Amelia awoke to a world of lush greenery. The grass glowed a healthy shade of emerald everywhere she looked, and the nearby lakes sparkled with a shining, pure brilliance. She smiled slightly, a serene expression that she was used to. It was a beautiful place, and though it was not the same sort of beauty as the kind that her well-cared-for gardens possessed, it was nonetheless wonderful, inspiring and stunning to gaze upon. A slight electronic 'blip' sounded, and she looked for its source, her eyes settling on the new-found gadget at her wrist. It looked like a watch...
A message was on its face.
It ... it has begun. A tinge of sadness crept into her smile. I wanted to, perhaps, enjoy the scenery a little more, but ...
"Mm." She read through the message. A Persian's theft of various eggs was the problem that needed solving, or so it appeared. She reached down to one of her pockets, extricating a white spherical device with a red band through its middle, and a button situated on that band.
"Lanculus ... Come forth!"
A stream of red energy spewed into the air from the Premier Ball that Amelia held in her hands, gradually coalescing into the light-green gelled form of a Rankurusu.
I am here to serve, milady. The cool voice of Lanculus resounded inside Amelia's mind with a familiar clarity and crispness. Is there anything ... Its telepathic voice trailed off as it began to glow with a faint rosy aura for a few seconds.
A Persian.
"Yes, Lanculus. I ... had Metagross in mind; do you have any other suggestions ... " Amelia let her voice fall a little, then rise again, clearly indicating that it was a question she was asking. "?"
No, milady. That is likely the most capable choice we have within our pool of knowledge and resources. The Lanculus nodded, ever so slightly, tilting its head a little. Metagross is extremely tough in nature, and quite capable in offense as well. Amelia considered the telepathic communique for a second, then inclined her head in agreement. Reaching down to her pocket to pick out another Premier Ball from the folds of her pocket, she clicked the button in the centre of the sphere delicately, allowing a ray of crimson light to amalgamate into a tremendous, steel-covered four-armed tank.
"Metagross. I ... require you to seek out a ... certain Persian for me, today." She paused carefully with each syllable that rolled off her tongue, and gazed placidly at the metallic form, her tone at once both gentle and commanding. "Will you ... lend me your aid?" In response to this statement, the many-appendaged Pokemon began to float a little off the ground, its eyes shining with a faint pinkish haze.
Metagross is scanning. Amelia thought, blinking to clear a stray strand of hair out of her eye. Its capacity ... a supercomputer, and much more reliable in terms of constancy of performance. She waited patiently for several minutes, lightly resting her slender fingers on the cool metal of the Iron Leg Pokemon's body. After a while, Metagross's internal hum began to quiet down, and it pointed one of its four limbs in a northwestern direction.
She smiled lightly at this. The Persian's location was likely indeed situated somewhere in the distance to that direction, if Metagross had found it. It had never failed her before, and she saw no reason for it to fail now; she dusted the fabric of her dress off a little, drinking in the enchanting landscape around her once again, and set off, her shoes softly crunching into the soft grass below.
In a nearby patch of thick grass, not some thousand metres or so away, the aforementioned Persian lurked silently, petting the eight eggs that were part of its hoard. It purred, audibly satisfied with its hiding place, and its claws glinted in the sunlight, almost taking on a metallic timbre. Something was about to confront it and challenge it to its territory and hoardings, that much it knew, and it began to formulate a counter-offensive ambush plan.
Ten minutes passed by uneventfully, the ambient grassland sounds of rustles in the grass and the occasional bird Pokemon call undisrupted as hunter and hunted chased after one another. However, the identity of each was quite debatable.
Another ten minutes passed by. Then twenty.
Just as Amelia was about to query Metagross on the subject, a fierce, triumphant yowl, distinctly feline, was heard behind her. She blinked, confused, but Metagross was already moving, its metallic bulk moving with surprising swiftness, allowing the Persian's attack to rebound off its armor and protecting its charge. Its eyes radiated a cold resolve and a quiet anger, steadfast in its purpose, at the Persian, whose expression was a gleeful and sadistic one.
Miss Serena! Be careful. Following a faint hum from Metagross, these thoughts were delivered into Amelia's mind even as their bearer steeled itself for battle. A rain of quick jabs with its frontal limbs at the Persian was avoided by the Persian, who leaped an alarming distance into the air and brought down a paw with wickedly sharp nails in a scything motion. Night Slash? Amelia wondered.
"... Meteor Mash." She waved a delicate hand before her, a commanding tone in her voice. "I ... will depend on you, Metagross."
Of course, milady. The Metagross's right hand began to glow, and soon a shining corona of brilliance surrounded it. The Persian, sensing that something was out of the ordinary, purred in a manner that seemed to denote slight arrogance and settled into a crouch, ready to leap again. It was met with surprise when the punch that was aimed by Metagross hit the air almost directly above it instead, and suddenly a storm of meteoric particles crashed down upon the Persian, scoring bruises and scratches of various shapes and sizes. Metagross gave off a faint aura of crimson as it executed the attack, its fury rising to ever greater heights immediately after the punch's landing.
The Persian, however, was far from being outwitted. With a guttural snarl, it leaped up from the grass, its plethora of wounds seemingly ignored. Its claws glinted in the morning light (or was it afternoon? Amelia wasn't entirely sure) as it struck down at Metagross with a vicious scything motion. The air seemed to turn a little bit colder, and the sun's light dimmed momentarily, as the Persian executed a Night Slash against the Steel/Psychic machine Pokemon. Though Metagross had ample time to process the attack, the movement was so swift that it could not raise a jagged arm to parry the maneuver, and it visibly winced as the sharp implements raked across its outer shell.
Amelia bit down upon a fingernail unconsciously, blinking in surprise. "...!" Hurriedly, she waved a hand forward, directing Metagross's next attack. "... Hammer Arm, Metagross!" As soon as she gave that command, she frowned, her graceful features forming an expression of intense concentration. I'm ... not sure if that was the best idea, after all.
In reply, the metallic supercomputer obediently raised an arm, which began to glow with a deep burgundy, and levitated into the air, bringing the fist into the Persian's flank with crippling force. The Persian howled in insufferable pain, and slashed at Metagross again with the same motion it had employed just a moment before.
Amelia sighed in frustration. The Persian was obviously quite powerful and somewhat devious, to say the least. She did not want such a confrontation to last for any extended period of time, lest she lose the small advantage that she possessed at the moment.
"... Lanculus." Amelia whispered to the Multiplying Pokemon. "Communicate ... to that Persian that we do not wish it lasting harm. It ... it need only return the eggs that it stole, to their original owners."
Rankurusu inclined its head very slightly, and a psychic drone filled the air as a rose-tinted aura surrounded it and the opposing Persian. A few seconds later, the Persian gestured with its head, shaking it back and forth.
"... I see. I feel that this is possibly unfair, but I ... I do not have any other plans of action." She let out a small sigh, curtseying a little to the Persian. "I ... apologize in advance for any inconvenience. ... Lanculus! ... Metagross!" She took a deep breath before continuing. "Engage at once ... Block, Metagross. Focus Blast, Lanculus."
A beam of white light shot out of the X-shaped mustache on Metagross's body, flying at the Persian at immense speed. The latter managed to evade the seeking attack for a fraction of a second, but became trapped shortly thereafter. The former, having trapped it, was also suspended in a state of stasis; however, this did not impede the Rankurusu in any way, shape or form, and a blue sphere of power appeared between the Multiplying Pokemon's gelled limbs. After only a moment's hesitation (or concentration, maybe), Rankurusu seemed to will the orb to soar at the cat-like Pokemon, and it made impact with a sickening crunch. Freed from the Block but now with a limp in its movement, the Persian growled in anger.
Amelia's expression grew wistful. "... Lanculus. Recommunicate, if you would; our intentions. "
Rankurusu forged a psychic link between it and the Persian a second time. This time, after the communications were finished (though it took quite a bit longer than it did last time), it seemed ready to agree to the terms, swaying its head down curtly and stalking into the grass, the combat finished. A smile, coloured with sadness, returned to Amelia's countenance, and she waved slightly at the receding figure of the Persian.
"... Lanculus." She examined the Multiplying Pokemon's demeanor carefully, as if preparing to create a portrait, but Rankurusu knew it was her way of expressing that she was ... struggling not to express something. "Why ... must there be injustice in the world?"
If I knew the answer to that question, milady... Would injustice not have been eradicated a long time ago? The Rankurusu smiled a little as well at this question, its mien suffused with a suggestion of bitterness.
"... Mm." Amelia rapidly blinked. "They ... I do not think they are truly evil, you know. ... Or, that is ... " Her blinking began to increase in frequency even more, and she choked back a sound that she would have reflexively made. A whimper? The Rankurusu could not be sure.
"That is what I believe, Lanculus."
Even so, milady. I hope that you can continue to hold on to your beliefs, and be true to your own thoughts. ...
"... I can never ... thank you enough, can I ..." A shadow of amusement crept back into Amelia's voice, and Rankurusu exhaled in relief.
... We live to serve.
The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully, as Amelia spent most of the afternoon planting and tending to the few berries that she was able to bring along on the trip. "We ... should have excellent harvests, " she assured her Pokemon after calling on Doredia to perform a Sunny Day to aid the plants. Her smile did not fade from her face for an instant, but the Rankurusu knew that it was always an uphill battle, the one she fought with her own emotions and thoughts.
We help in whichever ways we are able to, it reassured itself, nodding in agreement to its own statement.
The Pokemon made camp at a lakeside, Rankurusu and Metagross setting up a temporary living space, lifting rocks and polishing them with their psychic abilities (and in Metagross's case, its sharp claws as well), and Chirachiino was able to scavenge a variety of sweetgrasses to layer the ground of the shelter with. It was not amazing in terms of architectural soundness, and the roof was composed of the space blanket that Amelia had brought along with her, but it was a fine place to live in, at least during the first few days.
Food was not difficult to come by. Archeos, alarmingly swift and able to run at the speed of a racecar, harvested a variety of fruits from a forest location it reported to be "some amount of distance away" to Rankurusu, though obviously the exact distance was unknown, as Archeos needed time to gather the fruits as well. Chirachiino, ever the resourceful scavenger, was able to find a few berry bushes containing Bluk Berries, Nanab Berries, and Watmel Berries, which were excellent additions to the findings that Archeos was able to make. The dinner was not sumptious by any measure of the word, but everyone who partook of it was able to fill him or herself.
- day 1 -
fin.
