As he activated the time-achor and travelled to his time, Turo still couldn't quite believe that he had decided to just... Tell her everything.
Or as close to everything as he could, breaking pretty much two of the most important rules about time travelling. But the more Turo thought about them, the less sense they made in his case. Those rules had been thought of by thinking about travelling to... Important historical events. Relatively recent times. Or meeting famous people of the past. She was... Just one girl in one century in a time period where a single century wasn't even considered important, because events took place on such a larger scale that it just... Lost any meaning. He had panicked when he had seen that she had taught writing to other people of her tribe, but... Really... What difference was it going to do?
A couple of generations and it was probably going to end up a lost art anyway. Ready to be discovered and invented again. And even if it didn't, it's not like they would suddenly teach the whole human population how to write centuries in advance. Because it hadn't happened, or they would have found traces of it.
These things took time. A lot of time.
Telling her everything had been... liberating, in a sense, but he honestly hadn't really expected her to believe him... or understand what he meant, actually. He had tried best as he could to describe the unfathomable amount of time that separated them, and by her reaction, she seemed to have understood that it was "a lot", but... how could he even start to explain how much their lives were different? Could he even do it? They were separated by pretty much all of human civilization, all of human history.
He stepped out of the time machine, the Master Ball with Winged King inside sitting heavy in his pocket. He really wasn't used to having Poké Balls with him. Miraidon had one only because it was necessary to register him as his owner, but he could count the occasions that he had actually gone inside it on one hand. He let out a little sigh of relief while he waited for Porygon 568 to do its usual scan; that moment when Sada had approached him just as he had been on the verge of travelling back... that had been scary. If she had actually touched him, got dragged back with him... she wouldn't have survived the trip. Or... he wasn't even sure if it would have worked. When they travelled in groups at the TTDL, everyone had their own time-anchor.
« Time anchor ID 9537 has returned-» he gave a bried nod at the Pokémon while it recited the coordinates and scanned him up and down. Just like he was expecting, it stopped after a moment.
« Time-displaced Pokémon detected. Species unknown. Contacting Uvanja Academy's science department for permission to safely deposit specimen for further study.» it said, eyes flashing yellow as it floated in midair. For a second, Turo wondered what Porygon thought of them bringing Pokémon back here from other times. Did he see it as normal, or did he disapprove? Did he even consider himself a Pokémon, or something else entirely?
« The Pokémon's injured. Studying it can wait, we need to treat it first.» he interrupted the Pokémon, who reacted swiftly, fluttering it's wings.
« ... contacting Uvanja Academy's Nurse office instead. Please head there immediately.»
Yes, that would be ideal. He still felt a bit uneasy as he exited the time machine room and walked through the corridor and to the elevator. The decision to bring Winged King back with him had been a spur of the moment one; Sada's people had barely started having peaceful contact with Pokémon, they had no way to help the Pokémon heal. In his time, it would have been trivial. The problem was... he had been asked to bring back some specimens from the Paleolithic era, and he had the feeling that the Cyclizar-ancestor would cause quite some excitement, but... he couldn't simply give them this Pokémon in particular. It couldn't stay in the present; he had to make sure to get it back to it's time.
But first, it had to actually heal. It didn't look like a mortal injury, but he admittedly had no idea what to look for to know how serious it was; especially with Pokémon that looked so... how to put it... "organic". He stepped into the teleporter and a moment later had been transported in the entrance hall of one of the oldest Pokémon Academies in the world; he headed directly for the infirmary, pointedly ignoring the stares he received from a couple of people.
The TTDL often collaborated with the Academy, so people were relatively used to seeing time-travellers walzing in immediately after a time-jump wearing the weirdest things, but "late Ice Age clothes in authenthic Mamoswine fur" was probably still strange enough to make a few heads turn. Not exactly something you saw everyday. One nurse ran up to him as soon as he had stepped inside the infirmary, and Turo recognized him as the same nurse that had checked on Porygon after his "glitch" with the time machine some time ago.
« We have a room ready... what Pokémon is it?»
« ... ancient form of Miraidon.» he answered after a moment, and could practically see the man get excited.
« Dragon type then?»
« Probably...? It's not like I could check.» he grumbled. What difference did it even make for treating it?
« How do these... things work, usually? Bringing Pokémon from other times, I mean.» he asked cautiously after a moment. They weren't going to start poking and prodding it immediately, weren't they?
« Well, the poor things can't simply absorb Hadron energy like modern Pokémon do to heal, so we have to treat them... the old fashioned way. Do you know what injured-» the nurse trailed off as Turo simply stared, eyebrows furrowed and mildly offended. Of course he didn't, or it would have been the first thing he would have mentioned.
« All right, release it from the Ball inside here.»
Not exactly convinced, Turo glanced around the infirmary room they had just entered. There wasn't much in terms of furniture. Bulky machinery and monitors were a thing of the past, the various sensors now built into the very structure of the room, carefully monitoring the physical condition of anything that entered it.
There was a Pokemon sized bed, a cabinet to the side, and a couple of chairs that were mostly to the benefit of humans than Pokemon.
He couldn't help but feel that this wasn't going to go as smoothly as everyone seemed to think: this wasn't just... A Zigzagoon or whatever brought back from the 21th century. This was a Pokémon from a time period where they saw no problem in considering humans not only food, but also quite low on the food chain.
He cautiously stepped towards the door, then released the injured dragon from the Master Ball. It was immediately clear as soon as the ancient Miraidon appeared that the bed absolutely wasn't big enough. Modern Pokemon tended to be... Small and somewhat compact, either because it required less energy and was simply more efficient, or because they had started as Artificial Pokemon and had been literally designed that way, especially in the context of having to eventually fit and being able to move in urban environments or even more cramped spaces like the Moon base and future extraterrestrial colonies.
Winged king was... Not. The lizard's pupils shrank as it took in the unfamiliar surroundings, a low hissing noise reverberating out of its throat as its eyes darted left and right. It flicked its long tail, hissing some more as it involuntarily hit and smashed the cabinet to the side.
« ... Ah.» the nurse said.
The Pokemon didn't seem to know what to focus on first, not knowing what was or wasn't a threat, and it shrank back towards the nearest wall, dragging the injured leg on the pristine floor. It looked at the two humans, and its eyes finally focused on Turo; probably because his clothes were the only vaguely familiar looking thing in the entire room. Turo tried to remember some of the commands and words that Sada had used, to no avail. He had seen the Pokemon only two times, and had been kinda distracted (and terrified) to pay much attention the first.
« Calm down... We want to help...» he tried to use a reassuring tone, but didn't exactly dare move forward. Winged King roared and stood up to his full height, a wave of heat suddenly hitting them both as it fanned out the big feathers on its back. Then its eyes finally landed on the ceiling, and Turo realized an immediate problem as he did the same and saw the usual projected view in real time of the sky outside. Winged King jumped, unfurling the two antennae on the top of its head. They proved almost too big for the room -forcing the two humans to scramble backwards-, the Pokemon barely managing to flap them loudly a couple of times to take off before crashing full force into the ceiling. It fell back on the floor with a confused cry and hurried back up on all fours, now fully panicking as it looked desperately for an exit. It looked moments away to blindly attacking one of them.
Turo gritted his teeth: this was doing exactly as he had feared.
« Not good, it's too agitated... We'll have to knock it out by force.» the nurse commented, and he had to kind of admire the man since he looked definitely surprised (and sweating profusely because of the sudden heat that the Pokemon seemed to emanate) but still kept relatively calm all things considered.
« Knock it out? You can't hurt it even more!» he argued.
« I'm just putting it to sleep.» the man answered back, taking out a Poke ball of his own from his belt.
A small, round Pokemon that Turo recognized after a moment as a Snowhoot - an Artificial Pokemon version of Hoothoot, one of the first to successfully integrate completely into becoming their own species - appeared on his shoulder, standing on one leg, the other tucked in inside its body-literally, by folding it in with a slight hiss of pneumatics, the switch like its ancestor too fast to see with the naked eye. The owl Pokemon blinked its rectangular, digital clock display eyes, numbers flashing briefly in place of its pupils as it calculated the current time down to the microsecond. Compared to its ancient counterpart, it was completely white with streaks of ice blue in his eyes, around the belly and on his claws.
The white color hadn't been planned at all, neither was them losing the Flying type and becoming part Ice types instead... everything that had happened with that Pokémon had actually become a bit of an interesting case study for Artificial Pokémon Programming, one that he had always found pretty fascinating... but that definitely wasn't the moment to think about it, with a growling prehistoric Pokémon not even two meters from him who looked increasingly ready to lash out.
« Hypnosis.»
The Snowhoot let out a warbling cry, rotating its head left and right by 90 degrees with a slight whirr as it stared at the dragon Pokémon in front of them. The pixellated eyes seemed to switch off completely, leaving only two completely black rectangles. It gave the impression of his eyes disappearing, or having no pupils... something that Turo was vaguely aware people had considered creepy in the past, for... reasons he actually wasn't exactly sure about. It probably looked unnatural? When you saw literally every Pokémon do it when they were taking a nap on your couch, it probably lost some of its creepy effect.
The tell-tale blue glow of psychic powers surrounded the Snowhoot a moment later, and Winged King started to sway on its legs before crashing asleep on the bed sideways - completely flattening it in the process-.
There was a moment of silence as the Atomic Clock Pokémon let out a little satisfied "hoot", both men looking at the giant lizard splayed on the floor.
« You know...» Turo began, just now realizing something that made him breath a sigh of relief. «... I only assumed he was Dragon type. If it had been part Dark type..»
The nurse stared at him blankly, raising one hand to caress the little bird on his shoulder.
« She also knows Sing just in case. Hypnosis is just faster, it works as soon as you make eye contact.»
Turo couldn't help being a little impressed. He went back to staring at Winged King and the room. There were visible cracks in the ceiling where the Pokémon had smashed into it full force - thankfully not breaking through -, some of the sensors built in the panels probably destroyed.
The content of the cabinet that had been smashed aside had spilled on the floor - stuff like gauze that would always be useful to bandage open wounds, portable Hadron energy batteries for giving a Pokémon a quick burst of energy back, the latter in this case completely useless. White and blue feathers had flown everywhere; there was even a bit of blood on the floor, which he couldn't help but stare at. Now this did make him umcomfortable.
He... wasn't used to seeing Pokémon bleed. Those that could, at least.
The VR games that featured extinct Pokémon he had played when younger didn't exactly show it - because no one wanted to see Pokémon fight and hurt each other so much that they actually started bleeding, and modern Pokémon... they did have blood of course, in the sense of having "something that transports nutrients to all parts of the body", but it was more like... energy coursing through them. Pulsing in time with their heartbeats, surging higher or lower, like Miraidon's electricity did everytime the dragon curled around him and they went to sleep.
Modern Pokémon blood wasn't... liquid and so red like that of a human and sticky, and it definitely didn't smell like iron.
He forcibly moved his eyes away from the specks of blood on the floor, focusing back on the nurse.
« ... now what?»
--
Winged King was kept carefully asleep by the little owl Pokémon keeping watch over it; in the meantime, they had arranged a bigger bed by setting down a couple of mattressess on the floor and covering them in blankets, while trying to work out how to best treat its injury. The simulated sky had been sagely switched off, leaving nothing but the empty, bare ceiling covered in cracks.
Everyone seemed eager to examine the Pokémon; a first preliminary scan had shown that it was part Dragon, part Fighting type. The second one had been a surprise.
« Fighting type? » Turo repeated, summoning a screen to his side to start a recording. « ... not Fire type? With all that heat he was producing-»
« I know, it's incredible, isn't it? It must be a way to shed excess body heat, or to strenghten its muscles as it prepares to fight, and the heat is just the side effect... But to radiate so much of it, it must have an incredibly active and powerful metabolism! » the nurse commented, blissfully unaware to what he had just said as Turo just stared at him.
Powerful... metabolism... Turo suddenly remembered Sada excitedly telling him about how much food the Pokémon ate.
He found himself repressing a shiver.
... why did he just have an ominous feeling about this?
---
In the end, they had sent him away; not before Turo made them swear to not do anything weird to the creature in the name of "research", and insisted on leaving a monitored video connection to the room open at all times to keep track of it.
He was sure that nobody was going to do much more than run tests and deeper scans (and squeeing. Lots and lots of excited squeeing by what he had seen) on the Pokémon and they wouldn't risk harming a single scale on it considering that it was literally a one-of-a-kind in this era, but he felt weirdly responsible for the Pokémon since Sada wasn't here; he had promised her to help the creature, and he wanted to make sure to keep that promise.
Which... kinda implied... having to find a way to actually get it out of there once healed and back through the time machine with him. Fortunately in all the initial confusion and excitement nobody had thought to ask him for the Master Ball he had used to capture it.
But it had to actually heal first, and that would take a bit.
And he couldn't exactly go back to Sada empty-handed, which is why he hadn't even scheduled his next jump yet. For the first time in quite a while, Turo finds himself having to kind of... waste time with nothing to do other than look at his research notes and help his colleagues.
He's not good at it.
« So, mmm...» he thinks out loud while staring at the ceiling of the sanity room in the TTDL. Today it looked like one of those old-timey saloons you would have found in Unima or Orre back in the day, complete with spunky piano music and the sound of slamming rotating doors everytime someone walked in or out. The one responsible for those settings had become pretty obvious when he had walked in that morning for a coffe and found Ortega in full gunslinger attire, complete with cowboy hat and boots.
"Just felt like it, it's not like there's any occasion to wear them otherwise"
Turo had stopped being surprised at his senior's antics a long time ago... especially now that he had some ideas as to why he acted like that.
« ... what's the weirdest place you two had to ever time jump back from?» he finally asked, lowering his gaze back to the two in the room with him, Ortega -boots on the table and busy swinging his chair back and forth, cowboy hat obscuring his face-, and Vega, who had been growing increasingly desperate in her quest for the legendary beast trio ("They just run around so much, you would think that being able to literally teleport in the exact spot and moment they supposedly should appear should make it easy but nooo") and has filled an entire wall of the saloon with a giant monitor. The iper technological map of Johto and Kanto full of little pins and lines she's been drawing to map their movements does break the immersive atmosphere quite a bit.
« Oh that's easy.» Vega answered, stopping her back and forth walking to look back at the two sitting at the table. « Jail.»
«... Jail.» Turo repeated, voice completely flat. He's grown used to conversation between the three of them swerving into the wildest directions by now, but that still took him a bit by surprise.
« Yep. Got caught trying to sneak into the Tin Tower and the monks didn't like that. I must have left a couple of very confused police men when they went back to check on me and found an empty cell, I guess...»
Turo shook his head imagining the scene, while the redhead went back to staring at the map.
« Maybe I should also look for Celebi and the other Johto legends while I'm at it, can't hurt... it's not like I couldn't navigate 21th century Johto with my eyes closed by now...» she muttered.
« What about you?» he asked Ortega, who stopped rocking the chair back and fort and lifted the brim of his hat with a grin.
« Oh I'm sure I'm winning this one.»
« Yeah? Let's hear it » Vega didn't even turn around, but Turo could just picture her rolling her eyes.
Ortega cleared his throat dramatically.
« I jumped back by launching myself off a cliff and pretending to fall dramatically to my death. Activated it right in midair.»
Two identical sighs escape Vega and Turo at the same time, the first because she doesn't believe him, and the second because he knows that is exactly the kind of crazy stunt that Ortega would pull just to see what happened. And look cool.
Mostly to look cool, probably.
Sometimes he wondered how the man wasn't dead yet.
« Now that has to be bul-»
« Don't believe me, ask Porygon. By the way, did you know that momentum is conserved while time-jumping? Found that out the hard way when I came back here and got launched straight into him. The little guy didn't like it.»
« But... why?» Turo simply asked.
« Why not? And I had to make a hasty retreat anyway-» Ortega evaded the question, like he often did, with a lazy wave of his hand.
« My turn now. Weirdest thing you've eaten on a time jump.» he added, going back to rocking his chair back and forth.
« A weird chewy pink thing by some sketchy dude, still in Johto-» Vega muttered.
Oh, that answer was easy.
«... Mamoswine meat.» Turo nodded, and Ortega stopped again, dangerously close to losing his balance.
« So, like... real real Pokémon meat? And of a prehistoric one? » he asked after a moment.
« What did it taste like?» Vega added, seemingly having abandoned the idea of doing anything productive that morning once and for all.
Turo hesitated a moment before answering.
« ... bacon. It was... good.»
The fact that he had actually enjoyed the taste had made him feel... conflicted, to say the least.
« But-»
« Turo.» Ortega cut him off before he could get another word in.
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« Turo, my man. That Mamoswine was made into steaks more than 10'000 years ago. It was going to get eaten anyway, it's not like they hunted it for you.» the man rolled his eyes and slammed the chair he had been balancing on down on all four legs, pointing at him with one finger.
« You're not going to angst about bacon. You're one of the smartest guys I've ever met, but you need to shut that brain of yours off sometimes and not overthink every little thing.»
Vega nodded sagely by his side, and Turo smiled the tiniest bit. All right... they had a point.
--
He went back to visit the injured Pokémon every couple of days. There had been a little moment of panic when it had first woken up and they had asked him if his notes had something about his eating habits, and the only think he knew about was that it ate real meat, since he had seen Sada feeding him little strips of it, Berries and "eggs". What kind of eggs he had no idea, and it would be of Pokémon that went long exctinct anyway... and Berries were also different from those in the modern era. What if it was allergic to something? What if they accidentally poisoned it because it wasn't compatible with food of this time? They had never brought a Pokémon from so far back... and reviving fossils didn't count. The revitalising process inevitably modified them to cover for the gaps in DNA they didn't have from the samples.
Those fears all proved moot when it started to happily inhale whatever they had tried to feed him.
Apparently, the answer to what it ate was "anything and everything". Without much problem.
It was pretty restless though, and trying to get him to stay still and not injure it's leg further had been a bit of a challenge, not to mention actually get close enough to treat it. Seeing him seemed to put Winged King a bit more at ease, so they had enlisted his help.
« Maybe he needs a companion? » the nurse, who he had found out was called Rory in these past days, mused. « Something that looks at least a bit similar to himself could put him more at ease... you said you have a Miraidon?»
Turo "mmm"-ed skeptically. The thought had also crossed his mind admittedly, but... he wasn't sure it was a good idea.
« ... you don't know much about Miraidon, do you?» he asked.
The nurse shook his head, causing the little Snowhoot perched on it to chirp and change leg.
« They are extremely territorial. In the wild, they really only meet whit other members of their species during mating season. Miraidons raised in cities since they were little are more docile, since they seem to associate their human trainers and home as their "territory", but they will still get aggressive if they feel one of the two is being threatened. You know how there is a law forbidding riding Miraidons in their "Battle Forms"? It's because every Miraidon, especially feral ones, will see it as an open invitation to attack.» he explained. It had been called Battle Form for a good reason, after all. Domesticated ones could still be wrangled a bit if it happened, maybe let them race, or spar and trade a couple of blows just to get it out of their system, but feral ones?
They would go absolutely berserk.
Which is why it was so dangerous, but it felt so good to ride on top of the dragon at full power. And he had faith in his trusty partner to keep him safe; Mirai was fast.
But Winged King? It if it reacted similarly like a wild one-which is basically was-, and the two started fighting at full force... he shuddered at the thought. A couple of cracks in the ceiling would be the least of their worries in that case.
« You said mating season....»
« They're both male, and I doubt they would even have compatible biology.» Turo shot down the other's proposal before he could even finish. He rubbed at his chin, thinking.
« But... maybe we can try. If they meet while not in Battle Form... get them slowly used to each other, maybe... » maybe they would see each other as different enough to not be considered a threat.
He nodded.
« I'll bring Miraidon with me tomorrow.»
--
The next day, Turo stepped into Winged King's room with the Masterball in his right hand and Miraidon's Pokéball in his left, ready to use them to recall one or both at the first sign of trouble. The red lizard was curled up in one corner of the room on his makeshift bed; it seemed to be in the equivalent of Miraidon's Low Power form, which was reassuring. Miraidons, at least, were much more calm and peaceful in that form.
Winged King woke up at hearing the door open, his orange pupils briefly narrowing to a slit before recognizing him. It growled softly while he entered,looking at his hands. Turo sighed.
« It's not food.» he used Sada's language since it seemed the one it should react to the most, and of course the Pokémon immediately got up at the word "food". He let Miraidon out, carefully observing the two Pokémon as he stepped near the door. The purple lizard's eyes immediately flashed as it saw the -even at low power- much bigger Pokémon and it hissed, crouching low on all fours. Turo was quick to stroke the Pokémon's neck.
« Stay calm... calm... he's not a threat...» he noticed that the two Pokémon seemed more confused than angry or agitated. It was, he guessed, probably due to seeing something that looked so similar yet so different to someone else of their species. He had noticed that they seemed to share quite a lot in terms of body language, but it didn't seem to be the only reason for their confusion. It took seeing Miraidon cautiously sniff the air and the other dragon mimicking him for Turo to recognize what they were doing.
Were they... smelling each other? But how would they even recognize...?
... he was an idiot.
The necklace. He had been wearing it for months by now, even before knowing whose Pokémon those feathers even belonged to, giving Miraidon more than enough time to notice the new, strange scent it must have carried. And for Winged King, he probably carried Miraidon's scent all over him anyway everytime he had visited, even if human senses were way too dulled to pick up on it.
He watched with trepidation as they slowly moved some steps forward, meeting in the middle of the room and then starting to circle each other. Winged King growled and flicked one of the antennae on his head, unfurling it to show the bright and powerful feathers it was made of. Mirai stared, perplexed, and so did Turo, the man together with a bit of fascination as he summoned a screen to record the meeting - someone would surely want to review the footage-. Was it some kind of display of dominance? Force?
"Look at how colorful my feathers are, how healty and ready to fight I am"?
Miraidon's own antennae were much more rigid unless in his Battle Form, and the purple lizard tilted it's head to the side, not knowing what to do with them. The Pokémon sniffed at the feathers, almost to confirm that yes, they had the same scent he had been picking up all over his human lately, then he suddenly boosted himself up on his hind legs, almost starting to float with a burst of energy and a roar of his jet engines, and let out a short but piercing shriek that took Turo by surprise. He had rarely heard him... scream like that.
Winged King growled in response and went on the defensive, rearing up on his back legs.
Turo readied the Master Ball by pointing it toward the red dragon and observed his lifelong partner carefully, trying to understand his reaction. Some people considered Miraidons too unespressive and aloof in personality, almost apathetic and difficult to read, but he had spent his whole life with one. He knew him well. Miraidon backed up toward him, his eyes never leaving the red dragon, not even simulating his normal blinking as he stared the other lizard down. His long tail gently pushed Turo against the door, and the man understood what had the Pokémon suddenly so riled up and... protective, he realized. He had only ever heard him scream like that when other Miraidons from friends or families had showed a bit too much interest in him for his liking. And by suddenly recognizing an unfamiliar Pokémon's scent on him, the dragon probably had thought...
« Buddy... he's not going to steal me away from you.» Turo chuckled with a warm smile, putting the Pokéball away and stepping forward to stroke the Pokémon's back. It growled but didn't look away from Winged King. Turo sighed and pressed the button on the Master Ball he was still holding, momentarily recalling the red dragon inside it. He needed a moment alone with his Pokémon without having to worry about a fight breaking out.
« You know there's no other Pokémon in the world I would trade you with.» he kept reassuring the Pokémon in a low voice, now petting his head and neck. Miraidon finally turned toward him, one single cyan eye regarding him carefully before gently bumping him in the chest with his snout, letting out something that sounded almost like an electronic chirp. He hugged the Pokémon with both arms, resting his forehead on the dragon's neck and listening to the electric, buzzing pulse of his heartbeat. Maybe he could try to make them meet another day, after they had calmed down.
---
He did make a couple of other attempts in the following days. Miraidon had still been suspicious, but he seemed to quietly tolerate Winged King as long as he didn't show any interest in Turo, and the two Pokémon had spent a couple of hours here and there together. Distracting both with food to get them used to each other's presence seemed to have worked a bit.
Having the two Pokémon side by side, at the least, was proving to be an invaluable source of information, giving the researchers at the Academy the opportunity to observe them interact with each other in real time.
« His leg is pretty much healed.» Rory confirmed on the tenth day, closing one monitor he had been using and getting back up after he had crouched to examine the Pokémon, as usual put asleep first by his Snowhoot.
« Which is good, since people were being interested in examining it move around a bit more. Do you think we could get him to fly around in the schoolyard, or it's not domesticated enough to listen to people yet?»
Turo frowned, muttering a "I don't think he will listen to anything that's not about food."
in response. Everyone seemed to take for granted that the Pokémon would stay at the Academy from now on, but he wasn't going to allow it. First of all, Winged King wasn't theirs.
Short of literally kidnapping it away from the Academy and then making a mad dash for the time machine to get it back in the correct time period, his only chance to get it away from the Academy was to actually come up with a good reason as to why they couldn't keep it here.
Turo was no man of action. He tried to picture himself sneaking Winged King outside in his Masterball, dodging researchers that screamed "STOP HIM" like in the cheesiest action movies, maybe jumping on top of Miraidon as they crashed through a window and glided toward the TTDL... and then simply getting stopped as soon as the Academy notified the theft and his time-anchor got deactivated. He would probably get expelled from the department, if not outright arrested for stealing from the Academy.
... yeah, not happening.
He was, however, a man of cold and calculating logic.
He needed to speak with Moreau.
---
« I have to admit, which how much trouble getting Pokémon from the past usually is, no one has ever asked me to send one back.»
Turo held the icy gaze of the current director of the TTDL, suppressing a shiver. He couldn't help it; even if he was perfectly confident in what he had to say - Moreau had to agree with him, because it just made sense -, something in the man's eyes always put him on edge. It's like the other was studying him through the lense of a microscope, always looking for something. What exactly he was looking for, he hadn't the slightest idea.
« This specimen is particular, sir. It has made contact with a group of humans, and one in particular-»
« The girl named "Sada" you keep mentioning in your reports.»
Turo flinched, caught by surprise, then nodded. It felt... surreal hearing someone else speak her name in his time, mostly because he had noticed that it was almost an unspoken rule in the TTDL to talk about people you met during your travels in vague terms, reports aside. It was always just "the native girl I've met", "that guy I've spoken to" and so on.
It was, now he realized, probably a somewhat subconscious way to keep their distance. Make it feel less real.
Don't get attached.
« ... yes, her. She has successfully trained the Pokémon to listen to some commands, found a way to summon it to her side, and even ridden it. Her settlement has just started domesticating Mareep. I believe... removing the Pokémon from its time would be harmful to... the timeline.»
Moreau raised an eyebrow.
« ... if it was, it's in the past. It would have already happened, together with whatever consequence it caused. Surely you know that.» he argued, crossing both arms to his chest. His time-anchor shined briefly at his wrist.
Yes... that was always the problem with the past, wasn't it?
He sighed a bit. Time for argument two.
« ... I still believe that this Pokémon being returned to his time is the correct order of events. Also, this specimen in particular would probably give us way more information being observed in his time than ours, even if it limits the instruments at our disposal.»
That seemed to pique the man's interest.
«... oh? What makes you say that?»
« Because it's an ancestor of Cyclizar and Miraidon outside Paldea.» he answered simply.
« What is it even doing in Prehistoric Kalos? Is it a single individual that just left their usual habitat for some reason, or did they use to live in a lot more places than their modern counterpart? And... honestly... to simply study it from a physical point of view... Prehistoric Paldea is probably full of them. We can send someone there to catch another one. We don't need this one in particular.»
He waited with bathed breath for the other's reaction. After a moment, he knew that he had convinced him when the man smirked.
« All right, all right... can't argue with that. I will speak with the Academy and you will bring it back.»
Turo had just relaxed when those glacial eyes studied him again.
« ... in the meanwhile, since they will need to clear the room I suppose, you can keep it with you until the next jump.»
---
His apartment was arguably a bit small even just for a Miraidon, but the Pokémon had the luxury of being able to open and close the balcony window with specialized electrical signals it emitted and roam the city when he wanted to stretch his limbs, so it had never really felt cramped.
Turo stared at the Masterball that had been sitting on the kitchen table as he finished his microwaved lunch and put the used dish in the sink, which cleaned it immediately and automatically slided it to it's place in a pile of other neatly impiled dishes, ready to be used again.
He felt bad keeping the Pokémon confined inside it, it just wasn't... something he was used to doing. Most people had one or two Pokémons at most, and kept them outside their Pokéballs pretty much all the time, and he was no exception.
But he also had the distinct impression that letting it out would spell disaster for him, even simply for how much... bulkier Winged King was compared to Miraidon.
He sighed, and turned toward Miraidon, who had been sitting by his side, eyeing the plate.
« ... I'm going to regret this, don't I?» he asked, before letting the red dragon out.
Winged King looked surprised at yet another change in his surroundings, and this time the sight of Miraidon and Turo evidently made him perk up a bit, probably happy that at least he was in the company of someone familiar. He pawed at the floor with his now healed leg, then started sniffing the air.
« You.» Turo pointed to Miraidon, who blinked. « Keep an eye on him. I need to shower. And be nice to him.»
A pause, then the lizard puffed up his throat the tiniest bit, pulsing with blue and yellow energy.
« Gyaa.»
Good. He had faith in his Pokémon. He could keep watch over Winged King and make sure it didn't wreck his apartment for the ten or so minutes it would take him to take a shower.
As he turned toward his bedroom, it didn't cross his mind that there would be no one to keep an eye on Miraidon.
---
It had just been... admittedly more than ten minutes, but it couldn't have been more than twenty. Thirty, at the very most.
They had raided the fridge. They had raided the pantry. They had, somehow, ordered delivery, possibly from a monitor he had left open right in the kitchen to play some music while he showered.
How had Miraidon even figured out how to do it? Had he memorized all the steps he did when he ordered something? Had he used electrical signals to mimic the steps?? But how, for the love of Arceus, had he managed to place the order? Had they been lucky enough to get a Rotom or Porygon on the phone???
He sat on the couch in his living room and stared at the two lizards as they happily devoured the fifth pizza, hair still damp and only half dressed. He had been halfway through putting on his bodysuit when the noise from the kitchen had alerted him to what was going on and he had rushed through the apartment to close the monitor. Even if Miraidon could, apparently, manipulate open terminals, he surely lacked the ID and authentication to open new ones.
He decided that from now, it was better to install parental control for the whole system in his house and a 36-characters alfanumerical password to confirm all future purchases.
Just to be sure.
---
It had been just a couple of days of having to deal with the two lizards until his next scheduled jump... but it had been a rough couple of days. Even if he had tried to keep Winged King in the Master Ball a bit more, it still had to obviously eat. And he had severely underestimated how much Pokémon that couldn't use Hadron energy needed to eat. Of course Miraidon and other contemporary Pokémon also ate, but like grass Pokémons could pretty much choose to eat or photosyntesize, or like most electric Pokémon could simply absorb electricity, he wasn't completely reliant on it.
Winged King, obviously, had to get all his nutrients from actual food. As the Pokémon's ravenous appetite kept drilling a metaphorical hole in his wallet, Turo found himself questioning in complete disbelief how much of society during the Pokémon League era they actually knew about.
There was no way that people actually could keep six Pokémon with them at all times, right? How would they even afford all that food?
And people could have entire boxes worth of Pokémon??? How weren't they always broke as soon as you got something bigger than a Fidough???
At the very least, Sada's expression when he had jumped back to not even a couple of seconds after he had left, at least from her perspective, had been priceless and had made it all worth it.
He had told her to "wait here", after all.
He watched with a satisfied smile as the two reunited, before he caught Sada looking at him in amazement.
... he had to admit, he did feel a bit proud of himself as she asked him how many days it had been.
Sada started to laugh as he explained, simplifying a bit, what had happened. He looks at her, the way her face lights up as she throws her head back just a tiny bit, how she stops to gasp for her breath as she sits down. When she looks back up at him, there is such warmth and gratitude and affection in her eyes that it sends a shiver down his spine. He leaned forward, raising both arms to pull her close as he kissed her. They stood like that for a while, simply enjoying each other's presence, Turo ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind telling him to make the most out of it.
... he still had to tell her one last thing about his "jumps", after all.
---
Now that Winged King was healed, he expected Sada to want to go flying as originally planned, but she shook her head when he asked and pointed back to the village.
« You are... "tired". » she pointed first to her eyes and then to him, and he self consciously rubbed at his eyes that still stung for the lack of sleep of the last couple of days. He wasn't exactly in perfect shape... then again, compared to her and people of this time, he probably never was.
« We'll go tomorrow.»
Back to the settlement it was then... he noticed some weird stares from people here and there, since they had pretty much just watched them leave, and this was starting to make his head hurt trying to keep everything straight.
Maybe jumping back not even five seconds later hadn't been such a brilliant idea after all, but... he had to admit he had wanted to... "show off" to Sada a bit.
... pathetic.
Turo stopped, again, when the children caught sight of them a second time and rushed them both.
... well, he supposed he had time for a couple of writing lessons after all.
---
This time, they hadn't been alone in the big communal tent, various other people already occupying it and sitting around a small hearth. He had been pretty self conscious of their curious stares at first, but had quickly grown used to it.
He had made it a game to have them write down various objects he would point at or draw, and after a while, all four children had decided that it was only right for them to teach him a game of their own.
The name they had called it had been absolutely incomprehensible to him, but it was pretty straightforward. The players sat in a circle, taking turns picking up what looked like little stones or fragments of bones. You threw one stone in the air, and before it fell back down, you had to perform a certain number of actions with the same hand. At the beginning, it was to simply knock on the ground, or grab another pebble or bone from the pile, and he had managed to do it without much problem, but the actions only grew in number and complexity as the game went on. Grab multiple stones from the pile. Or grab one and put one back, all in a matter of seconds. Or do all that and then catch the stone in midair before it touched the ground, which lead to having to throw it higher to gain more time. Catch it and have it land on your knuckles, balancing it there. It was obviously a game of skill and dexterity, and the children looked delighted as they showed him the various challenges, gesticulating wildly as they explained and asking Sada to demonstrate some of the most difficult actions.
Judging by how they erupted into fits of giggling everytime he failed a step or managed to have the pebble fall back on his head, they were also pretty happy to finally have an adult that they could utterly trash at the game.
« You are good, for... for you.» Sada had been sitting near him and mending some clothes. She tried to cheer him up when the game had ended, before adding in a lower voice.
« Your people don't do this?» prompting him to smile and shake his head. Ah! No, the games they played in his time were definitely much different.
He looked back toward the children that had been called by one of the hunters near the fire to help cook, or sharpen stones, or make arrows.
He had thought about them a good while in this past month, and while he still felt that pang of sadness and almost guilt as he looked at them, another sentiment slowly emerged as he sat in the cozy warm atmosphere of the tent, stronger than the other two.
Admiration. He couldn't help but admire how, even in living conditions that looked terrible to him and his spoiled modern point of view, this four kids, and who knows how many others all over the world, and all the other people present had managed to... to enjoy life.
Even when every day was a battle for survival, they had made up games to play together, stories to tell, they had made songs and art, not because it was useful or needed to survive, but just because they could. If it hadn't been for them, all of humanity and he himself wouldn't even exist.
He sighed softly and laid his head on Sada's shoulder, closing his eyes and just losing himself in the moment as he listened to her start to hum as she worked.
--
Sada had finally dragged him inside the "adult" circle sitting around the fire, both men and women starting to slowly ask him questions, with Sada trying to translate as best as she could. Yes, he was a "shaman". No, he had never hunted anything in his life (some of them seemed to take it as a joke, because that obviously couldn't be true).
Sada's mother had asked him about this "cotton" thing again, looking thoughtful, and this time he managed to give a vague answer about ancient weaving techniques of using fibers to make cloth (He had looked it up), with much gesticulating and drawing on his notebook when words failed him, which was quite often. She had looked quite interested, nodding here and there; the technique was evidently already familiar to her, just not the specific material used.
Then the actual shaman and second eldest person in the settlement entered the tent, and everyone fell silent, watching with rapt attention as Sada stood up and motioned to him to follow to introduce the two.
« Narjik, this is Turo, the other... "shaman". Turo, this is Narjik.» Sada smiled a bit as she stole a glance at him, curious about his reaction.
"Narjik" didn't appear to be dressed much differently than any other person in the settlement and Turo realized, with a bit of shame, that he had been subconsciously picturing weird feathered headpieces and other stereotypical things usually associated with the word of tribe elder and similar in media. Which, of course, didn't even make sense.
What the man did have to distinguish him from everyone else and that probably had gained him his position, other than the markings that looked painted over his face, was... wisdom. He exuded an aura of calm, dignified awareness, and carried himself slowly, methodically, like he knew exactly what was going on in the whole settlement at any given time. This was a man that had survived as long as he did by sheer cunning and had amassed a veritable wealth of knowledge to help others do the same.
People looked up at him not because they believed him to have some magical mystical power(or at least, not just for that), but mostly because he knew what to do in any given situation. Like Sada's mother, they had experience.
He... Didn't really feel like he deserved to share the same title of "shaman" in their eyes right now.
« ... Hello.»
The man nodded, then looked him up and down, and Turo was suddenly reminded of Moreau. The feeling of getting studied intensely under a microscope was the exact same.
The man exchanged some quick words with Sada, and she arched an eyebrow with a brief look of surprise on her face before turning back towards him.
« He says... He is happy for you teaching writing. Umm... He... Wants to "trade" with you. »
One of the last words was unfamiliar, and Turo tilted his head, trying to make sense of the sentence as Narjik sat down near the fire, one of the younger hunters who looked around Sada's age making room for him.
« "Trade"?»
Sada picked up a pebble from the game and mimicked giving him something, and getting something from him in return.
... Oh. He looked back at the elder, suddenly nervous. What... Could he possibly want? Had Sada told people about the Master Ball... No, of course not. She had literally just seen it and he had been with her the whole time since.
... His head hurt.
He sat down near the older man, Sada on his other side, now with a bit of curiosity. What could he possibly want? And most importantly, how could he gently let him down if it was something impossible? Did he think that he was from another tribe nearby?
« What... Trade?» he asked, a bit awkwardly.
The man motioned to the notebook Turo had been using to draw, and Sada seemed to understand and pretty much burst with excitement.
« You have "paper". And the... Writing water.»
... Oh. Get them more paper and ink...?
It... Wouldn't be that difficult for him, the TTDL was full of old school writing supplies exactly because they were so easy to carry around and destroy leaving no trace if necessary.
There... Should be no harm in it.
He could have asked for much worse.
Turo nodded, and the shaman smiled for the first time after meeting him, before saying something else.
« He asks... What you want.» Sada looked at him a bit oddly, and he was pretty sure he could imagine what she was thinking.
"What could we possibly give to a man that can disappear in a flash of light, effortlessly trap creatures in shiny white rocks and jump through time?"
Honestly, his first instinct had been to refuse. Say that he needed nothing. But that would have... Put the shaman in an awkward position. This was a matter of... Respect. Of treating each other like equals. And there actually was something he desperately needed that they could help him with, he realized. It made his stomach turn a bit, because it was something that he had tried not to think too much about because it made him uncomfortable, but it was the safest way for him to do it.
« ... Creatures. » everyone now turned to look at him, and he pointed to the flute on Sada's hip.
« Show me... How you hunt creatures.» he exchanged a meaningful look with Sada, quietly slipping his left hand into his lab coat pocket. Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded without a word, understanding what he had actually meant. He smiled a tiny bit. It felt... good, to have her as an ally that knew his secret, instead of just being someone else he had to lie to.
Narjik blinked, a bit surprised, then nodded and smiled. Turo almost expected him to offer him an handshake or something to seal the deal, but the man did something different. He turned towards one of the man and whispered what sounded like an order. Now that he noticed, the man looked strikingly similar to him; a son? Younger brother? They aged so differently living such a heavy and physically demanding lifestyle that he honestly couldn't tell. Narjik and Sada's mother themselves, with their heavy wrinkles and white hair, could be anywhere from their early fifties to seventies... If people even lived that long. The man took out what looked like a water skin from one corner of the tent and offered it to the elder. Narjik took it, opened it up, and took a sip before offering it to him.
Turo hesitated, his eyes going to Sada.
« Um...»
She nodded encouragingly, and he took it as confirmation that this was how they did things.
He understood why when he took it from the man and brought it to his lips.
It smelled strongly and unmistakably like alcohol, and tasted like a fruity, extremely strong wine. He took just a sip of it and could already feel it burn his throat and get straight to his head.
... Of course getting smashed together was another thing that people had always done just because they could.
--
« Time anchor ID 9537 has returned from space-time coordinates 48°51′12″ N, 2°20′55″ E. Welcome back...» Porygon 568's voice trailed off, the Pokémon falling into silence as it scanned him.
« ... you are intoxicated. Getting into the time machine in a state of altered perception poses a risk and is forbidden by rule number three of-»
« Exactly» Turo interrupted the little duck Pokémon and raised one finger. He wasn't drunk! Well Narjik and the guys had encouraged him to take quite a couple more "sips", and then they had taught him the drinking game version of the little children's games, and... all right, Sada had to throw him onto Winged King's back to get far enough from the village to safely jump back to make sure no one would see him, but he wasn't drunk. Just... sligthly inebriated.
« The rules say... you can't get into the time machine drunk. I'm getting out of the time machine.»
He smirked triumphantly at Porygon 568 as the little dopey Zapdos-looking duck just stared at him. Thinking. Working out the logic.
« That is... correct.» it had to admit, reluctantly.
He patted the Pokémon's head as he made his way out of the room, humming.
---
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Cc: [email protected], [email protected], +6 others
Subject: Re: Report
As amusing as reading your latest report was, I'm afraid that I can't accept it as it is. You will find my comments about it in the attached file. Please write it again... when you are sober.
In particular, I don't think that "getting hammered FOR SCIENCE" is a acceptable title. Please follow the usual department guidelines.
Greetings,
Professor Louis Moreau
Ex tempore, scientia.
Ex scientia, sapientia.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Cc: [email protected], [email protected], +6 others
Subject: Re: Re: Report
[sent with voice to text]
I HAVE NO MEMORY OF THIS.
I'm mortified. I will rewrite it immediately.
Greetings,
Dr. Romero Turo