PokéLove

A few days have passed by with minimal progress updates on Vulpix. They’ve put her on an IV since she’s unconscious most of the day, but that’s about it. I’m just glad I’m not the one paying for this—the Pokémon League is.

 

I’ve been bouncing around with various ideas for pokémon competitions. Reviewing rules and bouncing around ideas like hexadecimal, applications of factorials, encrypted text.

 

I’ve found a few loopholes I think are applicable. First, a pokémon may stand at their trainer’s side and may interact with others in a non-offensive manner. For example: using moves of any kind. Another thing is the use of non-disruptive methods of communication, like this one guy that conducted his pokémon using a baton.

 

So, I have a plan. A few hitches. Luckily, I don’t need a Psychic-type pokémon. Not-so-luckily, I need to go to a cave, but I need to visit a few of the caves for other purposes and experiments. I also need to make a few modules to add onto my arms, but they’ll be simple enough to make. A simple application of…something? That…doesn’t exist.

 

However, the concept of which is firmly rooted in my mind—a name which can only be derived from Fourier. What that means; however, I cannot explain. On the other hand, I have concepts of theorems and postulates which I can barely attribute a name and explanations towards that don’t exist here. We have inventions and discoveries that cannot be correlated with our current understanding of mathematics.

 

Put simply, there’s a large historical discrepancy between our current understanding of science and math, and our understanding of actual inventions. We appear to have focused more towards pokémon themselves.

 

Some of discoveries are related to nuclear power without a full concept of what we did. We just happened to get lucky…

 

Well, if this knowledge is going to lodge itself in my mind, despite the headache I get every time I think about it, I won’t look the gift Ponyta in the mouth. I also require the procurement of a certain pokémon. Whether it be from a shelter, the wilds, or an egg, I don’t really care. However, I’m not going to be definitive with this plan until I’m at least 95% certain of its success. Don’t want to be playing with others’ lives now, do I?

 

Another observation: the pokémon language. Pokémon usually just speak in either basic onomatopoeias or their names. Despite this, they can usually understand each other perfectly, and, as an added bonus, can transmit a lot of meaning in only a few words…I guess?

 

Speculation, speculation. One of many ideas bouncing around this head. Maybe one will hit the corner and be the one I need.

 

I’ve been in town for a few days, and the locals have started to notice. Usually, trainers will just come and go—another footnote on the history of the town. I, however, have been here much longer than normal, and the gossip train has departed the station.

 

Of course, I don’t care. People can gossip all they want. If they try and ruin me, then I’ll probably just DOS them. I’ve done it before…accidently, too!

 

However, they are noisy, and I require peace and quiet to think efficiently about delicate matters, so I went patrolling around the nearby woodlands for anything of note. Really, there’s not a lot.

 

While I stalked the area, I had my pokémon train their moves. Target practice for Hazel and Robin, and some weight training for Cecilia.

 

Robin had what is essentially a rifle course where she has to practice her accuracy with Dragon Breath on distant targets. Speed is essential, but she’s taking it easy at the beginning. Gotta start somewhere.

 

Hazel had a shotgun course where I attached a circuit with a randomizer to several catapults, and every few seconds, it launches a clay Pidgey in the air at a random speed and direction. She must try to hit it with Pin Missiles before it hits the ground. Thus far, she’s missed three of seven.

 

I’m stealing from Ash on the one but with the inverse of his function. I’ve attached mini parachutes to some weights for Cecilia to use gust on. With some effort and a dash of luck, she might be able to move one of them.

 

Having gone out a little farther today, I find something quite interesting. A truck, armored, like the ones built for banks. However, this one has a noticeable logo of an R on the side. I’ve seen plenty of each country’s Most Wanted to know which group this belongs to. Plus, a little garage built in the middle of the forest screams funding.

 

I wince a little as I approach—a horrible screeching noise pierces my eardrums. From within the back of the truck, I hear pained screams; from what, I cannot tell. However, to my trained memory, the timbre of one of the voices matches Serena and another to Professor Sycamore.

 

…I don’t have issues…

 

Eventually, it stops, and I peek inside.

 

“—in my coat pocket.” I only hear the tail-end of what Sycamore says, but whatever it was, the Meowth goes up and roots in his pocket.

 

“Look what I found! A memory card!” The Meowth says, holding up a SD card. I feel like I should feel more excited and astonished at the fact that a Meowth is talking (especially since he’s a Normal type and Astonish is a Ghost-type move), but I feel more disappointment in Professor Sycamore’s repeated habit of forgetting things in his pockets.

 

…I need to regroup. My pokémon are still out in the forest, doing their training. This is too dangerous of a situation to go in with just my arms, even with the confidence that I could rip them in half.

 

Where did that come from?

 

No matter. Another thing for the therapist. Finding a slight crack in the wall, I fire off one of the claws of my arms. This function is still in an experimental phase, but I plan on making my own Pin Missiles. Except, hopefully, these will be auto-targeting.

 

However, the GPS function will work for what I need it to do.

 

Just have to hope it doesn’t get found.

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

“Hey, what’s this?” I overhear, making me wince. That voice was too deep for the Meowth, must be the blue-haired man.

 

“Whatcha find, James?” Note: James. A Meowth, too.

 

“A weird, metal object. Almost shaped like a Staryu, but it’s missing its two upper arms. I wince again. “It was dug into the wall.”

 

“Maybe some kind a bolt?” A feminine voice says, not of Serena or Bonnie’s.

 

“Or maybe…it’s a tracker,” the Meowth says with his heavy accent. “But from who?”

 

“Maybe it’s the Boss?” James replies. “I’ll figure it out later. The data is almost completely uploaded!” He sounds giddy, but much to my relief, he sets down the claw on the table. Okay. Emergency provisions I need to add to the arms.

 

A way to hide, a way to survey, a way to avoid acquisition.

 

Oh, right. Me. I’m currently sitting in a tree, or rather, I’m dangling from one. There isn’t a single branch thick enough to support me, but six smaller branches plus the trunk can.

 

There isn’t a good plan I can think of that doesn’t end in some form of heavy injury on my side. If I had a good enough distraction that I felt little consequence for, then I would be able to slip inside.

 

However, the only people that aren’t on Team Rocket and aren’t aware of me are Sycamore, Serena, and Bonnie. I’m sure I’m not going to sacrifice a kid just to save someone.

 

“Che! Chespin!” My brow furrows as I hear the call of a Chespin. Those little guys aren’t native to this forest. Looking down, I see a Chespin running towards the secret base, tailed by Clemont and Ash.

 

Wonderful! I have significantly less care for those two.

 

Chespin charges in, and I make my move. I jump garage warehouse and start scuttling up and around towards the back.

 

Like all architecturally sound buildings, there’s a way for air to move throughout the building. In this case, scouting around the back of the garage found me an air vent where the heat from the cave is pumped out.

 

Shielding my face with my trench-coat, I rip off the grate and jump in. The heat is a little much but driving a claw through the fan dissipates the oppressive force marginally. Not touching the ground once, I navigate through the vents haphazardly, tearing through the HVAC system with amounts of noise that’s bound to gain suspicion.

 

“—your friends are stuck tight!” James says with confidence as the final grate is crumpled into a ball. I drop from the ceiling with ease, landing with grace and beauty. I glance towards Team Rocket, finding them busy with their motto or something.

 

So that’s how they didn’t notice me. Huh. The police reports had them sounding much scarier than they’re currently being.

 

Retracting my arms enough to let my touch the ground, I walk over to Serena, Sycamore, and Bonnie. Ash and Clemon are starting to make their way over as well since Team Rocket is very much distracted.

 

“Hey, guys. Need help?” I say, not hearing the answer as my arms sweep through the tape holding Serena and Bonnie. The stuff holding Professor Sycamore is different though, but the familiar box at his feet is just as susceptible to immense force. So, it was these guys who messed with Garchomp.

 

“Thanks, Nicole,” Serena says, looking away.

 

I pat her shoulder, dusting away some dirt. “It’s fine. Are you okay? Same with Professor Sycamore and Bonnie.”

 

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

 

“I’m good! They didn’t hurt me!” Bonnie replies, emphatically.

 

“I’m sound as well. Thanks for untying me.” Professor Sycamore stretches, cracking his back a little.

 

“Bonnie!” Clemont runs past me and begins checking up on Bonnie. Well, can’t fault him for checking up on his sister.

 

I face Ash. “Hey. Nice to see you here.”

 

He rubs the back of his neck with a cheeky smile. “Thanks, Nicole.” Then pauses. “How’d you get here so fast?”

 

Staring him in the eyes, I reply, “Waiting for the perfect moment. A hostage’s health is the highest priority.” The fact that I’m slightly taller than Ash helps punctuate my point at his reckless action of running inside.

 

Ash turns to the others. “Alright, let’s get out of here!”

 

“That’s not going to happen!” Female Team Rocket Person shouts, almost with a pout, but definitely with a scowl.

 

“The Mega software’s ready to roll, folks!” Meowth shouts from the side. James runs over and begins rapidly typing on his keyboard. As he does that, Meowth runs up to this giant thing under a tarp.

 

“What’s that?” Ash asks, looking wide-eyed at the tarp.

 

“Oh, you’ll see soon enough,” James replies as he continues typing. “With our Mega Evolution data inputted into our secret weapon program, it’s now Mega Evolution x2!”

 

“Or! Our magnificent Mega-Mega-Meowth Machine!”

 

“Activating program,” James says. The entire time this façade has continued, I’ve busied myself. I reattached the claw to my arm, filed my nails a bit, repolished them. If I was a little more efficient, I could’ve run back to the Pokémon Center and taken a shower.

 

Tuning back into current events, the tarp is thrown off and a giant, Meowth tank yells, “MEOWTH! MEOWTH! MEOWTH!”

 

 

“MEEOOWW!!!”

 

“Oh my! Marvelous!” Professor Sycamore puts his hands on his hips, looking proud of the work in front of him. “It looks powerful!”

 

“Wow! I know they’re our enemy, but that’s a super cool invention!” And Clemont fangirls over it.

 

I rub my forehead. “Listen, I can appreciate a machine made on the machinations of a blank check, but I think we have more—”

 

“Stop!” Serena interrupts me. “This isn’t exactly the time for you to be impressed!” Despite the rude behavior, I find her kind of cute. Plus, how her arms are slightly squeezing her bountiful breasts. Ohhh…

 

Ahem. I appear to have lost my composure.

 

“Let’s get out of here!”

“Come on, guys!”

 

The others start running, but me? I stand there, a scowl adorning my features. I’ve come to recompense my bottled-up emotions. I admit it. Not just about how I have feelings for several girls that I meet, but that I care for Serena. I want to see her happy, preferably with me. Above that, I want her safe and sound.

 

Two arms dig into the ground, splintering to support me. The other six twine themselves into trios to form larger, thicker arms. Two arms with a massive five-pointed claw, serrated on each derivative point, grinding against each other, continually sharpening.

 

With extreme speed, the arms tear through the air, digging into the sides of the treads.

 

*SCREEE* Metal meets metal, but it’s enough to hold back the giant mech. With the robot held in place, Ash and the others turn around to fight back.

 

“Pikachu, use Thunderbolt!”

 

“CHU!!!” The bolt strikes, yet no damage is done as it reflects towards Pikachu.

 

One of the arms of the mech aims downward and fires a claw at Chespin. Dread fills my heart for a moment before Clemont dives and knocks both himself and Chespin away.

 

The arms, meanwhile, are fighting a losing battle. A mental note is made to myself to change the alloy composition as several hundred notifications fire into my brain, each one reporting of severe damage to this node or that node. Eventually, one of the central relays is ground down and one arm that was three becomes two.

 

With a mental nudge, the dead arm is retracted back into my harness, limp like a wet noodle. Massive holes ground in the side spark electricity.

 

However, for a hopeful moment, the mech struggles, then stops. The mouth of the Meowth opens to reveal Meowth sitting in there. “Hey, how do I fix this?”

 

Off to the side, I see Clemont holding up the power plug triumphantly.

 

He runs towards us; Chespin not far behind.

 

After slight instructions from James, the auxiliary power is switched on and trudges on once again. And the headache returns.

 

Another arm drops dead. The arms can transmit feeling, but I’m glad they don’t transmit pain. I’d probably pass out from the shock of having six arms ground to dust.

 

“Chespin, use Pin Missile!” Clemont commands, but, as proven with Ash’s arguably stronger Pikachu, the attack does nothing.

 

“Chespin! Tackle!” Again, nothing.

 

These futile efforts continue, more limbs drop, Meowth moves forward. Then, a fireball streams from the sky and pelts the mech, pushing it back.

 

“Mega Blaziken?!” Meowth shouts from inside the Meowth.

 

“Blaziken, use Flamethrower!” A torrent of flames is expelled from the Blaziken’s mouth at the command of Blaziken Mask. He…is an interesting character. I have a file on him. Of course, I did. I oversaw the servers back at the lab in charge of Mega Evolution.

 

Keeping a file on a person known to use Mega Evolution just seemed to make sense.

 

The flames die down around the mech, revealing the brittle, blackened, charred remains of the insurmountable opponent.

 

“Pikachu, Electro Ball!”

“I’m sure your Pin Missile will work now, Chespin.”

I release Robin. “Use Dragon Breath on those clowns,” I command, rage hidden under a calm demeanor. Not only did they endanger people I care about, they almost killed others, and they ruined my arms. Now, I’ll have to stay up all night fixing them.

 

“Pika, pika, pika! Chu pi!”

“Pin!”

“Dra…TIII!”

 

Pin Missile and Electro Ball strike above Meowth, but Dragon Breath hits him head on. The remains collapse, and Meowth is knocked to the ground with his team members. The power core that Pikachu and Chespin had hit started whistling and growing red.

 

It explodes.

 

Team Rocket is sent flying. “Ahh! We’re blasting off—” They begin shouting in tandem, but they’re stopped. Forcefully. By me. Or to be more specific, I grab them out of the air with my remaining arms, dragging them back down to the ground below.

 

“What.” I punctuate harshly, eyes wide and pupils narrow with fury. I smile so wide my cheeks start to hurt. “Were you saying?”

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

I had to stay behind in Camphrier Town, on account of Vulpix. Professor Sycamore was completely understanding, and, after turning over the members of Team Rocket to Officer Jenny, left with Ash and his friends back to Lumiose City.

 

I did get in a small conversation with Serena. Something along the lines of maybe the next time we meet, I have something important to tell you.

 

I retired back to my room for the night. A quick shower later, I lay on my bed, tool kit ready for the repair of my arms through the night. An errant thought overcomes me, though. An action that I’m sure will nag at me for the coming days if I were to avoid addressing it.

 

I pull over my laptop, closing the diagnostic windows I had open in preparation for repairs. Executing the various defense programs I’ve made over the years, taking up a large portion of my RAM, I worm my way through Viridian City’s database.

 

It’s common knowledge that Team Rocket was once stationed in Viridian City, but whether anything is left is a question still in the air.

 

However, the city servers had a backdoor accessed by Team Rocket. Essentially, reversing this connection, I can review the documents found there before the Team moved. It’s just an old backup, so I can’t tell if the server’s actively being used from here, but I’d guess that it is.

 

Plus, I could get this old information by digging through police records. That’s risker though as Porygon patrol those servers.

 

Eventually, I find a special team, certified by the head administrator. One composition of a Jessie, James, and talking Meowth. They had a perfect, spotless record for Team Rocket. Every assignment that had went without a hitch, until…

 

Hmm. Redacted. Let’s see… Uh, Pokémon Center takeover thwarted by…redacted. Beginning of a dry spell on missions where [REDACTED] was involved. Intense focus on a Pikachu leading to a series of mission failures. Psychologist recommended region transfer.

 

…Am I going to be killed in my sleep?