Xan caught a Vulpix! Earlier, it was in the last post...
Name: Sphinx
Gender: F
Moveset: Tail Whip, Disable, Quick Attack, Spite, Incinerate, Confuse Ray
Ability: Flash Fire
There simply wasn't enough time in the day to devote to every idea that came to mind following the many impactful events that occurred at the Motostoke Gym. Kass the now-Kadabra had a slew of improved and entirely new abilities to discover and examine. The Vulpix caught during the Gym Mission seemed somewhat enticed by the prospect of staying, and though there certainly wasn't enough time for a proper assessment of all her current abilities (that'd have to be sorted out later) there had been enough time between breaks to brainstorm a name: Sphinx. Xan had heard that the Vulpix line tended to exhibit psychic tendencies as they grew, so by all means the entire Gym experience had been a massive success - in spite of any actual League verdict on the outcome. They'd have to try to beat Kabu again later, but that could wait.
Sphinx had been a little bit confused by the induction process, though Jerry could attest to it all being standard procedure. It was made clear to her that the agreement into which she was entering was not the standard trainer/Pokémon fare, nor was it anything akin to close friendship or, goodness forbid, pet-like. The role of a research partner meant consent to an examination of one's psychic progress - which was by no means particularly intrusive. Still, science must be conducted in an ethically sound way, with no ifs, ands or buts. Xan's role was to conduct said examination, and to provide assistance and consultation. Xan would also provide catering and shelter to the best of their ability. Participation in battle would be encouraged but not compulsory. There was also some limitation of liability stuff to do with danger. A reservation of Xan's right to use a partner's Pokéball in the interest of safety and such. Disclaimers about research partners being permitted to exit the agreement at any time, being released immediately or in a place of the partner's choosing (within reason) upon request. Though not entirely what she was expecting, Sphinx gladly entered the agreement in the interest of growing stronger. Xan recorded a paw print in a bit of ink.
Although a new member was certainly not unimportant, most of the focus was on Kass and their new abilities. Xan figured that observing Kass, who was as experienced in the process as Xan was, would serve as a good example for the Vulpix. Experimentation and the research borne of it lasted long into the evening, and the longer it went the less the protests of various stomachs could be ignored. Tangential to the research came two important discoveries: first, that focus on science had meant the group had forgot to eat - or rather, the cook (Xan) had forgot to prepare anything - and second, the group had forgot to go shopping - or rather, the shopper (again Xan) had forgot to go out and buy anything - and so there wouldn't be anything to eat come morning, either. The hotel could provide food, but it was generally expensive if not simply overpriced. And with only one Gym victory out of three under Xan's belt, the psychic feared a tightening of their budget and figured a quick trip out to whatever convenience store was still open would be preferable.
The journey to the shops was filled with quiet, whispered chattering amongst the three Pokémon of the group while Xan forged ahead in front. While not unusual for the antisocial human, in this case it was particularly understandable seeing as they were the one with the directions and also without the ability to understand whatever shared language Pokémon used. Sphinx seemed to be getting along with Kass (Xan had yet to meet a being on this Earth that wasn't a feral wild who didn't get along with Kass) well enough. The Jerry front was a little more up in the air - whether that was due to a grudge over the Water Pulse, due to Jerry being Jerry, due to simply lacking Kass' raw charisma or due to an actual conflict in their personalities it was hard to tell. Either way it was a little too early to say for sure. Every now and then Xan and Kass had a momentary back-and-forth about the ever-emerging changes they were noticing in the Kadabra's power. Either observations, perceived improvements to the detail of the Psi Pokémon's telepathy and psychic senses, or ideas for the future, a new experiment to undertake on the precision of Kass' telepathy or a thorough examination of their new proficiency in psychoconjuration.
Once they reached the store and filled up on groceries the team made a quick exit, eager to return home and get some food. Alas, there was an obstacle in their path. In front of them stood late-dinner's-bane, the ultimate distractor who would run around and make noise and stuff: a barking Herdier. The Loyal Dog Pokémon hadn't been there as the group were entering the store, Xan remembered. Had the Herdier just arrived? Were they a stray or what? Xan was inclined to stick with the plan and have Kass teleport them all back home, but the others seemed to all have different ideas and none of them were agreeing either. Kass was walking over to see what was going on, Jerry was blinking, barely moving in either fear or befuddlement and Sphinx was letting out a couple of aggressive yips. Great.
"It's only a Herdier, guys," Xan sighed. "Are we heading back, or what?"
Kass, who had begun speaking in quiet 'Kadab's and 'Abra's to the Herdier, turned back to Xan at the human's question. After some 'Her's and 'Herdier's from the Herdier, concepts were thrust into the forefront of the psychic's perception. Importance, danger, follow. Fair enough, Xan didn't need to be told twice.
"Ah, for fuck's- all right, say no more. Let's go."
Kass and the Herdier took off, and Xan followed at a brisk walk, jogging every now and then. Were they getting used to exercising like this? Decidedly 'eh, sorta'. Sphinx's demeanour had shifted as the situation changed and followed along as well. Jerry's demeanour remained exactly the same but waddled behind nonetheless. On they traveled through further darkening streets littered with… well, litter. Street lamps brought with them varying amounts of illumination depending on their state of disrepair. Minutes passed to the backing track of scuffed footsteps, whirring and clonking machinery and, increasingly, running water. Eventually the Herdier stopped, signalling the end of the group's journey with a single bark and a pained whine.
Oh. Xan was worried it would be something awful - and it kind of was - but it was a situation that was easily rectifiable with a Kadabrambulance involved. Xan had followed the loyal dog's gaze to below them, in the canal, where they spotted something seemingly caught on a stationary boat. A child of some description, they guessed - must have fallen in, how long had they been there? Were they even conscious? The psychic couldn't tell from this distance.
"It's a warm night but it's not
that warm - Kass, you see the body down there?" At Xan's question the Kadabra looked over and nodded. "There's the problem. Rescue time - psychoportation should make that no problem. If they're still conscious, we should get them up here and I'll give them my hoodie or something and they should be fine. If they're not it's probably bad news and you need to get them to a hospital as soon as you can."
"Dabra," Kass delayed no further. In a moment they were gone, down at the canal, and in the next both Pokémon and child were gone. Just running water and mechanical noise to listen to as the tension fled. Not truly gone, just hiding unsubtly like a toddler peeking out from around a corner.
"Uh… right. Kass didn't come back up here to take us all there," Xan put a fist to the front of their helmet awkwardly. Jerry coughed. "Makes sense a little, but- fuck. Okay. I guess we're walking back. But Kass still had one of the fucking shopping bags - are we heading to the hospital, then? I think they're - I'd better double check the map..."
With a little map-consultation and a grateful but slightly awkward addition of a Herdier alongside the group, Xan, Jerry and Sphinx set off again. A little grumpy, knowing that they should have been eating a while before now, but taking solace in knowing that they were at least doing the correct thing. They could only hope collectively that it would all turn out okay. Xan figured that although the situation they were currently in was unfortunate, at the very least Kass booking it straight to the hospital meant that Kass would get all the glory for the rescue - and Xan wouldn't have to bother with any of it. Swings and roundabouts. They liked their brain better than their stomach anyway - the former betrayed them less.
It became a bit more evident why Herdier had had to go so far to find help: the streets out this way were deserted at the moment. It made sense: it was the middle of the night after all, and this part of town seemed to have next to nothing on offer for the nightlife crowd. The streetlights present at regular intervals were some of the only lights here to suggest human habitation. Which is why it was all the more noticeable when heavy footfalls fell in behind Xan's own. Sphinx was the first to react to the new presence; she turned and yipped aggressively at the stranger: a tall, stilt-limbed man in long pants and a hooded coat. Xan peered over one shoulder, looked the stranger up and down, then turned their gaze down to address the Vulpix, peeved.
"Sphinx, why the fuck are you
yelling at people? Do you want to head back and eat or not?"
"You are missing someone," the stranger said in a deep voice. He was some distance away but had stopped at Sphinx's yapping. Yet out of the light of the nearest streetlight, his face under his hood was invisible, though he, worryingly, had one hand held inside his coat flap.
"Yeah I'm not buying anything, bye," Xan murmured dismissively. They resumed walking and motioned the others to follow. Sphinx and the Herdier kept looking back to eyeball the gangly mystery-man. The mons saw the man drop something black and heavy from his coat to the ground, and in the moment it took them to process it, the stranger had already flung something from his pocket. It zipped through the air like a Passimian's fastball, whizzing over Xan's head and bursting into light in the psychic's path.
With a heavy thud there was a Stonjourner standing in Xan's way, holding its own ball. Jerry quacked and waved. "I'm not selling, either," the stranger growled.
"Wow. You're subtle." the psychic drawled. They stopped and turned to face the mysterious figure, a little on edge. "Correct me if I'm wrong - this is a threat, right? Did you bring a weapon, or anything?"
The black thing the man had dropped was now balancing on its wheel to his side, regarding Xan with a staring eye, aglow in the dark: a Rolycoly, and not a gun. "Where has your Kadabra gone, Xan?" the man asked heavily. "I don't believe you can run from this without your Kadabra."
"
Oh," Xan exhaled, and all the uncertainty in their tone vanished in an instant. They passed one of their shopping bags to the other hand to leave one free to lift their phone from their inside pocket. "Well, as you apparently know, usually I'd be gone by now. But unfortunately for the both of us, here we are. Look, I'm going to level with you - I need you to listen closely because I need to be sure you understand the situation you're getting into here."
The man didn't seem to be very interested in Xan's warning, because now he was approaching with long, deliberate strides. "I think you need to understand, Xan," he said strongly, cutting the psychic off as he approached. "What do you do when you're in danger and you can't run? Don't tell me you think cops can get here and bail you out before I've gotten ahold of you?" Rolycoly crept closer alongside the stranger, red eye staring at Xan's helmet. Xan heard Stonjourner shift its weight a little behind them, waiting. Sphinx resumed yipping in earnest, the Herdier began barking, and Jerry seemed to be starting to get nervous.
"Look- I'm trying to
help you," Xan pleaded, frustrated. They dropped their shopping to their side and stepped away from it, then gestured to their phone. "This
is for the police. I'm
recording so that they know I tried my best. People are a lot less sturdy than Pokémon generally are and I don't make a habit of trying to hurt them - I just need you to understand that if you keep walking at me, I can't guarantee your safety. I'm offering you an out. For both our sakes, take it - I'm hungry."
The man and his Rolycoly stopped about ten feet away. His face was hidden behind both a bandanna and, bizarrely, a pair of thick, opaque sunglasses. "Intimidation doesn't suit you, Xan. You talk awful big, but until you can shoot lightning from your forehead you're not going to stop the
real brutes." The man sent his fist into his other hand, a harsh smack of sound audible over Sphinx's yapping. "Tell me truthfully: what would you have done if I'd pulled a gun on you? Don't tell me you were going to threaten me with a recording of yourself being shot."
The phone returned to the psychic's pocket as they took stock of the surrounding area, "A gun? I'd have surrendered, that's why I fucking
asked. This isn't
intimidation, you haven't shown me a gun or some overwhelming Pokémon so I'm
charitably telling you you're not prepared." Xan's Pokédex came out of the side pocket of their backpack. "You want to pull one of those things out? Do it already and save us all the trouble, I'd rather get it over and done with."
The man looked away. "I haven't shown you a gun and you haven't shown me
telekinesis," he said pointedly. The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And you've just told me outright that you are so unprepared for me to have, say, a gun, that you would surrender on that fact alone. You even asked me if I had a weapon." The man turned his faceless face at Xan dangerously. "And I didn't answer you."
The psychic scoffed, annoyed, "Okay smartass - yeah, look at me, the person who doesn't have a plan to not be killed by a gun. The device invented with the express purpose of killing people- surprise surprise, they work, but only on me? You've pulled the rug from under me, here; I thought you were some thug, I didn't realise you were here to mock my lack of immunity to bullets-" They paused, a thought occurring to them. "This isn't about the kid, is it? They're safe, you know. The Kadabra isn't a kidnapper."
"How can you be so dismissive?!" the man boomed suddenly. His voice rolled out like a thunderclap, shutting both Herdier and Sphinx up in surprise. "What, one bullet, anywhere on you, and your heart stops? Is that it? You just give up? What happens to them"—he gestured at Jerry, Sphinx, and Herdier—"if you just surrender yourself to some gunman in the night with nary a soul for half a mile in any direction to intervene?" The man straightened up as he shouted. Xan hadn't even noticed the man had been slouching, but the effect as he grew to his proper height, ten feet away and booming at volume, was palpable. He didn't give Xan a chance to cut in either. "Does that not distress you at all? Do they mean that little to you, do they? Well, Xan, you and I are going to have a battle. Right here. Now. But not with your mons, Xan, since that's all the more you think of them."
The man rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck, Rolycoly backing away in earnest. "We're having a battle between
us Xan. Choose one of your mons to be your overseer, to give
you the commands. Show me they think more of you than you do of them. Beat me senseless, since you seem to think you can!"
"It's not the beating senseless, I-" Xan hesitated. The Herdier and Sphinx switched to confused growls. Jerry looked up at the human in wonder; this was the most bewildered the Psyduck had ever seen them. "You're not… a threat, to me- It's not that I don't appreciate that lot over there, I just think you're...
vastly underestimating how
easy it is to kill a human being with a gun. Surrendering and just losing money and possessions and the like is preferable to getting myself and all my companions killed - maybe not the Kadabra, precognition and psychoportation go a long way, but they're not here- what are you-? Who
are you? What fucking
angle is this?"
"
You underestimate how unhinged, illogical,
bloodthirsty a human being with a gun can be, Xan."
"I- if they're
bloodthirsty they can just
kill me whether or not I surrender!?"
The stranger started to slouch again. "So you're not going to fight me, are you, Xan?"
"I'd rather not have to deal with the police
and further delay my dinner, thanks. I-" The psychic paused. Without Kass around, Jerry was their next best bet. Xan sent the Psyduck a telepathic message, trying to get across the question of if Jerry or the other two could tell if this stranger was under the influence of some kind of drug. Jerry shrugged, either a negative or not understanding the question. Damn it. "Er- okay, you just wanted to
fight me? Is that it? No underlying reason for that, or anything-? You know, are you going to bother stopping us if we just leave?"
The Stonjourner behind Xan seemed ready to bar the way, but its Trainer had grown visibly less-threatening. Rolycoly's staring now seemed more curious than unsettling. Herdier's growling eased up, though Sphinx's didn't. "I should beat you," the man said at the ground. "I should pound you senseless, leave you here in the street so you wake up bloodied and feel the aches for weeks. But …" He looked up at Xan and then back at the ground, sighing miserably. "I can't do it. Not to you, Xan. I owe you too much." He put his hood down and pulled down his bandanna to reveal a thick, black mustache. "I'm so sorry, Xan."
Oh. Oh, it was Tim. Well, yikes, he'd seemed downright reasonable the last time they'd met. That was upsetting. And that must mean the Stonjourner was Henj - at least, Xan hoped it was still Henj. Goodness, they hoped it was still Henj. What the hell had happened to Tim in the time between-? Actually, looking back on it Tim hadn't looked too great the last time they'd crossed paths either, so perhaps this all checked out.
"For what it's worth," Xan began, quickly losing any confidence that their following statement would be reassuring - and honestly, after these events, they weren't even sure how much they wanted it to be. "I don't think you'd have been able to - unless, like, what, do you know some hexing or something? If you're psychic too that's great, but you should know that psychic is awful at hurting psychic, that's just a stalemate."
Tim waved his hand, looking away. "If you were capable of holding creatures or shooting lightning or some such you would have employed such techniques to catch your Vulpix at the Gym. You're not the sort, I feel, to just hide such powers if they stand to be of meaningful use in the moment, and they certainly would have been."
"-Yeah, you don't know what sort I am?" Xan cut in indignantly. "And please don't insult me with your sub-par understanding of the capabilities of psychic power, thanks."
Tim kept talking as if he hadn't heard Xan. "I saw you stop a ball one time and restart its movement, I don't think that would do to get through thick clothing." Tim sighed though, disinterested in arguing further. "I am … I am so sorry, Xan. Not only did I put you through such a stupid encounter, I couldn't even follow through with it." He returned Henj. Rolycoly wheeled up to him, like a fly following filth. "I won't hold you any longer, but I would walk with you. One last time. I have a story to tell you, and a question to ask at its end. I know you think very little of me, and after this I imagine I will never again work up the nerve to come anywhere near you. But this last affront I ask, Xan." Tim looked thoroughly dejected at this point, like a poltergeist's attempt to animate a load of dirty laundry.
"I- look," Xan bowed their head in thought and spread both their palms out toward the floor. "I'm only saying this because you seemed, at one point,
pretty reasonable. It's- Tim, it's not
difficult to just,
not threaten people with assault. It's so easy to just ask people favours if you genuinely need something. This… dramatic be-all-end-all bullshit is
so hyper-unnecessary. Just- look, I'm not a doctor. I'm not trying to insult you, but you don't look great. A minute or two again I was prepared to send you to the hospital and now I'm feeling like you maybe should anyway."
Jerry blinked uneasily at the conversation happening before him before his gaze trailed down. He gave Pelj the Rolycoly a wave and a quack of greeting. The little Rock took the gesture as an invitation to hop up and down excitedly and titter nonsense at the duck, and then at Sphinx and Herdier for being nearby. She seemed excited to have other mons to talk to. The Herdier seemed to have settled into gruff contentment. Sphinx seemed even angrier now than when it had seemed like there would be a fight.
Tim ignored the mons though. "The hospital is for people that need it. And favours are for people that deserve them. It is the height of rudeness for me to delay your dinner and your bed, and to disrupt your night. I was overstaying my welcome the moment I fell in behind you." He frowned unhappily. "That first time, too, I was overstaying my welcome the moment I opened my mouth to call to you in the rain." He started walking past Xan. "You were going somewhere. We'd might as well get moving. I don't imagine you want my help to carry your things." He didn't even stop to wait for an answer, he just kept walking.
"Ugh, for fuck's sake," Xan muttered, walking back over to their shopping bags and picking them up off the floor. A can of beans had fallen out, but that was sealed so it'd be fine - they just had it levitate along to the side of the bag. "Favours are for people who deserve them. Do I deserve a favour?"
"That's moot: I
owe you one." Tim stopped to look at Xan. "Why? Do you want me to do something?"
"Yeah, go to the fucking hospital," said the exasperated psychic. "And see a psychiatrist, too - I don't think healthy people almost-assault acquaintances because they're concerned that a bullet is capable of killing them."
"That is a very expensive favour, Xan," Tim said, turning away again to lead the way. The four mons followed along behind Xan. "We're heading the way of the hospital now, I believe, so I should be able to oblige. You know, I have a good reason for thinking so little of bullets. In the mines, not long ago, myself and some others had perhaps a dozen or more guns discharged over and over again at us. As you have no doubt realized, the experience has left quite the impression on me."
"No shit- you found lunatics in the mines, too?" The psychic grimaced - that was a worrying prospect. "Ones I saw didn't draw weaponry, but then only the lead lunatic was doing much of anything. You said yourself and others? Did they make it out all right?"
"Aeliana took a blow to the head, but she seemed alright when I left them. Henj blocked the bullets, and I carried Aeliana out when she collapsed. Had I not been there, those three may well have been killed. Gone from the world, just like that. What a terrifying thought," Tim muttered, shaking his head. He straightened up again, hardening his voice. "But they didn't seem to care! Simon may well have gone right back in given the chance! They don't have any fear in them, and next time I will most likely not be there: I have to know they have back-up plans, or failing that I have to know they're scared enough to be more cautious. That goes for all of you," Tim added, glancing over his shoulder. "I chose you to start with because I hold you so highly, but I suppose my conviction wasn't strong enough."
"Your conviction wasn't-?" Xan shook their head and raised their arms a little. "Are you-? Look… I was in the mines too, there were also idiots near me who felt like it was a fantastic idea to poke the hornet's nest. I'll level with you: I don't think that Pokémon Training is a profession that lends itself well to traditionally reasonable individuals. Hell, I'm only here out of career desperation and because my foremost research partner is a one-way instant ticket to medical attention. They
could probably do with a reality check! The solution is
not assault. Or fake assault. You can't just- okay, I suggest you go to the police if you haven't already. I reported the lunatics already but my report didn't include any guns, so that'll probably be more serious. It's with them now so they'll probably do something about it, especially with how brazen those idiots were. Worst comes to worst, tell the League too and they'll probably pressure the police more."
"And none of that would make any of the others any more careful of their necks. Besides, those gunmen wouldn't have
been so brazen if the police were worth reporting to anyway. I'm sure you've heard tell of just how many unsolved disappearances have been going around lately? There's some nasty stuff going on, and everyone needs to be ready to defend themselves when the police don't show up. And I haven't talked to a policeman since—" Tim cut himself off and faced forward again abruptly. "I haven't talked to a policeman for a very long time," he finished simply.
"Yeah, they don't seem great - that's why I suggested the League. But then, it's weird… the Champion was just hanging around in the mines, for some reason…" The psychic put a hand to where their forehead would be through their helmet. "Ugh, fuck, this is fishy as hell. I don't want to have to talk to the League any more than I already do."
"You're damn right it's fishy, Xan," Tim agreed enthusiastically. "Champions and Leaders playing cop on the side when the police are nowhere in sight? Something sour is going on here, and it's none of our business. Poke around in there and get a bullet for the trouble. You seem to recognize as much—I supposed you would, but I wanted to be certain. But the others might be too big for their britches. This isn't some childish fantasy tossed around by enthusiasts on the web: play hero and get shot." Tim rubbed his chin. Slowly, over the conversation, more lights had bled into the streets and the occasional other person could even be seen shuffling along in the night.
"But people survive bullet wounds, sometimes," Tim continued. "So I hold guns lesser to some other killing forces out there, Xan."
"Overwhelming Pokémon, as I said before," the psychic murmured. "Though if there's another kind I'd be happy to live in constant fear of that, too."
"There are many things, Xan. But one thing that will always stick out to me as a truly fatal killing force is gravity. The mightiest of creatures break when the Earth catches them on the way down. There is no thought or intent to it. No reason. You miss your step. And you're gone forever, Xan. Just like that."
"Heights are dangerous, sure," Xan shrugged. "Easy enough to strategise around, so long as you're aware enough. Even then I've something of an experience in rectifying missed steps. At the very least, I can consistently fall on the safer side of a drop."
The hospital came visible now, its lights lifting the darkness of the night. "I said I'd ask you a question, Xan," Tim said as he stopped, facing the hospital. "Imagine for a moment you are in a perilous situation. Everything is going to plan. But then, suddenly, an unforeseen variable comes in. Or a slim miscalculation results in the plan falling through. Or you slip at just the worst moment you possibly could. It's all over. It's the end. You're going to die." Tim turned to face Xan. "What is the last thing that goes through your head? Shock and dismay at being undone? Worry for those you leave behind? Hope you'll survive and everything will be okay?"
"What a rubbish question," Xan scoffed. They proceeded to answer anyway. "Having never actually experienced that, I'd be tempted to say all of those things. But who's to really say? Ideally I'd take the last one and change 'hope' to 'fight'. Precognition research has thrown probability my way a good deal. Don't have to be able to see the future to look for the best possible outcome, and you don't have to be a genius to know that there's almost an infinite number of ways any situation can go. Either way, ideally the worse a situation gets, the more precognitive ability starts helping us out. Fingers crossed, at least - suppose that's where the hope comes in. Now," they laughed through their nose. "I didn't want to answer that question all that much so I'll count that as you owing me another favour if you don't mind. How do you feel about the idea of contributing to science as an alternative to assaulting your peers whenever they have the audacity to go out shopping at night?"
Tim rubbed his chin thoughtfully and didn't immediately respond. "Thank you for your answer," he said finally. Then, "I don't suppose I'd be of much use to 'science.' You said yourself I have a … how did you put it? A 'sub-par understanding of the capabilities of psychic power.' I take it that's the science you're referring to, from the context of what you've been saying, and what you said to Clovis." Tim shrugged. "Best I can do is tell when something is a normal Move or Ability: that's how I knew you were the one that stopped that ball at the Gym, as Kass was very unlikely to have done such a thing at that range and with such precision with a mere Move. But I wouldn't think that would be very helpful to you." Tim rubbed his neck awkwardly. "I'm pretty sure a PokéDex would be able to do that much."
"It isn't your level of understanding that's the issue, it's
thinking that your understanding is better than it is," Xan clarified, beginning to slow down before they got too close to the hospital. "If you come across a Pokémon with psychic ability or start miraculously developing yourself, go in with an open mind and record the learning process for me. That's all there is to it, it's nothing crazy but I'd find it helpful. And for the record, if you
do come across a being that can actually hold creatures in place, it's probably a good time to flee or start begging. Full manipulation implies a drastic disparity in power - if something can pick you up and puppeteer you, it can probably also just decide to turn you into soup." They paused to let out a sigh. "But that's just getting into the greater issue behind the public perception of psychic power. Odd expectations of the insane, and yet a complete undervaluation of how even the tiniest of power can completely change the way you interact with the world."
Tim shrugged. "I suppose it's to be expected I have so little understanding of it. I imagine it would be like trying to think about how it might be to be a Falinks—a creature that spends its whole life from start to finish with more than one body. It's just outside of my experience, and so is your psychic power." He crossed his arms in thought. "I suppose I would be churlish to just say 'no,' though. I'll keep an eye out for anything unusual and pass you a note if I spot anything, Xan. But don't hold your breath: if these last few months haven't served to awaken some latent power in me yet, there probably isn't any power there. I'll mind my mons anyway though, for what that's worth."
There was a clanging sound from the group's left. Jerry, engrossed in conversation with Pelj, had waddled head-first into a lamppost.
"You all right there, Jerry?" Called Xan. Jerry gave a pained but reassuring quack. "Mm, good, I'd hate to have another reason to head in there - in fact I'd rather not go in there at all. We should stop here." The psychic turned to Tim and asked, "Don't suppose you could find Kass on your way in and tell them we're out here? They'll be the Kadabra with the shopping bag- actually, before you leave… I feel like we should set a few things straight because I'm worried. Less for you necessarily and more for your Pokémon. And the general public."
Tim took a few steps towards the side of the street rather than towards the hospital. He seemed to ignore all but the last part of Xan's words, and didn't seem to notice Jerry's antics. "Worried? You hardly seem the sort," he said dryly. "What do you mean?"
"Acceptance of risk isn't absence of worry- okay, look-" Xan shook their head, coming to a complete stop. "You've expressed concern for the safety of the other challengers and over where their Pokémon would be if they fucked up - measure up to your own standards; don't leap into fistfights with fucking psychics, don't assault people with Pokémon protecting them, don't- you can- you can just have a genuine conversation with people. They're not wilds, they're not brain dead - just about - they can think for themselves to some degree. Talk to their Pokémon if you don't like talking to them. The second I get wind of
anything resembling this shit I'm going to the police. Which- yeah I know, they aren't great, but this isn't a lawless wasteland. It's not like I haven't done all the detective work for them, they're not comatose, they should be able to manage."
"Oh my," Tim said, scratching his chin. "After you even agreed the police can often perform under expectations, you'd distract them with reports of someone you
know is of no serious threat to people? It's not as if I were going to maim them."
"
Do I know that? You seem reasonable enough sometimes but I've barely met you fucking twice."
Tim put his hand down and regarded Xan with a rather unnerving poker face. "You seem to know enough to make wild claims as to how easy it would be for someone like me to have a 'genuine conversation' with someone like Ruben Sancho." Tim cocked his head to the side, as if fixing Xan with one eye through his shades. "I'm sure that's why you talk to the others so often too. Because it's so
easy."
"I didn't say it'd be
easy, it's just easier than fucking
assaulting them. Is that crazy? I don't think that's crazy - I don't talk to the others because I don't
need to. I don't have any
pressing concerns driving me to criminal thoughts." The psychic looked around to try to gauge the reactions of Tim's Pokémon, but as usual came up short. For as much as she was paying attention, Pelj might well have just been deaf to human speech at the moment. She was bothering Herdier now.
"Easier? Perhaps for you, Xan, but I'm sure I don't have to outline how different we are from one another. You have your psychic powers and your research and, no doubt, any number of other things I don't. But, barren as I am, I do have some things
you don't, and I will try to use them as I am able." Tim stretched his arm out and in, limbering it up passively. "And I'd watch how much you throw around 'criminal thoughts,' as if I were aiming to rob people, or break their belongings. It's just a bit of an extra-rough battle. Some friendly sparring. And I defy you to ever prove otherwise."
"You def-? If they don't consent, you just described textbook assault. And if the victim is still alive it's
really not difficult to prove. If they're not it's just murder which is worse - I don't know what leg you're trying to stand on, here?" Xan glanced at the Herdier. "We are all Gym Challengers, we're literally peers. You have a solid in to speak with these people - just- just go see the doctor, please. Uh- sorry, I don't know your name-" The psychic looked past Tim for a moment. "Could you find Kass if they're in there and tell them we're outside?"
Herdier barked once - Xan guessed that meant yes - and bid gracious farewell to all present before trotting off to the hospital.
Tim silently watched the dog go as Pelj chattered her farewells and immediately moved on to bothering Sphinx, who had tiny hints of embers coming out of her mouth. "Please," Tim said sardonically, wagging a finger at Xan, "don't insult me with your subpar understanding of the political undercurrents of the Gym Challenge. Thanks." He smiled a little meanly before continuing. "I'm rather certain you have far better things to do than
slander a competitor in the Gym Challenge with such
outrageous ideas. And dealing with the whirlwind of drama that kicks off afterward: seems like it wouldn't be worth your time, Xan. Even though I'm sure someone who wears a visor and goes by some made-up moniker is of course going to be a top-tier informant to the police." Tim frowned and crossed his arms. "You've been talking to me like I'm trash. I expect that, because I am. But even trash gets tired of being spoken down to. You said you haven't eaten dinner, and it is growing late. I've kept you long enough." He snapped his fingers. Pelj cut herself off abashedly mid-jabber and wheeled over to stand beside Tim's feet at attention. "Any last parting shots you want to throw at me, Xan?"
The psychic rolled their shoulders and put their hands in their pockets, shopping bags on either side hanging from their wrists. For a moment they genuinely considered Tim's question. With the subject of safety on the mind, they briefly wondered if they should ask if he had seen a Smoke Ball for sale anywhere. They thought about pressing the subject and telling Tim that he was deflecting, and remembered the phone recording in their hoodie's inside pocket. But then, they thought about how long of a day it had been, and how hungry they and their research partners were. They figured it was long past the time when this should become not their problem. In the end, they shrugged.
"I tried," they said simply. They turned briefly to the Rolycoly, "We haven't been introduced but it was nice almost meeting you, I guess."
The Rolycoly just stared dumbly at Xan without responding. Tim straightened up. "If I find anything worth reporting, I'll send you a note so you don't have to stoop to my level to speak with me again," he said heavily.
"What the fuck…?" Xan muttered under their breath.
"Give Kass Henj's congratulations on the Evolution. Henj was hoping to give them those well-wishes in person, but alas. Such as it is." Tim lifted a hand and made a stirring motion in the air with it. Pelj saw it and screeched her wheel, zipping tight circles around Tim's feet as she kicked up a cloud of black smoke that swallowed her and Tim. Sphinx, spooked by the smokescreen, could stand it no longer and fired a bolt of flame into the smoke, although it didn't sound like it hit anything. "May you survive the trials that await us," Tim said through the smoke. "And may we never meet again."
There was the sound of heavy, fast footfalls for a moment and then the smoke cleared. Tim and his Rolycoly were gone, with no visible evidence they had ever been there. Except the tire marks, but those would fade. And the smell was already getting fainter, too.
"That's the wrong way to the hospital!" The psychic called out, increasingly half-hearted toward the end. "Bastard thinks they're Zubatman or something- Sphinx, I get it, but that's dangerous. Basically criminal. Don't fucking do that. Ever."
The Vulpix growled, halfheartedly settling down.
"I mean it, I'm not just telling you off for the sake of it, or something. That comes back on me if you hit someone. I give you
this once. Another time, ever, you're out. Immediately. If you're worried a fight's breaking out then staying evasive or using Spite or Disable is probably a better option. In that it won't provoke further conflict, and a hefty fine for me if your instinct's off-"
Xan was cut off as the hospital doors swung open - a barrage of thoughts and concepts striking out from that direction like relentless waves. Life, relief, triumph, safety, relief again, joy, heroism, greetings, there was a bit of hunger in there for a second, relief for the third time, life again and a huge greeting to end the rush of telepathy. Kass the Kadabra rushed up, beaming at their research partners. On one side they held aloft the final piece of the shopping bag set in a psychic grip, and on the other was a little pouch of money. Around their neck on a string was a little shell.
One of Jerry's hands waved hello while the other rubbed his head where he'd bumped it.
"If you're concerned I can always just recall you, too," Xan continued. Could Vulpixes pout? Sphinx was providing the biggest amount of evidence the psychic had seen for the answer being yes. Kass seemed curious as to what was going on, pausing in their efforts to take everyone's limbs for a group Teleport.
"Let's talk about this over dinner."
When Jerry smacked into the lamppost, his knowledge of Scratch fell out! Oh no!
The Psyduck resolves to be more protective of his head next time.
Jerry learned Zen Headbutt! That ought to make those pesky lampposts think twice.
Haleigh Windsor
