Koalas in the rain~ Koala, koala~
Koalas in the rain~ Koala, koala~
Blake Isley
The city was at peace. The gangs had been swept up and violent crime was at an all-time low. For once in what felt like forever, there was nothing to do. That was why when the Wards liaison called and asked if I wanted to do a joint PR event, I agreed.
Oh, I’d never sit around and sign autographs, but surprising a kindergarten class with some cute pokemon? Why not? That was more or less in line with what I enjoy doing anyway. Hell, the kindergarten they chose had a few kids from the Egg House in it.
I met Gallant and Clockblocker outside the Green Meadows Kindergarten and Day Care. They looked suitably heroic, fully armored and ready to inspire kids to share their snacks or whatever they thought they were supposed to do here.
“Hey, guys,” I greeted. What a strange world this was. In my old life, if three men in bizarre costumes stood around in front of a kindergarten, the cops would at least pay them a visit. Funny, that we were the cops. “What’s up?”
“Not much, Menagerie. How’s it going?” Gallant, Dean, asked.
“Pretty great. I’m a little surprised to see you two though. I would have thought it would’ve been Vista and Delphi they sent. They’re the youngest, right?”
“They are, but someone thought I was more personable and Clock’s great with kids.”
“What he means is, Vista threw a fit and Delphi isn’t so recognizable since she doesn’t actually come out much,” Clock said, shamelessly throwing Vista under the bus.
“Clock!”
“What? It’s Menagerie. It’s fine.”
“Still…”
I laughed as we went inside. Delphi, Dinah Alcott, had swiftly been inducted into the Wards. Last I heard, Armsmaster built her a set of speech-to-text earphones that prevented her from hearing questions she didn’t want to answer.
As for Vista… Yeah, that tracked. I was beginning to think that rather than simply hating being treated like a child, she was a closet adrenaline junkie who needed a thrilling life.
We were soon ushered into a large classroom. The floor was tiled with those foam puzzle pieces. Children, roughly two dozen of them, sat around haphazardly, but more or less in the center of the room. I recognized a few of them from my orphanage.
After a quick introduction, the teacher offered them a chance to ask us some questions.
“My name is Jeanie,” one little, Vietnamese girl said quietly. She was obviously the shy kid in the class, the one teachers had to nudge carefully. “Mr. Gallant, what happens if your armor gets dirty?”
“I have a tinkertech washing machine that wipes down my armor for me,” he said. Though no one could see his face, he spoke with a smile everyone could hear.
“Mr. Menagerie? I’m Shane. Why do you call them pokemon?” a boy asked. He was a little bigger than everyone else in his group. If he was any bigger, I would have wondered if he’d been held back for some reason.
“They’re ‘pocket monsters,’” I said, “or ‘pokemon,’ for short.”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Nope, one question per person, Shane,” the teacher chided. She then pointed at someone else. “How about you, Sam?”
A small boy with cropped hair pointed towards Clockblocker. “Hi, I’m Sam! Mr. Clockblocker, what does your name really mean? Mom won’t tell me.”
I choked on my own spit. I had no idea how I’d respond to that. Apparently, judging by the furious static I could overhear from Gallant’s headset, neither did whoever was overseeing the two.
Fortunately, Clockblocker was as witty as I’d been led to believe. He stood, thumped his chest proudly, and said, “Well, Sam, that’s because I stop time, and block the bad guys!”
“That’s not what my brother told me,” another of the kids, Sarah from my orphanage, said. “Derek says it’s because you have a little peepee.”
I clapped my hands loudly. The sound of softened leather resounded with a sharp crack across the room. “Alright! Who wants to see some pokemon?”
I nodded subtly as the teacher mouthed “thank you” from the back.
That was how I ended up shifting back and forth. With enough practice, I’d gotten to the point that unless I actively stressed my aura through combat or heavy exertion, I could shift in and out of different forms at will. And, since today happened to be a day for normal types, I offered to turn into any pokemon that looked like their favorite animals.
Of course, I turned into a stoutland, like someone’s dog. That wasn’t a very close match, apparently. There were so many types of dogs that a stoutland looked nothing like the one the kid had at home.
Then, Sarah wanted me to turn into a fox, so she got an eevee for a minute. I reminded myself to make Derek pay. Clearly, I’d let him have far too much leeway around the young ones.
And then came a boy named Liam, who was a big fan of monkeys. Being an ambipom was an odd experience. Its two tails were prehensile and the fingers at the ends could be fully articulated. The problem was, grabbing something with my tails kind of felt like grabbing things by clenching my buttcheeks. Awkward, would not recommend.
“I bet you can’t turn into a koala, Mr. Menagerie,” David, a boy who insisted on wearing a baseball cap backwards, challenged.
He reminded me of another boy I’d known in the past, one obsessed with rattata of all things. For whatever reason, that kid had gotten it into his head that his rattata was “top one percent” and destined for greatness.
I didn’t know about “destined,” but he kept challenging me, and predictably losing. Eventually, out of respect for his spunk if nothing else, I started giving him tips here and there. Last I heard, he’d cleared all eight gyms in Johto and competed in the Silver Conference with a “monster” of a rattata.
David had the same kind of energy. I laughed and decided to indulge him. I had just the pokemon, too.
“Alright, kid. Bet.” I held my hand in the air. “Shift, komala!”
And then, the world went black.
X
Dean Stansfield
I watched as Menagerie shifted into yet another pokemon. I’d seen several such transformations by now, each as interesting as the last.
One neat thing I’d noticed about Menagerie was that his emotions shifted with each form. It made sense in hindsight: Each pokemon seemed to have its own complete, distinct biology. He was always happy to play with the kids, but the exact blend of positive emotions changed with his forms. It was like seeing an array of tie-dye shirts, each as colorful as the last.
Except this one. He’d turned himself into a koala. He was a matte, cobalt-blue and came with a log that he seemed to be cuddling.
He was also asleep.
“Where did the log come from?” a boy asked.
“He turned into a monster truck before,” Clockblcoker said. “I don’t think anyone knows where anything comes from.”
“He looks asleep,” another pointed out.
“Nah, he’s just faking. Watch.” Clock nudged the koala. The log he’d been carrying tipped him over, turning him slowly onto his side. “Okay, Menagerie. Wake up, now.”
“He’s asleep for real,” I said. I had no idea how, but he was. “My sensors are telling me that he’s asleep. His emo-brainwaves are muted.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Okay… What now?”
That was the question. Truthfully, I didn’t know either. Menagerie had never done this before. Was he that tired? Why? He’d been fine a second ago.
The teacher looked at us, like we were supposed to have the answer. The children were quickly catching on.
“I guess we should try to wake him,” I said. I turned to the children. It’d be better if they thought this was a game. “Okay, on three, we’re going to shout, ‘Menagerie, wake up!’”
Clock clapped then held out his hands to keep count. “Ready? One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
“Menagerie, wake up!” everyone shouted. But it was no use. The koala remained dead to the world.
“How about you blast him?” my partner suggested. “You know, one of the weaker ones.”
I nodded. Laughter wasn’t an emotion, strictly speaking, but I could induce the same effervescent joy. “Okay, give me a sec.”
A small ray of light struck the koala. Rather than be gently jolted from slumber, he seemed to fall even deeper into his self-imposed coma. All I’d done was give him a sweet dream. I sighed. Maybe I should’ve gone with a nightmare.
This was supposed to be a simple PR event. Clock and I were supposed to spend the morning with kindergarteners, maybe read them a story or play some board games. Instead, here we were, trying to wake a magic koala.
“Wait, what are you doing, Sarah?” Clock asked.
One of the girls had walked up to the sleeping koala, only to land a smooch on his snout. “Mommy said the princess can only wake up with a kiss. So I’m kissing Menagerie.”
I swore internally. I’d gotten distracted. I grabbed the Australian drop bear out of her hand. He was surprisingly heavy. Without the servos that augmented my strength, I didn’t think I’d be able to lift him so easily. “He’s not a princess, sweetie. A kiss won’t work.”
“But he’s soft.”
That started a torrent of comments. “Ooh! I want to touch!”
“No, me!”
“Can we play dress-up?”
“Yeah! He needs a pretty bow!”
Clock did his best to divert their attention, but it was like holding back the sea. And the bear, the damn koala still clung to his log like it was the fluffiest pillow in the world.
That got me thinking. Menagerie’s pokemon seemed to work off strange trains of logic. The monster truck liked heavy metal. The rat could surf on power lines. The flower-dino could grow plants. So what if the koala’s posture was the clue?
If I removed his “pillow,” wouldn’t Menagerie naturally wake up?
It was as good an idea as any. I tried to pry the log from his arms, but that proved to be harder than expected.
When I grabbed the log, he had no trouble hanging from it like a sloth. So I palmed his head and the log in each hand and tried to separate them by force, but he had a death grip on that thing and I wasn’t getting anywhere. I doubted even Vicky could have done something here.
And then, I felt a shift in his emotions. There was a sharp spike of annoyance that made it through the muted dullness of his sleep. Faster than I could react, his little paw lashed out at my chest.
It was a casual slap, like scratching an inch or swatting away a fly. But it was still enough to send me tumbling ass over teakettle.
“Holy cr-smokes! Gallant!” Clock shouted, just catching himself from spoiling those young, impressionable minds. I was sure Console would appreciate his discretion. “You alright?”
My breath came in ragged gasps. I’d let my guard down. No matter what he looked like, this was the same man who dismantled the Empire in an afternoon.
We had orders to assume that every form was dangerous in some way, no matter how cutesy it looked. I’d forgotten and made a fool of myself.
“I’m good,” I wheezed, offering the class a weak thumbs up.
“Oh, good, because that was hilarious,” Clock said, laughing.
That was good. He set the tone for the rest of the class. The children laughed at me, but that was better than them being scared.
It was official. Menagerie could literally kick my ass in his sleep.
We tried a few more ways to wake him up. Clock dumped some water on him. A kid got in trouble for making Menagerie smell his fart. Eventually, we ran out of ideas, and with nothing to show for it but a still-snoozing koala.
With nothing else to do, we allowed the children to have their fun. The boys got tired of an unresponsive koala, but the girls had a blast playing dress-up. They did his nails, tied ribbons in his fur, and posed him with their dolls.
If a few of Clock’s pictures made it onto PHO, well, I decided to look the other way.
Soon, our little outreach event came to an end. Saturdays were short days. The kindergarten dismissed all children at noon so parents could go take them out to lunch, which left us in the awkward position of caring for a comatose koala.
We couldn’t wake him. We’d tried everything short of attacking him and the sore bruise on my chest told me that’d be a horrible idea. So, all out of options, we called in the cavalry, the one person who held the prestigious title of “Menagerie-wrangler.”
“Hey, Amy? I need a favor…”
X
Amy Dallon
I hated Dean. He was a pompous, sanctimonious ass who’d fooled everyone with his white knight bullshit.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have much choice but to take his call. He knew I hated him, so if he was calling, that meant he really saw no other option than to bug me. If I didn’t pick up, he’d just call Vicky and have her call me, and getting her to do him favors was disgusting.
Then, I heard that this was another “Menagerie incident.” I didn’t know which fuckwit decided everything Menagerie-related ought to be made my problem, but when I found out, I’d tie their nose hairs to their pubes.
I arrived at the kindergarten, grumpy as a drowned cat. I didn’t even get to enjoy a ride on air-Vicky because, in defiance of the blonde stereotype, she was off being smart and taking a class at the college. Instead, I was being ferried by Crystal. She had me scooped in her arms, with a carefully placed barrier to support my weight.
“Smile, Ames,” Crystal said. “It wasn’t the PRT so we know this isn’t life-threatening.”
“Yeah, which means I could be back home, taking care of my garden,” I huffed.
“The magic plants you and Menagerie made? How’s that going by the way? Got any more of those pecha berries?”
“Yup. I have a whole cobbler at home.”
“Aunt Carol cooks? Since when?”
“No way. I gave some berries to the next door neighbor in exchange.”
“Sweet! Gimme. Cousin tax. I demand payment.”
“Fine, but don’t tell Eric. I’m not sharing any more than I need to.”
“Sneaky. I like it.”
We landed and found… nothing wrong. Most of the children had been picked up by now, but there were a few here and there milling about. I saw a handful of young mothers talking to the teacher.
Gallant and Clockblocker stood near the playground. At their feet was a koala. Had I not been told, I honestly would have mistaken it for a stuffed bear.
“Wow, your boyfriend’s cute,” my cousin said.
“He’s… He’s something,” I replied, biting back a denial.
Gallant let out a sigh that was audible through his helmet. “Phew, you’re here. Can you wake up Menagerie?”
“Excuse me?”
“Wake him up. He’s been asleep since this whole event started. We thought he was just tired, but he won’t wake up no matter what we do.”
“You’re shitting me. You called me here because Menagerie is taking a nap,” I growled, ignoring the way a mother gave me the stink-eye for swearing. “Gallant, what the hell?”
“He’s telling the truth,” Clockblocker said. “We’re actually getting a little worried about him.”
I sighed. “If this is a prank…”
“It’s not. Just, can you wake him so we can all go home?”
“Fine.”
“Wait,” Crystal said. “Can I get a picture? He’s adorable.”
“There are plenty on PHO,” Clock replied. “We let the girls dress him up, too.”
“Ooh, that’s perfect!”
I shook my head in exasperation. My cousin was the most laid-back parahuman I knew. Parahuman, not cape, because Menagerie apparently wasn’t a parahuman. No, the idiot was the high priest of an alpaca-god or something.
I knelt and placed a hand on the koala. Admittedly, I was a little eager to touch a new pokemon, not that I’d ever tell anyone that. His biology opened before me, like a book filled with secrets and creative art only I could read.
“Well? How is he?” Gallant asked. More people had gathered around. What was it about people that made them flock to medical emergencies like vultures?
“Good news,” I said with faux cheer. “He doesn’t have chlamydia.”
“Mommy, what’s chlamydia?” one of the little girls asked.
“It’s the real Clockblocker.” Maybe impromptu sex ed wasn’t the best plan, but damn it, I was committed. “Over eighty percent of koalas have chlamydia. It makes peeing painful, like peeing lemon juice.”
“I-Is Mr. Menagerie going to die?”
“He might. You know, people say that sleep is the ‘little death.’ Maybe this is just him practicing for the real thing.”
“Panacea!” Gallant snapped. It was a glorious feeling. I was sure mom would find out and chew me out for this, but for now,, I’d bask in the chaos.
“Are you having fun? Because I’m having fun. Don’t you think calling me over without a life-threatening emergency is a horrible idea? I think it might be a horrible idea.”
“Ames,” Crystal said, in that same, ‘I’m very disappointed in you,’ tone that Aunt Sarah had. That was the true Pelham superpower right there. It could even make mom apologize. “Can you heal him or not?”
“Fine,” I grouched. “He’s fine. There’s nothing to heal because he’s biologically fine.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Look, this thing–”
“Komala,” Clockblocker said.
“Komala, is a pokemon that lives to sleep. I mean that literally. Its entire body is basically part of the autonomic nervous system. Meaning, it does everything without conscious input. It eats, shits, moves, and could probably even fight without waking up.
“In fact, I’d say there’s a huge problem if this thing wakes up. Just like being awake is the default state of being for a human, being asleep is the default state of being for a komala. I’m pretty sure that this thing was born asleep. Like, if Blake was a girl, he could theoretically give birth while asleep.”
“So he’s okay?” Crystal asked. She ran her fingers through his fur. “So soft…”
“He’s fine. And I can’t wake him. It’s like there’s a natural law that says he must remain asleep.”
“He even poops asleep,” one of the boys whispered, in awe at that revelation.
“Yeah… Converting his urine into simple sugars and sending it back into his body might be the dumbest thing I’ve done with my power,” I muttered.
“W-Well, in any case, we would like to formally relinquish custody of Menagerie into your care, Panacea,” the kindergarten teacher said. She even bowed politely.
“Yup, us too,” Clock added. “We have no idea what to do with him.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. I couldn’t even argue. Like it or not, I was the Menagerie expert. “Fine. Let’s get him out of here, Crys.”
My cousin formed a barrier around Menagerie and lifted him into the air. “Okie dokie. Where to, boss?”
“Ugh, you’re having way too much fun with this.”
“I am,” she replied shamelessly.
X
We headed to the Boat Graveyard. It wasn’t really that anymore, but the name stuck. Nowadays, I could see plenty of construction sites cordoned off from the general public. As per Menagerie’s wishes, a decent section of it was being left to low-income housing. It felt good, using our connections for something productive.
Crystal ferried us to the pier, off a ways so we wouldn’t be disturbed. “Now what?”
“Now we try to get him to change back,” I told her. “He should turn back into a human if we can wake him up.”
“Didn’t you say staying asleep was his natural state of being or something?”
“It is, but I don’t want to lug him around all day so we need him to change back. He should become a human again if we force him awake.”
“Sure… Like the frog prince? Go on, then, Ames. Give him a smooch.”
“No! Ew!” I yelped. Leave it to Crystal to jump to that!
“Ew? He’s your boyfriend. Don’t tell me you two haven’t even kissed yet,” she said. She must have seen something in my face because she added with a teasing smirk, “Maybe I should give him a kiss then? Amy~ You’re going to get your boyfriend stolen away~”
I flipped her off. It wasn’t like I expected to hide it forever, anyway. “Fine, so he’s not my boyfriend…”
“I figured,” she laughed. “Actually, I kinda guessed for a while now.”
“What gave it away?”
“You two bicker like an old married couple, but with none of the cutesy stuff I expect from young love, you know?”
“Whatever…”
“So?”
“So what?”
“Can I give him a kiss?”
“Crystal!” I swatted at her, only for her to fly out of reach.
“Hahaha, I’m kidding!”
“Flight is such bullshit.”
“How’d this start anyway? You two have been telling people you’re dating for a month now.”
“No, you’re going to laugh at me,” I muttered.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Okay, maybe a little. But it’ll only be a little family teasing! Practically obligatory cousin stuff!”
“Swear you won’t tell Vicky?”
“Pinky promise.”
I held her hand. “You know I know when you’re lying.”
“And I’m not. You know I can keep a secret.”
“Fine. I really didn’t want to go on any more double dates with Vicky.”
“Oof, seriously, Ames?”
“Hey, it sounded like a good idea at the time,” I defended.
“Do you even know who he is out of costume?”
“Of course! Who do you think I am?”
“And you’re not leading him on?”
“We agreed.”
“Fine, but you should still give him a kiss.”
“No.”
“Come on, what’s the harm?”
I looked at him. He looked so peaceful, sleeping there, cuddling his log. “Nope. I might get chlamydia.”
“Welp, guess we only have one choice left then,” Crystal said. She took a seat in front of the koala. Then, just when I thought Menagerie was going to get lucky in his dreams, she kicked the log, sending the koala into the water.
I lost it. I burst into laughter as I heard the loud splash. “Hahahahaha! Crys, what the hell?”
“What? He hasn’t even bought me dinner.”
“What if he drowns?”
“Is he going to?”
I shook my head. “No, his body reacts to danger. Still, that was fucked up.”
We peered over the edge. Sure enough, the log bobbed up and down. Even as we watched, it twisted until the koala was perched above the surface of the water. “Huh, what do you know… Any bright ideas?”
“You can always try to fight him. His power can run out.”
Crystal eyed the koala. “Wait, I just need to hit him really hard?”
“Easier said than done. He fights back. And since he’s asleep, he might not know to pull his punches.”
“Yeah, but I can fly. What if I beam him from the sky?”
“That… That might work, but be careful. Even I don’t know what that form can do.”
“Okay, let’s fish him out of the sea first. I don’t want to accidentally drown him if I break his log.”
Crystal set him back on dry land as I ducked behind a brick wall. After all the crazy shit he’s pulled, I wasn’t taking any chances.
My cousin flew into the sky. She hovered more than six stories above the ground and took aim. A crimson glow surrounded her hand before erupting into a beam of light that lanced into Blake’s sleeping form.
But rather than lie there and take it, Blake’s body glowed with a shimmering, white light. He then turned so the log faced upwards and began to spin on his back like the world’s cutest break dancer.
Laser met wood. And, against all logic, the wood won. Aura shimmered and sparked as Blake’s spin deflected the beam, scattering it like an umbrella fending off the rain.
It made zero sense. Crystal’s lasers did have a kinetic component, but it wasn’t something that could be scattered like a stream of water. If nothing else, it would have exploded, leaving a sizable crater in the concrete. I’d seen her do it enough times.
But here Blake was, doing the impossible again. I chalked this up as one more irrefutable proof that Blake did, in fact, worship a living god.
Aura, some superpowers, could be explained away as a bizarre form of natural selection. The fittest survived, after all, and pokemon were very fit for survival.
But no explanation existed for the existence of a creature whose sole biological mandate seemed to be sleep. No, only a trollish god would ever design a creature who would, if all things went well, never experience the world.
“Oh, think you’re tough, huh?” Crystal said. She was getting pumped up now. She held both hands out as an orb of light formed between them. “This’ll get you to wake up, Menagerie!”
My cousin had always had a competitive side buried beneath that nice girl act. Back when she first got powers, she’d chosen “Laserdream” as her name because she thought it sounded like a cool “super move” she could shout whenever she went all-out. She didn’t shout it anymore, but Aunt Sarah still had videos somewhere.
I looked at the koala, then at my cousin charging her “super move.” I briefly considered stopping her, then decided I didn’t care. If the komala had a ranged attack, Blake would have used it by now. The worst thing that would happen was that Blake would wake up with a headache.
The orb of light in her hand grew brighter. Then, so did Blake. For a moment, so fast that I almost thought I’d imagined it, a tether connected itself between Blake and Crystal. I still wasn’t good at sensing aura, but I didn’t need to be; he began to glow like a beacon even to my fledgling senses.
“Crystal! Menagerie is also powering up!” I shouted in warning.
“No sweat! I can dodge it,” she yelled back. “Now, take this!”
A column of crimson light shot down towards the sleeping koala, but it’d never reach its mark.
Blake’s entire body glowed black. He jumped from his log and, before the laser could find him, wove beneath it by a hair. He climbed into the air, four stories, then five.
For a moment, I thought I’d have to explain to Aunt Sarah how Crystal got ripped in half by a sleepwalking koala. Then, miracle of miracles, his ascent slowed, a mere two feet from Crysta’s height. I’d never been more grateful for gravity.
All that energy Blake had charged up had to go somewhere. His small, fuzzy paw, still clad in inky blackness, struck the ground with the deafening sound of shattering concrete.
When I poked my head out from behind the wall, I saw a crater large enough to park a car in.
“A-Amy?” Crystal said, voice trembling. “I-I think I’m done trying to wake Menagerie now…”
“Y-Yeah,” I replied. “Let’s just… Let’s just take him home. Fucker can wake up on his own.”
X
I stared at Blake on my dining room table. He was two feet of fluff and cuteness. If I told someone that this koala could break most capes like twigs, no one would believe me.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” my darling sister said. She’d arrived after her class at the college, only to find Crystal and I eyeing the sleeping koala like a bomb primed to go off.
“You weren’t there,” our cousin muttered, voice distant and haunted. Then again, if I almost died to a sleepwalking, smooth-brained, STD factory, I’d reconsider my life choices, too.
“Is he dangerous?” mom asked. Like everything else with her, it was more of a demand.
“No. The kindergarteners were dressing him up earlier,” I replied. “He’s only dangerous if you try to attack him and present a credible threat, like Crystal going all-out.”
“I bet I could take a crack at it,” Vicky said. “I can take whatever he can dish out.”
“You can, once. Besides, the house wouldn’t survive.”
“Fine. Ooh, can I dress him up? I still have some old dresses from when I was younger.”
I smirked. That sounded like a great way to gather some blackmail. “You know what? Go for it. There’s a gallery on PHO already but I’m sure you can add to it.”
Mom rolled her eyes and headed into the kitchen. She couldn’t cook, but she did have a ton of store-bought casseroles in the freezer. The microwave was the real chef in the Dallon household.
Dad was on the couch, watching a basketball game. He’d been much peppier lately, ever since I convinced him to eat a healthy oran berry shake each morning. He wasn’t “cured” of depression, mental conditions didn’t vanish overnight, but an overall healthier body was a great start.
Vicky and Crystal had a blast putting him in different clothes. They would have shaved his head into a mohawk if mom hadn’t put her foot down. They were about to glue pom-poms to his paws when it happened.
He Yawned.
X
Blake Isley
I woke up feeling rather refreshed. Perhaps I should have reconsidered the komala, but I got sucked into the moment playing with the kids and completely forgot about their comatose condition. I couldn’t find it in me to regret it though; I really did need that rest.
Still, I could have woken up in better circumstances.
I looked around. This was the Dallon home; I’d been here before. I was lying on their dining table, with a pair of pom-poms superglued to my armored hands. There was a clown nose on my faceplate, hair extensions had been glued to the sides of my helmet, and I now had a pink feather boa around my neck.
Crystal and Vicky were on either side of me, completely dead to the world. Judging by the many fashion accessories littered around them, they were the architects of my current predicament. I also saw Mark and Amy on the couch and Carol slumped back against the fridge.
Clearly, I’d only switched back when my specialization had shifted, which meant it was now midnight. I’d lost a full day but gained a restful sleep in exchange.
Off the top of my head, there were only a few moves that could knock a room full of people out cold like this. Since komala weren’t known for their singing voices, I could guess that I’d used Yawn in my sleep.
I ripped the clown nose off my faceplate, tossed the pom-poms away, and got off the table. Gently, so I wouldn’t wake the two, I positioned them side by side.
They really were gorgeous, and a part of me felt like I was intruding, seeing their sleeping faces like this. Though to be fair, they started it.
I rubbed my palms gleefully and reached for the glue. Fairy was my type today and “vindictive” was our middle name. I could think of one fairy in particular who had a penchant for song… and permanent markers.
Little did I know, this would kickstart a series of ruthless prank wars. It would spread like wildfire, covering all of Brockton Bay and involving every parahuman faction. It would go down in the city’s history, whispered among its populace in awe and horror.
The Brockton Games had begun.
Author’s Note
The idea was first proposed to me by Sea Bass. It lived rent-free in my head for a while so I wrote this in one of my free-write sessions.
A komala is only a foot tall according to the dex. Fuck that. The average height of a koala is 2-3 feet so I’m going with that.
Did you know a komala has a whopping 115 Attack stat? That’s more Attack than a kommo-o, lucario, snorlax, etc. Stats aren’t everything, especially in a narrative story, but I thought it’d be funny to play that straight.
Blake deflected Crystal’s first laser with Counter Shield, a trick Ash used since the Sinnoh arc. Basically, Ash’s squirtle shoots Water Gun into the air continuously while spinning onthe ground, creating a vortex that intercepts projectiles. Blake’s doing the same thing with Rapid Spin, while he’s asleep, because he’s bullshit like that.
Blake powered up using Psych Up, mirroring Crystal’s charge. He then used Sucker Punch, which uses dark type energy to strike first.
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