✦✧-(Pineco)-✧✦
The Pineco perched high in the tree, its sturdy shell blending seamlessly with the rough bark. It wasn't the biggest or the strongest of its kind, but it didn't need to be. For as long as it could remember, it had known that its path would be different from the others in the colony.
While its kin focused on defense, ready to explode at the slightest hint of danger, Pineco had always thought beyond the immediate threat. It was not especially smarter than any in its colony, but unique circumstances gave it a new perspective.
No matter how much it tried, no matter how often it braced itself, it simply couldn't self-destruct.
At first, it had been a source of shame. Among its kind, being unable to explode felt like being incomplete. Pineco had heard the whispers from the other members of the colony, their concerns that it couldn't properly defend itself or others. But rather than wallow in disappointment, Pineco began to adapt a more encouraging mindset.
'If I can't explode, I'll find another way to protect us.'
It didn't have the natural defense its kind relied on, but perhaps that was a blessing. Without the constant reliance on explosions, Pineco had time to observe the world around it, to learn that there were other ways to survive—ways that didn't involve fear and destruction. The more it watched the interactions of other Pokémon, the more it began to believe that its inability to explode wasn't a flaw—it was an opportunity.
The colony was feared throughout the forest, and even beyond. Pineco had overheard trainers and Pokémon alike whispering about its kind in hushed voices. They didn't see Pineco as anything but a ticking bomb, a creature too dangerous to approach. And that reputation, while powerful, had a heavy price.
'We're isolated,' Pineco realized one day. 'They see us as nothing but a threat.'
It didn't want that. Pineco didn't want its legacy—or the legacy of its colony—to be one of fear and danger. It wanted something more.
It had seen how other Pokémon thrived—not through fear, but through cooperation, alliances, and understanding. Yes, there were always skirmishes. Beedrill colonies would never ally with their rivals—the Butterfree. But Raticate sometimes worked alongside Meowth gangs, securing food and territory without resorting to constant battles. Even less aligned Pokémon like Nidoran and Oddish seemed to navigate the forest with more grace than Pineco's colony ever did.
It had watched how they banded together, how they found ways to resolve conflicts without violence. And in those moments, it had realized that perhaps its inability to explode was its greatest strength. It could approach others without fear of harming them. It could talk, learn, and grow without the looming threat of destruction hanging over every interaction.
'We can be more than this. More than bombs waiting to blow up. We can be allies, friends.'
Diplomacy. That was the key. If Pineco couldn't rely on explosions to communicate or defend itself, it had to rely on something else. Words, actions, trust. It had to show others that they were more than just volatile creatures waiting to go off. Pineco wanted to be a shining example of what its species could achieve if given the chance.
'If I can't explode, then I'll become the one that bridges the gap between us and the rest of the world.'
It was an ambitious dream, but Pineco was determined. Its inability to self-destruct was a symbol, in a way—a sign that there could be more to their species. The explosions that had once defined them could become a thing of the past, if they chose. Pineco wanted to show its colony that they didn't have to rely on fear to survive. There was another path, and Pineco would walk it first.
Pineco knew its explosion was a part of who it was—but it was a powerful tool, not the only thing. What it wanted was choice. The ability to choose peace over fear, cooperation over isolation. To show others that they didn't have to be afraid, that there was more to Pineco than what met the eye.
Despite not being able to explode, Pineco was not helpless. It traded sheer destruction for versatility, having to compensate for its weakness with unique abilities. In place of the core of raw power needed to explode, was one overflowing with insight.
Instead of the common brawn, this power fed off of thought—intellect.
'Perhaps one day they'll realize that destruction isn't the only path to strength.'
It knew it wouldn't be easy. The colony had relied on their destructive abilities for so long that it was ingrained in their very identity. Just as a Pidgey took pride in its wings, its species took pride in their explosions. But Pineco believed that change was possible. And it would start with diplomacy. It would start with showing the world—and its own colony—that there was more to them than just the ability to explode.
If it could make a connection with just one person, then maybe others would follow.
'If I am fated never to explode then I shall become the fuse who changes everything.'
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With that declared, Pineco clung tighter to the tree, waiting for the right moment to begin its journey. It had a dream, and nothing—not even the absence of its most notorious ability—would stop it from trying to change its world.
✦✧-(Caelan)-✧✦
The air smelled faintly of earth and vegetation, a welcome contrast to the industrial tang of the city.
"Good find," Caelan said, plucking a small flower from the ground and examining it closely. It was unmistakably a Bugwort, just like the image in his PokéGear. He carefully tucked it into a pouch at his side.
Rattata puffed out her chest proudly, her whiskers twitching as she sniffed at the remaining patches of grass around them. Caelan allowed himself a small smile, scratching behind her ear in the spot she liked the most.
They'd already wandered past the last few residential blocks, now in a quieter zone dotted with sparse trees and patches of untamed grass. It was the kind of place where wild Pokémon were common, though not often the dangerous kind.
Caelan stood up, the faint smirk on his face already fading as he glanced at the horizon. "Yeah... just 249 more." His voice trailed off as he scanned the area, feeling the weight of the task settle in. The fields around them were wild and hid any flowers underneath its tall grass, and for a moment, he considered just how long this would take.
"Well, at least we've got a start," he said to himself, then he addressed Rattata. "You search, I gather."
Rattata squeaked, already darting off to sniff at the next patch of grass. She was fast, her small form weaving in and out of the tufts of greenery with practiced ease, her sharp senses focused on the mission. Caelan couldn't help but admire her diligence, even while doing something as simple as looking for flowers. And she was resourceful to boot—he would've been here for hours before finding his first one if he didn't have her.
He kneeled down again after Rattata signaled another find, carefully plucking another Bugwort. For some reason they didn't grow in bundles like normal flowers. Just one at a time.
Still, that was two down. 248 to go.
"I really hope we don't run into those Spearow," he muttered to himself, glancing at the skies. No wild Pokémon causing trouble yet, but there was no telling how long their peace would last.
Rattata let out a soft squeak, trotting back with a Bugwort in her mouth. Caelan let her drop it into his hand and added them to the growing collection in his bag. As he worked, he let his mind go empty as they did the mindless task of picking up and collecting flowers.
Even though Rattata was the primary pursuer of flowers, she never let her surroundings slip from her attention, even when doing something as mundane as plant gathering. He didn't really have to worry about anything sneaking up on him with her around.
After a few more minutes of picking and gathering, Caelan's bag was starting to fill up with the collected Bugwort. He still had… well, definitely more than 200 to go, but they were getting there.
Maybe it wouldn't take days?
Ah, who was he kidding. Even if they found one once every five minutes that'd still be more than 10 hours of labor.
Suddenly, Rattata paused, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. She darted toward the edge of a clearing, where the grass was thinner. Caelan followed her, crouching down to see what had caught her attention. There, hidden in the shade of a low bush, was a different kind of plant—a cluster of pale blue flowers.
"That's… uh…," he said, reaching down to carefully pick the flowers. "I've got no idea. I'll look it up."
But just as he was about to pluck the flower out of the ground, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. A small, round Pokémon—a Pineco—was watching them from a nearby tree, its spiked shell blending in with the bark.
Caelan blinked in surprise. Pineco weren't exactly rare, but he hadn't expected to see one this close. Pineco stared back at him with curious, unblinking eyes.
"Well, hello there," Caelan said softly, keeping his voice calm so as not to startle the Pokémon. Pineco were known to explode when frightened or threatened, and he didn't know the blast radius. Rattata, sensing the potential danger, stood perfectly still, her gaze locked on the Pineco.
He was surprised she didn't immediately become aggressive. She was definitely getting a treat later for being so damn smart.
For a few moments, Caelan and the Pineco just stared at each other, neither making a move.
Just as he was about to turn away from it, there was a sudden rustling above. Caelan barely had time to react before the Pineco lost its grip on the branch, plummeting to the ground with a solid thud. He flinched instinctively, taking a step backward, bracing for the worst—but no explosion came.
Instead, the Pineco landed with a grunt, its spikes shaking slightly. Rattata remained frozen, eyes wide, ready for anything.
But the Pineco didn't seem agitated. It righted itself, shaking off the impact, and rolled forward at a slow, deliberate pace, as if it was just as curious about him as he was cautious about it.
"Easy," Caelan muttered, holding out his hand slightly. "We're not here to bother you."
The Pineco stopped a few feet away, its spikes twitching slightly. It didn't look scared, but it was definitely aware of his own caution. Or maybe it was just a slow moving Pokemon in general. He wasn't sure.
He slowly reached into his bag and pulled out a small handful of berries, holding them out in the open palm of his hand.
"Here. You want some?"
The Pineco hesitated, eyeing the offering warily before slowly rolling forward. It sniffed at the berries, its body shifting slightly as if it was considering whether the berries were poisoned or not.
Knowing how smart some Pokemon could be, Caelan wouldn't doubt if that was actually what it was thinking.
Caelan sighed in relief as the Pineco finally took the bait, nudging the berries into its mouth. "There we go. No need to be shy."
Rattata, though still on alert, seemed to relax a bit, sitting back on her haunches while keeping a watchful eye on the newcomer.
The Pineco seemed to appreciate the gesture, munching on the berries while continuing to observe Caelan and Rattata. After a few moments, it rolled back slightly, looking Caelan in the eyes.
"Piiiine," It said slowly. He had no idea what that meant.
Sounded funny though, so he chuckled. "I'm guessing we're all friends here?"
Rattata squeaked in response, her tail swishing in amusement. The encounter had gone smoothly, but Caelan knew better than to let his guard down entirely. With the unpredictability of the wild, things could change in an instant.
He gave the Pineco a final nod before standing up, adjusting the straps of his bag. "Alright, let's keep moving. Still got a lot more Bugwort to gather before we're done."
With Rattata leading the way and the Pineco watching them disappear into the grass, Caelan pressed on, thoughts drifting to the next steps—of which moves he was planning on teaching Rattata when the time came.
"This shouldn't take too long," Caelan muttered under his breath. "Hopefully."