Pokemon Thoughts
His exploring in the places unseen by humanity inevitably brought him to his first haunted spot. He didn’t know this however; he just saw a good place to set up with a nicely aesthetic spooky woods around it.
He even found a new type of mons, poison type. He bonded with this bright pink spider about it and now it won’t go outside of five feet of him.
He didn’t mind- it was kind of a vibe. There were also a lot of snakes, a few live gunk piles, more mushrooms, some smoggy-ish circular pokemon that hovered above the ground and kept trying to nudge him friendlily, a giant purple skunk. (What was it with the color purple around here?)
He found the manor after about thirty minutes of wandering around, by complete accident. One moment he was in the woods, walking in the vague direction of a flash of movement he had spotted out of the corner of his eye that could very well have been some fog, and suddenly he was in a clearing, with a massive three-story victorian home looming over him, all dark wood and dusty details and gentle shadows.
There are different kinds of shadows. The kind you go to sleep with after a good workout or a nice story, though the kind after watching a horror movie is very different indeed. The kind that a kid is scared to get up to in case of the monster under the bed, or the kind that same kid closes their eyes to, all gentle innocence and warm safety. The kind that huddles in corners of the unknown, danger that may or may not be there.
And like here, where it was almost playful. Spooky, but the good kind.
The Addams family would approve.
He facing the front, massive double doors and musty windows staring at him in slight surprise. He adjusted his bag. Mr. Spider didn’t look at all surprised with this turn of events, so maybe he was just particularly dense this morning.
He stepped into the slightly thorny grass, stinging nettle and needle-like grass points brushing on his jeans. The front steps were slightly loose, and he skipped over the second one, eyeing the loose nail. The door opened fine, if with a squeak loud enough to announce his presence to the entire house.
It looked pretty normal for a random house in the middle of the spooky forest- a faded red rug ran through the middle of the entry hall, with two oak tables to each side, mysteriously blooming flowers in ornate crystal jars. He wandered closer to get a better look, and felt a vaguely protective vibe, and backed off. Fair enough. If a servant or something from forever ago really liked their flowers, he wasn’t about to argue.
Four doors, one to each side of the stairs and two on either side of him by the doors. A glance to the right one, slightly ajar, showed an ancient kitchen, reasonably large, with ceramic tile and steel everywhere. A slight clatter from inside by the giant stove was enough to get the message across, and left it alone.
A… candle? with a blue flame? bobbed it’s way towards him, and he barely managed to keep it from singing his boots before kneeling down to greet the little guy.
“Hi. Aren’t you spooky, huh?” A gentle finger on the wax, and he felt no heat despite the clearly hot flame just inches from him, the very tip burning purple. Impressive.
“Cool.” He breathed under his breath, and the flame flared. The little face carved into the wax smiled at him, and he grinned back, ignoring the slight Beauty and the Beast flashbacks.
Sentient candle, sure. He could get with that.
A purple wisp pulled the door opposite to the kitchen open, and he obediently walked over, Little Candle Dude hopping along, apparently struggling with the whole ‘levitation’ deal.
He eyed what looked like an old parlor, with loveseats and couches and cigar trays. Mustiness hit his nose in a wave, and he snorted to clear out any dust.
And stopped breathing.
A giant purple blob-gas-thing had hurtled out from behind the door, wrapping around his entire line of sight as it spread out.
Then it turned back to a circle, backed up a bit, and a vague face emerged, looking vaguely concerned. He revived his lungs, ignoring any flashbacks that might happen that definitely weren’t to an animated princess movie that time.
“I- right. Sorry, buddy, I’m hard to scare. And I don’t really scare like other people anyway. Good ‘boo’ stance, though.” It’s eyes winked in and out of sight, like it was blinking incredulously at him.
It hovered a bit more forward, and he reached out a hand. It indeed felt like mist, with a slight resistance to it as he waved his hand. It moved back, as if vaguely annoyed.
“Sorry. Curious.” He considered the creature (ghost? It wasn't changing color, but a faint outline of neon like Kala how shimmered past that purple gas) for a second. “If you’ll let me, I’ll call you Jupiter. You can tag along if you like, I’m apparently interesting.” He looked over at the fire rat, which had a small explosion-like ball of fur gathered on it’s back, meekly peeking past the doorway at them. He waved, and it made a vague squeaking motion and ducked out of sight.
He’d have to give him emotional support cuddles in a second, then.
The parlor didn’t seem to have anything else to offer, so with Jupiter hanging back by a few feet to meet his little crowd, he went on. One door by the closet revealed a fridge, the sawdust remaining with the ice-long-gone. Different old foodstuffs lined the shelves, and a vague chill still kept to the air despite the obviously drafty walls and warm(ish) hallway. He saw a flash of movement among the boxed stuff, like a living ice cream cone, and decided he’d let Rose and Company introduce themselves if they were shy, let them get the lay of the land. He could understand not wanting a weird, big stranger in your space. He left the door cracked and watched Prim scurry in with a passing chitter of thanks.
The other door was a hallway, old jars holding chemicals, some spare candles, (not alive this time) dusting/cleaning supplies including a basket full of rags, and folded holey towels. On top of the little pile of off-white fluff was a small stump, little whisps of darkness like the summertime sky pooling out into a vaguely humanoid shape, like a small child.
It was curled up in an imprint in the towels, forming a fluffy nest, slumbering away.
Was it human? Once human? It also had a glow of death, and judging by how Kala and Jupiter were playing tag behind him, the dead could interact with these guys fine.
A nudge against his boot. He looked down, and there was Candle. He needed to name him, huh?
Anyway, the little guy hopped forward, it’s flame went a bit lower, and it started to slowly hover higher into the air. He guessed he (she? They? None of the above?) needed the energy from the fire to float.
It settled by the towels with a slight thump, and hopped up the tower and nudged the little stump-thing.
It stirred, and looked up into Candle’s silhouette. It made a vague sighing sound, so it could feel the warmth, and melted back into sleep, totally boneless. Candle turned back around to him with something like a shrug, and snuggled back into the stump’s form.
He left that door open for the rest of the gang to look at with a ‘sh’ sign in their direction.
Naps are to be respected.
Upstairs was larger than downstairs, or maybe there was a secret passage or something into the backrooms, like a servant’s quarters and storage. He found a glamorous secondary stairway to a large, ornate ballroom with a floating chandelier, presumably Candle’s cousin. He waved, and it bobbed up and down in greeting. Several other spirits tried jumping-scaring him, and he commented on how cool they were, and on he went. Dusty bedrooms, a bathroom with a tub with an actual place to light a fire underneath, (???) something that might have been once an animal room, with a completely torn apart door, shelves that were now mostly only suitable for kindling (he made a quick bundle for tonight. Free dry firewood is great to find all in one place) and several hand-made pokeballs- some were woven out of grass and reeds, others of fired clay, one of carefully interconnected stone. Hell if he knew how they worked, but he gathered them up anyway. After some quick testing (immediately releasing whatever was caught, of course) he found they were more specialized than regular ones, the one woven of plants could only capture grass types, the rock one could somehow fit Mr. Rock Rhino, (who was politely waiting outside, sniffing around the small clearing the house had created) the clay ones were more general- they could nab Rose and Prim, as well as a snake, his new spider friend, and a ‘geodude’ as a kid in town had called ‘im. He wasn’t fully sure if that was a joke or not, but for now he was going with it.
However, when trying to fit Dude’s cousin, a version of him that formed a sort of snake-like body towering over him, it cracked, broke in half, and released the freshly named Geode, so maybe that had a size/power limit or were fragile or something.
They went in the pack among his changes of clothing for padding.
The house was pretty cool, if a bit predictable once you accounted for the (maybe) ghosts. He found a cool golden oblong coin-trinket thing dropped in one corner of the faded carpet, a revive (and isn’t that weirdly telling?) on top of a dresser, some weird stone-mineral thing with a weird swirl of color in the middle he pocketed as a cool thing to hold onto.
At one point a pumpkin-like mon hopped in the hallway and played hopscotch with a not-pikachu- something covered in a cloth fashioned to look vaguely like a pikachu if you were legally blind. A dapper purple (again with the purple) ghost with a robe-like form and a brimmed hat insisted on a quick dance in the ballroom. There was also a mummy in the cellar that opened its eyes sleepily when he walked down, so he respectfully herded Candle back upstairs to let him sleep. Did Egyptian mythology affect things around here or was this world made of a weird collage or silliness and thoughtlessness?
The tree-trunk-toddler had woken up by the time he wandered back downstairs- joined in on the hopscotch game too. He introduced himself, and they shook hands even though it felt vaguely ridiculous. He was getting better and better at ignoring that feeling.
The ‘jigglypuff,’ Fae, had taken well to the little guy- apparently the ability to put the child-like fellow to sleep anytime was valuable to everyone involved.
He surprised that the Trunk Toddler would be tagging along, and handed the little tyke a gummy. He was delighted (and recognized it immediately- the colors of a dead spirit flaring, further proving that this mon was actually a dead kid) and happily sucked on it messily, sticking it halfway in his mouth with wide eyes.
He smiled gently, and swatted at Rose (now Bastard) when she cooed at him. He wasn’t soft, not sir.
Eventually he found out the concept of crime did actually exist in this whack world, despite the fact everyone seemed to use a limited number of brain cells at a time.
Appropriately, (thankfully) they were exactly as short-sighted and dumb as their civilian counterparts.
His first run-in with any crime at all was with a pair of odd thugs trying to rob a shop without much success. They’re dressed oddly- unlike the rest of the adults (the kids seem to not absorb any sort of fashion sense until they hit their twenties, which is unfortunate) they’ve almost got a theme goin’- blue jeans or slacks, a navy bomber over a plan t-shirt (half zipped, for some reason) and even matching blue hats and hightops- the girl had a beanie, the boy a baseball hat.
He hovered by a nearby house awning, watching the scene unfold. Truthfully, it seemed pretty tame; no one had even pulled out a mon, let alone a weapon.
So far the store clerk, an incredibly boring man he didn’t know the name of but was as bland as white bread (and the same racial profile too) and was facing down the pair with such indifference Grim was starting to question if he was entirely present mentally. This wasn’t bravery, this was some odd mix of denial and stubbornness.
He catches sight of mon poking out of the girl’s canvas bag flap- a little egg-like pokemon, curled up with the telltale sign of poisoning. And the thugs were reaching for the antidotes first.
He sidled up, threw 300 on the counter (that wasn’t even half the amount for a soda, he’d manage without) and asked for an antidote. He ignored the glaring from all sides of the equation, got handed the item and turned to the girl.
“Here. I can understand bein’ desperate, have a nice life or whatever.”
And he walked away.
Crime doesn’t happen where desperation dies. Greed and evil are weeds that grow in cracks in the concrete, watered by pain, loneliness and betrayal.
Look at him being all poetic. He should tell that to Fae, he could make a song off the concept. ‘Course he’d have to have the lyrics translated first from poke-speak, (because these guys could totally communicate among each other) but like worth it.
He got about three steps out of town before being ambushed.
The male of the two lurched into view from behind the small gate on the edge of town, immediately throwing down a pokeball to either initiate a battle or threaten him. Either way, he had to stick around.
He shrugged and threw out Bruce, (nanananana BATMAN) the insomniac owl, from his ball. He knew how to dodge, and had had a pretty good night, so he probably wouldn’t be asleep.
He was relieved to see the little bird standing up, wide awake, when the light cut out. Goodie, he would have felt super rude otherwise.
Bruce chriped at him, and he pointed to the guy across from him. “Yeah, I know, you wanted to nap. This guy wants a fight to make me hang around, and you need exercise, so could you…?” The little guy seemed to pout at the idea of him needing exercise, but obliged. And he was glad, because Rose totally would have beat him on the nose with a wing for that comment.
Bruce pecked at the nidoran (an actually decent and creative name for the squat little poison boi)(ALSO PURPLE, WHAT IS GOING ON) for a minute or so before getting bored or tussling and heading into the air for a few dives to test the little guy’s jumping skills. Surprisingly good, actually- he leaps in the air when Bruce gets to low, trying to bite or scratch the dude.
Bruce is getting increasingly unimpressed with Grim. He’ll have to bribe him with berries later.
Grim looks over at the guy, mildly confused. “So like, are we going to talk, or stand here in awkward silence…?” He straightens up, focusing.
“You helped M- my partner.”
“Sure did, that’s me. I’m the weird kid, you found me.” He was pretty comfortable with being the weirdo wherever he went by this point.
The man blinked, made a small surprised sound, but soldiered on. “I- we-” A small groan. “We- wanted to thank you. She- really cares about Fairy, her Togepi. Alot. And we don’t have many items, so uh…”
“So you tried to steal ‘em, yeah, I know.” He’s also comfortable with using stealing when necessary. Most because his friends have been doing it to survive for years.
He brings back Bruce, who is perfectly comfortable to go back to brooding as his brain refused to sleep. “Well, now that that’s settled, I’ll see ya around or whatever. Don’t bother with the ‘I owe you’ whatever, I may be poor, but that’s pocket change, man.” He turns to leave, then hesitates.
“Hey, what’s with the theme you’ve got goin’?”
He gets a well-appreciated crash course of the admittedly pitiful crime scene of the area- there are different gangs, excuse him, ‘Teams’ with different goals to each one. These two belonged to team Aqua, who claimed their main thing was trying to flood the world, but in reality was this weird rivalry with Team Magma, who was trying to turn the entire globe to land. (he had to hold off so bad from the science rant, he could feel it coming) There was also Team Rocket, who had no clear goal past ‘MONEY’, Galactic, which was some cult involving ‘the world is f*cked, so let’s make a new one’, Plasma, who believed that pokemon should stay separate from humans because they’d woken up to the whole animal abuse thing, (but were still hypocrites so they had a way to go) Skull, also the capitalistic type, and Rainbow Rocket, which is just Team Rocket, but Hawiaan. And therefore more colorful.
However, Team Rocket non-Hawiaan was basically a joke; their leader had fled the country after being beaten up by a pre-teen, and when no replacement leader took his place the entire thing kinda went sideways. They ended up splintering into smaller roving bands, weak and desperate.
He asked if that kind of thing happened a lot, because he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around all that, and the guy, who had introduced himself as Miko, and his partner (in crime, not life. Or maybe also in life, unclear) as Kisake, (Ki-Sah-Kee) which was fantastic he would be exclusively referring to them (externally) as Sake. Anyway, he got a funny look on his face and said people said Team Aqua and Magma were broken up too, but they were totally still a thing, and suddenly Grim was having an intense flashback to listening to a girl in denial sob about they had to still be together over the phone next to a gas station.
Kisake wasn’t thrilled about her nickname, which was a shame. “It’s dumb. And you’re not even pronouncing it right.” She pouted for a second, but then her Togepi frowned and babbed her on the chin with one round paw and that got her smiling again at the little tyke.
“Besides, who’d you even come up with that, kid? That stuff’s for adults, and you’re what, fourteen?”
“Fifteen.” he replied smoothly, rather pleased that things weren’t as desperate as they were back home. “And it’s for everyone when you’re injured and dirt poor.”
They both had a shared look of understanding at that, but tried interrogating him anyway. “How’d you get hurt that bad? You’ve got tons of pokemon, and they love ya.”
He ignored Bastard, who was definitely not pecking at his ankles to further that point.
“I didn’t always. And I don’t need a bird or a rat to do the fighting for me.” He grinned dangerously in their direction. Bastard twittered, pleased at that remark.
“They love it; it’s like comradery or whatever. I don’t need a technicolor bug to do my fighting for me, no sir.”
They left about fifteen minutes later, and he went back to his hermit ways comfortable in the fact that he had the start to a decent scope of things.