Doing everything around the base is usually pretty boring, but it’s probably a good thing that I’ve been so close to Espeon. He’s been opening himself up slightly and then closing off again all day, and I’m trying not to worry about that. The relative rarity and lack of solid knowledge about psychic phenomena meant that learning how to deal with them was necessarily not a large focus in the academy.

“Eiffer,” The object of my thoughts chirps from where he’s stretched out on the table, opening his feelings for a moment rather than sending a selection. He’s still afraid, uncertain, and feeling very complicated about something, but he’s not feeling worse so that’s at least not bad.

“You know you’re going to get a lot bigger at some point, and you won’t be able to climb furniture like that,” I comment, drying the second to last dish before putting it away.

“Eion,”–Indifference.

“Vile,” Weaver pipes up, making a show of casually leaning against the wall, a puff of darkness rolling off her as she sighs.

It’s still interesting, watching her do that. She’s more in control of herself now, burning off her unwanted emotions instead of building to a tantrum. Even before they were called ‘dark-types’ those pokemon have typically been seen as cold loners or unfeeling savages when, unless they need to be, they are mostly anything but. They’re more playful and loyal in my experience.

…I have an unusual amount of contact with the three mystical types, don't I? I pause, having just put the last cup away. I have spent more time around them than almost anybody I can think of.

Espeon is as highly emotional as I’d expected, but he’s also hurting and seems unable to accept help. Weaver has always been an odd one, trying to make friends as a sneasel. Which worked, I suppose, as we met because doing so got her in trouble. And I don’t have much to say about Misdreavus, we’ve only truly met twice after all, but Weaver seems to like them, so that’s enough for me.

I should probably start writing things about the three of them down to give to Rowan once he gets here…

“Hey, Karlos got the projector set up,” Emil’s voice comes around the doorframe shortly before the man himself does, breaking me from my thoughts. “Although Maya and Katie are still out grabbing the movie, I thought I’d get you so we can settle in.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a moment. Thanks, Emil,” I say, giving the man a wave as I shake the rest of my musings off, moving to stand over Espeon. “Are you going to make me pick you up?” I ask the boneless pokemon.

His response is to just barely stick his tongue out.

***

Katie picked a movie from Unova, unsurprisingly, but it’s been a fun one so far. Weaver especially seems to be enjoying the scenes with the sneasel in them.

"Rio'o lu?!" The costumed riolu cries, the captions revealing it as 'Are you alright?!'

Maybe that’s why she’s enjoying the movie so much, most movie studios don’t bother captioning the pokemon, even if the ones in the movie are being painted over by the Sinnohan translation.

Something I've been noticing throughout the movie strikes me again as the sneasel starts rapidly swiping at the riolu. I frown at the half-mechanical- no at the pokemon under the costume, it's slight, but the way he's moving makes me think his range of motion is smaller than a riolu's should be.

I glance at Katie, fully focused on the movie, before sliding closer to Maya, “I’ve only seen riolu at the academy…” I whisper, and Maya holds up a hand to stop me.

"The way he's moving, right?" She whispers back, giving her own short glance at Katie. "I thought it was just acting at first, but I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with his chest."

"Retired battler?" I quietly ask as we both watch the sneasel go flying across the beach from a single blow. "He's got the muscle for it."

“That was my thought as well, but he looks too young for that… I think the movie’s going to get quiet again, sorry,” Maya waves me back to my bunk, an apologetic look on her face.

The rest of the movie has its twists, the attempted kidnapping—only for the titular Sneasel Ninja to be outsmarted, Metal-Cop needing to be reminded of his humanity, and the eventual reveal of why he and Riolu are half machine. Katie does have good taste in movies.

“So, maybe not a retired battler,” Maya comments once the credits start rolling. “A good pick, given the story, but…”

Yeah, ‘but how did a riolu get scars like that?’ Is a great question. They looked like healed second, or possibly even third-degree burns. Pokemon are tough, really tough, and wounds like that don’t happen easily outside the wild. I can’t help the morbid thought that it’s ironic that a steel-typed lucario wouldn’t burn like that, and their pack structure would normally protect a riolu from anything that could do that.

"At least he seems to be doing well," I say, Maya and I sharing a look, and then we both look at Emil, the man having followed our quiet conversation.

“I thought it was acting and makeup at first,” He casually admits. “Though taken together, it is an interesting mystery.”

“That was a good movie,” Karlos opines, cutting off our discussion while putting the projector away. “Good pick, Katie.”

“I didn’t get to see it at the theater,” Katie shrugs. “And I heard it was supposed to be good…”

“It was,” I confirm, nodding. Then I turn to give Espeon a long look, the cat having claimed a larger portion of my bed at some point during the movie. “I’m not afraid to throw you off if it comes to it,” I tell him.

He chuffs, and I feel a small amount of enjoyment from him before,–Amusement.

His behavior’s been understandably erratic today, moving between withdrawn, extroverted, aloof, teasing, and somewhat clingy. `You’ve also pushed your luck with looking into my head, twice now, but it’s not a constant issue, yet,` I do my best to think that last part rather hard at Espeon.

Contrition. Shame. Regret.–Flows from him to me, making me sigh.

“You know I can feel when you do that, right?” He flinches slightly at my words, but I do my best to push how I feel to the front. `I’m not upset, not yet, at least. I know you’re a psychic and it’s part of what you are, but it’s still impolite. Just try asking for permission first, okay?`

“Espeon,”–Understanding. Shame. He informs me, rolling upright-

Both his and Weaver’s ears suddenly raise, Weaver herself quickly standing, “Weave!” Weaver says. “Weavile, vile!” She continues, pulling me from the bedside as-

Oh, that is quite loud.

I’m already making my way to the lockers, Emil right behind me.

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

After everything with Marshal, it's nighttime now, the sun having set while she was drilling me on target practice. I’m looking forward to a relaxing night again, maybe I’ll try working on illusions instead of ghost or psychic control.

I’m still doing… whatever this psychic thing is. It's comfortingly calming, and it also makes me scarily focused and able to remain aware while thinking. I don't think my thoughts are moving faster, or that I'm actually taking the world in better, I'm just… clearer-headed, my ability to think and focus now less impeded by distraction.

That ability to keep track of things is why I’m getting worried, though. The forest is less colorful than usual, with some spots of color concentrating together, and others farther underground than normal. It's like everyone is hiding from something.

My clearing is coming into view on the edge of my visual range. I think there's even more growth now, but Leaf's color-sphere-thing is gone, possibly hiding for the same reason everyone else is. That… makes me a bit angry, to be honest. Not at Leaf, but at whatever has everyone hiding, I'd been looking forward to talking to him tonight.

Maybe I should go looking for why it’s so still and quiet?

And of course, right as I think that some strange things come into view against the not-space. I can see two humans easily enough, their pale-gray orbs inside my house. But there are… eleven odd, extremely bright spots around them. Or, wait, ten of them are closer together than the last one.

The bright spots are all small, oddly opaque spheres, their surfaces flickering in geometrical patterns, with colors ranging from ____ to ____, and they’re not radiating out like most bright things, but they are shedding… shedding…

Are those pokemon? Or- No, pokeballs?

I- Are these trainers that decided to try their luck? …No, everyone I've met has made it fairly clear that capturing pokemon is illegal here, even the trainer who walked out here seemed to respect that. So, they're… what, poachers? Just catching as many pokemon as they can before-

Leaf.

I feel my eyes turn to where I’d left him. Did he run? Was he caught? What do I even do here?

I’ve drifted closer, very thankful for my invisibility, and I can taste what’s going on. There’s some fear and uncertainty, but I think most of the pokemon are sleeping… Can you sleep in a pokeball? That doesn’t matter, Leaf is awake in one of them, I can taste enough anxiety to be sure about that.

I steady myself, allowing that calm feeling of power to wash over me again. This is the kind of thing to grab Marshal for. I can just fly over and warn her, it’s fine. It’s fine. I’m going to go do that right now.

…

The uncertainty, fear, and anxiety from the captured pokemon are all swirling around me, reminding me that there are living beings in those orbs. It's bringing my thoughts about what being caught would be like into the same sharp focus as everything else with my new power active.

That thought makes me freeze entirely, a cold chill passing over my body.

They were waiting for me, they found Leaf resting and now they’re waiting for me to wander back in. Several of my neighbors, and a friend, are trapped right in front of me.

…

And the thought of anyone I know being stolen away, being trafficked like animals- No, not like animals, like- like slaves. I'm starting to feel sick.

The way Espeon was feeling is something I can’t forget, and it's these kinds of people that did it to him, at least in part. And now they're trying to do it to people that I know. To Leaf. To me.

I don’t know if it’s something I’ve always been capable of, or if my new instincts pushing harder right now, but I'm going to hurt those two, aren't I?

It occurs to me that an extreme level of focus and calm doesn’t mean I can’t become angry, and it’s even a bit strange that I’m still so clear-headed right now. These are thoughts for later, though.

I never liked hurting people, and I know I’m probably going to regret this later. Hell, I could even stop myself if I wanted to.

…I don’t want to, however.

Breaching reality above my cabin, I reach out with psychic force.

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

"How much longer are you gonna say we should wait?" Hiro asks, starting to get on my nerves.

“Look, the one here is rare, yeah?” I ask, getting a nod. “And it’s on the list, so that means it’ll be worth it to wait most of the night if we have to, right?”

“I suppose I can’t argue that,” He grudgingly agrees. “Just feels like we could have had a lot more by now.”

“Yeah, but we still can, after-” Hiro- What? Hiro just flew out the door! “Hiro?!” I call, running for the door and-

I’m flying through the air for a moment before I hit the ground, rolling to a stop as I scramble to look around, wincing a little from a new set of scrapes.

“Hells, Hiro!" I yell once I see him also getting to his feet. We both landed on the far side of the clearing. "Send the koffing out!"

The wiry Johtonian shakes his head a bit but does as I said. Now, what did that? Most pokemon around here have been meek at worst, all trying to run.

“Gods,” Hiro swears, taking a step back.

Burning, crimson eyes are floating high above us inside a boiling cloud of darkness, a rolling glow and flashes of- of something lighting it up occasionally.

Since it’s just sitting there, I quickly throw a ball at it. Even if it doesn’t capture it’ll buy us a second. When the gets near them though, it freezes in mid-air before shattering, the glow from the cloud getting brighter.

“Shit, it’s a psychic. Koffing, douse the area, disable its powers. Then sleeping gas, choke it out!” I order, searching for the bag of captures in case we need to run. “Hiro, where’s the bag?!”

“It- It’s still in the building,” The other man says shakily, still staring at the floating cloud. Shit.

Koffing craters into the ground between us, puffing misty gas before I see something hit Hiro with a flash, and he collapses to his knees. What-

Then another flash has me feeling like I can hardly stand, as if everything weighs more than it should, but when I push against it my arms and legs feel strained. Then a horrible, wailing sound has my head-

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

It feels like I can still hear the howling, screeching sound, even four minutes later. The noise may have stopped only a minute after it started, but that's still a long time to keep up a cry loud enough to hear from inside the base. I shiver slightly, that sound is going to feature in my nightmares, I just know it.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Dodrio keeps pounding her feet, racing us toward the misdreavus’ cabin faster than we typically push it. I think this dodrio in particular might be becoming a permanent ride since we found her already waiting at the station, I'll probably start seeing her around town.

I sigh. I'm trying to distract myself, the ghost has been very laid back compared to what we know about ghost-types in general, so I don't think this is them just screaming for the sake of it. I’ll know for certain in a few more seconds.

We breach the clearing, and I start taking it in.

Two people in darker clothes are sprawled on the ground, likely unconscious, but breathing. There’s a koffing in a crater, slowly exhaling gas. It looks like the west half of the cabin collapsed, along with much of the roof. There’s new growth sprouting from the bare soil. And Marshal is talking to the misdreavus—who is currently shimmering with psychic force—with a concerned look on her face.

Marshal swivels her head to look at me, then goes back to comforting Misdreavus.

A team of two, and one pokemon. Perfect, just what I needed tonight.

“Are you okay?” I ask, joining the now three pokemon by the building.

Misdreavus gives me a blank look, their eyes looking through me and almost seeming to be burning with how much light they’re giving off, while Marshal gives me a shake of the head from behind the ghost. Misdreavus turns, psychically lifting part of the collapsed section of the building before moving it a meter and letting it fall, then a bag is levitated from the now accessible clear space to me.

“Mis,” They say, holding it out for me to take.

Doing so, I look inside. Pokeballs. Active pokeballs, ten of them.

Swearing under my breath, I flip my radio to open-broadcast and take the first ball out, “Barry, please tell me Katie’s not on comms right now.”

“She isn’t,” He replies quickly.

“Good, she doesn’t need the stress right now. Our smuggling group has graduated to poaching, we’ll need someone to come out to the ghost’s cabin with two runners.” I lock eyes with my fellow ranger, “Emil?” I ask the Kalosian, who nods and mounts back up again. I focus back on the situation, “And you need to inform Holt and the Union of poaching activity by our unknown party.” I continue, moving toward the semi-conscious men. If one of them tries to grab me I’m not holding back this time.

“Whau?” The first one ‘asks’ as I tie his wrists together, clearly off balance. Also bleeding from the ears, probably half deaf at this point.

Marshal has a cool look leveled at the two poachers, and it doesn't take a genius to know what she's thinking. "No, you can't kill them," I tell her, prompting her gaze to shift to me. "Not while I'm looking, at any rate," I add, and she rolls her eyes, but takes them off the two.

Granted, once I start releasing those pokemon and if someone she likes is in there, there isn't much I could do to stop her beyond asking. At least she tends to respect our authority.

The second man barely reacts as I tie his wrists together, then, making the logical leap, I take the pokeball from the ground next to him and open it, recalling the koffing so it stops gassing the area.

These two were indescribably lucky. If one of the less timid pokemon, or possibly Marshal, had been the one to fight back then we would likely struggle to find anything more than a red smear, assuming they were in a merciful mood. So, instead of a lethal lesson in how different wild pokemon can be from the acclimated ones, they received a likely permanently crippling one.

Much of the light fades from the area, and I turn, palming my flashlight in case I need it. Misdreavus’ eyes aren’t glowing as brightly anymore, said eyes starting to look panicked as they flick around, taking in the scene over and over.

“…Mismis, Misser! Misvus, dreavus-”

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

“-Shit, oh fuck! Oh god, I almost killed them!” I can’t help saying, nearly hissing the words out.

I attacked them, they’re barely conscious and bleeding and I almost killed them and it tasted so good and now I’ve lost that calm feeling! Fuck!

Marshal sighs somewhere behind me, "You did. And it was the right thing ta do," She asserts, and I feel something gently turning me. "Kid- Charlie, look at me," Marshal says. Why? I am looking at her. "In the eyes, Charlie." O- Oh. I look slightly up, those kind brown eyes staring back, "I get that ya don't like hurting anyone, but it was the right thing to do. I know most everyone would o’ went running or hiding, but you didn’t. I don’t know how many you saved, but even if it was just you that would be enough, okay?” She says it all so calmly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“She’s right, Charlie,” Weaver pipes up, causing me to look down. “Look at it this way, if you hadn’t done that, what would have happened?”

What would have… Ten- No, at least ten people would have been taken and… I don’t know what would have happened after that, but I know it can’t be good. Or I could have been caught like that and- Leaf would be gone- But Marshal would have… Or maybe they’d have avoided her because of her reputation-

They’d been waiting for me, they caught ten pokemon, ten people, and they weren’t going to stop at me.

I- No, yeah, they’re right, I- I did the right thing. I did the right thing, I can believe that. I saved people by doing it, that- that has to make it the correct thing to do, right?

Right?

…

“Nothing good,” I eventually say, and Marshal sighs. In relief, if the taste means anything.

“That’s why you did the right thing,” Marshal reiterates. “You need to stop thinking like a human.”

That- Yeah, yeah she’s right. I already know I’m not human anymore, but just… I don’t know if I can feel okay about hurting people like that. Even if it is the ‘right’ thing to do.

Even if that much fear was so delicious… Why?! Why does fear have to taste like that?! It's like… Goddammit, the only thing I can compare it to is terror.

I knew this was going to happen, I knew it, I just hadn’t cared at the time. I wanted to hurt them and I knew I’d be doing something like this afterward, but it just hadn’t mattered at the time.

There’s a groaning creak, then a loud crack and splintering as the rest of my house’s roof collapses, reminding me of the other thing I was freaking out about. …Actually, I'd prefer to think of that at the moment. God-fucking-dammit, I should have known getting that loud could destroy the building.

Okay, I did know, but I just decided it was acceptable at the time because serene and very angry is a bad combination. It didn’t mean I could control it, just that it was a very cold sort of anger.

…THIS ISN’T MAKING ME FEEL ANY BETTER!

Something pokes me and I lock on to the source, halfway through her sentence, “-If we don’t let them drift off like that right now, yeah?”

I’m going to ask what she means, really I am, but then I get the distinct feeling of something passing through me as-

Was- Was that the inside of Marshal’s hand?

“A bit hard for me to shake ‘em out of it,” Marshal dryly says, “Not without riskin’ worse.”

“I- I’m…” I can’t bring myself to say it, and neither of them would believe it anyway. Not saying it doesn’t stop both of them from giving me concerned looks.

What do I even do now? M- Maybe I could try rebuilding the place? But I still don’t know where to get anything I’d need, and now there’s so much more that I’d need to-

“-kay, I think I know what needs to happen,” Weaver pokes me again. “You’re coming with me, Smokey, and I’m not going to let you stress yourself away.” She waves her arm through the air, and I only realize I'm mostly invisible once she grabs one of my own arms, “And no, you don’t get to argue.”

Marshal hums thoughtfully. She's eyeing me but doesn't say anything. I'm more focused on my arm, to be honest. The feeling of Weaver holding on to me is a lot more grounding than I'd expected.

“That’s… probably a good idea,” I admit, doing my best to stop freaking out. I think it’s starting to work. Or maybe it's how confident Weaver seems, I don't know.

A flash and rushing sound pull my attention back to the north end of the area, where it looks like Onaga is messing with the pokeballs. There’s a new figure standing in front of her, a buneary. The fluffy rabbit sleepily glances around, spots Marshal and myself, then blinks and falls back to sleep.

Onaga has an interesting look on her face, somewhere between disbelief and disgust, as she snaps the pokeball in half before pulling another one from the bag. A roserade this time, who blinks owlishly at the woman before bowing and dancing away. Then a cricket-looking pokemon, like a smaller version of the one I saw in town.

He scrapes his small scythes against his chest, ‘My thanks,’ and departs. …How the hell did that mean something?

And the next pokemon is… an eevee who’s fast asleep. The next one is the same, both fox-dogs dead to the world. Then a large green spider. The arachnid stands dead still, then she rapidly scuttles up the closest tree, her unblinking eyes watching us.

Onaga’s expression has shifted to realization as she releases the next pokemon, Leaf appearing in a flash of light, his eyes darting around until they land on me. "Th- Thank you," He mumbles, slowly stepping backward. "I'm s- sorry about n- n- n…" And then he turns around, sprinting off.

Onaga squints after Leaf, then sighs and shakes her head, muttering under her breath. The next two both contain sleeping turtwig, one of whom shakes themselves awake a few seconds after being released. He doesn’t say anything, simply standing protectively over the other one.

The ranger pulls the last pokeball out of the bag, sighing before opening it. As the light and sound fade, I see a tri-colored cat squaring up, glaring at the world before spotting Marshal. “Oh! Hi mom!” He chirps, darting for the otter.

Onaga blinks at his behavior, then her eyes go wide as she puts herself between the two beaten humans and Marshal. "Marshal, they're already in my custody," The woman says, holding her arms up placatingly.

I glance at Marshal, who’s bent down to get closer to her apparent child… I blink. How? I mean, I get that she’s had kids before, but I was kind of assuming they were all buizel.

I taste a wave of what I can only call pure malice, and I refocus on Marshal's face. Her eyes are flat, staring at the two tied-up humans even as she's wiggling a finger for… Shinx? Yeah, that's the one. Even as her son starts zapping it, batting his paws at the digit.

“Shinx,” She says, making the cat pause his paws. “Tell me what happened.”

“Oh, okay! So, I'd been napping all day, and I was looking for something fun to do and was walking through the west groves since everyone there is so friendly, but everyone was already hiding, so I-”

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

Sweet sages and the tails they created, of course these two idiots had to catch one of her children, things obviously weren't going to be annoying enough tonight.

Marshal hasn't taken her eyes off of them, even as she keeps talking to Shinx. It's a look I recognize too, she's angry. And although she's respecting the fact that they are in my custody, I don’t know how long that’s going to last.

“Barry, how long till Emil gets those runners here?” I ask my radio.

There’s a small delay as Barry likely checks with Emil, then, “Two minutes, tops, why?”

“Because these two idiots caught one of Marshal’s kids,” I tell him. "She's currently only giving them a death glare, but I don't know how long she's going to wait when they're right in front of her."

There’s no immediate response, but I assume Barry is swearing up a storm right now. After some silence where I continue to watch Marshal and she continues to watch the poachers, Barry starts broadcasting again, "Right, Emil said he'll be there in thirty seconds, make sure there's a clear zone."

I glance to the east side of the clearing. There's a surplus of runway to brake on running through its center, so it's not a problem. I also see Weaver holding onto Misdreavus, looking thoughtful, while the ghost has a concerned expression on their face, looking at Marshal.

I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on there, and can only sigh. At least it should help with Espeon.

The sound of rapidly pounding feet, sounding almost like a stampede, signals Emil’s arrival, three dodrio braking hard as they enter the clear area, using most of the available space to come to a stop.

Emil glances at me, then at Marshal who slowly matches his gaze, moving her eyes off the poachers. She stares at him for a long moment before sighing, looking down at Shinx as the small feline yawns, continuing to talk to their mother.

She’s definitely going to kill the next person who puts so much as a toe over the line with her, after this.

Thought and fire, I hope that's not Rowan.

“Think she could do with some calming down?” Emil asks, swinging himself off his mount.

“That might be a good idea, yeah,” I reply, still watching the alpha. “I’ll ask her about it once these two are out of sight.”

“And on that note…” Emil says leadingly, making his way to the first man.

“Yeah, best not waste time,” I agree, moving to the other poacher.

We both easily lift the men into the transport saddles, clipping and locking them to the backs of the dodrio. It's a well-practiced skill that we're required to be able to do in under ten seconds, even while the detainee is struggling. Once they're secured, Emil swings himself back onto the remaining dodrio, patting the pokemon's heads in turn.

"We don't need to rush on the way back, so you three can take it easier than on the way here," He tells the three—nine, technically—pokemon as he waves them into motion. “I’ll make sure you all get something extra for the trouble.”

Two of his mount’s heads look thoughtful, while the third looks considerably more eager as they all trot off.

“Drio?”

“Dodri.”

“…”

My three-in-one mount converses with herselves before looking at me.

I nod, giving one a scratch on the neck as I respond to the implied question, “We’ll be headed back soon, I just need to ask the alpha something first.” That seems to placate them well enough, as they shake themselves and settle into the dirt instead of remaining standing, one head moving to groom another.

I walk over to Marshal, crouched down the way she is, I can even look her in the eyes without craning my neck. She gives me a tired look, then sighs as she points me to the now passed-out cub, running her fingers over the metallic gold bands around their legs. I can't dispute both how adorable and how helpless they- he looks.

“I’m not going to pretend I know how you feel right now,” I say, prompting a very small, but still noticeable, rueful smile out of her, “But I can offer to make it a bit better,” I finish, holding my RED up.

She glances at it, then waves me off, “Floatzel zelzel, floa,” She says, scooping Shinx up in one hand and very gently tickling his belly with the other. “Floatle?”

I have no idea what she’s asking, so I shrug, “Not sure what you mean. Shinx is fine, I think you have Misdreavus to thank for that, though.”

Marshal rolls her eyes, then sighs, nods, and starts moving off. As always, she’s surprisingly quiet and graceful for someone so large, when she wants to be.

Making my way back to Dodrio, I step into the saddle before they rise, gesturing them toward Weaver and Misdreavus. "You two ready?" I ask as Dodrio steps next to my long-time partner and likely future partner.

Misdreavus has the same nervous look I've seen on them a few times now, glancing between Weaver and me. For her part, Weaver is clearly trying to come across as reassuring, even wearing what I think is a genuine small smile. She climbs one-handedly up the saddle, sitting behind me instead of in front to keep holding Misdreavus.

“Weave!” Weaver chirps, pulling the ghost closer.

Taking that as her cue, Dodrio starts walking before quickly moving to a jog, then a full sprint as we start heading for the base.