“I’m so excited, Miss Aolani!” a young, perky, blue haired, blue eyed, lady in a professional looking designer lab coat with a tag that read ‘Singh’ practically sung as she spun around. She had been practically hopping with glee as she danced around and admired what was, though sterile and well cared for, a dreary corporate kitchen that smelled of tuna and curry leftovers.
“First day?” She responded listlessly as she stared unblinkingly over a half-eaten bowl of Kakuna Krunch. Her lab coat had been stained in unsettling ichors with colors ranging from tricoderma-green, to mustard-yellow, surrounded with a muddy brown that had been painted on with jagged something-or-others all over her in thin stripes. She scratched wildly at an itch on her scalp, displacing strands of purple uncombed hair. Her pale but still noticeably naturally tan skin accented her jet black eyes that were in turn perfectly accented by the redness of her sclera that morning. From a huge array of stark-white Pokeballs lining the inside of her coat, one accidentally slipped out of a pocket and released some red light under the sturdy but well worn stainless-steel table.
She should have bought a Chesto-Shot, she thought as a mutant three-horned Weedle squirmed its way up her lap and peeked at her breakfast while the was distracted with her ‘morning assignment.’ Aolani’s hand instinctively reached around and rubbed under its little nose and it chattered happily.
Singh nodded with a cheery mhmm, “Its so awesome finally being here. I always hoped I’d end up working for Silph Co. Science, and now I’m here!”
Aolani’s eyebrow rose as she scooped another bite into her mouth, the Weedle looking up despondently as she slowly munched. “An whysh pthat?” she asked, not remotely attempting to sound the least bit interested in the backstory of what she suspected was an empty headed nepotist.
The perky intern winked and pointed like she was about to make a powerful declaration far above her pay grade. “Because the future is happening right here, right now. All the brightest are working together to make life better for man and mon. So many folks I can learn from and add to my network of knowledge.”
Bingo.
She groaned a little. A tiny rattle that was tough to notice if you hadn’t already been warned about her shoving her last intern’s face down a Grubbin hole. Somehow her face managed to generate an even more stoic and unimpressed gaze, her glasses hiding her eyes behind a glare from the buzzing halogen lamps above them in distaste. She mechanically lifted her scrawny arm over the bowl and plonked the spoon down into the milk, then nodded as she scooched it over to the Weedle. “Clean it up when you’re done, Theseus.”
Theseus squealed in delight and then dunked his face into the mushy milky soup.
“That’s why you’re here, right? I bet you’ve made so many friends over the years.”
Aolani flipped open her Dexnav, an ancient one she never cared to replace, covered in gashes and burn marks of the past, with a faintly visible Rocket symbol on the flap. “Yeah, can’t say I have…” she hummed and chewed on her lip as she checked Razzberry and stalked the poor unfortunate people she really cared about.
The young lady was shocked? How could? That made no sense. She’d been there for almost ten years. Ha, everyone there would have a deep and witty sense of humor, wouldn’t they? She was joking with her, of course. “Oh, come now,” she said, waving her palm like she was dismissing her dismissal, “Aolani, the BUG SCULPTOR? You’re responsible for some of the most divine fashion strai--”
“Article.”
She said it like dropping a brick with a message tied to it at someone’s feet as she pecked furiously at the screen, frustrated at what she was witnessing. She chewed on a thumb nail and grumbled a little bit.
The aqua haired gal was stopped in her psycho-social tracks. “Article? Sorry, Miss Aolani, I guess I don’t follow.”
Her eyes flashed up at the young lady, wincing at her words. “Favorite article of mine, was wondering which one you liked.”
She breathed in shock and chuckled nervously. “Oh, gosh. That’s so tough. You’ve published so ma---”
Aolani glanced up and shook her head. “In fact, whatever, name one. Just one.”
The young lady, realizing she wasn’t going to slink past this barricade, put her thumb up to her chin and tried her best to remember all the stuff she looked up on her trainer. “Oh, definitely… um…. Skipping Stairs, uh, the one on speeding up evolution stages, its probably your most famous work.”
She made a tiny wry chuckle, “That was co authored with Dr. Cress. I meant MY work. Do you even know my full name?”
“Ka.. Ah, um. Kawanku. Kanahakuna?” she guessed again and again, blushing furiously as she dug that hole deeper and deeper, sweating a little even as she stood beneath the ceiling vent.
Aolani shook her head as her attention went back to the cracked dexnav screen. She coughed and nearly dropped her dexnav. “Ace, you fucking asshole! Why?!”
Singh, not so easily deterred by a difficult test-of-gab, perked up a little and leaned in towards her again, sensing an opportunity for gossip. “Ooh, is everything OK?”
Aolani snapped her dexnav shut with a loud expressive slap in the girl’s face and she jumped in surprise. “Doesn’t matter to you. Gonna make it real clear right now I’m not interested in friends here and you shouldn’t be either.”
Singh huffed, beginning to feel the tingle of her pride being burned. “That so. What’s got the oh-so-great Aolani sticking around, then?” she asked, with no small amount of snark beginning to sprout.
She nodded and put her hands into her lab coat pockets. “Now you’re asking questions, pupae. I’m here because there's nowhere better in the world to do my work. There’s nowhere better for anyone to do their work… the most groundbreaking tool sets, the densest databases, access to whatever bleeding-edge computer and program you could ever hope for… as long as you’re worth it,” she said as she reached behind her head again and scratched at that damned spot on the back of her skull.
How annoying, she thought, wondering if she’d ever truly acclimate to the stimulus.
Her fingers barely revealed a shining silver plug hidden beneath her lavender pixie cut and then it slipped away. The newbie’s attention was totally transfixed by it, though. She couldn’t help but wonder what interesting new thing this woman was using on herself, but Aolani intercepted her stare with a a well-placed index finger on her nose and then guided her back around to her face.
“What makes you worth it?”
She, yet again, felt her pride starting to cinder just beneath her skin. “Well, I’m good with people. Every tribe needs a chief or two. Best in my class. I’m from the Kalos Academe Economie. Give me a hundred homeless and a fund and you’ll have a castle in no time.”
“We don’t build castles here,” she said passively as she waved the new girl out of the break room and into the busy hallway that was swarming with other pasty-faced laboratory ghouls. Her people, she thought, ones that deserved to be there.
She smirked. “I was being metaphorical, dear,” she said, tilting her head as she tried to lead the way to the front where pass down would soon be held.
“So was I…” Aolani coughed quietly.
The front area was a mess of scientists, engineers, men in lavish business suits, other men in not-so-lavish neon orange work vests and hard hats. At the center of the opposite wall was a heavy set of metal sliding doors to the elevator that took everyone to that level of the facility. The entire place was a hypomanic hippodrome where each insane hyper specialist argued with the next over some joint-specialty research they were involved with each other in. Like a chain of neurons all working in tandem on some master goal thrust upon them by whatever big-wig project manager was being pressured from up top.
The sliding security doors opened up and the entire floor went silent. Each pair of eyes fixated on the man walking in. He was tall, broad shouldered, and had a strong jawline... abnormal for any Kantonese guy, especially for how much his towering gait commanded the room. His graying salt-and-pepper hair was groomed into a distinguished looking crew cut showing off his slowly thinning widow’s peak. In his lab coat a wriggling lump shuffled around his waist, down and then up his leg and then stopped beneath the front pocket. His hand reached up to an opening in his lab coat and a tiny furry paw handed him a sleek set of reading glasses. He sighed and totally ignored every single person in the chamber, slipped the glasses over his deep green eyes, starting the long march to his office.
He was exasperated; unusual, Aolani thought. Best to keep out of the-
“Good morning, Sir!” the intern shouted out, waving with way more energy than anyone around Aolani had any right to display.
“Moron!” she hissed, not sure if or whether she cared about her newbie overhearing.
The remnants of her greeting echoed in the open chamber as everyone waited for the old doctor’s decree. He stopped mid stride, foot still lifted in the air, and his head cleanly turned to face them both. “Dr. Kawananakoa, what is this?” he asked.
The silence wasn’t going away. Dammit, she cried out in her skull. All she wanted to do today was stimulate sample tissues for the Joltik tests. “It’s an intern, Dr. Cress,” Aolani responded curtly.
“Who...?” he began as the bulge in his jacket wriggled some more and a little brown ear with a metal identification tag reading ‘E556’ slipped out of his jacket. He stuffed it back in his jacket with a sigh and a shake of his head.
Aolani rolled her eyes. “Probably Vanessa again, sir.”
His eyes squinted at them both, then he focused on the new girl. His wordless inspection of her started at her hairline then went in a z-shape down to her chin.
Undeterred, full of enthusiasm, she held her hand out and smiled like she was being introduced to some exclusive business partner. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, sir!” Her chest nearly bounced out of her tightly bound under-blouse on the ‘Sir.’
His eyes fixated on her out stretched palm, and then he scanned the room, with an expression that was as if he was crying out for an explanation. The anxious tremors that were absolutely devastating Aolani were finally starting to be felt in Singh’s guts.
His eyebrow raised, as if he was waiting for something but really had somewhere to be at the same time.
She cleared her throat and put her arms behind her back, showing off her good grooming in all the best ways. “Haha, sorry, I’m just super enthusiastic. My name’s--”
“Jun Mai Singh. I’m aware.” He sighed, shook his head. “Dr. Kawananakoa is peerless in her work and her time is priceless to me. You, young lady, you’re lucky to be here.”
She smiled and perked up. “I’m excited to be here, sir! If there’s anything y---”
“Oooo, a new girl!” a smooth, cute little voice cooed from within Cress’ coat. Then, forcing its way out past Cress’s hand, an Eevee’s face popped out like a chest-burster with an arrogant smirk. Then the rest of his body squirmed out and crawled up to perch on his master’s shoulder. “Tell Vanessa she can keep the press she printed HER on running, father!” He hiccuped in embarrassment and wagged his paw at Aolani, “not that I could ever forget you, Aolani. You rock’n that Biohazard Chic, girl.”
Cress sighed and shook his head, Aolani scowled and tapped her foot.
Jun’s face lit up. “Oh…. Oh oh my gosh, you speak so well! Did you train him yourself, Sir?” she edged closer into Cress’ comfort zone and he stood firm, not reacting to her advances.
Dr. Cress was no longer addressing her or even recognizing her physical existence; instead he was quietly mumbling something with Aolani. The noise of the lab had started to return, and Aolani was glad for that.
The Eevee smirked as he professed, holding a paw to his chest proudly. “I trained MYSELF, thank you very much! Wouldn’t be caught dead wasting Father’s time with a-e-i-o-u’s.”
Cress suddenly plucked his pet away from his shoulder and plopped him on the ground. “Speaking of wasting time, Indoles, you owe me 5% Bicep Femoris performance growth.”
He huffed, thought for a minute, then swung his little head around and announced, “Promise you’ll take me shopping and I’ll give you 7%, daddy.” He had an effeminate, arrogant, but still endearing air about him, like he was flaunting all the fluff Arceus gave him in a desperate game he loved to win but probably lost a lot.
“If you fail I will double your weight regiment.”
Indoles ruffled his fur, his chest quaking with the dread of such a brutal punishment should he come up short. “Deal,” he said after a long pained breath. His tail wagged with that deeply ingrained desire some mon had to please their masters and then he scampered beneath the coats of few attractive women on his way to whatever torture he was going to put himself through.
Aolani nodded after receiving a few silent stiff lipped words from her boss. “Right. got it.”
“I hope you excel, young lady,” he said, and then began marching away again, like he was desperately trying to escape.
Jun, unfortunately, felt like she absolutely needed to have the last word. “I will, sir. I’ll make sure I learn everything Miss Aolani has to teach me.”
He stopped in his tracks again. This time his foot stomped down and the sound of which echoed down the halls, silencing the room once more. He looked at Aolani like he was hoping she’d explain something to him, but all she could do was clear her throat and wag her eyes back at Jun.
“Aolani, I’m terribly sorry, but I seem to have forgotten; what was my title again?”
Food for the soul, Aolani thought. “Um, Doctor, if I’m not mistaken.”
He nodded, pulled a tiny orange bottle from his lab coat, and knocked a vivid green capsule from it down his throat completely dry. “Slips my old noggin from time to time. Of course, if I’m not mistaken, you also go by Doctor, do you not?”
She nodded and cleared her throat, “Indeed, but its OK this time, Doctor; slips between the cracks, school was so long ago after all.”
He nodded in return, then his head turned to Jun like a scarekrow that had animated when it shouldn’t and dug its empty eyes into her soul. “Remind me, young lady. What is your title? I’d hate to make the same mistake.”
The fire in her belly from earlier was extinguished by a spine chilling rush of humiliation.
“Um, Miss is fine. Thank you, Doctor...”
He breathed in, composed himself once more, “Reclamation,” and left without another word.
There was a long, awful, awkward silence as Aolani walked Jun down a separate hallway from earlier. As they passed a massive collection of baby Eevee and several other assorted species with horrible disfigurements being inspected from rows of glass containers, some being taken for Arceus-knows-what and others being brought back to sit and be gawked at.
“He knows my name!” Jun said, suddenly filled with enthusiasm once more.
“He knows everyone's name. Your mom works for Silph Co. Corporate, I take it?” Aolani rolled her shoulders, preparing herself for what was coming next. She approached a pipe-delivery system access point and typed several numbers in. She swiped her keybadge and then hissing sound of the promised capsule zipping down one of thousands of delivery tubes whispered gently in the air. The thing arrived with a heavy thunk and then Aolani retrieved a black sack with a metal serialized tag bound to it with metal wire from inside it, then sent it back on its way down the pneumatic tube network to Arceus-knows-where.
“Yes, she’s an account manager for the Pokeball Divis… how did you know that? She’s...wait I’m not even supposed to tell… You knew that, though already, of course.” She was stammering, slightly unnerved as the things she was witnessing or walking past had become too grotesque or outright alien to behold. Her stomach lurched as she walked past a surgical theater where an anesthetized Lucario’s legs laid dismembered on a chrome table and a pair of metal replacements were being prepared for installation.
“Sure, why not?” Aolani said as she pressed her keycard to a black console outside an equally imposing set of black sliding doors.
Inside was a massive collection of glass tubes with metal apparatuses that looked like they fit onto the dispensing nozzle of a large machine that resembled a device that looked as if a blender, a washing machine, and a juicer had a threesome love child. One large central tank with a collection of hungry looking blending teeth at the bottom stared at Jun and she giggled nervously. “So what kind of experiment are we doing? I’m excited to get down to business,” she spoke with rigid plasticity in her tone. The kind of tone that was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.
Aolani reached into the bag, retrieved an unfinished but completely functional mass produced Pokeball with a burnished steel texture. She pressed the button on it and an adorable little female Eevee with an eye socket that seemed to have been fused shut at birth cried out in excitement at having been selected. “Good, this should be a piece of cake then.” She pressed a button on the Pokeball and pointed into the tank as she opened the front hatch. “Inside.”
The Eevee rubbed its haunches against Aolani’s leg, chirped happily, and jumped in through the hatch as commanded. The door sealed shut on its own.
“Veeee! Eeeeeveeee,” the little thing chirped enthusiastically, muffled by the glass, pawing at the door with an innocent trusting smile.
Jun’s stomach started to turn. “Hey, wait a minute. What’s this machine do really? I… I’m not so sure it looks sa… I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing, Doctor but I jus---”
Aolani punched a big orange button on the console and clenched her teeth. She always did.
In what felt like a distorted eternity the Eevee was yanked from all sides into a squealing dismembered half-alive tangle of gore desperately trying to jump and claw itself away from the whirling blades...and then finally after a couple seconds it was silently blended into a bubbling pink slurry as different chemicals were introduced and mixed with the thing’s liquefied remains.
Jun gagged, her eyes wide open, and then she screamed. It was the only thing her brain could possibly think to do, like a computer malfunctioning with the speakers stuck repeating one sound on loop. Her own screaming knocked the wind out of her and she fell to her knees, staring at the paste slowly being fed into one of the tubes that attached to the nozzle at the bottom in horror.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Jun jumped up and screamed in Aolani’s face. Her eyes watered and she cried out, hugging her abdomen in anguish.
Aolani tossed the bag into her chest. “Each of these specimens needs reclaimed. Users manual is under the console there, but its pretty self explanatory. Fill these tubes. Once you’re done, deliver to room 630, then come find me. Clean the machine thoroughly before you leave. Chemicals are in the cabinet there.”
Jun was half awake, still in shock from what she’d just witnessed, and her hands shook as she grabbed a Pokeball from the bag and released another Eevee. A male with both his back legs grown into tiny vestigial nubs. He drug himself around on his butt and looked up at Jun with a big smile on his little face.
Dr. Kawananakoa stepped through the door to leave. “Nobody cares about your pedigree, Miss Singh. The only thing that matters here is Progress.”
The the open mid-autumn air of Mauville’s city center was hard to beat when thinking of places for an unveiling. The temperature was cool and breezy in the shade, the sunlight gently warmed the body in the open square, and all the maple trees were a soothing melody of warm colors that elicited a rare sense of reverence for nature for somewhere so deep in the city. Its umber canopy housed a healthy population of freeloading obese Skwovet who lazed about on branches sleeping off the delicious generosities of man that they had earned for the trouble of being soft, squishy, and good with the children.
Both Emil and Richard arrived chauffeured in the same armored limousine and a police escort combo. Emil would have been happy to drive there himself in his humble little Aron… but the Lieutenant absolutely insisted that they be treated as guests of the city for some reason. This was all well and good, petrol was getting expensive and all, but it did present one subtle administrative issue.
You see, the day before the unveiling Emil had made it known in a passing comment that he was just going to show up in whatever rags he had laying around the house. Richard didn’t care, since his father wasn’t supposed to be there that day and he probably would have let Emil show up in a clown suit just to see how long it took for his father to find out and pop a fuse. Vaporeon, on the other hand, was having absolutely none of her human’s lower-class guff. After bearing witness to the beautiful clothes and accessories people wore at the fancy parties she’d been allowed to attend she was horribly embarrassed, gagging at the mere thought of her Mate standing among the beautiful people looking like he’d just escaped from the inside of an engine block. She intended to fix it right then and there. She dug around their little abode for hours that night, scouring each errant unwashed laundry pile or spare lost sock from behind the drier, making him dress and undress for her (way more undressing then dressing for reasons Emil could guess) in a desperately doomed search for anything that was good enough to send her precious Emmi out in. She hated it all, he needed to buy something nice, but her limited vocabulary simply couldn’t support that level of communication. So she made her distaste with his wardrobe known in the only way she knew how; by ripping every single thing he tried to wear that morning into tiny unrecoverable shreds. With a smile, of course.
And, because the whims of a lovely lady override the needs of any serious gentlemen, this ultimately resulted in the ridiculous scene of a pampered and groomed Emilio Malison wearing refined, black,VERY expensive on-label urbane minimalist attire. He leaned against a rusty chain link fence by the Luditaco Truck across the street from the classy clothing store called Sirnight & Erureido. The escorts found him devouring a greasy paper bundle of beef molote’s hiding his wry defeat behind slick designer sunglasses.
Vaporeon sat beside him next to an equally elegant black schoolbag, beaming with pride as she looked her Human up and down, and then rubbed her whole body against him in satisfaction. Her cast irritated her to no end and she scratched in frustration at its surface, which had begun accumulating hand written well-wishes and other endearing little bits of graffiti.
They rolled up to the square from a police access and were let out with haste. Emil tossed his food wrappers in a totally empty and perfectly sanitized public trash can, then hiked the bag onto his shoulders after unzipping it so Vaporeon could be included in the fun.
Richard tossed two Pokeballs out. Machamp stretched and flexed as he was released, as if he was showing off for a line of judges, and Incineroar had a cool look of anticipation in her eyes. They were Richard’s favorite mon to pal around with outside of his own abode. They were the best with other men and mon and the two of them adored the crowd just as much as he did; each for entirely different reasons, but definitely the same amount.
All around the square were other snugly dressed citizens from all walks of life, at least it looked that way. They must have been attracted by the investment in their safety and well-being he supposed, and even if they weren’t particularly interested in civics, they were definitely sticking around for the pleasant company and seemingly endless supply of steamy winter drinks carried around on platters by an army of neatly uniformed service-mon. Most of them were Riolu, Machop, and Nuzleaf that had been dressed in an adorable regiment of livery. They matched the rest of the police force perfectly as they happily wandered about warming the tummies of the populace. In the back of the venue was a massive set of granite stone stairs that held up the red brick edifice that was the brand new police dormitory, with a thick vermilion ribbon that was tied between two wrought iron lamp posts in the traditional ceremonial style.
Emil, suddenly realizing that his social anxiety was starting to make his suave black turtleneck feel itchy and tight, bent over a tough faced Riolu female and snagged two steaming cups of Spiced Pecha Cider. He lifted them a little in thanks. “Cheers, Miss,” he said as he handed Vaporeon her cup over his shoulder.
Vaporeon snuggled into his cheek and chirped and purred. She was having a wonderful day. A romantic morning spent pampering her Mate, luxurious refreshments, lovely scenery, Orrenian food for lunch, and being palanquined by Emil in their snazzy new bag; what more could a lady of quality ask for? She grunted a little as she pushed herself out of the bag, ignoring the fading pain in her leg, and snuck a little kiss onto Emil’s cheek.
Emil’s face blazed red and he glanced back at her. “Careful,” he whispered.
She smirked and patted his cheek with her tail. “Eeeon… Eeeeon….” Her voice was like a chided teen brushing off wisdom for the sake of bravado.
In the distance he could see Machamp and Incineroar showing off their extraordinary abilities to crowds of cheering onlookers. Richard fended off a constant hailstorm of trainers and young ladies asking about anything that seemed like good enough of an excuse to approach him.
It truly was amazing how gregarious Richard was though; he was at home in the limelight, even when people were being unpleasant or rude, and just naturally seemed to attract others when he spoke or did something just for the sake of clout. Machamps favorite past time, lifting lots of people, never got old for him or the fans, and it was easy to count that as training in his brain. Incineroar didn’t like sharing her spot light, but as long as Vaporeon stayed with Emil and Machamp was busy being Machamp she could get the most people marveling at her Ember Dances. That’s what she called them, anyway. She had learned to make the flames pop and hiss and crackle to make little voices come out from the animated figures she conjured, and she had lots of little stories to tell today. Especially the one about Emil being walked out of his own house in his undergarments by Vaporeon. Well, maybe she’d save that one for a private party, she thought.
Even Vaporeon had a steady stream of admirers, wishing her a speedy recovery or simply wishing to pet her flawless aquatic hide. She basked in the attention like a Floragato on a sunlit stage. She loved posing for photos and smashing her paw print onto league fan signature books, and even pushed herself out of the bag to tease a few of them she seemed to have taken a liking too with some well placed gouts of water, but refused to leave the comfort of his aura. One specific instance stayed with him, a teenager doing a story for his school newspaper. He asked to take a photo of her alone in her cast and she seemed insulted, refusing to take any pictures without Emil there with her in it. Yes, she may have been the Azurite gem of Team Stone. Yes, she flaunted her beauty with even the tiniest amount of provocation and only allowed those who treated her with respect to approach or touch her body. Indeed she ruled any ground her paws touched and she made it manifestly clear she was the royalty that resided behind Stonecastle’s walls… but not once did she choose to suffer an audience with someone that made the mistake of overlooking her darling Emil.
On the other hand, all Emil could think of doing was stripping himself of the fancy clothes and the stuffy social atmosphere to go hide in his workshop. But he knew it was bringing Vaporeon immense joy. Also it filled him with a sense of pride. Like Richard, no matter the size of the crowd or how important the guest was, she refused to let her cherished oil-stained outcast go unnoticed by the world. He hated being the center of attention. It always made him feel like an insect under a magnifying glass where the risk of getting burned was greatest. He felt that way especially today as he scanned the crowd for Lieutenant Steele and failed to locate the beast.
However nice everything was, and it truly was wonderful, the whole affair seemed like some surreal backstage music concert event rather than some stuffy government public building opening. Things weren’t adding up in Emil’s brain.
In time actual police had begun filing in, most of them owners of the Policemon who had been serving their guests, and many of them chose to help instead of lounging about while their partners labored away. Emil snagged himself a pair of hot chocolates before the refreshments started drying up, realizing that the growing murmur of expectation from the crowd meant that main event was underway.
“Thank goodness, all I want to do is take a nap, sweetie,” he mumbled to Vaporeon as he handed her the cloudy cup of liquid chocolate and half-melted marshmallows.
“Bit early in the day for a nap, isn’t it, son?”
Emil and Vaporeon both jumped out of their skin as they heard that voice right behind them. There he was, no longer pinned in place like a police mannequin with his spine straight and his jaw tight. Instead he wore a thick and what must have been immensely warm camouflage pattern rain jacket with matching fatigues and floppy hat. On the arm of the jacket was a shield shaped patch with the image of a Pokeball above a cross of Marrowhack bones and a combat knife.
Vaporeon shuffled into her backpack, growling at the sudden and very unwelcome destruction of the nirvana they’d worked so hard to create.
Emil shrugged and his eyes shifted awkwardly. “Crowds take it out of me, sir. In all honesty, I’d rather be in some garage somewhere doing something useful for someone.”
Keenan Steel chuckled and slapped his shoulder, stinging him down to the muscle with the force of the impact. Vaporeon snarled, but managed to keep it together. “I suppose you would. You’re a, well, Richard’s father spoke with me the other day and he called you a ‘Consummate Quartermaster.’ He’s impressed with how you’ve taken his son’s mess of a lifestyle and whipped it into one hell of a little league operation. Give yourself more credit, young man. Oh, and I’d start on that real soon. You’re part of the ceremony.”
Emil’s skin clammed up at the thought. “I, uh. I can’t guarantee I’ll stun the crowd with my brilliance, sir.”
Steel raised an eyebrow at the comment, then shrugged as he vanished back into the crowd. “Then baffle them with bullshit, son.”
As the sound of drums and of brass horns playing regal marching music began its slow crescendo in the background of the celebrations, he reached behind himself and took off his backpack, cradling it in his arm. He put his hand up to Vaporeon’s cheek and he gently rubbed beneath her fins in several places that he had learned calmed her when she was angry. She nuzzled his fingers, licked the top of his hand as she growled. “Va. Po. Nee. Eeeeon. Eeeoneee.”
“Strong words, sweetheart,” he whispered and reached deeper inside the bag, rubbing her tummy, tickling under her chin, scratching the itches along the edges of her cast, and stroking the spines along her back.
She clamped her mouth down on his hand, clenching her pearly white fangs down just a tiny bit, and teased his tender nerdy flesh. He gasped a little as she tugged his arm into the backpack fully, and then she playfully nibbled on his thumb. His face became hot and flustered as he realized she was not letting his hand go any time soon.
“Eeeeon… Emmi… My Emmi...” She wrapped her paws around his arm. Then she started nibbling the ends of his fingertips, her throat chirruping, her purring growing in power like the procession that was now entering the square.
He chuckled but also cleared his throat. “Ha. Silly girl... Let me go,” he demanded playfully but also desperately trying to convey a tiny hint of seriousness to her. “Haaa… Its ok, you’re not hurting anyone.”
She giggled mischievously, the backpack rustled around, and then he felt a soft, wet, warm sensation stroking his hand, focusing attentively on his index finger. Then he felt a luscious warmth wrapping around his finger and he gasped in surprise as she bit him and sucked playfully on it.
“Va… Vaporeon. Stop!” he hissed as his skin flushed and his arousal started climbing. What on earth had she said earlier? He thought he understood those strong words she blurted out but now he wasn’t so sure. Then again, it had been an entire morning and afternoon since she’d been able to get her snuggles, and that would have been criminal in her eyes.
She gazed up at him from the darkness of the backpack with his finger in her mouth, winked playfully, and then closed her eyes, humming as she simply enjoyed the taste and sensation of her lover in her mouth. “Eeeon…. Emmi….”
He looked left, right, up, and down and behind, terrified that this could be even seen as remotely risque. His chest fluttered as he desperately scanned the area for anyone watching, but he soon realized that everyone had offered up their rapt attention to the massive parade of uniformed police women with identical rifles, identical height, weight, and facial features. He stopped tugging his arm away from her and she licked his palm soothingly in response. Her paws gently clawed his arm and she started grooming his hand, purring and nibbling him for no other reason than to make him jump and squeak from time to time.
Jennies, the mass produced green-haired amber-eyed factory-forged femme-fatals, were unique to heavily populated areas or to ultra-rural zones where regular enforcement simply couldn’t be recruited for. There were some things you just simply needed humans for and when the volunteers dried up that’s when, like always, Silph Co. stepped in to meet the needs they ended up creating themselves... for a price. Normally one or two would end up getting shipped out some place and there would be a big stink about it; people protesting, outreach programs to make the protests stop, protests protesting the protests, it always resulted in some sort of disaster.
But the governing council of Mauville City must have decided that they liked the flavor of civil unrest lately, because when that procession started it didn’t take long for him to lose count of just how many Jennies were actually marching through the crowd. He looked around as Vaporeon still held his arm hostage, snuggling and nibbling on his fingers, wondering when the mass of angry protesters was going to show up.
Then it finally hit him, and only as he started taking account of people passing by, it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen anyone just coming to and fro at all; no busy men in suits racing against the clock, no jail bookings that inevitably would come through that zone, no old homeless men offering Pokemon catching lessons to impressionable children for a Pokeball and a hundred. That ‘metropolitan scurry’ that made city blocks look like eusocial bug nests had been scrubbed away. What this place did feel like, though, was just another one of those big fun-raising parties that Richard’s father insisted he parade himself at, attended by the same sorts of upper class folks with very little seeming to bother them and nowhere particularly to be in the middle of the day on a weekday. They all cheered the marching line of young beautiful Jennies that waved back with pride at the sudden rush of positive attention.
He rubbed Vaporeon’s cheek and whispered into his bag. “Can you hear angry people anywhere?”
She hummed, grumbled a little at having her impromptu cuddle therapy interrupted, then she huffed and lifted her head out of the bag while still holding Emil’s arm tight against her chest. She shifted around in the backpack, moving her head away from the crowd like an radar dish rotating to find its target, and then held still for a short moment. She looked up at Emil, dared to pull one paw away from her captured prey to point past the many rows of brick buildings that stood between them and the nearest public street. “EeeeVaaa... Vapeeeeon!” she said nodding and then adjusting the direction her paw was pointing a few degrees.
He groaned, but then he smiled at her, not moving his hand away from her grasp. “Thanks, sweetie.” He leaned forward, pecked her on the forehead, and snuggled her face down with his cheek into the back pack. He could get away with a little kiss from time to time. Nobody looked twice at a loving trainer assaulting their Furret with a flurry of smooches after all. Even Richard had started shrugging and looking the other way when Emil and Vaporeon’s random little affectations came out. Won’t argue with results, he’d say, then he’d threaten to snuggle and kiss Incineroar to help cure her of her spicy attitude.
Emil still thought he should stop threatening and just do it, though. Who knew, maybe all Incineroar needed was a kiss and a hug to keep her from melting little bits of private property.
Vaporeon purred and pushed against his face lovingly, stealing a kiss on the lips when nobody could see their faces in the bag, then she snuggled up against his arm to start her grooming ministrations once more.
“Excuse me sir,” he heard from behind him and when he was finished spinning around he was greeted by a black-barreled police shotgun being held at ground-level. This Jenny was dressed very differently from the ones in the procession, accompanied by a bored looking Boltund in an assault vest that matched her own. She kept the gun pointed to the ground with her finger along the side in an absolutely perfect display of trigger discipline.
“Yes, Officer?” he asked. He playfully wriggled his fingers for Vaporeon in the bag. The way he stood, the way he was reaching into the bag, looked like he was holding a firearm.
“Excuse me, please set the bag down and tell me what is inside it.”
Emil chuckled and shrugged. “Ha, well I can’t really just set it down right now, you see, I--”
She snapped the gun up to aim it at his chest and she lurched forward as if she was preparing to fire at a clay pigeon tournament, feet in perfect firing alignment. “BAG ON THE GROUND!”
Emil’s heart jumped in his chest and he threw his hands up in the air in an instant. Vaporeon squeaked, wrapped all her limbs around Emil’s arm and clawed him in surprise at suddenly being turned upside down. “Aaaaaah!” he screamed at her claws gouging him, then he shook his head in surprise. “I didn’t do anything!”
She scowled. “What you got in the bag? Throw it down there and walk away from it! No funny business, dirtbag.”
Vaporeon’s face popped out from the opening of the bag and she hissed at the officious bully. The shotgun barrels pointed at her face and she growled low and snapped her jaw shut, recognizing the sight immediately. She slowly crawled onto Emil’s shoulder, struggling to climb with the cast hanging off her hip like a ruptured tire, and her eyes shot open in fear as she realized that they were totally surrounded, from further away, buy several other Jennies with rifles trained on Emil. The crowd was being ushered away from the situation by a crew of officers from the procession, totally ignoring several folks wondering what was happening to Emil and Vaporeon.
“Sir, I’m going to need to see your license for that Pokemon. Why were you keeping her in that bag? Mighty suspicious.”
Emil began sweating profusely, realizing that while she inspected the Vaporeon her gun’s barrels had trained themselves right between his eyes. “I’m her assistant trainer.”
“Really? Not yours, eh? I thought so. We’ll figure this out at the base.”
Vaporeon’s eyes scanned around, looking for all her threats, meticulously counting them, looking for exits. All her training came rushing back to her, she remembered all the sounds of bullet fire, all the training on where to bite and tear for maximum kill efficiency, patterns to dance around in to avoid automatic fire. However, wires in her brain were suddenly crossing. She didn’t want to jump down and tear throats, she wanted to keep her Emmi safe. Her head pounded as she tried to figure out what to do as her powerful heart forced oxygen and adrenaline upstairs… She wrapped her tail around Emil’s torso and waist, trying to protect whatever vital organs she could with her own body. As the other Jennies approached Emil Vaporeon’s face jolted back and forth and Emil could feel cold water energy starting to saturate her skin. He had no idea what she was planning but it needed to stop.
“Vaporeon… don’t.… Stop, girl! I… I need to…” he started as he felt around his pockets.
He suddenly felt as if his guts sank down into his brand new dress shoes. “I… I don’t have my license! I’m sorry, officer!”
“What the hell is going on!” Richard screamed, seeing Emil at gun point and snapping his fingers to bring Machamp and Incineroar to his sides.
“Nothing sir, proceed with the ceremony. We’ll get this suspicious fellow to a station for questioning.”
Richard had many amazing qualities. He was a good friend, he could throw amazing parties and entertain anyone anywhere, he knew how to train battlers among the best of the best. What he was not amazing at, Emil suddenly just discovered, was deescalating loud and potentially violent situations.
“Like hell you are! Who points a gun at a someone just here to see YOU get inducted!”
“Someone who has a job to do and this man is behaving suspiciously with a Pokemon that isn’t theirs without a license. Dangerous folk around today, sir. Taking no chances.”
Richard shook his head and snapped his finger again at Incineroar, who’s claws erupted into angry looking purple flames. Several rifles trained themselves on Richard and his Mon, and the Jenny in front of Emil worked her way around, using Emil and Vaporeon as cover from Richard’s fire type.
Emil’s chest was shuddering, all he wanted was for people to stop screaming and fighting. All he wanted was for Vaporeon to put her energy back away where it came from. “Please stop, Arceus please, she’s his Pokemon! All his, I’m nothing to her at all! I’m just a helper. Yep, just helping out around here!”
Vaporeon’s face snapped out of her daze for a moment and she looked horribly offended. “VaaaapeeeeeeVap!?” she scolded Emil, bapped him on the head, and then harrumphed while looking away from him.
The shot-gunner looked between Emil and Richard back and forth a few times, then she lowered her shotgun to aim at his feet instead of through his brain pan. “ID, sir,” she demanded, holding her black gloved hand out as the Boltund at her side growled softly. Then her partner whined and shied away as a shadow loomed over them.
“If you’d like to continue on living at your current rank, Corporal, I would march you and your squad mates to the nearest debriefing room and wait for further instruction.”
She gazed back and squinted her eyes, then she snapped everything back in place on her belt as if she was still at the station sipping donuts and chewing coffee. Her attention totally left Vaporeon and Emil, completely ignored Richard and his two very confused partners. She was suddenly fixed in place in front of Keenan Steel, standing in salute like a statue. He was one-hundred percent sure that if a Pidove landed on her head and shit on her nose she would have remained completely still.
“Permission to speak, Sir?” she asked, her body still as stone.
Vaporeon’s spines started swaying more slowly, her claws that had dug into his shoulder’s retracted, and now she just wrapped her tail around Emil’s whole torso. She licked his neck, her eyes teared up, she snuggled him, and she mumbled little phrasings in mon-speech that sounded like complete gibberish. Emil reached up to stroke her behind her neck fins again, realizing he had begun to taste the adrenaline building up in his blood.
He shook his head. “Negatory, Corporal. Nearest debriefing room. Until I find you or the sun burns out!”
She nodded, slung the gun against her back, and then she approached Emil with a sheepish look. “My apologies, sir. I appears I’ve misunderstood the situation today.”
Richard finally ran over to Emilio and practically tackled him in a hug. “Yeah ya did! Watch where you point those things. Not all of us wanna live every second thinking someone’s gonna suspect us of… What the hell was even your problem, lady!?”
“March, Officers!” Keenan Steel shouted and they began walking in the direction of one of the brick buildings, as if they had been tied to some straight lines that all converged on the front door. “I’m terribly sorry, you two. New soldiers twitch at the slightest perceived threat.”
Emil’s heart suddenly stopped beating hard enough to let him catch a breath and talk. “I… haaaaaa…. What the hell, I wasn’t a---”
Lt. Steel shook his head and slapped him on the shoulder again. Vaporeon snapped her jaw and hissed at Steel’s hand which barely avoided a well deserved nibble. “If you were told to look out for a terrorist gunman and you saw a person hiding their hand in a black bag, what would you do?”
Emil and Richard both stared at one another, then looked at him nervously. “Why?”
Steel shrugged. “You seen those riots at the Nature Clinics? That’s nothing compared to what this stirred up. I won’t go into it, Mr. Malison, its not what you should be concerned with. What matters is that this is what the region needs, and there’s a lot of criminals that would like to make this suddenly ‘disappear’ he said, making a ‘poof’ action with his hands.
The crowd, appearing to have relaxed a little at the situation resolving itself without violence, began moving back around to the front steps of the precinct. “You two take a moment to relax. A simple ribbon cutting, Mr. Malison, I’d like for you to do the honors today.”
Emil, who had officially been robbed of all his social-emotional energy at gunpoint, shook his head and gritted his teeth. “I’m, I’m gonna have to…”
Richard clapped him on the shoulders and gripped them hard. “Nothing wrong anymore, right? Give us a few minutes, everything’s fine. You’re gonna be fine, right?”
Emil thought about something, then he swallowed the massive pit in his throat and looked at Keenan Steel, trying to muster up courage from deep within him that he would normally have called stupidity. “Permission to Inquire?” he blundered out loud.
Steel laughed at Emilio’s civilian gaff. He laughed hard. The kind of belly laugh that made you think you were mistaking him for the Winter Mystery-Gift Man or an insane murderer in a back alley.
“Permission Granted, soldier.”
Emilio eyed the officers walking away, their heads having sulked down now that they weren’t being watched. As he put Vaporeon’s bag back on his back he thought about the whole situation and suddenly he developed… well he wasn’t sure if it was empathy, an adrenaline crash, or if it was something like pity. Those ladies were born only a few years ago, maybe as full adults or teens out of a tube somewhere, educated for a few more years, then thrown out to be police and expected to be completely perfect. His education on the topic was minnow, but he got to live his whole life in society and even HE still somehow managed to suck at social interactions. He thought about it and he wasn’t entirely sure if he would have behaved much differently. Maybe a little less… ok a lot less psycho but definitely similar.
“Sir, may those officers accompany me and Richard in the ceremony?”
Keenan Steel blinked a few times, his head tilted, and he breathed in and out once more trying to figure Mr. Malison’s thoughts out. “I’m not sure that is a great idea. Why, exactly?”
Vaporeon on his shoulder, Richard, and his two companions began thrashing about in a spontaneous energetic pantomime to express their confusion with this question as well.
In a mirroring of Keenan’s uncaring attitude, Emil shrugged. “Hurts everyone if someones sulking at a party.”
Richard, having suddenly heard his own words coming out of Em’s mouth, shot straight up in his shoes with excitement. His explosive feelings of pride began to show with a slow exaggerated arm pump. “That’s the way, Em! We don’t let little party fouls go and fuck a whole thing up!” He pumped his arm down hard and punched the air. “Stones don’t hold grudges, they build castles.”
Emil cringed internally at Richard’s rapidly vanishing pool of Stone-ism’s, but he smiled and double fist-bumped Richard in approval.
Vaporeon scoffed, then slunk back into Emil’s bag and zipped it closed. “Vap!” she barked, clearly unhappy with the entire situation, but she wasn’t about to start beating him up. At least not with everyone watching.
“I’d rather not teach these new recruits that sort of lesson, son. But, it IS your ceremony.” Steel’s mouth straightened into what Emil could only describe as a disappointed frown as he had to walk over to the squad himself and bring them back after having just reprimanded them in front of a crowd of hundreds of people. That straight spine of his had returned. Whatever that comfy friendly persona was that he’d adopted since they last met, it definitely had run out of fuel. Even worse now, suddenly in front of a crowd of shaken and tense affluent citizens, the Lieutenant stood with all the rest of the Jennies, the entire Battalion that had been assembled and he looked like a little dictator with an army of clone soldiers. A microphone on his collar magnified his voice, like a god making his declarations from the wind and the swirling autumn leaves.
“It is with great honor, and pride, and no small amount of accepted responsibility that I invite Team Stone of Mauville City to commemorate this building and this battalion of elite officers to serve and protect the people. May this building and the ladies in blue that reside here be a reminder that this is a region that does not tolerate injustice!” The speech carried on like that for a few minutes, and the air continued to suffocate everyone as long as the man spoke.
Emil was a complete moron socially, but he could tell this prepared speech was not hitting the mark, no matter how much he flashed his authoritative gaze or dictated to the heavens. The people looked at each other coldly, clearly left unimpressed by the play he and his officers had decided to put on. Emil handed the giant golden scissors to Machamp, who had been begging the entire time to use them on the ribbon like a little child asking to light the birthday candles on his brother’s cake. He started setting all the officers up around Machamp and whispered into Incineroar’s ears.
When Steel’s speech had finished, he snatched the microphone pin away from him as fast as he possibly could. Steel looked infuriated, but Emil had already committed to this stupid plan. He put his Pokedollars in the juke box, now it was time to dance.
He cleared his throat. God he hated that feeling on stage, like he was expected to deep throat a Golem in front of everyone and somehow find time to swallow its hot load of gravel while smooth talking. “We came today to commemorate this building, to mark its importance, I guess? For me to say something about how I or Richard are proud of something and blah blah blah. I think something more important is at stake today. I think it is important to remember that even when we make mistakes… we fix them. We’re never truly broken apart if we all come back together in the end. The law is both about people making mistakes and about people making things right.”
Emil led all the squad mates around Machamp and he had them place their hands on his biceps. He would have just handed the Corporal the scissors, but he was pretty sure Machamp would’ve close-combated him to death over them. The big guy even wore his pink fuzzy champion belt for the event, would have been a shame to see that go to waste.
Everyone was silent, but they were listening, waiting for the next bit, and then he cleared his throat in what to him sounded like the loudest ahem ever projected on the planet. “Um… that’s all I have to say about that, sorry.”
Emil knew he made the right decision when everyone cheered and the energy lifted back off like a rocket. The Jennies, especially Corporal Shotgun, had turned into a bumbling gushing emotional mess as the scissors snapped the silk. The scissors snapped into four pieces because of how hard Machamp had cut the ribbon and reporters snapped high-flash photos as if the paparazzi had been summoned. Incineroar, finally getting her queue, spouted little celebratory firework displays from her claws and her mouth, able to put on one final show for her audience.
Vaporeon huffed in frustration in the bag, still wiping angry tears from her eyes. Those idiots had threatened his life and now he was sharing his glory with them!? {What sort of idiot did I mate myself to,} she thought aloud. But she still didn’t feel like she had made a mistake, no mater how many times she called him a moron under her breath. She had shown fear but she was ready to die to protect her Emmi from their guns, she had nearly lost something infinitely precious to her that day and now everyone was expecting her to just let it go. This garbage was exhausting, now all she wanted was to run back home where things made sense again.
Out in the crowd, by himself even though he had surrounded himself with a squad of his own officers, Lt. Steel slowly, very very slowly, unclenched his white-knuckled fists, allowing them to fill with color again.
That evening Emil, after a long and very tense ride back home, had turned the lights down low and turned on a playlist of ocean sounds. He had lit some lavender and cherry candles he knew Vaporeon liked and started running a hot bath. He even finally got around to hiding his stuff in his bedside drawer somewhere outside where Vaporeon couldn’t catch the stench of it.
She refused to interact with him at all and imply leapt out of the bag to curled up on the couch with her shoulders towards him, tail slumped down over the edge of the cushions.
He checked all the windows, like he made sure of every single evening spent with Vaporeon, as he thought about the day. Normally she was so full of pride and confidence, even at the start of the day she had been her normal royal self. Even when she was refusing to let him make any real intimate advances since the day she bit him, she still teased him back relentlessly and refused to leave him alone. He wasn’t sure why entirely without being a Pokeglott, but his best bet was that she didn’t feel strong like she normally was, and because she didn’t feel strong she didn’t feel beautiful either. Today, on top of all of that, she was made to look and act helpless in front of hundreds of men and mon. And not just any men or mon, her Audience even.
He walked over to the couch and knelt down by her. She shuffled around and met him with her backside once more.
“Vaporeon… ” He struggled to find the words. He had so many in his skull and yet none of them seemed to be of any good to him at that moment.
So, he decided, maybe it was time for him to shut the hell up and actually listen.
He reached his hand up to her shoulders and placed it there. She growled angrily, hackles flowing in a furious rippling pattern, and hissed.
He nodded, seeming to understood her. He ran his palm along her neckline, underneath her frills where he knew she liked the touch.
Then he gasped in pain as her maw was suddenly snapped around his hand, clamped down hard enough that he could feel his skin breaking tooth by tooth so little trickles of his blood lined her mouth like lipstick. Her head didn’t jerk, though. Instead she glared at him right in the eyes, a look that challenged his manhood more than his courage.
He nodded again and clenched his teeth. He understood her. He left his hand in her mouth, a sacrifice to her injured pride. His breathing was heavy, the pain was pretty bad but he could deal with it as long as she didn’t bite any harder. He slid closer to her and wrapped his other arm around her body. She snarled with big wet tears rolling down her cheeks as she gnawed on his hand, but she didn’t stop him as he embraced her warm smooth body. He pulled her into his chest, cradled her there on the couch, got in close to her ear fins where only they could hear each other; even if someone had snuck right there with them their secrets would still have been safe.
And yet still he said nothing. He planted a long slow little kiss behind her fins, nuzzled her neck, and rubbed her cheek with his palm. They sat like that for a long while, minutes probably, with her growling and gnawing and him soothing and loving on her, locked in an intimate speechless dance. Slowly her tail stopped thrashing in anger and slowly curled around one of his legs as the candle burned down, saturating the air in ways that reminded them both of things they appreciated in life. He smelled her. She was angry, but more than that he smelled something else on her. Was she scared? He’d never smelled that on her before.
Finally she released him and licked his palm in apology. He was bleeding some, but she didn’t hurt him very much. She’d only broken the skin. In the end, he knew she wouldn't hurt him, not really. She sniffled, her body finally relaxed, and then she snuggled into his chest as she licked his wounds and mumbled more of that nonsense mon-speech he’d heard from her in the square. No, he chided himself, it wasn’t nonsense, he just hadn’t understood it yet. He stroked her exposed underbelly and kissed her on the mouth. Not passionately, but gently, their lips barely touching at all. She locked eyes with him, capturing his soul in her amethyst gaze, and she replied with a kiss of her own; one just as gentle but cool and wet with her natural energies as she pressed his head closer to hers with the fins of her tail.
Emil is a quiet man with a well kept secret; he has little to look forward to but even less to complain about as he works his life away and puts up with his obnoxious wealthy neighbor.
That is until a once-in-a-lifetime sequence of events threatens to upend everything he has, should he go for the catch.
I'm having a hard time imagining how a fox like an eevee would have the dexterity/flexibility to vertically traverse under someone's clothing like that. XD
And how did their silhouette not show through the doctor's clothing at all times? How small are they? Or are we applying some general anime or cartoon logic here?
Cheers for crafting an incredibly captivating story btw!
I'm having a hard time imagining how a fox like an eevee would have the dexterity/flexibility to ver
