Misheard Whisper
[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
- 3,488
- Posts
- 15
- Years
- Age 29
- He/They
- Nimbasa Gym
- Seen Oct 3, 2022
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair.
- Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ozymandias
Merrily do I invoke those immortal words, first penned in 1818. Bang Head Here is back for another shot, and it's bigger and better than ever. Be warned - this fic does not take itself seriously, nor does it expect anybody else to. This began as a simple desire to do what most everybody else was doing - rewriting a Pokemon game in fic form. Inspired in part by bobandbill's Retelling, BHH takes everything that is bizarre and illogical in Pokemon Emerald, pins it to the wall and paints big red circles around it while inviting you to join in the mockery.
So enter, enter if you dare, and prepare yourself for the most epic journey since Homer's Odyssey.
Warnings:
None, really. Rated M to be on the safe side for some mild language and perhaps themes.
Also, chapters are in excess of 4,000 words each. Not much by some people's standards, but too much for others to be bothered reading. Consider yourself warned.
Chapter List:
Chapter One - this post
Chapter Two - busily editing and touching up, scheduled to post on Thursday 16th, after exams are over.
Meet the cast:
Wally:
It's short for Walter, not Waldo! Wally is a kid from Petalburg City with a bad case of asthma. He really just wants everyone to get along, which is precisely why Topaz can't stand him.
- Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ozymandias
Merrily do I invoke those immortal words, first penned in 1818. Bang Head Here is back for another shot, and it's bigger and better than ever. Be warned - this fic does not take itself seriously, nor does it expect anybody else to. This began as a simple desire to do what most everybody else was doing - rewriting a Pokemon game in fic form. Inspired in part by bobandbill's Retelling, BHH takes everything that is bizarre and illogical in Pokemon Emerald, pins it to the wall and paints big red circles around it while inviting you to join in the mockery.
So enter, enter if you dare, and prepare yourself for the most epic journey since Homer's Odyssey.
Warnings:
None, really. Rated M to be on the safe side for some mild language and perhaps themes.
Also, chapters are in excess of 4,000 words each. Not much by some people's standards, but too much for others to be bothered reading. Consider yourself warned.
Chapter List:
Chapter One - this post
Chapter Two - busily editing and touching up, scheduled to post on Thursday 16th, after exams are over.
Meet the cast:
Topaz:
Impulsive and snarky, Topaz always knows the wrong thing to say at the right time (or vice versa). She doesn't give a damn what the rest of the world thinks of her, and delights in telling the rest of the world what she thinks of it.
Brendan Birch:
A little insensitive, he somehow manages to insult people without realising he's doing it. His aloof, superior attitude doesn't win him many friends, but he's really quite a neat guy. He also seems to have memory trouble.
Xavier (a.k.a. Xavier):
A mysteriously precocious child. He seems to want to help out, but surely there's more going on behind those devilishly sharp eyes of his than simple altruism? Naww, don't be silly. He's just a little kid!
Wally:
Everything was darkness. The world was soaked in black, and as a result, Topaz couldn't see a darned thing. This made her feel a little insecure, because Topaz liked to be able to see. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd been terrified of dark places, and this was, most definitely, a very, very dark place.
But slowly, out of the blackness, the slightly grainy image of a man swam into focus. Topaz squinted at him curiously. Standing in a pool of yellow light projected from some invisible source, he was a strange-looking fellow. He was short, with stubby legs and an unruly mop of brown hair framing a rather round face that was wearing a somewhat bland smile. He was wearing a white coat, which immediately sparked connections in Topaz's brain. Scientist, she thought, without any shadow of a doubt, which was strange, because, well, there was no good evidence that this man was a scientist of any kind.
"Hey there, kiddo! How are you doing?" he asked out of the blue. Or . . . out of the black. Whichever. He sounded genuinely pleased to see her, which was odd, seeing as she didn't have a clue as to who he was. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting."
"Uh, no . . ." she mumbled uncertainly. "I . . . haven't been here long," she finished lamely, hoping this strange man would provide her with some clues as to where she was, but slightly afraid to ask him outright.
"My name is Birch," he said affably, "but everyone calls me the Pokémon Professor." Ah, so he is a scientist after all! Topaz thought triumphantly to herself. Well, at least she'd got that bit right. Her problem-solving skills hadn't been dulled by this strange, dark world, it seemed.
"This is what we call a Pokémon," he said, pulling a familiar red and white sphere from his pocket and thumbing the release switch. With a pop, a small blue creature with a yellow beak and a green lily-pad on its head appeared, croaking happily.
"Uh, I know that," Topaz said. "My dad's the Petalburg Gym Leader, actually, so I, um . . . I know a couple of things about Pokémon."
"Oh," said Birch, looking disappointed. "Oh. Does that mean . . . does that mean I don't need to tell you what Pokémon are?"
"Um . . . yes, it does," said Topaz, starting to feel a little weirded out by this odd scientist. She considered simply leaving, but where would she go? The best option, she decided reluctantly, was to simply stay near this man and his puddle of light.
"Well, anyway, I've been undertaking research on Pokémon," Birch continued. "Even though we know so much about them, there are still so many mysteries surrounding them!" His eyes glittered with fervour as he said this, and he clenched his fists in excitement. "Think of all the untold tales, the secrets that Pokémon hold, just waiting to be discovered!"
"If you . . . say so," Topaz said sceptically. He had a point, though. It was an interesting idea, at least. If she actually stopped to think about it, what did she really know about Pokémon? Not much, she admitted to herself. Maybe this wacko was onto something.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Birch exclaimed suddenly. "I forgot to ask you to introduce yourself! Are you a boy, or are you a girl?" Now, if somebody on the street had asked her this question, Topaz would most likely have pulled out the pepper spray and called the police, but somehow it seemed logical in this situation, albeit still slighly worrying. Looking down at her body, she realised that Birch's spotlight didn't extend to her. She could barely see her own outline, and supposed that Birch would be able to see even less.
"I'm a girl," she informed him, feeling around in her pocket for the container of pepper spray . . . just in case.
"Ah, I see, I see! And what's your name?" he pressed.
"It's . . . Topaz," she said. First name would have to do for now.
"Topaz, was it?" he enquired.
"Yes, Topaz," she replied irritably. She wasn't sure how he could have misheard her. He was only a few metres away, and there was no noise other than their voices, after all.
"Ah, okay! You must be the Topaz who's moving to my hometown of Littleroot! I get it now!"
"Huh? You live in Littleroot?" Topaz asked, taken aback. She was indeed moving to a town named Littleroot, she remembered. She wasn't sure how this key piece of information had escaped her recall, but then again, maybe it just hadn't been relevant until now. For that matter, though, shouldn't I be in the moving truck right about now?
"Yes, yes, I do!" Birch said. "Now, are you ready?"
"Ready for . . . what?" Topaz asked suspiciously. Where the hell did I leave that pepper spray?
"Your very own adventure is about to unfold! Take courage, and leap into the world of Pokémon where dreams, adventure and friendships await!" As the spotlight on Birch began fading slowly away, all she could think was: What world have I been living in for the last ten years of my life, then? Is this some kind of joke?
Out of what was now total darkness, Birch's voice echoed: "Well, I'll be expecting you later. Be sure to drop by my Pokémon Lab and say hi!" Yeah, right, Topaz thought. If this isn't some screwed-up hallucination and this weirdo really does live in Littleroot, I'm staying well away from him!
Topaz felt herself being squeezed all of a sudden, an unpleasant sensation akin to being put through a mangle, she imagined. Even though she had never been put through a mangle – thank Mew for that – she supposed it must feel something like this.
She felt herself losing consciousness, but the scariest thing was that there was no fade-to-black like in the books she'd read. Just . . . black-to-black.
* * *
What seemed like hours later, Topaz became vaguely aware of a distant rumbling.
"Uhn?" she mumbled drowsily, trying unsuccessfully to open her eyes. Her cheek was pressed against a hard surface, and the rumbling seemed a lot closer now. It was awfully cold, and her whole body was bouncing and vibrating.
Making a concerted effort, Topaz cracked her eyes open to observe her surroundings. It was still quite dark, but at least there was light, not like . . .
With a start, Topaz sat bolt upright, realisation flooding over her. It had been a dream. The slightly creepy guy called Birch hadn't really existed. She was riding in the back of the moving truck, and had fallen asleep. Glancing around, Topaz took in the precariously stacked cardboard boxes all around her, breathing a sigh of relief for the fact that none of them had fallen on her. Surely this was against health and safety regulations, never mind the law. She hadn't even been wearing a seatbelt – not that she particularly cared.
The truck bounced slightly as it went over a pothole in the road, and the still-drowsy Topaz somehow managed to fall over, cracking her head on the floor. Uttering some choice swear words that would have made her mother faint, Topaz struggled back into a sitting position, holding a hand to her head.
"Ugh," she moaned. If she hadn't been so stubborn, she could have waited a few hours for the truck to get back to Petalburg for its second trip. Then she might have been able to sit up front. As if to mock her for being foolish enough to ride in the back of a moving truck, it was at that precise moment that the driver decided to slam on the brakes. Violently.
Picking herself up for the second time in as many minutes, Topaz was about ready to scream with frustration when she realised that the engine had stopped and the truck was no longer moving. Thank Mew for that, she thought with relief as the back doors of the truck swung open, letting fresh air and golden light flood the dark cavity. Yawning cavernously, Topaz jumped down from the back of the truck, ignoring the helpful Vigoroth who was trying to lift her down.
"I can do it myself," she snapped. It was a bit late to be offering courtesy now, after making her ride the whole way here in the back of a truck. What sort of moving company even allowed that, let alone actively practiced it? "Screw you. Go shift some boxes," she snapped rudely in response to the Pokémon's sorrowful bleating.
Moving a few steps away from the truck, Topaz took in the view. She had to admit, it was very pleasant. Though the entire area was surrounded by close-knit woods, the town itself was anything but overgrown. Short, lush grass seemed to be the order of the day, with freshly-scented orange and yellow flowers dotted around. The buildings were quaint little stone affairs, with terracotta tiled roofs, and each had its own little garden. The boxy, modern moving truck seemed quite out of place in what was obviously –
"Such a backwards place!" Topaz sulked. Sure, it was pretty, and the scent of a million different flowers was in the air, but it really didn't look like there was much to do. Surely this was the most boring settlement ever devised by humankind, orchestrated purely to annoy the hell out of her?
"We're here, honey!" sang Topaz's mum from behind her, sounding a lot happier than Topaz felt. "It must be tiring riding with our things in the moving truck," she said anxiously, misinterpreting Topaz's yawn of utter boredom – which seemed to have kicked in automatically, she noticed with detached distaste – for one born of fatigue.
"Not really," Topaz said drily. "I slept for a little bit on the way." And had a dream about a weird scientist who said he lived here, she added silently, frowning slightly.
"Oh, that's nice, dear. Well, this is Littleroot Town!" she proclaimed cheerfully.
"That's reassuring," Topaz muttered under her breath. At least the driver had been competent enough to get them to the right place.
"How do you like it, love? This is our new home. It has a quaint feel –"
"– Damn right it does –"
"– but it seems like a nice place to live, don't you think?" she finished hopefully, her eyes pleading silently with her daughter to agree with her for once. Topaz snorted derisively.
"Like hell it does," she sulked.
"Ah, um . . . Well, at least you get your own room, Topaz!" her mum said awkwardly, trying to salvage the conversation.
What, like I didn't have my own room back home? Topaz wondered, rolling her eyes. Maybe this place was still in the eighteenth century, she reasoned. She'd heard that having a bedroom to oneself was unheard of back then.
"Let's go inside and have a look!" trilled her mother suddenly, breaking Topaz's chain of thought. She'd have to think about that later. Reluctantly, she followed the other through the door.
"See, Topaz? Isn't it nice in here, too?"
Inside was, at the very least, a slight improvement on outside. The entirety of the ground floor, as far as she could see, was an open-plan kitchen/dining/living room combo. There didn't appear to be a couch or anything as of yet, but there were four passably comfortable-looking chairs surrounding the square table that sat on the pink rug in the middle of the floor. Topaz had always hated that rug. It smelled of mothballs, and she couldn't believe they hadn't gotten rid of it when they moved. The TV was positioned so that everybody sitting around the table could see it without too much difficulty, and a Vigoroth techie was busy plugging in wires underneath it.
"The mover's Pokémon do all the work of moving us in and cleaning up after," Topaz's mum explained happily. "It's so convenient, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is," Topaz admitted. If it wasn't for the Vigoroth strutting around, she realised, she would have most likely been the one lifting all the boxes. Her mother was hardly one for heavy lifting of any kind, and her dad . . . well, Norman was still at the Gym in Petalburg, of course. He wouldn't be moving out into the sticks with them until he could find a new Gym Leader.
"Anyway, love, your room is upstairs. Go check it out, dear. Dad bought you a new clock to mark our move here. Don't forget to set it!" Oh, whoopee, a new clock, Topaz thought ruefully as she headed for the stairs. Just what I always wanted. Thanks, Dad.
As she emerged from the ridiculously dark stairwell, dodging yet another Vigoroth barrelling down them at a hundred miles an hour – they certainly were vigorous – Topaz let out a small gasp of surprise. Her room was huge! It was almost as big as the entire downstairs section of the house, albeit just as tastelessly decorated, she noted with disapproval. Most of the floor was taken up by a pink rug that matched the one downstairs.
"Would it have killed you to get me a green one, Mum?" she muttered. At least she could always get rid of it later. Her bed, familiar and welcoming, was set up on the other side of the room, and she flumped down on it with a sigh of relief as she scanned the rest of the area. There was certainly plenty of floor space. In one corner of the room, her PC was already set up on a desk, with her notebook sitting next to it. Getting up, she flipped through it idly. There wasn't much there, past a few notes she'd written to herself regarding the video game she'd been playing the week before.
Next to the desk was the familiar TV, with her GameCube already set up next to it. She checked that her Game Boy Advance was still connected as a controller and glanced around the walls. Over her desk was the map of the Hoenn region that her dad had given her for her eighth birthday. She noticed that somebody had tacked a chibified version of her face – complete with green bandana – to the spot on the map that read 'Littleroot Town'. It had been her mother's doing, no doubt. Some kind of weird 'Home Sweet Home' thing, she assumed. Sighing, she glanced across at the clock on the wall. It was a plain thing, round and pink, made of cheap-looking plastic. The hands were both pointing rigidly at the 12, unmoving.
"Meh, I'll set it later," she said dismissively, and headed downstairs, only to be met by her mother at the bottom of the stairs.
"Topaz, did you set the clock in your room, honey?"
"Well, no, but -"
"Go set it, then, love," her mother prodded insistently.
"I'll do it later, but I wanted to -"
"Go do it now, love. I can talk to you all you like once you've done that."
"But -"
"Now, honey."
"Okay, okay, jeez! What's got your knickers in a knot?" Topaz stormed bad-temperedly upstairs again. Still sulking and muttering under her breath, she took the clock off the wall and fiddled with the knobs on the back, checking against her wristwatch to make sure she had the right time. 8:44 am.
No sooner had she finished, her mother appeared at the top of the stairs, beaming.
"Topaz, how do you like you new room?" she asked.
"It's . . . OK," Topaz admitted, suddenly unwilling to admit how much she actually liked it. "You know I hate that rug, Mum! Why'd you have to put that in here?"
"That's a family heirloom, honey! It was in my room when I was a little girl, and in my mother's room before that!"
"No wonder it's so musty, then," Topaz muttered under her breath, making a mental note to toss the bloody thing out of a window the first chance she got. Even if she was forced to take it back, it would probably smell markedly better for a little fresh air.
"Good! Everything's put away neatly! They finished moving everything in downstairs, too. Pokémon movers are so convenient!"
"Yes, Mum, we've established that," Topaz said drily.
"Hmm?"
"You said the same thing five minutes ago," Topaz explained.
"Well, never mind. You should make sure that everything's all there on your desk, love. If anything's gotten lost in the move, we'll need to tell them about it now."
"Yeah, I already looked," she said. "It's all there – not that there was much in the first place." It was true, she realised as she said it. She didn't really have much junk to set up around her room. Most of her time was spent outside, but judging by the look of this place, there wouldn't be much to do inside or out. Sighing, she followed her mother down the stairs. Perhaps she should invest in a Wii, she considered.
"Oh, Topaz, Topaz, come quickly!" her mother called from over in front of the TV. Topaz blinked. How had she managed to get over there so fast? Sighing for what seemed like the millionth time that morning, she reluctantly moved to stand by the TV. "Look! It's Petalburg Gym! Maybe Dad will be on!" Topaz focused her attention on the screen.
"We brought you this report from in front of Petalburg Gym," the reporter said, bowing slightly towards the camera as the screen cut to a commercial for garden gnomes.
"Oh, it's over," her mum said disappointedly. "I think Dad was on, but we missed him. Too bad. Oh, yes, that reminds me! One of Dad's friends lives in town!"
"Oh, really? Who's that?" Topaz asked curiously. The idea that Dad knew someone from this backwater, middle-of-nowhere place was slightly far-fetched, but . . .
"Professor Birch is his name."
Topaz closed her eyes and bit her lip, exhaling sharply through her nose . Oh, Mew, no! Topaz thought desperately. You did not just say that. You did not just tell me that.
"He lives right next door, love, so you should go over and introduce yourself."
Had the dream, then, been more than just a dream? If Professor Birch was actually real, then did that mean . . . She didn't really want to finish that thought. All she knew was that she really didn't want to talk to this Birch person. She had been really creeped out by the strange scientist that had appeared in her dark dream world, and she had hardly expected his claims to have any basis in real life.
No, calm down, she told herself. It was just a dream. If he's a friend of Dad's, he can't be all that weird in real life. You can't trust dreams. Shivering slightly, she gritted her teeth and decided that she would go and talk to the professor, just to make sure. Patting her pocket to make sure the canister of pepper spray was still there, she pushed the door open and headed for the professor's house.
The house next door was almost identical to her own – from the outside, at least – but not quite. It took her a moment to work out the difference, but she soon realised that it was essentially a mirror image. The door was at the opposite end of the house, and the windows were arranged back to front. A little nervously, she went to knock on the door. It swung open at her touch, and she stepped back involuntarily. When nobody answered, she poked her head in cautiously.
"Hello?" she ventured.
"Oh, hello!" Topaz swung her head around so fast that she almost cricked her neck. A beaming woman with brown hair pulled back into a bun came bustling over from the kitchen table, which, Topaz noted with some consternation, was in the exact same position as her own, just reversed. Actually, the entire interior was the exact opposite of the downstairs section of her house. It was as if she had just walked through a mirror into a reflection, rather than another building altogether. "Who might you be, sweetie?"
"I'm, uh, Topaz," she began, but didn't get any further than that.
"Oh, of course, you're our new neighbour! I'm Mrs Birch, but you can call me Mary. I'm delighted you've arrived!" Mary seemed to be a little too delighted about everything, Topaz reflected.
"It's, uh, nice to meet you," Topaz said, lying through her teeth. This woman was just a little bit too bubbly for her liking. "But I'm looking for the professor. Is he . . . around?" She glanced around, but there didn't seem to be anyone else in the room, other than a very small child tottering aimlessly about.
"Oh, no, sweetie, he's not here right now. But I have a son about the same age as you, and he's been looking forward to meeting you. He's upstairs right now, I think. Go on up and say howdy!"
"Uh, I'm not sure if I . . ."
"Oh, don't be silly, sweetie. Just go ahead, it's no trouble!" Mary flapped her hands around distractedly, ushering her towards the stairs. Topaz reluctantly allowed herself to be ushered. Maybe it would be good to make a friend anyway. It would certainly make life slightly less boring.
As she emerged from the stairwell, the first thing that Topaz noticed was that this room, too, was a reversal of her own. Maybe they used the same moving company when they moved in, and never bothered to change anything, she wondered. Either way, she made a mental note to rearrange the furniture at her house as soon as she possibly could. There was even a rug on the floor much like her own, except that this one was blue. The second thing she noticed was that she was very much alone in the room. What sort of mother doesn't know where her son is? she wondered.
"Eh, what's this?" Topaz's sharp eyes had picked out a small orb lying on the floor next to the bed. One half of it was red, and the other white, with a slim black band dividing the two, splitting into a small circle with a white button inside it. A Poké Ball. Did it belong to the Birch kid? Curious as to its contents, she bent down to pick it up.
"Hey, you!" said someone behind her. "Who are you?" She stood up and spun round guiltily.
"I'm, uh, Topaz," she said. "I just moved in next door." She sized up the person facing her. It was obviously the Birch kid – who else would be in the Birch kid's room, after all? Then again, she reminded herself, she was in the Birch kid's room, and she wasn't the Birch kid. The first thing she noticed about him was that his hair was a shocking white. It didn't look dyed; rather, it seemed to be natural, which was strange. He wore a green headband with a Poké Ball logo on it, an orange and grey jacket, matching pants and fingerless orange gloves.
"I didn't know that you were a girl," he said, looking a little disappointed. "Dad said that our new neighbour was a Gym Leader's kid, so I kinda assumed you'd be a guy."
"Well, excuse me, then! You can't just assume stuff, jerk! You know what? You can take your assumptions and shove them up your -"
"Ah, ah, ah!" he said quietly, infuriating her with his cool demeanour. "Be nice, now. Girls shouldn't talk like that. Anyway," he continued as if nothing had happened, "my name's Brendan." He held out his hand for her to shake. Topaz clenched her fists. She felt like punching this arrogant little sod right on the nose, but she had to content herself with simply ignoring the offered hand.
"Delighted," she forced out through gritted teeth.
"Hey, Topaz, do you have a Pokémon yet?" he asked suddenly.
"Huh? Um, well . . . no," she admitted.
"I didn't think so. You are a girl, after all," he drawled. Topaz glared at him.
"Look here, you, I didn't come here to get insulted by a stuck-up brat like you! If you carry on like that, I'm just gonna beat the crap out of you, capische? So just shut the hell up, okay?" she yelled. Brendan averted his eyes slightly and endured her tirade. When she'd finished, he spoke again.
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry. I'll take it back. Tell you what, how about I go catch you a Pokémon to apologise properly?" he offered. Topaz was caught off guard by the sudden show of generosity.
"Um, I . . . I'd . . ." she mumbled, not quite sure what to say. "That'd be . . . nice, I guess. I'd like that." Wait, what the hell am I saying? she berated herself inwardly. This guy's a total douchebag! Why should I bother with him? All the same, she was oddly touched.
"Aw, darn! I forgot!" he exclaimed, slapping his forehead. "I'm supposed to go help my dad study some wild Pokémon! Some other time, okay?" he said. Brendan dashed across to his desk and began tossing things haphazardly into a green backpack.
"Um, what?" Topaz said dumbly, but Brendan ignored her, only continuing to mutter randomly to nobody in particular.
"Pokémon fully restored . . . Items all packed, and . . ." he mumbled, rifling through a drawer.
"Hmph! I don't believe you!" Topaz spat. "The nerve!" Seeing that she was still being ignored, she turned on her heel and dashed down the stairs.
"What is his problem?" she asked out loud.
"Are you alright, sweetie?" asked Brendan's mum as she caught sight of Topaz heading for the door. "I thought I heard somebody yelling."
"No, it's OK," Topaz lied, forcing a smile.
"Well, that's good. If you can't find the professor, he might be at the lab," she offered. Topaz nodded.
"Thanks." She pushed the door open and left, fuming. That guy's got some nerve, she thought angrily. He gets all high and mighty and then acts as if he doesn't understand why I get pissed at him. What the hell is up with him? She silently resolved to see as little of Brendan Birch as she possibly could. She hoped the kid didn't take after his father.
"I guess I'd better try the lab, then," she sighed, not addressing anyone in particular. As if there was anyone in this backwater junk-town that would listen. Glancing around, Topaz decided to try the largest building in town – there weren't many to choose from, she noted with annoyance. Although it only had one storey, it had the added value of being somewhat modern. The walls were grey concrete instead of quaint red brick, the windows and doors looked heavy and industrial, and the roof was corrugated iron rather than tiles. A sign out the front proclaimed 'Prof. Birch's Pokémon Lab'. Good guess, she congratulated herself, tugging the door open.
"Oi, is there a Professor Birch in here?" she called, glancing around. There were shelves scattered haphazardly around the room, evidently with no concern for freedom of movement. Passage was further obscured by piles of books and various computer desks, arranged completely randomly around the place, or so it seemed. A forlorn-looking pot plant in once corner tried futilely to restore some sense of order to the interior. "What a mess . . ." Topaz muttered disapprovingly. There was a sudden scuffling behind one of the bookcases, followed by the ejection of a young, nerdy-looking man in a white coat, with big round glasses and slicked-back black hair. He looked as if he'd just fallen off a cliff, but Topaz was in no mood to help him up.
"Huh? Professor Birch?" the man burbled. "The Prof's away on fieldwork. That means, of course, that he's working in the field. Ergo, he isn't here."
"I see," Topaz said. "And what kind of fieldwork might that be?"
"Oh, of course. Let me explain. It is to study things in the natural environment, like fields and mountains, instead of a laboratory. The Prof isn't one for doing desk work. He's the type of person who would rather go outside and experience things rather than read about them here. He's so great like that! He's a role model and an inspiration to me!" he babbled. His eyes shone when he talked about 'the Prof', she noticed.
"Are you some kind of assistant?" she asked him.
"Yes, yes, that's me!" he exclaimed, extending an ink-stained hand. "I'm Shelley, Shelley Richards. I help the Prof with his research." Topaz shook his hand thoughtfully. Despite having what could only be described as a fanatical devotion to Professor Birch, Shelley was the most sensible person she'd met in this town so far, including her own mother.
"I'm Topaz," she said. "I just moved in next door to the professor, and I'm trying to track him down for . . . some reason. Not sure why I'm bothering, to be entirely honest, but . . . do you have any idea where he might be?"
"Oh, I imagine he'll be out on Route 101, studying the Pokémon there. I'm not really sure what he's up to, though. He just dashed off about half an hour ago, shouting something about Zigzagoon."
"Thanks, Shelley," she said, heading for the door. "I can't stop to chat now, but I'll drop by later, 'kay?"
"Oh, Topaz!" Shelley exclaimed, stumbling after her. "Just remember: be careful out there! You don't have any Pokémon, so keep clear of wild ones, alright? You'd be in quite a pinch if you ran into one in the long grass," he warned. Topaz smiled.
"Don't worry, Shelley. I'll be fine. I'd like to see some little Pokémon try to take me on – there's nothing bigger than a Poochyena around here." With that, she bolted out of the door, leaving a very bemused Shelley behind her.
But slowly, out of the blackness, the slightly grainy image of a man swam into focus. Topaz squinted at him curiously. Standing in a pool of yellow light projected from some invisible source, he was a strange-looking fellow. He was short, with stubby legs and an unruly mop of brown hair framing a rather round face that was wearing a somewhat bland smile. He was wearing a white coat, which immediately sparked connections in Topaz's brain. Scientist, she thought, without any shadow of a doubt, which was strange, because, well, there was no good evidence that this man was a scientist of any kind.
"Hey there, kiddo! How are you doing?" he asked out of the blue. Or . . . out of the black. Whichever. He sounded genuinely pleased to see her, which was odd, seeing as she didn't have a clue as to who he was. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting."
"Uh, no . . ." she mumbled uncertainly. "I . . . haven't been here long," she finished lamely, hoping this strange man would provide her with some clues as to where she was, but slightly afraid to ask him outright.
"My name is Birch," he said affably, "but everyone calls me the Pokémon Professor." Ah, so he is a scientist after all! Topaz thought triumphantly to herself. Well, at least she'd got that bit right. Her problem-solving skills hadn't been dulled by this strange, dark world, it seemed.
"This is what we call a Pokémon," he said, pulling a familiar red and white sphere from his pocket and thumbing the release switch. With a pop, a small blue creature with a yellow beak and a green lily-pad on its head appeared, croaking happily.
"Uh, I know that," Topaz said. "My dad's the Petalburg Gym Leader, actually, so I, um . . . I know a couple of things about Pokémon."
"Oh," said Birch, looking disappointed. "Oh. Does that mean . . . does that mean I don't need to tell you what Pokémon are?"
"Um . . . yes, it does," said Topaz, starting to feel a little weirded out by this odd scientist. She considered simply leaving, but where would she go? The best option, she decided reluctantly, was to simply stay near this man and his puddle of light.
"Well, anyway, I've been undertaking research on Pokémon," Birch continued. "Even though we know so much about them, there are still so many mysteries surrounding them!" His eyes glittered with fervour as he said this, and he clenched his fists in excitement. "Think of all the untold tales, the secrets that Pokémon hold, just waiting to be discovered!"
"If you . . . say so," Topaz said sceptically. He had a point, though. It was an interesting idea, at least. If she actually stopped to think about it, what did she really know about Pokémon? Not much, she admitted to herself. Maybe this wacko was onto something.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Birch exclaimed suddenly. "I forgot to ask you to introduce yourself! Are you a boy, or are you a girl?" Now, if somebody on the street had asked her this question, Topaz would most likely have pulled out the pepper spray and called the police, but somehow it seemed logical in this situation, albeit still slighly worrying. Looking down at her body, she realised that Birch's spotlight didn't extend to her. She could barely see her own outline, and supposed that Birch would be able to see even less.
"I'm a girl," she informed him, feeling around in her pocket for the container of pepper spray . . . just in case.
"Ah, I see, I see! And what's your name?" he pressed.
"It's . . . Topaz," she said. First name would have to do for now.
"Topaz, was it?" he enquired.
"Yes, Topaz," she replied irritably. She wasn't sure how he could have misheard her. He was only a few metres away, and there was no noise other than their voices, after all.
"Ah, okay! You must be the Topaz who's moving to my hometown of Littleroot! I get it now!"
"Huh? You live in Littleroot?" Topaz asked, taken aback. She was indeed moving to a town named Littleroot, she remembered. She wasn't sure how this key piece of information had escaped her recall, but then again, maybe it just hadn't been relevant until now. For that matter, though, shouldn't I be in the moving truck right about now?
"Yes, yes, I do!" Birch said. "Now, are you ready?"
"Ready for . . . what?" Topaz asked suspiciously. Where the hell did I leave that pepper spray?
"Your very own adventure is about to unfold! Take courage, and leap into the world of Pokémon where dreams, adventure and friendships await!" As the spotlight on Birch began fading slowly away, all she could think was: What world have I been living in for the last ten years of my life, then? Is this some kind of joke?
Out of what was now total darkness, Birch's voice echoed: "Well, I'll be expecting you later. Be sure to drop by my Pokémon Lab and say hi!" Yeah, right, Topaz thought. If this isn't some screwed-up hallucination and this weirdo really does live in Littleroot, I'm staying well away from him!
Topaz felt herself being squeezed all of a sudden, an unpleasant sensation akin to being put through a mangle, she imagined. Even though she had never been put through a mangle – thank Mew for that – she supposed it must feel something like this.
She felt herself losing consciousness, but the scariest thing was that there was no fade-to-black like in the books she'd read. Just . . . black-to-black.
* * *
What seemed like hours later, Topaz became vaguely aware of a distant rumbling.
"Uhn?" she mumbled drowsily, trying unsuccessfully to open her eyes. Her cheek was pressed against a hard surface, and the rumbling seemed a lot closer now. It was awfully cold, and her whole body was bouncing and vibrating.
Making a concerted effort, Topaz cracked her eyes open to observe her surroundings. It was still quite dark, but at least there was light, not like . . .
With a start, Topaz sat bolt upright, realisation flooding over her. It had been a dream. The slightly creepy guy called Birch hadn't really existed. She was riding in the back of the moving truck, and had fallen asleep. Glancing around, Topaz took in the precariously stacked cardboard boxes all around her, breathing a sigh of relief for the fact that none of them had fallen on her. Surely this was against health and safety regulations, never mind the law. She hadn't even been wearing a seatbelt – not that she particularly cared.
The truck bounced slightly as it went over a pothole in the road, and the still-drowsy Topaz somehow managed to fall over, cracking her head on the floor. Uttering some choice swear words that would have made her mother faint, Topaz struggled back into a sitting position, holding a hand to her head.
"Ugh," she moaned. If she hadn't been so stubborn, she could have waited a few hours for the truck to get back to Petalburg for its second trip. Then she might have been able to sit up front. As if to mock her for being foolish enough to ride in the back of a moving truck, it was at that precise moment that the driver decided to slam on the brakes. Violently.
Picking herself up for the second time in as many minutes, Topaz was about ready to scream with frustration when she realised that the engine had stopped and the truck was no longer moving. Thank Mew for that, she thought with relief as the back doors of the truck swung open, letting fresh air and golden light flood the dark cavity. Yawning cavernously, Topaz jumped down from the back of the truck, ignoring the helpful Vigoroth who was trying to lift her down.
"I can do it myself," she snapped. It was a bit late to be offering courtesy now, after making her ride the whole way here in the back of a truck. What sort of moving company even allowed that, let alone actively practiced it? "Screw you. Go shift some boxes," she snapped rudely in response to the Pokémon's sorrowful bleating.
Moving a few steps away from the truck, Topaz took in the view. She had to admit, it was very pleasant. Though the entire area was surrounded by close-knit woods, the town itself was anything but overgrown. Short, lush grass seemed to be the order of the day, with freshly-scented orange and yellow flowers dotted around. The buildings were quaint little stone affairs, with terracotta tiled roofs, and each had its own little garden. The boxy, modern moving truck seemed quite out of place in what was obviously –
"Such a backwards place!" Topaz sulked. Sure, it was pretty, and the scent of a million different flowers was in the air, but it really didn't look like there was much to do. Surely this was the most boring settlement ever devised by humankind, orchestrated purely to annoy the hell out of her?
"We're here, honey!" sang Topaz's mum from behind her, sounding a lot happier than Topaz felt. "It must be tiring riding with our things in the moving truck," she said anxiously, misinterpreting Topaz's yawn of utter boredom – which seemed to have kicked in automatically, she noticed with detached distaste – for one born of fatigue.
"Not really," Topaz said drily. "I slept for a little bit on the way." And had a dream about a weird scientist who said he lived here, she added silently, frowning slightly.
"Oh, that's nice, dear. Well, this is Littleroot Town!" she proclaimed cheerfully.
"That's reassuring," Topaz muttered under her breath. At least the driver had been competent enough to get them to the right place.
"How do you like it, love? This is our new home. It has a quaint feel –"
"– Damn right it does –"
"– but it seems like a nice place to live, don't you think?" she finished hopefully, her eyes pleading silently with her daughter to agree with her for once. Topaz snorted derisively.
"Like hell it does," she sulked.
"Ah, um . . . Well, at least you get your own room, Topaz!" her mum said awkwardly, trying to salvage the conversation.
What, like I didn't have my own room back home? Topaz wondered, rolling her eyes. Maybe this place was still in the eighteenth century, she reasoned. She'd heard that having a bedroom to oneself was unheard of back then.
"Let's go inside and have a look!" trilled her mother suddenly, breaking Topaz's chain of thought. She'd have to think about that later. Reluctantly, she followed the other through the door.
"See, Topaz? Isn't it nice in here, too?"
Inside was, at the very least, a slight improvement on outside. The entirety of the ground floor, as far as she could see, was an open-plan kitchen/dining/living room combo. There didn't appear to be a couch or anything as of yet, but there were four passably comfortable-looking chairs surrounding the square table that sat on the pink rug in the middle of the floor. Topaz had always hated that rug. It smelled of mothballs, and she couldn't believe they hadn't gotten rid of it when they moved. The TV was positioned so that everybody sitting around the table could see it without too much difficulty, and a Vigoroth techie was busy plugging in wires underneath it.
"The mover's Pokémon do all the work of moving us in and cleaning up after," Topaz's mum explained happily. "It's so convenient, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is," Topaz admitted. If it wasn't for the Vigoroth strutting around, she realised, she would have most likely been the one lifting all the boxes. Her mother was hardly one for heavy lifting of any kind, and her dad . . . well, Norman was still at the Gym in Petalburg, of course. He wouldn't be moving out into the sticks with them until he could find a new Gym Leader.
"Anyway, love, your room is upstairs. Go check it out, dear. Dad bought you a new clock to mark our move here. Don't forget to set it!" Oh, whoopee, a new clock, Topaz thought ruefully as she headed for the stairs. Just what I always wanted. Thanks, Dad.
As she emerged from the ridiculously dark stairwell, dodging yet another Vigoroth barrelling down them at a hundred miles an hour – they certainly were vigorous – Topaz let out a small gasp of surprise. Her room was huge! It was almost as big as the entire downstairs section of the house, albeit just as tastelessly decorated, she noted with disapproval. Most of the floor was taken up by a pink rug that matched the one downstairs.
"Would it have killed you to get me a green one, Mum?" she muttered. At least she could always get rid of it later. Her bed, familiar and welcoming, was set up on the other side of the room, and she flumped down on it with a sigh of relief as she scanned the rest of the area. There was certainly plenty of floor space. In one corner of the room, her PC was already set up on a desk, with her notebook sitting next to it. Getting up, she flipped through it idly. There wasn't much there, past a few notes she'd written to herself regarding the video game she'd been playing the week before.
Next to the desk was the familiar TV, with her GameCube already set up next to it. She checked that her Game Boy Advance was still connected as a controller and glanced around the walls. Over her desk was the map of the Hoenn region that her dad had given her for her eighth birthday. She noticed that somebody had tacked a chibified version of her face – complete with green bandana – to the spot on the map that read 'Littleroot Town'. It had been her mother's doing, no doubt. Some kind of weird 'Home Sweet Home' thing, she assumed. Sighing, she glanced across at the clock on the wall. It was a plain thing, round and pink, made of cheap-looking plastic. The hands were both pointing rigidly at the 12, unmoving.
"Meh, I'll set it later," she said dismissively, and headed downstairs, only to be met by her mother at the bottom of the stairs.
"Topaz, did you set the clock in your room, honey?"
"Well, no, but -"
"Go set it, then, love," her mother prodded insistently.
"I'll do it later, but I wanted to -"
"Go do it now, love. I can talk to you all you like once you've done that."
"But -"
"Now, honey."
"Okay, okay, jeez! What's got your knickers in a knot?" Topaz stormed bad-temperedly upstairs again. Still sulking and muttering under her breath, she took the clock off the wall and fiddled with the knobs on the back, checking against her wristwatch to make sure she had the right time. 8:44 am.
No sooner had she finished, her mother appeared at the top of the stairs, beaming.
"Topaz, how do you like you new room?" she asked.
"It's . . . OK," Topaz admitted, suddenly unwilling to admit how much she actually liked it. "You know I hate that rug, Mum! Why'd you have to put that in here?"
"That's a family heirloom, honey! It was in my room when I was a little girl, and in my mother's room before that!"
"No wonder it's so musty, then," Topaz muttered under her breath, making a mental note to toss the bloody thing out of a window the first chance she got. Even if she was forced to take it back, it would probably smell markedly better for a little fresh air.
"Good! Everything's put away neatly! They finished moving everything in downstairs, too. Pokémon movers are so convenient!"
"Yes, Mum, we've established that," Topaz said drily.
"Hmm?"
"You said the same thing five minutes ago," Topaz explained.
"Well, never mind. You should make sure that everything's all there on your desk, love. If anything's gotten lost in the move, we'll need to tell them about it now."
"Yeah, I already looked," she said. "It's all there – not that there was much in the first place." It was true, she realised as she said it. She didn't really have much junk to set up around her room. Most of her time was spent outside, but judging by the look of this place, there wouldn't be much to do inside or out. Sighing, she followed her mother down the stairs. Perhaps she should invest in a Wii, she considered.
"Oh, Topaz, Topaz, come quickly!" her mother called from over in front of the TV. Topaz blinked. How had she managed to get over there so fast? Sighing for what seemed like the millionth time that morning, she reluctantly moved to stand by the TV. "Look! It's Petalburg Gym! Maybe Dad will be on!" Topaz focused her attention on the screen.
"We brought you this report from in front of Petalburg Gym," the reporter said, bowing slightly towards the camera as the screen cut to a commercial for garden gnomes.
"Oh, it's over," her mum said disappointedly. "I think Dad was on, but we missed him. Too bad. Oh, yes, that reminds me! One of Dad's friends lives in town!"
"Oh, really? Who's that?" Topaz asked curiously. The idea that Dad knew someone from this backwater, middle-of-nowhere place was slightly far-fetched, but . . .
"Professor Birch is his name."
Topaz closed her eyes and bit her lip, exhaling sharply through her nose . Oh, Mew, no! Topaz thought desperately. You did not just say that. You did not just tell me that.
"He lives right next door, love, so you should go over and introduce yourself."
Had the dream, then, been more than just a dream? If Professor Birch was actually real, then did that mean . . . She didn't really want to finish that thought. All she knew was that she really didn't want to talk to this Birch person. She had been really creeped out by the strange scientist that had appeared in her dark dream world, and she had hardly expected his claims to have any basis in real life.
No, calm down, she told herself. It was just a dream. If he's a friend of Dad's, he can't be all that weird in real life. You can't trust dreams. Shivering slightly, she gritted her teeth and decided that she would go and talk to the professor, just to make sure. Patting her pocket to make sure the canister of pepper spray was still there, she pushed the door open and headed for the professor's house.
The house next door was almost identical to her own – from the outside, at least – but not quite. It took her a moment to work out the difference, but she soon realised that it was essentially a mirror image. The door was at the opposite end of the house, and the windows were arranged back to front. A little nervously, she went to knock on the door. It swung open at her touch, and she stepped back involuntarily. When nobody answered, she poked her head in cautiously.
"Hello?" she ventured.
"Oh, hello!" Topaz swung her head around so fast that she almost cricked her neck. A beaming woman with brown hair pulled back into a bun came bustling over from the kitchen table, which, Topaz noted with some consternation, was in the exact same position as her own, just reversed. Actually, the entire interior was the exact opposite of the downstairs section of her house. It was as if she had just walked through a mirror into a reflection, rather than another building altogether. "Who might you be, sweetie?"
"I'm, uh, Topaz," she began, but didn't get any further than that.
"Oh, of course, you're our new neighbour! I'm Mrs Birch, but you can call me Mary. I'm delighted you've arrived!" Mary seemed to be a little too delighted about everything, Topaz reflected.
"It's, uh, nice to meet you," Topaz said, lying through her teeth. This woman was just a little bit too bubbly for her liking. "But I'm looking for the professor. Is he . . . around?" She glanced around, but there didn't seem to be anyone else in the room, other than a very small child tottering aimlessly about.
"Oh, no, sweetie, he's not here right now. But I have a son about the same age as you, and he's been looking forward to meeting you. He's upstairs right now, I think. Go on up and say howdy!"
"Uh, I'm not sure if I . . ."
"Oh, don't be silly, sweetie. Just go ahead, it's no trouble!" Mary flapped her hands around distractedly, ushering her towards the stairs. Topaz reluctantly allowed herself to be ushered. Maybe it would be good to make a friend anyway. It would certainly make life slightly less boring.
As she emerged from the stairwell, the first thing that Topaz noticed was that this room, too, was a reversal of her own. Maybe they used the same moving company when they moved in, and never bothered to change anything, she wondered. Either way, she made a mental note to rearrange the furniture at her house as soon as she possibly could. There was even a rug on the floor much like her own, except that this one was blue. The second thing she noticed was that she was very much alone in the room. What sort of mother doesn't know where her son is? she wondered.
"Eh, what's this?" Topaz's sharp eyes had picked out a small orb lying on the floor next to the bed. One half of it was red, and the other white, with a slim black band dividing the two, splitting into a small circle with a white button inside it. A Poké Ball. Did it belong to the Birch kid? Curious as to its contents, she bent down to pick it up.
"Hey, you!" said someone behind her. "Who are you?" She stood up and spun round guiltily.
"I'm, uh, Topaz," she said. "I just moved in next door." She sized up the person facing her. It was obviously the Birch kid – who else would be in the Birch kid's room, after all? Then again, she reminded herself, she was in the Birch kid's room, and she wasn't the Birch kid. The first thing she noticed about him was that his hair was a shocking white. It didn't look dyed; rather, it seemed to be natural, which was strange. He wore a green headband with a Poké Ball logo on it, an orange and grey jacket, matching pants and fingerless orange gloves.
"I didn't know that you were a girl," he said, looking a little disappointed. "Dad said that our new neighbour was a Gym Leader's kid, so I kinda assumed you'd be a guy."
"Well, excuse me, then! You can't just assume stuff, jerk! You know what? You can take your assumptions and shove them up your -"
"Ah, ah, ah!" he said quietly, infuriating her with his cool demeanour. "Be nice, now. Girls shouldn't talk like that. Anyway," he continued as if nothing had happened, "my name's Brendan." He held out his hand for her to shake. Topaz clenched her fists. She felt like punching this arrogant little sod right on the nose, but she had to content herself with simply ignoring the offered hand.
"Delighted," she forced out through gritted teeth.
"Hey, Topaz, do you have a Pokémon yet?" he asked suddenly.
"Huh? Um, well . . . no," she admitted.
"I didn't think so. You are a girl, after all," he drawled. Topaz glared at him.
"Look here, you, I didn't come here to get insulted by a stuck-up brat like you! If you carry on like that, I'm just gonna beat the crap out of you, capische? So just shut the hell up, okay?" she yelled. Brendan averted his eyes slightly and endured her tirade. When she'd finished, he spoke again.
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry. I'll take it back. Tell you what, how about I go catch you a Pokémon to apologise properly?" he offered. Topaz was caught off guard by the sudden show of generosity.
"Um, I . . . I'd . . ." she mumbled, not quite sure what to say. "That'd be . . . nice, I guess. I'd like that." Wait, what the hell am I saying? she berated herself inwardly. This guy's a total douchebag! Why should I bother with him? All the same, she was oddly touched.
"Aw, darn! I forgot!" he exclaimed, slapping his forehead. "I'm supposed to go help my dad study some wild Pokémon! Some other time, okay?" he said. Brendan dashed across to his desk and began tossing things haphazardly into a green backpack.
"Um, what?" Topaz said dumbly, but Brendan ignored her, only continuing to mutter randomly to nobody in particular.
"Pokémon fully restored . . . Items all packed, and . . ." he mumbled, rifling through a drawer.
"Hmph! I don't believe you!" Topaz spat. "The nerve!" Seeing that she was still being ignored, she turned on her heel and dashed down the stairs.
"What is his problem?" she asked out loud.
"Are you alright, sweetie?" asked Brendan's mum as she caught sight of Topaz heading for the door. "I thought I heard somebody yelling."
"No, it's OK," Topaz lied, forcing a smile.
"Well, that's good. If you can't find the professor, he might be at the lab," she offered. Topaz nodded.
"Thanks." She pushed the door open and left, fuming. That guy's got some nerve, she thought angrily. He gets all high and mighty and then acts as if he doesn't understand why I get pissed at him. What the hell is up with him? She silently resolved to see as little of Brendan Birch as she possibly could. She hoped the kid didn't take after his father.
"I guess I'd better try the lab, then," she sighed, not addressing anyone in particular. As if there was anyone in this backwater junk-town that would listen. Glancing around, Topaz decided to try the largest building in town – there weren't many to choose from, she noted with annoyance. Although it only had one storey, it had the added value of being somewhat modern. The walls were grey concrete instead of quaint red brick, the windows and doors looked heavy and industrial, and the roof was corrugated iron rather than tiles. A sign out the front proclaimed 'Prof. Birch's Pokémon Lab'. Good guess, she congratulated herself, tugging the door open.
"Oi, is there a Professor Birch in here?" she called, glancing around. There were shelves scattered haphazardly around the room, evidently with no concern for freedom of movement. Passage was further obscured by piles of books and various computer desks, arranged completely randomly around the place, or so it seemed. A forlorn-looking pot plant in once corner tried futilely to restore some sense of order to the interior. "What a mess . . ." Topaz muttered disapprovingly. There was a sudden scuffling behind one of the bookcases, followed by the ejection of a young, nerdy-looking man in a white coat, with big round glasses and slicked-back black hair. He looked as if he'd just fallen off a cliff, but Topaz was in no mood to help him up.
"Huh? Professor Birch?" the man burbled. "The Prof's away on fieldwork. That means, of course, that he's working in the field. Ergo, he isn't here."
"I see," Topaz said. "And what kind of fieldwork might that be?"
"Oh, of course. Let me explain. It is to study things in the natural environment, like fields and mountains, instead of a laboratory. The Prof isn't one for doing desk work. He's the type of person who would rather go outside and experience things rather than read about them here. He's so great like that! He's a role model and an inspiration to me!" he babbled. His eyes shone when he talked about 'the Prof', she noticed.
"Are you some kind of assistant?" she asked him.
"Yes, yes, that's me!" he exclaimed, extending an ink-stained hand. "I'm Shelley, Shelley Richards. I help the Prof with his research." Topaz shook his hand thoughtfully. Despite having what could only be described as a fanatical devotion to Professor Birch, Shelley was the most sensible person she'd met in this town so far, including her own mother.
"I'm Topaz," she said. "I just moved in next door to the professor, and I'm trying to track him down for . . . some reason. Not sure why I'm bothering, to be entirely honest, but . . . do you have any idea where he might be?"
"Oh, I imagine he'll be out on Route 101, studying the Pokémon there. I'm not really sure what he's up to, though. He just dashed off about half an hour ago, shouting something about Zigzagoon."
"Thanks, Shelley," she said, heading for the door. "I can't stop to chat now, but I'll drop by later, 'kay?"
"Oh, Topaz!" Shelley exclaimed, stumbling after her. "Just remember: be careful out there! You don't have any Pokémon, so keep clear of wild ones, alright? You'd be in quite a pinch if you ran into one in the long grass," he warned. Topaz smiled.
"Don't worry, Shelley. I'll be fine. I'd like to see some little Pokémon try to take me on – there's nothing bigger than a Poochyena around here." With that, she bolted out of the door, leaving a very bemused Shelley behind her.
