of the wretched selection of foes who robbed her of her youth.)

Dusknoir tugged the blanket higher around the girl's shoulders. She sighed a cozy, content sound, and he left for a late night walk.

He didn't mention the blanket come morning. She left it unspoken as well.

(She took a glance at her post the next evening and turned away, electing to sprawl out in her bed and snore almost loud enough to put Grovyle to shame.)

(It was a simple thing. Meaningless, really, and no great signifier of any faith that had been rebuilt. But it moved him near to tears regardless as she dropped off to sleep before any of the rest of them. She trusted them all to keep her safe and be safe in turn— and he was encircled in that trust.)

(It wasn't the unwavering faith of a child, but it was something, and it was something that meant the world.)

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saltnpepperbunny · 1 year

Text

Till World’s End- 2: Nine Days Remain

PREVIOUS: Ten Days Remain > NEXT: Eight Days Remain >

COVER

Till World’s End is rated Mature. Viewer discretion advised. Content Warnings listed on the Cover.

* * *

Selkie knew the routine.

Margarine the cutiefly fluttered up to her every morning in the mess hall, without fail. It was the price of breakfast: To get food, she had to deal with the bug’s incessant simpering. The constant, subtle tremble in its voice was a surefire way to set Selkie’s blood to a boil. To be fair, there were a small number of positives. It was a good opportunity for Selkie to practice her breathing exercises, her impulse control. And of course, money.

“Good morning, Selkie!” Margarine twittered. The cutiefly fluttered over the seat at the table to Selkie’s right. It had an oran berry in its little insect grip, probably all the breakfast such a tiny thing needed. Margarine set the oran berry down on the table and stuck its pointed nose into the flesh of the fruit, suckling for a few seconds before turning back to Selkie. “How are you doing this morning?”

“I’m fine,” Selkie lied. Stupid little thing. Please go away.

“Fine is fine! Fine is good.” Margarine said with a smile. It suckled its breakfast for another few seconds, then back to bothering Selkie. “I heard Shadow had a bad night. Is he okay?”

Ooh, hm. The conversation was suddenly interesting, if only slightly. Should she answer honestly or not? Answering honestly would betray weakness, the weakness of her unit, of her partner. But despite the advantage of its fairy-type over Shadow’s dark, Margarine was hardly a powerhouse. There was no immediate risk to telling the cutiefly the truth. However, a quick glance around the bustling mess hall reminded Selkie that Margarine was far from the only danger in this Guild. Stronger pokemon existed. Meaner pokemon existed. And Selkie had quite literally no faith in Margarine’s ability to keep a secret. All pokemon gossiped. All pokemon broke trust. Trusting Margarine to keep quiet on Shadow’s weakness was possibly the stupidest thing she could do. But on the other hand, Margarine had already heard about Shadow’s bad night. It wouldn’t be easy to craft a convincing cover-up on the spot like this. It was possible the entire Guild knew already; in fact, it was likely.

A snap of anger drifted through Selkie’s chest. Dammit. All pokemon sucked. Even her partner caused such awful problems for her. They were a team for Arceus’s sake; his weakness was her weakness! And goodness, was his weakness immense. She could still hear his screaming, see his thrashing, the wild panic in his eyes. It wasn’t his fault but dammit if it wasn’t fucking inconvenient—

“Selkie?”

“Shadow is fine,” Selkie lied. “He tends to recover quickly from nightmares. He’ll be at the morning briefing today.”

“I’m glad!” Margarine said with a bright grin. “It’s so worrisome that he gets nightmares so often. Almost every night lately, huh?”

Selkie felt her bones snapping. “Mhm.”

“Maybe he should see the Guild’s thera—”

“By the way, Margarine.” Selkie arranged herself for the next bit. Chin tucked just slightly, shoulders sagged, eyes drooped. She let out a little sigh. “I don’t think you’ve heard because I wouldn’t tell anyone but you. But… my grandmother’s getting worse.”

“Oh no…” Margarine breathed.

“Yeah,” Selkie sighed. She stared wistfully into the distance. “I went to visit her yesterday, b-but she didn’t even recognize me…”

Margarine’s lip quivered. “Oh, Selkie! I’m so sorry to hear that! That’s so hard.”

“It is…” Selkie lied. “I don’t know what to do anymore besides just… prepare for the worst… Her doctor won’t even look at her until I can scrounge together another few thousand poke. It’s so hard to make enough money as a gold-rank team. The Guild takes s-so much of our earnings, Shadow needs a psychiatrist, and I still have to feed my whole family back home…” She dropped her face into her flippers and shuddered. “I’m sorry. It’s just so hard.”

Selkie glanced up to see Margarine’s eyes had become wide and watery. It sure was something, the way emotions bounced from person to person, animal to animal like a contagion. Even Shadow was not immune to the effect, an observation that both surprised Selkie and not. The creatures of the world were locked together in a tango Selkie had never learned the steps to. Thank Arceus. She hated dancing.

She felt the softest tip tap of Margarine patting her with its little insect legs. “I’m sorry, Selkie! Here, let a fellow Guild recruit help you out.”

“I couldn’t possibly accept your generosity again—”

“I insist!”

And there it was. A white-gold coin, worth 2000 poke, produced from the cutiefly’s satchel and extended across the space between them. Selkie arranged her lips in a little smile. “Margarine… You’re so kind. Thank you.”

She took the coin from it gently with her flipper.

It took everything in Selkie not to bite Margarine in half when it flitted up and hugged her around the face. Obnoxious little thing, she hated those buzzing wings so much! “No problem! Some of us are in more fortunate circumstances than others. We gotta help each other out!” Margarine finally backed up and fluttered off from the table. “See you at the morning briefing, Selkie! Best wishes to your grandmother!”

Selkie watched it go, disappearing into the swathing crowd of pokemon in the hall. Finally, a bit of peace. She let the mask fall away, a rippled pool settling into stillness, and looked down at the coin in her flipper. A flick of her claw tossed it upward, and as she snatched it out of the air, she felt a subtle pressure in her chest she figured was maybe happiness. It would be logical, after all, to feel happy right now.

She finished breakfast without further interruption, and Selkie made her way out of the mess hall. She shuffled through the Guild’s corridors towards the main hall where the morning briefing would take place. Arceus, this briefing was going to be boring. It always was! The Guildmaster was likely going to speak on the expedition upcoming in several weeks’ time, but considering the timeline of the situation, there was no reason to give a damn about which teams would be selected for the trip. So, there was literally no point in listening to the Guildmaster drone on and on and on. How fucking agonizing! The boredom was a rot in her brain!

“Selkie!”

Her ears pricked. Selkie looked up to see, well, herself at the opposite side of the corridor. Thank Arceus it was just the two of them or this would’ve been problematic. Another popplio sat facing her, with her same spiky blue fur, same dull pink nose, same splash of white on its chest. The mirror image even had the same leather chains of fangs and canine teeth tied around its flippers, accessories Selkie couldn’t be caught dead without. The only difference between her and the doppelganger were the eyes. Selkie’s were a dull, dark brown, the color of a stagnant pond. Her reflection’s eyes were stormy, electric blue.

This was always a bizarre occurrence, to see herself wandering the tunnels of the underground Guild. She wouldn’t care at all if it weren’t for those eyes. They broadcast emotion like a beam into the sky. Within that stormy blue, she could see winds of glee, downpours of sadness, the blinding crack of anger. To see herself so… exposed… Her chest squeezed.

Selkie bared her teeth just enough to show the tips of her fangs. “Change back, Shadow! There can’t be two of us in one place!”

Her reflection blinked and sputtered. “O-o-oh! Right, sorry!”

The second popplio melted into a haze of gray, flickering like TV static, and then pulled back together into the image of Shadow. Ah. Much better. The dark gray zorua smiled sheepishly at her, eyes melting with love, and Selkie whipped her head away. What a ridiculous little creature. He was so shamelessly loving, so brazenly emotional, his eyes betrayed all. How he could dare to stand before her and not tremble with embarrassment was something Selkie never expected to be able to understand.

It was nice to see him again.

Shadow lifted his hind foot to scratch at the back of his ear. His claws clinked against the single, curved fang stuck through the bottom of his ear like an earring. “I don’t mean to cause problems for you, Selkie. I just—”

“I know. You get nervous,” Selkie shrugged. Shadow was a nervous little creature; aloneness terrified him. Selkie tried to be at his side whenever possible since her mere presence was like a thunder jacket for the zorua. When she couldn’t be, Shadow (with her permission) walked the Guild halls disguised as her, acting as her when he encountered other pokemon. Did Selkie find it a little unsettling? Yeah. Was that a logical reason to stop Shadow from comforting himself in that way? Not really. It was just unfortunate that she couldn’t look his illusion version of herself in the eye without feeling a rattle in her spine.

“I can stop if you mind—”

“I don’t mind,” Selkie affirmed. Because honestly, squeamishness aside, she didn’t. Shadow’s comfort was worth her own lack thereof.

She curved the corners of her lips up into a smile, since being happy would make sense right now. “Look!” She brought out the coin she’d earned at breakfast. “I got money to buy you a drink at the café later.”

Shadow’s eyes lit up like sunbeams. “Wow, thank you! Selkie, you’re the best!” The corners of his eyes crinkled softly, his impossibly fluffy tail swished to and fro. Oh, she hated to admit it, but what a victory that smile was. It was the satisfaction of a child feeding their pet goldeen, the soft, wistful glee of watering the plants in one’s garden. Tending to her own.

With a pressure in her chest that she figured must be happiness, Selkie lifted up a flipper and rubbed Shadow on the head. He giggled as she played with the tuft of fur on his crown. “Come on, Shadow. Let’s go to morning briefing,” she said, passing him by and shuffling down the hall.

“Okay!” He trotted behind her.

The tunnels got busier, packed with more and more pokemon as Selkie and Shadow approached the main hall. As they ducked and dodged through swaths of pokemon far larger than them both, Selkie held her chin high. The smile she’d offered Shadow had since faded; there would be no smiling here, not with the animals about. Show no weakness. She felt the eyes all around them, boring through her fur, trying to pierce the skin to look into her heart. Her eyes were stone. Her face, neutral. They would get nothing out of her. The water was still as ice.

With Selkie in front and Shadow in tow, they pushed their way through the crowd into the main hall. It was the largest space in the underground Guild; the concave ceiling stretched high overhead, splattered with navy blue paint and white speckles to represent the constellations. Selkie liked stars, but she didn’t know these constellations by heart. They weren’t her constellations. She’d learned them all once, she refused to do it again. The room sported an array of wooden bulletin boards covered in yellow fliers. If she concentrated hard, she could read the signs above them: Rescue Jobs, Exploration Jobs, Escort Missions, Service Jobs, Wanted Outlaws. But trying to decipher the pokemon’s footprint runes was a headache. Thank goodness she had Shadow to read things for her now because fuck that, honestly.

The main hall was always bustling with pokemon looking for jobs, returning from outings, or meeting with clients. But the morning briefing drew in crowds that packed the place like a can of fish. Shadow in tow, Selkie pushed her way to the front where the littlest pokemon stood, fixed her gaze on the closed double doors at the head of the hall, and waited.

Within a few moments, they swung open. A hush swept over the crowd like wind over grass, and Selkie felt in the ground the thud thud thuds of Guildmaster Kommo-o’s footsteps. The master of Spectrum Island Rescue Guild was a hulking beast that dwarfed most pokemon, with scars to boot and yellow eyes of gentle intensity. Its voice was deep as the core of the earth. Selkie knew this thing was on a whole other scale of power. That didn’t stop the itch to someday take it in a fight, hopefully before time was up. Oh, to imagine the thrill that would come from gouging out that thing’s throat…

“Good morning, my lovely recruits! It’s time for the morning briefing.” Kommo-o’s voice boomed through the hall. Its yellow eyes were melted caramels. “I know most of you are here for news of the upcoming expedition, but it’ll have to wait! I’m still in the process of finalizing the selections.”

Selkie let out a long huff. Lazy slowpoke.

“But I do have an exciting announcement this morning! Our Guild has a new recruit starting today. Come on out!”

Selkie’s eye twitched. She could not give less of a damn about new recruits. Maybe she’d go track the newbie down, cut its tail off with a pair of garden shears, and leave it on the Guildmaster’s doorstep for wasting her fucking time with this shit. She lifted her head to see what pokemon she’d hopefully be maiming later today, and out through the double doors came…

The instant their eyes met, Selkie’s heart dropped to the bottom of her chest.

It was a litten. Common pokemon in these parts, common species on tropical islands, but this one, uncommon as a star in a daylit sky. Nothing of its appearance betrayed its true nature. It had the same triangular ears, same black fur, same red stripes, same yellow eyes of any ordinary litten. But the instant it set foot in the room, she knew. How she knew, she had no idea, but there was no mistake. Nothing of this ilk could hide from Selkie. The heat of her body drained through the tips of her claws, and Selkie felt her mouth run dry as she remembered, for the first time in a long time, the sensation of fear.

The Guild’s new recruit was a human boy.

“Everyone, this is Lyn. He’ll be working alongside you from now on. Make sure to be welcoming!” As the Guildmaster spoke, the human-turned-litten scanned the crowd of pokemon with half-lidded, disinterested eyes. When Lyn’s gaze fell on Selkie, he blinked and frowned. Shit, had her facial expression betrayed her?! She shot the boy a ferocious snarl, and in response, he dropped his frown and moved on, feline face solidifying once again into mild indifference.

Oh. That was not the reaction she’d expected. Was this stupid creature not afraid? She thought him laughably foolish for a moment before realizing: Was he not afraid because… he’d seen her own fear? Had her face truly betrayed her? Selkie’s body started to tremble. Why was she trembling? She suddenly felt like she was going to cough something up. Why?! What was happening to her?!

“AUGH!” Selkie stormed from the main hall. She paced away down the corridor, her only goal to put as much distance between herself and the others as possible. Goddammit, goddammit! Was this what happened when she let her fear leak to the surface? Was she still just the stupid little girl who cried and cried and couldn’t stop crying? Who felt fear so strong it could devour her whole? No! She was stronger now, she was better, she was safer, she was powerful, or at least she was supposed to be. But now there was an enemy in the Guild and Selkie had immediately betrayed weakness to him. Stupid, stupid humans—

“Selkie!”

“Ack!”

She whipped around, teeth bared. Shadow flinched backwards, and Selkie barked, “For fuck’s sake, Shadow, don’t sneak up on me like that! What the hell’s wrong with you?!”

Shadow didn’t respond for a long moment. The little zorua was cowering. His lips quivered. His eyes started to glisten.

Fucking hell.

Fix it. She had to fix it, immediately, or the pathetic little thing would spiral into a meltdown. She’d made the mistake of not making immediate reparations before. She could not deal with Shadow’s shit right now if he spiraled.

“Shadow, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to lash out at you.” She shoved down the frustration of not being able to still the tremor in her voice. “You’re not the one who upset me. You just startled me. Are you okay?”

Shadow blinked at her. His lip continued to tremble, and the little thing sniffled. Selkie frowned. She didn’t like to see him like this. She didn’t like to be the reason he was like this. But she had to be patient and let her words do their work. Sometimes, it seemed like Shadow was slow to listen. Selkie could say I love you and watch the words sink into her partner in real time. The way his eyes would widen slightly, like you’d told him something new or that he’d never considered before. His ears would shift, his mouth would go just slightly agape. And slowly, the words would internalize. Selkie watched it happen now, here, in real time. And Shadow sniffled again and wiped the tears away. “Okay…”

Seeming to have collected himself, Shadow picked himself up off the ground and stretched towards her. His stormy eyes glistened with concern. “I was just so worried when you ran out of the briefing! Are you okay?”

Selkie hesitated. How to answer that question? There was very minimal risk in being honest with Shadow. Shadow was a weak little thing; he would die before using her weakness against her. But even still, the fear in her heart muzzled her. To answer honestly, to say no, I’m not okay was a wall even she did not have the power to climb. Weak little popplio. Weak little child. But even so, Shadow needed some of the truth. He was her partner. And trying to obscure this complicated mess would hurt her in the end. The thought of it made her want to cough up her entire stomach, but she was going to need—ugh—help.

“Shadow…” Selkie said. “That litten is a human.”

Shadow’s eyes stretched wide as saucers. His mouth fell open. “Wh-wh-what?”

“I sensed it the instant he walked into the room.”

“But how can that be?! You’re supposed to be the only—”

“Not so loud!” Selkie hissed, and Shadow clamped his jaw shut. She tried to give him a soft look so his sensitive soul wouldn’t take it to heart. She glanced around the corridor to make sure they were alone before continuing. “I don’t know how this can be. I’ve never met another human in this world. Everything was going perfectly! Why now of all times did another human have to…”

Shadow stared at her as she trailed off. “Selkie… Do you think the other human is here to save the world?”

Selkie grimaced. He’d read her mind. She hated when he did that. “… It’s… likely.”

Shadow’s ears pressed back. His tail started to thrash. Lightning lit his stormy eyes. “But he can’t do that! We’re so close! Selkie, we have to stop him somehow. He’s going to ruin everything!”

“I know!” Selkie growled. She felt a rattle in her lungs and forced herself to breathe calmly. In, out, in, out. Relax for fuck’s sake. “I know. I’m going to keep an eye on things. I’ll handle it. Okay, Shadow? I’ll handle it.”

“We’ll handle it.” Shadow took a step closer to her. Rain, thunder, and lightning danced in his eyes. They betrayed all. “Okay, Selkie? We’re… we’re gonna handle it together, okay? You’re not alone in this.” He stepped even closer, and Selkie let him gently lick the base of her ear. “You’re the hero, and I’m your partner. You’re not alone.”

Selkie stared at Shadow for what felt like forever. They were so close in physical space; his little breaths tickled her fur. If he was any other pokemon, Selkie would shove him away. If he was any other pokemon, he wouldn’t be he, but rather it, an animal, a thing. But Shadow wasn’t an animal. He wasn’t a thing.

He was another soul in the dark.

Selkie swallowed her spit. For such a weak, desperate creature, Shadow truly was an impossibility. Pokemon were its. Pokemon were things. And in her own world, humans gave her the same impression. They were resources to be used, obstacles to be dodged, hazards to be wary of. Most understood from birth that other humans were living beings with wants and wishes of their own, who could feel pain. A guidance counselor had to explain the concept to Selkie after she tried to smother another student with her winter jacket in the fourth grade. This was, apparently, the fundamental difference that made other humans “normal” and Selkie “broken.” Normal humans affiliated with each other, for no reason other than its own sake. Normal humans cared for each other, and for each other felt some kind of emotion called “love.” But how was she supposed to care when relationships ended in nothing but drained resources, wasted time, and a feeling of brokenness? She wasn’t dysfunctional. She was right. Humans were worth nothing, pokemon were worth nothing, and nothing—not even being transformed, transported across spacetime, and saddled with an impossible task—could convince Selkie otherwise.

Nothing, that was, until she met a broken, little zorua in a deep, gray cave.

What changed? Selkie still didn’t know. It terrified her not to know. But when she looked at Shadow, something stirred in her icy heart. Like his storm had whipped up her still waters, warm hurricane winds melted the glacier, and out from it came feelings she never thought herself capable of experiencing. Happiness. Liking. Affection, fucking affection. Maybe it was her possessiveness that bound her to Shadow, the feeling of MINE that struck whenever she looked at him. Even normal humans had pets, and those normal humans often preferred their pets remained safe and well-kempt. Maybe it was his obsessive devotion to her. Nothing made Selkie feel powerful like knowing that Shadow was completely within her control. A simple insult could drive the zorua to madness: she’d once told him she wasn’t fond of him just to see what he would do and later found him gouging himself on broken glass. Oh, the idea that she could make that happen, the power she had over Shadow was juicy. Megalomania was a hell of a drug.

But when she saw her little pup slashing his wrists, the result of her words, she felt bad. She’d slapped the broken bottle out of his paws, dragged him to their dorm, wrapped his gushing wounds in linens and moss and whatever she could find because for reasons she couldn’t explain, she didn’t want him to die. What was wrong with her? What was happening? What about Shadow made her smile when she thought of him? What about Shadow made her possessive and protective? What about Shadow made her allow him to inconvenience her, to drain her resources, to be real, the only real thing in all the worlds she’d ever walked?

The hardest part was knowing that deep down, Shadow had power over her, too. He was her partner. He was her exception. He was trustworthy, valuable, unique, qualities Selkie had never expected to find in a human, let alone a pokemon. Shadow had the power to not be an object in her eyes. He had the power to be real. In the only way she could truly manage, Selkie cared about Shadow. And that was scarier than the end of the world.

Was this love?

“I know I’m not alone. I have you,” Selkie said. She pushed her nose into his fur and licked his cheek. It did nothing for her, but she knew he loved it. Then, Selkie pushed past Shadow and stared back down the corridor towards the main hall, where within, the human awaited. It was hard to get invested in anything when she knew it would cease to matter in nine days. It was hard to stave off the boredom, the rot in her brain. But finally, the itch was scratched. Selkie wasn’t afraid. She was powerful, the most powerful creature in this world, and nothing was going to break the promise she and her partner made. Nothing would ruin their happy ending. And if the human Lyn had anything to say about it, he was welcome to meet Selkie’s wrath.

Arceus above. This was going to be interesting.

#pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pmd #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd till world's end #prose #literature #fanfic #popplio #zorua #fanfiction

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the-present-is-a-gift-au · 3 months

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Chapter 5: In Which a Nickname is Given

Over the following days, Twig swiftly learned that Darkrai was shockingly clingy. She would stand up from a spot she'd settled in and he would rise as well to follow her to her destination, and he would only leave whatever room she'd stepped into when she left it herself. With the fact that he'd politely turned down her offer to stay in the guest room, and Twig subsequently facing the options of either sleeping in a linen closet or keep sleeping in the main room where he'd set up shop, this was awful for her nerves. If she thought trying to sleep around Dusknoir the night the Future Trio returned was bad, trying to catch any winks with Darkrai in the room was infinitely worse. She kept jerking awake from nightmares, much to her bewilderment.

Didn't Darkrai lack his memories? Why would he send nightmares to torment her in the night when he had no reason to? She intended to confront him about it in the morning, but his level tone cut through the silence one evening after she bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath after a dream of being buried alive.

"Apologies," he said, monotone, clear, and deliberate. "I'm afraid I don't have much control over my… peculiarities."

She dragged a hand down her face. Yeah. Cool. Okay. She probably should have anticipated the fact that the guy who was once bent on throwing the world into eternal darkness had an aura of bad vibes that sent you spiraling into nightmares if you slept around him. It made sense in hindsight.

Speaking of hindsight, she should have thought up a cover story before now.

Darkrai clearly knew something was up with her. It took her forever to think up a false origin story for him, and her nervousness as she brainstormed all the details and tried to memorize them, keeping everything in her head and never daring to put them on paper, all made her look suspicious. She must look sketchy beyond belief as she wrung her hands and fidgeted in the corner across from Darkrai, glancing up every so often and then looking askance. But she finally had a cohesive narrative in mind, so she finally broke the news.

“We used to know each other,” Twig said over dinner one evening, “before you lost your memories.”

Darkrai looked up, but didn’t speak.

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, because, uh… well, it seemed like you didn’t mind not knowing? That was the sort of energy I got, at least!” She forced out a nervous chuckle. “But, um. I figured it’d kind of be a jerk move to keep it to myself, you know?”

He made no move to respond— just stared at her unblinkingly.

“You used to be a sort of traveling do-gooder. You’d go from place to place, and you’d help however you could. We crossed paths a couple of times when my exploration team was on expeditions.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. She fixed her gaze on the tabletop and continued, “What you did meant a lot for a lot of people. I know lots of folks wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for your help.”

He didn’t react— didn’t say anything, didn’t incline his head, didn’t even flinch at the supposed reveal of his past. He just sat there and stared at her. Did he know she was lying? Did he remember his past already and had caught her in her bluff? Was he going to kill her? Was he—

“Interesting,” he said, and went back to his meal.

She blinked, surprised. She wasn’t too confident in her skills at lying, but he wasn’t calling her on her bluff, not yet… Mission accomplished? Maybe? Hopefully?

***

Twig couldn’t hide away in her home for forever, much as she wanted to when faced with the thought of explaining her sudden multi-day absence from appearing in Verdant Village. But no matter how she would have loved to spend the rest of her life rotting in secret within the walls of her home, her lack of preparation for cooking for two meant the pantry was practically empty. She needed to go to the market and get some staple ingredients so that she wasn’t just roasting apple slices— and even those would be gone eventually, so she probably should just face the music and stop putting off the inevitable grocery run.

Darkrai, of course, made to follow her out the front door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” She asked, forcing a smile that wobbled far too much to be convincing.

“I believe a bit of fresh air would do me some good,” he answered.

He didn’t comment on the way her hands twitched around the strap of the shopping bag she’d slung over her shoulder or the way her smile wobbled even more. Twig had no idea whether that was a good or bad thing.

Twig bought everything on her shopping list in record time and managed to escape the market before it was even remotely crowded. Darkrai trailed after her in eerie silence, just a few feet away at any given time, and it was messing with her head to have him so close by. Her safety net of routines was already up in flames which meant that she was floundering emotionally, and having the guy behind roughly eighty-five percent of her collective neuroses practically attached to her hip was not helping. Thankfully, she was on the final stretch of road to reach her home, and she could enjoy the greater amount of space he offered when they were in the same room. She couldn’t wait to collapse into her bed, unwanted spectator be darned. She could make the excuse that she wasn’t good with crowds or something like that. Nevermind that the market barely had a handful of other shoppers while they were there— she was too tired to think up another reason.

But of course Gardevoir and Gallade had to be out in their front yard when they passed.

“Twig!” Gardevoir called from where she knelt in her garden. She dusted herself off and swept over to the roadside to meet her. “We haven’t seen you in quite some time. Are you alright?”

“Yep! Just peachy.” Please don’t let her notice that my smile isn’t reaching my eyes. Does that mean a charmeleon is faking their smile like it does for a human? Frick, fudge, heck— “I’ve just had some stuff come up that needed some attention.”

She hummed, then glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, pardon me, who is this fellow with you?”

Darkrai began to introduce himself, and it was in that moment that Twig processed two things— first, that your average pokemon wouldn’t recognize a Legend based on sight alone. They didn’t have photographs or really any sort of mass-produced images in wide circulation, if in circulation at all, which meant they didn’t have pictures of the physical manifestations of the functions of the universe handy. All of that was to say that Gardevoir didn’t recognize Darkrai. Yet. Because her second realization was that your average pokemon would absolutely know the names of any given Legend, which meant she needed to cover her tail, and fast.

“My name is D—”

“Ark! Ark. His name is Ark.” She could feel herself vibrating out of her own skin with nerves as all eyes turned to her. “He’s staying with me for a while. And, um, I’m sorry, but I need to get to my place to put away some groceries.”

“Oh!” Gardevoir nodded. “I’m very sorry for stalling you, Twig. Glad to have met you, Ark! I hope we see each other again soon.”

“Well met,” Darkrai replied, and had to swiftly pick up the pace to return to his place in Twig’s wake as she bolted to the house.

She didn’t speak as she stuffed all the groceries into their proper places in a linen closet-turned-pantry. But it eventually occurred to her that she should. “Sorry for butting in back there. Um. I forgot to say that everyone called you Ark. It was kind of your thing to not go by your species name.”

He loomed at the end of the hallway, his shadow blocking the light from the windows of the main room. The brightest light in the hallway was the chilly glow of his eyes as he silently picked apart her every move. She felt like she was being dissected with how he took in everything she did with a clinical gaze.

He hummed quietly. A noncommittal sound that didn’t indicate his thoughts whatsoever. “Interesting.”

Twig was going to have a heart attack one of these days, she knew it.

***

Twig broke out an old journal she had only ever used for kindling on rare occasions. It wasn’t often that she pulled it from its place on her nightstand— which was really more of a small floor table than the nightstand she had as a human— but she found herself needing its services as she woke up from another nightmare. Darkrai stared out the window from his place across the room, the picture of serenity despite the nightmare Twig had to claw her way out of seconds ago. Her resolve was wavering, and she needed to bolster it up fast. She scratched out a quick pair of lines with a piece of charcoal she kept at the journal’s side— one line long and vertical, dividing the page down its center, the second line closer to the top and horizontal. She scribbled out a pair of words in English in either of the topmost boxes she’d set apart. Darkrai couldn’t read English, could he? No pokemon she’d encountered could. She was in the clear— if he ever went snooping, he wouldn’t know she was writing out a pros and cons list on why she should or shouldn’t keep watch over him.

The pros for kicking him out and going about her life were numerous. She would actually sleep through the night once in a while, she wouldn’t have to constantly police what she said for fear of awakening the memory of some motivation for starting the literal apocalypse, and she could actually get some time to herself so she could cry in peace every now and then. There were a host of other pros, but those stood out as the most appealing right then.

The cons— or rather con, singular— meanwhile, outweighed everything she could summon. Stop another apocalypse before it happens made all those delightful reasons to give Darkrai the boot shine out in just how selfish they were. No, she wouldn’t let herself buckle in this. It was just one job. One thing for her to do to save the people she loved and the world at large. She could handle that. She had to handle that.

She felt tears prick at her eyes from how overwhelming it all was.

Darkrai cast a glance her way. He seemed nearly worried.

Twig snapped the journal closed and rolled over in bed, musing on how familiar it felt to write out the letters she had studied over and over as a human, even if her hand didn’t quite hold a pencil right any longer.

***

There was a knock at the door. Twig staggered out of bed to answer it.

“Hi Twig!” Lyra said, beaming. “Mom and Dad thought that you looked kinda sad the other day, and they said that they wanted to make you something nice, so they cooked a big pot of stew for you, and I helped a whole lot! I peeled the potatoes by myself. And I didn’t miss any peel-y bits. Dad said you don’t have to peel potatoes for stew, but I still did it because I don’t like peels, so you probably don’t either.”

The girl held out a large covered pot, little arms shaking with the effort. Twig caught it when it slipped from her hands. “Ah— careful! You don’t want to drop it.” She frowned. “Did your parents send you out to bring the pot here on your own? It’s pretty heavy.”

Lyra put her fists on her hips, puffing out her chest. “No, Dad said he would bring it on his way to get some firewood, but I said I wanted to do it! Did you see how strong I was? That pot is as big as my head, but I still carried it all the way to your house, and I didn’t spill a drop!”

Twig found herself smiling despite her exhaustion as she shifted her hold on the pot, noticing points where the broth had sloshed out on its journey here. Gosh, this kid’s enthusiasm was precious. “You didn’t, did you? Nice work, Lyra.”

“Who’s that? Is he your exploration team partner?” She gave a little gasp. “Is that Kip? Oh, wow, hi! I’m a big fan!”

Twig frowned, confused, and nearly dropped the pot herself when Darkrai’s voice sounded from directly behind her. “No, I’m not a partner of hers, nor am I named Kip. Though it would be fascinating to be on an exploration team, admittedly.”

Lyra chattered excitedly about how she wanted to be an explorer when she grew up, and Twig could barely hear the familiar rambling as she realized something. Kip. Oh, gosh, if he knew about Darkrai… Ever since the battle at Dark Crater, he’d gone from being scared of Darkrai to shaking at the very mention of his name. If he knew about her new roommate and the looming threat of Darkrai’s returning memories, his heart would give out on the spot. She’d sent him a letter recently, so she had time to figure out a cover story, but Arceus, she was not looking forward to the thought of him learning of Darkrai’s return.

Kip wouldn’t be on his expedition forever. Eventually, he’d come back to Treasure Town, and he’d want to know why Twig was so jumpy. He’d already started suspecting something was amiss when her memories returned and she was back to refusing hugs or handshakes from everyone but him, but he'd never confronted her on it. She didn’t want to think about how she’d juggle keeping both Darkrai and Kip from finding out about each other. She’d rather die.

She thanked Lyra again, cutting her rambling about exploration teams short, and asked her to thank her parents for her. “And thanks for all your work peeling the potatoes, I’m sure you did amazing! I need to put this on the stove now, see you soon, okay?”

Lyra pouted. “Aw. But I’m having fun talking to Ark.”

Darkrai gave Twig a brief, appraising glance out of the corner of his eye, then turned his gaze back to Lyra. “I’m afraid there’s work to be done for me as well. It was nice to meet you, miss… ?”

“Let’s talk again later. You’re cool. Bye Twig! Bye Ark!” She turned and started down the road to her house, half skipping and half running as she hummed to herself. Twig and Darkrai both watched her go.

“I prompted her several times for her name, and she never seemed to recognize any of them,” Darkrai mused.

Twig was jolted from her swirling panic by his quiet frustration. She almost laughed at how frazzled he sounded. “Her name’s Lyra. The gardevoir and gallade that live over there are her parents.”

“I gathered as much. She’s… very familiar, isn’t she?”

“F-Familiar?” She worried that he was referring to his past, even indirectly, but then remembered his strangely dated vocabulary. “Oh. Yeah, her parents have tried to get her to be more well-mannered, but the lessons don’t stick. I’m not exactly a good example, and she kinda puts me on a pedestal, so that doesn’t help either.”

“Hm.” He followed after her as she turned back inside. “You do have a particular way of speaking, come to think of it.”

“Um. Thanks, I guess?”

“I mean no offense. Only that your speaking habits are dramaticized when compared to your neighbors.”

Twig narrowed her eyes as she spat a small flame to light the stove and start to heat the stew. “Yeah, uh… I’m not exactly from around Verdant Village.”

“From where do you hail?”

“Way off from here. I don’t even know what it’s called— if it had a name.” That wasn’t a complete lie. She didn’t know the name of the area she had grown up in beyond its numeric bunker designation. The name for the plot of land on the surface above it had never been revealed to her after her escape from the underground.

Darkrai hummed a low note. "Curious."

Twig didn't like him asking so many questions. She needed to start expanding the cover story, and fast.

#pmd2 #pmd eos #pmd sky #pmd explorers #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pmd fic #the present is a gift au

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ifbench · 3 months

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PMD Eternal Shadows Chapter 4: Home Sweet Home

Twig Woodland Outskirts

Light flooded my vision, before fading. Before me, was a dirt path leading into the distance up a sunset-lit hill. The trees were much sparser now, no longer forming solid walls.

“We’re out!” exclaimed Burhalla, as I heard something shatter.

What was that?!

Before I could ask what that was, Saltriv started running down the path, before stopping a few steps away, and turning around, a worried expression on their face. “Come on! I want to see my family again!” they demanded.

I could understand their worry. I’d been through something like that once, though not to this degree.

I shuddered as the memory came back. Listening to the news about how Kyogre and Groudon were rampaging near Hoenn, frantically packing only the necessities before leaving the house, getting lost in the crowd and separated from my family as everyone in Goldenrod evacuated, calling out for help to no avail...If that brawl had made its way to Johto—

“Gen! Come on!” Saltriv’s voice echoed, breaking that train of thought. I had gotten lost in my thoughts again. I needed to focus on the task at hand, that being going with Burhalla and Saltriv.

I ran towards the two, and together, the three of us headed along the path towards the sunset.

No words were spoken for some time. I think we were all just relieved to be out of that place. I know I was.

As we climbed the hill, I started to hear unfamiliar voices, though I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. I slowed my pace a bit. I looked towards the other two, and they didn’t seem to notice them. Was I just hearing things?

Should I tell the others? Would they believe me? Would it be a good idea to keep this a secret from them after what Burhalla had said?

In the midst of me trying to figure out what to do, I saw a trio of figures emerge over the hilltop. I couldn’t tell what they were from this distance, but Burhalla seemingly could, as his footsteps halted.

“Berry crackers. I’ve been found out,” I heard him mumble under his breath.

The figures continued to approach, and I could now make them out. A Typhlosion, a Meganium, and a Porygon-Z.

There was an audible gasp, and the Meganium came barreling at us with a shout of, “SALTRIV!”

This was probably one of Saltriv’s parents, then.

Saltriv ran off from our group with a similar shout of, “MOM!”

As the two reunited, the Typhlosion approached us. Out of the corner of my vision, I noticed Burhalla’s expression pale.

“Burhalla,” the Typhlosion spoke, briefly glancing at Saltriv, before turning back to the Charmander.

“Hi, dad,” Burhalla responded after a pause.

“I understand what you were doing. Really, I do. And I’m glad that you found Saltriv. But you should have known better! You could have gone missing, or worse!” Burhalla’s father roared at him. “What if you had? What would I do? What would Valorch do? I need to have a stern talk with you once we’re home.”

I stood there awkwardly, all alone, as two contrasting conversations played out near me. I looked back and forth between Saltriv and Burhalla, barely registering the Porygon-Z following the rest of their group down the hill.

“Well, se-se-seems like Burhalla’s fine, and they even brought back Saltriv and this Oshawott! All’s well that en-en-ends well, at least!” the Porygon-Z stuttered, bringing me back to reality as I was finally addressed.

I locked eyes with the Porygon-Z, before they leaned towards me. “So what’s yo-yo-your deal? I’ve nev-ev-ever seen you around town before,” they asked.

“I’m Gen,” I responded, taking note of their...odd speech pattern. I remember learning that Porygon-Zs were unstable. Was that still true in this world?

“Where are you from-om-om? My memory banks indicate the Oshawo-wo-wott family not being common on the Thunder continent,” they continued, their tone changing midway through to a more robotic one.

What now? Do I tell them what I told Saltriv and Burhalla, since the two of them were right there? Would the Porygon-Z be able to tell it was a lie? I didn’t remember if the Porygon line were normal-type or psychic-type. Either way, I needed to decide, and quickly, before anyone got suspicious.

“I don’t remember,” I lied, hoping I made the right choice, or at least the best choice I could at this point.

“You do not recall what lo-lo-location you are from?! That’s ve-ve-very worrying,” the Porygon-Z replied, their tone again switching as they spoke.

The conversation between Burhalla and his father stopped, as did the one between Saltriv and their mother.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't even notice you. I was a bit...caught up," the Meganium said, with a glance towards Saltriv. “You really don’t remember where you’re from? What do you remember?” the Meganium continued, worry seeping into their voice.

“Just my name, and how to do some things,” I parroted back my response to when Burhalla had asked that question, causing the look of worry on the Meganium’s face to worsen.

“I’m not sure if I should believe you. You’re not faking it, trying to pretend to be another amnesiac human sent to save the world?” the Typhlosion interrogated. “There’s been four Pokemon who tried lying about that just this month.”

My confidence shattered with his words. I couldn’t tell the truth now, after what Burhalla had said. Plus, given what the Typhlosion was saying, they definitely wouldn’t believe the truth. I could ponder this more later, though, for now, I had to reply.

“I’m telling the tru-” I began, before I heard Saltriv speak up.

“It’s true. He couldn’t even remember how to use moves,” they defended.

The Typhlosion looked like he wanted to say something, and began to open his mouth, but Burhalla interjected.

“I saw it too. He couldn’t even remember how to use Water Gun. He never mentioned being a human, either,” Burhalla backed up Saltriv and myself. I shot a grateful look towards him, and he nodded silently in response.

“Can’t we talk about this more once we’re in town?” Saltriv pleaded. “I want to see dad again.”

“That sounds like a splen-len-lendid idea! Le-le-let’s go back to the village,” the Porygon-Z spoke, before floating towards the hilltop.

“If we don’t start heading back soon, we won’t return before nightfall,” the Meganium said, before following behind the Porygon-Z alongside Saltriv.

The Typhlosion hesitated for a moment, before starting back up the hill. I did the same, Burhalla walking alongside me once I caught up to him.

“You are telling me the truth, right?” he questioned, turning to me, a look of suspicion on his face. “You’re not another Pokemon doing that for attention?”

“I’m not,” I hastily responded. It was true for one of his questions, at least.

His expression changed to a more neutral one. “Ok. I don’t want to have to deal with more people keeping secrets from me.” He turned back towards the setting sun.

He muttered, “Hopefully dad won’t be too harsh once I’m home.” I decided not to comment.

This lie couldn’t end well.

Soon, we reached the hilltop, and the view beyond became clear. I gawked at what was on the other side.

There was a massive clearing in the middle of an even more massive forest down below. In it, there was what looked like buildings, and tiny specks migrating from place to place. The entire area was shrouded in a light layer of fog. Was this Overcast Village?

I wasn’t left with much time to process it, as the group continued onwards, down the hill, forcing me to follow them, lest I be left behind.

For a while, silence pervaded through the group, as we descended the hill. It wasn’t until we reached the forest that someone spoke up again.

“Where did you find Saltriv, anyways?” the Meganium asked Burhalla, as we walked along the foggy path.

“They were talking with Gen at the end of the dungeon,” Burhalla answered.

“Really? How long had you two been talking?” the Meganium asked, turning towards Saltriv and myself.

“Not for long. I woke up, Saltriv was there, we just introduced ourselves to each other, then Burhalla arrived,” I answered.

“I just woke up there, and Gen was the first person I saw before Burhalla had found us,” Saltriv corroborated.

The Meganium took a moment to take in this information, then continued onwards.

Soon, the trees cleared up, and the path stopped at a wide stone circle covered in fog.

“Welcome to Overcast Village!” Burhalla announced to me.

Overcast Village

It didn’t seem nearly as big as Goldenrod, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in wonder. I walked towards the center of the circle to get a better look at my surroundings. Right to the left of where the path ended was a bulletin board, filled with posters depicting many Pokemon. A Tyrogue was looking over the papers on it. Next to it, was a large tent in the shape of a Kecleon’s head, underneath which was an assortment of boxes guarded by a Torterra. On the other side of the path was some sort of strange box with many mechanisms on it. Heading away from it was a Pokemon with short arms, a V-shaped head, and a wispy tail, carrying what looked to be its pre-evolution on its head. There were many stone roads leading out of the circle, lined with houses that grew progressively fainter the further into the fog they were. Down one road that a Leafeon was walking across, I could barely see another stone circle like the one I currently stood on.

It wasn’t quite like anything I had seen before. There were so many Pokemon here, and yet I felt so alone.

I was jolted out of my thoughts as Burhalla’s father spoke up. “Time to go home,” he stated, before starting down one of the roads.

“Wait, but-” Burhalla began, but the Typhlosion interrupted him before he could finish.

“No ‘buts’. We’re going home, now,” the large fire-type said, before ushering Burhalla down one of the roads. Burhalla turned towards me with an apologetic expression, and before I could protest, he disappeared into the fog.

Now what? Burhalla had offered to help me out, and now he was gone, at least for the time being.

I looked over towards the remaining members of our group. The Porygon-Z was already heading down the road Burhalla and his father went down, leaving just me, Saltriv, and the Meganium, the latter two of which were conversing with the Torterra under the Kecleon-shaped tent. I heard a loud shout of “Saltriv!” from an unfamiliar voice. Was that the Torterra?

Hopefully Saltriv would be willing to help. Otherwise, I was in trouble.

I walked over towards the tent, and pleaded, “Can I stay with you all for the night? I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Of course! Right, mom?” Saltriv answered almost immediately. I wasn’t expecting a response that quickly.

“We’ll have to discuss it first, but I’ll consider it,” the Meganium responded, causing my expression to fall. “You should have told me soone-”

“They helped heal me when I got poisoned in that dungeon! Please?” Saltriv added.

“Why not?” the voice from before spoke up. I realized it was the Torterra, who was now facing me. “We have enough room, anyways. You helped save Saltriv, we should pay you back somehow.”

“Thanks, dad!” Saltriv exclaimed, their expression full of joy. That Torterra must be their father, then.

“Looks like you can come with us then, Gen,” the Meganium stated, as I felt my mouth form into a smile. I had somewhere to live here now! At least, for tonight. I doubted I’d be able to stay much longer, if I was even still here tomorrow, and didn’t wake up back home.

“Let’s head home. Night is almost upon us.” the Torterra said, exiting the tent. The Meganium started towards a road next to an oddly apple-shaped house. Saltriv and their father followed, and so did I.

We walked down the foggy road for a short while, passing by many Pokemon I did and didn’t recognize, until Saltriv broke the silence. “There’s not as many Pokemon around as I remember.”

“There’s been a lot of disappearances since you’ve been gone. You’ve probably already noticed the Kecleon brothers,” Meganium responded, a twinge of worry noticeable in her voice. “Did Burhalla already tell you about that?”

“He did,” Saltriv answered. “Has it really been months since I...disappeared?”

“Unfortunately, it has been,” Torterra replied. “We can talk more about that tomorrow. Right now, you’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

Eventually, the others stopped, as we came to a house that looked like four massive pumpkins joined together, with gigantic leaves topping two of them, and a tree on top of a third.

“We’re here,” Meganium announced, as the three of them entered a wide doorway, and I quickly followed suit.

Saltriv’s Home

It was quite spacious. To my right, there were entrances to the other rooms. In one corner of the room I was in, on the wall, were several cabinets, with small handles that resembled loops more than anything else. Underneath them was what seemed to be a radio on top of a table, yet no chairs. That’s probably to be expected, though. All the Pokemon that lived here were quadrupedal, and I didn’t know if chairs even existed in this world. The left side of the room held a bookshelf, every shelf filled with a colorful assortment of books, piquing my interest. What kind of literature did Pokemon have? I’d have to check that out later, assuming it was in a language I could read.

“Wait here. I’ll get the guest bed,” Meganium said, before heading into another room, Torterra following after her, leaving me and Saltriv alone.

The silence was quickly broken, as Saltriv spoke up. “You really do have amnesia? You’re not faking it like Burhalla’s dad said?”

“I really do. Barely can remember anything,” I lied, before questioning if I really did need to keep this up. Burhalla was away, I presumably wasn’t in danger anymore, and the topic was right. Plus, Saltriv had memories of that platform, apparently. Maybe if I told them my memories of that place, they’d believe me?

“Not even about being a human or something?” they pressed.

“Nope,” I responded after a few moments. I weighed the odds. At best, Saltriv believes me, doesn’t tell anyone, and can help me get back home. However, it was far more likely that they wouldn’t believe me, especially after what Typhlosion said. Worst case scenario, Saltriv’s family kicks me out, Burhalla is told, and I have no one to help me figure out this world.

“Anything in particular you do remember?” they continued.

“Just my name, and a few other things,” I answered. I couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t worth the potential loss.

“What kinds of things?” they asked.

Before I could get a chance to even think how to respond, Meganium poked her head into the room we were in. “Everything’s all set! This way!” she told us, before turning back around. Saltriv ran after her, and so did I. It wasn’t long before we entered our destination.

It wasn’t nearly as large as the first room of the house, but there was still a great deal within it. On the far side of the room, there were two straw mats, a thin blanket and a pillow beside each. Next to them was a wide, plain-looking box, bursting with an assortment of various items, some I recognized, some I didn’t. Among them was a strange gadget with a screen in the middle, and a glowing blue orb at the top. Was that some kind of Pokedex or something? On the ceiling was an open window, letting the last rays of sunlight for the day shine down upon the left mat.

“Your bed is the one on the right,” Meganium pointed out, as Saltriv rushed into the straw mat on the left, lit by a quickly diminishing amount of sunlight. Those must be the beds, then. They didn’t look very comfortable.

“Get along, you two,” Meganium asked the two of us. “I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

“We will!” Saltriv assured. “He saved my life! Of course we’ll get along!”

“Just making sure,” Meganium clarified, before heading out of the room.

I walked over to the unlit mat, dreading what would come next. I braced myself, then flopped onto the bed of straw, finding it...much more comfortable than I expected. Huh.

“You looked like you’ve never seen a bed before!” I heard Saltriv exclaim in bewilderment. “Haven’t you slept at all since you forgot everything?”

��I haven’t. Waking up in that clearing with you is the first thing I remember,” I lied.

“Weird. You should tell me exactly what you do remember! Or you could write it down in a journal! I think I have a spare one somewhere.”

“Can we do that tomorrow?” I pleaded. “I’m tired.”

“Ok! See you tomorrow!” Saltriv cheerfully replied, pulling their blanket over themself with a vine as they laid their head on a pillow.

As I tucked myself in, I thought over everything that had happened today.

There was whatever had happened on that platform in that psychedelic void. There was that mailbox that I put that paper in. What was the deal with that? There also was that really soft bow, that changed colors. Then my reflection turned into an Oshawott, just like I am now. After that was all those Pokemon with shadowy auras, and that note, telling me to save one. Was Saltriv the one I saved? Who wrote that, anyway? Did that have anything to do with what Burhalla said about “going shadowy”? And then there was that terrifying giant hand coming down for me. I’m not sure if I wanted to know what that was. And somehow Saltriv remembered it all? That place had made even less sense than this world did.

Not that this world made much sense, either. I’m somehow an Oshawott now, just like my reflection on that platform. Pokemon lived in towns here, but there were also wild Pokemon, too? Burhalla also did two Embers one after the other back in Twig Woodland. I was almost certain moves couldn’t be used that quickly after each other. There was also that shattering sound once we exited the dungeon. I still had no clue what that was about. Speaking of mystery dungeons, those also didn’t make any sense at all. Something like that happening naturally was an impossibility with the laws of physics as I remembered them.

At least I met Saltriv and Burhalla. They had offered to help me. Saltriv already was, convincing their family to let me stay the night here. I really needed to thank them once I woke up, and Burhalla, too.

They’ve really been a big help so far, even if they might have suspicions that I’m lying.

Why did I even start that lie, anyways? All it’s caused me is trouble, and I can’t come clean now, or I’ll lose Burhalla’s trust, along with likely the trust of everyone else here.

Would they have believed me if I told the truth, though? With there apparently being Pokemon faking being amnesiac humans, not to mention humans being legends here, they probably wouldn’t.

What was the best thing to do?

Was there even a right answer to that?

Why were there Pokemon pretending to have amnesia, anyways? Why was I an Oshawott? Why was I here at all?!

Gah, why was any of this happening?! Why couldn’t I be back home, where things actually made sense?!

What was happening back home, even? Were my family and friends ok? Did they know where I was? Were they trying to find me right now?

I want to go home. I want to go back to my family. I want to go back to the world I know.

I want to wake up back in my bed, like this all never happened.

My final thought before drifting into sleep was hoping that, somehow, despite all evidence to the contrary, this was all just a bad dream.

=======

Goldenrod City

I heard the gambler curse as the fourth card he flipped over was revealed to be a Voltorb. All 930 coins he won during this game were forfeit. I began to shuffle the cards for the next person in line, when the gambler smashed their fist against the table, causing the Doduo near him to flinch.

“Gimme another go! This time I’ll hit the level 8 jackpot!” he demanded. They never learn, do they?

“You’re back down to level 2,” I told him, as I doled out the cards, making sure to lay out the right amount of multipliers and Voltorbs. After I wrote down the multiplier and voltorb sums at the side of each row, I announced, “Begin!”

I paid little attention to his actions, instead glancing towards the empty table to my right. Gen should have been here for his shift hours ago. Where could he be?

I felt a faint buzz from my pocket. It must be closing time, then. I ignored every expletive the gambler spat at me, as I packed up my belongings and headed out the door. Closing up shop wasn’t my job, anyways.

The moment the door shut behind me, I was confronted by a disheveled mess of a man, eyes widened and eyebrows pulled together.

“Spersua! Have you seen Gen at all? You’re his coworker, right?” he questioned. Right. This was Gen’s father.

“Sorry, sir. He hasn’t turned up today. Something happen?” I asked in turn, raising an eyebrow.

All I received in reply was a cry of anguish, as he ran off.

Ok then. That was odd. Something was seriously up with Gen. Maybe I should leave him a message.

I pulled the rectangle out of my pocket, and sent a quick “U ok?” message to Gen. That should put me at ease for now.

I should get home soon. The sun was setting.

I walked down the street from the game corner, past a telephone pole adorned with a poster of a familiar visage.

I stopped, doing a double take. Yep, that was Gen alright, or at least a picture of him. And on a missing poster, too.

Well, this sucked.

Nothing I could do anything about, though.

I began to continue towards home, before a patch of blue caught my eye. A pristine blue bow, lying on the ground. I immediately nabbed it. It was unbelievably soft, more than anything I’ve felt before. I didn’t want to let go of it.

I’ll keep it. It was my favorite color, so no way was I giving it up. Maybe I could sew it on to my shirt collar or something. I bet that would look stylish.

Whoever lost it wasn’t my problem.

Hopefully Gen would turn up soon. Managing Voltorb Flip all by myself was exhausting.

Plus, I did miss him a bit.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #fanfic #fanfiction #pmd eternal shadows #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction

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