I am having an amazing day. Genuinely, I needed this, just being able to do my job is a nice change this time of year.
“One report’s questionable, especially from a teen boy. Four, two from a teen couple, one from a kid, and one from Emelio about 'A bunch of panicked buizel' in the area is something else." my radio squawks.
“And you’re sure the kid and Em aren’t messing with us?” I ask Barry for what has to be the fourth time.
He even answers this time, "Pretty sure. The kid was scared, if she was faking it she's got a great career ahead of her, and Em didn't have that look.” comes the slightly staticky, entirely exasperated response. “Plus, you know, they all reported it in person.”
“Why is the old place even still there at all? It’s got to be ready to collapse and the kids out here wander all over the place. Karlos was one of those kids, It's that old!" I vent at the operator, just needing to say something about the building's situation, because it genuinely is old. A little over a century as far as city records can tell.
“Nobody’s bothered to pay for it yet,” comes the simple response. “And they might not be able to if it has a new resident. Also, stop complaining, this is a break from Spring prep and you know it."
“Yeah, I know. See if there‘s a ghost, figure out how long it’s been there, and if It’s hungry, angry, or just bored.” I had seen the report, the child said they heard shrieking. Not crying or howling. "Personally, my bet's on hungry," I say into my radio. There's still a good ten minutes until I reach the old summer retreat cabin.
"Probably, yeah. Just so you know Professor Rowan has already sent a request for observation if there really is a ghost." is his response, tone dry as the Haruba.
Makes sense. Most true ghost pokemon are only seen where there are large concentrations of negative emotions. The professor's probably hoping to see a ghost type without the massive human influence of said locations. And, not to put too fine a point on it, Sinnoh's Lost Tower just isn't as big as some other countries' mourning grounds.
And Sinnoh is the closest country to us, right across the mountains to the north.
I sigh, "And he won't be sending his own people, of course." There's no question there, anyone they would be likely to send would want to bring their pokemon—with pokeballs—and would make a huge deal out of the laws here. I continue my words, now in a mocking tone with a thick Johto accent, “I can’t hand their balls over to the rangers, I’ll keep them out while I’m here. I’ll be able to handle five trained pokemon by myself, sir. It'll be easy.”
His chuckling makes it clear that he’s also seen the recording I'm quoting. "Yeah, like that," He says once he's done laughing.
The laws in Almia are very clear on certain points regarding pokemon, wild or otherwise. Specifically, their rights. No pokeballs, no training of pokemon—asterisk—and a basic respect for decency, self-determination, and environmental protection. Not that trained pokemon complain all that much, it's closer to an extremely well-paid adventure than anything else for them. No, the laws around pokeballs here were made to prevent things like shoving them in a pokeball as a punishment, or locking their ball and throwing it away. Those about training are more about the sport of it, the betting, and the lack of respect treating them as fighters can lead to, and the big one, to prevent treating them like weapons.
Anyway, no one gets in trouble if Bob, Phil, and their companions decide to have a friendly match once in a while.
Unless said match gets out of hand and we get called about it. Again. But that’s usually more for damages than anything else.
“Who even showed you that?” Barry asks.
"The port officer, what was his name… Richter? He showed me last Autumn when we were dealing with the massive pelipper migration." There's silence for a bit as I continue walking, then a thought hits me, "Hey, do you know if that guy ever got through customs?" I ask.
"Yeah, you remember that forest fire south of Pueltown? He was training his quilava in the woods." Barry answers, and I can hear the edge of a laugh in his voice, “He got tracked down by one of the big-shots, poor guy got a very hard and swift education about rangers before being sent home.”
I wince at that. There’s a reason it takes so long to become a ranger, and why they’re so selective to begin with. That thought makes me look behind myself to my partner, Sneasel. I hadn’t even graduated when we met, and she helped me push through. She looks back for a moment, then grins wide.
Oh no, she usually doesn’t look like that unless… I smack the side of my face full force into a small tree and tumble landing face up, staring at her.
“got distracted by Sneasel again?” I hear from my left side.
“Kind of,” I reply, getting to my feet and picking up the radio. “I was thinking back to school.”
Sneasel snickers to herself, but walks up and hugs me to take the edge off, I feel better instantly.
"Ah, good times," says Barry over the radio.
"Maybe for you, I was on the ranger track," I grumble back, resuming my hike.
"Uh-huh, and you were lucky for it." He replies indignantly. "All I had to study were technical skills and boring law, you got to do all the fun courses.” I know he’s just teasing me, this is very familiar conversational ground.
“I also had to study a lot more than you, remember?” I reply evenly. I can see the cabin now.
And it's true, a ranger requires knowledge of pokemon habitats, biology, and psychology on par with most budding professors. Though with significantly more emphasis on practical application.
And a lot of physical conditioning.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re at the place, go do your thing miss hero.” he mocks before the speaker goes silent.
"If I have to calm them down you're buying me pizza, the good stuff from Paoulo's," I growl into the dead line.
Which is a real concern. Ghosts share some things in common with both psychic and dark-types, in that they interact with thought and emotions on a more real level, even making R.E.D’s sometimes have strange effects.
I was still at the ranger academy when some Kanto professor proved that the now former mystic type was, in fact, three distinct types. Consequently, they’re also considered the least understood types of pokemon, and those pokemon make for the easiest or the hardest jobs with no in-between.
Their powers just aren’t understood well enough yet, though we are starting to get a handle on it. Psychics building invisible mazes or altering someone's perception of an event, dark-types blending into the world around themselves without effort and seeming to grow stronger with pain, rage, fear, and so on—I’ve personally seen Sneasel meltdown, it’s quite the sight. And there are, of course, far too many urban legends and myths about ghosts to even begin going through, and most seem to have no basis in reality given how rare ghost-types truly are.
Now, while we don’t know much for certain about ghost-types, and even less about so-called ‘true ghost-types,’ what we know about the ‘true ghosts’ is that they eat emotions. Usually just the extremes, or maybe excess would be the better word. But, they can eat actively and that’s typically bad for whoever they’re feeding on. Luckily for anyone who happens to run into a ghost-type, the only times they seem to do this is either when they’re really starving or very, very angry.
I wait a moment longer and when there’s still no response from Barry I swap my radio from operator to idle. Sighing, I march up to the front door and look at Sneasel.
She’s focused now, looking around the front of the building before stepping inside. She does a little spin in place, sniffs the air, then nods at me.
Ghost confirmed. She makes my job so much easier.
“Are they here right now?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “Would they be getting enough to eat here?” A raised eyebrow, then a shrug. Fair enough. “You think they’ve been angry?” I ask.
"Snee~," she says, equivocating with one hand before she starts looking around. She puts on a serious expression, places one hand on her hip, and brings the other up to her chin. Then she walks to the back, through the door, and out of sight. A moment later, she returns, still in that same pose with the same look on her face, then she shrugs.
“Think we should wait?” I ask my partner. She shrugs again, my choice then. “If they're not angry it should be fine, and you should be able to get us out if things go bad," I say as I sit cross-legged on the floor and pull out the ultimate stakeout boredom killer, my pack of cards. Making Sneasel clap excitedly.
***
Sometime later, our fun is interrupted.
"Ranger Surn to Ranger Ryuko, Confirm?" squawks my radio. Sounding tense and forgetting to use my family name, so it's probably bad.
"Confirmed," I say to my radio.
"At least three combee hives are swarming just south of the Loel Cliffs, I've counted eight vespiquen so far." her voice is flat, probably forcing herself to stay calm. I start a bit and feel Sneasel tense up next to me.
The east end of the Leol Cliffs is about two meters away from me right now.
That’s bad, really bad. But I need to conform to ranger-to-ranger radio standards. Straightening myself I respond. "Acknowledged. Do you need backup?"
It takes a full minute before she responds and the silence starts to feel heavier the longer it stretches. Then, actually calm now, “Negative, the situation appears to be multiple queen ascensions rather than hive combat. Advise avoiding the area for at least four days.”
Now relaxing a bit I give the standard sign-off. “Acknowledged. Confirm?”
“Confirmed.” and my radio goes silent again.
“Snea, sneas?” comes a worried voice to my right.
Giving her a scratch behind the ears, I say as reassuringly as I can, "It'll be fine, there's no reason to get involved with them right now." She preens a bit, then looks morosely at our former house of cards. "Sorry about that. It's hard not to be shocked by that kind of news." She bobbles her head a bit before looking out the sliding door. it’s getting darker out there.
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I didn’t bring supplies for an overnight. And though we could do one if needed, we probably shouldn’t.
I stand and stretch before speaking into my radio, “Barry, it’s getting late and we don’t have supplies for overnight. I’m requesting permission to return to base for now.”
The radio remains silent for about half a minute before I get a response. “Permission granted, come on back.”
Okay, now to check on Marshal before then. Strictly speaking… I shouldn’t, but it’s not even a secret that every ranger has friends they visit while out on the job. The operators will mark the time, and they might even triangulate my location, but they all know already.
Because every ranger does it.
Not with Marshal specifically, I’m the only one at the Vien Forest west base who visits her, but with their own friends, there’s a leafeon around here that Maya visits whenever she gets the chance, and I know the shinx Karlos took home to his family recently was one of the alpha luxray’s, though I’d bet the fuzzy softie practically had to force Karlos to take him.
But the river alpha has a strong personality, and she doesn't mesh well with my co-workers or their partners.
I think she’s fun.
I look at Sneasel and see her grin, she knows where we're going now. I can't help my own smile either, it's been almost three weeks since we've been out this way and Marshal's going to be happy to see us, too.
Leaving the cabin and turning west, we start heading for the almost invisible path between the cabin and the lake. As we approach, however, something becomes extremely obvious about the path: It's been trampled down as if something big was using it recently.
Now looking for tracks, it becomes clear exactly who's been walking it. Huge floatzel tracks run in both directions on the trail.
One of the reports was about panicked buizel.
Sighing, I mentally put myself back on the job, unhook my radio, switch its mode, and start speaking, "Update on the quest Barry, Marshal's been coming and going from the cabin, looks like about three or four times."
“The panicked buizels.” He states, putting it together as fast as I did. “It makes sense, that old building is right next to her main territory. Think she scared the ghost off then?”
That’s not an unreasonable assumption. If she thought the other pokemon was threatening her pup or her territory she would chase them off, after all, there aren’t many that can stand up to an alpha. Not that many would try in any case, alphas being a major source of stability for any area.
“Maybe. Can’t assume anything with her.” I say. The line goes dead again, so I stretch and begin the short hike towards the eponymous Lake Marshal, Sneasel practically bouncing along behind me while my thoughts drift now to my other friend.
The giant is rather famous, and keeping idiotic trainers away from her for their own good is how we met. Most people are smart enough to leave an almost three-meter, five-hundred-kilo, wild pokemon alone. Really, who in their right mind thinks sneaking a pokeball into Almia is a good idea in the the first place? Even if it could contain an alpha, no alpha is going to obey a trainer.
And it was so strange seeing pictures of Marshal as a buizel after that, and not just her going from a normal, unassuming, extra adorable buizel to the force of nature she is now.
It's that the backgrounds of all the photos show how bad it was back then before the Rangers were established.
I don’t think most people even think about the time before the Ranger Union, or more likely, the League, anymore.
Enough of that kind of thinking, it’s history for a reason. Back to the quest at hand, tease Marshal about how cute she was once I’m done working.
It isn’t a long walk, maybe five minutes at a brisk hike and I can see the lake through the trees.
Sneasel, of course, doesn't bother waiting for me and leaps onto one of the last ice sheets left, and it visibly expands when she does. There's a moment of stillness, then right on cue the small iceberg she's made is launched a good ten meters up. Sneasel remains undaunted, however, and I can hear her chittering laughter as she starts to come back down, landing in the lake.
I have something else to focus on now though, as the culprit of Sneasel’s aerial adventure lands in front of me, cracking the earth and shaking the trees around us.
It's Marshal, of course, hands on hips and giving me a fake suspicious glare as she begins to stomp towards me.
“Hey Marsh, I nee-” Is all I get out before the giant of a pokemon is giving me a massive hug. “Yeah I-” And then she starts nuzzling my face for good measure, definitely not purposefully interrupting me again. “Look-” She starts licking me and that just has me laughing now. “Okay, I get it! Let go!” I manage to gasp out once she lets me push her face away. When she does finally let me go I straighten up and put on my work face and see her expression fall a bit. “I’m sorry about this Marshal, we’ll be able to hang out soon, but I’m on the job right now. That cabin just east of here, the one you’ve been visiting, I know there was a ghost-pokemon in there and I need to know what you did with them.”
Marshal blinks at me for a moment, then turns and points south to where her garden entrance is.
Following her webbed finger, I see a pokemon I’m going to tentatively Identify as a misdreavus staring back at me.
They’re… not that large, maybe twenty-five or thirty centimeters in height, so smaller than other sightings. They're eyes glow, brighter than I've read about, and without pushing through the miasmic fog all true ghost-types seem to possess, so they can’t be too young since they're holding it back. The colors are off from the few photos we have of misdreavus so far, more blue than the green or gray of the photos. And the texture I can see moving under their paper-thin skin like liquid fire is just… Pictures just can’t do that justice.
But of course, she adopted them, what else would she have done? Acted in a predictable manner? Not the Marsh I know. No sir.
"Give me just a minute," I say to the lady-of-all-things-wet as I raise my radio. Before I can start reporting, however, a voice comes through.
“Just letting you know Onaga, my shift’s ending soon. Francois's catching up on coms right now," says Barry. Well, he can deal with a bit more before that.
“I’ve got eyes on the ghost, Barry. Misdreavus, brighter coloration, no miasma, assuming one to two months in age given their size, control, and recency.” When I stop speaking Marshal starts chuckling at me. "What?" I ask. "Was I wrong about anything?" At that, she raises her hands and holds up five fingers. "Five Months?" That's unlikely but not impossible, we could have missed the ghost if they were keeping to themselves. But she shakes her head. Um, “Five days?” She nods.
I look back to the misdreavus, they've drifted a bit closer now, eyes moving between Marshal and myself. The control of miasma isn't something that's been observed in true ghosts until a month at least, and the size may just be because we've never seen a misdreavus this young before. Professor Rowan is going to push harder once he hears about it now, and Marshal has evidently taken a liking to the ghost… Well, whoever he sends will just have to learn fast.
“Misser…” says a voice that makes my bones itch. The voice sounds far away and resonant, it's creepy, and it sounds like my oma’s old ghost stories, the ones that always ended with Opa saving her.
I glance at the source and it is the misdreavus, now only around two meters from me, slightly behind Marshal. So I glare at the floatzel’s smirking face instead, “Are you taking care of them?” The big pokemon thinks about it for a moment before shrugging at me, so probably not mothering them at least. “You know something about them though, don’t you.” I accuse.
That makes her lean down, and now smiling mischievously say, “Tze’ ell~” Even I can tell that’s an ‘Of course, dummy.’
Sighing, I decide to just ask the most important question, and then Sneasel and I will be able to just relax with her for a bit. If I can call the quest complete, of course. "Are they disrupting anything anymore? Any problems we need to address soon?" That makes Marshal think for a few seconds before she shakes her massive head. Thank her tales, we can just hang out with Marshal now. One last call to base. “Barry, are you still on or am I talking to Francois now?”
“We’re both here.” I hear Francois say. “Changing over in two minutes.”
Barry’s still the active operator then. “Okay Barry, Marshal doesn’t anticipate any more problems right now and the misdreavus seems calm at the moment. Requesting permission to return to base.”
His response is immediate, "Permission granted, don't be out too much longer okay?" He's right, it's getting darker quickly now, and going overnight in the woods without supplies is never pleasant, for me at least. But Marshal will give us a ride close to base if I ask, so I'll be fine. Though Sneasel would love it if we stayed.
And thinking of the little shadow-spawn, I look past The wall of muscle in front of me to see what she's managed in the short few minutes I was doing actual work.
Well, that's just adorable. She's made an ice slide, and both she and Marshal’s pup are taking turns flying into the lake with it.
Sneasel’s gotten a lot stronger recently, and I’ve noticed her sharpening her claws more, so she’ll probably be evolving soon. That thought has me groaning, I’ll need to re-register her, and since she’ll be an evolved adult I’ll also need to start filing monthly safety and care reports.
Although… I’ll probably be able to convince her to apply for citizenship, a bit less paperwork for me, and she is aware of the luxuries that come with the taxes after all. And Sneasel would immediately have a paying job with the rangers as my partner as well… Hmm, I’ll have to talk to her about it when I can find the time for it, my next off cycle probably. Or maybe ton-
Marshal’s giving me a funny look now, I just shake my head to clear it before I let myself smile. “Enough thinking about work, time to relax.” I declare while walking closer to the lake. Then I stop to look for the misdreavus one more time. They’re gone, vanished without a trace. Not surprising for a ghost really, they could be right next to any of us and the only one who could tell would be Sneasel.
Oh well, guess I should-
Marshal's picking me up. "Oh no.” I manage, before she tosses me at the lake.
I don’t give her the satisfaction of a scream as I splash into the almost freezing-cold water, it's not like her throwing me in was completely unexpected, and I was coming in anyway. I do glare at her as she cuts through the water to get to me though.
Once she reaches me I start climbing onto her, “You couldn’t wait for me to take my heavier clothes off first?” Her response is a roll of the eyes. She knows I enjoyed that, the observant boat.
As I make myself comfortable, Marshal starts moving us towards the river mouth into the lake, already knowing I need to be closer to civilization soon. I hadn’t even asked her about it.
I wave goodbye to Sneasel, knowing I’ll see her tonight once she makes her own way back, and she waves to me, smiling like a kid at Winterveil.
"Sorry I can't stay longer, I'll have some 'free' time in a few days to come visit, it's just that we're understaffed this year and all the rangers in the forest have been busy preparing for spring migrations, and tourists.” I can’t help but practically spit that last word, and Marshal's face scrunches up as well.
Tourism is, frankly, a good thing for Almia as a whole, even if all the rangers and alphas hate it. It does bring in a lot of money after all. As one of the few countries that’s still mostly undeveloped land people flock here to see it in the Spring since most of Almia is technically a nature reserve. Technically. But all those people who’ve never set foot in truly wild places—which is anyone not a dedicated trainer—tend to assume all pokemon are the more docile kind you see nearer to civilization. That’s not the vast majority of Almia or even Sienna as a whole. Most places in this province have only ever been seen by the pokemon who live there, with good reason. Even if the pokemon closer to the cities are used to us, those in the far reaches may never have even seen a human before.
The next two months are always awful.
Crossing my arms on Marshal’s head, I sigh, “But I don’t want to talk about work, How have you been since I last saw you?”
“Tzelltzel!” She says, smiling brightly.
I’ve heard of people who can understand what pokemon say, old myths, legends about great heroes, even some modern anecdotes from trainers who’ve spent their whole lives with them, and of course, my oma. I can’t help but envy them because I've never been all that great at it. Mood and intent? I could read those in my sleep because if I couldn't I would not have been allowed to stay on the ranger track. But understanding meaning is something all rangers dream of.
“How’s Buizel? Besides getting scared by that misdreavus I mean. He looks healthy, he’s got to be mostly grown by now.”
My noble steed sighs into the water as she begins to pick up speed now that we’re in the main river, tails spinning faster and faster. “Floatle, zel… float," she says, sounding melancholic.
“He has grown up fast, hasn’t he. At least you have another one already," I joke. And she snorts at that. “But, you know, Buizel’s still not as cute as you were!~” I tease, adding as much sweetness to my voice as I can stand while I rub one of her massive ears. That starts her grumbling, then she dives for a moment, soaking me through again and making us both laugh once she resurfaces. “Yeah, I deserved that. I still maintain you were adorable as a buizel, though.” I see her roll her eyes at that, but her smile’s grown as well.
“How are you and Luxray doing?” I ask, only mildly teasing this time. Her response is a hum and a rolling of her shoulders, she doesn’t seem agitated though, so they’re probably getting along right now. “Buizel is one of his right?” I ask, I genuinely can't remember. She nods and hums into the water again, sounding more like an engine than a floatzel for a moment.
Then she moves a hand and splashes me with an expectant look. After I clear the water from my eyes I start trying to puzzle out her meaning. “You want… guy-talk?’” I ask her. It fits the context, at least. She gives me a shrug. I sigh, “Yeah, no. I’ve got nothing for you, sorry. I'm not looking, and most people are too intimidated to try for me." I can’t help a chuckle, “I grow a spine, get out of Kanto, get into shape, and it turns out I don’t care.”
My mount nods while eying me more intensely than usual, but otherwise seems content to let me decide what comes next. That’s fine, I know what will make her happy to hear me talk about. “So with it being spring again, some of the berry and flower shops around Vientown might have some new varieties I could bring you." That does perk her up a bit, so I continue to make small talk at her and she continues to smile as we make our way closer, North of the forest’s base.