PokeWild

David had fucked up.

He had really fucked up and he didn’t even know how badly.

‘Venonat - Moths and Legends’ didn’t have any of the information on Moves, diet plans or training tips that he’d been looking for. It was just a history book, mostly about the Marsh rebellion and useless to a trainer. Instead it contained a deadly truth, one that had seeped into his brain and had haunted him since reading it.

It distracted him as he trained Cloudburst and Venonat that night. It lingered as he tried to fall asleep. It occupied his mind as he moved boxes and swept floors in the market.

Venonat. Bug-Poison type Venonat.

David had fucked up. He’d been so sure of himself, of a fragment from his memory. Memory of this world that had proven to be full of many blanks before. It was a mistake. He needed to stop trusting these fragments and start confirming things for himself.

He remembered that in the game there were four bug sprites with wings. Even if he hadn’t been mistaken and those Pokemon were all Bug-Flying type in the games, he should have double checked in this world. Type energy was something real here. Something that reshaped the world and not a number or statistic. What did thin, flimsy wings matter when an errant thought from these creatures could crush a house, or raise an island from the sea?

David had fucked up.

So what did he do? This question was also something that had been dancing around in his thoughts. Last night it seemed like a catastrophe, an inescapable trap, but today.. it was still awful but he had options. Oddly, the manual work he was doing at the market made it easier to consider those options. There was something soothing about letting the simple work occupy the front of his mind, while in the back he debated with himself.

Option 1: Do nothing.

It was a simple option. It required the least effort and time from him. Venonat was still a Pokemon, a being capable of incredible feats. They were still a member of his team. Their type... was it really that important?

Oliver had seemed to think so, but given the way that the old farmer had lost his cool in front of his grandson, Michael, David suspected that his extreme reaction might have more to do with Professor Oak than anything else.

Which was another thing. It was tantalising, that connection to Samuel Oak, Pokemon Professor and former Indigo Champion. There had to be some method to the madness if it brought a trainer to such heights. It was also the way that David had always played the games. A generalist had no weaknesses when pressing buttons on the console. Every match was a puzzle of matching your strong types against the opponent’s weak types.

However, this world was not the games. Pokemon were different in this world, and so were the people. Fuchsia’s colourful hair was only the latest and most obvious sign of this. Out of the stronger trainers that David had met, they all had.. quirks. From Oliver himself who had a tendency to orient towards the sun and made the air thick and sour when his blood was up, to the dojo masters, one of whom could make the very air change colours.

Pokemon could change the world, and humans were a part of this world.

Keeping Venonat could have an effect on David, on his very being, and he had no idea what.

Option 2: Find a Trade.

It was a rare option in the video games, and having lived in this world, David could see why.

He would never give up on Cloudburst. They’d known each other less than two months and he couldn’t imagine a life without the cheeky Pidgey anymore.

There was a slim window between when a trainer found that the Pokemon they’d caught didn’t suit them, and when they gave up and released said Pokemon. On top of that, for a trade to work the Pokemon they were offering needed to be the right Type and with a compatible personality. The chances of finding another trainer who had a Pokemon that they were willing to trade, one who met David's criteria, and who wanted David’s own Pokemon was slim to none.

He was going to keep an eye out for any trade notices or the like, but he didn’t have much hope in this option.

Option 3: Release Venonat.

This option seemed simple in principle, but the more David thought about, the more issues cropped up. The idealistic plan was to walk out of the city, find a quiet spot and release Venonat. He’d then return to the city, problem solved.

Issue one was Venonat. He’d seen Pokemon release themselves from pokeballs as they wished. The opposite had never happened in front of him without the button being clicked physically, but he didn't know enough to say it was impossible. Besides, even if Venonat didn’t magic themselves back into their pokeball, they could just follow David back home.

Venonat would have to agree to being released. This was a two way relationship. Venonat was David’s Pokemon, but he in no way controlled their every action.

Issue two was Pidgey. Not only was she the main communication avenue for David and Venonat at the moment, relaying his commands and thoughts when his words didn’t break through, but she was his starter and the head of the team.

Cloudburst seemed grudgingly accepting of Venonat. There was some tension between them, but he was unsure how much of that was tied to Venonat’s sleep schedule and its ability to stop her from using Moves as she wished. The ability to stop to Type energy was a Move that Venonat needed to practise and Pidgey was a semi-willing participant in that practise. She never complained much about helping but she was always grumpier afterwards.

Pidgey has and would continue to have a big impact on his team. Any decisions would need to be approved by her. Several dead Caterpie could attest to this.

Issue three was the pokeball. It was a frighteningly expensive piece of technology, and he had no idea how to release a Pokemon without breaking it. On top of that, a pokeball could only be used on one Pokemon and there was no visible ‘factory reset’ on the metal ball. The pokeball refitting services inside pokemarts proved that it was possible to reuse a pokeball, but it was another expense.

These three options were the only viable ones that returned again and again to his mind. None of them was perfect, all had issues and he had no solutions. It was enough to drive him a little mad.

“That’s a reasonably productive use for your emotions, but if you wouldn’t mind doing it elsewhere.”

It took a few seconds for David to realise the request had been addressed to him. He was in a quiet part of the market and it only took a second to find who had spoken.

As was usual with Fuchsia’s locals, David’s eyes were drawn to the woman’s hair first. It was bone white and tied up in a giant, almost square shaped bun at the back of her head. The plait looked overly complicated for the chaotic market. The regal expression on her face as she sat in a far too delicate red kimono-style robe behind the counter of a market stall only added to the effect.

“Sorry?” David asked, not quite sure what she was on about.

The stall owner raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the ground.

David followed her gaze to see a small dust cloud. One kicked up by the broom he was still scrubbing back and forth. This part of the market wasn’t paved, and his sweeping of rubbish had turned into scouring.

“Oh crap.” He stopped brushing and stepped out of the dust to inspect the damage. Thankfully he hadn’t been digging away at this spot for too long, and there was only a slight divot in the ground. His pants and shoes were covered in a film of dust, but that was the worst of it. He swept out the rubbish he’d meant to be cleaning into a small pile before turning to the stall owner again.

“Sorry, and thanks for breaking me out. I was a little lost in thought.”

She gave him a thin smile before going back to the.. weaving? in her hands. With quick flicks of her fingers she made two thin ropes dance in a never ending tangle. Both were the same colour, and the twists and turns had a near dizzying effect as the two lines collided.

He found himself drawn closer to the stall. Several sets of platted ropes lay on the table before the woman. Most were a dark purple colour though there was variety and all were of different lengths.

“Pokeball belts,” David murmured. This was the same kind of belt that Louis, the ranger on Route 18, had been wearing.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them in the market, but these belts looked to be of higher quality than the others. It might be the skill of their creator on display that gave them an extra oomph, but he was drawn to them all the same.

The stall owner glanced up at him as he neared, but continued weaving.

“How much?” David asked, picking up one of the purple belts.

“150 Poke,” She said, hand snapping forward to pull the belt out of his hand and point to another beside it. “That one is too short for you, try this one.”

David blinked at his hand, surprised by her rudeness before slowly reaching towards the indicated one.

“That’s quite a lot of Poke.” The belts were made from a thin rope, thicker than the string he used for his sling but not by much. A spool of the same kind of string could be picked up from the Pokemart for 40P. It was also more than the other stalls selling these belts. Stalls that were located closer to the entrance of the market and had more customers.

“That’s a lot of utility,” The stall owner snapped back with a pointed look at the sling around his neck. She stood, revealing a purple belt of her own with two pokeballs and two great balls in it. It clashed with her red kimono, but it was clear that it was being used as a demonstration rather than being her usual solution.

She held a hand up in the air, palm forward before slapping it down at her belt. In a quick motion, a pokeball had been freed from the tight weave and sat in her open palm.

“A proper 'cen'-'tis'-'e' allows a pokeball to be drawn in seconds, letting a trainer release as they do.” The stall owner sounded out the word once more as she reached forward and pulled another belt off the table.

“And it doubles as an emergency rope. With the correct movements-” Her hands danced across the length of the rope, pulling at certain knots. “-you can release two metres of high quality cord in seconds to stop blood flow or secure a line.” With a flourish she pulled one of the thin strands loose. It draped across the table and to the ground. The remaining belt in her hands was thinner, but the pockets for pokeballs hadn't fallen open.

David picked the fallen end of the rope off the ground and examined it. He had already seen an issue with the ‘centise’, but it seemed the pitch wasn’t over yet.

“Nowadays you see a lot of those magnetic Silph belts, but-” She frowned as she raised a finger up. “-those are a trap! Not only are they expensive, but you abandon all stealth when wearing them. You might as well be shouting out to any competent Ground Type, to say nothing of Magnemite.”

“Is that really a thing?” David couldn’t help but ask. If they could detect the magnets on belts, then could they detect electronics? Could Electric types detect all current? Or was it the metals that Ground types could detect? And if it was more than a sales tactic, what was the range? Could a ground type detect you from a mile or a metre?

She nodded fiercely, her square bob remaining perfectly fixed. “This is the only stall in the market where you can buy a proper centise. All of the other stalls glue their knots in place and use subpar materials, a disgrace to the design.”

“Ah.” David nodded after hearing that last bit. That was how they dealt with the issue. He pulled the cord and raised a bundle of the now freed rope up towards the stall owner. “So, if I get one of these centise, and I need to release this rope - in case of an emergency.” He paused to reach forward and picked up the other, unattached part of the belt. “How do I put it back together again?”

The woman creased her brows, “You just-” she took the belt and rope off him and began to weave them back together in a dizzying display of dexterity until...

“Oh.” She sat down heavily with the half done weave in her hands and a perplexed look on her face. “It’s something that you get taught. Everyone used to be able to do it. We used to practise as kids, but.. when I came back I saw the stalls and then I asked around, and no one does it properly anymore. Most of my friends have forgotten and all the trainers are wearing the glued belts or the Silph ones.” She looked more and more lost with every word.

“Is that a bad thing?” David asked, feeling a little guilty that his question had led her to have a minor meltdown. He’d just wanted a discount.

“Yes!” She snapped, losing that lost look to glare at him. “It’s part of our history. It’s a useful tool.” Her glare intensified. “Sit down. You’re going to help me.”

After a bit of cajoling, and receiving reassurances that this would count towards his work for the day, David sat down and learned how to tie the centise.

As they worked, Marie - or Marie Olympe as she introduced herself, asked a lot of questions about how he was finding the process, but she also talked about the centise themselves and their history.

The belts were designed back during the Marsh revolution. David was starting to notice the revolution tied into pretty much everything in Fuchsia.

The woven rope was originally based off of something used on Pokemon not humans. Pokeballs and other methods of managing unruly Pokemon weren’t as common back then, so in Fuchsia another, cheaper method was common.

Thick ropes were created with a dry fabric, then soaked in a special mix of poison. When later dried, some of the poisonous properties lingered in the rope. When bound with these ropes, Pokemon would weaken, but not suffer all the damage a full poisoning would bring.

However, as the madness of the marsh deepened, this technique began to be used on unruly humans as well as Pokemon. It was a cruel punishment that left lasting effects as humans were not so resilient as Pokemon.

“Until of course, the rebellion co-opted this punishment for their own means. People began to wear these thick ropes as belts, a sign of subservience they told their rulers.” Marie grinned cruelly, hunching over the rope in her hands even as her fingers moved at a speed that David couldn’t keep up with. “Little did those Voyeurs know that hidden within the twists of the ropes were Pokeballs. Pokeballs that were harder to discover as few, man or Pokemon were willing to touch the poisonous rope.”

“I think you should make a pamphlet,” David said suddenly, breaking the immersion from the tale. If he hadn’t known already that Marie was passionate around centise, there was little doubt left after hearing her recite the story from memory. She even threw in snippets about how the design changed or the materials were harvested. “You could have instructions for tying the belt, and short paragraphs about the history. Make it a package thing and sell it using that.”

The smile fell on Marie’s face and she straightened up. “That’s.. not a bad idea. How would I write the instructions?”

“Pictures?” David asked. Weaving was very much a 3D exercise and describing it with words would be next to impossible.

Marie hummed thoughtfully before spotting, and getting distracted by the mess he was making of his belt.

David hadn’t figured out how to tie the ‘centise’ perfectly by the end of the market, but Marie planned to divert his sweeping tomorrow too.