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Old May 6th, 2008 (11:20 AM).
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Avey Avey is offline
The Mad Hatter
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 4,424
And the credit goes to Jax Malcolm for the immense task of beta-ing this for me long ago.

Chapter Two – Lack of Evidence

Muir Crandall had always been a distrustful person, so when a certain blue-haired boy that had been missing and presumed dead for six months appeared at her front door, she wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating or if it was some horrible hoax created by her sick, twisted little friends. She rubbed her eyes and examined the boy she had thought to be deceased. Noah Fowl was more or less the same as he always was. His turquoise hair fell past his forehead, and his grey eyes still had the glint Muir remembered so clearly. He was more muscular than he had been, Muir blushed to herself when she realised she had paid attention to that. Under closer inspection, however, the girl saw a few cuts on the parts of his arms that weren’t hidden by a white designer polo-shirt. She caught a glimpse of a jagged red mark running across his cheek, but it was faint. That made Muir think that he had received it a while ago.

In the thirty seconds it took Muir to note what changes Noah had made in the last six months, Noah had done the same. Her hair was blonde instead of the black he remembered, and there were streaks of hot pink running through the tips of her shoulder-length hair. Her bright blue eyes were as intriguing and attractive as ever, and her skin was still that same ivory colour he remembered. Noah frowned to himself as he realised he was now half a head taller than her, as he had always recalled Muir as someone who was bigger than himself. Noah laughed to himself silently as he figured that he must have had a growth spurt without realising it.

Noah scratched his head and caught her eye after about a minute of silence. “So,” he said, stretching his hand so that he could lean against the wall. “Am I going to stand here all day, or are you going to allow me to enter the premises yet?”

Muir raised her eyebrows and decided to outsmart him. “Actually, Noah, the moment you walked past my gate, you walked onto my premises, and seeing as I didn’t give you permission to do such a thing, you’re trespassing.”

“That would be true if it was you who rightfully held the deed to your house, of course,” Noah grinned. “But, you know, you don’t. It’s your parents that do, and, therefore, you can’t boss me around.” He didn’t bother letting her reply and cut her off as soon as she opened her mouth. “Are you going to let me in, or have I wasted my time coming here?” He broke eye contact with her and looked at his watch. “‘Cause, you know, it is three o’ clock already, and everybody is coming at ten past…”

Muir’s eyes narrowed, “And who is everybody, may I ask?”

“Why, only Quintinus, Ceceily, Professor Oak, you and I.” Noah mumbled as he took out a Pokè Ball and started throwing it from hand to hand. “It’s important,” he added, catching her angry stare. “Oak wants us to do something for him. No, I don’t know what, so don’t bother asking.” He raised his arms in a defensive position. “So, in conclusion, are you going to let me into your household, or will I have to knock you out and tie you up in order to enter your parents’ premises?”

“Are you going to tell me where you’ve been for the past six months?” Muir grinned, enjoying the fact that she was frustrating Noah. “I mean, I completely forgot that you had disappeared, and we all want to know where you were and what you were up to. Well, I do anyways.”

“If you let me in, I’ll tell you,” Noah replied.

Muir nodded more to herself than to Noah and opened the door wide enough to let Noah pass. He walked briskly past her just in case she decided to change her mind at the last second, which Muir was prone to do, from what he remembered.

“Into the living room there.”

She pointed at a small room that contained a sleek, brown table and two cream-coloured sofas. She allowed Noah to lead the way, and when they got to the room she gestured for him to sit down.

When he sat down, she threw herself onto his lap and said, “So, what exactly were you doing for the past six months?”

The boy frowned as he tried to figure out how he could realistically lie to her. As he opened his mouth to utter some syllables, the doorbell rang throughout the house.

“Doorbell,” he said quickly.

The blonde-haired girl jumped off him and walked to the light red door. She turned the latch and greeted the three people on the doorstep.

“Ceceily, Quint, Professor, glad you could all make it!” She smiled and tried to hide the fact that she was grinding her teeth in annoyance. “Come on in!” She raised a hand and flicked it in the direction of the sitting room.

Before her guests could step across the threshold, she swiftly turned and led the way into the sitting room, where she sat down beside Noah. Elm walked into the room but didn’t sit down. Instead, he walked over to the corner and rummaged through his white shirt’s pockets.

A brunette walked in after the brown-haired man and squealed. “Noah!” Before she bounded up to the boy and hugged him. After a few moments of this, Noah pushed her off of him, and she sat down opposite Muir and himself, while Quintinus entered the room. He acknowledged Noah with a nod and sat down beside Ceceily. It was quite apparent that they all wanted to talk to each other, but they didn’t out of respect for the fact that Professor Elm was in the room and wanted to make a speech or something, Muir had guessed.

Elm took his hands out of his pockets and spoke in his unique, squeaky voice. “Well, I would just like to thank you all for coming here. This was rather short notice, I’ll admit.”

Quint yawned. “In all fairness, Professor, waking me up at half past eight in the morning and not telling me the reason is worth a bit more than an apology.”

Elm ignored the comment and continued on. “Some of you may have heard that last week, on January sixth, Professor Oak of Pallet Town was reported missing. I have received word from a colleague of mine, Ivy, that Oak is being held against his will in the Orange Islands. I’ve lost all contact with Ivy, and I fear that she has been taken as well.”

“Wait.” Muir smiled, shaking her head. “You get information from some random person, Ivy, and you just believe her like that.”

“Yes.” Elm’s expression of seriousness on his face didn’t change. “Ivy would never say something like that unless she had strong evidence to back it up, which is why I didn’t ask her how she acquired this knowledge, and went straight on to call the Elite Four about the revelation.” He began to pace the room. “Ivy claimed that Oak was being held somewhere in the Orange Islands, and shortly afterwards she disappeared as well. I’m taking that as a hint; they’re probably both in the Orange Islands.” He stopped and looked at each child in turn. He closed his eyes. “The Elite Four are too busy right now to listen to a crazy Pokèmon professor who doesn’t have any evidence, so I am going to send you four there temporarily. Trust me, I don’t want you to go there, I don’t know who abducted Ivy and Oak, but they’re probably dangerous.”

“So, you want us to go to the Orange Islands because your friend told you, with little or no evidence to back the claim up, that Oak was being held hostage there?” Noah asked.

“Precisely,” Elm replied. “It might be nothing, and if it is nothing, then you guys get some fun in the sun for a week or two, however long it takes me to convince the Elite Four to send out some people in order to figure out whether this is a hoax or not. I just need you four to look for suspicious signs and report it back to me via your mobile phones. I could get you a hand-made walkie-talkie if you’d prefer that.”

Noah looked around at the faces that were his best friends six months ago. “I don’t know about them, but I’ll go.”

The others nodded and muttered their agreement. Elm clapped his hands together.

“Excellent!” He exclaimed. “Drop by my laboratory in a few hours, and I’ll give you your equipment.”

And, so saying, he walked out of the room and left the building.

Muir grabbed Noah’s arm as he tried to get off the couch so he could leave.

“Oh no,” she smiled. “You still have to tell us where you were for the last six months!”

'It's been a prevalent notion. Fallen sparks. Fragments of vessels broken at the Creation. And someday, somehow, before the end, a gathering back to home. A messenger from the Kingdom, arriving at the last moment. But I tell you there is no such message, no such home -- only the millions of last moments . . . nothing more. Our history is an aggregate of last moments.'
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