Monday, 13th of February
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” His tone was even, his body still, and his presence tamped down as much as possible.
The yellow Pokemon darted away across the room anyway. They moved on all four limbs, sometimes using their tail for balance when their arms or legs weren’t strong enough. When they reached the wall halfway across the room, they stopped and curled up. The position let them hide behind that same tail.
Finn’s smile fell a little. It’d been three weeks since he’d received the young Pokemon, and the Abra was still nervous around him. After two full years of requesting one and far too many merits spent, it was a bit of a let-down. Especially given how every trainer his age had gotten their own two years ago, or last year at the latest, and were well past this stage. After all, what was one more slight for him to endure?
It still hurt, but he didn’t linger on his anger for long, making sure it was tucked away where his new Pokemon would not be able to sense it.
At least he isn’t teleporting away anymore. Finn thought with weary acceptance. Training an Abra took time, which he had made sure he had, and patience, which he had built over long years. Three weeks was also likely to be a quarter of the time needed for the basic training. Finn was prepared for the long haul.
He hadn’t spent two years waiting in vain, and all of his generation’s failures with their own Abra had been diligently recorded in a notebook of his. Starting with...
Finn slowly lifted his prize away from his body, where the Pokemon could sense it better. The berry was blue and green, divided down the middle by a flat yellow stalk. It was far out of his usual budget and only propriety had prevented a bidding war from breaking out in the market when another clan member noticed the prize — something that the elderly stall owner had been far too smug about.
His Pokemon’s diamond-shaped head rose from its crouch, tilting far back like it was looking up at the sky.
Finn knew better. It was doing that to raise its nostrils, located at the bottom of that elongated diamond into the air. It seemed his Abra was able to smell the berry before he could sense it – something to note for the future. The information may be important for training, or provide an advantage he could use later.
It was obvious when Abra confirmed the presence of the treat. Curiosity sprang away to be replaced by hunger, desire and cunning. Seconds later, Abra stilled to a halt, tensing his tail as he considered his options. The tail was the strongest limb in an Abra’s body. The vast majority of the Pokemon’s musculature was wrapped up within it, leaving their arms and legs spindly. On any other creature this would be a mistake, leaving them weak and vulnerable, but an Abra did not rely on its limbs to move. What they needed was a defense and enough power to buy them time to escape. That’s what their tail was for.
Abra was considering how he could use this tail to get the Apicot berry in Finn’s hand.
Now Finn did smile. He had chosen correctly. The chunk out of his savings had been worth it. This was the perfect way to celebrate three weeks as a team.
Inching closer to the Pokemon, he kept the berry held out before him. With each step, he kept up a steady murmur of comforting words and maintained an emission of the same emotions.
It was working. Abra began to move again, twitching his tail back and forth to prepare as it watched Finn with all its senses.
With each half step, he got closer and closer and...
Protectiveness. Fury. Fear. Acceptance. Determination.
Finn’s eyes went wide. This is a quiet room. What are they doing?
Confusion. Suspicion.
The emotions withdrew. It was too late. Finn didn’t have time to speak or emote before the room lit up with pink, and Abra retreated to the furthest corner from him. In his surprise and anger, Finn wasn’t able to hold his own emotions back, which made the problem worse. It didn’t help that some of those emotions were about the familiar signs of a teleport rather than the interruption.
Abra stilled again, overwhelmed and with nowhere to hide in the room.
“Sorry, sorry,” Finn said quickly, pulling everything back as fast as he could. Still, he knew everything was ruined. The delicious, expensive berry in his hand was replaced by a pokeball. “Try to sleep for a while, I’ll find out what’s going on, and then we’ll celebrate alright?”
Abra was too nervous to reply. He disappeared in a bright flash as Finn recalled him.
Now alone in the room, Finn held his breath for a second before cursing up a storm. Weeks. Weeks of effort down the drain. Abra was definitely going to be wary of him for a while now. He took out his fury on the air for a few seconds, before remembering that there was a better target for his anger.
Spurred by the emotions, he threw a hand at the door. It didn’t move an inch. Like everything else in this room, it had been made from resistant materials, and even if it hadn’t, it was a heavy object.
Too heavy for his weak telekinesis.
Anger growing, Finn shoved it open with his hands and stormed out. Sharp strides took him to the desk where the attendant sat.
“What the fuck was that! You can’t just...” Finn trailed off as he took in the attendant’s appearance.
The teen hadn’t even looked at Finn as he approached, too busy staring wide eyed and slack jawed at the wall off to the left. Her bright purple hair shook slightly as she quivered in fear that was so overwhelming Finn didn’t know how he’d missed it.
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She was a couple of years younger than him. Young enough that she might not have a Pokemon yet. She was probably working here trying to earn enough merits to ease her journey.
“Look. I didn’t mean to scare you, but you can’t just push your emotions out like that.” Which was weird, actually. How had someone this young managed to push past the quiet room’s resistances? There had been no recent gossip about any young prodigies. It shouldn’t have been possible without Pokemon support. “The quiet rooms - people could be in the middle of dangerous training!”
The attendant’s jaw began to shake. She had yet to look at Finn yet.
It was starting to freak him out.
“She... I... It’s just like before.”
Finn’s brow furrowed. “Wha...” Then he understood, and suddenly he was looking at the wall too, pushing himself out, searching. It was slow, careful, especially when he found the first of his clan members and sensed their state.
How could he have forgotten those emotions?
“How?“ He murmured. ”She’s in the gym today.” A gym on the other side of the city.
“F-f-feedback. The e-elders t-t-too.”
Finn stared past the wall, seeing all too much and feeling an old fear he’d thought long buried and dead. “Oh god.”
What had happened, and how much of his clan would survive it this time?
-.-
Finn sat down on the cold seating of the amphitheater with a thump. He was not happy to be here, and given everyone worth anything here could already feel that, there was no point hiding it.
The small protest was ignored of course. No one truly important was here. Today, it was the ‘dregs’ of the clan that had been gathered.
Down in the belly of the old stone amphitheater, a Voyant Elite waited for everyone to shuffle in. They did not wait patiently, broadcasting their ire to the wide area. It was exceptionally rude behavior. Here though, in the heart of clan territory, and far away from the creches, not one word would be spoken about it. Not that anyone would take an Elite to task over those gathered here today.
That Monday had changed a lot in the clan. Everyone had stepped carefully with the knowledge that they were a thought away from dire injury or worse. But now, over a month and a half later, tensions were starting to ease. Memory was short, especially for his extended family, which was ironic in the worst way.
For instance, the Elite was waiting in what was once a fighting ring. A ring that belonged to the other sovereign of Saffron. Finn wondered if the trainer knew that this was once where children learned how to fight while their teachers and masters watched over them from above. The comparison between his and the Elite’s position now amused him.
Once the stragglers arrived, the Elite began to speak. As expected, it was about the search. When first announced, everyone had been eager to find out what happened that Monday. Any kind of clue or oddity was eagerly discussed, especially with the merits up for grabs.
Finn had even been interested, until his enquiries were met by laughter from the Elites in charge. They needed ‘capable’ help, he was informed. The fact he was one of the best farseers of a generation was ignored because he couldn’t disappear in a burst of pink. He had ignored the search since, but it looked like that time was over.
Still, he smelled a Grimer.
A question from the stands proved he wasn’t alone.
“How are we to cover the other cities? I am not rated to travel that far.”
“Merits are being reallocated to provide teleportation.”
And Finn understood. He not so quietly fumed. They were cheating. Those merits had to come from somewhere, and he bet it was from the rewards of the searchers. The talented didn’t want to waste their training time with actual searching, but they also weren’t willing to give up on the influx of merits that had flowed out in the wake of the thirteenth. Instead, they got the ‘dregs’ to search, while all they needed to do was pop by and forth.
It was ridiculous, and so unfair it cut.
His bet was won minutes later when the numbers were listed. Not that he won a prize or could do anything about it. Finn ignored the rest of the Elite’s pompous speech from then on. It was only when people rose up that he started to pay attention.
When Finn reached the bottom of the amphitheater and met the scowling face of the Elite, he realized that perhaps his rebellious attitude had been noticed after all. When the Elite handed him his assignment, and he read the location with dread, he knew that it had.
-.-
“You remember the briefing?” Finn’s transport asked with a sneer.
“Yeah, yeah,” Finn answered in an even more dismissive tone. “David Smith. Scurry away would you?”
The embarrassment he felt in response to the comparison was sweet enough to make Finn forget where he was. For a second. No teleporter liked being compared to the skittish Abra. Then anger took over, and with a twist of pink, his transport was gone.
And Finn was left alone in the most dangerous place in Kanto for a Psychic.
Why would anyone from Pewter be here anyway?
White walls loomed ahead, tarnished by gray veins through the wood. Gray encroaching into the clean grain like a poison. Everywhere he looked, there was a reminder of where he was. All those colors, yet not a hint of purple.
He made it two blocks before people noticed who he was. What he was.
There were short bursts of fear as the news spread. Nothing that matched his own, and all died out to be replaced by-by... HATE. It was thick, it was cloying, it was everywhere. Hate of every kind. Loathing, disdain, abhorrence, spite. The emotion was so strong it stuck in his throat, tore at his muscles and sent his heart rate skyrocketing.
Hate was everywhere. It was in the stoic businessman, the tired mother, the elderly, the young. Even children barely up to his knee made an attempt, which while complex, unsteady and unfocused compared to their elders, held the power a child’s emotions always did.
Finn couldn’t breathe. It was so hot and there was no space. There was no escape. He began to stumble, muscles protesting the movement. The street blurred.
Then it appeared.
Exasperation. Compassion.
Nearby, but quieter. Annoyance. Affection.
In a soup of hate, they were a crouton of sanity. Finn could just about think clearly enough to direct his stumbling towards it. One of the sources disappeared, but the other was loud enough that it wasn’t an issue. A child? The emotions were oddly steady for one so young.
The emotions were closer, and Finn’s head was starting to clear.
Too close. Confusion.
Finn couldn’t stop.
Fear. Anger.
It was too much. Finn clutched for the crouton, but it was fading and the soup was pulling at him. Then it was gone, and with it the last of his thoughts beyond escape.
A burst of pink pushed it all away.
Finn couldn’t even gather himself to look at who teleported him until minutes later. His aunty hovered nearby, broadcasting a faint worry, but in jittery bursts. She was never really good with emotions.
“Thank you,” He croaked.
She must have seen some of this coming, and waited nearby the city in anticipation.
Her worry eased a little.
“I... I thought there was a deal with the rebels.”
His aunt hesitated before deciding to rip the Metapod off its tree. “No one can control a city. People often act however they want.”
Oh.
The next few weeks were going to suck.