I Sting (Pokemon Poison Type Specialist)

 

Coming back to her apartment after that… vision made Virah feel that her room felt… a lot more hollow than before.

 

It already felt empty back then, mostly because it was built that way, what with all the plain walls and perfectly angular features of the apartment building it was bound to have an uncanny feel, and that goes double when all the trash and effects of weathering start to pop up over time.

 

But Virah had always tried her best to keep this place as clean as she could get it, and for the most part, she had succeeded and her bed, her appliances, and even the floor looked decent compared to everything outside and she was sure that if someone came in here, they'd think that it was a neat and tidy space.

 

And unlike Virah, they wouldn't notice all the… stains on the upper corners of the wall, which had gone black thanks to water seepage as well as the Pokemon-battle borne cracks on some parts of the otherwise solid concrete.

 

Chances are, the gazes of potential visitors would go over all the tiny imperfections within such a small space because the bigger picture was simply cleaner as a whole but Virah… couldn't really help herself.

 

And so she stared, her eyes heading up above to the cracks present on the ceiling as well as the wet stains on the floor, and even Nitro's little home weaved from silk made the place look ugly in Virah's eyes and she wanted to tear it down- was tempted to stomp it flat but she was better than that and with a deep breath followed by a sigh, she put her bubbling anger under control.

 

She raised her head and then let it drop, thumping against her pillow.

 

She felt that she was too tired to do anything at the moment and despite that, her head ached for something physical- anything other than this monotonous drawl that forced her to think about the implications of using Aura and becoming someone like Koga.

 

The road to the peak of power was… harsh. A struggle. And the climb to the top? Ho oh's Feather wouldn't be able to help you with the pain you'll experience from that journey.

 

But Virah knew that setbacks would always come, that at some point or another, she'd be pushed down, either by her own mistake or something truly out of her control- that's normal- that's life- she'd push back and bite it in the neck to bring it down if she has too. Whatever it is. Problems. Maybe.

 

But some problems- some problems just hurt to look at- like staring at the picture of something disturbing, heart wrenching- gut reeling.

 

“Like the smell of wet mercury,” Virah said out loud, hoping that words would start her first step on facing the problem that was her past. “Good old mercury,”

 

The memory was distinct in her head, even before the vision she knew that it was there, at the back of her mind. Always present but perpetually ignored.

 

It was why she avoided obstacles most of the time, avoided… dead ends, really, it was why she was afraid of not checking rooms for poison, and yet at the same time, and thanks to that particularly painful experience, Virah also had the conviction to get herself away from her current poisonous life and get out of the pit fate had dug and tossed her into like an abandoned doll.

 

Trauma was an ugly thing and no one sane or understanding has said that it doesn't hurt- and the people who do are often… not normal- insane- have lost a few screws in their head- and broken in their own way, Virah supposed.

 

She closed her eyes and tried to take a whiff of the scent that had overpowered her mind back in the park.

 

Slowly, she breathed, and after who knows how long, Virah found herself going back in a time she'd long since forgotten-

 

She remembers now, clearly too- it was a house, nice and orderly before it was turned into a deathtrap.

 

Furniture of medium costs lay about on the floor, occupying space and making it even smaller, there were gaps between them of course, for movement- the best of these was the space between the couch and the coffee table she was seeing in front of her.

 

On the couch were her parents, sitting down and laughing about something she couldn't quite hear, they were happy- were.

 

Virah was too.

 

The her then ran around, moving past various things and furniture, chairs, that one looked like some sort of stuffed animal, and that one-

 

Then something assaulted her nose and she tugged on the sleeves of her father's shirt, the tiny hand was miniature- dwarfed- by the article of clothing and her grasp had managed to hold naught but a sliver of the entire thing.

 

So was it really a surprise no one heeded her warning about the strange smell?

 

Virah walked away, concerned, and then at the top something dripped, it almost struck her foot, whatever it was- mercury- the her now seeped into the mind of the young Virah but it had no effect- if at all- and even as she begged and cried and weeped for her to go back and push her discovery to her parents- yell- throw a tantrum-

 

Nothing came and the memory played on, unchanged- Virah went outside to play and then when she came back, she was pulled out of the house and was taken to the Jennies, who started talking about how it was mercury from shattered lamps and lab equipment which had killed her parents.

 

She felt weightless as she was lifted up by a police officer, his calloused hands warm against her soft, unblemished skin.

 

Virah felt something then- heaving- crying- and something wormed into her mind as she felt her own breaths intertwine with that of her memories- then her heart raced the same way the crying her did- heaving- panting- constricting her chest-

 

Virah's eyes snapped open she abruptly sat up, tossing the purple rodent on her chest away as she did so, the Pokemon made a sound, “Ratata!”

 

She heaved and numbly stared forward, head flushed with panic and adrenaline, and she stared at nothing in front of her for seconds- which ticked into minutes and eventually, when she had calmed down enough, Virah's body slumped back to her bed and her eyes listlessly went to the ceiling.

 

“… that had been mostly normal,” she said to no one but herself, “weird, but normal,”

 

At the start, at least.

 

The memory felt clearer now and she was distinctly remembering the vision- her time as a kid had been something that was shown but that wasn't the trauma, was it?

 

It was during the heaving when… she saw the dead bodies of her parents being rolled out of their house- eyes lifeless and faces white as though the faces of the holy Geishas that praised Ho oh.

 

“Ratata?” Virah felt a hand land on her shoulder and she turned to the side to see Ratata standing there while looking at her in concern, “Ratata?”

 

“Than- thank you,” she said and sat up, “I think I'm- I'm actually practicing Aura, Ratata,” Virah rubbed the rodent's head, making him purr, “it's… good but- but I need to confront my trauma, you know?”

 

Her words sounded confusing to her own ears, “uh, I need to face the trauma, I mean,” she sighed, why was she even trying to explain it? “Sorry for worrying you, I'm fine, and uh, thanks again,” Virah smiled and stopped rubbing Ratata's head, “do you want anything? I- I think I want to go out, for a breath of fresh air or something,”

 

Ratata shook his head and simply pointed at the bag of Pokefeed near the wall, Virah looked at it and grinned, “if you say so,”

 

When she poured it out of the bag, Virah made sure that the Pokefeed spilled out of the bowl and to the floor, and when asked by the Normal Type about it, she simply said that she dazed out and that it was on accident.

 

Ratata knew that she was likely lying, and Virah hid a smile when the rodent played along.

 

She went out of her apartment and down to the streets where she suddenly noticed all the pieces of trash lying around her, the plastics came and went, flown away by the gusts of wind still present on the narrow, but slightly wide pathway directly outside of the apartment building, while the trashbags… stayed. Immobile thanks to their weight.

 

Curious, Virah went near one of the piles and checked it for the trail of purple sludge that was iconic to the Grimer line, there wasn't any, as expected, and Virah felt disappointed at the thought but then again… maybe there was something out there that her Kakuna could use?

 

Items held by Pokemon were often rare, and none of them pop up within trashbags of all things but strangely enough, sometimes, when a Grimer is born, then there's a chance that the item Black Sludge forms along with them and that, Virah thought, is something that she can use in battle. Especially since she now has a Kakuna.

 

She knew that there was nothing in the pile of trash in front of her- or the ones around her, - and so she walked, making her way across the city until eventually, she reached one of the many dumping sites of Goldenrod.

 

It was near the sewers, close enough that if a Grimer came to life, they'd immediately find a drain and seep into it for escape.

 

The entire thing was a neat little system that Virah knew was designed on purpose by the Pokemon League because as disgusting as Muk and Grimers are, they like to eat trash and that sort of Pokemon is simply too useful not to put in the sewers of cities.

 

Following this chain of logic, Virah checked the many drains around the site until she found a trail of purple sludge that looked wet and new- she followed it back to where it came from, checked the pile of garbage the Grimer was birthed in, and was disappointed it didn't have a Black Sludge on it.

 

She did this five more times before she found what she was looking for; a black ball that stunk so bad it made Virah cover her nose, it was semi-solid and felt like wet clay when touched, most kids would play with it unknowing of what they were holding even.

 

But Virah wasn't planning on playing with it and instead, she put the item in front of the bud of Nitro's Pokeball and watched it turn into a stream of red light that got sucked into the sphere.